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Old Chengdu Club

Posted on May 20, 2011 | Leave a comment

On Friday night Jeff and I got the chance to indulge in some amazing massages and a seriously delicious dinner at the Old Chengdu Club. The Club’s website heralds it as combining “the best tradition of service, hospitality, and friendliness,” radiating the “sentiment of yester-years;” up until Friday we only knew it as the place that denied us entrance when we stumbled upon it back in September while exploring the area around Wenshu Monastery. As a foreigner in Chengdu, rejection is an uncommon feeling, so we were mildly put off by the exclusivity (yet intrigued by what the hell could be so great about the place that they were in a position to reject laowai).

Jeff attended a Cinco de Mayo party there 2 weeks ago hosted by the Singapore Chamber of Commerce, and managed to win some vouchers for knowing the answers to some pretty challenging “Mexican” trivia (like what does “cinco de mayo” mean…). Although we experienced a slightly mortifying moment discovering the massage vouchers didn’t actually cover the entire cost of the massage, I was overall blown away by the service and facilities at the Spa of the club – it was quite possibly the nicest massage experience, ever. This was likely because we each had not one but TWO people massaging us at the same time …. a bizarre sensory experience that felt amazing but kept me from my normal tendency to fall asleep mid-massage because it just felt so counterintuitive to have 4 hands symmetrically massaging your body. It was intense, and a little weird, but overall awesome.

After the massages we headed to the Japanese Restaurant at the club (they also have a Chinese, Korean, and Western resataurant) which we were told served up the best Japanese in town. Our gift certificates were for the “japanese barbeque” for 2 people, so we never looked at a menu or made any decisions regarding what we ate. Sometimes, this method works out in your culinary favor and sometimes this does not. Luckily this dinner was an example of  the former – it consisted of about 6 or 7 mini courses ranging from fresh sashimi tuna and salmon on ice to perfectly seared slices of beef to an exquisite miso soup, and a few others in between. The desert was a lovely plate of fresh dragon fruit and watermelon, with a bean curd custard on the side which was fluffy and the perfect palate cleanser. I would particularly commend the restaurant for their fresh ginger (ha, ha) and perfectly head-numbing wasabi, 2 accoutrements I have found completely unsatisfactory at other Japanese restuarants I have visited in Chengdu. My only criticism of the restaurant would be when they brought literal meaning to the phrase “ice cold beer” with several cubes bobbing around in my Asahi. I realize this was only done in attempts to please the bizarre chilled-beverage-loving foreigners, but I mean seriously – why would you ever put ice in a beer. Luckily there was enough delicious food to distract me. We also had the privelage of sharing a cup of sake with the manager of the Club – a very hospitable Austrailian guy who was filling us in on how much the Club has changed the past few months under his management, and how he wants to create an atmosphere that is more accessible and foreigner-friendly. He seems to be accomplishing his goal, as I will whole heartedly recommend a visit to the Old Chengdu Club. There may not be much that’s actually old  about it, but it is a fantastic getaway from the chaos of Chengdu – and the “Duet” massage will actually change your life  - I’d just suggest a price check in advance :)

yumsashimi.

a mighty pretty dessert

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TGIF

Posted on March 20, 2011 | Leave a comment

the greenest

It was a good Friday. To speed along the recovery from a debaucherous Saint Patrick’s Day, my friend Werner and I decided to get foot massages after both claiming to know the best place in our neighborhood. As it turned out, we were talking about the same spot – an unadorned store front on a side street near our apartment complexes where reflexology posters line the walls and a variety of baths and herbs are offered to heal whatever state your feet are in. This time my masseause was a burly middle-aged Chinese man with a slight twitch to his massage tactics;  at first it was unnerving but after 15 minutes I was half-comatose, my feet in a sublime state of zen (slightly painful zen). The price for an hour worth of foot rubbing with a neck and shoulder massage thrown in? 35 RMB – or $5.25.

After the massage we went  to Little Bar – a place I’d heard about since arriving in Chengdu but hadn’t yet been.   The bar lives up to its name – it’s very small – but many consider it the best live music venue in Chengdu and last night didn’t seem to be an exception. Aside from the politely-moshing Chinese youngsters, the vibe was reminiscent of a low-key NYC venue; there was nowhere you could stand that you couldn’t see the stage, and the small crowd made the show much more intimate. The band playing Friday was a Chinese punk group called The Subs – the lead singer was appropriately decked out in punk lace and her energy and stage presence was completely disproportionate to her small size. Her band mates were equally engaged and I was impressed by their music and the reaction it aroused from the eager crowd. I will definitely make Little Bar a larger part of my social life.

