“Ni chi fan le ma?” is a greeting in China that is rooted in the country’s history and literally means, “Have you eaten rice yet?” but is also away to say “hello.” In previous centuries life, in many ways, was simpler and yet harsher. Taking care of one another meant trying to make sure that no one went hungry. Asking a person if s/he has eaten is the same as asking how somebody is.

At the time of the China’s Great Leap Forward (1959-1961) the country was forced to confront the difficult reality of famine. China recovered but the Chinese remember and embrace their history; in fact their collective memory goes back thousands of years. Perhaps because of this time of dearth, the Chinese have a significant obsession with food and eating. Today, the government is working hard to ensure that there is enough to eat in its country; Mainland China alone consists of over 1,300,000,000 people – the world’s largest population- and the country may well have trouble feeding its ever-increasing numbers.This problem is exacerbated by the dangers of land erosion, climate change, urbanisation, pollution, etc. However, to the casual observer (i.e., me), it appears that food is currently plentiful.

“Ni chi fan le ma” remains a greeting that you occasionally hear on the streets. Sometimes it is just a hello, when bumping into a friend, but other times it is meant as an invitation to join someone for a snack, meal, or drink. Any event may prompt family, friends, acquaintances, or business associates to feast together; eating is an important social activity. China strikes me as a nation that is preoccupied withfood, eating, and all things related. I am a “foodie” in the west and in China I have now learned that I am a “chihuo” – someone who gets excited about food. Many people in this ever-growing and prosperous country are chihuo.

China divides itself between North and South – two approximate regions with which, I have learned from my teachers, people identify themselves. The food is divided accordingly. Northern food tends to be heartier and more full-flavoured (it is colder in the north, after all), and incorporates more wheat, in the form of bread and noodles. Southern food is mostly rice-based (which includes rice noodles), due to the warm, rainy conditions in the region, that are conducive to growing this particular grain.

There are other culinary divisions as well. Each region, city, and town has its own native delicacies. In Kunming (a city with a population of more than 5,000,000) and across Yunnan that may mean: a) Pu-er tea (Pu-er tea undergoes fermentation and aging; apparently it can help lower cholesterol levels); b) Across the Bridge Noodles (Yunnan Guoqiao Mixian – which consists of three parts: a bowl of hot chicken broth, various slices of meat, including chicken, fish, seasoned meat, and rice noodles – all served in a very particular order); c) Steaming-Pot Chicken (Qiguo Ji – a dish of steamed chicken in a pot with a hollow tube in the centre. It is cooked for hours with ginger, shallots, salt and pepper, and water and steam in the tube flow into the pot to make a broth with the chicken) and; d) Lao Nai Yang Yu (recipe below) – a dish that is essentially mashed potatoes but stir-fried with oil, shallots and onions, and sliced or minced hot green peppers. The people of Kunming are also crazy about hotpot  – although this is not a dish specific to Kunming or Yunnan Province. However, in Kunming, hotpot includes not only meat, fish, and vegetables of all kinds but also a large variety of mushrooms because of the enormous number of species grown in Yunnan. Of course, there are numerous other local dishes that may be added to this very short list.

Street food in Kunming ranges from deep fried grubs/beetles/larvae (which I have tried and taste, to my mind, like crunchy cardboard) to more commonly seen dumplings, steamed buns, tofu, potatoes (cooked in multiple ways), grilled corn, sweet potatoes, meat and fish, sandwiches (made by spooning out dough onto an oily hot surface and frying it into a flatbread which is then spread with a spicy paste and wrapped around onions, cilantro, lettuce, and a fried egg), and tea eggs (stewed in a salted tea that also often includes soy sauce, anise, and Chinese five-spice powder). All of these snacks cost less than 50 U.S. cents.

At the same time, one can find all sorts of lavish dishes in high end restaurants; prices can easily top $40USD/dish. I discovered this recently when I ordered one minuscule piece of shark meat at a dim sum restaurant some friends and I had ventured to. On occasion I study in a cafe inside a pricey mall where, for $4.50USD, one can get an excellent cup of coffee and a piece of cake.

Kunming, because of it’s particular history and location has a wide range of food and it is easy not to repeat a meal for a very long time. Kunming street (stall, and restaurant) food is unique in China because of the many minority Chinese who have gathered in this city. Over 20 of the 55 minority groups in the country live in Yunnan Province, which shares borders with Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam. Kunming was the last Chinese city on the southwestern silk route into South Asia so it is a melting pot of races, religions and cultures. Because of this confluence of cultures there is a myriad of nibbles in Kunming. The food in Yunnan is called Dian cuisine, which combines the cooking styles of the different ethnicities in Yunnan Province.

For example, Islam came to Kunming approximately 700 years ago and the Muslim community comprises about a third of the population in the city’s central district. Men in white caps stir vats of roasted coffee beans, make flatbread, and grill halal kebabs as well as cook other foods.

The Muslim quarter is a short walk from my school. I enjoy getting lost in the alleyways and tasting the offerings there.

Dai minority food is also fairly well represented in Kunming. It combines sour, spicy, and sweet flavors. The Dai practice Buddhism and are related to the Thai and Lao. Among the variety of tastes in these dishes, spiciness is usually predominant. Dai food is prepared in different ways – by roasting, steaming, boiling, frying, and pickling. Unlike in the rest of China, fresh vegetables often make up part of the meal, particularly if they have medicinal properties. Herbs are heavily used and coconut milk and/or fish sauce are frequent ingredients.

The Dai make a sweet glutinous rice (like that in Laos) that is often mixed with pineapple pieces and served in a hollowed out pineapple – a dish that is called “buoluo fan” (tribe rice). It is also common for the Dai people to grill fish or vegetables in banana leaves.

Most Kunming food vendors sell their wares in small shops. However, many simply carry out their business from a cart or even from a pot or wok over coals on the ground. There is a wide variety of local delicacies to be tasted here. People in Kunming (and Yunnan in general) tend to like their snacks and meals salty, savoury, and spicy. They do a lot of both grilling and deep frying – particularly deep fried potatoes of various sorts (my favourite is mixed with dried hot pepper, cilantro, spring onions, and garlic) and tofu in different forms (I love fried tofu, made quite similarly to the potatoes – mixed with scallions, cilantro, and sprinkled heavily with dried hot pepper). Hot oil is the start to many eats on the street. My eight (plus) weeks in China have proven to me that the food here is delicious and diverse. Almost everywhere you turn you can order something to consume as you walk, or you can just pull up a low plastic chair at a plastic patio table to sit, rest, and nibble right there. Starve I shall not!

Noodles are a popular favourite in Kunming. I don’t know for sure but I suspect more people here eat noodles than rice. In fact, noodles (made of rice or wheat) are often the highlight of a meal, and cold noodle dishes are traditional. Potatoes are also grown in this province, and as mentioned above, are prepared in assorted ways.

Thanks to the the Bai and Sani minorities of Yunnan province, another local specialty is goat cheese. Raising goats is one way for them to make a living on mountainous land that may be unsuited for growing crops but can support animals. The cheese is made by heating fresh goat’s milk with an acidic agent until it becomes firm. Once hardened, the cheese is often pan-fried or steamed. However in some  restaurants that serve Western food you can find it in bite-size pieces in salads.

