Mr. Zhang's mud oven

 The Zhang family's mud oven

My good friend Ron Rose recently had the opportunity of participating in a unique Taiwanese culinary tradition. To mark the winter rice harvest, some farmers continue the ancient tradition of constructing a mud oven in their recently harvested fields. The oven in the picture was created by Mr. Zhang, the soon to be father-in-law of said Rose. This oven is used once and once only to roast a single chicken and some accompanying vegetables. The oven itself is constructed with mud clumps in a manner similar to an igloo. A fire is then burned in the oven for several hours baking the mud to a high temperature. The coals are then removed from the oven, the chicken is inserted, and the oven is collapsed on top of the bird. It is the heat of the mud itself that cooks the chicken.

The traditional method of preparing the chicken involves encasing the entire bird in clay. This dish can still be found in specialty Chinese restaurants under the name of 'beggar's chicken'. At Dalia Jurgensen's Chinese food site Red Cook , I found a colourful story explaining its origins:

A starving beggar in China during the Qing dynasty is said to have stolen a chicken and was hotly pursued by its owner. In his haste he buried the chicken in mud near a riverbank to hide it. Later that night he returned and retrieved the chicken, its feathers covered in mud. He started a fire of twigs and branches to cook the chicken. But not having any utensils he placed the entire chicken directly into the fire. A tight clay crust formed as the fowl cooked, and when the crust was cracked open the feathers came right off the chicken exposing juicy tender meat and emitting an incredible aroma. The roasted chicken was so delicious he decided to start selling his creation to the villagers. Unbeknownst to him he had just invented one of the greatest culinary traditions of China.

Picture yourself living thousands of years ago in China, existing on little more than millet. Can you imagine the joy of pulling that blackened mass of clay out of the mud and ashes after hours of preparation and anticipation? Do you envision yourself cracking it open to release the most heavenly of aromas? Is your mouth watering as you taste the tenderest and most flavourful chicken imaginable with every drop of the bird's juices preserved inside? While the veracity of the above story of the beggar may be questionable, isn't it possible that this dish spawned or is at least representative of a more pervasive myth in the Chinese culture. That of the phoenix: a golden bird rising from the ashes.

Note the similarities:

There is some dispute over the geographical origin of beggar's chicken. The first time I came across a description of foul baked in clay was in an article in the FT by Fuschia Dunlop in a restaurant in the central Sichuan region that specialized in the peasant foods of the Western Xinjiang region. Eileen Yin-Fei Lo, in her book 'The Chinese Kitchen', cites this dish as being of Beijing origins. I also came across references on the net that cited it as a dish of the Hangzhou region. It seems likely that this method of cooking foul could go back to the stone age. Perhaps even predating the use of ceramic pots. Perhaps this cooking method led to the tradition of 'clay pot' cuisine in China, which utilizes unglazed ceramic. The pot is first soaked in water in order to steam the contents while cooking. The same effect obviously applies when using wet clay.

 Clay pot chicken found at: my dinner table 

Versions of this recipe include first wrapping the chicken in lotus leaves before wrapping it in the clay. Others substitute the clay for a kind of salty bread dough.

Above images from: Red Cook

 

Baked chicken encased in bread dough

The Zhang family has their own traditional method of wrapping the chicken. They first wrap the bird in newspaper before encasing it in mud. This year though, there were some alterations to the traditional recipe. It seems that Mrs. Zhang decided that the newspaper and mud method was unsanitary so insisted on a foil baking bag instead, she also (for some unknown reason) made the decision to pre-boil the chicken. Mr. Zhang was none too pleased with these changes but acquiesced in stoic silence. Perhaps he had to acknowledge that in the end, the preparation of food was his wife's domain.

Images: Construction; Inserting the bird; three generations of the Zhang clan

2009 Taiwan Tea Report with Tea Andy

Long time friend Andy Kincart has been collecting, selling, and drinking high quality Taiwan tea for many years. His passion for the stuff is so great that I will often receive text messages in the middle of the night from him simply just to tell me that he is drinking tea. As much as any of my friends love anything, I can't really say that I've ever gotten a text saying, "this is the best burger," or "sex rocks." I find this undying and consistent expression of his pleasure very inspiring. It reminds me that even when you've experienced something many times, you can still sit back and appreciate it again through the senses.

Here is a piece written by Tea Andy, describing this year's annual trek to the mountains to purchase winter tea. Andy sells various teas through his website blackdragonteas.com . Check it out. And enjoy.

 

2009 Winter

Tea shopping began the weekend that a friend of a friend in tea visited from the States for the first time. We promptly left the city and went directly to the home of my tea mentors in Lugu - aka - Deer Valley. Our hostess proceeded to brew three different teas in swift succession. In retrospect I deem this was because she perceived the guest I brought as a buyer interested in tasting the tea she had just finished roasting and had available. Otherwise it would have been a much more casual and spontaneous process of brewing whatever tea was brought to mind in the course of our conversation.

Of course, all three brews were very pleasant and each with its own distinct character - albeit that they were from farms within a five mile radius of each other as the crow flies, and all made in the fashion of Dong Ding Oolong. Their distinctions lie in the variations of flavor and consistency based on their microclimates, and the degree of both oxidation and roasting of the leaves that were harvested from each farm – not to mention the weather around their time of harvest. Some might add that the kind of day that tea maker was having at the time has something to do with it as well. I conclude that all of the above are rather obvious observations that could be called “givens”.

All this having been said, I was not initially struck by any of them as being a tea that I instantly had to have. This also has its own complex combination of influential factors – such as the state of my tastebuds given that I was up til 5 am the night before drinking scotch; or my perceived response of my new tea friend in tasting the teas that he has some serious concepts about. In the end, I think I was just craving some rich, dark, heavily roasted kick-ass winter oolong to revive my feeble form. The three brews I drank were a bit more subtle and delicate than what my needy state warranted. So I kept quiet regarding which one I would choose to procure.

