Beijing Diary: Part 11

The rain eased off and we returned to the hotel to wait for Gordon who showed up promptly at 5 pm. We sat having a beer in the lobby, catching up on what we had been doing over the previous two days.  Gordon had been busy preparing for the opening of a show that was part of a large exhibition of photography and videos taking place in several galleries.

Then we set off to find the restaurant that had been recommended for Peking Duck. Since it was Friday night, the sidewalks were becoming crowded , so it was impossible to walk three abreast. Gordon had the address, and were were eventually on the right section, the east, of the right street. But the numbering system for businesses is not straightforward; as we first entered the east section, the first building on the corner was numbered 2-30, the second segment of the number then decreasing by two’s to about 2-20, then came 4-30, with a similarly decreasing number, then 6-xx,, 8-xx, then…28! The address we hd been given was number 26, but we had not passed a single restaurant in that section. Gordon knew that the next section of the road contained a large number of restaurants so we changed the focus of our search to look for a “good” restaurant, one that simply appealed to us. Most had barkers out front, trying to entice us in for a meal, but we eventually settled on one that had an interesting, if crowded interior.

It turned out o be a hot-pot restaurant. Each table for four had a recess in the middle with a gas burner. 

Gordon selected a number of plates of meat, fish balls and sauces for dipping, while we selected the vegetables. A large metal bowl was then set in the recess, the flame lit, and the broth we had selected (some kind of vegetable broth with wild mushrooms) was set to heat up. When that was ready we started adding sliced potatoes, and turnip sticks, and then waited for those to cook a little before adding some meat. We were the only westerners there, and in spite of Gordon’s expertise, were clearly not familiar with how the meal should proceed. At which point a waitress took charge. She indicated the order in which we were to add the various ingredients, and stepped in as well to help serve when they were cooked. At one point, Heather, who had added a fresh serving of thinly sliced marbled beef, removed some pieces to her plate, but Miss Dominant rushed in and ordered Heather to return them to the broth; in her opinion,they were not cooked. So much for medium rare!

It was a novel experience, and one I would love to repeat. Next time I would like to try have a supplementary bowl in the middle where fish can cook in its own broth, as we saw the adjacent table do.

When we left, it seemed that all the staff were lining up to say good-bye. We thanked them all with Xie! Xie!, and bowed just as they bowed to us. We strolled back in a leisurely fashion, taking in the sights and sounds for the last time on this trip.

At the hotel we said farewell to Gordon, with a promise to return to Beijing the next time we were on our way to Australia. He seemed a little sad to see us leave, as we were to leave him.