I've spent a lot of the past week thinking of my beloved egg foo young. Not because of my diet, but because I spend most of every week thinking of egg foo young. One thing I won't miss is the egg foo young combo at China Taste on Graham Avenue. If you eat there they insist on putting it on a plate that is the exact size as the food. The rice is piled a foot high and goes all the way to the edge of the plate. You're terrified that moving one grain of rice wrong will make the whole thing come tumbling down...like Jenga. It grosses you out to even think about scooping the rice up off the table and eating it: in the end I don't like to offend my hosts so I scoop. At $4.55 a combo plate it's not really worth jeopardizing US/China relations.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Fried Rice Spillover Magic
In a strange confluence of events, which is usually the only thing ever associated with "confluence", my mentioning China Taste in an earlier post happens on a day in which I went out for chicken fried rice at lunch and had to use a separate plate because the container they packed it in was was stuffed that I was guaranteed to lose about 50% of it to spillover, and since I was in a room with other people I wouldn't be able to inhale it off the floor with a straw like a human being. Which reminded me of a post I wrote with my one-time sidekick, The Fashion Herald:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment