It is a fact: The egg preceded the chicken. Unfortunately, explaining why is well beyond the scope of this article. Readers are invited to take as scientific gospel the words of Samuel Butler, “A chicken is simply an egg’s way of making another egg,” and ponder instead the question: Where does Hangzhou get all its eggs? In short: A chicken’s ass. For those of you, however, looking for a more detailed and possibly more accurate explanation, the following is for you.
We love eggs. Poached; scrambled, over-easy, hard-boiled, soft-boiled, artfully wrought into omelets, we are robustly and unrepentantly ovivorous. We consume close to two dozen eggs per-week (excluding those which were essential ingredients in our cakes and baked-goods), and we will be eating even more once we replace our broken blender and can churn half a dozen raw whites into a frothy morning protein drink. Every time the national and local hygiene secretariats announce yet another poultry holocaust, our hearts go out to the chickens, but our concerns, quite frankly, lie with the health of our egg-supply.
China is said to be home to more than 1 billion egg-laying hens – one hen per 1.3 people. That number is just under twice the sum of egg-laying hens in the USA (276) and the 15 EU member states (290) combined. We suspect that these sorts of censuses have formidable margins of error, but whatever the standard deviation that’s still a lot of feathered biomass.
Raising hens requires around four square feet of floor space per bird, while adults can comfortably roost together at one foot of perch-space each. Wing-to-wing, China’s hens lined-up on a single perch would stretch some 190,000 miles. It would wrap around the Earth, at the Equator, seven-and-a-half times. Allowing that your average chicken weighs in the vicinity of four pounds, China’s hens collectively weigh as much as 30,000 Boeing 747-200 jets. Mustered together at once they would occupy en mass nearly 36 square miles (93 sq/km). That’s an area larger than either Gongshu or Binjiang District. And note: that’s not the approximate size of a single theoretical chicken farm for all of China’s egg-laying hens; that’s just how much space would be occupied by the chickens themselves, standing in formation, cheek-by-fowl jowl. That’s a big brood.
China is also the planet’s largest producer of eggs. By one conservative estimate, China’s chickens crank-out over 20 million tons of eggs per annum. That seems like a lot, but worldwide McDonald’s alone uses an estimated eight million eggs every day. China is not yet a major exporter of eggs, and the annual domestic egg output is not the gargantuan sum it appears to be when one contemplates national consumption off eggs and egg-product in the production of other foodstuffs.
With Easter and therefore egg-related festivities marking the month of April, we thought we’d set-out on an egg-hunt of our own. After all, Hangzhou’s eggs have to come from somewhere, and if one-third of the urban population eats one egg per day, that’s two million eggs daily. If the average yield from each healthy hen is one egg every 24 hours, we’re talking about some two million laying-hens. Where are they?
Zhongtai Township (中泰乡) is a good deal west of the city, off of the Hangrui (G56) Expressway, about four klicks west and four klicks north of the Wuchaoshan National Forest Park. If you eyeball Zhongtai’s coordinates on Google Maps, it seems to share nearly the same exact latitude with the location of the Three Pools Mirroring the Moon scenic spot in West Lake, which is about 23 kilometers to the east. We set out from our offices before noon, driving down Tianmushan Road under skies as blue as they’re ever likely to get in this city, and traveled in the direction of Liuxia. By the time we were twenty minutes outside the Hangzhou metropolitan area, the landscape was one of sundrenched fields and buggy, rural air. Smooth paving gave way to rough tarmac, and by the time the highway had become a single-track road, Zhongtai Township was minutes away.
The township stretches across over 70 sq. km. and is home to around 24,000 souls. (Our hometown in New England is 90 sq. km. with a population of around 8,000.) Shuanglian Village (双联村) is one of the ten villages that make-up Zhongtai, and was where we were to look for the Yang family farm.
The Yangs are not commercial farmers. What produce they do turn into coin is sold to neighbors only. Their modest and homey patch of terra firma covers a little more than three acres (1.3 hectares), and is more than enough to sustain their menagerie of around 600 chickens, their small gaggle of geese and paddling of ducks. Their two strong-bodied dogs seem to enjoy their lives as much as any well-fed farm mutts would. Mr. Yang and his wife are well into their 60s, and are the sort of solid, good-natured, suntanned specimens of 21st century Chinese country folk that you could imagine being trotted out for the cameras every so often whenever officialdom wants to celebrate “the new countryside” or xinnongcun, or to publically reaffirm the nongqian shihou policy which translates into, “rural people come first, city-slickers next.” Like their dogs, the Yangs are hearty and hale, friendly, and seemingly not discontent with their earthly lot.
