Cooks, crooks and hoes

Two crooks a cook and 5 cent. That wont make any soup unless the crooks carry something stolen in their pockets which the cook can cook. With the 5 cent they can buy a pinch of salt.

My day today started like a tasteless soup and ended with delivery from a very decent italian restaurant. Caviar, Mozzarela caprese,  Canelloni and fresh tagliatelle with carbonara sauce. Not bad for a cook that became a crook

The Herring

Another fish in the pond

7.56 AM writing from my phone still in bed

I hate mondays, mondays are made for...I actually don't know what mondays are made for, except pain and agony. And I wasn't even drunk this weekend.

Rebecca could not get a cab this morning so she got picked up by a first time "black" taxi driver. Apperantly a neighbour in our  building. Maybe he's got problems paying the rent. He nervously asked for 20 yuan which is way too cheap on a rainy Monday morning in rush hour when a cab is probably the last thing you are gonna get.

A

Very special service

Parking guy on the street guarding bicycles:

35 degrees celcius and the guy is wearing a blue overall and a hat. I park my motorscooter and hangs my two helmets on one of the mirrors. Slips him a 5 yuan bill (usually its 0,5 yuan to park) and ask if he can keep an eye on the helmets for a while. I take off and comes back in 5 minutes. He had moved his chair and sat 30 centimeters from it and starred at my scooter all the time I was gone. He moved other bikes out of the way and stopped som traffic when I was about to go out on the road. All accompanied with him waving to me like a an airport ground staff. 

TheHerring


Welcome to my world of herring... or more correct the absence of herring

My fridge doesn't contain a single jar of swedish herring. The reason for that is I live in a country far far away with people that look quite similar to myself though with some changes, everyone have black hair, sort of tilted eyes and speak funny. But that is probably the smallest difference between them, whose country I live in and me. Another big difference is they don't particlarly seem to like small perfectly cut pieces of fish in jars in various sauces and marinades that melts in your mouth and gives you an almost orgasmic feeling.

Anyway, comparing the Chinese society using a jar of herring might for some sound very rare and strange. And maybe it is but I am going to do it anyway. With some herring on the table you usually have Swedes or any other northern European citizen sitting next to you, who all understands the refined complexity of this classic way of preparing fish. Goes way back to our ancestors when they had to do this to preserve the fish during the long and fearsome winters.

The Chinese also have a very long history of ancestors and different ways of prepare and preserve foods. There we have another similarity. Me and the Chinese. 

There most similarities stop.

Now, for those of you that think I am going to critizise China or the Chinese are wrong, I just want to shed some light on the very common differences between them and me, not saying that anything is right or wrong only that it is very very interresting. I am not gonna make a huge list saying this is different and that is not, but try to write down short anecdotes from real life, happenings to me or someone I know or maybe even things that happened in the past. I will not comment on these events or topics but let anyone who decides to read it wether it is different or not.

Herring to me is one of the strongest symbols of Sweden, I love it in all forms. Appreciated most accompanied with a frosted tiny shot glass on a foot filled to the brim with chilled bronze colored Aquavit - 40%

For the Chinese there is no such symbol, since there are so many people in China. Spread out on so many provinces that for each and every village they will have their speciality or symbol.

But since this blog will be all about generalising I will tell you something that can bee seen in a hutong restaurant at noon in the great city of Beijing. 

4 middle aged Chinese men sitting around a table with a huge pot boiling in the middle, a strong smell of garlic and spices is filling the air. Fumes are rising from the pot. There is raw food on little plates and dishes spread out across the table, meats, fish balls, lamb balls (actual testicles), vegetables and little bowls. These guys are loud and kind of obviously drunk. Holding their chopsticks in one hand, the glass of baijiu (56% Chinese rice liquor) and a lit cigarette in the other hand. This is the standard grip of utilities for this type of occasion called Hot Pot. They use the chopsticks to put the meats and other foods in the boiling stock and when it is ready to eat dip it in a small bowl with sauce. Never letting neither the glass, cigarette or chopsticks down. Inhaling smoke while they eat.


Then 10 minutes later they shout for the waiter -FUUUUUWWWWUUUUYAAAANNNNRRRR! Give us the bill! This is not seen as rude but perfectly normal behavior. Another 5 minutes later they pay leaving no tips, gets up and back to work.

TheHerring


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