winederlust

Restaurants: Dali Courtyard: Can't go wrong in a hutong

Beijing, China / June 1, 2010 / lunch

Winederlust Rating (details below): 8.75 out of 10 / Winederlust Worthy: Yes

For our last day in China, Jay and I wanted to try something different. We’d sampled a lot of pretty standard “Chinese food” – a few too many greasy, fried meats and vegetables passed around a Lazy Susan – but we hadn’t tried cuisine from the Yunnan province in the far southeast of China, which shares a border with Vietnam, Laos, and Burma. We’d read that this type of food was supposed to be lighter and fresher with mild spices, and that Dali Courtyard was one of the best places in Beijing to try it.

Dali Courtyard is hidden down a hutong, a narrow alley in one of Beijing’s historic neighborhoods (some of them date from the 1200s). At one time, most citizens of Beijing lived in the hutongs, but sadly many have now been knocked down and their residents moved to modern apartment buildings.

One of the most scenic areas of hutongs still in existence is called the Back Lakes. Some of the old grey buildings now house trendy boutiques, restaurants, and bars, though people also still live in others. (I’m not sure whether the residents still share a neighborhood bathroom as in the olden days.) This was our favorite neighborhood in the city – atmospheric and interesting with a fun mixture of old and new. (It reminded me of Beijing’s version of Paris’s Marais district.)

Dali Courtyard is a small restaurant with about eight tables outside in the courtyard and six tables inside. Strangely, the vibe is a little Venice Beach meets Mexico with a hippy-chic flair – lots of wood and rattan with a dusty bookshelf in the middle of the dining room.

There’s no menu at Dali Courtyard – they serve you whatever’s fresh that day. We ordered a bottle of Grace Vineyard's 2008 Cabernet Sauvignon to accompany our meal. It ended up being the most balanced Chinese wine we tried on the trip – fruity and big, but smooth with not too much oak.

Our first dish was a plate of dried mushrooms. If my eyes were closed I would have thought it was crunchy dried fish with a woody, salty flavor.

Dried mushrooms.

Next, we were served thin strips of tofu skin with mint. This dish was light and tangy, like a mint salad with a rice vinegar dressing.

Tofu skin with mint.

Our third dish was king oyster mushrooms in soy sauce with garlic – a tasty, rich flavor with a little bit of spice.

King oyster mushrooms.

Next came crispy fried chicken with lemongrass, kefir lime, and ginger. This was my least favorite dish – I thought the pieces of fried chicken were overly boney and chewy – but Jay enjoyed it.

Fried chicken with lemongrass, kefir lime, and ginger.

The chicken was followed by delicious plump, juicy shrimp with asparagus and chunks of fresh ginger.

Shrimp with asparagus and ginger.

Our next dish was a plate of fresh snow peas – the simplest dish we were served, but still very tasty.

Snow peas.

Finally we tried a whole grilled fish with lemongrass. Though the lemongrass sauce was a little heavy, the white fish meat was tender and flaky.

Grilled fish with lemongrass.

Overall, Dali Courtyard was one of our favorite meals in China, both for the fresh, light food and the interesting historic setting. Hopefully this is one hutong area that will remain in Beijing for a long time -- go while you can.

- by Liz Humphreys, Winederlust Eater in Chief

Winederlust Rating Details (out of 10):

Food: 9.0 (preparation, presentation & taste)

Wine: 9.0 (selection, recommendations, pairings & taste) 

Service: 8.5 (helpfulness, attentiveness, knowledge & pacing)

Place: 8.5 (location, view, decor & vibe)

Price Range: $$ (Moderate)

Essential Information: 

Dali Courtyard /  67 Xiaojingchang Hutong, Gulou Dongdajie, Dongcheng District, Beijing, China

Direct Line: (010) 8404-1430

Website: http://www.dalicourtyard.com/

Open daily 11:30am-11pm; prix fixe menus only (lunch menu for 100 yuan); reservations recommended and no credit cards accepted.

Restaurants: Beijing Night Markets: Snake, scorpion, and sea urchin

Beijing, China / May 31, 2010 / evening snack

Jay and I had heard tales of the legendary Beijing night market – that they sold still-live animals, blood and hearts, and other unappetizing tidbits. So of course we had to go.

The market itself is only a couple blocks long, with one stand after the next displaying its wares. Surprisingly, the whole affair is rather clean and sanitary-looking since it’s a huge tourist draw and regulated by the government.

Though still stuffed from the huge buffet meal we ate in the revolving restaurant atop our hotel (sadly, not worthy enough to write about here) we wanted to try something we couldn’t find anywhere else. The non-mouthwatering choices included centipedes, cicadas, sea horses, starfish, beetles, snake, scorpions (in small and large sizes), and all sorts of pig and cow innards, as well as more appealing needle fish, squid, and eel. (There were also flat patties that weren’t recognizable – but which the stall workers said were dog. One of them even produced a patty that he said was cat, though we weren’t sure whether to believe him.)