Not surprisingly Kunming (like the rest of China) is changing. I’ve been told that the Muslim quarter in the old city district used to be filled with wooden houses and eaved roofs.These are gone now – replaced with many new buildings and shops including Carrefour  and Walmart. As much as I avoid these two stores (except to buy milk and almonds) they are experiences to be had — especially if it is food that you are interested in. At Walmart, for instance, not only can you find a carton of regular whole milk, but also mung bean, sesame seed-flavoured, and other non-western milks. There is produce of all sorts, including various Chinese cabbages, mangosteens, durians, and many other Asian fruit and vegetables. There are also bins filled with wheat, buckwheat, and rice noodles of various shapes and sizes as well as bins of meats, sausages, whole chickens (head and feet included), dozens of kinds of kimchi and other pickled vegetables, fish in tanks of water, and strips of raw beef  — all sold there as they are in nearby wet markets (i.e., markets that sell fresh and cooked foods). The dry goods section has every kind of Chinese packaged food imaginable. It is a store for the locals.

Despite many signs of the encroachment of Western corporate influence, Kunming is a laid-back city and is not as money-oriented as some of the other urban centres in the country (the few extravagant “designer” shops I’ve seen here are always empty!). It is a good and affordable place to eat whether you can read a menu or not. In fact, many have photographs of the food that is offered. Some restaurants and stalls do not even have the dishes advertised since they only sell one or two items. Even If a menu is written only in Chinese it is still easy to scan a crowd of diners and point to what looks tasty.

At the Keats School, our cook, Yi Yanling – who we call Ayi (auntie) – makes a dozen dishes, or so, for both lunch and supper. They consist of vegetables, tofu, and some meat but the majority are vegetarian due, no doubt, to the favourable vegetable-growing climate in Yunnan. Breakfast is predominantly Western–style, composed of fruit, fried eggs, bread, cakes, yogourt, and coffee; in addition there is always fried rice, a soup of some sort, tomatoes and cucumbers, and occasionally dumplings. Ayi has cooked over a hundred different dishes for us since September and I have been told she has at least two hundred recipes in her repertoire.

On the weekend we are on our own and I go to the alleyways behind the school toorder my favourite breakfast: hot soy milk and dough stick (here is a youtiao recipe), a tea egg, and/or baozi (steamed buns) filled with mushrooms, or tofu, or vegetables.

Kunming is a city of innumerable and delicious foods. Mushrooms, potatoes, noodles, and spice (which can also include Sichuan peppers)  – and the cooking of the many minority groups  – make eating an endlessly enjoyable activity.  Both the city and province offer countless dishes to taste and to savour. What more can a “chihuo” ask for?

As an aside, here is a link to China’s CCTV’s “A Bite of China” — seven 50-minute theme-based episodes filmed throughout the country by several of China’s filmmakers.

Below are three recipes for common dishes made in Kunming, Yunnan Province, and/or China.

Suhongdou (Crispy Red Beans) — Crispy red beans are made with mint or with the greens of the sow thistle plant (kucai – bitter vegetable). If youprefer you may substitute kale for the kucai or mint.

• 1 1lb. cooked red or azuki beans
• 1 small bunch (approx. 2 oz.) mint (kucai or kale), leaves chopped
• finely diced red or green pepper (optional)
• finely diced garlic (optional)
• 2 oz. flour
• salt
• oil

Put the flour in a bowl and add in a handful of beans. Coat the beans well with the flour. Transfer the beans to a plate, keeping as little flour as possible along with them and  repeat this process until all of the beans have been covered. Add extra flour to the bowl if needed.

Heat 4-5 tablespoons of oil in a wok, allow it it to get very hot, then add the beans. Fry the beans for 3-4 minutes. Stir occasionally. Remove the beans to a plate, leaving any oil behind in the wok.

Add another tablespoon of oil to the wok. When hot add the mint/kucai/kale, peppers, and garlic to the wok. Fry for 30 seconds then add the beans back into the wok. Add salt and stir until the ingredients are well mixed. You may mash the mixture slightly before serving on a plate.

  Image Courtesy of the Keats School, Kunming, Yunnan, China

Laonai Yangyu (Grandmother’s Potatoes)  — In Yunnan potatoes are called “yangyu” whereas in the rest of China they are called “tudou.” Laonai means paternal grandmother, however it is also commonly used by children to address an old woman.

