It always happens: We stop in to Shuang Hur for a jar of curry paste or a bottle of fish sauce, and we leave $30 lighter but toting the makings for any number of quasi-made-up meals. Because, you see, there is not one kind of curry paste, or even one discrete display, but an aisle of tins and tubs to be inspected. An aisle that dead-ends at a wall of fish tanks playing hospice to all manner of live seafood, adjoining an aisle crammed with sticky-rice steamers and green tea flavored with roasted rice, more or less near aisles of produce cases bearing Chinese chives, purple basil, long beans, greens, greens, and more greens, and big packets of minnow-shaped Thai bird chiles. If all that's too ambitious, there's a freezer aisle full of ready-to-heat dim sum items and a butcher counter boasting lacquered duck, red-roasted pork, and sundry other less labor-intensive meal building blocks.