你今天想吃什么？

When we go to “good” Chinese restaurants, we usually suffer from the syndrome of not being able to read the menu properly. Although we have tried very hard to study and learn, Chinese 菜名 (names of dishes) are often quite poetic. For instance, a very famous Chinese dish is called 鱼香肉丝, which literally means fish-smelling meat-silk (or meat-thread). As a beginner in the Chinese language, just having learnt the character 鱼 (meaning “fish”), you may order this dish expecting some sort of fish. Actually, this name refers to sour-spicy pork.

One way of dealing with this matter is to go to smaller restaurants (hole-in-the-wall type places): here, you’ll get what you think you’ll get. In Xi’an, the most common dish is by far 牛肉面 (beef noodles), indicating a large bowl of noodles in beef-flavoured stock (about 3 kuai). If you are very lucky, you’ll get a green vegetable or two, and if that happens to be your day, you’ll get some pieces of beef as well. However, meat is usually provided only if you order a more expensive version of the dish (i.e., the “add meat” or “large piece” version). Another popular dish is 包子 (baozi, buns): the street south of the south gate of Jiaoda offers a range of baozi places. My impression is that baozi here are a bit bigger than those that I had in Beijing and Shanghai, but the taste is not very different. In my opinion, baozi is best enjoyed with a generous bowl of soup. The general fare around here is a clear soup with seaweed, coriander, tiny shrimps, spring onions, and occasionally, a lost egg. However, it is important that the two are taken at the same time: in case we first eat baozi and then drink, we all know that one baozi in the stomach quickly becomes seven.

包子

One thing that western universities must learn from their Chinese counterparts is how to feed their students: Jiaoda boasts a number of 食堂 (shitang, “canteen”), of which the largest has three floors for different occasions (the first is very simple, operating for lunch only; the second is mid-range; the third is equipped with wait-staff and table-cloths). “Canteen” is hardly an appropriate translation for a 食堂, since it carries the connotation of lack of choice. The食堂, in contrast, offers almost every kind of (northern) Chinese food that you could imagine. Although it might not be as heartily cooked as at a better restaurant, the price is consistently less than half of what you would usually pay. (+ for the abundant supply of fresh fruit as well!)


食堂