Tag Archives: food

January 27th: Christmas. Every Day.

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“I wish it could be Christmas every day” sang Wizzard back in 1973, and at every Christmas since then.  Here in China, it is.  Every day in the office lifts we’re treated to the same mix of 20-second snippets of Rudolph, Frosty and a few other Christmas songs.  Interspersed with Gangnam Style.  Every day.

Here in the office, and in most of the shops, Christmas decorations persist.  A few trees have disappeared, but Father Christmas is very much still present in shop windows and advertising hoardings.  Since Chinese New Year is only a couple of weeks’ away, the general consensus is the decorations will disappear following the end of festivities.  Last year the Christmas music in the lifts disappeared halfway through April.  Maybe this year they’ll just leave it longer.  365 days of Rudolph and co.   Christmas every day indeed.

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I haven’t been to the cinema in years.  Normally quite happy to wait for the download/DVD/Blu-Ray to become available and watch a film at home without the hassle of, well, other people crunching, snorting, sniffing, coughing, slurping, talking their way through a film*.   But, on Tuesday night, we joined JB and co. at an Imax cinema near the office to watch Skyfall.

No messing about in cinemas in China.  Get in, sit down, watch film.  No Pearl & Dean, no trailers, no movie trivia, no “Please turn off your phone messages”.  Comfy seats, jalapeno flavoured popcorn and a far better experience than I was expecting.  A pretty damn good film too.

I’ve heard other people complain about the “ambience” of cinemas being ruined by the constant appearance of small pockets of light as people check their mobile phones.  I deliberately put the phone on silent (not vibrate) and in my pocket, but I have some sympathy – it’s like an itch for 2 hours: “Check me, check me!”.  I resisted.

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Some meat, on a street. I have no idea what most of it is.

Some meat, on a street. I have no idea what most of it is.

Wednesday night saw the sad occasion of my last regular post-language-lesson pool evening with JB, following the news he’ll be returning to the UK  in late Feb.  We’ll miss JB – always up for a pint and a natter, even if he’s pretty useless at pool.

Felix’s attempts to find a drummer for our nascent band meant a trip to a basement studio on Thursday night to try out a few songs with a new drummer.  Felix’s other advertisements for band members have so far resulted in one promise of true love and another of marriage, so a genuine drummer was a rarity.

Although it’s been great to spend a weekend without getting on a plane and heading out of Shanghai, it’s been a hectic one.  Following a relaxing night in De Refter with Bron on Friday night, we spent most of Saturday afternoon playing Mahjong (or Majiang) with Anny and Frank.  Obviously not for money, since I believe Anny would have easily fleeced us.  I think we’re slowly learning the rules, although the number of tiles we’ve yet to involve worries me a bit (adding complexity to an already fairly complex game).

Saturday night meant a trip to Emily’s apartment to help her celebrate Australia Day.  A little bit of Men At Work, a few Australian food delicacies but sadly no Kylie.  Since we’d been up since 6.47am (the exact time when I was woken up by the nearby building work), a 3am Sunday morning finish wasn’t what we’d planned.  A great party though – thanks Emily!

After a little more guitar playing today, we’ve been out wine tasting (in my case, to be social).  To be more descriptive: we met up with some people in a wine shop to help ourselves to the contents of five bottles of wine.   Not really what we were expecting, but then again, this is Shanghai.  Following a Thai meal with Rachel, Bron and Rachel disappeared off for a massage, leaving me to go home to write this blog.

When the local government reading says "Severely polluted", there is no doubt.

When the local government reading says “Severely polluted”, there is no doubt.

On the way back I could see stars in the night sky.  After ridiculously high levels of pollution all week, this meant a literal sigh of relief.  We can breathe again (for the moment).

*I am not in an airport lounge.  Parity has been restored.

