Kristen and Keke (photo courtesy of Kristen)

Kristen, a white Christian girl from America, never thought she’d marry someone different from her. But then she met a Christian man from China on a road trip, a man who would bring her unexpected love and blessings. 

—–

I always wanted to end up with someone different from me, but would that ever actually happen? I was pretty cynical.

Instead, I pictured myself ending up with someone who, like me, had grown up in small town New Hampshire his whole life. The people I met at college were all basically male versions of myself: native New Hampshirites of French and Irish heritage. That’s when I decided to make a voyage to Italy to study abroad — and, perhaps, meet someone there.

At the same time, life seemed to be taking me to the Midwest. I found myself on my way to St. Louis, Missouri for a large Intervarsity Christian conference called Urbana. Of course, sitting beside me in our van was this random guy from China, who I ended up talking to about my plans to travel to Italy, as well as everything else we could think to share with each other. Conversation flowed easily despite my shyness and his imperfect English. I never mentioned the part about finding my man in Italy, but I was secretly hoping that this guy wasn’t developing feelings for me.

I went to Italy, but only stayed two weeks before making the tumultuous trip back to the U.S. I missed my family and friends so much it felt like my heart was being stretched out across the Atlantic Ocean. At that point, my dreams to do international missions seemed flushed down the toilet. I figured if I was so lonely after only two weeks in Europe, how could I ever live in Africa as a missionary?

Then that May, I was reunited with my Chinese road trip companion at a Campus Crusade meeting. The next day happened to be my friend Sam’s 21st birthday, and she invited him to her day-long party that included laser tag and going out for drinks. Afterwards, I found myself coming home to some strange and unfamiliar feelings towards this Chinese guy — that maybe I could really like him.

That summer, he became part of my close group of friends and we did everything together, from spending a day at the beach to wasting an evening at Wal-Mart. Though I had deep and genuine feelings for him, I still didn’t believe anything would come of it. He was four years older than me, a graduate student working on his master’s degree, while I was going into my senior year as an undergrad. Plus, we came from two opposite ends of the Earth. Before, when we first met on that road trip to St. Louis, I feared he was falling in love with me. By then, I doubted he even saw me as anything beyond just a friend. But I so enjoyed the excitement of liking him and decided not to worry what would happen. How I wished that summer would last forever.

That July, he mentioned over lunch that he loved this lady, but wasn’t sure what to do because she lived in New Hampshire and he planned to move to Wisconsin in a few months for school. I assumed he referred to some Chinese woman who I’d never met, but he had known for his entire three years of school at the University of New Hampshire. After all, if he meant me, he would have said so.

I felt disappointed, but we were spending the whole day together in Boston and I didn’t want my feelings to get me down. I still felt honored he would share his deepest feelings with me, as if I were his younger sister. I felt so close to him and optimistically mused to myself that perhaps, once he finished with school in Wisconsin, he would come back and maybe something would happen then.

Later that day, while at the beach, I shamelessly devoured a large bowl of coffee ice cream he had bought for me. While my mouth was full of ice cream and he happened to be loading things into the trunk of his car, he suddenly turned to me and said, “You know I like you, right?”

At that moment, he was the most adorable creature I’d ever seen, and I was probably the most excited girl on the face of the Earth. I ran around the parking lot, squealing so loudly that the whole of New England probably knew what was happening. He just stood by his car the entire time, patiently waiting for me to calm down and smiling shyly. I talked non-stop the entire drive home, letting him know I’d liked him since Sam’s birthday party and blushing every time he lifted my hand up to his lips and kissed it gently.

Since then, much has happened including two road trips to Wisconsin, a trip to Florida, an engagement, and three weeks in China. The most amazing thing is that falling in love with him and surviving a full week longer in China than I did in Italy rekindled my dreams of doing missionary work overseas.

I never expected any of this. But I thank God for blessing me with such a wonderful guy and for not giving up on my dreams of international missions. I’m extremely excited to see what our next step will be, and can’t wait to marry him this coming July.

Kristen expected to marry an Italian guy and move to North Carolina. Life decided to take her in a slightly different direction.

—–

How did you meet? Why do you love him/her (or Chinese men/Western women)? How two different people “complete each other” in unexpected ways? We’re looking for a few good stories from Chinese men and Western women in love to share on Fridays. Submit your original story or a published blog post today.

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3. Double Happiness: The Accidental Online Dater

Double Happiness: A Chinese-American Christian Love Story | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

(photo by Johanna Ljungblom)

When you’re facing hard times as a couple, people say all kinds of things. “Hope it gets better.” “Stay strong.” “You’ll be okay.”

And then, there’s what my so-call friend told me back in December, after I told her about the discrimination against John, and how I supported him.

“So you’re standing by him? Wow, you’re so loyal.”

