End of September 2014, I was grateful to have the good fortune to do a short few months (relatively speaking) backpacking trip with friends and family which included China (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Malaysia, Cambodia, Vietnam, Indonesia, Singapore and Korea. I’ll be writing an 12-part series of the trip on the food that was memorable enough to have made it onto my camera.

China – Part 2

Where? Xi’an, Pingyao

From Guilin we flew into Xi’An which took a couple hours. This city really deserved more than the 36 hours that we gave it. It’s one of the ancient Chinese capitals, terminus of the Silk Road, the holy mountain of Hua Shan is a few hours away and the famed Terracotta Warriors are a few hours away as well. We skipped all that and elected to be in the city to explore the everyday life side of it versus historic sites and sight seeing. It was a really tough decision to make since we didn’t have enough time. But on this trip,  Xi’an was always meant to be the connector to Pingyao, an ancient preserved city which was somehow spared from the destruction of the Cultural Revolution from Mao’s policies.

Nearly everyone has has heard of the Qin Emperor’s famed Terracotta Warriors. The clay statues are only the beginning of it. The tomb itself is of mythical proportions, with legends of flowing mercury rivers, gem encrusted ‘skies’, a giant booby-trapped mausoleum, and the clay army with different faces to rule in the afterlife. But what about Hua Shan? Just in case it doesn’t mean anything to you, go ahead, watch the video. I get intense vertigo just watching this. What astounds me is not the brave people who walk it, but the builders that put it there in the first place. HOW?! How does one even have the energy to build anything, hanging on the cliffside with gravity pulling them down on their mega-ton brass balls?

Luckily for us, Xi’An itself as a city isn’t a soulless bore. Dating back around 200 BCE, it was one of the important capitals of ancient China that served 10 dynasties including the influential Qin, Han and Tang Dynasty. In fact, Chinatown in Chinese is translates to “Tang People Street”, with “Tang People” or people of the Tang dynasty as a another name for identifying Chinese harkening back to the ancient days of stability and progress. Xi’An was one of the original metropolis’ with 1M people in the 700’s. The city limits back then extended out 10x farther than the present day city. It was one of the original cities with a grid structure, an innovation that made it to other imperial capitals such as Kyoto, Japan.

One of the cool things to do there in the short time we had was exploring the massive city walls. They’re still intact and a ton of fun with cool things to learn along the way including the history of the Silk Road, and the history of the Chinese bicycle. I wish we rented some bikes to cycle around the perimeter. I’m certain it would also look quite lovely at night as well!

Jumping on the expansive Xi’An city walls.

Being one of the original cosmopolitan cities meant there were lots of different people going in and out of the city. Muslims came here, settled here and left a mark on its cuisine. One tourist attraction was the Muslim Quarters, or in Xi’An vernacular, Xiao Chi Jie – “Snack Street” which featured many Halal Chinese cuisines in accordance with Islamic law. CNN Travel named it as one of the top 10 street food cities of Asia. It’s an honour that they rightfully live up to as there were some really cool eats there that I got to try in my very short time there.

Exploring the Muslim Quarter in the day time.

I was surprised to discover that there was a strong Muslim presence in Xi’an, it was never a connection I’ve made before. While wandering there, I saw a lot of white caps, headscarves, and Chinese looking people with distinct facial features. Doing more research online, most of the Hui (Muslim) people were descendants of envoys back in the day that settled down and married the Chinese. Now they’re recognized as one of the 56 ethnic groups in China. Fun fact – the family name “Ma” is a common adopted surname for most Muslim people in China, short for Mohammed.

Xi’An Drum Tower

The first and only night there after leaving our bags in our hostel (which was basically the cheapest 3 star hotel I’ve ever stayed at, clocking in at about $7 per person) we hit the Muslim Quarter. It starts around the corner of the Drum Tower and expands from there. The Drum Tower, lit up at night is really a spectacle to behold. The quarter itself springs to life at night and I personally think it is at its best during this time. There are little restaurants and stalls packed to the brim with lineups spreading out into the streets. Throngs of locals and tourists were prowling the streets looking for something tasty to eat while soaking up the nightlife. I found it to be incredibly atmospheric as it draws you into the spirit of the city. There was a strange feeling that washed over me wandering around as it was something so incredibly foreign but familiar at the same time. I felt the same visiting London, UK for the first time since I was thinking Canada was a colony, and that they also spoke English therefore it must be similar. And then only to discover how different it was in customs, culture and language. Here in Xi’An I looked like the locals in the country of my ancestral roots, where I am part of the dominant ethnic majority speaking the language, but yet it was all completely new.

Muslim Quarter of Xi’An

One of the first things I saw on the streets was Biang Noodles (pronounced bee-yang, with the tone rising… like “Hey!” when you see a friend on the street by surprise). It’s apparently a Shaanxi (the province in where Xi’An resides) speciality. The wheat noodles itself comes in long strips. They’re flat, chewy and very thick by noodle standards. It’s topped off with some beef, some chilis, cilantro, peppers, garlic, and chives with a broth of some sort. I didn’t find it to be very remarkable as a dish, but what it is more famous for is how its name is pronounced and written. For one, the sound of it doesn’t exist in standard Mandarin, and is believed to be an onomatopoeia for the eating sounds of the noodles somehow. I haven’t managed to make the same sound eating the noodles. The second thing is that it has the distinction of the most complex contemporary Chinese character at 58 strokes. Check it out and check out the four characters underneath it.

