An Ode to...

Chopsticks. They’re more than just a song; they’re a way of life. And up until a few weeks ago, I thought that I was pretty handy with a pair.

I was sadly mistaken.

But not to worry, my dear followers, my skills are slowly developing. More and more, formerly elusive dumplings are becoming mine. All mine. And when the time comes that I truly master the art of forklessness, I will no longer have to share their delicious flavor with the Lazy Susan. My skills have already greatly improved, and Susan’s hunger grows with every meal…

Anyway, creepy personifications aside, chopsticks are little more than bamboo twigs coated in a food-grade layer of frustration. Actually, the bamboo ones aren’t so bad. The wooden apparatuses are much easier to use than their plastic counterparts, and harder yet are the metal versions that you'll find in nicer restaurants. Lucky for me though, I rarely dine in places that have meals for more than $2 USD.

…Or doors.

But who needs doors, windows, or heat when you have a steaming bowl of noodles an inch away from your face? Need I remind you that table manners are useless in a country without heaters?

…

Speaking of noodles, table manners, and a complete lack of indoor heating, I’ve recently discovered another joy of China: Baozi. I presume that you’ve never heard of it, so please allow me to explain. Picture a little scoop of heaven, enclosed in a fluffy white bun, and handed to you in a small plastic bag. This is Baozi. You can buy 2 of them for 1 Yuan ($.15 USD), and they are fantastic. They make a delicious breakfast.

…I think.

There’s a question that has been plaguing me, but I haven’t actually figured it out yet: what is breakfast in China? There’s seemingly no set meal or food group associated with it. In a sense, it’s like I’ve been eating at Denny’s for a month: “breakfast served all day!” I mean, I have no problem with it—growing up I always wanted waffles for dinner—but I just can’t fully comprehend it. It’s so foreign to me. How do Chinese children learn to spell, if not from playing with sugary letters floating in their (soy)milk? Impossible.

Anyway, the discovery of Baozi solved this breakfast-conundrum for me. They only serve it in the morning (at least at the 2-for-1 place), thereby making it a breakfast food by association. Best of all, as I mentioned earlier, they serve it to you in a plastic bag. Not only is this highly sanitary, but it also means that you can eat it on the go. And since I haven’t purchased a carrying case for my chopsticks yet, I’ve had to leave them at home. What a shame.

So what does this all mean, Jason?

Only one thing: that I have no choice but to eat my Baozi with the opposable chopsticks I was born with.

Step one: Baozi to the face.

Step two: chew.

Step three: repeat.

I can’t imagine a more perfect meal.

Zai jian,

Jhw