WILL NO ONE THINK OF THE HAMSTERS?

When one of the people you've known for a long time irritates the spit out of you by being dense, almost too obtuse to believe, what you need to do is step out of Facebook and go have some porkchops. Animal protein is good for the brain. As is Hong Kong milk tea. Followed by a contemplative pipe, smoked underneath an awning in Chinatown while tourists stumble past, baffled by the West Coastness of it all.

Yesterday.


番茄豬扒飯

Two thin cut porkchops, pan-cooked and smothered with stewed chopped fresh tomato chunks, a little browned onion. A pile of rice. Soup, and a hot dinner roll, pat of butter. While it rained outside. The place was nearly empty, the three old ladies behind me left, and an elderly gentleman took their place. I got to hear him keep up a happy commentary on his jook. An old friend and his mom were having coffee two tables away, and way out in the main area a chubby fellow listened to loud mainland music on his cellular device. Which didn't bother anybody.

It's one of those places which I will possibly not share with anybody. Most of my Caucasian friends would likely not appreciate it; the Chinese baked goods would probably not appeal to them, the lunch items and soups might not be to their taste. I've seen enough white people acting like they've just landed on Mars in Chinese places I frequent to know better.
Almost certainly many ABC's would not like it either.
It's too Hong Kong for their refined tastes.
There are no hamburgers.

But there is won ton noodle soup. Which is an amazing comfort food, and almost nobody dislikes that. Not even snooty Euries. At least, I think not.


I'm used to eating alone. It's far better than having to adapt my tastes to other people, or going to restaurants with tablecloths and pretensions. Not that I am antisocial, at least not excessively so. But I shan't hide my food preferences just to get along with exceptionally suburbanite types or migrants from elsewhere in the United States.

And if you mind me enjoying my pipe afterwards while we're outside, there is no need to walk with me.


Porkchops. Old fire soup. Won ton noodles. Flaky pastries, dan taat, chasiu sou. Lo po beng. Chi baau dan gou. Plus milk tea, and the soothing fragrance of aged Virginia leaf, smoked slowly.

We can discuss movies we've seen while we walk.
Or Jane Austen, perhaps Simenon.
Maybe even kittens.


Hamsters playing poker.

I'm flexible.




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