December 17, 2008
During this season's heaviest monsoon, I headed out to Macao Trading Company in search of Pierre and the promise that he made about some Portuguese-Chinese fusion that I would love. He makes those kinds of promises, and usually delivers.
The driving rain swirled around my ankles as I searched for the unmarked portal that would lead me to my destination. I had heard that Chef Waltuck was in the house, which meant that something interesting was bound to happen in the kitchen. Finally I spotted the number I was looking for, 311 Church Street, and threw open the massive doors.
The place was a trading post alright, raw wooden floors and soaring ceiling, everything decorated with loot collected from every nook and cranny of the South China Sea and the Pearl River.
No sign of Pierre. But he can move like a shadow, so I was on my guard. I took a seat at the bar next to a group of Balkan pirate who were enjoying their rum & ginger beer (Dr. Funk) and their rye & egg white (Yellow Fever).
The barkeep had the hands of a skilled knifeman. I watched him shake up a few drinks. He I wasn’t there just for the Dragon’s Milk. He shot me a furtive wink and I leaned in and told him that I was looking for Pierre.
“Pierre?” he asked.
“Yeah, Pierre,” I said. “You seen him?”
I knew he had, but for some reason he wasn’t talking. Then the pirates next to me got a little loud. It seemed that they wanted food and a table. The barkeep tried to settle them down with a plate of meatballs. They liked this very much.
Next to me, some merchants were discussing the goods they’d procured earlier in the day. I could see that the gin (Kaffir Jimlets) had loosened their tongues. One of the women applied a new coat of eyeliner and then pulled me aside.
“You lookin’ for Pierre?” she asked.
“Who’s asking?” I said.
“Are you in love with him?” she asked. “Because that’s a dangerous thing to be.”
I ignored her and ordered another Dragon’s Milk. The vodka was beginning to warm me up. And then I spotted the Host, a man I’d seen a different fusion place, the kind of guy who knows a man like Pierre.
“I’m looking for someone,” I told him.
“Who’s not?” he asked.
“Pierre,” I said. “I know you know him.”
“Yeah, well he’s not here,” he said.
I negotiated with him for a few minutes.
“He was here,” he said. “Sat right over there, with a couple of Nordic seafarers. They had some bacalao fried rice and some clams. A few glasses of wine. Then they left.”
I got an address, paid my tab, and then headed out into the night, looking for Pierre.
TO BE CONTINUED……
Macao Trading Company
311 Church Street, two blocks below Canal St
A good place for mystery, drinks & apps, and great fusion food
Tags:
david waltuck, dragons milk, macao trading post
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Posted on 12/17/2008
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