Hungry for Love

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Nathaniel Feldmann. Hungry for Love

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HUNGRY FOR LOVE

Nathaniel Feldmann

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Let’s be real, it wasn’t "just Dim Sum", but the best in the city. In a matter of minutes, we’d delight our tongues with dumplings made by hand, each fold crimped by arthritic fingers and stuffed with the juiciest fillings, some bursting with soup, asking to be slurped and smacked upon. I wanted to fill my mouth with flavor, broth dripping down my cheeks, a hundred little bowls of vinegars and spices to dip each bite, a smorgasbord of delicacies that can only come from a restaurant that has roasted ducks hanging in the windows.

To be perfectly honest, nothing turned me on more than sharing a meal with another man, especially one who enjoys the same luxurious tastes, who can hold chopsticks, and wouldn’t be afraid to order turnip cake or chicken feet; a man who drinks soup from the bowl, chews loudly, and belches after wiping the corners of his mouth for the last time. The most wonderful thing about this guy: he was the one who suggested this restaurant, which was my favorite spot in the entire city.

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