You’re so rude, I wanted to tell her. I also wanted to slap her across the table, but it was a holiday party and that sort of thing doesn’t go well with gingerbread and hot apple cider.

“Why wouldn’t I be? He’s my husband and I love him,” I finally said as I glowered at her.

From her perspective, “for better or for worse” just didn’t apply to us. She might as well have said, “You should have married a white man,” because that’s exactly what I heard hidden within her words — that when a white woman chooses to marry someone outside her race, in my case a Chinese man, she should throw in the towel when she faces something she’d never face with a white husband.

Please.

Maybe my marriage meant I’d know different hardships than the average white woman with a white husband. But I never sat around calculating these things like a cold statistician, or treating marriage like a business deal. So what if John is Chinese, and that exposes him to discrimination? Love just happened with John, and it’s a love that means more to me than anything in the world, a love that sustains me in the face of our challenges.

Then again, maybe she was just jealous to see that hardship wouldn’t break us apart. After all, she already divorced her first white husband, and was now on white husband number two. Too bad I didn’t tell her this: “I guess marrying white is no guarantee.”

Have people ever suggested you shouldn’t have gone into an interracial and/or cross-cultural marriage?

Possibly Related Posts:

1. On Discrimination and Marriage to a Chinese Man
2. My Chinese Husband’s Cousin, Looking For a Western Wife to Brag About
3. Ask the Yangxifu: How to Introduce Your (Western) Girlfriend to Your (Chinese) Parents

I Stand By My Man, And Yes, He’s Chinese | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

After her recent dating experiences in China, a woman wonders, should she expect Chinese men to have higher numbers of sexual partners and/or experience with prostitutes? (photo, a still of a sex scene from "Lust, Caution," from http://www.guardian.co.uk)

Anonymous asks:

I read your piece about dating pasts and Chinese men, but I have been having the opposite experience. I have dated some Chinese men in China. On each occasion as I became closer with the respective guy I was dating at the time, discussion of sexual history came up. Each had a fairly sizable number of partners (into double digits) and/or they had had sex with a prostitute. All other things considered, these were nice guys who treated me respectfully and didn’t seem to be players. I appreciated their truthfulness, but their sexual history combined with often poor sexual health practices (I blame poor sex-ed) kept me from becoming physically involved with any of them. My questions are these:

Are the men I’m meeting just outliers, or are higher numbers of  sexual partners increasingly common among Chinese men in their 20s?

Could Westernization partially account for the higher number of partners?

—-

I’ve met my share of bad boys in China. The guy who flirted with me, but had a fiancee. One college student who boasted of how many women he slept with, another who visited prostitutes. Even among my husband’s friends, one guy used QQ to score one night stands, and another who taught college slept around with one student after another.

And let’s not forget all of those articles we’ve all read — from college students in China shacking up in rent-by-the-hour hotels to how premarital sex is okay with most young Chinese.

But that doesn’t mean players — and those with prostitutes in their past — are the new norm in China.

James Farrer, one of the few scholars out there studying sexuality in China, recently put out a study about premarital sex, summarized on Chinashmina. Here are some highlights:

For Chinese young adults the requirement for having sex is the comparatively high level of commitment in relationships. It is most usually expressed through promises “to work hard, buy a house, or take the other traveling or as vows, such as I‘ll love you forever or I‘ll make you happy for a lifetime”. Even if these promises haven’t been voiced, there is often a mutual commitment to the common future.

Premarital sexual relationship, however, does not automatically qualify as engagement and Chinese accept that “sometimes things don’t work out.”

…

Many Chinese interviewees in Farrer’s research expressed the opinion that sex is appropriate only for people who have almost finished their education and are economically independent.

It is probably the result of relative intolerance of Chinese education institutions towards the intimacy (dating) between students.

Of course, Farrer only published his paper based on interviews with a small sample of people in Shanghai (111 interviews total) and the interviews happened between 2002 and 2007. But he’s still respected in the field and his findings make sex in China look relatively conservative.

So does this post from Middle Kingdom Life on sex and Chinese women:

In the context of such a linear and rapid path to coupling in China, it should be readily apparent that casual sex is virtually non-existent here for all but highly Westernized girls and those born and raised in Beijing, Shanghai and, to a lesser extent, Guangzhou. Although social mores in this regard are slowly changing, it would not be unusual to find even a 30-year old virgin in China for—although it doesn’t mean very much in the West—virginity at marriage, still to this day, means something in China, very much so. In a study conducted by the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences, 60 percent of 500 single men and women between the ages of 20 and 30 years, living in 25 neighborhoods, reported that virginity is a marriage requirement, while only 16.5 percent claimed that it didn’t matter (People’s Daily, 2003).

Yes, the page is getting dusty (I think they wrote this in 2007), but I don’t think it’s off the mark even for 2012. Notice the asterisk they put on their take on sex in China — that it doesn’t apply to highly Westernized girls or those born/raised in one of the three big cities in China. Which makes me think, chances are you’ve met the kind of highly Westernized guys or locals from one of the big cities, guys that do sex differently from the majority.

