Next week some of Shanghai’s best bars will celebrate Shanghai Cocktail Week. Details appear sketchy but promising. Participating bars will each offer a unique special menu of 50 RMB drinks, available throughout the week. The event is being held to mark World Cocktail Week, a celebration that has been going on for a few years yet has somehow escaped my attention until now. What can I say? Every week is cocktail week at my place. . .
Archive for the ‘Shanghai’ Category
So today marks a leap year meaning we get that rarest of experiences – February the 29th. This may not seem hugely exciting. However, back in the 1920s, when Harry Craddock was mixing cocktails at the Savoy, leap year celebrations were quite the thing. Harry Craddock even created the Leap Year Cocktail to mark the 1928 celebrations at the Savoy. The Leap Year Cocktail isn’t a bad drink either, being sort of a lightweight cousin to the Burnt Fuselage. (more…)
I considered writing the Charlie Chaplin up for Raiders of the Lost Cocktail. I decided not to in the end though. Partly I wanted to write up a drink that combined Lillet with apricot brandy, and partly I was not sure if the Charlie Chaplin qualifies as being ‘lost’. I have occasionally seen the Charlie Chaplin on bar menus. Still, the name of the drink is rather old worldly, as is the use of sloe gin, so I won’t argue with anyone who wants to label it a lost drink.
The one bar where I have drunk a Charlie Chaplin was a little Japanese place in Shanghai. This time the bar in question was not Constellation, but rather the little bar inside the Garcon Chinois restaurant on Hengshan Rd. That bar is much smaller than Constellation, and does not have nearly the same range of spirits, but the cocktails used to be very carefully and expertly made by a Japanese woman who knew exactly what she was doing. (more…)
Today’s Mixology Monday, hosted at Martini Lounge is all about shooters. Shooters are really not my thing. Designing a shooter seems as much thinking up an amusing name as creating a tasty drink. Maybe they have a place though. The Austrian barman at a little place I sometimes visit here in Shanghai has a habit of mixing his favorite customers a quick ‘shot’ as they leave. He usually mixes up rum, lime, and something sweet. It makes a friendly and pleasant end to the evening.
Generally though I just don’t like shooters so I had trouble thinking of anything for this Mixology Monday. But perhaps Pink Gin could be considered a shooter? I was very skeptical about Pink Gin the first time I tried it so I think I either made it on a shot glass or made a very small quantity in a rocks glass. Actually it isn’t so bad. It isn’t something I ever really drink, but there is something quite nice about room temperature gin with bitters. If you really and truly enjoy gin then you should also enjoy it at room temperature, right? So why not try a shot of Pink Gin?
Simply put a couple of dashes of bitters into the glass, tilt the glass to distribute it evenly, then add the gin. If you enjoy the taste then slowly savor it rather than tossing it back. If you don’t like the taste then toss it back and go make something else.
A few weeks back I found a shop here in Shanghai selling Marie Brizard liqueurs. There seems to be a company importing them from Hong Kong into Shantou. Unfortunately the Shanghai store has decided to stop stocking them in favor of Bols. It is hard to understand why they would do this given that Bols is generally crappy and Marie Brizard is generally good, but there you go.
Anyway, having realized Marie Brizard was quality stuff after trying their Apry while in Cambodia I grabbed a few more flavors as soon as I saw it. I picked up crème de cacao, orange curacao and anisette. I also grabbed a bottle of Get 31 peppermint liqueur. I was especially pleased with the anisette because I hadn’t seen this before in Shanghai.
All of the flavors were pretty good when I compared them to Bols. The only slightly strange one was the crème de cacao, which seems to have an odd herbal taste in addition to the chocolate. The Get 31 tasted OK but had a strange sediment in the bottle. I took it back a few days later and exchanged it. Exchanging it was a little funny. I was standing in the front of the shop showing the assistant that my bottle had a sediment while the other bottles did not. There were three of us standing in a line behind the display holding bottles of crème de menthe up to the light and peering into them. A dozen or so pedestrians on Huaihai Rd. stopped to watch the foreigner checking the crème de menthe bottles. Perhaps they thought the official crème de menthe inspector from France doing a random check.
