Lâu

My Pre-intermediates (as I affectionately call them) decided to take me out for dinner last night as a pre-Têt celebration.
Têt (which should have another diacritic above it, but my keyboard isn't that special) is the lunar New Year (or Chinese New Year as it is generally known in the West, probably to the consternation of other Asian nations). This happens in just under 2 weeks and is a public holiday. Hurrah.

So, after some discussion in the preceding weeks, it was decided to go for "hotpot" *. I've had various thoughts about Hotpot or "Lâu" since I was told of its existence some nine years ago by my lovely Chinese students back in the UK. I've wanted to try it, but in the right place. And obviously with the right people: it is not a solo dish, or at least I thought this was the case, as you share a big pot of hot stock with your fellow dinners and cook your food in it together. This requires a certain amount of mutual understanding and trust, to my mind.

As it was decided on my behalf that Hotpot was what was to be had, I happily went along having images of being sat cross-legged on the floor around a big steaming communal pot, trying not to eat anybody's bit of Thit Bò (beef) and looking directly out over Truc Bach lake.
It was much better. But not as earthy, and possibly lacking in some of the romantic charm that existed in my imagined version. But it was great and saved any possible problems caused by the fact that I've stopped eating meat** and am a bit clumsy sometimes with my chopsticks, having been known to throw mushrooms all over the table when not paying attention...
The restaurant was, well firstly, a restaurant with tables and indoors and everything. We sat on the top floor, overlooking Truc Bach lake (I got that bit right, just not the height), at a modern wooden table which had individual pot-heaters! We got presented with a plate each of random gubbins consisting mainly of mushrooms and vegetables, but also some tofu***, dumplings (meat), sausage and pig fat.
Then we could choose what source of protein we wanted to submerge in the bubbling stock in front of us. I went for salmon - from Sapa, apparently. Nice and, as I was cooking it, was exactly right.
It was a whole interactive and entertaining way to eat, which also seemed to me to be the definition of slow food. You choose your ingredients, you cook them and you eat them. It sounds simple, but this sequence of events makes you focus entirely on what you're eating which is the best way to do it, in my opinion.
The company was pleasant and I was looked after. I was also forbidden from paying anything, which is standard practice, if a little frustrating. I'll return the favour in some way, I'm sure.

It's nice to be teaching adults again.



* note to English folk: this has NOTHING to do with Lancashire hot pot
**this happened in December. I don't know how long it's going to last, and I eat fish. I'm not calling myself a vegetarian, or even a "pesky-tarian" (as a canadian friend calls it) because I'm not - I am just unwilling, for health and lack of knowledge as to the origin of the meat in this country, to eat meat at the moment. It may change any time. It may not. But I'm not going to label myself as having that lifestyle, when I'm not entirely sure that I do.
 My students reacted with a shocked look, akin to the reaction I would expect if I'd told them I had a terminal disease, and asked "but..... why?"...
***Also being avoided after a massive hormonal upset due to replacing meat and dairy with soy products at the beginning of the year. Really - it's not good for you in those quantities.