eat drink seth liz

A short walk from our place is one of the best (and little-known) restaurants in Shanghai. It sits in a converted villa from the colonial days, surrounded by a heavy-on-the-feng-shui garden and lake, behind a tall iron fence guarded by a large staff of official looking fellows in blue uniforms who look more prepared to turn you away than welcome you to the best restaurant in Shanghai. (Okay, we really havn't been to that many shmancy restaurants so we're short on data points.) When you enter the villa's grounds there's a long walkway leading to the restaurant's entrance, flanked by polite signs telling you to stay away from the gardens. We have heard that this is a preferred hangout for old communist party officials and that you have to be well connected to gain access to the gardens. We would have loved to walk around the whole restaurant but we tourists are confined to a gorgeous little ghetto on the ground floor. There is a full time staff of people to shuttle you to the bathroom and back and to discourage too much exploring.

Photos: Here are two exterior shots of the restaurant/villa, located on Huashan Rd, near the intersection with Fuxing West.

Slideshow: Here are some more exterior shots and some food shots. Seth attempting to enjoy pig's feet (they taste great, but are nothing but bone); ribs;
some non-xiaolongbao soup dumplings; bok choi with fishlips; crab soup served over winter melon. Delicious. By the way, we highly recommend this place for dim sum.

Bonus video:
See the professionals making Xiaolongbao, to the tune of Billy Joel.

Stay tuned for a photo essay on the Lujiabang fabric market, with shots of our new outfits.

Last Saturday, inspired by Anthony Bourdain and other food adventurists, we took off in search of Shanghai's best Xiaolongbao and Tang Bao.

Xiaolongbao (xiao long bao), are a true Shanghai specialty. They are bite sized dumplings filled with soup and housing a small ball of pork. Quality dumplings are served boiling hot. Pop them in your mouth at your own peril. The little balls will explode in a giant burst of hot oily soup. Eat safely by dipping in vinegar, setting on a spoon, biting a hole in the side, and sucking the soup right out. Seth daringly sets his Xiaolongbao in his vinegar dish for a few moments then tosses them into his mouth. He prefers to absorb the flavors all together.

Xiaolongbao are fairly easy to find and we've been enjoying them since our arrival in Shanghai. Long before we arrived, however, we heard about its cousin, the mighty Tang Bao: a massive dumpling filled with hot soup and served with a straw. We were truly surprised to find that the Tang Bao is the Loch Ness Monster of Chinese dishes. Only a handful of people claimed to have tasted a Tang Bao though none could remember exactly where, and most knowledgeable people only heard rumors of their existence. After it became clear that Tang Bao really wasn't all that well known we did a bunch of man-on-the-street interviews and found that most people had no idea what we were talking about. A typical conversation (in Chinese) went like this:

Liz: Where can we get Tang Bao?

Man-on-Street: You can get Xiaolongbao at...

Liz: No, not Xiaolongbao, Tang Bao

M-o-S: You mean Xiaolongbao?

Liz: No, a BIG dumpling with SOUP in it. (by the way, 'Xiao' means little.)

M-o-S: Oh, Xiaolongbao!

Liz: (gesturing with hands around a large imaginary dumpling) Big! Not little! Big!

M-o-S: (shaking head) I have no idea what you're talking about.

Our Review

Here's our first attempt as food critics. We hope you enjoy our guide to soup dumplings. Let us know which dumplings look the most mouth watering. Leave a recommendation if you know of other great dumpling joints.

Jia Jia Tang Bao (Go early. They sell out by 1:00)

90 Huanghe Lu by Feng Yang Lu (around the corner from the Park Hotel)

This place specializes in serving Xiaolongbao hot and fresh. They prepare them after you order, right before your eyes. The dough is perfect, thin and translucent, not gummy and not too tough. The bags are perfectly shaped teardrops, each one pinched lightly at the top. In addition to pork, this place also serves crab and shrimp dumplings. We tried a crab-pork mix and found that while delicious the crab absorbed the soup and left the dumpling a little hollow.

In this slide show: Seth waiting for his dumplings. A very fancy English menu. Crab dumplings. (We ate our steaming hot pork Xiaolongbao so quickly, we didn't get a chance to snap a photo.) Seth wants more dumpings!

