Had I not misplaced this image, I would have presented it sooner since it's my 'birthday cake", and my birthday was several days ago.
Backstory: A month previously I'm sitting in our local Chinese restaurant (it's very good, by the way) with my friend Ted. We're sipping at scorching hot wu long tea served in little white ceramic crucibles that are far too hot to touch. We look at the menu and naturally the conversation turns toward wondering why the Chinese don't make lasagna.
We reason out the most likely list of ingredients: marinated barbecued beef, shredded. Chinese vegetables and peppers for roughage. Wonton or tofu wrappers to make layers, and cooked tofu on top. Instead of tomato sauce, black bean sauce.
Then my birthday arrives, and I'm invited over to Ted's place. Staggering all belief, he's made the Chinese lasagna we had imagined, and I took a picture of it. Ted wrote "Happy B Day" using Shanghai noodles.
Of course since I'm the birthday boy, I get to have the first slice of this new cuisine. My hosts look at me the way scientists peer through a solid foot of plate glass into a locked test chamber with the subject strapped to a steel table: perhaps after tasting this I will explode or turn inside out, or maybe the house will need to be quarantined.
Honestly, it was pretty darned good! I'd eat it again.
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