My Trip to Ching Chang Chong Rice Hut
Last weekend I took a delightful trip down to my local Asian restaurant, fittingly called the Ching Chang Chong Rice Hut. When I walked in the door I was happily greeted by a plump Chinese man named Mao Zedong. He then showed me my table which was oddly placed inside a Mongol yurt. I awkwardly sat inside where I was greeted by a beautiful Chinese woman. Maybe it was because of her tiny, foot bounded feet, but something about her attracted me. Softly she stated, "Welcome to the Ching Chang Chong Rice Hut. I am your waitress, Wu."
I then placed an order for their finest fried rice, which I had heard was outstanding. Moments later I was looking at a steaming hot plate of golden brown rice. It smelt amazing. Before I could start to eat it my waitress Wu blurted out, "This is our signature fried rice, Ching of the Chong Fried Chang Rice. It was prepared with only the finest ingredients: rice, eggs, butter, oil, chicken, onions, carrots, and spices. All of these ingredients were originally from our home land China in the Old World, and then traveled by means of European explorers. "Ummm, okay…" I said, thoroughly confused. After this brief and unasked for history lesson, I dove into a world of flavors. The texture of the rice was like the tiny feet of my ethereal waitress: warm and soft and beautiful. Speaking of feet, this dish knocked the socks off mine. I'm not kidding. My socks were literally on the floor. When Wu came back to my table, she saw my wrinkled feet and unclipped toenails. She was so ashamed she kicked me out of Ching Chang Chong Rice Hut. I only had one bite of the fried rice, but it was really good. So good. Almost as good as some nice bound Chinese feet.
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