I love a place with a sense of humor - Yes, this is actually pronounced the same as "Trader Joe's"
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| A shop in Shekou, China |
Monday, July 22, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Something Strange Is Going On Here!
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| Shanghai, looking east from the Ramada Gateway Plaza in 2009 |
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| Same shot taken this week. Its the same story in Shenzhen |
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| Shenzhen taken last week |
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| Same area in 2007. A lot has changed apart from the air quality... |
I'm not drawing any conclusions here, but suffice to say the good air quality this trip is a welcomed change.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Fish Lip and Wild Rice Soup?
Raymond, my Hong Kong counterpart is convinced that I really like fish lips. It was Raymond after all who found them for me on a menu in Shanghai last year, ending my 2 year quest to try what has to be the goofiest sounding food item ever. The problem is, now every time we dine at a restaurant together, he looks for them, wanting to make sure I get something I like, I suppose. Raymond is a nice guy and I don't want to disappoint or embarrass him, so I am just resigned to thanking him and eating my bowl of lips. And granted, they are not really bad, they're just not really good either.
This past Tuesday night in a Shanghai restaurant, supposedly Chengdu style food, Raymond as always "took care of me" by ordering fish lip soup for everyone. The soup, a slightly creamy fish stock with little trout smackers floating about was not bad, and surprisingly contained a midwestern staple - wild rice, something I love but have never seen in China before. In fact, none of the Chinese present could identify these long brown and white bits mixed among the maw morsels, most thought it was mushroom.
Now I am craving Chicken & Wild Rice Soup! Perhaps next time I make this, I will add a few lips just for fun.
This past Tuesday night in a Shanghai restaurant, supposedly Chengdu style food, Raymond as always "took care of me" by ordering fish lip soup for everyone. The soup, a slightly creamy fish stock with little trout smackers floating about was not bad, and surprisingly contained a midwestern staple - wild rice, something I love but have never seen in China before. In fact, none of the Chinese present could identify these long brown and white bits mixed among the maw morsels, most thought it was mushroom.
Now I am craving Chicken & Wild Rice Soup! Perhaps next time I make this, I will add a few lips just for fun.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
An Unbelievable Dinner from the Smallest Kitchen Imaginable!
I have been traveling to China for so long now that I have developed friendships that have no connection to my work. Two such friends, Linda and DJ own a bar, a bar I frequent when I am in Shenzhen. Linda is Chinese, from Hunan. Her husband DJ is a Scotsman from Aberdeen. DJ travels for months at a time, working on oil drilling platforms. Linda stays home and runs the business and raises their son. Very nice people, always warm and hospitable. When I am in town, I get invited to birthday parties and the like, and these parties get raucous. Chinese people enjoy a good party!
Linda and DJ recently moved into a new home and last week had a housewarming party to which I was also invited. The house, an apartment on the 11th floor of a 20+ story high-rise was small by American standards, maybe 600 square feet and spartan. White walls, little in the way of amenities - no one seems to bother with picking interior colors here. There were two average sized bedrooms, a bathroom / laundry room, and a living and dining area which was pretty tight. The kitchen was the smallest I think I have ever seen anywhere. It was a closet really, separated from the dining area by floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, presumably to keep the heat from filling the rest of the small space. A small refrigerator and microwave, a 2 burner cooktop and a tiny oven left little room for counter space - 4 square feet max.
There were twelve of us for dinner crowded around the small circular table in the undersized dining area; our hosts along with their son and Linda's mother, three of Linda's sisters, three of the girls who work in the bar and Derek, a Brit who also travels to Shenzhen frequently. To call this intimate would be an understatement - elbow to elbow. Then the the food started coming, family style. And the food kept coming. Pork dishes, chicken dishes, spicy potatoes with garlic, ribs, greens, rice, an enormous fish, shrimp. Eleven different dishes in all, and all of it hot and perfect. I have no idea where she kept all of this food hidden in that impossibly small kitchen, let alone how she had everything ready to eat at the same time using a two burner stove and an EZ-Bake Oven!! As small and dysfunctional as this kitchen seemed to me, it in no way held back Linda. She may be the most amazing cook I have ever met. Oh, and the wine was flowing too... Like I said, the Chinese love a good party.