But this still doesn’t explain why you ended up finding so many of these guys. I have a theory, though — the “foreign women are sluts” stereotype. It took me years before I realized that I attracted more sexually “open” Chinese men, often guys that I never would have expected to have a player side to them.

Fortunately, though, China still has plenty of good guys to go around. I snagged myself one, who says you won’t too?

What do you think? What’s your take on this question?

—–

Do you have a question about life, dating, marriage and family in China/Chinese culture (or Western culture)? Every Friday, I answer questions on my blog. Send me your question today.

Possibly Related Posts:

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3. Ask the Yangxifu: Chinese Boyfriend Never Plans Our Dates

Ask the Yangxifu: Chinese Men, Sex and Prostitution | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

My Chinese father-in-law was surprised to hear we had no time off -- but he's never known a world without Chinese New Year, like I have.

“Will you have time off for Chinese New Year?” Even though my father-in-law had retired more than 10 years before, he asked this question to us this past Saturday night with all of the wonder of a young child during the holidays.

“No, the semester already started,” John said.

“They gave us vacation for Christmas, not for Chinese New Year,” I added. “Christmas is the big holiday in America.”

“Oh,” my father-in-law said, with a voice that dropped off in surprise.

But he’s not alone. Every time we’ve called our Chinese friends back in Hangzhou, the “vacation during Chinese New Year” idea invariably sneaks into the conversation. And every time we tell them, no, there is no such thing in the US, they answer with astonishment.

Why wouldn’t they? My father-in-law and my husband’s friends in China all grew up in a world where everyone celebrated Chinese New Year. For them, the holidays meant tables stacked with all of the stir-fried delicacies they dreamed of all year long, family, red envelopes for the kids, and a blitzkrieg of fireworks all over town.

When I finally experienced Chinese New Year for the first time in 2002, even I was taken aback by its fire and ferocity. Where was this festival and why had I missed it my entire life?

So now here we are in the Mountain West, in a world where Chinese New Year is nothing more than a flicker, where everyone is far more worried about the big American football championship at the end of the month. Still, I made a dinner of spring rolls, eight-treasures rice, red-braised pork, homestyle tofu, and bok choy with shiitake mushrooms. We toasted to an auspicious year of the dragon as “Descendants of the Dragon,” sung by Wang Lee Hom, echoed in the background.

Now, if only we had a little vacation for Chinese New Year.

(Happy Year of the Dragon!)

For those of you growing up with Chinese New Year, were you surprised when you discovered it wasn’t celebrated everywhere? For those of you who discovered Chinese New Year later on, were you surprised you never delighted in in this holiday before?

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There’s No Vacation for Chinese New Year in America | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

Red envelope, hongbao, lai see -- whatever you call them, remember, at Chinese New Year, these are more for kids, not your boyfriend or girlfriend.

D asks:

I’m dating a cute Cantonese boy, although he was born in Canada himself (along with his brother), his parents are from China. His parents are pretty strict about him dating period, never mind dating a white girl like myself.

Chinese New Year is coming up, and I know it’s a time where the older give to the younger. As I’m older than my boyfriend by a few years, would it be odd if I had gotten him one of the special lai see envelopes with money in it? Or is that just strictly family related?

—–

During Chinese New Year, I always saw the dragon’s share of hongbao (the Mandarin term for lai see) go from parents and grandparents to the smallest members of the family — like the “treasured grandson,” my nephew. Even though my father-in-law would save a red envelope for me and my husband, I knew one thing for certain. Hongbao/lai see at Chinese New Year — these are for kids.

Don’t even think about slipping your boyfriend a red envelope — it’s the gifting equivalent of asking him to sit at the children’s table.

Instead, try a more grown-up approach to gift-giving: new clothing. Many Chinese will start the first day of the new year off in auspicious style with a completely new, never-before-worn set of clothes. You don’t have to go as far as something new from head to toe, as my mother-in-law does. But you could pick him up, say, a nice shirt or sweater, or some socks.

Still, the envelopes should remind you of one thing. If you buy him clothing, get it in red.

Happy Chinese New Year! 龙年快乐!

What do you think? What advice do you have?

Do you have a question about life, dating, marriage and family in China/Chinese culture (or Western culture)? Every Friday, I answer questions on my blog. Send me your question today.

Possibly Related Posts:

1. Ask the Yangxifu: How to impress your Chinese boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) family during Chinese New Year
2. Chapter 45: Paying Respects and Pondering Family
3. Chapter 42: New Clothes for Chinese New Year

Ask the Yangxifu: Chinese New Year Red Envelopes For Boyfriend? | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

At Watson's in China, a little personal shopping got too personal when I decided to stock up on condoms. (photo by Calvin Teo from wikimedia.org)

“Your Personal Store.” That’s the tagline for Watson’s, the most popular pharmacy/drugstore shop in Asia and my go-to in China for so many health and beauty items I need. But after my experience this summer, I began to wonder if Watson’s wasn’t becoming “Your A Little Too Personal Store.”

