Every winter, my mom used to make me go into Chinatown to get one specific ingredient.
Codfish heads.
According to my mom, the main body of the codfish is expensive itself, but the head is a heck of a lot cheaper and still has enough meat to make a decent soup. My mom makes this soup all the time because it is my grandparents favorite. (I generally stay away from it..)
I remember on one cold December day, I had went into the "Fu-Jo" (I hope I spelled it correctly) part of Chinatown. Its a bit farther away from the main bloodline of Chinatown, meaning that its farther from the main subway lines that I use to get home.
When I walked into the store, I had saw that the heads were crazy cheap
70 cents per pound. My mom told me to get as much as I could carry.
The heads were also attached to its backbone and tail. I thought it was reasonable to carry 6 of those bad boys this time, since I had no trouble carrying 3.
And to top it all, they also had my dad's favorite fish on sale, so I thought I would buy some of those to surprise him.
Maybe its because I didn't see what the fish underneath the first layer looked like..
but when they cut it up for me and put them all into two huge, neatly bound bags...(about 25-30 pounds each) They must have been some big ass Codfish.
I didn't know what I was about to get myself into. I couldn't tell these men to take back the fish they had already cut up. The last thing you want to do it piss off a Chinatown vendor.
especially when they're holding huge knives.
The moment I paid and got out the door, I was panting profusely.
I was holding the bags in such a way that would allow me to carry the bags of fish without letting it touch me. It was hard to hold onto the bags handles, because they were digging into my skin.
I had also only brought along only one, strong, reusable shopping bag..thinking that was all I needed..
I sat down in the park, right in front of the market.., and really thought about the shit I just put myself into. The train I take was already damn far. It was 4 o'clock at that time, I needed to be at the ferry by 6:30.
I thought it would be ok to go at a nice and easy pace..yes..
It took me a good half hour or so just to walk along one block, I kept stopping every 5 minutes or so to give my arms a break.
Then the worst happened.
The plastic shopping bag started to rip at the handles.
and the bag inside the stronger, shopping bag started to leak...
I started to notice that when I kept putting it down and noticing a wet spot, each time I picked it up.
It was going to be a long walk over.
At some point, I gave up on walking towards the usual route...I think it was the combination of walking through large crowds and the distance that stopped me..
I thought that..there had to be another route...a another train to take that would get me close enough to the ferry nearby.
I was wrong.
I think it took me another hour or so just walking along a fruitless path.
I contemplated calling up my friend to come down here and help me...but I thought she would kick my ass if it was because I needed help carrying leaking bags of fish..
One woman, just walking along, saw me struggling with the bags, and helped me while leading me to a train station nearby...
It was glorious..it didn't exactly stop near the ferry but close enough.
When I got out of the station, it was 10 mins to the 5:30 boat.
I heard the Rocky theme playing in my head, as I tried to run to the ferry.
When I made it, I knew I was offending some people because of the smell,
(someone exclaimed "dayum, its like a n**** bust a pipe!)
joy.
I went all the way down the lowest levels of the ferry to the outside. I sat out there for the rest of the trip.
Cold, stinging gusts of wind don't hurt as much as losing my dignity.
When my parents came to pick me up.
My mother just started to point and laugh obnoxiously at me..
I vowed to never do this again.
Codfish heads.
According to my mom, the main body of the codfish is expensive itself, but the head is a heck of a lot cheaper and still has enough meat to make a decent soup. My mom makes this soup all the time because it is my grandparents favorite. (I generally stay away from it..)
I remember on one cold December day, I had went into the "Fu-Jo" (I hope I spelled it correctly) part of Chinatown. Its a bit farther away from the main bloodline of Chinatown, meaning that its farther from the main subway lines that I use to get home.
When I walked into the store, I had saw that the heads were crazy cheap
70 cents per pound. My mom told me to get as much as I could carry.
The heads were also attached to its backbone and tail. I thought it was reasonable to carry 6 of those bad boys this time, since I had no trouble carrying 3.
And to top it all, they also had my dad's favorite fish on sale, so I thought I would buy some of those to surprise him.
Maybe its because I didn't see what the fish underneath the first layer looked like..
but when they cut it up for me and put them all into two huge, neatly bound bags...(about 25-30 pounds each) They must have been some big ass Codfish.
I didn't know what I was about to get myself into. I couldn't tell these men to take back the fish they had already cut up. The last thing you want to do it piss off a Chinatown vendor.
especially when they're holding huge knives.
The moment I paid and got out the door, I was panting profusely.
I was holding the bags in such a way that would allow me to carry the bags of fish without letting it touch me. It was hard to hold onto the bags handles, because they were digging into my skin.
I had also only brought along only one, strong, reusable shopping bag..thinking that was all I needed..
I sat down in the park, right in front of the market.., and really thought about the shit I just put myself into. The train I take was already damn far. It was 4 o'clock at that time, I needed to be at the ferry by 6:30.
I thought it would be ok to go at a nice and easy pace..yes..
It took me a good half hour or so just to walk along one block, I kept stopping every 5 minutes or so to give my arms a break.
Then the worst happened.
The plastic shopping bag started to rip at the handles.
and the bag inside the stronger, shopping bag started to leak...
I started to notice that when I kept putting it down and noticing a wet spot, each time I picked it up.
It was going to be a long walk over.
At some point, I gave up on walking towards the usual route...I think it was the combination of walking through large crowds and the distance that stopped me..
I thought that..there had to be another route...a another train to take that would get me close enough to the ferry nearby.
I was wrong.
I think it took me another hour or so just walking along a fruitless path.
I contemplated calling up my friend to come down here and help me...but I thought she would kick my ass if it was because I needed help carrying leaking bags of fish..
One woman, just walking along, saw me struggling with the bags, and helped me while leading me to a train station nearby...
It was glorious..it didn't exactly stop near the ferry but close enough.
When I got out of the station, it was 10 mins to the 5:30 boat.
I heard the Rocky theme playing in my head, as I tried to run to the ferry.
When I made it, I knew I was offending some people because of the smell,
(someone exclaimed "dayum, its like a n**** bust a pipe!)
joy.
I went all the way down the lowest levels of the ferry to the outside. I sat out there for the rest of the trip.
Cold, stinging gusts of wind don't hurt as much as losing my dignity.
When my parents came to pick me up.
My mother just started to point and laugh obnoxiously at me..
I vowed to never do this again.
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