Minizo and Stumplings at NE 15th and Alberta
August 19, 2012
Happiness on a stick.
Minizo. Thanks for meeting me tonight. I know I shouldn’t … we shouldn’t. But the attraction is too great. It shouldn’t feel right — hot soup and steaming dumplings on a sun-baked August evening — but when that twilight breeze brushes my legs, well I can’t explain it. It just is right. It can’t be helped.
Tri-colored beauties.
You know I find you irresistible: your fresh handmade noodles boiled to order; the pinch of sprouts in the bottom of the bowl, awaiting the hot bath of broth; that soft-boiled egg, melting into the soup; the thinly sliced pork. Yes, I noticed it all. How could I not? All this cool confidence and yet you’re playful enough to display the plastic Godzilla on the counter. I’m feeling faint. Is it getting hotter? Or is it just me?
Stumplings, right next door, does not make this affair any easier. If I’m waiting, waiting for handmade noodles cooked to order, how can I resist handmade steamed dumplings? Yes, I am weak, but I am not ashamed. I am in love. It can’t be helped.
Chile Verde Chronicles 
You sold me! – I’ll have what she’s having….
I don’t blame you. It’s pretty irresistible.
mmmm dumplings. you are getting very sleepy… give me your dumplings.
Out of respect to people who don’t live mere blocks away, I avoided mentioning the Stumplings dipping sauces. The Asian chipotle is practically drinkable.