Monday, April 11, 2011
This city slicker returned from a weekend in the country with his digestive system awry, so I had only a bowl of chicken rice soup at Wo Hop downstairs.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A day breathing big city air restored my appetite, so I headed out in the rain to find a new restaurant. The other day, I spotted a place on Bayard Street that seemed newly opened, but when I got there today, it only looked like it was about to open. Feeling a bit damp, I put aside my explorations and went into New Yeah Shanghai Deluxe, 50 Mott Street, which I had first visited February 19, 2010, soon after it opened. In spite of its varied menu, I ordered simply, Shanghai won ton soup ($3.95) and a scallion pancake ($1.95). They both were very good, the won tons a little more delicate than usual, the hot broth fighting the wet, chilly weather and the scallion pancake equally tasty and greasy.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
When I went to work this morning, I was concerned about the tripartite demand on my time for this evening. I had tickets for the first game in the Gotthelf/Glotzer Mets subscription series, the hockey playoffs begin with the Rangers on the road in Washington, and the board of West End Synagogue, struggling to maintain a role in the International Jewish Conspiracy, was holding its monthly meeting. Well, this dilemma fast faded a few minutes after I sat down at my desk, when I learned from my office mate Michael, e-mails, telephone messages at work, at home and on the cell phone, that I had purportedly told the world by e-mail that I was stranded in London without funds and was seeking financial assistance. That part had its amusement value, but the scoundrels changed the password on my internet account and, after sending the false cry for help, erased my entire list of e-mail addresses. I will be recreating the list for the next several days, no doubt. If you are reading this, I have succeeded, at least up to your place in the alphabet. The worst part is the loss of my world-class collection of fraudulent financial schemes described in approximations of the English language. That may be even more difficult to rebuild, but I received a kind note from Dr. David Adams, Coordinator, Malaysian National Sweeptakes (sic) Compensation Award, shortly after I regained control of my internet account. So, I guess I’m on the road to recovery.
Another sign of my resilience was finding a new restaurant, A Son Fuzhou Restaurant, 7 Eldridge Street. What was special about this small place, holding 5 round tables and 4 rectangular tables, was the complete absence of English. The menu was entirely in Chinese. It contains only numbers, – the telephone number and prices. You could have a $6.50, a $12.95 not too spicy, and a side of $3.95. The name of the restaurant does not appear in English on the menu; I only learned it from the sign out front. Fortunately, one interior wall is mostly covered with 8 x 10 color pictures of dishes, and the only other patrons were a young couple. Did I mention that the waitress did not speak English? The young girl at the next table, with bright red-copper hair, understood a little English. She was from Fuzhou Province on a visit to her parents. I pointed to pictures on the wall and she tried to find the right word to describe the food. I did not try to exhaust her supply of edible nouns and quickly chose the dish of fried fish ($16.95 – the waitress had learned something in die Goldene Medina), which was pretty good although about four dollars too much. I only used chopsticks to show that I, unlike lunch, was not a fish out of water.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
By lunch time today, I had recovered 67 of you for my e-mail list. I hope to approach the pre-hijacking number of communicants by the weekend.
I picked up new eyeglasses today. Chinatown probably has the densest concentration of optical shops in New York, and that means the world. There are at least nine on Mott Street alone, although two are well into Soho. Why is that?
Friday, April 15, 2011
I’m continuing to rebuild my contact list, but I need your assistance, especially those who wouldn’t cough up a few quid to spring me loose from that uncaring London hotel. Call or e-write all your friends, family and neighbors and ask them if they heard from Grandpa Alan this weekend, and, if not, have them send me their e-mail address. They shouldn’t be left out. Also, I’ve set up a Gmail account to front end my Yahoo account for additional security. In the future, my messages may emanate from either account. Best to respond to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Golden Unicorn Restaurant, 18 East Broadway, is not virgin territory (May 3, 2010), but I felt a return visit was desirable as part of my recovery process. I noticed that the eyes of the dragon and the phoenix on the wall were not blinking, but all else seemed the same. This time I had shrimp in wide rice noodle, roast pork sticky buns, beef balls and shrimp wrapped in bacon. Everything was very good, but, with tea and tax, the bill came to over $19. No one offered me the Big Nose discount that I have come to expect when eating dim sum on a weekday.
The following is an interesting tale: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/05/sister-schmuck-takes-a-stand/8445/