Reality Equation

Parag Satyal, a VFX/motion guy in Sydney

Parag Satyal is a VFX/motion guy in Sydney. In fact, he’s a design, art, animation, music, video and technology guy. More importantly, he’s my brother, and he’ll be graduating in July from the Billy Blue School of Design, where he read Multimedia Design.

(Which also means I’ll be traveling to Australia soon; expect more blog posts about food, culture, language and technology down under!)

Here’s his video showreel, demonstrating some of the things he’s worked on and what he’s capable of:

You can also visit his website, where you’ll find a more detailed PDF portfolio and his current résumé. If you’re looking for a vfx/motion guy in the Sydney area, you know where to find one!

Olympus E-P1: Does it travel?

Olympus recently announced the digital PEN EP-1, a new Micro Four Thirds camera that’s got the photography world talking (and drooling). For me, the appeal of an interchangeable-lens camera like the EP-1—you can’t quite call this thing an SLR, because it doesn’t have the mirror that ’single-lens reflex’ refers to—is the thought of having all that control in a package that can travel with you.

(Photo by bfishshadow)

The super compact I bought before my China trip, the Panasonic Lumix FX35, is an excellent travel camera: fast response, great image quality, good macro shots (important for food photography), good high ISO noise performance, easy HD video, and most of all, portable. It was tiny enough that I slipped it into my pocket and went everywhere with me. No need to baby it, carry a huge camera case. Just drop it in, forget it, and go.

The one huge compromise is control. There were times times I wished I could shoot at ISO 200 at 2′ shutter. Or try panning shots, or any other sort of composed shot where I want to control the light to artistic effect. Not possible with a super compact.

What I’m wondering now is this: is the Olympus E-P1 a perfect travel camera system?

(Photo by classix, posted on Flickr by dolmang)

I’ve been following the Micro FourThirds world for a bit, and there are some pretty interesting things that suggest that this new format is only just taking off. The DSLR world itself, especially at the most basic level, is experiencing a flux, with even big-shots Nikon (D5000) and Canon (T1i) embracing HD video, live view and retractable LCD displays that, just a few years back, we wouldn’t expect on SLR systems.

Olympus, along with its band of Four Thirds supporters, most notably Panasonic (with its Lumix cameras), has been in recent years known for pushing the limits of what a digital SLR can be. It released the smallest system with the E-420, supported the Four Thirds sytem (a different lens mount, a smaller sensor, built for digital) and introduced live view on its SLR cameras. But the most exciting development has been the introduction of the Micro Four Thirds (m4/3, µ43) system that promises to substantially reduce the size of the body.

After the Lumix G-1 (and, more recently, the GH-1), the new Olympus PEN E-P1 is the newest m4/3 body. It’s actually a logical continuation of Olympus’ old PEN series of half-frame film cameras, and was released on the 50th anniversary of the first PEN.

The new digital PEN can shoot at 12.3 megapixel maximum resolution, has RAW shooting, exposure bracketing, SD card support, mounts for standard 4/3 and OM lenses, and an all new image processing engine (that comparable, I’ve heard, to the more advanced Olympus E-30).

DPReview already has a detailed hands-on preview up, and you’ll find some sample shots on Flickr.

This camera has really spiked my interest, and I will be keeping an eye on it. I want to see how it performs in low-light with its smaller-than-usual sensor, and how people are responding to the overall experience.

Shanghai Dumplings (Xiǎolóngbāo)

From my cursory perusal of Shanghai guidebooks and travelers’ websites, and Zhang Yi’s recommendations, I gathered that the much-celebrated Shanghai-special steamed dumplings, also called Xiǎolóngbāo (小笼包), are worth scouring the city for, for two main reasons: ine, it’s local cuisine that almost any foodie who’s ever been to Shanghai will recommend and two, the photos made it seem a lot like momo, the venerable Nepali/Tibetan dumplings that’s as much a part of my own culture as it is of pretty much anyone who’s ever lived in Kathmandu, the quintessential dish that the city embraced, transformed and made it owns own (much like New York did with the pizza).

