IT TRANSFORMS WHAT IS OTHERWISE AN UNDESIRABLE AND THEREFORE CHEAP INGREDIENT,
INTO THE UPMOST ADDICTIVE, DELICIOUS, AND PLEASURABLE NARCOTIC.
It’s crazy sometimes to think that I’ve only left Beijing for 6 months. It somehow feels longer than that, which is funny because shouldn’t happy time fly? But I think my brain has triggered an automatic mechanism that blocks the whole six-years-chunk of unpleasantness, and started presenting the more palatable reality that came afterwards as the constant norm, that our new life in Hong Kong has always been. Weird, right? Though it’s not to say that there aren’t things I miss about you-know-where, but I mean, I just typically disregard them as the involuntary muscle spasms of a fish right after its head gets chopped off… I try not to think about it… don’t think about you-know-where…
But the other day, it all came boiling down.
A couple friends of ours arranged a harmless get-together in a seemingly unalarming location, and just like that, the dam broke loose. The restaurant was a sichuan joint. Ahh.. now I remember, sichuan foods. The extremely intense, erotic, sometimes even perversive addiction that is the grand cuisines of sichuan. Yes. Yes baby I did miss you. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it, but it’s about time that something is to be done about it. Of course, my obsession with sichuan foods has been quite well documented here. I mean that broad rice ribbons riddling in chili oil, the spicy numbing crayfish boil, the melt-your-face hot pot…. But that day, I realized, I have forgotten the Queen B.
B, as in boiling.
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