Peter Green

We'd use those bags for our regulators when we were diving. They were great for keeping the sand out.

I think we need to open another thread on Korean style crabs! There's a good few pages in that.

I had a nice dish in Yangshuo with shrimp fried up in a rough tea (lots of stems and leaves). The tea had the texture of crisp fried basil, and some very interesting flavour.

I dunno...there are so many ways for things to be done wrong (and I've managed to mess up at just about everything). Crab may be the most difficult to get right. Do you use your fingers? Do you use a fork? Do you use chopsticks? Whichever choice, there'll be someone staring at you like a space alien. (I remember being in India, and they had excellent, large crabs. The whole restaurant came to a standstill as they beheld the savage crunching and rending act that can only be committed by dedicated Korean diners.) Rice into soup. I get yelled at all the time for just spooning my rice into my Korean soups (rice and miyok guk is my favourite, and I don't care). People using cutlery with sticky rice. It's meant to be taken in your fingers, balled up, and eaten just like that, but I still watch my guests spoon it out of the containers that are meant to keep it moist. There, that's a start. Let the games begin.

Lots and lots. We just keep one tub of minced garlic in the fridge, and one in the freezer as an immediate backup. We'll buy a bundle of garlic once a month, soak them to help get the skins off, and then work from there. But I like the prepped squares idea! We've got to try that. Oh, and get in the habit of buying spring onions for no apparent reason. You'll find you need them all the time.

Our Bunch has Brunch on the Bund Easter Sunday and we arose to find the kids healthy and rested. We’d been told that, despite its name, the Museum of Urban Planning was worth a visit. This was an easy enough target, just over at People’s Square. We had brunch reservations on the Bund, so this would work out logistically. The museum is indeed worth the visit – that is, if you’re interested in the history of the city, and really, really, really keen on scale models. Scud, Serena, and I are all avid fans of such things, so no problems there. It would, of course, be much cooler if they had working robots of Godzilla, Gamora, and King Ghidorah duking it out….. There’s a thought. Can Shanghai really be a recognized as a leading city of the world if it hasn’t been a battleground for Japanese monsters (we’ll not mention the Imperial Army)? Anyways, this was the place to go to see Shanghai. In fact, if you really want the best view of the city lights, this was it. From this we did a leisurely stroll down to the Bund, using the streets running parallel to Nanjing Lu to avoid the crowds. And this led us to find KFC……Kung Fu Chicken! At first we thought maybe it was a new take on traditional martial arts, but no, once you looked inside it was obvious we were talking deep fried fast food here. It would’ve been fun to try and order something, but the clock was ticking, and they’d only fit us in at brunch at the last minute, probably due to my being so darned persistent (it helps to phone back every day for a week). And so we found ourselves back at 18 The Bund. Sens & Bund. I’d been looking forward to this. Mind you, I look forward to a lot of things where food is involved. I’d dined at the Pourcell brother’s Bangkok restaurant last year, when they put on a wine dinner around Chapoutier’s Languedoc wines. The meal was nicely balanced with the wines (they’d brought in Priscilla Teoh, they’re Singapore-born sommelier from Le Jardin des Sens in Montpellier). There the venue (D’Sens) is atop the Dusit Thani, with a fine view looking out over Lumpini Park at the lights of the city. (You can find the writeup under Eid and the Angels in post#10) We entered the restaurant, high ceilings, columns, and tall, tall windows, and I was immediately recognized (I’d been in twice earlier in the week pestering the poor people). They took us up a short flight of steps, and we were dining on the verandah, with a view of Pudong and the Bund (albeit a hazy one). Dining outside had its good point, and bad points. On the bad side, the weather was a little brisk, and Sens & Bund lacked the outdoor braziers I’d admired at New Heights. But, countering that, we had a very good waiter pretty much to ourselves, and he was quite attentive about keeping the champagne filled. And brunch did come with a free flow of Piper Heidseik Brut, a perfectly serviceable beverage for the variety of food on offer. (In case you’re wondering, Scud’s t-shirt de jour is “333 Half Evil”) I’m a fan of brunch. But brunch has to have certain things. There must be wine, preferably champagne, there must be foie gras in some form, and things must be fresh. My favourite brunch on this planet is probably the Four Seasons in Bangkok. But the people at Sens were giving this a good go, especially considering that they had not attempted a family-style brunch of this sort before. Having said that, they were doing a good job. They had a separate room set aside for the kids, with videos (as expected) but also with one of the kitchen staff there to help the kids with making chocolate eggs. We managed to force a bit of food into Serena, and then she was off to make new friends. A total lack of French skills would not stand in her way. And it was a very Gallic crowd here, which I find makes for a nice buzz on a Sunday afternoon. Talking with the maitre d’, it seemed much of the French community was here today. With the children sequestered on the side, everyone was cheerfully engrossed in their food and wine, the restaurant free of deal making and cell phone chatter. The stay-warms were just being filled up (and annotated) as we entered the main serving area, so we looked to tasting these out of order, as they’re always best when fresh. I tried the risotto, the lamb shank, the braised beef, and the seabass as an opening salvo. All were good, but, as feared, too filling if we intended to treat this as a marathon event (although Scud went back for several helpings on the braised beef and shank). The cold tables were appropriately loaded. There was some smoked ham which I’d been dearly missing, shaved parmesan, cured meats, and plenty of things that once swam (more below on that). For the seafood, there was a sushi and sashimi section, but this wasn’t quite there. The sushi, in particular, suffered mainly from the rice, I’m afraid. But they had a sea mullet terrine with herbs that was very smooth, and which I went back for myself. And the tataki of tuna was very much a repeat of the night before, and just as good (although my plating is nothing on what T8 had done….I did like their carpaccio of daikon). And they had a nice ceviche of scallop served on the shell that perked up the back of my teeth. And the crab “brioche” on a skewer that helped to assuage that feeling (along with some champagne, of course). There were some very charming or d’oeuvres, and I found the same gazpachos in test tubes that I remembered from the Bangkok dinner. Unfortunately, these had had enough time to separate, so they were almost impossible to extract. What little I could tease out was excellent – peas, mint, and basil in the green – but that just made it all the more frustrating. The tomato gazpacho I couldn’t get anything out of until I used a skewer later on. And then there was a spread of very good smoked salmon, some blinis, sour cream, and (in the foreground) a tub of caviar. There was also some terrine of foie gras about, and I found them pan frying foie gras back by the carvery. This was the zone I would be spending my time in. Salmon, caviar, and foie gras. With champagne to refresh one’s palate. Isn’t this the proper way to spend one’s day? (The first 2 kg tub of caviar disappeared in fairly short order, and it took them, alas, a period of time to bring the next batch out, this time pre-portioned upon the blinis) The dessert were….what would be the best word? Overwhelming, perhaps? But not in a bad way. It was somewhat like being in Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. After a short breather from caviar, foie gras, and meats, Scud shifted his attention to the sweets; which is more along his preferred manner to pass the afternoon. I must confess that even I took a slight detour in my feeding and indulged in a plate (or two) of calories. The little berry shooters were excellent with the champagne, and who can say no to chocolate? And the points on the meringue just looked too exquisite to be ignored. And, after that, I went back to the salmon, foie gras, and caviar….with more Brut. After what I’d written of the bathroom at D’Sens in Bangkok, I know I have to comment on the facilities here. Clean (obviously) and well appointed, with the set bowls and standpipes that have become so popular. But nothing particularly special. I think that Bangkok, where you have a view over the city as you take care of things, has to still come in first. As you come from the facilities you have rose-coloured view of the kitchen. At night it would work well with the rest of the lighting, as there were walls of red about in the dining area, but at lunch it did have a sort of “war zone” look to it. According to the brochures I found near the entry, they do regular hands-on cooking classes here, so it’s good to see that there’s ample room to work. I had to go back for some more dessert to finish upon. The crème brulee in particular looked too good to not eat, with its own crispy spoon to be devoured as part of the dish. And the fruit shooters I had already mentioned; raspberry and peach/tangerine gazpachos, but these were much more accessible. I took a small side-turn and tried a glass of the Grace Cabernet Syrah 2004. This wasn’t bad as an afternoon wine, but obviously the champagne was a better accompaniment. Still, it’s interesting to see how the Chinese are coming along in wine making as well as everything else. By about two thirty we were winding down. We (and the rest of the restaurant) had been pleasantly grazing for the last three hours, and we had that satisfied, bovine feel about ourselves that comes from an extended feed. For me, that is always the best tim to call for the cheque and return to the pavement. My overall feeling was, obviously, one of satisfaction. It had been worth my efforts to secure a booking for this. While there were some things that had not worked out (the unfortunate gazpacho) I could understand, as this was their first attempt at a major brunch. What works exceptionally well in a formal serving may not stand up to a buffet line. And Serena and her new found coterie of friends were more than satisfied with the attention paid to their needs. My only regret was that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to see what they could do in a formal settting, as our Shanghai time was coming to an end soon. Some reviews talk about the feel being “cold” in comparison to the other Bund restaurants. I did not find that to be the case (beyond the chill of dining outside). Obviously, with the Francophone family crowd that was here, things felt very comfortable for us, but this must be taken as exceptional circumstances, I suppose. Still, it’s a pretty room, and I found the service excellent. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, “so many meals, so little time”. Next: Do you need to understand Java to like MOCA?

