GOURMET IN THE EAST

Evening Star, Issue 22142, 24 September 1935, Page 12

GOURMET IN THE EAST

SOME STRANGE DISHES When the average Australian walks into a restaurant, tosses his hat ana coat on a peg, calls a waitress, and rattles off an order for soup, steak and suet .pudding, he gives his choice of food about as little thought as he would bestow on the mere act of going to sleep at night (says a contributor to an Australian exchange). Food and sleep are both necessary for his continued good health; both are easily obtainable,* and that is all that matters.

But to the Frenchman hovering over bis wine list, to the Italian arranging a dinner party,.and to the Japanese caressing his sukeyaki with tender chopsticks, eating is something more than a regular item in the daily routine. Europe can offer many choice.dishes, and the gourmet finds an earthlyparadise in some of the grill rooms of London and Paris, but nowhere will be find such variety as in some of the big restaurants of Shanghai, Hongkong, Kobe, and Yokohama. •

The Chinese bow to none in the preparation of food, and anyone who has survived, a 20-course meal, sweetened by super-charged sham shu, will admit there is'something in the Chinese claim to world supremacy in the culinary art. Of course, it is largely a matter of taste. Fried frogs’ legs may not appeal to every palate', and the average foreigner in China may not agree with the local view that the eye of the. fish is the choicest portion, I have often watched half a dozen pairs of chopsticks dive unerringly for the head of the fish the moment it is placed upon the table. The eye is removed in a flash, and the fish turned over to meet a combined attack upon the other eye. Systematic dissection then proceeds.

And what, of the much-advertised LOOO-year-old Chinese eggs? Nonsense! Five years, or maybe 10 years, but no decent restaurant would dream or serving up eggs laid as far back as 935 a.d. Despite their age, these 10-year-old-eggs are pleasing to the palate.

Birds’ nest soup! -Disgusting, yon say, but it*is really good, and if'Australians tasted dbarks’ fin soup -they, VOuld. not be exporting in such large quantities what they ■ consider to be the useless appendage of a thoroughly useless fish. '

Australians who . have visited Japan will be with me when I say that the hotels which cater for the foreigner are equal to the best in other parts of the world. For the purposes of this story, however, I am ' not interested in large tourist hotels. Let us eat, instead, at some out-of-the-way sukeyaki shop, and observe the ceremony that goes, with the simplest Japanese meals.

NO FOOTWEAR,

. Of course, it is unpafdonably rude to eat while wearing shoes, , or even slippers, so you throw them off lightheartedly with a fervent prayer on your lips that there are no holes in your socks. The table is- only a few inches high, so,' naturally, there are no chairs; you squat on the floor. The food is prepared, on the table, around which the: diners are squatting. A small charcoal or gas fire is set up in the middle of this table, and the ingredients are cooked in an iron pan. The m'eat, lean, tender slices, cut in long strips, goes in first 1 , followed by the vegetables, the bamboo shoots, and the sauces. When the sukeyaki is 'cooked, the most adept with the chopsticks gets the best piece of meat, the tenderest bamboo shoot. Because sukeyaki is a rich dish, a few howls of rice are usually eaten withit. A bottle of warm sake (Japan’s national, drink) brings the whole'meal close to perfection. I have tasted a number of Chinese and Japanese dishes, but I think the most unusual - meal 1-consumed while in the East was at .the German Club in Kobe, where I went as the guest of an English member. No cocktails were seryed before dinner, hut there were steins of beer, which the company drank in large quantities. When everyone was seated, a procession of Japanese “ boys ” entered bearing large tureens of the thickest vegetable soup I have ever seen. When my portion had been ladled out, H selected a spoon and lifted it for action. Then my host tapped me gently on the arm. “ Not yet, ho whispered, and ; I replaced the spoon, a little red in the race. I was wondering what breach of table manners I had committed, for everybody had been' served, when a second procession filed through the doorway. It was also composed of Japanese “boys,” but this time they were bearing large trays of steaming pork. I glanced covertly at my host, and saw him piling the pork into his soup. I did the same when the pork was placed in front ■ of me, for there seemed to be no other place to put the stuff. Then I was faced with a problem. Did one start with a spoon, or with knife and fork? I was still debating the question when another procession appeared, bringing lashings of sauerkraut. It looked quite well on top of the pork and soup, but the situation was decoming desperate. At any time, I thought ice cream might be brought m. My host was deep in conversation with another of his guests, and I had no one to turn to. I felt like rushing from the room, when I sighted more “ boys ” bearing down on the table, like a column of attaching infantry. Thank heaven they came only to replenish the steins. At last thel chairman gave the signal to commence, and it seemed that nobody cared whether you used knife, fork, spoon, or fingers. I followed the example of my host, and everybody else in sight, and when the meal was over made the discovery that serviettes actually did have some purpose in life. I used mine to wipe my fingers. ■ .. ' %