China, Part III: Double dipping.

To wrap this China series, we end with an encore story. Yes, we stuffed ourselves full of the greatest hits we had been dreaming of for months leading up to the trip (see the grey squares on the NINGBO card for a small sampling). Yes, we had our adventurous share of unfamiliar fare (I forgot to mention the waitress who took one look at Nick and asked in the local dialect, "Should we make him a steak?" which my parents quickly declined). But of all the amazing food we tried, we only repeated one restaurant the entire trip:

Officially "Hong Yuen Nan Men Hot Pot" (but better known by its short name, "Nan Men," or "South Gate" based on its location at the South Gate of Tian Tan in Beijing), this local gem is famous for its Mongolian lamb hot pot -- my parents had found it nearly ten years ago. Our first dinner in Beijing (not counting the late-night room service when we arrived the night before), we hopped in a taxi and Dad tentatively asked the driver, "Nan Men?" who replied with a big smile, thumbs-up and Mandarin even I could understand: "Nan Men is the best lamb hot pot around."

We arrived maybe an hour after opening (like amateurs) and had to wait in a bullpen of lined-up rows of chairs for what felt like eternity (but was probably more like 45 minutes). We were finally rewarded for our patience with a cozy, screened-off booth. Each table has its own gas hookup, and on top of the burner sits a copper pot with a central chimney (kind of like a bundt pan with a tall center, around which the ring-lid slides up and down). My parents said this is a remnant of back in the day when hot pot was simmered over coals which filled the chimney for maximum heated surface area:

The menus were somewhat like giant, reusable sushi menu cards: they were laminated, and you select your components with a grease pencil which gets wiped away for the next guest. The waitress came over and lit the burner with a deft flick of a match, and we placed our order.

Meanwhile, we enjoyed the table snacks:

But we quickly discovered that the only snack that really mattered were these perfectly roasted peanuts:

We had ordered enough food for about twelve people (there were four of us), starting with two types of lamb (one cut was fresh, another frozen) and beef; building on a giant platter of assorted mushrooms; tofu; followed by vegetables and noodles (both bean threads and wheat noodles).

Once the pot was hot, it was off to the races! Just dip a few seconds in the boiling brew...

...dab the prize in your personal bowl of tahini (swirled with a dot of what I think was cilantro paste and another of a mild chili paste)...then pop into your mouth and enjoy nirvana.

It was so cozy in our little booth, building flavors and memories in the copper pot. We sloshed happily home and were fueled to take on the rest of our final leg of the trip. Though we enjoyed amazing and special meals the nights after (the Imperial chef's tasting, ridiculous Peking duck), we had one "free space" the final night and unanimously opted to come back for a second visit.

THIS time we wasted no time -- nor stomach room -- and optimized based on our first experience:

• Arrive RIGHT at opening (we timed our exit from Tian Tan perfectly) -- we were the last group to be seated before guests were corralled into the bullpen, mooing unhappily
• Ignore other snacks and order more roasted peanuts
• Order fresh lamb only -- forget the beef and frozen lamb
• Order half the mushrooms
• Ask for a bit of salt for the end broth: at home, we do hot pot with broth, but there they used water with herbs and spices. This is more than sufficient for imparting good flavor to the dippables (especially with the tahini condiments), but just a touch of salt brought out all the amazing brewed flavor, and we drank every drop.

It was the perfect end to an amazing trip.

The South Gate of Tian Tan, or Nan Men:

*

When we were first planning our trip to Asia, my parents asked where we wanted to go -- at first we were interested in Japan, Singapore, and other places outside China in addition to the Motherland. Ultimately we focused on China, knowing that we could go other places on our own someday, but couldn't possibly experience the ancestral villages and less English-speaking parts of the country without my parents. We are so glad we made the choices we did -- between thousands of photos and over 40 pages of journal scribbles, we'll be savoring this one for a while.