I'm still pretty high from Chinese New Year. The prolonged break from the frustrations of ladypose moil, combined with the fact that I'm reading The Travels of Marco Polo, a mostly-true catalog of Marky Marc's impressions of unfamiliar provinces, has my soul incandescing daily with delight at the myriad subtle ways in which the Chinese mode of
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Thanks for blogging.
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my gut instinct still says: "mom will flip out if the business ends of the chopsticks are resting in the food." resting them (like a chord across a circle) on the rim of the bowl is always a safe bet. or making a hashi nest from your paper chopstick cover.
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