I was hesitant to visit a restaurant owned by a Taiwanese pop star. In the US, celebrity-backed ventures are usually failures with seriously bad food. It didn't help that one online reviewer mentioned that the décor was "over the top."

"Really?" I asked my friend, who usually prefers threadbare restaurants where one can feast like a king for next to nothing. He insisted we try, because it was listed on his Beijing map. 

I guess Taiwanese celebs know their food better than their American counterparts. We ended up having a pretty good meal of mostly Yunnan and Guizhou food. One dish I liked in particular were fava beans with Yunnan goat cheese. I had mentioned Yunnan goat cheese before, from a restaurant I have come to despise because of the horribly rude (even for Beijing) service.

Rǔbǐng (乳饼) is the only Chinese cheese I know of that is widely known and popular, at least in China. It's delicious when pan-fried, with a sprinkle of sugar or salt and pepper on top. In the fava bean dish, it was steamed and dressed with a mellow rice wine sauce. Simple, and a great rice accompaniment.

Okay, maybe "love" is an overstatement.

Not long after I filmed the Donghuamen Night Market segment with CBS (but before it aired), I was contacted by KGW, Portland's NBC affiliate. Stephanie Stricklen, the correspondent, wanted to shoot an odd street food story for the Portland area, and of course, I obliged. (According to an online pole, viewers had insisted she try scorpion.) She was also excited to learn that Jacob is an ex-Oregonian, and thus his appearance in the segment.

This KWG clip which aired on August 19th shows both the Donghuamen Night Market and the slightly less tourisy Wangfujing Snack Street.

"Would you like a fork topping to go with your chopsticks?" asked the Swiss waiter.

Leave it to the Swiss to think of inventive alternatives to standard cutlery sets. Jacob and I ate with another friend at the Swiss House last week, one of the few Olympic houses open to the public. On the table when we sat down were fork heads and chopsticks to attach them to.

Nevermind that none of the food on the menu, including fois gras terrine, charcuterie, and spätzle, is typically eaten with chopsticks. They seem to be out simply as chinoiserie, a tiny homage to the host country, perhaps. (Like the orange rice paddy hats some Dutch fans are wearing at their Holland House, except less likely to be misconstrued.) But the novelty kept us amused and snapping photos for the first part of the evening.

I always thought that if I ever tried eating bugs, it would be on a dare, for a ton of money. Then last weekend I found myself at the Donghuamen Night Market with a CBS crew, trying centipedes, silkworms, and other odd critters for a CBS Early Edition segment. (More photos following the video.) 

You can also see the video on CBS's site.)

...is next to impossible, I have discovered. It seems that when eating out during the next two weeks, you need to carry not only a ton of cash, but also a stiff jaw that doesn't drop upon receiving the final bill.

I understand prices always rise during such high-profile events, and I'm sure in Athens, Torino, and Sydney more than a few locals simply stayed home more than usual. But I was ((and still am) determined not to become a hermit during the biggest party in China's 5,000+ years of history. 

So I have sucked it up and tried to forget the almost doubling of prices at my local (albeit quite famous) Peking duck place. And the $12 Carlsberg and $11 Evian on "Sanlitun Super Bar Street" I just attributed to the area being a tourist magnet. But two nights ago we headed to Duck de Chine, an elegant new Peking duck restaurant whose bird a trusted foodie friend said was on par with my current favorite Da Dong's, and about the same price of around 200 RMB ($29) per duck including pancakes and condiments. 

After we got seated, however, we learned that they were only offering 3- to 4-course set menus for the duration of the Olympics, at the equivalent of $124 a person (!!!) In China. For New York prices.

A foodie's guide to Beijing that I wrote and photographed is in this month's Theme, a glossy culture and lifestyle magazine out of Brooklyn. As part of their Olympic issue, they have contributions from a bunch of Beijingers, including gallery recs from the art editor of Time Out Beijing and club recs from the sound engineer of D-22.

