Food, mk.2

Yes, another food post. I thought about fitting it in the one below (which you ought to read before this one if you haven't already), but that would have set a new record, so here it is.

Shushu is a food guru. I mean it. The food I've eaten here has blown me away. Totally different from any Chinese food I've ever had in the states. What I've learned is that the Chinese food we imagine in the little cardboard fold-up box is generally Shanghainese cuisine: lots of rice, lots of sweet meats. Beijing cuisine has more bread, more noodles, and tons of vegetables. I told him in broken Chinese the first night that I wanted him to teach me how to cook Chinese food. And he's gladly obliged. Here's the short list of works so far, and a picture to go with:

Liangcai: It's all sorts of squash, carrots and cucumbers thinly sliced, briefly blanched in oil and water and then put in a bowl with a sugar and vinegar dressing. It's topped by these really spicy peanuts the likes of which I have never tasted.

Chao Cai Hua: Chao means to fry. And Cai Hua is cauliflower. Put cauliflower in a wok with pork, oil, salt, ginger, and small red onion, and you're ready to go.

Meatball Soup: Ok. That's not the Chinese name. But it's still super tasty. You beat the crap out of some pork, and stir it with chopsticks while adding water until it forms a meat goo. Bear with me. Add chopped scallions, salt, and garlic to the goo and let sit. Meanwhile, put water on the boil and add salt and quite a bit of chopped cilantro. Once it's to a rolling boil, take spoonfuls of the pork goo and plop them into the boiling water. If you do it right, they form perfect little meat spheres in the water, which then becomes your soup. This dish has a really light, fresh flavor (due to the cilantro) which cuts the greasiness of the pork really well. This is a favorite.

Qie zi: Translates to eggplant. You have not eaten eggplant until you've had it in Chinese food. Seriously, fried in a wok with potatoes and onions, it's a nice, hearty (albeit somewhat greasy) part of the meal.

Bean soup: This was a strange one, but it's grown on me. In the morning, shushu takes all sorts of little beans, washes them, and puts them in a covered pot. They soften for the whole day, and then you eat them, water and all. Though bland-sounding, it functions like rice does in other meals; as a filling dish that gives you a break from all the rich flavors of the 'side' dishes.

Usually we make three or four dishes for dinner, including the filler dish of rice, beans, and/or bread. The eating style is cool, too. The dishes are brought out to the coffee table in the living room, and, with chopsticks or spoons in hand, we have at the communal dishes.

After about a half hour to forty-five minutes, he leans over and asks, "Chi bao le, ma?", which means "You full?" To which I respond, "Chi bao le!", which translates to, "Yes, I'm full.", but my tone of voice implies more of a "Christ, yes. If I eat one more grain of rice, I will explode." At this point, he grins, and triumphantly exclaims, "Chi bao le!" He too is full, and freakin' satisfied about it.

This house rocks. Go food.