East Meets West

December 20, 2010 | Uncategorized

Food always tastes better when you get it at the source.  Fish ‘n Chips in London, steak in Buenos Aires, crepes in Paris.

The same is true for Chinese food. It certainly tastes better in Beijing than at our local Peking Palace All-You-Can-Eat Buffet Open Everyday From 11AM.

Not long ago in China, we traveled south to Lijang to see the home of the Naxi people, one of the last matriarchal societies in existence. As it turned out though, it wasn’t the people that caught our attention, but the food.

Jake, the guide arranged by our US travel agent, drove us around the countryside for a few days, bringing us to a variety of restaurants along the way. Interestingly, several were actually parts of large houses, still resided in by the owners. I’m not adventurous with food but it was a great opportunity to sample Chinese “home cooking” at its source.

At one of them – we called it “the place with the chili peppers” for the strings of red peppers hung outside its door — we dined on local dishes with Jake and our driver in room off a courtyard. At another, the Green Snow outside Lijang (called No. 8 Restaurant by locals, according to Jake) we lunched in a small room away from the main house. Bundled up next to a small coal-filled brazier to ward off the chill, we had a fantastic meal of beef, chicken and fresh vegetables, serenaded by recordings of “Only You” and other old hits by The Platters. There’s nothing like sweet-and-sour chicken served with a side dish of memory lane.

But the meal that still stands out in my mind had nothing to do with the food.

One night in Lijang we chose to go to the restaurant Michi, not so much because Jake told us “it was really popular with foreign tourists,” but because, he added, ” it has the best pizza in China.”

Chinese pizza? Who could resist the temptation to take a peek into this clandestine corner of Chinese cookery? Off we went.

The place was dimly lit and nondescript with, from what I could tell, mostly Europeans and Israelis at its few tables. We ordered three beers, a local chicken dish and a pizza, and made small talk with Jake until the food arrived.

The pizza turned out to be all cheese, with not a speck of tomato anywhere. The cheese had a unique sweetness, making it unlike any pizza we had ever had before.

I turned to Jake to comment on its unique flavor, and immediately saw the clash of cultures.

There he sat, quietly eating his slice with chopsticks.

Jim Ferri