We were here to see the chickens and the eggs, and it was in the context of a few prefatory enquiries about these that we learned from Mr. Yang that he eats two eggs a day, sometimes five. When he mentioned (apropos of nothing except his daily egg-intake) that he takes a swig of baijiu every once a while, Mrs. Yang piped-up and volunteered that she is thinking about getting a cow or goat, so they can have fresh milk every day. This may or may not have been intended as a corrective to Mr. Yang’s confession about his yen for distilled sorghum, or as a prophylactic against possible wrong impressions, but just the same we told her we hope she gets her lactating ungulate soon.
The chickens here are free-range in the broadest sense of the term (just in case there is, in fact, any other sense of the term). They roam their mostly verdant estate as chickens do, now with Gallic aloof, now with aquiline purpose. One contingent galloops up and down a little hill, while by a stream, a small squad pecks at insects in the grass and dirt. Eventually, and proverbially, they will all come home to roost and lay eggs. The coops were as clean as a working coop can be, and if a hen can be said to be happy, the Yang’s hens must be among the happiest in the region.
Though the chickens adventitiously subsidize their protein-intake with worms and bugs, their fodder is a hand-tossed mélange of corn and soybean meal, and not a commercial mixed feed. The Yangs seem not to have set-out intentionally to raise organic fowl per se, and we were pleased they lacked the pretention to describe their farm or modest operations as green. They insisted no chemicals are ever added to the feed, and their hens are never injected with hormones or other drugs. With the return of the warmer weather, Mr. Yang says the hens will lay one egg every day. We think of the relevant biometrics, and wonder whether Mr. Yang is selling more than just a few of the over five hundred eggs per day his hens will yield for him. We hope so. The short tour of the premises leaves us hopeful that the Yang’s egg farm is the rule and not the exception; but whether it is or not, and whatever the final destination of his eggs, we’re hoping to leave with a small basketful. And we do.
Wholesale and market prices for eggs fluctuate like any other agricultural product, and have been known to spike sharply and suddenly, with month-on-month surges as high as 24%. In September of 2011 wholesale prices rocketed to nearly 10RMB per kilo. Counted as a non-staple food by China’s Ministry of Agriculture, wholesale egg prices were around 8RMB/kg at the end of 2013, and at the moment a kilo of run-of-the-mill eggs at the market ring-in at about 10RMB, though we’ve seen both higher and lower prices in at our local green grocer’s. Packaged by the dozen and sold in chain supermarkets, the price can be as high as 3 or 5RMB per egg. Getting street-level intel about whether, or to what extent, recent poultry-culls (etc.) have impacted retail prices at farmers’ cooperatives, or wholesale prices for street-vendors who make danbing (egg-pancakes), proved trickier than we expected.
For the past seven years, we’ve dropped anywhere between 10 and 30RMB per day at the Kedi downstairs from our flat, not infrequently tossing three one-yuan coins on the counter for a rubbery chayedan (“tea egg”) which had been stewing in heaven knows what for god knows how long. Staff are usually chatty and often initiate casual banter, but when we asked about how many eggs they sell each day, they retreated into their shells, and answered with a cool, dismissive buzhidao.
“You really have no idea?” We press.
“No idea.” We’re told.
“Ok. Well, about how many eggs do you cook?”
“How many do you put into the pot each day?”
“A rough guess.”
“Really. No idea. I don’t pay attention to that sort of thing.”
Fifty meters away was one of the city’s many danbing vendors. A round plastic basket on the surface of the cart held a dozen or so eggs, and as he didn’t appear particularly busy - sunning himself like a turtle - we had high hopes for an informative chat. We explained we were writing an article about eggs, and asked him how many eggs he goes through per day and this is what we got:
“Don’t know? Come on. Roughly how many?”
“Are you really telling me you have no idea how many eggs you use?”
“Well how many do you buy, roughly, every day?”
“So, you sell danbing for a living, and you don’t know how many eggs you use or sell?”
By lucky chance, another danbing vendor was just around the corner. Ms. Yan, a native of Guangxi Province, was standing behind her cart, which like nearly every such cart was black from heat and smoke and oil, and looked impossibly heavy and awkward for a woman of Ms. Yan’s proportions. Her child, a friendly and polite girl of seven or so, had just finished skipping rope, and was now sitting on the wall her mother was leaning against.
