Asians around the world are preparing to celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival aka the Moon Festival. September 14 will be the date for the 2008 festivities. The festival is popular in China, Vietnam, Korea, and other east-Asia nations.

I’ve talked about other Chinese holidays (Seven-Seven and the Dragon Boat Festival). The Mid-Autumn Festival originates from a folktale about a rabbit, an archer and his beautiful wife, immortality, and celestial bodies.

This is no simple holiday, like Christmas. There’s no man in a red suit giving you presents. It’s complicated stuff; you need Cliff’s Notes to keep the characters straight. Luckily, dear reader, you have an intrepid journalist deep in the heart of (south) China, willing to go to any length to get the skinny on this fête.

…there was an immortal named Houyi, part of the court of the Jade Emperor, the King of Heaven. Before they wed, Houyi’s lovely wife Chang’e, had been an attendant to the Queen Mother of the West (the Emperor’s wife).

Houyi the archer and Chang'e the lady on the moon.

The immortals, probably because they had little else to do (and bowling had yet to be invented) liked to squabble. Houyi somehow aroused the other immortals’ jealousy. Being petty, they slandered Houyi before the Jade Emperor. He and Chang’e were banished from heaven. The couple lived upon the earth and hunted to survive. Houyi became a famous archer.

In the days of yor, 10 suns circled the earth, a different one each day. Then: Catastrophe. All 10 suns appeared in the sky the same day. The earth was a mess. Crops were scorched, people received nasty burns (SPF ratings, like bowling, had not been invented yet) and without the invention of electricity there wasn’t a cold Coke in sight.

China’s Emperor Yao commanded Houyi to shoot down nine of the 10 suns, lest The Middle Kingdom be destroyed. Houyi, skilled bow-and-arrow dude that he was, complied and shot the fiery balls of gas from the heavens. The Emperor was pleased and gave Houyi a pill that granted eternal life, but warned the archer to fast and reflect for one year before taking it.

At home, Houyi hid the pill in the rafters and started to prepare himself as instructed. Enter Chang’e. She noticed a beam of light from the rafters and discovered the pill. Houyi returned and she swallowed the pill to mask her discovery. He wasn’t pleased, and berated her for her transgression. The pill had given her the power to fly, and that she did, into the sky. Her husband chased her until a strong wind forced him to return to earth.

Chang’e ended up on the moon. her flying powers spent. She coughed and half the pill fell from her mouth. She lived with the Jade Rabbit, that according to Chinese mythology, resides on the moon.  The rabbit, an apothecary to the immortals, was put to work trying to replicate the second half of the pill so she could return to earth.

The Jade Rabbit, resident of the moon.

Aside: There are many explanations for the rabbit on the moon. Some versions say Chang’e took the rabbit with her, another says the rabbit was already in residence, having been given a place in the moon palace after sacrificing himself for three hungry sages.

Somehow, Houyi built himself a palace on the sun. Once a year, on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month – Mid-Autumn Festival – he visits his wife, thus explaining the moon’s brightness on this day. Houyi was the yang (male symbol) and Chang’e, the ying (female symbol).

Trying to decipher this tale is difficult. In one version Houyi is a tyrant that saves the world from the suns and then takes the throne. He has his court wizards prepare a elixir of immortality so he can be king forever. Chang’e doesn’t like her husband’s despotic rule and steals the elixir so he can’t lord over his subjects for eternity. Another tale is similar to the story of Pandora’s Box.

Mid-Autumn festival is the second most important Chinese Holiday (Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year being the first). It’s a time for family reunions and a celebration of the harvest.

The food of the festival is the Moon Cake: Lotus seed paste wrapped in a thin pastry. Egg yolks or salted eggs are often the center of the cakes. It is a heavy delicacy, often eaten in small portions with tea.

From Wikipedia:
Traditional mooncakes have an imprint on top consisting of the Chinese characters for “longevity” or “harmony” as well as the name of the bakery and filling in the moon cake. Imprints of a moon, a woman on the moon, flowers, vines, or a rabbit may surround the characters for additional decoration.

