liuzhou

Some monstrous, fiendish demonic psychopath from the bowels of depravity has designed a new range of t-shirt and shorts combo. And the UN is doing nothing about it! It shouldn’t ought to be allowed! I apologise from the heart of my bottom for displaying this sacrilegious, toxic perversion here but it is an emergency! The end is nigh!

Crayfish get complicated. Especially in China. 10 years ago, although a few people knew what they were, next to no-one ate them. The one species of Chinese crayfish, Cambaroides dauricus was (and still is) very rare and they are very small, so not really worth eating. Today in 2024, it is said that 90% of all crayfish eaten by humans are done so in China. But first the name. For a start, as I’m sure everyone knows, they are not fish but crustaceans. More importantly, they go under four common names in English. All are derived from the Old French word crevisse, at first spelled creusses (wih ‘u’ being pronounced as ‘v’ in Old English). This first appeared in the early 1400s. In modern French, it is écrevisse. By 1555 this had morphed into crefysshe, the earliest fish-like reference, found in Richard Eden's Decades of the Newe Worlde or West India (eG-friendly Amazon.com link). Crawfish followed in 1624 in The Generall Historie of Virginia, New England, and the Summer Isles (eG-friendly Amazon.com link) by Capt. John Smith, now mainly known for his part in the Pocahontas myths and legends. “They caught‥great craw-fishes.” More recent arrivals are crawdad (in an 1878 Indiana magazine) and its variant crawdaddy (1901 in a Minnesota news paper, The Globe). In China they are 小龙虾 (xiǎo lóng xiā). This literally means ‘small dragon shrimp’ but more pragmatically means ‘little lobster’. This can be misleading as some restaurants drop the ‘small’ part on their menus leaving the diners expecting lobster but getting crayfish. Price is your best guide. Lobster is much, much more expensive; one lobster will cost more than 2 kg of crayfish. I've never heard of any restaurant charging lobster prices for crayfish. An older name, 螯虾 (áo xiā) is less ambiguous, meaning 'nipper (or chela) shrimp', but I guess the marketing people saw that one off. Having sorted out names (at least in two languages) there is still confusion. Where do the things come from? The crayfish eaten today, Astacus fluviatilis were first imported to East Asia in the 1930s from Louisiana in the USA, to Japan. To feed not humans but bullfrogs which were and remain a popular protein. The frogs were imported from the USA, too. Only during the years after World War 2, did Japanese troops introduce the Louisiana crayfish to China. They were still largely shunned as being unfit for human consumption although they did for a time become popular pets. However some people, mainly rural peasant farmers, were eating them as a cheap or even free food supply. In the 2000s, many of these people, especially the younger generations, left their homes to seek employment in the cities when China became the world’s factory and the economy was starting to boom. Like migrants everywhere, they took their food culture with them and their new neighbours were happy to supply them with their needs. By 2016, the number being eaten had risen hugely and a trend developed, first in Shanghai then across China. Crayfish became a hugely popular meal among mainly young people in the same way as the various hotpots across China are enjoyed. As a communal activity. Groups of friends began to meet over huge platters of crayfish, peeling them themselves and washing them down with beers. Informal, messy and great fun! They would get through kilos of the critters – 20 kg for a party of four is not uncommon. This continues to this day. Crayfish farms began to sprout up all over China but especially in Hebei and Jiangsu provinces – it is no coincidence these border Beijing and Shanghai, respectively. Today, live crayfish are ubiquitous; supermarkets carry them in huge tankfuls and I can have them delivered to my door live or cooked in twenty minutes. Crayfish in my local supermarket So how are they cooked, you rightfully ask. Generally, they are stir-fried with popular seasonings such as garlic, or with Beijing’s 13-spice mix. 13-Spice Powder 麻辣 (má là), the well known Sichuan flavour of Sichuan pepper and chilli is also a popular choice. The liquid component of any sauce is often beer although that's usually mostly boiled off; it tends to be a dry but sticky dish. Mala crayfish being cooked You can even get your crayfish fix at KFC or Pizza Hut where they throw them on pizzas. You may have come across Lay’s crayfish chips / crisps which are now sold through Amazon, but originated in China. All that said, I seldom eat them. Too much pain for so little gain. I’m sure de-shelling them and finding the meat consumes more calories than they replace! Give me real lobsters! Hang the expense!

