I have found my dim sum soul mate in the form of one Faith Wu. If I were to find a boy (er, man) version of Faith (Faitherson? Faithderick? Fidel?), I would be ready to settle down. I had a near-perfect brunch with Lu, Grant, and Faith today. Grant and Faith bonded over Wagner and Debussy; Lu and I bonded over not knowing what they were talking about. And chopping (not the karate kind-- that's what Grant does). I love eating with people who love eating with people, especially those who discuss Man vs. Food as easily as cost drivers in healthcare.
I don't want to detract from my deep fondness for Lu and Grant. Heck, I felt comfortable enough with them to accept a custard tart from Grant in one hand while actively shoving chicken feet in my mouth (with chopsticks- I'm not a savage) in the other. But Lady Wu surprised me with her simultaneous aggression and sweetness, a deadly combination for yum cha. She can't speak Canto, but she was great at understanding the litany of food terms tossed at us and spitting back in Mandarin. Enjoying shumai and shrimp dumplings is one thing, but sharing chicken feet, tofu skin-wrapped pork (which she cut in half for everyone) and clearing plates? That's what futures are built on.
(on being an ABC [American Born Chinese, for my Caucasoid friends])
Moi: You should work on being a better ABC.
TChu: I'm awesome at the AB part...just not the C part.
Moi: Yes, you were wonderful through gestation.
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