The Man On The Flying Trapeze This was one of the cultural events that I had no choice about, and no escaping. Having said that, I ended up having a lot of fun. We’d had a number of choices on which of the acrobatic shows to see. Luckily, as we had to have enough time to get Scud some shut-eye, Yoonhi had made the best of choices. There was Era, a big choreographed over-the-top sort of thing that I’ve come to expect from China. “Tom Cruise watched this! So must you! L. Ron Hubbard wrote the script!” Then there were a bunch of traditional acrobat shows. These were playing in a number of locations around the city. Yoonhi was sensible. She asked our concierge where we would find the nearest one. We didn’t really want to hike back out to the Science and Technology centre area, or up North of town, or Lhasa, or any of these other places they seemed to plant these things. I threw in my two bits worth, “which one is the seediest?” The Nanshi Theatre Acrobatic Show. We found ourselves on the south part of the old city, down on Yingxun Lu. Our final approach was me up front with the taxi driver chanting “It’s here somewhere. It’s here somewhere. It’s here somewhere……” Where it was was in a fairly decrepit movie theatre. This was great. I have no idea if the troupe plays here every night, or if they just take over the joint from time to time. It still looked like the regular cinema was operating, with the ticket office shut off from the rest of us, and posters up on the wall for a selection of films we saw last January on airplanes. There were card tables with small lock-boxes for the cash and tickets, and another card table for the popcorn, and another for the gimcracky. The theatre was built the way all movie theatres used to be, before the advent of the Cineplex. A big balcony, several sections, and rickety, stained velour seats. And I could have a beer! Or four! The crowd was a mix of about 70/30 Asian/Western. It was definitely on the tourist map, however, as, while people like us were coming in in fours and eights, there were at least half a dozen groups that came in by the busload. The show kicked off, and pretty much followed the route one expects of these things. At least for the first part. They had young ladies with Herculean thighs doing all sorts of tumbling and gyrations, followed by several sections of spinning and balancing things. While spinning stuff in the air has a certain inherent satisfaction, I have trouble getting too excited for too long. The one redeeming moment came when two fellows in chefs’whites did a plate spinning scenario. These two, with appropriate Buster Keatonisms, managed three levels of spinning dishes, while wearing chefs’ hats. I think that it just reminded me a lot of Sanji from One Piece (and if you’re not a fan of Japanese pirate anime and manga, you should become one….Now!). Something I did enjoy with this troupe….they messed up a few times. Nothing big (although it must have hurt when that girl on roller skates hit the stage when the thing around her neck broke), and they all got up and kept on performing until they got it right, but the simple introduction of human frailty into the equation made the entire thing much more enjoyable for me. Too many of these things are just too, well….perfect. It’s like knowing that Deckard is going to fly away with Rachael at the end of Blade Runner (“He should’ve shot her while she slept”, say I. “It would’ve been a perfect ending”. “Be quiet,” says Yoonhi). Anyways, I digress. What this is leading up to is that most ancient and traditional of Chinese acrobatic arts. The Cage of Death Full of Motorcycles! Plus, Guys With Capes! They actually got six bikes into this thing. The first one was cool if you haven’t seen this sort of thing before (none of us spent formative years below the Mason Dixon line), but it was when they got to three guys in the cage, and they introduced the fourth, that the crowd started going wild. The old guy sitting behind us was on his feet applauding like an epileptic thalidomide victim, howling “Whoa! Whoa!”, and so were my kids...so was I. This is where I really appreciated the re-introduction of the fear of fatality, and the frisson of a crowd waiting to see something bad happen. It was a lot of fun. (and no one got hurt.) Heck, after the show I even bought the DVD. We carted the boy and the girl back to the hotel, and got some food into them (although they’d stocked up on caramel popcorn at the show). They had a pork and mushroom soup that was well-thickened, and took care of their immediate nutrition needs. And Scud also had some pork ribs that had been fried up. It was good, but he was obviously suffering from lowered enthusiasm levels. Yoonhi and I try not to let such dissipation affect us. Once the kids were duct-taped away, we were out and about for another look-see at what was on offer. We’d been told of Xin Tian Di, how it was the party spot of Shanghai, on the outskirts of the French Concession (where once we’d considered an apartment, many years ago). Now it was the place to be (or so we were told). The area, a conglomerate of clubs, cafes, restaurants, and stuff stores is built up from a collection of old tenement (it sounds better if you call them Shikumen houses) was hoping when we got there, the clock showing around 10 p.m. I was a little worried that the kitchens might be closing, but hoped that if any place was on the go, this would be. My list of restaurants to try included Ye Shanghai. But, as usual, I was woefully unprepared. I had no idea just where to locate it, so Yoonhi and I took our chances, wandering around past Starbucks, and Latin clubs, and placing playing music way too loud for my elderly ears. And then, with worried glances at my watch, I spotted a place that sounded familiar. T8. Okay, says I, it’s time to feed the wife. Otherwise I’m a dead man. I conferred with the hostess, confessed that I didn’t have a reservation, but we’d be happy to eat at the bar; where we were seated. We got off to a very bad start. Yoonhi had one shot of the beautiful open kitchen we were seated at, and then some suit came by and in a very brusque fashion told us “no photos”. I assumed from this that he didn’t want us taking any shots in the restaurant, rather than just having us abstain from showing pics of our kids around. I don’t mind a “no photo” rule, but I do kind of prefer that it’s not handled in such a…well…rough manner. “Please” is always nice. I felt quite repressed by this (I suspect you can tell, already) and Yoonhi asked one of the chefs if it was okay to shoot the food. His response was a much more friendly “sure, why not?”, and so we didn’t miss too much. Due to this, I didn’t shoot the amuse, which was a pretty little thing, with a nice flavour of citrus, strawberry, and perhaps diakon, with a sorbet texture and a cheerful lavender colour to it all. After the amuse we had a tataki of sesame crusted tuna with a carpaccio of diakon radish and “Beluga” caviar. We watched as they squeezed it into forma and then rolled it on the sesame, and then did some squeeze bottle action quickly over the daikon whilie they flash seared the fish. This was appealing in presentation, and the diakon carpaccio was surprisingly good, giving a nice background to the tuna. However, what they were billing as Beluga sure wasn’t like any Beluga I’d had. Small and a little crunchy. I suspect this is more of the “Mandarin caviar”. It isn’t bad by any means, but it wasn’t quite the right texture for this dish. I might’ve stuck with the salmon roe that they’d interspersed, as this gave little pops of saltiness which helped a lot. Oh, and as we were writing down what we were ordering, another suit came by and rather peremptorily told us that we didn’t have to write things down, he would give us a menu later. Sheesh! Being late, we just split the tataki and made do with that for a starter. I’d ordered us a bottle of Hawke’s Bay Sauvignon Blanc to keep us occupied (Sacred Hill White Cliff Vine…..that name’s as bad as a Japanese video game). For a main, Yoonhi ordered the tandoori veal cutlet, prawn in “aroma”, veal shank korma (there’s that double whammy of veal again), and banana kumquat chutney. This was very good. I like the spiced flavour of tandoori (there was a salmon tandoori in Bombay I still dream about), and, as I’ve mentioned, I’m a fool for a shank. The prawn I could’ve taken or left. Taken or left as I had ordered th Sichuan seared king prawns, octopus compote, garlic cream, and crab spring roll. This came with a wedge of jaundiced coconut rice on the side. In with this was some snow pea, shallot, and toasted almond. And I liked the plate, with that soft curve holding up the sauce dish while presenting its friends just a shade lower. Obviously, my primary reason for ordering this was the octopus compote, down on the right. This carried the soft background taste of octopus very well, and while I considered the prawns just there, the compot made it all worthwhile. Behind the bar, I was in love with the kitchen. Even if it wasn’t proper Beluga, it’s nice to see a chef with an open tub of fish eggs to work with. And they were running what appeared to be magnetic induction units for their woks. It also looked like there was some equipment there for sous vide work. The bread was also very good, much more like a muffin in texture and taste. I was in a mixed mood over the dinner. I liked what I saw in the kitchen, while I abhorred their front staff. The waiters, hostesses, and maitre d’ seemed much more concerned about the fact that they were “the front of the house” than they seemed to be about their customers. Or at least us customers. (I was to find out later that T8 made Conde Naste’s 50 Best or something like that…..mind you, so did Scirrocco in Bangkok, and I have yet to hear anything good about the waitstaff there). And then we decided to try a dessert. The reason we tried it was because the chef behind the counter suggested it. As I said, I liked the kitchen. (This was, I believe, Dang, who has an excellent reputation in the Shanghai community for his cooking classes). He had a white truffle ice cream with organic honey, bitter chocolate, and pannacotta tapioca. Oh, that was so good. The truffles beat down everything else with that wonderful earthy flavour. Sure, if you tell most people it was like throwing a handful of loam into vanilla, they’d stare at you like you’d escaped from somewhere, but you can imagine how this must’ve tasted. This is one of those dishes that I’ll be talking about for a long time. Obviously, we took our time with this. Unfortunately, the kitchen was closing, so the benefit of sitting at the kitchen bar was sort of lost by the time we finished licking the bowl. We hit the street after that, immediately found Ye Shanghai, and decided that we probably weren’t going to be managing another meal. We must be getting old. Xin Tian Di is a lot of fun. Clean, new, but with the character of the old Shanghai. I could have a lot of fun here if I’d had more rest. Instead we grabbed a cab for the crosstown trip back to our hotel. This rest was enough to reinvigorate me slightly, so I decided we could spare the time for a little wander. Most of the places advertised as bars were shuttered up, and looked like they’d been that way for quite some time, And then, I saw it, the Mini Bar. This was too good a name to pass up. It was right next to the Hotel Cheap & Clean (at least that’s what the sign says as I read it). The mini-bar fell solidly into the “nothing special” category, but it had it’s charm. The waitress behind the bar was effectively non-verbal, but the guy running things was garrulous beyond expectations. It was his bar, but he was filling in for the night as his bartender was off somewhere. For his part, he ran a Chinese restaurant somewhere, but didn’t seem to feel it was necessary for him to be there for it to run. He was a returned Chinese, coming back to make his fortune, or perhaps rather to lose it. We talked about ingredients, costtings, and why none of his bottles were open. The bar had been in place now for a few months, but it basically did all of its business in beer and Johnny Walker, the odd bit of vodka here and there. He had a bottle of XO just because you were expected to have a bottle of XO. And he had a selection of the glow in the darks (Parfait d’Amour, Crème de Menthe, etc) which he had no idea what he was supposed to do with. The mini-bar had two rooms. The front bar which we were propping up, and then it turned out there was another room inside, which we noticed when the sole occupant started screaming into his cell phone. I quite liked the place. But, Yoonhi dragged me away after a few Tsingtao’s (stubby bottles), and we stumbled back to the room for a deserved night’s rest. Next – The Poor Mouth

