Peking Duck (北京烤鸭), pronounced Beijing kaoya. Yes, I actually can read (and write) that!We asked Gu laoshi if he had any recommendations for where to get good Peking Duck, and he told us he would make us a reservation and order for us. The group thought it'd be nice to invite him since he was going to all the trouble of setting the event up for us, and we were very pleased to have him and another NU professor staying in Beijing join us for dinner.
Gu Laoshi made us a reservation at the same restaurant in Houhai that he took President Schapiro--so you know it's going to be good. We were all shocked when the hostess led us to a private room overlooking the stage. During dinner we were entertained by a variety show complete with musicians, puppets, a magician, and uni-cycling juggler. There were some pretty spectacular talents, but also some rather useless ones, like the women who sang while clenching a candle holder in her teeth. It was honestly just plain uncomfortable to watch.
The meal, however, was delicious. There were an assortment of vegetables, fish, spicy beef, and even french fries as appetizers, which we ate while the duck was cooking. Peking Duck is a dish that dates back to the imperial era and is now considered to be a national food of China. When the main course finally arrived, the server brought the duck out whole and carved it in front of us. The skin of the duck is the most prized part--often restaurants will serve more of the thin, crispy skin than the meat itself.
The server sliced a large piece of skin off onto a separate dish and cut it into smaller pieces. The custom is for diners to each eat a slice before beginning the meal, and the host always eats last. Traditionally, the duck is wrapped and eaten in a very thin pancake along with cucumbers, scallions, and hoisin sauce. I didn't take to the crisp, oily duck as much as the rest of my group, but I quite enjoyed the entire experience anyway. Unlike everyone else who filled up on duck, I had plenty of room for the hao-chi ("delicious", Shui laoshi would be so proud that I'm using vocab!) red-bean desserts.
It was even more of a treat when Professor Xia announced that he would generously pay for the entire meal. We begged him to let us contribute, but he insisted. And hey, I know a good (free) thing when I see it. The entire meal was easily $300 US, so we settled for just thanking him profusely. We walked around the nearby Houhai area, and then Professor Xia suggested to Gu Laoshi that they try a foot massage place nearby. They invited us along and since it was still relatively early, we figured a foot massage would be a great way to cap off the evening.
We split up into two cabs and the other cab was the first to arrive at the spa. As we entered, I could tell immediately that this wasn't the little hole-in-the-wall foot massage places that I'd seen in Wudaokou. It was a full-fledged spa, complete with marble tiles and fountain in the lobby. We are definitely not in Kansas anymore. It was probably the nicest anything we'd seen since the St. Regis Hotel. The hostess was expecting us and lead us down a few winding hallways when, finally, we arrived at a door. When she opened it, what I saw utterly astounded me.
Professor Xia and the rest of the group had already gotten comfortable in the private room we were given. It was quite the sight. I actually laughed out when I walked in. Each of them already had been given wicker recliners and were being worked on by two masseuses.
We signed up for a "foot massage," but what we got was two hours of foot, leg, back, neck, and scalp massages. For the majority of the time we had one person massaging our feet and one massaging our head/neck. The entire experience was completely ridiculous and a bargain at 150 kuai (just over $20 US). It's too bad I'm too tense and ticklish to really relax. The women working on me had a hard time not laughing every time I spazzed out. It is clear to me now that I am not cut out for massages.
I tolerated most of what was thrown at me during the two-hour massage, but I was not happy when I saw the masseuse pull out the fire cups. Though I was assured that it would not be painful, about 30 seconds in I was in a great deal of pain and begging the girl to take them off my feet. She smiles, laughs, and then leaves the room. About five minutes later, she returns and takes them off my feet. I breathe a huge sigh of relief and let go of Kelsey, whose hand I had been clutching.
I went home with some minor bruising on my feet certain that I would never try cupping again.
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