Picfic Tuesday: Chinese Food
Jun. 11th, 2013 08:34 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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“Illya, what is it with you and Chinese food?” Napoleon asked as he served himself beef and broccoli from a container on his partner’s table. “I’m not complaining, but I’ve noticed that any time you invite me to dinner, if it’s not sandwiches, it’s Chinese. I mean, this is New York City; it’s not like this is the only cuisine in town!”
The Russian was piling rice onto his plate followed by beef Szechuan Style and finally, two egg rolls. He took two large bites of food followed by a slurp of tea. “That is true, Napoleon. I have a…how do you Americans say it? Oh, yes, a soft spot for Chinese food.”
“Really? Pray tell, Partner Mine, how did you come to have this supposed ‘soft spot’ for Chinese food?”
The food disappeared from Illya’s plate like it had been vacuumed up. He set his dish down and leaned back to let his first helping settle. He looked at Napoleon and sighed as he thought, Why not? “When I was studying and Cambridge and the Sorbonne, I received a monthly stipend from the KGB. A very small stipend. All of it went to food. When the money ran out, I either went hungry or relied on the kindness of my fellow students.”
Napoleon finished his meal and leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his intermingled fingers. “’Kindness?’ Your friends wouldn’t let you starve! Would they?”
“It is hard to make friends when you have no money to do anything social. Sometimes, there would be free things to do, but completely free events were few and far between. There were a few girls who fed me, but when they realized I could only bed them because I had no money to take them clubbing or drinking, they would drop me.” He fell silent for a few minutes and re – filled his plate, this time with shrimp egg foo young.
Napoleon for his part remained quiet as he absorbed what he had heard, so far. He remembered his college years; the partying, the drinking, the dating and how it got better his sophomore year because the incoming freshmen girls thought of him as an upperclassman. He had pledged a fraternity and was a popular guy. It made him a little sad that his friend’s college experience had been so devoid of the things that had made his time in higher education memorable. Illya would kill me if he thought I was feeling sorry for him. He cleared his throat and asked, “And, this has what to do with Chinese food?”
“Chinese takeaway was cheap and plentiful and the only thing I could afford. Sometimes, I would be given extra rice or noodles for my wonton soup. And, of course, one or two teabags came with my order which I would use for my morning cup.”
Napoleon smiled as he ate an almond cookie. “One would think that would be reason enough to never eat Chinese again.”
“There is a difference between eating something because you have to and eating it because you want to. New York has excellent Chinese food.”
“Excellent Chinese food and good company to share the food. We are fortunate, my friend.”
Illya poured tea for both of them. Handing one off to Napoleon, he raised his teacup and replied, “We are.”
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