As the conversation ensued in accompaniment of the tea being brewed and imbibed, a specialty tea was revealed to be of interest to the new guest. So the next thing I knew, we were drinking a variation of a tea called “Oriental Beauty”. The variation is called “Gui Fei Cha” – of which I continue to forget the English translation. The variation consists of the tea leaves being rolled tightly in the fashion of Taiwan Oolong in contrast to the traditional “open leaf rolling” that is derived from its mainland progenitor – which is used to make Oriental Beauty. As I understand it, Oriental Beauty is a relatively recent discovery/innovation made by “accident” on this island (although I am not convinced, and I’ll tell you why in a minute). I should research it again instead of winging the story I read/heard somewhere along the line, but it goes something like this...

Once upon a time, a farmer’s (almost assuredly – summer-) crop got infested with what I have observed to be a kind of aphid, although I haven’t scientifically confirmed this. This caused the leaves to shrivel and be stunted in their growth with visible “damage” and discoloration. The latter of which incidentally looks exactly like the effect “oxidation” which is an essential process in the making of Oolong. So in short, the aphid bugs were causing a kind of “pre-harvest oxidation” on the leaves, along with an apparent (or the sense-perception equivalent in the vernacular of taste) chemical adjustment in the leaf resulting from the plant’s immune response to the attack. This all ended up in a scraggly, stunted leaf that made the new growth of the plant look ugly, so the story goes… but the farmer was undeterred, as it was his seasonal crop and was obliged to make of it what he could. So he made it as he evidently saw fit, given the circumstances. And then came the moment of brewing these scraggly leaves… I imagine that farmer as being propelled into a moment of ecstatic revelation that rocked his tea world. Hence, the name “Oriental Beauty” was ordained to this leaf that possessed an inner beauty far beyond the fleeting impressions of external appearances.

It is true that tea leaves that have been bitten by this bug that naturally occurs during the warm wet months of summer produce a brew that is in a class of its own. I personally feel that the most striking quality of Oriental Beauty is its substantial character. I mean this tea has body and legs that will make a tea freak weak in the knees. The integrated qualities of flavor are such that it makes it hard to overbrew, i.e. it doesn’t become overly bitter from being too concentrated. It has a dark, distinctly Oolong character that is very reminiscent of traditional Chinese Oolong, yet much more. I always feel like I hit a pathetic wall when it comes to putting an olfactory-palatal experience into words, but trust me – this tea is worth whoring yourself for – if need be. Okay, I’ll say something about how it tastes. It has qualities of sweetness that are very close to honey – that is the first thing you think of as it coats the palate. And then there is something like rose and pine that first fills the nose and then the entire head really. But there is so much more to it than can be said. Something happens, at least sometimes, when this tea is imbibed. It affects the nervous and endocrine system in ways that will forever make scientists and connoisseurs alike sound like nerds trying to explain it. One more thing about its character though – this tea will outbrew even the most indulgent tea lush. A good Oriental Beauty simply cannot be depleted of flavor and essence no matter how many times you brew it – at least within reason – as I said, it’ll give more than you can take if indeed you begin with the first brew and take it from there.

Well I sure as heck didn’t plan on writing pages about Oriental Beauty, but these things happen. So before I move on, let me just mention why I don’t really believe that it is relatively recent discovery. I can sum it up in one word really: natural. This tea occurs naturally – prior to (and with luck, after) artificial means of pest control. So in other words, it probably has happened (from time to time at least) for as long as people have been drinking tea. But most historical accounts have certain ulterior motives employed by those who write it, so we’ll just acknowledge that for what it is… I will also mention though, that making this type of tea by allowing insect infestation does come at great cost to its makers. The yield is something like one quarter of a non-infested harvest, and infestation has a lasting effect on the productive health of the plant. Basically it comes down to yield, which puts the price of Oriental Beauty in a class of its own as well. Nevertheless, I intend to seek out this tea and share it when I can, especially now since I’ve ranted at such length about it.

Back to winter tea shopping, yet continuing on a similar tangent: My guest is all about aged and/or organic tea. So upon hearing about the type of tea that we proceeded to enjoy, he became much more noticeably appreciative of its quality. He is of the conviction that organic aged tea is distinctly different in its composition and consequently its effect on the person drinking it.  This is not just an observation in his relationship to tea. It is a central tenet of his livelihood.

He is of the school of “Cha Dao” – basically a spiritual path that is devoted to cultivating an understanding of the transformative and healing nature of tea. While I personally have not pursued such an overt acknowledgment of the secret powers of tea, I was interested to meet someone who is embodying a more defined shamanistic role in relation to leaf that I live for. Another way of describing this class of tea lover is that of the purist. From the stories my new friend related, there evidently is a very small population of folks around the globe who continue to carry on the traditions that have roots in Taoist and Buddhist lineages.

 Most of these folks seem to find Pu-er tea to be the leaf of choice. Without going into detail about the rich history and complex character of this leaf, I deem their attraction to lie in the fact that this is one of the most “pre-modern” teas to be had. Quality Pu-er is reputed to be harvested from wild tea trees in southwest China that predate any commercial methods of agriculture. In addition to this, a significant factor in assessing the quality of Pu-er is its age, i.e. how long it has been kept in proper storage after its production. My visitor explained how he experiences the effects of drinking aged tea to be quite different than fresh tea. In his perception, aged tea has a much more calming, soothing, and clarifying effect whereas fresh tea is often too stimulating and agitating for him. While I agree with his point regarding the varying effects of these teas, in my experience, it’s all about moderation. And with this point, I believe he also agrees. The other main aspect of his exclusive orientation toward aged teas is the absence of chemical additives. These folks that make tea into a religion are serious about their eucharist, to adopt the Christian nomenclature – although I personally much prefer the term “Blood of Buddha”. To this, for now, I will plead the 5^th. It may well be a valid point, but much more pertinent is that fact that my world is far from pure. I fully respect the promotion of chemical-free agriculture. But in my experience of visiting tea farms and knowing the farmers and drinking copious amounts of their tea for more than fifteen years, I find no signs of this issue being a significant hazard.

