One my favourite dishes is simple, basic, and cheap (皮蛋瘦肉粥 'pei daan sau yiuk juk'). Scrawny pork and preserved egg in rice porridge. No, I cannot remember when I first tried it; many years ago. But in any case it was shortly after I had learned to read the words. 皮 'pei': skin, surface. 蛋 'daan': egg. 瘦 'sau': thin, lean. 肉 'yiuk': meat, flesh. 粥 'juk': rice gruel, thin paste. You don't have to know how to read in order to enjoy food, but if you're white, it helps.
Some things require more than passing ability with a dictionary. Fish loin and meatball congee: 魚腩肉丸粥 ('yü naam yiuk-yuen juk'). This is fatty underbelly of carp, which is sweet and rich, with meatballs made of not particularly diet-friendly pork; both equally added to your bowl of rice porridge. It is "mun yü dik tim mei" (滿魚的甜味); "filled with the sweet deliciousness of fish". Shredded lettuce (生菜絲 'saang choi si') on top brings out the fresh taste.
If you are an aficionado, also order some crunchy raw fish skin (爽魚皮 'song yü pei'). Many people do. Dressed, with ginger and scallion added, to dip in soy and chili.
Congee heaven is on Flower Garden Street (花园街 'fa yuen gaai'), in Mongkok (旺角), near Argyle Street (亞皆老街 'ngaa gaai lou gaai').
妹記生滾粥品
旺角花園街市政大廈4樓熟食中心11-12舖
['mui kei saang-gwan juk pan; wong-gok fa-yuen gaai si jing-daai haa, sei lau, suksik jungsam, sap-yat sap-yi pou']
MUI KEE CONGEE
["Younger Sister's Freshly Boiled Congee Products"]
Shop no. 11-12, Fa Yuen Street Market, Municipal Services Building, Fourth Floor, Cooked Foods Centre
Mongkok, Kowloon, Hong Kong.
Hours of operation: Seven in the morning till three P.M.
It used to be a street food stall (大牌檔 'daai paai dong'), but like very many such it has moved indoors. The third generation of the original family now runs the place.
The term 'mui' (妹) means a younger sister, and is a flexible relational term -- meaning that I would address a young non-adult as such, but not someone reasonably close to my own age, unless there were kinship or romantic ties binding us -- and in this case posits the founder within a family or social hierarchy.
No, I do not know the backstory.
好靚好食嘅 HOU LENG HOU SIK GE!
["very beautiful and delicious!"]
Items to consider, because they are wonderful:
Carp belly and meatballs congee (魚腩肉丸粥 'yü naam yiuk yuen juk'), pork liver and carp belly congee (豬潤魚腩粥 'chü yun yü naam juk'; 魚腩豬肝粥 'yü naam chü gon juk'), and plain carp belly congee (鯇魚片粥 'waan yü pin juk'). But there are many other variations, and there is no need to restrain yourself to just these three. What you must definitely also have is "oil fried lumps" (油炸塊 'yau jaa faai'), which is a strip of deep-fried puff bread (油條 'yau tiu') cut into manageable chunks. Dump these on top one by one, to sop up some of the congee. Not all at once, as you don't want them sodden.
They are customary with rice porridge, and yummy.
If there are two of you, you should also share preserved egg with shredded ginger (生薑皮蛋 'saang geung pei daan') on the side.
熟食中心 SUK-SIK JUNG-SAM
The Cooked Foods Centre is open from six in the morning till 2 A.M.
It's a little hard to find if you're new to the area, but worth it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Showing posts with label 粥. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 粥. Show all posts
Monday, December 08, 2014
Sunday, October 12, 2014
LYCHEE BAY'S FAMOUS CONGEE 荔灣區著名嘅粥
Along the river bank in Liwan district travelers often snacked on local delicacies, including up until the seventies, congee prepared on shipboard. There used to be a substantial residency of boat people (Tanka) there, but that community is now mostly housed on land, and laws since then have tightened up restrictions on casual and possibly unsafe food preparation.
[Tanka (蜑家 'daan gaa'): Chinese ethnic group of non-Han origin, now largely genetically identical to their shore-dwelling fellow southerners. For centuries they lived on the water in small boats, and were considered not fit for human company. The discrimination they faced is largely a thing of the past, but there are still good reasons for them to elide over their descent when assimilating among other Chinese.]
Authorities have in recent years become more aware of issues regarding food safety and purity, and have pursued such matters with greater vigour than often in the past. All things considered, this is a good thing. Not too long ago an illegal factory producing 'floating skin' was busted, and the owner and his son jailed.
'Floating skin' (浮皮 'fu pei') is a type of crackling made from cleaned and dried porcine dermis, fried to puff it up (hence 'floating' on the surface of the hot oil), often added to food for a textural effect.
In this case hydrogen peroxide was used to bleach it, and sulfur was added to make it more 'airy'. The results were absolutely stellar.
Just not fit for human consumption.
"What on earth", I hear you asking, "is fried pigskin an ingredient in?"
Sampan rice porridge (艇仔粥 'ting-jai juk'), of course!
Sampan porridge along with Mr. Deepwater Wu's porridge (伍湛記粥 'ng jaam kei juk'), are two famous slick-textured rice-soups of Lychee Bay (Liwan 荔灣 'lai waan'), outside Canton City proper, beyond West Gate (西關 'sai gwaan').
[Note: the grapheme 伍 is pronounced "wu" in Mandarin, 'ng' in Cantonese.]
From what I've heard, in the 20s and 30s, rich opium-addled playboys would stumble home in the early morning hours after a night spent with sing-song girls, and refortify themselves with cheap delicious snackies.
[Sing -song girls (歌女): 近代的歌女, 古代則稱歌妓、謳者、或歌姬。]
After the war the rich opium-addled playboys and the sing-song girls were a thing of the past. But the rice porridge was still being made, and by that time boat people had brought the two dishes to Hong Kong, where there were numerous floating villages, notably Aberdeen (香港仔 'heung gong jai').
On the mainland, the government decided that the aquatic life really stank (it did), and built housing developments for the Tanka. Since the eighties it is unlikely that anyone ate sampan jook other than on land.
In Hong Kong, commercial sampan style cooking has also largely disappeared from the water.
But sampan jook and Mr. Ng's specialty are still around.
They've gone entirely native, very popular.
Nothing is more Hong Kong.
荔灣艇仔粥 和 伍湛記三元及第粥
Lychee Bay Sampan Porridge and Deepwater Ng's Three Candidate Ranks Porridge
['lai waan ting-jai juk' & 'ng jaam kei saam yuen kap tai juk']
艇仔粥 ('TING JAI JUK') SAMPAN PORRIDGE
Sampan porridge nowadays almost by definition contains ingredients which years ago were optional add-ons. Originally it contained only fresh sliced fish and river shrimp, briefly poached in the hot gruel.
At present, everything including the kitchen sink is added: barbecued pork (叉燒 'cha siu'), fresh fish collops (魚片 'yü pin'), fresh sliced squid (魷魚須 'yau yü seui'), floating skin (浮皮 'fu pei'), jelly fish (海蜇 'hoi jit'), and shredded egg threads (蛋絲 'daan si'), all in equal quantities are added with shredded ginger (薑絲 'geung si') and given sufficient time for the fish and squid to poach in the heat, which takes a minute or two of roiling boil (滾 'gwan').
A lesser quantity of fried peanuts (炸花生 'jaa faa-sang') and pok cheui crackers (薄脆餅乾 'pok cheui beng gon') is then thrown in, the porridge is briefly reboiled, then served up with minced cilantro (芫茜 'yuen sai') and scallion (蔥 'chung') strewn on top.
Fresh oilstick (油條 'yau tiu') on the side.
For dipping or dumping in.
It's easy enough to make at home. Per serving, allow approximately two to three tablespoons of the pork, fish, squid, fried pork skin, and egg threads, slightly less than half that for the fried peanuts and pok cheui crackers.
The ginger, cilantro, and scallion are strictly to taste.
Which means generous, but not excess.
Charsiu can be bought at a Cantonese charcuterie, the fish and squid are found at several places on Stockton Street, the floating skin and pok cheui crackers also. Fried pork skin can be acquired at some butcher shops or on Mission Street, and shredded egg thread can be made at home by pouring well-beaten egg through a fine-holed ladle into boiling oil, or you can simple fry some dry egg noodle for an acceptably similar effect.
If you cannot find cilantro and scallion, you are manifestly not living in the civilized world. Please consider moving from the interior to the coast; other sentient beings live here.
Rice porridge made with clear fish stock is best for this dish.
Nice fresh fish makes a lovely sweet silky stock.
The porridge will be velvety.
三元及第粥 ('SAAM YUEN KAP TAI JUK') THREE CANDIDATE RANKS PORRIDGE
Indeed, an unusual name for a bowl of tasty rice soup! What the three candidate ranks reference in terms of this dish are pork meat balls (豬肉丸 'chyu yiuk yuen'), sliced pork liver (豬肝片 'chyu gon pin'), and pork chitlins (豬粉腸 'chyu fan cheung'). Other significant contributors are dried bean curd stick (腐竹 'fu juk' ), ginkgo (白果 'baak gwo'), and a broth made largely of dried flounder (大地魚 'daai dei yü').
[Three candidate ranks: 狀元 ('jong yuen'), "figuring first"; candidate who achieves the top score in the imperial literary exams. 榜眼 ('bong ngaan'), "placard eyes"; candidate who came in second. 探花 ('taam faa') "discovered flower"; candidate who came in third. Note that by their successes they outperformed thousands, tens of thousands, of other scholars.
Kap-tai (及第): to pass the exams.]
Ng Sham Kee is a famous restaurant, now in its third generation. It has been listed as a food-heritage location, and cooks everywhere claim that their version of the congee invented by Mr. Ng is as close to the original as it gets. Given that proportions and processes have mutated over the years, that is not an inaccurate boast for many of them.
Never the less, if you visit Guangzhou, you should probably visit 伍湛記粥品專家 ('ng jaam kei juk pan chuen-gaa', simplified script: 伍湛记粥品专家) for the original taste.
I'm very fond of kap tai jook, even though it can prompt a mild attack of gout, especially if scored kidney slices (豬腰片) are also added for extra goodness. It becomes kind of a delightful nightmare in a bowl at that point, but the dreaded inevitable eventual big toe ache never stops my immediate gustatory pleasure.
It's worth looking for in Chinatown. There are several places where it is offered, but the best version is probably at the Utopia Cafe on Waverly between Clay and Washington, right in the centre of the neighborhood.
You can also get sampan porridge there.
蔘滿意粥 UTOPIA CAFE
139 Waverly Place, San Francisco, CA 94108.
Telephone: 415-956-2902
[Saam Mun-Yi Juk.]
They also do stellar fresh to-order yau tiu (油條), as well as milk-tea.
Jook, yau tiu, and a cup of hot gong-sik naai cha (港式奶茶) are, together, the mid-afternoon snack of champions.
APPENDIX 'A' : LYCHEE BAY
Liwan district (荔灣區 'lai waan keui') was formerly named Sai Gwaan (西關) after the city gate there. Liwan means 'lychee bay', sai gwaan is 'western frontier-gate'. It is outside of Canton City proper, on the bank of the Pearl River (珠江 'jyu gong'), facing Shameen Island (沙面島 'saa min dou'), where the British and the French held concessions. Its furthest extent is West Village (西村 'sai chuen'). The remnants of old architecture and canals make it a popular tourist destination, and it is also known for fine food and manifestations of culture.
Prosperous establishments, shophouses, and boat people hutchments existed side by side.
The phrase 東村、西俏、南富、北貧 ('dong chuen, sai chiu, naam fuk, pak pan') about Canton and its immediate environs means that there are villages to the east, charm in the west, prosperity southwards, and destitution in the northern area.
Lychee (荔枝) is the fruit of a subtropical evergreen tree native to the rainforests, that reaches several storeys in height. It has been cultivated for several centuries. The blossoms are small, white or pale yellow-green, and peculiarly fragrant.
APPENDIX 'B': FLOATING SKIN
Not only the Cantonese use fried pig skin as an ingredient, it is also common elsewhere in China, and crispy chicharron is popular on Mission Street and in the snack-food aisle of many supermarkets.
A well-known Szechuanese dish (雙仁浮皮 'seung yan fu pei') combines pork skin with cashews and gingko nut, braised with carrots, snow peas, and slivered ginger.
APPENDIX 'C': TYPES OF JOOK
Rice porridge (congee, jook) is comfort food, convenience food, and home food, in addition to being popular from before breakfast time till late night after partying.
For your reading pleasure, here's a short list.
鮑魚粥 ('baau yü juk'): abalone rice porridge.
鮑魚滑雞粥 ('baau yü kwat kai juk'): abalone and chicken rice porridge.
柴魚花生粥 ('chai-yü faa-sang juk'): dried fish and fried peanuts rice porridge.
猪肝粥 ('chyu gon juk'): pork liver rice porridge.
猪骨滚生粥 ('chyu gwat gwan saang juk'): pork bone poached rice porridge; a selection of fresh and dried mushrooms with ham cooked in a rice porridge made on a basis of pork broth.
豬紅粥 ('chyu hong juk'): rice porridge with cubes of gelled pig's blood.
豬肚肉片粥 ('chyu tou yiuk pin juk'): pork liver, tripe, and fresh pork slices rice porridge.
豬潤粥 ('chyu yeun juk'): pig gloss jook, an alternative name for rice porridge with pork liver.
豬什粥 ('chyu sap juk'): pig whatevers jook; miscellaneous pork oddments rice porridge.
帶子粥 ('daai-ji juk'): "belt jook"; scallops porridge.
火鴨粥 ('fo ngaap juk'): rice porridge with roast duck.
滑雞粥 ( 'gwat kai juk'): chicken chunks (often bone-in) rice porridge.
虾粥 ('haa juk'): fresh shrimp and cilantro rice porridge.
香菇肉鬆粥 ('heung gu ngau song juk'): black mushrooms and pork floss rice porridge.
蠔豉瘦肉粥 ('ho si sau yiuk juk'): dried oysters and lean pork rice porridge.
海胆粥 ('hoi daam juk'): sea urchin rice porridge.
海產粥 ('hoi chaan juk'): mixed seafoods rice porridge; shrimp, clams or mussels, and squid.
海参粥 ('hoi saam juk'): sea cucumber rice porridge, made with dried holothurid.
海鮮粥 ('hoi sin juk'): mixed fresh seafood porridge.
雞球粥 ('kai kau juk'): chicken rice porridge.
羅漢粥 ('lo hon juk'): Arhat ("Luo Han") rice porridge; a luxurious vegetarian preparation made with carrots, bamboo shoots, dried mushrooms, wood ear, straw mushrooms, and white fungus.
牡蠣粥 ('maau lai juk'): fresh oysters rice porridge with pork and garlic.
銀耳粥 ('ngan yi juk'): white fungus rice porridge, mildly tonifying.
北菇雞球粥 ('pak gu kai kau juk'): black mushroom and chicken porridge.
皮蛋牛肉粥 ('pei dan ngau yiuk juk'):preserved egg and beef porridge.
皮蛋瘦肉粥 ('pei dan sau yiuk juk'): preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge.