I read that the Old Town God’s Temple area was the best place to find this. This was rather convenient, given I was staying in a hostel not far from that area, in Fuzhou Road. After breakfast/coffee at Città, I went back to my hostel, stashed away my computer, made sure I had my camera on me, and headed out to find these dumplings.

Walking to the Old Town area is an exercise in adaptation and patience. I didn’t know I could go through Sichuan Rd and get there much quickly until after, on my way back, but going up Fuzhou Road, taking HeNan Rd to make a left on RenMin Rd apparently leads you through some interesting areas. There’s a lot of construction work going on, which you’ll (naturally) be expected to walk through. Which wouldn’t be all that odd if it weren’t for the fact that drivers are also apparently (naturally) expected to drive through it. Crosswalks seem to appear out of nowhere, motorists don’t really seem to want to stop for you, even if you wait for the green walk sign before crossing, and people (for the most part) seem to look at you suspiciously. “Why”, they might wonder, “would he chose to walk through here?”.

Once you actually reach there, though, things are quite different. You start noticing huge temples, beautifully decorated pagoda-style houses, all with ancient symbols and lettering you have to assume are traditional characters. And on the ground floor of these magnificent, rustic shrines, the infamous McDonalds logo. And KFC, and Bank of China, jewelry stores, fashion boutiques. Quite the odd mélange: intriguing, yet somewhat worrying.

After asking around, I found myself outside DN Dumpling (大娘水交, Danniang Shuijiao), a small, very red dumpling fànguǎn that that was somewhat busy but not overflowing with tourists.

I asked about xiǎlóngbāo, and was directed to the second floor, which you’ll discover after ascending (and descending a little), opens up to an elaborate seating area, also decorated in sharp red and white. You order at the counter—either point, or they’ll give you a notebook you can flip through—get seated and wait for your dumplings.

The actual xiǎolóngbāo, which I think is made with crab meat (although I can’t confirm this, anybody know for sure?) costs CNY 18, and comes in a traditional bamboo steamer, six pieces in all.

You also get chilli sauce and garlic paste as condiments, for which you can ask for (or they’ll offer you) a small plate to dip dumplings in.

How did it taste? Much to my delight, I found the Shanghai xiǎolóngbāo were much closer in taste taste to the Nepali momo than any jiaozi or the baozi I’ve had. And this, of course, means I liked them quite a bit. My only complaint would be the portions; six pieces just isn’t enough for lunch (although I will admit they asked me ‘how many’ when I ordered).

I asked for another one, banking on my four-weeks worth of Chinese to ask if they came with any other meat.

“No,” I was told, resolutely, “but we have a selection of water dumplings”. Shuijiao! The lady behind the counter didn’t really speak much English—thus, knowing some Chinese definitely helps—but was well-equipped to handle yìngwen-speaking guests, which I’m assuming she’s used to having. She promptly produced a notebook with a listing of water dumpling choices in English, and asked me to pick one.

I went for the one with pork and crab (it was spelled “crad”, but I’m guessing I can’t be too wrong in assuming), which cost CNY 5.5. These aren’t served those really fancy bamboo steamers, but they’re still very good:

The water dumplings weren’t all that different, save for the presentation and a slight variation in texture (since these actually were boiled as opposed to just steamed). Once you get over novelty of xiǎolóngbāo, you could easily get used to paying less than half the price and enjoying shuijiao instead on a regular basis. I’d imagine smaller, less fancier stores would have them for even cheaper.

On the topic of dumplings, however, the momo (Nepali: म:म:) still reigns sumpreme. Perhaps it’s because I grew up on them, or that they’re usually made with some small amount of mountain pepper (Nepali: टिमुर), or simply the strength of my association of momo with the dumpling food family; for whatever reason, momo is a perfect food. And the xiǎolóngbāo is to be respected for being able to come so close to it.

