Fun with dining advertorials

The crazy thing about my job as a City Weekend intern is that I’m often given tasks that my title really shouldn’t allow. Like take over a dining advertorial that another freelancer dropped. Thankfully, it was a pretty straightforward job  – set up photo shoots with two chefs and their signature dishes through their PR people, make sure the photos were uniform and attractive, then write the blurbs.

The Langham, a boutique hotel near People’s Square, did a very nice lunch before the photoshoot. Witness:

Appetizer…

Here’s the chef’s signature dish – a pan seared turbot with vanilla (the stuff on top), dark chocolate, and eggplant puree. An interesting flavor pairing that worked.

A white chocolate mousse made with olive oil rather than cream, and with some tomato embedded inside, since tomato and olive oil is the classic Italian pairing.

Then the next day was the Hyatt’s chef, this time, no three course lunch, but some amazing views from their restaurant:

Here’s my favorite photographer, Mao Dou, who is really a big sweetheart and a great food photographer.

The main event: rolled veal carpaccio stuffed with goat cheese, side salad of artichoke, red onion, pea shoots, hazelnut dressing. Very fresh, simple, delicious.

Here’s the chef getting test shots taken. He eventually agreed to wearing a hat, but before giving me a heart attack when he refused at first. He hammed it up nicely for the camera.

Now, I’ve gotten the copy written up, talked to the designer, and I’m extra excited for it to appear in the next issue of City Weekend. Yay! If you’re in Shanghai, be sure to pick up the most recent copy of the magazine with the “expat evolution” cover – there are tons things I wrote in it.

Now, for a cultural aside,

Also, just for good measure, this is the proper way to wear your backpack to ward of sticky-fingered thieves in China.

The problems I have with China are usually these frustrating moments when the bus driver starts driving away as I have one foot on to board – and is blatantly apathetic to my rage. Or when I realize I’ve gotten ripped off since I’m not well versed on what things are supposed to cost here. Or like this morning, when I hailed a motorcycle cab, agreed to a price before I got in, then the driver suddenly jacked the price up 2 yuan. I tried to negotiate down a yuan, but he angrily demanded his full 6 yuan. Finally, we ended up in a screaming match, where I finally relinquished the last, pathetic yuan he demanded.

I was overcome by my linguistic paralysis – I know next to no curse words in Mandarin.

And well, a yuan is all of 15 cents USD.

I guess, despite my unpleasant experiences and daily near-deaths from aggressive traffic (no such thing as pedestrian right of way here), I’m lucky that I can afford to get ripped off a few dozen yuan and never really feel the pain. But that doesn’t make me resent that motorcab driver any less.