Friday, May 06, 2011

Joe's Shanghai: Dumplings Nazi

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I showed up on time and there was a long line. Amy Cao and Jeremy Frank had not RSVPd. Soraya Darabi RSVPing does not count, she does the Scott Heiferman thing, I have noted a few times. Scott will RSVP for events to be there in spirit. Besides, I was aware of the ongoing 99 Percent Conference. And I am thinking, there is this ridiculously long line, and Nick Rovisa is the only name and face I seem to remember from the RSVP list. If he does not show up, I will not even know who to look for. 10 minutes later I just went in.

But before that I had a wonderful conversation with this woman right outside who gave me some great personal advice. She had been to Joe's Shanghai a few times. This was my first time.

I got taken to this table where nine others were already seated. I was not dining with nine foodspotters, but I was going to dine with nine people alright. The two women to my left were talking about this woman who supposedly had a crush on someone. I tried hard not to listen, but it is not like I could have moved further. My soup!

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Having Mango Lassi: Do Not Disturb

The guy to my right engaged in some small talk.

"Is this your first time here?" I asked him.

"Oh no, I come here every time I am in town," he said.

This was my first time, and I live in the city.

When my dumplings finally arrived, I could see why. These were some amazing dumplings. They were juicy inside. I don't know how you do that.

The service was great. They did things fast. Before you even sat, they brought the menu, before you had had a chance to look, they wanted your order.

"Where are your dumplings?" I asked.

"That would be number 10," the guy said and simply left. I guess I had placed my order.

They gave you a few slices of orange when they decided it was time for you to leave. You took the first bite and the bill arrived. Cash only.

The line was as long when I left as it was when I got in.

Afterwards I went ahead and had a haircut a few blocks away. The guy gave me just the perfect haircut, made me look nice. I will show up and they always ask, how do you want it cut?

"Give me a Bruce Lee haircut," I say each time, and not just in Chinatown. I have said that to Indian and Bangladeshi barbers.

The guy did his best on the back and the sides. But the front part is hard. I got Indian hair. Bruce Lee haircuts ask for different kind of genes.

I like my hair short. That way you don't have to comb it. In the front I like the Bruce Lee drop. But that only works for me when the hair is short. When my hair gets long, it goes Bollywood, but it has not been that long a very long time.

Then I walked across the Williamsburg Bridge. The last time I mentioned location at this blog I said I was in Jackson Heights. New York City is the most diverse city in the world. Queens is the most diverse borough. Jackson Heights is the most diverse locale in Queens, not to say its biggest train station. No, it's not just Indians and South Asians. There are people from all sorts of countries there.

But that is old information. I have since moved. No, I am not doing the couchsurfing thing, or at least not yet. My nomadic lifestyle continues.

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