First answer: I get yelled at if I try to use it for anything else. Expanded answer: Yoonhi says that, as the sesame mortar is wooden, and as she doesn't dare soak it or clean heavily for fear of cracking, it's important not to introduce flavours that would overwhelm the sesame. She cleans it with a moist wipe. I know your next question. "Why is it important to use a wooden mortar for sesame?" I asked Yoonhi this...."Why is it important to use a wooden mortar for sesame?" She answered with "I don't know". That's not an answer I normally get. I find that quite heartening!

I tried to get Scud to do a Red Bull, but that was the proverbial snowball in hell. Coke just trickles off him like water from a duck. Nope, Scud was crashing and crashing bad. On the bright side, it afforded me the opportunity to take embarrassing pictures of him! Serena's cake was the "signature" cake of Jean-Georges, so it would be the same recipe. I was dumb....well, I was really busy before the trip, and didn't do the research I needed to on the menus and chefs in Shanghai. In the postmortem, I'm suprised at the places I did end up at, but I'll cover that in the autopsy in a few days. And as for Serena....anyone know a good convent? Cheers, Peter

whoops, double post

Lessee.....(and forgive my transliteration, I'm horrible at this) gochujang - the chili bean paste tenjang - bean paste gochugaru - the Korean chili powder sesame oil - lots soy sauce - lots sesame seeds salted shrimp (for kimchi) kim - (Japanese nori) garlic - buy a farm dried mushrooms (if you can't get fresh - just in case stuff) dried kosari - fiddle head ferns -the "happy lady" - this is an Asian mandolin that's got this smiling Japanese lady on the outside of the box. Sorry, we just call it the "happy lady" -a mortar just for your sesame seeds -another mortar for everything else -a cuisinart is useful -you should have enough knives around for a good slasher pic That's probably a start. Oh, beer and soju. Plenty of beer and soju.