Later that night I happened to take out the Anisette bottle to show a friend while we were having a drink in Le Garcon Chinois. The Japanese woman behind the bar seemed to have some kind of a sixth sense for anisette. As soon as the bottle came out of its bag she abandoned the drinks she was making at the other end of the bar to ask where I had found anisette in Shanghai. She said she needed it to make a drink called Shanghai. I’d never heard of this drink before, but after she mentioned it to me I did begin to notice that the odd bar in Shanghai has it on their menu, always made with Pernod since anisette is hard to find. Anyway, I eventually got around to making a Shanghai myself.
1 1/2 oz Jamacian rum
1/2 oz lemon juice
1/4 oz anisette
1/4 oz grenadine
Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
There seems something old fashioned about sweetish but extremely rummy drinks like this one. The anisette adds interest to what is really just a very simple rum punch, and takes it away from being just a sweet and sour type of drink. It is good if you want a very mild aniseed drink.
I made mine with Meyers, but if possible use something more interesting – Appleton Estate should be good.
This month’s Mixology Monday, kindly hosted at Jimmy’s Cocktail Hour, is all about whiskey. Note, simply whiskey, not necessarily whiskey cocktails. I should have lots to say about this month’s topic but somehow I don’t.
Of course there are many things I could cover. I could choose a favorite whiskey cocktail and write about that. I could write about my family’s ritual of drinking tea with whiskey in the morning on Christmas Day. I could write about a favorite whiskey, maybe Lagavulin or Laphroaig. (more…)
Last night I dropped into Trader Vic’s recently opened Shanghai restaurant for a Shanghai Expat hosted cocktail party. The service at Trader Vics is five star, the Polynesian decor takes you a world away from the grime and grind of Shanghai, and the food and drinks are not half bad. However, you can’t help thinking the cocktails could be better. The drinks are by no means bad, but it is depressing to patronize the joint that invented the Mai Tai only to find the great drink a mere shadow of what it could be. (more…)
December was an interesting month for me in that I had several run ins with locals here in Shanghai. I wrote about one of these already in my earlier post on queue jumpers. Run ins like these are a rare thing for me. I guess that on average they occur only a couple of times a year. For some reason though, I had three such encounters during December. This was remarkable not only for the frequency of said events, but also because it got me thinking about Chinese culture. You see, in every one of these recent encounters the Chinese responded by bringing a racist, xenophobic, or ‘international’ dimension to the incident. It seems difficult for Chinese to treat foreigners simply as people.
Regular readers will remember that the queue jumping woman I encountered in early December said that the fact that I “had a big nose” (i.e. was a westerner) gave me no right to tell her what to do. An everyday disagreement about queue jumping thus became a racial confrontation.
A week or so later a pimp grabbed me in Nanjing Road. Nanjing Road is a major shopping street, but the large numbers of tourists in the area mean there are also aggressive pimps who target single male foreigners. After he grabbed me I told him to get lost in English (“fuck off” to be accurate), he took offense and started to gather a crowd to support him. In his own words “Chinese law protects Chinese people! A foreigner cannot speak like that to a Chinese person in China! A foreigner in China has no rights because China belongs to Chinese people!” I called the police to see what would happen. Pimping is (surprise surprise) illegal in China, so it was difficult to understand his astonishment when “the law”, which after all exists “to protect Chinese people” took him down to the station while the foreigner was left free to continue on his way. Happily in this instance some of the crowd were quite supportive of me. I think some locals also get fed up with the numerous scam artists that make a nuisance of themselves on Nanjing Rd. It could have gone differently though had his two pimp friends, who were originally being quite threatening, not had the good sense to vanish after I made the phone call.
Then last Wednesday night I was crossing Nanjing Rd. at Xikang Rd. and ran into another incident. I had the green pedestrian light and a car was coming along Nanjing Rd. about to turn into Xikang Rd., and showing no signs of giving way to me. I decided to cross anyway. He was forced to choose between stopping and hitting me and decided to stop, but stuck his head out the window to call me a “sha bi” (stupid cunt). I ask him what his problem is (I do have the right to cross the road on the pedestrian signal after all) and the conversation ran a predictably fruitless course. I was careful not to swear at him though and stuck to explaining traffic law. He made to get out of the car, and since he had four friends in there with him I decided to back off. He got out of the car anyway, and punched me in the head from behind as I walked away, screaming “How dare you disrespect a Chinese person in China!” along with other racist abuse. He landed a couple of ineffective punches before I grabbed his hand and held it. I wasn’t at all hurt and stayed perfectly calm. As he hit me he was screaming at passers by to support him in beating this “western (white) person”. Nobody seemed very interested in “beating the western person”, but people were curious and a crowd gradually developed. I asked him if he was done, let go of his hand, called the police, and moved in front of his car to stop him from leaving.