As you may have noticed (if indeed you are still reading) that I tend to ramble when telling tea stories, and that I’ve yet to get around to buying tea… Well, following our mid-afternoon tea session in the home my closest tea friends, we proceeded to visit the home of an award-winning tea maker up near Phoenix Mountain. A fellow American ex-pat’s in-laws introduced me to this farmer from whom they have been buying for 30 years. His tea has repeatedly ranked among the top ten, including first place, in local competitions that are comprised of up to 5,000 entries. But other than the complimentary award plaques on the walls of his dimly lit, old farmhouse style tea factory – there is no sign of such status. This stands in stark contrast to the pretentious houses, cars, and personalities of other award-winning tea farmers that I have met over the years. This guy is strictly roots, and everything I’ve perceived about him so far represents this.

I met him a year ago and bought winter tea then, followed by spring tea, and now winter again. But this visit was a wholly new level of connection. The previous visits involved crowded scenes of family and guests where I was the foreign anomaly that amused the locals with my interest in tea (been there done that a thousand times in varying contexts). This time I pulled up outside his house as he walked out of the adjacent building that housed his tea factory. He was the only one around, and was tasting some freshly roasted winter tea, carefully assessing its qualities to determine how to proceed in further roasting to bring out its full potential. Just a few standard white porcelain tasting cups, bowls and spoons on a very weatherrd drain tray and an electric kettle under exposed wooden rafters built on a worn concrete foundation. We sat on plastic stools in a temple of my liking.

 Fuck the falderal of fancy wares and pretty clothes and sophisticated art. Fuck the poser mannerisms and thinly veiled pretense comprised of petty book-learned wisdom sans weathered faces and leathered hands and world-wearied vibes. Fuck all the concepts about what some oh-so-subtly- sensitive bitches in robes experience in their fabricated fairy dollhouses as they sip tea and unconsciously strive to get over on some sorry ass maladjusted spiritual seekers that show up with cash to trade for something meaningful. Pardon my sentiments getting reduced into ghetto expression, but after all this word, I guess I just want to get to the point.

This is the heart and soul of tea culture. This humble farmer who has worked his ass off for decades to become what he is. He fuckin cleared mountainsides and planted tea trees and dealt with typhoons and fungi and everything else that gets in the way(and hence is an integral part) of making something beautiful. He created the substance that gives existence to the entire world of tea. In short, this is where all my respect and reverence is given – to the makers of tea. I personally have no need for any city slicker entrepreneurs or temple dwelling posers – although I readily acknowledge their place in the overall scheme of things. But I just want hang with the farmers.

The Great Debate on Yankee Brains and Spinal Cords

Whoops, I guess we haven't mentioned anything to do with Taiwan in about 30 posts. How about this from an article in the October 28th edition of the Taipei Times:

Source: Taipei Times

Under the terms of the new accord, US bone-in beef, ground beef, intestines, brains, spinal cords and processed beef from cattle younger than 30 months that have not been contaminated with “specific risk materials” will be allowed to enter Taiwan starting on Nov. 10.

At present, Taiwan allows imports of US boneless beef from cattle younger than 30 months that do not contain “specific risk materials.”

[Taiwan (AIT) Director William Stanton] said yesterday that 1,034 people out of 23 million Taiwanese lost their lives in scooter accidents last year.

“So when you look at the risk, statistically, [in contrast to] no cases of mad cow disease [reported in the US], well, one might conclude that one should stop driving motor scooters because of the risk [of the accidents],” he said.'

Of course I'm excited to be able to once again tuck into a nice steaming bowl of Yankee spinal cord (recipe to follow). But in truth, I take no stand on the matter of whether to allow these products into Taiwan or not. I tend not to consider my risk of contracting Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease when I eat a hamburger. Clearly, the vast majority of those protesting the import of these products have some economic stake in keeping them out, and as such, should be taken with a grain of salt. I also have no doubt that Taiwanese beef, in one way or another, poses equal or greater risks to my health than its American counterpart. What I find interesting in the article though, is the rhetorical idiocy of the Director of the American Institute in Taiwan (AIT), William Stanton. Check out his air-tight logic that people die on scooters, and Taiwan doesn't ban them, so what business do they have banning American brains and spinal cords.

Ya right, cow brains and scooters ... pretty much the same thing. Guess we'd better let them in. Of course he could have extended his arguments to cars and roads in general, which are also the cause of multiple deaths in the country. How about fatty foods, surely they raise the mortality rate as well. If we allow those, we'd better send in the brains. As far as that goes, since the government of Taiwan allows scooters to wreak carnage on the population, I guess there's really no argument for banning any product based on safety concerns. Let's bring back lead paint, asbestos, and all those toys from the seventies with the temptingly swallowable little pieces.

Keep in mind that AIT is the de facto U.S. embassy in Taiwan. And this nonsensical logic comes from the de facto American Ambassador. I'm curious as to what exactly are the qualifications for this position.  Stanton was the deputy chief of mission at the US embassy in South Korea, and before that worked for the U.S. State Department in Beijing. He has only held the position of Director of AIT since March 2009. Check out this post about Stanton from The View from Taiwan and the associated article from the Taipei Times. Apparently, not only is he less than Platoesque in his logic, he has also been accused of being 'excessively pro-China' in his views. According to the unnamed sources from The Taipei Times, Stanton, during his time in Beijing, exhibited a pattern of impeding or blocking negative reports on China from being sent back to Washington.

