Tag Archive for 'food-hawkers'

17
Nov

Fresh from the farm

Picture 1 of 4

The idea of fresh vegetables for me, a born and bred city girl from Singapore, is having my produce vendor pick out crisp greens at 7am in the morning in a crowded wet market. Ok, who am I kidding, my mother does the shopping. But surely that is fresh enough, no? After all, that crate of bak choy was merely a truck ride away from the farm in the suburbs … or Malaysia.

Organic was a term that entered my lexicon after I arrived in Los Angeles and a nice stockboy/man at Whole Foods was trying to convince me that I should pay USD 1 more for the same pound of vine tomatoes. No pesticides! Sweeter! Juicer! It’s just that much better.

So scoff away, you people who grew up with vegetable patches in your front yard. Mock me, people who buy organic produce at three times the price. I just found myself a nice farm with fresh leafy vegetables with low pesticide application. After all, it only took me about 1.5 hours to get there.

I was riding along Line 5 one day (an extension of Line 1, interchange at Xinzhuang (莘庄)) and toward the end of my ride, I came across a 4 block wide vegetable farm right by the metro stop. Interestingly enough, the area was made up mostly of factories and new houses (villas, flats, farm houses etc).

The landscape of neat rows of edible greens was managed by a few surrounding residents. The area was, at one point, a collection of village homes but they have been been flattened and all residents except one family had moved away to nearby flats. Mostly elderly folk  – retired, self-sufficient and very healthy – tended this farm. Almost all were born and bred Shanghainese. Migrant residents had their own farm elsewhere.

Trailing them, I watch them fondle and select ripe greens, dip their knives into the soil and tug out whole bak choys and lettuce. A little flick of the wrist removed loose roots and then gently packed away into bags and crates.

Little pesticide is used on the vegetables, they proudly tell me. And they sell what they cannot finish at the markets or on the streets.  How much? I inquired. RMB 2 (USD 0.30) a kilogram to vendors, one very tanned lady replied. Alas, it became clear that my nearby wet market has been profiting modestly.

My friend and I sat in the farm for a while, awashed by the pleasant colors of green and yellows, surrounded by bees and flies, and basking in brilliant weather. The farm ladies laughed at our cameras and shook their heads, oh you city folk, and carried on.

November 2010

02
Mar

A negotiation in bread

The jolly baker was a fixture at the market where teaming masses of human bodies bumped and jostled their way around.

He always had a smile on his face and ready conversation for his customers while he kneaded and baked his flat bread. For a man who had an almost permanent spot in the market, his baking paraphernalia was incredibly mobile.

A small crowd had gathered as I was taking his photo. A friend had shown one of the customers a random print photo I had taken. They shared it around while making clucking noises. I promised the baker I’d give him a portfolio shot the next time I see him.

“He should pay you for taking his photo then!” someone shouted. Approving murmurs ensued.

“5 pieces of bread for one photo!” another cheerfully volunteered. The baker laughed heartily although you could tell he was mentally weighing the costs.

Then the negotiations among the crowd began in earnest.

“6 pieces!”

“No! 4 pieces but with the sweet filling!”

“No, no!! He pays down payment with 1 piece!”

Over the din, more people joined in, wondering if a hostile argument had broken out.

Finally, his wife came along, perplexed by the commotion. Upon hearing the situation, she wisely settled on 2 pieces for a photo. And with that, all social order was restored.

December 2009

08
Feb

The makings of a humble pancake

For poor construction workers, each meal is about loading up enough carbohydrates to carry them through the day of heavy lifting, shoveling or jack hammering. The foundation ingredients don’t vary much. Dough-based products for breakfast and rice or noodles for lunch and dinner, preferably, all in large quantities. The idea is to keep it cheap and utilitarian.

Once customers gather en masse and the orders begin to roll in, the hawkers work at full speed. In a short 10 minutes, 6 pancakes are rolled out, cooked and stacked, 7 bowls of porridge are dished and about 8 dough sticks are deep-fried and served.

The beauty of street fare is not only its humble composition but freshness and taste especially when consumed standing in a cloud of aromatic steam. The liberal use of oil in street fare can sometimes be a deterrent but not necessarily a non-negotiable for a curious foodie.

November 2009

21
Jan

Feeding the workers

The business of construction involves more than labor and machinery. It often extends to an integrated supply chain of services solely aimed at addressing the daily needs of the construction worker. Street hawkers are one obvious example.

Most street hawkers are mobile for the very reason that they often lack permits to do what they do and business is largely dictated by the ebbs and flows of the construction work day. Hence, they would appear at regimented times unless deterred by police patrols which have stepped up as the Expo nears.

Every day, mobile food hawkers gather outside construction sites all over Shanghai to feed the armies of workers at the break of dawn and return at lunch to do the same.

Like construction workers in Shanghai, mobile street hawkers tend to be poorer migrant labor also from outside of the city.

They are often seen pushing, on foot or bicycling, huge wooden carts containing their portable stoves and cooking paraphernalia. The assembly process is deft and practised. Heat up the vat of oil or hot plate and lay out base foods and an array of condiments.

For the street hawker, the business day starts painfully early and if they take on the late night snack shift, the hours tend to blur together.

October 2009




Follow me

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Flickr
  • RSS Feed

All rights reserved

Please do not use content from this website without the author's permission.

Blog translated

EnglishFrenchGermanItalianPortugueseRussianSpanish

Subscribe to the blog