Ma-Po Tofu
We go a long ways back, Ma Po and I. My first taste of its tofu version was few weeks after I landed in the US, at a tiny Chinese restaurant across the street from our university and a few blocks from where we lived. The food never looked like the brightly pictured ones on the walls. But I knew I’d come back. And I did. The week after, and the week after. It became my go to place. I’d take my roommate along, who’d also become a fan of the place.
For the longest time after I moved away from my university town, I’d order Ma Po tofu in every Chinese restaurant I visited, hoping to get the taste back. It was never the same. There was one place that came close. However, it was always empty and I’d be the only one sitting and eating Ma Po tofu. Eventually, I forgot what I was looking for, the tangy sauce, the texture, the spice, the cheap oil or a partner to go along with.
I still order it once in a while when I go to Chinese restaurants with family, half on habit, half with expectation that it’d remind me of that little Chinese restaurant across from my university..
