Zhāngqiū 章丘, CHINA – Before I came to China I imagined stone homes, earthen pots, bamboo steam baskets, and tiered rice fields scaling into the clouds. Two and a half years ago, I arrived in Shanghai where I indulged in street food and began Mandarin classes then two months later settled in Běijīng and watched the cranes build the city upward in lieu of the Běijīng 2008 Olympics. Within both cities old homes crumbled and shopping malls were erected. Everywhere I wandered, food was abundant at 6RMB for a bowl of noodles to a roasted duck at 188RMB. Many friends and relatives have passed through Běijīng giving me the pleasure of taking them to my favorite restaurants and through markets laden with produce rivaling California. Still something more organic and homely was missing. These past two weeks I found it in the generosity of families who invite me into their homes to share their favorite family recipes.

Sometimes, I am suspicious of generosity. I don’t know where this feeling originates but six hours from Běijīng into the home of Mapei’s family in Zhāngqiū, my skepticism melts with every meal. The evening my team and I arrive, Mapei and her father, Ma Shushu, whisk us away to a restaurant and introduce us to her mother, aunt, and uncle. Ma Shushu raises his glass every three minutes throughout the meal, toasting our new friendship. Our feast never allows our plates to stay empty and Shandong’s Tsingtao flows freely.

Mapei’s family brought us to their home where bananas, nectarines, and melons were offered to us daily. Each night her parents retired elsewhere, giving my team their beds then returning each morning to prepare our breakfast of warm soy milk (Doujiang), Youtiao (deep dried dough sticks), duck eggs (Yadan), and other savory sides.

It’s Monday and after breakfast Mapei tours us through Baimai Springs, Zhāngqiū’s park once the residence of the female Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. At ten o’clock we return home where Ma Shushu and her mother Song Ayi are prepping the vegetables. I asked for 2-3 family favorite dishes, but today’s menu will feature eight dishes and a soup! At home, I complain that only one of my two stove top burners is operational but there is no stove in their kitchen. Ma Shushu, my culinary leader and comrade of the day blanches, tosses, fries, and boils all nine dishes on two electric pots, alternating them as Song Ayi washes one for the next dish.

Typically, Mapei’s family eats 2-3 dishes per meal, but her parents wish for us to experience more dishes during our short stay. Ma Shushu remembered my love for the Xiangguji Tang (Shitake Mushroom and Chicken Soup) from the night before and taught me how to make it using a whole organic chicken, from the comb to its claws.

Amongst the dishes he prepared were Sweet and Sour Carp, Sea Cucumber sauteed with Green Onion, and Shandong’s famous clams sauteed with green onion, garlic, and chili pepper. I learned that most dishes in China are cooked with all or two of the trio, Cōng Jiāng Suàn (葱姜蒜; green onion, ginger, and garlic).

Throughout the meal, Ma Shushu asks me questions regarding life in the United States. He assumes life for Americans is improving with President Obama at the helm. He wonders if it is possible for my husband of Chinese heritage to get along smoothly with myself of Filipino and Danish American background. I reply, “Dangran!” Of course! The evening’s conversation vanquishes cultural assumptions to the best of our ability and we are one meal closer to world peace. After our sumptuous meal, complete with multiple Tsingtao beer toasts, we are asked to “Xiushi, xiushi!” Rest, rest! The lunch floors us harder than any Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever had so we don’t protest.

I wake up at six in the evening and walk into the kitchen. Song Ayi greets me with a silver mixing bowl of pork marinating in soy sauce, ginger, garlic, five spice powder, and salt. At the cutting board are finely chopped Jiucai (chives) which she adds to the meat and stirs for our Shuijiao (dumpling) filling. She explains how to make the dough we will use for the dumpling skin (Jiaozi Pi) but pulls out a bowl of kneaded dough she has set aside to mature for three hours. She muscles the dough on a flour dusted board, kneading to strengthen it for wrapping. She gives me a 1″ dowel so that I have my turn at rolling out dumpling skins; it becomes fun as I develop a rhythm.

The guys in the ShowShanti team wake up from their nap and join for the fun part, pinching together the dumplings [Watch the video]. Including Mapei’s family members, we are six circling the the dining table, making dumplings together as a family. I am happy.

We are stuffed for the third time in one day. After fruit and tea in the living room, we all retire to rest for our morning drive into the country where another family feast awaits.

Popularity: 20% [?]