Mom and Dad were totally spent from partying the previous night that they decided to skip the lunch party and go for a massage instead. After a nice Italian lunch with my new French friend Michel, listening to him talk about everything from molecular gastronomy to excavated Greek sculptures of Buddhism figures to Russian miracle cosmetics made from sturgeon DNA, I caught up with Mom and Dad. We each had a foot and body massage, and it was quite nice. It's a place Mom found on Longjiang Street. It's well-lit and clean, which are such important but often overlooked details.
#151 Longjiang Street
Masseuse #66 worked on me. I like her.
Afterwards, we headed to Uncle James' house. As soon as I walked in, Uncle James came up to me, shook my hand, said "happy new year," but wouldn't let go of my hand. Taking my hand hostage, he brought me into his kitchen and said, "you have to eat my mifen (米粉). I just made it." For a man whose reputation is that of a workaholic and probably doesn't even know where the broom in his house is kept, making mifen was quite a feat. And he was so proud of it. Buddy will tell you.
He opened the cabinet and asked, "which bowl would you like? How about this one? Here, take the big one. Here are the chopsticks." He gave me a soup bowl. As I helped myself to already a big serving, he took my chopsticks and bowl and said, "have more," and continued to pile in more mifen until it looked like a mifen mountain about to have a mudslide.
Uncle James, it was tasty! You should cook more often.