"Nice Food"

That's the name of the store where Chef Rhoda bought us a bunch of dim sum this morning, and we ate it standing on the street, sharing bites and making "yum" noises. Then she walked into the next shop and came out with a take-out box full of roasted duck, one that had been hanging in the window (head and all) just minutes before. More "yum" noises.

Our walking tour included a visit to the Tien Hau Temple on Waverly Place, where the caretaker was placing just-brewed cups of tea in front of the statues of the gods and goddesses. We passed the paper store, where you can buy elaborate paper "belongings" to burn at the graves of your loved ones, so they have the necessary items in the afterlife: paper houses and cars, paper cognac bottles, paper fast food. We peeked into the fortune cookie factory, where, despite automation, a little lady still has to grab the piping hot cookie off the baking surface and quickly stuff it and fold it into the requisite shape. We walked through the dry goods market, filled with bushels and bushels of dried fish, mushrooms, and other delicacies. Jordan was astounded to see deer tails selling for $350 each: "I just cut those things off and throw them aside," he said.

We stopped at the live game shop, where the customer used two hands to feel the chicken for plumpness before nodding to the shopkeeper, who put it in a bag for her. "It's still alive, isn't it?" asked Meghan. "Yes," said Chef. "But you can't take a live chicken on the bus. I once saw a lady wring a chicken's neck on the corner, so she could catch the next bus home."

We scoped out the kitchen implements store, where you can buy a 4-foot-long meat fork, "for roasting a pig," Chef said. And she took us to two tea tastings: the first at the elegant Imperial Tea Court on Powell Street, which has been designed to replicate a traditional Northern Chinese tea house, more of a social club. We received a short lecture on the history and processing of tea, then had a taste of jasmine, with an amazingly strong floral aroma and a more delicately flavored taste. We walked into one of Chef's favorite stores, the pet shop, so that we could see the beautiful fish. My classmates, more hip in the ways of Disney than I, were naming the various species: "There's Nemo. There's Dory."

Then we stopped at Vital Tea Leaf on Grant, a contemporary store designed like a wine bar, where we sat at a long counter and were entertained and served by Uncle Gee (who also demanded a hug before we left: "Now you are family!") He poured us five different teas, and gave us very specific directions about how to brew it. For example, after your kettle boils, wait a couple of minutes before pouring the water. Boiling water makes for bitter tea. The loose leaf teas from his store can be reused eight or ten times. (Within a 24 hour period -- otherwise, "You will be growing mushrooms!") We tasted another jasmine, a lychee black tea, crysanthemum, and puehr, the kind Chef Rhoda likes. Most remarkable was the tea called "Blue People," a ginseng-oolong blend with a beautiful sweet aftertaste. I could still taste the tea in my mouth when I retraced my steps back to the store with the roast duck, where I bought one and brought it home.