HG restaurant error Number One: HG goes to a favorite Chinatown hole in the wall. HG is thinking about fried crabs in egg sauce and twice fried pork. At an adjacent table, some older Chinese men are eating something that looks interesting. “I want that,” says HG to waiter. “No, no, Mister,” exclaims waiter, “That is for Chinese people. You will not like it” HG will not be discouraged. Waiter fights the good fight. “You will not like it. You will not like it.” HG wins. The plate of food is placed before him. A cosmic error. The aroma is of dirty socks and animal droppings. In goes the HG fork (HG has never learned how to negotiate chopsticks. He is too greedy). HG chews. The textures: Tire scraps. Chewing gum. Rancid Jello. Mattress stuffing. The taste? Don’t ask. The waiter hovers. “See? You don’t like it..” HG’s dignity is at stake. He cannot lose face. He finishes the dish. Takes a few days to recover. Moral: Listen to Chinatown waiters. They know what’s not to like.
Restaurant lesson Number Two: HG has bad morning at Madison Avenue office. Needs comfort lunch. That means brains in black butter with boiled potatoes at Veau D’Or, the little French bistro around the corner. HG is delayed. Gets there late. Waiters are setting tables for dinner. HG rushes in; places his order.
Waiter says: “All right, M’sieu, but you must hurry. The lunch hour is over.” HG gets huffy, irate, snippy, furious. “Hurry? I am insulted and I am leaving.” On the way out he sees two old ladies finishing the last of their brains, mopping bits of butter from their alabaster maquillage. Damn. Those brains look good. HG settles for a drugstore BLT.
Moral: Calm and humility can lead to a good meal. The reward of huffiness is a BLT or worse..a tuna fish sandwich.
Oh how you make me laugh. I tried to call Murphy in to read this but I was laughing so hard I peed my pants. Thank you Hungry Gerald I needed that !!!! xoxo Ina
HG is not responsible for laundry bills.
The abridged version of “Listen to Chinatown Waiters” reminded me of the theatrical 30-minute version I was treated to many years ago. Among the many lessons digested by this foodie fan of HG, “Listen to Chinatown Waiters” is right up near the top. As with many other HG lessons, this one has been handed down to “My Three Sons” with hopes that they avoid one of HG’s rare pitfalls…
HG gathers there are two regional Chinese restaurants in Flushing that specialize in innards. Sietsma, the very good Village Voice restaurant guy, went there and tried some large pig intestines. Reported they had a profound fecal odor. Paris chitterling sausage presents the same problem. Though not troubled by digestive delicacy, HG will avoid.