• 1 lb. potatoes
• 1/4-1/3 cup oil
• 3-6 cloves of garlic, sliced
• 4 whole dried red chilies OR 1-2 fresh jalapeno or Serrano peppers, diced
• 4 green onions, chopped
• 1 teaspoon salt

Peel the potatoes, chop them into large chunks and boil in salted water. Meanwhile, slice the garlic, cut the dried peppers with scissors into small pieces or dice the fresh peppers, and chop the green onion into very small pieces. When the potatoes are cooked, drain them, transfer them to a cutting board and roughly chop them.

Heat the oil in a wok on medium to high heat and add all of the ingredients except for the potatoes. Stir for one minute, then add the chopped potatoes. Stir the whole mixture, making sure that the potatoes are well coated with the oil and mixed thoroughly with the other ingredients.

Now, with the back of a spoon or spatula, flatten the potatoes in the wok so that they have maximum contact with the cooking surface. Allow them to cook for another minute. Stir the potatoes and repeat the flattening once or twice before transferring to a plate.

Chayedan (Tea Egg) — Tea eggs are a popular savoury snack throughout China. I buy them on the weekends along with two baozi, as part of my breakfast.

• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1/8- 1/4 cup sugar
• 1/2 tsp. whole black peppercorns
• 4-8 whole cloves
• 2-3 whole star anise
• 1 stick cinnamon
• 4 Tbsp. loose black tea or 4 black tea bags
• 12 eggs

Place the eggs in a pot so that they are covered with water. Bring the water to a boil. Once the water boils, reduce heat to medium low and cook for 4-5 minutes. Remove the eggs and save the water. Once the eggs are cooled, crack the eggshells with the back of a spoon, with a knife, or on the countertop. The more cracks, the more designs on the eggs’ surface.

Add the remaining ingredients and the cracked eggs into the pot of reserved water. Bring this mixture to a boil, turn the heat down and simmer for 40 minutes. Turn the heat off and marinate the eggs further for two to six hours – and up to a day or two. The eggs will keep in the refrigerator for a few days.

The dark tea concoction imparts a sweet flavor that will be carried right to and through the yolk and adds a sepia marbled tint to the white of the eggs along with the cracks.

A short video on proper eating etiquette in China

A short video on fighting for the dinner bill – something I experienced: I literally fought and grabbed for the bill, making quite the scene with my Chinese friend in Beijing

 

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A friend and I recently took at weekend trip to Tuan Jie Zhen – a township that is about 30 kilometres outside Kunming. Bogi, a classmate from Hungary, and I stayed at the Heart 2 Heart Youth Hostel which is run by Heart to Heart Community Care.

Because there are very few social welfare benefits or resources for migrants, this organization works with these men, women, and families, in Kunming and the surrounding area. It helps them find housing and acquire skills for jobs, provides education to the children, and arranges health care for them. In addition to working with migrants, Heart to Heart Community Care sponsors cultural and educational activities and classes for the local community, with all profits from the hostel going to this organization. The hostel is located in Da He Village, on the outskirts Tuan Jie Zhen – a village-come-town that is sometimes referred to as an “urban village” and is mostly surrounded by farmland and forested hills.

My main purpose for the trip, besides getting away from Kunming for a couple of days, was to visit Rawdon Lau (who I met last year when I stayed at the Camellia Youth Hostel in Kunming). Rawdon heads the “Best of the Best” project which promotes cultural exchange, helps with environmental conservation on a grassroots level, and is socially active in local communities. Some time after my stay in March 2012, the Camellia Youth Hostel, and the hotel next door, were razed to the ground, falling victim to the rapid expansion and growth of urban China (the youth hostel was a stone’s throw from the Keats School, where I am currently studying Chinese, and I can see from my bedroom window the rubble that was left behind; nothing has been rebuilt since they tore the buildings down). Rawdon helped oversee the development of the Heart 2 Heart Youth Hostel and is now based there — when he is not shepherding other projects in China, returning to his home in Guandong Province, or travelling the world for work.

