黑社会

Many races can boast of the survival gene, the Chinese are top notch at this, considering how we've been able to penetrate every border and in most cases, survive. But the Chinese can also boast of another survivability trait - that is, the ability to render almost every root, plant, and creature, potable. So it is with no wonder that salted eggs - yes, chicken/duck/quail eggs steeped in brine till its white and yellow innards shrivel - were invented by the Chinese eons ago, and till today are still savoured with a helping of porridge. More often that not, the salted eggyolk, which has even found its way into mooncakes and other expensive pastries, is treasured and the white component discarded. And today at 黑社会,
I had the misfortune of finding that the salted eggyolk had also made its way into 泡饭 (which is not that much of a loss considering how I have never been too keen on porridge):

But alas, the salted eggyolk intruded upon the otherwise lovely 流沙包. That dish was certainly the winner. It was served in dimsum boxes:

Orange-hued buns steamed over a slow flame, encasing a golden liquid centre of custard and...salted eggyolk...one had to eat it ala 小笼包 fashion, peeling off the top and dipping it into the molten centre before swallowing the remainder whole.

I had the privilege of enjoying many other scrumptious dishes, but the one that really stood out from the crowd was the abalone tart.

Sarah! I hope this reaches you before you open the can of abalone. Unless, you decide to brave the barbaric Chinese style of chugging this edit: bivalve out of the can, here is another solution! Morsels of abalone steeped in herbal sauce, places upon some diced vegetables in a pastry case. Brilliant.

And now, Auden beckons. I might upload the whole album of photographs without a narrative in a seperate post. Alternatively, there is a high chance of me returning to this place, so I might do a compare and contrast exercise should I order the same dishes again.

Till then.

Stomach, I implore thee to stop!

Get ready for my heart-felt, impassioned plea to a long-serving organ:

Dear Stomach,

You are the probably the most muscular portion of my body. But I do not want to overwork you anymore. Muscle fatigue of the stomach can be very hard to repair. So, it is with your well being in mind that I implore thee to stop eating! Even if the stubborn legs of the body you happen to be situated goes to People's Park for food like this:

And have your mum buy this:

Sincerely,
The Brain

Curiously enough, my studies as an English Major has opened up an interest in languages as a whole. My love (proud of my own race)-hate (damn those 听写) relationship with the Chinese language has since taken a change for the better, Japanese classes are a weekly highlight, I shall zap Sharon's Korean book soon and I have Sarah and Zah for Malay!

But right now I'm so intrigued with how the Chinese terms for food items are so accurately descriptive. It could never have been more apt to name those savoury delights in the 1st picture collectively as 点心。It would take a genuine love for food to craft such small, and hence so quickly consumed, morsels in a kitchen cramped with eggs, flour, flaming stoves. Not to mention the 锅贴 in picture 2. How I love peeling those stickers off the pot.

I simply love how the Chinese Language is so precise in capturing details. Now, if only it was not that hard to master!