Grey day at home working on the English edition of my Maldives book.
Mother in law and niece went to a wedding of some neighbors from Yan Jia village who are throwing a party in Chenzhou.
We had decided to go for lunch to a Korean restaurant in town, one of many new restaurants with foreign food which are open for business trying to attract the up and coming local middle class. Been there before, but would love to go again, look forward to some different kind of food. However, the clouds and especially the cold drizzle eventually act as a powerful deterrent and we decide to stay home.
Mother comes back with plastic bags full of of food, left overs from banquet: fruits sweets even a half kilo or so of delicious spicy prawns. It's the custom here: invitees to wedding receptions take home their share of leftovers. She said they took away the least compared to everyone else at the party. Some parents unabashedly tell their children to grab as much as possible as fast as possible!
27 September 2018
24 September 2018
Festival della Luna a tavola
La festa del "mezz'autunno" lunare. In pratica coincide, con date variabili di anno in anno, approssimativamente con l'equinozio d'autunno solare.
Dopo il capodanno cinese è la festa più sentita, più partecipata in famiglia, anche se non si vedono le migrazioni di massa bibliche del capodanno. Ci viene a trovare qualche parente, ci si scambia qualche invito con i vicini.
Gran pranzo a casa, tutto cucinato fresco: il giorno di mezz'autunno è proibito mangiare cibi cotti precedentemente. Niente minestre riscaldate!
Piccoli bicchierini per tutti, tranne ovviamente la nipotina e mia suocera che ultimamente non beve alcol, non ho ancora capito perché. Tocca a me, il genero, come uomo meno "senior" di versare a tutti. Poi brindo, con il Jian kang! (Alla salute!) di rito, facendo attenzione che il bordo del mio bicchiere tocchi il lato del bicchiere di mio suocero, quindi sotto il bordo del suo bicchiere, in segno di deferenza.
Se provo a bere un sorsetto senza brindare a mio suocero (mi capita, anche perché sono quasi sempre inevitabilmente tagliato fuori da ogni conversazione in dialetto hunanese) mia moglie mi redarguisce e devo subito rimediare. Idem se il bicchiere di mio suocero resta vuoto e io non lo rabbocco all'istante. Per gli altri commensali basta brindare una o due volte nel corso del pasto. Comunque mia moglie è paziente, non si scompone troppo e mi continua a rammentare di rabboccare.
Il "vino" di prugna è una novità, ma devo ammettere che con il cibo medio-piccante che preparano i suoceri si abbina alla meraviglia. La morbidezza del resto, me lo hanno insegnato all'AIS, anzi è stata addirittura una mia domanda all'esame da sommelier, è la migliore amica del piccante.
A pensarci bene è un po’ come tra due innamorati, lei morbida e delicata, lui piccante, leggermente aggressivo ma pronto ad arrendersi e farsi avvolgere dalla seduzione.
Solo alla fine, quando non si beve più alcol, l'ultimo brindisi è preceduto da un Gan bei! (pulisci il bicchiere!) che indica l'impegno a svuotare completamente il bicchiere, fino all'ultima goccia.
Chissà perché, una volta che tutti hanno fatto gan bei, si comincia ad aggiungere riso al vapore nei piatti. Non ho mai capito la ratio di questa consuetudine anche se ho chiesto ripetutamente. Forse, ma è solo una speculazione, quando una volta c'era poco da mangiare a tavola, prima si finivano i cibi nobili (carne, verdure) e poi, se si aveva ancora fame, si riempiva la pancia con il riso. Che comunque non era necessario finire, poteva aspettare nella pentola fino al giorno dopo. Forse un giorno scoprirò se è veramente così.
A fine pasto mio suocero tira fuori anche un distillato, sempre prodotto dalle patate dolci. Pungente all'attacco, ma con finale morbido, si sente quando scende in gola. Ne prendo un assaggio, dopo vari bicchierini del fermentato non vorrei trovarmi sotto al tavolo.
Ma nessuno si può alzare da tavola senza aver provato il liquore di prugna: semplicemente prugne affogate per qualche mese in alcol puro, al quale cedono il loro sapore. Un goccio e mi fermo, il gioco si sta facendo pericoloso!
Ma nessuno si può alzare da tavola senza aver provato il liquore di prugna: semplicemente prugne affogate per qualche mese in alcol puro, al quale cedono il loro sapore. Un goccio e mi fermo, il gioco si sta facendo pericoloso!
23 September 2018
Market n. 2 in Guiyang and mid-autumn proparations
Morning to buy food for the mid-autumn day celebrations at Market n.2, just a kilometer or so from home.
On the way I cross paths with a lady who is carrying a balancing basket. She is collecting paper and plastic bottles to sell back to commercial recycling companies, apparently a common activity here.
Lots of sellers of ducks line up the streets today, it is the traditional moon festival meal. All the ducks, of course, are sold alive and kicking in their reed baskets.
One lady buys a duck but she does not trust the seller's scale, so she grabs her animal and asks the next seller down the sidewalk to weigh it, not sure how it turned out but she bought the duck, 30 Rmb, about 4 euro.
The market is very busy, meat fish (always alive in water tanks) veggies of all kinds. Large quarters of cows are hanging from the roof of the covered market, and the butcher slices off any cut and size his clients require. On one side, a man with a grinder produces the typical spicy chili paste that is so common in Hunan cuisine.
As I snap away a policeman approaches me and Lifang and explains he doesn't want me to take pictures of his police car, which I haven't done and have no interest in doing anyway.
A little girl drinks fresh juice out of a plastic cup then throws cup on ground, I pick it up and try to show her to hold on to it until she can put it in a bin but her mother takes it from her and shows her how to throw it... on the ground! I give up.
