Follow the Students: Midnight Snacks at the University (CHINA - part 1 of 1)

The mood of the small gathering of vendors quietly filling orders of freshly made, comfort foods reminds me of a potluck meeting of a secret society, subdued, and relaxed, but with an undercurrent of excited energy. In the background, crepe batter sizzles against the hot griddle, interrupting the few, broken conversations. An egg is cracked and the yolk broken over the quickly drying batter. A small sprinkle of chopped scallions and cilantro, followed by briny, preserved shredded turnip, create a colorful landscape on the thin, spongy surface. A quick flip and the bottom of the disc is brushed with hoisin sauce (Chinese bbq-sauce of preserved soybeans), garnished with chili powder, and and a spoonful of crushed peanuts. The burning package, folded into a square and stuffed into a scrap of paper, warms our chilled fingers. It is the first time since Spain where a jacket and scarf (even gloves for a some) are required and few of us are prepared. Welcome to Shanghai.



BRIEF BACKTRACK
Prior to arriving in Shanghai our first stop in China was Hong Kong. For some geography reference, the region is divided by a straight of water into Hong Kong Island and Kowloon Penninsula (attached to the mainland). The island portion is the financial hub of the state. The streets reminisce of any large, urban center, San Francisco or New York with towering, imposing buildings and sleek, modern designs. Kowloon captures more of the local Hong Kong culture. Despite the masses of foreigners and locals flooding the shadowed streets below, the city was absent of the street carts I've become accustomed to seeing in Asia. The dearth of street vending activity in the downtown district took me by surprise. Open storefront counters selling mostly skewered fish balls, octopus tentacles, and other assorted grilled or fried meats and vegetables came the closet to cheap-eats, roadside vending. Locals bunched around each of these stalls in tight bubbles with a similar air to other street food customers around the world. I was lucky enough to follow a friend living in Hong Kong for the year to a legitimate hole-in-the-wall "cart" for an authentic, crispy honeycomb egg waffle called “ge zi bing” 格仔餠 "grid cake", named for the pocketed iron griddle it is cooked in. My friend in Hong Kong mourns the disappearance of these traditional hawkers as local authorities have been cracking down on sanitary regulations and forcing vendors into actual stores. This restriction has eliminated some vendors from the business and is perhaps lowering the incentive for the remaining to dish out first-rate waffles. When considering the actual snack itself, there isn't much to tamper with that would degrade the quality of a true ge zi bing. Motivation and incentive rather than skill or quality ingredients appear to be the culprits against excellence for the dessert snack.



MAINLAND
Crossing back over to Shanghai, we met up with a friend of a friend who has been living and studying in the city for nearly three years. Upon hearing of my interest in learning the local food culture, he enthusiastically promised to take us to his University later in the evening to partake in a gathering of street vendors.

In the late evening hours, vendors cluster around the main gates of the most Universities to take advantage of hungry student appetites. Between 10:30 PM to 1:00 in the morning, they set up their rickety and rusty carts to offer a Chinese version of "late night / take-out" to passersby. The food is as equally greasy, hot, and comforting as buffalo wings, hamburgers, and fries, but truly much more ingeniously executed. I may be biased, but at 3-4 RMB (~ $0.5) a pop, you can't beat the price. The vendor turnout was relatively small in comparison to food markets from previous countries we've visited. Nevertheless, it was probably the largest organized group of vendors I saw in Shanghai. A handful of owners, perhaps six at most, congregate at each gate of the University. They appear to coordinate food types with one another as there were no duplicate offerings at each location, though some vendors offered replica foods at different gates. We ate our way around the vendors starting with an incredible spiced and braised pork, finely chopped before being stuffed into a toasted white "mantou" bun. The meat was topped with minced scallions and cilantro and given a douse of juices from the braise. Following, we watched a woman spread a wide circle batter of crepe on a large griddle and savored the 大餠 "da bing" (introduced above) with both hands as if eating a Bic Mac. Finally, we filled up on a small bowl of tiny wontons in a steaming soy-based broth. Only our stuffed bellies prevented us from trying the elaborate fried rice at the end of the line.

