When I lived in Beijing, students hoping to study abroad would travel half a day to a certain shrine, praying to receive an “offer”. They were practicing hieroglossia. That’s because they deemed the shrine’s name; 卧佛寺 similar enough to the English word ”offer” to place their trust in, or hedge their bets on, this place for a few hours of their lives. I was intrigued that students treated it as more than just a joke, more than just an excuse for a jaunt. I was curious about this geomantic...

There are things I might perhaps do differently if I were starting the Strainer column for the first time in 2021. I’m not saying I would be right to do them differently; I’m not saying the results would be better. But let’s scratch that counter-factual itch anyway. For one, I might be tempted to use the “Tea Opinion Leader” moniker. The whole KOL thing hadn’t kicked off in 2016. If starting this gig afresh, the pun might just be irresistible.  Another asset I might feature prominently would be the image of Chinese-tea-in-a-wine-glass.  I’ve...

Now, this may seem a little vulgar. But I beg your patience. I’m here to talk up the pleasures of burping. As the father of a new baby, it’s a proud moment when I bash a burp out of her, especially a good dry one; there are no marks for puking the baby. But I’m here to talk here about the pleasure of the adult burp. You see, food that “repeats” is my kind of food; garlic or jiucai (韭菜) may only be a one-dimensional reminder of a good meal well had, but...

I’ve used this column in the past to vent my criticism of the tea sold in China’s supermarkets. Today’s Strainer marks no retreat. There are usually two locations for tea in the supermarket. There’s the loose tea; often located next to the pickles, stored in a similar way. Those glass jars, containing leaves of indeterminate age, are not the fitting place for happy tea; light is every bit as ravaging for green tea as heat or oxygen. And those unimaginative selections of tea, usually Long Jing , invariably smell as...