Showing posts with label Donkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Donkey. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The Ultimate Donkey Hangover Cure


Have you fallen off your buggy, little donkey? Have you pried open a pair of bleary eyes onto an unforgiving and apathetic Sunday; as if the day itself had materialized into a double-chinned prison warden, pronouncing an interminable sentence upon you? Are you experiencing the nameless dread of the Booze Blues, wondering whose toes you stomped on with your cloddish donkey hooves--in your throes of Donkey Drink On? And did you not relinquish your rights to water, prior to crashing hard on the wagon trail? Well then, young Equus Africanus Asinus, it sounds like you've got yourself a little bit of a hangover? Now, you seek the antidote to your foolishness, yes?

Out of all the urban legends in the world, such as spiders growing in a man's pimple, or waking up in a tub full of ice, sans kidney, only the Hangover Cure has ever managed to reach the consumer sector of our society. A vast array of lotions and potions can be bought with a simple click of a mouse. The fact, however, is that none of them actually work. Yet, in the magical land of the Hungry Donkey, you may be yet saved from your self-inflicted woes. 

Most seasoned drinkers know the causes of a hangover: dehydration and fatigue. The fatigue we feel is a logical summary of the parts or episodes of the previous night. Duh. However, on a biological level it is primarily due to the liver pining hard to process the toxins created by our gleeful consumption of alcohol. Furthermore, in these processes, we find ourselves lacking the vitamins responsible for the feelings of wellness we generally take for granted. In the parlance of the layman, we are left without B12, Sugars, water, and probably money. So, here's what you can do:

Being a gourmand and an alkee, I have devised a unique hangover cure. I shall call it The Donkey's Special Breakfast, or known in some circles as, The SIGS (Self-Inflicted Grief Syndrome) Remedy. Please note, this is a bare-bones cure. You may embellish it as you see fit. Here's what you do:

1. Make yourself a Virgin Bloody Mary. Do not reach out for the hair of the dog. Although, many drinkers stand by this Sailor's Fallacy, it only postpones the inevitable hangover, and actually creates more toxins for the liver to deal with. Besides, the vodka in a good Bloody Mary is almost invisible to the palette anyway. So, here goes:

STEP ONE--THE BEVERAGE
1. Use a good unsweetened Tomato Juice
2. Squeeze a Lemon into a large glass of ice
3. Add half a clove or more of minced Garlic
4. Dash of Worcestershire Sauce
5. Add a tablespoon of GOOD Apple Cider Vinegar
6. Throw in a tablespoon of Horseradish
7. Pour in your Tomato Juice
8. Crack some Black Pepper
9. Stir.

2. Get some decent Whole-Grain bread, a couple of eggs, some honey, some butter, and a banana. The bread will help absorb some of the bile in your stomach, while toasting it will produce carbon, which will act as a subtle filter and aid the liver. Eggs are a good source of Cysteine, a substance that will help the liver break down the culprit toxin, Acetaldehyde. Honey is a healthy source of sugar. Bananas are full of the Potassium you have lost through alcohol's diuretic effect. And butter is just so damn good...but it will help protect the stomach lining from the noxious swill you've accumulated down there. So: 

STEP TWO--THE MAIN COURSE
1. Cook two eggs any way you like (poached is the best)
2. Toast the bread (the more you toast it the better, as more carbon-or char-will result)
3. Spread a layer of butter on the toast
4. Spread a layer of honey on the toast
5. Place your cooked eggs on top
6. Garnish with whatever you like, or have available
7. Eat it!

For the final step, you will need some Aspirin, or another low-grade pain-killer, water, your banana, and you will need to go back to bed, as you will see in the following step.

STEP THREE--THE DOCTOR'S ORDERS
1. Take a pill
2. Fill your empty Bloody Mary glass with water and drink it down. (DO NOT RINSE GLASS)
3. Eat banana (cold is better--as its texture will be firmer, and you will be less likely to spew, had you eaten it mushy)
4. Go back to bed

There you have it--The Donkey's Special Breakfast. Now, you may be thinking that eggs, honey, Bloody Marys and bananas are not a pleasant sounding mix. That's OK. Remember, you are hungover, practically still wasted; you had little discretion in your choices last night, so why be so picky today? This is a hangover CURE. It has nothing to do with temporarily comforting yourself with greasy food and coffee, as we've all done to no avail, many times. For one, your Sausage Mc Muffins will only put your body in a greater state of duress, and coffee is as much dehydrating as the very hooch that got you to this place. This is science here. Trust the gods of Logic. Try the Special Breakfast. In fact, force yourself out of bed to make it, as you will be feeling better and counting donkeys in no time...

Notes for the advanced: If you've successfully cured the physiological aspects of your hangover with help from The Donkey's Special Breakfast(R.), yet are still in the grips of SIGS, or Self-Inflicted Grief Syndrome, you may want to consider getting laid. Sex may be the only tried and true cure for the Booze Blues. 




Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The All Donkey Banquet

In this excerpt from The Republic of Wine, we rejoin our narrator in the famed Yichi Tavern on Donkey Avenue, where he and his guests are treated to a rare culinary event, the all donkey banquet.




Several dwarfs come up to pour tea and alcoholic beverages and to set the table with plates and chopsticks. They whirl around the table as if they were on wheels. The tea is Oolong, the liquor Maotai, no local flavor, but easily state-banquet quality. First to be served are twelve cold delicacies arranged in the shape of a lotus flower: donkey stomach, donkey liver, donkey heart, donkey intestines, donkey lungs, donkey tongue, and donkey lips . . . all donkey stuff. Friends, sample these delicacies sparingly and leave room for what follows, for experience tells me that the best is yet to come. Take note, friends, here come the hot dishes. You, the lady over there, be careful, don't burn yourself! A dwarf all in red -- painted red lips and roughed cheeks, red shoes and a red cap, red from head to toe, like a red candle -- rolls up to the table carrying a steaming platter of food. She opens her mouth, and out spills a flurry of words, falling like pearls: 'Braised donkey ear. Enjoy!'
'Steamed donkey brains, for your dining pleasure!'
'Pearled donkey eyes, for your dining pleasure!'
The donkey eyes, in beautifully contrasting black and white, lay pooled on a large platter. Go ahead, friends, dig in. Don't be afraid. They might appear to be alive, but they are, after all, just food. But, hold on, there are only two eyes but ten of us. How do we divide them up fairly. Will you help us out here, miss? The red candle girl smiles and picks up a steel fork. Two gentle pokes, and the black pearls pop, filling the platter with a gelatinous liquid. Use your spoons, comrades, scoop it up, one spoonful at a time. It may not be a pretty dish, but it tastes wonderful. I know there's another dish for which Yichi Tavern is famous. It's called Black Dragon Sporting with Pearls, The main ingredients are a donkey dick and a pair of donkey eyes. Today, however, the chef has used the eyes to make Pearled Donkey Eyes, so it looks like there'll be no sporting by the donkey dick this time. Who knows, maybe we're eating a female donkey.
Don't be shy, brothers and sisters. Loosen you belts, let you bellies hang out, eat till you burst. There'll be no toasting, since we're all family. Just drink to your hearts' content. And don't worry about the bill. Today you can bleed me.
'Donkey ribs in wine, for you dining pleasure.'
'Donkey tongue in brine, for your dining pleasure.'
'Braised donkey tendons, for your dining pleasure.'
'Pear and lotus root donkey throat, for your dining pleasure.'
'Steamed and fried donkey intestines, for your dining pleasure.'
'Stewed donkey hooves with sea cucumbers, for your dining pleasure.'
'Five-spice donkey liver, for your dining pleasure.'
. . . and so on . . .
A medley of donkey dishes flows onto our table, filling stomachs that are now stretched taut as drums, and drawing rumbling belches out of the diners. Or faces are covered with a film of donkey grease, through which weariness shows, like donkeys worn out from turning a millstone, Comrades, you must be exhausted by now. I stop an attendand and ask, 'How many more dishes are there?'
'Twenty or so, I guess,' she replies. 'I'm not exactly sure. I just bring out what they give me.'
I point to the friends around the table. 'They're nearly full. Can't we skip some of the dishes?
With a show of reluctance, she says, 'You ordered a whole donkey, and you've barely made a dent in it.'
'But we're stuffed,' I plead. 'Dear young lady, won't you please ask the kitchen to just bring out the best and forget the rest.'
The lady says, 'You disappoint me, but, OK, I'll talk to them.'
She is successful. Out comes the final dish.
'Dragon and Phoenix Lucky Together, for your dining pleasure. Enjoy!'
She wants us to enjoy the sight of the dish before beginning our dining pleasure.
One of our group, a sourpuss of a woman -- and not very smart, either -- asks the attendant, 'Which part of the donkey is this made of?'
Without hesitation, she answers, 'It's the donkey's sex organs.'
The woman blushes, but, unable to control her curiosity, asks, 'We only ordered one donkey, so how could there be . . .' She puckers up her lips to point at the 'dragon' and 'phoenix' on the plate.
'The chef felt terrible that you missed over a dozen dishes,' the waitress replies, 'so he added a set of female donkey's genitalia to create this dish.'
Please dig in, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends, don't be shy. These are the donkeys' jewels, as delicious as they are ugly. If you don't eat, it's your loss. If you do, it's still your loss, sooner or later, if you know what I mean. Come on, dig in , give it a try eat eat eat Dragon and Phoenix Lucky Together.

(from The Republic of Wine by Mo Yan, Penguin Books, 2001)