Chinese Barbecue – Jinzhou

Jinzhou calls itself a city, but then again, so does Detroit. Jinzhou is rarely on the map, and the humble abodes of my mother’s family are tucked away around a complex of apartments that serve the electric company. This complex forms its own town, with its own market from local farmers slinging everything from garlic to pastries to cute little bunnies with tiny floppy ears. When I was younger, I was utterly bored out of my mind and always hopping off to the next thrill, but over the years Jinzhou has grown on me. I can’t walk down the street without someone recognizing me as Mrs. Cao’s granddaughter, and I can’t go to the market without someone noticing that I’m new in town. The electric company complex has a sweet tight-knit familiarity about it, and Jinzhou has its own charms.

When I get too stir-crazy, there are tons of local markets in the city, unspoiled and untouched by tourists, where you drive a hard bargain to get a good price. And now that I’m a foodie, Jinzhou has me hooked and skewered. Boasting of a fantastic array of barbecue that puts this quaint little city on the foodie map, everything tastes good on a stick. Barbecue is Jinzhou’s claim to fame. Douse it in hot sauce, and I swear you’ll crave it like it’s crack. Maybe it is crack…my withdrawal cravings are intense, and I’m salivating for it as I type.

For the first time, my cousin Elizabeth is not present so you’re spared of the gaggle of grossness she commonly commands. She always finishes her sheep eyes, chicken heads, lamb kidney, and chicken gizzards with a flourish, but there will be no photos for now as I refuse to order them solely for dramatic effect. And there is no way I’m eating anything that can see me.

My usual is somewhat unusual but hopefully not enough to shock much. I start with the Lamb skewers which are benign enough, and sometimes I’ll order some Calamari. An easy start to an uneasy meal.

I have a soft spot for Sweet Potato, but it cooks poorly on a skewer so it’s often served on a plate, sprinkled with sugar. The sugar wasn’t my choice.

We move from benign to boisterous with Chicken Cartilage skewers. The crunching is appealing for reasons I’ll never divine, and despite a deeply chipped molar, there is nothing quite as satisfying as cracking through cartilage dunked in spicy sauce.

Some people have a foot fetish, but mine is clearly a fear. I fear Chicken Feet like fat people fear starvation. The mere sight sets me gagging, and the mere thought triggers my tremors. I faced my fears once in Jinzhou years ago, when I tried a single bite of chicken feet, and it is only with a skewer in hand that I will battle my demons. Sorry dim sum, it’s not gonna happen.

I do love les poissons, but it took me a few tries to warm up to this Fish. I started by making it impossible for my food to see my by yanking off and discarding the head, which is really just an obstacle to the belly full of roe. In the world there is no woe when you’re eating a fish full of roe.