My last day in China featured my now legendary triumphal dinner. But first, in the morning I migrated from the Beijing DoubleTree to the Hilton at the airport because I had an early flight out the next morning. After checking in, but before taking off for the Summer Palace, I relaxed in the lobby lounge with some fried spring rolls. Nothing like good American-style Chinese food in China!
I was hungry at the Summer Palace, so I got the #1 snack at Beijing attractions: a hot dog. Unlike hot dogs at other attractions, a Summer Palace dog came on a bun instead of on a stick. Unfortunately, both the bun and the hot dog were grossly overcooked. Some “cumin crispy cartilege” probably would have been more appetizing.
I was pretty hungry when I got off the subway to head to the opera in the evening. But I was also running late. Just outside the subway, there were a few restaurants that seemed decent. I figured one of them must have an English menu. But I just didn’t have the time for a nice sit-down dinner. The alley that the theater was on was just a block away. During my police escort to the theater, I noticed one restaurant along the way. It was very brightly lit, like a diner. I figured it was the type of place where I could get a quick bite before the opera. There were lots of signs in the window. And not a word of English.
After I picked up my ticket at the theater, I headed back to the restaurant. Throughout my trip I had been vexed by English-free restaurants. But I was hungry, I had just enough time for something quick, and I was desperate to not have a bad hot dog be my last meal in China. On the short walk back to the restaurant, I broke out my Chinese app to remind myself of the words for rice (“fan”) and noodles (“mian tiao”). Nervously, I walked into the restaurant and up to the counter. The young woman greeted me with a smile.
“Uhhhh, fan?” I was met with silence. “Mian tiao?” Well, that was the secret word! This time I was met with a barrage of Mandarin, all lost on me, of course. However, I figured that the most likely thing she was asking me was what kind of noodles I wanted. So I upped the ante, asking for chicken with, “Ji?” I’m quite certain her smiling response was, “Ah, ji dan!” I nodded my head like a puppy, smiled back, and repeated, “Ji dan.” I sat myself at a table, wondering how my noodles with chicken eggs would be.
A server brought over a serving of pickled vegetables, mostly radish, to whet my appetite. Pickled vegetables aren’t normally my thing (well, other than pickles, naturally). But I actually enjoyed them. I knew there was no hope in getting a Diet Coke, so asked for a Coke. I got a blank stare. I made a drinking gesture and repeated, “Coke?” Nothing. “Pepsi?” Still nothing. I saw a beverage cooler next to the counter, so I walked up to it and got myself a bottle of Coke. No problem.
After a while, I finished my pickle platter, and my noodles with chicken eggs were nowhere in sight. I was getting a little nervous about the time, so I put my theater ticket on the table so they could see I had to make the show. (It seemed there were other people heading to the opera as well, and I’m sure they must get the theater rush all the time.) Even though “Coke” and “Pepsi” were hopelessly foreign words, it seems “sorry” was the one English word known at the place. A few times, the woman from the counter came over and said sorry because my dinner was taking so long. Finally, it came out. As you can see, it was a masterpiece!
I got full-grown chicken with my noodles, no eggs. It doesn’t really show in the picture, but it was really nice white chicken meat. And it was a huge serving. I was thrilled. So many times since arrived in China I had skipped a meal because I couldn’t find a restaurant with English. Turns out, I was missing out the whole time. I didn’t need a word of English! And really, I just needed 2 words in Chinese. “Mian tiao” and “ji”. (I’m still not sure exactly what the “ji dan” was all about, but it didn’t matter in the end.)
My dinner was delicious. And when I needed another Coke, I just had to point at my empty bottle. There was just one problem. I didn’t have time to finish the huge bowl of noodles. I had to leave so much of it, I felt absolutely terrible, especially considering how gracious they had been to this struggling-to-communicate foreigner. When I had almost no time left, I used my favorite Chinese word, “Maidan!” (“Check please!”) Instead of giving me a check, the woman just told me how much the total was. I was able to understand that it was twenty-something. I handed her 30 yuan, and she gave me my change. I couldn’t believe it when I did the math in my head. My huge bowl of noodles with chicken and 2 bottles of Coke (not to mention the pickled vegetables) came to $4 and change. I really need to go back to China so I can eat better the next time around.
My last meal in China: I came! I spoke Chinese! I conquered!
[Disclaimer: Many people have heard me state that I don’t eat red meat. However, I do eat red meat when I travel overseas. This is for two reasons. One, I don’t want to unnecessarily restrict myself when it comes to trying local dishes. Two, sometime it’s hard to get something that doesn’t contain beef or pork when eating overseas.]
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