THE DAY IN FRAGMENTS

For a second I thought she said "Mario net". This in reference to someone in Trump's innercircle. So naturally I was baffled. Then she mentioned strings attached, and I realized she meant the one without Trump's tiny hand up his ass.
Trump's tweety digits. Perfect size for texting.
Soft, small, and femmy wemmy.

My apartment mate has delicate hands the right size for texting, but they are hard as steel. Not soft rich white bitch prep school frat boy mits.
So she does not tweet.

Then she mentioned giving a hamster a peeled grape. Odd segue.


I think she was unwinding (mentally de-constructing) after a long day at the coalmines, whereas I had the day off and relaxed with porkchops at one of my favourite spots.

I should clarify that we are not a couple, just two extremely similar people sharing an apartment and several stuffed animals, with a few like-minded tastes and obsessions. For two years I got to hear about her going down to Chinatown for oxtail stew (牛尾市都 'ngau mei si dou') at one of her fave places, and I of course have mentioned porkchops till y'all sick of them.
But that's just one example, there are others.
She's Cantonese, I am Caucasian.
She doesn't smoke a pipe.
Yep, similar.

The place I went to was not the one I intended to go to, as they turned out to be closed from December tenth till December seventeenth. So I had tomato porkchops and rice (番茄豬扒飯 'faan ke chü paa faan') further up the street instead.


番茄豬扒飯

Salt and pepper two thin cuts, and brown fast on both sides over high heat. Then add sliced onion and four or five chopped tomatoes, plus a splash of ricewine, and when it's boiling slop it on to one side of a plate. Now add a big scoop of rice. Simple, delicious. Probably more to it than that -- a roux plus pan crusties may be involved -- but high heat is definitely part of the programme, as the chops are done just right, rather than over done.
If you are English, include Worcestershire.

Plus soup with a meaty bone in it, some minced carrot, and lotus root (蓮藕豬骨湯 'lin ngau chü gwat tong'). And a small heated roll in which to melt the butter pat.

All that with a cup of milk tea.

Happiness.


In the middle of the day, all the people there seem to be elderly crotchets with strong opinions speaking Toishanese. Aside from the three people behind the counter there were no women. Just men swilling coffee and tea and ripping up hot buns with their fingers. A good people-watching spot.
Even the lone fellow at a table opposite was more interested in the conversations around him than his newspaper.
He barely even read one article.


I should have stayed there longer; the pavement outside was freezing, and once that cold had travelled up my bones it was difficult to walk. I finished my pipe in the portico of a church while longing for warmer weather.



AFTER WORD

My apartment mate's birthday is this weekend. I bought a few more things (already got the main gifts a while ago) and ordered a cake. We'll celebrate on Friday once she gets home. It's actually on Saturday, but I must work.

No, I shan't mention how old she will be.
That would not be gentlemanly.




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