Flossy

At first glance, this crumbly topping may look harmless. But don't let it fool you. Nestled on top of an otherwise unoffending bun sits the one item that continues to terrorize me while living in China. My official arch nemesis.

This is Pork Floss.

Yup, you read that correctly. That breadcrumb like mixture is made of pork bits. Pork bits that the Chinese just loooooove to sprinkle on everything. The vegetarian order of stir fry you ordered? Comes with a topping of pork floss. Oh and the tofu dish it took you 15 minutes to translate off the menu. Also covered in floss.

For the average eater, this probably comes across as a mere inconvenience. But for me, this is a meltdown inducing offense. You see, I have not ingested pork in over 20 years, not since the Charlotte's Web incident of 1992. It was during this time in the Blake household in which I deduced that my beloved bacon was also my poor Wilbur. This love of pigs even lead to some swine related decor adorning my bedroom for a few years past when it was cute and acceptable. So you can see why sprinkling a massive helping of leftover pig parts onto my meals doesn't exactly have me handing out high fives to the chefs in back.

In order to keep this woolly meat from ruining my dinner, I have adapted various avoidance techniques which include emphatic pointing, mangled Chinese phrases, charades, and crying. My tutor proposed a new strategy for me this week however. She suggested I tell the waiter I'm Buddhist, as this will apparently keep all pork off my plate, though I'm pretty sure this will keep all meat in general from being served to me. Whatever. Game on floss.