Blooming Beijing

There are many ways you could describe the city of Beijing, but by no stretch of the imagination could you ever call it beautiful. It is not.  In fact as a whole it is a down-right unattractive city, though, like the Curate’s egg, it is good in parts.

In March this year I had the good fortune to meet the author Lionel Shriver at a book reading here in BJ where she launched her new novel ‘Big Brother’ at the Bookworm International Literary Festival.  There was a reasonable turn-out of ex-pats,

and at the end of her session she spent as much time questioning us about life in BJ as we did asking her questions about her writing.  Shriver had arrived in China the previous day, and was horrified by BJ and by the air-pollution.

Now she has set the cat among the pigeons by writing two articles excoriating the city.  In one she says ‘it is the ugliest city I have ever seen’, and ‘Beijing is like a modern-day Gomorrah. It’s like an urban venereal disease. Beijing is the city Detroit looks to when it wants to feel better about itself.’  Don’t mince your words Lionel!

I’ve only lived here for three years, but I found my hackles rising when I read what she had said – well I would wouldn’t I?  since she also said she couldn’t trust us ex-pats because ‘they had over-adapted to their dystopic town and could no longer see it.’  

I grew up in what is (in my opinion) the most beautiful city in the world, Cape Town,

so it is somewhat ironic that I find myself wanting to stand up for this crazy, hazy megalopolis of 22 million souls which has developed in place of the ancient Manchu city that was here before 1949.

There are surprising pockets of visual pleasure to be seen here – and in summer one of them is the roses.  From mid-May onwards, BJ is awash with roses, blooming lavishly down the center of the ring roads and express-ways,

on traffic islands, in parks, at the corner of streets, in big pots in the hutongs and  in  101 places you’d never expect to see a rose.

Lionel wouldn’t have seen roses in March; but then she never even made the time to visit the Summer Palace,  to stroll down a hutong, view the Egg and other examples of stunning modern architecture – such as Zaha Hadid’s Galaxy Soho complex.

Heaven’s above – she didn’t even go to see the Great Wall.

I felt as though someone had insulted a member of my family.

East meets West on a plate – Yangmei coulis with Panna Cotta

Last week I had people for dinner and whilst pondering what to serve I decided that each course should have a ‘Chinese’ component.

For the pudding (which is what the British call dessert) I decided to experiment with one of my favourite Chinese fruits – yangmei  杨梅, because it has just come into season.  I searched the internet for recipes using yangmei and found nothing apart from some cocktail concoctions. So I had a clean slate to do what I wanted.

I decided to make a classic Italian Panna Cotta – panna cotta means ‘cooked cream’ – which is a wonderfully smooth cool dessert which just slips down the throat. It is usually served with a fruit ‘coulis’ or sauce, and I thought I would make a yangmei coulis to go with it.

Now I must give you a bit of information about yangmei.  Myrica rubra has been known in China for over 2000 years, in English the fruit has various names: Chinese Bayberry, Wax Berry, Red Bayberry, and it’s juice is now marketed in the west under the name Yumberry. Rich in anti-oxidants, yangmei is sometimes discribed as tasting like a strawberry/raspberry cross. The trees on which the fruits grow often line the streets in southern China. Each tree is either male or female and for pollination they need to be near one-another.

Each fruit is slightly smaller than a walnut and has a bumpy surface. The yangmei ranges in colour from light red to a deep purple, with the later being the most prized for eating as fruit. In the centre of each fruit is a pit, not unlike a cherry stone and of similar size. The fruit has no removeable skin, you eat it all apart from the pit. The bumpy surface is because each fruit consists of thousands of tiny ‘seeds’ on the exterior surface each contained within a juicy fibre which runs from the surface and attaches to the pit.

OK – enough background information!  Here is my recipe:

YANGMEI COULIS

250g fresh ripe yangmei (approx 20 fruit)                                                                                  50g caster sugar                                                                                                                                    60mls water                                                                                                                                        1 Tablespoon cornflour

Rinse the yangmei under running water to remove any dust or dirt,  place in a heavy-bottomed saucepan together with the sugar and water  over medium heat.  As the sugar starts to dissolve increase the heat slightly so that the fruit start to cook and break down. Using a wooden spoon mash the fruit  until it is all a pulp. Cook for a few moments then remove from the heat and pass through a sieve – use the wooden spoon to get the maximum amount of juice/puree from the fruit, place the juice in a  clean pan. Put the cornflour in a small bowl, add a tablespoon of cold water and a tablespoon of the yangmei juice. Blend together and then add this mixture to the bulk of the yangmei juice in the pan. Whisk together and then heat over a medium temperature, stirring constantly, whilst the juice thickens and comes to the boil. Immediately remove from the heat, pour into a bowl and allow to cool.

