One billion bites per second....

I know. I am terribly far behind in my writings. I've still yet to write about Italy, France, Berlin, and a few more on London, and yet I've already moved onto something and somewhere new.

China.

To be frank, I've never had any desire to visit China. Even when I was travelling all over SE Asia with a friend about five years ago, we were in Hong Kong, China was about as close, and easy to get to, as Seattle is to Vancouver, and I chose an extra day in Hong Kong over visiting Mr. Mao's country. Even when my plans for a trip to China began to solidify and take form a few months ago, my anticipation levels could be described as being rather...muted. It wasn't until a conversation in Rome with my friend J that I was given a real reason to be excited about my visit to China. How silly of me! Blind really! That I should have ever failed to realize that China would be an amazing experience for the palate! With over a billion people and counting, hundreds...maybe even thousands...of local specialties, food with a strong emphasis on flavour, flavour, flavour, food so good that how much you gain in weight is almost indicative of how good of time you had. If there is one thing that everyone can afford to do in China it is to eat and to eat well. A meal for two, with a generous spread of 4-5 dishes, beers, and tea can be had for a mere 50 yuan (approx. $6 CAD), even fine dining is well below what one would pay in North America. And so I packed my bags, a little nervous about my soon to be expanding waistline, but very eager to begin my explorations of true Chinese cuisine in one of its largest and most historical cities.

Having only just arrived in Beijing yesterday, I've had little time to research and ask around for local recommendations. However, by pure luck I managed to sample one of the biggest trends in Beijing restaurant/dining culture right now - Szechuan food.

So what is Szechuan food? I could tell you a little bit about the province, give you some background information, but the only thing you really need to know about Szechuan cuisine is that it is SPICY. Not the kind of spicy that puts a little heat in your mouth, or even the kind that clears your sinuses; this is the kind of spicy that has you pulling at your shirt collars, asking for more napkins not because you spilt your drink, but because you are sweating like a guilty man on trial from the furnace that used to be your mouth, the kind of spicy that bring grown men to tears, but it tastes so good you just can't seem to stop the self-torture. Some of you may scoff at this, thinking to yourself, "I've had Szechuan food before, it's not that spicy at all!" Well, I am willing to bet that either you are living and eating in some country other than China, or you were born with almost no taste buds in your mouth.

Just around the corner of the place I'm staying is a small restaurant of no more than 10 tables, each seating a maximum of 4-6 people. The decor is sparse, plastic/wooden tables with matching picnic bench seats, linoleum tiled flooring, a drink cooler in the middle of the room beside the server station, and the kitchen is hidden behind a small doorway draped with a cloth curtain. Yet, like anywhere in the world, one can generally tell if a restaurant is good by the size of the line outside and how consistently busy it is during the week. According to W the place was always busy and after walking by again on a Wednesday night, I can also confirm that a line up is generally present as well. Peering through the windows people were eating what appeared to be some type of large Hotpot, but without the soupy base, from which emanated a most deliciously smoky aroma.

Now, here is my personal predicament when dining out in any Chinese establishment.

I can't read Chinese.

It's terribly embarrassing sometimes, especially when you take into account the fact that I am every bit the Chinese-girl in appearance and can actually speak pretty fluent Mandarin. Thus, the minute I open my mouth it's generally assumed that I can also read and write. It is definitely something I am working on, but as far as I'm concerned at this present moment the character for "beef" might as well stand for "pudding."

So, back at this neighborly establishment I found myself faced with a menu full of choices, however, none of which I could decipher. So I flagged down their friendliest looking waiter, and explained my situation and placed our order completely in his hands. It turns out that the ordering method is very much like Hotpot, you order various types of sliced meats, select your vegetables, and maybe some tofu options. The waiter then brings out your order with the various ingredients placed on individual platters for your inspection. Unlike Hotpot where you basically do the cooking yourself, the waiter then takes your selection of meat and veggies back into the kitchen where the chef quickly stir fries it in a large metallic pan with hot red peppers and various Chinese spices, before returning the dish, still in the metal pan, onto a burner in the centre of your table which keeps it warm for the duration of your meal.

Since W can not handle spicy foods at all, I did my best in asking the waiter to make it as mild as possible. However, what arrived at our table looked about as spicy as it gets, with large hot red chilies appearing the be the dominant flavouring in our dish. We had ordered sliced pork, beef, as well as lotus root, tofu skins, and sliced winter melon. Our meal was accompanied by a bowl of white rice, and a few cans of "Wang Lao Jin," a type of Chinese iced tea, to help wash the spicy food down. While I didn't find it too bad, poor W was sweating buckets from the heavy handed spices. The beef was tender and almost falling apart, I found the pork a little tough to chew, and the vegetables soaked up the flavours nicely. There was so much food it could have easily been shared amongst 4-5 people, and in fact many of our neighboring tables were doing just that. We left the restaurant feeling very much satisfied and our bellies nice and round. And the best part of the meal? The bill. After everything it came out to around 120 yuan, approximately $15 CAD, and had we gone with more friends it would've been an even better bargain.

I'm hoping to try out the famous Szechuan Hotpot sometime this weekend or next week. It's a craze that's swept throughout China and can now be found creeping into North America. Fortunes have been made, built on Hotpot empires. So even though I doubt I'll get the chance to gain in such fortunes myself, there is no reason why I cannot at least indulge in the flavours from which they were made.