The only people who seemed to be consuming these unusual eats were Western tourists, most of them college boys doing it for a dare. The Asians were mainly eating sushi, dumplings, and noodles, and laughing and gawking at the Westerners choking down the unappetizing items.

 

We couldn't leave without sampling something, so Jay and I settled on trying the scorpions, in the small (and theoretically easier-to-swallow) size. They came fried, three to a stick. I went first. They were crunchy and, to me, just tasted like fried food with no distinctive flavor.

Making faces while eating scorpion on a stick.

Next we tried snake, opting for the already cut meat on a stick rather than the snake skin. The meat smelled a bit weird, almost gamey, and had a slightly bitter taste different from anything I’d tried before. (It did not taste like chicken!)

Snake doesn't taste like chicken.

Since we love sea urchin (at least at Japanese restaurants), we decided to go for one of those, though it looked and tasted a bit runny so we didn’t eat much of it.

Chinese sea urchin.

Finally we had some grilled eel on a stick. Minus the sweet Japanese sauce, it could have passed for warm unagi sashimi.

Grilled eel on a stick.

On the walk back to the hotel, we stumbled upon a grittier version of the night market with more Chinese tourists -- Wangfujing Snack Street, an area off of the fully pedestrianized Wangfujing Street. That’s where they had even less appetizing snacks like fried birds, lizards on sticks, tarantulas, and scorpions on sticks that were still alive. Jay and I were both glad we opted to try things at the first, more sanitized market.

Entrance to the much grittier night market off of Wangfujing Street.

Unfortunately, Jay also started having what seemed to be an allergic reaction to the scorpion. His nose and throat itched and we had to head back to our hotel for a Benedryl and for him to lie down. We looked up the dangers of eating fried scorpion on the Internet, but frying supposedly kills all the venom so we chose not to rush off to the hospital. (Luckily he felt better by morning.) No more scorpion for him!

- by Liz Humphreys, Winederlust Eater in Chief

Essential Information: 

Dong Hua Men Night Market / Dong Hua Men Avenue, West of Wang Fu Jing Avenue, Beijing

Wangfujing Snack Street / Off Wangfujing Street, Beijing

Open every evening, approximately 5-10pm.

Restaurants: Quanjude: Peking duck, pancakes, and plum sauce

Beijing, China / May 30, 2010 / dinner

Winederlust Rating (details below): 7.75 out of 10 / Winederlust Worthy: Yes

If Beijing could be said to have one signature dish, it would have to be Peking duck. It's said that this duck was first served as long ago as the Yuan Dynasty (1206-1368) and was a very popular dish for the emperor and his court during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644). During the 1700s, the upper classes started to eat Peking duck and, finally, in the 1800s, duck began to be served to those who could afford it with the opening of several Beijing restaurants specializing in Peking duck.

Quanjude was actually one of the first Peking duck restaurants to open in the city, in 1864. Their claim to fame is that they cook the ducks by hanging them in a large oven for about 45 minutes, over an open fire that uses the hardwood of peach or pear trees. This process leaves the skin crispy but the duck meat extremely tender and flavorful.

We started the meal with a sweet red wine that tasted like a manzanilla sherry and quickly switched to a Changyu Cabernet Sauvignon, earthy, chianti-like, and not too oaky.

Though we were teased by dishes of scallion and plum sauce next to each of our plates (which we knew would eventually go atop the duck!), lots of appetizers were set on the table while we awaited the main course: cucumber, thin strips of tofu, green seaweed, boiled duck parts, roast beef, chicken nuggets with shrimp crackers, sweet and sour meatballs, and beef with veggies.

I tried not to fill up as we awaited the main course, which was being carved on one side of the room.

Finally our server placed a plate of freshly carved duck and a dish of thin pancakes on the Lazy Susan.

Slices of Peking duck.

Then our server demonstrated how to construct a proper serving of Peking duck. First, dip a few pieces of duck in the plum sauce. Second, place the dipped duck into the middle of a pancake. Third, add a sprinkle of scallion.

Fourth, roll the duck pancake and fold the edges till you can hold it in your hand.

Finally, take a delicious bite! The duck was tender and smooth, with a pleasant tang from the plum sauce.

To finish the meal, we were brought steaming bowls of duck soup, which had a slight milky color but tasted like chicken broth – a soothing ending to a memorable Beijing meal.

Duck soup.

- by Liz Humphreys, Winederlust Eater in Chief

Winederlust Rating Details (out of 10):

Food: 8.0 (preparation, presentation & taste)

Wine: 7.5 (selection, recommendations, pairings & taste) 

Service: 7.5 (helpfulness, attentiveness, knowledge & pacing)

Place: 8.0 (location, view, decor & vibe)

Price Range: $ (Cheap)

Essential Information: 

Quanjude / 14 Qianmen Xidajie, Chongwen District (plus 5 other branches throughout Beijing), Beijing, China

Direct Line: 86-10-63018833

Website: http://www.quanjude.com.cn/e_about.html

Open daily 10:30am to 10pm; reservations recommended.

Wines we drink: Chinese Rice Wine (Jiu)

Typical rice wine 'liquor store' in Chongqing.