Bogi and I arrived in Tuan Jie Zhen close to suppertime that first afternoon so we took it easy and simply unwound from hectic Kunming. We ate bbq meat, fish, and vegetables and drank beer with the staff and one other hosteller. I enjoyed the stars for the first time in a while – something I hadn’t done since I was on my slow boat to China because the sky in Kunming is too polluted for them to be seen!

The next day, we headed out for a walk in the farmland near the forest of Woyunshan, and surrounded by other mountainous forests in the distance. We did not get very far since so much of our time was spent stopping to take photos. We happened upon a dozen or so black, tent-like structures which really piqued my interest.

There was a woman walking among the tents so I prodded Bogi (who speaks far better Chinese than I do) to ask her if we could take a look. It turned out that inside these tents is a mushroom growing business.  The next thing we knew we were being given a tour of this mycological enterprise.

In her article, “Season of Plenty: Yunnan’s Mushroom Harvest,” (Saveur, August 11, 2011), Beth Kracklauer writes:

“More than 800 varieties of edible mushroom grow in Yunnan,” said Zhou Yuankuang, secretary general of the Yunnan Mushroom Association, as he walked me through the workings of the local trade. “It is one of the most biodiverse places in the world.”

He explained that every day, between two and three in the morning, mushrooms arrive from all over the province. Large-scale dealers and exporters operate independently of the mushroom market, buying in quantity in county seats around Yunnan and taking the mushrooms back to Kunming or transporting them by airplane directly to other parts of China and to Japan, Italy, France, and the United States. Annually, mushroom exports earn dealers in Yunnan more than 650 million yuan ($100 million); sales to the rest of China bring in another 3 billion yuan ($450 million).

The man who gave us the tour oversees the business of growing what appeared to us to be porcini-like mushrooms. The following description of the mushroom farm is based on our understanding of his Chinese. Any inaccuracies are ours alone.

He told us that this part of Yunnan has the perfect climate for growing mushrooms because it is foggy, has dewy/moist mornings, and cool to warm temperatures. The area is a wide, fertile valley between forested mountains. Inside the tents, the temperature is kept at 27°C for growing and 17°C during harvesting/cropping. Each tent is made from black plastic tarp which helps keep the space warm, humid, and shady and each is used for a different phase of the mushroom growing cycle.

Our guide started the tour by showing us how the soil is prepared; it is a compost made from sawdust, wood shavings, nitrogen, gypsum, and older soil. It is all turned by hand, using pitchforks to aerate the soil, and is watered from time to time and covered with a plastic tarp to further promote decomposition. The compost develops as the raw ingredients are changed by the activity of microorganisms, heat, and chemical reactions.

The compost is then scooped and stuffed into, clear, oblong plastic (we are not actually certain of the composition of these bags) grow bags for mushroom cultivation; when filled they look like small logs.The filled bags are punctured and injected with mushroom spawn, laid one on top of the other on a bed of ash (to deter disease-like fungi and insects) and turned regularly to allow the air to circulate. It takes approximately 120 days for this spawn to take hold and grow in the bags. The bars are watered regularly and the relative humidity is kept high to minimize drying of the compost or the spawn. When they are ready, the mycelium (the vegetative part of the fungus) grows in multiple directions and the colour of the logs changes from brown to a yellowish-grey, pockmarked with white spots – fungus – throughout. These changes indicate that fusion has occurred. By paying close attention to the colours the mushroom farm employees can tell which log take has taken to the fungus injection; those that do not are re-injected.

After 120 days the grow bags are moved to another tent. The logs are removed from the bags and are leaned vertically against wires that are they strung horizontally between posts. They are then covered with plastic sheeting for a few more days, after which the farmers begin harvesting the mushrooms and can continue to do so multiple times over a six-month period. When this final process is complete the whole operation is repeated.

