I met up with an old friend this weekend I hadn't seen in about four years. So when we sat down at Ping's Seafood on Mott Street in Chinatown, I tried to be on my best dim-sum behavior. This meant no running after carts. Or grabbing dishes without proper consultation. Each time the steamed tofu with warm ginger-honey syrup (one of my favorites) rolled by, I'd turn around and A) ask whether he was interested. He would invariably B) say he hated tofu because it was "like eating nothingness." I would then C) bite my tongue and think of all the other ways he was enlightened (i.e. his development work in the Middle East) but then would D) forget about points A, B and C when the cart rolled around again and the cycle would start once more. After a few rounds, he acquiesced: we shared a bowl. He loved it. He discovered that tofu, far from bland, could have a deep and lovely nuttiness. I thought we didn't even need the syrup but decided not to test my luck; mellow-y sweet so it didn't overwhelm the tofu flavor, the syrup only helped the cause. One more converted.