As an observation from the photos we've seen here..... Have you noticed how everyone working with liquid nitrogen always has a big grin on their face?

Girls Just Want To Have Lunch The rest of the Museum of Technology was interesting enough. There was far more there than could be seen in just one day, and a lot of it was interactive enough that both kids were having fun. However, we had a problem. That problem was called Scud. As I’d mentioned earlier, Boy Wonder decided that a night-long jag of You Tube anime (the latest One Piece and Naruto) was a better option than sleep. “Nothing is a better option than sleep,” says Yoonhi. Anyways, we now found ourselves with a narcoleptic 170 lb sack of teenager on our hands. I could jump start him from time to time - he did wake up to witness me being mobbed by a group of students who all wanted pictures taken with me; “I figured if I stayed away and pretended I didn’t know you, I’d be safe” (this was the only time I was mobbed during the trip; things have changed) – but each time I had to shake him I could see the grogginess settling in. There was only one possible cure for this. Jean-George. (Okay, a nap might’ve worked better…..) We didn’t come for brunch but for lunch. The brunch actually appeared to be a reworking of the bento lunch they’d been pushing on the work days, but never mind. My interest, with a limited number of meals left, was to see what they could do here. The place oozed luxury. Luxury of a very solid, Francopheel (there, I’ve got a new word!), with leather couches in the dining area, dark blue curtains, and a slightly lighter level in the bar, and a very, very urbane feel to everything (except us). I found this very interesting. My last encounter with the good Jean-Georges Vongerichten was at Vong in Knightsbridge back in 1999. Then the feel was much more of dressed up Thai-Euro fusion. I came away from that with mixed feelings. Some of the items had a good feel and taste to them, but I am, inherently, cheap. Even when I’m spending other people’s money as I was at that time, I like to feel that what I’m getting is worth the cost. And, as I was, at that time, just a month back from a Thailand jaunt, I had trouble justifying the difference. It was a good meal, but I felt there were other things I could have done with that opportunity. But that was then, this was now. Fast forward eight years. The bento set (four courses served simultaneously) had looked to be very good value at 140 RMB. The three course meal, at 168 RMB wasn’t particularly painful and it gave us a reasonably wide choice of dishes to mix and match with. This was also a good opportunity to reinforce the vermin in how to behave in a proper restaurant. I should’ve known better. For drinks, Scud ordered a very gingery lime soda, which I had to tell him to slow down on. Some things are meant to be enjoyed, not inhaled. Serena we just fed water. For Yoonhi and I, we decided to try a bottle of the Grace chardonnay. Fongyee had recommended this, and I have faith in her judgement. The boy began with the king fish sashimi with a watermelon wasabi and daikon juice. Scud’s comment on the daikon juice was that the sauce was “radishy”. I tried it, and found it to be extremely pleasant, the juice having also taken up a lot of the kingfish and the watermelon wasabi. The fish was excellent (I’m fond of kingfish, so I’m biased) and the watermelon wasabi worked well enough. Yoonhi and I were set on the foie gras brule, served topped with pistachios and candied cherries. There was a very brittle layer atop the terrine from the brule, topping the foie, -giving this a wonderful combination of textures - and the whole thing sat upon a tarte sour cherry gelee base. The girl was enjoying her soup. Served just like at home. It’s a beautiful bowl, and the soup is packed with a good assortment of fungi. The broth was quite delicate, and the overall effect was, as Serena said, “good”. I need also to say, after having bad-mouthed the bakers of Shanghai (which would be a really cool name for a band) that the bread was very good. And, to be fair, the bread in all the high end places was very good. Maybe Jack (at I Love Shanghai) and we have not been taking our baked goods in the best of places. The bread here was soft, yielding, well crusted, and just the way I like my family – full of nuts. At this point Yoonhi was coming to the conclusion that she could be very happy in Shanghai. The emotional scarring of 1994 was scabbed, peeled off, and healed over. She does caution this with “as an expat wife!” I think there’s an inherent concept there that I would have to actually do work…….hmmm…… We polished off the starters in relatively good form, and then started on the second courses. Both children had the salmon. Both children complained. It’s not that anything was wrong in the presentation or preparation. This was a slow baked slamoned, steamed with mushrooms nand served with a sake ginger dressing that came across just about perfect. But the children have developed such a chauvinistic attitude about BC wild caught Spring salmon, that the taste of what felt like farm raised just raised their shackles (I have no idea, of course, where they develop such prejudices….ahem….) Yoonhi had the veal tenderloin and shank. This came with a potato cannelloni (with liquid parmesan) resting atop the shank. This is a well thought through dish, offering the best parts of the veal, with just enough starch on the side to make you enjoy both. The shank in particular worked well; threads of meat in that unctuous brown sauce, with just a slight taste of chili in the background. I had settled on the caramelized beef tenderloin. It must appear a particularly pedestrian choice, but Yoonhi had already beaten me to the veal. Also, it had been awhile since I had enjoyed a nice piece of dead cow. This was appropriately red and moist, and a flavour I'd almost forgotten after the last few weeks. I also freely admit that I chose this as much for the smoked mashed potatoes as I did for the beef. These potatoes were creamy, smooth, and, of the greatest importance, smoky. You could taste the smoke in them, and I lingered over every bite of this. Alongside of this was Jean-Georges’ 11 flavour condiment that confused me for a moment, and then I realized it was his version of Heinz 57. During all of this, we took in the décor. As I’ve said. Dark. Solid. Lots of black and blue, and gold and bronze. Okay, this might be considered somewhat brazen (sorry) but even in the lunchtime sun it didn’t look all that bad. The bathroom was an experience. The ladies of the table came back raving. They both got lost. Luckily, they found another woman adrift, and this constituted a critical mass that the staff had to do something about; so they were all shown where the facilities are. But both talked about how luxurious it was. Now, bear in mind that we’ve been traveling about China for a couple of weeks at this point, so you may take this with a grain of salt (or a handful of sand). It took a bit of work, but we were able to get them to top up the water glasses as we surveyed the devastation of the second course. Refreshed, we tackled dessert. Serena wanted the Jean-Georges’ chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. Scud had decided upon the citrus sorbet, lemon curd, pistachios, and shortbread, with a bit of mint. Yoonhi and I had both chosen the basil meringue with red fruit sorbet, black pepper, and litchi (lychee). A very upstanding dessert. Lots of good flavour through the meringue, with the red fruit sorbet packed into the tube. The litchi made for a very good side flavour, although I must admit I found the presentation somewhat….well….contraceptal. Scud was entranced by his dessert. We could hardly get his attention, he was so enraptured. (Isn’t it fun and being an adult who can pick on his children like this?) I think I said something earlier about trying to teach the children how to behave in good restaurants? Serena had really ordered her dessert just to get the ice cream, the cake was an innocent bystander. But once she realized that this was a lava cake, and that she could bury whole villages of innocent people underneath, she was much happier. Overall? I enjoyed the lunch. But I do find that many of the set lunch menus (anywhere) are excellent value for what you get. And the Bund isn’t very snobbish about their lunch crowd. Whether you’re dressed to the nines, or in a selection of black t-shirts like us, they’re fairly open to things. The dishes were well executed, and the atmosphere very pleasant. I can't comment upon it for dinner, with the sun down. One note, the view is not what you come here for. It's very much an inward looking establishment, without the emphasis on views we'd seen elsewhere. For what we had, and the price we paid (under 1000 RMB), I was quite content. It wasn’t necessarily kid friendly, but they didn’t ask Scud to stop snoring or anything. Next: Xin City

