It was approximately about yesterday afternoon when Art Harun sent a synchronized message to me. Just to explain what this means to you uninitiated to Navel Gazing habits is this: Fools' minds seldom differ. When they do actually meet, they achieve a synchronicity. It is through this medium of synchronicity (I love using this word dammit! I feel so 80s; cue 'Wrapped around your Finger' by Police for me please) that telepathic messages can be sent. Okay enough science today! The message was clear and simple. We gonna eat them WFKTat a Chinese restaurant comprising many stalls located behind the Bukit Damansara famous Hock Lee Supermarket.
So after we parachuted down from a plane Art rented for the occasion and stored our parachuting gear, Art immediately secured us a classy spot near the fridge where they keep the drinks and kept cool food, where we could enjoy a quiet and immensely thought provoking conversation amidst the slamming of the fridge doors (because they uh, tend to go there. A lot.) and bellowing orders (you gotta love the efficiency of the Chinese - their orders always take the shortest route, from their throats, blasting right over your head, to the other fella's ears - none of your goddamned technology can beat that!). Art went to place a request from the high priest of WFKT who had a small magic wok of WFKT at the front right end of the shop, there he would stand stirring, toiling, and showering the many blessings upon the many WFKT that leaveth his magical and now holy wok. He also ordered some rojak to fill the time before our feast. A cool cincau proved some relief against the glowing warmth of the restaurant.
After several rousing bouts of conversation and hence working up an appetite, there he cameth, the high priest of WFKT, dishelved, completely driven and focused, his legs bolting with such robotlike precision, completely uninterested in any bit of conversation whatsoever except to tell you your change. Such dedication! Hail thou wok of the righteous! Thou homage to ambrosia that deserveth to be inducted into the Pantheon of Your True All Time Favourite Foods In the Whole Wide World. He came with those two well worn plastic blue and red plate for each of us with carried WKFT, with two equally aged red chopsticks. They look like they had met each other many times before and had nothing left to say to each other. And then gone he was, away to serve the cause of WFKT. My change accurately and transparently spread out on the table. His footsteps lost in the above described din. And there we were, left with the WFKT.
[WARNING: Art ordered us KT sans tau geh so if you do like it with tau geh please be warned! Eating it with tau geh would not taste in the same manner in which it is described below! We at Navel Gazing do not wish to be misleading in our food reviews although we are expected to be terribly creative.]
Now the first thing you would notice about the KT here is that it's the thin sort. Not the usual fatties. I quite like these sort because you get more covered area with the ingredients than if you had a thicker one. So this makes it more tasty. The second thing you notice is when you dig in is that you notice how light the WFKT is. That's because he doesn't use so much oil and so this allows room for the taste to slowly bloom towards its peak, which should be just about after half way through your WFKT. Very cunning chap he is! He has obviously experimented much to get the optimal amount of oil and blend of ingredients. Too much oil helps intensify the flavour but leaves you feeling muted after.
And the taste is quite distinct in its playful suggestions of a Marxian Communism that truly embraced a Wagnerian sort of Capitalism and saw it as a necessary step before achieving itself in the first few mouthfuls. And just as you are about to be let down, you feel yourself transported to the ancient China when people fought with fists in those Jackie Chan kung fu in ancient China movies, and seated at one of those restaurants that get trashed up because people like Jackie Chan's chracters, Drunken Master for example, trashes the place in some huge assed kung fu fight. Hopefully you would have finished your WFKT by then and gotten the hell out of there.
And as you gradually but surely hit that peak of its taste, you become Drunken Master. You are Master of Kung fooking Foo. You can do all those fonky moves like Jackie Chan. Like that one up there. But I'm talking taste here alright! Don't get any funny ideas. But it's no wonder we were here, this is wicked stuff. And after scoffling down the whole thing, you still felt kinda light enough to scoffle down one more. But I can understand why Art likes to come here, its economic use of oil does not impinge on the potency of the WFKT, and we all now know just how expensive the damn thing is as of today. Bastards!!
Anyway, towards the end I like to pick up the little loose bits and pieces because they tend to be pretty potent in taste and give it a boost. And finally, it's great to have that black jelly still on hand to round everything off. That way you can slake your thirst and wash everything else down!
Wooooo - ha!