Werewolves of London : A redux

Chow mein is pretty tasteless,  an oil slick of what nots and noodles. The only taste coming from soy sauce and sweaty onions. Warren Zevon may have drunk a Piña Colada at Trader Vic’s , but coconut rum is for the ladies and the tiki is still king. Werewolves of London had lines that rhymed but this old creature feature wants a tiki puka puka and some spicy sichuan to ‘Howl at the Moon’.

I would not be scared shitless of a werewolf
drinking a Piña Colada. For that matter, if I noticed a chow meined noodle caught in his fur just before he ripped my face off, I would die disapointed. Curb your lycan enthusiasm by knocking yourself out with a fruity overproof rum libation. Keep the animal instincts at bay with a deadly booze bullet. Nearly as effective as silver. The full moon will be the last of your worries.

Bloodlust still peaking? Sweat it out with some Sichuan at Bar Shu. Eat the heart, get your protein, don’t grow your hair in the process. So, you want to be a monster, well keep it to yourself son, you’re in a restaurant. Even the cold Tsingtao’s cannot prepare you for the immanent sensatory assault. The chest burns now, even as I think about it. Sweat on full alert, the slightest movement could set off another batch of perspiration.

The nose drips, the hot dried chili beef, served cold, heated by the oven that has erupted in your mouth. A dish of spicy beef offal with peanuts, spirits you away. I am not drunk(?), but I do feel whacked out. The wolf contained, my body has no time to mutate. Sichuan peppers numb the mouth. If I have grown fangs, I can’t feel them. They could have helped with the duck tongue in Laoganma chili-bean sauce. The small bone within the tongue would be crushed under extended canines, but my semi-sharp slackers leave me working the bone out with human finesse. The Dan Dan noodles would easily have slipped out of a re-configured jaw, complete with pierce, tear, chew fangs.
Sedated by spice. Have you ever heard of a Chinese Wolfman? I had plateaued,
endorphins kick you into a hallucinogenic werewolf principle. Drugged by a heady cocktail of chili oils. The heat of the food not registering now. Motor function skills on auto, it’s do or die time, will I turn? Glossy crescent dumplings slide down easily, a blush of heat and then a state of calm, flesh not itching, nails not growing. Another cold beer, 5 more hours till the sunrises.

“G.N.”

Trader Vic’s
London Hilton,
22 Park Lane,
London W1K 1BE, United Kingdom
tel: (020) 7208 4113, http://www.tradervicslondon.com/

Bar Shu
28 Frith St,
London W1D 5LF, United Kingdom
tel: 020 7287 8822, http://www.bar-shu.co.uk/

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Categories: London

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