XiaoLing, The loading and unloading lack some of the precision of Disney, unfortunately. It was around a 30 minute wait behind some ill-mannered Mongol children. However, time wasn't wasted as we used this as an opportunity to prop Scud against a wall and let him sleep. Cheers, Peter

Day 20 – Fantastic Voyage Serena was her old self again. Happy, talkative, and hungry. I took her and Stupid Boy downstairs for a particularly vile breakfast of lukewarm sautéed things. Stupid Boy had earned his current nom de guerre from deciding he wasn’t sleepy, and watching YouTube animes all night. We didn’t have a lot of sympathy. This morning’s outing was the Shanghai Science and Technology Museum. These are usually fun for the kids and I, and they’ve got enough “education” to them that Yoonhi finds them worthwhile. Getting there took us through the tunnel under the Huang Po, and through the wide, modern boulevards of Pudong. Big streets. Big buildings. It’s like a race of giants had built the place on a scale beyond the merely pedestrian. I say that as there was no way in hell we were going to be able to walk around out here. The museum was, as expected, very modern. Lots of steel and glass, but still with some odd little bazaar stuck around the edge with touts trying to get us to go shopping. We ignored them, and went inside and bought our tickets. There were dozens of buses parked outside, but no tourists. This was the weekend outing for the schools, and the place was packed with youngsters in track suits. School kids have to have track suits. I pointed out the Visiting Notice to the kids. In particular, ”do not run, romp or shout”. I can’t remember the last time I saw anyone romp. I asked Scud about romping and he gave me a look and then leaned against the wall with his head. Also, don’t bring in ”any pet harmful to visitors”. I suggested to Yoonhi that this meant we should leave Scud out on the staircase to get some sleep, but she didn’t agree. Parts of the museum looked really familiar, and I have a feeling that they shot parts of UltraViolet in here. Things just have that “I’ve seen them somewhere before” feel to them (“That was a really, really bad movie,” says the somnolent film critic Scud. “The trailer'sbetter than the movie.”) We did the geology section, the geophysics, and some of the interesting bits of the hydrodynamics exhibit, but we really had only one reason to be here. We were here for the Journey of Food. The book had mentioned this in passing, and it just sounded like way too much fun to pass up. They take you – start to flush – through the human digestive track. Let’s recap our General Knowledge on the Digestive System The digestive system is comprised of the digestive tract and digestive glands. The digestive tract consists of mouth, pharynx, esophagus, stomach, small intestine, large intestine, and anus. The digestive glands include salivary gland, liver and pancreas, each secreting different digestive juices and flowing into the digestive tract. Physical action and chemical action cooperate in order to digest the food, turning it into nutrition and waste. Then, the human body can absorb nutrition, get rid of the waste and obtain essential materials and energy for vital movement. I felt edified, and ready for some vital movement. But there’s nothing like the prospect of getting up close and personal with intestinal flora to really cheer you up. As we got closer, we could see the anthropomorphic antics of the set design, carrots smiling at us and moving their eyes about. It was all kind of unsettling. Plus, a prominent sign advised us that the ride had passed its safety test. I might’ve been happier about this if the sign didn’t look quite so permanent. We lucked out. We got to ride in the watermelon. There were a few issues to work out with the watermelon, like, how were we going to fit all four of us in it, but with some squeezing and gasping, I made it in alongside Serena. Then they gave us the immersion goggles, the same type we use in the visionariums for doing walk-throughs on stuff. What followed was…..odd. First, it’s mastication. We and our rind roll down the tracks, through the giant face and past the giant teeth and then you’re inside, and the teeth are doing that up and down thing while you spin in circles. Then we get yelled at by an uvula. This isn’t something I’m used to. It’s kind of neat, they’re projecting the visualizations onto prop sets on the ride. This one was small and grapelike, (uvula is latin for “little grape”). I suppose it was explaining how it’s role was in part to keep food from going into the nasal cavity. According to Wikipedia “when this process fails, the result is called nasal regurgitation. Serena knows it as Dad getting Scud to blow milk out his nose. It sort of gives you the feeling of a Disney Haunted House sort of ride set to an H. R. Giger Aliens set. After this it was one happy projection after another yacking away at us in Putonghua. We had no idea what was being said, but Yoonhi could sort of map things out for us. After the physical breakdown in the mouth and our good buddy the uvula, they took us down the pharynx, and then through the gauntlet of the esophagus, from which we’re pushed into the chemical breakdown stage in the stomach. After that happy moment we were moved onwards to the small intestine where the nutrients are passed out to the bloodstream, and the rest of us (you know what we are) keep going. Which brings us to the large intestine, or, as the Greeks call it, the colon. At this point there’s some absorption of vitamins by day-glo coloured howling creatures yelling at us in Mandarin, and absorption of water. We also get a wide selection of bacterial flora, some of whom said ni hao to us. But the real highlight had to be the gas (flatus) production. Lots of little bubbles projected, and then they had a real bubble machine that got lots of laughs out of Serena, until we told her what they were. Then there was a fine misting of us, and a view that I really could’ve done without, after which we and our watermelon were “flushed with victory”. It sort of takes the romance out of a three star dinner. (A particularly 3rd Rock moment) Next: Vong Again (note - editted to fix the url link for UltraViolet, which kept on getting rejected.....it must be a case of good taste)

Paco Rancero (from the Casino de Madrid) was doing some demos with this last year at the WGS in Singapore. He did up an "air" of olive oil, and then banged this into the LN. You took this in your mouth in one gulp, and the effect was a "Dragon Oil" with clouds of olive oil flavoured vapour blowing out of your nose. Here's part of the post: Dragon oil. First he works up the air. “Foam and air are not the same”. This is an emulsion of a vinaigrette worked up with balsamic soy lecithin mixed with the oil to give a very foamy result. I have got to get some liquid nitrogen for the kitchen. Paco and Fernando manhandle a big canister into the work zone, and then crack it open with a screw driver. Paco is grinning over the liquid nitrogen now, like an old friend has just shown up for a drink. “At –196 C you should respect this. Don’t fear, but respect.” However, we next hear “normally when you work with nitrogen you must wear gloves. Me, no.” And then it goes into a chilled metal bowl, tendrils of vapour creeping over the countertop like Morticia Adams’ skirt trails. It’s a fantastic table for a Halloween. The “air” goes into the cloud, and comes out looking for all the world like a marshmellow. Our victim from the audience, cautioned to take it all in one go, can’t do it, and opens her mouth. Everything is vapour everywhere. The second volunteer does better, and the effect is one of a dragon blowing smoke down from its nose. The entire thing evaporates as soon as it hits the inside of your mouth, leaving a taste of olive oil, but exiting so quickly through your nose that you’re left amazed. Cool. I gotta get me some nitrogen. I think the F1 fans in Bahrain might be able to help me out with this.

