Big Walls & Fried Scorpions

The Hutong is a very cool little Arts Center that focuses on culture, art, wellness, and much to my delight, cooking!  Located in a converted hutong courtyard home, it is the perfect setting to learn about lovely Chinese things like dumplings, noodles, watercolor painting, or even Kung Fu.  I have my eye on several classes at The Hutong, including Tea Tasting, Hand Pulled Noodles, Home Style Chinese Cooking, and Chinese Painting, I began my Chinese studies with Dumpling Making.

Though my favorite dumplings are boazi, the little steamed pork buns I went on and on about, I do love a good jaozi as well.  Jaozi are similar to Gyoza or Potstickers, but, naturally, China has their own special way of making these.

Fillings
When we arrived, our teacher, Sophia, had laid out a spread of ingredients in small white bowls.  We were encouraged to sniff and taste each ingredient (expect the raw meat, of course) and learned a little about each one, and how it was prepped for inclusion in the dumplings:

Pork: The raw pork was ground, like hamburger meat.  Sophia told us that it is best to find pork that is heavily marbled with fat when making dumplings, as the fat is necessary for a smooth texture.

Eggs: These were scrambled in a hot wok with a little salt and oil, then chopped finely.

Tofu: Sophia used a very firm, but in all other regards, basic white tofu.  It was crumbled, then stir fried in oil to reduce its moisture.

Carrots: The carrots we used were minced in a juicer, but you can also use a food processor, or (heaven help you) a veggie peeler and knife to achieve the same, finely minced texture.

Pepper Oil: Pepper Oil is made by infusing dried peppercorns (red or green depending on personal taste) in oil.  Sophia uses a plain Soybean Oil and Red Peppercorns and heats them over a low flame in her wok.  You can strain the Peppercorns out of the oil when it cools, or leave them in it for visual flair.

Black Wood Fungus: These mushrooms are purchased dried and then reconstituted using room temperature salted water.  The dried fungus looks like a black rose, but after it is hydrated it looks more like a squashy pile of seaweed.  Mince it finely after it is hydrated for use in dumplings. On a side note, according to Sophia, these mushrooms are used to cool the body, and cleanse the digestive system in Chinese medicine.  They can supposedly help with gall stones and other various digestive issues, but should be avoided if you are an overly chilly person.

Duck Soy Sauce: A thick, dark, and intensely flavored soy sauce that is usually used on meats, and of course, duck. This is used only with meat dumplings, as the flavor is too strong for veggies.

Glass Noodle: Sophia had a good time making us guess what these stiff, white noodles were made of.  Our guesses included: rice, radish, and vericelli, but were all totally wrong.  These special noodles are made from green beans and peas.  They become totally clear when cooked, and have a very unique, elastic-like texture.  They should be boiled for 3-5 minutes, or until they become totally transparent, then drained, but not rinsed.  When they cool enough to handle them, chop them into little, 1/2 centimeter bits.

Ginger: We used fresh, finely diced ginger, but Sophia assured us that you can also use dried ginger or crystallized ginger according to your taste.  An interesting note, the preparation of ginger, as well as the part of the ginger root used, affects is purpose when it comes to Chinese Medicine.

Shitake Mushroom: In China, these little brown mushrooms are readily available both fresh and dried.  According to Sophia, the dried mushrooms have a better flavor for dumplings, so we used the dried kind.  These are hydrated the same way the Black Wood Fungus is – in room temperature salt water.

Scallions (Chinese Leeks): In China they have these enormous scallions, which they call either chives or scallions in English.  I am not sure, but I think they might be closer to leeks in actuality.  They use them constantly in Chinese cuisine.  For dumplings, they chop them very finely.

Mystery Greens: There is a very dark green leaf that is minced and added very commonly to dumplings in Beijing.  Our teacher, Sophia, called it Dill at first, but after we all smelled it we decided it definitely could not be dill.  She used the word “fennel” next, but I’m still not 100% percent sure it was fennel.  It had a slightly herbaceous, lemony aroma, but has a texture similar to spinach once its cooked. Up until now, I had assumed it was spinach or the dark leafed baby Chinese cabbage that is so common here right now.

The Fillings
To make Veggie Dumpling Filling, you simply mix and match any non-meat fillings you like, then top them off with some Pepper Oil and a little salt.  For meat dumplings, the process is a wee bit more standardized.  First, stir in a few teaspoons of Duck Soy Sauce into the meat, followed by the minced scallions, and some salt.  Crack an egg white into the mix and stir (in only one direction) until the egg whites whip up and get the mixture nice and sticky.  Once the mixture has gotten nice and goopy, you can add your Mystery Greens and some Pepper Oil.  Add more Salt and Soy Sauce to taste, and maybe a little ginger if the mood strikes you.

