Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Burning The Ten O'Clock Oil

I am tired from my 12-hour day of regular teaching plus parent conferences, a bit queasy from greasy Chinese takeout recommended by a colleague, and not really of a mindset to be clever and charming.

As a public service announcement, I suggest that Sweet & Sour Pork is a dish best left unordered, as it will injure your eyes in looking for the pork. However, for lovers of greasy breading and sugary sauce, it can't be beat.

In the unicorn-and-rainbow department, the students have an early out on Thursday, while we have more conferences until 6:00, for which we earn A DAY OFF ON FRIDAY!!!


knancy said...

Perhaps you should stick with sweet & sour soup.
The take-out sweet & sour pork around here is also hard on the eyes because of the RED, and I mean RED, color of the pork? and the sauce. Unreal neon. They must have stocked up on red dye #2. There are no good Chinese restaurants left in this city, they have been over run by cheaply done Chinese buffets and take outs. The buffets are horrible not only because of the food but because of the fat (300lb) clientele carrying heaped plates of it in their pudgy hands back to the seats in which they cannot comfortably fit. Disgusting. I can't eat in a pig sty.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Wow! You could see the pork? By the time I stripped off the breaded breading, I was left with nothing but a little black strip. And some of the pieces had none. It could have been a cricket leg for all I could tell. One piece was a bit chunkier, and tasted like a chicken liver. That's when I stopped eating. I love a good chicken liver, but not when I'm supposed to be eating sweet and sour pork. Who knew they would batter it and fry it like sweet and sour chicken. I don't go for that crap.

We have a good Chinese buffet here in Hillmomba, located right across the street from The Devil's Playground. Sometimes in the morning, you can see one of the restaurant workers pulling a big red wagon across the road in order to buy the day's ingredients.

I can deal with the oversized buffeteers, buffeters, buffet-eaters, whatever you want to call them. My problem is with those cart-riders in The Devil's Playground. Now that the aisles are crammed full of stuff that falls apart even faster than it used to, there is no room to pass. And the bevy of offspring orbiting the cart are garnering my good will.