In Shanghai, Paul Pairet did an excellent foie gras Opera "cake" at Jade On 36. the passion-choco foie gras opera, a recreation of the classic opera cake, pairing chocolate and foie gras together, with passion fruit and port wine jelly, and a touch of peanut. There seemed to be a bit of truffle there, too, on top of the chocolate with the salt crystals. I had no complaints whatsoever.

I went through the site. I now have an irrational desire to buy a truck and shave my head.

I was back in Cairo in 2004/2005 on business, having left in 1990. I tried the restaurant on top of the Hyatt, and was underwhelmed. At least the windows were clean so the view was good. Talking with some of my friends that had moved back there, the Marriott still seemed to have the best F&B. I tried to get our contractors to order in some felafel for lunch for old times' sakes while we were working through things, and they flat out refused. This was in Heliopolis. They said the last five times they did it, the whole office was out sick. Estoril? Is that the one where you come off of Tahrir with the Museum on your left, go up about two blocks, and there's an alleyway to your right with a sign hanging out? Cats and rats walking in the ceiling rafters? They always had really good pigeon. I'd go back there! The food was good, and the place was a lot of fun. For something different, why not try Okamoto's. In 2005 it was still there, tucked away in Mohandessin. No sushi or sashimi (not that I'd trust it in Cairo), just good home kitchen style cooking. Their tonkatsu is excellent, and they had some tripe stews that I haven't seen elsewhere. Be careful of the Hep C thing, and health in general. Egypt still has the reputation of being the place most likely to get violently sick. But you've lived there before, so you should still have some immunity. The nice thing about having lived in Cairo is that no other country's bacteria is going to have much of a chance against what you've already got in you.

Ah, Robert Mitchum in Farewell My Lovely... A good finish to the evening

In another thread (post 221) (you'll need to go down to the last third of the post) I've got a write-up on I Love Shanghai's Absinthe Annihilation night. Eight different cocktails, plus shots of white or green. They were using the French brand Versinthe, which, according to the sites, has a reasonable level of thujone. I must admit, after about five or six or...I forget....different drinks, I didn't find myself getting too loopy. Nor did I really have any problems getting up on the morning. But this may be the result of too much everclear in my younger days. A good bar, and a comfortable alternative to the high-end bars that make up much of the Bund. Cheers, Peter