三黄粥 ('saam wong juk'): three yellows porridge; soy bean, sweet potato, and millet gruel, served with a little golden sugar. Very good for you!
生滾蝦球粥 ('sang gwan ha kau juk'): jook with fresh shrimp cooked by the heat of the porridge.
生滾牛肉粥 ('sang gwan ngau yiuk juk'): rice porridge with sliced beef poached in the hot gloop.
生滾肉片粥 ('sang gwan yiuk pin juk'): jook with sliced pork cooked by the heat of the porridge.
蝦球帶子粥 ('sin haa daai-ji juk'): fresh shrimp and scallop porridge.
爽滑肉丸粥 ('song gwat yiuk yuen juk'): rice porridge with pork meat balls.
碎牛粥 ('sui ngau juk'): rice porridge with minced beef.
田雞粥 ('tin kai juk'): fresh frog rice porridge.
窩蛋免治牛粥 ('wo dan min ji ngau juk'): nested egg evading control cow jook; minced beef and egg porridge.
魚片粥 ('yü pin juk'): fish curls rice porridge.
魚片豬紅粥 ('yü pin chyu hong juk'): sliced fish and pork blood porridge.
魚片皮蛋粥 ('yü pin pei dan juk'): preserved egg and sliced fish porridge.
魚片瘦肉粥 ('yü pin sau yiuk juk'): sliced fish and pork porridge.
My personal favourites are abalone and chicken congee (鮑魚滑雞粥) and preserved egg and lean pork congee (皮蛋瘦肉粥).
[For baau yü juk, this recipe: 鮑魚粥.]
Of course, there's always 白粥 ('baak juk'): plain rice porridge.
AFTER THOUGHT I
Not only the two types of rice porridge mentioned above are famous dishes originating in Liwan, there's also "glass won ton" (玻璃雲吞 'bo lei wan tan'): a shrimp dumpling in a dough wrapper of such lightness that it appears transparent after cooking.
The broth is a refined decoction of dried flounder (roasted before use) and blanched pig bones, simmered and enriched with fresh meat and re-simmered.
I've heard of it, but have never seen it.
Yes, I am keenly curious.
AFTER THOUGHT II
This was going to be a very short post. It kind of grew.
Food posts do that.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
[Tanka (蜑家 'daan gaa'): Chinese ethnic group of non-Han origin, now largely genetically identical to their shore-dwelling fellow southerners. For centuries they lived on the water in small boats, and were considered not fit for human company. The discrimination they faced is largely a thing of the past, but there are still good reasons for them to elide over their descent when assimilating among other Chinese.]
Authorities have in recent years become more aware of issues regarding food safety and purity, and have pursued such matters with greater vigour than often in the past. All things considered, this is a good thing. Not too long ago an illegal factory producing 'floating skin' was busted, and the owner and his son jailed.
'Floating skin' (浮皮 'fu pei') is a type of crackling made from cleaned and dried porcine dermis, fried to puff it up (hence 'floating' on the surface of the hot oil), often added to food for a textural effect.
In this case hydrogen peroxide was used to bleach it, and sulfur was added to make it more 'airy'. The results were absolutely stellar.
Just not fit for human consumption.
"What on earth", I hear you asking, "is fried pigskin an ingredient in?"
Sampan rice porridge (艇仔粥 'ting-jai juk'), of course!
Sampan porridge along with Mr. Deepwater Wu's porridge (伍湛記粥 'ng jaam kei juk'), are two famous slick-textured rice-soups of Lychee Bay (Liwan 荔灣 'lai waan'), outside Canton City proper, beyond West Gate (西關 'sai gwaan').
[Note: the grapheme 伍 is pronounced "wu" in Mandarin, 'ng' in Cantonese.]
From what I've heard, in the 20s and 30s, rich opium-addled playboys would stumble home in the early morning hours after a night spent with sing-song girls, and refortify themselves with cheap delicious snackies.
[Sing -song girls (歌女): 近代的歌女, 古代則稱歌妓、謳者、或歌姬。]
After the war the rich opium-addled playboys and the sing-song girls were a thing of the past. But the rice porridge was still being made, and by that time boat people had brought the two dishes to Hong Kong, where there were numerous floating villages, notably Aberdeen (香港仔 'heung gong jai').
On the mainland, the government decided that the aquatic life really stank (it did), and built housing developments for the Tanka. Since the eighties it is unlikely that anyone ate sampan jook other than on land.
In Hong Kong, commercial sampan style cooking has also largely disappeared from the water.
But sampan jook and Mr. Ng's specialty are still around.
They've gone entirely native, very popular.
Nothing is more Hong Kong.
荔灣艇仔粥 和 伍湛記三元及第粥
Lychee Bay Sampan Porridge and Deepwater Ng's Three Candidate Ranks Porridge
['lai waan ting-jai juk' & 'ng jaam kei saam yuen kap tai juk']
艇仔粥 ('TING JAI JUK') SAMPAN PORRIDGE
Sampan porridge nowadays almost by definition contains ingredients which years ago were optional add-ons. Originally it contained only fresh sliced fish and river shrimp, briefly poached in the hot gruel.
At present, everything including the kitchen sink is added: barbecued pork (叉燒 'cha siu'), fresh fish collops (魚片 'yü pin'), fresh sliced squid (魷魚須 'yau yü seui'), floating skin (浮皮 'fu pei'), jelly fish (海蜇 'hoi jit'), and shredded egg threads (蛋絲 'daan si'), all in equal quantities are added with shredded ginger (薑絲 'geung si') and given sufficient time for the fish and squid to poach in the heat, which takes a minute or two of roiling boil (滾 'gwan').
A lesser quantity of fried peanuts (炸花生 'jaa faa-sang') and pok cheui crackers (薄脆餅乾 'pok cheui beng gon') is then thrown in, the porridge is briefly reboiled, then served up with minced cilantro (芫茜 'yuen sai') and scallion (蔥 'chung') strewn on top.
Fresh oilstick (油條 'yau tiu') on the side.
For dipping or dumping in.
It's easy enough to make at home. Per serving, allow approximately two to three tablespoons of the pork, fish, squid, fried pork skin, and egg threads, slightly less than half that for the fried peanuts and pok cheui crackers.
The ginger, cilantro, and scallion are strictly to taste.
Which means generous, but not excess.
Charsiu can be bought at a Cantonese charcuterie, the fish and squid are found at several places on Stockton Street, the floating skin and pok cheui crackers also. Fried pork skin can be acquired at some butcher shops or on Mission Street, and shredded egg thread can be made at home by pouring well-beaten egg through a fine-holed ladle into boiling oil, or you can simple fry some dry egg noodle for an acceptably similar effect.
If you cannot find cilantro and scallion, you are manifestly not living in the civilized world. Please consider moving from the interior to the coast; other sentient beings live here.
Rice porridge made with clear fish stock is best for this dish.
Nice fresh fish makes a lovely sweet silky stock.
The porridge will be velvety.
三元及第粥 ('SAAM YUEN KAP TAI JUK') THREE CANDIDATE RANKS PORRIDGE
Indeed, an unusual name for a bowl of tasty rice soup! What the three candidate ranks reference in terms of this dish are pork meat balls (豬肉丸 'chyu yiuk yuen'), sliced pork liver (豬肝片 'chyu gon pin'), and pork chitlins (豬粉腸 'chyu fan cheung'). Other significant contributors are dried bean curd stick (腐竹 'fu juk' ), ginkgo (白果 'baak gwo'), and a broth made largely of dried flounder (大地魚 'daai dei yü').
[Three candidate ranks: 狀元 ('jong yuen'), "figuring first"; candidate who achieves the top score in the imperial literary exams. 榜眼 ('bong ngaan'), "placard eyes"; candidate who came in second. 探花 ('taam faa') "discovered flower"; candidate who came in third. Note that by their successes they outperformed thousands, tens of thousands, of other scholars.
Kap-tai (及第): to pass the exams.]
Ng Sham Kee is a famous restaurant, now in its third generation. It has been listed as a food-heritage location, and cooks everywhere claim that their version of the congee invented by Mr. Ng is as close to the original as it gets. Given that proportions and processes have mutated over the years, that is not an inaccurate boast for many of them.
Never the less, if you visit Guangzhou, you should probably visit 伍湛記粥品專家 ('ng jaam kei juk pan chuen-gaa', simplified script: 伍湛记粥品专家) for the original taste.
I'm very fond of kap tai jook, even though it can prompt a mild attack of gout, especially if scored kidney slices (豬腰片) are also added for extra goodness. It becomes kind of a delightful nightmare in a bowl at that point, but the dreaded inevitable eventual big toe ache never stops my immediate gustatory pleasure.
It's worth looking for in Chinatown. There are several places where it is offered, but the best version is probably at the Utopia Cafe on Waverly between Clay and Washington, right in the centre of the neighborhood.
You can also get sampan porridge there.
蔘滿意粥 UTOPIA CAFE
139 Waverly Place, San Francisco, CA 94108.
Telephone: 415-956-2902
[Saam Mun-Yi Juk.]
They also do stellar fresh to-order yau tiu (油條), as well as milk-tea.
Jook, yau tiu, and a cup of hot gong-sik naai cha (港式奶茶) are, together, the mid-afternoon snack of champions.
APPENDIX 'A' : LYCHEE BAY
Liwan district (荔灣區 'lai waan keui') was formerly named Sai Gwaan (西關) after the city gate there. Liwan means 'lychee bay', sai gwaan is 'western frontier-gate'. It is outside of Canton City proper, on the bank of the Pearl River (珠江 'jyu gong'), facing Shameen Island (沙面島 'saa min dou'), where the British and the French held concessions. Its furthest extent is West Village (西村 'sai chuen'). The remnants of old architecture and canals make it a popular tourist destination, and it is also known for fine food and manifestations of culture.
Prosperous establishments, shophouses, and boat people hutchments existed side by side.
The phrase 東村、西俏、南富、北貧 ('dong chuen, sai chiu, naam fuk, pak pan') about Canton and its immediate environs means that there are villages to the east, charm in the west, prosperity southwards, and destitution in the northern area.
Lychee (荔枝) is the fruit of a subtropical evergreen tree native to the rainforests, that reaches several storeys in height. It has been cultivated for several centuries. The blossoms are small, white or pale yellow-green, and peculiarly fragrant.
APPENDIX 'B': FLOATING SKIN
Not only the Cantonese use fried pig skin as an ingredient, it is also common elsewhere in China, and crispy chicharron is popular on Mission Street and in the snack-food aisle of many supermarkets.
A well-known Szechuanese dish (雙仁浮皮 'seung yan fu pei') combines pork skin with cashews and gingko nut, braised with carrots, snow peas, and slivered ginger.
APPENDIX 'C': TYPES OF JOOK
Rice porridge (congee, jook) is comfort food, convenience food, and home food, in addition to being popular from before breakfast time till late night after partying.
For your reading pleasure, here's a short list.
鮑魚粥 ('baau yü juk'): abalone rice porridge.
鮑魚滑雞粥 ('baau yü kwat kai juk'): abalone and chicken rice porridge.
柴魚花生粥 ('chai-yü faa-sang juk'): dried fish and fried peanuts rice porridge.
猪肝粥 ('chyu gon juk'): pork liver rice porridge.
猪骨滚生粥 ('chyu gwat gwan saang juk'): pork bone poached rice porridge; a selection of fresh and dried mushrooms with ham cooked in a rice porridge made on a basis of pork broth.
豬紅粥 ('chyu hong juk'): rice porridge with cubes of gelled pig's blood.
豬肚肉片粥 ('chyu tou yiuk pin juk'): pork liver, tripe, and fresh pork slices rice porridge.
豬潤粥 ('chyu yeun juk'): pig gloss jook, an alternative name for rice porridge with pork liver.
豬什粥 ('chyu sap juk'): pig whatevers jook; miscellaneous pork oddments rice porridge.
帶子粥 ('daai-ji juk'): "belt jook"; scallops porridge.
火鴨粥 ('fo ngaap juk'): rice porridge with roast duck.
滑雞粥 ( 'gwat kai juk'): chicken chunks (often bone-in) rice porridge.
虾粥 ('haa juk'): fresh shrimp and cilantro rice porridge.
香菇肉鬆粥 ('heung gu ngau song juk'): black mushrooms and pork floss rice porridge.
蠔豉瘦肉粥 ('ho si sau yiuk juk'): dried oysters and lean pork rice porridge.
海胆粥 ('hoi daam juk'): sea urchin rice porridge.
海產粥 ('hoi chaan juk'): mixed seafoods rice porridge; shrimp, clams or mussels, and squid.
海参粥 ('hoi saam juk'): sea cucumber rice porridge, made with dried holothurid.
海鮮粥 ('hoi sin juk'): mixed fresh seafood porridge.
雞球粥 ('kai kau juk'): chicken rice porridge.
羅漢粥 ('lo hon juk'): Arhat ("Luo Han") rice porridge; a luxurious vegetarian preparation made with carrots, bamboo shoots, dried mushrooms, wood ear, straw mushrooms, and white fungus.
牡蠣粥 ('maau lai juk'): fresh oysters rice porridge with pork and garlic.
銀耳粥 ('ngan yi juk'): white fungus rice porridge, mildly tonifying.
北菇雞球粥 ('pak gu kai kau juk'): black mushroom and chicken porridge.
皮蛋牛肉粥 ('pei dan ngau yiuk juk'):preserved egg and beef porridge.
皮蛋瘦肉粥 ('pei dan sau yiuk juk'): preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge.
三黄粥 ('saam wong juk'): three yellows porridge; soy bean, sweet potato, and millet gruel, served with a little golden sugar. Very good for you!
生滾蝦球粥 ('sang gwan ha kau juk'): jook with fresh shrimp cooked by the heat of the porridge.
生滾牛肉粥 ('sang gwan ngau yiuk juk'): rice porridge with sliced beef poached in the hot gloop.
生滾肉片粥 ('sang gwan yiuk pin juk'): jook with sliced pork cooked by the heat of the porridge.
蝦球帶子粥 ('sin haa daai-ji juk'): fresh shrimp and scallop porridge.
爽滑肉丸粥 ('song gwat yiuk yuen juk'): rice porridge with pork meat balls.
碎牛粥 ('sui ngau juk'): rice porridge with minced beef.
田雞粥 ('tin kai juk'): fresh frog rice porridge.
窩蛋免治牛粥 ('wo dan min ji ngau juk'): nested egg evading control cow jook; minced beef and egg porridge.
魚片粥 ('yü pin juk'): fish curls rice porridge.
魚片豬紅粥 ('yü pin chyu hong juk'): sliced fish and pork blood porridge.
魚片皮蛋粥 ('yü pin pei dan juk'): preserved egg and sliced fish porridge.
魚片瘦肉粥 ('yü pin sau yiuk juk'): sliced fish and pork porridge.
My personal favourites are abalone and chicken congee (鮑魚滑雞粥) and preserved egg and lean pork congee (皮蛋瘦肉粥).
[For baau yü juk, this recipe: 鮑魚粥.]
Of course, there's always 白粥 ('baak juk'): plain rice porridge.
