No longer am I the exotic guest at the common dinner. While during the first few times the discussions almost exclusively revolved around me (work， family， home， views of China， eating habits and the like)， this changed very soon， and everyone is now talking loud and fast and everybody at the same time about the latest current topics. LaoWei is of no particular concern any more， he is sitting at the table and able to participate in the conversation (if he can do or when he finds someone to help interpret)， and my presence has quickly become common acceptance.
Both Saturdays and Sundays， we eat only Chinese. Saturday we change the restaurant frequently， it may be SiChuan， ShangHai， BeiJing or other Chinese kitchen， on Sundays we are almost always in the same restaurant which is serving Cantonese cuisine. Here we are regulars. We eat everything that we can get： all sorts of meat， fish， vegetables， shrimp. I’m learning to eat duck tongue， frogs and a kind of small lobster (spicy)， get used to it and am increasingly attracted to eating very spicy food， even some that seemed to me strange at first (for example， intestines).
I observe， not only here， that the Chinese extremely like to nibble bones. We would return such a dish to the kitchen and ask whether we had ordered “bones”， but if you order in China “chicken” or “pig”， it is almost always served as small-cut pieces of bone， carefully moved for minutes in the mouth and be worn away neatly. The same is true for fish bones and fish heads (by the way， in GuangDong or Kanton， this is the prime gourmet dish among all， the body of the fish is for the poor folk， the head for the wealthier， it was said in earlier times).
I also learn to eat crabs. You can order them in restaurants (if you have no chance to buy them yourself at the original site where they are raised)， and for most Chinese people they are a delicacy for which they like to spend much money. The connoisseur will accept only crabs from lake YangChengHu (阳澄湖 ) in SuZhou， these are freshwater crabs， in our view quite strange-looking creatures， and hairy (indeed they are called “hairy crab”). They are incredibly tasty and， because of the high protein content， very nutritious， too. As always， there are also the clever traders who have grown their crabs somewhere else but water their baskets a day or two at the shore of the lake： Thus， their crabs “come from the lake” and are ennobled， that is， they will cost several times the price of “normal” crabs. The true connoisseur， however， can easily distinguish the true from the fake YangChengHu crabs by their taste. Crabs are gnawed with devotion (after eating the bulk of the body) for hours， I can find nothing left in the long thin legs and claws， but for the Chinese gourmet now， this is just the beginning.
On another occasion， we only had been four friends of us (usually we are at least eight)， and the other three asked me to follow their car with my bike to some (to me) unkown restaurant. They had a problem to park their car， but I had my bike， no parking space necessary. We met on the street， and here it was， the restaurant we intended to meet. But what was this？ An ugly chaotic street “restaurant” which type I am used to visit in the neighbourhood of customer production sites， why do we meet here？
“Because they are famous for best fish dishes.” (It is very close to Shekou fishing harbour). And so it was. First， we had no chance to immediately get a table， we had to wait as well. But we were allowed to order while standing and waiting for a table to become available on the street.
Instead of a professional menu， we got a small sheet of paper with some (for me) unreadable handwritten Chinese characters. We ordered which and which fish dish. Some time later we got a table and ate， it was perfect. The dinner was outstanding. Wonderful fresh fish. More and more people were waiting to get our table. Why we have never been here before， I asked？ My friends explained that it is not possible to come here with eight or twelve people (as we often are) and even more it is impossible to stay there after dinner is finished and simply have a few more beers while chatting， that would make the waiting crowd furious. Understood. What an interesting secret place！
One other day I am getting asked： “Do you like dog？” I reply truthfully that I have eaten dog twice， once in Korea in the demilitarised zone during a crane research trip， another time many years ago in ChangChun. Both times it was o. k.， but not convincing. So dog is ordered – it tastes great. The Cantonese way to prepare dog is much more palatable than that in North Korea or North China (which I have to admit， although I would never order dog for myself).
I especially like the vegetables， lotus root， soy and bamboo shoots， and for me， “马齿苋” is an entirely new discovery. It took weeks until we found the proper common Chinese name， because my friends knew only a popular name (“cat ears”)， while the right name， ma chi xian， literally translates as “horse-tooth amaranth”. It is a kind of purslane， a very fresh and sour tasting vegetable that even grows wild in the ditches of ShenZhen， and in moist places in parks， I have found it myself there； the fine shafts and the fleshy little leaves are very tasty.
So our evening dinner meetings are not only moist and fun but also educational.