So the questions arise, 'Who is William Stanton and why is he here?'

The Erudite Donkey vs. The Economist

The Erudite Donkey once again rears its ugly head. This time he goes toe-to-toe in two separate matches: first against a representative of a particularly distasteful variety of Chinese nationalism, and then directly with the Economist magazine. Don't desert me now, dear reader, as this is an epic and rollicking tale, replete with shocking twists and turns that culminate in a dramatic conclusion.



Perhaps you readers of the Donkey have heard that the former president of Taiwan was given a life sentence for corruption and the misappropriation of state funds. Despite the seriousness of his crime the sentence was inappropriately severe and the trial was marked by irregularities. It reflects the growing influence of China on the KMT government in Taiwan. Chen fought for independence and now he is being punished for it. It is retribution, plain and simple. In an Economist article on the subject I responded to a Chinese poster who wrote an off-topic diatribe on how Westerners love to bash China. Any articles critical of China in the Western press are flooded with these baseless accusations from blindly patriotic Chinese nationalists. It is a troubling product of the Communist Party's program of propaganda. They draw attention away from their own short-comings by encouraging the demonizing of others.

Here is a link to the original article.

Here is the comment which I felt the need to respond to:

justlistenall wrote:

September 17, 2009 12:35

justlistenall wrote: September 16, 2009 18:14
On account of this article, many posters have offered good opinions about Mr. Chen Bian’s verdict, Pro and con.
But, do you know why even for a relatively local article on the conviction of Mr. Chen in Taiwan, there are still a few posters with postings after postings to bash Chinese value and system and China’s leaders (It's laughable that some undoubtedly with double poster pen names to play up its postings by the tale telling duet endorsing of each other)?
Here is why in my view:
1. Subconsciously, these posters are resigned to the fact that Taiwan is a part of China and that Taiwanese and Mainlanders are all Chinese. That’s why whenever the word Taiwan is mentioned, it immediately triggers their nerves on matters concerning China.
2. They can’t stand the thought or the fact rather, although they can’t do anything about it that China is awakening and prospering.
China today is Japan’s largest importer, replacing the U.S., that is helpful on Japan’s economy recovery, and China is India’s largest exporter. China is world’s first nation to develop and dispense immunization formula for H1N1; about two weeks ahead of the U.S. which is troubled by more than 400 unfortunate deaths.
China runs worlds fastest regularly scheduled commercial trains (Beijing-Tinjing) at 340 Km/H a clip; and China spends about $30 m a day constructing Beijing-Shanghai high speed railway soon to be finished ….
3. China of course has problems to work at too, and tons of them. These postings just can’t pass up any chance to jump in to ridicule these problems with brutal exaggeration and graphic distortion, wishing in their sick minds that China would remain and get stuck in the problems and the more the merrier for them.
All these words of “human rights”, “totalitarianism”, “ethnic strife” etc. out of their pseudo fancy bashing postings are but abusive cover for their dark side or inside.
Such are the general state of postings of China bashing in my observation on the forum of this article. I feel sorry for these bashing posters.
Then again, they are serving unwittingly as some negative material to remind people to work harder for the good of their country, China, the U.S., India,… indeed whichever their country happens to be.


and my comment in response:

> > China bashing? What a joke. The irony of you throngs of Chinese posters that
> > jump all over even the smallest criticism of your country, is that you're
> > demonstrating how you've yet to mature as a truly modern country. You think
> > because you have fast trains it somehow excuses the fact that China doesn't
> > have free speech. Thank God there are those in the West who take time to
> > point out the flaws in China because in your country, doing the same can land
> > you in jail. Why don't you grow up and show how much you really love China by
> > starting to criticize it yourselves. That is the only way it will ever
> > improve.

The above comment of mine was deleted without any indication or explanation. The comment I was responding to was allowed to stand along with the following one which mocks my language in garbled English:


religionofreason wrote:

September 17, 2009 15:50

Thank God there are those in the China who take time to point out the flaws in West prejudices and politic zealots because in your country, doing the same can land you in minor sideline. Why don't you grow up and show how much you really love democracy by starting to criticize it yourselves. That is the only way it will ever improve and gaining the convincing credit.


I repeat that my comment was deleted but the preceding and following ones were allowed to stand.
Here is my first letter of complaint addressed to the Economist:



Sir,

You removed a post of mine under the name of fumanchuck in the comments section of your article 'Go Directly to Jail' from September 12th. The comment was posted on September 17th. I would like an explanation as to why this was done. Unfortunately I did not save a copy of this comment as I in no way saw the possibility of it being removed. The comment was neither abusive nor off topic. I would like a copy of this comment sent back to me with an acceptable explanation. Perhaps you should review who is editing these comments and reevaluate whether they are qualified for the job. I am doubly upset by this as the comment was arguing for free speech. I await your reply.

Charles Sands (Taichung, Taiwan)



Here is the first response:

Dear Sir,
 
The attached comment, posted under the pen name fumanchuck, has been deleted  
from Economist.com. The comment was removed because it breaks our comments  
policy:
http://www.economist.com/about/terms_and_conditions.cfm#8
 
We ask that future comments be made in the spirit of good-natured debate.  
Repeated violation of our comments policy will result in your being blocked  
from posting comments on Economist.com.
 
Yours sincerely,
 
Comments Moderator
Economist.com
 
Your comment:
----------
China bashing? What a joke. The irony of you throngs of Chinese posters that
jump all over even the smallest criticism of your country, is that you're
demonstrating how you've yet to mature as a truly modern country. You think
because you have fast trains it somehow excuses the fact that China doesn't
have free speech. Thank God there are those in the West who take time to
point out the flaws in China because in your country, doing the same can land
you in jail. Why don't you grow up and show how much you really love China by
starting to criticize it yourselves. That is the only way it will ever
improve.
 
