Sometimes we come here just to listen to the confluence of languages—Vietnamese, Hmong, Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, Portuguese. Sometimes it's for the smells—overripe bananas, musty dried shrimp, fresh meat, Lysol. The variety of smells and sounds reminds us that there's a whole world worth exploring beyond the conventional bright and efficient grocery chains. Enter Shuang Hur, where you'll find produce such as pale mounds of bitter melon, dark bundles of long beans, and ungainly, sweet-smelling stalks of bundled lemongrass. Move on to the meat counter and you'll see fresh pork ears, all kinds of finely cut beef for soup, and tripe; beside that is the barbecued meat area, with crisp laquered ducks, dark soy-sauce chickens, and rich red pork hanging on hooks. In the back of the store, tanks hold live crabs and lobsters which scuttle lazily on their hard feet; in the dry goods aisles, piles of pungent black mushrooms and gnarled dried radishes cry out to be made into winter soups. In the front of the store, you'll find bags of Jasmine and other long-grain rice, but not just any bags, bags the size of people. What else? Somehow we forgot to mention the Japanese pepper blends for livening up soups, the fresh noodles in the refrigerator case, the occasional tray of almost-hatching quail eggs, and the soup bowls, spoons, cups, and assorted cookware in the hard-goods aisle. The place is a treasure trove of the interesting, exotic, and hard to find. Best of all, in our experience, the entire staff speaks several different languages, translating the rest of the world in all its vibrant colors and flavors.