Sichuan Hotpot

To call Huoguo "Hot-pot" should be a crime. The literal translation is "Fire-pot," and that is honest and accurate in all possible ways. Boiling away on an open flame at the center of the table, Hua-Guo is a dark, simmering stew of spicy oils covering a mixture of foods that proves the Sichuan people will eat everything they see on the ground except the cars and everything they see in the sky except the planes. So far, duck’s blood is my favorite. It’s the constancy of tofu and has a unique flavor that absorbs just the right amount of the spices so my tongue is not incinerated. The best part about duck’s blood is the total lack of bones. Which brings me to my least favorite: Fish. I love the taste of fish, but the skill required to eat one whole with just chopsticks and avoid the bones eludes me. The Chinese can't do it either, but they have another skill to cope with the bones. They spit them out. On to the floor, the table, or the feet of an unsuspecting neighbor. I have no clue how they separate the meat from the bones so quickly and efficiently. One second, a chunk of fish head goes in, the next a pile of cleaned bones is landing somewhere in the vicinity. Chengdu people are eating machines. (Chengdu ren shi chi chi ji)