According to Ms. Yan, wholesale prices of the eggs she buys fluctuate, and it seemed to her there is always a correlation between chicken-culls and upticks in egg prices. She said that she uses around forty or fifty eggs per day, but we were disinclined to enquire as to the profitability of her venture, or to press her too much about materials-sourcing. A single danbing requires but one egg, and Ms. Yan’s danbing sell for four kuai each. (She charges 2RMB for her tea eggs.) After expenses, we reckon her sales of even 50 eggs cannot net her much more than 100RMB.
The sun was as bright, and the air as comfortable, as it was the day we visited the Yang family farm, but it paled in comparison to the warmth found in Ms. Yan’s tired, but not world-weary, smile. She stroked the back of her daughter’s head causally as we spoke. Her daughter split her time paying attention to us, her mother, and the frayed ends of the tattered jump-rope she was wringing and twisting with her little paws. Her smile, like her mother’s, was jumbo-sized, and her little teeth grade-A white. This is what a child raised on eggs looks like.
We couldn’t resist asking about the local authorities or chengguan. Were they a source of bother and aggravation for her. “No, no, not at all,” she said. “They know how hard this is – this work, raising my daughter. They know we all need to make money. They understand. No. Not a problem at all.”
We thanked her for her time, and sensing our imminent departure she insisted we take a tea-egg to try; and though we refused as politely and adamantly as one could, and fished furiously through our pockets for coin, she had scooped-up an egg with a ladle and plopped it into a baggie before our fingers could confirm the regrettable absence of a single yingbi. Though piping hot, we consumed the egg on the spot, expressing our gratitude and congratulating her on the egg’s rich savory taste.
She and her daughter sent us off with a smile, and for a moment our confidence in the local manifestation of humanity returned. One might even say it was resurrected. And in contemplating eggs in their seasonal context, perhaps that is exactly the right word.
Citing an anonymous source, the [Guangming Daily] paper outlined how the fakes were made: prepare a mould, then mix the right amounts of resin, starch, coagulant and pigments to make egg white. Sodium alginate, extracted from brown algae, gives the egg white the wanted viscosity. Then add the fake egg yolk, a different mix of resin and pigments. Once the proper shape is achieved, an amalgamate of paraffin wax, gypsum powder and calcium carbonate makes for a credible shell.
Time, Patrick Boehler, Patrick Boehler 6 November 2012
Inspired by the skills of martial artists Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan, 18-year old Tim Vukan and his friends were intrigued by this ancient art. After seeking guidance and training from Ving Tsun Gong Fu instructor Jan Hantelman, a connection was made for life. He shared with us stumbling across a tiny Chinese bookshop and discovering hundreds of books detailing the very art he loved. Intrigued by the images he found within the pages, he often went back to look around. It was here that he found the book that would change his life: Chinese Shaolin Kung Fu. Being the only book he found written in German, it became a part of him, attached to him day and night. After watching a live performance from the Shaolin monks in Hamburg he knew it was time…
After six years of intensive training and teaching in Hamburg and Münster, Tim took the plunge and moved to Dengfeng, Henan to practice directly at the source. Home to many academies and thousands of students, he chose to study at Wushu College where a little girl took him by surprise: “The best teacher I had was a nine-year old girl. She taught me high kicks and how to perform very difficult techniques. She taught me to be honest and kind to people.”
What was the most difficult part of your course?
The most difficult part was we had to train very hard every day no matter what condition our bodies were in. Training started at 5:30am and continued all day until 6-7pm. After three weeks of intensive training, I couldn’t walk up the stairs and suffered from heavy muscle tension pain in my legs. Once I was lying in bed, I felt calm and peaceful until the loud Chinese march music woke me up in the morning and it started all over again. This pain is necessary to understand your body. If you want to perform Shaolin Gong Fu and to reach a high level we must go further to feel what it means to have focus.
In Chinese there is a saying 先苦后甜, which means after hard and bitter work there will be sweetness. It means that we have to work hard if we want to achieve something. Everything we do is to gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and to learn how to control our body and our mind in different situations. Our body is sometimes weak. Learning Gong Fu is a way to train our minds to tell our body what to do and when to stop. I learnt jianchi 坚持 – it doesn’t matter if we fail or succeed, it is more important to go on. Our body and mind each have their own language and we are able to control our body with our mind. If there is a strong mind and a clear heart, there is a strong body. Many diseases are based on an imbalance of our body and our mind. If we stay focused in the moment, we can prevent illnesses and have a happier life! Gong Fu is a way to choose health and happiness in your life.