 
----------


 

My second letter of response: 

Sir,

You indicated that I violated your policy but not as to
how. I read through your policy before I sent the first letter of
complaint and I've read it again now. Would you please be so kind as to
enlighten me on the specific portions of my message that violated any
one or more specifically stated points in your policy. I would also
like to be informed if this letter of reply is being made by the same
person who deemed it fit to silence my voice. I will not be satisfied
until you fulfill these requests. 

Sincerely,
Charles Sands

The response from the Economist:

Dear Sir,
 
The Economist hosts its forums so that its readers are able to discuss, 
debate and analyse the article to hand. Your comment was "off-topic" and as such was deleted.
 
Best,
 
Comments Moderator

My third letter of complaint:



Dear Comments Moderator,

It is interesting that you first explained the removal of my comment stating that it was not "in the spirit of good-natured debate", but now you state that the comment is "off topic". Perhaps you reviewed your own comments policy and found that there is no mention of any requirement to be "good-natured". It is also curious to me that you chose to remove my comment for being "off topic", yet you deigned to allow the post that I was responding to and the one's following that refer to my "off topic" message, including the one which mocks my language in nearly incomprehensible, garbled English. Furthermore, perhaps you did not understand that I was providing a critique of how the first message, and others like it, were in fact "off topic" in their accusations of "China bashing".

I have provided them for you here:

justlistenall wrote:

September 17, 2009 12:35

justlistenall wrote: September 16, 2009 18:14
On account of this article, many posters have offered good opinions about Mr. Chen Bian’s verdict, Pro and con.
But, do you know why even for a relatively local article on the conviction of Mr. Chen in Taiwan, there are still a few posters with postings after postings to bash Chinese value and system and China’s leaders (It's laughable that some undoubtedly with double poster pen names to play up its postings by the tale telling duet endorsing of each other)?
Here is why in my view:
1. Subconsciously, these posters are resigned to the fact that Taiwan is a part of China and that Taiwanese and Mainlanders are all Chinese. That’s why whenever the word Taiwan is mentioned, it immediately triggers their nerves on matters concerning China.
2. They can’t stand the thought or the fact rather, although they can’t do anything about it that China is awakening and prospering.
China today is Japan’s largest importer, replacing the U.S., that is helpful on Japan’s economy recovery, and China is India’s largest exporter. China is world’s first nation to develop and dispense immunization formula for H1N1; about two weeks ahead of the U.S. which is troubled by more than 400 unfortunate deaths.
China runs worlds fastest regularly scheduled commercial trains (Beijing-Tinjing) at 340 Km/H a clip; and China spends about $30 m a day constructing Beijing-Shanghai high speed railway soon to be finished ….
3. China of course has problems to work at too, and tons of them. These postings just can’t pass up any chance to jump in to ridicule these problems with brutal exaggeration and graphic distortion, wishing in their sick minds that China would remain and get stuck in the problems and the more the merrier for them.
All these words of “human rights”, “totalitarianism”, “ethnic strife” etc. out of their pseudo fancy bashing postings are but abusive cover for their dark side or inside.
Such are the general state of postings of China bashing in my observation on the forum of this article. I feel sorry for these bashing posters.
Then again, they are serving unwittingly as some negative material to remind people to work harder for the good of their country, China, the U.S., India,… indeed whichever their country happens to be.


and...

religionofreason wrote:

September 17, 2009 15:50

Thank God there are those in the China who take time to point out the flaws in West prejudices and politic zealots because in your country, doing the same can land you in minor sideline. Why don't you grow up and show how much you really love democracy by starting to criticize it yourselves. That is the only way it will ever improve and gaining the convincing credit.

Am I to take these as examples of the kind of good-natured, on-topic messages that the Economist encourages, or has there been some kind of an oversight on your part? You can review my removed comment again at the bottom of this message. Please respond.

Sincerely,
Charles Sands



No response for three days. My fourth letter of complaint:


To: The Editor and the Comments Moderator

Dear Mr. or Ms. Moderator,
(I apologize for not knowing the proper form of address as you've tellingly chosen to remain anonymous)

It appears that you have not deigned my last email worthy of response, or perhaps you are at a loss for words. This is unsurprising to me, as it is of course much easier to delete the words of others, than to actually account for your own actions in writing. Besides, not even the greatest barrister in England could justify the disappearance of my comment and the allowance of the preceding and following ones which I provided for your review. I could have provided you with numerous other examples of comments that are equally "off topic", pertaining to the article in question and to others, but that would have been unnecessary. The unjustness and inconsistency of your actions is plain to see.

I am more concerned though, as to why this error occurred. It is a serious matter to silence the voices of others. I wonder if you realize exactly how serious it is. It pertains to the concept of free speech, which you may or may not have noticed was what I was arguing for in my comment. You are an employee of the Economist. This publication has stood as a symbol of the democratic values of openness, accountability and rational thought for more than 150 years. I respectfully submit that your actions pertaining to the deletion of my comment are a disgrace to the institution you represent. I can only hope that this was an isolated occurrence and that your actions are being monitored.

If my case is not an isolated occurrence--if you regularly silence the voices of others, based not on any consistent application of your company's comments policy, but rather on some other criteria known only to yourself--I must infer that you are not suited to the position you now hold. If this is the case, I will make the "good-natured" suggestion that you may find more rewarding work as a censor for an authoritarian government such as that in China. In such a position you will not need to hide behind euphemistic titles such as 'moderator', you can do your censor's work in complete invisibility; blocking web pages, deleting articles, and tearing pages out of publications such as those of your current employer.  In such a position you will also not be bothered by the nuisance of accountability.

