Pork rib rice cakes were an old-fashioned Shanghai snack: pork ribs served with small, thin rice cakes, deep-fried and then braised. They had both the rich aroma of ribs and the soft, glutinous yet crisp texture of rice cakes, making them exceptionally delicious. The ribs were golden in color, crisp on the outside and tender within. They were fragrant and chewy on the bite, with a slight sweet-spicy flavor, tender and delectable.
Miss Wang loved them. She often came to Xiangdelai here on Yunnan Road, sat by the window, and had herself a meal. Today, she had come again.
"Oh my, Miss Wang's here. Boss Bao didn't come with you today?"
"Everyone's busy. The usual for me, boss."
Miss Wang had already permed her hair by then. Wearing square-framed glasses, a wool coat, and a crossbody bag, she was at the forefront of fashion for that era. She had been coming here for years and knew the owner well, her casual manner carrying a natural warmth.
After speaking, she noticed someone already seated by the window in the little shop. A heap of ribs sat before him, along with a bottle of Moutai. He had long hair swept back, wore a pullover sweater, army-green pants, and cloth shoes. His whole outfit clashed badly with that bottle of Moutai.
When he smiled and nodded at her, Miss Wang returned the smile and took a seat one spot away from him.
Wang Yan smiled and asked, "I heard the owner mention Boss Bao just now. Were you talking about A Bao from Caojiadu?"
Miss Wang, who was wiping her glasses with a cloth, could not help turning toward him. "You know him?"
"I do. Stamp Li, Little Ningbo, Tao Tao—they all know me too."
"How come I've never heard him mention you?"