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2008-11-10
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I've never set foot in this district, in a sense that I have never been around here. I said this with plenty of shame because I should've had my footprints here long ago...for the food. It's only until today that I arrive at one of these old joints where the floors are laid with tiled and booths are old wooden ones, and the lady with the grey hair greeted me with a grin that touched her eyes"Sit down, Young man, Beef Bun?" The lady headed straight to the pan for freshly fried beef buns. My "uh..
"Sit down, Young man, Beef Bun?" The lady headed straight to the pan for freshly fried beef buns. My "uh...(in thoughts, pondering)" stopped her.
"Yes, one please, and 2 potstickers ($3 apiece), and soy milk please".
Before I finished my request the beef bun was set before me, steaming hot with both top and bottom fried crispy and golden brown. It's pillowy white dough spell softness with a possibility that juices will flow down the tines of my fork if I decide to use it. I considered the fork for a moment, but dropped it right away as I grabbed the bun with one hand and took a bite...Flavorful meat juice erupted in my mouth and dribbled down my big fat chin. I looked up to see the old lady nodded with a sense of relief on her face. Her grin and friendlness was sincere and uncontrived.
The potstickers' wrappers were a little thicker, but it offered a perfect layer that encased juicy pork filling with the slightest hint of soy marinade and perhaps a little green onions? Soy milk was iced cold and still tasted strongly of soy bean and thicker than most. Looking at the clientele that came in and out slurping up hair-thin noodles or pieces of braised pork crackling with juicy radish. I gulped down the last of the soy milk and poured out in front of the old lady, who was now here to collect the plates as I was on my feet.
"It's my first time here. This place is hard to find." I said.
"We've been there (the establishment) for almost 40 years, and it's only your first time here?!" she patted the back of my arm slightly with a crack in her voice...She sounded nothing of a blame, in fact with a crack in her voice it sounded very funny.
"Yes, my first time, but I"ll be back"
"You'd better be. Bring your friends, take as many pictures you like", just as she pointed to a new pan of potstickers being fried. I glanced over, fresh dumplings ready to be turned over, one side golden against the snow-white partly cooked dough.
I stepped into the bustling streets feeling satisfied and full, not only with the potstickers and bun, but warmed up by a greater sense of comfort and a whiff of sincerity hardly found in many new establishments. This, is certainly a place to love.
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