A Day in Lanzhou

We pulled into station at dawn, an overcrowded train from Shanghai filled with homebound workers, drowsy passengers in every position- sitting, standing, crouched by the corridor, lying flat in the corridor alike were jolted awake by the train whistle, sore backs were sprung into action without pause—in a trice all were jostling and pushing their way on to platforms and fanning out of the station. I was in Lanzhou, hearing the siren call of Lanzhou Lamian, breakfast food to the locals, workaday meal on the cheap for all of China. But I stop for a jianbing, if nothing else but for a study in variation of savory egg pancakes common to everywhere--- crispy with a good dousing of sweet sauce in Shanghai, soft with fermented soybean paste in the Northeast, intensely salty with pickled mustard in Anhui and so forth, what I considered to be a pointer towards regional palates came redolent of fermented beancurd in Lanzhou, suitably fortifying me for the next round of grub.

On Lanzhou’s gustatory street of “small eats”, the institutional Grey Beans Kings served up bean-centric desserts, in particular huidou “grey beans”, the wholesome goodness of black peas stewed with dates unmarred by saccharine sweetness. Teens gathered there for dates sharing liangfen on a hot stuffy day, an elderly grandpa with his lao ban(old companion) beckoned to me behind his newspaper. Kindly advice for the road was offered, grandpa totally getting my eco-tourism sensibilities, vouching for the good nature of Tibetans where I was heading whereas grandma expressed her doubts. A debate ensued of famous Lanzhou Lamian(grandma) vs unknown neighborhood Lanzhou Lamian(grandpa) for which I may affirm in the former producing an insipid bowl of limp noodles while the latter proved stellar--- snappy toothsome noodles in a robust beef broth that I could blissfully breakfast on every morning. A great start to the Short Journey to the West of China Proper, I'd say.