Happy New Year!
The whole club was in a great mood. A fun mix of Chinese, Non, gay, straight, smoking and non, all whooping it up. There were a coupla stages that folks would hop up on to dance, but then there were also beauteous dancers with real breasts, that felt brazilian rather than vegas. The uncanny thing was that there seemed to be the exact right amount of people--comfortably crowded but not packed. There was not a wait for the loo the first 3 times I went, then around 2 or 3, it started getting crowded. The drinks were new year's prices, but Nic was slick to drink some down and ask the bartender in Chinese to add more vodka--lo and behold they do! God bless the double obedience bred by confucianism and communism. Or the hypnotic effect of a charming white dude speaking Chinese. Or both.
Daniel is Mr. Fabulous. His smile warms the heart and his wit is super hip. He is so not the typical Chinese--aka, he knows how to have fun. Lord knows the Chinese are fastidious and industrious at everything they do, but having fun requires a cool, savoir faire of non-care, and Daniel is open and funny and, well, FABULOUS!
Nic reminds me of my pal Moises in that he laughts just a little bit too loud...but that just makes me feel at home. On the way home, the taxi driver wanted to stiff him cuz he's a foreigner and Nic had an argument in Chinese--why are you so impolite? To which the driver said: why are you so implite? To which Nic says: I am a guest in your taxi and you are so impolite. To which the driver replied: why are you so impolite? To which Nic said: Hurry. Move forward. Go! A few more rounds of that including a triple jacking-up of the price. But we get home regular.
Something about the reverie in the gold snow won't let any cranky taxi cramp an evening.
New Year's Day was clear and unfussy and bode well for the rest of the year. It was a completely free day of recalling the revelry and open to the possibilities of the coming year. My resolution: astute articulation of China to the U.S., and the U.S. to China; of the world to the self, of the self to the world.
That's his wife Lucy on his left (my godfather Paul Chow's sister, which makes her my godaunt?--sounds French) and his son Hengle on his right. They kind of remind me of a Sartre No Exit situation, the part where there is commentary of what is being said, while it's being said--strong personalities who have lived through all of China's recent historical stages tend to be fiery this way. It's a dynamic that I absolutely treasure and learn from. Here they are in front of their apartment in the French Concession, just down the street from the Anting Villa.
I just can't resist Dr. Ding. I sit behind him in the taxi admire his ear muffs.
Today's special: Clear stir-fried shrimp. Our New Year meal continues with tender kidney flower (one of my favorites that my pops used to cook for guests), dou miao (pea sprouts, also tender) minced pork wrapped in bean curd, special shanghai chicken, and a really, really succulent flounder, steamed with ginger and scallions. There were also wontons and a puff-pastry radish dumpling.
Labels: new year's in shanghai