Dim Sum and Splashdown For Europeans
My Dutch neighbor is returning to the Netherlands soon.
It's all the better reason get her, and my German roommate to try something new - Sunday morning dim sum. It's also a good occasion because my roommate's friend, also German, came for a visit. They don't really get this kind of thing in Europe, or at least they've never went out of their way to try it.
For those of you who have never left your trailer park, dim sum is these little à la carte Chinese dishes, usually steamed, which are really good. It is customary for families to eat dim sum on Sunday mornings as a brunch. Traditionally, these ladies cart a bunch of these dishes, in stackable steaming baskets, around the restaurant, all the while yelling out what they've got. If a customer likes what they hear, they order from the cart lady, and the cart lady puts a stamp based on the dish's size on a card that each table gets. The stamp count determines how much the customer pays.
Sadly, to slash costs, the cart lady has been replaced with an order card, and you just mark down what you want and hand over to the waiter, and they carry out your order. At least they didn't "outsource" the cart lady job to less-than-minimum-wage Mexican or Indian workers - that would be very awkward. Nevertheless, the job market just got significantly harder for middle-aged Chinese women who don't speak a word of English.
I managed to take them to Floata, this restaurant in Chinatown that is probably the largest Chinese restaurant in the country, but more importantly, is also one of the very few in Vancouver that still employs cart ladies. Those Europeans were taking their bloody time to return a rental car from a trip they took the day before, and we would've missed our reservation had I not called the restaurant to push it back. But sitting at the table with lots of food and a lively atmosphere quickly dispelled all that frustration I had built up.
I set them up with the dishes that I usually order, which would be new and exotic to them, but nothing so alien to them that they wouldn't eat it. That is, all but my favorite dish, which is the real reason why I wanted to bring them to dim sum - Assorted Cow Parts. That's what I called the dish that I grew up enjoying, that most other Westerners would find repulsive. Its contents are pretty much the way I've named it - cow tongue, spleen, tendon, stomach, (sometimes) lung, and (although not technically a cow part) chunks of radish - all stewed in this delicious sauce.
I kicked myself in the ass for getting carried away and proudly describing the dish to them before they tried it. It would've been much more fun if they ate it first, I told them what they ate, and they retch. The Dutch girl and my roommate's friend made a feeble attempt to get the smallest bit of cow stomach down.
My German roommate, however, was a sport and he pretty much sampled one of each cow part. His rationale was that Germany is famous for its sausages, which are pretty much the same cow parts that was set before him. The only difference is that the Germans mush up, spice down, and stuff those cow parts into intestines so that they can't tell what they're eating by looking at it or tasting it.
Now all that's left to make them gag is preserved (aka 1,000 year old) egg!
Later in the afternoon, we met up with a bunch of other fellow fun-pursuers and went to Splashdown Park, a waterslide park, to take advantage of some late bird discount admissions. I don't think they have this kind of thing in Europe. We had lots of fun, and if you've ever been to the waterslides, or able to envision a day at the waterslides with your friends, then it's pretty much like the kind of fun time that we had.
Well, except that your friends scream and curse in a foreign language when they think that they're about to be launched off the edge of the slide.
It's all the better reason get her, and my German roommate to try something new - Sunday morning dim sum. It's also a good occasion because my roommate's friend, also German, came for a visit. They don't really get this kind of thing in Europe, or at least they've never went out of their way to try it.
For those of you who have never left your trailer park, dim sum is these little à la carte Chinese dishes, usually steamed, which are really good. It is customary for families to eat dim sum on Sunday mornings as a brunch. Traditionally, these ladies cart a bunch of these dishes, in stackable steaming baskets, around the restaurant, all the while yelling out what they've got. If a customer likes what they hear, they order from the cart lady, and the cart lady puts a stamp based on the dish's size on a card that each table gets. The stamp count determines how much the customer pays.
Sadly, to slash costs, the cart lady has been replaced with an order card, and you just mark down what you want and hand over to the waiter, and they carry out your order. At least they didn't "outsource" the cart lady job to less-than-minimum-wage Mexican or Indian workers - that would be very awkward. Nevertheless, the job market just got significantly harder for middle-aged Chinese women who don't speak a word of English.
I managed to take them to Floata, this restaurant in Chinatown that is probably the largest Chinese restaurant in the country, but more importantly, is also one of the very few in Vancouver that still employs cart ladies. Those Europeans were taking their bloody time to return a rental car from a trip they took the day before, and we would've missed our reservation had I not called the restaurant to push it back. But sitting at the table with lots of food and a lively atmosphere quickly dispelled all that frustration I had built up.
I set them up with the dishes that I usually order, which would be new and exotic to them, but nothing so alien to them that they wouldn't eat it. That is, all but my favorite dish, which is the real reason why I wanted to bring them to dim sum - Assorted Cow Parts. That's what I called the dish that I grew up enjoying, that most other Westerners would find repulsive. Its contents are pretty much the way I've named it - cow tongue, spleen, tendon, stomach, (sometimes) lung, and (although not technically a cow part) chunks of radish - all stewed in this delicious sauce.
I kicked myself in the ass for getting carried away and proudly describing the dish to them before they tried it. It would've been much more fun if they ate it first, I told them what they ate, and they retch. The Dutch girl and my roommate's friend made a feeble attempt to get the smallest bit of cow stomach down.
My German roommate, however, was a sport and he pretty much sampled one of each cow part. His rationale was that Germany is famous for its sausages, which are pretty much the same cow parts that was set before him. The only difference is that the Germans mush up, spice down, and stuff those cow parts into intestines so that they can't tell what they're eating by looking at it or tasting it.
Now all that's left to make them gag is preserved (aka 1,000 year old) egg!
Later in the afternoon, we met up with a bunch of other fellow fun-pursuers and went to Splashdown Park, a waterslide park, to take advantage of some late bird discount admissions. I don't think they have this kind of thing in Europe. We had lots of fun, and if you've ever been to the waterslides, or able to envision a day at the waterslides with your friends, then it's pretty much like the kind of fun time that we had.
Well, except that your friends scream and curse in a foreign language when they think that they're about to be launched off the edge of the slide.
How do you think the cow feels about you eating her stomach!?!?
posted by Cosmic Ocean at 9:09 PM
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