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- May 15, 13
Since I don’t have a car or ride a bike, and since investing in a pass for the month would be worthless (I’ll be out of town in a few weeks), I’ve been pretty much keeping to the immediate neighborhood, which is great. Tempelhof, the former airport turned beloved gigantic city park, is only about a 10-minute walk away, as are numerous grocery shops and convenience stores and cheap food options. There’s even a third wave coffeeshop for aspiring connoisseurs like yours truly.
But this morning, as the sunlight fought its way through rather dark bedroom drapes, and I woke to birdsong (I know, right?), I had a funny thought: Get out of the house!
For readers both old and new, you’re probably familiar with my struggles with “being down” (and not the cool way.) Experiencing what was apparently the longest winter in nearly half a century and a wonky start to spring doesn’t really help, either. That said, I’m probably not the only one who wants to do cartwheels once the sun comes out of hiding.
Different folks have different ways of maximizing their time outside. I’m quite fond of walks—sometimes aimless, sometimes not. When I have loads of time (as I do these days) and am in the mood, I also prefer to meander. In the process, I discover pieces of the city that I only glimpse when in a vehicle. Of course, I’m also saying this as someone who takes pictures of just about everything.
Today I had the brilliant idea of starting my day at Two and Two. I know: I was just there a few days ago. What can I say? It was a love at first bite.
From there, I began my regular route towards Karl-Marx-Strasse. Below I’ve made you a handy map with notes about sites to be found along the way:
Walkability, I think, is one of my favorite aspects about living in the city. It’s so antithetical to how I grew up; we used to drive to the grocery store that was (and still is) a 15-minute walk on foot. I was bemused when my mom commended my efforts to walk to the then-new health food store a few blocks away the last time I was in town. There I was, thinking it necessary because neither my mom nor I drive. Walking also just made sense. This store, like the other, was in the general vicinity.
Maybe neither of us walked in, or throughout, the neighborhood because it was missing the critical masaya factor. In Filipino, masaya literally means happy; our neighborhood wasn’t. You hardly saw people, and when you did, it was either through their car windows, or on weekends, when they set the sprinklers on for their lawns, or took care of their gardens. There wasn’t anyone simply “hanging out,” even on their front porches (for houses so equipped), even in the nearby park. It was always pristine, and quiet, and for my mom, the very opposite of masaya.
It would be great if my mom could come to Berlin and take a stroll around my neighborhood. I think she would be amazed at how masaya it is: people casually peering from their balconies, enjoying çay and köfte, people with leopard-print leggings and leggings with holes in them, and people with babies, dogs on leashes, bicyclists, and rollerbladers, and skateboarders, and cars, too. And people, like me, walking, and walking.
Tagged: flânerie, neukölln, walking - May 13, 13
Since I hardly wrote about my favorite places in Beijing while I was actually there, now’s as good a time as any…
My travel research always seems to focus on two things: (1) spaces for interesting exhibits and (2) food. By necessity—and only later, out of pleasure—I’ve slowly learned how to cook at home, and I wasn’t too worried about exploring the grocery options in Beijing. I was spoiled even, finding as I did an apartment only a stone’s throw away from the Central Business District and gigantic shopping centers and international schools. This meant fellow foreigners, which also meant grocery chains featuring common Western foodstuffs like ketchup, Nutella, and camembert (albeit at inflated prices).
I often braved the crowds at a Walmart-sized Carrefour, and get a bit embarrassed by not being able to reply to the aisle attendants extolling the virtues of X laundry detergent or Y instant coffee. I took free samples of candy when they had some and admired the vast produce and meat section that replicated the environment of the outdoor market. I followed suit and scooped a half-kilo worth of rice into a plastic bag, ordered fried dough balls, bought a pack of chrysanthemum tea. And I would lug my goods up across the pedestrian footbridge and back home, past the hawkers of sunglasses and fake leather wallets and plastic toys, pat myself on the back.
A princely sum by Chinese standards, the salary I received as an English teacher would’ve allowed me, if I’d wanted, to eat out everyday. Had I also further developed in my language skills and were generally less inhibited (about these skills, dining alone, etc.), I believe that I wouldn’t have frequented the grocery store as much.
Then again, I rather like the routine. Laugh all you want, but I liked passing as an adult, looking serious as I considered prices between similar items and passing over chocolate cookies, no matter how cute its packaging was. This implied that I had to be confident in my choices, as well as its consequences. As I’m not the best of chefs, I was glad to be living alone, without anyone else being subject to my sometimes suspect culinary efforts. I can more or less deal with them; I’m not so sure about others.
During the few occassions I received overseas visitors, I made sure that we mainly ate out. I wasn’t just ashamed of my own cooking; I also wanted to emphasize that they were guests. And with all guests, I wanted to show them a place that I could vouch for, because it doesn’t make much sense to do otherwise.
So we would go to Baihe Vegetarian, within the Second Ring Road.
Unless you live in the neighborhood or have a car, Baihe is a little bit of a pain to get to. It’s located in a small hutong (lane) in between the Dongzhimen and Beixinqiao subway stops, and then a 10-15 minute walk from either, then down a typically gray, industrial-looking side street.
But once you’re in, you’re in. If you haven’t arrived during the lunch rush, you will be politely led through the front library to available seating in the charmingly renovated siheyuan (courtyard).
As the menus have English translations and vivid images of Chinese-staples-turned-vegetarian, I’ve had no problem ordering merely by approximating phonemes as well as pointing.
There were many things I’d never eaten prior to moving to Beijing, bamboo shoots being one of them.
Baihe’s offerings are also suitable for vegans, with an expansive and imaginative selection of mock meats (including Peking duck). Although the peppercorn “chicken” basket looks nothing like chicken (I’m glad it doesn’t, actually), I highly recommend it, and apparently had enough room in my tummy to somehow always top it off with a side of mushroom jiaozi (dumplings). The former had just the right amount of zing—for this rather mild foreigner palate, that is—which was offset by the tenderness of the latter.
Perhaps you’re not a particular fan of mock meats and may be disappointed by Baihe’s emphasis on this. Commenting on the “pure” vegetable dishes on the menu, a fellow customer at an adjacent table said that he could “make this at home,” and I only half-doubted him. (At the very least, Baihe doesn’t use any MSG.) If the selection of actual vegetables is lacking according to non-vegetarian, health-conscious clientele, the service may at times also be hit-and-miss. The servers can be that discreet, to point of having to track them down to ask them for another tea. My own experiences, however, have been nothing but comfortable, though this may also be due to the fact that I’d go when it was slow.
It should be no surprise, then, that one of my last meals out in town was at this restaurant, with pretty much the same exact meal I’d ordered on previous occasions. Who knew that I would love what is essentially spicy breaded tofu so much, that I would make a day of it? Should you find yourself vege(tari)an(-curious) in Beijing, why not stop by Baihe?
Baihe Vegetarian Restaurant
23 Caoyuan Hutong, Dongcheng District
Mo-Su 12-15; 18-22
(map)
Tagged: food, groceries, restaurants, vegetarian
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Aranjuez