The police quickly arrived and started asking questions. Despite the large crowd of people only one local was prepared to stand as a witness to the unprovoked assault on me. A passing foreigner also acted as a witness. We ended up down at the police station (just me and the five guys in the car), where proceedings were basically a waste of time. The police were relatively sympathetic but since they were not traffic police they did not want to get involved in the traffic incident side of things. Nor were they interested in charging him with assault. Instead they approached it as a matter best resolved by a mutual apology. The driver of the car lied and said I hit him first, as well as “swearing at him in English which he couldn’t understand”, thus provoking him to attack me. This was totally untrue but what can you do? I pointed out to the police that he was missing skin on his knuckles from hitting me while my hands were not the slightest bit red or bruised, but they weren’t interested in considering this as evidence. Maybe this was fair enough – I could have kicked him or something for all they knew. Eventually the police pressured him into apologizing (they took him into a side room, said something to him, and he came back and apologized). I wasn’t required to. Pre- and post- apology though he maintained the attitude of an arrogant and aggressive prick. Meanwhile the police were not all that helpful and carried on saying that as a foreigner I didn’t really “understand” the situation. I asked them to explain to me the part of the situation I didn’t understand. They either couldn’t or wouldn’t.
What was remarkable about all of this though? The remarkable feature was the discovery that in a confrontation with a foreigner, Chinese inevitably make the foreigner’s ‘foreignness’ somehow relevant, however irrelevant it may be in reality. One would think that a queue was a fairly simple concept. Chinese have no problems grasping what a queue is, how it works, and why it is desirable. However, the moment a foreigner tries to protect their place in a queue they are guilty of trying to bully Chinese people. Similarly, ordinary Chinese are ill disposed towards pimps who grab customers in busy shopping districts. However, the moment such a pimp gets called up for grabbing a foreign customer the pimp is likely to object on the grounds that the foreigner is insulting Chinese people. Finally, right of way on a pedestrian crossing seems like a simple enough affair until it is a foreigner trying to cross the road, in which case they may get beaten for disrespecting a Chinese driver. Even if the foreigner escapes without being attacked, threatened or insulted, they are likely to end up listening to a condescending explanation that the whole situation occurred because there is something about China that, as a foreigner, they simply don’t understand.
Of course there is nothing unique about these sorts of attitudes. A certain level of racism and xenophobia is probably part of human nature. China is unusual though in the prevalence of such attitudes. In most countries maybe just one in ten confrontations would inspire a xenophobic and racist reaction, while in China the ratio would be much higher, perhaps closer to nine out of ten.
A couple of nights ago I dropped into the recently opened Henry’s Brewpub in Shanghai. The beer there is US style. It is nothing like the English beer brewed at Galbraiths in Auckland, but it isn’t too bad. The prices are also reasonable, only 30 RMB a glass, compared to at least twice that for the Bavarian wheat beers at the Shanghai Paulaner. (more…)
A few weeks ago I had the chance to visit Yang Chen Lake to try the famous crabs. Yang Chen Lake is located near Kunshan, halfway between Shanghai and Suzhou. The crabs from this lake sell for fantastic prices in Hong Kong and Taiwan. The high prices create an incentive to pass off product from other lakes as Yang Chen crabs and in response the local crab farmers association introduced a system of tagging individual crabs. Before long people were faking the tags and everyone was back to where they started.
My ex-flatmate from Taiwan was on a business trip in Kunshan, so on Sunday morning I hopped on the train to Suzhou to pay him a visit and enjoy the crabs at source. Rather than joining the huge ticket queue inside the station I found the little kiosk selling platform tickets and bought one of those for 1 RMB. Once you have a platform ticket you just need to find your train, jump on, and hope there will be a free seat. Eventually the conductor will find you and sell you a real ticket. If you are unlucky you can end up without a seat but for short distances it doesn’t really matter. Queuing in the station for half an hour to make sure you have a seat on a half hour train ride makes no sense.