Mooncakes are expensive and considered a delicacy, and production is labor-intensive and few people make them at home. Most mooncakes are bought at Asian markets and bakeries. The price of mooncakes range from $10 to $50 (in US money).

The holiday can be traced back to 1060 BCE, to the Chinese Xia and Shang Dynasties. It was during the Tang Dynasty (5th to 8th centuries) that it became very popular. With the recent change in national holidays, Mid-Autumn festival is now a day off. Previously it was celebrated but not granted “day off” status.

What do people for Mid-Autumn festival? Simple: Go to a restaurant or someone’s home. Eat a big meal, drink, and consume moon cakes. A less-than-reliable website has a different idea, it lists the following as the activities engaged in:

A mooncake - the food of Mid-Autumn Festival.

• Eating moon cakes outside under the moon
• Putting pomelo rinds on one’s head
• Carrying brightly lit lanterns
• Burning incense in reverence to deities including Chang’e
• Planting Mid-Autumn trees
• Lighting lanterns on towers
• Fire Dragon Dances

I should be Wiki’s man on the ground. That list is not entirely correct.

Happy Mid-Autumn Festival. I’ll be thinking of you while eating moon cakes.

Working with a lot of Guangdongers (Cantonese), my diet has seen a radical shift. Mrs. Stevo likes pork: Pork for breakfast, pork for lunch, and (you guessed it) pork for dinner. I eat a lot of pork. Mostly very spicy pork, Mrs. Stevo being from fiery Hunan.

aside: Hunan girls have a reputation as being fiery – I will say that is well deserved.

The Guangdong boys, on the other hand, eat duck. Duck for lunch, duck for dinner. Cantonese Roast Duck, stewed duck, duck soup, duck heads, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck. Growing up in Canada duck wasn’t on the menu. For some, the children of duck hunters or farmers, yes. For moi? Nay. I didn’t eat duck until I came to China.

One night last week we had goose (which in Chinese is three character – two of which are duck and chicken – I guess the goose covers all bases). Soon, I will be the Foreign King of Water Fowl.

I’m not complaining. Nay. It’s a pleasant change from pork.

The above image was taken in Kenilworth, England during my January 2009 excursion.

There’s a lot of food in China that visitors consider strange. Fried rabbit heads, pickled chicken’s feet, civet cat, dog hot pot, and a plethora of organ meat-based dishes. From a western perspective, yes, these dishes are indeed strange.

There’s a linkage in between Chinese foods and health. Josh at Far West China recently posted a notice from his local health department on food combinations to avoid. Chinese traditional medicine is an interesting practice. I think it is grounded in the belief that medicine must make you sicker to make you better. Newts, sea horses, root and berries can be combined to restore you chi and make you well.

This gruesome tale combines both Chinese medicine and Chinese food. I guarantee, this is something you don’t want to try.

Lin Zongxiu, from the southwestern province of Sichuan, heard in 2008 that soup made with a man’s head could help cure her daughter who had suffered from psychiatric problems for years, the Chengdu Commercial newspaper reported.

Lin and her husband decided to enlist the help of a man in December who knocked unconscious a drunk 76-year-old passer-by before beheading him, the paper claimed. The couple then gave their 25-year-old daughter soup made from the man’s head, and duck.
Source: The Telegraph

Yikes! I was always worried about waking up in a bathtub full of ice, missing a kidney. This adds an entire new dimension to my travel fears. I could be returning to a hostel, tipsy, and wake up the next morning beheaded. Damn!

The murderer was sentenced to death, with a two year reprieve (which means if he’s a good boy the sentence will likely be commuted to life in prison). Ms Lin was convicted of helping destroy evidence, although some in the culinary community will think the dish she concocted deserves severe punishment.

There was no word on whether the “cure” worked. There is a certain tit-for-tat: An insane act to cure insanity. I didn’t think Hannibal Lecter’s Cookbook had been yet translated into Chinese.

Image: cherishedgiftfavors.com

SPAM, Korean-Style

My life, teaching English in China: What do you do on a Saturday night when your friends abandon you?

Eat SPAM. That’s right. Go the Korean grocery store, buy a can of imported Korean SPAM Luncheon Meat, then return home, make some toast, and grab the mustard.