AFTER THOUGHT I
Not only the two types of rice porridge mentioned above are famous dishes originating in Liwan, there's also "glass won ton" (玻璃雲吞 'bo lei wan tan'): a shrimp dumpling in a dough wrapper of such lightness that it appears transparent after cooking.
The broth is a refined decoction of dried flounder (roasted before use) and blanched pig bones, simmered and enriched with fresh meat and re-simmered.
I've heard of it, but have never seen it.
Yes, I am keenly curious.
AFTER THOUGHT II
This was going to be a very short post. It kind of grew.
Food posts do that.
==========================================================================
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LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, April 19, 2014
IT'S NOT PORRIDGE, IT'S RICE SOUP: CHOI PO FAN 菜泡飯
You've probably read a lot of mentions on this blog of rice porridge (粥 juk, "jook"), and seen me wax ecstatic over that simple preparation. The problem is that cooking jook takes attention and time if it's done properly.
Low temperature and frequent stirring to prevent scorching while helping the rice grains break down are key. You're aiming for something akin to gloop, yet spoonably thin. Add some broth, and either dried oysters (蠔豉 'hou si') or sliced preserved egg (皮蛋 'pei daan'), plus lean pork or sliced fresh fish.
Even dried fish (柴魚 'chai yü'), pork floss (肉鬆 'yiuk sung'), and fried peanuts (炸花生 'jaa faa sang').
An upscale version, with baby oysters and minced pork, is also a great idea: 蠔仔肉碎粥 ('hou chai yiuk seui juk')。
Rice porridge is profound comfort food.
But it isn't po fan.
上海菜泡飯 SEUNG HOI CHOI POU FAAN
Preparing po fan (泡飯 'soaked rice') starts hours before it is eaten, and requires hardly any effort at all. Soak well-rinsed rice in fresh water for a few hours, or overnight in the refrigerator. Drain, put in a pot with six to eight times as much liquid -- ideally, half water half stock -- and bring to a boil. Simmer for ten minutes till the rice has fluffed up, turn off.
Chop up a little fatty pork or bacon, plus small green cabbage (青菜), some leafy greens, scallion, and ginger. In a hot wok parch these ingredients briefly, seethe with a generous splash of rice wine (or use cooking sherry), then dump the rice and its liquid over.
Serve in bowls, accompanied by pressed pickle (榨菜 'ja choi'), sweet-soy and vinegar steeped daikon (醬蘿蔔 'jeung lo baak'), spicy bamboo shoot (辣筍茸 'laat suen yong'), rinsed and chopped snow cabbage (雪菜 'suet choi'), and perhaps a few small pieces of roast chicken.
Anything salty, savoury, spicy.
Eat with a spoon.
The key is that the rice grains are still distinct and whole.
It can also be made with leftover rice.
This, in essence, is the Shanghainese national dish. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, or whenever you feel like it.
Choi pou faan is not, however, restaurant fare. Consequently I would probably not expect it at one of my favourite eateries, though I'm absolutely certain they could make a stellar version.
上海飯店
BUND SHANGHAI RESTAURANT
640 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133.
Telephone: 415-982-0618
You'll find many other things to eat there, including several dishes not available elsewhere. The ambiance is very nice, the service is extremely courteous and considerate, and food is absolutely superb.
It would be the perfect place to take a date sometime.
Save the pou faan for a midnight snack.
Or breakfast together.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Low temperature and frequent stirring to prevent scorching while helping the rice grains break down are key. You're aiming for something akin to gloop, yet spoonably thin. Add some broth, and either dried oysters (蠔豉 'hou si') or sliced preserved egg (皮蛋 'pei daan'), plus lean pork or sliced fresh fish.
Even dried fish (柴魚 'chai yü'), pork floss (肉鬆 'yiuk sung'), and fried peanuts (炸花生 'jaa faa sang').
An upscale version, with baby oysters and minced pork, is also a great idea: 蠔仔肉碎粥 ('hou chai yiuk seui juk')。
Rice porridge is profound comfort food.
But it isn't po fan.
上海菜泡飯 SEUNG HOI CHOI POU FAAN
Preparing po fan (泡飯 'soaked rice') starts hours before it is eaten, and requires hardly any effort at all. Soak well-rinsed rice in fresh water for a few hours, or overnight in the refrigerator. Drain, put in a pot with six to eight times as much liquid -- ideally, half water half stock -- and bring to a boil. Simmer for ten minutes till the rice has fluffed up, turn off.
Chop up a little fatty pork or bacon, plus small green cabbage (青菜), some leafy greens, scallion, and ginger. In a hot wok parch these ingredients briefly, seethe with a generous splash of rice wine (or use cooking sherry), then dump the rice and its liquid over.
Serve in bowls, accompanied by pressed pickle (榨菜 'ja choi'), sweet-soy and vinegar steeped daikon (醬蘿蔔 'jeung lo baak'), spicy bamboo shoot (辣筍茸 'laat suen yong'), rinsed and chopped snow cabbage (雪菜 'suet choi'), and perhaps a few small pieces of roast chicken.
Anything salty, savoury, spicy.
Eat with a spoon.
The key is that the rice grains are still distinct and whole.
It can also be made with leftover rice.
This, in essence, is the Shanghainese national dish. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, or whenever you feel like it.
Choi pou faan is not, however, restaurant fare. Consequently I would probably not expect it at one of my favourite eateries, though I'm absolutely certain they could make a stellar version.
上海飯店
BUND SHANGHAI RESTAURANT
640 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133.
Telephone: 415-982-0618
You'll find many other things to eat there, including several dishes not available elsewhere. The ambiance is very nice, the service is extremely courteous and considerate, and food is absolutely superb.
It would be the perfect place to take a date sometime.
Save the pou faan for a midnight snack.
Or breakfast together.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, April 09, 2014
THERE WILL BE A TEST LATER
He and his little brother appear to have a wonderful relationship. Despite the HUGE age difference between them. One of them is just so much older than the other. And already in first grade! The little brother is only two, and barely even speaks. Certainly something so queer as a kwailo talking Cantonese is startlingly new, but equally baffling are the unintelligible sounds coming out of his older brother's mouth.
The older brother speaks English.
How extremely peculiar!
But, if the older brother feels unthreatened by the freak, the younger one will relax, and come closer to investigate. I think he was peering up my nostrils and trying to count the hairs at one point. He's a very disarming little fellow, and I suspect both kids will do very well academically.
The younger one may end up in science.
While the two year old boy examined me from several different angles, his brother engaged me in conversation. Children, as you can surmise, have no very great depth but immediate interests. Unlike adults, they are capable of entertaining several perhaps not related themes at the same time.
As interlocutors, they can be quite the ticket.
The older one, at six years old, has a very well developed vocabulary in English, and insisted that we use that tongue. Although every time he didn't know what the correct word was, he said it in Cantonese (tobacco pipe = 煙斗 yin dou) . At one point he asked whether I like paktonggou, and spoke Potongwa and Spanish?
Yes, I like white sugar glutinous rice fudge. It's very tasty, and settles the stomach marvelously after drinking too much the previous evening (a datum which I did not mention), and although I can speak a little mandarin, his dad is far better at it. Spanish, no. Yo quero una burrito con carnitas y salsa picante, sin frijoles, por favor. No mas.
He disagreed. His dad clearly does NOT speak Potongwa better, because he sometimes says very BAD things. Especially if you touch his stuff.
And speaking of bad things, was I a good man, or a bad man?
Well, I think I'm good. Not everyone does.
Why?
Not everybody agrees about people.
Was I then a bad man?
No.
Why not?
Because I don't do bad things.
Ney yam jau? [你飲酒？]
Mow. Ngoh mow yam jau. [冇。我冇飲酒。]
Gam, ney sik yin ge me?!? [噉，食煙嘅咩！？！]
["Do you drink alcohol?" 'Nope. I don't drink.' "But but but, you smoke?!?"]
I know he's of two minds about the smoking, because his grandpapa smokes a pipe. Maybe his grandpapa also drinks whiskey on occasion.
I decided to change the subject at that point, as I had told a little white lie;
I do indeed drink.
Most white people do, even if they don't smoke.
We only admit this on a need-to-know basis.
A six year old need not know.
He seemed to doubt my veracity, but then asked me if I spoke any other languages. I admitted to Dutch, and was promptly asked to demonstrate.
It sounded very foreign to him, was I perhaps European?
Well, no, I was born here.
He knew it!
He told me he wasn't born here, but his brother was. Which I already knew.
How did I know that? Because I've been coming here for over two years.
And, consequently, I can remember when his brother was still a baby.
Quite unlike the intellectually curious two year old he is today.
In any case, when I left, I had a firm invitation to come again, even if it's only for ten seconds, and even if I actually have to be in Marin that day. Never mind the hike, just come!
I'm sure his little brother agrees. The little fellow said 'bye bye' and gave me the most enchanting smile as he waved farewell.
I hope he remembers me when I return in a few weeks.
Both the six year old and the two year old are turning into fine young men.
Despite the shrieking auntie who desperately tried to reign them in earlier, and make them eat their lunch. And stop pulling their cousin's hair, even though she minded not a bit. Girl, shut up and eat your damned rice!
I was extremely happy when the auntie finally left.
Her angry shouting disturbed my own meal.
She's a frantic sort, easily bent out.
Probably not good with kids.
Smoking does NOT automatically mean that you drink, or are a bad man. Just so you know.
Despite what you may have heard.
AFTERTHOUGHT ONE: the six-year correctly guessed my age. Which is VERY irritating. But on the plus side, he assumed that I was still in high-school. Which is very good.
AFTERTHOUGH TWO: "gam chaau-chaau naau-naau jan hai yiu ge me? Yau pin-go sei-jo nei gam taai-seng chau kwai kiu ah? Haak-sei ngo ah!"
咁吵吵鬧鬧眞係要嘅咩？有邊個死咗你噉大聲臭鬼叫啊？嚇死我吖！
'Is such a frightful racket really necessary? Who the hell died that you should yell so? You're scaring me half to death!'
This is what I felt like saying to the bad-tempered auntie, except that I had no confidence I could've uttered all of it without bollicksing-up the tones and pronunciation to a fare-thee-well. Too tense for that.
One of these days, though, one of these days.
Need more practice speaking.
Eh, probably wouldn't do it even if I could.
It would be very forward and brassy.
Might be considered rude.
Far better not.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The older brother speaks English.
How extremely peculiar!
But, if the older brother feels unthreatened by the freak, the younger one will relax, and come closer to investigate. I think he was peering up my nostrils and trying to count the hairs at one point. He's a very disarming little fellow, and I suspect both kids will do very well academically.
The younger one may end up in science.
While the two year old boy examined me from several different angles, his brother engaged me in conversation. Children, as you can surmise, have no very great depth but immediate interests. Unlike adults, they are capable of entertaining several perhaps not related themes at the same time.
As interlocutors, they can be quite the ticket.
The older one, at six years old, has a very well developed vocabulary in English, and insisted that we use that tongue. Although every time he didn't know what the correct word was, he said it in Cantonese (tobacco pipe = 煙斗 yin dou) . At one point he asked whether I like paktonggou, and spoke Potongwa and Spanish?
Yes, I like white sugar glutinous rice fudge. It's very tasty, and settles the stomach marvelously after drinking too much the previous evening (a datum which I did not mention), and although I can speak a little mandarin, his dad is far better at it. Spanish, no. Yo quero una burrito con carnitas y salsa picante, sin frijoles, por favor. No mas.
He disagreed. His dad clearly does NOT speak Potongwa better, because he sometimes says very BAD things. Especially if you touch his stuff.
And speaking of bad things, was I a good man, or a bad man?
Well, I think I'm good. Not everyone does.
Why?
Not everybody agrees about people.
Was I then a bad man?
No.
Why not?
Because I don't do bad things.
Ney yam jau? [你飲酒？]
Mow. Ngoh mow yam jau. [冇。我冇飲酒。]
Gam, ney sik yin ge me?!? [噉，食煙嘅咩！？！]
["Do you drink alcohol?" 'Nope. I don't drink.' "But but but, you smoke?!?"]
I know he's of two minds about the smoking, because his grandpapa smokes a pipe. Maybe his grandpapa also drinks whiskey on occasion.
I decided to change the subject at that point, as I had told a little white lie;
I do indeed drink.
We only admit this on a need-to-know basis.
A six year old need not know.
He seemed to doubt my veracity, but then asked me if I spoke any other languages. I admitted to Dutch, and was promptly asked to demonstrate.
It sounded very foreign to him, was I perhaps European?
Well, no, I was born here.
He knew it!
He told me he wasn't born here, but his brother was. Which I already knew.
How did I know that? Because I've been coming here for over two years.
And, consequently, I can remember when his brother was still a baby.
Quite unlike the intellectually curious two year old he is today.
In any case, when I left, I had a firm invitation to come again, even if it's only for ten seconds, and even if I actually have to be in Marin that day. Never mind the hike, just come!
I'm sure his little brother agrees. The little fellow said 'bye bye' and gave me the most enchanting smile as he waved farewell.
I hope he remembers me when I return in a few weeks.
Both the six year old and the two year old are turning into fine young men.
Despite the shrieking auntie who desperately tried to reign them in earlier, and make them eat their lunch. And stop pulling their cousin's hair, even though she minded not a bit. Girl, shut up and eat your damned rice!
I was extremely happy when the auntie finally left.
Her angry shouting disturbed my own meal.
She's a frantic sort, easily bent out.
Probably not good with kids.
Smoking does NOT automatically mean that you drink, or are a bad man. Just so you know.
Despite what you may have heard.
AFTERTHOUGHT ONE: the six-year correctly guessed my age. Which is VERY irritating. But on the plus side, he assumed that I was still in high-school. Which is very good.
AFTERTHOUGH TWO: "gam chaau-chaau naau-naau jan hai yiu ge me? Yau pin-go sei-jo nei gam taai-seng chau kwai kiu ah? Haak-sei ngo ah!"
咁吵吵鬧鬧眞係要嘅咩？有邊個死咗你噉大聲臭鬼叫啊？嚇死我吖！
'Is such a frightful racket really necessary? Who the hell died that you should yell so? You're scaring me half to death!'
This is what I felt like saying to the bad-tempered auntie, except that I had no confidence I could've uttered all of it without bollicksing-up the tones and pronunciation to a fare-thee-well. Too tense for that.
One of these days, though, one of these days.
Need more practice speaking.
Eh, probably wouldn't do it even if I could.
It would be very forward and brassy.
Might be considered rude.
Far better not.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, September 28, 2013
HEAVEN COSTS LESS THAN FIVE BUCKS
Some things in life are worth every penny. At one of the places in Chinatown that I frequent, heaven costs less than five bucks. But I will never take anyone else there, nor will I mention its name or address.
Not because I begrudge my readers such pleasure, but because they likely will not be nearly as delighted with the food as I am.
It's very un-fancy.
One bowl of preserved egg and lean pork congee: $1.75
One fried dough stick, cut up: $1.50
Coffee: $1.00
[Preserved egg and lean pork congee: 皮蛋瘦肉粥 pei daan sau yiuk juk. Preserved egg: 皮蛋 pei daan. Lean meat: 瘦肉 sau yiuk; if not otherwise specified, 肉 always means pork. Congee: 粥 juk. Fried dough stick: 油條 yau tiu; a light airy dough strip deep fried, perfect for dunking in the congee, or, when cut, dumping on top. Because of the huge air pockets it floats and must be pushed under. The measure or numeral coefficient (counting word) for strips, wires, sticks, staffs, rods, or yau tiu, is 根 gan. Coffee: 咖啡 gaa fei; a thin black sludge made from burnt beans, which can be made drinkable by adding milk and sugar.]
