Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [93]
Vicky calls John on Sunday morning about TV taping plans. “The producer would like to take Cheryl and Bill, with the two of you, me, and a video crew, on a one- or two-hour tour this afternoon of historic Chaozhou, where they will film the Jamisons’ reactions. He wants to know if they would be willing to sample street food from some of the most popular stands.” John frowns at the last part, but poses the question to Bill while Vicky holds.
“Sure,” Bill replies. “When we’ve got reliable local guides, we’ll try anything edible once.”
John relays the information and works out a time and place to meet Vicky and the producer. After hanging up, he says, “You’re braver than us. We’ve always been curious about the street food but have never had the guts—pardon the pun—to eat any.”
Patty proposes that we walk to the nearby Kaiyuan Temple, Chaozhou’s main attraction for Chinese tourists. As we leave the apartment building, she points out across the alley a small barbershop and a house where a woman sews sequins and beads on wedding gowns and evening wear. John spots an older gentleman outside his home and introduces him to us as a tailor. He’s obviously fond of John in more than a neighborly way, and invites us to come into his studio, where he replicates costumes of the Peking Opera and makes elaborate ornamental pieces such as fans and headdresses. He picks items for each of us to model for photos and takes care to pose John in a properly theatrical manner.
On the main street of the area, Patty shows us a curbside stand that specializes in medicinal herb drinks for motor-scooter riders, who pull up, place their order, chug it down, and putter off again. The business reminds John about a time when Mrs. Wu came down with a back ailment, in the period when they lived with the couple. “Her doctor made regular house calls on his motorbike. He always brought a live snake in a basket, killed it on the spot, and made a potion from it. The back problem went away. Just the thought of that drink would cure me.”
The twelve-hundred-year-old temple, one of the oldest in Guangdong province, is beautifully serene, despite its location in a bustling area, and artfully adorned with elaborate wood carvings and lovingly sculpted images of the Buddha. More people, mainly adults today, want photos of themselves with Cheryl, not even usually bothering to pose with the striking architecture or landscaping in the shot. Before we leave the grounds, Patty gives each of us coins to pass along to the beggars outside the gates, many of whom suffer from severe physical deformities.
Vicky joins us at a vegetarian restaurant across from the temple, one of a breed that attempts to make its dishes look like meat and fish preparations. “The idea,” Patty says, “is for vegetarians to be able to enjoy their food without any sense of deprivation.” To further that illusion, we get tofu in two principal forms, as pretend pieces of calamari, beef, and bacon on a kebab, and as faux fish fillets topped with greens and carrots, both reminding Cheryl of the similar “mock chicken legs” served in her junior-high cafeteria. A crispy potato bowl plays the role of a bird’s nest in a more earnest and effective performance. The cooks don’t disguise mushrooms, presented in two tasty preparations, or the stir-fried rice-flour noodles with bits of fresh and pickled vegetables, a good foil for the house’s red chile paste laced with Szechuan peppercorns and fermented black beans. As is the custom, rice arrives as the final course after other dishes are done.
During lunch, Vicky fills us in on the TV station and