To some of you the secondary title is a no-brainer. To others it may seem a little bit unfounded. Allow me to elaborate.
Growing up I was an extremely picky eater, and many of those traits have found their way into my adult consumption habits. In particular this applies to meat. I would meticulously etch and scrape every scrap of fat, gristle or anything, which wasn’t clearly muscle mass, from meat. One of my problems with dining out is you never really know what a particular kitchens standards are in regards to the leanness of their meats. I’ve found Chinese food to be particularly sneaky. On the outside it may be a golden glazed gobbit of honey garlic pork, but one bite beyond the layer of oozing amber goodness reveals little more than a ring of fat encircling bone, like an obese Han army around a calcified Mongolian encampment.
Growing up I was an extremely picky eater, and many of those traits have found their way into my adult consumption habits. In particular this applies to meat. I would meticulously etch and scrape every scrap of fat, gristle or anything, which wasn’t clearly muscle mass, from meat. One of my problems with dining out is you never really know what a particular kitchens standards are in regards to the leanness of their meats. I’ve found Chinese food to be particularly sneaky. On the outside it may be a golden glazed gobbit of honey garlic pork, but one bite beyond the layer of oozing amber goodness reveals little more than a ring of fat encircling bone, like an obese Han army around a calcified Mongolian encampment.
Another instance, which was a cause of my trauma, was when I picked up some dumplings to steam at home from one of the local bakeries. Knowing my trepidation of questionable meat quality I picked up the “vegetarian” option. It wasn’t until I had got home that I read the ingredients and one of the first listed was “Baby pork back fat”. Apparently if you’re only eating the fat, and none of the lean, it somehow counts as veggie. Of course, once I’d managed to deal with the little bit of vomit that leapt to my mouth I chucked the dumplings in the garbage. Sorry, baby pork back fat, you won’t be meeting your destiny with my stomach.
This is not a neurosis specific to Chinese food by any means (don’t even get me started on the Hungarians!), but in a city such as Vancouver with so much Chinese culture and foods to explore, it can be difficult to effectively “dive in” knowing what my degustational limitations are.
When in Rome, go vegetarian.
This being said, what better way to explore/get over my revulsion than to give it a go myself? First item to reclaim for my finicky palate: Chinese BBQ pork. Not a clue what I’m gonna do with it yet.
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