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| - Asians are such foodies. I think its just bred in us and eating is such a big part of the culture.
Needed to get away from the office and just chill on my own a bit and decided to head to this typical congee hole, however this isn't the usual spot I go to as there are two other places that are more my regular hideouts in this suburban strip mall. But for whatever reason, I took a pass on the others and went straight in here.
This place is fairly big for a congee hole, however, its very much dated, and everything in here is a tad worn. Not quite downtown Chinatown worn and dingy but more like a bad theme restaurant that hasn't seen an upgrade since Nirvana's last hit. It's got several large tables a few booths that are well spaced out, but it makes it feel less busy.
I managed to sit at a booth across from a table of seniors, and as I was by myself reading the NY Times from my phone, I listened in on their chatter. Between the talk of their grandchildren, bragging about who the smart ones were and conversely what trouble makers others were, and their world travels to such places as "Bah-see-lone-ah" and how they loved eating Spanish dim sum (Tapas) the conversation always focused on the food. They'd be spending their time pushing each other as their dishes arrived to fight for the honour of serving each other.
One grandmother would get up and pull off her kung-fu tai chi move to fend off another grandmother. "This is my dish, we have to try this... I will serve it".
It's funny how times have changed though. As when I grew up, if you were Chinese there were two predominate languages, Cantonese and Tao-san. The way I'd classify it is that Tao-san is much akin to thick southern accent, as I am one, and we're really the rednecks of China. However, both could handily understand each other with minimal confusion on some of the colloquial aspects. For example, rain is "Rain" in Cantonese, but the Tao-sans say "its falling water". But now, there's as many Mandarin speakers as there are the two combined, especially in the service industry. Mandarin is something completely different spoken, although they share the same written language, it might as well sound like French and English.
I listened as one of the grandmothers tried to ask for more side plates, and the younger most likely in university waitress struggle to understand her. it's like when we encounter other foreigners, we say things slower and louder like they will understand. The grandmother shouts and gestures for a plate in Cantonese, and holds up her tea cup plate, until she gives up and says "plate" in broken English. "pah-layt-ah.. pah-lay-t-ah". Finally another granny, speaks up in broken Mandarin saying the word "plate" over and over until she thinks she got the pronunciation right and the waitress nods and heads off.
The first grandmother says in Cantonese "aiya.. my mandarin is so awful, I'd never survive in China. Isn't it sad that I know more English than I do Mandarin now?" and they all chuckle.
Dish after dish, they'd all compare notes. "This was too salty", "Amazing textures", "I've never had this before, this is nice". Then they'd start talking about cooking, and how they'd do their version of the same dish. "You know, Wolfberries would be perfect for this dish!". "My fried rice always has ginger onion sauce".
I sat enjoying my meal, feigning my interest in my Smartphone while listening in, thinking about how much I missed growing up listening to my grandmother and other older aunts and uncles talked each other, while I'd sit intently listening in on the recipes they'd share. Funny enough, my grandparents only lived about a block away from here.
As for me, the curried brisket I had was very mild, and nothing very noteworthy. Since I'm going to China in a few weeks, I tried practicing my Mandarin with the waitress. I only barely understood her, yet I faked it all and just nodded most of the time and said the only few words I knew. "Che Che". Thank you. Or vice versa "Bu ke Chi" when they thanked me. "You're Welcome."
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