The Orange Chicken Recipe

I've been promised a good meatloaf recipe in exchange for Peter's Orange Chicken recipe.  I post it here for those who asked for it.  The Chinese don't measure, so all amounts are approximate.  Feel free to experiment and modify to fit your tastes.  If you like it I wouldn't mind getting a few of your best recipes in return.

1. Take 2-6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts and cut into one inch square pieces.
2. Roll the chicken pieces in flour. (Peter prefers cornstarch, but it gives the meat a mushy texture I dislike.)
3. Fry your chicken pieces in one inch of oil in a wok or heavy saucepan. Yes, deep fry. Chinese food is not healthy. (You could probably use grilled chicken if you wanted to.)
4. When cooked through, remove the chicken from the oil and and drain on a paper towel.
5. While the chicken is cooking, zest and juice one orange. Or more. Or maybe a lemon. Tangerine?  Set zest and juice aside.
6. In a wok or large fry pan combine two parts frozen orange juice concentrate with one part water.  (adjusting this ratio of water to concentrate will make the chicken more or less orangey.)
7. In the pan add the juice of the orange. Add a dash of salt. Don't leave the salt out. Add 1-3 tablespoons of good marmelade (marmelade is a little bitter, so if you're not used to it go sparingly or leave it out.)
8. In a separate bowl mix some cornstarch with water, one part cornstarch to two parts water. Ish.
9. Place the pan containing the orange mixture over medium heat. Bring to a gentle simmer. Using a wisk, add the cornstarch mixture in small amounts until the sauce is thickened to a pleasing consistency.
10. Add the cooked chicken to the sauce and let simmer for a minute.
11. Taste. If it seems like it "needs something" add a dash more of salt, garlic powder,sugar, rice vinegar or a dab of chicken broth..
12. When it's done remove from heat and sprinkle on the orange zest.
13. Serve with rice and stir-fried spinach or cucumber salad.

The International Bank of Peter

My salary is long gone, eaten by the bills, so I've been bumming from Peter and his noodle proceeds.

Me: Honey, I need some more cash.
Peter: How much do you want?
Me: How much am I worth?
Peter: Here's 150RMB.
Me: This is all in tens and fives.
Peter: So?
Me: Don't you need change for the shop?
Peter: No, I've got too much.  That's why you get it.
Me: I can't walk around with all these small bills.  People will think I'm a stripper.
Peter: It's not like you'll be going around making purchases of 50RMB.
Me: So this is how you control my spending.
Peter: Not at all.  For the right pair of shoes, you'd risk looking like a stripper.
Me: I want a divorce.
Peter: Can you get a divorce for 150 RMB?
Me: Maybe!
Peter: Your lawyer will think you're a stripper.
Me: Rats.
Peter: So, no on the divorce?
Me: Not today.  Maybe tomorrow.
Peter: Great.  Can you make some popcorn?

The Odd Couple

Peter and I are watching TV.  Except, as usual, we're not so much watching it as sitting in front of it ignoring it and talking.  We are watching an episode of Mythbusters about the 5 second rule.

 Peter: What's the 5 second rule?
Me: That you can eat something off the floor if it's been there less than 5 seconds.
Peter: I would never do that.
Me: I used to believe in that.
Peter: Why'd you stop?
Me: I stopped right around the time I became responsible for cleaning my own floors.  Would you eat off your grandma's floor?  She's really clean.
Peter: She is, but I wouldn't eat off her floor, because she's crazy.  She does mop twice a day, though.
Me: Really?
Peter: Yeah, everyone on that side of the family does.  They're a little anal.  My grandfather used to yell at me for watching TV and reading the newspaper at the same time.
Me: Why?
Peter: He said it was a waste of electricity.  Also he wouldn't ever let me sit on the bed with my pants on.
Me: Pardon?
Peter: He said the only thing that should go on the bed is your body in pajamas.  Your street clothes are dirty.  He also didn't let me put my school bag on the bed.  Or any food.
Me: Is that why everyone takes their pants off whenever they go to your grandparents' house?
Peter: Yeah.  Anal.  I never told you before, but it kind of bothers me, too.
Me: You told me before.
Peter: I did?
Me: Remember when I was packing to go to America and I put my suitcase on the bed?
Peter: It had been in storage for a year!
Me: I dusted it!  You're turning into your grandfather.
Peter: Maybe.
Me: Wait a few more years, then you'll start turning into your father.
Peter: What's wrong with that?
Me: Nothing, but I'm turning into my mother.
Peter: So it'd be like your mother was married to my father...
(beat)
Me: Yeah, that wouldn't work at all.
Peter: I think we discovered where divorce comes from.

Peter's family are lovely people.  They have a quirk or two, like the rest of us.  Pants are generally removed only when wearing long johns underneath, in the winter, which is not (too) unusual here.  My mother and his father are lovely, caring people, but definitely not made for each other!

Kind of sounds like Klingon

I am asking Peter questions from an online dyslexia test.  He has to rate the statements from 1 to 5.

Me: The subject often asks to have statements repeated or explained.
Peter: What does that mean?

Peter and I are walking down the street in Beijing with the sun at our backs making fun of each other (which of course is part of a healthy relationship).  Peter has a genetic trait that is harmless but very, very bizzare. 

Peter: You walk too slow.
Me: You sneeze like a mutant.
Peter: Pardon?
Me: Normal people sneeze like "achoo."  You sneeze like "ka-plah," like you're spitting out sour milk.
Peter: Fine, you want to see me sneeze?
Peter stops walking and turns around to face the bright afternoon sun.  Nothing happens for about ten seconds.  Then his face starts to change, until suddenly...
Peter: Ka-PLAH!
Me: See, I told you.  Mutant.
Peter: I'm still faster than you.

On Empty

Peter and I are in bed eating Chinese food (here just called food) and watching Due Date.  It is very funny, and at least 50% funnier to us because Iron Man's name is Peter. (I can't remember Iron Man's real name, but does it matter?)

Movie Peter: We're going to Mexico?!  Why are we going to Mexico?
Movie Ethan: Mexico?  Dude, I thought it was Texaco!  We're low on gas!
My Peter: I knew I wasn't the only one to make that mistake!

Engage!

Peter comes home to find me watching TNG.

Peter: Oh, you're watching Traveling the Stars.
Me: In English we call it Star Trek.  I always used to watch this with my parents when I was a kid.  Do Chinese people watch this?
Peter:  Yes.
Me: Really?
Peter: Sure.
Me: Interesting.  I can't picture Chinese people watching Star Trek.
Peter: Okay, I watched it.
Me: Oh, honey!
Peter: Yeah, I loved this.  (Holding up a Vulcan "Live long and prosper" salute)  Hola!

Around the China in 24 Hours

Peter and I had to go to an appointment in Beijing regarding his green card.  We'd planned to stay a couple days, but the rice noodle acquisition called us home.  We left Xi'an on the overnight train to Beijing at 7pm and returned by plane (thank you frequent flier miles) the following day at 9pm.  Here are some, er, memorable moments from our trip.

Me: My feet look fat in these wool socks.
Peter: Good.  That means they match the rest of you.
Me: I beg your pardon?  Would you care to rephrase that?
Peter: I like Santa Claus.
Me: Damn right you do.

Peter returns from the restroom on the train, looking sheepish.

Me: What's wrong?
Peter: I've been on too many airplanes.  I am airplaneized.
Me: Why?
Peter: I went potty.  I flushed the toilet.  I covered my ears.  Then I realized I wasn't on a plane, and it wasn't going to make that horrible sound like you're going to be sucked out of the airplane. 

I am spelling the name of a restaurant for Peter so he can call 411 and look up the address.  The restaurant is called (coincidentally) Peter's Tex-Mex.

Me: It's like your name, followed by an apostrophe s.
Peter: Say what?
Me: You know, P-E-T-E-R-apostrophe-S. 
Peter: What? A-plastic-free-S?
Me: No, you know, apostrophe, a comma in the air, A-P-O-S-T----
Peter: Maybe we should have Thai.  T-H-A-I.
Me: I bet Peter's serves meatloaf.
Peter: A comma in the air?  Got it.

