Posted: 01 Sep 2014 - David Lebovitz
One thing you probably don’t know
about me is that I’m half-Chinese. Actually, I’m not officially half-Chinese,
but I was unofficially adopted by two Chinese-American sisters, who have told
me that I’m Chinese. Being Chinese has a host of advantages, which include
learning how to open a métro door without actually touching the knob. And
generally assuming that if you’re going out for Chinese food, that you order
three or four times what you’re actually planning (or able) to eat, and taking
the rest of it home.
In San Francisco, I’ve seen people
bring their own plastic containers to restaurants. When the meals is over, they
take them out and fill them up. (I haven’t tried that in Paris, but I have been
able to go ten years without touching a métro handle.)
Another benefit of my bequeathed
heritage is a plethora of amazing food. When I go to San Francisco, upon
arrival, the refrigerator is stocked with won tons, dumplings, noodle soups,
and chow fun. (Thick rice noodles.) And the rest of the time is spent going out
to eat. One gets pretty spoiled living in California because there are a lot of
great places for Vietnamese, Thai, Chinese, and Japanese food. (Although after
going to Thailand, I couldn’t eat Thai food anywhere else. When can I go back?
And Vietnam, Burma, and Hong Kong are at the top of my bucket list.)
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