I hadn't eaten food from Chinatown in a while. Since it conveniently appears en route from campus to my dorm, I dropped by. On a Saturday night. Oops.
You know how it's usually hard to choose something from a Chinese restaurant menu because there are 500 choices? It can go both ways.
There's a shop on Mott Street that sells loads of tofu and noodles. And...this stuff. Even though I've passed it innumerable times, I've never tried it. With every other eating place either packed to the brim or closed/near closing, I relenquished two $1 bills in exchange for some unhealthy but life-sustaining (eh, at least for one night) food.
The turnip cake had a nice crust all around, my only complaint being that I couldn't cut through it with my plastic fork (which is why someone invented knives; good work). I dipped each bite in brown goo/oyster sauce but turnip cake tastes fine without sauce. If you've never had turnip cake before, I can't really describe. Yeah, if I were less lazy I could, but you know. Lazy. Just trust me when I say that it tastes good.
Taho is a dessert of silky tofu and sweet syrup. It would be better with honey (to satisfy my sometimes insatiable sweet tooth) but since it comes with a little container of syrup, I used that. Diluted by the tofu water in the container, my first thought was "Damn, I wish it were sweeter." I decided to just drink some of the syrup to see how sweet it was and...it's pretty sweet. If I get taho again, I should probably drain it first of something. However, it's not one of my favorite foods--I've eaten it once so far this year, and I had it once last year--so I don't know when I'd feel like trying honey taho.
I wasn't planning to eat a $2 dinner; who would? I thought I was going to eat dinner and see a movie with some friends, but the plans didn't pan out. No one's to blame, but I felt really...depressed. As you can see, I don't partake in many social activities so when something comes along that I might be interested in, I usually take advantage of it. Not only did that dinner plan come about, but my old roommate from last year invited me to her apartment for a Harry Potter party. I didn't feel like going by myself though, so I skipped that (also, I didn't want to be surrounded by food I couldn't eat...eh, yes, damn food). My mood was basically killed after waiting in the library (which isn't a fun place to sit in, if you've ever been there) for half an hour, unable to reach my friend's cell phone.
Despite being depressed, I was still hungry. No, not starving, but my stomach wanted something. Roaming around Chinatown was somewhat depressing as every restaurant looked crowded and I didn't want to wait long for something (I've never done take-out from any of the restaurants but I suppose most of them do that). I went to Fay Da Bakery on Mott Street with a hankering for a taro rice ball but there were so many people with arms outstretched with dollar bills and pastry-filled trays lining up on the counter that I figured it was best to leave.
The day before, I decided to actually cook a meal. Hell, I have a kitchen! And some cook-able food. And a baking tray. I should do something with those components.
So I did. I roasted two potatoes and one and a half onions (the half was leftover) in a 450 degree oven for about 20 minutes, during which the fire alarm went off TWICE because of the heat. It wasn't like the kitchen became a furnace, so I guess the alarm is just super sensitive. To avoid having my eardrums blasted with high pitched beeping, I'm just going to...not roast anymore. Not like I ever did it before.
Tired. Time for bed. You'll hear my asthma-rant later.