Once, I went to Paul's Chinese Kitchen and ordered Mongolian beef with my father, who got tofu and vegetables. As I was eating it later at home, I saw a sticky, clumped, gelatinous substance in my food. It was a very familiar substance, only it was orange and not white, due probably to the cooking. Suspicious, I looked at the ticket he had written out my order on and stapled to the carryout bag. Under the "Mongolian beef" he had written in just-legible-enough script "cum". Yes, those shopkeepers have their ways. I haven't gone back since. Whenever I think of Paul's Chinese Kitchen, I get a sick feeling in my stomach.