More home cooking

I had not seen Yanyan for five days, because she was working in the shop of a friend at the other side of town during the holidays to earn some money, and also staying there. When she returned, I told her about the home cooking dinner, and she immediately suggested to do it again, but this time with her friend Xiao Ying and cousin Zhao Zheng Wei who have been here already, and another girl from her school.
Yanyan and me went shopping at the small market on the corner of Daxue Donglu and Luban Lu. Very close to my place, but I didn't have the courage to go there yet. It's a countryside-style meat, poultry, fish and produce market, like you have everywhere in China. Their appearance in stark contrast with the bright and shiny modern supermarkets, these old-school markets are still quite popular, because of the low prices, and -in general- fresh products. You have to accept the sometimes stomach-churning displays of animal slaughtering while walking past piles of intestines and puddles of blood though, not to mention the pungent smell of the chicken and duck cages.

We first bought a chicken, which was already dead and cleaned of its feathers, showing a gaping hole in the throat where the blood had drained from an hour or so earlier.
The poultry saleswoman chopped it to smithereens with the weapon of choice in China: the large square kitchen blade, while the other chickens, ducks, and geese were watching from their bamboo cages. She carefully split the head in two, right between the eyes, and chopped off the toenails in a few quick but well-placed strikes. After tying up the remains in a plastic bag and paying 19 RMB, we headed for the fish. A basin full of different species, some more alive than others, provided plenty of choice, and after prodding some of the fish to check the vital functions, we selected our victim, a nice specimen of just over one kilogram, costing 10 RMB. It was smacked unconscious by a quick blow on the head with the flat side of the knife, to keep it still while being weighted on a simple hand-held scale, and then quickly undone of its innards. Hopefully by now it was completely dead.
I thought briefly about my vegetarian friends, animal rights and the fact that in Holland we even have a political party devoted to animals. Unthinkable thoughts in China.
With the fish in another plastic bag we walked over to the vegetable section, and stacked up on a varied supply of greens and purple (aubergine), and some dried mushrooms and a handful of unidentified small dried bulbs that looked a bit like chickpeas, but were not (even after eating them, I still have no idea what it was).
Returning home there was some discussion on the order of preparation, given the limited possibilities in my kitchen with just one gas burner, a wok, and a rice cooker. We decided to cook rice first, then empty the rice cooker into another container, and use it again to make the chicken and mushroom soup, with the lid open so it would not shut off after reaching the boiling point.
It worked well.

While the soup was simmering in the rice cooker, Yanyan fried aubergine and various other vegetables in the wok, adding slices of grilled tofu we had bought from a street-side vendor, green chilies, and a variety of condiments.
The fish was cut in two and marinated, then also fried in the wok, and splashed with beer. After removing the fish, finely sliced ginger and spring onion were added to the juices and then poured over the fish again.
A table full of delicacies, washed down with sweet Chinese red wine and plenty of beer. Watermelon and bananas for desert. Bao le!