Last summer, I lived mostly with my in-laws and visited Hangzhou or Shanghai only a few times. For me, that meant no Watson’s conveniently just around the corner or a short bus, subway or taxi ride away. So when I saw a Watson’s, I would sometimes kick into “storage mode.” That meant buying some extra peppermint hand wipes, another bottle of Johnson’s Baby Wash (for my sensitive skin), and, say, some more Durex condoms.

I’m a married woman, and yes, I wanted to replenish my condom stash. I sure couldn’t do it in my Chinese husband’s rural village, which probably sold those dodgy ones with what always looked like adult movie stills printed on the package. On this day in question, I still stayed with him in his rented room in Shanghai for a few more days, we’d have a few weeks or so together at the end of the summer before returning to the US, and what we didn’t use, we could always take home. Yes, condoms would definitely come in handy.

But I’d have to go alone on this one. “It’s easier for you,” John said. “They expect foreigners to buy these things.”

I couldn’t deny the truth in what he said — that many Chinese believed foreigners, especially foreign women, were so much more “open” about sex. Sure, I liked sleeping with my husband, and wasn’t afraid to say so. But that didn’t make me some foreign Jezebel ready to screw on the spot. Besides, I couldn’t hide in China — people noticed me everywhere as a foreigner, and that meant they might even notice my purchase even more.

“But people will stare at me, it will be so embarrassing,” I said.

He flashed me one of those “go-get-’em” smiles, and said, “You have self-efficacy, you can do this.” Then he patted me on the shoulder. That was all his way of saying, there’s no way in hell I will buy the condoms.

Okay, then.

While John stayed with our shopping bags, I marched through the mall until I found that Watson’s logo lit up in white lights over that teal signage, the bright pastel lights around the periphery, and the pink tags in the aisles. Well, if his objections had to do with the store itself — which looked like it could emasculate any man who dared to shop alone in its borders — I could understand.

I darted through the aisles, to the back of the store, and sure enough, I found an entire wall of shelves stuffed with every kind of Durex condom imaginable. I saw all of these varieties they didn’t even sell in the US — all sorts of flavors, colors, textures. I reached for two, three boxes of them. Maybe I should buy more, maybe eight for good luck?

But then I saw a woman standing nearby who looked as old as my mother-in-law, smiling right at me and wearing a Watson’s name tag.

If you’ve never shopped at Watson’s, you should know that the store crawls with these assistants who help you find anything you’re looking for. I’ve always been an “I’m just looking” kind of shopper. I’d rather find it on my own than have someone tell me what to buy, and then wonder why I chose something else or decided not to buy after all. But these assistants seemed to have “lady laowai” magnets, because every time I went into a Watson’s I couldn’t avoid them — certainly not today.

“Here, you should try this one,” the woman said as she pulled a large red box of condoms off the shelf.

It was called “Pleasure Pack,” and it even had a flame on the packaging — not the sort of thing I imagined getting from a woman with the same dyed black hair and polyester pants like my mother-in-law. She’s not my mother-in-law, she’s not my mother-in-law. At least, that’s what I told myself.

I nodded at her, put the box in my basket, and tried hard to keep my gaze on the merchandise, instead of her curious eyes.

But she pulled another box of condoms off the shelf, something called “Jeans.” Then she said, “This one, it’s good.”

At least she kept her comments simple. I’d have hated for her to tell me, “That one has nice latex,” or, “The apple tastes better than the strawberry.”

She hovered over me the entire time I stood there choosing my condoms, so I picked the rest of my boxes fast (which came to eight), grabbed that extra toothbrush I needed, and dashed over to the register to pay.

I pushed my basket over to the girl behind the cash register. She swiped each box one after another and loaded them quickly into a Watson’s plastic bag. Maybe too quickly? She looked at the register again, wrinkled her brow, and said, “Sorry, I have to recount these.”

So she dumped the condoms out and tried swiping them again. But she still wasn’t satisfied, and tossed them on the counter, and swiped them a third time.

By then, two or three other store assistants migrated over to the register and hovered around to see what was going on — including my condom-pushing mother-in-law lookalike. With every moment, my face started to resemble all the red on that “Pleasure Pack,” with none of the fun.

Finally, the store manager, a young thirtysomething man in a shirt and tie, walked over and shooed the girl away from the register. He then emptied the bag on the counter for everyone to see again. Well, thank god he swiped them right the first time. He took my cash and then handed my receipt and change with my bag.

As for me, I never walked out of a Watson’s faster.

