Guangzhou came and went so quickly that it felt like we blinked and suddenly, it was already time to leave. We woke up earlier than usual this morning for our last breakfast and meal before taking the train to go back to Hong Kong for one night tonight. I got to indulge in my last breakfast buffet of dim sum delights like nuo mi ji (sticky rice with chicken and mushrooms, wrapped in fragrant lotus leaves), nai huang bao (hot egg custard buns), and decorated congee. I also had my last fresh sweet soy milk in Guangdong while dipping a you tiao (fried cruller) stick into it. Hot, fresh, sweet soy milk and a you tiao stick are extremely nostalgic for me, as they always remind me of my early morning walks alone around East China Normal University in Shanghai that summer of 2006, grabbing an early breakfast off street vendor carts and taking in all the chaos and fun of a new country. At that time of my life, I had never left the U.S.; that experience was my very first experience of China, as well as the world outside the U.S. Growing up, I enjoyed sweet soy milk as a stand-alone drink when my mom would buy it fresh from a local market. But we never dipped you tiao stick into them. Instead, when my mom or grandma would buy freshly fried you tiao sticks from a Chinese bakery, they would snip them into bite sized pieces. We’d then toss them into jook/congee for extra indulgence and extra texture/crunch. This seemed to be the Cantonese way of enjoying you tiao sticks. Well, I embrace every which way of eating you tiao sticks as well as drinking freshly pressed soybean milk, so I definitely do not discriminate.

When we originally left Hong Kong on Wednesday to arrive in Guangzhou, the biggest differences I felt immediately were:

1. Less signs and/or no descriptions in English or even pinyin at times
2. Squat toilets were the majority; seated toilets were the minority (if any) in a given restroom); most public restrooms here, unless at a nicer establishment, did not even have soap or toilet paper
3. Cashless payments via WeChat or Alipay in Guangzhou only; virtually no cash, whereas in Hong Kong, endless businesses are cash-only
4. More Mandarin Chinese spoken in Guangzhou predictably, but still a good amount of Cantonese spoken
5. No Uber in Guangzhou; we used DiDi

So goodbye to squat toilets for us heading back to Hong Kong, and hello to more English and spoken Cantonese!

After we checked into our hotel, we went out and about again on the MTR, this time to Tsim Sha Shui (or Jian Sha Ju in Mandarin) on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong. We stopped at Cheung Hing Lee, a popular spot for Shanghainese sheng jian bao (fried, thicker skinned soup dumplings) at the recommendation of my friend who lived in Hong Kong for about nine months. The baos were exactly as advertised: thin skinned, super crispy bottoms, lots of clear, clean flavored broth that literally squirted out of the bao with each bite, and tender, fatty, tasty pork inside. And afterwards, we slithered our way into the Haiphong Road Temporary Food Market just a few minutes walk away, where we ate at Tak Fat (De Fa) Beef Ball stall, in what is now a semi dai pai dong.

Dai pai dong is an open-air food stall, and a term that was created in Hong Kong. In Cantonese, the name refers to “big license stall,” and they were historically tucked into alleys, next to buildings and on streets. What makes them fun, delicious, and nostalgic for many Hong Kongers is not only their cheap prices, but the “wok hei” flavor in many of the dishes offered, which were quick to come out and be devoured. In the late 20th century, the Hong Kong government started restricting the operations of dai pai dong to remove them from public streets; there were concerns around hygiene and sanitation. Given all this, many relocated into indoor cooked food markets that the government built, or they shut down altogether. The experience of eating in one, even a “semi” dai pai dong like Haiphong Road Temporary Food Market, feels fun, lively, chaotic, boisterous, and reminds many people of the old-school Hong Kong days when this was pretty much how everyday people ate and mingled with each other. It didn’t matter if you earned pennies or were a millionaire; you were eating at a dai pai dong. Back during our 2015-2016 trip, we ate at one dai pai dong, I believe either in Central or Sheung Wan. But I think this experience was even more fun and chaotic. I loved the hustle and bustle of the place, the quick turnover of the tables, the super fast ordering and serving of food. I even like the way the payment was set up, all centralized at one spot across all stalls. When we got into the eating area, Chris got us a table quickly, but it wasn’t assigned to the food stall I wanted to eat at. When I realized what had happened, I asked one of the servers if we could still eat at that table and order. She said it was fine. But apparently, the server I asked was for Tak Fat, not for the one we did NOT want to eat at. So while she was perfectly fine with it since her business would benefit from our seating arrangement, the place we did not want to eat at was not okay with it. So we ended up having to move tables. It was still very quick, and we were seated at a new table immediately. The hustle was real!

