Whenever my family went to New York's Chinatown for dinner or dim sum, my neat-freak mother would choose the restaurant with the dirtiest floor. When her astonished children would point out the grains of rice and chicken bones littering the peeling linoleum tiles, she would just smile, shrug, and let the waiter mop the table with cold tea and napkins. She never explained why, but I'm sure her logic went something like this: The dirtier the floor, the busier the restaurant. The busier the restaurant, the better the food. After all, who has time to sweep when Peking duck must be... More >>>