Eat It 鸭肠

Don't want to argue, I don't want to debate
Don't want to hear about what kind of food you hate
You won't get no dessert 'till you clean off your plate
So eat it
- Weird Al Yankovic

It’s good to have a couple of authentic Asian friends eager to take you out for “real” Asian food. Otherwise, you may just stick to eating pizza and cheeseburgers and miss opportunities to try real delicacies like, oh I don’t know...duck intestines or almost alive octopus.

My taste buds are very open-minded. As such, I have had an array of culinary experiences that left me feeling from hey-I’m-surprised-that-was-actually-tasty, to ehhhh-that-wasn’t-good-but-edible, to that-was-so-gross-this-taste-will-be-in-my-mouth-forever. The surprisingly good include cow stomach with a tasty sesame sauce (牛肚). The edible but not good include spongy and sweet meatballs of mysterious origins, fish-flavored tofu, smoked pork fat, fermented soybeans (known as natto in Japanese) topped with raw egg, and salty dried plums. The gross include a big, black scorpion, salty egg moon cake, and pig intestines (no matter how long it’s cooked or smothered with sauce, pig intestines still tastes like an outhouse).

Yum! Cow stomach

One Saturday, I found myself sitting across from my young friend, Yanyan. Between me and Yanyan’s effulgent smile was a giant pot of boiling broth and an array of assorted raw edibles soon to be boiled and consumed: mushrooms, cabbage, spinach, frozen tofu, quail eggs, shrimp cake, sliced beef, noodles, and duck intestines.

The pot was divided in half: one side bubbling with Sichuan style broth, a devilishly spicy concoction of pepper oil, peppercorns and tiny red peppers, and the other a simple, light broth fragrant with mushrooms and ginger. I recommend that Sichuan hot pot broth be coupled with a non-spicy partner. Those fiery peppercorns increase in spice intensity over the course of a meal. A non-spicy broth gives your mouth much-need breaks from the peppercorn burn.

The duck intestines, long, thin, pink as cotton candy but shining slick and smooth, were neatly laid out on a bed of cabbage. I wondered if that plate of intestines came from one duck or several.

Yanyan carefully dipped the duck intestines in and out of the spicy Sichuan broth. After a few minutes, the duck intestines cooked and soaked through with those deadly peppercorns, I dipped the duck guts into a bowl of sesame sauce and garlic and took my first bite ever of duck intestines. I chewed, masticated, gnawed, then chewed some more on the rubbery viscera. The verdict? If you don’t mind the tire-like texture and you have strong teeth and jaws, duck intestines is eatable. Unlike pig intestines, the duck variety has no strong feces flavor.

My jaw needs the workout

A few weeks later, my Korean friends asked me if I liked seafood. Of course I do! So one drizzly Wednesday, a group of us convened for Korean style hot pot. The restaurant walls were lined with tanks full of-- you guessed it-- fresh seafood. The mollusks imprisoned in glass tanks contrasted with the splashy cartoons of jovial octopuses, squid and clams emblazoning the restaurants’ walls-- a grim reminder of a former carefree life at sea.

Apparently, Koreans prefer their seafood really, really, really fresh, so fresh that the seafood comes to the table alive and writhing. Then the poor creatures either get cut into pieces with scissors to be consumed raw (and writhing) or suffer a slow death as they are brought to a boil before the diners’ eyes.

The verdict on the raw (and still writhing) octopus: very fresh, like fresh sushi. The octopus was chewy with not much of a “sea” flavor. Now I wasn’t just giddy with the novelty of eating the still moving, but I actually thought that the hacked cephalopod  (with sauce) was just plain good.

So, what’s next in my food adventures? Who knows? I never imagined that saying yes to hum-drum lunch invitations would result in a duck gut or live octopus feast.

My motto remains as is: Eat it. Don’t say no to food.

Chinese word of the blog: 鸭肠 yācháng
English translation: duck intestines

Say yes to fresh seafood

Say yes to this loaded cheeseburger

Watch this 3 minute video to see how we eat and roll

The Gambler

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealing's done
-Kenny Rogers

Milk additives that kill children, agricultural crops irrigated with human waste, bathrooms with open trough toilets and no running water –therefore increasing the risk of spreading fecal borne disease. These stories from China make any foreigner shudder, especially one accustomed to the FDA’s regulations and the organic food selections at the co-op supermarket. So foreigners exchange food safety advice – peel fruits and vegetables, don’t eat anything raw from a restaurant, and stay away from food carts. Even so, a foreigner will inevitably suffer stomach woes.

So naturally, a popular conversation topic among foreigners is food poisoning – how many times, what caused it, and how bad was it. Swapping sickness stories always results in good entertainment (but only long after the event). For the last two months, birdMAN and I have proudly proclaimed, “We eat whatever we want – street food, raw foods, unpeeled foods. And we have NOT been sick. We have immune systems like steel. Stomachs of iron.” Hah! That is no longer true.