January 2nd 2013: New Year, Thailand Style

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Bron on the Chao Phraya river

Bron on the Chao Phraya river

There’s a point at which my natural aversion to trusting anyone who approaches us whilst on holiday may well border on paranoia.  But in Bangkok, was it really just a co-incidence we happened to be intercepted by a guy with “Tourist Police” on his t-shirt who flagged down a passing tuk-tuk and “persuaded” him to take us to see three major tourist sites for the low price of 40 baht (about 80p).  And after the first site  the driver insisted he would miss out on an annual bonus unless he took us to a particular jewellery shop after seeing the sites.  And that a random bloke in site number two (a very quiet temple) just happened to start speaking to us about the very same jewellery store – they do such great deals that he “buys lots of jewellery from there and sells it to Ernest Jones in London for a big profit”.
A remarkable string of co-incidences or a very elaborate and well-worked tourist scam?
We didn’t buy any jewellery.

And come on tuk-tuk drivers:

  1. If I’m carrying a map and pointing to it, I know broadly where I am.   You can’t say “We are here” and point to somewhere completely different on the map in an attempt to charge us more money.  And…
  2. Saying “the river taxi isn’t working today so I can take you directly back to your hotel instead” isn’t going to work if we’d already taken the river taxi earlier the same day.
Honesty in PatPong

Honesty in PatPong

Bangkok then.  A wonderful world of extremes in which the spiritual mix with the seedy; the Monks mingle with the masses (and the Buddhist Monks are so ubiquitous in Bangkok that they have their own immigration lanes in the airport).   A city in which we can be refused entry to a palace in the daytime due to our inappropriate clothing (we had the temerity to wear shorts in 30 degree heat) and yet at night inappropriate clothing (and behaviour) seems to be nigh-on encouraged.

A fascinating place though – three nights wasn’t enough to do it justice.  And checking into a hotel at 3am is never a particularly good idea, especially when the hotel reception claim we can only have our room for one night before having to move rooms.  30 minutes later, the stubborn Brits won out and we were given an upgraded room for the three nights.  And what an upgrade – it was more of an two-bedroom apartment than a hotel room.

We thought whilst in Bangkok it made sense to try out a Thai massage, and ignoring anything dodgy (we went to a reputable place), a full body massage turned out to be just that.  My ears have never felt so good.

Our expectations for excellent food were also met – Indian food for breakfast (not sure why it was available, but not complaining) and some superb Thai food in the evenings.

White Temple in Chiang Rai

White Temple in Chiang Rai

So after our brief stay in Bangkok we flew up to Chiang Rai in the north of Thailand to stay at Le Merdien’s resort hotel (not too far away from Chiang Mai, which seems to the tourist location most people are familiar with).  An excellent resort despite some seriously laid-back service (apart from the manic French director of food who seemed to be trying to compensate for the apathetic approach of his staff).

The ladies at the farm

The ladies at the farm

And so for our main reason for visiting Thailand: earlier in the year, Andrea had invited us to spend New Year’s Eve with her extended family on a small, relatively remote farm about 45 minutes away from the hotel.  A farm co-owned by Andrea’s brother and his family, which led to a gathering of people from many parts of the globe.  An evening discussing cultural matters with a Thai lady from the north, politics with an Iranian man living in San Francisco, and the perils of voluntary work with a lady originally from Ellesmere Port.  From watching the sunset over the farm to perhaps the world’s most dangerous fireworks display at midnight (those fireworks accidentally planted upside-down quickly turning the “oooh” of those nearby into an “AAAH!”), a fantastic evening of entertainment, food and drink.  Local Thai cuisine mixed with classic burgers (and a ridiculously spicy salad) meant we were in no danger of going hungry.

4pm on New Year’s Day and Bronwen finally had her wish of getting me to take relax by a swimming pool whilst on holiday.  Although my idea of relaxing and Bron’s are somewhat different (Bronwen sleeps, I try to work out how to record music on an old Korg synthesiser on the iPad).

New Year’s Eve definitely made up for our rather subdued Christmas Day.  Working on December 25th isn’t something I want to do again – with most expats gone and the event understandably not meaning a great deal to the local guys, it really did just feel like a normal day in the office.  Elouise and Ryan came over on Christmas Eve for a Christmas meal (pre-cooked by a local firm), complete with crackers thanks to Marks & Spencers.   We’re all in agreement that this is hopefully a once-only event.  Next year, one way or the other, we should be back in the UK for Christmas.