We were told that there are three qualities/sizes of mushrooms: small (just opened – the freshest and the most expensive), medium (more open and less expensive), and large  (the cheapest because they must be sold within a few days, before becoming too old and dehydrated). They sell these mushrooms in Yunnan and across China. However, the fungus-impregnated bars are also sold to mushroom growers in Japan, Korea, the U.S., and Europe.

That afternoon Bogi and I met Rawdon for a large and delicious lunch;we ate soup, spring rolls, bitter melons with pork, a spicy tofu dish, and a very typical dish found throughout China: tomato and scrambled eggs. Among the options we were offered as ingredients for our dishes were eel, and honey combs with fresh grubs. We decided against them.

After our lunch together, the three of us walked to a mostly abandoned Le Ju Village just a few kilometres outside of Tuan Jie Zhen. The village is located on a hillside and its most recent architecture is 100-200 years old. However, the village actually dates back much further; it has been occupied for about 600 years. The people of this village were Yizu (Yi minority).

 

Many of the houses there are two stories high and all are constructed from bricks made from the iron-filled local soil. A number of the outer walls are, additionally,covered with a paste of red clay. Some bricks contained hay, bran, and corn which helps keep the walls strong.

The layout of each house is a square and surrounds a central outdoor courtyard. The kitchens and communal areas are on the bottom floor and the bedrooms and other communal areas on the top, and each home has an outhouse. A multi-generational family would live together and additions were built as needed, next door to the homes. Family members could freely come and go from one house to the other via a gate between the two side-by-side homes.

Today, when walking through the alleyways, one can see that the houses are covered in vegetation and the inside wooden stairs and floors are in the process of decaying. A few everyday items from the most recent generation remain in these homes as vestiges of the past. We noted a number of such items, including, pots, shoes, furniture, textiles, and even an unused coffin. It seems that only a few homes remain occupied. As Rawdon described the village to us Bogi and I could imagine what it might have been like there, not too long ago, despite its ghost-like emptiness today.

Finally, at the top of the village and hill, we reached a surprisingly large temple (for such a small community of homes) that still has a permanent caretaker. He unlocked the doors so that we could go in and give a little prayer and some offerings (candy, apples, money, etc. – to bring us luck), as well take photographs. At the bottom as well as the top of the stairs leading to the temple is a protected votive offering and incense area. At the entrance of the temple itself, people leave pine needles on the ground. We asked the caretaker about some of the traditions but his dialect was so localized it was impossible for us to understand his answers – even Rawdon had difficulty following him. What Rawdon did tell us is that there are women who still come to pray monthly at this temple. The temple is graced by a variety of religions. Both Buddha and the local “Earth” Gods are worshipped. Two alters are housed just outside the temple: one contains a statue of Guan Yin (the Goddess of Mercy/Compassion that changes his/her form and gives protection and help to those in need. Families without children often pray to him/her). The second alter houses a statue of the God of Fortune.

In Tuan Jie Zhen many homes have spells written right on the walls/entrances as well as others written on paper and pasted up. Animal hooves and bones that are meant to offer protection can be seen hanging on the doors; cacti on the roofs serve a similar purpose. Additionally, the doors are decorated with mirrors, which are also meant to ward off the devil. As a common tradition in China, a lucky character “Fu” (which means good fortune, happiness, luck, and richness) is hung upside down on the doors of people’s homes. The character is upside down to mean “fu dao” which translates to “this fu is upside down” (literally). This is actually a play on words since the pronunciation for “fu dao le” is the same as another word with a different meaning and written in different characters – a word which means “arrived.” As a result “fu dao” suggests that fortune and good luck have arrived.

That night was quiet; Bogi and I went out for supper and then returned to our room. We were invited to Rawdon’s for breakfast for the following morning, met a colleague of his from Beijing, wandered the local market, had lunch, and returned to Kunming.

Acknowledgement: I wish to thank Bogi and Rawdon for helping me remember details for this blog entry.