Here’s what I had for dinner: eight grilled mini-pork buns, eight pieces of steamed cauliflower, some whole-grain rice, a cold can of Heineken, and a bowl of shit.
Fu Qi Fei Pian
A few weeks ago my co-worker came to my house and dropped a mysterious mixture of goo and ooze contained within a plastic bag onto my kitchen table.
“I bequeath this bag of fu qi fei pian onto you, my brother,” without actually using any of those words.
When I first opened up the bag, I couldn’t believe that people actually ate this stuff. It was basically an amalgam of pig ears, intestines, stomach, tendons, peanuts, parsley, ligaments, and peppers. And who the hell knows what else.
I tried it for the first time a few days later for breakfast. I had a bowl of the stuff and felt like I was at a trough eating everything that was not meant to be eaten; all the stuff from a pig that butcher discards without a moment’s thought of its intrinsic value. I had to go to the bathroom 10 times that day. I went home and tried to dump the rest of it away…but something about it grabbed a hold of me. It wasn’t the scent, and it damn well wasn’t the sight. It was something more powerful, magical. To this day, I bow to the glory of it.
And tonight, I stopped off a bought half a kilogram. And I ate it. And it was wonderful. And soon I’m going to go to the bathroom. And after that, I’ll go again.
And tomorrow, I’ll go buy some more.
