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	<title>Beijing Haochi &#187; jen</title>
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	<link>http://beijinghaochi.com</link>
	<description>We eat, cook, and shoot in Beijing.</description>
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		<title>Nothing Says Winter Like Two Tons of Da Baicai  (Cabbage)</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_winter_cabbage/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_winter_cabbage/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 17 Nov 2011 12:41:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[LIFE]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cabbage]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[leeks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[winter]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1988</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/IMG_0652.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1996" title="IMG_0652" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/IMG_0652-1024x1024.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="614" /></a>

Nothing else in Beijing declares winter like the arrival of the city's piles 'o cabbage. My first year here, I thought snowfall on Old Hallow's Eve heralded the dreaded Beijing winter; my second, no snow in November, but wretchedly freezing winds told me it was time to haul out my down jackets; this year, it's mid-November, and - dare I say it? - it's still relatively mild (i.e. I am not clamouring for government heating yet). What has yet to fail me though, as a marker of the season, is the sight, and smell, of the city's hoard of government-subsidized cabbage. <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_winter_cabbage/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Travels in San Francisco: Ode to Food One Cannot Eat in Beijing (or, Farewell Christine!)</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/travels_in_sf_farewell_christine/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/travels_in_sf_farewell_christine/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 31 Oct 2011 11:59:14 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1952</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P1000626-copy1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1964" title="P1000626 copy" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P1000626-copy1-1024x683.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="410" /></a>

Apologies for the long hiatus readers, life has been a whirl of activity of late. I managed to escape the last of Beijing's summer sweats with a long sojourn in the U.S. The good news is that while we didn't blog it, I got to eat some amazing meals with Christine. The bad news is that these mealsoffood were in San Francisco, where Christine has returned in pursuit of that pesky phD. And so, the Beijing Haochi team is down one, and we have lost the brains behind the operation, not to mention our food stylist extraordinaire. In the spirit of viewing the glass as half full, we did get to pig out in my favorite food city in America. In honor of Christine, this post is entitled "Ode to Food One Cannot Eat in Beijing." <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/travels_in_sf_farewell_christine/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: King’s Mutton Soup</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/king%e2%80%99s-mutton-soup/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/king%e2%80%99s-mutton-soup/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 Jul 2011 16:13:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[eyeball]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[King's Mutton]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lamb]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mutton]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[restaurant]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1917</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="../wp-content/uploads/2011/07/eyeball.jpg"><img title="eyeball" src="../wp-content/uploads/2011/07/eyeball-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a> 
 
In defiance of the revolting pollution soup that we must wade through daily this summer to go about our Beijing business, I resist the temptation to write on cool drinks and icy treats, and will instead talk some hot, steamy mutton.  I wish I could claim to be contrairian, but this post on long-time favorite King's Mutton Soup was actually spurred by some pleasant dinner conversation on ... dissecting eyeballs. Talking about anything I've eaten, even utterly out of context, always fires up some memories. Besides, why dissect eyeballs for science when you can eat them for sustenance? (Ah, yummy. Ah, sarcasm. See picture above for a preview. )  But I run ahead of myself. Mutton is what this Shaanxi canteen <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/king%e2%80%99s-mutton-soup/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Travels in Yunnan: On Eating Flowers</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/yunnan-eating-flowers/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/yunnan-eating-flowers/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 18 Jun 2011 05:08:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[LIFE]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blossoms]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flowers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[yunnan]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1722</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/flowerplate.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1726" title="flowerplate" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/flowerplate-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a>

In a debate over what to eat in Yunnan, it'll always be a tough call. So many glorious options! So little time. On a recent and tragically food-deficient trip to Yunnan, I was denied the chance to stuff my face in a manner that paid proper respect to this region's culinary cornucopia. There are, after all, only 24 hours in a day, and much of my five days was spent zooming around in a car looking for commodities and stopping too late to eat, or stuck with a conference buffet. My obvious go-to choice here would be mushrooms, but I won't speak here of the stunning variety of wild mushrooms that this Southwestern province is famous for.  Partly because it's not the season, partly because it pains me that I didn't get to eat mushroom hotpot. Instead, in honor of springtime in this land of eternal Spring, I'll post an ode to the edible art growing about the region that I found plucked and ready to fry. As flowers are fragile, they ship poorly and taste best when cooked the same day - making these ingredients hard to come by in the desert that is Beijing. <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/yunnan-eating-flowers/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Deep-Fry Your Chili: Stir-Fried Cabbage (炒卷心菜)</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/stir-fried-cabbage/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/stir-fried-cabbage/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 07 Jun 2011 07:28:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[COOK]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cabbage]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[chili]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1811</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/cabbage5.jpg"><img title="cabbage5" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/cabbage5-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a>

Is there an easier dish to cook that's this ridiculously addictive? I'd say...no. And will have words with anyone who dare say otherwise.  I had a craving for this simple fare one day, bought two heads of cabbage and ate nothing else for three meals straight. Yet after I demolished both heads, I found myself hankering for another plate on day three. A tad embarrassing, but honestly, what's not to love? The cabbage is sweet and salty, juicy but still mildly crunchy, and it's even undeniably good for you. But if I am to be honest, the crux of the addiction is the hint of chili - not enough to make the dish spicy, yet leaves a tinge of fragrance on your tongue and in the air.  <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/stir-fried-cabbage/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>7</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Chinese Lemons (国产柠檬): A 23 Word Recipe for Meyer Lemon Curd</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/meyer-lemon-curd/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/meyer-lemon-curd/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 31 May 2011 17:14:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[COOK]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[LIFE]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lemon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[maison boulud]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1761</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/lemon4.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1765" title="lemon4" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/lemon4-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a>