“What a scene,” I said to my husband long after we left that mall. “Recounting the condoms, all the people staring at me. It’s like they kept messing up on purpose.”

“I think they were so embarrassed, they couldn’t focus, so they had to count the condoms over.”

“So it’s not because they were curious about the foreign woman buying so many condoms?”

“No, not really.”

Well, good to know I wasn’t the only embarrassed one.

Have you ever bought condoms at Watson’s or somewhere in China? What’s been your experience?

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1. The Personal Side of Solving Personal Problems in China
2. Chapter 75: Buying Amway in China
3. Ask the Yangxifu: Staring in China at Couples of Chinese Men-Western Women

Getting Personal When Buying Condoms at Watson’s China | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

I'm finally on Sina Weibo/新浪微博, so what are you waiting for? Follow me.

Okay, it’s taken me long enough — and a little prodding from fans — but I did it. I now have an active account on the microblogging site Sina Weibo, also known as 新浪微博 （xīnlàngwēibó). My username is speakingofchina, and you’re welcome to follow me here. Besides content from this site, I also hope to share Chinese-language news related to love, family and relationships.

I’m a complete newbie here, so I welcome any suggestions too. See you on Sina!

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Follow Me On Sina Weibo | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

Accomplished Chinese food writer and yangxifu Carolyn J. Phillips talks with me about food and what it takes to charm your Chinese family at the table. (photo from zesterdaily.com)

A few weeks ago, Carolyn Phillips wrote this to me:

Food is such an integral part of Chinese culture that it’s really hard to fit into a Chinese family if one isn’t adept at the cuisine. I suppose this is true to some extent with any country, but the Chinese are probably on par with the French and Italians when it comes to the importance of dining well. 

This is probably doubly important when a yangxifu doesn’t speak Chinese fluently but still hopes to be accepted. Have your readers talked much about this? I truly feel that the old saw about the way to a man’s stomach etc is gospel for us yangxifu.

Carolyn should know — she’s a yangxifu who devoted her adult life to mastering the art of Chinese cooking. She blogs about food at Out to Lunch and tweets about it as @MadameHuang. She’s also working on two forthcoming books on the subject — “Simple Pleasures from a Chinese Kitchen: Authentic Seasonal Recipes from Every Region of China” and “Culinary Goddesses: The Women Who Changed Our Dining Landscape… Recipes Included.” — and is a regular contributor writing about Chinese food for Zester Daily. In addition, she’s even fluent enough in Mandarin to do court interpreting.

In any event, Carolyn has discovered a thing or two about what it takes to woo a Chinese family that truly loves to eat through food. So I sat down with her — from one yangxifu to another — to talk about all things related to food and Chinese family. As Chinese New Year approaches, it’s a topic that will come in handy for lots of readers.

Just be warned, Carolyn mentions a lot of delicious Chinese food with links to her recipes — you may not want to read this one on an empty stomach.

—–

Carolyn Phillips and her husband, J.H. Huang.

How did food play a role when you were dating your husband?

Oh my. My first dinner for my boyfriend was a disaster. It was the only Chinese food I knew how to make – egg foo yung, sweet-and-sour pork, fried rice – and it is a wonder he didn’t fly out the door.Fortunately for me, he nibbled at it politely and then took me out to buy me my first Chinese-language cookbook. Of course, I could barely read from it way back then, so he made some really delicious things out of it, like a braised duck that fell apart at the first touch. That dish was exquisite, and I soon just hovered over him and gradually took over.

I’ve also been fortunate in that while J.H. has a good palate, he’s not a picky eater. Over the years he’s managed to swallow more than his share of dog’s breakfasts, and I love him for that.

We spent all of our courtship time in Taipei, which in the late 1970’s was probably the center of the Chinese culinary universe. When the Nationalists left the Mainland for Taiwan in 1949, most of the great chefs fled, too. And while some settled in Hong Kong, Europe, America, or Japan, it seems that the lion’s share went to Taipei.

Prior to the mid-70’s, though, Taiwan was anything but wealthy. This was, after all, where transistor radios and cheap clothes came from, and it was not until a huge industrial boom and the tech revolution took place that people in Taiwan had the money to pursue fine dining.

I was therefore in the right place at the right time.

So, as over the course of our relationship, my then-boyfriend showed me what good Chinese food really was and turned me into a genuine foodie by feeding me superb Shanghainese cuisine, hearty noodles and beef from the Islamic northwest, delicate dishes from Fujian and Zhejiang, tasty seafood from his mother’s home town of Tianjin, and the delightful favorites of his father’s Hakka people.

Then, I got a job as an editor/translator for two major cultural institutions, where the directors were gourmands. They wanted me along on all of their feasts because of their many foreign guests. I was thus paid to eat the best China had to offer… how much better in life does it get? And then I came back home and cooked from memory.

That is how I learned about Chinese food and that is how my husband came to love my cooking.