We had two Hong Kong style iced milk teas, one order of beef ball and beef brisket noodle soup, and an order that I was not 100 percent certain what I got, but ended up being exactly what the Chinese said, word for word: Fried chicken egg noodle soup. When this finally arrived a while after our noodle soup and teas came, it was two perfectly fried to order chicken wings and one fried egg on a plate, and a bowl of chicken broth with instant noodles in it. It was kind of hilarious, as I wasn’t totally expecting that, but it was truly a literal translation of the Chinese. It was a typical cha chaan teng meal, and one that Chris found very peculiar. We all enjoyed the chicken wings. The beef balls were very flavorful, super springy and bouncy. The beef brisket was also delicious — melt in your mouth tender and well seasoned. I can still smell the five-spiced / star anise aroma as I am writing this. Kaia really enjoyed the beef broth, and she tried to steal the bowl from me as I was enjoying the beef brisket and beef balls!

Our last meal of the day was at a seafood restaurant closer to our hotel, which I will definitely remember, but not necessarily for culinary or taste reasons. It felt very local and was in an area that had virtually no tourists. Plus, you had to go up a discreet elevator to get to the restaurant. Chris asked me what I wanted to eat as a last dinner before we left, and I told him we hadn’t had any crab, so I’d like to eat Cantonese style crab. Well, I didn’t realize that yet again, even after my first experience with our overpriced steamed whole fish at Shenggengwan Restaurant in Guangzhou, that “market price” can be a very dangerous label on a platter of seafood at any restaurant. I ordered the fried crab with ginger scallion. The sauce was delicious, as was the crab (which I pretty much ate all by myself since Chris thinks crab is just okay; he also hates all the work of getting the crab meat out of the shells and the mess… definitely his dad’s child). It was sweet, juicy, and perfectly cooked. I made a total mess, but in the end, it was enjoyable. Unfortunately, that single crab set us back $160 USD, which I found out when I went to pay the bill. That’s probably the most expensive crab I’d eaten in my entire life! My parents or grandparents NEVER would have paid that much for ginger scallion crab! At least I was on vacation, so I can justify it as a “vacation” expense.

Next time I order “market price,” I am most definitely asking for the price before committing. Ouch. Tasty, but still… ouch.

Xinjiang, the Uygur Autonomous Region of China, is located in the northwestern part of China and is particularly interesting in its cuisine because it fuses together Chinese cuisine along with many different ethnic groups that represent Xinjiang, such as Uygur, Kazak, Tibetan, Mongal, Russian, and the list goes on. Xinjiang food has a lot of roast mutton and lamb, kebabs, bread made in round coal ovens. The spices used in this cuisine are also very different than anything Han Chinese: Islamic spices are the norm on meats you eat here. If you like meat, bread, and spices, Xinjiang cuisine will most definitely be your thing.

Chris was in a very meaty mood when we arrived in Guangzhou. After eating a smaller meal of chang fen (stuffed rice noodle rolls) and noodle soup with fish dumplings and fish balls, he annoyingly told me he was not satisfied and still wanted something more “substantial.” So we came across an area walking distance from our hotel where there were a number of Xinjiang restaurants. We popped into one on the second floor of a building that was beautifully decorated with multicolored glass lanterns and decided to sit down. There was a tea fee at this restaurant that was mandatory, so I chose a xue ju (I guess that translates as snow daisy or snow chrysanthemum?) tea that I’d never heard of before. It was a bright orange, almost red hued liquid, and the flavor was floral and almost smoky at the same time. We also ordered the roast lamb in a naan pit and a stir fried spicy noodle dish with vegetables for Kaia. When the lamb arrived at our table, it was served on massive metal skewers along with a tasty red and orange (but not hot) herb/spice mixture and slices of raw onion. It was absolutely delicious and cooked perfectly; even Kaia gnawed at the meat until it was just bones. We had so much meat that we ended up taking a decent chunk of it to go.

