Posts from March 2010


China truly is a gourmand’s paradise filled with delicious food everywhere you go. The food itself can be as far ranging as delicacies popularized during the Ming Dynasty or it can be as simple and down to earth as a 1 块 stick of 串 (think kebab) found on any roadside corner. Whatever the type, Chinese food is made to satisfy the tastes of nearly 1.4 billion people, which is no small task. Either out of necessity or out of enjoyment, Chinese food has evolved into an amazing amalgum of century-refined delicacies, combining simple yet time-tested practices, flavors and ingredients that has kept Chinese bellies full(吃饱了chī bàole)for millennia.

The sheer variety of Chinese food is complimented by a diverse nation of 55 distinct minorities, plus the far ranging in tastes and cooking styles among Han populations (due to geography and livestock). Add in the influence and evolution of 中国菜 from dynasty to dynasty plus the introduction of spices and new ingredients by way of Southeast Asian (namely India) and Silk Road trade routes (Middle Eastern Influence) and it becomes clear that Chinese cuisine has developed into a melting pot of flavors (much like hot pot 火锅 huǒ guō).

But what really impresses me about 中国菜 is the ingenuity in creating a meal–and a delicious one at that. There is a phrase that I often hear roughly translated as: [Chinese people] eat everything with four legs except the table or “每个东西有四条腿的除了桌子以外都吃“. I’ve also heard it as “everything that flies except for a plane” but I believe that is a a modern colloquial play on words. Whichever you prefer, it’s true. Just take a stroll down a street food alley and you’ll see things you weren’t even sure were edible, let alone tasty enough to cause a line to form. Still, I find this phrase to be very telling of both Chinese food and culture.

Throughout Chinese history, especially during the 18th, 19th and mid 20th century, scarcity of food, loss of entire crop yields, drought and natural disasters plunged China into cyclical periods of famine (饥荒 jī huang). As a result, diets had to change as rice, wheat, and sorghum were planted as alternatives, while herdsman switched to different livestock. Yet to weather the famine, more had to be done with less, and soon all parts of plants and animals were incorporated into some kind of dish so long as they provided calories. During the Cultural Revolution (文化大革命), following agricultural breakdown, this use of every available iota of sustenance was what kept people alive and as a result, began influencing modern Chinese cuisine.

Thankfully, those days necessitating the stretching of less into more are gone, but the food sure isn’t. While you may not be in love with the idea of eating chicken’s feet, sea cucumber, squid on a stick, scorpions, duck blood pudding, yak hoof, or intestines, you will most assuredly find some Chinese dish that is deliciously out of this world and to your liking. Just remember, “the blandest dish is the one you didn’t taste”.

There is no way to include all Chinese food in just one post, this will be a recurring post, each of which will highlight a specific area of food, specific ethic style, or a specific locations to eat. If there are any types of food you are interested in, and would like me to mention, please feel free to post comments about the delicacy in question.

Yesterday I went with some friends to Macau, one of China’s 特别行政区te4bie2xing2zheng4qu1 (special administrative regions).  There, we saw some of the 痕迹 hen2ji4 (traces) of Macau as a 殖民地 zhi2min2di4 (colony).  Macau has become a supreme tourist attraction in East Asia, attracting more tourists last year than even Hong Kong!  This may have to do with the fact that gambling is 合法 he2fa3 (legal).  百家乐 Bai2jia1le4 (Baccarat) is the most popular game played in Macau, far ahead of other table games in the main rooms as well as making up a near-monopoly of the higher-value gaming rooms.  Although casinos have their own 商场 shang1chang3 (malls), the clear majority of tourists are Mainland Chinese residents traveling on a 通行证 tong1xing2zheng4 (travel pass) for Hong Kong and Macau, which allows them to stay in the SAR for 7 days at a time.

Macau quietly slipped ahead of Las Vegas in 2007 for gaming revenue, before the Venetian and MGM Grand had opened.  Today, there are almost no large gaming groups (except for Harrah’s, which owns Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas) who do not have a presence in Macau.  According to Macau Business magazine, Macau is not threatened by the 圣淘沙 sheng4tao3sha1 (Sentosa) resort in 新加坡 xin1jia1po1 (Singapore), which had a soft opening for its casino this past March.

The next big question about Macau as developments proliferate is the fate of the 法律制度 fa3lv4zhi4du4 (legal system) of Hengqin island, a part of zhu1hai3 (Zhuhai) which could become the next target for Macanese property developments.  I 不愧为说 bu2kui4wei2shuo1 (am not at a loss to say) that billions of dollars swing in the balance of the decision to regard Hengqin island as part of the Mainland versus part of Macau.

Readers- have you been to Macau or any of China’s other unique jurisdictions?

The US remains the largest 生产 (sheng1chan3 – manufacturing) nation, but few if any people I have asked have been able to answer correctly which country it is.

Several days ago, I spoke with a trader who deals in appliances and power tools sourcing some components from the Mainland.  I was particularly curious about one component of his trade:电池 (dian4chi3 – batteries).  I wanted to know which companies supplied them, which were good, and which could be better.

According to him, the company 比亚迪 (bi3ya4di4- BYD, a company in which Warren Buffett and many retail investors have invested) is not a great supplier, and they should be a cost leader.  He added that their batteries do not make use of the best technology.