Day 19 – The Beer Neccessities Responsible. That’s me. I was entrusted with the care and feeding of our young son while Yoonhi looked after our Lady of the Technicolour Yawn. So, I took him to a beer hall. We weren’t actually planning on eating here, I was just checking the place out, and getting a feel for their brews. The Shanghai Bund Brewage Co., Ltd - that’s not the easiest name to wrap around - has two beers – a light and (you guessed it) a dark. Both brewed on the Teutonic model. As the boy was with me, I only ordered the dark, hoping for some interesting flavours. I opened up the menu they’d offered me first. It seemed odd to be in a brauhaus and have a menu for food before beer, but it’s their establishment. I was pleasantly surprised, upon inspection, to find the list composed almost entirely of Shanghai specialties. I’d been expecting the usual pork knuckles and bratwurst. This was good and bad. It was good in that I liked what I saw (Bullfrogs and oiled pig’s stomach in particular) but it did scotch my plan to use this as a fallback for feeding the kids. Our plan wasn’t to eat here, however. This was just a place for a drink. Scud enjoyed his coconut milk while I tried the dark. The head was good. Solid, crisp, an upstanding head. But I found the dark too sweet, and syrupy in texture. It just wasn’t going to work out. Still, I wasn’t about to not drink it, so I took the time to read one of the local rags. The one I chose was primarily concerned with the last holiday – Tomb Sweeping Day. In general, the top three selling items for tomb sweeping day this year were paper money, paper clothes, and paper three story houses. However, the Lingquan Funeral Store on Shiquan lu had had a run on paper feasts (which is always good to see), paper BMW’s (they didn’t say whether this was on the 5 or 7 series), paper Prada handbags, and……….paper Viagra pills. Yes, the dead shall rise. Scud threw a peanut at me for that one. The beer done, we went for dinner. We were going back to 3 On The Bund. We’d decided on New Heights. Wuthering Heights Like M, New Heights had adopted an open floor plan to take advantage of the views. They run their wine collection up the middle, but keep it to a waist high cabinet so that you can see across to the kitchen that’s viewable to the right of the restaurant. They had a large verandah, and it was well provided with outdoor braziers to keep the chill away, so we ate outside and watched the business going on through the windows. I had a Kingston Estate Chardonnay and Scud decided to try the Strongbow cider. The Chardonnay lacked the crispness I was looking for, but I drank it anyways. Scud went for the smoked salmon with caviar salad and Greek yogurt. Nothing wrong with this, and Scud enjoyed it, but I can’t say that it was particularly memorable. For my part I had a plate consisting of seared tuna, duck spring roll, deep fried shrimp with avocado, and a foie gras terrine on a fig puree. The tuna didn’t do much for me, and the duck was a little lost in all the other stuff, but shrimp and avocado always partner well, and how can you go wrong with foie gras and figs? Scud stayed conventional with his main, ordering the cornfed chicken breast with sautéed spinach, artichokes, crispy bacon, and a puree of carrots and asparagus. I have a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t care at all for the chicken, his primary interest was the bacon. I’d ordered the Duck Three Ways, wich is roasted breast, a duck leg confit, and a foie gras terrine with potato tortillas and fig compote. I know, there’s a lot of overlap there with the starter, but I like duck. A this point I’d moved onto a Catena Malbec from Argentina, which made a much better impression. Watching the floor being run, I wasn’t as impressed as I’d been with M. No identifiable expats (I’ll probably get ripped apart for making assumptions, but…), and the senior staff were doing the typical – watching things not get done rather than stepping in and doing it. The few questions I tried to raise about the place got that look of “I’m busy here”, and so I didn’t bother digging too much. What I did find out was that the chef’s from Brisbane, and that they’ll typically do 400 covers in a night (but not this evening). Scud was drawn to the dessert list like a Komodo dragon to a staked out baby lamb. The chocolat fondant with rosemary ice cream drew his basilisk attention, or at least the words “chocolat” and “ice cream” did (in Italy a couple of years ago Scud would stake out the ice cream vendors and wait for them to open). Not a bad dessert. The rosemary ice cream was a nice touch, and the smell carried over the chocolate background. Like Scud, I’m easily fascinated, and I’d picked up on the chocolate martini that they had on the menu. This came thick, oily, and run through with the flavour of chocolate. I was quite happy now. This led to one of those happy father-son moments where you pass important information onto your offspring, like “what makes for a really good martini”. We didn’t linger much over our dessert. Texting back and forth with Yoonhi, it seemed Serena was getting better, and Yoonhi was getting cabin fever. Plus, while there was nothing wrong with the meal, there was also nothing particularly great about it, either. And the service, while not rude, lacked the approachability that I’d grown used to on this trip. We did a little shooting down the Bund, drifting with the crowd. There were a lot of people out there, and a selection of stands were doing a trade in sausages, crushed coconuts, and soft drinks. But the real winner is the Bund, that and Pudong, it’s sometimes a toss-up between the two. The Bund, up close and personal at night, with the lights showing all the highlights can hold me like a deer in the headlights. And Pudong, was moving beyond the Jetsons and into Blade Runner territory, with huge advertising video boards floating by on the river. All we needed we some off-key Japanese kabuki songs, Harrison Ford, and we’d be there. Soon enough I was back at the hotel, and trading dining partners. Serena had stopped her hourly geysering and was keeping the last bit of food down, so we were feeling better about things. Most important, she was still laughing. We checked the charges on the phones, and left her in Scud’s care. First stop for Yoonhi and I was the Shanghai Bund Brewage Co., Ltd. (Sheesh, I hate writing that out). I figured Yoonhi would be happy with the local menu. I’d told her about what a nice change it was to have these sorts of things with beer. So, when she picks up the menu, she gets the Western one. With pork knuckles and bratwurst. Still, the Anglo menu also included Fried Octopus With New Year’s Cake; American Style Chicken Talon; and Fried Fish Gluten. Yoonhi felt like a clay pot and more tofu, so she ordered the shrimp, sea cucumber, sliced cuttlefish and tofu in a clay pot. The tofu was really good. A thin crisp skin just managing to hold in the soft tofu interior. It was like a mock scallop, and complemented the seafood very well. I used this as an opportunity to try their lager. This was better than the dark, and easy enough to drink. Not a great head, however, and the bubbles didn’t last long. Still, this is a pleasant change from the everyday taste I was getting used to on this trip. The pub maintains a very low level of ambient lighting, with lowered spots on each table, giving that “islands of light” look that can be so cool. Next to us was a tableaux of five Han, everybody with cigs, tendrils of smoke wrapping up around the lights and drifting into the dark while they plow through the food and beer and talk and talk. While Yoonhi ate, I grabbed some more of the nightlife mags they had. There was something I was looking for. I found it. I <heart> Shanghai was doing something I needed to be a part of. I checked my maps, then hurried Yoonhi through her meal. Absinthe of Malice Just down the Huang Po, past the Yanan flyover an nestled under the riverside, we found I <coronary> Shanghai. We’d been looking for it on the Bund side, and Yoonhi’s eyes picked out the red in the sign across the street. Inside, it was appropriately dark, and just getting set up. It was only around ten, so there wasn’t much of a crowd, which gave us time to look things over. There was a small dance floor, some couches for chilling, and a pool table buried in the back. There were a couple of local waitresses, but Jack behind the bar was from the MidWest. He hadn’t been in town for very long, and was already looking at this next move. He was working his way around the world as a bartender. Not a bad life. He’d already spent some time in Paris, and we got talking about the sorry state of baked goods in Shanghai. His apartment was next to Paris Baguette, and it was not a place where you wanted to buy a baguette. The reason we were here was their Absinthe Annihilation. Specials on wormwood all night long! We started of with a a Versinthe Martini for me, and a Versinthe Bundside for Yoonhi. The Versinthe Martini was absinthe green, vermouth, and an olive that had been soaked in absinthe. This was wicked and woke me right up. Yoonhi’s was absinthe white, Jack Daniels, Gordon’s gin, Peach vodka, Red Bull, and cranberry juice to sweeten it. This was a big mistake. It’s not that it was bad (although Yoonhi did decide she didn’t like the taste of absinthe), it was the Red Bull. We hadn’t noticed that in the mix. Yoonhi is one of those people who can’t touch coffee after 11 a.m., and a hint of Red Bull would have her off the walls for the rest of the night. We swapped drinks, and that took care of our immediate crisis. The last time I’d had absinthe was at Biminis in Vancouver. That was a few years ago. They’d just started getting it in, and they were doing the whole heroin-chic thing at the bar with the slotted spoon and the burning sugar. I seem to recall that was the night my friend lost his cell phone somewhere. But, anyways, I could take care of Yoonhi’s Bundside for her. I wasn’t having any problem with the anis flavour, and the bitter side that must be the thujone. The bar now had about six people, and most seemed either expats or long-stayers. Generally Americans and Canadians, and we got to exchanging pleasantries. It was around now that we gravitated to the bar and got into the baguette bashing with Jack. I noticed, on the board behind Jack, that there was a record of the number of shots by nation. I could appreciate that the Americans would be the front-runners, just based upon the 10:1 ratio against Canadians (they were around 32). And the Brits were a close second, in the high 20’s (again, there’s that population ratio thing). But I was amazed to see that, while Canada was number 3, we were tied. And we were tied with the North Koreans. This was getting to be an interesting bar. I started hallucinating about Kim Jong Il getting into a green slammer competition with me (just joking; no hallucinations, I’m afraid). I wasn’t going to let this stand, and did my part for the Great White North. Ignore the tequila lable on the glass (I did). Mind you, they had a good selection of tequilas up there on the bar, with a couple of what I’d classify as sipping tequilas. We were drinking “green” and “white” absinthe from Versinthe, a French company. I had a lot of details on Versinthe that I pulled from the net while I was in China, but they were on the laptop, I’m afraid (see post #202 for Sasuke’s sorry demise). Anyways, it had a reasonably good reputation, and a reputable level of thujone. Having taken Canada safely back into an undisputed third place, I turned back to the menu. The Versinthe Margarita looked fun. Absinthe green, Cuervo Gold tequila, Triple Sec, and lime juice. If that doesn’t get me in a deep conversation with Kim Il Sung’s kid, I didn’t know what would. And it just seemed right to have another shot for Canada. For the record, here are the other cocktails they were doing as part of Absinthe Annihilation: Versinthe Sour - Absinthe Green - Blue Curacao - Orange juice - Lime Juice - And everything blended Versinthe Knockout - Absinthe white - Smirnoff vodka - Red Bull Button Hook (shot) - Absinthe white - Napoleon Brandy - Peach vodka - Crème de Cacao white Versinthe Traffic Light - Absinthe white - Orange juice - Cranberry juice Bloody Brain (shot) - Absinthe white - Amaretto - Bailey’s Cream Liqueur - Grenadine I really liked the sound of the Bloody Brain, but Yoonhi fished me out of the bar at that point. It was after midnight, the bar was getting up to around half full, and I was still vertical. She figured this would be a good time to find a cab. We made it about a 100 meters or so down the street to the pilot house, and found that the old building was working as a bar. This was too good to let pass. The ground floor was pretty much empty….no, it was empty. But once you got up the battleship staircase to the second floor….it was pretty much empty. There was one other table on the go, and a staff of around four behind the solid wood bar. It’s a pity, too, as this is a beautiful bar. Comfortable solid wooden chairs, lots of wood about, and a very well stocked bar. This place felt very much taken out of the end of the 19th and start of the 20th centuries. Brass, wood, and old bits of the Huang Po navigation days about. Yoonhi had a glass of Moet, and I went for a Dalwhinnie, just because they had it. I like Dalwhinnie, it’s a very mild single malt, and easy on your throat. They served properly; the malt neat, a glass of ice with tongs on the side. From the second floor you can go upstairs to the third floor roof. Parasols and such weren’t much use at this time of the night, but I could see how this place would do a good daytime trade. This was a good place to finish. The lights were off on the Bund, and they were quickly fading from my eyes. Next: The Ultimate Foodie Amusement Park Ride

Crab roe? I'd like to say with authority that that was what they were, but I've checked my notes, plumbed my memory, and I can't get a definitive answer. They had a wet interior, but I was finding that in a lot of Shanghai dumplings. I do know from reading, since eating there, that Nan Xiang is famous for their crab roe dumplings, but we were only on the second floor. What I was reading was that there's a third floor where you get the crab roe. However, when we came up the stairs, that was the end of the staircase, so maybe we were on the top floor? If so, then those would be crab roe. I asked Scud. "Dumplings," says the boy. He's a treasure, he is.

