Raw cockles in a bowl.[Photo by Pauline D. Loh/China Daily]

The difference, the chef says as he cracks open a cockle with his Chinese cleaver, is that these are blood cockles. Sure enough, red juices drip as the chef expertly cleans the cockle and removes the dark bits.

The cleaned cockle is then placed in a bowl of crushed ice to which the chef adds lemon juice.

"That's to tighten the flesh of the cockle and improve its texture."

The shellfish is also thrown against the chopping block a few times before it is cut, to tighten its flesh further. It shrinks before our eyes.

The lips of the cockle are trimmed and set aside, while the dark orange-red body is expertly cut.

When we next meet the cockles, they are beautifully arranged on a huge platter on top of crushed ice. It is a simple but beautiful presentation and the cockles are flavored by the best seasoning in the kitchen: the chef's respect for the ingredient, and its freshness.

It was a return to roots for me personally, and thanks to the patient explanations from Huang, I am beginning to understand more about the cuisine of my home province, and why of all the foods in China, it has traveled so far, and so extensively through the world. It makes me grateful that I was born Cantonese.