December 23rd: Not Quite Christmas

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With the international schools closed, the expat family compounds abandoned and businesses reverting to Chinese rule, Shanghai has shed most of its foreigners for Christmas.  Migrating east or west, the laowai retreat en masse from whence they came, in most cases with an empty suitcase or two to fill up on Marmite, Angel Delight and Shreddies (or for the Americans: Peanut-butter flavoured anything)

Eating Christmas

Eating Christmas

For those of us left behind, it’s a little strange.  Imagine living in your house, but where somebody has temporarily borrowed your favourite sofa, or replaced all the TV channels with Russian-only dialogue documentaries about disused warehouses.  It all feels very empty.

So what else to do on a Saturday than to visit that most British of institutions – Marks & Spencer, in an attempt to try and feel a little more “Christmassy”.  We needed to buy a few crackers for Monday’s Christmas Eve meal with Ryan and Elouise so also decided to stock up on mince pies and a few other winter essentials.  At ridiculous prices.

Nikki kept us company last night (Saturday) with our last trip of the year to the heart of the former French Concession district for another steak pie at Glo London (now officially “off menu” but somehow rustled up quickly by the chef).  And a final pint of the year in the Shanghai Brewery – purveyors of the smokiest of stouts (this is a good thing).

As most people have discovered by now (although apparently a few are still clinging to hope/despair), the world didn’t end on Friday.  Fortunately, our local Chinese mobile service provider kindly sent us a helpful “don’t panic” text message on Thursday evening which is clearly explained by the following direct translation from Google: “The end of the world untrustworthy the cult crap possession evil intentions; cheated cheated join the church, once into sets of Woe accompanying; Almighty God is a cult, people misuse the doomsday scrambling; Science polish up my eyes, cults, ghosts escape invisible! Shanghai Anti-Cult Association”

Meanwhile, on my UK mobile, t-Mobile* sent me a “Welcome to Uganda” text-message on Wednesday night.  Felt to me like I was in a bar, playing pool with JB, but apparently I was elsewhere.

So Happy Christmas to one and all.  Back in the New Year…

*or whatever they’re currently called.

December 9th: Ultraviolet

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For any readers about to attend or considering making a reservation at Ultraviolet, this is your spoiler alert – do not read any further.

A few years ago, a travel company in Yorkshire set-up a holiday scheme whereby guests could stay in a hotel decorated in the style of a particular country.  Each day they would travel out on a coach, returning to the hotel later the same day to find the hotel redecorated and transformed into the style of a different nation.  Mexico one day, Brazil the next.  A way to explore the world from the confines of a hotel in Yorkshire.

With the chef, Paul Pairet

With the chef, Paul Pairet

In Shanghai, Ultraviolet offers its guests something similar, but possibly just a little bit more classy.  With a requirement to book three months in advance, Ultraviolet aims to “unite food with multi-sensorial technologies” (from their website).  What this means in reality: a 22-course tasting menu, with nearly every dish paired with a different beverage.   Each dish also paired with a unique projected table decoration,  projected wallpaper (the entire room encapsulated in projections), a style of music and in some cases, an infusion of smells to allow the patrons to experience each dish like never before.

View to the kitchen

View to the kitchen

With one table and one setting only – for 10 people – the guests are picked-up at a pre-defined meeting point and taken to a  “secret” location.  All-in-all, 25 staff taking care of 10 bewildered but delighted customers.

It’s difficult to fully explain with just pictures and words; this was an utterly unique experience.   The dishes themselves would have been fantastic on their own, but consuming them in this type of environment took them to another level.

For prosperity, the menu as follows (in sequence with the first photo below):

  • Ostie: Single bite of frozen wasabi
  • Foie Gras – Can’t Quit: Foie Gras shaped like a cigar
  • Pop Rock Oyster: Flavoured with green tea
  • Micro Fish no Chips: Battered fish flavoured with capers and anchovy
  • Cuttlefish Guimauve: Sliced and served in front of us
  • Lobster Essential
  • Bread: Truffle Burnt Soup Bread – probably my favourite of the dishes.  Very hard to explain!
  • Charred Eggplant
  • Encapsulated Bouillabaisse: The raw ingredients of soup in a single bite
  • Cucumber Lollipop
  • Seabass Monte Carlo: Seabass cooked inside a bread loaf
  • Engloved Truffle Lamb
  • Wagyu Simple: Kobe beef
  • Tomato Pomodamore
  • Cheese & Salad: MW Calvamembert
  • No Shark Fin Soup: Tomato & Peach flavoured
  • Suzette Carrot-Cake: Carrots and coriander
  • Mandarine: Mandarin flavoured cake
  • Hibernatus Gummies: Gummy bears with Coca Cola Rocks
  • Mignardises: Egg Tartlette
  • Ispahan Dishwash: Dirty dishes?  All edible, including the foam.

