The New Beachhutman Blog

Sadly George died suddenly in Beijing on 13 January 2009

There will be a GEORGE DAY on

WEDNESDAY 18 FEBRUARY 2009 2-5pm (Service and Wake)

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“You eat Chinese six times a week?”, the guy said incredulously. “Gee, I’d get ill man!”

There we were, the Magician, the Welsh teacher, the IT guy and BHM,  sitting in a Teppanyaki restaurant near Chaoyang park on Friday. After a heavy week for me, the suggestion from Magic had cheered me up no end. So there we were on stools along the curved side of the Teppan, supping beer - or in Magic’s case, cola - with the master Yaki chef stirring up a storm in front of us.

“Sure” I said, “I work with  Chinese team, we have lunch. It’s obviously Chinese. No big deal?” He shook his head, and made “Only in China” noises. Yes, I guess he was American. But it is true that many foreigners living here find it hard to handle a diet with almost exclusively Chinese food. As another wonderful long-standing resident had said to me over the filet mignon au poivre vert at Morels, “Zumtimes, George, you ‘ave to eat beef!!

So I’d been happy to come to Teppanyaki tonight. The shrimps were magnificent, the cubed beef steak almost soluble, the raw salmon and tuna with wasabi .... to dine for!

But the are two big snags with Teppanyaki.

The first is the hugely carnivorous nature of the food, which might, I confess, be in part to do with my fellow guests last night. I just can’t eat that much meat these days, Possibly because I do eat Chinese food so much, I find I need far more vegetables, and this is not a strength of the Teppanyaki format.

The second is the noise. Not the noise of happy diners, but the constant banging and scraping, chopping and turning, that goes on. This is achieved with two substantial flat steel slice things, and after a while I’d really quite like to escape to a table further away from the cheffing.

By the end of the meal I was unable to eat more meat, or even face a desert.

And today, I have flu, dammit. So it's agood thing I don't have to go to Shanghai today. But I do have to go to Vietnam on Friday next...... I wonder what they eat?

...and it's only January!

“As long as……”

.... I had Skyped back to Renee over the weekend, “the buggers promise me the  permit if the medical is OK this time!”

I was referring to a previous occasion on which I had undergone a medical examination in Beijing for the purposes of a work permit, only to be told after I had endured the rectal examination and associated indignities that I was to old for the work permit anyway. Too old! Me! AND they hadn’t bothered to tell me before, hand.

So this time when with a giggle smiley Renee had announced to me that I was to have another such examination in pursuit of a work - permit - visa - expert - certificate etc, I was waspish. Which is probably why John, with ever such an apologetic look, had leaned over the cube farm wall on Monday and told me that I needed to attend for another medical this morning. OK, I want things to work, and am pretty fit for an overweight old foreigner, so I’d agreed, albeit with a  slight sense of foreboding.

So this morning, coffee-less and snack-less, I had met John at a northern Beijing subway station, and we had whisked (I am quite fond of that verb, aren’t I?) ourselves by taxicab to the statutory foreigners medical examination centre in Haidan. Where I had expected the worst.

But fair do’s, it was bloody efficient and bloody fast. OK, it cost three times the cost of the medical a year ago in Chaoyang Hospital, and was actually less thorough (for example, John had no need to either ask me to piss in a pot or bend over so that the good doctor could …. I trust I do not have to draw a picture?

But it was blood test, ENT, Cardio, X-ray, Eyes, Weight and BMI, and out again in 30 minutes. All conducted by quite jolly Doctors and technicians, and, touch wood, I seem to be healthy enough to be a visiting expert. (I wonder what they’d make of Stephen Hawking?)

Do you know, in a way, I regret it wasn’t as thorough as the last. A full checkup  for about 20 quid was quite a bargain last year. Even at 60 this year, albeit at a vastly superior facility, I felt it didn’t tell me much. Even if the doctor wasn’t a fully trained proctologist, it’d nice to confirm that all those years of cooked tomatoes haven’t been in vain, Prostate-wise.

A sharp, sunny day in Beijing, and a general feeling that since I had had (note the use of the past perfect there, dammit, I’m working too much with English teachers these days) as I was saying, had had three really good late starts to the morning this week, felt well rested. Which sentence has wandered somewhat.

As I did subsequently. I had my morning espresso and a healthy snack, which knowledge I will share with you, that is to say I had one banana, and then took myself off to the subway, and from the there to Yuyuantan (Green Jade pool) Park.The pol in question is actually these days a lake complex, and it being winter, somewhat frozen. Who says the Beijingers don't know how to have fun in Winter? (not me)

There was a roped off area of the lake for skaters. Yuyuantan park has two large lakes, a river basin and a smaller fishing lake. Quite large for an inner city park even by Beijing standards.

A bit of private enterprise, renting out skates and  ......

Little buggies for the less confident!

