My Chinatown

Posted by Nostalgiaholic | on December 27, 2007

The moment I stepped off the bus, clutching my guide Crystal’s hand for dear life, I was doused in the alien cacophony of Toronto’s Chinatown.

The thing I remember the most vividly is the noise… Chinatown

The moment I stepped off the bus, clutching my guide Crystal’s hand for dear life, I was doused in the alien cacophony of Toronto’s Chinatown. People everywhere were laughing, yelling, hailing cabs, and bartering for street food. The singsong chatter of portable radios poured a constant stream of Cantonese from every storefront window.

It was crowded, loud, and for a small town honkey from no-where Ontario, it was a little overwhelming.It was 8:30 pm, and the sky was glowing a dark, damp blue. The streetlights, shaped like Chinese lanterns and flanked by red wrought-iron dragons, illuminated the sidewalks like stage lights.

This long strip of markets and restaurants was the main event from early in the morning to god-knows-when at night, every night. The sheer number of people fighting for space on the sidewalks made you feel like you were in downtown Hong Kong.

We ducked to the left, into a street market to get our bearings (her bearings actually, I was hopelessly unable to tell up from down). The smells were just as strange as the noise. Smokey, sweet, spicy, and foreign. Everything seemed to smell herbal, and almost… fermented…? Bizarre vegetables poured out onto the streets in bamboo baskets, Rows of unidentifiable herbs shone in glass jars under electric lights and tanks of live octopus and eels were proudly displayed just a few feet from the teaming sidewalks. For a couple bucks a scowling Chinese man in rubber boots and apron would appear and decapitate any form of sea life you wanted with an ancient chipped cleaver right there at his bloodstained little street-side stall. It was all so new and hypnotizing, I just stood and stared. But Crystal had more focus, and knew we were on a mission. With a jerk of her arm we were propelled back in the maelstrom of people before I could wipe the drool from my chin.
Chinatown

We were after Yum Cha, the ancient Chinese tradition of eating lotsa little morsels of food with tea late at night. We had just spent our afternoon of freedom from college studies in downtown Toronto, and when the concept of simultaneously shopping and eating was brought up, Crystal made a bee-line for Chinatown. Just about every Chinese restaurant did good food real late, the secret (or so Crystal informed me) was to find the perfect joint in which to enjoy our tea.

The House of Gourmet fit the bill perfectly in three ways :

First, the windows were lined with BBQ’ed animals in various stages of decapitation… awesome.
Second, the place was packed full of locals, not a single tourist (or even any non-Chinese) among ‘em. If you eat with the locals, you’re guaranteed an authentic experience (ie. one that won’t pander to inexperienced taste buds, so be afraid)
Third, the atmosphere inside was just as loud and electric as the streets outside. Bright Neon lights, lots of tables, lots of noise… kinda like eating in the middle of the stock exchange.

We nabbed a table, she placed an order or two, and I took a sip of this much talked about tea. It was deep, it was dark, it was musty… It was like drinking the earth itself.

“Pu-erh tea,” The waitress yelled over the noise, “Is good ah ? For eating late night, good for you… make you sleep well!” She slipped back into the chaotic dining room, and I slipped back into the warm embrace of the tea. Pour after pour, each little teacup only holding about an ounce of tea, but each one holding new mysteries to solve (and savour). Crystal and I talked and poured more tea, time seemed to evaporate. All that existed was this boisterous, brightly lit, collection of smiling faces and white tablecloths that we now belonged to.

Then the food arrived…

Like I said before, I had never really strayed too far from chicken soup and Wonder bread before this moment, and any Western-style Chinese food I’d ever eaten was usually bland, deep-fried, slathered in bottled sweet’n’sour sauce and accompanied by tasteless fortune cookies. But this food was colourful, alive with strange tastes and aromas, and wikkedly hot! Before I knew it, I was gorging on animals I’d only ever seen on The Abyss. Octopus, Squid, Eel, Cuttlefish, Crab, and land animals like pig, duck, and goose basted in shimmering Hoisin sauce and roasted into sublime, caramelized orgasams of flavour… Yeah it was that good… It was a revelation ! It was the reason I started to cook professionally.

We stayed so late we almost missed the last Go-Train back to the college. We were so stuffed we could hardly walk, and had to take a pit-stop in one of the nearby herbal shops to pick up some of that Pu-erh tea.

That was years ago, and check this out… I’ve still got the business card for the House of Gourmet that I snagged to remember the experience !

Chinatowns are everywhere, in most major cities, and sometimes in little-bity towns as well! They are self-contained worlds of noise, smells, tastes, and wonders. Dim Sum in the afternoons, shopping on a budget, hard-to-find herbs and ingredients, and if it’s anywhere near water, you’re pretty much assured of the freshest seafood in town. They gear-up at the crack of dawn, and don’t stop living and breathing they’re own brand of exotic excitement till everyone stumbles home fulla tea and dumplings.

So next time you and some friends have an afternoon to kill, hop the bus to Chinatown and indulge in all the East has to offer. Go on, make some memories… The tea’s on me !

Much Love…

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