What? You don’t like SPAM? There seems to be bias in North America regarding canned meat products. For me, SPAM falls into the NCF category: Not Chinese Food. I live in China, and the majority of my diet is Chinese food, but sometimes you need a taste of something different. Comfort food, perhaps.

That’s not to say there isn’t SPAM in Chinese food. There’s SPAM in fried rice, SPAM hot dogs, and SPAM fried noodles. I’m being broad in my interpretation of SPAM. In Chinese food it’s not real SPAM, but a Chinese SPAM-like tinned meat. Sometimes said meat isn’t in a can and doesn’t require refrigeration. I find that both amazing and frightening.

Did the Hormel Food Corporation think in 1937, the year they released SPAM, it would one day graces the tables of China, being incorporated in staple Chinese dishes? Probably not. Could they have envisioned the joy of a Canadian expatriate in China, eating a can of Shoulder of Pork and Ham manufactured in Korea? Probably not. If I had a time machine I’d travel back to shake the hands of those wonderful, SPAM-creating men.

Ya Baby, It's Super Light.

To accompany the SPAM sandwich(es) I ate while watch Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry in Magnum Force, I drank a can cans of Kingway Super Light Beer. How could you not drink something called Super Light? Is it so light as to be good for you? Is it the Chinese beer equivalent of ambrosia?

Kingway is a Shenzhen, China, Brewery, and is fighting for market share with the Chinese beer dragon, Tsing Tao, the national brand.  Heineken International owns a 21% stake in Kingway. The company also produces a beer called Kingway Super Fresh. (aside: that would be a great hip-hop name: MC Super Fresh).

Sorry: Is it the Chinese beer equivalent of ambrosia?

In a word: No. But I am trying to eat healthy. Drinking regular non-super-light beer while eating sandwiches made with tinned meat containing dangerous levels of saturated fat and sodium would not have been especially healthy.

I’m giving serious consideration to translating Monty Python’s Spamalot into Chinese and starting a small theatre company to perform the show. I adapt the script to incorporate Kingway Super Light.

Bamboo-Not just for Pandas

I wanted to shoot some photos of roses. I thought I would try a few things until my new studio equipment arrives (Buying items from the Chinese version of eBay is easy, except the payment portion of the transaction.)

There is a little stand right outside my building. The woman sells fresh flowers, goldfish, and ready-to-eat pineapple. Alas, when I arrived yesterday she was having an altercation with security guards and the police. No roses for me, or anyone else. Long-stem roses are cheap in China, about $0.45 US each.  Yunnan Province grows a lot of roses, and supplies most of Asia with fresh flowers.

I searched the market next door to find a replacement for the wayward roses. Bamboo, I wondered? Why not. It’s tasty, when cooked with hot peppers and pork.

This was shot against a white wall with a low shutter speed, window light to the left, off-camera flash to the front. ISO 100, 1/3 sec, f/9. Should my stands, umbrellas and flash ever arrive I’ll delve into the world of food photography because:  a) food is very cheap; b) I can eat the subjects when the shoot is over. The same can not be said for portraits.

I found a great site for cheap frugal photographers like myself.  DIY Photography has a great list of projects you can do at home using materials from art or hardware stores. I am considering building this DIY backdrop stand instead of buying one.

Lily, or Ni Ni, or Li Li (she’s a women of many names, owing mostly to her Sichuan dialect) owns an outdoor noodle stand. The specialty of the house is Suan La Fen, or Sour Spicy Rice Noodles. It is eaten by the multitudes from paper bowls, while perched precariously on plastic stools over tables that have seen much better days.

She opens around noon, and closes when the customers are gone. The back of the stand is covered with a large, open-sided tent. A bare florescent bulb illuminates the tables and diners after dark.

Lily smiles. She laughs. She rhymes off your bill like a human adding machine.

Her stand also has a wide variety of meat-on-a-stick and an always-ready deep fryer to cook said meats.  The greasy treats are popular with the students after class (high school students head home at 10 pm). The cold pijiu is popular with their teachers.

Photo Notes: Canon 40D, ISO 400, 1/2000, f/3.2, with an EF  70-200 f/2.8L