theres very few people who i ask to take my photo with.
Peter Fang the owner and order-taker at my favorite chinese restaurant House of Nan King is on that short list

know why? cuz he doesnt f around. hes all business. he seems pissed but hes not. he has an empire to build, one dish at a time. its a small empire, now with two restaurants, but its an empire of quality and soul.

traditionalists poo poo the House but at 120pm in chinatown in san francisco theres only one place thats full, theres only one place where people are sitting shoulder to shoulder. theres only one place with no soy sauce on the tables or phony baloney chinese artifacts in every nook and cranny.

theres only Peter’s place. and its not expensive. tourists hear the word and when they go back they tell their friends about the best fried rice or soup or sweet potato chicken dish they had in the States and theyre talking about House of Nan King.

the only place in chinatown that sells a $20 tshirt and people, even me, buys it happily.

happy birs-day Peter said and it made me smile like someone who had just snorted MSG

and because of it the big man came to town

but i couldnt chill with him long cuz my truest bought us tix to frisco on virgin

but first we went to my favorite sushi place which turned down the lights and sang for me

got in to SFO got a shuttle from a long haired hippie freak playing whale songs and tom waits

checked into the hotel our room was horrible so i went down and said bro and he said oh and he stoked us

no like seriously from a closet of a room with no view to the best view ever and lots of room

took a quick shower, found a sweet freaky bar with a great view and drank

they played neil and all these groovy mellow tunes and we took it all in and smiled

found a liquor store, bought some bubbly and chocolates

ran into a taqueria and couldnt resist the 1:59am snack

now shes slipping into something uncomfortable and im counting my blessings, starting with you and you and you