I try not to store spices; or, at least not for long. Most that I can want and get are sold in resealable 15g or 50g bags from a high turnover store. The once exception was coriander seed which until recently I could only buy imported and came in 500g packs. In just the last few months, I have found them in 15g bags, too. The idea of year-old or more spices does not appeal, at all. I never use dried herbs other than bay leaf which again come in 15g packs.

Donkey is similar to horse but even more tender. It has that same slightly sweet flavour, too. Both horse and donkey are common meats in parts of China. Not so much where I live, but I can get both. Donkey is definitely my favourite red meat, though. How is zebra?

I’ve eaten the meat many times and cooked it even more, but this is a northern China thing which I ate almost thirty years ago in Beijing. It’s been mentioned on a few topics before and recent mentions sent me towards this. I wanted to see how a local restaurant in the south makes a northern classic and how it compares, although an interval of thirty years may have dulled my memories a little. Of course, I’m talking about 驴肉火烧 (lǘ ròu huǒ shāo), in which 驴肉 (lǘ ròu) is ‘donkey meat’, while 火烧 (huǒ shāo) means ‘set on fire’ but in this context refers to a baked wheaten roll. However, the whole thing is usually referred to as a ‘donkey burger’, often by the very shops selling them. This example, as their literature goes out of its way to make clear, is enhanced with some spicy green chillies which I don’t recall from Beijing, but they are notorious wimps up there. And that was pretty much it. It was delicious. Tender meat and still al dente chilli. There was a minimum order of two, which is what I got and ate, but I would have been happy with a third, if I could cram it in. They are deceptively filling. ¥13.8 / $1.90 USD each. Definitely one to revisit.

Sorry. That I can't answer. I can buy it in China. I just did.

Mystiqanna Amsterdam Gin. Dutch gin distilled with hemp (no THC), but flavoured with the herbal cannabis. 40% by volume. Very pleasant. ¥168.81 / $23.26 USD for 500 ml.

This is a BSBLT ©2024 liuzhou! Blood Sausage, Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato. BSB Mise Awaiting Lid

Yes, I remember that travelogue you did on your Beijing trip. I'm now thinking that a Donkey Roujiamo might be on the cards soon. Never tried that but see no reason why not. First, I'll need to clear out the freezer a bit though; I can only buy the asinine meat in packs of 1 kg and freezer real estate isn't up to it at the moment.

My mother would have agreed on that!

You're welcome. Sounds very strange indeed. If it was intestines then it wasn't tripe. Not that I mind intestines, either. Anyway, thanks for the posts. Interesting reads, even though it's highly unlikely I'll ever get to San Diego.

Here, for your edification, is what they call a 'donkey burger' around these parts, as mentioned above. Looks more like a bánh mì lừa (donkey banh mi) to me. Image: Meituan Food Delivery App

Shrimp and clam fried hand-pulled noodles with crab roe sauce.

US avocado inspectors stop work in Mexican state over ‘security situation’

Unfortunately the link goes to a page reading "Private Site - This site is currently private. If you’re the owner or contributor, log in." I never liked tripe (despite my mother's many attempts to convert me) until I ate it in China. I've since eaten it in Japan and Vietnam; maybe Thailand. I don't know how or why, but East Asia seems to do something else entirely with it.

No. They sit where you see them sitting. Wait staff bring them bowls of noodles in broth* and then they add ingredients of their choice from the dishes in the centre of the long table. These are repeated along the length of the table and are replenished as required. More broth is available on request. * The women in the striped apron top right of the image is bringing some one a bowl of noodles.

For example?

