Imagine stepping into a little corner restaurant outside the Forbidden City, the scents of star anise and ginger seeping delicately into your nose, your clothing, your spirit. Behind the counter, you see gloriously roasted ducks in a row, their skin golden, still crackling as you’re handed a plate. Maybe you get a cold drink or a small salad with your roasted duck, or perhaps you simply dip greasy hands in for bite after bite until you’re bursting.