So far in my 31 years on this planet my greatest achievement has been finding my way to Sichuan River and masochistically swimming around like a dolphin in plates full of jumping fish, mala tenderloin, garlic eggplant and Sichuan lamb. I party. I have not been married or had the birth of a child, I have however lived a full life and am thankful for the noodles, tender egglplant and mouth numbing umami flavors that only Sichuan River's sweet meats can provide. I have a mother, father and sister who love me dearly, I can only hope that one day they too will be able to attack a glistening plate of cold, spicy marinated beef and tendon whilst in preparation for a literal vat of Sichuan life nectar about to be bestowed unto them. After my time is done here, I can only hope that more people will have the epiphany that comes when you finally close your eyes and a heaping plate of pork elbow is placed in front of you, tickling your nose with wisps of spicy indoor air and as the cumin and fiery peppers tango in your nasal and for a brief moment you awake, lucid, staring down from atop the dismal wesgate shopping-center at the mortal coils sitting below entranced at the sight of a beautifully braised pork elbow gently orbing above a mountain of dried chilies and chopped green onion all pulsing around the plate like decadent cherubim. I am moved to special order a set of chopsticks, forged from interplanetary elements in the mouth of an active volcano, the ironsmith dangling from ropes made of medieval molten silver blessed by Ronnie James Dio himself while ever-chanting monks encircle the base of the smoldering mountain, keeping everwatch. Like a the sword of a legendary Samurai, light shall never touch the blade of my chopstick unless blood is to be drawn, and by blood I mean toasted chili oil. I will have a special satchel made, assembled from the pelts of animals long extinct and will wear it on my belt so that I am always ready, at a moments notice, to attack the River. The Sichuan River.
I'd like to thank everyone in my life that helped me get here. I couldn't have done it without you guys and I am so thankful and humbled. In this short life, I have done many things with many people and some of you have have plunged headfirst into piles of steaming Singapore noodles letting a faint hint of curry smoke roll off your furrowed brow with me, others have dominated endless plates of succulent, velvety, hand-made dumplings and perfectly balanced Chinese black vineagar sauces. Still few of you have sat with me, scared, trembling, weeping and screaming as mango smoothies, eggdrop soup, sour pig trotter and garlic snowpea leaves have careened over the table like the invading Hun armies once took over parts of Southern Mongolia, leaving villages pillaged and burned to the ground (much like the plates of whole Sichuan fish that we devastated in late July). I hope that one day, we can all meet again, hand in hand and sit down for one last round of mouth numbing Sichuan donkey-punch, mess-up your whole week spiciness and emerge into the daylight like an 8 hour stripclub bender screaming like the last scene in Braveheart....FOR WESTGATE SHOPPPING CENTER WILL RUN RED WITH THE SPICY SESAME OIL OF THE NONBELIEVERS.....FOR ONE DAY, TOGETHER WE SHALL HUNT AGAYN.
Seriously though, do any of you guys want to go to Sichuan River? Like now? read more