"The crunch heard around the globe"
Scant times in my life have I sat through tormenting abandonment, insufferable heat, and diabolic hunger pangs whilst gazing out at the void with calm, content eyes. Today was a day of zen-like movements. The first step was the acknowledgement of self. The perception of surroundings. The taming of body temperature. The banishment of sweat. The floating movement towards the counter. The gentle greeting and choices were pointed out. Cash exchanged. Token number gracefully accepted. Table chosen. Posterior seated. And the wait begins.
There can be no greater test of human resolve than being seated at communal tables, taken with the gripping stealth of starvation, and witnessing plate after plate of delicate pink pork delivered to everyone but you, and the ghastly look of bliss on their faces as their teeth touch the outer membrane of animal desecration.
I battled with my carnal self. I battled to not reach over and steal a fatty piece of glistening pork belly when my neighbouring diner glanced sideways for a split second. I sat, counting the seconds until my salvation would be served.
It took almost an hour and a half, during which time I saw glee spread across an entire city block. I saw people stricken with lust-tinged gluttony upon receiving their takeaway boxes and hurrying off to Air Conditioned cars to go unveil the bounty to their families in resplendent shivers.
I made the acquaintance of a local Malaysian who lived in Melbourne who challenged me to "find a better pork anywhere in the world, I been coming here over a decade". I then watched said man receive his pork before me and facilitate the turns of digestion in admirable chomps. Fat dripped down his fingers as his memory danced with nostalgic rotations.
And finally, when hope was about to diminish, the short lady with keen eyes handed me my plates and whispered "Enjoy". Little did she know how much I would. I tore into the carcass of slain entities with blind abandon. I ravished at the porcine sacrament like a wild dog. Glistening fat instantly swallowed by menacing teeth and the carnal need for nourishment.
At times I hallucinated. Perhaps even blacked out. The intoxication of the sheer white fat, the pink-hued flesh and skin so crispy that it could break into your house, was almost too much to process. I waited until the first wave of ecstasy had abated. I spooned some fragrant rice in to cut the heaviness and desire. I ate a few slices of the Char Sui which were not as successful, I returned to the pork belly and drowned in its opulence until it was no more.
These recommendations are just personal opinions based on my palate, things change, chefs get fired or replaced, places open-close, relocate, so take it all with a pinch of MSG and discover your own gems too. But please do try a few of these, they have been researched exhaustively.
"Tastes are subjective, so take everything with a pinch of salty tears"