liuzhou

Then the description in French is wrong.

Interesting. The image looks like nori, but it's kelp according to the French.

Yes. Very addictive.

You spelled probably incorrectly. It's 'Certainly'.

Because I can; because I want to; because I can afford to (occasionally).

I forgot to mention that xíu mại is etmologically linked to the Cantonese shumai, the dim sum dumplings. Somehow, when Vietnam decided to recreate them, they morphed into meatballs! Bánh cuốn also originated in China and are also popular here where they are known as 蒸粉卷 (zhēng fěn juǎn), literally 'steamed rice rolls' - same thing really.

15. 海藻 (hǎi zǎo) Walk into my local supermarket and in one corner you are met by piles of what appears to be large sheets of distressed leather with a funky smell. This regularly baffles newcomers, as it did me. This ancient cow hide is on sale and there are even people buying it. In fact, this stuff has never been wrapped around a cow. What you are confronted with is seaweed (海藻 (hǎi zǎo), specifically dried kelp 海带 (hǎi dài), literally 'sea belt', one of about 30 genera in the order Laminariales. These grow in the cold seas in the north east of China and is shipped here in various forms. Kelp needs clean water at a temperature between 6 and 14℃ / 43 and 57℉. It takes its nutrition from the sun and so requires clear coastal waters that allow the sunlight to penetrate. Note that not all kelp species have the float bladders found in the North American variety. In ideal circumstances, the kelp forests can grow to 45 metres / 150 ft tall, with some species growing 27 to 60 cm / 10 to 24 inches per day. Not only do the kelp forests provide us with highly nutritional fodder, they offer protection and a diverse ecosystem to the many life forms which shelter within. Algae, fish and shrimp all take advantage, some living there all their lives. Others only use them as nursery areas for their young. So how is kelp used? Much more than you might think. Even if you’ve never knowingly eaten it, you probably have ingested some at some point. It is used in toothpaste as a binding agent. You may have washed your hair with it! And if you are a fan of ranch dressing or common breakfast cereals, you’ve eaten it. It is used as a binder there, too. It is a good source of calcium for us oldies and vitamin K doesn’t go amiss either. It is also low in calories and, most importantly, it tastes good! Kelp forests are under threat from rising sea temperatures and storms like El Nino wreak huge damage. Australia, for example, has been reported as losing more than 60 miles of forest to rising temperatures. Back in the supermarket, besides the sheets of leather we can find kelp in more manageable pieces – both fresh and dried. Short pieces are tied into very popular kelp knots which are used in soups, hotpots, and cooked salads. It is also sold cut into strips like noodles. Fresh Kelp Knots Dried Kelp Knots Kelp Knot Salad Kelp "Noodles" Kelp is also pickled and sold in small packets as a snack food. Pickled Kelp Pickled Kelp But, kelp isn't the only seaweed on offer. We also have 紫菜 (zǐ cài), literally 'purple vegetable'. This is what you probably know as 'nori' - 海苔 or のり, in Japanese or 'laver', in English. Again there are several varieties, but they all belong to the Porphyra family. Laver is often sold dried in sheets for use with sushi (or just to snack on) but we also get it in its fresh natural state. This is what should be in your seaweed and egg drop soup and in the best Chinese restaurants is your crispy seaweed, although that is nearly always fried cabbage. Here is is often sold dried in these circular packs from which we break off what we need. I always have some in the pantry. It is also used in a number of manufactured goods such as imported instant soups from Japan, my favourite crackers and even Lay’s have got in on the act with laver flavoured chips, or to use their correct name, crisps. 😂 Instant Laver Soup from Japan I have been known to crumble dried laver into beer batter for my fish and chips. A very versatile and healthy ingredient. I've also subbed it for furikake, the Japanese rice flavouring, when that has been unavailable. Then we have my favourite of all the sea vegetables (seen in my first picture) . This is 海草 (hǎi cǎo), seagrass. Unlike kelp or laver, which are algae, these are true plants sharing characteristics with land-bound plants. In fact the approximately 60 different seagrasses are the only plants which can survive total, permanent immersion in water. They have flowers, fruit and seeds and form underwater meadows. Seagrass lawns also offer protection for young shrimp and other species. I've only ever seen this sold fresh. I like this with almost everything. Always with fish, especially sushi or sashimi... ... but even with cheese. Yet another is locally called 海石花 (hǎi shí huā) in Chinese. That literally translates as 'sea stone flower'. More commonly known as Dragon's Beard (龙须 - lóng xū). A yellowish fawn coloured weed, usually sold dried, but sometimes available fresh. Scientists tell us that future generations may have to rely on seaweed and seegrasses as a food source, but at the same time tell us the same species are under threat. Seagrasses are also endangered by coastal 'development', by floods which disturb the sediment and by outboard motors etc. I won't be here to see it and I ain't religious but I pray for sense to prevail.