"INVISIBLE" VENDORS
A large portion of prepared foods sold in Shanghai are informal and most likely illegal, although this seems to be accepted with a partially blind eye. Narrow roads in older, village-styled houses, dark grey and attached in townhouse formation, meld into major city skyscrapers amidst the dusty rubble of full-blown construction. Most Shanghai citizens live in these village locations and some offer breakfast or snacks out of their basic dwellings. From uniformed students to businesspeople in suits and leather shoes, people flock to and from these unlicensed enterprises. The execution of food vending from the doorway of these houses was much the same as informal street vending in India or Vietnam; separate operations per vendor, unorganized and primitive, but logistically less stressful in terms of mobility. Surprisingly, the convenience of a backyard larder did not prevent vendors from cooking portably in front of their homes rather than inside. Tables and charcoal stoves were set up along the sidewalk to steam wooden barrels of fluffy white buns and fry 油條 "you tiao" unsweetened donuts for dunking in sweetened soymilk. Local police did not attempt to invade vending activity, though they didn't appear to partake either.



GIVE ME BACK MY SPATULA PLEASE
A final, scattered group of independently operating individuals form a third category of Chinese street vendors. While our university friend informed us that all street vending can be assumed to break the law in China, certain individuals appear to be easier targets for wrist-slapping. Periodically along the quieter streets of the city, not far from main commercial centers, I came across men with wooden ox-carts or on bicycles serving up grilled, skewered meats or candy-coated dates or crab apples. This category of vending seems to fall victim to whistle-blower officials (literally, men who have the authority to call out an illicit activity such as jaywalking or hawking - but no official power to arrest). In the event of crossing paths with an actual police officer, the vendors may have their spatulas or other utensils confiscated as punishment, being that fines are worthless to impose on these penniless individuals. A word to the wise from our experienced friend, don't buy from this third group of street vendors; the absence of quality food matches their sanitation conditions.

Bangkok, Thailand: The Mecca for Street Food (& Recipe) (THAILAND - part 1 of 1)

The evening before arriving in Thailand, we were challenged by a professor who had spent a year in Chiangmai in northern Thailand to capture a picture of a Thai child withOUT food in his or her mouth. Already my gastronomic expectations were set high.

Thailand is a place of two coexisting cultures: modernness paired with tradition. Bangkok houses some of the largest mall monstrosities I have ever encountered, surrounded by a moat of neatly organized street vendors selling everything from cheap clothing and accessories to every variety of snack food one might desire. Tuk tuks are as common a transportation means as the highly developed, impressive public transportation system that puts American metros to shame. Street food is no exception to the juxtapositions: rich and poor, locals and tourists, and even vendors bored with their own foods eat from the streets in Bangkok. I stood in line behind a student cradling a 35 baht ($1) noodle soup meal in one hand and a 100 baht Starbucks in the other.



Food is everywhere, or always within a mere five steps away; one can literally trip over food navigating this city. I fell comfortably into the national pastime of perpetual grazing while traveling in Bangkok. Vendors are stationed throughout the day and continuously offer the same foods, immune to scheduled breakfasts, lunches, or dinners. Repetition is not an issue however, as there are about a hundred options to choose from.

NOT SUPER INTUITIVE, BUT IT WORKS...
Despite being in the backpacker's central of Bangkok, vendors know very little English or other foreign languages, faltering with even the basics. This was hardly a deterrence, remedied by wooden placards painted with prices and single word menu descriptions such as "chicken, shrimp, tofu", hanging in front of an obvious pad thai (noodle) vendor. Four or five variety of noodles are mounded into a miniature mountain range along the top rim of a slightly concave, large disk cooking surface. Ordering involves a lot of gesturing and nodding. However faced with a breach of understanding, adopting sous chef and sprinkling in your own spice condiments while the vendor tosses the noodles together with egg and bean sprouts accomplishes the task fairly well.

Organization in the street vending industry is surprisingly advanced however. The arrangement of vendors is efficiently structured into neatly aligned rows parked side-by-side. In the evenings, entire streets will be blockaded and regulated by police for Bangkok's famous night markets to emerge. Vendors will usually stake out a specific spot (determined my rank, seniority, lottery, habit? who knows) to begin their evening and slowly travel half the length of the road over the course of the night. The entire affair is highly mobile. Midway through preparing my order of noodles, the vendor picked up his cart and began rolling away. I was momentarily stunned and then doubly so when I was nearly knocked over by the produce truck he was avoiding.



