If there is one lesson that I learned while lugging my backpack through China’s mountains, staying put in long-distance buses for a long time in that country or realizing that my inexpensive hotel room lacked heat, it is this:

When temperatures drop, winds kick up and a chill threatens to invade your bones, it is time to find hot-out-of-the-wok food, preferably with chili, curry, garlic or ginger (yes, yes – tofu, too).

This week in the Seattle area, the thermostat dipped, bringing temperatures down to the mid-40s to mid-50s. Gray clouds hovered.

That meant, as I ran errands on an empty stomach, I needed to fill up with the right ingredients.

I stopped at Hing Loon, an old Seattle standby because I know - on almost every visit – the Cantonese flavors are authentic and worth paying money.

This time, I opted for a curry chicken rice plate.

I started with a cup of hot tea. As a kid, I shunned it for some reason. These days, especially when it’s cold, I embrace it.

When my dish arrived with a plate of white rice on the side, I spooned in some of Hing Loon’s homemade chili sauce to crank up the internal heat factor.

Soon, I was cold no longer. My belly sent an important message to my brain: Mission accomplished.

You can mark me down as a pro-curry party member. 

I realize there are different types of curry in the world and particularly the country in Asia: China, Japan, Singapore, Thailand and India.

Asian markets sell curry and I’ve bought a Japanese kind that resembles a bar of chocolate. It makes for a nice, thick sauce. There are also pre-made Chinese styles in a jar.

If you live in Seattle or want to order online, you can try World Spice Merchants.

And I don’t know what Hing Loon throws in its chili sauce. But it’s delicious.

One time, I was eating there and a woman walked in and only wanted to buy a jar of it.

She left after she learned that it’s only a table condiment.

If you had asked me right after I graduated from college about the notion of internal heat, I would have looked at you like a puzzled person.

In fact, I might not have a complete understanding of the concept, even today. I believe it refers, in general, to balance or maintaining a balanced diet.

In one of my Chinese classes, years ago, I sat next to a nice guy, a doctor from Vietnam. He had traveled to China to learn about traditional medicine.

When we were bored during class breaks, our teacher, an older man from Beijing, would wander over, and tell my classmate that he didn’t feel well.

The Vietnamese doctor would roll up my teacher’s sleeve and take his pulse.

One time, the doctor uttered this sentence – or something to this extent - in Mandarin: “Your internal wind isn’t hot enough.”

What?

You figured that out from just taking his pulse and talking to him?

Then, I thought: I understood what he just said. But I don’t know what he meant.

My teacher, though, understood.

Later, as I recall, my classmates from Indonesia and I talked more about this balance, the idea of internal wind and heat.

I had some good times when I was younger. 

Yes, the curry chicken rice dish cost $8.75 (including tax).

That is a bit more expensive than some restaurants, especially in the San Francisco Bay Area.

And I don’t think my relatives from China can truly get over the price difference for Chinese food in the United States.

But it hit the spot.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the restaurant’s costs have increased or the number of customers has declined - what with how the U.S. economy continues to search for a true upward path.

Anyway, if you’re looking for Hing Loon in Seattle’s International District, it’s at South Weller Street and Maynard Avenue South.

Or, keep an eye out for this sign: