A Fat Purple Fig

The food on our trip has been nothing short of astounding. We have been lucky to have our locations and dishes chosen for us, thereby benefitting both from insider knowledge and the generosity of our guides.

It has been an absolute gift.

Our meals have been enjoyed around circular tables, turntable at the ready. In Australia, we think of the turntable as a ‘lazy Susan’, a term coined in the US in the early 1900s (I suspect Susan was far from lazy). In fact, circular dining in China dates back over a thousand years.

I declare it the greatest of all meal-sharing inventions.

We are led into private dining rooms that mostly feature two large tables, set and ready to go. The settings almost always include two bottles of soft drink – Coke and Sprite – and a jug of tea. And if the dishes haven’t beaten us to the table, they soon begin to filter in. They land in the open areas first, then are shuffled and re-organised as the table grows crowded.

Over time, the turntable becomes a spinning, pausing, sizzling, changeable smorgasbord, with sets of snapping chopsticks stretching across it, snaring a-bit-of-this and a-bit-of-that.

‘Finished‘, Magnus says, resting his chopsticks.

‘First finished,’ I reply.

This means I have decided to finish eating…but only for the first time. I will likely finish for a second time, and possibly a third. And, should the right morsel still be whispering my name from across the turntable, I may continue finishing, right up until we leave.

The best thing about this? I never feel overfull. In fact, the only time I don’t feel too crash hot is when I indulge in too many (cold) fried onion rings and fried (not sure) balls, that are evidently included to satisfy our Western preferences.

I should have known better.

Our meals are a glorious gastronomic blur, from which I draw the following memorable favourites:

The ‘Always on Point’ Award(s)

• Any and all whole fishes (despite, on occasion, being absolutely riddled with the finest bones I have ever encountered). Perhaps the work maketh the taste…turning tiny slithers of bone-free flesh into something earned, as opposed to scoffed, willy-nilly. The version below, drenched in garlic and red Sichuan peppercorns, is nothing short of sensational.
• Tofu, in any form. I include this less-than-stellar image of a knot of tofu skin. I don’t have time to do a better job of it, because I really want to eat it. These chefs do marvellous things with tofu, and I am quite taken with them all.

The ‘Oft Underestimated’ Award(s)

This one goes to a pair of soups. Underestimated, because soups are…well, soup. Objectively, I understand that they can be great, but their very form seems to relegate them to ho-hum territory. Not so Chinese soups, which are FAB.

• Soup One is a lamb version, served at our wonderful lunch at CUMT. Director Chen tells us this is a Xúzhōu speciality. It is a clear, brown broth, dotted with cabbage and green onions. The lamb flavour is to die for (and I’m not even a lamb afficionado). Quietly perfect.
• Soup Two is an undocumented mystery. I have little to go on but my memory of its taste. A blur of goodness, it is creamy, in both colour and texture, and there are peanuts. I enjoy it so much, I offer a ‘this soup is very good,’ to the table.

The ‘What the Heck?’ Award

This one goes to the sweet sweet potatoes. I remember eating a truly surprising sweet potato in Jiāmùsī, and these examples are definitely pulled from the same patch.

• Plate One arrives piping hot and sticky, and forms fine, sweet threads between the serving plate and mine. As it cools, it transforms into a mass of sweet potato toffee that I return to, again and again.
• Plate Two, dressed in sesame seeds, is also the hands-down winner of any ‘I want to stop, but just one more’ award. It beats out Plate One by a sticky thread, by staying grabbable with chopsticks long after cooling. Irresistible.

The ‘Local Legend’ Award

As evidenced by its strong showing in these awards, lunch at CUMT is top notch. Not only does it feature the lamb soup (and dōng pō ròu, AND poetry), but it is also the meal that introduces us to Xúzhōu‘s 烙馍卷馓子 (flatbread rolled with sǎnzi).

I am predisposed to enjoy things that 1. are wrapped, and 2. involve me choosing what toppings to include (generally everything on offer). Except this time, I don’t really understand how sǎnzi, a twisted, fried dough stick, can take on the role of ‘filling’.

‘You mean, we wrap the twisty thing in the wrap?‘

Well, colour me corrected. The first crunch of my sǎnzi wrap, dressed in green onion, seasoned salt, mystery sauce, and mystery beans, is a lesson in texture. Utterly delicious, utterly unique. Its welcome arrangement appears on tables at all times of the day during our stay in Xúzhōu.

The ‘Crowning Glory’ Award

Ok, confession…this is our only dessert. This should not, in any way, detract from how good this steamed cake is. And there are plenty of reasons it earns its crown:

1. It is our only dessert.
2. It sits there, garnering interest, for the duration of the meal, like an aloof guest at a party.
3. There aren’t enough slices for one each, so the tension is palpable (or maybe just to me?).
4. Eating it involves pairs pulling slices apart like Christmas crackers, then laughing at the injustice of the resulting ‘halves’.
5. And, last but not least, it tastes terrific.

The Goldilocks cake: not too savoury, not too sweet…just right.

The ‘We Are In China!’ Award

After our tour of the Xúzhōu Museum, we cross a busy road, walk beneath a wedding banner, and arrive at this little gem. The restaurant is preparing to cater the pending wedding, spraying bucketed seafood with hoses and plucking feathers from chicken carcasses. Trays of ingredients line the way: whole fish, a riot of chillis, silver bowls of sauces, marinades, and dressings.

When we request rice, they bring us bread (apologetically), then dash out to purchase rice in takeaway containers.

The wedding guests are in for a treat.

The ‘Top of the Pecking Order’ Award

Dining at ‘that chicken restaurant’ is an absolute blast. The entryway is lined on either side with food displays: hanging meat and chicken feet, skewers, sǎnzi, squid, and more. Filled with couples and families – laughing, chatting, relaxing – its soundtrack is topped by a constant ‘brk, brk, brk’ that makes it seem as though a flock of chickens might be scratching, just around the corner.

Our signature chicken dish alights from a red palanquin, its poles carried on either side by a red-bereted attendant. An announcement is made and a ceremonial gong is struck, just as the chicken is placed on the table. Then, the sound of chickens fades as the next special makes its way to the next lucky table.

Every dish is worthy of such fanfare.

Between the sights, the smells, and the theatre of it all, this restaurant sits at the top of the pecking order.

If I lived here, I would eat here every week.