Well as always, I have more words than Nathan in regards to our recent seafood dining adventure. So we arrive at the restaurant, and the hostess seats us at a table. Somehow through broken Chinglish (remember, we are no longer at the hotel, we are in a Certified Squinty Eyed Only kind of establishment) we get some dishwater tea to our table. That's good for starters. Then the whole host of waitresses just wander past our table, looking at us like a bunch of Dumb Round Eyes. And they look, and we wait, and they stare, and we wait. We soon begin to realize that we must be doing something wrong. Finally I sign out the word for “menu” and a few minutes later a glorious picture menu appears at our table. Well, isn't that nice. You know, sometimes you don't want to know what your food looks like in advance. I just tried to pick some kind of meat that didn't come with the head attached, whereas Scott and Jennifer went for the whole hog, or shall I say “fish”. I tried ordering some Korean pork that looked tame, but as soon as I said those words, the waitress very animatedly started spouting some Mandarin at me, making it obvious that I ordered the wrong thing. The good news is, we were able to order some fried rice, because as everyone knows: If all else fails, there's always fried rice.

Soon we were brought a couple of appetizers (that we didn't order) that we could only guess were some kind of pickled knuckles from a squid. No kidding, the crunch was so loud we could hear each other across the room. I ate two knuckles before my Gag Reflex kicked in. But moving right along.

We enjoyed our roasted suckling pig (skin, fat, and all) and eventually the fish came to join us for dinner. It isn't every day that your food stares back at you. Ahhh, China.

It wasn't until we were leaving the restaurant that we noticed the seafood 'market' next door. After much guffawing, pointing, gagging, and picture taking (such foreigners!), it finally dawned on us that we were supposed to start at the market, pick out our animal (most of them still living), and then be seated to eat. Silly Americans. Just when we finally get used to how this place works, it's time to leave.

Crocodile, anyone?

And my favorite menu item – I mean – you CAN'T make this stuff up!!