All You Can Eat: Sin and Virtue in Buffet Dining

From Origus to Bubbalicious,from Pizza Hut to Punjabi, the all-you-can-eat has become a Beijing institution. Dim sum, dal, duck leg confit, desserts by the dozen, in quantities limited only by belt size and (in some cases) balancing ability. But at what cost, people? No, I’m not talking about coronary heart disease or excessive waste. Something much more critical. Your soul.

Buffets in Beijing present a smorgasbord of spiritual temptation, a giant moral mousetrap where cheese is probably the least of your worries (unless there’s a raclette – that stuff’s mighty sticky). In the face of limitless comestibles, how to repress your baser urges? How to keep your head when all around are losing theirs, and conduct yourself with dignity and restraint? Let this guide deliver you from temptation, regret, indigestion and all other ailments of the stomach and soul.

Lust
In a five-star world where tablecloths are whiter than white, where crab is “dressed” and fillet never, ever rhymes with skillet, you’d think temptation would be easier to resist. Not so. British food critic Jay Rayner describes buffets as the “plunging neckline of gastronomy.” Indeed, it's astonishing what the promise of poached lobster and champers will do. Before you can say “Vichy carrots” you’re slumped in a delirious food coma, covered from top to tail in lemon parsley butter. Chastise those lustful thoughts. Begin slowly. Get to know your buffet. Take a turn around the room, assessing the means and virtues of your suitors. Yes, the rib of beef is vivacious and red-blooded, but will it prove a better provider than the larded leg of venison?

Wrath
The basic principles of a buffet may appear egalitarian (i.e. we pay the same money for the same food) but the reality is a vicious asset grab for those edibles deemed precious and scarce, be they Alaskan king crab claws or Mughal’s samosas. Not to mention the basic free-market instinct to eke out maximum return on our investment by eating way more than we usually would. Is it any wonder that in Japan a buffet is called a “Viking”? At times, there’s little to separate the modern all-you-can-eat from a bunch of bearded plunderers in horned helmets fighting over wooden platters of fermented shark. Wrath indicators? Tutting. Elbows. Clashing of tongs. Exasperated plate abandonment. The answer? Be Zen. Ease off the coffee and cola. Nibble. Relax. Chat. The only thing that should be chafing is the dishes.

Gluttony
“All you can eat” is neither a challenge nor a badge of honor. Did you know there’s a scientific correlation between the height of food on your plate and the depth of indignation others will harbor towards you? Always, always plate with restraint, especially when it comes to ethnic mixing. Try a little of everything, sure – just don’t commit ingredient adultery. Anchovy-rich Caesar salad dressing bleeding into blueberry jus is unlikely to spark a new taste revolution. Likewise, the yellowtail nigiri is no friend of the butter chicken. And remember – thou shalt not mix up the serving spoons, nor eat in the queue, fatty.

Sloth
Strive for diligence and dignity. In a nutshell: Arrive early for the freshest fare, plate with care and don’t wear stretchy pants, dude. Get up on your feet and make multiple excursions to individual stations. Choose a table far from the buffet and think of each trip as both exercise and digestion time.

Avarice
Where no fruit is forbidden, you must become your own moral compass. Never take the last pizza slice – there’s always someone needier than you. Besides, your charity will be rewarded when a new Hawaiian arrives fresh from the Origus microwave. And at the omelet station, don’t – for heaven’s sake, don’t – say “everything.” Have your creative faculties really become so swamped by greed that you are incapable of sparing a second’s thought for a flavor combination you might actually enjoy? And never, ever ask to dabao. Come on. That’s like asking a taxi driver to pop in and change a light bulb after he’s dropped you off home.

Pride
Humility – measured in both plate size and walking speed – can be contagious. Try this experiment. Choose the tiniest vessel you can find (coffee saucer, that little dish with the butter on it), then glide to the buffet, making exaggerated allowances for everyone to push in front of you. Choose the least appealing dish you can find – any sort of pasta salad works well – spoon yourself a feeble portion and walk patiently back to your seat. Fellow diners will be astonished. Moved. They’ll pause to get a good look at you over their gateaux. Soon they’ll be begging you to eat the grilled sea bream they’ve just queued ten minutes for. Maybe.

Envy
Don’t covet your neighbor’s plate. This is less likely to be an issue at Golden Jaguar, where the Chinese have few qualms about the brazen mixing of sweet and savory. Ice cream and abalone, anyone? However, it may be an issue in venues offering both buffet and a la carte options. Don’t deal with this by simply eating more. Deal with it by eating more, getting drunk and complaining loudly. Nobody’s perfect.

Four to Try

Golden Jaguar
RMB 238 (5-8pm), RMB 198 (8-10.30pm)
Mon-Fri 11am-2.30pm, 5-10.30pm, Sat-Sun 10.30am-4pm, 5-10.30pm
From abalone to baloney, this mecca of overindulgence has it all.

Ganges (Sanlitun branch)
RMB 42
Mon-Fri 11am-2pm
One of the best Indian lunchtime blowouts, with quality dals,
curries and baskets of tandoor-grilled bread.

Matsuko
RMB 98
Daily 11am-2pm
Featuring dozens of sushi and sashimi varieties, noodles, tempura and loads more, this Beijing favorite sources all its fare locally, so contamination isn’t a worry.

Origus Pizza Buffet
RMB 49
Daily 11am-2.30pm, 5-9.30pm
Plastic pizza, spicy chicken, self-serve ice-cream, unfathomable “desserts” and more food additives than you should probably consume in a fortnight. Oh, and unlimited beer, too.

For more venue information, see our directory.

Photos: Judy Zhou