PANNA COTTA  – serves 4-6

500 mls double cream                                                                                                                          50g caster sugar                                                                                                                                      1 teaspoon Vanilla extract                                                                                                                    45 mls cold water                                                                                                                                    1 sachet (10g) powdered gelatine                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Lightly oil (with neutral flavoured oil) 6 small bowls, cups or ramekins.

Put the cold water into  a good-sized bowl, sprinkle the gelatine powder on the water and let it sponge for 5/10 minutes.

Put the cream and the sugar together into a  saucepan and heat gently, stirring constantly until all the sugar has dissolved. Stir in the vanilla extract.

Let the cream and sugar  mixture come to a temperature just below boiling. Do NOT allow it to boil. Pour the hot cream/vanilla mixture over the sponged gelatine and stir until the gelatine is completely dissolved.  Pour this mixture into the prepared cups and place in the fridge for at least 4 hours to chill and firm.

To serve, run a knife round the inside of the cups and turn the panna cottas out onto individual plates. Pour a puddle of yangmei coulis round each one and garnish with some slices of fresh yangmei and a sprig of mint.

Baby Milk Formula vs Breast Milk in China

If you are only going to have a single child, as most Chinese couples do, then it is axiomatic that you want the very, very best for your one ewe lamb – and not only you, but your parents and in-laws want the same.   This is one of the reasons behind the crazy situation where smugglers are bringing tins of foreign baby formula into China and selling it to anxious mums and dads (as though it were heroin or cocaine) for ever-increasing prices.

To understand why this is happening you have to know something about Chinese food scandals (and the hysteria they unleash) and about the way the growing Chinese middle class are desperate to be ‘modern’, ‘western’ etc.

I have talked to lots of  women – new mums, pregnant women, newly weds etc, and to two  women who are eminent obstetrician/gynaecologists here in Beijing, to get answers to some of my questions.   What I have discovered, anecdotal though it may be, is this:

Young, educated, middle-class women believe that breast-feeding will make their boobs saggy (myth). They have listened to the prolific advertising for baby formula put out by  manufacturers and buy into the belief that baby formula is better for babies than breast milk.

In 2008 there was a massive scandal about a few brands of Chinese manufactured baby formula.  After thousands of  babies became ill with serious kidney problems, and six babies died, it was discovered that these particular brands had been made from milk which had been adulterated with melamine.  The bottom dropped out of the Chinese baby formula market overnight.

New legislation and rigorous testing was set in place, and all baby milk formula sold here now passes the new regulations.  However public confidence in Chinese baby milk has not recovered, partly because the western manufacturers subtly play on parental fears, and because clever self-publicists such as Ai Wei Wei  and others have used the scandal of four years ago to have a dig at the government, thus prolonging public anxiety.

Because of the scandal, western baby formulas were what every family wanted for their babies.
The manufacturers – such as Nestle, Danone, and SMA – amongst others – seized on the situation with glee. They have ramped up their advertising, handing out free samples in hospitals and clinics up and down the land. Some of their advertising gives serious pause for thought.

According to Buy Buy China, the prices of western baby formula  are marked up to four times their level in the USA or Europe;  this means that a single can of western baby formula costs between 200 -400 RMB ( UK £20-40) a humongous amount of money.  Family members who are abroad have been roped in to buy cans and bring them back into China – some have been going from supermarket to supermarket buying up all the available formula and filling their suitcases with it. Sharp operators, keen to make money, have been quick off the mark doing the same thing.

Now the Hong Kong government has made it illegal for anyone to buy more than two cans of formula at any one time.  Some UK shops are doing the same.  Hysteria reigns supreme.

In all this brouhaha one thing seems to have been overlooked. Breast is best.   All new mothers come equipped with two breasts which produce milk.

In the west, the middle and upper classes would not dream of feeding their newborns with formula, they know it is better for a baby (and a mother) if it is breastfed for at least the first few months of life.  [Needless to say, there are some women who are unable to breast-feed for one reason or another and for them formula is a godsend.] On the whole it is the lower socio-economic group mothers who do not breast feed – the exact opposite of what is happening here in China.  Those Chinese women who buck the trend and decide they will breast-feed are often ignorant about the value of colostreum, the ‘early’ milk which is produced by the human breast  before the real milk kicks in,and which contains so many  anti-bodies vital to the long-term health of the new-born infant. In those first two or three days the infant is usually fed with formula whilst the colostreum is discarded,  and the baby has grown accustomed to bottle feeding,

In China the ignorance about the advantages of breast-feeding is overwhelming. Breast feeding is not discussed prior to the infant’s birth, there are few breast-feeding councellors, nurses and other hospital staff do not encourage it.  Because of its long history of food shortages, many Chinese believe a fat baby is a healthier baby. At Chinese New Year, cards depicting fat babies are routinely sent to friends and acquaintances as a chubby  infant symbolises a good year ahead.   Many grandmothers -who are all important in this situation – believe that baby formula is better because they can feed the infant themselves, and give him/her extra if needed and the baby will be  fatter and healthier as a result.