December 9th: Bacardi and Charity

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Rachel, Bron, Yulia, Stefan, JB and the unknown lady

Rachel, Bron, Yulia, Stefan, JB and the unknown lady

Bron and Rachel at the Mao Livehouse

Bron and Rachel at the Mao Livehouse

“Can I take your photo?  We don’t normally see white people at these events” asked the photographer at Saturday’s Bacardi sponsored (i.e., free) evening at the Mao Livehouse.  How to describe… A room full of (mostly) Chinese people all drinking Bacardi Breezers, with a woman on stilts walking around topping up everyone’s bottles with more Bacardi rum.  A glass cage in the middle of the dance floor containing leather-clad dancers being doused in water from a giant Bacardi bottle (I’m assuming it was water and not rum).  An on-stage dance competition featuring Gangnam style music compered by China’s Timmy Mallet.  And free Bacardi all night long.

JB and Yulia consider entering the glass cage for a dance

JB and Yulia consider entering the glass cage for a dance

Bron and Rachel at the Mao Livehouse

Bron and Rachel at the Mao Livehouse

Our Bacardi evening was preceded by a far more civil event – a meal for a local charity called Bean (organised by Teresa, a lady we’d met on the Moganshan trip) where the guests paid a fixed price to experience food eaten by orphans, standard Chinese food and a few Western dishes.  And free wine all night long.

We ended the evening in a cocktail bar.  It’s winter: a hot rum cocktail is always going to be a winner.

Tuesday evening’s encounter at a venue called “Ultraviolet” deserves a blog of its own (coming soon) – primarily so I don’t spoil it for anyone considering going.

Argos Collection Point near People's Park in Shanghai

Argos Collection Point near People’s Park in Shanghai

Work continues to be demanding, challenging but never dull.  Friday night’s quick drink after work – somewhat necessary since we left the office around 8pm – lasted a little longer than planned.  But for once we managed to have a lie-in on Saturday – either so tired as not to notice or the many construction workers who normally start at 7.30am every weekend decided to have the day off.  A late start and a trip to a nearby Argos pick-up point made for a very relaxed Saturday.  Marks and Spencer – please note – we’re British and desperately in need of mince pies at this time of year.  But £5 for a box of six!  Come on…

A more exciting-than-planned journey to work on Wednesday.  Advice for foreigners during most conflicts in China, big or small, is generally “don’t get involved”.  When you’re sat in the back of a taxi, stopped in the fast lane of a motorway having been side-swiped into the wall by a lunatic driver, it’s difficult not to.  A police car arrived – as if by magic – about 30 seconds after the incident (literally), and after a little pointing, shouting and smoking, forced the drivers to follow to a safe place: the chevrons by a slip lane.

My Mandarin skills not being sufficient to understand loud, shouty dialogue, it looked as if lunatic driver was pointing at the taxi’s damaged front wing and exclaiming “Look at the dent in the right hand side of your car that you forced me to make”.

20 minutes later we set off again.  We took the taxi, rather than the Metro, as we needed to get to work earlier than normal. Alas.

Today (Sunday) – yet more music with Felix.  Going well…

November 26th: Hot Springs and Love Jenga

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After the hike

Me, Rachel, Jeff, Bron, Stefan, Emily, Bruce, Anca, Patrick, Echo and Jane after the hike. Hot springs awaiting…

For those who know me well; do not worry.  What follows is not an account of some kind of spiritual awakening, nor is it an attempt to connect with my inner self (or even my middle self, content and paunch-like as it is).  And as such, If I do ever utter* anything even vaguely akin to “being at one with nature” then I vow to immediately stop the blog, come home to the UK and reconnect with my hidden Scouse self.

