We’re becoming a bit Sinicized (“Chinese-ified”) around here.
Today for lunch, we went to an eatery where I ordered beef fried rice. It came with a soup and what initially looked like fish balls, but actually was stinky tofu. Ba-lech. Sorry Mom and Dad, I tasted it but I couldn’t get past the smell. I ate fried rice.
The Hubs’ had his usual. I think he eats dumplings (steamed, boiled or fried) at least once per week. This order had pork and green chard-like vegetable filling.
The best part of the day usually occurs at dinner, when we sit down as a family. Tonight I made spaghetti. Miss M asked for chopsticks. Who eats spaghetti with chopsticks? I reminded myself that the Chinese have been eating noodles for thousands of years, after all.
She’s becoming quite Chinese. Survival of the fittest. That’s my girl.