Here is a quote that you should keep in mind the next time you find your finger quivering over the delete button. I suggest you print it up and post it in your cubicle:

We can never be sure that the opinion we are endeavoring to stifle is a false opinion; and if we were sure, stifling it would be an evil still.  ~John Stuart Mill, On Liberty, 1859

And this, which echos the point of my original comment:


Censorship reflects society's lack of confidence in itself.  It is a hallmark of an authoritarian regime.  ~Potter Stewart

Here is my comment, once more provided for your review:

> > China bashing? What a joke. The irony of you throngs of Chinese posters that
> > jump all over even the smallest criticism of your country, is that you're
> > demonstrating how you've yet to mature as a truly modern country. You think
> > because you have fast trains it somehow excuses the fact that China doesn't
> > have free speech. Thank God there are those in the West who take time to
> > point out the flaws in China because in your country, doing the same can land
> > you in jail. Why don't you grow up and show how much you really love China by
> > starting to criticize it yourselves. That is the only way it will ever
> > improve.

Sincerely,
Charles Sands


The final response from the moderator:

Dear Mr Sands,
 
Having re-reviewed the comment in question, I agree with your complaint
and the comment has been reinstated on our website.
 
Kind regards,
 
Comments Moderator

Final score:   Donkey 1  :  Moderator 0

Definitely Not the Salad Days

I am aging. Maybe even rapidly. And as time pummels me down with fists like toasters, I find myself desiring little more on a sunny afternoon than to sit on a restaurant patio with a sandwich...and a salad. I can remember going to restaurants as a child with my parents and their friends. They would lean back in their chairs, one leg crossed over the other, and gaze at the world peacefully whilst nibbling on fresh green salads. They would tranquilly mix the oil and vinegar, crack the pepper, and talk about grown-up things. Watching them, I felt almost tiny in the presence of such adulthood, yet with my lack of experience at age five, I still knew I was missing out on something. And now, in the wane of my youth, I find myself seeking out a similar afternoon as my parents so enjoyed in their 30s. A light lunch. A sandwich on whole-grain, a fresh salad, and a hot cup of black coffee.

But it is no easy task finding a decent salad in Taiwan. Neither the local or foreign restaurants in Taiwan could actually boast that they have a killer salad on their menus. The Taiwanese believe a salad of ice-berg lettuce, sprinkled with corn niblets and drowned in their favorite Thousand Island dressing will suffice. For the western-style restaurants, on the other hand, the problem is much more disturbing and inexplicable. It would appear that when a foreigner opens a restaurant in Taiwan, they simply put a short list of salads on their menu for visual effect, the very way a furniture store might add a few fake plants to spruce up a kitchen showroom. These are not actual items on the menu, but rather they are filler. They serve no other purpose than to simply get the menu as close to the bottom of the page as possible. My last two weekends in Taichung have given me harsh proof of my theory.

On one particular afternoon, I visited a Taichung favorite for having decent Italian food and pizza. It is true, Amici is a great restaurant. It is reliable, reasonably priced, the atmosphere is great; just don't order the Japanese Salad. Was I foolish to do so? Yes. My partner in blog, Chuck, suggested that next time I should go order pasta at a Japanese restaurant, while he hucked down his 4 cheese pizza. I admit to making some poor choices once in a while, but come on--if it's not meant to be ordered, then what is it doing on the menu?? In fact, I was so distraught when I saw this shabby little bed of wilted lettuce staring at me, that I have since decided to order all the obscure items on every menu I see from now on! I don't mind being a martyr in my search of a good salad. Not only did the Japanese Salad consist of only ice-berg lettuce and a measly few carrot strips, it was douched in a wet and runny dressing that made scooping up a full bite almost impossible. I eventually had to run my fork into my thumb just to squeeze up a good sized bite.

On another afternoon, I visited La Terrasse; an expat restaurant that has been doing business for over 10 years in Taichung. They have a great patio on a semi-quietish side street, and their menu is fairly simple, utilizing a 16pt font size to attract the take-out crowd and to...beef up the menu. For there, at the bottom of the page, are some salads. I went for the Caesar. It was priced at 150nt, so I figured it should be half-decent. Again, I was disappointed. Instead of crappy ice-berg, it was indeed Romaine lettuce that lay wilted and dejected before my eyes. The croutons were these freeze-dried little things that had the powdery texture of a Flintstones Vitamin, and a flavor similar to the dust one might find at the bottom of a Cap'n Crunch box. The dressing itself was not too bad, but it was definitely not made from scratch. True, they may have doctored it up a little with some garlic, but it was obvious that a base of mayonnaise or some other cheap Caesar Dressing had been used. And let's face it: a good Caesar Dressing made from scratch is a work of art. All in all, it was a depressing experience.

Now, on a positive note, there are a couple western-style restaurants in Taiwan where getting a salad is a refreshing experience. Take the Japanese Salad with Ponzu Dressing at Finga's for instance: It is a veritable vegetable patch served in a large pasta bowl. Crisp lettuce, baby corn, green and red pepper, julienned carrots are just a few of the veggies that comprise this light, yet filling masterpiece. And yes, the Ponzu Dressing is as it should be: a hint of each ingredient that forms this simple dressing is all that is needed. Each tone of sesame oil, rice vinegar, garlic, shallot, ginger, and soy equally compliment each other, and it is the harmony and careful alchemy of this dressing that makes it so savoury, yet light and refreshing. And it is served on the side, the way it should be.

Another great salad can be had, ironically, in perhaps Taipei's most notorious "meat-markets". A place generally known for its late night promiscuity, prostitutes, and drunken whiteys, Carnegies has a great afternoon patio scene...and a Greek Salad to rival any. True, it is not an authentic or traditional style Greek Salad. In fact, the only thing Greek about it are the huge cubes of tangy feta cheese and its use of both green and black olives. The rest of the dish is mainly comprised of cucumbers and tomatoes. And the dressing, which again comes on the side, is a simple oil and vinegar set--balsamic vinegar, to be exact. Also on the side of this massively filling salad are a few long slices of lightly toasted baguette--a beautiful touch. A generous touch. No rinky-dinking around here. This monster will set you back around 300nt, but it is well worth it. And if you succeed in finishing it, you may find yourself tipping the huge bowl down your throat, trying to slather up the remaining juices.

