While in Beijing, I briefly fantasized about taking the train to Qingdao. I knew little about the area, except that it is the home of the eponymous TsingTao beer. (Same name, different romanization system.) There was a beer festival going on, and for some reason, I imagined a malt-hued scene of splendor: TsingTao-branded palaces, wheat-colored fountains, doe-eyed promo models.

A tall, cold one. (all photos by Sam)

I never made it onto the train, opting for lazy afternoons of shopping in the tourist trap of Beijing’s Ya Xiu market. I dropped thousands of RMB thanks to ineffectual bargaining while my culture-shocked nerves were worn down to an irritable jelly. Thankfully, my second chance at travel — a stateside jaunt to Qingdao in the form of a meal at M&T in Flushing — was more pleasant.

My fellow food-loving friend Sam (who wrote about Chinese food and photographed a Seattle food tour) did his Flushing research, so we set off on a heatstroked Sunday to M&T (44-09 Kissena Blvd, (718) 539-4100) for some good eats. As we trekked past Main Street – way past Main Street – my strappy platform espadrilles cut into the lumps of battered flesh called feet.

I wished I were a 5 year old in a carseat. “Are we there yet?” I asked.

“Almost!” Sam replied, in his perpetually cheery kind of way.

We were greeted by the friendly proprietoress who, impressed by Sam’s ability to speak fluent Chinese (no one is ever impressed by my Chinese), helpfully suggested “比较传统青岛菜” (rather traditional Qingdao dishes).

Sam’s awesome pics of our meal after the jump.

The meal was not a spectacular one, but it was a satisfying one with a lot of seafood and an interesting use of spices.

Our free cold appetizer was julienned potato in chile sauce, the potato prepared so that it was all cool, crisp texture rather than flavor. I then ordered a TsingTao for the sake of it – I mean, how often can you order a Tsingtao in a restaurant with food from Tsingtao?

The first dish looked like giant, spicy oysters but turned out to be… squid heads?? They’re listed on the menu as Fish with Cumin and Hot Chili. Okk.

Ones that had been heavily seasoned with cumin. Many ultra-traditional Chinese dishes, like shark’s fin, bird’s nest, and abalone, are inherently flavorless and consumed only for their rare textures. This was an example of that: an unabashed display the Chinese love for texture. It had what the Chinese deem a “qq” kind of mouthfeel, a certain chewiness – plus a pleasant snap and give under the teeth. They were crunchy, kind of like cartilage.

While I enjoyed this squid dish, each bite was so seasoned and so textural that I couldn’t eat much of it.

Another dish the owner suggested was cold bean starch noodles with julienned zucchini and diced carrot, dressed in Chinkiang vinegar and cilantro. To use another Chinese food vocab word, it was very “shuang” – something silky, slithery, refreshing, good for a hot summer’s day. It reminded me a lot of my mother’s home cooking.

Same went for a very homestyle dish of stir fried tofu, eggs, greens, and miniature shrimp, which used humble ingredients and employed meat for flavor. This was the kind of thing you ate in a Chinese family’s kitchen over a bowl of white rice, CCTV humming in the background. Nothing showy or unexpected, just belly-filling and good.

A heavy hand with spice popped up again in fried shrimp, which deep fried a handful of Szechuan peppercorns for a uniquely aromatic, slightly citrus-floral flavor and numbing, sizzling effect. The brilliant orange color of the shrimp was set off with fiery-red chiles – more for show than heat.

Finally, the kitchen sent us fried taro cakes for dessert, which looked but did not taste burned. They were fine, filling. I didn’t get through much of the Tsingtao. I felt like much of the meal – particularly the bean starch noodles and the tofu/shrimp dish – could have just as easily been eaten at home, but for you, that could be part of the charm. There’s an off-the-beaten-path intimacy and warmth to it that’s unmistakeable.

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1. Flushing, Queens
2. My mother’s cooking
3. How to eat Flushing, Queens
4. A Culinary Day in Flushing, Some Political Protestors, and my Hairdresser
5. Toro Restaurant in Boston: Ken Oringer’s tapas