What China needs is the National Childbirth Trust or the equivalent thereof.

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

This week some friends and  I went on a jaunt to a town called Jingbian which is in the north east of Shaanxi Province.  It was a fascinating trip for lots of reasons two of which were ‘firsts’ for me. 

To get to Jingbian I  flew from NanYuan Airport in south Beijing – it is BJ’s major military airport, and I flew with China United Airlines which was established by the People’s Liberation Army, and although since 2003 it is mostly owned by civilian companies it is still permitted to use military airports.  The flight took me to Yulin and from there it was a two hour drive west through the edge of the great desert area towards Inner Mongolia.

In Jingbian we were treated most hospitably and at one of the lavish meals there was a dish of something that looked strange but yet familiar.

I asked if it was sliced liver (goat and pig are the predominant meats eaten in the Shanbei region) and was told that it was a dish of braised cockscombs – specially chosen for us as honoured guests.   Of course that meant I had to put a smile on my face, pick up a cockscomb with my chopsticks and eat it with a big smile of pleasure – otherwise both I and my hosts would have lost face.

Actually it wasn’t too bad, soft texture, a bit like calves liver, without any particularly strong flavour  – it was just the idea of it that I found distasteful.  It was all about my head rather than my taste buds.  I have subsequently learned that the Italians are also partial to eating cockscombs.  They are fiddly to prepare as you have to remove the tough outer skin of the comb before cooking them, this is usually done by the poulterer and so they are not particularly cheap.

The Chinese are famed for not wasting any part of an animal and really that is admirable, if you are going to kill a living creature in order to eat it, you should really respect it by eating everything possible. We in the west are horribly wasteful with food, but cultural conditioning when it comes to eating is very deeply ingrained and hard to overcome.

Jeepers creepers…where’d ya get them peepers?

In early spring each year thousands of young hopefuls apply for places at China’s drama colleges.  Here in Beijing there are two particularly prestigious institutions, the Central Academy of Drama, and Beijing Film Academy.  Competition for a place is extremely fierce, the CAD had 9000 applicants for 50 places this year, and BJFA was not much better with a mere 75 places and 4569 applicants.

It is no wonder that many applicants will do whatever it takes to improve their chances. Many resort to plastic surgery in the hope of ‘improving’ their looks and thus gaining an advantage.  The most popular surgical procedure with young female wannabe’s (as with millions of other young Chinese women who want to improve their job prospects) is blepheroplasty – the operation which creates a double-fold eyelid.  This makes the eye open wider and appear rounder, and is considered  extremely attractive.

Why young Chinese (and Korean) women are so keen to have their eyelids altered in this way is something I have been pondering. It seems to me that it is because wide-eyed girls are thought to look ‘cuter’,  and looking cute in Asia is a particularly desirable trait. Cute is seen as vulnerable, young, innocent, and charming, and by contrast makes men seem/feel more manly, protective and caring.  Therefore many of the cartoon characters of little girls and/or animals (think Hello Kitty) used in advertising here in China are cute little moppets with Big Round Eyes!

Believe me, there is a whole PhD waiting to be written on the psychology of ‘cuteness’.  But, back to the eyes…

Blepheroplasty does not come cheap (although it is much cheaper here than in the west), the cost per eye is between 4000 -8000 yuan [£400-800], and it is usually paid for by the girl’s parents or grandparents -  when she leaves school it is often given as a graduation present/investment.                                                                                                                           For many young women this surgery is financially beyond their reach, and so they resort to other  means to achieve the wide-eyed look.

In the cosmetic and beauty departments of most shops and supermarkets you can find a range of little DIY kits which will give the user a temporary double-fold eyelid by means of a clear double-sided sticker.  The kit usually contains a number of these stickers together with a small plastic wand, forked at one end, which is used to put the sticker in the right place, needless to say it has to be carefully positioned.  The eyelid is then folded back on to the sticker and pressed down lightly to create a double fold.

 

 

 

Or you can buy eyelid glue – which strikes me as rather worrying – what if you got it in your eye?  