After I walked right around the park, which is a fair old stroll, which got me back into a good Beijing-touristy mood. For I have rather been neglecting my weekend strolls to familiarise myself further with this place, a neglect that started in August when  due to the world school sports it was remarkably difficult to travel around Beijing, what with all the added security. Oh. And I was writing a book anyway. Anyway, my task for this tour is to visit the west of the city a bit more, which is where Yuyuantan park is.

A park tree well wrapped up aginst the cold and wind

All over Beijing you'll see thousands of these little bikes, with their besom brooms sticking up , which is why the streets and paths are so clean. The park cleaner herself  was having a walk (and a crafty cigarette) on the ice of the lake.

It was by now a pleasant enough day, the wind having disappeared, so I wandered back down to the subway. I  then got off at Xidan, and strolled on down to Tiananmen square in the late afternoon sun.On my way I stopped off to admire the Centre for Performing Arts, AKA the Dome, which is to the west of the square.

Yes, it's really big. And round.

The area around Tiananmen Square is always crawling with police and securuty (wonder why?). It is also the ceremonial centre of the city, so the roads can only really be crossed by underpasses, into which have been installed security checks and X ray machines.

The X ray machines in the Beijing subway and undepasses appear to be a very Chinese compromise. At rush hours one machine per entrance is not nearly enough for the people arriving, expecially as nearly all carry bags, rucksacks and cases, as well as assorted electronics, so it is a combination of random, "Oy! You! Gett that bag scanned!" and voluntary. At times when it is too congested I have seen people just saying "Oh, dammit" and walking around the machines. It's too crowded even to follow and apprehend such people. But around Tainanmen Square, no one risks that, not with the huge police presence.

So I left the photo sellers, and the tourists, and the police in their woolly caps, and the soldiers, and the touts, and headed for home, and grilled prawns with salad.

New Years Eve saw the inaugural meeting of the “Bridge Circle”. N and I had been talking about this for a while, and largely thanks to N’s organisational determination, we had assembled a small but select mob group of part-time-“I-used-to-play-a-bit” players (to wit, me and N) and some tyros, who wanted to learn. So we had established the meeting, and beforehand me and N went across the road for the essential supplies, that is to say beer (“Good grief, what’s that Coke for?”) and peanuts and snacks. We’d been quite restrained I thought, but at the checkout I think even N was a bit surprised - as he’d only taken out a 100 kuai note - when it was about 120.

It’s very obvious now.

I’m taking the day off, as it is a holiday, although I suspect someone is working in the office, and got up late, before strolling up to Lotus stores to replenish the freezer. I also bought a few treats,

(Which as I may have mentioned before, are pure evil, but indulgence)

And some necessities like prawns. But what I noticed was the pork. You see, in common with the entire Chinese nation, my favourite pork cut is the belly strip. Yes, it’s fatty and low in “meat”, and it has an almost inedible rind, and all of that I love. Chunked into a simple soup at night, grilled, red cooked in a Chinese stew, roasted and sliced when cold for a sandwich or salad, I love the stuff. When I arrived in China a tray of about six belly pork strips, say 400 grams, would have cost around 9 kuai, which at the time was equivalent to just under one Euro.

Today, the same quantity in Lotus was marked at 21 Kuia. That is now just under 3 Euro.

True, a lot of the hit for me is that the Euro cost is a lot higher, and that is partly due to the strengthening of the Chinese currency against the Euro. (The Chinese currency has been hit by global recession too, when the world stops buying, the workshop of the world has problems. But most of the world does not take a rosy long term view of the Euro, so even in these times, the Euro has fallen against the Chinese currency).

However, even if for me the price in Euro is three times what it was. In a way I don’t mind, because now it’s a bit of a treat, and Australian steak is really quite cheap. As are prawns. But for the Chinese it is still over twice as expensive as it was a bit over a year ago.

Other little clues abound. In the restaurant our daily lunch has gone up from about 70 Kuia for the five of us to about 100 - a 35% increase over a bit under 2 years.  More and more people at the checkouts are obviously saying, “Are you sure?” when told the costs. Restaurants are reprinting menus that have been set for years. Taxi drivers rather expect you to round up to the next five kuai.

Only in the markets are the prices fairly stable, for there is no exchange rate impact on local food yet. But it will happen. This is going to be a tough year in China I fear.

Leaving the office early on my way with R to a dinner appointment with a  potential pair of partners, we were crawling along what we call "Gongti" near the office (short for Gongren Tiyuchang Beilu, means "Workers' Stadium North Road, but everyone knows it as Gongti Beilu) we crawled past the Worker's Stadium, and I had time to admire their (sponsored) Christmas tree......

Daddy, I want one!

There were about 20 of us at table. That is to say, around the table, or distributed about the room.

