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Anyone for 'grease explode blossom'
I am tired of getting chicken claws and necks in my soup. This happened two days in a row. I am sick of spitting out bones from fish, chicken, pork and beef. I do not want to order soup with fish heads in it, and I never want to see another animal head on my plate again. I am weary of smelling the most wonderful smells in Beijing restaurants and accidentally ordering cold rolled cabbage in fiery hot mustard sauce for dinner because of a bad photo on a menu. Where is the Chinese food I am used to - the delicious chicken and vegetables in exotic sauces, the shredded pork wrapped in little pancakes with a dollop of hoisin sauce? I catch glimpses of these dishes, but can never manage to order them correctly. One nice waiter with a little knowledge of English tried explaining his fish recommendation while holding a bucket with the live specimen flapping around inside. At another restaurant I ordered a "vodka tonic" from a "translated" menu. I was not prepared as I watched them dip a ladle into a large jar stewing with lizards that resembled small squirrels and scoop out the liquid for me to drink. At least I knew how to order beer to wash it all down. Sometimes I need everyday food. American chain restaurants and non-Chinese restaurants are not the answer. I got tired of eating gray-coloured hamburgers or going all the way to Sanlitun for a pricey meal just because the menu is in English. So I began cooking my own meals. I started with breakfast. Eggs are harder to shop for than expected, since there are 100 different kinds. I didn't want the ones that were really big or small because I was not sure what had laid them. I didn't want the salted, pickled, tea soaked, marbled, red, hot and sour, preserved, or 1,000-year-old eggs. After all that searching, a plain chicken egg can taste pretty good. For lunch, I made good old fashioned New Orleans style gumbo. I used Taiwan sausage instead of andouille, Mongolian hot pot spices instead of Cajun, soy sauce instead of Worcestershire, and Sichuan pepper for heat. The result - a decent Chinese influenced gumbo. For dinner I decided on pasta with Bolognese sauce. I got a pack of ground meat I was pretty sure wasn't pork. It wasn't. It was lamb. (Who wants to make lamb Bolognese?) Still, it turned out delicious. For dessert, having no oven to bake in, I made crepes. The wok cooks a fine crepe. But I could still smell the wonderful aromas coming from local restaurants. That is when I decided to take on Chinese menus - translating them and learning enough to order a decent meal. I wanted to order the authentic versions of General Tso's chicken, kung pao chicken, sweet and sour pork, and mu xu pork. An all-Chinese menu from the neighbourhood Sichuan joint with 180 items seemed like a good place to start. I would identify the Chinese radical, look up the Chinese character, find the pinyin name and then translate into English. I had been studying Mandarin for a good month, so how hard could it be? Forty hours and one week later, I had translated everything possible on that little menu. It seemed an exercise in futility. My translations were not going to make ordering any easier. What exactly is "heavy layer celebrate water boil fish" or "sugar vinegar inside ridge?" I found kung pao chicken but my translation defines it as "palace explodes chicken silk." I felt pretty safe ordering "scallion white pork silk," but it would take an old China hand to know that "sharp pepper earth bean silk" is really julienne potatoes and "loose jade rice" is actually corn. I couldn't imagine trying to understand all of the menus out there. My guidebook has a section devoted to regional dishes, and they are listed in English, pinyin and Chinese characters. Braised pork and crab balls from Jiangsu Province sounds delicious, but it becomes "crab pink lion seed head" when I translate it. Deep fried egg yolk with essence of banana from Shandong Province becomes "fragrant burnt wok explode." My favorite translation is "husband and wife lung sliced." I also admire "red grease cow organ leaf," "five fragrant mouth strip," "garlic mud white pork," and "grease explode blossom," which I am pretty sure is just peanuts. But now I recognize most Chinese radicals. I don't know what they mean, but I know what they look like. I know the characters for organ meats, mud snake, jellyfish, tripe, and bullfrog, so I can steer clear. I recognize chicken, pork, and all kinds of vegetables. After all that work I can go forth armed with the knowledge of a few characters, an adventurous attitude and my appetite. Thinking back, that vodka "tonic" was pretty tasty. Some mistakes expand your horizons. Now I am going to try "wine-like sauce damn soup Chinese money." It sounds expensive, but costs about 50 cents.
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