After Henan, Tim moved to Yangshuo, Guangxi province to continue with taiji quan classes. There he met a woman who was offering taiji sword lessons and became her student, learning taiji next to the Li river. She taught him many things like Chinese cooking and the art of bartering. He felt happiness getting to know a culture which he had always wanted to learn more about.
During his travels in 2004, he really enjoyed Hangzhou. Growing up in Hamburg, he was a part of nature. In Hangzhou, he found he could still have that in the beautiful mountains and bamboo forests surrounding the city. From the beginning of his martial arts career, he often came into contact with Chinese medicine. In 2005, he decided to start studying it. In ancient times, masters of Gong Fu were often also doctors of Chinese medicine – it was a natural progression. Zhejiang Chinese Medical University offered him a place.
We hear a lot about the pressure of education in China, did you feel a lot?
The Chinese education system can be very challenging for foreigners. First to master the language and then to get used to the way of teaching. Asking questions doesn’t have much space in classroom; it’s very different to the west. Chinese students are not used to communicating with their teachers, only listening to gain information. This caused a lot of pressure while studying. Preparing for a test required memorizing and repeating facts instead of putting the theory into our own words like back home. Every culture has its own specialties, especially when it comes to education. Now, I often meet young people in the clinic telling me about their life and study and that it made them sick. Young students are often overwhelmed with pressure. I start telling them my story, hoping to inspire them to find their own way to learn.
You’ve founded your own company, how has that been? Do you have good support?
I founded Wushan TCM, a Chinese medical network, with the goal to connect the east with the west and to offer Chinese medicine education to students and current practitioners. There are live webinars and recorded online courses about the theory and practice. I also arrange local treatments for foreigners with Chinese medicine and take care of the language translations and clinical arrangements. I work in cooperation with Chinese medical doctors whom I’ve met during my studies and practice over the past twelve years. I want to help people to come to China and to gain their individual experiences.
You’ve studied tai chi, TCM and lots of other ways of healing. What would you say is the best medicine?
In our modern times a practitioner has to have knowledge from both western and Chinese medicine to offer the patients the most accurate and suitable diagnosis and treatment. Even though western and Chinese medicine are very different from each other, they can be combined in many different ways. While western medicine is treating the illness, Chinese medicine is treating the symptoms of the patient and finding the source. An example of how they work in harmony would involve undergoing surgery for an external injury (western) followed by Chinese medicine to strengthen the patient help to recover in a more comprehensive way. Both medicines have their limitations and their benefits.
I won’t say that TCM is the best medicine. I believe Chinese medicine can help a lot of people, where western medicine cannot. Above all, the best medicine is when people take better care of themselves and gain more understanding of how we can keep healthy and prevent illness. It’s about our lifestyle, our emotions, our living and working environment, our family situation, our nutrition and so much more. I want people to gain more sensibility about their lives and what makes us ill.
What plans do you have for the future?
I would like to combine my life in China with the life in the west. At the moment, I am preparing the German natural license test to be allowed to work and to treat in Germany with Chinese medicine. In the future I want to offer more lectures, seminars and tours in Hangzhou and to give more students the great opportunity to learn from professional doctors. More and more foreigners are interested in coming to China to study TCM. I want to help them however I can. The world will become more connected. Let’s become a part of it!
Tim Vukan has been studying and practicing Chinese medicine for more than ten years at the Zhejiang Chinese Medical University in Hangzhou. He founded Wushan TCM in 2008 to connect Chinese medicine practitioners and students by offering Chinese medicine online courses and training tours to enable an authentic education in the theory and clinical field of Chinese health cultivation methods. To learn more, visit the website at www.wushantcm.com.
I first visited Georgetown, the capital city of Penang Island, Malaysia, in 2008. This was just before Georgetown gained Unesco World Heritage designation. I vividly recall the beauty of the decaying historical buildings dating back to the late 18th century British colonial rule. The multi-coloured shop houses with peeling paint stood stoically, telling countless stories of the centuries gone by.
