I was born in love with Chinese food. My mother tells this story about a fall I took as a toddler. She and Auntie Dora couldn’t run down the flight of stairs as fast as I could tumble, and when I got to the bottom and they finally caught up with me, I had one thing to say for myself: I want Chinese food!
I don’t have it very often because I like taking for granted that my pants will zip. Fortune cookies are boring food, no salt, no sauce, no spice. But those little slips of paper keep me cracking them open. If I could write my own little slip of paper, though, and not have to ingest ungodly amounts of orange chicken and pork fried rice, (hold the egg, please) I think I would start like this:
• Be appropriately extravagant just for one day.
• Allow your inner over-achiever to lead you.
• Resist all tendencies to hide your head in your sphincter.