There are some other places worth noting, such as Sababa, famous for it's falafels. And The Diner, located directly behind Carnegies, offers a decent Caesar--mostly for it's generous bacon component, not so much for it's dressing. Other than that, there are simply no salads to be had on this island. I would even go so far to say that the 7-11 Potato Salad, if doctored up with some fresh cracked pepper and some balsamic, rates far higher than most salads offered in restaurants in Taiwan.

I want to make something clear: In no part of this critique have I mentioned anything about health, or the power of vegetables, or the food groups, or any such nonsense. I am simply stating my disappointment towards false advertising and laziness on the part of restaurateurs, who have the audacity to add items on their menus WHICH SHOULDN'T BE ORDERED. It would be like me putting something like this on my teaching resume:

"NOT VERY GOOD WITH KIDS. PRONE TO UNEXPECTED CHANGES IN TEMPERAMENT. DOESN'T LIKE TO GET UP EARLY--but I am an OK teacher..."

Do you see where I am going with this? A salad is a respectable ally to most entrees. If eaten for health reasons, I would have to call "retard" on that. There is simply no nutritional value in lettuce, and the meager amounts of other vegetables one might expect in any given salad serve only as roughage. Sure, it will provide your body with some additional vitamins, but not much. It is a palette cleanser and warm-up for the main-course. It is also a testament to the restaurant's thoughtfulness in presentation.

A salad, I say again, is a respectable ally to most entrees. It is part of the dish. Not french fries. A french fry is a toy for children. Seeing a grown man eating french fries is like watching a respected professor of university play with dinky-cars. It is disturbing, to say the least. But more disturbing is the fact that out of the plethora of foreign-run restaurants in Taiwan, there are less than a handful that can be trusted to toss my salad.

The Erudite Donkey: The State of Taiwan-China Relations

As all of our minions of loyal readers know, The Hungry Donkey is basically a place for a couple of jackasses to talk about stuffing their faces. But once in a while, after a good feed, our donkey minds drift away from the topic of food and we ponder the larger state of the universe. In this, the first installment of "The Erudite Donkey", the subject of Taiwan’s relationship to Mainland China is discussed and contrasted with the relationship between Britain and its former North American colonies. The differences between these two historical relationships sheds much light on the current state of Taiwan-China relations.



For those of us foreigners who have grown deep roots in Taiwan, there is little question on the issue of China’s claim to this island. There is essentially unanimous agreement that Taiwan is a sovereign country that should unquestionably be recognized as such by China and the world. For more than a century, it has been completely removed from Mainland rule, first as a colony of Japan, and then as an independently governed entity. It has grown into a relatively well-functioning democracy with a fully independent government. It maintains its own military, postal service, educational system, health care system, and any and all of the other social, economic, and cultural departments of government that could be argued to be definitive of an independent nation. China’s claim to Taiwan could be likened to Britain suddenly laying claim to Canada, Australia, or the United States. To most, such a claim would enter into the absurd.

The Taiwanese that I know personally will echo these sentiments; but with the added underlying emotion that comes with having one’s own political, economic, and cultural freedom threatened. They are the one’s who must endure the humiliations of being denied official embassies, excluded from all international organizations, and forced to compete in international sporting events under the moniker of “Chinese Taipei”. How then is it possible that a decidedly pro-China political party like the Guomindang (KMT) gets elected? How is it possible that a Taiwanese diplomat, in an anonymous internet posting, calls for the repression of the ‘Taibazi’ (Taiwanese hicks) to facilitate smoother relations with China.

There is a hidden but powerful pro-China faction in Taiwan. It is almost never openly articulated. It must be read between the lines, primarily in the policies and statements of the KMT. The candor of the diplomat mentioned above, proved a rare exception but he has tellingly since been removed from his post. Even though one can feel the government moving towards a closer relationship with the mainland, it is still unacceptable to openly state a belief in reunification. But more to the point, why does this faction exist?

It is easy to write it off as simple self-preservation—as choosing the concrete practicalities of economic and political stability over the more abstract principals of sovereignty and self-determination. But this pat explanation fails to shed light on the complexity of the situation. It is very difficult for North Americans of European decent to understand what it means to be Chinese. We come from a society of mixed descent, where the majority of people have, to a large extent, severed ties with the histories and cultures of our various ethnic origins. One of my grandfathers came to Canada from England and the other from Ukraine, but for me this is largely an historical curiosity. My grandfathers left their cultural histories behind when they came to Canada. Their children where raised as Canadians, and in my family, our ethnic origin was never discussed as a topic of great importance. I identify myself, almost solely as an expatriate Canadian.

The rapid divorce between Europe and its North American colonies was able to happen for a number of reasons. These include the great distance between the continents, the large mix of cultures represented, the primarily poor and agrarian origin of the settlers, and the great size and bounty of the new world. As well, the close proximity and inter-familiarity of European cultures led to a pan-European sense of values and identity. This facilitated a relatively rapid integration amongst its former members.

If one considers Taiwan, almost none of these conditions exist for the formation of a truly new culture. With the exception of the Aboriginal population, Taiwan is comprised almost solely of people of Chinese origin. It is a tiny island, which sits only a stone’s throw away from the mainland. Complicating matters further, political and economic power here has, since the 1950s, been primarily controlled by the KMT. In contrast to the mix of poor peasants who settled North America, the KMT, led by Generalisimo Chiang Kai Shek, ruled all of China in the early part of the century. They continued to be recognized as the rightful rulers of China until 1972 when Nixon visited Beijing and established diplomatic relations with Chairman Mao Tse Tung. The KMT was never interested in declaring the independence of Taiwan. Until recently, they were interested primarily in wresting power of the mainland from the Communists. For the KMT, Taiwan was never home, but rather a place of exile.

