Riding China: A taste of Chongqing

So, I thought I would try something a little bit different this afternoon (we have a bit of downtime today).   Riding China (being written in China) is progressing nicely, and I want to share a prelude of what you’ll read when you purchase the book.

Here you go, folks.

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Sean and Tracy took us to a hole-in-the-wall little place for lunch on the main drag just outside the entrance to Zongshen’s 100-acre manufacturing campus. It was one of those places I would have looked at in the past and thought “who would ever eat there?”   You know the kind of place I’m describing.   Funky. Scary.  Diseases waiting to pounce on anyone daring (and foolish) enough to risk all by eating there.

“Hey, this looks good,” Gresh said.

You know, peer pressure is a powerful thing.   Gresh was up for it, so I had to be, too.

I swallowed my fears, and within a few minutes I was damned glad I did. The food was amazing.   Tracy was concerned about us having to use chopsticks and he suggested we use the forks we had just purchased, but something came over me.   I’ve traveled all over Asia, I lived in Asia for a year when I was in the Army more than half a lifetime ago, and I had never mastered chopsticks.  It was a serious character flaw I was about to correct.  That day, at that moment, and for that meal, I made up my mind:   Forks were for wusses.   I was in China.  I would do as the Chinese have been doing for millennia.  The feeling and confidence that enveloped me were almost Zen-like.   I picked up my chopsticks.   They became one with my hand.  The bamboo splints became my fingers.  Fried tofu with red peppers.   Sautéed eggplant with exotic spices.  Won ton soup.   Weird looking black corrugated and flower-like mushrooms. Searing spices and red chili peppers that were somehow soothing. I conquered all with my chopsticks.  It was the best lunch I ever had.