All the famous Chinese film and TV stars (not to mention pop singers) such as Gong Li,      Li Bingbing and Yin Tao,  have ‘western’ eyes – whether naturally or with the aid of surgery I know not, but the message to all girls is clear – to succeed in life you need to have your eyes wide open in every sense of the word.

Anchun dan 鹌鹑蛋 – Quails’ eggs are delicious

Until I came to live in China I could count the number of times I’d encountered Quails’ eggs on one hand. Now I seem to buy and cook them regularly.  I recall that the first time I had them was at a posh Cambridge cocktail party, soon after I had arrived from Africa, still wet behind the ears! A pile of them were served on a silver tray together with a small dish of celery salt to dip them in.

They are pretty wee things, with their mottled shells, and very useful.  It helps that they are widely available here and fairly cheap, whereas in the UK they are not so common, and jolly expensive. I can buy them loose, by weight, at the market – or 2 dozen in an egg-box at the supermarket.  They keep for a week to ten days at room temperature, but in my case they are always used long before then.

What do I use them for? … usually I hard boil them and then they can be served as a snack/canapé a la Cambridge and its silver tray, or I halve them and add them to a fish pie or cauliflower cheese. They make a Salade Niçoise look rather elegant, and when wrapped in sausage meat then dipped in beaten egg and breadcrumbs and fried they make the cutest little Scotch Eggs.

Here in China they are a common street food served by Muslim Chinese – Kao anchun dan are grilled quails eggs  on a skewer – usually four or five of them – slathered with sesame paste and chilli oil – Yum!

If you really want to push the boat out for a starter, a little tartlette of leeks  topped with a quail’s egg before being baked is quite impressive.

The shells are quite tough, and so they have a reputation of being difficult to peel.   If you use my fool-proof method you will find that it is a doddle.                                                    Bring a saucepan of water to the boil, when and when. boiling rapidly tip the eggs in gently. Don’t try to do more than 20 at a time.                                                                             Set your timer for 3 minutes.                                                                                                    Remove any eggs that float and chuck them out -  I once had a vrot* egg that had floated.  Put a colander in the sink, and have a large bowl with cold water in it to hand.

When the timer indicates they have had their 3 minutes, scoop them out and put them into the colander and run cold water over them for a few moments.  Then, one by one, remove them from the colander, roll and press them on the work surface so that the shell cracks all over and place them in the bowl of cold water.  Now you can leave them until you are ready to shell them.   The shells will come off really easily. Pat the shelled eggs dry with a piece of kitchen towel.

There you have it, easy peasy.

In fact that technique works for shelling any egg. The reason being that between the shell and the egg itself is a membrane.  As the cooked egg cools, the membrane tightens and effectively shrink-wraps the egg which makes it hard to remove the shell without damaging the egg white. If you crack the shell and membrane whilst the egg is still hot, the cold water gets in between them and the egg and it is simplicity to peel.

Get some quails’ eggs and get going …you’ll be hooked too.

* South African slang for rotten/bad

Farewell Iron Lady – 送别 铁娘子 – sòng bié tiě niáng zǐ

I have been watching TV reports and reading with interest all the brickbats and bouquets being thrown at Margaret Thatcher the former British Prime Minister who died last week.

She was a formidable woman of strong principles who had a clear vision of what she thought Britain should be.  During her eleven and a half years in office she changed Britain for ever, and she also had a profound effect on the rest of the world.  Needless to say, some of the actions she took enraged sections of the population who still regard her as tantamount to the devil incarnate.  Much of the criticism is based on ill-informed mythology but some of it is very understandable.

I was not one of her supporters, but neither was I one of her detractors, and I clearly recall what life in Britain was like in the mid 1970s, and how she injected some much needed vigour into the political process.  Latterly she introduced policies with which I profoundly disagreed, but even so I consider her to have been one of Britain’s most remarkable leaders.

Around the world she gained huge respect and admiration, and many people we have met here are bemused by the crude behaviour and disrespect paid to her by some back in the UK following her death.

Last Friday morning at crack of dawn the DH and I took a taxi to Beijing South Railway station as we were off to Shanghai.  The taxi driver was a pleasant chap – probably in his forties or fifties – who spoke nary a word of English, but was very chatty.  He asked the usual opening questions: were we Americans? no.  Where were we from? Britain. How long were we visiting Beijing for?  we live here.  Were we teachers? no. Were we diplomatic staff? no.  Finally I explained that my husband was a business man working in China.    After a while he suddenly turned to us and said (in Chinese) ‘Maggie Tattcher died’, I told him that we knew that. After some thought he turned again – gave a big thumbs up  and said ‘Maggie Tattcher good woman, very strong’.

So there you have it Margaret Thatcher’s epitaph from a Beijing taxi driver !