In 1786, Britain established Georgetown to rival the Dutch trading port Malacca in a bid to gain control of the important trade routethrough the Straits of Malacca which connected Europe, the Middle East and India to the west with China, Southeast Asia and Japan to the east.Georgetown began attracting Chinese, Indian and Malaysian merchants and settlers. Each group broughtalong their language, food and religion making Georgetown a very special mix of cultures living together in harmony.
Georgetown’s Unesco World Heritage zone is a compact, easily manageable area that you can walk around in two to three hours. Start at the grand KapitanKeling mosque, built in 1801 by Indian Muslim settlers with its Mughal-style domes and Indian-Islamic minaret, from where the call to prayer can be heard five times a day.
Then wander around Little India with Bollywood music blaring from shops and colorful silk saris on display. Tantalizing skewers of tandoori meattempt you to stop and nibblewhile tables piled with samosas and Indian sweets are hard to resist.Then further to the north, near the coastline are the British colonial buildings that now house banks, western bars and restaurants.
Turn a corner and head towards the Chinese area with colourfulclan houses, temples and shops. Bustling hawker stalls line the streets, selling Penang’s famous street foods like CharKwayTeow, Chee Cheong Fun and HokkienMee. The Chinese community has roots from Hokkien, Cantonese and Hakka and they here are a linguistically talented bunch who easily switch between conversations in Cantonese, Mandarin, their own Chinese dialects, English and Malay.
By the time I visited in 2008, much of the historic area had fallen into disrepair. Then came the Unesco World Heritage designation breathingrenewed life to Georgetown and historic buildings were restored and converted into cafes and boutique hotels. Previously, Georgetown mainly offered budget guesthouses and one very top end hotel. Now, there’s a growing range of boutique heritage hotels for visitors to choose from.
Campbell House was one of the first boutique hotels to open in Georgetown, and work on converting the building into a hotel began even before the Unesco World Heritage listing was announced. The owners, wife and husband team Nardya Wray and Robert Dreon, both saw the potential in Georgetown and had faith in its future. Nardya has a personal history with Penang, having been born in Malaysia before moving to UK andthen often returning to Penang to visit family.
Robert and Nardya bring with them a wealth of knowledge and experience, both coming from successful careers in London’s luxury hospitality industry.The couple embarked on restoring the hundred-year-old corner shophouse, completely gutting the building down to the original beams and structure.Working tirelessly over three years, they lovingly restored the building and filled their dream hotel with antique furniture sourced from around the region.
Campbell House offers eleven suites, each with an individual character representing a different element of colonial Malaysia, such as the Colonial Room with a four poster bed or the Sari Room graced with a headboard made from sari silk.
The rooms are luxuriously appointed and feature modern fixtures and technologies like flat screen TV’s, Nespresso machines, chilly central air-con, rain head showersand newplumbing. You may be staying in a heritage hotel with antique furniture, but you will not lackfor any modern comforts.
Campbell House is located on Campbell Street, right in the heart of Georgetown and makes a great base for exploring the city. The next street over is LebuhChulia, one of the main roads of Georgetown, where you’ll find many bars and street food.
Leaving behind the chaotic colourfulstreetlife and stepping into the peaceful tranquility of Campbell House, the first thing you will notice is the lovely lemongrass scent. Then the friendly receptionist will get you checked-in and pull out a map to show you where to find the best food and attractions.
Respecting the original architecture, there are no elevators in this three story house, but the hotel staff will use a clever pulley system to get your luggage to the top floor. Smoking is not permitted indoors, but you can do so on the rooftop terrace.
As is the tradition in Malaysian houses, guests have to leave their shoes in the public area before proceeding upstairs to the rooms. This ensures that the living areas are immaculately clean and you get the warm feeling that you are an honoured guest in a private house. Each guest receives personalized attention and you can even make special requests for breakfast to suit your dietary needs. The library invites guests to lounge and chat with each other and we had many lively conversations with our fellow travelers there.
Rooms are cleaned twice a day, and atnight they will leave iced tea and some sweet treats in the fridge. The soft and fluffy king-sized feather-topped bed is so comfortable, there seems to be a magic spell around it because as soon as you lay down you almost immediately fall asleep.
Breakfastis served in their Italian restaurant from 8am-12pm, so guests can leisurely sleep in or go out for an early morning walk before temperatures get too hot and still have ample time to return and enjoy breakfast.The breakfast spread includes a basket of freshly baked bread, a selection of housemade jams like coconut, orange marmalade and pineapple, a large platter of fresh fruit and a choice of entrée such as Eggs Benedict or Welsh Rarebit.