Shanghai Ren Jia

Jing'an Temple Area 1600 Nanjing Lu near Changde Lu

Shanghai Ren Jia is located on the fourth floor of an office building, which is problematic because buildings do not have fourth floors. Four is the thirteen of China. Buildings usual skip all floors ending in four and phone numbers ending in four are cheaper, and often sold to foreigners. The restaurant got around the four issue by giving their floor a name rather than a number. See the slideshow.

Shanghai Ren Jia was one of two places we found serving Tang Bao. Our giant Tang Bao were filled with warm soup swimming with bits of pork. The dumpling dough was tough and thick. Like a bread bowl, it seemed the dough functioned just as housing for the soup and was not worth eating. We had a great time drinking them through straws but they are definitely not as delicious as Xiaolongbao.
They reminded us of fair food, novel, but impossible to eat regularly. Asking for Tang Bao in Shanghai is akin to asking where to buy funnel cake or elephant ears in the US. We've all eaten them but who knows where to find one?

In this slide show: We don't need no stinking fourth floor. Finally, a Giant Soup Dumpling! The restaurant's urinal deserves a 6-star Michelin rating!

Din Tai Fung
2F unit 11A South block Xintiandi

These were the best Xiaolongbao we tasted. However, they are ten times the price of Jia Jia Tang Bao's and only marginally better. The soup is rich and delicious. The bags are translucent and pinched perfectly at the top. The bags are so delicate, you must pick them up carefully. A false move and you'll pierce them with a chopstick, popping the bag and causing the hot soup to explode. This would be a fun place to bring a bunch of people and sample all the dumplings on the menu.

In this slide show: pictures from Din Tai Fung.

Yu Yuan 

At this famous tourist destination, you can find both Tang Bao and Xiaolongbao. Many stalls sell Tang Bao, which were not served fresh. We found the dough dry and waxy and the soup oily and lukewarm. Shanghai Ren Jia's were much better.

The Xiaolongbao stall across from the giant water fountain is the most famous in Shanghai. You can't miss it. Look for the hour long line, crammed with Chinese tourists. Local Shanghainese are not impressed with this place and, after taking one nibble, we learned why. They're awful: thick, gooey, and bland. On the other hand, it's a real treat watching their operation in action!

In this slide show:
pictures from Yu Yuan Gardens.

Wang Jia Sha
Corner of NanjingXi Lu and Shimen Lu

Wag Jia Sha is a food court with mediocre dumplings. It is worth a stop if you're nearby but not worth a detour. The soup was tasty but a bit oily and the dumpling skin too robust.

In this slide show:
pictures of some mediocre dumplings.

[Insert Your Local Dumpling Joint Here]

Xiaolongbao joints are scattered all around Shanghai. These stands are not known for quality control. In any given order you will find fantastic Xiaolongbao on par with Jia Jia Tang Bao side by side with so-so dumplings.

In this slide show:
Some shots from our neighborhood joint at Gongyuan Rd. and Tianping Rd.

After two days of hiking Mt. Huangshan's unforgiving granite path, our feet needed a good soak. We found a hot springs spa nestled in the misty mountains, next to a Best Western. We were the first ones at the spa at 9am, and had to wait a bit to use all the pools, which the staff were filling with steaming hot spring water. There were about 15 pools, none of which were filled with pure unadulterated spring water. For some medicinal reason that was lost in translation, one of the pools was filled with cheap vodka heated to 40C by the spring water. Others were filled with green tea and flowers, and one with red wine (which smelled like rice wine with food coloring). Our favorites were side-by-side pools, one with milk and the other coffee grounds. We're not talking about Starbucks, or Peet's, or Zingerman's, or even Green Mountain Coffee. This was a tiny pool filled with 15 canisters of Nescafe! We could pop from one pool to the next very easily, but after the coffee pool it was necessary to rinse the grinds away.

One of the VIP pools (30RMB extra) contained a few thousand "kissing fish" which feed on flakes of dead skin. You pay for the privilege of being eaten by hundreds of tiny fish, jockeying for position around your cuticles and heels and toes. One must be diligent about keeping them out of your swimsuit. The feeling is ticklish, not painful.

