Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Motherload. A story of triumph.

Sure, it's irritating that you can be on an island off the coast of Thailand, yet, you can stop in a 7-Eleven, eat Italian sorbet, buy muesli imported from Norway, communicate with most anyone in English and send a postcard that may arrive in less than one week anywhere in the world. How Thailand, how?

In a city of 5 million, I only wish.

But this weekend, we discovered there are ways, with a little ingenuity and craft, to trick your mind in believing that you are far from street hawkers offering the usual Chinese fare of mystery. Sure, you can't have the sun and the gelato too, but some imports can make you forget about those, at least for the moment.

Let me start by saying that Gill is a master of scouring food blogs for their best. Without her, most of my favorite "foreign food" meals in China would not be possible: risotto, stuffing, homemade pizza, red curry, bacon wrapped shrimp and more. All from a hot plate or toaster oven. In my kitchen, I burnt my pancakes; actually they were charred. And they came from a box.

But this post isn't about my losses, but about last night, another triumph of Gill's. With two bottles of imported wine, one tasty, one putrid, we ate homemade bagels (thanks to Gill) jazzed with smoked salmon, pastrami, a large tomato slice, feta cheese and a good shaking of pepper. It tasted like an orchestra on my taste buds. Seriously, a jazzy perfection. I wasn't just trying to make sure that I secured a plate the next time she cooked; they really were the best tasting bagels I've ever had.

To live the expat life in China, one must be sleuth and hold a Metro membership, the key to the one import haven of ZZ. Life in China doesn't have to be as limiting as one may think.

(Not the bagels, but another masterpiece of Gill's.)


Now if only they could rid the sky of that constant gray haze...

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