Flushing Queens, out of the Other Chinatown
Now that I've got the attention of all of you non-New Yorkers out there, let me explain: this post isn't about anything else than, yes, the other Chinatown. You see, we have two. Chinatown's, I mean.
One, as we all know, is located in Manhattan and infested with tourists and rats. The other, however, only gets the rats. Fear not, In New York we do share our rats equally, and they can be found just about anywhere. Tourists, on the other hand, follow the signs. And it so happens that there aren't too many signs pointing towards the second largest Chinese community in the Five Boroughs which is located in Flushing, Queens.
I was there recently, on a mission with no objective, a controlled drift of my photography (c)raft, focused but without an aim. It happened to be towards the end of the Chinese New Year celebrations. Martial arts teams were walking around the sidewalks and into stores doing dragon and lion dances, as per the famous ancient ritual. I followed and spied upon the show.
High in color and sound, the Chinese New Year displays have always impressed me, probably because I first witnessed them in Vancouver where I was biased to
Biltong Recovery
As Marie, sender of the goodies below, is flying at 35,000 feet across not-always-so-quiet Southern African skies just below the speed of sound, on her way to Amsterdam for a few hours layover and then a great circle hop across the Northern Atlantic back home, I am continuing the Biltong Experiment.
It's not looking so good. Mold fungi, it appears, is long lived.
It all started months ago with Marie's blessed obsession. Since I had not been able to make it down to South Africa with her this year, she decided to mail me the quintessence of all South African foods, biltong. Repeatedly. The first shipment, surprisingly, arrived intact and delicious. I feasted and the kitty achieved nirvana. All subsequent mailing attempts, unfortunately, failed miserably, victim of the ever-evil green mold (right).
Biltong, it would seem, does not travel well.
But here is the result of the last crusade. A defiant last stance, two entire sticks of biltong - rather than the usually sliced product - were sent in the mail, and alea jacta was. They arrived horribly covered by a thick layer of the nastiest green mold. But they were huge and, I figured, worth a rescue attempt. So I carved and trimmed and leaned,