Biang Biang Noodle Sign. The one and only.

Even if you can’t read Chinese, you know what you’re getting here. Biang compared to its mere mortal cousins of Chinese characters. Notice that the serifed typeface doesn’t actually match the rest of the sans serifed characters

Biang Biang Noodles

At the same shop we sampled some roasted spiced lamb kebabs which were very nice. Yang Rou Chaunr. Lamb and goat isn’t really a traditionally popular meat in most Chinese cuisines because of its gaminess. I actually quite like it, and it’s one of my favourite meats. This was 5RMB, I’m loving these cheap street eats!

Here’s a funny accompanying story to the lamb kebab dealing with the transaction and Chinese language.

I speak Mandarin with a Taiwanese bias (but in reality it sounds all over the place with bits and pieces of English, Cantonese and Mainland Chinese influences), so the rhotic “r” sounds at the end of certain words always amuse me as that’s a feature Taiwanese Mandarin does not have. Think how the Brits stereotypically say Water and how Americans say it: Wat-ah vs Wat-terrr. I never really liked this Mandarin R thing at first, but by the end of the China trip I grew a liking to it after being exposed to it everywhere.

So back here in Xi’an at this particular shop, I was giving money to the clerk after the meal. She ‘said’ that she wanted 32 RMB, “San Shi Er”, 3 10 2. I wasn’t at the top of my Chinese game, nor any game at this time of night since I was tired and just wanted to some food. I gave her the 32RMB, but she held the change and she kept repeating “San Shi Er!  San Shi Er!” and started pulling out her calculator. Lady, I counted I gave you 32 RMB already, let me eat my food in peace! So I started counting again tallying up how much we spent and it was actually 30 RMB. My sister’s told me I’m stupid and she wanted 30 RMB, not 32RMB. “San Shi” in my books, but in the Xi’An accent, it is “San Shi-r”. Face palm moment for yours truly right there. How do they say 32 then? Because I swear it sounds exactly the same to me.

Lamb Kebabs aka Yang Rou Chuanrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Kebabs waiting to be roasted in the day time.

We then found a stand with an exceptionally long lineup. While we were waiting, they gave us some Sour Prune Drink, Suan Mei Tang. I love this stuff. It’s jet black, I generally have no idea what is in there, but it’s sweet and slightly sour and tasty. It’s supposed to have cooling properties to counteract if you have too many “hot” foods like roasted meats etc. That’s another post for another day.

What we were about to have is a Shaanxi specialty of Rou Jia Mou for 6RMB. A meat Sandwich. Wikipedia says that’s been around since 220BC!! So in a way, it’s probably the world’s oldest sandwich and is the Chinese answer to the Hamburger before the burger was invented. At this point I’m just floored at all these cool regional foods that I’ve never been exposed to. The beef here is heavily spiced and stewed for a long period of time, then it is put into a flatbread of some sort and the juices/soup of the meat is spooned onto it. It is amazing, and I wish there was more of this stuff in San Francisco. Most definitely a favourite of mine now. Too bad I’ve only had it once.

Sour Prune Juice!

Rou Jia Mou. The Chinese “hamburger”

We went back to sleep and explored some more the next day. Another Xi’An specialty that kept coming up at this point was Yang Rou Pao Mou which we had no idea what it was. We decided to seek that out.

But before that, we had an unfortunate encounter where we as a group walked at a jerking start stop pace on a crowded street. This caused an accident where this Muslim man’s scooter carrying a bunch of round looking flat bread swerved and toppled over as he was trying to make it to his destination. All that pristine bread fell onto the ground and was spoilt. I helped him pick his scooter back up and I expected a commotion of a yelling match, but there was nothing. No words were exchanged and he just started picking the bread back up. I was felt sorry about that encounter and apologized profusely and helped him pick up some of the spoilt dirty bread as well. I think his wife or boss or something saw it and started talking to him, and it seemed like he didn’t need our help. The situation being pretty awkward already, we started walking away since there wasn’t anything we could really do. I vividly remember that empty gaze he gave us as we departed. In my mind he was probably thinking we’re some Chinese douchebags exercising our Chinese privilege not giving a shit about minorities. I often wonder what happened to that bread, to him, and whether that was a half a day’s earnings down the drain for him. Definitely feel somewhat guilty.

We then ventured into one of the many shop that served Yang Rou Pao Mo. It’s translates to Lamb Soup Soaked Bread and we were handed some flatbread each. It turns out it was the same kind of bread we indirectly knocked over! Bam, right in the feelings.

But back to more pressing matters at the time since I had no idea what to do with this bread in hand. The shop keeper must’ve thought we were idiots. 3 obvious Chinese people, with strange accents and mannerisms who ordered this food and not knowing what to do with it. The shop keeper said to to rip the bread into small pieces and then hand it back into the kitchen for them to prepare. I asked whether he was supposed to do it, and he answered back that we as guests were supposed to do it. Now I’m just wondering why they don’t rip it as part of the kitchen prep to begin with.

