“There is no food under heaven that can compare with the Hangzhou cuisine.” – Su Dongpo, Song Dynasty poet
Earl Clark respectfully disagrees, Dongpo.
Well, that’s a bit of an inference. Not sure if bailing (after a month) on his new/former team, the Zhejiang Tigers, willing to pay a year’s worth of guaranteed money on grounds of culinary incompatibility is entirely respectful, though I’m sure there was no malice in the decision. In fact, there are probably legitimate, good-natured intentions behind the departure.
But we were spoiled with the initial headline from HoopChina, with the help of Google Translate, which read: “Not used to Chinese food, Clark left the mansions teams”.Â
Of course, the Chinese language is light-years away from English, and there will inevitably be something lost in translation. Perhaps it was a quick and successful snarky bit that us American folk are taking a bit too seriously (and in my case, entirely too seriously). But the troubling/beautiful thing at this juncture is that we may never know. This Earl Clark doesn’t like Chinese food bit has time to brew and mythologize. And I am so ready to add my useless fodder.
If, indeed, Earl Clark didn’t like the food he was getting in the Zhejiang province, here’s a few theories on why not.
1. He doesn’t like bamboo shoots.Â
With the fascination many NBA players seemed to have with pandas during this offseason, one might’ve expected more tolerance with consuming the staple of a panda’s diet. Bamboo shoots are generally tender, but are able to withstand heavy braising to infuse both flavor and a certain mouthfeel, which makes it an absolutely vital ingredient in Zhejiang cuisine, which is heavy on braising/stewing. One of the region’s most essential dishes is bamboo shoots braised in soy sauce and sugar. This might not be the culprit, but when experiencing a new culture, you never know what will strike you as off-putting.
2. Earl isn’t much of a seafood guy.
Zhejiang is known (quite literally) as the “land of fish and rice.” Both play such an important role in the routine diets of this particular region. Being on the easternmost coast of China, there is unlimited access to the East China Sea, which houses myriad types of fish, crabs, and shrimp. Common dishes include hairy crab (a signature dish of Hangzhou, Zhejiang’s capital both politically and culinarily) steamed in soy sauce, vinegar, and ginger, andpoached fish in a sweet and sour vinegar sauce. The acidity of the vinegar is used to highlight the freshness of the seafood, which isn’t a foreign concept, but vinegar is never not an overtly pungent culinary weapon.
3. He didn’t like Dongpo Pork.Â
This isn’t the reason. Just putting that out there. Dongpo Pork is at the epicenter of what makes Zhejiang cuisine one of the eight great cuisines of China. There’s been a resurgence of interest recently with the use of pork belly in America. I blame/commend the foodies. But there might not be a place in the world that does pork belly better than Hangzhou. The meat is cooked upwards of 5-6 hours in a meticulous process that involves three different methods of cooking. The cubes of park is initially boiled.  The cooked pieces of pork are then allowed to cook in a mixture of aged rice wine, soy sauce, ginger, and sugar until the mixture completely reduces and leaves the pork belly with a dark brown color and a glistening sheen. But that’s not the end of the process. Then the pork is steamed until it’s a tender, unctuous cube of greatness unlike anything else. This isn’t the reason, and if it is, I don’t want to know.