Day 19 – Grandma’s China DING! DONG!…….KNOCK!….KNOCK!….KNOCK! Rising from sleep, I believe I said something particularly witty, like “awrfffsmadda?” And then I fell out of bed. I peeked around the edge of the door. It was the boy. “Serena threw up.” These are the moments when a parent, finding oneself in a strange land without a support network, shows their greatest concern. “She didn’t get it all over the place, did she?” “No. I cleaned it up.” “Good man. Wake me up later.” Unfortunately, by this time, Yoonhi was up and strategically poised to whack me upside the back of my head. I won’t go into the gruesome details, but it was apparent that Serena wouldn’t be touring today. She was, however, in a pretty good mood (except for the heaving parts), and able to laugh and joke, so it wasn’t too bad. We had a workable plan. Scud and I would go to see Yuyuan – The Garden of Leisurely Repose - in the Old Town. Yoonhi had done this when we were here before, so she didn’t feel that she’d be missing out on too much. She could stay back and watch the girl do impersonations of the Trevi Fountain. A short taxi ride and the boy and I were on the outskirts of the old town. We made it about….oh…..ten feet, and then we stopped to look at some video games. “This’d be a nice present for Serena, Dad.” “What? Dead Rising?” “Well, it’s the kind of thing she likes.....I think. It's got a story.....and zombies....and gardening tools...” We settled on a couple of games for her, paid for our loot, and started to move on. At that point we were latched onto by somebody who said we “had to come to her shop. Just looking.” Scud and I didn’t have an awful lot on our calendar for this morning, so we figured we could afford to look. What followed was very surreal. First, we entered an empty multi-storied building that looked like it might’ve wanted to be a mall at some point, and then gave up. The elevator looked like something from a slasher pic, and there wasn’t a body (living) to be seen. We got to their “shop”, and they had to phone someone to bring a key to open the padlock and lift the metal shutters. Inside we saw (once the lights were on) a sad collection of knock-off shoes and bags. Then three people stood expectantly waiting for us to buy everything. “I don’t really need any of this.” “You buy, yes?” “We buy, no.” It took us about five minutes to extricate ourselves from this. Scud was certain we were going to get mugged or something, and kept edging to the exit. Once out they kept following us. “You come back, look more?” Why, oh why would I come back? I don’t wear a lot of stilettos, and I don’t need a Prada handbag. We shook them on the final approach to the Yu Yuan Gardens. It just become to crowded for them to follow us any further. Real crowded. Pleasantly enough, one of the first things we found was a restaurant I was looking for - Nan Xiang. As I’ve said – Rule #1: Look for the swarm. This place had a mob of people snaking away from the take away window. I’ve learned my lesson, and went inside where it costs more, but you get to sit down. There was a pretty tough looking assembly line working inside, but at least they had more elbow room than the people at Yang’s the day before. They were in the same mode, though. Cut, stuff, wrap, pinch, and get it in the steamer. We went upstairs, in hope of a view. This was a forlorn hope, as the place was under restoration, and the outside was a mess of scaffolding and safety curtains. Still, it was a nice enough dining room, the waitress spoke a little English, and the Suntory beer was cold. Not much of a head or anything in particular to recommend it, but it was cold. It seemed that I’d ordered some sort of dumpling dinner. To that, through a series of rather inarticulate grunts and gestures, I’d added on a couple of more dishes of dumplings. What I took for a spring roll (lower left) was glutinous rice wrapped up in a crispy outside. The little sticky ones on the plate above that to the left had a very sweet, crystalline stuffing, and were much more of a dessert for me. The other steamed baskets were good enough, but not really memorable. The “soup” was kind of neat. It was, as it said, a soup served inside a large dumpling. This could be one of the most evil things to approach unsuspecting. The fluid inside was running at a temperature pretty close to that of the surface of the sun, and if you were stupid enough to take a direct swig from that straw, you were going to be in pain. Scud was just that stupid. There was also a trio of white, soft looking ones that gave up a pillowy yellow, sweet interior when I tried them. And there was a plate of fried, very doughy dumplings that were stuffed with shitakes. Scud and I did a good enough job of putting this away, and I was beginning to feel a little more human (although sleep deprived). It was now about noon, so we figured this could be a good time to do the gardens while the tourist buses were busy gorging. We figured wrong. There were throngs so deep that we didn’t even bother trying to work across the bridgeworks to the main entrance. Myself, I blame the goldfish. It was obvious that they were feeding the humans and causing a group of them to congregate in this one spot. We went instead to the exit, and gained entrance there. This got us past the worst of things. Inside it was quite pretty. Of course, “quite pretty” wears on you after an hour or so, but still, it was kind of fun picking out the various scenes that make up the traditional Willow Pattern of China. I remember one of those sets being the “good china” in our house growing up. The Yu Gardens are one of the few “old things” (“culture!” shouts Yoonhi) to be seen in Shanghai, so almost every tourist bus has to funnel into this place. Going at it in reverse at least allowed us to dodge the organized tours for part of our time. But by the end we were battling against a constant stream of people. This is, after all, one of the few cultural sites to take in. With enough of that, we went back out, poked about the streets, and looked at a few stores selling cooking wares. But nothing really caught my eye. We made it out to the street, and started walking towards the People’s Park, as Yoonhi had called and she wanted us to get tickets for the acrobats while we were out. It was a slightly longer walk than expected, but it wasn’t that bad. The sun had come out, and the temperature was up. All of the sidestreets were thrown open with everyone’s laundry out drying. When we arrived at the park, we realized we had no idea whatsoever as to where we were supposed to buy our tickets. We worked our way through, from one end to the other, and then did what any self-respecting males would do. We gave up and went home. At home we found Serena asleep and Yoonhi starving. I quickly put Scud on guard duty, and dragged Yoonhi downstairs to feed her. It was Pacican again. Yoonhi wasn’t up for street dining, and I also didn’t want to waste time looking for a place for her. We had the tofu in a clay pot; fried tofu with vegetables and mushrooms in a brown sauce. Good, slimy, and thickened. And we had the spicey beef strips in a bamboo basket. This wasn’t what we were expecting (I should learn not to be so expectant). I figured; “bamboo basket” – they’ll deep fry strips of bamboo in a lattice work around the meat. Nope, it was a wooden bamboo basket, with the meat arriving wrapped in tin foil, to be opened at the table. This was really quite good. Very nice, mild peppers, and soft peanuts that gave a good counter texture to very, very tender beef. This brought Yoonhi back from the edge, and she was began to speak coherently. We considered our options for the evening. She didn’t feel comfortable just yet with leaving Serena, so I took the boy out for dinner. Next: Beer Fest

Chufi, I love your fridge! I was in Leiden last year visiting friends for during the Rembrandt celebrations. It was the most fun I've ever seen in the Netherlands, with the canals of Leiden jammed with people eating and drinking...... And rhubarb! When is the seasonal herring run? Two great blogs in a row. This is great! Cheers, Peter