As a white girl on a mission to find a very specific Chinese herbal formula made by a very specific company somewhere in some shop in Chinatown, I'm fully aware of my chances: it's either gon' be *so* easy, or it's so not gonna happen. My TCM (who is a miracle worker, not even in the hyperbolic way, but in the dozens-of-western-doctors-said-I'd-never-be-fixed, but he fixed me kind of way) prescribed me some kind of qi invigorating formula, but only had enough in stock to last me one week. His prescribed length? A few months. And my doctor is located in Saskatoon.
So, to Chinatown I go.
Sure, there are options o'plenty -- countless dried food stores selling countless dried consumables for relatively similar prices -- it may seem like shooting fish in a barrel, but I assure you, it is not always the case. For whatever reason, a number of these same shops that sell that stank dried fish and mushrooms and gadknowswhatever else also like to only sell dried herbs for consumption. I've been down this road many times, I know what that smell is like. It's putrid. I am in no mood to boil these herbs, pinch my nose, and consume this voodoo. Gimme aaalll the pills. And, to my good fortune, Chinese Herbs (seriously, that is their name) will.
Empty bottle in hand for display purposes, I showed the woman what I needed, she plopped four boxes on the counter in front of me, charged me exactly what my TCM charges, and I went on my way.
They also sell Ovaltine... what ailment that'll cure is beyond me. read more