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More pig uterus, Vicar?

Uncle B had a business appointment in London today. I went with, so we could visit the happiest place on earth — I mean, of course, Wing Yip.

These are the guys who supply all the Chinese restaurants in the UK, pretty much. Here you can buy hundredweight sacks of rice, gallons of soy sauce, great sawn tree-rings to use for chopping blocks, wicked sharp cleavers engraved all down the blade with Chinese characters. There are iron woks from omelette size to great rice boats.

There’s one whole long aisle of nothing but ramen noodles.

Oh, I love Wing Yip. Most of our day-to-day cups, plates and bowls are Wing Yip-ware — if it’s good enough for the chinko on the corner, it’s good enough for mustelids. The staff is friendly, even if we are reduced to communication via squeaks and gestures, and they have everything. Where else are you going to get frozen pig uterus?

We dropped nigh on a hundred quid today — which, let me tell you, is a hell of a lot of pot noodles.

August 3, 2010 — 10:03 pm
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