Buttery, the Story of a Neighborhood Café

It's Sunday afternoon. Lulu, the owner of my favorite neighborhood café, Buttery, moves about her open concept kitchen space gracefully. She's making lattes and delivering them in small artsy mugs to the few of us here working today. As Lulu moves over to the stove to check on her chili, Mary Wells' words Nothing you can say can tear me away from my guy/ Nothing you could do 'cause I'm stuck like glue to my guy softly float into the air from a tiny iPod placed underneath the table with hand-crafted jewelry that Lulu sells in the cafe.

Those of us enjoying this warm space today are breathing in the aroma of blueberry, raspberry and blackberry jams simmering on the stovetop. Fresh pumpkin spice and blueberry scones are propped up in front of me, deservingly elevated on a cake stand -- the flavors from Buttery have been raising the community's spirits for the past three weeks, the same amount of time fears and restrictions from the novel coronavirus have been spreading.

Lulu opened Buttery in May of 2019. I remember catching a glimpse of the café as I descended Nanshan Mountain in the spring. I peaked in a couple of times, but it wasn't until this fall that I opened the door and ventured inside her haven.

"This is so much of my love," Lulu told me as we sat down to talk last week, a lull in the afternoon business opening up space for some storytelling. When you walk into Buttery, you feel the love, the warmth, the sense of community that emanates outwards from Lulu into the space surrounding her.

Lulu at her industrial-sized mixer. She bakes bread daily.

The set-up of the café is an open-concept kitchen with a horseshoe of small tables and chairs surrounding one end of the cooking space. The decor is eclectic: carved gnomes stand on a shelf along with hand-crafted pottery and other knick-knacks; it's not kitschy, nor does it exude sophistication. The entire space works together to embrace you; you have the warm feeling of having just eaten your grandmother's best comfort food even before you've sunk your fork into Lulu's homemade dishes.

Photo courtesy of Lulu

The menu at Buttery is inspired by Lulu's memories of watching her grandmother cook homemade recipes for the Chinese New Year. As Lulu and I continued to sit and talk, her tone becoming more animated, she told me of how she wants people to understand that wholesome eating is achievable.

Soup Joumou, steaming with pumpkin, chunks of savory beef, squash carrots and fragrant herbs. Photo courtesy of Lulu.

In 2006, Lulu met her husband, Kodiak, at a wellness center in Harbin Hot Springs, California. Lulu's friends brought her to the retreat after she volunteered at an event for Obama's campaign in the Bay Area. Kodiak was helping to build a temple at the hot springs.

As the two were getting to know each other, Lulu shared with Kodiak her dream to open a café someday. "What will you sell there," he laughed, "frozen food from Trader Joe's?" Lulu stubbornly told him that living her younger years in Shanghai and Shenzhen, she knew about cooking fresh food. When he asked her to make something, she didn't have any recipes at her fingertips ... yet.

Kodiak and Lulu's relationship deepened, and the two moved to Mendocino County in 2007. They were surrounded by people who were growing their own vegetables and Lulu's consciousness of the impact of whole foods on our health deepened. She began spending time with new friends who taught her about growing her own food. She began to read and watch videos about food science. She began to experiment with making her own bread. She noticed how she felt when she ate such fresh foods.

You can dine in or out at Buttery. It is placed on a quiet corner, so it offers the perfect nook for some reading. Photo courtesy of Lulu.

After spending five years in Mendocino County, Lulu and Kodiak made the move to China. In 1983, when Lulu was four years old, she had moved to Shenzhen with her family from Shanghai. Over 30 years later, her return to Shenzhen would see the realization of the dream that she had shared with Kodiak, though not for some years still.

Lulu and Kodiak opened a language center once they had settled into Shenzhen. In a small space at the learning center, Lulu began to bake fresh goods such as bread and scones. In time, two food bloggers stumbled upon the space and wrote about her "mysterious confidence."

Over time, Lulu and her husband grew tired of teaching English at the center they had opened. Their vision did not always match what parents who sent their children wanted. When Lulu and Kodiak received a strong offer for the space, they sold the center, serendipitously drawing Lulu even closer to the location that would become Buttery.

On Sundays, Lulu, Kodiak and their son, four-year-old Atticus, came to Shekou to walk Nanshan Mountain. One day, as they were dining on their favorite dumplings after a hike, they noticed that there was a vacant storefront nearby. In January of 2019, Lulu and Kodiak began renovations and five months later Buttery opened to the public.