As mentioned in the previous blog (Octopus’s Garden), we could not wait to eat the seafood in Qingdao. We threw caution to the wind. Clams, crab, oysters, squid, and shrimp all picked from a street-side display, eaten without rice and without restraint.

I fold! The clams win.

The day following our night of seafood gluttony, we planned an excursion to Lao Shan (崂山). Lao Shan, a coastal mountain, is a reputedly a must-see in Qingdao. Along with the droves of people eager to see Lao Shan, we stuffed ourselves onto a packed tour bus. No seats for us. We stood at the front of the bus and found a wall on which to lean. The traffic was so congested that the 1 hour bus ride turned into a 3 hours. As I stood and eventually leaned against the bus wall, I experienced the first signs of stomach distress. A few pangs here and there.

Upon arriving at Lao Shan, we were so tired of the bus (and people). We made our way to the entrance. The first thing we noticed beyond the lines of people entering the gate, not a picturesque trail to stroll up the mountain, but MORE BUSES. An information sign said that the entrance fee was 130 RMB and to protect the environment, visitors will board the bus to the scenic area. We agreed that paying 130 RMB each and stuffing ourselves on another bus was the last thing we wanted to do. My stomach hurt anyway.

As a side note, Lao Shan has the worst bathroom I have ever visited. No privacy with open holes that chute to a ditch outside of the bathroom building (for everyone to see). If you visit, just prepare yourself. After a visit, you may feel like you developed food poisoning. Fortunately, I had no major discharges here.

Instead of getting on the bus, we walked along the highway back towards Qingdao. About 30 minutes later, intense waves of stomach cramps caused me to stop and lean over. After a minute and the pain subsided, I could walk again. I imagined that this is what contractions are like before giving birth. birdMAN flagged down a taxi driving the opposite way. Much to my relief, the taxi U-turned to pick us up. The taxi dropped us off at a beach about a 20 minute walk away from the hostel. We were in Qingdao and hadn’t seen the beach yet, so why not? I thought I could tough it out, but the smells wafting from the squid and hotdogs grilling at snack carts were too much. I found a place with relatively few people and vomited in a bush. The nausea combined with my stomach cramps told me this was going to get ugly.

This is me trying to enjoy the beach

And ugly it did. I will spare you the details, but a few hours later my body had emptied. Stupidly, I had left my stock of gastrointestinal medicine in Beijing. Meanwhile, birdMAN left me in the hostel to explore the nearby area. Why should he suffer with me? That night I felt better, probably because there was nothing left in me. I ate noodles for dinner while birdMAN ate a crab.

That night was pure illness. I felt bad for the people staying in the room next to the women’s bathroom. The next morning, birdMAN learned how to read the characters for pharmacy (药店) and we ventured out of the hostel in search of a cure. I did not make it very far. I will again spare you the details, but I called birdMAN a few minutes after we parted ways and told him to buy some laundry detergent.

birdMAN continued down the street stopping at a few stores to ask “附近哪里买药?” (Nearby where buy medicine?) Each store pointed him the same direction. He knew he reached the right place when he saw this sign:

Every sick traveler's dream come true!

So he went inside. He found himself surrounded by 6 Chinese people in lab coats trying to understand his problem. He said “我的太太... 腹泻” (“My wife…diarrhea”).  They got the point. After about 30 minutes of meeting with the doctor and listening to her instructions, birdMAN walked out of the clinic with a bag of medicine. He had succeeded.

Over the next three days, I took green herbal pills, two different powders mixed with water, a tube of white goop, and some pain medicine. The concoction cured me! But I would have no more seafood during my stay in Qingdao. Our final night in Qingdao I ate a rice bun and birdMAN ate his third crab.

The healing concoction

birdMAN, however, did not escape unscathed. His three nights of unrestrained seafood consumption eventually caught up to him. He didn’t get as sick as me, but for about four days after leaving Qingdao, he needed Pepto-bismol pills and for caution’s sake, to stick close to a bathroom.

What’s the lesson? You have to know when to eat, and when to run. Don’t take any chances. Don’t forget the anti-diarrheal medicine at home. Eat a lot of rice with seafood. And if at all possible, avoid the Lao Shan bathroom.

Chinese word of the blog: 药店    yào diàn (literally, medicine store)
                                          English translation: pharmacy

Inside the Diarrhea Clinic -- Looks so sterile!

Octopus’s Garden

I’d like to be
Under the sea
In an octopus’s garden
In the shade
-    The Beatles

 

During last week’s National Holiday, we escaped Beijing by fast train and sojourned in Qingdao. Qingdao (青岛) is a hot destination for tourists, called the “City by the Sea” and valued for its temperate climate and abundant seafood. And yes, the seafood was abundant.

Upon arriving last Tuesday evening, the brine-laced breeze welcomed us. We breathed it in—ahh, air cleansed by the sea. As we proceeded up the narrow sloped streets, we passed several restaurant patrons sitting at collapsible tables and small stools. Set before them were plates of clams, fish, and shrimp swimming in garlic, ginger, and spices. The restaurants did not need menus. Instead, the food was displayed in tanks and bins: crab, shrimp, octopus all awaiting their fates. We could barely wait to enjoy Qingdao’s claim to fame—the seafood and beer.

