Yesterday again I trundled down to Chinatown for my milk tea and dim sum after acupuncture.
This place is always an experience. I’m getting to know the regulars by sight.
Clusters of male pensioners huddling over the paper. I wonder if they are selecting their horses for the races. Is horse-racing even on now these days?
An elderly man with a tray of tarts and buns and siu mai and tea in one hand, supporting himself on his cane with his other. He secures his table and trundles off to get some chili sauce for dipping.
Another man, middle-agesd, in scuffed clothes with dirty torn fingernails rants aloud in Cantonese to no one, perhaps to everyone.
A university-agedcouple settle at the table next to him during one of his pauses. They move next to me when he begins again.
We compare our dishes. My wonton noodle soup is not very good. ( I should know better than to get wonton noodle soup at a bakery.) Their cream cheese filled buns are tasty. The har gow is delicious. My tea is excellent.
We discuss food, the evolving city, popular culture, racism, mainland China, and how the Cantonese speaking Chinese built our Chinatowns and established a Chinese presence in Canada.
We part: they to their workshop and me to purchase a day book for the new year.
Thanks for bringing us along!
You are welcome. Thank you for being interested in my milk tea excursions. <3
Your milk tea excursions are a joy :)
Thank you, CrowKettle. They really are a joyful part of my week, especially in these times. <3
<3
I also enjoy reading about your milk tea excursions and am craving har gow now. :)
I too enjoy reading these weekly adventures, please continue to share :)