2+2=Lucy

Peter: You're not bringing a bag, are you?  We're only going for one night!
Me: Just a small bag.
Peter: Backpack?
Me: Carry-on size.  I have to carry our winter coats.
Peter: We can wear them on the train.
Me: I am not sleeping on the train all night in a down overcoat.
Peter: Why not?  It's like a sleeping bag.
Me: Exactly.
Peter: Who will be carrying this alleged bag?
Me: You.  You're the man.
Peter: Americans are too difficult.  Like math.

Infidelity

Me: What would you think if someone else fell in love with me?
Peter: I'd be mad.
Me: At me?
Peter: No.  You can't help it if someone else falls for you.
Me: Mad at him?  Or her?
Peter: No.  I'd be mad at your parents.
Me: Why?
Peter: Because they gave you a good face.
Me: Aww!
Peter: Yeah.  If you weren't hot someone might fall for you after talking to you for, like, a few hours.
Me: Um...
Peter: Otherwise you wouldn't have a chance, unless you were hot.
Me: You shoulda quit while you were ahead.

Corleone's China Kitchen

It is 1:00am. Peter and I are sitting in a barbecue restaurant eating grilled zucchini and discussing our latest scheme, to open a noodle shop in Xi'an and use the proceeds to return to the US and open a number of very successful restaurants. We are discussing the risks involved in this plan, and which US cities would be best to settle in.

Peter: What if the mafia comes after us?
Me: Just what sort of restaurant are you planning?
Peter: Does it matter? What if they bother us?
Me: The mafia will leave us alone if we leave them alone. That kind of thing doesn't happen to us.
Peter: Our car got stolen.
Me: That wasn't the mafia. That was drug addicts.
Peter: What if they come up to us on the street with a gun and ask for money?
Me: A mugging? That's not the mafia either. That's also the drug addicts.
Peter: Then what does the mafia do?
Me: Loan money at really high interest rates and pressure us to pay it back quickly.
Peter: Like our credit cards?
Me: Worse.
Peter: Wow. Is the mafia in Dallas?
Me: I don't know. Most of what I know about the mafia comes from movies. I've never heard of a Dallas mafia.
Peter: Why wouldn't the mafia be in Dallas?
Me: I don't know, maybe they don't like rodeo?
Peter: Well, if we do get involved with the mafia, what should we do?
Me: Look baby, you worry about opening the noodle shop, raising the money, relocating us to the US and opening a restaurant there. Let me worry about holding off the mobsters.
Peter: Deal.

Gesundheit

I don't know if I've been paying more attention or if my students have been extra-funny, but recently I've had a lot of funny stuff to post to Facebook. I've gotten more than one request to do something more with that stuff than just post it on Facebook. I'd decided to make a new blog for that purpose, but I already had this one, and it was easier to just update the template. I also like composing here a LOT better, because the touchpad on my mouse is a little freaky and sometimes I'll be halfway through composing a note on Facebook when I bump the touchpad the wrong way and lose the whole thing. Sometimes I lose the whole thing anyway, if my connection to the internet gets interrupted. (As an aside, if Facebook really wants to become the Wal-Mart of the internet they need to develop that Notes feature a little more.)

Anyway, I plan on posting my China observations here, as well as anything else that happens to wander through my mind. These will also post to Facebook, so I should be able to keep everyone in the loop.

So, I thought I'd start off my series of China Excerpts with an oldie but a goodie. This is a conversation Peter and I had when we were still dating.

Peter: (sneezes)
Me: Gesundheit.
Peter: What?
Me: It's German. It's a wish for good health.
Peter: Why are you speaking German?
Me: I don't know. We've borrowed that one. In English we say "Bless you."
Peter: Why?
Me: I've heard a couple different stories of why. Most of them are related to your soul or evil spirits. Saying "bless you" keeps the bad stuff out and the good stuff in when you sneeze.
Peter: Weird.
Me: You don't have anything like that in Chinese? Nothing superstitious about sneezing?
Peter: No.
Me: Nothing from the olden days? Traditional? What does your grandma say when you sneeze?
Peter: "See, you're getting a cold. I told you to wear a jacket."