The Guardian has today again told her story. The article is a bit light on detail though. It does, however, list her car registration plate number (although they get it slightly wrong. It's 贵A88888).

The descriptions are pretty well translated, but I would make a couple of comments. The Vietnamese on the Saigon one reads 'bahn mi with everything' or 'mixed bahn mi'. A bit of everything. Literally it means "Crucifixion" sandwich - they must be a story behind that! But I don't know it. The last one. If it is lemongrass (likely) it should be 'xả' and not 'xé'. So, to summarise Bánh mì thập cẩm – Bahn mi with everything (literally ‘Crucifixion bahn mi’.) Bánh mì thịt nướng, nem nướng – Bahn mi with grilled pork, grilled pork skewers Bánh mì xíu mại – Bahn mi with meatballs Bánh mì pate chà bông – Bahn mi with country style pâté Bánh mì chay – Vegetarian bahn mi Bánh mì gà xả – Bahn mi with chicken and lemongrass

I was indeed referring to the ingredients. Pigs tend not to be named here, either.

All the stuff I can easily buy (except the spicing)!

Working breakfast. 肉包 (ròu bāo) - Pork buns

14. 百合 (bǎi hé) In a basket next to the weigh station in the local supermarket, I usually find a bunch of these. They look like the bulbs my mother used to plant in the garden and forget about. And that is what they are. Flower bulbs. But these are for eating and are very popular round these parts. Day Lily Bulbs What you are looking at is a day lily bulb and day lilies 百合 (bǎi hé) Hemerocallis fulva, are native to east Asia (China, Japan and Korea in particular) and are prized grub for the locals – and for me. They were first mentioned in China in 656 AD. The crisp bulb, shoots, buds and the bright, mild tasting orange flowers are all edible. The flowers, shoots and buds need no cooking, but the locals don’t do raw. Incidentally, day lilies aren’t true lilies which are a different species, Lilium. The day lily bulb is segmented, a bit like an onion, and the segments are usually stir fried. Segmented Day Lily Bulb The flowers are dried and used in soups, hot pots etc. Dried Day Lily Flowers - 百合干 Almost every banquet features a dish of lily bulb with celery and ginkgo or cashew nuts. This mix is briefly fried and comes out more like a salad than a stir-fry. Very refreshing. Day Lily Bulb, Celery and Cashew I’ve only found fresh flowers once (my friends’ were surprised I’d found them at all – they never have) and they were delicious – half in a soup and the remainder stuffed and fried like we do with squash flowers. Fresh Day Lily Flowers - 百合花 Fresh Day Lily Flowers - - 百合花 Day lilies can be foraged in most of the places we live, but, as always, be sure you know what you are doing and collecting. Some cultivars are poisonous. Much safer to buy them from a reliable source or grow them yourself.

Almost exactly what I thought, although my luxury would be champagne and caviar.

I've never measured it, but I'd say you were close, depending on breed of duck.

It does coagulate very quickly. However immediately adding vinegar prevents coagulation. This may account for the invention of this dish.

Ducks and chickens are normally bled, yes. The precious blood is saved and either comes with the bird or is sold separately. My neighbours buy live birds and do this themselves, but the markets will do it for you. Supermarkets sell the blood separately from the birds or bird parts.

