I'm Game

I can't believe what I did last night.

I was all set to spend a quiet night in my room, maybe have some noodles, maybe surf the net, whatever. Instead I was invited out for dinner. No big deal I've been to a ton of different restaurants and eaten many strange things. Tonight was going to be a little different.

I actually have to back up a little bit first. That afternoon I had gone to lunch with Ms. Vhang, the owner of the foundry that I have been spending most of my time at. We went to a little dumpling shop.

Again, no big deal.

One of the things about Chinese food is that it is FRESH! I capitalize because I can't emphasize enough the concept of fresh. Usually when you order a fish to be eaten for lunch or dinner you select if from a number of others in the tank swimming around. These tanks along with shelving similar to what you'd see at the deli display all of the food available at the establishment. This makes ordering food mercifully easy. A bit of imagination (the display isn't always in its final form) and an open mind are enough to keep your belly full.

In this instance we were selecting something as an appetizer to munch on while our dumplings were boiled. Ms Vhang is an excellent culinary guide as she fearlessly selects dishes to eat. She also seems to think I'm some kind of white elephant that needs to eat huge quantities of food. This means she orders a bountiful array as most portions are not usually large. It gets even better when eating family style.

But I digress.

In this case we are standing at one of these deli counters and I'm looking at dozens of different dishes. I'm not sure why exactly we're looking at this stuff, I didn't understand that this was the appetizer display at the time. Ms. Vang points to a dish with little shrimp in it (redundant I know) and one of the attendants grabs one for me to sample. I'm honored but not all that interested. The shrimp still has the head on it. This itself isn't unusual and I've dealt with it hundreds of times. No I'm not thrilled because I'm still a little gun shy from my recent intestinal unpleasantness. But what the hell,

I'm game.

They hand me the shrimp and just to make sure I pantomime sticking the whole thing in my mouth. Maybe it was a language issue but I'm fairly certain I'm supposed to eat it whole. Ok, when in Rome...

Not my style.

I love shrimp but I'm now certain I love it shelled and preferably deveined. Blech. To the amusement of everyone behind the counter and Ms. Vhang I quickly find myself a napkin and remove the insult from my mouth. I know, you think I'm a pussy. Wait a little bit.

So Ms. Vhang picks out a couple of other dishes (getting the hint on the shrimp) and we sit down to nibble while we wait. While waiting she gets up and heads back to the counter. When she gets back she's got a little...thing with her. It looks like a one of those noisy insects from summer (the name escapes me).

And its alive.

We poke at it, it moves. I take some video of it with my camera. I really don't want to eat this thing. After a little while she takes it back to the refrigerated display case to rub up with the shrimp.

Fast forward to that night.

The day before another of my friends here in China, Mr. Wang, had been telling me about this traditional way of cooking/heating one's bed that's done in Northern China. This restaurant specializes in this type of cooking. Total coincidence but still kind of neat. We walk in into the restaurant and select a fish from the tank. I make a point of asking for a fish that's been bad so we can punish it by eating it.

Next we head upstairs to a private room for dinner. This private room thing is very common and features again later that evening. The style of cooking is to use a small wood fire under a large iron bowl. A tiled ring surrounds the bowl and then we sit around it. The smoke is channeled away by a horizontal chimney and in traditional rural Norther China would have been directed into a chamber under the resident's bed making for a warm and comfortable night sleep. I'm fascinated by all this and take a ton of pictures.

Then comes the surprise.

While waiting for the bowl to come up to temperature we get a small plate of appetizers and guess whats on the plate.

Yup, the little squirmy things from lunch.

It is now that I learn that these are actually silk worms. These, however, are cooked. I gather they're something of a delicacy and Ms. Vhang demonstrates as much by mowing one down. Ok, Ok, I'll try one. After all,

I'm game.

The thing explodes in my mouth as I crush the exoskeleton. My mouth fills with some kind of foul mush and worst of all, its cold. Imagine a puree of chicken fat, egg and olive oil and I think you come close to the taste and consistency.

I nearly hurl.

I'm immediately looking for a place to spit it out at. Mr. Wang, Ms. Vhang and Ms. Vang's aunt all think this is high comedy. Mr. Wang won't touch the worms, he's from Shanghai he drinks snakes blood where he's from. I think the taste itself wasn't the worst part. It was the perfect storm of the thing exploding in my mouth like a cherry tomato combined with the fact that it was cold and then the idea of swallowing the exoskeleton that did it for me. I later found out that you don't swallow the shell but rather spit it out after having sucked out the guts.

Whatever.

The rest of the meal goes well. One of the techniques involved in cooking in this traditional method is to roll up corn bread dough and smacking it against the side of the bowl above the water line. Then when the fish is placed in the water (skin, fins, head and all) the lid is put on the bowl and the whole mess cooks.

After dinner I am blind sided by the suggestion that we go out for Karaoke. I've never done this before and while I think I can keep a beat, dance even whistle I'm damn sure I can't sing. Hell, I have a hard time remembering names let alone lyrics. But this is Karaoke, the words are on the screen and I've been expecting an evening out like this. Screw it,

I'm game.

So we head to the Karaoke bar and I'm kind of dreading getting up in front of a crowd of locals and making a fool of myself. I rationalize this fear away by telling myself these people do it all the time, my songs are going to be in English and who's gonna care when they're in their cups. So armored I proceed with confidence.

Remember the Chinese practice of dining in private rooms? That goes for Karaoke as well.

We get set up in a room and order a couple of beers. Mr. Wang starts out and whatever he lacks in skill he makes up for with enthusiasm. I'm next. I butcher a rendition of 'House of the Rising Sun' (the selection was limited and that was the only thing I was fairly sure I had a clue about). Over the next couple of hours I murder about 5 more songs. Ms. Vhang isn't too much better than I am but her aunt is quite good. Whether or not you speak Chinese you can tell she has some skill. I wrap up the night with a song 'One' that is completely different from what I expected (not U2) and just read the lyrics. Mr. Wang says 'That's it, we're outta here' when he realizes I'm just reading the words.

All in all an interesting and rather fun night. I'd do it again. This time I might even try to savor the silk worm. I've eaten Lutefisk.

I'm game.