After the show a bunch of us went to a hole-in-the-wall Korean restaurant that once I find the name and address of I will certainly post and endorse. We sat shoe-less and indian-style around a low table and ate an excessive amount of kimchi and Korean dishes I had never tried before, plus Soju which tastes like a mouth explosion of sake and baijiu. As the group started dwindling, what remained of us headed to Machu Picchu – another bar I have heard about for months but never checked out. It’s a very small place that also has frequent live (acoustic) music,  run by a friendly Dutch guy whose signature shot is apparently now spreading across Chengdu: “Russian Cocaine” – bite down on a slice of lemon covered in coffee grinds and sugar and then throw back a shot of Russian vodka. It does the trick. The bar draws an interesting crowd and also feels like a little break from China, inside China.

jen.wern.eitan.

It was a good way to start the weekend; today we have the Peach Blossom run for the Hash and then Tuesday night my mom and brother come visit for a week. I am SO EXCITED!

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Wenshu Monastery Vegetarian Restaurant

Posted on March 8, 2011 | 1 Comment

Wenshu Monastery is one of the more authentic spots on the tourist trail in this city. It is the best preserved Buddhist temple in Chengdu, and walking through the grounds actually feels quite tranquil (a rare feeling). The different pavilions host a multitude of artwork, calligraphy, paintings, and cultural relics that date back hundreds of years. We’ve explored the monastery before but this past Sunday we ventured over there exclusively for the food – just inside the entrance to the monastery there is a vegetarian restaurant  that is acclaimed to be the best in Chengdu. I have nothing to compare it to because, like tranquility, vegetarian restaurants are few and far between in this city, but my brother (an avid vegetarian) and mom are coming to visit in 2 weeks so I’ve been trying to scope out the spots I won’t have to use my bad Chinese to make sure there is no meat in the vegetable dishes.

The restaurant was packed on a Sunday afternoon, and we waited a solid half hour to sit down, which was well worth it. The menu is extensive and includes pictures and english captions – most of the dishes are reminiscent of what you’d find on any Sichuan menu only here the “diced rabbit,” “hamburger meat,” and even “sea cucumber” are just imitations made with some vegetable-bean curd-gluten product. There was also a lot on the menu that I’d never seen or heard of before – like sliced lotus soaked in orange juice which I will definitely be trying when I return. We ordered 5 dishes between the two of us and it was more than enough food but still cost just under 100 kuai ($15). We picked at random knowing we’ll be back soon to try another round. The dishes not shown below that we also ordered were: tiny potatoes and vegetables cooked with fake hot dogs in a not-spicy sauce (decent), chewy sesame-covered pumpkin cakes, and spears of raw cucumber in a vinegar sauce with sea kelp, which was so.refreshingly.delicious. The meal was worth the trip, the cost, and the wait. I was pleasantly surprised with how effortlessly they turned out authentic tasting Sichuan dishes with no traces of meat. A +.

battered and fried mushrooms cooked with chillies

 

fresh walnuts with greens

spicy, cold buckwheat noodles

Outside the gates of the monastery the “folk cultural experiencing zone” is much cooler than it’s name suggests. There are tons of vendors with the standard trinkets, jewelry, and “antiques” as well as a wide array of street food. We did get milk tea and sugar cane juice (Jeff’s crack) but we were too full to properly sample all the Chengdu snacks, which are incredibly spelled out for you  here.

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papaya, please.

Posted on February 20, 2011 | 1 Comment

In one of the most delicious weeks to date, we were taken out again Friday night to an amazing, high-brow Sichuan restaurant.  For these communal meals (I like to call them Lazy Susan Sessions), it’s all about the ordering, and our host did an incredible job. Usually, alongside the delicious dishes there are plenty we try to avoid – like tripe cooked every which way, or gelatinous blood with vegetables, or the disconcerting way that they serve small birds with their heads completely on – but this guy kept it palatable, but diverse. We ate everything, although it did feel weird to try roast dove. Kind of like we were eating peace. The most memorable, unusual dish, deserving in itself of a blog post, was the his + hers course – a unique concept because to some it would seem quite sexist for a waiter to present two very different looking plates to the men and women of the table. But I seriously lucked out in being a chick last night:

This is a double boiled papaya, with a jellied fungus soup. It took me 20 minutes and almost half the papaya to figure out that it was in fact, a papaya. Google informs me it is not a typical Sichuan dish, though jellied fungus soup is quite common in most places. It’s supposedly very good for the woman’s Shenti (health) and Jenny told me it makes you beautiful. I told her in that case I would eat one every day because they are so delicious, but she balked at the suggestion and said “NO! It only makes you beautiful if you have it twice a year!” (But according to her I should also cut out cold beverages entirely if I ever plan to have a child. I could write a book on the bizarre Chinese rules of eating and drinking). The soup was served with honey and coconut milk to pour inside – combined with the soft fleshy papaya and sweet broth of the jellied fungus, it was absolutely delicious, and unlike anything I’ve ever had before. It wasn’t overly sweet, and the boiling of the papaya altered its taste beyond recognition- at first I thought it was some relative of a sweet potato or yam, without the heavy starchiness. As a side note, Jenny also informed me that each papaya ran at about 300 kuai ($45), a price that would seem steep even in America. So I guess I can’t get used to it. I really lucked out with this delicacy – to my left Jeff had to dutifully suck down the man’s dish: a slimy, gelatinous Sea Cucumber covered in tentacles , in a murky brown sauce. It was only delicately implied that its suggestive form was good for a man’s … well, if Jenny didn’t spell it out for me, I certainly won’t spell it out for you.