If you're in Beijing or plan to go soon, check out the guide, complete with street food introductions, Chinese and Western restaurant recommendations, and photos from Appetite for China. There are also a few recommendations from two other correspondents as indicated by **. I don't vouch for the spots personally, but to each his own taste! Bon appétit, or 干杯 (gan bei).

My August cooking class schedule is now online at The Hutong. This month I'm teaching Cantonese Level 1, Sichuan Level 1, Hunan Level 1, and Vegetarian Chinese. If you have a couple of extra hours in your morning, inbetween attending the Games, watching the Games on TV, or partying with the Dutch at the Heineken House, learn to cook up some Chinese food in a renovated courtyard home!

You can register in advance online at The Hutong or call +86 10 8915 3613.

Jacob and I were invited to dinner at Cepe at the Ritz-Carlton a few days before our trip to Seoul, and it was nice to experience the hotel on the eve of that famous sporting event in August. It seemed that the Financial Street area had yet to receive its influx of tourists, so it was still pretty calm for the time being.

As regular readers may know, I have been pretty obsessed with seafood lately. I'm still doting on my photos of mussels and scallops from the Westin brunch, and obsessively searching for a recipe for seafood stew like the ones I had in Korea. This is because I have been deprived of good seafood since moving to Beijing. Chefs in Guangdong province seem to be blessed by some divine oceanic god; in the north, not so much. So every once in a while, it's nice to visit a restaurant that is able to source good marine life and cook it well.

This big beautiful scallop came on a bed of white asparagus and prosciutto. It was roasted until just done, with maximum tenderness. Rarely during a formal multi-course meal would I want another dish of the same instead of anticipating the next (mild ADD, perhaps?) but in this case I would have jumped at seconds.

When your significant other decides to extend your birthday by suggesting Sunday brunch at the Westin, it's hard to refuse.

Granted, I had a long-time hatred and distrust of buffets. In fact, I revulsed at the thought of them. Buffets reminded me of soul-sucking Vegas vacations and childhood meals out in suburban Massachusetts. My well-meaning but frugal parents even held my college graduation party at a Chinese-style buffet; insisting that the all-you-can-eat platters of strange-flavor beef and California rolls were a "good deal". I would have sooner organized a reception at a Chinatown dai pai dong.

But I digress. 

Beijing's Westin Sunday brunch shattered my belief that buffets were all about quantity over quality. I even went easy at first on the limitless Champagne, so my judgement wouldn't be clouded. It was an exercise in restraint.

The strongest indicator of substance over fluff was the seafood. I piled my plate with lobster, crab legs, jumbo prawns, clams, and the freshest mussels I had tasted in ages. And I doubt I could have found a better seafood bouillabaisse this side of the Caucasus. (For the record, Jacob and I had a very light dinner the night before, and didn't eat any more food for the rest of the day.)  

(Thank you, Chuan Ban)

Maybe it's not just me. Maybe other people also go through a cursed period of dining out, when every restaurant meal makes you want to crawl back to the safety of your own kitchen.

It started with a string of three Vietnamese restaurants. I had been avoiding Vietnamese here for lack-of-authenticity's sake, but recently got an immense craving for pho. Two weeks ago Jacob and I were in Houhai and, for lack of better choices, ate at Nuage, a trendy joint that seemed to care ten times more about décor than food. I won't go into a whole review. But I will say the spring rolls skins were lockjaw-inducing in their toughness. And the cocktails were possibly the worst I have had in China, which is saying a lot. 

The next day I met up with Sandra from Savour Asia for lunch at Le Little Saigon, a new Vietnamese/French restaurant just north of the Drum and Bell Towers. The Vietnamese coffee was what I had been craving for months. But thick well-done flank steak has no place in my ideal bowl of pho. However, I'm such a sucker for good coffee and copies of Le Monde for perusing (in China!) that I just might return.