We lifted this stock photo from the internet. Our spa was much fancier.

Bonus video: on the top of the mountain we both had brutal foot massages. The boys often preferred to beat rather than rub our feet.

On the last day we took a taxi to the notoriously cute village of Hongcun, which has an 80RMB entrance fee. Inside you can see authentic village houses and authentic village people trying to go about their lives, ignoring the hoards of tourists. Our taxi driver waited in the parking lot while we toured the village. (We strongly recommend hiring a driver for the day.)

Before our late flight back to Shanghai we hung out in Tunxi (15 minutes from the airport). Tunxi has a beautiful old shopping street, which is a great place to go if you have hundreds/thousands of dollars to spend on Chinese antiques.

This post is the second installment of our Funny Signs in China series.
Some of the signs aren't all that funny, actually, but we try not to have such high standards.

No public health campaign is really complete without cartoons scaring the kids. This educational cartoon about H1N1 plays on a continuous loop in the airport. ("It comes from America" is one of the fun facts, which we generously interpreted as meaning "The continents of N. and S. America".)

Five miles into our hike up Mt. Huangshan we came upon public toilets that received three stars from the APTA (Anhui Provincial Tourism Administration).
Unfortunately the sign didn't give any details about how these stars are acquired. How many can a toilet get? Is there grade inflation? Are the ratings distorted by bribes? In my imagination I can see the conversation at APTA headquarters...

APTA Deputy: Sir, the study we commissioned found that tourists in Anhui are terribly disappointed in the province's toilet quality.

APTA Chief: How do you propose that we deal with this situation?

APTA Deputy: What about a province-wide mandate, sir? With fines for violators!

APTA Chief: Yes, but we must use both sticks and carrots.

APTA Deputy: What do you mean?

APTA Chief: Let me tell you about the Michelin Guide's stars...

At the top of the mountain next to our shi-shi hotel we found one of the rare four star toilets, which gave us enough data points to extrapolate the system:

1 star: No feces on floors or walls. A door on each stall.

2 stars: Running water

3 stars: No smell of urine. Toilet paper dispensers and soap dispensers (no toilet paper or soap).

4 stars: Full-time bathroom attendant. Evidence that there was, at some time, soap in the soap dispenser.

5 stars: Soap.

This sign should be installed in front of all urinals!

Smoking is strictly forbidden! ...on this side of the line.

In China we have found there is a deliberate ambiguity between massage parlors and "massage parlors."

Here are some mildly amusing signs

BONUS PICTURES:

In our hike through the tea plantations outside Hangzhou we discovered a centuries-old Buddhist cave that was just dark enough to do some extended exposure photography. (Be sure to look at these in full screen mode. The button is in the bottom right corner of the slideshow.)

For your enjoyment, here are three slide shows from our night on Mt. Huang Shan. The Beihai Guesthouse was built during the early days of Mao and felt eerily like the remote hotel from Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of The Shining. It even included a Shining-esque group photo featuring a Chinese Jack Nicholson. To our surprise, we stayed in a cabin tucked away behind the basketball courts, not in the hotel proper. (Remember when you view the photos that there are no roads on the mountain. Everything you see was carried in.)

In this Album: Our accommodation at the Beihai hotel. Who can spot the Chinese Jack Nicholson? Our cozy cabin in the woods which would have been peaceful if our neighbors hadn't stayed up late playing the rowdiest game of mahjong this side of the Yangtze. From our front stoop we could see a hotel under construction in the distance.

In this Album: Stone Work: carved lion and steps with granite railings chiseled to look like wood. (Who has the patience to chisel granite?) The hotel's tent option. We suspect that they do not advertise the tents as "conveniently located on the cement basketball court". Misty mountain b-ball. Padlocks bought in tourists shops and attached to chains all over the mountain. We don't know why. Our post-hike dinner.

In this Slide Show: Seth at 5:30am trying to enjoy the sunrise. Just waiting for the inconsiderate American tourists to stop Bogarting our view. Misty mountain beauty.