At home mother in law has bought a duck, which is swiftly slaughtered in the bathroom, fairly quickly and effortlessly. The blood flowing from the neck is collected to make bean curd and then used in a soup. It's very delicious!
On the way I cross paths with a lady who is carrying a balancing basket. She is collecting paper and plastic bottles to sell back to commercial recycling companies, apparently a common activity here.
Lots of sellers of ducks line up the streets today, it is the traditional moon festival meal. All the ducks, of course, are sold alive and kicking in their reed baskets.
One lady buys a duck but she does not trust the seller's scale, so she grabs her animal and asks the next seller down the sidewalk to weigh it, not sure how it turned out but she bought the duck, 30 Rmb, about 4 euro.
The market is very busy, meat fish (always alive in water tanks) veggies of all kinds. Large quarters of cows are hanging from the roof of the covered market, and the butcher slices off any cut and size his clients require. On one side, a man with a grinder produces the typical spicy chili paste that is so common in Hunan cuisine.
As I snap away a policeman approaches me and Lifang and explains he doesn't want me to take pictures of his police car, which I haven't done and have no interest in doing anyway.
A little girl drinks fresh juice out of a plastic cup then throws cup on ground, I pick it up and try to show her to hold on to it until she can put it in a bin but her mother takes it from her and shows her how to throw it... on the ground! I give up.
At home mother in law has bought a duck, which is swiftly slaughtered in the bathroom, fairly quickly and effortlessly. The blood flowing from the neck is collected to make bean curd and then used in a soup. It's very delicious!
22 September 2018
Train from Hangzhou to Chenzhou
Grey sky drizzling. We pack our stuff check out of the hotel and are off to station with an ever reliable didi car.
At the station we are welcomed by a very crowded waiting hall, lots of people going home for the mid-autumn day celebrations.
Lifang goes to get the tickets she has booked online while I wait in line to check-in. I've got all our suitcases and proceed with some difficulty. It's all the more difficult because the wheels of one suitcase are broken, so I have to drag it. But instead of helping me people try to jump the queue and get ahead of me. I manage to keep them behind me and make slow progress.
When she's back we go through to the waiting room a huge hall with thousands of people waiting for their train. From here batches of travelers are admitted to the platform in the order of departure of their train.
Lifang manages to buy some bananas and processed duck meat for the trip, we've skipped lunch after all. I like the boneless duck bums especially!
The station is quite impressive. Electronic boards show the next 3 or 4 departing trains: red letters and numbers when you need to wait, yellow when you need to get ready and green when the gates (which look like those at the London subway) are open. We slip our tickets through and take the escalator down to the platform.
Then it's time to take position at the color-coded marks on the ground which indicate where each car will stop.
When the train arrives and stops with millimetric precision where it is supposed to stop I'm pleasantly surprised to see departing passengers patiently let arriving travelers off the train first!
We board and struggle to find a place to put our luggage, the aisle is so crowded.
We're off at 300+kmh through Zhejiang province toward Hunan. We barrel through fields of farms, many towns and cities where modern tall and thin residential buildings contrast with old traditional houses.
Too many screaming Chinese children on train, parents could do better to calm them down. Or not. Half the passengers are listening to their favorite TV program or playing a video game online, and not one of them is using earphones. the result is a somewhat less than enjoyable persistent monotonous and loud cacophony.
Once we get to Chenzhou we need a taxi (or Didi) to Guiyang. There is a taxi stand by the station, the fare is 100 Rmb. We try and get something cheaper but end up wasting time with an unofficial taxi before calling a Didi and getting home for dinner! Lesson learned: you may save a few Rmb by using unofficial and/or pooled transportation, but it's probably not worth the hassle!
At the station we are welcomed by a very crowded waiting hall, lots of people going home for the mid-autumn day celebrations.
Lifang goes to get the tickets she has booked online while I wait in line to check-in. I've got all our suitcases and proceed with some difficulty. It's all the more difficult because the wheels of one suitcase are broken, so I have to drag it. But instead of helping me people try to jump the queue and get ahead of me. I manage to keep them behind me and make slow progress.
When she's back we go through to the waiting room a huge hall with thousands of people waiting for their train. From here batches of travelers are admitted to the platform in the order of departure of their train.
Lifang manages to buy some bananas and processed duck meat for the trip, we've skipped lunch after all. I like the boneless duck bums especially!
The station is quite impressive. Electronic boards show the next 3 or 4 departing trains: red letters and numbers when you need to wait, yellow when you need to get ready and green when the gates (which look like those at the London subway) are open. We slip our tickets through and take the escalator down to the platform.
Then it's time to take position at the color-coded marks on the ground which indicate where each car will stop.
When the train arrives and stops with millimetric precision where it is supposed to stop I'm pleasantly surprised to see departing passengers patiently let arriving travelers off the train first!
We board and struggle to find a place to put our luggage, the aisle is so crowded.
We're off at 300+kmh through Zhejiang province toward Hunan. We barrel through fields of farms, many towns and cities where modern tall and thin residential buildings contrast with old traditional houses.
Too many screaming Chinese children on train, parents could do better to calm them down. Or not. Half the passengers are listening to their favorite TV program or playing a video game online, and not one of them is using earphones. the result is a somewhat less than enjoyable persistent monotonous and loud cacophony.
Once we get to Chenzhou we need a taxi (or Didi) to Guiyang. There is a taxi stand by the station, the fare is 100 Rmb. We try and get something cheaper but end up wasting time with an unofficial taxi before calling a Didi and getting home for dinner! Lesson learned: you may save a few Rmb by using unofficial and/or pooled transportation, but it's probably not worth the hassle!
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