The public includes the neighborhood cats. When Lulu saw this sweet one outside, she rushed to her refrigerator to get fresh, organic chicken to serve her.

"I remember the day that you first came in," Lulu told me. "You were the first foreigner to order my chicken." I feel special in this moment, that I have somehow made a mark on Lulu. The truth is, I have, but so has everyone else that has entered Buttery. Lulu has a knack for names, and for remembering others' stories. It is, in part, the reason why, even after a lull in business from July until October, the café is now thriving. At Buttery, you are at home.

Most days, during this coronavirus outbreak, I have snuggled right into a chair here, feeling safe and cozy. While many restaurants have remained closed, Lulu has kept Buttery open, becoming a haven for the community.

Lulu uses her calligraphy to communicate to café visitors that we all live under the same sky and the same moon. We are one, she reminds us as she paints this Buddhist message.

As we close our conversation today, I am getting ready to go cuddle with the cats, and Lulu is getting ready to return home to Kodiak and Atticus, she leans towards me, and says, "Life just kind of takes you ... you plan ... but what's inside of you drives you. You will say verbally what you want to do, but in the end, you will be driven to where your heart is."

Update, May 5, 2022

The pandemic has brought so much change to the world, on global and community scales. Not so long after this article was first posted, Lulu and her family left China for Japan. Since Kodiak does not have a Chinese passport, the family was locked out of China long term. Due to these circumstances, Lulu and her family moved to the United States where they have extended family. Last we spoke, her spirits were high and she was doing well.

Reporting from China: Just Add Oil

This weekend saw Shekou, my little bubble of Shenzhen, tightening up on restrictions and protocols in order to continue to work to contain the virus. Published in the Shekou Daily, the new rules decreed that "Residents in residential buildings shall not visit other households in the same complex, and must strictly adhere to the requirements for wearing masks in public places." Having lived in China for four years and having been in Shenzhen since the coronavirus outbreak began, this kind of restriction does not feel to me now what it might have felt in years before. As it stands now, some buildings are not enforcing the rule as strictly as others, so a few of us did get to gather last night for some Exploding Kittens and Fishbowl shenanigans.

Charles appears quite tranquil in the midst of what Trey seems to be communicating as an epic ... something.

Katie, caught mid-gesture -- I think this was in describing ... newborn baby poop?

Which of those cards is going to save you from the exploding kitten, Alli?

Other members of the Shekou community who have decided to stay on in Shenzhen have put up tents for their children on their balconies, offering a new experience in the midst of masks and large periods indoors. This same primary teacher, the nature and bug loving Kevin O'Shea, has a vlog on YouTube that I highly recommend checking out -- you get daily insights into what the city really looks and feels like through his videos and narrations.

Before staying up until midnight (I felt young again), Alli, Ann, Charles and I started our day with a run at Talent Park, a lovely area with sculptures and a cushy running path that circles a small body of water.

New rules also say that while in open spaces, we do not have to wear a mask. The air quality on Saturday was perfection.

These three logged many more miles than I did -- 17 in total!

After running a 5k, I meandered along, taking time to stop and breathe into the balance of lovely art.

And this -- sending out Love to Wuhan, and to the whole wide world.

Today I got busy brunching with my fellow midwesterners. We dined at Gaga Garden. Again, we were the only ones, save for the employees who took a seat at a nearby table.

I am not entirely sure what the purpose of the red caution tape is -- and I cannot read the sign.

Craig and Ann and a cup of coffee. My kind of slow Sunday.

This is the state of my life right now. As I continue to feel safe in Shenzhen, I am also fortunate to be enjoying a slow, mindful pace, something I have not felt in many years. There is a part of me, the adventurous and very privileged part, that considers meeting up with my family in California or getting on a plane to Thailand. The seeker in me, though, has me staying put. My soul has been seeking this rhythm for so long, one that allows me to think more clearly, appreciate my sense of presence, and enjoy what is rather than wanting more.

Staying put in Shenzhen has also meant that I have had more opportunities to hear the stories of my immediate community. Tonight I was fortunate enough to cook for a new SIS friend, our primary school librarian, Megan, who also lives in my building. As a fellow cat woman, we shared stories of how our felines came to find us. We shared stories of living abroad ... and we shared a lot of vegetables.

