Friday, October 10, 2008

Shame on me! No cookies for me!

How dare I neglect this blog for so long?!
I'm terribly sorry. Life has been hectic, as usual.
My sister, Anna, is doing fine. She's been eating like a pig, as usual.
Just for today, let's step outside the subject of Anna (the Man-Eating Cow) for two seconds, and talk about her family, the people who were there to witness the progress of Anna as a two year old toddler devouring a cow, to Anna the eighteen year old cow devouring a man.

First, let's meet Mr. and Mrs. Li

Please don't be fool by their friendly smiles. They are 100% complete dorks. In fact, if you look closer, you can see horns sprouting from Mr. Li's head. Ha!

I know, I know.

My parents are dorks :).

Now, how does this relate to a food blog? My parents met working in the same restaurant in China. She was a waitress and he was a cook. A quick detour from the story: my mother told me how they used to calculate the dim sum charge by seeing how many small plates, medium plates and big plates are on the table. Some time later, the restaurant was noticing that they weren't only losing money, they were also missing ALOT of plates. Turns out the cheap Asian customers were throwing plates out of windows when the waitresses weren't looking to cheapen their bill. So then the waitresses started to stamp a card to show how much dim sum they served.

Anyways, back to the dor..uhm.. parents. After my parents came to America and worked off their debt to my uncle, they saved up enough money to purchase a small restaurant in Upper Darby. Ever since then, our entire lives been revolved around food. While normal kids get chores such as washing dishes and laundry, Anna and I started off as pitiful shrimp peelers, fortune cookies wrapper, snow-peas and string beans.. thingie removers and eventually upgraded to order takers and phone answerers for the restaurant.
As normal Asian parents, my parents are incapable of touchy display of affections therefore they resort to normal asian parents's display of affections: food. The amount of food they shoveled on our plates were suppose to demostrate the love they have for us. I guess partly because as a child, my father didn't have much to eat so now each time me or any of my sisters express a liking towards a certain food, he would go out and buy a trunkload of it or cook it excessively for the next month. While this is not particularly helping me with my weight, it's nice to know that my parents have a way of expressing their love.

Yea, they are dorks. But I still love them... at times.

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