i call this chinese baklava

dumplings dumplings dumplings

 

what remained of tender, juicy ribs.

spicy rabbit with melon

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baijiu bonanza

Posted on February 17, 2011 | 2 Comments

the cheap stuff

Last night we went out to the type of dinner that starts at 6 and ends after 11. I’m traditionally a big fan of 4 hour dinners, because they usually involve a lot of amazing food, but in my experience they’ve never involved 2 large handles of Baijiu (a clear liquor that is made from sorghum, often mistakenly translated as “white wine”…. it’s not). Chinese drinking culture is an interesting thing, especially to me because I love culture. And I love drinking.

I was discussing this at dinner last night with my (Chinese) friend Jenny. She asked me (for the 4th of 5th time) why foreigners like drinking alcohol so much. She gathers this impression from the movies, from her limited interaction with foreigners, and from the fact that during our week long China road trip back in October, once 5 pm rolled around Jeff and I always were asking for or already carrying a beer (it was vacation!).

the post-"gan bei"-expression

In China, the consumption of alcohol is much less of a normal, social thing and more traditionally tied to business – the theory exists that you can’t truly trust your business associates or potential clients until you’ve all gotten sufficiently wasted. So, Chinese business dinners often turn into 3 or 4 hour sessions of “Gan Bei”-ing with your Baijiu glass (informal translation: “Cheers”; direct translation: “Drink it all”) And they mean it – if you’re going to “Gan Bei,” it’s disrespectful to not finish what your holding. We explained last night that calling it a toast isn’t very accurate, because in America  a toast is not always about emptying your shot glass of 140 proof alcohol, it’s usually about taking a good sip of whatever it is you feel like drinking, in honor of whatever it is you feel like toasting to. It’s not obligatory, and it’s not repeated over and over throughout the meal. And while alcohol is certainly tied to business in America in some ways, it’s not usually a part of the business process, or exclusive to it. You get drunk after the deal is done, not as a prerequisite to the signing.

I was also reminded after my 2nd shot of baijiu that women are not expected and rarely do participate in the baijiu bingeing (for the record, it is a truly nasty tasting liquor and we were drinking one of the best bottles of it). It’s strange to me because when Jenny was asking me about foreigners affection for alcohol she was implying (in a curious, not mean way)  that we have much more of a problem with or dependence on alcohol which, in a certain sense, we do. But as Jeff and I reflected this morning – our heads aching just thinking about the Baijiu –   when the Chinese do drink they binge drink – the exact type of drinking we are taught in school and implored by our parents in America not to do. Basically Chinese dinner drinking could be compared to frat party drinking, or the general college mentality of getting completely smashed. I can’t count on two hands the number of times we’ve been walking down the street and watched a grown man in a suit, balancing on the arms of his colleagues or friends, puking his brains out into a garbage can or even better right on the sidewalk. Of course, young people drink here too, but even that is a more recent generational trend and arguably not as common as it is for young people in America. It’s an interesting contrast, and these are just my observations, based on limited experience and what’s been relayed to me by my Chinese friends. I am no authority on the topic, and to become one I’d have to suffer through a lot more Baijiu.

my FAVORITE dish ... fresh, meaty walnuts with chives

At any rate, last night was hilarious and so much fun - it was to celebrate introducing our (Chinese) friends Jenny and H with our (American) friend Walter, who amazes them with his Chinese language ability. They took us to a really traditional, famous Sichuan restaurant in Chengdu and while the food was very, very good it was the company and the experience that had most of my attention. We are so lucky to have met Jenny and H, and though it was admittedly initially exhausting for me to be friends with a couple we had such communication problems with, after 5 months we’ve all gotten to know each other so well – somehow defying the serious language and cultural barriers that seemed so imposing at first.

At the end of the night, I had Walter ask H if I had offended him with my karaoke skills last weekend because I distincly remember glancing over at H throughout the night, his face frozen in surprise?/ embarassment?/ awe? when I was dancing around and singing (like most of my friends would do in the same situation). The answer H gave Walter was not directly yes or no, and the translation relayed back to me went something like this… Well, Clara, it is true that you are unlike most Chinese girls, because most Chinese girls would not get up and jump around on the couches while singing karaoke. But we are friends, and I have known you a long time, and I know you are a liberal (read: wild), open (read: crazy) girl and I know you were just having a good time. As hard as we all laughed after his diplomatic response, it made me reflect on the significance of our close friendship with two people raised so differently from us, used to such different types of people, ways of life, and views on the world:  as much of a difference as Jenny and H are making in our lives here in Chengdu, we are changing theirs as well – just by being unlike anyone else they’ve ever known.

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