Two whole bowls are better than one. This is the year of #wholebowls for me and my kitchen, and my gut biome (I am so that nerd right now) has been thanking me.

I feel blessed to be in Shenzhen, feeling settled in my high-rise apartment. I also feel especially blessed to have the option still to leave if that settled feeling changes. I know that during this outbreak, so many do not have the same options or sense of security.

One of our SIS administrators sent out a video this evening that returns our attention to the unsung heroes in Wuhan, the doctors, and medical staff that are bravely serving those who are sick.

The video is in English and has subtitles in English.

In closing, tonight, my friends and family all over the world, Jiāyóu加油

Add oil as the Chinese saying goes.

Reporting from Shenzhen, China, in the midst of #coronavirus fears, rumors, and new norms

Hello, dear friends and family,

I am snuggled up in my apartment tonight, writing as my second batch of chicken bone broth cooks in my instant pot, and the cats lounge at my feet.

I am pretty tuckered out tonight, largely because I ran a kick-ass 10k along the boardwalk with my friend Ann. This weekend I was supposed to be in Hong Kong for the 9Dragons race -- Alli was going to run the 50k, and I was slated to run the 10k. Understandably, the race was canceled, but my runner's lungs were still craving a little race pace. As Ann and I ran, masks (mostly) on, the scene was quiet and quite lovely. Along the boardwalk, instrumental music plays out of speakers in the bushes. Guards were posted regularly along the boardwalk to ensure runners, walkers and those strolling along were indeed following the mandate that everyone wears masks outside.

Ann is a fellow midwesterner. We have become fast friends because of this, and also because of our love of fitness and food.

The day was pretty cloudy, but we have had a great deal of sun this week, so I've been soaking up that Vitamin D.

Palm trees and distant ships in the South China Sea. The boardwalk is a sweet space to enjoy.

Some of the new protocols set in place this week have been strange to get used to. Just today my building stopped allowing visitors in, so my friend Katie, who came by for a bit, was not allowed to enter. This is disappointing, but we still were able to head out on our favorite hike nearby and enjoy coffee at our favorite cafe.

I have been to Buttery every day for the past ... many days. We love the oolong tea and ...

the pork and chicken and trumpet mushrooms. I didn't order to share, I ordered to have leftovers.

Altogether, I appreciate the measures that China is taking to prevent the virus from spreading further. I now get my temperature checked some 3 or 4 times a day as I enter and re-enter my apartment. Every time they put the temperature gun to my head, the apartment security is very kind. Honestly, I am thankful these are the only kinds of guns hanging around here. The biggest gripe in my day was actually the fact that when I blew my electricity yesterday, I forgot to turn on the water heater again ... the water was running mighty cold after that run.

This is a time it is especially useful to be inclined towards the introvert end of the spectrum. I love my solitude. I have many books, podcasts, Netflix shows, and a Shutterfly book that I started three years ago to attend to.

Earlier today I met with my colleague and friend Clayton to collaborate about how we will work on online platforms to deliver curriculum to the students. As of right now, we will be working online until February 17th.

Alright, kiddos, time for some Microsoft TEAMS discussions.

I am largely ignoring much of the media. If you want to hear more raw truth, I encourage you to drop CNN and FoxNews, and tune in to Harvard Health and NPR. I logged in to Twitter tonight to find that what was trending for me was #coronavirus. Not surprising. Just below that, though, was the #NoMeatNoCoronaVirus and I was like I just cannot with you opportunists right now.

I am fortunate to be part of a community here that is one to offer support, outreach and just some laughs to one another. My principal and director have been close at hand when I have needed to offset some anxiety with a conversation. Those of us who stayed in Shenzhen rather than opting for Thailand, or other destinations, have formed a group chat. Only honest and useful updates are posted to the chat, which was started by an elementary teacher who has continued to offer family hikes to look for bugs and enjoy nature. My friend Megan, also an administrator, has arranged for a viewing of the SuperBowl tomorrow. We are #shekoustrong because of this caring community. I feel so blessed to feed off of this community, and also give back to it.

I plan to offer daily updates here at lettersfromasojournista. No fake news, no bullshit, just what is happening from here in the bubble of Shekou in Shenzhen, China.

For tonight, I sign off with a picture of Ms. Silvermoon Free Solo, shortly, Silvie.

Why is she pouting? I am not entirely sure, but I have a hunch it is because Patacon said something quite catty to her.

Be well, everyone. Sending love from Shenzhen.