Last weekend I took a whirlwind trip through Guangzhou to see a friend. I was grateful for the excuse, since it’s the last very large Chinese city that I’ve yet to visit, and an increasingly gaping hole my map of Chinese places traveled to (yes, I have made such a map).
Before my departure, a colleague who had recently traveled there disparaged Guangzhou as a has-been. It had been among the first big Chinese cities to start developing in the early days of reform, and in its heyday in the early 2000s, it stood as a symbol of China’s success, a glittering metropolitan gateway through which the products of the world’s factory floor were sold off to foreign lands. A decade later, Guangzhou is still a shoo-in as one of China’s top-tier cities, but one could contest the sheen has come off a bit as Beijing and Shanghai have strode onto the world stage, and countless other inland cities have seized the development momentum that was once Guangzhou’s birthright. The colleague said that Guangzhou’s buildings themselves radiated a sense of being past their prime – cheap, ugly, tile-clad structures that must have made quite an impression in the 80s and 90s when China was emerging from poverty, but now which look worn and tacky and stink of mildew.
That’s all very dire, but I was more concerned about the food. I’ve had a difficult relationship with Cantonese food (of which Guangzhou is arguably the capital). Yes, dim sum can make for a lovely brunch, but by it’s hit and miss by its very nature – you have to order that many little baskets to make sure you get something you like. As for the rest of the Cantonese culinary canon, I can only charitably describe it as artfully bland. Clearly an intense (and pricey) effort has gone into cooking dishes and arranging them on plates in ways that are aesthetically pleasing, but that makes the act of eating all the more disappointing, since the results are usually as impoverished of flavor as the plates are rich in appearance. I I’m a Louisiana native and I lived for a year in Sichuan – I like my flavors spicy, intense, and ideally with a little painful – you know, to build character. The best tastes are strong – if the sensation of trying a new dish doesn’t resemble a brass-knuckled fist emerging from the plate and punching you in the face, then the calories probably aren’t worth the trouble. That’s the problem with Cantonese food – it’s more akin to a velvet glove stroking you on the cheek. Some people call these flavors clean, delicate, subtle – I call it hogwash. Subtlety is for Terence Malick films. Food has no excuse for being tasteless.
But then again, I’ve never actually eaten any Cantonese food in its homeland of Guangdong. Would Guangzhou show me the real stuff and change my mind? I had 44 hours and six meals to find out.
Let’s get on to the photos. My friend lives in this neighborhood, next to the giant building on the right.
This is Guangzhou’s Zhujiang New City. As far as new Central Business Districts go (and heavens I have seen a lot of them in my work and travels), this one is pretty huge. Maybe Guangzhou sensed it was falling behind and is trying to catch up? The spire in the back is a TV tower that used to be the highest in the world, until it was displaced by another one in Tokyo last year. That had to sting. Somewhere in the middle of all these skyscrapers sits the U.S. Consulate of Guangzhou – word has it the State Department got a primo deal on the land parcel before the city decided to build the new CBD around it. It felt like the only building for miles that wasn’t over twenty stories tall. At least the Chinese people will have some shade while they are waiting in line for their visa interviews. Anyway, Zhujiang New City had a more lived-in feel than the most parts of Shanghai’s Pudong or other cities’ new downtowns (which often feel empty and antiseptic), so score one to Guangzhou there.
It was my friend’s last weekend in Guangzhou before his consulate tour ended and he returned to the States. Thus the introduction he gave me to the city was also a farewell tour for himself. He promised to take me to a range of his all-time favorite restaurants. My pulse quickened – surely after two years he had stumbled onto some winning Cantonese food? I’d have to wait until lunch to find out, since breakfast was in a Western-style cafe serving gelato and dainty interpretations on American and Italian foods (western food does not sell in China unless it is made to look as dainty as possible). I ordered the only type of pancakes that came without ice cream. They arrived in a stack of three that were as many inches in circumference, and drenched in chocolate sauce. Oh well.
We went to Guangzhou’s fanciest mall where I checked out one of China’s best-known bookstores. It was immensely better-designed, better-lit, and overall more welcoming than the stodgy old Xinhua bookstores that you find everywhere else. People in China love to browse and read in bookstores as much as we do – it was good to see a big bookstore finally cater to this desire. In addition to books, they also sold clothes, and for some reason had architectural displays everywhere. They were less intrusive than Nook booths.