I arrived in Kunshan after half an hour or so and took a motorcycle taxi to my friend’s hotel. There were no ordinary taxis available. It is a little weird to be deposited off the back of an old motorcycle outside a hotel and then have liveried doormen open the door for you, but not in a bad way.
I had a quick minibar beer with my friend, A-Guo. The cheerful cleaning lady who pointed me to the room had enthusiastically gushed that on such a clear day I’d be able to enjoy some fine views from the 20th floor. While A-Guo used the bathroom I stood at the window and took a couple of moments to appreciate the grey apartment blocks, grey sky, and grey canals of Kunshan. I was strangely reminded of Chinese ink landscapes on paper scrolls. A semi-demolished sports ground directly below provided a splash of color, though the debris strewn grass suggested a future more in keeping with its grey surrounds. As I surveyed the scene I thought back to the cleaning lady and had the sense that I was missing something. Perhaps you really need to be Chinese to get the beauty of such a scene.
We headed downstairs and jumped in a taxi, a real one this time, to go and try the crabs at Yang Chen Lake. While the Yang Chen lake crabs (also known as hairy crabs) are a famous delicacy in China, personally I don’t rate them that highly. The flesh is sweeter than most crabs, but they are also smaller and more fiddly. The flavor doesn’t seem special enough to justify the hassle and I’d just as soon eat a larger sea crab. I also imagine that sea crabs live in cleaner water than the Yang Chen lake. Kunshan is a massive industrial area and while the lake is some distance from the factories you have to wonder how clean the water is. I’ve heard rumors that crab prices follow the movements of heavy metals futures. Actually I made that rumor up myself just now, but I think it’s a fine one and worth repeating.
Near the edge of the lake you reach a big strip of crab restaurants. They all have unimaginative names like ‘Crab King’, ‘Golden Crab’ etc. As we walked along the strip I thought of my own name for a crab restaurant – èŸ¹è°¢ä½ *.
The restaurants all back on to the lake, so you get to investigate the crab holding pens and choose your crabs before deciding where to eat. After wandering up and down the strip we selected a restaurant with healthy looking crabs. Not being experts on crab health our choice was completely arbitrary.
The idea is that each diner eats both a male and a female crab. I can’t taste any big difference between the two, but the male is bigger than the female (or possibly it is the other way around). You dip the crab in sweet vinegar flavored with ginger, and accompany the meal with warm Shaoxing wine. Shaoxing wine is a rice wine made a few hours away in the small city of Shaoxing. You can drink the wine straight, but people tend to infuse it with a little ginger and sour plum. We drank a ten year old bottle; it was decent but not exactly Lagavullin.
The lunch was good. I thought the simple and cheap chicken marinated in Shaoxing wine and sesame oil was tastier than the expensive and potentially radioactive crabs. The crabs were good though, and much cheaper out at the lake than they would have been in Shanghai.
By the time we finished lunch it was close to dusk so we just took a quick walk around the lake and headed back to Kunshan. We were going to take a bus back into town but a guy in a van picked us up at a discount to the standard taxi fare. Back in Kunshan we checked out a couple of little bars but found them extremely dead. A-Guo then decided we should go for KTV since his company was entertaining a group of local suppliers. KTV is not really my thing, especially KTV for business people, but once in a while it can be OK so off we went.
If you go to KTV with a group of friends you sit in a private room with a TV and sound system and sing songs. There generally is not a lot of drinking because everyone is having too much fun fighting over the mike to bother with finishing their drinks. If you are a foreigner people will expect you to sing the lamest songs from the English song list. You inevitably have a mike shoved in your face as The Carpenters’ Yesterday Once More starts up. Chinese people are socially and culturally clued up enough to realize that all foreigners love singing Yesterday Once More – “especially the part where he’s breaking her heart” and then there is that other good bit that goes “shing a ling a ling”.
KTV for business people is slightly different. You sit in the same private room but the group is normally male only, and each member of the group is supposed to have a hostess sit with them and chat. The hostesses make sure your party spends lots of money on alcohol by playing drinking games. If necessary the hostesses also help individual group members stay sober by drinking their share of the booze when they lose in the drinking games. The whole set up with the hostesses is thus a little weird. The hostesses will compete against the guy she is sitting with and challenge him to drinking games, but when her guy gets involved in a drinking game with another guy or another hostess, she will step in and help him out by drinking his share. So your hostess is highly dangerous but simultaneously your guardian angel. Most of the hostesses will also come home with you at the end of the night if you want them to, though this varies according to the individual. Obviously there is singing as well, but since the hostesses are keeping everyone busy drinking nobody has much time to fight over the mike.
