Cabbage tells tale of emerging China

BEIJING -- To the Chinese capital, the dawn of November long meant one thing -- the invasion of winter cabbage, the government-subsidized, not-too-tasty "patriotic vegetable" that sustained the masses through the icy months.

Rickety trucks from one-horse towns streamed into the city, laden with heads of "da baicai" -- big cabbage. Folks queued their donkey carts and wheelbarrows, eagerly stocking up. Refrigeratorless families by the millions lined gray rooftops with edible green shingles.

This week, the cabbages are coming, right on schedule. But it's not like it used to be.

With each November's passing, the fuel of the proletarian revolution is becoming simply another lifestyle choice in a shiny city of dizzying selections. And therein lies a tale -- of economic progress, increasing affluence, and a generation of pickier palates weaned on Pizza Hut.

"Old grandpas still fondly remember da baicai. But for people my age, it's just like any other vegetable," said Dong Yue, 34. He oversees marketing for Dayanglu, one of Beijing's largest wholesale produce markets. Its inventory this week includes 109 varieties of vegetables.

In recent days, vendors from all corners of the land have brought their perishable harvests to Dayanglu for the prewinter rush. Color is splashed everywhere: scarlet bell peppers, emerald hot peppers, eggplants in deep purple.

Armed with the inventory of available vegetables, Dong ticks off those that many farmers hadn't heard of a decade ago. When he's done, 50 of the 109 items are checked -- everything from iceberg lettuce to celery to the more exotic "monkey-head mushrooms."

"Lines for da baicai? You won't see that anymore," said Gao Zhanmin, laughing as his half-full truck of cabbages loomed behind him.

Twenty years ago, 95 percent of sales at Beijing's wholesale produce markets came from da baicai. Ten years ago, it was between 50 percent and 70 percent. This year, Dong expects just 9 percent of Dayanglu's sales to come from the cabbage.

On Monday, the government said demand for da baicai (dah bye-TSAI') -- known to most Americans as Napa cabbage or by its Cantonese name, bok choy -- was expected to plummet by 8.3 percent from 2002.

It's hardly disappearing: In 2001, the average Beijing resident consumed 77 pounds of the cabbage. But China's two-decade experiment in capitalism has brought extraordinary changes to everyday life.

In today's Beijing, the French superstore Carrefour sells fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice, nine varieties of mushrooms and an entire aisle of canned vegetables -- a sharp contrast to Beijing of 1980, when an average Chinese couldn't buy a Coca-Cola without knowing a foreigner.