Ordered from the Wing Kee, our local (as in, two blocks away) Chinese place last night.
You may remember the name from my puzzled rant about how I live in one of the highest concentrations of Chinese people outside of Beijing and yet it is curiously hard to find Chinese food here.
By which I mean Canadian style Chinese, of course. With that in mind, it’s not really that mysterious. I mean, I imagine it’s pretty hard to find a Chinese-style hamburger anywhere in the rest of Canada.
The Wing Kee is basically the only option for my idea of Chinese food that doesn’t also have some weird rule like $40 minimum order or some complicated combo system or some other such nonsense.
So anyhoo, ordered BBQ duck on rice from the Wing Kee last night. I’d never ordered it before but I love the BBQ duck I used to buy at a Chinese bakery/deli, so it seemed like a sure thing.
Not so much, as it turns out.
Because when it arrived, the duck portion of it was like 85 percent bones and fat. Truth. It was so bad that I basically just ate some of the veggies and rice and left the duck part of it for today, when I would be more inclined to dig through the offal to get the small portions of actual duck flesh (which were in no sense BBQ) out.
And that’s what I did today. Most of what I got went right into the composting, leaving me with a few paltry scraps of bland steamed duck meat.
I am disappoint.
To the point where I doubt I will order from the Wing Kee again. it’s such a total and utter fail that it makes me question whether the place is going to be around much longer… or whether it should be around.
Generally speaking, when the food quality of a restaurant takes a nosedive, it means that they are not long for the world. Once they are desperate enough to cut costs that they compromise the quality of the very thing they sell, causing them to rapidly lose customers, the writing is on the wall.
They’ve certainly lost me as a customer.
Dunno where the heck I will get my Chinese food now. The next best place is Bamboo Express, and their version of the concept of an egg roll is a hunk of fried batter the size and shape of a Nerf football.
It doesn’t even have a filling. No bean sprouts or bok choy or anything. It’s just a ovoid blob of the sort of batter the casing of a REAL egg is made of.
Wonton batter, maybe? But even plain old fried wontons are an eight story tiramisu of intricate design and execution compared to these “egg rolls”.
Oh well, Plenty of other places to eat. And if I want Chinese food bad enough, I can take a cab to the mall and go to the food court.
Modern life is so darn complicated.
More after the break.
Wobbling along the edge
Been wobbling along the edge of a deep depression lately.
The usual signs are there. Moments of black rage nihilism where I want to kill all of reality just to make it SHUT UP for once. Times when a terrible sadness wells up within me and I desperately want to let it out, but I don’t know how.
I try to cry. But I don’t get very far. The ground is barely wet when the rain stops.
And I have a hefty dose of that haunted feeling I get sometimes, like there is a ghost in my soul and it’s trying to get out – or at least get me to listen to what it’s trying to say.
I try, little ghostie. But I haven’t the ears to hear you yet.
My physical health is crappy too. I am not even going to try to figure out the chicken and egg of cause and effect there.
I feel crappy either way.
I’ve been having digestive issues and sinus issues, probably related. My sinuses get clogged, that causes a sinus headache, which makes my head hurt in a certain way that also makes me nauseous and upsets my digestion and voila, cramps in my gut.
Oh, and my balls ache too. Because why let the other parts have all the fun of making me utterly miserable.
I blame the vagus nerve. Who knows what that dang thing is up to.
Meanwhile, in reality, it’s probably all happening because I went two weeks withotu showering and my pores are all clogged up.
And the shower I took earlier this evening should help eventually, but in the mean time, my body still has to build up pressure behind the remaining clogs to push them out and finally let my skin breathe again, and that is not fun while it’s happening.
So I am going to try hard to make myself take another shower, a longer and hotter one, to maybe steam clean my pores instead of waiting for the dam to burst.
Or the fever to break. Take your pick.
What I really need is a long soak in a very hot bath. As hot as I can stand, because it’s the heat that both signals the pores to dilate and melts the accumulated goo inside.
I don’t normally take baths because they are kinda gross. I don’t like sitting there in a stew of my own effluvia. Showers don’t have that problem. The steady stream of a shower takes all that old sweat and skin salt and such away instantly.
My perfect setup would be an indoor heated river that I could sit in and the warm water would reach up to my neck and just flow over and around me, taking all the gross stuff away and cleaning my skin fresh and clean and happy.
Still, perhaps I can talk myself into taking one good hot bath to try to reset my skin to it factory settings and maybe treat it a bit better this time through.
That would be nice.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.