There was much food left over after we had all stuffed ourselves, but I guarantee not a piece will go to waste. Most of the Chinese present grew up on farms in Hunan and often went to bed hungry. Wasting food is unthinkable, as it should be I suppose.
Linda and DJ recently moved into a new home and last week had a housewarming party to which I was also invited. The house, an apartment on the 11th floor of a 20+ story high-rise was small by American standards, maybe 600 square feet and spartan. White walls, little in the way of amenities - no one seems to bother with picking interior colors here. There were two average sized bedrooms, a bathroom / laundry room, and a living and dining area which was pretty tight. The kitchen was the smallest I think I have ever seen anywhere. It was a closet really, separated from the dining area by floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, presumably to keep the heat from filling the rest of the small space. A small refrigerator and microwave, a 2 burner cooktop and a tiny oven left little room for counter space - 4 square feet max.
There were twelve of us for dinner crowded around the small circular table in the undersized dining area; our hosts along with their son and Linda's mother, three of Linda's sisters, three of the girls who work in the bar and Derek, a Brit who also travels to Shenzhen frequently. To call this intimate would be an understatement - elbow to elbow. Then the the food started coming, family style. And the food kept coming. Pork dishes, chicken dishes, spicy potatoes with garlic, ribs, greens, rice, an enormous fish, shrimp. Eleven different dishes in all, and all of it hot and perfect. I have no idea where she kept all of this food hidden in that impossibly small kitchen, let alone how she had everything ready to eat at the same time using a two burner stove and an EZ-Bake Oven!! As small and dysfunctional as this kitchen seemed to me, it in no way held back Linda. She may be the most amazing cook I have ever met. Oh, and the wine was flowing too... Like I said, the Chinese love a good party.
There was much food left over after we had all stuffed ourselves, but I guarantee not a piece will go to waste. Most of the Chinese present grew up on farms in Hunan and often went to bed hungry. Wasting food is unthinkable, as it should be I suppose.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Well Blow Me Down! Popeye the Sailor "Pops Up" Again!
Last night I went to dinner with some friends in Shenzhen including a Scottish expat, his Chinese wife and a few of the girls who work in one of the bars they own. The restaurant turned out to be a very good Italian place with a decent wine list and plenty of pasta and risotto options - a welcome change. While perusing the menu, what do you suppose I saw...
Really? Popeye again? Surely I figured this use of Popeye's name was meant to appeal to the largely western patrons in this restaurant, but after learning that this cartoon was so popular in Japan (see this post), I had to ask. I assumed correctly that the Scotsman would know about Popeye, so I went straight to the Chinese girls and sure enough, everyone of them, excepting the two who had no TV or electricity at home had seen, and apparently greatly enjoyed Popeye cartoons when they were younger. One of the girls said "Yes, I know this one. He get trouble and he eat the spinach to beat up bad guys." I think that pretty well sums up the plot of every Popeye the Sailor cartoon ever made.
Really? Popeye again? Surely I figured this use of Popeye's name was meant to appeal to the largely western patrons in this restaurant, but after learning that this cartoon was so popular in Japan (see this post), I had to ask. I assumed correctly that the Scotsman would know about Popeye, so I went straight to the Chinese girls and sure enough, everyone of them, excepting the two who had no TV or electricity at home had seen, and apparently greatly enjoyed Popeye cartoons when they were younger. One of the girls said "Yes, I know this one. He get trouble and he eat the spinach to beat up bad guys." I think that pretty well sums up the plot of every Popeye the Sailor cartoon ever made.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
The Worst Part of International Business Travel Is...
...filling out the expense reports...trying to make sense of 3 weeks worth of receipts when most are in various foreign currencies and not in English. The Chinese receipts are the most problematic. The name of the merchant and what you purchased are all in Chinese characters. At best, the date, time and amount paid are your only clues.
