Belly belly warm

Summer is here and Beijing is so bloody hot that I almost wish for winter to return. When such moronic thoughts enter my mind, I know I am close to a heat stroke as the mercury approaches 39 degrees celsius.

In times of such unbearable sauna, I look to the locals to find ways to get used to the heat. Here's what I have learnt.

One, roll your T-shirt up to your chest, revealing your belly. Ladies can try it too. I have seen young Beijing chicks doing it. Sexy, right?


Two, do not switch on the air-conditioner. That's what most Beijing taxi drivers do. Some people tell me it's because they want to save petrol. I don't believe them. I think the cabbies are just trying to help me get used to the Beijing heat.


Three, embrace the heat and dine al fresco. All of a sudden, the pavements of Beijing are filled with tables spilling out of restaurants. Just three months ago, if someone told me to go for al fresco dining here, I would probably tell them to go suck my thermometer. But now, wow, it is like no one is eating indoors anymore.

To fit in, I decided to have drinks outdoors the other day at Fez Bar (10-6559-6266), a chic watering hole at the historic Legation Quarter. If the place was charming and serene in the day, it was also charming and serene at night.


The bar takes on a Moroccan theme, which means that I have absolutely no idea what it means. But there were a few tents and some days beds, giving some sort of Arabian flavour. Set on the third floor, the bar offered a nice view of the peaceful Legation Quarter, especially on a quiet warm summer weeknight. Enjoy the view!

Five-star dim sum

Ask someone in Singapore for the best dim sum in town and chances are, they will point you to a couple of top-end hotels - Goodwood Park and Shangri-La. Now ask someone in Beijing for the best dim sum in town and they will say "Comfort Inn". What? Comfort what? This is just wrong. Three-star hotels are not supposed to have five-star restaurants.

But such is the peculiarity of the food scene here that you get good stuff in places least expected, especially for those establishments which have been around for a long time. You have yummylicious Hainanese Chicken Rice at Hard Rock Cafe, so I guess top notch dim sum at Comfort Inn should not be that shocking.

Still, I approached Comfort Inn last Sunday with quite a bit of hungry skepticism. Perhaps it was good donkey years ago when Beijing had more carts than cars, when desperate expats gratefully lapped up anything? But is it still "the best", as claimed by some longtime Beijing Singaporeans?

It is. Pure and simple. Victory hands down. Call off the contest. The Golden Tripod Attic is like S-League compared to the Comfort's English Premier League standards. The dim sum at this place is out of this world and into the next.

The hotel's restaurant, which was first set up in Guangdong province, is actually named Kaiyue. But what the heck, let's just call it Comfort Inn. It's easier. And as you can tell from the pics below, the restaurant is really quite comfortable. Lots of private rooms to choose from.


We ordered a bunch of dim sum, which is really the best way to enjoy the Cantonese delight. And every basket or plate that was served met the salivating approval of me and my friends.


Carrot cake, sliced into little and almost symmetrical cubes, crispy edges, tender insides.


Chee cheong fun, cut into short sticks with a skin so thin it was translucent.


Siew mai and har kow, steamed to perfection, juicy and not oily, allowing you to savour the freshness of the shrimps.

Lo mai kai, killer. Absolute killer. It was so good it was unreal. The glutinous rice so soft that the slightest touch with your chopsticks cut apart the rectangular delight. Slices of shiitake mushrooms and pork belly within. Awesome.


Only the char siew bao (in the background) was not world class. It was still good, but I thought the buns could have been softer and more fluffier.


But as with any place which is popular with Singaporeans, you know it's because there's something free. At Comfort Inn (10-8523-6668), you get free fruits and .... 豆花! (How do you translate that? Bean curd jelly? Any suggestions?) Sorry for this blurry pic. A stupid auntie started scooping furiously when I was about to snap.


Budget about 70 yuan per person. Quite a cheap price to pay for the best dim sum in town.

Bird bird yakitori

I really should apologise for not posting in the last few weeks. But I'm not going to. The Chinese government should be the one saying sorry. Those dicksters bloody hell banned Blogspot recently, making it damn troublesome for me to access my blog, not to mention post on it. So my legions of fans here in Beijing, I'm afraid you won't be able to check out The Forbidden Stomach for some time. Let's hope those dicksters lift the ban soon.

Enough complaining. Let's talk about something happy - Tori Tei, a Japanese yakitori restaurant. Its Chinese name is 鸟亭, which literally means Bird Pavilion. I know it may be childish, but somehow, I find it a really funny name. No self-respecting restaurant in Singapore would be caught dead with "bird" as its name. I think it has something to do with the fact that the Hokkien phrase for "penis" sounds just like the Hokkien word for "bird". So back home, it is quite common for parents, especially those from my parents' generation, to refer to a young boy's missile as "bird bird" (yes, in English!).


Not that I would ever try to tell the Tori Tei boss to change the name. Given how good the business is, I doubt he would really care if his restaurant reminds a cock Singaporean of penis. Check out the packed house.