This weekend we flew to the yellow mountains to discover why people say that once you climb Mt. Huangshan, you never want to climb another mountain again.
It turns out that Mt. Huangshan is the single largest stairmaster in the world, if not the universe. From the moment you pay your 230RMB entrance fee to the moment you check into your 4 star mountain top hotel, there is neither the necessity nor the opportunity to leave the steep granite stairway that stretches 10 miles from bottom to top.

The views from the mountain are truly striking and changing all the time as the mist flows through the slender peaks. We kept the trigger on our camera cocked at all times because the perfect photo could be completely swallowed by mist within seconds. We expected to trade the noise of Shanghai for some peaceful time in nature. Unexpectedly, the mountain stairway was packed so full of people we had to sharpen our elbows to push past the crowds like we were forcing our way out of a Shanghai subway car.

We prepared for the hike by packing a full day's worth of provisions, which turned out to be totally unnecessary, because, at predictable 15 minute intervals we would come upon well stocked stands selling water, beer, hot noodles, frozen popsicles and all the tchotchkes you desire. (It's important to note here that everything, including the full-size freezers are hiked up the steep granite stairway. There are no roads whatsoever.) Whoever designed the mountain path had no illusions about respect for nature in China because they stationed stone trashcans every 30 or 40 feet. Even so, many of the hikers could not wait that long to toss their bottles and used cigarette packs. (Smoking on a mountain hike? Yes! And there's even engraved "Smoke Here" signs on the walkways.)

The mountain is shockingly developed. We were surprised that all the food stations are equipped with TVs, radios, and refrigerators, but even more surprised that the highest peaks of the mountain support several hotels and local offices for the police, bank of china, china post, and china telecom. (Again, remember there are no roads or helipads.) How do these establishments get supplies, you may ask? Well, one could conceivably use the cablecars at night to shuttle supplies to the hotels but from what we can tell, everything that goes in or out is carried by a steady stream of laborers with bamboo yokes. Among other things, we saw them carry food and vegetables, used laundry (going down), fresh laundry (going up), bags of cement, steel rebar, floor tiles, tanks of fuel, and crates of water.

More news from the mountain top in our next blog posts. Do you know the difference between a 3-star and 4-star rated public toilet? Answer coming soon!

It's inexpensive to treat yourself right in China.  Last Sunday we took a trip to the hair salon and foot massage parlor, which absorbed pretty much our whole afternoon.  At the hair salon you begin with a frothy in-chair shampoo and head massage which lasts about 15 minutes but seems much longer.  The bubbly shampoo froth continues to pile higher and higher and just when the mountain of suds are about to topple over, they walk you over to the sink for a hose down.  Then comes the 20 minute head, shoulder, arm, and lower back massage, which sounds nice, but is actually very painful. 

Like tag team wrestling pros, the massage and shampoo duo trade places with a hair cutting duo.  The hair cutting duo consists of a stylist and their personal sergeon assitant who hands the stylist various hair cutting implements such as serated and straight scissors, blow dryers, and electric shavers. 

Some of you know that Liz has been working on growing her hair out for almost a year now.  She took a major setback last Sunday, when despite repeating the words 'just a little' 'Yi dian dian',  the hair dresser clipped off most of her locks then used a hair dryer to poof up what remained into a style fit for the 60's. 

After the hair salon, we made our way over to the foot massage parlor.  Unlike tranquil upscale joints in the US, foot massages here are a blue collar affair. An old TV played period piece dramas on CCTV while the masseurs worked on our feet and gossiped away. (We won't talk about how bad CCTV is.  Use your imagination.)

We think the masseurs were shocked and saddend by the sorry state of our American feet.  Foot maintence is a huge priorty here. We have four foot massage parlors on our block alone and every joe shmoe here ducks in for their weekly foot massage fix. 

Our masseurs decided that soaking and massaging were not enough for our feet. So they brought in the big guns and took a straight edge razor to our toes and heels.   We closed our eyes and tried not to move as they deftly scraped away excess toe nails, dry skin, and bits of old lint.  We walked out without a scratch, our feet as soft as a baby's belly.

Tomorrow we head off to Huang Shan.  Legend has it, once you climb this peak you'll never want to climb another mountain in your life.  Expect some great pictures of our journey.