Tell us about your first experience cooking for your Chinese family. How did it go and what did you learn from it?

I don’t really remember the first time I cooked for them… it was over three decades ago! But I do recall that each person had favorite dishes I would make for them.

My mother-in-law was very homesick for Tianjin style food, and there were no such restaurants in Los Angeles, so I pumped her for recollections of the foods she had eaten as a child.

Wowotou'er

One of them was the little steamed cornmeal thimbles known as wowotou’er; I had eaten them before in Taipei, so I figured out how to make them. They were a big hit alongside some Tianjin style fish and her favorite prawns. She had also mentioned how much she missed the wowotou’er made with chestnut flour, so I experimented and made those, too. I don’t think she ever got over that first bite because it was like her childhood had been returned to her on a plate.

My brother-in-law has always adored heavy flavors, and he flipped over the stir-fried chicken livers I made for him. From then on, that was a dish he constantly requested, and I could count on him to devour at least half of the platter.

My father-in-law had an enormous sweet tooth, and he especially loved those that were sticky in texture, so I would make him things like Malay cake, rolling donkeys, and water chestnut pudding whenever we came to visit.

Others preferred Taiwanese dishes, and some wanted nothing but fried chicken (Chinese or American… it didn’t matter!). Whatever it was, I made sure to have it ready so that they felt pampered.

I often tell people that I built a relationship with my mother-in-law by asking her to teach me some of her recipes. Have you also done the same with your family?

Tianjin-style fish

Oh yes. However, the cook in my husband’s family was not his mother, but his father. A retired Air Force colonel, my father-in-law was a very gifted cook who created Hakka specialties for us, especially on Chinese New Year.

I would try to help him, but he was always so slow and precise that we soon lost patience with each other. That did not keep me from hanging around and studying his secrets, though!

With such a large number of individualists in the family, we used to create favorite foods in our own kitchens and then bring them together for family celebrations; less stress and lots more happy diners that way.

Another thing that I have tried to do over the years is to adapt American traditional foods to Chinese tastes. This has resulted in holiday feasts that the whole family can enjoy.

What Chinese food-related dos and don’ts do you wish someone had told you before you married your husband?

Malay cakes

That Chinese food is not all that hard to make.

That it is not simply an assortment of stir-fries.

That there is not one monolithic Chinese cuisine, but rather that it is a patchwork of stellar cuisines, each delicious in its own way and yet also very different.

It took me ages to open up my eyes to the incredible incarnations that Chinese cuisine assumes. I learned to eat real Chinese food during my first years in Taiwan, so I had originally assumed that Taiwanese food equaled Chinese food.

That was simply not the case! Trips to Hong Kong instilled a love for glorious Cantonese dishes with their sublime simplicity and for the divine seafood of Chaozhou, up near Fujian province.

And after my boyfriend took me under his wing, we ate subtle dishes from northern Fujian, cinnamon-flavored jiaozi from a Chinese Muslim stall, richly flavored pork dishes served up by cranky old soldiers from Jiangsu, refined vegetarian meals at Buddhist temples, and savory snacks in the many night markets.

You see, opening up your mouth to real Chinese food is all about opening up your mind. I wish someone had told me that.

We nibbled on braised duck tongues while watching kung fu movies, ate mountains of eels, worked out way through enormous sea cucumbers, and cooked our own pig heads. None of this had ever even figured as food to me before. But I ate and I learned and I enjoyed just about everything.

But what I really want to get across is this: the way to learn about China is through its food. First you have to understand and appreciate it, and then you have to cook it yourself. This opens so many doors, not only to new friends, but to new places in your mind.

China and her foods are as intrinsically intertwined as France and her cuisines. You simply cannot love China without loving her way of preparing ingredients. And you can’t love her food without exploring all of the permutations in this vast, virtually unexplored cuisine. Her food even teaches you about history, if you care to listen.

My husband has become more adventurous in terms of eating over the years, but his stomach still prefers Chinese. But I can’t eat Chinese all the time — it got to the point where the two of us now eat separate things during lunch, so I can get my non-Chinese-food fix. Have you ever had similar clashes at the family table — and if so, how did you solve them?

Beijing-style smoked chicken

I am very fortunate in that my husband has always loved Western food and actually prefers coffee to tea!

That is not to say that he wouldn’t pick Chinese food over Western for every meal if he had his druthers. He even has made a joke of it: Mei jiangyou, mei weidao (no soy sauce, no flavor).

But he does love to eat, and he has developed a real love for many Western cuisines, and I think he could probably live quite happily on French food for the rest of his life if he got a hit of soy sauce every once in a while. It all comes down to whether or not it is well made food.