13. 全州醋血鸭 (quán zhōu cù xuè yā) A short one today, but one that will have some people reaching for the smelling salts and others, including me, salivating. But first some background. The Yao ethnic minority (瑶族 - yáo zú) number roughly around 3 million in China with a further million in Vietnam, where they are known as the Dao. The Chinese population live mainly here in Guangxi as well as in Guizhou and Hunan provinces. I have a couple of good Yao friends. In the far north-east of Guilin prefecture is Quanzhou County (全州县 - quán zhōu xiàn) which was historically part of Hunan, which it now borders. It has a significant Yao population. Quanzhou has one famous dish, which evolved from a Hunan dish, but now has its own distinct characteristics and can be found all over Guangxi. 全州醋血鸭 - Quanzhou Vinegar Blood Duck This is 醋血鸭 (cù xuè yā), literally ‘vinegar blood duck’. A young duck is chopped on the bone and stir fried with garlic, ginger, chilli, bitter melon, sesame and peanuts and finished in a rich sauce made from the bird’s blood and vinegar. Served with green vegetables of choice and rice, it makes for a delicious lunch or instead can be served as part of a larger family style meal. The vinegar cuts the richness of the blood, whereas the blood limits the astringency of the vinegar, leaving the duck tender and juicy, but not at all greasy. The locals are not afraid of blood. The local markets and supermarkets happily sell chicken, duck and pork blood, sometimes congealed to a tofu like consistency for hotpots, or still liquid to be added to sauces. I like the dish so much, that writing this led me to ordering some for dinner.

13. 扣肉 (kòu ròu) Guilin Mifen (above) is well-known to the many travellers who turn up in Guilin every year to be scalped. I have an edition of Lonely Planet China from 1996 which says: Since then, things have only gotten worse. And it doesn’t help that so many tour groups roll into town in their coaches, ticking off sights and waving their dollars around, tipping left right and centre (China has no tipping culture) and accepting the first price quoted rather than bargaining down to at least a quarter of that – often an eighth. They make it so difficult for those who actually live here. Then there are the backpackers. Been in China ten minutes and they’ve worked everything out and now only want pizza and hamburgers. Yes, the scenery around the city is stunning and worth seeing – once. Yangshuo, the small town on the river where everyone ends up has changed from being a nice if small Chinese town into a hustlers’ paradise, complete with KFC and McDs and rip off hotels. Horrible, horrible place. Yangshuo 1996 And that is where almost everyone (even the pizza crowd) feels obliged to eat the local speciality, not the noodles, but Guilin’s “most popular dish”, Yangshuo Beer Fish. The problem is that few actually do. The dish is authentic OK, but not in most of Yangshuo’s cafés and restaurants. It is heavily adjusted to perceived western tastes. Instead of a whole on the bone fish from the local river, they serve filets as “foreigners are afraid of bones”; they use red bell peppers instead of hot chilli peppers because “foreigners don’t do spicy”. There are a number of “cooking schools” in the town offering to teach you to make the dish – avoid them – what you make will be nothing like the real thing. Traditional Yangshuo beer fish is made with a freshly caught 1 to 1.5 kg carp from the local river, the River Li, perhaps caught by a cormorant – probably not. The fish is gutted, but not scaled and certainly not filleted. It is then fried whole in camellia oil until the scales form a hard crust, then the fish is braised with the local Liquan beer, red and green chilli peppers, garlic, onions, celery, tomatoes, soy, sugar and oyster sauce. Made correctly, and the tomatoes are an unusual addition, it isn’t a bad dish, but far from my favourite. There are recipes on the internet, but they are nearly all hopeless. Check for mention of intact scales – a good sign of authenticity. If you find yourself in Yangshuo, Meijie Yangshuo Beer Fish (梅姐啤酒鱼) is recommended as being authentic. I’ve never been to that venue. I can’t stand the town. So, I’m going to ignore that dish and instead bring you what is probably Guilin’s real most popular dish (and is also popular across Guangxi.) Something tour parties and backpackers rarely, if ever encounter. The odd thing about this dish is that it didn’t originate in Guangxi, at all, but was adopted and adapted to local tastes. It turns up at every festivity from Chinese New Year to weddings. Almost every family dinner I’ve been at, it has made an appearance. In the 15-day long Spring Festival, I’ve been served it 15 times in 15 different homes! The Hakka people, 客家 (kè jiā – the name means ‘travelling people’) in Mandarin, originated in the north of China, but migrated south to avoid persecution. Many now live in Guangdong and here in Guangxi. Like migrants the world over they brought their food with them. One dish in particular, they introduced to the local Zhuang people. That was 梅菜扣肉 (méi cài kòu ròu) which consisted and still consists of fatty pork belly with mustard greens. The Zhuang took this dish and swapped the mustard greens for taro slices and came up with 芋头扣肉 (yù tou kòu ròu), usually just called 扣肉 (kòu ròu) here, as it is now the default. Lipu 荔浦 (lì pǔ) a small county town 100 km / 62 miles south of Guilin is famous for the quality of its taro crop. Incidentally, and irrelevantly, the local hares are the best I’ve eaten, too, but it isn’t famous for that – until now. Kou Rou The 扣 in 扣肉 is an interesting character. It has several meanings: button up; buckle; place a cup, bowl, etc. upside down; cover with an inverted cup, bowl, etc.; detain; take into custody; arrest; deduct; discount; knot; button; buckle; smash. What we want are the “cup, bowl” references. The pork is blanched then fried to crispen the skin. Then it is sliced and deep fried; the taro also is sliced and fried. The two are then interleaved in a bowl and steamed for over an hour. It is a complicated dish to make, so most people buy it from the local supermarkets or markets. The taro soaks up the excess fat from the pork, becoming rather succulent. A gravy/ sauce is also made from red chilli peppers, garlic, Guilin fermented bean curd (腐乳 - fǔ rǔ), Shaoxing wine, honey, white pepper, star anise and other seasonings. Once everything is ready, the bowl is turned upside down and the meat and taro served pineapple-upside-down-cake-style. Ready to Steam For a fuller story of making 扣肉, see this topic about a 扣肉 festival I attended a few years ago.

