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.


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