So, what I’ve done over the years is to cook and learn from the masters, like Madeleine Kamman, Julia Child, and Patricia Wells for French, Claudia Roden and Paula Wolfert for Mediterranean, Marcella Hazan for Italian, Deborah Madison and Mollie Katzen for vegetarian, James Beard and Marion Cunningham for American. You just can’t go wrong with them, and even the most persnickety eater will soon surrender to these perfect recipes

The secret is to make Western foods that appeal to the same preferences your fiancé/husband has in Chinese dishes. Does he like spice? Noodles? Rice? Eggs? Lots of meat or vegetables? These are all clues to making Western dishes that pass muster.

I will point out that I have made it very clear to my family that I’m not a short order cook, and whatever comes out of the kitchen is what is being served. That being said, I do more or less cater to their tastes. But then again I love Chinese food, and as far as I’m concerned, I could live on Chinese food for the rest of my days… as long as I got a hit of stinky cheese and red wine on regular occasions.

Could you share some of your favorite recipes you turn to when you want to impress your Chinese family?

Yin-yang sesame soup

Certainly!  By Chinese family, though, I include my wonderful circle of Chinese friends. In fact, I strongly recommend that any yangxifu or yangnüxu have a supportive cast of Chinese pals, as they will provide the good feedback that sometimes is missing with in-laws.

One thing we like to do for Chinese New Year is host a huge jiaozi wrapping party [link]. This is a great way for Chinese family and friends to celebrate the biggest traditional holiday together, especially if you don’t live in China.

My smoked chicken is always a big winner at any gathering, since everyone loves smoked meats yet few people make it at home. However, this really is little more than a steamed whole chicken seasoned in an easy-to-make home smoker.

Breads of all stripes get rave reviews, again because not that many people tackle them. However, once you make your own silver thread rolls or fried sesame rolls, you will find how deceptively easy they are. Or cook up something few people have heard of: Tianchang’s sugared fried bread, which is also very simple and delectable. Any of these will make your reputation.

Chinese sweet soups are not at all difficult, but when you give them a Wow presentation, you have set yourself up for stardom. Check out the recipe for yin yang sweet sesame soup to see what I mean.

Brined eggs are another item that is not really cooking at all, but just a matter of placing fresh eggs in salted water for two weeks. Again, it looks impossibly hard, but it’s a no-brainer.

And if you really want to show off, create your own fermented rice. Honestly, if I make one thing that blows people’s minds, it is this. But making it is no more difficult than steaming some rice, tossing it with a yeast mixture, and letting it bubble away. No magic, no hard work. Just perfect homemade rice wine every time.

And this is one thing you will have in your favor: even Chinese people think that Chinese food is difficult. But the secret is, it’s not!

Just don’t tell your mother-in-law that and let her think that you are one heck of a catch.

If someone is new to Chinese cooking but wants to make a good impression on their Chinese relatives, how should they proceed?

Sichuan's icicle radish pickles

This all depends upon where your in-laws come from and what your tastes are; some people love spice, for example, and others shy away from chilies; some people are diabetic or love salty things or are finicky eaters. So, in this regard, feeding your Chinese relatives is just like cooking for any guests: know their preferences and cook accordingly.

When you are just beginning to cook Chinese food and are not yet completely confident, make something simple and practice it at home a few times to adjust the seasonings and get used to the way in which Chinese food is made.

Fortunately, stir-frying is just one way to prepare Chinese food, although many cookbooks would have you think otherwise! This means you can make a dish ahead of time and either serve it cold or heat it up just before dinner.

A couple tips for avoiding disaster:

• Make something that is authentically Chinese. This means no neon red sweet-and-sour pork or Chinese chicken salad. You want them to be in total awe of your chops and nothing less.

• Start out with uncomplicated foods and slowly work your way up to the fancier stuff. You’ll be less stressed out as a result, which will show in your food. If you are confident and proud of the dish, this will be communicated to your diners, and the food will taste much better as a result.

• Use your fiancé/husband as your guinea pig. Feed him some things you’ve made, watch his reactions, and ask for suggestions. Write them down and adjust your recipes accordingly. He will be pleased that you are seeking his advice (or at least he should be), and he most likely reflects the taste preferences of his family.

• Practice, practice, practice.

Here are a couple of really easy dishes to make ahead of time when you want to make a good impression: Sichuan’s icicle radish pickles, drunken soybeans, northern style stewed peanuts, small rice paste balls, and crystal lychees.

When you feel more comfortable, move on to other things that you again can prepare over and over again until they become part of your repertoire, like a silky steamed custard, a spinach and peanut appetizer, and three-cup chicken.

Clearly, some yangxifu (or yangxifu-to-be) out there either don’t like to cook or struggle with it. What could they do to build goodwill with their Chinese families in the kitchen or at the dinner table?

