The Fu-Wah Tofu Hoagie. I capitalize every word because to do any less would blaspheme the perfection of this sandwich. I'm tempted to say that the experience of eating this hoagie is like having an orgasm in your mouth, but doing so would, I'm sure, just invite a trail of "that's what she said" comments from similarly-immature readers. So let's just say that it's good. Really, really good. Marinated Vietnamese tofu, cilantro, grilled shredded carrot and daikon, Sriracha sauce, and jalapenos (I usually omit these from my order, but whatever), all encased in a lightly toasted long roll. Sometimes the roll is extra crispy and leaves crumbs all over your shirt; I wear them as a sort of badge of pride, to be honest, but that's the only real X-factor here. What remains constant from order to order - and I've probably eaten over a hundred of these since I moved into the neighborhood last January - is this: a giant, meal-sized hoagie prepared to a consistently high standard of excellence at a shockingly low price ($3.75!). All that, and friendly people, too: when was the last time the owner of a corner store apologized to you for having to add sixty cents to the price of a bottled Tazo iced tea - a product they began stocking specifically because you asked him to, I might add - because of issues with his distributor? Never, that's when. Happened to me at Fu-Wah two weeks ago. When was the last time you walked into a corner store and saw "Rush Hour 2" muted on the TV while MC Hammer played on the stereo and the owner alternated between quoting lines from the film and lines from the song and all the while everyone in the store was smiling from ear to ear at how awesome it was? Never, that's when. Happened to me at Fu-Wah last summer. To say that I love everything about this market, and this hoagie, would be an understatement. And from what I gather, most of my fellow West Philadelphians feel very much the same.Perhaps you can imagine my surprise and dismay, then, when I walked in to order my dinner and was told that they "ran out of tofu about an hour ago." Huh? Such an event never even registered as possible in my mind. It's the functional equivalent of going to Sunoco and finding out that they ran out of gasoline earlier in the day. Honestly, I haven't been that disappointed since they cancelled "Freaks and Geeks," but that's another post for another blogspot. But I soldiered onwards and up, making my way back to the freezer section where I was pleased to discover a better-than-average selection of vegan-friendly frozen foods. Actually, scratch that. Compared to what you'd find at the average corner store, Fu-Wah's selection was outstanding. I settled on an Amy's dairy-free bean and rice burrito. It was overpriced by a couple bucks ($3.99), true, but I can't even bring myself to hate on that because I would gladly have paid an extra two dollars for every tofu hoagie I've ever ordered there; by my calculations, then, I'm still way, way ahead of the curve.
The rest of the story goes just like the rest of every other story I've ever told about trying to microwave a burrito at home: I wrapped it in a sheet of Bounty and turned it over halfway through the cooking time, just like the directions said. I cooked it for exactly as long as suggested, not a second more or less. Still, it ended up tooth-splittingly solid and boiling hot at the edges; cool and, um, "refreshing" in the middle. Plus, the paper towel somehow managed to glue itself to the tortilla, which then tore a giant hole from the center of the burrito during the unwrapping, so I couldn't eat it vertically like a normal person. Instead I had to hold it like a slice of pizza and alternate between small, awkwardly tentative bites and these weird quasi-sexual slurpings at the exposed burrito innards. Of course, despite my near-obsessive attempts to eat cleanly, I still ended up with a massive bean spill all over the upper front half of my body. Which rules for two reasons. First, because I was wearing a white t-shirt and nothing says "classy guy" like a white tee with a food stain dead in the center. Second, because it was the boiling hot edge that spilled, inextricably tangling itself between my chin beard and epidermis, thus leaving me with a giant (and sexy!) red blister under my bottom lip. Also awesome: did you know that greasy overheated beans actually bounce when they make contact with cotton fabrics, leaving a three-inch long trail of slovenly footprints on your person? Neither did I, but there it was, food science in action.
So this summer, if you see some herpes-mouth Wisenheimer walking into Fu-Wah wearing a (mostly) white shirt and looking confused by a tofu shortage, remind me to try the teriyaki rice bowl instead. Thanks very much in advance. [[justin]]
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