...// ...With his little pudgy fingers, colonel Maliwan Tham Boon Chalayanacupt raised the chopsticks to his mouth and with infinite delicacy stuffed into it an enormous fragment of fried beef tripe. Cholesterol and him were not a happy marriage, but he adored this simple and tasty meal which recalled his youth and his modest origins. He would have preferred caramelized duck tongues, but unhappily the restaurant didn’t have them on offer.
In front of him, Sfoz fenced with a dimsum which he just couldn’t quite manage to control. The table was littered with little porcelain bowls. The waiter had brought the eternal pot of jasmin tea and, in the guise of an antiseptic, an enormous bottle of cognac in a metal cradle. Sfoz carefully avoided dipping his sticky ravioli into any of the sauces, red or green, acid or soda, of choice. His previous stays in Asia had made him very prudent.
“What can I do to help you?” asked colonel Chalayanacupt in a fine display of hypocrisy....//...
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