photo from here.
i felt compelled to write about chinese new year. days of gluttony forced conversation red packets. reuniting. like an unspoken pact set each year the schedule set deeply entrenched written erstwhile i was born.
an occasion that can never be replaced by other holidays. never lackluster. nothing holds even close to this celebration.
the gatherings.
the fights.
the food.
crumbly buttery soft flakes whipped into auspicious shapes topped off with sweeten fruits.
hand rolled heavenly shards of crispy crunchy heated batter of a secret concoction of egg batter to paper thin manufactured uniformity.
slivers of toasted almonds sprinkled onto a simple base lighter than a meringue snapshot eating sweeten pillows of white airy clouds topped off with toasted crunchy bits finished by drizzling melted molasses.
the lost battle of trans fats.
braised duck soup stewed for days on ends to archive textures that are soft falling off the bone goodness. the flavors of the stock through every single spoon filled wonder.
homemade pounded chilli spiked secret ingredients made with a pestle and mortar instantly transporting you back to the era when firecrackers were still legal and you trying in vain to scare that hated cousin.
curries spiked in coconut milk not generic evaporated milk. filled with the aromas of bashed up shallots onions galanga curry leaves a shaving of candlenut amazing.
the hot pot broth that exponentially gets more scrumptious as the night goes on. bubbling with seafood just waiting to get caught by ones mini scoop-net piping hot into ones mouth.
happy chinese new year.
to you too obama.
No comments:
Post a Comment