When Jacob and I first moved to Beijing we were infatuated with hot pot. It was the beginning of winter, when low temperatures and relentless winds made dinner over a pot of boiling broth very enticing. We didn’t have a kitchen in our first apartment and ate out almost every night at hot pot restaurants both cheap and pricey.
Then, spring came. With the warmer weather emerged the more discerning, and lazier, eater in us. Why should I pay higher prices to cook my own food? Isn’t the purpose of eating out to sit back and enjoy other people’s creations?
So we avoided hot pot completely until a two weeks ago. It was freezing in Beijing and we walked past a hutong restaurant through whose windows we saw only steam and blurry outlines of people dipping food into a pot. Sold.
The place was as local as you could imagine. “No smoking” signs covered the walls but every other patron was puffing on a cigarette. Tabletops were cracked and peeling. Beer was served in little neon water tumblers manufactured for small children. But the attraction was the hot pot itself, this ancient iron monster heated by charcoal, not those nouveau thingies with induction cookers. (I particularly love the photo up top, in with the hot pot looks like this inferno surrounded by bits of swimming goji berries and enoki mushrooms.)
I opted for the clear broth instead of the sinus-clearing spicy broth. We ordered our usual spread of food, which is way too much for two people: lamb, shiitakes, enoki, spinach, cabbage, vermicelli, all to be cooked and dipped in a peanut sesame sauce.
Granted, I have had much better hot pot, in much better environments. And at 71 RMB for two, it was the most expensive meal I have ever eaten in a hutong hole with sketchy hygiene and cracking tables. But then again, after a year of avoiding hot pot, it was a novelty to sit in front of a flaming relic from a bygone era, and yes, cook our own food.
When I went to Hong Kong / Beijing in 2001, a Chinese friend of my brothers took us to a place for this. It was so delicious, very fun memory.
ChongQing! on our way to take a cruise down yangtze river, we had dinner near the port of departure in ChongQing famous for its spicy “sinus-clearing” broth. the best thing was, there’s a smaller bowl in the center, like a pot within a pot, so that i can have my spicy broth, while the rest of my (mostly elderly) tour group had the clear one. YUMM! doesn’t look like the cleanest place… but if i could, i’d fly back just for a taste again!
Hot pot is wonderful in the winter. I especially love ma-la!
This is only our second year in Shanghai but I come to love Hotpot, December through February.
Yes, I love those old charcoal-burning hotpots! And I especially approve of the 蒙古口杯 in the last photo- assuming it still contains its original contents, that’s a great way to stave off the winter chill.
I lived in Chongqing for 1 year in 2002-2003 and ate hot pot maybe 3x/wk I loved it soooo much. The best thing I could do to recreate the magic back in the states is an electric wok with boiling broth I find at the local asian market. SOOO not the same, but it’ll do until I can make a visit back someday.
Thanks Diana for this! Reminds me of my hotpot days in Beijing in the freezing winters. I always have hotpot at home in London though, as it’s expensive to have it in restaurants. Will dig out my gas cooker and equipment for another session over the holiday!