A-Guo and myself arrived later than everyone else, at about 9pm or so. KTV usually starts at around 7.30pm and the real aficionados get there very early to pick the best looking hostesses. We sat down, a group of about eight hostesses were sent in, and A-Guo sentthe first group away. Sending the first group away seems to be a bit of a ritual. The customers get to look discriminating and the shop gets to look like it has a ton of hostesses on hand. Everyone gets to looks good, the hostesses. A second group came in and after A-guo picked one from that group I did the same.
A KTV joint usually aims to have more hostesses than there are customers on any given night. The hostesses pay a small stipend to come in to work each day. If they don’t get chosen then they not only don’t get paid but are out of pocket for the night. Provided they get regular business though the money is very good compared to what they would get elsewhere. Most of the girls are pretty but uneducated and would otherwise be working in a factory or a small shop earning maybe RMB1000-1500 per month. In KTV they can earn RMB200 a night simply to drink with customers, and maybe four times or more if they go home with them. It is lucrative and easy work for the attractive and personable. For the less naturally gifted the KTV can be a viciously competitive and unfair workplace. Obviously a lot of the girls end up hating each other, and after a few drinks you might get to listen to a convoluted tale about why Brilliant Jade from Anhui is a certifiable bitch.
The girl sitting with me, Yawen, was from some town I’d never heard of in Jiangsu. She had come to Kunshan to work in an electronics factory, left the factory to work in a small fashion boutique, and then left the boutique to work in a KTV and save money to open her own boutique. She was nice but had few topics of conversation besides money – natural enough when you are short of it, but awfully boring to listen to.
We played some drinking games, mainly çŒœæ‹³ (or ‘guess fists’), which involves two people simultaneously flashing their hands at each other and guessing the total number of fingers extended. The loser has to drink. I’m very bad at it because I never play, while Yawen was very good because she plays every night. Naturally I ended up drinking a fair bit. Luckily the booze was mixed quite weak.
In KTV you usually drink Chinese wine, or ç™½é…’(baijiu), which is a clear spirit. Baijiu is usually distilled from grain, typically sorghum, but can be made of almost anything. Baijiu is something like a very fragrant vodka, and not necessarily fragrant in a good way. The flavor can include some bizarre esters. In KTV people often pour the baijiu into jugs packed with ice cubes, stir to chill it and let the ice melt a bit, then decant it into small pouring jugs. I have no idea why this has become the practice in KTVs and nightclubs. You never see people drinking baijiu this way in restaurants. I think the custom is a vague take on the cocktail (sometimes they add lemon wedges, wasabi nuts, tea or other flavorings), and has taken off in KTVs, bars and nightclubs because Chinese see these venues as ‘westernized’ (to westerners of course they are very foreign), and hence appropriate locations for a mixed drink. In contrast, restaurants are seen as more traditional and Chinese venues. Thus in restaurants people drink baijiu straight, possibly warming the bottle in a bowl of water during the winter.
Later we played a very dangerous dice game with hazy rules in which the loser was going to have to drink a largish jug of baijiu. I was within one dice throw of being the fall guy but saved myself with a triple six on my last throw. I think a double six would have been enough to save me, but regardless everyone was very impressed. My hostess asked for my phone number after seeing my dice throwing skills. Seeing the number of sixes people were throwing though I had to wonder whether or not the dice were weighted. I’m sure they were, and I guess lots of sixes makes the evening exciting.
The group I was with was mixed Taiwanese and Mainland Chinese. Overall the Taiwanese were reasonably restrained with the hostesses, while the mainlanders were getting involved in some heavy duty groping and pawing. One of the Mainland guys came over to my side of the room and challenged me to drink. I joined him in a glass. As I put my glass down he grabbed my hand and sort of forced it onto my hostess’s tit. Needless to say she absolutely loved this. I’m not sure what he was thinking. Maybe he had seen lots of western porn movies and expected more enthusiasm from me? I apologized to the hostess while continuing to drink with the guy. He calmed down a little but then began asking for my number, saying we would go out together in Shanghai and he would pay for everything (“ä½•å…ˆç”Ÿ! æˆ‘åŸ‹å•. æˆ‘åŸ‹å•…”). I gave him the number hoping he would go away. He was plastered and drinking far too fast. I drank a glass or two more with him, then let my hostess keep him company for another glass or so. He just wouldn’t stop drinking though.
