Peking DuckPeking Duck4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The city squawks with traffic at half past six. A Peking Duck hangs at the restaurant window. My friend explains how he used to raise them, hundreds of ducklings on their family farm.
They lived for seven weeks and in the last three, I couldn't allow them to stop eating.
And if they did?
I force fed them.
Did you feel bad?
Not when I got paid.
His coworkers from the stock exchange are already seated. We sit down as waitresses ferry Yanjing beer and tea. The first dishes: chicken broth and lotus root, pork cutlets and peppers, beef tenderloin and watercress.
As I clear my plate, they keep topping it; and as I sip from my glass, they keep filling it. You don't eat everyday in China this is a special occasion, they rationalize. I get the impression they drink to celebrate profits, and eat to console their losses. Would it make a difference if it were the other way around?
I am already stuffed but they insist the meal has just begun. The chef brings out the Peking Duck before ou