Is it? I can think of several things it wouldn't dice. How would that dice a potato? It works with onions because, as The Incredible String Band pointed out, onions have a layered structure, meaning they don't need cutting in three directions like potatoes etc. Potatoes need peeling, slicing, cutting into batons then making the cubes. That machine can't do at least one of these. Also, you need to cut the onion with a knife first anyway! I can do all the steps wiith a knife. Also again, with a knife, I have as many dice sizes as I need, not just two. And there is enough junk in my kitchen already, thanks. Pass.

I'm putting this here as it seems to fit and doesn't belong anywhere else. Nor do I think it deserves a new topic of its own. The 'all you can eat buffet concept' is universal I think, although I generally avoid it. You have no idea how long that food has been sitting there. But this Guangxi style AYCE restaurant here in Liuzhou seems to be doing just fine.

I dice often: onions, carrots, meats, potatoes and more. I mainly use a revolutionary, cunning new device - a cleaver. Sometimes, a chef's knife. Both are quicker than any machine I would have to get out of storage, set up, use, clean and re-store.

Some things I can only find from the delivery people rather than in the market or supermarkets. One is blood sausage, which I fancied this morning. I also ordered some clams and 芥菜 (jiè cài), which you probably know as gailan, the Canto-name. But that is not my point here. Along with my order came this large (250g), unexpected bunch of 空心菜 (kōng xīn cài, literally 'hollow heart vegetable'), water spinach or ong choy in Cantonese, rau muống in Vietnamese, and ผักบุ้ง (phak bung) in Thai. They also included some pre-peeled garlic cloves. I guess they have a glut of it. It is the most popular green vegetable here, so they may have overstocked. Anyway, thanks! You can see the 'hollow' hearts here.

Here are some 小葱 (xiǎo cōng) or shallots I picked up this morning in the market. The skin looks a bit frazzled but they are fine inside.

100g avocados here are around ¥8 each, which is the equivalent of $1.10 USD but then most are imported from Chile which is far away. They are beginning to be grown locally in Yunnan province which neighbours Guangxi where I am, but they are not plentiful, yet. I've only seen them once. I'm sure that will change.

For ส้มตำ (som tam), when you can cut or peel it without breaking your knife or peeler in half. The one I bought is literally rock hard, but should be OK after a day or two on the counter. It can be difficult to be sure, but if there is even the slightest give when you press it's good to go. I use a peeler to peel it (of course) but also to cut it into strips which I then pound to tenderize. This recipe is basically what I do.

When I first arrived in China in 1996, asparagus was totally unavailable, to my distress. The eight and a half week long English asparagus season, traditionally between St George’s day on the 23rd of April through to the Summer Solstice on the 21st of June was the peak of my year before I moved. Still the best asparagus in the world. In London it is often known as ‘sprue*’, ‘grass’ or 'sprue grass' as well as its regular name, although when he was a child, my son insisted it was ‘sparrow grass’, a name which lingers in the family. We ate it almost every day when we could. When asparagus arrived in China a few years ago, no one knew what it was, but they decided it looks a bit like bamboo shoots (they are very imaginative), so called it 芦笋 (lú sǔn) which literally means ‘reed bamboo shoot’. Many still think it is a type of bamboo. At first, it was only available as fat, over-woody spears, but they learned to pick it earlier, although they still prefer the fatter ones. Pencil asparagus is rare in supermarkets but one vendor in my local wet market usually has it when in season. Still nowhere as good as English, though. Only about a year ago, did I find white asparagus - spargel and that was online. It is still only available that way. Not that it bothers me; I’ve never seen the attraction, although one German woman who was living here called me, almost in hysterics, demanding to know where I found it after I posted a picture containing it on Chinese social media. I don’t get it it, but was happy to tell her. The locals tend to stir fry it with garlic as they do with most green vegetables. I pan roast, steam or fry. Pencil asparagus I often eat raw. Breakfast * ‘Sprue was originally only used to describe low quality asparagus although by a process of linguistic amelioration is now used for all asparagus, at least in London.