It's Friday possum! And the weeks end is nigh. So grab some booze, pop a pill sit back and demand your local government to screen The Muppet Show every fucking morning in lieu of the news.
So in today's posting we will take a peek into the culinary world of Chinese cuisine. Now many of you live in big cities and have enjoyed Panda Express, P.F. Chang, Wow Bow and all of the 'hood Cantonese greasy spoons--and if you are in the mood to pay for Chinese food that's high as giraffe pussy on the off chance that you'll spot some celebrity cum stained princess passed out in the bathroom--then you can dine with the champions at Mr. Chow.
I don't eat bullshit in the states, and I sure as hell wasn't going to eat bullshit far east. Sure there are posh restaurants over there, but I have to tell you, some of the best food I ate in Shanghai was street food.
So here's a video taken on the streets of Shanghai. My Black Russian baby doll Liza and I had just spent a wonderful evening at the spa. Our treatments included a 2 hour massage, and facial. If I look stoned in the video it's because that goddamned massage was so relaxing. And my face looks like a pumice stone because that tiny Chinese lady was exacting zits from my face like a bird looking for worms.
Ack. Every time I hear my fucked up vernacular I want to scream.
The olfactory (what you smell) is directly connected to your tummy. I used to work in perfumery and one thing I learned is that typically if you enjoy the way something smells, you will also like the way it tastes. So for example, if you enjoy the smell of ginger, lavender, and even rose...you will most likely enjoy the way they taste.
I like to know my food source. I'm always curious to see the animal, plant, root, flower that I'm eating. What I'm smelling.
I am a Taurus. I'm a foodie. I revel in all things epicurean.
I scour over Food & Wine Magazine like it's a vintage Vanessa Del Rio centerfold. I watch the Cooking Channel and Food Network like it's--well porn. One day, I hope to have a cooking show. Where I get stoned and challenge myself to make delicious meals for invited guests. And if you take my idea asshole, I call a pox upon your genitals.
My mother is a cook, as was her mother--and I dare say, I know my way around the kitchen & grill. As an American tourist, I didn't want to be one of those assholes who only ate at McDonalds or KFC. I wanted to experience authentic local food--local customs. I really did think I was Anthony Bourdain, because one day I wandered my ass into a local market. Now from the outside it appeared to be a tiny farmers market. But something told me, that it wasn't your run of the mill Piggly Wiggly. So I started following the path...noticing that there were no Westerners or non-Asian faces. Well this both excited and terrified me. As I marched toward this indoor market, I kept thinking "Surely there are other non-Chinese faces in there. No? Oh damn, maybe they think I'm Condeleeza Rice--sent here to spy. Okay, just be cool. Just pretend you're watching an episode of Iron Chef. Yes, own your stride. You are Gordon Ramsay. Don't fret. The spirit of Bruce Lee will protect you if someone drops a live crab down your D-cup. Be invisible. In China. Fuck, impossible. Come on?? Am I really the only fly in the buttermilk?"
Yep. I was. But I didn't care. I was going to knock the black knight off his horse, jump the moat and storm the castle. Wait, does that make me the black knight? Since I'm Black? Nevermind.
This tiny market turned out to be the size of a fucking airplane hanger. Fresh fruit, veggies, fish, poultry, lions, tigers and bears for as far as the eye could see. I could not resist following the rabbit hole. So I gave chase, and boy was I in for a treat. So are you! Enjoy the videos, and still photos. And please forgive the poor cinematography. But after you see all the creatures, and sharp instruments handled like Shaolin warriors, you'll understand why my hands were a bit shakey.