"Hmmm. June 6th at 1:30 AM. Was that the after-the-bar foot massage I bought for my customer or that steaming bowl of duck tongues with mushrooms in Suzhou?"
"Hmmm. June 6th at 1:30 AM. Was that the after-the-bar foot massage I bought for my customer or that steaming bowl of duck tongues with mushrooms in Suzhou?"
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Sure, I could diligently make notes on each receipt at the time of purchase, but that would require a level of discipline I simply don't possess.
Monday, July 1, 2013
My Gypsy Blood is Boiling! It's Time to Hit the Road...
I haven't traveled for nine weeks, and it's getting to me!
For most of my life I have been on the move, and I mean that quite literally. I am in my late forties and I am presently dwelling in my twenty-fifth residence. If you take this as an average, every one year and eleven months I pack up and move everything I own to a different place, somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere fresh. A new beginning. This average, by the way is an improvement. In my early years moving was practically an annual event. Pulling up stakes every twenty-three months may seem odd, and I suppose to many it is odd, but to me it is as natural as getting dressed in the morning. It is something I have always done.
My parents set this tone. My father was, and remains an ambitious sort. He was always willing to relocate to find the next opportunity, the next promotion, and in the end this served him well. As a result, I felt like a permanent tourist growing up, always someplace new where the people talked kind of funny, but secure in the knowledge that next year, maybe two at the outside, I would again have a new home, a new school, new friends. A new experience.
While I don't move my belongings as often now, I still feel the need to keep moving and exploring. This explains why I like my present job as much as I do, and why I get so antsy when I sit for too long in one spot. Some get homesick, I suppose I get "roadsick". I want to be out there, anywhere meeting new people, trying different foods, soaking it all in. Life is short and there is much to see. An uncle of mine once said of me that "...he doesn't want to leave one square yard of soil that he hasn't stepped on", and I guess to some degree he was right.
I am fortunate to have a family that, even if they don't like this tendency in me, at least they begrudgingly accept it without too much outward complaint. I nonetheless know this wears on them sometimes.
Anyhow, I leave in 2 days for Asia. Three weeks in China and Japan. If this trip goes as most do, I have a few days of nasty jet lag to look forward to, followed by one to two cases of food-borne illness, a baiju-induced hangover or two, and days of sinus headaches brought on by the ever-present air pollution - and I can't wait!
For most of my life I have been on the move, and I mean that quite literally. I am in my late forties and I am presently dwelling in my twenty-fifth residence. If you take this as an average, every one year and eleven months I pack up and move everything I own to a different place, somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere fresh. A new beginning. This average, by the way is an improvement. In my early years moving was practically an annual event. Pulling up stakes every twenty-three months may seem odd, and I suppose to many it is odd, but to me it is as natural as getting dressed in the morning. It is something I have always done.
My parents set this tone. My father was, and remains an ambitious sort. He was always willing to relocate to find the next opportunity, the next promotion, and in the end this served him well. As a result, I felt like a permanent tourist growing up, always someplace new where the people talked kind of funny, but secure in the knowledge that next year, maybe two at the outside, I would again have a new home, a new school, new friends. A new experience.
While I don't move my belongings as often now, I still feel the need to keep moving and exploring. This explains why I like my present job as much as I do, and why I get so antsy when I sit for too long in one spot. Some get homesick, I suppose I get "roadsick". I want to be out there, anywhere meeting new people, trying different foods, soaking it all in. Life is short and there is much to see. An uncle of mine once said of me that "...he doesn't want to leave one square yard of soil that he hasn't stepped on", and I guess to some degree he was right.
I am fortunate to have a family that, even if they don't like this tendency in me, at least they begrudgingly accept it without too much outward complaint. I nonetheless know this wears on them sometimes.
Anyhow, I leave in 2 days for Asia. Three weeks in China and Japan. If this trip goes as most do, I have a few days of nasty jet lag to look forward to, followed by one to two cases of food-borne illness, a baiju-induced hangover or two, and days of sinus headaches brought on by the ever-present air pollution - and I can't wait!
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