When I got in from my visit to the Forbidden Temple, a message from Mark Schwarze was waiting. Although we were scheduled to be picked up by Mr. Sun the next morning, the message was that he was already in town and had invited us to dinner. Could I be ready in an hour? From that moment on, I feel I have been in the hands of Mr. Sun's gracious hospitality.
We met Mr. Sun and his interpretor/attorney, Mr. Lee, in the Beijing Hilton's lobby. After smiling greetings, we headed off to a restaurant with the unlikely name of "The Pig Head." Located just a few blocks from the Hilton, it sported a brightly painted logo that reminded me of a long forgotten cartoon mainstay, Porky Pig. Inside, we were ushered into a private room with a round table large enough to accommodate the five of us in attendance. Wait-staff, each wearing a paper hat with the pig logo on the front, began attending us with unrivaled attention to detail and need.
This is, perhaps, an appropriate time to note that, in Mandarin, the words "business dinner" seem to translate into "sumptuous ceremonial feast." Thus far, I've attended several group dinners honoring my presence in China, and none has had fewer than 20 courses of food. All have been served family style, with the various dishes placed onto a rotating lazy-susan located in the middle of the table. The lazy-susan is large enough that it may be reached by all those seated at the table, the size of which is dependent upon how many are being served at this particular dinner. Although there were a dozen people at one dinner I attended, the chosen table accommodated us all.
Since most of our readers haven't had the opportunity to attend one of these culturally and gastronomically stimulating events, I'll do my best to provide a description, preceded by the caveat that mere words can do no justice to the events themselves. I'm afraid that one truly "has to be there" in order to fully appreciate the goings-on.
More often than not, everyone remains standing, while waiting for the American guest to arrive and be escorted into the room. In China, far more than in the U.S., the correct seating arrangement is very important. Typically, it appears, that the most important person is seated to the left of the host. If there is a next-most-important guest, they are seated to the host's right. However, if there is a next most important guest beyond the first two, the host's assistant is seated on that person's right, in order to assist in any need. More rarely, at the moment of the honored guest's arrival, anyone who has already been seated, jumps up for the jovial round of introductions and business card swapping that ensues. Since I'm someone who regularly has trouble being on time, knowing that a crowd of people may be standing in wait of my arrival has provided huge impetus for being timely.
If they're not already on the table, custom dictates that about half a dozen appetizers be placed onto the revolving glass as soon as seating occurs. Then, as the meal progresses, the appetizers are supplemented by, and then replaced with, the main course dishes. All the dinners i've attended have lasted several hours; however, I have no way of knowing if that's a normal occurrence. In large part, these dinners last so long because the actual eating seems to be a somewhat inconsequential part of the overall event!
More important are the frequent interruptions for toasts of the ever-present Chinese beer, Vanjing. Toasts are offered on all manner of topics, and are either proposed to include the entire table, or as a person-to-person tribute. Because I have been welcomed as a distinguished visitor at every stop, an incredible number of these toasts have been directed to me personally: to my health, to cooperation between our two countries, as a welcoming to China, etc. In some cases, these toasts occur one after the other, around the table, so each person has a turn to offer me their thoughts and wishes in their toast.
As far as I've been able to determine -- and I've tried several times to see if any kind of a loophole might exist -- there is no polite way for an honored guest to decline a toast given in his honor. I've begun to suspect that those particular words simply aren't in the Mandarin vocabulary. The most I've learned to hope for is that I can get the person proposing the toast to agree to my plea for 'banbea'. If so, he or she won't be offended if we only drink our glass half way down. (After each toast, our glasses are always refilled, immediately by the wait-staff.) Most of the time, a request for 'banbea' is greeted with a smile, a shake of the head, and the spirited response of 'gambei', which means, Bottoms up! Must drink all the way down!
Our readers with a mathematical background may have already seen the inherent problem that I, as "editor of the American Sweeper magazine and honored visitor from United States," have been faced with in these situations. In a dinner party with, say, only eight other people, if each proposes a total of just two toasts to me and one to all, then that would be, um, how many glasses of beer? Let's see, if you carry the one, or is that a two, uh, what is that you are saying, sir? You are telling me that you want be to drink perhaps some beer of glass to new friend America of...? Banbea? No, again gambea?! Did I mention that on a few occasions, these toasts have been held during lunches, followed later by more toasts at dinner?
Fortunately, there's food to go with the beer -- lots and lots and lots of food. That's where the lazy-susan concept is so handy. In the unlikely event that the extremely attendant wait-persons allow one's plate to become empty enough to hold more food, guests refill their own plates by rotating the lazy susan until whatever dish they want more of is nearby. Usually, toward the end of the meal, the primary host takes care to personally make sure the honored guest's plate is kept full of the choicest of the items. Protests that one cannot eat another bite are not understood well. When it comes to food, the 'banbea' word doesn't seem to work.
Some of the food is recognizable to my Western eyes, some is not. However, all the dishes I've seen so far have been quite flavorful and prepared well. Some that I do recognize, like chicken and other small fowl such as pigeon, include parts of the animal we're not used to eating, such as the head and feet. Fish have most often been served whole, including head and tail, and ornately prepared so as to provide a beautiful visual appeal. There have also been food carvings, like the Mandarin carrot sculpture you see in the photo, placed with the dishes to add visual appeal.
One of my favorite dishes through the first several dinners has been a large, thickened noodle that's almost translucent in color, and served with several types of flavorful sauces. However, it's lost a bit of its intitial appeal since I thought to ask what it was it actually is. The answer translated to "softened deer hide." Okay, back to sweeping...