The Dough
The dough is very basic, just flour and water, kneaded into a soft, but not sticky ball. You can enhance the nutritional value of the dough (as well as the appearance) by using vegetable juice in place of water.  We used carrot juice and spinach juice, but there are countless other juices that could be used as well.  Beet juice, for instance, would create lovely purple dumplings.  Once the dumpling dough is ready, it is rolled into a tube that measures a little less than an inch in diameter.  The tube is then chopped into 1 inch nuggets and dusted with dry flour.  We rounded the nuggets, then flattened them into discs using the palms of our hands.  You could probably use a cup or a mallet to get more perfect discs, but I’m not sure that’s really very necessary.  The tricky part comes next.  You’ll need to flour your work surface, and get yourself a very small rolling pin.  Pinch one edge of your disc, then roll firmly into the center on three sides, (rotating each time).  Continue to roll the pin in very deep on each turn until you get your disc to be about 3 inches or so wide.  The goal is to make the inside of the disc thicker than the outside, so that the bit that holds the filling is strong, and the excess dumpling isn’t too chewy.  This took some practice, and for later inspiration, I took a short video of Sophia rolling her dough like an expert. You can check it out here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/drstrangeglove/4114672492/

Stuffing and Folding
Another slightly tricky part, filling and folding the dumplings is a delicate art.  To a perfectionist, this activity could be maddening, but if you simply want to get that sucker closed, it’s not so hard.  Lay the wrapper flat in your palm, then use your other hand to scoop the filling into the middle. Not too much, not too little.  Pinch the middle of the wrapper closed first, then carefully pinch one of the edges together, and fold the remaining opening in the same direction that you folded the edge.  Repeat on the other side, and viola! Your little joazi is ready to go.

Cooking the Jaozi
After we had a platter full of dumplings which ranged in beauty from flawless to lumpy and weird (these, Sophia called “Sexy Ass Dumplings – I couldn’t really figure out why, but she kept pointing to them and giggling) we boiled ourselves a wok fill of water and dumped those suckers in!  This part excited me, can you tell?  I love boiling things in woks.  The steam!  The danger!  It’s really pretty thrilling.  Anyway, we boiled them until, and I quote, “they sink to the bottom, then rise to the top, then sink to the bottom again, then rise again, then sink and rise once more.”  Another clue to tell that they had finished cooking was to look at their shape.  Dumplings puff up while they cook, and when they’ve finished they shrink up like saran wrap.  You can also poke at the meat ones a bit to see how firm they are.

We also pan fried some, which were really really delicious.  To pan fry the dumplings, you heat oil in a wok, then place the raw dumplings in the pan, standing on their little dumpling bottoms.  Let them cook for a bit, until they become golden down below, then add a generous portion of water, and cover then pan.  You’ll know their finished based on the aforementioned saran wrap and poke tests, but you cannot, unfortunately rely on the sink and rise test this time.

Dipping
Jaozi are meant to be dipped!  They are most commonly, if not always, served with brown rice vinegar.  Most folks toss some hot chili pepper and oil into the mix. (Myself included) And some people even like to add a little plain soy sauce to the equation.  Any way you dip them though, they should be pretty ding dang tasty. Ours certainly were.

beijing, originally uploaded by kyselak.

包子 bāo​zi​ steamed stuffed bun

Baozi are a staple part of my diet, here in Beijing. These little buns are stuffed with a mixture of minced pork, seasonings, and scallions then steamed in little bamboo containers in towering stacks over pots of boiling water. Generally, these little bundles of deliciousness are only available in the morning, but if you keep your eyes peeled you can find hole in the wall boazi joints that serve these little darlin’s all day long. Yummers.

By the way, the best way to eat these is piping hot, with a side of vinegar and hot chili pepper. Nibble a little hole in the side to let the excess heat out, then soak that baby in sizzling spicy vinegar. Ohhhhh mama.

The guys had their first show all together in Beijing over the weekend.  On Saturday night, they played at Yu Gong Yi Shan, one of the top indie venues in the city, and everything went just about as well as it could.  The guys put on a great show, with the help of the very professional crew at Yu Gong Yi Shan.  It made an incredible difference to see them at a venue with such great sound and lighting.  With the guys playing up to their potential, with the venue, sound, and lights in perfecty harmony, their performance seemed to attract quite a bit of attention.  Though they were the opening act, there was a good sized crowd watching by the end of their set, including several professional looking photographers.  The set attracted the attention of one very special listener, a journalist from a certain famous British publication.  He stole two of the guys away for a short while after the show to conduct an impromptu interview.  It was a very pleasant surprise! Hopefully, the high energy evening made an impression on the local scene, and it will lead to more Beijing gigs in the future. For now, the guys are simply enjoying the high that comes after a job well done.

