As a husband who remains irremediably Chinese, I enjoy eating Chinese food and in particular cooking Chinese food. Even as a student during my early days in Europe, I had enjoyed performing my "percussion concert" with pans, bowls, spoons and tubs in my tiny studio and used to invite a band of hard-up Chinese students to share my "masterpieces." However, my wife, good at French cooking and furthermore keen to keep a high standard of hygiene in our house, categorically dismissed my efforts as a Chinese chef, who stir-fried everything, and thus was a big consumer of oil and a big source of pollution. One day, however, the laid-off chef, could not help asking her to step down to make room for him: "My darling, today, I really want to prepare some Chinese food, a Sichuan speciality for us to feast upon. Could you please lend me the kitchen?" "No problem, but don't make too much greasy dirt." My wife, used to cooking in pure water, was excited, but a little bit worried. I shut the door and, as a cook, began to play happily and loudly with the cooking utensils and dance around the oven. The menu was fixed one week earlier. Soon, the strong smell of Sichuan delicacies spread all over the house and I appeared with the first course of savouries "Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So" ?several cold dishes: a preserved egg dressed with coriander, pig's ear covered in pepper, Sichuan style pickles. "Come on, Darling! " I proudly called out.
Dressed in a red cheongsam to match the chef's masterpieces, my lovely wife came with deliberate steps into the dining room. "What's this?" She asked doubtfully, pointing at the black egg on the plate. "This is a Chinese speciality, Songhuadan. It is a real delicacy. Taste it." Seeing her hesitating, I brought a piece of Songhuadan up to her mouth. "Horrible! Why is it so smelly?" she frowned, nearly vomiting it up. "My darling, it is delicious! Why do you find it disgusting?" I was puzzled. Seeing dark clouds cover her face, I hastened to resort to the usual panacea "I love you." The magic remedy produced the desired result: the clouds dispersed and her face was brightened again by sunshine. However she resolutely refused to venture a further bite.
"Please taste this Sichuan style pickle. I made it myself. Wow, it is really appetizing!" With my chopsticks, I put a radish pickle into her mouth! "My god, too sour!" She shivered and gritted her teeth. "Come on, please taste this delicacy! In the seventies we could afford it only during the Chinese New Year. It is as good as the French speciality: duck liver p" I could not stop myself suggesting the traditional Chinese dish. Eagerly, I put one slice in front of her mouth. "What's this?" She became more vigilant. "Pig's ear!" "My goodness! Do you really eat pig's ear?" She closed her eyes, frightened, as if she had fallen into the hands of cannibals.
"My darling, don't panic. The best dishes will be following." I brought out a plate of piping hot bean curd, a plate of meat shreds in fish flavour and a plate of pig's paws braised in soy sauce. "The spicy Mapo bean curd is a Sichuan speciality, please try it!" While urging her, I put it on her plate. Waving her knife and fork, whoops, she smashed it to pieces, crushing it to pulp. "Oh no, I can't feel my tongue anymore!" She cried, panic-stricken. "Don't worry. The prickly ash in the Mapo bean curd is disinfecting your tongue!" I remained calm and showed her another dish. "Come on, please try a little bit of Yuxiang pork shreds. It is my masterpiece: a special number!" I quickly served a spoonful. "My month is on fire. Please put it out!" Tears falling like raindrops, she asked for help. Seeing her suffering, I immediately brought a spoonful of rice to her burning mouth. The fire was finally extinguished, but she was still a blushing beauty in tears. "Darling, I'm very sorry, but Sichuan food is known for its hot and pungent taste. I have put pepper and Chinese prickly ash in it. You know, I want to make it as spicy as our love! Anyhow, I will not continue to cook in the same way!"