Stinky Tofu Takes the Cake

As someone well versed in how to spend a Saturday morning and afternoon, the very best days always include peeking into alleyways, investigating closed doors and eating as much street food as possible. Our darling second grade Chinese teacher Lily took it upon herself to take a group loud American teachers to the nearby Confucius Temple district for a Saturday of doing just that.

We all got up pretty early to meet Lily at Qinhuai; from our school it was over an hour on the metro, but well worth it. The walk through the neighborhoods to get to the area near the Confucius Temple were just waking up, riddled with tiny steam-filled alleyways, bike mechanics and towering apartments, windows slung with laundry still drying from yesterday's wash. Where we met Lily was gorgeous – even though most buildings were little shops or eateries, they all subscribe to the same style of gorgeous architecture. A massive gate towers above the whole main street, casting a shadow over the still sleeping store fronts. The streets were quiet when we first arrived; old men played Chinese Chess on tables while a handful of "early birds" noshed on skewered foodstuffs.

Lily brought her husband and darling son along for the ride, and we started our day. Lily wanted us to taste the local food of Nanjing; we started out with sugar syrup covered fruit on sticks, then sesame seed covered pastries filled with a salty and oniony paste that flaked all over your shoes and onto the mossed covered cobbled streets. Both were big hits. We spent time in between courses wandering the alleyways that shot off from the main drag, poking into stores completely dedicated to pandas or tea ceremonies before stopping at another vendor to test out another goodie. Some were more successful than others; I'm into tasting the local culture, but stinky tofu is not my cup of tea. The wildly popular snack looks harmless enough, yet was able to pack quite the punch in the smell and texture department. I didn't mind the spicy vinegar atop the slightly crunchy exterior, but minded the uncomfortably chewy texture and aroma. As far as the strangest thing I think I've put in my mouth, I think stinky tofu takes the cake. 

A group of 13 loud Americans certainly drew a crowd, so it wasn't too long before a group of feathered-hack-sack-playing locals invited us to pay and get a picture, or a man stopped us to sing some Adele, complete with custom lyrics. We admired the Ming Wall for a spell before snagging an early lunch consisting of very traditional dishes. While the salted duck wasn't too dissimilar from cold Thanksgiving turkey, and I adore bao zi (steamed soup dumplings), the duck blood soup is one that I don't think I'll order again...but I tried it. Lily also ordered sweet taro root in a sticky saccharine sauce, and another similarily sweet dish that consisted of soft balls of rice swimming in a thick and cloyingly sweet sauce. As if that wasn't enough food, we snagged a stack of guotie (potstickers) and then had this strangely textured type of noodles I think were made out of beans. It was sort of like a cold slaw topped with fresh chopped garlic and some vinegary sauce that packed a punch. Lily knew right when to take us to the most popular restaurants; the little pastry bakery we began our morning with was quickly swarming with people, dozens and dozens of hungry breakfasters were waiting in a queue that was quickly snaking down the now busting alleyways, wrapping around the tiny stops. People were walking around with bags bursting full, slightly opaque with the steam of the warmed pastries. After tasting them warm, I don't blame them; I've made plans to bring a smallish wagon with me and cart the lot back to my apartment. 

While an afternoon of nibbling, it's difficult to pluck a specific moment to title as my favorite, however, there was a man pouring the most incredible sugar drawings of Chinese characters and Chinese zodiac signs is an obvious favorite. Due to the fact that I'm into any sort of sugared novelty item, and it being the year of the monkey and I am also a monkey and the fact that I'm in China in the zodiac year I was born made it irresistible. Sugared versions of your zodiac sign? Yes, please. 

Shortly after, we said our goodbyes to Lily, then took a bus adventure to the Confucius temple. By bus adventure, I mean we have no idea how the buses work (yet) so we boarded and found out you need exact change or you don't get your 10 yuan note back. We weren't sure what stop to get off of so we made a guess. There is an oddly liberating aspect of traveling in China and not being able to read a single character. 

It means you get to stumble on unintended adventures because you have no idea what you are ordering or buying tickets for. Hannah and myself thought this garden place looked neat, thinking it was an entrance to the Confucius Temple and ended up being serendipitously incorrect. 

We happened to find a delightfully beautiful garden behind the entrance gates. Everything is starting to bloom which meant gorgeous white and pink blooms framed pagodas which framed waterfalls and various ponds. I can't wait until the blossoms are in full swing on campus and all over Nanjing. We happily joined the small kids climbing over rocks to find hidden alcoves and hopped over rocks to check out the other side of the jade green pond while vividly orange  orange fish bobbed to the surface for crumbs.  It also felt nice to be out in nature after spending so much in the city, taking the metro, and gazing up at the skyscrapers at Xinjiekou.Additionally, it was lovely place to be bombarded by an entire tour group of middle aged Asian men who each wanted an individual photo of Hannah and myself. What happens to those photos, I haven't the slightest, but it didn't get uncomfortable until we were still being photographed after a solid 5-7 minutes. It was a quiet park, nestled in a bustling city and a delightful finish to an afternoon of noshing.