Despite 2000 years of struggle to unify the country's various peoples -- from Emperor Qin's forming of the Dynastic period to Mao's forcing of the Cultural Revolution -- there still is great division on one of the most important topics -- wine. Ordering a glass of wine in this country is akin to Russian roulette with a .45 pointed at your taste buds. Depending on what region you are visiting and the ethnicity of the server you are ordering from you might get variations from a clear moonshine-like liquor to a cloyingly sweet grape-based wine beverage.

It took us a while to straighten out exactly what we'd get when ordering. In most tourist-frequented restaurants the menu breaks down the wines into 'rice', 'dry' and 'sweet' and even 'liquor'. We assumed that dry and sweet were referring to grape-based wines. The Chinese have had a sweet tooth with grape wines -- lumping the grape in with other fruit wines and producing them in a similar style. Only in the last two decades have more western-style dry wines entered the market en mass with plantings of cabernet, merlot, and syrah produced with the help of foreign winemakers. Its now poised to be the largest market for 'wine' in the world - but that's another post.

We focused on the rice wines, but still weren't sure what we were going to get. Sometimes we pointed to the menu and got a quaint little ceramic jar filled with an earthy salty brown liquid - akin to a manzanilla sherry. Other requests summoned a little clear bottle of equally clear liquid that can only be described as drinking shards of red-hot crushed glass -- why was THAT under wine on the menu?? At one of our arranged meals we were presented with a little three-legged glass of a warm milky juice and the server said, "It's wine." We had to figure this out -- how else could we have proper pairings with our Schezuan pork jowls and crispy-fried scorpion? (Only somewhat kidding.)

The most common types of Chinese rice 'wine' (Jiu or MiJiu) you'll encounter are as follows...

BaiJiu

BaiJiu is a distilled alcoholic Chinese beverage normally derived from rice or wheat (in the north and west) and corn (in the south and east) and reaches alcohol by volume levels of 40 to 60 percent. The direct translation of BaiJiu into English is “white wine” -- one reason you'll be surprised if you order a white wine spritzer in Guilin. BaiJiu is more akin to vodka, moonshine, or paint thinner and will burn all the way down, hence the common name, shaojiu (burned liquor). It is considered the national drink of China and will inevitably show up on your dinner table to toast with new friends. 

BaiJui distilled brown rice wine 'liquor' in a ceramic bottle purchased at a Yichang convenience store for US $2.25.

120 proof BaiJui - great for cleaning open wounds or greasy car parts and not so much for drinking straight.

BaiJui is often used as the base for more adventurous medicinal cocktails, such as this poisonous snake wine for male virility.

HuangJiu

HuangJiu or “Huang (yellow) Jiu (wine)”is a generic term for alcohols made from rice that have been fermented. This is the broadest category of wines that have a vast classification based on levels of sweetness/dryness and production methods imparting a range of fragrances from 'sauce' to 'honey.' The color of most yellow wines is amber, or dark brown, and get their color during the brewing process as the sugars carmelize. The alcohol content is fairly low at 10-20 percent, making it smoother and easier to drink. Shaoxing wines are known to be the best style and highest quality production and are the ones you will most likely find in the Duty Free shop at the airport displayed in well-appointed ceramic vessels and gift-wrapped in red bows and gold-flaked paper. But just as Champagne has become a catch-all name applied to bubbly sparkling wine, importer Chinese Rice Wine notes the same has happened with the Shaoxing designation:

"Shaoxing Wine or Shaoxing Rice Wine: Shaoxing is an appellation. Shaoxing is an area of China about 100 miles Southwest of Shanghai and is famous for its rice wine production, much like Napa Valley or Bordeaux are known for their grape wine production. The combination of wind, rain, water and location combine to produce a glutinous rice that turns the Shaoxing wine into what is widely recognized as the best rice wine in the world. Unfortunately, not all Shaoxing wines are actually from Shaoxing, as over the years many rice wines have fraudulently put the name Shaoxing on their labels, the majority of them exported from Taiwan."

HuangJui is a fermented rice wine with lower alcohol and smoother flavors.

ChouJiu

ChouJiu is a version of HuangJiu that is an unfiltered rice wine similar to a Japanese nigori-style wine. It gained popularity in the Tang Dynasty (known to be a time of prosperity with a great emphasis on leisure-time activities, food and wine) with its capitol in today's Xi'an. Many of the wines, especially ChouJiu, were heated in three-legged wine vessels called Jia and, true to form, it is typically served warm today in the local restaurants. It has an earthy, salty, and slightly sweet taste.

 
ChouJui is an unfiltered rice wine from Xi'an and its environs normally served warm. Photo Credit: Ulterior Epicure

A couple local stores in NYC Chinatown carry an extensive array of Chinese rice wines:

Marks Wine & Spirits Ltd
53 Mott St @ Bayard St [map]
New York, NY 10013

Elizabeth Street Wine & Liquor
86 Elizabeth Street @ Grand Street [map]
New York, NY 10013