It's one of my favourite lunches at this point. The quality is more than decent, especially for the price, the yau tiu is heung heung cheui cheui (香香脆脆), and among the very best in Chinatown, and despite their horrible countryside accents, the good folks running the place actually understand my even worse accented Cantonese.
They are from Toishan, I am not.
The father of the cute little tyke who returns there from school speaks excellent Mandarin, though. Found that out the other day.
嘩，佢識講國語好過我吖！
[Wow! He speaks 'national language' better than me!]
What, I hear you asking, is so remarkable about that? Well, usually Cantonese people have rather frightful accents in Mandarin, and in addition to tone-errors they cannot pronounce certain crucial sounds. Plus they tend to translate word-for-word instead of re-formulating.
Whereas white folks who have learned Mandarin frequently have nearly school-perfect pronunciation -- for their extremely limited though excruciatingly correct vocabularies -- and it is normally and naturally assumed that if the kwailo speaks a little bit of Cantonese, why then surely he speaks much, much more Mandarin.
This kwailo doesn't.
My Mandarin stinks; it's barely even above the "me Tonto, you Jane" variety. But I can recognize lovely diction, as well as a furry Pekingese accent, when I hear it.
It's starting to irritate me that a fair number of Cantonese people in Chinatown speak better Mandarin than I do. Somehow I feel less adequately kwailo because of it.
Still, the rice porridge and the dough stick are exactly to my taste, the coffee is tolerable, and I will continue to go there. Despite there being a Mandarin-speaker on the premises. That's something they cannot help, it would be grossly unfair to hold it against them.
Heaven costs four bucks twenty five.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Not because I begrudge my readers such pleasure, but because they likely will not be nearly as delighted with the food as I am.
It's very un-fancy.
One bowl of preserved egg and lean pork congee: $1.75
One fried dough stick, cut up: $1.50
Coffee: $1.00
[Preserved egg and lean pork congee: 皮蛋瘦肉粥 pei daan sau yiuk juk. Preserved egg: 皮蛋 pei daan. Lean meat: 瘦肉 sau yiuk; if not otherwise specified, 肉 always means pork. Congee: 粥 juk. Fried dough stick: 油條 yau tiu; a light airy dough strip deep fried, perfect for dunking in the congee, or, when cut, dumping on top. Because of the huge air pockets it floats and must be pushed under. The measure or numeral coefficient (counting word) for strips, wires, sticks, staffs, rods, or yau tiu, is 根 gan. Coffee: 咖啡 gaa fei; a thin black sludge made from burnt beans, which can be made drinkable by adding milk and sugar.]
It's one of my favourite lunches at this point. The quality is more than decent, especially for the price, the yau tiu is heung heung cheui cheui (香香脆脆), and among the very best in Chinatown, and despite their horrible countryside accents, the good folks running the place actually understand my even worse accented Cantonese.
They are from Toishan, I am not.
The father of the cute little tyke who returns there from school speaks excellent Mandarin, though. Found that out the other day.
嘩，佢識講國語好過我吖！
[Wow! He speaks 'national language' better than me!]
What, I hear you asking, is so remarkable about that? Well, usually Cantonese people have rather frightful accents in Mandarin, and in addition to tone-errors they cannot pronounce certain crucial sounds. Plus they tend to translate word-for-word instead of re-formulating.
Whereas white folks who have learned Mandarin frequently have nearly school-perfect pronunciation -- for their extremely limited though excruciatingly correct vocabularies -- and it is normally and naturally assumed that if the kwailo speaks a little bit of Cantonese, why then surely he speaks much, much more Mandarin.
This kwailo doesn't.
My Mandarin stinks; it's barely even above the "me Tonto, you Jane" variety. But I can recognize lovely diction, as well as a furry Pekingese accent, when I hear it.
It's starting to irritate me that a fair number of Cantonese people in Chinatown speak better Mandarin than I do. Somehow I feel less adequately kwailo because of it.
Still, the rice porridge and the dough stick are exactly to my taste, the coffee is tolerable, and I will continue to go there. Despite there being a Mandarin-speaker on the premises. That's something they cannot help, it would be grossly unfair to hold it against them.
Heaven costs four bucks twenty five.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
PERFECT FOR OWLS
What do you do on a rainy summer day in San Francisco when you're alone in the house? Naturally you take a very long bath. The sound of gentle precipitation outside replaces the usual bird noise, even the parrots do not fly overhead.
They're probably down at the Embarcadero chattering in the tall trees.
Long bath. Hot soapy water. Luxuriate.
It's going to be a leisurely day.
At around one o'clock you head down the hill to Yummy Fast Food & Dim Sum on Stockton Street for some preserved egg and lean pork congee, plus an oil-stick. Simple, satisfying. Slightly decadent.
Because it's hot and smooth and sensual.
Comfort food. Perfect for wetness.
[Yummy Fast Food: 金華點心快餐 (kam wa dim sam faai chan), located at 930 Stockton Street, between Clay and Washington. Preserved egg and lean pork congee: 皮蛋瘦肉粥 (pei daan sau yiuk juk). Congee: 粥 (juk), rice porridge.
Oil-stick: 油條 (yau tiu), which is a plain dough strip deep fried, puffed-up and airy, perfect for dipping in your rice porridge. All together $3.20, four plus if you also have a beverage. Leave something in the tip-jar to show your appreciation.]
Really, why not? Might as well enjoy the slowness of rainy days; they are so few and so precious in California at this time. And even the streets look nicer when it drizzles.
If you're me, lunch ('breakfast') is after the first two pipes of the day. The first bowl was a dark aged Virginia, the second one a soft buttery blonde. The third one will be started after I leave Yummy Fast Food. I'll probably spend an hour or two in Chinatown, people watching. Which must mean observing locals with newspapers held above their heads, and tourists in shorts and t-shirts looking very baffled indeed.
California is not supposed to be cold OR wet! What happened?
We've been cheated!
Where are the busty blondines running in slo-mo towards the surf?
The bronzed hunk-o-ramas with their long, long boards?
They lied! Bay Watch was NOT filmed here!
Sorry for the disappointment, folks. Thank you for visiting. There's nothing we can do about the weather. San Francisco is not your grandma's California. The climate is eccentric.
I'm enjoying it, though.
Probably going to be in C'town till around three or three thirty. That's enough time to smoke two pipefulls. Same tobaccos as earlier today.
Tordenskjold Virginia Slices. It's seven years old.
Stokkebye 4th. Generation. 1855. From October.
By the way, the title of this post has a simple explanation:
I'm wearing my boxers with the happy green owls today.
You cannot see them, but I know they're there.
And I think they're extremely cute.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
They're probably down at the Embarcadero chattering in the tall trees.
Long bath. Hot soapy water. Luxuriate.
It's going to be a leisurely day.
At around one o'clock you head down the hill to Yummy Fast Food & Dim Sum on Stockton Street for some preserved egg and lean pork congee, plus an oil-stick. Simple, satisfying. Slightly decadent.
Because it's hot and smooth and sensual.
Comfort food. Perfect for wetness.
[Yummy Fast Food: 金華點心快餐 (kam wa dim sam faai chan), located at 930 Stockton Street, between Clay and Washington. Preserved egg and lean pork congee: 皮蛋瘦肉粥 (pei daan sau yiuk juk). Congee: 粥 (juk), rice porridge.
Oil-stick: 油條 (yau tiu), which is a plain dough strip deep fried, puffed-up and airy, perfect for dipping in your rice porridge. All together $3.20, four plus if you also have a beverage. Leave something in the tip-jar to show your appreciation.]
Really, why not? Might as well enjoy the slowness of rainy days; they are so few and so precious in California at this time. And even the streets look nicer when it drizzles.
If you're me, lunch ('breakfast') is after the first two pipes of the day. The first bowl was a dark aged Virginia, the second one a soft buttery blonde. The third one will be started after I leave Yummy Fast Food. I'll probably spend an hour or two in Chinatown, people watching. Which must mean observing locals with newspapers held above their heads, and tourists in shorts and t-shirts looking very baffled indeed.
California is not supposed to be cold OR wet! What happened?
We've been cheated!
Where are the busty blondines running in slo-mo towards the surf?
The bronzed hunk-o-ramas with their long, long boards?
They lied! Bay Watch was NOT filmed here!
Sorry for the disappointment, folks. Thank you for visiting. There's nothing we can do about the weather. San Francisco is not your grandma's California. The climate is eccentric.
I'm enjoying it, though.
Probably going to be in C'town till around three or three thirty. That's enough time to smoke two pipefulls. Same tobaccos as earlier today.
Tordenskjold Virginia Slices. It's seven years old.
Stokkebye 4th. Generation. 1855. From October.
By the way, the title of this post has a simple explanation:
I'm wearing my boxers with the happy green owls today.
You cannot see them, but I know they're there.
And I think they're extremely cute.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, May 24, 2013
GENEROUS RICE PORRIDGE
If you really think about it, rice porridge (粥 jook) is a man's preference. Women of appetite are more likely to go for something salty-greasy.
They're carnivores (肉食性類 yiuk sik sing leui), whereas men are more refined (斯文啲 si man di) and gentle (柔順 yau seun).
You don't believe me?
你唔信嘅?
Then please explain The Real Housewives of Orange County. Those girls are piranhas (水虎魚 sui fu yü). If they had cleavers (好大嘅厨用肉刀 ho daai ge chü yong yiuk dou), they would've eaten each other by now.
Project Runway?
Meanest and most brutal bitches in Christendom.
The reason why men like rice porridge is because it's so suggestive of the good things in life.
Cream (奶油 nai you), wholesome grains (五穀 ng guk), sweetness (甜味 tim mei), paperhangers' paste (壁紙黏物 bik ji jim mat).
Ivory (好白的象牙 ho paak dik jeung ngaa), purity (特純 dak seun), mom's cooking (家常菜 gaa seung choi).
Comfort (冷暖同慰籍 laang nuen tong wai jik), friendship (友誼 yau yi), warmth (慰情 wai jing).
Women (女人 neui yan).
Imagine then, for purely academic purposes (because it will never happen), an innocent young lady (一個好淑嘅家庭女 yat go ho suk ge gaa ting neui) indulging in a big bowl of rice porridge. With lean pork (瘦肉 sau yiuk) and dried oysters (蠔豉 ho si).
蠔豉瘦肉粥 HO SI SAU YIUK JUK
Carefully, tenderly, she drew the warm bowl closer to her, with great greed inhaling the luscious fragrance, the steam of its very essence. How beautiful! The minced scallion atop the porridge provided a jade counterpoint to the pale and almost translucent nephritic content, like marble in its purity.
Underneath the surface the fragments of meat were barely visible, and occasional darker shapes betrayed the dessicated bivalve.
She lifted her porcelain spoon and dipped it, drawing forth the merest moutful of the creamy goodness. Mmmmmmmmm!
Hot, but so very good. It needed a touch of white pepper. After agitating the shaker over the bowl, she swirled the thin film of grey with her spoon, forming vortices of spice. She leaned forward, and dipped-in slowly and repeatedly, taking care that her utensil should not gather too much; she didn't want to burn her lips. The smooth rice gruel filled and soothed, her tongue tasting the subtle flavours and feeling the soft textures. A bead of sweat, unnoticed, trailed down a velvety cheek, paused trembling on her chin, and silently joined the liquid below, adding a secret savoury private note to her simple supper.
The dried oysters had become soft, almost creamy, yet were still richly flavourful and densely meaty. Their briny saveur had mingled with the demulcerous suspension, and the tender pork had likewise benefitted from that shared generosity. Strands of slivered ginger added their excitement, and scallion contributed a sharp grassy depth on the edge of taste.
With each luxurious spoonful she became happier and more content. Truly, this was the pillar of life. What could possibly be more comforting than a bowl of rice porridge?
Whether cold winter day, or sultry summer evening, naked after the bath or fully clothed (because one had to wear something!), alone or with dear friends......... Each day should have this sweetness, and every meal should be so languid and so gentle!
Her face was flushed and glowing when she finished eating, and her delicate eyebrows dimpled in unconscious disappointment that her pleasure had ended so soon. Yet it had been a marvelous lunch! How wonderful to have this available so close to work, and how very sad that her office-mates stubbornly remained both clueless and ignorant of this pure delight!
******
I don't know about you, but I'm all excited now. In my mind's eye I envision myself observing this across the table from me, while I take satisfaction with a cup of milk-tea (一杯奶茶 yat pui naai cha). And I know just the right restaurant (茶餐廳 cha chan teng) where this could happen. I wonder if they'd be willing to fold chunks of fresh lobster (龍蝦 lung haa) into the rice porridge instead? With some ginger (碎薑 seui geung) and scallion (青蔥 ching tsung), and a restrained drizzle of sesame oil (麻油 maa yau), it would be a total sensory overload, most delicious!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
They're carnivores (肉食性類 yiuk sik sing leui), whereas men are more refined (斯文啲 si man di) and gentle (柔順 yau seun).
You don't believe me?
你唔信嘅?
Then please explain The Real Housewives of Orange County. Those girls are piranhas (水虎魚 sui fu yü). If they had cleavers (好大嘅厨用肉刀 ho daai ge chü yong yiuk dou), they would've eaten each other by now.
Project Runway?
Meanest and most brutal bitches in Christendom.
The reason why men like rice porridge is because it's so suggestive of the good things in life.
Cream (奶油 nai you), wholesome grains (五穀 ng guk), sweetness (甜味 tim mei), paperhangers' paste (壁紙黏物 bik ji jim mat).
Ivory (好白的象牙 ho paak dik jeung ngaa), purity (特純 dak seun), mom's cooking (家常菜 gaa seung choi).
Comfort (冷暖同慰籍 laang nuen tong wai jik), friendship (友誼 yau yi), warmth (慰情 wai jing).
Women (女人 neui yan).
Imagine then, for purely academic purposes (because it will never happen), an innocent young lady (一個好淑嘅家庭女 yat go ho suk ge gaa ting neui) indulging in a big bowl of rice porridge. With lean pork (瘦肉 sau yiuk) and dried oysters (蠔豉 ho si).
蠔豉瘦肉粥 HO SI SAU YIUK JUK
Carefully, tenderly, she drew the warm bowl closer to her, with great greed inhaling the luscious fragrance, the steam of its very essence. How beautiful! The minced scallion atop the porridge provided a jade counterpoint to the pale and almost translucent nephritic content, like marble in its purity.
Underneath the surface the fragments of meat were barely visible, and occasional darker shapes betrayed the dessicated bivalve.
She lifted her porcelain spoon and dipped it, drawing forth the merest moutful of the creamy goodness. Mmmmmmmmm!
