A “moment” from each month I spent in NYC. Sometimes tasty, always truthful.
Month 21: January 2014
She’s gathered all of her friends at one table for her birthday celebration here at the Golden Unicorn, a popular Chinatown destination for dim sum. In all my twenty-four years, this is my first time having dim sum, that Chinese food experience where waiters wheel carts of hot food past you and you take what you want to eat right off the cart. We’re sitting in the middle of a large banquet hall, and most people around us are Asian through and through. I feel out of place and I love it. “But what is that,” I ask Rose, who has been here frequently, as a cart of pink dumpling-esque bundles rolls by. The cart pusher repeatedly hollers the name of the food at us inquisitively, but unfortunately nobody here speaks Chinese accent with a side of English. “I’m not totally sure,” Rose responds. “You never really are.” What body part of what animal could this be? I guess the not knowing is the beauty of participating in such an authentic experience. “Two for the table,” I say and hold up two fingers just in case the cart pusher doesn’t speak English with no side of Chinese accent. “Let’s do this.”