Città Espresso Club, Shanghai

Shanghai is an explosion of postmodern complexities, not entirely unlike Manhattan. It’s never the same for anybody, and its own identity is volatile, changing, ephemeral. When you have one, just one day to explore the city, your choices will reflect some fragment of your own splintered identity. You might choose spend your day at one of the many technology malls that dot the city, haggling with local vendors to get gadgets at half the quoted price, stroll around museums and parks, follow a guidebook and discover tourist hangouts, find a salsa club, just sit and people-gaze.

When you’re traveling in a group, fragmented identities become especially relevant. Would the city change depending on your own frame of mind, and the dynamics of a group where each person has varied interests? I thought so, so at around 11:30am, I split from the group to go explore specialty food and coffee in Shanghai. I hadn’t had breakfast yet, so I decided to find a café.

Città Espresso Club

Walking down Fuzhuo Road to get to the Nanjing W station to get to Bonna Cafe in Xinle Rd, weaving through the sheer madness of the city’s traffic (both vehicular and human), I stopped at the crossing in Shandong Rd and waited for the walk signal to turn green. And in a moment of sheer serendipity, I caught sight of a huge red circular logo with the words “Città” in white.

“Chittà!” Just last night I’d sent an email to Lee Spector about meeting him at Chittà Espresso Club in HuaiHai Rd, and here it was, right in front of me, logo and all. I walked in (which makes it sounds like there was some degree of free will; I have a feeling I was drawn to it in the sort of hypnotic trance that only the prospect of having a good shot of espresso can bring about).

“Do you have another branch at HuaiHai Rd?” I asked who I assume is the manager, as I walked into the massive, ultramodern café. He answered yes, confirming my grand theory that the reason the place was all shiny and glittery was because it was new, and not, as one might assume, because all espresso bars are run by neat-freaks who are secretly graphic designers. (Not that this alternative theory has been sufficiently disproved yet).

Stepping In

The interior has a decidedly European look to it: posh, minimalist furniture lit up with bright ceiling-to-floor wall windows on all sides, a dark red-noir color scheme and very spacious seating. There’s even outdoor seating on the patio, umbrellas and all, with a small sign telling visitors there’s free WiFi available.

A glossy brochure on the table explains, in Chinese with English titles accompanying (there’s also an English-only version, apparently), what each type of coffee drink is. The photography and layout is done very tastefully, a clear indication that they’re willing to spend considerably on the espresso experience, and that they’re serious about their coffee. (That, or it’s a clear indication I’m a sucker for good design).

I examined their counter (meaning, of course, that I scanned it very thoroughly at it with a raised eyebrow), and noticed that they had a semi-automatic La Marzocco Linea machine, with two double-spout groupheads that seemed to be clean and very well maintained. (And, again, shiny)

Espresso

I ordered an espresso (CNY 18). I had to.

It arrived about two minutes later, in a beautiful Città espresso cup with a distinct flat handle. The crema was thick and strong, the temperature pleasing (not burning, but warm enough), with the sort of consistency you want to drown in. It wasn’t over-extracted—the problem at a lot of coffee places, even ones with good machines—nor was it burning with acidity. I asked for water to clear my palate and took a sip. The taste was mild (medium roast, I’m guessing), with just a very, very slight trace of acidity that made it very pleasant. After a year of not having had good espresso, this was godly.

Duck Wrap, Breakfast

For breakfast, I ordered their duck wrap (CNY 24), a pretty standard wrap with what tasted like roast duck (although it’s true, I can’t tell my meat; it could just as well have been kangaroo and if it said duck on the menu, I wouldn’t know). It was quite delicious:

The free WiFi is great. After about an hour of just sitting, writing (this article) and calling friends, I couldn’t resist the urge to try their caffè-lattè. My expectations were high. And this time, I wanted to see how they did it.

