Most afternoons, Jake and I come from work and go straight to one store to pick up ingredients for dinner. Prior to our extended stay in China, I don't think either of us appreciated the extent to which we had been spoiled by the convenience and variety of our local supermarket. We had anticipated challenges, of course, but finding cool produce and refrigerated food was not one of them. Apart from some major shopping complexes in the bigger cities, most
grocery stores in China were the antithesis of the bright, cool bastions of greenery and freshness to which we are so accustomed. For starters, the entrances to many establishments were not doorways, but openings adorned with giant strips of plastic fettuccine-like strips. The lighting was often yellowish and there was usually no air-conditioning on the premises. Although meat and vegetables could be found, they were usually processed and preserved in jars, tins or plastic bags. There were no eggs, few or no dairy products, and absolutely no prepared foods such as sandwiches or salads. Though many drinks were available, they were almost always room temperature, save for a small selection in a lonely ice-box. What's more, the temperature inside most refrigerators was barely cooler than the air on a summer night.
We quickly realized that most people were buying their fresh food from stands and green grocers on the sidewalk, their (still unrefrigerated) meat from butchers on the corner. While it was easy enough to buy curbside bananas, we never quite got used to the lukewarm soda and water. Another thing we learned about the Chinese way of food shopping was that it incorporated a great deal of dry goods. There were dozens of shops
(below, on the street in Hong Kong) stocked with dehydrated ingredients in every city and small town we visited. The most easily identifiable items were mushrooms, nuts, fruits and spices. Shark's fin
(picture above right, in a soup from Tao Tao Ju, Guangzhou ), a regional delicacy, was also in abundant supply.
Our trip to China is not the only reason I have cheongsam on the brain. The traditional silky silhouette is one of the stars in Kate Moss's new Asian-inspired collection for Topshop. I believe the early 90's was the last time this dress shape was trendy in the West, so perhaps it has been long enough to call it comeback. I was not expecting to see so many iterations of the style in MLC this summer. I assumed that its inextricable link to the Western image of a Chinese woman was the residue of an antiquated stereotype that bore little resemblance to modern fashion. In fact, we saw it all over the country. The majority of the wearers, however, were little girls. As for the older crowd, I would venture to say that nearly every female citizen over the age of 16 owns a some variation of the internationally overplayed boho maxi skirt.
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