And the Angels Sing!


If you have never had a baked pork bun, let me tell you just one thing: You need to have a baked pork bun. Preferably right now. And preferably made by a Chinese person in San Francisco. Preferably from this bakery right here:

What is a baked pork bun, you ask?

A baked pork bun is heaven in bun form. The bread is soft and sweat. (Tastes somewhat reminiscent of Quincy’s yeast rolls–remember those?) It fits perfectly in your hand, so you can cradle it with one hand and still have the other hand free for driving or holding onto a cable car or gesturing in great joy and excitement. Or, better yet, for holding another pork bun.

Inside that beautiful, perfectly baked roll is a gloriously tasty meaty filling.

(Now, it’s important that you don’t look at the meat very closely and that you don’t think very much about what it is or where it came from. Just enjoy the glory of the pork bun and don’t be a diva about it.)

If you are Jesse, this is how you eat a pork bun:

Look at that face! Look at the joy! Now, don’t you want to try one too? (Don’t answer that unless the answer is “Yes,” which is the only correct answer to that question.)

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