We stayed at Kaiyue International Hostel, in the old district of Qingdao. The hostel was once a church, but now a haven for foreign travelers. The reception and wait staff speaks decent English and the cleaning staff is hyper-vigilant about mopping the entire place over and over again. The hostel has a comfortable lounge with wifi, pool tables, guitars, and a bar. The menu features several European and American dishes, including breakfast baked beans. We had the French toast, and it was delicious. Outside of the hostel, we rarely ran into foreigners (meaning non-Chinese). I think they were all in the lounge (or maybe sleeping), smoking cigarettes, drinking beer, and cursing about who knows what. While we enjoyed spending the late afternoon in the lounge reading our electronic tablets and studying Chinese, we departed once evening fell and the lounge turned into a smoky party/bar.

Kaiyue International Hostel

Sitting room and our room

Enjoying the hostel lounge

 Our room was simple and clean with a shared bathroom. We were at the end of the hall immediately adjacent to the bathroom, so I could hear all the foot traffic headed our way and toilet flushes all night. Throughout the first night, I listened to hacking, gagging, and other sounds of someone who was violently ill (too much seafood?). Despite sharing a bathroom (and hearing toilet flushes), we would definitely stay there again. The hostel is clean and comfortable in a great downtown location, and the price is cheap-- 160 RMB (~$25 USD) per night for two persons in a private room.

The old part of Qingdao features German type architecture, which made us feel like we were in a bizarre version of an old European city. Among the cobble streets and ornate light fixtures were crowds of Chinese people selling vegetables and chickens in small cages on the sidewalk. Near the university, we found very charming coffee houses with picturesque courtyards. We mostly ate at outdoor restaurants that sold cheap beer and had menus entirely in Chinese. Somehow we were able to order food (thank goodness we know how to say rice, vegetables, beer, and ask how much things are). It is very Chinese in Qingdao, meaning nobody spoke English and most the signs are Chinese. I am glad to report our first trip by ourselves was a success, with a few inconvenient setbacks.

An alluring display of seafood

As mentioned earlier, we could not wait to eat the seafood. Many restaurants display the seafood selections on large tables making it easy to point and order. birdMAN eyed a restaurant  with whole crab and decided that crab is what he would eat. Before sitting down, I asked the server how much did a pitcher of beer cost?  I am 99% positive she told me 13 RMB.  Sounds good. So we ate like gluttons enjoying crab, clams, giant clams, shrimp, and squid along with a pitcher of beer.  After we added up what the meal should cost, we asked for the bill. A different server brought the bill and told us we owe over 170 RMB. What? We had calculated closer to 150 RMB. Why? we ask. He told us the price of each item. The price of the beer was 38 RMB. We hesitated. Didn’t the other server tell us 13 RMB? We half-heartedly disagreed, but the server was adamant.  38 RMB. You must pay 38 RMB. Since we were uncomfortable with the language, we paid.

After leaving, I was pretty annoyed. I started asking nearby restaurants how much a pitcher of beer cost. The cost ranged from 8 RMB to 18 RMB. We are pretty positive that the server took advantage of us and overcharged us royally for the beer. In retrospect, I wish I had gone to another table and asked the patrons what they paid. Or demanded to see a price list. I do know the hanzi for beer. But we yielded, and allowed ourselves to get swindled. What’s the lesson? Be pushier and demand foreign and Chinese tourists get equal treatment!

The worst outcome of that meal was not that we overpaid, but that I became horribly ill the next day (more on that later—the subject deserves its own blog).

Afterward, we were much more careful about establishing the costs at restaurants. A few days later while near the famous Qingdao brewery, we were on the hunt for a pitcher of green beer, a specialty beer infused with spirulina. We walked by several restaurants with beckoning servers, “Sit here! We have the best food and the best beer!” We would ask how much is the green beer (绿啤)?  We were told 80 RMB at three restaurants. At the fourth restaurant, the server actually showed us a price list and pointed to the price, 60 RMB. We were sold! So we sat outside, enjoyed the clean air while leisurely sipping green beer. Supposedly the beer is good for health. I found it refreshingly easy to drink. And I admit I was very relaxed afterward.

Qingdao is a quick and easy get-away from Beijing and near the ocean with a number of beaches. The weather is pleasing. The people are nice.  Qingdao self-proclaims it as the “Center of Beer Culture” (I think the Germans might disagree.)  Just confirm the prices and don’t eat too much seafood at once.

Chinese word of the blog: 海鲜    hǎi xiān   (literally ocean tasty)
                                          English translation: seafood

A busy beach during the Mid-Autumn Festival

B ate three crabs in three days (thanks Dad for teaching him how to eat the body!)

Qingdao green beer -- very tasty

B made friends on the beach -- too bad he didn't bring his speedo

Beach gym

Jelly fish for sale! Only 10 RMB