The Dread General Tso

I spend more time that I should at the Sun Palace. Perhaps I've mentioned that before?

The Sun Palace is a local Chinese buffet. Chinese food doesn't particularly agree with me. It's not that I don't like it, but after years of hamburgers, hot dogs, fries, and strawberry shakes, my intestines don't seem prepared for the task. That never prevents me from declaring battle on the best the Chinese have to offer, however.

Yesterday, I decided it was time to dust off my chopsticks, and go challenge the General again.
Dressed in my best black attire -- the only way I dress these days -- I arrived promptly at the Sun Palace at around 1:00 PM. I paid as I usually do, in odd money. This time it was some Susan B. Anthony dollars, a few silver dollars, at least four half dollars, and some $2 bills. The cashier recognized me with a smile -- as she always does -- and accepted my strange combination of tender in stride.

Unusual money used to shake her up a bit, but not any more. Now that she has seen every form of money that one can see in circulation in the U.S., she gladly accepts my hodge-podge change and bills. She directed me to retain my receipt and another nice lady directed me to a booth. Good. A booth gives me the advantage. Lots of room to maneuver, and exactly the battlefield I had in mind. One must plan these things -- and I had the home court advantage.

The waiter arrived with my weapons of war and dropped them in a pile before me. Evidently the waiter knew what was afoot, and had bet against me. So much the better... more motivation for the troops. My morale was high as I headed into battle.

I walked briskly to the buffet tables, sizing up the enemy as I went. The Sun Palace has row after row of tables. Many varieties of Chinese food, some Japanese food, and some things I even recognize.

I looked over the enemy troops as I passed. A good commander chooses his battles wisely. I knew I could handle the Egg Fu Yung. Lo Mein noodles present little challenge, even though they use the little Mei Fun noodles instead of the wider and more docile Chow Fun variety. Mei Fun noodles are squirmier and sneakier -- far more aggressive fighters. I shoveled some of each on my plate -- you know --to test the enemy's strength.

It was then that I saw him, right between the fried rice and BBQ spare ribs -- my arch nemesis, The Dread General Tso. I hoped that he did not see me. Perhaps he was dressing down the Sweet and Sour pork for being untidy, or hopefully the Cashew Chicken was out of formation. But alas, he was looking right at me.

I tried to act like I didn't notice him, scooping up a large portion meatloaf as I circled his camp, planning my attack carefully. The tension built as I hit the BBQ spare ribs right where it hurt most. The Peanut Chicken, being an undermanned garrison, was completely captured.

Finally I shoveled a massive portion of General Tso's Chicken on my plate and returned to my staging ground.

I interrogated the Peanut Chicken first. They were reluctant to talk, so I used the chopsticks on them. Sadly Peanut Chicken is a lover, not a fighter, and he succumbed.

The BBQ Spare Ribs fared little better. While their tactics were well planned, there's only so many ways to hide large bones in a tiny piece of meat. In the end there was only a skeleton force remaining; they were whisked away by the waiter, probably for triage.

The Fried Rice and Egg Fu Yung fought valiantly, but my forces were too strong, and my tummy too empty to be denied its prize. In the end, the only sign of their existence was a couple of dots of soy sauce that had missed its mark.

At last it was down to just us two -- The Dread General and I. We squared off on that blasted battlefield of my plate. Carnage was everywhere. Decapitated baby corn lay in disarray on one side. A single pea scurried away, trying to avoid becoming collateral damage. The couple of splashes of soy sauce were still smoking, and for a moment I thought I could hear the echoing shouts of warriors preparing for one last fatal charge. I never was certain if it was his troops or mine.

Being the bolder -- and possibly more reckless -- of the two of us, I attacked first with a fork. The General was tougher than he looked, however, and repelled my attack with rubber-like resiliency. Perhaps the General had grown tougher since our last battle, or perhaps he had spent more time under the heat lamp than I realized. I finally broke his lines with a suicide charge from my trusty knife.

It looked like victory was at hand, and I crammed the first bite in my mouth.

The Dread General had a few tricks of his own, as it turned out. Apparently, the Sun Palace makes their General Tso's Chicken with little red peppers which are composed almost entirely of Oleoresin Capsicum. For those who don't know, that is the key ingredient used in pepper tear gas, and it is derived from peppers. In fact, I'm pretty certain it's these peppers.

The General rallied his troops, now armed with tiny flame throwers, and launched a raid on my taste buds. Several were killed outright, and the rest were rendered unconscious. His assault didn't stop there, however, as his troops marched on to my eyes and nose, rendering both useless smoking wrecks.

I managed to drive this attack off with a strong wave of ice cold cola, and once I had consumed the last of his men, I opened my fortune cookie, and read:

"You are in for an eventful evening."

The most despicable mistake a commander can make is declaring victory before the battle is over. The fortune cookie should have been looked upon as valuable intel. Instead, I ignored its cryptic message and celebrated with a large cup of coffee.

I got home at around 3:00 PM and reclined in my easy chair. It was at this point that I let my guard down. I fell asleep... and never saw the General's attack coming.

About 5:00 PM I was awakened by some pretty powerful indigestion. Clearly, the Dread General Tso had some fight left in him. I repelled this skirmish with a well-timed volley of Tums; convinced of my success for a second time, I watched the news.

Little did I know that the Dread General had used the indigestion as a diversion, and was preparing a full on assault on my lower intestine. The attack came at about 2:00 AM, and continued until the morning.

Finally at about 6:00 AM, the General, knowing that his imminent defeat was at hand, did the only thing a good general can do -- he ordered a tactical retreat. Beaten and broken, his men staggered off the battlefield. By the speed of his retreat, and the ferocity of his escape, one can only assume it was a battle that he would remember.

I couldn't resist a little bow as I bent to pull the handle. There are no winners in war, only losers. As the remnants of his army swirled away I realized I was sorry to see him go.

Well fought, General Tso... I look forward to our next battle.