Jiangsu's drunken soybeans

Well, if you are lucky enough to have a Chinese husband or fiancé who likes cooking and actually is good at it, you’re made in the shade. In that sort of situation, learn to be a good prep cook (washing and peeling veggies, cleaning up, that sort of thing) so that he doesn’t start to resent doing this.Even then, you should start to learn how to cook, if for no other reason than to give him a break and share the load, as well as to make the foods that you personally love. (Of course, the reverse is true: the guy should be the kitchen helper if the woman is the chef, or else he should have other duties that lessen her household burdens.)

If your fiancé/husband excels in the kitchen, or if you have talented in-laws, start learning from them. That’s what I did at the beginning. You might find yourself – like me – entranced by this art.

The best way to ease yourself into this is to read some good English-language resources on Chinese cooking. Most of the out-of-print ones I’ve loved over the years (Barbara Tropp’s The Modern Art of Chinese Cooking, Irene Kuo’s The Key to Chinese Cooking, Florence Lin’s Chinese Regional Cookbook, and Grace Zia Chu’s The Pleasures of Chinese Cooking) all are still worth seeking out and reading from cover to cover. If you have in-laws from Sichuan, or just love central Chinese cuisine, run out and get Fuchsia Dunlop’s Land of Plenty; her recipes are foolproof and fantastic.

And read my blog, Out to Lunch, of course!

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Thanks so much to Carolyn Phillips! Do check out her delicious blog, follow her on twitter, and read her articles at Zester Daily.

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Ask the Yangxifu: Carolyn J. Phillips On Charming A Chinese Family Through Food | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

I'm featured in Beijing Today, and nominated for a Lotus Blossom Award this week.

A couple of quick things I wanted to share with you.

First, the weekly Beijing Today featured me in an article last Friday. I’m late to mention it — this week has been killer — but it’s a nice one and I appreciate the coverage (note, though, I need to ask for a few corrections. For the record, I’m 34 and that older man in one of those photos, he’s my husband’s godfather, not actual father). Here’s a snippet of the article, When an American Girl Meets a Chinese Man:

“Are Jewish women more likely to marry Chinese men? How my anti-Japanese Chinese husband changed his mind about Japan …”

These are among the topics from Jocelyn Eikenburg’s blog Speaking of China, a personal account of how an American woman found love in the Chinese countryside – and the things that happened next in the cross-cultural relationship.

She writes about how she met her husband, a Chinese man from rural Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province with the English name John, in 2002 at an online company in Hangzhou when working.

They met through a mutual friend’s arrangement. Eikenburg fell in love during the summer of that year after John took her out for her birthday.

Check out the full article.

Second, Speaking of China was nominated for a Lotus Blossom Award from My New Chinese Love. If you have a moment and you really dig this blog, show your support — vote for Speaking of China here. And thanks for reading.

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Featured in Beijing Today, Nominated for a Lotus Blossom Award | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国

if my experience means anything, many Chinese still turn to someone to play matchmaker -- even if that someone is just your coworker. (photo by DHSAM from wikimedia.org)

Last summer, I attended the Hangzhou wedding of my good friend Lao Da at the end of May. But it wasn’t until two weeks later — when we met over Dragonwell tea and snacks at a local teahouse — that I learned exactly how he met his new wife.

“We met through a colleague. He happened to be going out to dinner with a group of women who worked at the bank across the street from our office and didn’t want to go alone. So he asked me to come with him.”

“So, it was love at first sight?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t actually contact her until a few weeks later.”

“You didn’t have any special feeling for her then?”

“I had some. But later, my colleague said she had mentioned me, and he wondered if maybe we should date. You know me, I am not so outgoing. So I said I would meet her.”

Of course, Lao Da’s how-we-met story remained uniquely his — just like his geek-chic glasses, ocean-blue Chuck Taylors and funky stonewashed jeans. But I couldn’t help but notice that their story came down to the actions of one person: his colleague. He actually introduced them in a sense, and even encouraged them to get together. When I thought about it, Lao Da’s story felt hardly unique at all — but just another example of informal matchmaking in modern China.

I’ve heard so many stories in China like Lao Da’s. My brother-in-law, Cheng, met his wife Wenjuan through a cousin. Pi Yongjun, a close friend from Henan, found his wife through a colleague. My in-laws got together through the work of their parents. Heck, John and I might not have even dated without the help of our friend Caroline, who schemed to get us together.

Of course, this isn’t matchmaking like John’s ancestors used to know it — the old feudal China where older Yente-like go-betweens made their living on knowing everyone in the village, and staking their reputations on brokering good matches for families. Today, marriages in China don’t need a third party interfering to move forward. But if my experience means anything, many people still turn to someone to find their match — even if that someone is just the guy you share an office with at work.

My question is, how have you experienced informal matchmaking in China? Have your friends ever tried setting you up? Have you set someone up? What do you think of this?

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Matchmaker, Informal Matchmaker | Speaking of China - One Western woman with a Chinese husband writes about love, family and relationships in China 洋媳妇看中国