Rolled

Experiencing a massive craving for spring rolls, I ordered a plate of four from a Chinese eatery in Market City. As my tongue lolled, said items were retrieved from the freezer, microwaved, deep-fried, shaken to remove excess oil, halved with diagonal cuts of a cleaver, then arranged in a circle on a paper doily on a fancy plate. They looked fantastic – crisp and golden. So keen was I to revisit the classic flavour, I declined the available sauces. This may have been a mistake, because what I bit into wasn't anything like the appetiser I know. The filling was white, chewy and if I had to guess the main ingredient, I'd say offal. The so-called spring rolls tasted OK in their way – Anthony Bourdain probably would've adored them – while at the same time being a culinary abomination. What's worse, I still have the blasted craving!