have chopsticks, will travel

As a self professed food critic, I plan all my travels around food, cultural diversity at the table and satisfying my constantly growling stomach. But rather than sitting in a cosy café and enjoying the art of people watching, my obsession with food constantly beckons me to feed my inner curiosity and observe people at their weakest moment - eating.

The beauty of watching a child munch on a piping hot donut filled with sweet raspberry jam or peering over a menu to watch a woman hollow out her bagel yet chase down a triple choc mocha is addictive. Perhaps it’s my love for food that occasionally gets me the stink eye for gawking at people as they eat but I make no excuses - Travel and food rule my life.

So when presented with the opportunity to explore authentic home-style cooking amongst the backdrop of a rich heritage, I packed quickly, moving en route to China.

My journey began when the seatbelt sign lit up and the moist toilettes were handed out. 15 minutes into my flight, I was already bored by the movies and magazines.. My eyes widened as the perfume of microwave meals streamed out of the kitchen cabin. Recovering from a big breakfast, I opted to let my food tray ‘rest’ momentarily and take in the in-flight entertainment of my fellow travellers.

Watching on, many of the non-western passengers looked confusingly at what was presented in front of them. No chopsticks, but strange metal objects; no steamed buns just crusty and balls that we affectionately call bread. My fellow traveller in the emergency exit tickled me silly smelling everything before putting it down. Without touching his main meal, he randomly picks up the block of butter, opening up the silver package and pops the entire slab in his mouth. Not sure whether to scream out or hide my boisterous giggle, I watched tentatively for the next entertaining drama to unfold.

Upon arriving at my destination, I was greeted by welcoming friends promising an authentic Chinese meal for the visiting Westerner. Telling my story to those that would listen or at least understand, I giggled my way through my interesting first meal in China. Mastering the art of talking and eating at the same time, I picked up my chopstick and jabbed at the dim sum known as Xiao Long Bao. For those not food savvy, like I was at the time, these delicacies are best enjoyed piping hot and eaten carefully so that the juices remain in the pastry for full enlightenment. Unaware of the etiquettes surrounding these morsels, I continued to spear my chopsticks through my tucker. Horror struck friends around the Lazy Susan look on with disgust and concern, with my closest neighbour elbowing me and whispering the taboo that I had just committed.

Slightly embarrassed, I turn nervously around the room checking whether my friend with the butter fetish was around to see me commit the same crime but in a different setting.