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Chop Phooey

I just can't do it.

I have tried and tried and tried.

But I just cannot eat with chop sticks.

I can mince an onion blindfolded but I can't make two bamboo sticks come together and pick up food for all the tea in China. (Pun totally intended.)

I can remember as a child being fascinated by people who could maneuver those two wooden sticks like they were extensions of their hands. It was almost like watching a ballet.

It was about the age of 10 that I gave chopsticks a try and I ended up shooting a chunk of sweet and sour pork onto my dad's lap and it was requested by my parents that I just be satisfied with using a fork.

And I was.

And I always have been.

And until recently I didn't realize it was such a faux paus to request a fork while dining on fine Chinese.

We were in Chinatown with a group of acquaintances and the warm Sake was flowing like water. When the waiter asked if anyone would like a fork, my "I would, please" was greeted by the entire table falling silent and people looking at me like I had just shouted that I wet my pants.

One girl at our table - a friend of a friend - rolled her eyes and said, "Oh my God." (She was a skanky 'ho bitch, anyway, and I totally felt justified telling her as much while in the ladies room at the Kareoke bar after dinner.)

So I am sitting there and the waiter graciously brought my fork and I ate my Kung Pao and drank my Sake in silence, secretly hoping every person at that table would accidentally poke their eyes out with those damned sticks. (I also completely overestimated my tolerance for Sake, which is another story for another time.)

But, I am a trooper and since that time I have taken the opportunity to practice as often as I can. I even had help from a professional. My friend married The Girl From Osaka and she sat with me one meal and showed me the proper technique and style and still I shot clumps of meat and vegetables all over the table like confetti on New Year's Eve.

In all of her Japanese graciousness she said, "You need fok - noting wong using fok."

I really miss her.

Anyway.

So today at lunch I decide to give a shot at eating my chow-mein and honey chicken with the pretty red chopsticks provided. I actually thought maybe I had mastered the honey chicken until the chopsticks twisted and rolled that damn chunk of meat down into my cleavage.

The darling waitress witnessed this incident and promptly brought me a fork and patted my hand.

"Noting wong using fok."
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Posted by Foodwhore at June 10, 2004 02:22 PM