Chinese Food For Thought

Here’s a little tidbit of information from China that you may find hard to believe. I know I’m finding it that way. There are no egg-rolls! None. At least none that I’ve found, so far.
There is plenty of food, however. Here in Guangzhou, restaurants are everywhere. Our hotel, the Yihe, is about twenty minutes outside of town. It’s a beautiful hotel, designed in a Japanese-resort sort of way. There are four restaurants here. One, which is on top of a mountain behind the hotel, is designed to resemble a Pagoda. The folks here at the Yihi have named it The Pagoda. I can understand why. There is also a barbecue hut, which, for some reason doesn’t open until nine in the evening. I’ve never seen it, but it’s called The Barbecue Hut. There are two primary restaurants attached to the hotel. One is a Western-style restaurant (not cowboys and Indians type western, just opposed to Far Eastern), and the other serves Chinese food. The creative minds here at the Yihe named the Western-style restaurant, Western Style Restaurant. Want to guess the name of the Chinese-style restaurant?
These are the only two restaurants in which I’ve eaten here in Guangzhou. I’ve passed a great many others. There’s one restaurant, not too far from the hotel that serves a variety of meat and fish dishes. Interestingly, it has pictures, of the animals it serves, painted on the window. There is a picture of a rabbit, so wild game must be on the menu. There is also a picture of a lobster. That sounds good. There are also pictures of a dog and a cat. I’m sticking to the hotel restaurants.
Even at the hotel, as you enter the restaurant, you pass the kitchen area. This is by design, evidently, perhaps in order to whet one’s appetite. There, hanging in the window, is the typical dead chicken, with her little head tucked up under her neck. My appetite is sufficiently whetted.
One of the businessmen in our group, a builder named James, from Virginia Beach, has spent considerable time in China, visiting many of its factories. He tells of a restaurant in a rather remote area in which he once dined. He said that many of the items in the refrigerator-less facility were totally unidentifiable, so he settled on half a chicken. What he received was exactly half a chicken, including half a neck, half a head, even half a tongue. And, says James, “It was bright yellow, just like those rubber chickens you see.” James also told me he was so hungry, he ate that whole half a yellow chicken.
He said in that particular restaurant, if the patrons didn’t like something they were eating, they’d simply spit in on the floor. Now, that’s a Chinese tradition, I’d like to institute at home.
As you enter the hotel restaurants, you’re greeted by at least six or seven smiling waitresses and/or hostesses. The waitresses are always in some cute, modest uniform. The hostesses wear colorful Chinese kimonos (if that’s what they call them in China). They then proceed to escort you to your table. And, I do mean THEY. While one might expect one of the ladies to escort you, here, they all lead you. And, it’s like they’re oblivious to each other. They’re all pointing to an empty table, sometimes they’re pointing to different tables. I told someone I felt like I had been gang-waitressed.
Some of the waitresses speak pretty good English. Others speak none. Ordering can be a real adventure. Fortunately, many items on the bi-lingual menu have pictures. But, even when you point to the picture and the item in Chinese characters, they seem to be confused. It’s as if they don’t realize we’re saying we’d like to order this. They point at the items. They get this puzzled little look on their faces. They often go get another waitress to come and point and get a puzzled look on her face too. I’m not sure if they’re really that unaware that we’re in the process of ordering, or if they’re playing a little game to see how frustrated Americans can get.
I don’t think it’s the latter, because they seem very sensitive to our emotions. They like it when we smile and say “Taste good" (a la Tonto). But, if we are displeased with something, they continuously bow and apologize and bow some more. We had one young hostess yesterday who almost broke down in tears. I was really worried about her. Not too worried that I can’t eat, however. I’m on my way to breakfast now. I’m looking forward to some baked beans and corn on the cob.