Dumb luck, dumb dumb luck, that’s all that can account for my place at that table, a dim sum palace in the middle of Brooklyn, we had to drive through Borough Park to find it, O. across from me face down in a bowl of rice, S. declining most things and channeling me a little bit to be honest, K. and K. talking and talking, clattering metal carts giving off steam, why not give these soft green dumplings another try? Why not?
April 16, 2011
Things that make me feel like I’m trapped in a loud angry fog: lots of people in one place; noise; meals in restaurants with large groups and a single split check; indeterminate meats. So when birthday-kid A. asked if I wanted a soup dumpling, which I sometimes love, I declined. I’m already pretty outside my comfort zone. She said Good. Quite a birthday gift, really.
May 8, 2009
C. may only be six weeks old, but we still had a lot in common. Neither of us had eaten dim sum before! He mostly slept through it in a basket on two chairs while I struggled through shrimp and pork stuffed inside noodles and dumplings. I’m not the bravest eater. M. and C. were a big help, doing the picking and choosing, talking about old times, passing on the gamely offered bowl of chicken feet for the table.