After the set was finished we partied hardy for the rest of the night.  Many whiskey & cokes, and many Tsing Tao’s were enjoyed backstage, at the bar, and wandering around the general vicinity of Yu Gong Yi Shan.  Bobleo and I bailed early (around 2 am) so that I might get some semblance of rest before my classes the next morning.  We got home around 3 am, debated for about 20 minutes over whether we should go to sleep drunk and hungry or try to locate some post-bender grub.  Fortunately for us, we passed out while still arguing.  8 am was less than friendly when it arrived, but somehow I found the strength to trudge to Wanda Plaza and muddle through a kindergarten, then a 3rd grade class. Lucky for me, I’ve discovered the virtues of crayons.  Less screaming, less jumping, more learning. Go crayons.

Our Favorite Kebab Place, originally uploaded by MHorama.

One of our favorite places to chow down, especially after a night of beer drinking, “The Kebab Place” as we call it, is definitely not your everyday American eatery. Tiny stools and itty bitty foldable tables speckle the cement sidewalk outside of this restaurant’s back kitchen. There is a small restaurant around the corner where you can sit at a normal table, if you like, but most folks tend to gobble kebabs outdoors if the weather is cooperative.

You can order all kinds of things grilled on sticks, but my favorite is Yang Rou, or mutton. I’ve also tried sheep tendon and chicken wing, but I believe there are many other parts that are usually served up this way. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) I can’t read the menu, so I may never nibble the other mysterious meats here.

Though we were assured by various internet sources, and by several Beijingers that snow was extremely uncommon here, we awoke on Sunday morning to a sky full of fluffy white flakes. When I first looked out the window, it appeared to be nothing more than a light dusting. Small potatoes for a New Englander! I smugly strapped on my sneakers and bundled myself in a scarf and panta and headed to work. No sissy taxis or subways for me! Within ten minutes of leaving the house I began to realize that this had been a mistake. The lack of drainage and slippery sidewalks in Beijing made for a slushy, treacherous walk. The snow continued to pound down from the sky during the whole walk to work, through my hour and a half class, and beyond. Bobleo and our friend Matt had planned to meet me after my class, and I stupidly agreed to meet them at a nearby Starbucks that I had never visited before. I wound up wondering around CBD for over an hour in search of a Starbucks that turned out to be on another road entirely. I was so cold and wet by the time we finally found each other that it killed all novelty the snow had first held. The wet, slushy, pile had mounded up to several inches by then, and underneath it had melted entirely on contact with the still warm, November ground.

We headed back to Matt’s place after that, and stuck our shoes in his oven to dry. I am quite jealous of his oven by the way – they are hardly standard commodities in Beijing apartments. We curled up on the couch and watched movies and ate scrambled eggs for the rest of the afternoon. Not a bad way to end a snowy day.

Beer is certainly different in China. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was drastically different, but it certainly is not the same. For instance, local beers such as Yan Jing or Tsing Tao come in gigantic bottles, and cost between 1.5 and 10 RMB, in USD that roughly works out to between .25 and 1.50. The beer is very light, very clear, and it packs a very mellow buzz. They say that a real American beer drinker could put away a bathtub full of Beijing beer without an issue. As for me, I’ve discovered that three big bottles is just right for putting me into a pleasant party mode, but 5 is sure to send be sputtering, stuttering, and generally making an ass of myself. So, three is my magic beer number. I’m pretty sure that Bobleo’s number is somewhere around 5, and his stupid number has reached 10 on occasion. Bottom line? Beijing beer is easy to drink, and usually cheaper than water, (which usually runs from 1 to 5 RMB for a bottle half the size of a big beer).

Imported beers are available at fancier stores and bars, but they’ll cost you. A regular sized Newcastle, Carlsberg, or the like will run you about 8 or 9 RMB in a shop and upwards of 30 or 40 RMB at a bar. Now, getting an imported beer for the equivalent of around 5 bucks is not really such a bad deal, but when you compare that to the price of local beer, it seems like an unnecessary indulgence. The same is true for Coffee. While you can feed people lunch at a Chinese restaurant for around 5 RMB each, a single cup of coffee can run anywhere from 15 (really cheap and rarely found) to 40 RMB! Imagine a world where your drinks cost more than your dinner. That’s Beijing for you. Somehow, coffee shops seem to flourish in every direction here in Beijing, and though they haven’t all got it quite right, there are a few diamonds in the rough.

