a bloody tongue

Yesterday, after a very long day at the office, I finally found myself strolling home, passing the newly built Buddhist temple where South Bridge Road splits by Chinatown. These days, a large tent is erected in the free lot next to the construction, hosting curious crowds of foremost local visitors watching stage performances resembling a kabuki dance. I stood there and looked on, not understanding any of the dramatic gestures and screaming on stage but equally irritated by a loud microphone interrupting the performance from the other end under the large tent. Was it a part of it…? I walked closer. Seemingly unattached by viewers to the Chinese dance, to their back-side was a little podium with a decorated armchair. On it sat a Chinese guy in his forties, dressed in purple and bright green robes, shaking his head, seemingly meditating. Monks in traditional gold robes elevated on little tables fanned incent smoke into his face, obviously agitating him. A tourist with a bright Canadian shirt stood aside, filming it. I thought it was a prayer of some sort and was just about to walk off when the irritated guy started convulsing his body and finally ended in a forward-leaning position with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. A monk held a golden bowl below his chin, and I stood there gazing while the guy in purple and green sliced his tongue in shreds with a sharp razor blade. The Canadian guy turned off his camera and held his hand in affront of his mouth, clearly shocked. Blood ran into the bowl. I felt a little shudder and confused, searching for any reactions amidst the other viewers, but they all seemed calm. The “bleeder” must have felt the same lack of response as he reached for the blade again and slid across the hanging tongue several times.

I walked off. Feeling fainted.

The next day I received explanations that could not erase or clear my wondering mind about the gruesome scenery still freshly present in my mind. Apparently, the same guy had “bathed” himself with scolding oil to chase away the bad spirits holding on to him. I’m not sure which “bad spirits” he thought to chase away; from my perspective, it is himself he needs to be afraid of…
Clearly, I am stuck in a culture shock. I believed to have surpassed this stage a few weeks back without significant scarring, but heck…
My work for the restaurant opening is keeping me busy beyond my free time. The kitchen equipment is installed by the end of next week and I can start placing the many orders we’ve prepared to get ready when launching the venue in three weeks. Wow, it is all in an end rush. Long discussions about SOP (standard operational procedures) show great efforts but conflicting understandings about the need and purpose of such documents. I need to learn to sit back and let the actions dictate the time, although I want to be more logical and efficient: The team members have the right to discover the work and energies that are essential to pull together a functioning operation, even if I feel it ridiculously repetitive. My lesson within has to be “showing patience with other”… I wish we would just shortcut some of the debates, things we talk out that indeed are important points but considering the limited time available and stress, some inputs are a bit misplaced and a serious handicap when needing to concentrate on training my kitchen staff. My friend Jerry is arriving from Los Angeles this weekend and still has no furniture in my flat. Richard Quest invited me to visit the World Future Summit, a fascinating opportunity. I spent the weekend with him, took him to Vivo City, and showed him my new working space; he was impressed. I like his input when I blabber about the many ideas swirling in my head; he is much more worldly-wise and a great source when in need of feedback. The coming week my sleeping time will be little, but the excitement keeps my adrenalin rush going. All together, a full agenda, and I wonder why I am so calm: I guess it has to do with the Tomato Vinegar. Last week we had an introduction by a Japanese self-proclaimed Sommelier (I know, Sommelier…), but this one is a vinegar taster, producer, and clearly a connoisseur. He showed great compassion for his elixirs. I sat with my chef’s team in the last row, and we sipped too much of the sour testers; They are indeed delicious! They are incredibly smooth and tasty! But when he curdled milk and explained that was a tremendous culinary vinegar preparation, he clashed with our chef hearts…
Nevertheless, our new menu has already incorporated three recipes with his products. Did you know that Auspicious, the first chef to write a cookbook in Roman days, describes cooking and poaching with vinegar? Tomato Vinegar calms the mind. Seriously, I will be drinking bottles until the New Year’s boom has passed. (Don’t drink this when you have a cut on your tongue…)
I’m off to the next meeting, what will it be about?? Where is my palm pilot?
TCMchef raphael