Surprised to hear this, I asked a confidant who works in finance and holds a stock position in BYD.  He remarked that BYD’s manufacturing could be made cheaper through further development of optimized practice (including things such as assembly lines).  However, BYD continues to rely on manual labor for the assembly of many parts, holding that an overhaul of its manufacturing process would result in fewer jobs overall as well as significant resource investment in the 短期 (duan3qi1 – short term).  Despite the fact that 1000 taxis powered by BYD technology are set to be piloted in Shenzhen next month, BYD’s small battery division does not have the same successes. Even top companies are faced with the battle of margins.

If you want to see the toll that margins can take, take a look at China’s textile industry.  The competition is 日益激烈 (ri4yi4ji1lie4 – increasing in intensity every day).  Indeed, while speaking to a factory producing jeans for export to large retailers in the US, I encountered her frustration at  turning a meager profit after paying out for materials, housing employees in dorms, and other assorted business expenses. She added that European and US standards make it nearly impossible for her to use certain cost-cutting measures such as changing dyes or using a different type of cloth.  As more companies spring up in saturated industries, the existing profit margins will only diminish further.

Readers, what have you experienced regarding Chinese manufacturing?  Are any of you planning to contact Chinese companies for sourcing?

It was this time last year that I was en route to give a talk at a university in Wuhan.  During the drive from the airport, I began to chat with the driver.  Our focus soon shifted to trade between the US and China.  As we built rapport, he asked very frankly, “是不是美国公司就把这些垃圾食品卖给我们中国人吃?” (Are American companies just selling junk food for us Chinese people [to eat]?)  It seemed like a far-fetched notion at the time that American companies would dump low-grade products on the Chinese market.  If they did that, then they would have no competitive advantage over locally produced low-quality goods, to say nothing of locally-produced high-quality goods.

Having lived across the street from Beijing’s famed 秀水街 (xiu4shui3jie1 – silk market) as well as Shenzhen’s noted 罗湖商业城 (luo2hu2shang1ye4cheng2 Luo Hu Shopping City), I have seen no shortage of fakes, knock-offs, and imitations that were “not quite quite.”  My only possible explanation for the local government’s 睁一只眼闭一只眼 (zheng1yi4zhi1yan3 bi4yi1zhi1yan3 – one eye open, one eye closed) or staggered approach to combating fake goods is that having people employed selling fake goods is generally better for social harmony than having restive unemployed citizens.

The original appeal of 次品 (ci4pin3 – factory seconds) is that goods can be had at low-cost, not unlike the factory rejects often on sale at outlet malls or bargain bins like you might find in the States.  This concept extends beyond mere clothing, however.  Printers with iffy paper feeds, bookcases missing screws for shelves, and other consumer goods are all part of the 次品 market in China.

Knowing the importance that people attach to foreign brands and understanding of quality that exists among Chinese consumers, imagine my surprise to read the March 16 China Daily article describing how several world-famous 名牌 ( ming2pai2 – top brands) imported into China had failed routine quality inspections.

The girlfriend of an associate of mine works for one of the top foreign luxury brands in China, running a store in one of China’s second-tier cities.  She has observed how sales girls with employee discounts will skip one meal per day for months in order to scrounge up the money to purchase a bag from this company.  The revelation that the goods may not be up to par with the originals sold in Europe or the Americas quickly unravels the allure of getting such a product.

Readers, what have you experienced?

When I lived in Beijing, every day I would pass a trash compactor station where tricycle-bound trash collectors would empty the contents of the storage tank mounted on the back.  I would reflect on how having  a roving fleet of trash collectors could replace several garbage trucks and reduce congestion and air pollution on Beijing’s roads.  Anything that could not be recycled was 垃圾 (la1ji1 trash), and I’d bring my paper, glass, and bottles to independent people bearing signs reading 高价回收 (gao1jia4hui2shou1 [high price paid for recycled goods]).  It was never difficult to find them- there were about 3-4 stationary people in high-visibility areas within a 1-mile radius of my apartment.

Now in Beijing’s so-called “7th ring” area, there is a growing concern about trash management.  According to a recent Guardian article, Beijing’s existing trash-handling capacity can only handle 61% of the trash produced daily (11,000 ton handling capacity to meet a daily output of 18,000 tons).  This has led to an unexpected short-term solution.  Instead of developing a contingency plan for improving recycling, waste management officials have installed several deodorant guns near landfills past Beijing’s 6th ring road.  This is used to keep the smell down before the trash is burnt.  This has led me to informally examine systemic issues with recycling both in Beijing and Shenzhen.

In my building, every floor has two separate trash bins- one for recyclable items and one for non-recyclable items.  Since moving to Shenzhen last August, I had assiduously separated my trash into each bin every time I took out the trash.  Earlier this week, I encountered a building employee emptying both bins into one bag, commingling my biodegradable newspapers with plastic bags.  After asking the woman what happens to the trash, she notified me that a person downstairs 分类 (fen1lei4 [sorts]) it.  Except for glass, it seems that most waste could be dropped down a chute rather than having someone come upstairs, mix it, then bring it downstairs for somebody to separate it again.

Most of the  coworkers whom I surveyed expressed that separating their goods was very 麻烦 (ma2fan2 [annoying]), but that they’d consider doing it if it were made easier.  Readers, what have your experiences been with waste management in China?  Does your office separate trash from recyclables?

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