Their Italian Restaurant, Il Bacaro, draws on Robert’s Italian roots and offers an alternative to local cuisine. As much as I love curries and fried noodles, sometimes you just crave a fine Italian meal. It’s become a trendy dining destination for travelers and locals alike.
Georgetown is a city you can come back to again and again and never grow tired of.The Unesco World Heritage designation came just in time to save many heritage buildings from demolition. Though developmentis bringing about changes, its soul and authenticity still remains, just a scratch beneath the surface. The introduction of a heritage hotel like Campbell House means you can now visit Georgetown and stay in style and comfort.
Campbell House is a World Luxury Hotel Award winner and is ranked #1 on TripAdvisor for B&Bs in Georgetown. Rooms range from 600-800RMB per night.Air Asia flies from Hangzhou to Penang, transferring in Kuala Lumpur.
The Hyatt Regency welcomes Raul Avendano, a 31-year-old chef from Chile, to “spice up” their restaurant and buffet. This South American hottie creates a flavor so refreshing it will whip your taste buds into shape and wake you up from a world of slumber. This talented chef started his career in the hotel business studying administration, but after one year he decided it wasn’t for him. He changed majors to be in the kitchen and everything fell into place.
“When I put on my uniform and take my knife, I feel different. I get this intense feeling, just taking the raw ingredients and transforming them to something incredible.”
Raul has been cooking in top hotels all over the world. After four years traveling in Mexico, he moved on to Macau to open a new branch of the Banyan Tree. He was also the chef in the pre-openings of Dubai’s exclusive beachfront bar and restaurant Zero Gravity and the Grand Hyatt Casino Hotel in the Bahamas.
His Mexican Flautas are a good place to start if you are unfamiliar with Latin cuisine. Succulent chicken breast cooked in a tomato base and wrapped in a crispy flour tortilla, topped with sour cream and fresh salad. Next, we tried the Pork Loin Roulade with onions, garlic, dried cranberries, nuts and apple sauce, pan seared and finished to perfection in the oven. This was served with roasted potatoes and a chorizo-like sausage. If that wasn’t tantalizing enough, the final surprise was the Green Lamb Chops marinated with lemon and served on a bed of creamy quinoa risotto that really got our tongues tingling! We managed to have a chat and find out ‘more’ about the man himself for all you readers of MORE Hangzhou.
So Raul, you have quite the resume! Can you tell us which of your experiences have been the most rewarding so far?
A great place for me to work was Dubai. It was challenging at first because of the religion and restrictions. In Chile, we like to cook with red wine and experiment with new ingredients and spices, but there I could not use alcohol or pork. But, the supply of fresh meats, vegetables and spices was endless and we had good contacts with the suppliers. In the end, I really honed in on other techniques and flavors. It was a memorable time.
We all know how difficult it is to get certain ingredients here. Why did you choose China?
The fascination came from when I was a kid, you know. Growing up, I loved the Chinese movies with Jackie Chan, and I was amazed by the different culture and, of course, the food! Then I worked Macau and I learnt so much! I thought “I’m here! I’ve done it.” China is a place that people from the west think they know until they arrive here and it all opens up. It’s a whole new world. After I left Macau and went back to South America, I thought… “Something is missing in this kitchen… the woks!” Working on a line with these tools and producing a different taste was incredible, and I am happy to be back working with a talented group of individuals.
What’s the greatest difficulty you have here?
It has to be the language. I’m learning slowly but it will take time. I always say “I have no problems, just challenges,” and because I have no problems, I have more time to find solutions. I love working in this team. To these chefs, it isn’t just a job, it’s their passion and that’s what make this food very special.
Where did your motivation come from? Did your mum cook at home?
Oh no, my love for cooking comes from my Dad’s side of the family. My aunt and my Grandmother, they have good taste. My teachers too, they really inspired me to do more. I hope the people in Hangzhou can be open to try new flavours and enjoy eating my food as much as I enjoy creating it.
If you would like to join the taste fiesta, then head down to the Hyatt Regency hotel for their Latin Festival which lasts until April 10th. The buffet, which includes the dishes we tried, will run you 348RMB from Sunday to Thursday and from Friday to Saturday 368RMB (both prices have a 15% service charge).
