Here are some odd things to note before you pack your bags and move here, besides the odd baby picture:
One: The gum is lousy. I dislike gum-chewing immensely but after a lunch of raw garlic (and no access to a toothbrush) it's good to keep a stick around to pop into your mouth so that you don't accidentally knock yourself out with your own breathe. (I had an anorexic secretary once who referred to a stick of sugar-free gum as "lunch." Sadly, it was, and that stick of gum kept me from punching her in her dragon-breath mouth. Death Breath, the result of ketosis, you are the scourge of China.)
There are a number of interesting foreign import gums, notably Korean, but to my tongue, they're a bit flat and weak tasting. The best chewing gum is Canadian--just about any brand packs WAY more punch than other nations. Canadian friends pack their bags with DVDs of Corner Gas and good gum.
One of my friends is a gum-chewer and when I mean "chew" I mean "snap and chomp." It's constant. When we work in the same office I have to put headphones on so that I don't turn towards her and scream, "Quit chewing like a DAMN COW." She's Southern--over sixty--you'd think she'd know better but apparently gum-chewing is de rigeur among a certain set and sadly she's in it. My mother is the worst when it comes to chomping gum--truly the champ. She does an open-mouth chomp of wild childlike glee, usually of Black Jack gum, and it's enough to make you run screaming from the room. (Another reason to be on the other side of the planet.)
Two: Forget panty hose. You'll be lucky to find sox that fit! While a few ladies still wear sheer stockings, in general, it's the thick tight that's found most commonly pulled over a layer of thick woolen underwear. I have a year's supply of knee-high hose of the sheer variety and a few pairs of pantyhose. Most of the year I wear those thick tights, purchased in the US, or nothing at all. There's not a lot of in-between type weather. It's either hot, or it's cold, just like dating a manic depressive.
Third: Bimbo. Bimbo is a Mexican company that has a huge stack in the bread/tortilla/sweet roll market here in China. (I call it "The Wonder Bread of Beijing.") They have many odd little buns and things which are filled with creamy lard-like substances. In Wumart this morning an overly-eager shopper tried to tell me that "this is bread it explode-a in mouf." I stared, open-mouthed in wonder, and shook off my comment, which was, "Honey, if I'm going to let something explode in my mouth it better buy me dinner first." Instead I smiled weakly and said thanks and still refused to buy it. I mean REALLY, I want to eat food, not date it. Good bread? Hard to find. Really, really hard to find. If you really love good food, make your own bread, or try to live near one of the few bakeries (like The German Bakery) that makes decent bread. Otherwise, learn to love the Bimbo. At least their mascot is cute.
Today's recipe: I have had a strange craving for Chili Dogs. I made my own chili (not the killer stew-for-two-days chili but a quickie one of ground beef, tomato sauce, cumin, chili powder, and a dash of mustard.) I used more mustard, cheese, Hormel hot dogs, my chili, and some bread (yes, it was Bimbo, damn it) and made myself a small slice of heaven. Some relish would have been nice, but I was content. There's more for dinner as well and I am counting the hours until I have done my daily one hour on the wii (Wiiiiiiii!) and then can enjoy my Chili Dog in peace. If you use a round hamburger bun and cut little notches into the hot dog so that it curls up around the chili, I believe you have a Coney Island dog. Could be wrong, though: in all the time I lived in NYC, I never once got to the fun places like Coney Island. Sigh. It's on my list now--to eat a Coney Island Dog in Coney Island. Not on my list--to have a date that would pay for one. I can manage just fine by myself, thank you.
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