Thursday, February 3, 2011

hand-wrapped dumplings

there i am doing stretches to ease the discomforts in the lower back while waiting for my hair cut when all of a sudden i smell some spectacular noodle aroma. i look up and see an asian guy pouring some dark brown sauce into a container of noodle. i say, that smells really good. a beaming smile shines through what until now is a solemn face. he says, it's from that place down the street. i say, is it korean? he says, yeah. i say, where? he says, that little mall. i right away know where he means. i have passed by that spot many times, but never thought of going in. so after our haircuts i wheelchair hwubby all the way, making our way through the uneven pavement. the early afternoon sun is warm and nice. the first thing that catches my eye once we walk through the threshold is something i haven't seen in years, probably the first since i have been in america. a guy sitting at an empty table wrapping dumplings. i order a plate of those, poached. they are as good as can be. light, fresh, well seasoned. the kind that a big dude from northeast china can down two hundred in one sitting. one bite and you don't want to have frozen dumplings ever again. they are dead. this is alive.

No comments:

Post a Comment