We’d gathered for the Beachhutman Christmas Curry Collation, and events - for those who had read the invitation, began at 1.00, this writer now being unable to handle curry at dinner time. Even so, I had restrained myself somewhat, as Vindaloo and Madras are a bit hefty even for those accustomed to chilli. In China chilli comes rather unencumbered with cardamom and garam massala, so I felt I’d veer towards caution on this event. Anyway, we’d a good mixture of offerings, which as far as I can remember were:

Beef jalfreezi, chicken massala, Thai fish curry, tandoori chicken legs , chick peas in mustard and turmeric, lentil dall, eggplant and potato balti, cauliflower and mustard seeds, spicy cabbage with coconut, and chilli-fried eggs, with the usual rices, pickles, raita and poppadums. At the end, only the spare dall (well I did do a lot) and the extra chickpeas were left over, together with the rice.

Ah, the rice. We’d had a discussion over lunch the previous week about the rice. You see, I don’t have a rice cooker. I usually use the microwave, but almost without exception the first domestic purchase on setting up home here is a rice cooker, today nearly always electric. These range in cost from a tenner to 40 euros or more, and have capacity from a litre to about a gallon (you’ll appreciate me erffortlessly mixing metric and non metric there?). The advantage, I am told, of a rice cooker is that it keeps the rice warm after cooking it, which to be honest, I have not noticed as a priority in most restaurants I have eaten - I have rather got used to coldish rice.

So I had gone to the stores to look at a rice cooker, as I could indeed use one, but one that would be adequate for the party would be huge for my usual needs, and there seemed little point in making a purchase  just then, as my need was for rice in large quantities. So I had used the microwave method for the “Indian rice” (separate grains after cooking, not intended for chopsticks) and for the Thai sticky rice, with coconut, I had boiled it.

It was the Indian rice that was eaten. The sticky was largely left over. I didn’t do “Chinese rice” at all - it was supposed to be an Indian meal.

It’s always a bit interesting to find what is and isn’t eaten, or what is obviously “new”. On this one it was the poppadums that were unknown, and the raita that was mostly left. The concept of yoghurt and cucumber is maybe odd, although cucumber is eaten in vast quantities here, and yoghurt is becoming very popular, often as a drink. On a previous occasion, when I did the tapas night, it was the garlic mayo that went down a storm, although mayo is not a very Chinese thing.

Anyway, Monday. All done, all washed up, and kitchen and apartment returned to normality.

OK then, clean.

Back to work now. It looks a nice day outside.

This Christmas was pretty much the most “normal Christmas day I have ever had, and that includes my time in Saudi, where Christmas was still a form of bacchanalian orgy.

I did take the day off, and had the luxury of late arising, followed by two runny eggs with toastie soldiers, some of the special coffee, and a dab of the lime marmalade, while reading the papers online and listening to my local Spanish radio station.

Then it was time to start a chkdsk/f on the laptop, which has succumbed to a few dodgy folders, probably the result of downloading “Quantum of Solace” before DVD release, always a risk with new releases. So I left CHKDSK running, and went for a walk in Xinlong park, which was bright and sunny, and deserted.

On my return the process was still running, so I took myself off to Chaoyang Park. There I walked in the sunshine for a while, before popping into Jenny Lou’s for a jar of horseradish. Then home and a roast joint of fine Chinese beef, and my first Brussels since this time last year, and a side of roast pumpkin.  Over dinner I watched a DVD, then listened to radio 7.

All in all, a nice, calm, relaxing Christmas day. I may do it again next year!

Joy and dyspepsia to you all.

(Courtesy and copyright G Scarfe and the Times)

After my shelf buying expotition* the other day, I went out to see what the local department store might have by way of woolly hats. I drew a blank again, but did spend an enjoyable ( in a wierd sort of way) hour in Ito Yokado.

Sharper  minds among you, unbefuddled with Xmas cheer, may notice that ITO YOKADO does not sound Chinese. It is in fact Japponese* (*I DO know)

However, it is one of the big stores here, and is in some ways very Chinese. The groceries, the clothes sizes, the huge arrays of small domestic electical appliances, the over staffing. In other ways it seems to be strangely, well, anti-shopper. They hve a payment system there designed to frustrate the keenest shopper, as it is quite impossible, even in the pre-Christmas sales as at present, to pick up an item, take it to the cash desk, pay, and go. No. First you find an assistant. Then the assistant writes you a ticket. Then you go and find somehere to pay. They give you the stamped ticket back. Then you go and find the shop assistant, who has (theoretically) been waiting for you. The the assistant wraps the goods, and you go.

(I dirgress. It's what i do. How the hell do you think I can get to 30,00 words for a publisher WITHOUT digressing?)

Anyway. 

I noted the following.

1. Chinese shop girls do not naturally take to Santa hats. It's something in the bone structure. It is, rather, wierd. I refrain from mentioning the Santa in the household linens section.......

2. And I also noticed the music. While I was there I heard:

Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem, We three kings,  Deck the halls, and Adestes Fideles, as well as Santa claus is coming to town.

Makes you think.