STREET PERFORMING & TRANSPARENCY
While I may have been impressed by the three-foot-stream method of preparing chai tea in India, Thai tea takes on a whole different meaning. One vendor entertained a crowd of customers with twirls and dancing as he juggled large mugs of the rich, adobe orange tea lightened with sweetened condensed milk and evaporated milk. Not to be outdone by the Indians, our man incorporated the waterfall method of mixing the tea with the sweetener and milk, flaunting his skill by preparing two orders of tea at once instead of one. This culture of food performance is common amongst vendors and while some embrace their artistic nature with greater exuberance, all are equally eager to please.

Cooking on-the-spot is another major distinction between Indian and Thai street foods. Carts are specifically designed according to the type of food offered and are usually equipped with a gas stove on one end and a flat prep work space filling the remaining area. Certain items are prepared in advance, steamed rice, noodles for stirfrying, and broths for soup, but the majority of cooking is done on site, including frying fishballs (a major obsession), steaming yams or meatballs, and grilling corn, mini bananas, skewered meats, and eggs (in-the-shell) over coals. By its nature, performance cooking demands transparency from the vendor and consequently sanitation is well enforced. Cooking utensils, ingredients, and methods are open for scrutiny without the shelter of kitchen walls to hide behind. What you see is what you get; no surprises, save the occasional chili that slips into a bite unnoticed. In additional, all stalls were supplied with their own tubs water (one fresh, one soapy) to rinse dishes or utensils in between uses.

Cleanliness extends beyond the immediate vicinity of each vending operation into the roads and entire public community. Despite the heavy reliance on disposable styrofoam bowls and plastic bags, commercial streets are surprisingly clean. Workers seem to spend a disproportionate amount of time sweeping the streets, a battle against trash well waged. The Thai also participate in glass bottle recycling, although disposable containers are more commonly used. Astonishingly it is virtually impossible to find a public garbage bin along the road; vendors cope by tying a plastic bag to the side of their carts instead.

ASIAN COMFORT FOOD, WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE
Grilled whole baby catfish, sticky rice packages, pork braised stews, crispy quail eggs by the dozen, hot and spicy soups, and crisp, cold fruits; Thai street food is appealing, foremost, for its simplicity and comforting response, and only secondarily for its outstanding, pungent flavors and creative preparation. While I found the taste and textures of Thai food intriguing, I was more captivated by the local culture around street food and the social benefits it yields. As I noted before, everyone is a consumer to Thai street food, motivated by four main characteristics. It has the advantage of incomparably low prices, often less than a third of neighboring restaurant fares. The best (venti-sized) Thai iced tea I stumbled, tucked along the edge of yet another grand mall complex, cost me less than $0.5 USD. Most meals are priced below a few dollars. The food is also conveniently available at frequent stops along a brief stroll. This interactive structure fosters a social community both amongst vendors and between patrons. Additionally, the outdoor setting of the venue encourages a level of physical commitment, minimal as it may be, and creates a festive, carnival-type atmosphere. Cheap, quick Asian comfort food at its best. (That is until we reach Vietnam)



A RECIPE
Savory baked egg custard

One of the clever little nibbles I feasted on was a savory egg custard baked in the shell. It was only after peeling and eating the egg (and finding no yolk) did I realize how this snack was made.

(for 1 egg - multiply recipe according to # of eggs)
- 1 raw egg
- 2 good shakes white pepper powder
- 1/8 tsp (good dash) soy sauce &/or fish sauce (optional)
- pinch salt
- pinch+ sugar
*preheat oven 350F
* carefully chip a penny-sized hole in the top end of the egg and pour out the contents (breaking the yolk if necessary); reserve shell intact
* scramble the egg with the seasonings to taste (my recommendations above are arbitrarily based on my knowledge of the flavors)
* pour egg mixture through a funnel back into the reserved egg shell
* set on a rack at an angle OR in set upright in a mini muffin tin (in which case it might be most profitable to make 12 or 24 eggs as an original party appetizer).
* bake (or roast over a grill) until custard is set. This might take between 10-30 min depending on the number of eggs. (The texture will be only slightly softer than the egg white of a hardboiled egg and should be uniformly firm.)

** Experiment with different spices or replacing them with coconut milk and sugar or sweetened condensed milk for a creative dessert.