After a bit of a wait, it finally came. The soup was very lamb tasting with herbs to accentuate the taste. It was the first time I’ve ever had lamb soup and I rather liked it. The hard dry flat unleavened flatbread was now in the bowl soaked up and hydrated with soup. I actually really enjoyed this. It was served with some firm tofu and some vermicelli noodles. The bread remained chewy and retained its texture. Another interesting feature to this soup was a certain ‘sharp’ somewhat spicy quality to it, yet cooling at the same time. I really can’t describe it since it’s unlike anything I’ve had before. I think it may have been some pickled garlic or some spices/herbs they used to season it.

Yang Rou Pao Mou. Note the pickled garlic on the side.

Some other stuff we found was peanut brittle candy. This stuff is peanut crack. It’s hardened candy with bits of peanuts inside it. Obviously.

There was this glutinous rice cake we round stuff that had great potential, but in the end it was one of those “I don’t know what to make of this” stories. It wasn’t great, or it wasn’t bad. It was meh.

There were also a lot of stalls selling ‘cooling drinks’. They’re reminiscent of all these sweet soups I had growing up. Some are have lots of stuff in it, some don’t. Some are thick, some are like water. This one was more like a soft drink. One my sisters and I found that we all liked a pear-flavoured one. I suspect inside was just sliced pears, water, rock candy and some goji berries.

Peanut Candy!

I still have no idea what that black stuff is. The entire thing was very ‘ricey’.

Pear drink! The cup is definitely a surplus item that the vendors got for cheap.

Sky high flames.

Some very aggressive flame exhaust.

Eventually it was time for us to go depart Xi’An and we boarded a night sleeper train to Pingyao. This was an ordeal itself dealing with the Chinese Train System. But I’ll cut them some slack, managing the logistics for 1.3B people would be an absolute nightmare and I don’t really know how they do it.

Pingyao is a city stuck in the past. It really feels like walking around in a movie set, and I honestly have no idea how it escaped Communism unscathed. It used to be a very important banking center, and all those buildings are heritage museum buildings now. It retains it’s rammed earth city walls and layout from the Ming Dynasty in the 1300’s and really not much has changed which again, nothing short of amazing. It’s off the beaten foreign tourist path for the most part and I’m happy we followed Lonely Planet’s advice on coming here. This was what I came to China to see. Old cool stuff.

Pensive Pingyao in the day time.

We only had a day here, so it was primarily soaking up the ambiance. The specialty here is Pingyao beef. And I can say I still don’t know what that tastes like or if we got the real thing. We followed a Lonely Planet tip, which I am certain it gave this business extremely good business. It looked new, renovated and served rather expensive food even by western standards. The ‘Pingyao beef’ we got was something braised and tasted like your standard star anise, cinnamon red braised stew.

This was by far one of the most expensive dishes we ordered on the trip. It was almost $30 itself and extremely uncharacteristic of China to give you that much beef.

“Pingyao Beef”…

One thing that was more interesting was ‘Cat’s Ear Noodles’. It was noodles shaped like cats ears. At that point, all noodle dishes were kind of like pasta to me. They all had the similar texture, you just choose what shape you want in there. The soup it comes in is always tasty.

Cat’s Ear Noodles.

I left Pingyao with an interesting conversation where we had a very cheap casual dinner at a random hole in the wall restaurant since the Pingyao beef ate up our budget. All I was asking for was “Please, no food poisoning!!”

We were chatting and the owner heard our accents and struck up a conversation with us. I don’t think she sees twins very much and was very curious. Twins in China bring good luck and joy as all good things are supposed to come in pairs. And the fact the three of us are siblings and travelling together is even more rare because of Mao’s One Child Policy. This brought high rates of female abandonment/infanticide because they don’t carry on the family name and has caused a skewed gender ratio. There are 120 men to every 100 women apparently. I read a statistic that 30 million men will never marry in China because of this. That’s nearly the population of California or Canada!

We told the shopkeeper that we were descendants of emigrants of China who were visiting for the first time, which I for some reason felt sheepish and bad about. In my mind, we were the ‘lucky’ ones to have not be brought up in Red China and live a life of impoverishment, hunger, uncertainty, political upheaval and social immobility and that it was unfair/unlucky that people had to suffer Mao’s policies. Do I still feel that? Maybe, but that’s another place for another blog.

She also asked a lot about housing, how many rooms, if everybody in America lived in big houses which I found it hard to explain. We all know that we do, and we don’t. I guess the middle class is spread out a little more evenly over on this side of the pond. It’s evident that all Americans are perceived as very rich in Chinese eyes.

It was one of those strange conversations I’ll never have anywhere else with thoughts and feelings that wouldn’t come out in your everyday situation. We were interested enough in China to be there. It was small enough venue in a small enough town to have a friendly chat. We were different enough to have the conversation initiated. And we understand and speak enough Mandarin to carry it on and see it to the end. It’s weird to have this strange feeling of being attached to a faraway land where even my parents weren’t born in. Just some food for thought.