Today, after a delicious breakfast buffet at our hotel, we took a DiDi ride to Bai Hua (“One hundred flowers”) Mountain, then took the cable car up to the summit (or what we thought was the summit). From there, we could see the views of all of Guangzhou in all its cloudy, polluted haze. At the time we arrived that morning, you could just see Canton Tower through the haziness, but by the time we left, it was pretty much invisible to the naked eye. As we walked around the eating areas, I was shocked to see how extensive the menus were. If you were at a similar spot in the U.S. where you got a cable car ride up to a summit, you might have some really fancy (and overpriced) food options as well as fast food stuff (hello, burgers, fries, and chicken tenders), which would be more typical. But here, I was so impressed: for snacks, you could get made-to-order Hong Kong style egg waffles, also known as bubble waffles, which are super crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside (and if you are lucky, filled with something delicious and gooey, like matcha cream, strawberry, or even durian!); fresh tofu pudding, a whole steamed fish (yes, really); and if that was not enough: AN ENTIRE BANQUET STYLE MEAL. I was floored looking at the spreads of food that people were casually eating outdoors on this semi-warm, cloudy day.

For lunch, we went to the famous Bejing Road, known for its endless foodie delights. And we went to a location of the the oldest standing dim sum house (since 1880) in Guangzhou: Tao Tao Ju. They have multiple locations now, and unfortunately, while I did not bring us to the original location, I was pleased to see that this new location retained all the charms of the original with its traditional Chinese architecture and decor. I knew this dim sum experience was going to be good as soon as the server confirmed that yes, they did have chrysanthemum tea (I’ve already had multiple places tell me that they either don’t have it, or they make you pay an up-charge for it); and when the tea pot came, the server placed it on a little warmer with a lit candle inside it.

The service was straightforward, and the ordering was easy because most dishes had photos with Chinese descriptions. They also won brownie points with me because they immediately gave Pookster a little kids’ (unbreakable) plate, plus a disposable bib with a little toy truck with ladder. The most notable dishes we had at this tea experience were also some of the most basic, but executed extremely well: the siu mai (shao mai) had delicious flavor and perfect texture between the crispness of the prawn against the chewiness of the minced mushrooms, and the softness and fattiness of the pork. The “cherry” on top, which I honestly could not appreciate but liked the presentation of, were the black caviar on top of each. Their Tao Tao Ju version of ha gao, or Tao Tao Ju “big prawn dumplings,” were perfect, with well executed and crisp prawns along with a thin and soft tapioca based dumpling skin. I also loved their version of nor mai gai (nuo mi ji), sticky glutinous rice with savory chicken, mushroom, and abalone (what a surprise! I went back and translated the Chinese character which I mistakenly thought was fish, but it actually said abalone), wrapped into a steaming lotus leaf. The “cute” dish I ordered were liu sha bao, or egg yolk lava custard buns, decorated on the outside to look like little piggies. This was the one thing Kaia actually ate in full at this meal.

Random other fun things we did along Beijing Road: we got already prepared fruit that we picked ourselves from a fruit vendor, with the main highlights being the fresh and sweet jackfruit and the cherries (Kaia ate ALL the cherries); even the free cantaloupe the vendor threw in were sweet! Chris found a shop called Han Xiao Liu that specializes in durian products. He picked up a durian-shaped ice cream stick for us to share; it had 30 percent durian in it! I also went hunting for a bathroom that actually had toilet seats for Kaia since she cannot deal with the squat toilets here, which led me back into the mall that Tao Tao Ju was in. That led us to stumble upon an Anpanman themed kids’ playhouse. Kaia ran into it and slid down the slide three times until an employee was checking who knows what and kicked her and another little friend out. She motioned toward the sign when another parent came to protest. I translated the sign with my translator app to discover that in order to allow Kaia to play here, while it would be free, I’d still need to register as a user on WeChat… which I obviously didn’t do. WeChat and Alipay rule here!

I was aware that China was on the road to becoming a cashless society based on what I read; I was not aware exactly how little cash I’d see while here… which is to say, NONE. Literally every vendor or shop only took payment via AliPay or WeChat; even homeless people begged with a WeChat or AliPay sign for you to transfer money directly to them. Chris had planned ahead and had downloaded both apps. I just didn’t realize that even a kids’ playhouse would require a WeChat registration. It sounded nuts to me, but I suppose that’s the goal of the Chinese government: to literally track every movement of its citizens as well as its visitors. Ouch.