Meal 2 of 6 was in a Burger King where we fled to escape Guangzhou’s daily afternoon soaking. My friend moaned about Guangzhou’s awful weather, but I found it a great reprieve from The Inferno Shanghai. In fact I was in love with the Guangzhou summer the moment I stepped off the plane and did not experience that all-to-familiar column of boiling, sulfrous air that greets me whenever I go outside in Shanghai. The menacing gray clouds and rain that dominated most of my two days there were also a welcome change from Shanghai’s tauntingly blue skies and evil sun. Score another point to Guangzhou.
Guangzhou’s Burger Kings put mustard on their Whoppers, whereas the ones in Shanghai (at least in the airport) do not even stock mustard. Yet another point to Guangzhou. It’s really racking them up.
Meal 3 of 6 was dinner at my friend’s favorite Turkish restaurant. I ordered grilled lamb served on a bed of yogurt. As it turns out, those are two great tastes that go great together. I ordered a glass of mint lemonade made with real mint. It was so strong I had to cut it about four times with water before I could swallow.
We tried to have a quiet evening enjoying drinks atop Guanzhou’s tallest building (the one on the right of the first picture), but every seat in the top-floor bar was reserved. I did take a few photos before leaving:
On the way back down to the lobby, we encountered one of the most obnoxious, spoiled children we had ever seen in the elevator. He was infuriated that the seats in the bar were reserved, and was hurling himself at the elevator doors and screaming “But I saw there were open seats!” while his mother tried to restrain him. He stopped the doors from closing for a half dozen times or so. After they finally shut, we endured a supremely awkward 99 floors of silence as the elevator descended and his mother tried to indulge and calm him down. He was probably only 10 or so – what business did he have in the bar anyway?
Day 2 began with us sleeping in and rushing to get a start to the day. Meal 4 of 6 was whatever we could find at the nearest 7-11. For me this turned out to be a Slurpee, which I’d never seen in China before. Does Shanghai have Slurpees? If not, score another point to Guangzhou.
We spent most of the second day in the western part of Guangzhou, where most of the city’s older neighborhoods are located. We saw the old colonial district, full of stately European buildings that gave off a faint whiff of the French Quarter. I was distracted from the charming architecture by the surprising number of Chinese tourists wearing American flag fashion. The stars and stripes were every where – on T-shirts, shorts, jeans, bags, even shoes. When did this trend start? And why would it become a trend now when studies show Chinese people trust Americans less than ever?
Meal 5 of 6 was in the colonial neighborhood just up the street from the old US consulate building. It was in a restaurant called Lucy’s where my friend used to eat many times a week. Legend has it that the restaurant emerged to cater to adoptive American parents who were stuck in the neighborhood waiting for paperwork to process so they could take their adopted Chinese children back home. It serves comfort food like burgers and PB&Js, though I took a walk on the wild side and ordered chicken fried rice. Bad decision. At first I thought they forgot the chicken, until the waitress helpfully pointed out several Baco Bit-sized flecks of white meat that were virtually indistinguishable from the rice grains.
We chatted in the restaurant for nearly two hours while waiting for the afternoon’s downpour to subside, then ventured out, then fled into a Starbucks to avoid round two of the downpour. The Starbucks was in a renovated colonial building with some really lovely tile floors and a huge balcony with chairs and tables. A nice place to watch the rain. I was really impressed with the design of various retail spaces in Guangzhou.
After the rain finally ended, we walked back towards Zhujiang New Town through some of west Guangzhou’s oldest neighborhoods. Real grimy places – this must be part of the reason some would say Guangzhou is past its prime. But even then there were a lot of interesting, atmospheric alleys to explore. Albeit a few with poor drainage:
And a couple more, sans flooding:
We got back to my friend’s apartment just in time for me to pack up and head to the airport. There was no time for meal 6 of 6. I asked my friend why he hadn’t taken me out for a classic Cantonese meal. His response: “I lived here for two years and I still can’t stand that stuff. No taste at all.” So much for having my mind changed. Culinary penalty to Guangzhou.
Dispatches from the Paradise of Adventurers 