I decided to pop off to the toilet, partly because I needed to take a pee and partly in an attempt to lose this idiot. I didn’t bank on him jumping up and following me into the toilet. So I unexpectedly found myself in the toilet with a drunken moron. He was grabbing me by the shoulder still talking about how we would go drinking together in Shanghai and he would pay for everything, while checking and rechecking that my phone number was correct.
This was all getting very tiresome, but more disconcertingly I was wondering what the hell he was doing in the toilet with me. A room in an upscale KTV joint usually has its own toilet, accessed through a door inside the room. This means that you don’t need to go out into the corridor to get to a toilet, and also that everyone in your group knows who is in the toilet, with who, and for how long. Besides being annoying the situation was thus getting embarrassing. First I act less than enthusiastic about groping a strange woman’s tit, then seconds later I disappear into the toilet with another man. If I didn’t get him out of the toilet fast everyone was going to assume we were enjoying a booze fueled quickie. Now some people can probably adopt a relaxed attitude to all of this, maybe thinking “So we had knocked back a few drinks and were feeling pretty loose. Hell, who hasn’t had a homosexual experience?” I admire this attitude. Admiration is precisely where I draw the line though, and at the end of the day I leave this attitude to others.
I needed to get him out of the toilet and fast. I tried vainly to end the conversation. It didn’t matter that I called his mobile to demonstrate that the number I had given him was in fact correct, he simply refused to shut up and leave the toilet, and kept grabbing my arm and talking about going drinking. So what did he want? Was he in fact gay? There was only one way to find out. Groping for some clarity I reached into my pants.
Ahh! A heterosexual!
I heaved a sigh of relief and used the facilities in peace.
When I walked back out he was no longer sitting beside my seat and had moved back to the other side of the room. The unsophisticated approach to resolving awkward social situations is underrated.
The rest of the evening was uneventful enough. At around midnight the hostesses all disappeared, changed out of their uniforms, and returned in normal clothes, giving the signal that it was time to go. We paid up and left, some alone and some with their ‘girlfriend’. To keep the crab theme going we went to a restaurant for crab flavored rice porridge.
The crab porridge restaurant was Taiwanese style and it was interesting to see that most of the KTV girls, who came from all over China (Sichuan, Dongbei, Shanxi, etc.), knew how to make Taiwanese style tea (also known as Minnan style tea or Gongfu Tea). There was a tea set sitting on the table and they immediately got to work with it. The Minnan style of tea-drinking is very specific and forms the basis for the Japanese tea ceremony. The tea is very potent and served in tiny cups, making it tea’s answer to espresso. The etiquette for brewing the tea is fairly relaxed, unlike the complicated Japanese tea ceremony, but it still isn’t something most young Chinese women seem to know how to do. Outside of Taiwan, Fujian, and parts of Guangdong, where everyone makes tea this way, Minnan tea drinking is more a hobby for retirees. Obviously the KTV had lots of Taiwanese customers, which with Kunshan being full of Taiwanese was no surprise.
After the crab porridge I found a taxi and headed back to Shanghai, finally getting home around 4am or so after the driver got lost crossing Shanghai. For some reason the driver spoke Mandarin with me and Kunshan dialect with everyone he stopped to ask directions from in Shanghai. The problem was that nobody in Shanghai could understand his Kunshan dialect and I ended up ‘translating’ into Mandarin for him. It was odd. He spoke perfectly fine Mandarin, so the back and forth was all very unnecessary.
* ‘Crab’ in Mandarin is pronunced ‘xie’ in a rising tone, while ‘thank you’ is pronounced ‘xie’ in a falling tone. So ‘èŸ¹è°¢ä½ ‘ would mean either ‘the crab thanks you’, or maybe ‘thank you crab’, but would sound very similar to a simple ‘thank you’ (è°¢è°¢ä½ ). It is a little laborious to explain but kind of clever.