Emperor's siew mai

One of the delights of dining in Beijing is the chance to sample food with a heritage so long it is only matched by the queues outside their restaurants. I know I have written of imperial food claims which cannot be proven. But Duyichu is one which is verifiable and certifiable - by the Chinese government no less. And if you are a good Singaporean, you know that governments don't lie.

But Duyichu is truly genuine stuff. The name itself says it all, giving the famous eatery a story which is really quite lovely. Duyichu, or 都一处 - which simply means A Place in the Capital - is a name given to the restaurant by the famous Qianlong Emperor (the dude below) of the Qing Dynasty.


Now, for those of you who are not familiar with imperial Chinese history, this is highly significant because emperors did not visit restaurants or fast food joints like presidents or prime ministers would today. Happily cloistered within the Forbidden City with their 3,000 concubines (lucky bastards!), they did not venture out to mingle with the ordinary folk like you. So how did Qianlong come to give this place a name?

The story went that he was heading back to Beijing after a visit to Tongzhou dressed in ordinary clothes (Qianlong loved to tour China incognito so that he could see the real country). When he reached the gates of Beijing, he was tired and wanted a place to eat and rest his half-dead horses. But it was late in the day and it was on the eve of the Chinese New Year. All shops were closed except for this shabby little place called Mr Wang's Tavern.

Nonetheless, the thirsty Son of Heaven went in and was charmed by the dishes whipped up by Mr Wang. When he subsequently revealed his identity to Mr Wang, the boss asked the Emperor to give him a better name for his restaurant. Qianlong said: "All shops are closed. Yours is the only place in the capital still opened. Let's just call it A Place in the Capital!"


That was not the end of the story. Qianlong, who must have been damn bloody free, went back to his palace, wrote out Duyichu in Chinese calligraphy, had eunuchs mounted it on a signboard and delivered it to Mr Wang.

Okay seriously, this is like big shit. Don't think this is just like a Singapore hawker happily posing with Kym Ng at her stall and showing off that picture. This is way way way bigger. This is like striking massive lottery and knowing that the next 10 generations of your family can smoke opium, shoot marbles or play catching AND still be rolling in riches. It is that big.

That was 1738. Yes my friends, it's nearly three centuries ago. And guess what, Duyichu is still rolling in riches!! Milking Qianlong's visit till today - and seriously, they will be dumb not to - his sculptures were prominently displayed at the entrance and the story was repeated on the menu, the posters on the wall and even the paper wrapper they used for the chopsticks. The line outside the restaurant is almost perpetually there - even in winter. The waitress in charge of the queue seemed to get a kick out of telling desperate customers like me that even after getting in, you had to wait at least 40 minutes for your food. Bloody Qianlong.


For some reason, Duyichu came to be known for its siew mai, which has been labelled a national heritage by the Chinese government. (PS: I will continue my work to do likewise for laksa, chwee kueh, chicken rice and maggi mee goreng). Even the lamps in the restaurant were shaped like siew mais (see below). Haha. While Singaporeans are used to the Cantonese variant of siew mai with shrimps and pork, Duyichu served a variety of fillings and the siew mai itself was done quite differently from what you would get from dim sum restaurants around the world.


The Cantonese siew mai is small and yellowish, while the Beijing variant is big and white with the top bunched up like a flower. My suggestion is to go for the Assorted Basket (32 yuan), which is 10 siew mai of five different fillings - pork with scalllion; pork with sea cucumber and shrimps; lamb; vegetarian; and shrimps with leek. It allowed me to sample as wide a variety of the siew mais as possible. To be honest, I prefer the Cantonese-styled siew mais. It is cuter and more exquisite.


That is not to say that Duyichu was a disappointment. The pan-fried pork floss (12 yuan), which came in sticks, was surprisingly good. I have never had pork floss deep fried before. The starchy bowl of sauteed pork livers (8 yuan) was yummy too. But the best, of course, must be a dish which Mr Qianlong had on that fateful 1738 day. Named "Qianlong Cabbage", it is a cold dish with peanut sesame paste drenched over the cabbage, adding a sprinkle of vinegar. It was wonderful. Truly good enough for an Emperor.


As befits the status of Duyichu, it is now located at Qianmen (literally "Front Door"), which is one of Beijing's oldest areas as well as the traditional gate to enter the imperial city proper back in Qianlong's days.


Located south of the Tiananmen Square, Qianmen main street has been converted into a horrendously fake tourist wonderland, looking more like Disneyland Main Street than an authentic ancient Beijing street. That's modernity in Beijing, where heritage usually gives way to headless commercialism. I don't have a problem with them remaking a place to keep it modern, relevant and hygienic. But this effort is a joke. Check out the dumb ass big bird cages which lined the street.


So enjoy the joke of a scene while you queue up at Duyichu (10-6702-1555), which does not take reservations. Too bad, you are not an emperor.