Hi.
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We ended up at a Chinese sit-down that had yellow walls, thick menus, and the word ‘love’ done up in streamers two times across the western wall. They were serving duck. Half the menu was duck, it seemed.
I had a view of the windows. I thought it might be raining but it was just the air-conditioner fogging up. We shared the place with two other tables, bigger groups, and they were speaking Mandarin or maybe Cantonese. The proprietress got excited when E said I was a vegetarian. She was sure to point out the part of the menu just for me.
I don’t often end up at new places on weekdays. We tried getting takeout from our old standby but it’s closed on Mondays, a fact none of us can ever remember. Sometimes it takes poor luck and bad planning to shake the dust and cobwebs off you. I settled on the House Tofu. It was good.
Currently Reading: Queen, Suzanne Crain Miller
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The only time they ever throw anything away is when it’s really and truly broken, and then they make a big deal about it. They save up all their bent pins and broken sewing needles and once a year they do a whole memorial service for them, chanting and then sticking them into a block of tofu so they will have a nice soft place to rest.
Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time-Being
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