Raul is in the process of creating a whole new a la carte menu that will be available after the festival with other dishes of Latin taste to tease you too! For more information on this, go ahead and contact the hotel or pop by for a sneaky peak at Raul himself hard at work in Café at the Hyatt. Buen Provecho!
To be honest, this is not exactly how I saw my Saturday morning going. After a good deal of persuasion, I had given in and decided to come to CrossFit Qiantang to see what all the fuss was about. Standing in a room full of about twenty-five athletic-looking sorts limbering up, little did I know that I was about to experience what would be one of the more intense twenty minutes worth of exercise I had done in my life.
In the car on the way to the gym, after having signed up for the class, we found out what the WOD (workout of the day) was. That day it would begin with 150 Burpees, a movement which involves going from standing to lying, to standing and a jump to finish. Then, 100 Wall Balls, requiring you to throw a medicine ball to above a line high on the wall. These two exercises were to be completed as a team, shared and in rotation. The final part, 5x200 meters, would be an individual effort.
After stretching and warming up, we were put into teams of three, our team name placed on the board, thereby riling up the competitive spirit in each and every athlete present. As the countdown began from ten, the crowd erupted, and as the music got louder, the tempo in the room sky-rocketed and the anticipation became unbearable.
Then, the room exploded as the battle for supremacy began, each team pitted off against each other in an effort to achieve the best time. During the next twenty minutes, I found strength in me that I didn’t know existed as my team and trainers (and even the opposition!?) spurred me on to reach the finish line in as fast a time as possible.
So this was my experience of CrossFit, a way of working out that has taken countless countries by storm and is now rapidly spreading through the mainland of China. For a better explanation of what CrossFit actually is, I spoke with the founder of CrossFit Qiantang, The General. Summing up my experience perfectly he told me, “It’s all about stepping out of your comfort zone. CrossFit is fun, but at the same time it can be brutal because it pushes you to your limits. The purpose of CrossFit is to train at your threshold area, which means you need to push your margin out.”
What is CrossFit?
CrossFit has three core fundamentals: constant variation, functional movement and high intensity. The first, constant variation, aims to improve your overall fitness, offering new and completely different workouts each time, using muscles you never knew you had, in contrast to a more focused improvement that some sports or traditional gym training offer: “We want every single one of our athletes to have a great general, broad fitness, which means they are prepared for the unknown,” said The General. In addition, you only find out the WOD after having booked the class, so if it’s something you don’t like, there’s no backing out: “You have no idea what you are going to be doing that day, just like real life. Life is unpredictable... CrossFit is the same thing.”
Functional movement involves using non-artificial movement – many gym machines promote a movement that is not entirely natural, whereas functional movements are more daily-life based and can therefore be used more in everyday situations.
High intensity is fairly self-explanatory, the benefit being you can put in less time but get more benefit. Rather than spending countless hours on a treadmill, CrossFit can condense this into around fifteen or twenty minutes of actual workout time (not including warming up or down), and yet offers results to match and even surpass longer, less intense workouts.
Why do CrossFit?
Aside from obvious health benefits, the most valuable thing CrossFit can offer is community. Looking lost on my first time in the gym, I was warmly received by trainers and members alike, as they approached me to introduce themselves and confess their great love for CF. Jenny had been CF-ing for around six months and was quick to praise the social aspect CF offers. She’d been working out in traditional gyms for years, rarely meeting anyone new: “I would be next to a guy on a treadmill every week for five or six years and have no idea about his name or who he was. Coming to CrossFit, there is a real feeling of community; everyone is very friendly and a strong bond is formed.”
This bond can only serve to improve your workout input as when you are making that final push, those around you shouting your name are sources of admiration and inspiration, team members who want nothing more than to see you do that extra rep, sprint that last 100 meters. They expect nothing less than 100%, and that is exactly what you should give them.
Furthermore, CrossFit supports and encourages its members to leave their comfort zone behind and do things they never thought they were capable of. The General explained, “The vast majority of people in this world only want to do the things they can do well… we like to give you something that you’re not good at… just use four or five hours a week to do this and your life will change completely.” So rather than doing something which comes easily to you, something you’re used to and can handle with relative ease, why not improve yourself by doing something you’re terrible at. Makes sense, right?
Some go to church, others go to CrossFit
For most, CF is more than just a workout. It’s way of life, a way of thinking that seems to make people want more from themselves. For one member, Adriana, CF was the missing piece of the puzzle, and after discovering it, her life came together, leading her to quit her job and become a shareholder in the company. Like many of the members here, you too may find yourself starting a new chapter of your life. Discover a new you, meet new friends. There’s really no excuse, so go on down and meet the CrossFit Qiantang family.
