I recently stopped by Fortune Cookie to pick up some foodstuffs.  Oriental foodstuffs, that is – as if you didn’t figure that out already.  I mean, come on, Fortune Cookie.  You know they’re not selling gnocchi here.  Cute-but-trite store names aside, I love going to this place.  It’s your typical asian grocery store.  The aisles are skinny and packed tight with more brands of soy sauce, mirin & rice wine than you could imagine being on one shelf.  Noodles are in every shape and size, and made of rice, buckwheat flour, or tofu.  And would you like those fresh, dry or frozen?  Because they have it.  And, instead of tomatoes and cucumbers in the veg section, there are fresh bunches of bok choy (bok choy, baby bok choy, Chinese bok choy…), huge daikon radishes, packages of brown & white beech mushrooms.  Not hungry?  Maybe you need a new dim sum steamer, or a pack of 50 chopsticks, or some sake.  

On one of my recent trips to Fortune Cookie, I had the pleasure of meeting the owners.  

“$13.99” owner said. 

So, I handed him my credit card.  He swiped the card, read the front of it and quickly looked at me with an interesting grimace. 

“Cara.  Your name?  That’s not very Asian,” owner said. 

“Right.  Ok.  Well, that’s my name,” I replied with a smile.  I didn’t want to jump into the I-was-adopted details at the moment.  What did he expect?  Ling?  Sumiko?  Yin? 

“And, what’s your name?” I asked.

“David.  And that’s my wife, Donna.”

Well, well…that’s not very Asian.

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