One of the surprising wonders of living here is discovering some things you coveted back home are actually easy to find  in China. I'm not talking about Sichuan peppercorns, or a big bottle of beer for 3 <em>kuai</em> (40ish cents). I'm talking Meyer lemons, one of the sought-after treats from my life in Northern California. This little treasure is actually native to China, as I found out last year through the fabulous <a href="http://www.hawberry.net/2010/03/12/lemons-in-beijing/">Hawberries &#38; Kumquats</a> (thanks Shelley!). No one seems quite sure what a Meyer lemon's origin is, but this luscious citrus is best described as a cross between a lemon and an orange - slightly sweeter, thinner skinned... all the bright lemonosity you'd like yet without the sour pucker or bitter peel you've learned to expect. Thin skins means Meyers don't travel well, so unless you're lucky enough to live near Meyer lemon trees... <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/meyer-lemon-curd/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>10</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Just When You Thought Tofu Was Boring: Green Pea Tofu (豌豆副 wandoufu) with Sauces Galore</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/green_pea_tofu_wandoufu/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/green_pea_tofu_wandoufu/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 24 May 2011 06:57:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dali]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[green peas]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sauce]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tofu]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[yunnan]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1740</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/tofu1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1741" title="tofu1" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/tofu1-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a>

It looks like some kind of Frankenstein-esque health food. Tofu and green peas, two foods that don't often (ever?) inspire drooling or cravings, decide to join forces. Tofu is most commonly made with soybeans, but this is China, a land full of tofu love, and there are not only countless variations on soybean tofu, but tofu made from other beans as well. Here, in Dali, Yunnan, we encountered the green pea tofu (<em>wandou doufu</em> 豌豆豆腐). It looks like a corpulent hunk of cheese, has the consistency of an overly cooked flan, and little to recommend it by way of looks. <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/green_pea_tofu_wandoufu/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Travels in Burma: The Best of Street Food</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/burma_street_food/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/burma_street_food/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 18 May 2011 06:26:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[LIFE]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[burma]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Indian]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[samosa]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[shan noodles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thai]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1595</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="../wp-content/uploads/2011/05/makingnoodles.jpg"><img title="makingnoodles" src="../wp-content/uploads/2011/05/makingnoodles-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a>

Burma. Still quite the land of mystery, with only a smattering of tourists. For those who have been thinking of going, I heartly encourage it. It's stunning in its beauty, the people unbelievably warm, and there is always the scent of something roasted in the air. Burmese food is not well-known internationally (how many Burmese restaurants have you seen?) and though I enjoyed many meals there, I see why it's hard to translate. It's cuisine is influenced by its geography - borrowing flavors from neighbors India, China and Thailand, and centuries of migration between the countries means that in many parts of Burma, the local food will be dominated by one of those cuisines. Here's a rundown of the best ghetto street food we ran across while running across Burma. <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/burma_street_food/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Beijing Snacks (xiao chi 小吃): Huguosi’s Eats (护国寺总店)</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_snacks_huguosi/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_snacks_huguosi/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 06 Mar 2011 10:33:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beijing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[douzhi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Huguosi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jinggao]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mahua]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[miancha]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[snacks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[xiaochi]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1572</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/cakejelly1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1573" title="cakejelly1" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/cakejelly1-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" /></a>

Traditional old-school Beijing snacks are not as hard to find as you might think. Sure, many of the <em><strong>laozihao</strong></em> (traditional time-honored brands) in the older areas of Beijing have closed their doors or moved – the most famous collective packed up and moved to the Jiumen snack center at Shichihai (<a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_snacks_jiumenxiaochi/">see previous post</a>). However, many of these foods are still available widely in this city, and many Beijingers still start their mornings slurping <strong><em>douzhi</em></strong> (fermented mungbean juice) or pick up a box of <em><strong>jinggao</strong></em> for a snack. <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing_snacks_huguosi/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Travels in Suzhou: Twice-Cooked Egg Crepe (jidan guanbing 鸡蛋灌饼)</title>
		<link>http://beijinghaochi.com/suzhou-egg-crepe-jidan-guanbing/</link>
		<comments>http://beijinghaochi.com/suzhou-egg-crepe-jidan-guanbing/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 12 Feb 2011 09:55:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jen</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[EAT]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[LIFE]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[egg crepe]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[guanbing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jianbing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Suzhou]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://beijinghaochi.com/?p=1562</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<img class="alignnone size-large wp-image-1564" title="guanbing suzhou" src="http://beijinghaochi.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/guanbing1-1024x685.jpg" alt="" width="614" height="411" />

As a variation on our beloved theme of the Tianjin-style egg crepe <em>jianbing</em>, I'll post an ode to <em>jianbing</em>'s cousin, the <em>jidan guanbing</em> (鸡蛋灌饼), also roughly translated as egg crepe. Both are fantastic for late-night munchies or more traditionally, a quick on-the-go breakfast. As we've lovingly recorded in past <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/beijing-street-food-egg-crepe-jianbing/">posts</a>, the <em>jianbing</em> is a hefty sandwich-sized crepe filled with egg, a deep-fried crisp and assorted green bits. The <em>guanbing</em> is a less glamourous creature, a dough pocket with an egg poured into the center (the term guan 灌 means "to pour"). It's smaller, about the size of a pancake, and the oily crisp is replaced by some healthy lettuce (though it can be argued there is nothing healthy about a greasy <em>guanbing</em>).

As the humble, runty cousin of the glorious <em>jianbing</em>, it doesn't get much notice. However, in Suzhou off the west gate of the university, I met a <em>guanbing</em> genius. <a href="http://beijinghaochi.com/suzhou-egg-crepe-jidan-guanbing/">READ MORE</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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