Caffè Lattè

I asked the manager if I could take a video of their preparing my décaf espresso, and he agreed. So here it is, a barista at Città pulling a shot and texturing the milk for my lattè:

And the final product, a caffè lattè (with a resotta) at Città Espresso Club, Fuzhou Road, Shanghai:

I noticed they used whole, condensed milk. You’ll notice in the video that they stretch the milk quite a bit (maybe a little too much to my liking, but still done very well). The drink had a thick head, more like a cappuccino than a lattè, but they got the microfoam dead on. Not a single bubble broke the surface, and the milk blended perfectly with the espresso, forming a distinct rosetta shape.

The Verdict

With its minimalist architecture and interior design, soft jazz playing over the speakers, a very pleasant ambiance and, most of all, excellent coffee, Città Espresso Club in Shanghai is definitely a must-go for any coffee enthusiast. It’s 1:13pm now, I’ve spent over two hours enjoying great food, coffee and the WiFi (writing this article, taking and download photos) and I couldn’t be more pleased with the service.

The Follow-Up

I visited another branch, the one in HuaiHai Road, and talked to the manager there, who spoke good English and was very willing to talk about Città presence in Shanghai and the growing coffee culture there. He told me that Città is run by an Israeli owner by the name of Oriya Reuveny, and started in 2007 with its first café in ZhongShan Park. It currently has four branches, with the fifth on the way in the PuDong area.

When I mentioned that it was hard finding good coffee and, indeed, coffee culture in Hefei, he mentioned that there are “lots of coffee places in Shanghai”, but that most “young people are attracted to Starbucks because of their ice coffee drinks”. Most consumers of ‘hot coffee’, he mentioned, are still foreigners, but the number of Chinese consumers interested in good espresso is on the rise.

Città Espresso Club is worth keeping an eye on. I’m not familiar with the overall coffee scene in Shanghai, but based on what I’ve read on coffee forums, there aren’t too many great places; Città might just be the closest you’ll get to a the elusive god shot in Shanghai!

In Shanghai, post-Hefei

We were supposed to leave AAU at around 7:30am to catch our 8:24am train to Shanghai, but only got on a taxi at 7:50am. Han Shu and Cherry told the taxi driver something I’m assuming roughly translates to, “We need to move. NOW!”. As we rushed along the express way, Han Shu assured me that the trains are usually late. “This”, I was told, “is a good thing”.

We got there at around 8:12am or so, ran through the station—up/down the stairs (carrying the luggage!) and all—only to get there minutes before departure. Literally, minutes. We got in, found our seats and the train left the station.

It took 3 hours to get to Shanghai, with stops at Nanjing and Kanshan. At Shanghai, we walked about a block and a half away from the station and found a cab—it’s best, we were told, to not to take the ones right outside the station if we don’t fancy exorbitant cab fares—and asked the driver to take us to Fuzhou Rd, no 37.

I should’ve had the name and address of Captain Hostel ready to show to the driver, but somehow, I didn’t. But I’m glad our Chinese was sufficient to explain where we wanted to go.

Captain Hostel is a more luxurious hostel than I’d expected. It’s not exactly cheap for a hostel—we’re paying CNY 55/night—but the rooms, sleeping 7 or 8 each, are very clean. The staff friendly and cooperative, not to mention able to speak English (for the most part).

Fuzhou Road, I’d read, is known for its array of bookstores. About four blocks down from the hostel, I found (not without the help of locals who, I discovered, like responding in English to my asking them questions in Chinese) the Foreign Language Book Store. I found a nice book (by another Zhāng lǎoshī) that tries to explain the etimology of common characters, but the salesgirls trying to sell their Chinese-learning software were quite annoying. It was like verbal abuse, only with a lot of smiling and pure, unadulterated marketing babble. One of them even went as far as saying that I should buy the software for her sake! The design section was pretty interesting, although I couldn’t find many books about contemporary Chinese advertising design and typography. Will need to go back there tomorrow.

Writing this from my room in Captain Hostel, where there apparently is a WiFi connection. It’s flaky, but, unlike the computers downstairs, free.

More from Shanghai later. I’m off to bed.