Being a visual and verbal chronologue of my peculiar life, foremost my research interests—death and the anatomical body—and travels and people I've met in pursuit of same; my collecting interests—fossils, postmortem photographs, weird news, and new acquisitions to my “museum”; and (reluctantly) my health, having been diagnosed with MS in 1990. "Satisfying my morbid curiosity and yours..."
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Dim sum
I am past due for some dim sum. Here in the U.S., this meal is typically enjoyed as a Saturday or Sunday brunch. In Chinese, the literal translation is "little heart" and dim sum is associated with the ancient tradition of going to tea. At the more traditional restaurants - like Fortune, which I used to patronize in Falls Church, Virginia - the varied menu items are hurried around the dining room on carts. Your ticket is marked with a stamp for each dish and tallied up at the end of the meal. The 1st time my Mom joined me and my sister and family for dim sum, we forgot to provide her with a description of the items in advance, so she was a bit overwhelmed by the immediate requests from our table for shu mai (steamed pork dumplings), bao (steamed buns filled with barbecued pork), and har gow (steamed shrimp dumplings). We ordered plenty of potstickers, too, but never anything from what my sister likes to call the "parts cart"!
The first time I ate dim sum was at a large Chinese restaurant in San Francisco. My date and I were the only two Caucasians out of many dozens of people. I thought I was ordering a dish of tiny spare ribs. But when I picked one up it fanned out into a webbed duck's foot. The restaurant owner came at sat at our table. He said "Not very many Caucasians order ducks feet". I said "Oh, I love them" as I ate the webbing from between the toes. He said "We have a hard time getting enough duck's feet". I thought,"How can that be?" But now I realize that there are more Chinese in the world than there are Americans. And only two little feet per duck.
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