Asian mindset and $1 duck buns (Corner 28)

Let me tell you something about being Asian. Sure, it's an absolute given that we're all super dope at math, physics, chemistry, and can probably fix your computer when you've clearly been looking at too much porn in your free time. Yes, we love eating rice, pork, and intestines from various different types of animals - preferably together in the same dish. And of course, we can catch flies with a pair of chopsticks, we run at the sight of large reptillian creatures, and we have a weird appreciation for cartoons that give young children seizures. All of the above are true. It's not me being racist, it's me writing non-fiction. But something that you might not know (actually, most people probably do know this) is that we're all cheap as hell. Now, that's not to say Asians don't spend money stupidly, but when a decision comes down to money, Asians, in general, are very frugal. Now, let me tell you something about myself. I make extremely stupid decisions in life. For example, I once bought $35 dollars worth of McDonald's apple pies. That's roughly 65 apple pies. Why did I do that? No comment, but it was illegal. What does this have to do with being Asian?

When you combine my stupidity with the fact that my mind is hard-wired to have a boner for cheap things... well, the perfect shitstorm starts brewing. Case in point, you know those Hong Kong egg cakes they sell in Chinatown? Fifteen for a $1, but also buy five get one free? Yeah. Ninety of those dumb spherical cakes (despite a scent that's downright addicting) is never a good idea. But my mind tells me it's a good idea... at the time. Or, there's a place on Bayard that sells buy one get one free bubble tea. They have a small size for $3.50, which is 500cc, or a large for $4.00, which is 700cc. My stomach says "you don't really want to drink 1.4L of bubble tea right now..." just get 1L for $3.50 (yes, I usually drink both), but my mind says "if you get the large that's .28 cents per cc instead of .35 cents - do that instead!" Of course I usually regret this, but you see my point. I am dumb + Asian = I buy large quantities of things that I end up regretting greatly.

I do this frequently at Corner 28. If you don't know what Corner 28 is... read here for some non-idiotic background.



Anyway, what are they (if you didn't happen to read Tia's post)? Basically, if you took fluffy gua-bao type wrappers, shoved in some second-rate Peking duck and scallions, and then slathered it with sauce to make it moist and tasty and junk, then you get Corner 28's duck buns. If you're expecting the thin pancakes wrapped with crispy-skinned Peking duck, then keep on walking... these bitches are $1. Don't expect too much and they're awesome. How awesome? Last time I went, I bought 12 of them. That's right, a dozen (and this was after dinner). What do you do with 12 duck buns? Fuck if I know, I didn't actually eat all of them at once. I just thought it was cost-effective since 1) it takes an ass-long time to get to Flushing and 2) I already paid for transit. "That sounds brilliant! You're a genius of uncomfortably arousing and indescribable proportions!" you say? No. Do you know what happens when you wait several hours to eat them? When they're freshly sliced off the duck, and the skin is still semi-crisp and oh-so-oily, these things are the freakin' bees knees. After a couple of hours though... when the skin has gelatinized with fats, the bun is soggy from condensation, and the sprig of scallion is no longer stiff, and erect, these things taste like straight cancer. If you can imagine inhaling the second-hand smoke from someone and ingesting so much of it that the taste lingers in your throat for several minutes. That is what stale duck buns taste like. Don't do it kids. It's worse than drugs. That's not to say I don't think everyone should go and eat $1 duck buns, just don't be stupid like me and get more than you can eat while they're fresh.

tl;dr - Asian people are thrifty, I am stupid and Asian. There are $1 duck buns in Flushing at Corner 28, they taste super dope when they're fresh, but taste like stale cigarettes after a few hours. You should still go to eat them, they are quite awesome... again, when they're fresh.

author's comment: I don't actually speak for all Asians, most of what I wrote is just about me... so calm your hormones if you're actually offended.

Corner 28
4028 Main Street, Flushing, NY 11354
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Peking duck... from a stall

It's been raining non-stop for the past week, up until the day of 端午節 a.k.a. the Dragonboat Festival (sorry, I guess I should be posting about zongzi). Why does this matter? Because for the past week, I've been held prisoner in my apartment by ever present rain clouds. So when the weather cleared up, ever so slightly, I went out venturing to find a place called 金廚北平鴨 or 'Golden Kitchen Peking Duck.' When I got there, I found that this Peking duck 'restaurant' was no more than a hole-in-the-wall on 師大路 (Shi Da Road), near the night market. I wasn't entirely sure whether I should've been impressed or disappointed, given how 2-bit this rather well known place seemed to be. One way or another, I wasn't leaving without some duck, especially since it started pouring when I was there.



As I looked in the glass, I was eerily mesmerized by the hanging ducks. Yes the shop seemed rather rundown, but the food looked downright tantalizing... whole ducks, donning crispy and 'puffed out' skin, glistening with bright red duck sauce/oil. I quickly placed an order for half a duck, which cost 240 NT (just short of $8), and stood patiently as they went to work on it. They slice off the surface layer of meat, which is to be eaten with thin pancakes called 薄餅 (bao bing), sweet bean paste, and scallions. Then the rest of the duck, bones and remaining meat, are stir fried with chives and other greens to be served separately. They handed me my order... the sliced duck, the stir fry, and the pancakes, and I left. Into the downpour. The entire walk back home (like 2 miles!) was done in sandals and soaking jeans. All I could think was "this better be some crazy good duck." Seriously, this was flood worthy rain.



And ohhh, it was. That's what I meant by sliced duck. Each piece just thin enough that there's appreciable meat, accompanied by enough crisp skin for texture. As I mentioned, in each thin pancake, you place a single piece of duck (okay, if you're like me you sneak two in), smother it with sauce, and add a piece of raw scallion. It's the Chinese burrito, but without the accompanying gas ha. The other dish, the stir fry also tasted good enough, heavy on the chive flavor, with a hint of herbal medicine. I did not take a picture. Being completely honest, it wasn't very photogenic. Was this place good? Well, I don't think I'd brave torrential rain again, but yeah it was, maybe not as good as a dedicated Northern Chinese restaurant, but better than the $1 bun place in Flushing. To get authentic Peking duck for $8 is fine by me.
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