It is telling that amongst those Taiwanese who abhor the idea of reunification, many support the labeling of Taiwan and the Mainland as ‘Two Chinas’. Why Two Chinas? I often wondered. Why not simply ‘China and Taiwan’? During a recent trip to Beijing with a contingent of students and professors from the Landscape Architecture departments of Taiwan’s universities, my understanding of this idea of two Chinas became clearer.

I was very fortunate to be invited on this inaugural program of academic exchange. Not only was I able to tour the numerous historical sites in Beijing with some of the world’s experts on Chinese architecture, I also listened to presentations related to landscape architecture by professors from both Taiwan and Beijing. Despite being exhausted by my attempt to understand hour after hour of academic Chinese, I gained much from the experience. The subject matter of almost all of the Taiwanese presentations related somehow to the history of Chinese thought and culture. One presenter discussed the architectural descriptions in the classic The Dream of the Red Chamber, another discussed the legitimacy of feng shui as a design tool, another discussed the influence of European landscape design on Chinese landscape design throughout history. The further one attempts to understand how things are now, the further one must go back into history. So to discuss the meaning of Taiwanese design and culture, one must inevitably go back to China. ‘Five thousand years of history’ is a phrase that is often heard in both China and Taiwan. I used to consider this phrase a fetishization of history that distracted from the failures of modern Chinese culture; or as a hollow legitimization for the unyielding policies of the Chinese Communist Party towards Taiwan, Tibet, and Xinjiang. But participating in this exchange helped me to realize that five thousand years of history, is much more than a slogan, it is an inescapable reality. For better or worse, Taiwan is encompassed by this history.

I will never become a supporter of the KMT and my views on the rightful sovereignty of Taiwan will never change, but this trip helped me to realize the necessity of opening up as many lines of communication as possible with the mainland. Taiwan may be ahead of China in many areas, but Taiwan is small and in order to grow it must participate in open academic discussion with Chinese thinkers. Taiwan and China are culturally different but they share the same history. The free exchange of ideas can only benefit both sides.

The Tainan Oyster Masquerade: Part 1

If you ask most Taiwanese where to head for a relaxing weekend of fine seafood and ocean scenery, it is unlikely their first answer will be Tainan. For those who have not visited in recent years the mention of Tainan’s beaches is more likely to bring up connotations of washed up detritus and industrial despoilment, than places to be enjoyed for their natural beauty. And while this makeover is still a work in progress, one has an opportunity to enjoy the city, before it undergoes the inevitable tourist oriented transformation of Kenting.

As part of the national government’s long overdue attempt to remarket Taiwan as a destination for international tourism, Tainan has received massive grants to upgrade its public spaces and build upon its historical and natural assets. They have done well, creating an environment replete with beautifully landscaped, pedestrian-oriented districts that enhance the historic architecture and present a wealth of opportunities for pleasant street-side eating.

Despite the hungry donkey’s long tenure in Taiwan we have spent little time in this fine city, and we in no way claim to be experts in the subtleties of Tainan cuisine. It should also be stated that one of our meals was in fact a disastrous insult (this nightmare will be recounted in gory detail in the first installment of the Angry Donkey). But aside from this one wrong turn, our brief culinary adventures in the city were a resounding success.

In this first installment on the cuisine of Tainan, we will focus on a single ingredient. It is to be found in great abundance in the city. It requires no cooking and is best enjoyed with as little meddling as possible. The flavour of this food cannot be enhanced by elaborately concocted sauces. When it is contaminated in such a manner, it draws more attention to the ego of the chef than to the subtle potency of its God-given essence. For as Anatole France so wisely posited:

"What can be more foolish than to think that all this rare fabric of heaven and earth could come by chance, when all the skill of art is not able to make an oyster! "

Darwin clearly never had the pleasure of a raw oyster. Yes my friends, the oyster, sent straight from heaven in all of its glory. Debatably a superior organism to man, and most definitely a superior organism to the donkey!

Our first experience with the Tainan oyster was an admitted failure on our part. Knowing that we live in a culture whose enjoyment of the oyster is largely limited to battered and deep-fried with basil, or sautéed into a ketchup-drowned omelette, we should have been painstakingly specific in our instructions to the cook. Specifying the word “raw” was clearly not sufficient. When our oysters emerged from the back of the restaurant they were indeed raw, but the shells were nowhere to be seen. The oysters had been torn from their natural casings and laid on a bed of ice. Serving a raw oyster without its shell can only be likened to serving a raw wiener with its skin peeled off. Or perhaps returning a child to its mother with its eyes and limbs removed. It’s a heinous crime and an assault on the senses.

Half of the enjoyment of eating a raw oyster is with the experience of the shell. It’s rough, encrusted outing casing and its exquisitely smooth and delicate inner surface. These contrasts are experienced through both vision and touch—by the eye as it sits on the plate; by the hand as it is raised to the lips; and by the tongue just before the moment of consumption.

This aesthetic depredation was mirrored in the taste of the flesh. Not only does the shell serve as an object of contemplation, it also acts as a vessel for the essential juices that bring with them the higher-toned, sublime flavours of the oyster—they are the very soul of the oyster. The foolishness of discarding this nectar cannot be overstated.

Being deprived of the shell along with the essential juices of the oysters, we were left with only a pale shadow of what an oyster can be—limpid, slimy things clinging to ice-cubes, presented with wasabi on the side, and consumed with chopsticks. The entire experience was less than satisfying and should be taken as a warning for others looking for the glory of the oyster in Tainan. Specify not only raw but also in the shell. If you don’t know how to say this in Chinese, look it up.