Starbucks in Beijing is pretty much exactly the same as it in the U.S. Their drinks are expensive, but tasty and reliable. Their boxed food is overdressed and under flavored, but you know you can count on getting the same thing day in and day out, and that it will taste exactly like it does at home. With my recent bout of homesickness I can see how folks can develop serious Starbucks addictions while living in Beijing. There are very few American things here that are so precisely and accurately recreated as a Starbucks. Somehow, sipping a Grande Vanilla Latte can comfort me in a way that nothing else here seems to. Don’t get me wrong, the food here is great! But sometimes, you are just longing for a familiar flavor. The bucks hits the nail on the head.

Near our apartment, there is a small coffee shop called Bobby B.’s which is another favorite of mine. The prices are a little more forgiving, the venue is a little cozier, AND they give you huge portions along with complimentary cookies, water, and wifi if you choose to enjoy your coffee inside the cafe. My only gripe would be that they sometimes open before their machines are ready to go, a terrible tease when you are living in a city where coffee shops don’t start opening until around 10:00 AM! Bobleo and I have been on a mission to make coffee at home, and until recently have had to settle for dehydrated Nescafe packets in place of real, honest to goodness java. The powdered beverage is somewhere in between hot cocoa and coffee and is really not too bad, but, obviously, not the same as coffee. I am particularly suspicious of the caffeine content in Nescafe. Neither the powdered nor the canned version ever seems to add any bounce to your step. Luckily, our new friend, Matt, just bought a new coffee machine for his apartment and generously donated his old one to us, along with two packages of ground coffee. This may not seem like an earth shaking event to you stateside people, but after trying to locate ANYTHING in this city, nevermind real coffee, we were dancing on cloud 9 to get our hands on this bundle of joy. The brewing has begun, and we are hoping that soon we’ll get our grounds and water ratios perfected to create delicious coffee on a daily basis. By the way, boxed milk is another interesting phenomena we are getting used to. OK in coffee, but downright weird alongside a stack of Chips Ahoy.

Smokes are another el cheapo commodity here in Beijing. Bobleo and I don’t smoke (anymore) but being surrounded by smokers we can’t help but note the difference in culture when it comes to cigarettes. Basically, the motto is "smoke em if you got em". It seems that you can smoke freely in about 90% of public places. A few exceptions are most coffee shops, shopping centers, hospitals, and elevators. Ciggs are also notoriously cheap, but sometimes very suspicious here. From what I understand, cigarettes are a very popular target for counterfeiters and bootleggers, so though your smokes may cost you a fraction of what you pay in the U.S. you can’t always be sure they’ll include tobacco.

That’s it for now. Hope to drop a line again soon!

I know I’ve been inexcusably silent when it comes to this blog. I’ve downright neglected it after talking real big turkey about keeping it up while I was away. The truth is, the Bobleo and I have been sort of held up in our apartment as if the world had filled with zombies for the past few weeks. I’ve meant to write. I’ve meant to record our travels and escapades here on Big Walls, but the truth is, so far this trip hasn’t exactly been the fun filled adventure we’d had it cracked up to be. In fact, we’ve discovered that though this city is brimming, overflowing even, with people, it can be a very lonely place. Depression is a mean son of a bitch, and he’ll bite ya when you are feeling alone, cold, and scared on the other side of the world.

Bobleo and I have spent the majority of our private time here huddled under the covers watching movies and tv shows off of Youku.com. When we do venture outside we inevitably undergo severe frustration and isolation as we try to get our hands on food, communicate with cab drivers, or even just locate bare necessities. We are always and forever trying to learn more Chinese. Scott’s accent is pretty good, but his bucketful of talent has a whole in it (in the shape of his short term memory). I, on the other hand, can remember all kinds of useful things, but for some reason when I say them out loud Chinese folks have absolutely no clue what I’m talking about. Apparently I suffer from BMM (Beijing Mush Mouth).

We may sound bleek, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. China is resilient, persistent, and ever-changing, and if we ever plan on feeling at home here we must follow its example. It may take us five or six taxis before one understands where it is that I want to go, but we’ll just have to keep on hailing them until we get it right. For every dish of food I’ve ordered by accident there must be countless hours spent making notes, practicing pronunciation, and scrawling shamefully misshapen characters in my notebook. Our goals are meager; successfully ordering that delicious mutton and cilantro dish our Chinese friend, Ash, introduced us to a couple of weeks ago, locating art or craft supplies in the maze of shops that compose this ancient city, avoiding Carrefour for the rest of eternity, not letting my kindergarten English class drive me to suicide, and maybe, just maybe, successfully communicating with a higher percentage of taxi cab drivers.

