Ah, the ubiquitous #7... a staple of any Americanized Chinese food restaurant that possesses culinary creativity beyond the #6. As you walk into the room and have a quick look around, you can pretty much tell who is who by the food on their plate. That little girl sitting with her folks? She's venturing into #1 territory for the first time and will poo out some bunny pellets for the next few days. That Nancy Boy over there in the corner with the Bieber-do, skinny jeans and green Chuck Taylors? He's nibbling at his #3 and will likely take the leftovers home to feed himself and his parrot for the rest of the week. Those seniors just blew their monthly entertainment budget splitting a #4 - but the #4 on this occasion came with tempura shrimp and enough grease of questionable origins to give them a week's worth restroom visits - so it was worth it.
Me? I'm a #7 guy. And I'm damn proud of it. Admittedly, I used to dabble in the lower regions - the fives and sixes primarily - but that was back in middle school, before I joined the football team. No, I've been a #7 guy for going on 30 years now I suppose.
What has to be included in a #7? Everything and nothing. The more the merrier - fried rice, white rice, shrimp, BBQ pork, chicken chow mein, pork chow mein, sweet and sour pork or chicken... it doesn't matter. Chow Yuk? Sure, throw it in there. Pan fried noodles? Why not? Subgum Chicken? WTF is THAT? Ok... I'll eat it if it's included.
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