About a month ago, I went to visit my brother in Guangzhou, China. If there’s anyone who enjoys food more than I, it would be him. Back when we were students, we had a somewhat different idea of what good food should be. His criteria for any gastronomic adventure, boiled down to four words, is: “Fast, good, cheap,” and “plenty.” (I know, this should be “plentiful.” But the Malaysian colloquilism/bastardization of that is “plenty.”) You could sacrifice perhaps one, but you needed a minimum of three to pass the test. For the most part, I still subscribe to his motto—I’ve had the good fortune to dine at Joel Rubuchon’s in Paris, and many other fine places that only meet the “good” criterion above; but that’s for another post.
Anyway, so here we are in Panyu City, just south of Guangzhou. At one of the many humungous restaurants where seafood is their speciality. You know how they say Americans can only picture something if it’s compared to the size of a football field? Well, imagine a restaurant roughly the size of a football field, stacked six or seven high.
Now imagine an Underwater World kind of place, or the Monterey Bay Aquarium, where the descriptions of the sea creatures all end with the price per kilogramme, and you have a pretty good idea of the restaurant.
On top of that, they also had all manner of sea fowl (peacocks too), aquatic insects (diving beetle), amphibians, reptiles and assorted invertabrates (silkworm). Linked photos by Flickr user “merriwether”
We ordered ourselves some mantis shrimp, also known as “shako” in Japanese, and “lai niu har” in Cantonese. “Lai niu har” means “the prawn that urinates,” because they pee all over the place when scared or shocked—like when you toss them into a hot wok. So, apparently, they’re speared right before cooking, to make them evacuate their bowels. Whatever the case, them things are tasty.
The highlight of the dinner, though, was steamed sea urchin with egg:
When we ordered it, we didn’t know it was going to be steamed inside the urchin itself, literally, an uni chawan mushi! It was smooth and silky, creamy and sweet—the kind of mild, briny sweetness you taste with perfectly fresh sea urchin.
While often referred to as “sea urchin roe,” the truth is that the five orangey strips are actually the creature’s gonads. Oh well, “that which we call a rose, by any other name…”
In all, a memorable meal. And yes, it was fast, cheap, good AND plenty.









