Bring on the Night

8th July 2007 Yilan

Woke up at 8am. I started writing up on all that has gone on here for the last days. So many new impressions, but not enough time to get it all down on paper.

While I sat alone and wrote this stuff, 2 mothers came by with their children. C’s sister is somewhat of an artist and has a huge drawing talent. She also gives private tutoring in her home and as we live here, someone pops up from time to time. As you probably would have guessed I do my best to explain that she is not here, and that they should call the number written on the note on the door, But alas they don’t understand. Every time it ends up with them loosing patience and dragging their child down the stairs while smiling politely. Ting bu dong, ting bu dong..

At 11.20am C comes back from shopping. We planned on going to her parents for dinner, but my stomach is not any better and I’m not hungry at all. C decided to call her parents and cancel, so I could relax some more and be close to a western toilet. C instead made some noodles with onion and eggs, of which I ate a bit.

Now my stomach problems may sound pretty bad, but they are not violent cramps or anything. My stomach just feels a bit weird and I’m not hungry at all. Also I’m a bit worried that I may have to do an unscheduled “emergency landing”. Even though I don’t think it will be happening, it’s still nice to be close to a toilet. I feel fine besides this and have a cool time. I just have to think a bit ahead when we go out. Until now, it has been very difficult for my stomach to catch a break. Every day is filled with different dishes, lots of Chinese rice liquor and beer. Not sure this is what the doctor ordered for a complete recovery.

The positive side to my stomach issues is that I’m slowly pulling a “reversed Kojak” and loosing some pounds. No weight around, but no need to check out the obvious anyway.

Yesterday we agreed to cook up some Danish dinner for C’s family. We intended to cook it up at C’s parent’s home, but C proposed that we did it at our temporary home, her sister’s apartment, instead. It was a good idea. The table here is bigger and that’s needed for eating Danish style.

We made a list of needed ingredients and C went shopping, while I caught some Z’s. Much needed and I slept like a baby for at least 1½ hour before C came back.

There were a few hurdles about the food. To make it as original as possible, we needed the right meat and some wine to go with it. I decided to make some steaks and some pork chops. To go with that, some boiled potatoes, carrots and some broccoli. Then some salad for colors and at last the real winner: some Danish sauce. Fortunately C had brought some bags of easy made Knorr Béarnaise sauce that normally scores with C’s Chinese friends in Denmark. Just to be on the safe side, we would make some rice too. If all things fail, rice does well with the Chinese, eh?

We went for yet another shopping spree to get the wine and some Chinese candy (sunflower seeds and similar). The meat C bought was a good pick, but I weren’t prepared for letting her get the wine. She has no clue to what is good from looking at a bottle. During her time in Denmark she has developed a taste for wine and can usually tell if wine sucks or not. The finer wines are lost on her though.

We grabbed a taxi to a supermarket where I browsed the fine range of wines there. I use the term “fine” loosely if you’re in doubt. It was worse than expected. There wasn’t a single foreign bottle in sight and the Chinese counterparts held no promise for quality. Who wants to drink something which basically only is labeled “Dry Red Wine” anyway? No mentioning of the grapes, fruitiness, bouquet or similar. Some had production year printed, but my guess is that Chinese wine does not grow better by the year going by. 1999 is not a year I would recommend for Chinese wines in 2007 no matter what. The damage was done. According to C this was the town’s biggest wine selection. I’m pretty sure she didn’t know for sure, but we had 30 minutes to start cooking to make it. So I decided to grab the least disgusting bottles and head for the counter. One red and one white. Turns out that C’s parents brought the Gallo California Red that I gave them as a gift, so they actually had a chance to taste some acceptable quality wine in the end.

Back home and start cooking. One rice cooker, which were only used for the rice and a bigger Chinese cook-everything-thingy was what we had to do with. Normally I would have at least 3 plates going on the stove at home, but we’d have to do with only that one. It was used to boil the potato stuff, fry the meat and to cook up some sauce at last.

35 minutes after schedule we were ready to eat. I was pretty happy with the result, considering all the lacking utensils and spice I usually need in Denmark.

Ready to eat and I finally notice the obvious. No wine bottle opener. Idiot, idiot, idiot! (me oc fourse). C’s father and brother-in-law try their best with a screwdriver, while I aren’t allowed a go. Considering that I’ve opened these so many times before that I may be on a special surveillance list at AA, this is odd to me. I do my best to let them keep face and keep my hands in the pocket, smile politely and act sorry for the inconvenience. C’s father is not a man of words, but actions. So before C can disagree completely he is gone and 5 minutes later reappearing with a genuine bottle opener. Good save dad.

Finally at the table and away with eating. C got hold of some forks and knives so we’re in for a laugh. No one in the room except C and I know how to use these western hell tools, so there’s lots of wondering looks as C shows her family how to hold the knife to cut the meat. The meat being the steaks, which I intentionally overcooked due to fear of bloody insides, is some challenge. Even a bit for me. On the positive side, it adds to the laughing.

Now – you may not believe me when I tell you it was intentional overcooking, but that’s actually the truth. C’s father saw the pictures from our wedding 1½ year ago and his eyes was fixed on the one picture with the roast beef. Not sure about the rest of the world, but Danes like this a bit bloody and this one was no exception. I knew that meal would be a certain fiasco if the first piece of meat would reveal just the slightest blood, so I had to play it safe.

Turns out that all family members ended up enjoying the meal very much. There may have been stuff they didn’t like, but most of it went down really well. The pork chops especially, but also the salad and potato/carrot/broccoli was a success. The real winner was, as expected, the sauce, which was almost licked off the bowl when it was empty. C’s mother even wanted the last remaining pack to use another time, so I did my best to show her how to do it. I think she already had a hunch, since both she and other family members was hanging over my shoulders as I made this and the meat 2 hours earlier.

One thing that strikes me here is that I am not nervous about anything at all. I should be scared to death about meeting C’s family, but I’m not. I should be scared as hell cooking up a Danish meal in a Chinese kitchen with Chinese ingredients, but I’m not. My theory is that I’m so overwhelmed with this new environment and the warm welcome of C’s family. Also I practically understand nothing, so I’m in the dark all the time. No need to worry about the meaning of spoken words as you are used to in Denmark. No spite or hidden messages between the lines and no need for filtering. Just smiles, polite gestures and genuine acts of friendliness.

We downed the bottle of California Red and turned to the Chinese white I bought here in Yilan. No need to say that the difference was huge. This one was close to disgusting. C family thought the Red Wine tasted in a range from “ok” to “very good”, but I’m not so sure. They want me to keep face too. Their drinking pace was way slower than when they usually down rice liquor. According to C they said that the wine tasted very strong. Not sure if it was the taste or alcohol they commented on, but I actually think it was the latter. One of C sister even shouted out: “Maaaya!” as she had her first sip. In English that’s the same as “Oh my god!”.

After dinner all of the family helped clean. Well except the men, and as usually, I weren’t allowed to help even though I insisted. It feels very strange to me to be a slacker against my will.

It was time for the family to go home, so C and I followed them down and saw them of in a taxi. Afterwards we went to a barbershop, where C had her hair cut a bit. I had a hair wash and what may have been considered a massage here, but really more was gentle stroking. This one couldn’t compete with the ones in Beijing, but at least she charged only 10 kuai.

Back home and catch some Z’s again. Ahhh Life is hard.

Tags: China, denmark vs china, dinner, food