everyone and their mother is in Asia

Newsfeed is flooded with everyone's graduate adventures in Asia, and as I scavenge my fridge for leftovers, I only feel bitter jealousy.  The food on that side of the world is incomparable, I'd say.

Noodles were probably the last thing I ate in Vietnam...surprisingly?  Maybe that's only surprising because in NC, 'pho' is basically synonymous with 'Vietnamese food.'  While I love a huge bowl of warm and spicy noodles in the winter, I wasn't about eating to sweat in shorts weather.  And I was economizing my stomach space... delicious and fresh seafood first, carbs and fluids second (but that's another post).
So these were probably the only two times I sucked down a bowl of noodles as my main meal.  The lighter one (top) with the cute heart-shaped piece of beef was from Ho Chi Minh City - apparently a famous place where Clinton ate with Chelsea.  My dad got a kick out of sitting at the same table they did (there was even a print out of what each person ordered).  Washed down with an iced Vietnamese coffee, and you'll have a happy belly before boarding a flight back up north (granted your flight isn't delayed for hours and you don't begin desperately searching for snackage.  Side note: Jetstar sucks).  Like a new mini-tradition, our last meal in Hanoi was also pho.  We had a spicier, oilier, heavier bowl of it (bottom) with tendon and spam-like meats I offered to my dad.  As delicious as the first couple gulps of broth were, the bolder flavor was more overwhelming than the clearer broth from HCM.  I greedily ate through half of it until I hit that block where you must choose between consciously inducing a food coma or self control.
This is how we chose to distinguish pho from northern versus southern Vietnam, but I wouldn't be able to be sure since my sample size was one each time.

While my dad was reliving his childhood with his elementary school buddies in 汉中 (too cute), I was fabricating my own childhood in the chili oil and pickled garlic that complemented almost every meal.  Not quite the same as Sichuan food, but pretty close.  Everyone's favorite question was "闺女吃辣吗?" (Does she eat spicy food?)  No worries, my stomach is my least sensitive organ.  The regional specialties we just had to try, according to Dad, were 肉夹馍 and 凉皮.  We all squeezed into one of the many tiny street side eateries and frantically ordered the same things with differing levels of spiciness.  I climbed onto the bus feeling simultaneously satisfied and in desperate need of some greens.

The centerpiece of our big family dinner in 北京 was a whole roasted lamb.  A family friend apparently spent time (in Tibet?) investigating and perfecting roasting practices to open one of the greatest eating establishments I've stepped into.  Not a sight for everyone, but I thought it was amazing when they brought in this whole roasted animal (Side note: how have I not witnessed a whole BBQ'd pig yet?  Must do before leaving NC?  Absolutely.)  We were provided fennel seeds and peanuts and a savory cumin seasoning and pickled veggies.  And once we concluded our first feast, they brought in a hot pot made with the bones and all the hot pot fixings as if we had the foresight to save stomach space for what was essentially a palate cleanser in second feast form.  My dad was quite inspired, proclaiming he'd like to start roasting his own lambs (yeah, okay, good luck with that).

In 西安, we were treated to dinner at... whatever this restaurant was.  I really tried figuring out what it was called, but Google was unsuccessful.  Here, where noodles are everywhere and prepared in every way imaginable, I was introduced to this new method of meticulously lining them up in stubby tubes before steaming.  They break it apart for you at the table and serve it with a meaty broth.
The restaurant also has house-made tofu and yogurt... which would be more interesting/useful if I could actually tell you the name of the place.

For us kids-of-immigrants, going back to China only means excessive eating.  Gorging on as much as possible before returning to the States where 'it's just not the same.'  I may be speaking for just myself... but actually, I don't think I am.  I had to entertain trailing behind my dad at every history museum we passed in between meals, but it was worth it... and I guess I needed something to do besides eat in between eating.  Hot pot buffets (complete with sauce bar) are heavenly things that need to exist wherever I finally settle.  And I'm drooling thinking about all the lazy susans piled high with the dishes that we will almost never be able to describe to anyone else.

 杭州 is all about freshness.  This leg of the trip was definitely detox for the heavier, more fragrant 陕西 cuisine.  I'll admit I longed for some sort of hot sauce with every meal, but I was appreciative of the replenishment of vegetables on my plate.  I was told the green tea here was very special, grown and packaged in the area (we got to walk through the tea farms, too) - my reaction was 'What area of China isn't known for their tea?'  But there were some dishes that featured it, most notably (in my memory), shrimp and these super cute apple-shaped desserts (bottom).  I examined one of these for quite a while before finally popping it in my mouth.  Sweet tea-scented paste encased in a flaky shell with a surprise cube of kiwi wrapped in the center.  I was upset I couldn't eat more than two (there were three of us at lunch), and I wanted a step by step instruction booklet on how to make them.

At a little tea house/restaurant tucked somewhere around Zhejiang University, I tried "steak" for dinner.  Or rather... a thin rectangle of meat coated in a thick and sweet butter sauce.  The meat was perfect and tender and if I didn't have a slight aversion to butter, I would've eaten the whole thing without scraping 2/3 of the sauce off.  Among all the offal and unknown veggies I gobbled down, this wins the award for Most Interesting Dish.

How can you set foot in 北京 and not make a beeline straight for Peking duck?  The crowded little streets lined with eateries and boutiques and rooftop bars were cute and all... but let's be serious.  You go to 北京 for the duck.  The meat, that crispy skin, the intensely sweet and salty sauce, the scallions, the paper thin pancakes.  Nothing else exists in the world for that one meal.

I was so full from limiting myself to eating half a duck (because I guess my family had to eat too...) that dinner was essentially late night food (because it was wayyyyyy past my usual dinner time of 5pm).  We went to a Sichuan restaurant near my aunt/uncle's home, and all I wanted was my usual order of 夫妻肺片.  Prettiest presentation I've ever seen.  Eaten with rice that's been soaked with the oil and washed down with a pitcher of watermelon juice for dessert.  Called it a night.

 We finally went shopping in 上海.  And I found nothing I was hoping to find (souvenirs included), but we did go to a Taiwan street food-themed restaurant where my dad grossly over-ordered because he thought everything would be in small portions.  Nope.  My favorites were the fried tofu (top), the thick carrot and egg pancake thing (not pictured), and the 剉冰 (bottom) that we couldn't resist ordering despite being full to bursting.  But it's like.. basically.. water, right?  I know what my Taiwanese friends would say here... and you know what, I haven't been lucky enough to go to the real place yet, so this is just going to be as close as I'm going to get, okay?

I've literally had to leave my bed to search the pantry twice before returning sad and less-than-satisfied whilst writing this.

Dear entire continent of Asia, 

I want you back.

With all my love,

Amelia