Immigration Dept., thou art a demon from the depths.
Posted: March 28 08, 11:37 am
Why? Why, oh why, did you deport all the wondrous and colorful peoples that toiled so diligently at Bangkok Sylivia, that Thaiwanese provider of repast 'til recently within walking distance of myself? They harmed no one; merely provided sustenance and refreshment for reasonable recompense.
Oh, for that once boisterous staff of culinary necromancers with their multi-hued bandannas and occult runes of body art peering from below the cut off sleeves of their tunics; pots and woks, like alchemic cauldrons, clanging beyond the swinging door to Xanadu. I near insanity, as I yearn for that particular sultry hostess. In what new domain do you now cavort? Who waits for you to surrender, with twittering laugh and flirtatious smile, a takeout of Gaeng Khiao Wan Gai with a side of hot chile oil that sears like the fires of paradise, resting gently in a foil cradle, steam gently gathering on its opaque enclosure, coyly obscuring the contents as through a sheer ensconced window a beautiful woman is hidden and yet observed?
Rather, I'm tortured by two 1.6 oz (45.4 g) beef patties, iceberg lettuce, American cheese, pickles, onion and Special Sauce (a Thousand Island dressing variant) served on a three part sesame seed bun captured in a faux cardboard cage-like entrapment; to be apportioned with a baking potato like an Idaho russet, or any other variety that is mealy, or starchy, rather than waxy; harvested, cured, washed, peeled, sliced, and then blanched, dried, and followed by a brief dip in a sugar solution (which gives them their golden-brown color)then a thirty-second deep fry, to give the potatoes a crisp shell; whereupon the fries are frozen until the moment of service, when they are deep-fried again, this time for somewhere around three minutes; salted mightily and funneled into a paper bag; stuffed into yet another, larger bag and unceremoniously thrust upon me by a pimply adolescent with a tattoo of a giggling, red children's daytime TV show character on his pale white forearm, only after I've surrendered to him an exorbitant amount of my hard-earned stipend for so measly a return.
Alas. And woe is I. With apologies for improper punctuation.
Oh, for that once boisterous staff of culinary necromancers with their multi-hued bandannas and occult runes of body art peering from below the cut off sleeves of their tunics; pots and woks, like alchemic cauldrons, clanging beyond the swinging door to Xanadu. I near insanity, as I yearn for that particular sultry hostess. In what new domain do you now cavort? Who waits for you to surrender, with twittering laugh and flirtatious smile, a takeout of Gaeng Khiao Wan Gai with a side of hot chile oil that sears like the fires of paradise, resting gently in a foil cradle, steam gently gathering on its opaque enclosure, coyly obscuring the contents as through a sheer ensconced window a beautiful woman is hidden and yet observed?
Rather, I'm tortured by two 1.6 oz (45.4 g) beef patties, iceberg lettuce, American cheese, pickles, onion and Special Sauce (a Thousand Island dressing variant) served on a three part sesame seed bun captured in a faux cardboard cage-like entrapment; to be apportioned with a baking potato like an Idaho russet, or any other variety that is mealy, or starchy, rather than waxy; harvested, cured, washed, peeled, sliced, and then blanched, dried, and followed by a brief dip in a sugar solution (which gives them their golden-brown color)then a thirty-second deep fry, to give the potatoes a crisp shell; whereupon the fries are frozen until the moment of service, when they are deep-fried again, this time for somewhere around three minutes; salted mightily and funneled into a paper bag; stuffed into yet another, larger bag and unceremoniously thrust upon me by a pimply adolescent with a tattoo of a giggling, red children's daytime TV show character on his pale white forearm, only after I've surrendered to him an exorbitant amount of my hard-earned stipend for so measly a return.
Alas. And woe is I. With apologies for improper punctuation.