The US dollar goes a long way if you know where to look. At an exchange rate of 1:7, a couple dollars will buy you a hearty bowl of wonton soup. The soup is savory, and the pork filling is dense without being too heavy to digest. The wrappers are paper-thin and cooked to a perfect chewy texture. It’s so simple, so basic, but it is the stuff of my homeland dreams.
Add a couple more yen for a plate of flaky, fresh-baked red bean pastries in case you’re craving starch. They are crumb-y and crumbly, and the soft middle holds them all together. Golden, many-layered, best biscuit-y bakes I’ve had all week.
This is a random store on a random street across from Jinzhou’s
giant wholesale market. I don’t even know the name of the shop, but it is
basically any shop in China. A family with some mouths to feed, a home cook
with a dream. These are the people you see and it’s their food you taste. It’s
hard to stand out amongst the other 6 billion, but no matter how many millions
of wonton shops there are, this one I'll remember.
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