I have been to Tori Tei three times and this tiny hut was always packed - usually with lots of Japanese men. That, as always, is the surest sign that this joint meets the high standards of the Japanese. You don't see a lot of Japanese at Yoshinoya, do you?

With the BBQ-ing done just next to the tables, smoke truly does get in your eyes if you are seated rather near the pit. But the smoke, the cosiness of the eatery, the loud chattering by the Japanese execs make the restaurant special. In the company of fellow white-collared workers knocking back whiskey and beer, it is the perfect place to unwind after a long day in the office.


The best way to enjoy Tori Tei, in my opinion, is to order a whole variety of yakitori in one go, some bottles of Asahi or Kirin (only 15 yuan per bottle!) and just sit back and enjoy the evening. I would highly recommend the chicken wings (my favouritest), sliced pork belly, chicken balls (tsukune), chicken liver and also the mackerel - superbly well done with a crispy skin and tender meat. But to be honest, everything is good. If you are adventurous, go for the chicken cartilage (nankotsu) too.


I have never ordered any of the noodles or rice, but if you are an old grandmother who must have your carbo, the gyoza is lovely. And rest assured that the ramen is good stuff too. Tori Tei belongs to the same boss as Original Come House (remember??), and you can have your choice of Miso Ramen etc. Isn't this place wonderful?


Budget about 70 yuan per person, including alcohol. For top-notch yakitori, it is a steal. It is not easy to find the place so here's the number 10-6461-4513 to call for directions. Be sure to make a reservation too. But if you really can't get a seat, go to the adjacent Original Come House and order the yakitori from there. The name is just as funny, but it won't be half as fun.

The perfect dish

Think of a dish which pretty much has everything that you want in food. In other words, if you have to choose a last meal and there is only going to be one dish served, what would it be? I know mine. It's a Korean dish called Budae Jigae.

If you have never heard of it, you need help. It is the best. Let me tell you the story behind the dish first. Budae Jigae means "army stew" and the name came about because of the Korean War. Meat was scarce and grateful South Koreans lapped up the spam given to them by the American soldiers. They threw the spam into a spicy hotpot with kimchi as its soup base, and Budae Jigae was born!


Today, a lot more than spam is added into the stew. There are sausages, ham, salami and even instant noodles. Why do I like it? Because it is spicy, sour, warm, and it has instant noodles and spam! What's there not to like? It's just awesome. It's luncheon meat spicy noodles. The PERFECT dish.


Many people asked me after I blogged about Dear Leader's babes what is the difference between South and North Korean dishes. I think the best answer is Budae Jigae. It is the one dish that the North definitely does not serve - not surprising if you think about how the dish came about.

Anyway, since I arrived in Beijing, I have been desperately trying to find a restaurant that serves it and does it well. Hit a couple of places, but no luck. One night recently, I decided to try Suraon, which has been getting good reviews. It is clearly a restaurant with one of the prettiest exterior designs. Check out this mini Water Cube lookalike.


The interior was surprisingly boring, with most of the space carved out into plenty of private dining rooms. But once I saw Budae Jigae listed on the menu, I didn't give a shit if they had shit painted on the walls. I have found my perfect dish in Beijing!


There were other dishes and the steamed egg, I must say, was soft and fluffy, quite delicious. But frankly, I didn't care much about the other dishes or the myriad of complementary side dishes. Budae Jigae, Budae Jigae!


In some other restaurants where I have had this dish, they usually just cook the food right at the table, somewhat like a steamboat except that all the cooking is done for you. But at Suraon (10-8456-8008), they cooked it by the side and was going to serve it into bowls when I stopped the waitress and asked her to just bring the entire pot to the table. I prefer to see my favourite dish bubbling along as I attacked the spam and ramen.

It was, of course, lovely. Spicy, sour and with instant noodles. I can die happy now. How much was it? I have no idea. Money is not an issue when you are talking about your last meal.

Hard Rock chicken

There are only five types of people who still go to the Hard Rock Cafe in Beijing.


1) Losers who still think that Hard Rock T-shirts are cool.

2) Clueless tourists staying at the adjacent Sheraton who have no idea where to grab a decent bite in Beijing.

3) Prostitutes.

4) Men looking for prostitutes.

5) Singaporeans.

Yes, I am not kidding. There really are a lot of prostitutes in the Beijing Hard Rock. In fact, it is a well-known fact of the city. Need hookers? Go Hard Rock - at night, preferably after 10pm. A reliable source told me that there are so many ladies of the night that the restaurant should be renamed Hard Cock Cafe.


As for Singaporeans, that is the other weird bit about the Beijing HRC, and the reason why I was there earlier this evening (contrary to what you may think, I do not belong to Category 4). Besides being well-known for its hookers and mud pie, the Hard Rock here is also famous for its Hainanese Chicken Rice. It is the most bizarre of things, I know. But not long after arriving in Beijing and hunting desperately for good Singapore hawker fare, someone told me that the Hard Rock Cafe is the place to go for chicken rice. I went: "What? Hard Rock? Chicken Rice? Don't bluff." But veteran Singaporeans here verified it and since then whenever I told other Singapore friends of this chickadee nugget, they went: "What? Hard Rock? Chicken Rice? Don't bluff."