On Sunday we returned from another weekend away in the mountains.  This time a mere 4 ½  hour bus journey away, near a place called Anji in North Zhejiang province.  A group of 13 in total; 7 of us (including Bron and I) from a group of local friends sufficiently intrigued by the offer of hot springs atop a mountain, 5 other interested people and Jeff, our guide (a Chinese guy with a French accent  – because he lived in Denmark for 5 years).

So on Sunday lunchtime, instead of lying on the sofa watching DVDs or heading to the local supermarket, we find ourselves outdoors on top of a mountain wearing swimming gear, sitting in a Jasmine infused hot spring with the rest of the group.  We watch the cold mist spreading across the mountain through the bamboo forest (all visible from our hot spring) whilst Echo** starts to sing a traditional Chinese song (about Jasmine, funnily enough).  My brain never normally shuts off, constantly working at 100mph, so this was all a little unusual for me.  Relaxing, peaceful, and so different to anything we’re ever likely to experience in Shanghai.  No need to dress this up as anything else – just a bloody lovely way to spend a Sunday.

Bron and the waterfall

Bron guarding the waterfall

Jumping from hot spring to hot spring (for there were many) was also a great experience – a few seconds of very cold temperatures followed by long spells enjoying the warmth of the hot springs.  We also tried out the water massages, fish-that-nibble-your-feet (well, Bronwen did) and a human jet-wash – plenty of other water-based ways to keep visitors amused.

We’d met up with Jeff and co on Friday evening to begin our bus journey, arriving in the village of LongWang (literally “Dragon King”) just before midnight.  Our lodgings could be considered halfway between a hostel and a 2-star hotel – individual rooms but freezing cold.  Each room had an air-conditioner theoretically capable of blowing out hot air but in actuality only capable of circulating an asthmatically wheezed puff of tepid air at random intervals.

Narrow paths...

The start of the narrow min-canal path

On Saturday we were accompanied by the local mayor on a hike up through the mountains on 1000 year old paths leading from one village to another.  Nothing too strenuous and plenty of time to appreciate the surroundings.  High up in the mountains they’d built an ingenious mini-canal to collect the water and force it into a single point of entry in the village, providing the locals with both electricity and water.  Part of the hike involved walking along the edge of this mini-canal; the walls were about one foot wide, so with a sheer drop one side and water on the other, the hike slowed down significantly.

Before the days of technology, the village of LongWang was famous for paper made from local bamboo.  Far too much detail to go into here, but with the amount of effort required to produce a single sheet of paper (as demonstrated to us) it’s no wonder an industrialised solution was found.

House on a mountain

Our hosts for a cup of tea halfway up a mountain

On Saturday night, our evening of food (served in part by the local mayor), Jenga and cards were accompanied by a mysteriously yellow coloured rice wine, which swiftly became the drinking punishment.  I’m quite happy playing cards but I didn’t know there was a “Love” version of Jenga.  Think of normal Jenga but with forfeits written on each block.  Our version was in Chinese with an English translation underneath; sample forfeit (verbatim) “Make a queer smile”.

So following Sunday’s hike up to the hot spring and several hours of relaxation, we had a slow, reluctant trip back to Shanghai.  Nothing spiritual going on here, but one of the best weekends we’ve had since arriving in China, with a great bunch of people.

On Thursday night we were honoured (nay, privileged) to be invited by Rachel and Andrea to join them at an American (is there any other kind?) Thanksgiving event at the Boxing Cat Brewery.  I have to admit being somewhat trepadicious for fear of being whooped and hollered to death (if Brits are occasionally like Mr Bean, then Americans are occasionally like Dog the Bounty Hunter), but despite Rachel’s attempts to secure the contrary, we ended up on a comparatively quiet floor.  Shedloads of food, free-flowing drinks (including specially brewed “pumpkin ale” which tastes a lot better than it sounds) and a top night all in all.  If China is neutral territory for the Brits and the Yanks, Bron and I were understandably outnumbered on Thursday night.  The first Thanksgiving meal I’ve had since living in the US many years ago; good to experience a little bit (well, a huge amount) of Americana here in Shanghai.  Either that or my first Christmas meal of 2012.

* if one can utter on a blog

**a footnote solely for fans of the Sega Megadrive: Echo, one of the Chinese girls in the group, not Echo the Dolphin.