Authentic Food

How much are you willing to pay for authentic food? A rough estimate by Gang and I is somewhere between $10 - $20 for a course in a restaurant, but $100 - $120 for several home-made ones. The bay area in California provides an extra bonus for Chinese residents with its rich collection of Asian restaurants. Even so, authentic Chinese food is still luxury as most Chinese restaurants change their tastes more or less to attract customers from other culture. These changes, no matter how slight they are, can make a complete mess for a gourmet and prevent me from going there again. I remember reading a post from an online forum, which used a metaphor for some awful counterfeits, as I quoted: "like making twice-cooked pork without black bean sauce."


That explains why China Village ranks top on my list. Located in Albany, it successfully keeps authentic tastes from China, and reminds me of the food I had in Beijing. But not for long, it took a long break after a fire in the kitchen since March this year. I've been checking its opening date, which was postponed from June to July, then September and now October. My loyalty is wearing away during this endless waiting, and we started to look for alternatives nearby. We went to restaurants which claimed to cook the same cuisine, and ordered exactly the same dishes ranging from $10 to $20, but they had every flavor but the authentic one. After a few failed attempts, we realized that it's better to rely upon ourselves rather than relying upon some random chefs. But there are more challenges to cook Chinese food here than back in Beijing. The biggest problem with cooking "twice-cooked pork" is the lack of pork belly slices. As mentioned in my previous blog An Unpleasant Visitor, it takes a lot of efforts to slice pork belly chunks, and even high techs (here I mean meat slicers) are not very helpful. Later on we bought some bacon from Costco in hope that it could be a good replacement for pork slices. But bacon is different too. First it's smoked, even it's only mildly smoked, the taste is different if you chew it over; and more importantly, it doesn't have skin. How can we have authentic food with a part missing! Anyway, we finally resorted to the primitive and most exhausting way of cooking this dish in desperation, that is to buy a pork belly chunk from Ranch 99 and slice it by hand.


 When I was alone in Princeton, I didn't mind grabbing free sandwiches in the lower lobby and living on those cold breads and veggies for weeks. That's not because I got used to sandwiches but I was simply too lazy to cook for myself. Whenever I had chances to dine out, I'd always go for Chinese food, just like people with drug addiction need injections once in a while to relieve the pain. I'm glad I'm finally back to the bay area. I have stronger motivations to cook for two, with one of us very good at appreciating my cooking. I sort of free ride on my efforts, and get better food as well.


If there is anything that I miss in China, the authentic Chinese cuisine must be at the top of the list. A documentary on Chinese cuisine became very popular a few months ago, and people dubbed it as "the best propaganda ever." Authentic food can trigger people's memory of good old days: their childhood and family time. Though current Chinese food market is overwhelmed by insecure food like gutter oil and sugar-made honey, people are still obsessed with "mother's taste" or "the flavor of hometown". Living abroad for almost four years, I've only visited Beijing once. I tried several restaurants with my friends during the trip, and quite enjoyed the food there in spite of knowing it contains unhealthy additives and stale raw materials. I had no choice, they tasted so good.

What money can't buy? Nostalgic authentic food. I'm writing this blog with saliva filling in my mouth. It's time for another cup of coffee.