Give it a shot
For those of you thinking of joining, the first step is to sign up for one of their trial classes, either on Saturdays at 10am or Wednesdays at 8pm. The Saturday morning class will include members, so you’ll have a chance to meet the whole gang, something I strongly recommend, whereas the Wednesday evening class will include prospective members only. Also, many different membership schemes are available depending on your availability, ranging from a one-off drop in fee to a five-times-weekly membership.
Etienne Jeanne, guitarist with gypsy jazz band Three of a Kind, has been living in China for almost ten years. His Russian bandmates are based in Paris which means he mostly gets to play with them when he returns to France in the summer. This year however they are recording a new project in April and are hoping to embark on a world tour next year. I asked Etienne some questions about the band and the musical genre of gypsy jazz.
How did you meet your bandmates?
The three of us met in Paris in 2002. I had just moved to Paris when I was 18 in order to start my career as a professional musician, and met Aliocha and Vladi separately while doing gigs in Paris. It was the beginning of the "gypsy jazz revival" at the time. They were performing in an old Russian cabaret every week. I went to jam with them and found we had a strong connection right away so we decided to form a band. We've remained friends ever since.
How do you define gypsy jazz?
Gypsy jazz is a musical genre developed by the late great Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli in the late 30's, on the initiative of Hugues Panassié and Charles Delauney who wanted to build and promote a unique type of European jazz. That is why the Hot Club de France were the first "strings only" jazz quintet ever, innovating jazz music with a totally new sound never recorded before.
Is gypsy jazz the hardest genre to play on guitar?
It definitely requires strong guitar skills to play gypsy jazz, but not only that. A certain knowledge about jazz and gypsy culture in general, and an acuity for improvisation are also important.
Do you think there is a large audience for this type of music?
There is undoubtedly a large audience for gypsy jazz as this type of music is getting more and more popular. When I started to play this music, it was kind of a geek thing known principally in France and a few countries around (England, Germany, Holland, Italy), and now there is a Hot Club in every major city in the world, such as San Francisco, and even in Beijing! This style of music is pleasing to the ear, non-aggressive, and visually strong as you can see guitar players and violin players going crazy on their instruments! Plus it involves the guitar, which is the most popular instrument in the world, so people tend to identify themselves with it even more, especially metal guitar players.
What's the best thing about playing to a live audience?
Two things; the reward of an intense practice at home for years when people are clapping their hands, and the freedom to re-arrange our tunes, improvise, and make people surprised with a brand new show each time. To record is to leave a trace in time, to play live is to feel carefree again.
Where's your favourite place to play in Hangzhou?
I personally like to play in JZ Club because the venue is well adapted for live performances. There are many other places in Hangzhou offering the possibility to watch live bands, but not enough in my opinion. That is why I still need to work in Shanghai regularly since there are more opportunities. Fingers crossed about more musicians coming to Hangzhou in the next few years.
Has Chinese music had any influence on the music that you play?
Chinese music had an influence on the way I write originals indeed, we also cover a few songs from the early 30's Shanghai jazz repertoire.
Which bands are you following at the moment?
In the field of gypsy jazz, there are a lot of good musicians upcoming from all around the world although I think this type of music is precisely the legacy of Django Reinhardt, and hasn't really improved yet. People tend to copy the "authentic gypsy style" too much instead of working on their own interior music, which I think wouldn't have been the wish of the creators of this revolutionary musical genre.
If you would like to see Three of a Kind playing live, you can check them out at the venues below.
April 2nd @ ABC Café (Starts at 7:30pm)
1/F, Changjian Mansion, 415 Huanxing Rd, Binjiang, 滨江环兴路415号长建大厦1楼
April 8th @ Amigo (Starts at 9pm)
8 Yugu Rd, 玉古路8号
April 17th @ JZ Hangzhou (Starts at 9:30pm)
6 Liuying Rd (Nanshan Rd) , 柳营路6号（靠南山路）
April 22nd @ Reggae bar (Starts at 10:30pm)
131 Xueyuan Rd, 学院路131号
April 23rd @ Schänke (Starts at 9:30pm)
Room -3 and 2-2, Building 32, Qingchunfang, Qingchun Rd, 庆春路青春坊32幢1-3室和2-2室