deja food

On my last night in Taipei, some friends of my parents invited us to dinner. When we arrived, paparazzi were stationed at the entrance. Apparently some local politician being courted by the President-elect was being dined and wined as he considers the offered cabinet position.

This meal was a virtual replica of every restaurant meal I recall from my childhood in Taiwan. Instead of dim lights, we have for ambiance gas-station-bright fluorescent lights. Instead of soft music, we have the clinking of tea cups, the clacking of chopstick against chopstick, against teeth and porcelain, all enveloped in a deafening roar of chatter and laughter.

Since my parents' friends made clear they were hosting the dinner, I knew we'd avoid the meal-end fight to pay the bill. But other battles ensued. First, people deferred fervently to one another to say the prayer for the meal. Then, as the food arrived, people put the lazy susan to good use, insisting that others take the first of each dish. "You should go first! You're hosting." "No, you're the guest; you should go first." "You're older." "You rarely eat this stuff." Around and around we went, each round decreasingly amusing as I grew increasingly hungry and not a little dizzy.

The main dish of the night was Peking duck. As a waiter in another restaurant would bring out a bottle of wine before uncorking it, the waitress brought out the roasted duck - head and all - on a platter for inspection. As each dish was eaten and cleared, the waitress scraped remaining scraps onto the plates of a guest of her choosing. Nothing should go to waste.

The conversation jumped from stories of how one suitor pursued all four sisters at the same time in a game of romantic diversification, to the theological unsoundness of the Prosperity Gospel and popular worship songs, to "Where is Uganda? Uganda or Rwanda? I saw the Hotel movie. It was so sad and... Hey, waiter! Where's our soup? We ordered soup..."

After I lost count of the courses, the meal was finished. Hugs were hugged, hands were shaken, pictures were taken. Delirious from laughter and well on my way to a food coma, I headed home to ready myself for some Seoul-searching.