Hot, but so very good. It needed a touch of white pepper. After agitating the shaker over the bowl, she swirled the thin film of grey with her spoon, forming vortices of spice. She leaned forward, and dipped-in slowly and repeatedly, taking care that her utensil should not gather too much; she didn't want to burn her lips. The smooth rice gruel filled and soothed, her tongue tasting the subtle flavours and feeling the soft textures. A bead of sweat, unnoticed, trailed down a velvety cheek, paused trembling on her chin, and silently joined the liquid below, adding a secret savoury private note to her simple supper.
The dried oysters had become soft, almost creamy, yet were still richly flavourful and densely meaty. Their briny saveur had mingled with the demulcerous suspension, and the tender pork had likewise benefitted from that shared generosity. Strands of slivered ginger added their excitement, and scallion contributed a sharp grassy depth on the edge of taste.
With each luxurious spoonful she became happier and more content. Truly, this was the pillar of life. What could possibly be more comforting than a bowl of rice porridge?
Whether cold winter day, or sultry summer evening, naked after the bath or fully clothed (because one had to wear something!), alone or with dear friends......... Each day should have this sweetness, and every meal should be so languid and so gentle!
Her face was flushed and glowing when she finished eating, and her delicate eyebrows dimpled in unconscious disappointment that her pleasure had ended so soon. Yet it had been a marvelous lunch! How wonderful to have this available so close to work, and how very sad that her office-mates stubbornly remained both clueless and ignorant of this pure delight!
******
I don't know about you, but I'm all excited now. In my mind's eye I envision myself observing this across the table from me, while I take satisfaction with a cup of milk-tea (一杯奶茶 yat pui naai cha). And I know just the right restaurant (茶餐廳 cha chan teng) where this could happen. I wonder if they'd be willing to fold chunks of fresh lobster (龍蝦 lung haa) into the rice porridge instead? With some ginger (碎薑 seui geung) and scallion (青蔥 ching tsung), and a restrained drizzle of sesame oil (麻油 maa yau), it would be a total sensory overload, most delicious!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, December 01, 2012
BEST RICE PORRIDGE IN SAN FRANCISCO
That was a truly beautiful bowl of rice porridge!
I have rarely encountered such perfection.
Absolutely stellar and soul-satisfying.
Yesterday I went over to my bank, then stopped in Chinatown for a bit of lunch. There's a new place on Pacific, which does simple Cantonese urban eats. The kind of stuff that when you want it, nothing else even comes close. But it isn't what you would expect in your neighborhood, unless you live here.
銀都雲吞麵
YIN DU WONTON NOODLE
648 Pacific Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94133
415-834-9388
Between Grant and Kearny, opposite Ping Yuen Estates.
Closer to Grant Avenue than Kearny Street.
Open from 7:00 A.M. to 8:00 P.M.
Normally I will not take the trouble to transcribe the entire menu. But this place is sufficiently excellent that it would be quite unfair to the readers not to leave their mouths watering.
Think in terms of breakfast, lunch, dinner, or a light meal anytime of day.
湯麵類 NOODLE SOUP
鮮蝦雲吞 Wonton (shrimp & pork) soup: $4.30
鮮蝦雲吞麵 Wonton (shrimp & pork) noodle soup: $4.30
牛腩雲吞 Stewed beef brisket & wonton soup: $4.95
牛腩雲吞麵 Stewed beef brisket & wonton noodle soup: $4.95
水餃麵 Dumpling noodle soup: $4.30
淨水餃 Dumpling soup: $4.30
柱侯牛腩麵 Stewed beef brisket & noodle soup: $4.95
柱侯牛腩粉 Stewed beef brisket & rice noodle soup: $4.95
火鴨雲吞麵 Roast duck wonton noodle soup: $4.95
撈麵類 DISHED NOODLES
蠔油撈麵 Oyster sauce with noodles: $4.15
牛腩撈麵 Beef brisket noodles with vegetable: $5.95
牛筋撈麵 Beef tendon noodles: $5.95
南乳豬手撈麵 Pig's feet noodles: $5.25
京都炸醬麵(辣) Szechuan sauce noodles: $4.30
魚丸撈麵 Fish ball noodles: $4.30
粥類 CONGEE
蠔豉瘦肉粥 Dried oyster & pork congee: $4.25
豬肚肉片粥 Pork liver & pork congee: $4.25
滑雞粥 Boneless chicken congee: $4.25
魚片粥 Fish congee: $4.50
豬潤粥 Pork liver congee: $3.95
豬紅粥 Chao huyet congee: $3.95
豬什粥 Pork miscellany congee: $4.50
皮蛋瘦肉粥 Preserved egg & pork congee: $3.95
及第粥 Mixed meats congee: $4.50
生滾牛肉粥 Sliced beef congee: $4.50
白粥 Plain congee: $2.25
飯類 RICE
蜜汁叉燒飯 Barbecued pork over rice: $5.95
柱侯牛腩飯 Stewed beef brisket with rice: $5.95
咖喱牛腩飯 Curry beef with rice: $5.95
咖喱雞飯 Curry chicken rice: $5.95
南乳豬手飯 Pig's feet with rice: $5.30
蒸排骨飯 Steamed pork ribs with rice: $4.50
小菜 SIDE ORDER
蠔油芥蘭 Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce: $4.25
白灼牛百葉 Steamed beef tripe: $5.95
白灼豬腰,豬潤 Steamed pork kidney & pork liver: $5.95
咖喱魚蛋 Curry fish ball: $4.50
南乳豬手 Pig's feet: $4.50
蠔油菜芯,白菜 Oyster sauce choisum or bok choy: $4.25
飲品 DRINK
咖啡 CoFfee: $1.50 (hot) $1.80 (cold)
奶茶 Milk tea: $1.80 (hot) $2.30 (cold)
檸檬茶 Lemon tea: $1.60 (hot) $1.90 (cold)
檸檬 Lemon honey drink: $1.80 (hot) $2.20 (cold)
汽水 Soft drinks: $1.25
There now. Isn't all that ever so appetizing? Even with the occasional gap in comprehension, you should have a very good idea of the food.
The place is clean, bright, and friendly.
An entire family works there.
That bowl of rice porridge may very well have been the best I've ever had.
一碗都成開心!
They don't have yautiu (油條), but I didn't even miss them. The pork was super high quality, and cut just right. Small chopped preserved egg added, along with slivered ginger and minced scallion. Cilantro on top.
It was gorgeous.
Their Hongkong style milk-tea is also wonderful.
Judging by this first experience, I need to go there again and again, just to sample everything they do and decide on favourites. There may, consequently, be a rash of further joyous reviews of Yin Du Wonton Noodle here over the next several months.
NOTES:
Stewed beef brisket is a very Hongkong dish.
Namyu pork knuckle (南乳豬手) is typically Hakka. Fish balls are firm and bouncy, and do not resemble gefilte fish at all. Dried oyster is a wonderfull rich flavouring ingredient with which you must become familiar. The best types come from Japan.
What they've "translated" as 'chao huyet' is actually gelled cubed pig's blood: chu huet (豬血). Good for women who need extra iron, as well as delicious and traditional.
What I have rendered as pork miscellany are various organ meats.
And milk tea is milk tea.
It's like somebody plonked down a slice of Hongkong in San Francisco's Chinatown. In every way a very welcome addition. I wish them success and prosperity.
A better place for a rainy afternoon I cannot imagine.
I was happy as a clam when I left.
Oh lordy yes.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I have rarely encountered such perfection.
Absolutely stellar and soul-satisfying.
Yesterday I went over to my bank, then stopped in Chinatown for a bit of lunch. There's a new place on Pacific, which does simple Cantonese urban eats. The kind of stuff that when you want it, nothing else even comes close. But it isn't what you would expect in your neighborhood, unless you live here.
銀都雲吞麵
YIN DU WONTON NOODLE
648 Pacific Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94133
415-834-9388
Between Grant and Kearny, opposite Ping Yuen Estates.
Closer to Grant Avenue than Kearny Street.
Open from 7:00 A.M. to 8:00 P.M.
Normally I will not take the trouble to transcribe the entire menu. But this place is sufficiently excellent that it would be quite unfair to the readers not to leave their mouths watering.
Think in terms of breakfast, lunch, dinner, or a light meal anytime of day.
湯麵類 NOODLE SOUP
鮮蝦雲吞 Wonton (shrimp & pork) soup: $4.30
鮮蝦雲吞麵 Wonton (shrimp & pork) noodle soup: $4.30
牛腩雲吞 Stewed beef brisket & wonton soup: $4.95
牛腩雲吞麵 Stewed beef brisket & wonton noodle soup: $4.95
水餃麵 Dumpling noodle soup: $4.30
淨水餃 Dumpling soup: $4.30
柱侯牛腩麵 Stewed beef brisket & noodle soup: $4.95
柱侯牛腩粉 Stewed beef brisket & rice noodle soup: $4.95
火鴨雲吞麵 Roast duck wonton noodle soup: $4.95
撈麵類 DISHED NOODLES
蠔油撈麵 Oyster sauce with noodles: $4.15
牛腩撈麵 Beef brisket noodles with vegetable: $5.95
牛筋撈麵 Beef tendon noodles: $5.95
南乳豬手撈麵 Pig's feet noodles: $5.25
京都炸醬麵(辣) Szechuan sauce noodles: $4.30
魚丸撈麵 Fish ball noodles: $4.30
粥類 CONGEE
蠔豉瘦肉粥 Dried oyster & pork congee: $4.25
豬肚肉片粥 Pork liver & pork congee: $4.25
滑雞粥 Boneless chicken congee: $4.25
魚片粥 Fish congee: $4.50
豬潤粥 Pork liver congee: $3.95
豬紅粥 Chao huyet congee: $3.95
豬什粥 Pork miscellany congee: $4.50
皮蛋瘦肉粥 Preserved egg & pork congee: $3.95
及第粥 Mixed meats congee: $4.50
生滾牛肉粥 Sliced beef congee: $4.50
白粥 Plain congee: $2.25
飯類 RICE
蜜汁叉燒飯 Barbecued pork over rice: $5.95
柱侯牛腩飯 Stewed beef brisket with rice: $5.95
咖喱牛腩飯 Curry beef with rice: $5.95
咖喱雞飯 Curry chicken rice: $5.95
南乳豬手飯 Pig's feet with rice: $5.30
蒸排骨飯 Steamed pork ribs with rice: $4.50
小菜 SIDE ORDER
蠔油芥蘭 Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce: $4.25
白灼牛百葉 Steamed beef tripe: $5.95
白灼豬腰,豬潤 Steamed pork kidney & pork liver: $5.95
咖喱魚蛋 Curry fish ball: $4.50
南乳豬手 Pig's feet: $4.50
蠔油菜芯,白菜 Oyster sauce choisum or bok choy: $4.25
飲品 DRINK
咖啡 CoFfee: $1.50 (hot) $1.80 (cold)
奶茶 Milk tea: $1.80 (hot) $2.30 (cold)
檸檬茶 Lemon tea: $1.60 (hot) $1.90 (cold)
檸檬 Lemon honey drink: $1.80 (hot) $2.20 (cold)
汽水 Soft drinks: $1.25
There now. Isn't all that ever so appetizing? Even with the occasional gap in comprehension, you should have a very good idea of the food.
The place is clean, bright, and friendly.
An entire family works there.
That bowl of rice porridge may very well have been the best I've ever had.
一碗都成開心!
They don't have yautiu (油條), but I didn't even miss them. The pork was super high quality, and cut just right. Small chopped preserved egg added, along with slivered ginger and minced scallion. Cilantro on top.
It was gorgeous.
Their Hongkong style milk-tea is also wonderful.
Judging by this first experience, I need to go there again and again, just to sample everything they do and decide on favourites. There may, consequently, be a rash of further joyous reviews of Yin Du Wonton Noodle here over the next several months.
NOTES:
Stewed beef brisket is a very Hongkong dish.
Namyu pork knuckle (南乳豬手) is typically Hakka. Fish balls are firm and bouncy, and do not resemble gefilte fish at all. Dried oyster is a wonderfull rich flavouring ingredient with which you must become familiar. The best types come from Japan.
What they've "translated" as 'chao huyet' is actually gelled cubed pig's blood: chu huet (豬血). Good for women who need extra iron, as well as delicious and traditional.
What I have rendered as pork miscellany are various organ meats.
And milk tea is milk tea.
It's like somebody plonked down a slice of Hongkong in San Francisco's Chinatown. In every way a very welcome addition. I wish them success and prosperity.
A better place for a rainy afternoon I cannot imagine.
I was happy as a clam when I left.
Oh lordy yes.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, November 25, 2012
FOOD INSPIRES POSSIBILITIES
Today I ate Leung-gwa Pan-kau Fan at a restaurant across the hill. It's one of my favorite dishes, but not anything special. A very simple mix-up of bitter melon and fresh fish collops, with a little blackbean gravy, over rice.
Very heavenly with a sploodge of hot sauce.
Many things are heavenly with a sploodge.
You can also make it at home. Just slice up the bitter melon as appropriate after cutting it in half to remove the pith and seeds. Salt it down, let it sit a while, then rinse and drain. The salting removes bitterness and makes it juicier. It's not really a melon, more like a gourd. Albeit one with a beautiful apple green hue, and ridged bumpy skin. Very healthy, and nicely bitter.
I barely salt it at all, as I am very fond of the taste.
Crisp, grassy-herby vegetal, bitter bitter bitter!
涼瓜斑球飯
After cutting the fish, let it sit for a while in egg-white whisked with a little corn-starch. That way it will firm-up nicely when tossed in the hot pan, while remaining clean and white looking. The salted black beans (豆豉) should be mashed with a little sherry. Also julienne some ginger.
A deft hand adds each ingredient to the pan at the right time, then splashes in a little sherry and clean stock to provide a sizzle and a sauce.
On top of or next to a mound of rice, it is a wonderful meal.
Simple, uncomplicated. Green, black, white.
Perfect lunch counter food.
Some dishes are best made at home, however. The reason being that one restaurant serving would be too much of a single ingredient, and might lead to a bloat.
Stuffed is okay. Filled up is good.
Bloat, however........
Consider, as an example, steamed five flower pork (蒸五花腩). If that is all that you had with your rice, you would think that you ate too much. No amount of cigars and hot tea will bring quick relief.
It, also, is easy to prepare at home: cut the meat into big chunks, rub with a little shrimp paste (鹹蝦醬) and optionally tomato ketchup (a novel idea, but it works), then put it in a bowl with a lot of shredded ginger and steam for an hour and half or more. It will be meltingly tender, rich, juicy, smooth. The ginger is essential.
All meats should be rubbed - fatty cuts with spice and condiment ere steaming, lean firm meat with oil before you slap it into the hot pan.
They are just nicer, if treated well.
I am exceptionally fond of steamed five flower pork. Nothing says home style comfort food quite like this, alongside a simple vegetable, and some rice. And it's perfect for sharing.
THE HOME KITCHEN
If you think about it, the most secure and comfortable room in the house is the kitchen, which almost everyone automatically associates with warmth, safety, good things, and happy feelings. It is where you feel most at ease, and are at your most relaxed. Largely because it's an unpretentious and utile place, where everything is reassuringly familiar.
And it smells so good!
Home-baked pizza is a marvelous aroma. So is basted turkey, so are roasts, stir-fried foods, casseroles in the oven, slow stews, and soup.
