I love Asian grocery stores. All of those mysterious, oddly named ingredients-- stinky tofu, anyone? Anyone?-- the smell of rice and soy and dried mushrooms. I visit Asian Market on Central, near Hydraulic, often, because it is close to both the restaurant and home.
If you didn’t already know this, I’m half Asian-- half Filipino, specifically. I grew up eating rice with every meal, fish with heads on, chicken with feet on, fermented things, and every soy product known to man. My parents are adventurous eaters, so my brother and sister and I ate all kinds of weird stuff from the get-go. There is no food I won’t try at least once.