THE MISSING DECADE

Yesterday evening the apartment mate and I had dinner at a local restaurant where the food is well-prepared Cantonese - American Chinese - Home Style. Their steamed salt fish pork patty is, in a word, heavenly. And while generally speaking I am wary of tofu because I've had it badly prepared by white people far too often, done with bokchoi and large whole black mushrooms they way they do it is splendid.

The parents do the kitchen, their daughter serves and answers the phone.

Clean and bright, with nicely prepared food.

Our kind of people.


Yeah okay, not hip. Good and hip are usually at odds anyhow, and it's strictly neighborhood, not easy to get too if you're a tourist from out of town or a visitor to the city. And where their from, Milk Tea is not a thing. Mom and dad speak a dialect further back than most people, wich sounds like it's been influenced by the Min group of languages. Intelligible if you struggle. Standard city Cantonese also can.

One curious thing I found out yesterday was that if the person was not ready to go, they will blow out the candles at the cemetery. Also, there is food offerings envy among ghosts. Just keep that in mind the next time you are at happy hill cleaning the graves.
The dead don't mind you swearing while cleaning.
They've heard it all before.


Taking them some decent coffee from Peet's might be a good idea.
Not Starbucks. And absolutely NO syrup-added stuff.
Show some respect.


This is vaguely related to a previous period of my life, people I used to know, and memories of previous places. Fermented fish also enters into it. They used to make that at Three Families Village. But that's a thing of the past now.



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