By Yu Hua

A Story of Akvavit

By Yu Hua

I t was in Oslo on the eve of my departure for Stavanger,when my friend Asbjorn invited me out to dinner.Asbjorn is an editor of a Norwegian publishing company,a really humorous guy who always made our interpreter laugh for a while before he could translate—and then was my turn of laughing.As Asbj rn claimed, the meal and alcohol we were going to enjoy would be“authentically Norwegian”.This made me imagine on my way how the restaurant would look like:old color,old style,and a Viking ship displayed in it,perhaps?

It turned out to be a store selling salted fish and meat.Different types of sausages and hams were hung from the ceiling and dried fish was put in the freezer.I thought the restaurant should be further inside;however,the inside part was a tiny office room where I saw computer and file cabinet.Plates of sliced meat and fish fillets,along with several bottles of alcohol had been served on a desk.All these were authentically Norwegian.

The store was owned by a man and his son,and the place was their office. Before we could have dinner,the son had suggested us reading a Norwegian map.The father went out,coming back with a large ham–which was in the shape of Norway.The father pointed by a knife at different parts of the ham,introducing to us the cities of his country:Oslo,Bergen,Stavanger, etc.And then he began to tell us which parts of a pig the served meat was from.After this,his knife moved to point the air near the ham map:that was the ocean surrounding Scandinavia.The fish fillets on the desk were from different seas and he knew all about it.

Then the lecture of geography finished and the instruction of eating began.The son told us that before eating a ham slice,we must rub it with our hands until it got warmer.Can I do thetrick with my armpits?I asked.That's good!Special flavor will be added.He replied.Luckily,neither of us was serious.

The son also told me that as the cold food would chill my stomach in so cold a winter,akvavit made from potato was the best to pair with them. Norwegian people treated this liquor in a unique way:they stored well-made akvavit in oak casks,and then took it to the equator by ship.Thus when the liquor was brought back and served for dinner,it would bring the heat of Africa to your stomach.

I did rub the ham slices with my hands before eating.And I drank akvavit,with small cups,though.The liquor tasted mild but exciting,and it did bring some heat to my esophagus while sliding down through.I ate and drank attentively,when my stomach waiting for the African heat.

Asbjorn enjoyed his meal and wine much less moderately.He told us loudly his early experience of being a vegetarian.Back then he was 20,living in Paris,accompanied by a gorgeous French girlfriend.For over a year he ate no meat or fish,and drank no alcoholic drink.Then he suffered sexual dysfunction.Both he and his girl were freaked out,and they saw doctors thrice.The first and second doctors failed to figure out the cause; the third one examined his daily diet, telling him to eat as much meat and drink as much wine as he could.The therapy was proved to be quite effective.

I finished more cups of akvavit while listening to Asbjorn.Arctic coldness,instead of African heat,possessed my stomach somehow.Worse still,that was a new-type coldness which assaulted you from inside,and I would rather walk into a blizzard to endure the coldness penetrating from outside.

Later I went back to hotel,trembling.I boiled a kettle of water and made myself some hot tea.Two cups of tea warmed my stomach;yet remnant coldness refused to go away even in the next morning.I had good reasons to doubt where the akvavit really had been.Maybe the cask was on a ship whose crew was all drunkards; they were so drunk that Arctic,other than the equator,was taken as the destination.

(FromThe Tremendous Gap Between Us,Beijing October Arts and LiteraturePublishingHouse.Translation: Wang Xiaoke)