Brie au Bleu with Seaweed Crackers and Seagrass.

12. 米粉 (mǐ fěn) I’ve said this before, but it seems like every town and city in Guangxi has its own noodle speciality. Eaten for breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack or whatever, these are almost always rice noodles (米粉 (mǐ fěn)) here in the south. 面条 (miàn tiáo) wheat noodles are more common in northern China. Note: mǐ fěn is pronounced like 'mee fun'. Although rice noodles can be fried (炒粉 - chǎo fěn), the most popular dishes are all soupy noodles. It would be impossible to list every rice noodle dish, but here are the three most common and famous. 老友粉 (lǎo yǒu fěn) – Nanning Old Friend Noodles As with many Chinese dishes there is a story behind the name. This differs slightly from telling to telling, but the basics remain the same. It is said that, 100 years ago, there was an old man who was suffering from some ailment (often said to be a bad cold) and was basically withering away as he had no appetite for life, never mind food. All attempts to reach out to him were rebuffed until his oldest friend made him a bowl of noodles using what he happened to have to hand. As soon as the invalid smelled the dish he perked up and asked to try it. He loved the dish and was soon restored to full health. The story and the noodles fame spread and small shacks all over the city started to sell this new dish known as – old friend noodles! Apocryphal as the story probably is (I almost hope it’s true), the noodles remain very popular in Nanning, Guangxi’s capital city where they are available on every corner. Here is one example I ate in a small hole-in-the-wall place near Nanning railway station on my way home from Vietnam in 2018. As with all these places, the diner is free to add whatever condiments they prefer. Depending on the restaurant, you may also be asked what type of noodles you want – round or flat. The rice noodles are served in a broth with pickled bamboo shoots and fried chilli peppers. Additionally, it includes garlic, scallions, fermented black beans and pork or pig offal. For me, what sets it apart is that it also contains tomato, somewhat unusual in a noodle dish. The overall flavour combines a certain tartness from the bamboo with a mild spiciness. And it is something that cuts through the worst cold symptoms. 螺蛳粉 (luó sī fěn) – Liuzhou River Snail Noodles There is archaeological evidence to suggest that the local people in Liuzhou were eating snails thousands of years ago. It took until the late 1960s or early 1970s for someone to put them together with the local rice noodles. Precisely who that was is a matter of great argument in the city. Whoever it was, is kind of irrelevant now. The city is awash with places making and selling the dish. In fact, many visitors say the city stinks of luosifen. It is a divisive smell. I liken it to the asparagus pee phenomenon – some people smell it and hate it and some just don’t smell it at all. I just don’t. Either asparagus or luosifen. 螺蛳 (luó sī) - Liuzhou River Snails I’ve written about this dish before, particularly here, so I won’t repeat myself too much other than to say the dish consists of rice noodles served in a very spicy stock made from the local river snails (a type of small Viviparaidae which live in the local river, the Liujiang, as well as in local rice paddies, ponds etc) and pig bones which are stewed for up to 16 hours with black cardamom, fennel seed, dried tangerine peel, cassia bark, cloves, pepper, bay leaf, licorice root, sand ginger, and star anise. Various pickled vegetables, dried tofu skin (you may know this by its Japanese name, ユバ - yuba), fresh green vegetables, peanuts and loads of chilli are then usually added. Liuzhou Luosifen Two years before the pandemic, local manufacturers started making ‘instant luosifen’ to be sold in packets (for considerably more than the real thing). None of them are a patch on the dish made in any small Liuzhou restaurant, but appeal to those who cannot otherwise get their kick away from Liuzhou. The noodles became the No 1 seller during the pandemic and the various lockdowns. Ironically, Liuzhou was never locked down. However, a Guangxi friend, a nurse, who now lives in Tennessee, has pointed out to me that the bagged luosifen contains ridiculously high levels of sodium. One bag contains 6,560 mg of sodium. The maximum suggested by the American Heart Association is 2,300 mg and they would like to reduce that even further. The US sellers have relabelled the bags suggesting that a serving only contains 1,640 mg*, but that is based on a serving being a quarter of a bag. The whole bag is clearly labelled as being one serving and who is this cretin who buys a bag of instant noodles and only serves a quarter of it? My friend has given up eating luosifen until she returns to Guangxi for a visit. Save up your cents and come to Liuzhou. Heck, I’ll even buy you a bowl as a welcome! *Still above the AHA’s target of 1,500 mg. 桂林米粉 (guì lín mǐ fěn) - Guilin Mifen The rather prosaically named Guilin Mifen (literally Guilin Rice Noodles) is the tourist city’s most popular. It is said by some to be around 2,000 years old. Again it is rice noodles in a broth with pork (or beef), fried peanuts, pickled cow peas, bamboo shoots and dried turnips. Chilli powder, green onion, coriander leaf/ cilantro etc are provided for you to add to your own preference. There are Guilin Mifen restaurants all over the city, determined to separate you from your cash. Guilin Mifen Guilin Mifen (Closeup) Guilin Mifen Condiments and Additions. Note: A similar selection is provided for all the dishes here.