We also need to get our lazy butts in gear and start visiting famous places. The most tourist-like thing we’ve done is visit the night market in Wanfujing, small peanuts compared to the big guns like Tianmen or the Great Wall. With the help of The Beijinger, (http://www.thebeijinger.com/) I’ve discovered some hiking trips that leave the city to visit parts of the Great Wall, the Ming Tombs, and other fancy places that are relatively inexpensive. Our friend Matt, a fellow ex-pat hailing from North Carolina, also told us about a really fun zip line trip to the Great Wall that we should check out.

We’re looking forward to these things, and the anticipation is helping us get out of our culture shock induced funk. We just need to keep our eye on our spending when it comes to making these trips. For now, we’re on a tight budget, which does limit what we can do when the mood strikes us.

Things are cheap (relative to NY) in Beijing, but when you are spending more than you are earning it makes you feel every Kwai/Yuan/RMB that leaves your pocket. Right now, I am making 150 RMB an hour teaching English, but my schedule usually only amounts to about 4.5 – 6 hours per week. That’s not bad, but we need to pay for rent, food, and expenses at home as well. Luckily, I am still logging some hours for my old job at From Nature With Love, though keeping up with it is challenging with our unpredictable schedule, so lately I haven’t been able to dedicate as much time as I’d like to that job either. Hopefully, Bobleo will get a teaching gig soon, and will start making a little something from shows when the band starts getting gigs as well.

The band is marching on. They are practicing every day in preparation for their next show. It will be Bobleo’s first show in China, and Jydis’s first show ever! It is a big moment, and we are all hoping that it goes off without a hitch. After the disappointment of not getting to play the Modern Sky Festival everyone could use an emotional boost. Even though the band wasn’t allowed to play, Bobleo and I visited for the first day of the festival, and Daly visited for each day it went on. The stage and scenery was very cool. It’s a shame that the guys never got a chance to perform on it, but at least they can look forward to being a part of it next time. You can see photos from our visit to the Modern Sky Fest here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/drstrangeglove/sets/72157622416338673/

Despite our hermit-ness lately, we have been out and about some. If you want to see photos from that, check out the link here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/drstrangeglove/sets/72157622416344059/

So along with vowing to get out more, and keep trying to acclimate, I’m also going to make an effort to update the blog more. After all, I do have a lot to share. Beijing is different from home in so many ways. The idea of describing the things that make it so is a bit overwhelming, but I’m going to try. To sum it up quickly, I’ll just use one word: crazy.

See you later, alligators.

I’m experiencing my first bits of culture shock on the flight. The two ladies I’ve been interacting with are both very nice, warm, and seem to also be effortlessly funny. The first, was seated next to me while I was in the middle row. She was a woman somewhere around my age who was returning to Beijing from a business meeting in D.C. We exchanged broken small talk in English, and giggled together as our fellow passengers struggled to make sense of the seating. A short bit later, an older lady sat on my right. She did not speak English, and I did not speak Chinese, but for some reason both of seemed compelled to talk anyway, she in her language, me in mine. Giggles, smiles, and blank stares filled the spaces in between her antics. She kept hopping on and off her seat to get things in and out of the overhead compartment. After she was satisfied with her packing above, she proceeded to cover her seat with a mountain of clothes, then sit on top of it. As the crew went over their safety presentation, I helped her figure out the seat buckle. (She needed a lot of extra room due to the clothing cushion under her rear.) During the safety show, I smiled and paid keen attention to the male flight attendant closest to us. It must have paid off, because right after their presentation ended, he offered me one of the open window seats! Yee haw! So instead of being crammed, and I do mean crammed, between my two newest friends for fourteen hours, I was allowed to stretch out across two empty seats, and gaze out of the window as the world passed below us. This was exactly what I’d hoped for.

I love to fly, and nothing ices that particular cupcake better than a window seat. The blanket of clouds outside is incredibly beautiful in and of itself, but the tiny windows of landscape that peek through capture my attention completely. I am probably in danger of hurting my neck due my constant peering. Because we are traveling just ahead of the sun, this entire 14 hour flight will be during daylight hours. Ever since Fro took posted his pictures of Siberia, taken with his camera phone, I have been aching to see it for myself. There are some places, the arctic circle, for example, that I may never get a better glimpse of. To me, the chance to soak up even a glimpse of something so glorious, is well worth a crick in the neck. My new friend, let’s call her Mrs. Chinese Lady, appreciates it as well. She came by for a visit so that she could peak out the window too.