Apparently, when the Beijing Hard Rock was opened in 1994, they had a Singaporean chef and he introduced Hainanese Chicken Rice, Singapore style, to the rockers. I had to find out if the dish still sits there in the Dynasty of Rock and so tonight, I gathered two Singapore friends and headed down memory lane.


I was there early and quickly checked the menu. Holy chickens, there it was! Right next to Seafood Spaghetti and sharing pride of place with New York Strip Steak was the Hainanese Chicken Rice! My goodness, maybe Elvis really is alive.

And although the poor waiter shot us funny looks because we asked for metal forks and spoons, it really was quite an enjoyable meal. Presented like the "high-end" chicken rice served in Singapore hotels at 10 times the price of hawker centres, it came as a set, with a soup, a tray of chicken and even a tray of fried bean curd. The wait staff even asked beforehand if we wanted breast or leg meat. They have obviously been well trained on the finer points of Hainanese Chicken Rice.


The meat was rather tender, although if you compare it to the Kees of Singapore (you know, Boon Tong Kee, Wee Nam Kee et al), then of course, it was at least a notch below. But the rice was fragrant and not soggy like how most Beijing rice is served. The chilli was also authentic, although I would have preferred it to be a little spicier. At 79 yuan, it was expensive. But it beats the other chicken rice I have tried so far in the Chinese capital.


It was, as my friend Pat said, a rather "surreal" experience to be eating Hainanese Chicken Rice in a Hard Rock. Glance up from the table and there was Janet Jackson's blue silk blouse. The music videos showed Patty Smyth and New Order. The band played Creedence's Susie Q. It was time to leave. We had finished our chicken rice. And the hookers were about to take over their turf.

Quarter of peace

I have a feeling we are not in Beijing anymore.

Beautiful isn't it? It sure doesn't look like the Chinese capital. Clear blue skies, beautiful Spring sunshine and the lovely scent of manicured lawn. A jazz band playing to a tiny crowd. Kids running around, their parents' SUVs parked neatly by Western colonial buildings. It could have been a scene from any university towns in the US. But it is Beijing. In fact, it is right next to the heart of the city - the Tiananmen Square.

Named the Legation Quarter, this place can be best described to Singaporeans as Beijing's Chijmes. But it is far quieter, more exclusive and with a richer history. So named because it used to house embassies of Western powers in the last days of the Qing Dynasty, much of it was destroyed and vandalised because of the Cultural Revolution and Beijing's development. What's left is the former premises of the American Embassy and it now hosts restaurants and bars.


The top draw among the restaurants is Maison Boulud (10-6559-9200) - a Michelin-rated French restaurant by celebrity Manhattan chef Daniel Boulud. Located in a two-story European building with high ceilings and a grand double staircase, it screams high end from top to bottom. And since the closest I had been to a Michelin was when watching F1, it seemed about time for me to embrace the culinary tyre man.


I chose Sunday brunch. Because it was cheap. It was 98 yuan for a course, 158 for two and 208 for three. If you order four, it would be 238, but no one should be eating that much so don't be a greedy bastard and go for four courses. Anyway, it's a reasonable rate for a chef who once served President Barack Obama. Yes, as you can tell, I am so bragging. Have you had what Obama had? No? So there. Shuddup. It is not "Yes We Can". It is "Yes I Can".


The brunch got off to a good start with a lovely selection of pastries and danish, delightfully laid out on the table with flowers, slabs of butter and apple sauce among others.


The Fettucini Carbonara with poached yolk and black pepper pork belly was not too creamy, and with the yolk mixing in the pasta, it had a nice eggy stickiness.


But the real winner is the signature DB (named after the chef, not Donkey Balls) burger, which came with a thick layer of patty complete with pieces of foie gras. The accompanying fries were heavenly. I also had a bite of the Lamb on Ciabatta, with mayonnaise and some brown special sauce over the thin and soft slices of lamb.


Tribute must also be given to the service staff. Attentive, but not obsequious. Poised, but not arrogant. They earned every cent of the service charge. They go perfectly with Maison Boulud's classic early 20th century design.


But for Legation Quarter, the events of early 20th century have evidently still not passed it by. When I was leaving the compound, I noticed that the name "Legation Quarter" has been scratched out, leaving only "Qianmen 23" (its new name). After some research, I found out that the management has done away with the historic name - likely as a result of pressure from the government. The original Legation Quarter has remained a sore place for some Chinese, who see it as a sign of foreign aggression. The Western powers established the quarter after hammering the Qing government and they enjoyed extra-territorial rights in the complex. It is still regarded as a humiliating episode for many Chinese today.


It's yet another disappointing instance of unnecessary and overbearing Chinese nationalism. Shanghai's French Concession is still called the French Concession. I certainly don't see the Shanghainese moping around feeling humiliated. Isn't it a stronger nationalist statement that these places which once banned the natives are now still bearing the same name, but owned and patronised by Chinese?