I'm lucky if I get all the way through a recipe without "improving" it with the odd tweak or two. A whole cookbook? No chance.

Unfortunately, you have stumbled upon an incomplete definition. Cordycep sinensis is a parastic fungi that grows on the larvae of insects. There are over 400 types of cordyceps. Non-parasitic human-bred varieties have become mainstream in recent years. What I ate (and regularly eat) is cordyceps militaris, a non-parasitic type. It is cultivated locally and often served in chicken soup. Dried Cordycep Militaris Fresh Cordyceps Militaris Although I would have no objection in principle to eating cordycep sinensis (I've eaten insects and I've eaten fungi, so I can save time and eat them together), sinensis is gathered from the wilds of the high Tibetan Himalayas and is, as a result, prohibitively expensive. It would be about $300 USD for that bowl of soup. Cordycep sinensis As to the word 'cordycep', it is derived from the Greek kordulē meaning ‘club’ and latin caput meaning 'head', presumably describing the shape. There are very, very few English menus outside of the largest cities (Beijing, Shanghai etc). Most of those in Liuzhou, I've translated! On menus most places, they would use the Chinese name, 虫草 (chóng cǎo) for sinensis and 虫草花 (chóng cǎo huā) for militaris. That last character in militaris means 'flower(s)' and indicates that it is only the fungus without the larvae. Even if someone misread it, the price would soon alert them. Militaris is very cheap.

中饭： Lunch 淮山骨头汤 (huái shān gǔ tou tāng) - Huaishan Bone Soup (pork bone soup with Chinese yam) 凉拌牛肉 (liáng bàn niú ròu) - Cold Dressed Beef ( a sort of beef and allium salad) 爆炒油豆腐 (bào chǎo yóu dòu fu) - Burst-Fried-Oil Tofu ("Burst Fried Oil" is the literal term for the cooking technique involving very high temperature wok cooking. You know the kind of thing all those jokers with their high octane burners think is daily routine. It isn't or they wouldn't need a special term for it when it is occasionally used, would they? /endrant ) 娃娃菜 (wá wa cài) - Baby Chinese Cabbage Burst-fried Tofu Cold-dressed Beef

That's what I've seen in VN, too