Tea, coffee, cacao, fresh ginger.
Spices, fruits, herbs.
Clean scents.
Citrus.
粥
One preparation of which I am inordinately fond, though it probably will not impress you in the slightest, is rice porridge (jook). Very often I will have it somewhere in Chinatown, but it should really be made at home. It tastes better that way.
One problem is that it is easy to end up with far too much of it.
Plus it will take a while before it's ready.
Preparing it is very simple. The proportions, though variable, are more or less ten or twelve parts liquid to one part rice. Rinse the rice to remove some of the excess starch and the impurities, then bring to a roiling boil in the liquid, turn the heat low, and simmer till the rice has fallen apart and become cloudy - creamy - smooth.
This takes several hours, and care must be taken that it does not burn or stick to the bottom of the pot. Use a heat-absorber, and stir often.
The liquid should contain a good amount of clear stock, for richness, and in the last half hour you should add goodies to cook along. Dried oysters (rinsed, soaked, cut in half), as well as some rehydrated black mushrooms and their soaking liquid. Maybe even a few pieces of Chinese sausage (臘腸).
Just before serving, stir in some sliced lean pork (瘦肉絲) or roast duck (火鴨), perhaps finely sliced fish (魚片) or chicken liver (雞肝), slivered ginger, and a drop or two of dark Chinese sesame oil (麻油) for fragrance. Garnish with chives (韭菜), and add ground white pepper to taste.
Unlike some of the other things I have mentioned, a sploodge of hot sauce is not a brilliant idea this time. That's just how it is.
Rice porridge is comfort food. Pure and sincere, affection in a bowl.
It's a warm embrace, a soft kiss on the cheek, a fond glance.
Appropriate whenever, and cheering at all times.
It's what your heart desires.
Happiness.
It's easy to add too much rice. Then compensate by adding more much liquid. And then more rice. If you're not careful, the quantity of porridge grows exponentially. And because of its creaminess and thickness, it is hard to reduce. If it is too thick, it becomes slow and gluggy, and if cooked long without enough stirring, muddy lumps may form.
On the other hand, a shortcut that works very well is to first cook the rice in just enough water till it is soft, then mix it with plenty of cold chicken stock, dump it in the blender, and whir it smooth. Another hour of slow cooking after that and it will be just right. When blending, I often add a piece of carrot, for sweetness and a faint warmth to the hue.
Porridge with black mushrooms, dried oysters, or preserved egg.
Jook (粥), tong gu (冬菇), ho si (蠔豉), pei dan (皮蛋).
Strewn with finely minced chives.
White, black, and green.
The taste of love.
The kitchen is the most magical room in the house. It is where you let your guard down, and where all your secrets are safe. This is where you entertain your dearest friends, and enjoy the nicest moments. A place of confidence, and pleasant memory. It is where you reveal yourself, and remain at ease.
The kitchen is the safest place.
Private, intimate.
Relaxed.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Very heavenly with a sploodge of hot sauce.
Many things are heavenly with a sploodge.
You can also make it at home. Just slice up the bitter melon as appropriate after cutting it in half to remove the pith and seeds. Salt it down, let it sit a while, then rinse and drain. The salting removes bitterness and makes it juicier. It's not really a melon, more like a gourd. Albeit one with a beautiful apple green hue, and ridged bumpy skin. Very healthy, and nicely bitter.
I barely salt it at all, as I am very fond of the taste.
Crisp, grassy-herby vegetal, bitter bitter bitter!
涼瓜斑球飯
After cutting the fish, let it sit for a while in egg-white whisked with a little corn-starch. That way it will firm-up nicely when tossed in the hot pan, while remaining clean and white looking. The salted black beans (豆豉) should be mashed with a little sherry. Also julienne some ginger.
A deft hand adds each ingredient to the pan at the right time, then splashes in a little sherry and clean stock to provide a sizzle and a sauce.
On top of or next to a mound of rice, it is a wonderful meal.
Simple, uncomplicated. Green, black, white.
Perfect lunch counter food.
Some dishes are best made at home, however. The reason being that one restaurant serving would be too much of a single ingredient, and might lead to a bloat.
Stuffed is okay. Filled up is good.
Bloat, however........
Consider, as an example, steamed five flower pork (蒸五花腩). If that is all that you had with your rice, you would think that you ate too much. No amount of cigars and hot tea will bring quick relief.
It, also, is easy to prepare at home: cut the meat into big chunks, rub with a little shrimp paste (鹹蝦醬) and optionally tomato ketchup (a novel idea, but it works), then put it in a bowl with a lot of shredded ginger and steam for an hour and half or more. It will be meltingly tender, rich, juicy, smooth. The ginger is essential.
All meats should be rubbed - fatty cuts with spice and condiment ere steaming, lean firm meat with oil before you slap it into the hot pan.
They are just nicer, if treated well.
I am exceptionally fond of steamed five flower pork. Nothing says home style comfort food quite like this, alongside a simple vegetable, and some rice. And it's perfect for sharing.
THE HOME KITCHEN
If you think about it, the most secure and comfortable room in the house is the kitchen, which almost everyone automatically associates with warmth, safety, good things, and happy feelings. It is where you feel most at ease, and are at your most relaxed. Largely because it's an unpretentious and utile place, where everything is reassuringly familiar.
And it smells so good!
Home-baked pizza is a marvelous aroma. So is basted turkey, so are roasts, stir-fried foods, casseroles in the oven, slow stews, and soup.
Tea, coffee, cacao, fresh ginger.
Spices, fruits, herbs.
Clean scents.
Citrus.
粥
One preparation of which I am inordinately fond, though it probably will not impress you in the slightest, is rice porridge (jook). Very often I will have it somewhere in Chinatown, but it should really be made at home. It tastes better that way.
One problem is that it is easy to end up with far too much of it.
Plus it will take a while before it's ready.
Preparing it is very simple. The proportions, though variable, are more or less ten or twelve parts liquid to one part rice. Rinse the rice to remove some of the excess starch and the impurities, then bring to a roiling boil in the liquid, turn the heat low, and simmer till the rice has fallen apart and become cloudy - creamy - smooth.
This takes several hours, and care must be taken that it does not burn or stick to the bottom of the pot. Use a heat-absorber, and stir often.
The liquid should contain a good amount of clear stock, for richness, and in the last half hour you should add goodies to cook along. Dried oysters (rinsed, soaked, cut in half), as well as some rehydrated black mushrooms and their soaking liquid. Maybe even a few pieces of Chinese sausage (臘腸).
Just before serving, stir in some sliced lean pork (瘦肉絲) or roast duck (火鴨), perhaps finely sliced fish (魚片) or chicken liver (雞肝), slivered ginger, and a drop or two of dark Chinese sesame oil (麻油) for fragrance. Garnish with chives (韭菜), and add ground white pepper to taste.
Unlike some of the other things I have mentioned, a sploodge of hot sauce is not a brilliant idea this time. That's just how it is.
Rice porridge is comfort food. Pure and sincere, affection in a bowl.
It's a warm embrace, a soft kiss on the cheek, a fond glance.
Appropriate whenever, and cheering at all times.
It's what your heart desires.
Happiness.
It's easy to add too much rice. Then compensate by adding more much liquid. And then more rice. If you're not careful, the quantity of porridge grows exponentially. And because of its creaminess and thickness, it is hard to reduce. If it is too thick, it becomes slow and gluggy, and if cooked long without enough stirring, muddy lumps may form.
On the other hand, a shortcut that works very well is to first cook the rice in just enough water till it is soft, then mix it with plenty of cold chicken stock, dump it in the blender, and whir it smooth. Another hour of slow cooking after that and it will be just right. When blending, I often add a piece of carrot, for sweetness and a faint warmth to the hue.
Porridge with black mushrooms, dried oysters, or preserved egg.
Jook (粥), tong gu (冬菇), ho si (蠔豉), pei dan (皮蛋).
Strewn with finely minced chives.
White, black, and green.
The taste of love.
The kitchen is the most magical room in the house. It is where you let your guard down, and where all your secrets are safe. This is where you entertain your dearest friends, and enjoy the nicest moments. A place of confidence, and pleasant memory. It is where you reveal yourself, and remain at ease.
The kitchen is the safest place.
Private, intimate.
Relaxed.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, September 01, 2012
COMFORT FOOD AT THE MAN KEE
He didn’t recognize me. Not surprising, as it’s been over sixteen years.
Besides, all white people look alike.
Especially when you’re not looking.
Friday was slow at the office. So I headed into C'town for a late lunch.
Which was extremely enjoyable.
I had just finished a wonderful bowl of preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge, and was working on my milk-tea when he came in.
It’s a new restaurant, but in the location where one of the old-time Chinatown eateries had previously been.
The business that occupied the space before had existed for many years, but it didn't look like my kind of environment and I never went in. They did roast duck and charsiu, which I love, but something about place just didn't appeal.
Consequently I have no idea whether it would have even been worth it.
The current proprietors, however, should definitely prosper.
Which I suspect shall indeed happen.
And I hope it will.
文記茶餐廳 (MAN KEE CHA TSAN TENG)
WASHINGTON CAFE
826 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-398-1299
This wasn't the first time I 've eaten there. It's only been open for a month, but they're well-organized, and it already feels like they've been around forever. That's only partly due to the smoothness of their operation, the efficiency, and the courteous capability of the staff.
The Washington Café is likely to become a favourite haunt. Clean, hospitable, good food, and a comfortable-feeling high-ceilinged dining room.
It is nice being there. Home.
Their extensive menu is idiosyncratic, if you aren't used to Hong Kong style Western food interspersed with standard Chinese restaurant offerings and American diner fare.
Spaghetti? Yes, spaghetti.
Plus sandwiches, ox tongue, beef haslet, salmon with bacon and spinach, and octopus balls with curry or Portugee Sauce. Choice of rice or spaghetti ("Italian noodle").
House special New York Steak, yau choi or gai lan with oyster sauce, chicken lai-fun soup, clam chowder, West Lake minced beef soup, wonton, noodles..........
Three dishes set price any choice plus soup, nice for families.
And rice porridge.
Excellent rice porridge.
Here are your porridge choices:
粥類 PORRIDGE (JUK LEUI)
及第粥 assorted pork giblet porridge $4.75
艇仔粥 sampan porridge $4.95
鮑魚雞粥 abalone and chicken porridge $6.50
爽滑魚片粥 filet of fish porridge $4.95
魚片皮蛋粥 preserved egg and filet of fish porridge $4.95
魚片瘦肉粥 filet of fish and pork porridge $4.95
魚片豬紅粥 filet of fish and pork blood porridge $4.95
爽滑猪肝粥 pork liver porridge $4.75
爽滑豬紅粥 pork blood porridge $4.75
海鮮粥 seafood porridge $4.95
蝦球粥 prawn porridge $4.95
帶子粥 scallop porridge $4.95
蝦球帶子粥 prawn and scallop porridge $4.95
皮蛋瘦肉粥 preserved egg and pork porridge $4.75
皮蛋牛肉粥 preserved egg and beef porridge $4.75
窩蛋免治牛粥 minced beef and egg porridge $4.75
雞球粥 chicken porridge $4.75
北菇雞球粥 black mushroom and chicken porridge $4.75
白粥 plain porridge $3.25
That's a very good selection. Someone in Holland who LOVES rice porridge will probably be really jealous upon seeing this.
For which I apologize. See, that's one of the reasons to live in San Francisco.
Instead of Holland.
The first time I ate there was in early evening, and it was filled with people happily scarfing down yummies.
I got seated at a table with two other single diners.
Who both thoroughly enjoyed their food.
Wonton noodle soup.
Gonna have to try that.
The person I mentioned at the beginning of this post looks older than when I last saw him. Not as happy or carefree as back in the day. He's been married for nearly two decades, his oldest kid must be going to college now.
I hope what he ate cheered him up.
AFTERWORD
敬
The restaurant that had been there before was the New King Tin (擎天酒樓).
For the first word (擎 king: raise hand, lift up, support, uphold) the phonetic element is 敬 (ging: respect, venerate, salute). King (擎) may be found under the hand (手) radical in the dictionary. Hand, plus thirteen strokes.
Ging (敬) is under 攴,攵 (bok, sui: rap, tap, strike lightly) plus nine strokes: 茍 (gau: urgent; to be cautious). Which is under 艸 (cho: grass - sometimes four strokes, sometimes six).
Tin (天) means sky, the heavens, and that which is divine.
File all this under trivia.
艸
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Besides, all white people look alike.
Especially when you’re not looking.
Friday was slow at the office. So I headed into C'town for a late lunch.
Which was extremely enjoyable.
I had just finished a wonderful bowl of preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge, and was working on my milk-tea when he came in.
It’s a new restaurant, but in the location where one of the old-time Chinatown eateries had previously been.
The business that occupied the space before had existed for many years, but it didn't look like my kind of environment and I never went in. They did roast duck and charsiu, which I love, but something about place just didn't appeal.
Consequently I have no idea whether it would have even been worth it.
The current proprietors, however, should definitely prosper.
Which I suspect shall indeed happen.
And I hope it will.
文記茶餐廳 (MAN KEE CHA TSAN TENG)
WASHINGTON CAFE
826 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-398-1299
This wasn't the first time I 've eaten there. It's only been open for a month, but they're well-organized, and it already feels like they've been around forever. That's only partly due to the smoothness of their operation, the efficiency, and the courteous capability of the staff.
The Washington Café is likely to become a favourite haunt. Clean, hospitable, good food, and a comfortable-feeling high-ceilinged dining room.
It is nice being there. Home.
Their extensive menu is idiosyncratic, if you aren't used to Hong Kong style Western food interspersed with standard Chinese restaurant offerings and American diner fare.
Spaghetti? Yes, spaghetti.
Plus sandwiches, ox tongue, beef haslet, salmon with bacon and spinach, and octopus balls with curry or Portugee Sauce. Choice of rice or spaghetti ("Italian noodle").
House special New York Steak, yau choi or gai lan with oyster sauce, chicken lai-fun soup, clam chowder, West Lake minced beef soup, wonton, noodles..........
Three dishes set price any choice plus soup, nice for families.
And rice porridge.
Excellent rice porridge.
Here are your porridge choices:
粥類 PORRIDGE (JUK LEUI)
及第粥 assorted pork giblet porridge $4.75
艇仔粥 sampan porridge $4.95
鮑魚雞粥 abalone and chicken porridge $6.50
爽滑魚片粥 filet of fish porridge $4.95
魚片皮蛋粥 preserved egg and filet of fish porridge $4.95
魚片瘦肉粥 filet of fish and pork porridge $4.95
魚片豬紅粥 filet of fish and pork blood porridge $4.95
爽滑猪肝粥 pork liver porridge $4.75
爽滑豬紅粥 pork blood porridge $4.75
海鮮粥 seafood porridge $4.95
蝦球粥 prawn porridge $4.95
帶子粥 scallop porridge $4.95
蝦球帶子粥 prawn and scallop porridge $4.95
皮蛋瘦肉粥 preserved egg and pork porridge $4.75
皮蛋牛肉粥 preserved egg and beef porridge $4.75
窩蛋免治牛粥 minced beef and egg porridge $4.75
雞球粥 chicken porridge $4.75
北菇雞球粥 black mushroom and chicken porridge $4.75
白粥 plain porridge $3.25
That's a very good selection. Someone in Holland who LOVES rice porridge will probably be really jealous upon seeing this.
