Nasty Pussy

Friday night, 15th of September 2006. End of Summer, Seattle-style. The Freaks are out, in full force. A house party first, which turns out to be lame. Skeet-daddle to the Decibel festival, where I am psyched to go to Neumo's / Bad Juju to see the only friend-from-grade-school-who-I've-ever-caught-up-with-in-my-later-life's band, Telefon Tel Aviv. The show was awesome. The sound got kinda muddy towards the end, but it was really good bassy noise and flashing lights and pretty people. Who knew there were all those glitchcore fans in Seattle!
Loose some pals to drunken horniness. DT & I walk back to the lame house party, where Jones has ended up. Jones is definitively 1.85 sheets to the wind, and DT and I are both hungry. It's 12.55 and in seattle, that means that there is no Good Merkin Food to be got. (1am is the late-night cut off for Merkin restaurants with ranges in addition to deep fryers.) So we decide to go to Sea Garden.

The last time Jones & I were at Sea Garden, we eavesdropped like hungry-ear-compys on a conversation being had at the table next to us. It was some sort of off-hour first date, we were there around 12.30, and the couple was a Wedgewood-type naturalist / ecofreak man with a very FOB Asian lady. The man was trying to explain psychedelic mushrooms to his companion. Unfortunately, the details elude me, now that it's 8 months or so later, but it went something like this:

She: "OOh, this has mushrooms in it! I love mushrooms!"
He: "I like mushrooms too. I especially like the mushrooms that allow you to talk to spirits!"
She: "Spirits? What do you mean? Like television?"
He: "There are some mushrooms that let you see *inside* things. Like the spirits in the plants and animals."
She: "I want some! Let's see if they have any here!"
He: "You can't really buy them."
She: "So you have to find them? Do they grow here?"
He: "No, you buy them, but it's sort of underground."
She: "No, no no, you can't have a black market for mushrooms! I am sure they have them at Uwajimaya."

This time, we were seated next to a table of very obnoxious asian kids. They were all about taking calls and meeting people and doing deals of some sort, loudly, but un-funnily.

We started our stoner feast with an order of fried scallops with pepper. They were fucking awesome, and we ate them so fast that no photos were taken. Slightly sated, we had the presence of mind to order some additional dishes.

me: OOh, i want tofu with crab!
jones: OK but-
me: OOh, and I want shrimp vermicelli hot pot! And pea vine with garlic! And ...
DT: And I want Wonton.
Jones: Let's get some pork. You [DT] & I can split it, there will be enough food. What do you think?
me: OK with me.
jones: OOh, let's get steamed pork with salted fish! that has everything delicious! Fish, salt, pork! I will love it! Yah Yah Yah!
DT: sounds good to me too! Let's get that!

We ordered the tofu with crab, the vermicelli hot pot, the wonton soup without incident. However, we should have known something was amiss when the waiter was extremely reluctant to believe that Jones really did want to order the steamed pork with salted fish.

Our dishes arrived in the haphazard and inscrutable way that only Chinese restaurants can manage to work out. We were delighted by the crab & tofu, though it might have appeared to the uninitiated to be a gelatinous mess superheated to a near-liquid viscosity. The tofu itself was a perfect silky squishy firm, the crab pieces succulent claws. The wontons were "fluffy and plump," the broth slightly spicy and buttery. The vermicelli hot pot was fucking NUCLEAR hot (heat-hot) - it arrived at the table boiling and steaming; hissing a little bit, too.

We all were really enjoying the feast we had, and I believe both Jones & DT were psyched to try some other odd-ass delicacy from the Sea Garden.
...

A smell approaches our table. I feel a sort of proustian nostalgia come over me, but when the dish lands on the table, all i can say is "that smells like pussy you don't want to eat." And it did. It smelled just like a pussy that was frequently available to eat, and only 1 time did i act on that availability. The memories that smell brought were strong, but not as strong as the smell itself. Pungent, meaty, and very sour fishiness.

DT took a bite, and said "EWW. Pbttbttbtt." and shuddered, before launching into a short monologue about the very short list of Foods he Doesn't Like, which had just gained a new entry. Jones, who does, in fact, like Century Eggs, and loves pork products like many people like, say, oxygen, won't let the smell nor DT's review stop him from trying it. Though later, he says that his stomach was doing flip flops and he brought the chopsticks to his mouth Against His Better Judgement, at the time, he made a wonderful impression of someone enjoying what he was doing to himself. He took the first bite, not without a grimace, but without trepidation. And the second. And the third. And then the facade fell.


The photo shown above does no justice to the actual dish it's presenting. But as is evident, there is pork floating in some sort of pussy juice. and Jones ate pretty much all of what's missing from the dish.

So please, go to Sea Garden. It's a great late-night restaurant on 7th & Weller. But for the love of all that is good & holy in the world, avoid the steamed pork with salted fish. You may be lucky enough to have never had a girlfriend with that sort of snatch-stench, but save yourself from finding out what you've missed all this time.