The last few days have been filled with food indulgences but not your typical holiday fare. Our school celebrated the New Year’s at a Chinese version of the Four Seasons Sunday Buffet.
Usually, a picture is worth a thousand words. But in China, sometimes the translations are better, like Baked Pumpkin Mud. Imagine a Crème brûlée made with a pumpkin souffle, the sweet top a crispy layer of maple smoked bacon fat.
Money belly was tripe marinated in flavorful ginger and dark soy. Tripe has the woody texture of a tough mushroom stem. It was good.
Radish celery perfume. Put it this way. I wasn’t tempted to dab it behind my ears.
In spite of the good reviews, I stayed away from the potato juice and saved a little room for the flavors of Vietnam, where I boarded a train that night.
I went to Sapa and sampled the streets.
Actually, I was on a mission to bring Vietnamese honey back for my sisters. It doesn’t taste anything like what you squeeze from the clover bear in the states.
Imagine melting fruit loops into a sweet golden stickiness. That almost comes close. The honey is as fruity as maple syrup is mapley.
I indulged in the night market at Hekou.
One stop shopping for salmonella.
New Years resolution: only eat food that isn’t moving.