For which I apologize. See, that's one of the reasons to live in San Francisco.
Instead of Holland.
The first time I ate there was in early evening, and it was filled with people happily scarfing down yummies.
I got seated at a table with two other single diners.
Who both thoroughly enjoyed their food.
Wonton noodle soup.
Gonna have to try that.
The person I mentioned at the beginning of this post looks older than when I last saw him. Not as happy or carefree as back in the day. He's been married for nearly two decades, his oldest kid must be going to college now.
I hope what he ate cheered him up.
AFTERWORD
敬
The restaurant that had been there before was the New King Tin (擎天酒樓).
For the first word (擎 king: raise hand, lift up, support, uphold) the phonetic element is 敬 (ging: respect, venerate, salute). King (擎) may be found under the hand (手) radical in the dictionary. Hand, plus thirteen strokes.
Ging (敬) is under 攴,攵 (bok, sui: rap, tap, strike lightly) plus nine strokes: 茍 (gau: urgent; to be cautious). Which is under 艸 (cho: grass - sometimes four strokes, sometimes six).
Tin (天) means sky, the heavens, and that which is divine.
File all this under trivia.
艸
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, August 19, 2012
IRIDESCENT DETAILS
Due to my roommate's activities in the kitchen this morning, just before waking I dreamed of going to watch a large mansion burning down. It happened during the first year that we lived in Valkenswaard, and we weren't the only ones admiring the lovely flames. Seemingly half the town was there. Sad - it had been a beautiful building.
Where it stood they built a brand new post office a few years later. It was very modern and not nearly as beautiful; rebuilding that mansion and setting it on fire again would have been infinitely better.
Golden tongues flaring into a black-blue expanse, past dark dark trees.
Stark branches limned amidst trails of smoke.
Shifting patterns of light.
It wasn't that my roommate was burning anything, but the smell of cooking was the spark that set off an unconscious mind already primed by what I had eaten yesterday. Which caused gout and sleeping sweat.
I had feared that a bowl of 生滾及第粥 would do exactly that. Pork liver and other innards poached in scalding hot rice porridge. With densely delicious meatballs added.
As it turns out, there was just enough organ meat in that supper to inflame my evil joint as well as my head.
It has been a fiery night.
Readers familiar with Nabokov's Ada will remember a scene in which the entire household piles into carriages to go see a villa a few miles away burning in the middle of the night, leaving young Ada and V.V. alone.
V.V. stands for both Van Veen, the teenage protagonist, as well as Vladimir Vladimirovich, the name and patronymic of the author.
It is a lovely, albeit naughtily unsuitable scene.
As well as the start of something good.
Probably my favourite passage.
In a word: smoking.
I suspect two things:
One - Vladimir Vladimirovich himself conflated conflagrations;
And two - he quite possibly also had gout.
There may be something that he never tells us.
Though he mentions overmuch else.
His fevered memories.
Shimmering.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Where it stood they built a brand new post office a few years later. It was very modern and not nearly as beautiful; rebuilding that mansion and setting it on fire again would have been infinitely better.
Golden tongues flaring into a black-blue expanse, past dark dark trees.
Stark branches limned amidst trails of smoke.
Shifting patterns of light.
It wasn't that my roommate was burning anything, but the smell of cooking was the spark that set off an unconscious mind already primed by what I had eaten yesterday. Which caused gout and sleeping sweat.
I had feared that a bowl of 生滾及第粥 would do exactly that. Pork liver and other innards poached in scalding hot rice porridge. With densely delicious meatballs added.
As it turns out, there was just enough organ meat in that supper to inflame my evil joint as well as my head.
It has been a fiery night.
Readers familiar with Nabokov's Ada will remember a scene in which the entire household piles into carriages to go see a villa a few miles away burning in the middle of the night, leaving young Ada and V.V. alone.
V.V. stands for both Van Veen, the teenage protagonist, as well as Vladimir Vladimirovich, the name and patronymic of the author.
It is a lovely, albeit naughtily unsuitable scene.
As well as the start of something good.
Probably my favourite passage.
In a word: smoking.
I suspect two things:
One - Vladimir Vladimirovich himself conflated conflagrations;
And two - he quite possibly also had gout.
There may be something that he never tells us.
Though he mentions overmuch else.
His fevered memories.
Shimmering.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, July 30, 2012
LUNCH THEN AND NOW
Yesterday I had sang-gwan yü-kau jook (生滾魚球粥) and a fried cruller for lunch, with a hot cup of milk-tea. Rice porridge with fish curls fresh-poaching in the heat of the bowl.
The waitress had the same problem with the milk-tea that all the other people who have brought it to me there have had: carefully carrying the cup and saucer is relatively easy, lowering it to the table is hard.
The result is a footbath. Always. They might want to serve it in a bigger cup and leave a little room around the edge as an allowance for wobbling. But I shall be the last person to mention wobbling to a young waitress.
With my lack of eloquence in Cantonese it might sound like a suggestion.
My Cantonese is not fluent.
I usually stick to tried and true formulations, rather than experimenting.
Besides, I don’t mind a small puddle of tea.
Drawing the foot of the cup across the rim of the saucer avoids drips.
Mow mantai.
And she blushed so prettily when the spillage happened! Heh!
When the fish is really fresh it absolutely requires a pinch of salt added to the jook to emphasize the sweetness. They use superlative ingredients there.
It was a gorgeous taste. The cruller was perfect too.
Light and airy, fried in clean fresh oil.
Lunch was a slice of heaven.
No, I shall not mention the name of the restaurant, nor where exactly it is in Chinatown.
They do not need any more Caucasian customers, that’s not what their menu is aimed at.
The non-Chinese who go there often ignore the good stuff and go for the small selection of familiar treats.
Most of their business consists of local people, who efficiently discuss food with the staff, establish what it is that they want, and then proceed to enjoy their meal with gusto.
Whereas white people really are a nuisance.
Lunch today, however, is nothing to write about, this being the Financial District.
A number of these places need all the white people they can get.
Some of these people must be very white indeed.
If you don't know rice porridge, you don't know jook.
Please note: only ONE white person was harmed in the writing of this post.
Shan't mention what lunch was today.
I'm trying to forget.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The waitress had the same problem with the milk-tea that all the other people who have brought it to me there have had: carefully carrying the cup and saucer is relatively easy, lowering it to the table is hard.
The result is a footbath. Always. They might want to serve it in a bigger cup and leave a little room around the edge as an allowance for wobbling. But I shall be the last person to mention wobbling to a young waitress.
With my lack of eloquence in Cantonese it might sound like a suggestion.
My Cantonese is not fluent.
I usually stick to tried and true formulations, rather than experimenting.
Besides, I don’t mind a small puddle of tea.
Drawing the foot of the cup across the rim of the saucer avoids drips.
Mow mantai.
And she blushed so prettily when the spillage happened! Heh!
When the fish is really fresh it absolutely requires a pinch of salt added to the jook to emphasize the sweetness. They use superlative ingredients there.
It was a gorgeous taste. The cruller was perfect too.
Light and airy, fried in clean fresh oil.
Lunch was a slice of heaven.
No, I shall not mention the name of the restaurant, nor where exactly it is in Chinatown.
They do not need any more Caucasian customers, that’s not what their menu is aimed at.
The non-Chinese who go there often ignore the good stuff and go for the small selection of familiar treats.
Most of their business consists of local people, who efficiently discuss food with the staff, establish what it is that they want, and then proceed to enjoy their meal with gusto.
Whereas white people really are a nuisance.
Lunch today, however, is nothing to write about, this being the Financial District.
A number of these places need all the white people they can get.
Some of these people must be very white indeed.
If you don't know rice porridge, you don't know jook.
Please note: only ONE white person was harmed in the writing of this post.
Shan't mention what lunch was today.
I'm trying to forget.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, July 13, 2012
THE ODDITY
Should know better by now. Do NOT approach persons of the opposite gender.
I made the mistake of asking a young lady to breakfast on Sunday.
She has sparkling eyes, wit, and charm.
Okay, she's got a boy friend.
And my idea of breakfast is rice porridge in Chinatown.
Right around noon time.
Ick.
It would've been just as "worthwhile" to ask her out for pizza and coffee.
Mind you, the mental image of a cute blonde woman scarfing down slices of pizza, with coffee, is extremely heartwarming. But it isn't going to happen.
I still remember the darling black-haired miss with the nice forehead at the pizza place, three tables over, and more than a year ago. She and her companions polished off an entire pie.
She looked so very happy, eating with friends.
Sheer savoury pepperoni-filled joy.
Adorable, and greasy.
GIRLISH DINING PLEASURE
Might be better to buy an entire high-school class Melon Liqueur cocktails.
Which is extremely tempting, lord knows.
Unfortunately the modern woman is just NOT interested in happy food.
And will not be going out for dimsum.
Nor rice porridge.
Oh well. And all-righty-then.
On Sunday, I'll be heading into C'town, for rice porridge and a yau tieu. There's a place on Waverly that makes dynamite deep-fried dough sticks to sop in the bowl. It's clean, comfortable, gemütlich.
I'll light up my pipe as soon as I leave.
Wander down Jackson or Washington Street, past the park, down to the bench in Hotaling Alley, where I'll finish smoking.
It's very peaceful there.
Dried fish with peanuts jook. A cup of hot milk-tea.
And one light and freshly fried dough stick.
The total breakfast of champions.
Solitary champions.
I don't really like being by myself.
But it isn't too much.
I'll last.
There could be a peidansou or a lowpoh beng later.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I made the mistake of asking a young lady to breakfast on Sunday.
She has sparkling eyes, wit, and charm.
Okay, she's got a boy friend.
And my idea of breakfast is rice porridge in Chinatown.
Right around noon time.
Ick.
It would've been just as "worthwhile" to ask her out for pizza and coffee.
Mind you, the mental image of a cute blonde woman scarfing down slices of pizza, with coffee, is extremely heartwarming. But it isn't going to happen.
I still remember the darling black-haired miss with the nice forehead at the pizza place, three tables over, and more than a year ago. She and her companions polished off an entire pie.
She looked so very happy, eating with friends.
Sheer savoury pepperoni-filled joy.
Adorable, and greasy.
GIRLISH DINING PLEASURE
Might be better to buy an entire high-school class Melon Liqueur cocktails.
Which is extremely tempting, lord knows.
Unfortunately the modern woman is just NOT interested in happy food.
And will not be going out for dimsum.
Nor rice porridge.
Oh well. And all-righty-then.
On Sunday, I'll be heading into C'town, for rice porridge and a yau tieu. There's a place on Waverly that makes dynamite deep-fried dough sticks to sop in the bowl. It's clean, comfortable, gemütlich.
I'll light up my pipe as soon as I leave.
Wander down Jackson or Washington Street, past the park, down to the bench in Hotaling Alley, where I'll finish smoking.
It's very peaceful there.
Dried fish with peanuts jook. A cup of hot milk-tea.
And one light and freshly fried dough stick.
The total breakfast of champions.
Solitary champions.
I don't really like being by myself.
But it isn't too much.
I'll last.
There could be a peidansou or a lowpoh beng later.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, April 29, 2012
WARM COMFORT
What does a crotchety badger want? What makes his furry snout twitch with happy anticipation?
These are very good questions, and I'm so glad you asked.
Today the badger in question wanted rice porridge.
Because it's comfort food, and it tastes good.
Preserved egg (皮蛋 'pei dan') and lean pork (瘦肉 'sau yiuk') in smoothly luscious congee (粥 'juk'), with an airy deep-fried strip of dough for dipping in the bowl, is the perfect lunch. It is simple, filling, delicious, and cheap.
Do not bother asking 係唔係新鮮炸嘅咩 ('hai m-hai san-sin char-ge-me': "is this freshly fried"), as the chances are that the yau tiu (油條) was made in the morning, and the woman behind the counter will inevitably say that it is new, while thinking "stupid kwailo, of course we don't sell stale stuffs, we wouldn't stay in business long if we did!".
[By the same token, do not try to order a bowl of soy milk (豆漿) or bak kut teh (肉骨茶 meat and bone broth), to go along with your "cha-kwei" (炸粿) because this is neither Shanghai nor the Malay and Indonesian world. It is San Francisco. We have jook (粥) with our oil-strips.]
Sit down, and note that an old gentleman one table away is eating exactly the same thing, with quite as much enjoyment. Life is made for pleasing coincidences.
It would have been nice if instead he had been a nice young lady with sparkling eyes slowly savouring a bowl of creamy rice porridge. But then I would have definitely had drips of jook on my chin, and they're hard to wipe out of a beard.
This would not have made a good impression.
If I were a sprightly miss in an eatery on Stockton Street, facing a furry-snouted badger with congee in his beard, would I find him attractive? Would my nipple twitch? Or would I pay him no mind, as the creamy porridge demanded all my attention?
Methinks I'd concentrate on the food. And perhaps have some hoimei fan (海米粉 steamed rice sheet noodle with dry shrimp) to round out my meal.
While ignoring his sneaky glances in my direction as he fills his pipe before leaving.
He's got rice grains in his beard. Does he not know?!?
That's a handsome briar, by the way.
It looks stylish.
Suffice to say there was no nice young lady there. There are, in fact, no such people in my life at all.
Which is a very great pity, as they are far far better than food.
FYI: the pipe tobacco I'm experimenting with at present has a decadent perfume added to the otherwise fine leaf. Not a strong fruity scent, being instead a whiff reminiscent of floral car freshener when lit. Most of it burns off in the first few puffs, so I don't think I'll be turning any heads with this. But it is a pleasant and unassuming smoke, good for spring days.
The soft feminine aroma may be influencing my mental processes.
Ghost-like traces of a woman's fragrance.
AFTERTHOUGHTS: Washington Street, Montgomery Street, quiet afternoon. Later, back over the hill, twilight at the abandoned church, then a slice of Dundee Cake, strong milk tea, a bowl of aged flake before dinner, mild yellow curry seafood soup with cilantro and ginger, sherry and a cheroot after dark. Perhaps time with a book - Ada and Van Veen, OR the amber details of Speak, Memory. Snow-pear incense half an hour before bed, to chase away any mosquitoes.
BRILLIANT CREATIVE INSIGHT: a dusting of scented talcum inside bra cups for greater comfort during warm weather.
Let me know if it works.
What should I eat next weekend? Noodles? More jook?
Rice and various dishes?
And milk tea.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
These are very good questions, and I'm so glad you asked.
Today the badger in question wanted rice porridge.
Because it's comfort food, and it tastes good.
一碗皮蛋瘦肉粥同埋一根油條唔該
[Yat woon pei dan sau yiuk jook tong mai yat gan yau tiu m-koi.]Preserved egg (皮蛋 'pei dan') and lean pork (瘦肉 'sau yiuk') in smoothly luscious congee (粥 'juk'), with an airy deep-fried strip of dough for dipping in the bowl, is the perfect lunch. It is simple, filling, delicious, and cheap.
