I’ve been in and out of Asia for six months now for my husband’s work, and across from our current hotel in Shenzhen, China is a Carrefour! Not quite like the ones seen dotting the motorways of the French countryside. This is more of a Walmart cracked out on too much MSG.

Where else could you buy a wheel of French Camembert cheese that comes in a tuna-fish-style-can, or squid ink and bacon bread, as well as a 24-pack of thousand year old eggs or spicy pickled chicken feet right next to blueberry flavored potato chips?

It is a confusing sort of place. The concept of sanitation is quite confounding. Every piece of produce is wrapped tight in plastic: every eggplant, every delicata squash, every grapefruit has been carefully vacuum-sealed for your protection.

Their cellophane sheaths are backed with tags promising in both Mandarin and English that their contents’ is both “delicious and safe” backed by “The Commitments of Quality Line.” A pillar of over-zealous food safety to be sure– until one makes it to the meat department.

Upon first glance everything looks so familiar, waist high refrigerated bins hold a variety of cuts for customer perusal. Pork, Beef and a variety of fowls are kept separated from each other using rows of plastic dividers.

But what’s this? Where are the reassuring foam trays and plastic wrap? The raw flesh is left out in the open for unrestricted inspection.

Customers literally handpick their way through the meats, before passing their selection to the butcher to weigh and package.

There are a few meat options that warrant the rare foam trays and plastic wrapping: bone marrow, tongues and bull penis.

American grocery stores aim to separate their carnivorous customers from any squeamishness of eating animal. But here in China many creatures are sold completely whole (including the feet and head): rabbits, geese, ducks, and chickens are all only missing their skin/feathers.

For some, the whole meats is not fresh enough, so various creatures of the sea are kept alive in the grocery store: eels writhe in a bucket, box turtles swim alongside a variety of fish in over packed aquariums and live crabs are tied tightly together, so as not to walk off their attractive ice display. New levels of fresh!

Dumbfounded I stumble over to the medicinal section, where more wonders await. Attractive displays gleam on gold trays like a high-end candy store.

Though I tried to ask the ladies posted behind the counter– they could not tell me the intended health benefits of deer antlers, dried whole sea-horses, a variety of whole and sliced roots and fungi as well as the ever popular dried chicken toes grouped together in little bouquets.

A bit overwhelmed by the variety of goods for sale, I settle on a package of “strange-taste peanuts crisp,” three mochis of unknown variety and a bottle of guava juice. Now if only they would let me store something in the hotel fridge, then I could pick up some jars of hot sauce to add to my home collection.

[Begin Rant]

Let me show you what has been my main contact with refrigeration for the past six months: the hotel fridge.

It’s more of a locker-sized convenience store that happens to be provided in every hotel room. Each business hotel in Asia seems to be stocked with the exact same list– four cokes (two regular/ two diet); two sprites; four juices (two apple/ two orange); 4 beers (2 local lagers/2 Heinekens); 4 waters- 2 still/2 sparkling; 1 tonic; 1 soda water; and 1 chocolate bar.

Sometimes they get crazy and provide tomato juice instead of apple. Woo.

My own fridge, once so familiar now seems to be an exotic location. I cleared it out before leaving the country but the fridge was still full of too many mustards, the latest bacon-of-the-month-club shipment, three varieties of olives, a world-wide collection of hot sauces, multiple jars of fat (bacon, lard, lamb and duck), Campari, Lillet, an array of micro-brews, prosecco and a few white wines, plus more… but trying to remember is like grasping for the plot of a pleasant dream. Someday we will return to fill the drawers with all manner of stinky cheeses, farm fresh eggs and way more producethan can be reasonably used before spoilage.

All I want is one shelf in the hotel fridge, just one. But the hotels’ housekeeping staff is relentless. It is not enough that the soda cans remain untouched in the room. No, they must stand their ground and maintain post in the fridge. I have free reign of the closet, why not the fridge? If I were to be allowed such liberty, there would be no need to pass up on the impulse purchase of little snacky-bits that have no English translation.

[End Rant]

*When not hopscotching the world, Jessica can be found in her San Francisco kitchen, preparing for the next great house party.