Do not bother asking 係唔係新鮮炸嘅咩 ('hai m-hai san-sin char-ge-me': "is this freshly fried"), as the chances are that the yau tiu (油條) was made in the morning, and the woman behind the counter will inevitably say that it is new, while thinking "stupid kwailo, of course we don't sell stale stuffs, we wouldn't stay in business long if we did!".
[By the same token, do not try to order a bowl of soy milk (豆漿) or bak kut teh (肉骨茶 meat and bone broth), to go along with your "cha-kwei" (炸粿) because this is neither Shanghai nor the Malay and Indonesian world. It is San Francisco. We have jook (粥) with our oil-strips.]
Sit down, and note that an old gentleman one table away is eating exactly the same thing, with quite as much enjoyment. Life is made for pleasing coincidences.
It would have been nice if instead he had been a nice young lady with sparkling eyes slowly savouring a bowl of creamy rice porridge. But then I would have definitely had drips of jook on my chin, and they're hard to wipe out of a beard.
This would not have made a good impression.
If I were a sprightly miss in an eatery on Stockton Street, facing a furry-snouted badger with congee in his beard, would I find him attractive? Would my nipple twitch? Or would I pay him no mind, as the creamy porridge demanded all my attention?
Methinks I'd concentrate on the food. And perhaps have some hoimei fan (海米粉 steamed rice sheet noodle with dry shrimp) to round out my meal.
While ignoring his sneaky glances in my direction as he fills his pipe before leaving.
He's got rice grains in his beard. Does he not know?!?
That's a handsome briar, by the way.
It looks stylish.
Suffice to say there was no nice young lady there. There are, in fact, no such people in my life at all.
Which is a very great pity, as they are far far better than food.
FYI: the pipe tobacco I'm experimenting with at present has a decadent perfume added to the otherwise fine leaf. Not a strong fruity scent, being instead a whiff reminiscent of floral car freshener when lit. Most of it burns off in the first few puffs, so I don't think I'll be turning any heads with this. But it is a pleasant and unassuming smoke, good for spring days.
The soft feminine aroma may be influencing my mental processes.
Ghost-like traces of a woman's fragrance.
AFTERTHOUGHTS: Washington Street, Montgomery Street, quiet afternoon. Later, back over the hill, twilight at the abandoned church, then a slice of Dundee Cake, strong milk tea, a bowl of aged flake before dinner, mild yellow curry seafood soup with cilantro and ginger, sherry and a cheroot after dark. Perhaps time with a book - Ada and Van Veen, OR the amber details of Speak, Memory. Snow-pear incense half an hour before bed, to chase away any mosquitoes.
BRILLIANT CREATIVE INSIGHT: a dusting of scented talcum inside bra cups for greater comfort during warm weather.
Let me know if it works.
What should I eat next weekend? Noodles? More jook?
Rice and various dishes?
And milk tea.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, April 01, 2012
RICE PORRIDGE: COMFORT FOOD, GOOD FOR THE SOUL
There are times when the singular man craves rice porridge, nothing else will do.
Today I had a big bowl of rice porridge with salted egg and pork, plus a yautiu.
Happy and filled for four bucks. Can't beat that.
Rice porridge (jook) is one of those things that movie-goers associate with late night snacking (食宵夜) in Hong Kong. Taiwanese and northerners often have jook for breakfast, and Cantonese people will eat it whenever it seems right to do so.
It's simple, nourishing, very satisfying.
There are of course different types. Some far more high-fallutin' than others.
Not all places that do jook will have an extensive variety, and often what is offered is plain white jook (白粥) and two or three other kinds.
Still, enough places serve jook that one should never be far from a warm happy feeling.
TYPES OF JOOK
柴魚花生粥 tsai-yu faa-sang juk: dried fish and fried peanuts rice porridge.
火鴨粥 fo ngaap juk: rice porridge with roast duck.
爽滑肉丸粥) song gwat yiuk yuen juk: rice porridge with pork meat balls.
猪肝粥 chu gon juk: pork liver rice porridge.
生滾肉片粥 sang gwan yiuk pien juk: jook with sliced pork cooked by the heat of the porridge.
生滾蝦球粥 sang gwan ha kau juk: jook with fresh shrimp cooked by the heat of the porridge.
皮蛋瘦肉粥 pei dan sau yiuk juk: preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge. [A personal favourite.]
碎牛粥 sui ngau juk: rice porridge with minced beef.
艇仔粥 tang chai juk: rice porridge with squid, fried pork skin, ground meat, peanuts, crispy noodle bits.
蠔豉瘦肉粥 ho si sau yiuk juk: dried oysters and lean pork rice porridge.
豬紅粥 chu hong juk: rice porridge with cubes of gelled pig's blood.
雞球粥 kai kau juk: chicken rice porridge.
香菇肉鬆粥 heung gu ngau song juk: black mushrooms and pork floss rice porridge.
魚片粥 yu pin juk: fish curls rice porridge.
鮑魚滑雞粥 bao yu kwat kai juk: abalone and chicken rice porridge.
鮑魚粥 bau yu juk: abalone rice porridge.
One type of jook which is strictly home-style, and only in the United States, is 火雞粥 (foh-kai juk): rice porridge with left-over turkey from Thanksgiving, and precisely like the roast turkey itself and football, too much will make you sleepy.
It's a very American Chinese dish; elsewhere in the world turkey is hardly eaten, seldom loved.
[油條 (yau tiu) is a long strip of puffy dough deep fried, very light and airy, that goes well with rice porridge. 生滾 (sang gwan), means 'fresh boiled', indicating that whatever was added to the piping hot rice porridge is poached in the heat thereof. 艇仔 (tang chai) is a small boat or sampan, such as Ratty and Mole used on the river in Wind in the Willows.]
Why did I need jook?
Einfach; my apartment mate stayed at home today with a severe nose-cold. She's grumpy when sick, and what cheers her up is chatting on the phone with her boy friend. No sane man wants to listen to that. It simply highlights that some of us do not have anyone special in our life, and hearing the love in her voice while she talks to him is both depressing and nauseating.
Whereas witnessing someone at a restaurant on Stockton street fiercely coughing while scarfing down the rice-plate special, along with others happily ordering one more serving of something cheap and scrumptious if you please - heck, the entire ambiance of happy people NOT talking to their lovers - is an immense improvement.
Note, by the way, that the post about dimsum which contains the names in Chinese with their pronunciation has been updated.
Dimsum is also comfort food, but far better eaten in company.
Jook is solitary.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Today I had a big bowl of rice porridge with salted egg and pork, plus a yautiu.
Happy and filled for four bucks. Can't beat that.
Rice porridge (jook) is one of those things that movie-goers associate with late night snacking (食宵夜) in Hong Kong. Taiwanese and northerners often have jook for breakfast, and Cantonese people will eat it whenever it seems right to do so.
It's simple, nourishing, very satisfying.
There are of course different types. Some far more high-fallutin' than others.
Not all places that do jook will have an extensive variety, and often what is offered is plain white jook (白粥) and two or three other kinds.
Still, enough places serve jook that one should never be far from a warm happy feeling.
TYPES OF JOOK
柴魚花生粥 tsai-yu faa-sang juk: dried fish and fried peanuts rice porridge.
火鴨粥 fo ngaap juk: rice porridge with roast duck.
爽滑肉丸粥) song gwat yiuk yuen juk: rice porridge with pork meat balls.
猪肝粥 chu gon juk: pork liver rice porridge.
生滾肉片粥 sang gwan yiuk pien juk: jook with sliced pork cooked by the heat of the porridge.
生滾蝦球粥 sang gwan ha kau juk: jook with fresh shrimp cooked by the heat of the porridge.
皮蛋瘦肉粥 pei dan sau yiuk juk: preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge. [A personal favourite.]
碎牛粥 sui ngau juk: rice porridge with minced beef.
艇仔粥 tang chai juk: rice porridge with squid, fried pork skin, ground meat, peanuts, crispy noodle bits.
蠔豉瘦肉粥 ho si sau yiuk juk: dried oysters and lean pork rice porridge.
豬紅粥 chu hong juk: rice porridge with cubes of gelled pig's blood.
雞球粥 kai kau juk: chicken rice porridge.
香菇肉鬆粥 heung gu ngau song juk: black mushrooms and pork floss rice porridge.
魚片粥 yu pin juk: fish curls rice porridge.
鮑魚滑雞粥 bao yu kwat kai juk: abalone and chicken rice porridge.
鮑魚粥 bau yu juk: abalone rice porridge.
One type of jook which is strictly home-style, and only in the United States, is 火雞粥 (foh-kai juk): rice porridge with left-over turkey from Thanksgiving, and precisely like the roast turkey itself and football, too much will make you sleepy.
It's a very American Chinese dish; elsewhere in the world turkey is hardly eaten, seldom loved.
[油條 (yau tiu) is a long strip of puffy dough deep fried, very light and airy, that goes well with rice porridge. 生滾 (sang gwan), means 'fresh boiled', indicating that whatever was added to the piping hot rice porridge is poached in the heat thereof. 艇仔 (tang chai) is a small boat or sampan, such as Ratty and Mole used on the river in Wind in the Willows.]
Why did I need jook?
Einfach; my apartment mate stayed at home today with a severe nose-cold. She's grumpy when sick, and what cheers her up is chatting on the phone with her boy friend. No sane man wants to listen to that. It simply highlights that some of us do not have anyone special in our life, and hearing the love in her voice while she talks to him is both depressing and nauseating.
Whereas witnessing someone at a restaurant on Stockton street fiercely coughing while scarfing down the rice-plate special, along with others happily ordering one more serving of something cheap and scrumptious if you please - heck, the entire ambiance of happy people NOT talking to their lovers - is an immense improvement.
Note, by the way, that the post about dimsum which contains the names in Chinese with their pronunciation has been updated.
Dimsum is also comfort food, but far better eaten in company.
Jook is solitary.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, March 30, 2012
AND COMPANY
Sometimes all you want to do is spend a few hours reading, in the same room as someone else doing exactly the same thing. Each person content in the presence of the other.
And then both of you decide to go out and get some soup.
There are a few places I’ve mentioned already that have good soup. Fun soup.
Two Vietnamese-Chinese places in C’town.
If it’s a nice day, why not?
On the other hand maybe you just want to stay indoors, relaxing in companionable privacy, not observing or being observed by the world.
Perfect time for jook.
Rice porridge.
鮑魚粥 BAU YU JUK
Chicken and Abalone Rice Porridge.
One cup of rice.
One carrot, cut into three or four pieces.
One can of abalone.
Six chicken drumsticks.
Six dried scallops (conpoy).
Eight to ten cups water.
Pinches of ground white pepper.
Plus chopped cilantro, shredded ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil.
Set the dried scallops to soak in a little water with a pinch of sugar added.
After rinsing the rice cook it in half the water, simmer the chicken pieces and carrot in another pot in the remaining water. Once the rice is fully cooked, remove from heat. Same with the chicken. Drain the chicken liquid into the rice and while this cools, pull the chicken flesh from the bones and set aside.
Dump the carrot chunks into the pot with the rice.
Traditionally the rice would be simmered for several hours with frequent stirring (to prevent scorching) till the grains start falling apart. But it saves a lot of time to simply put the rice and cooking liquids into the blender - which is why you should let it all cool down a bit first.
When the rice has been osterized, return it to the soup pot, and bring it back to boil.
Carefully pull the re-moistened scallops apart, and add them and their soaking liquid to the pot.
Mix a little soy sauce and sesame oil with the chicken. Do not add too much, just enough to aromatize.
Slice the abalone, and add some of the abalone liquid into the rice porridge if you wish.
Add the sliced abalone only a minute or two before serving, while the soup pot is still on the burner. Abalone toughens up if cooked too long, so remove the pot from the heat shortly thereafter. Adjust taste with white pepper.
Divvy up into bowls, add the chicken meat, shredded ginger, and cilantro on top.
[Dried scallops (gon bui 乾貝, gon yiu ju 乾瑤柱) are available in Chinatown. They look like amber-hued or honey-coloured disks. Conpoy is not optional, as the dish will lack a certain distinction if it is left out. You should buy high quality large conpoy which have a vibrant look and smell, and clean sharp edges. Abalone (bau yu 鮑魚) is seldom used fresh in Chinese cuisine, mostly dried or canned. It likewise can be bought in C'town. Abalone is considered healthy and easy to digest. Which it is, if not rubberized by prolonged cooking.]
The quantity above is enough for four servings, or two large bowls. It is fun to share this before returning to your books and again enjoying each other's quiet reassuring company.
Jook is superlative comfort food.
Always do enough for two.
It's been in a while since I made any.
Mostly I read by myself now.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
And then both of you decide to go out and get some soup.
There are a few places I’ve mentioned already that have good soup. Fun soup.
Two Vietnamese-Chinese places in C’town.
If it’s a nice day, why not?
On the other hand maybe you just want to stay indoors, relaxing in companionable privacy, not observing or being observed by the world.
Perfect time for jook.
Rice porridge.
鮑魚粥 BAU YU JUK
Chicken and Abalone Rice Porridge.
One cup of rice.
One carrot, cut into three or four pieces.
One can of abalone.
Six chicken drumsticks.
Six dried scallops (conpoy).
Eight to ten cups water.
Pinches of ground white pepper.
Plus chopped cilantro, shredded ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil.
Set the dried scallops to soak in a little water with a pinch of sugar added.
After rinsing the rice cook it in half the water, simmer the chicken pieces and carrot in another pot in the remaining water. Once the rice is fully cooked, remove from heat. Same with the chicken. Drain the chicken liquid into the rice and while this cools, pull the chicken flesh from the bones and set aside.
Dump the carrot chunks into the pot with the rice.
Traditionally the rice would be simmered for several hours with frequent stirring (to prevent scorching) till the grains start falling apart. But it saves a lot of time to simply put the rice and cooking liquids into the blender - which is why you should let it all cool down a bit first.
When the rice has been osterized, return it to the soup pot, and bring it back to boil.
Carefully pull the re-moistened scallops apart, and add them and their soaking liquid to the pot.
Mix a little soy sauce and sesame oil with the chicken. Do not add too much, just enough to aromatize.
Slice the abalone, and add some of the abalone liquid into the rice porridge if you wish.
Add the sliced abalone only a minute or two before serving, while the soup pot is still on the burner. Abalone toughens up if cooked too long, so remove the pot from the heat shortly thereafter. Adjust taste with white pepper.
Divvy up into bowls, add the chicken meat, shredded ginger, and cilantro on top.
[Dried scallops (gon bui 乾貝, gon yiu ju 乾瑤柱) are available in Chinatown. They look like amber-hued or honey-coloured disks. Conpoy is not optional, as the dish will lack a certain distinction if it is left out. You should buy high quality large conpoy which have a vibrant look and smell, and clean sharp edges. Abalone (bau yu 鮑魚) is seldom used fresh in Chinese cuisine, mostly dried or canned. It likewise can be bought in C'town. Abalone is considered healthy and easy to digest. Which it is, if not rubberized by prolonged cooking.]
The quantity above is enough for four servings, or two large bowls. It is fun to share this before returning to your books and again enjoying each other's quiet reassuring company.
Jook is superlative comfort food.
Always do enough for two.
It's been in a while since I made any.
Mostly I read by myself now.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
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