It's very comforting! And tasty, too! Plus soy sauce chicken is so easy to make that one has to wonder why one does not make it more often. With some bokchoi on the side, and rice, it's a delicious meal.
The recipe below is a Cantonese version; people in the north also do something they call soy sauce chicken, but it is oddly unappealing.
豉油雞
SI YAU KAI
One whole chicken, about four pounds.
Two cups soy sauce.
Half a cup sherry or rice wine.
Six TBS cane sugar.
Six slices of ginger.
Three garlic cloves, whole.
Three scallion, sectioned.
Three star anise pods.
One piece of dried tangerine peel (陳皮 'chan pei').
One dried honey date (金絲蜜棗乾 'gam si mat jou gon').
Half a stick cinnamon or less.
Eight cups water.
Rinse your chicken well, and trim flaps.
Gild the ginger, garlic, and scallion with a little oil in the bottom of a large stockpot, adding the ginger first, then the garlic cloves and scallion sections. Seethe with the sherry, then add everything except the chicken and bring to a boil. Simmer a few minutes, then submerge the chicken, rump upwards. Bring back to a boil, turn low, and poach for a scant twenty minutes. Turn off heat, cover, and let stand for an hour or so.
Remove chicken and drain.
Bring pot back to a boil and reduce liquid over fifty percent.
Strain and cool.
Chop the chicken into large pieces. Arrange on a platter and spoon some of the liquid over.
Reserve the rest of the liquid for other uses.
Some folks swear by rose-flavour wine (玫瑰酒 'mui kwei jau') as the liquor, claiming that it adds an ethereal je ne sais quoi. But unless you have any other reason to use it, such as curing little pork sausages (臘腸 'laap cheung'), it's rather a waste. Sherry is my preferred cooking hooch.
I add tangerine peel and honey date for their perfume instead.
The point of the dish is NOT strongly overflavoured chicken, but a bird which still has natural sweetness and is softly savoury-fragrant.
Gentleness is the trick.
Note that chicken wings and chicken drumsticks can be done similarly; an entire bucket for a party, for instance. I never have sports fans over, and consequently seldom do that.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Showing posts with label 菜譜. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 菜譜. Show all posts
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Wednesday, March 09, 2016
BEAN FERMENT, FIRED LOINS, AND RICE: 豆腐火腩飯
Early dinner yesterday was excellent; tofu and roasted pork loin, sauced together, and served with a mound of rice. I had gone to a chachanteng, and even though that was a lunch option (lunch ends at three o'clock), I asked if it was still possible to have it. They had no issue with that request, despite the late hour, and I ate well.
I also got to observe two tourists become totally baffled at the menu, because a chachanteng is not your mother's Chinese restaurant.
Baked spaghetti? Grilled salmon? Toast?
The typical chachanteng is strictly Hong Kong, meaning that whatever can be cobbled together into a hot or fast meal is offered, including tinned luncheon meat and tomato sauce over macaroni, odd noodly combos, bland Western soups served alongside plate lunches, snacks, casseroles, and high fat high carb hotch-a-potches, all with cups of either hot strong milk-tea or coffee and milk-tea combined, your choice.
Oh, and some typical Cantonese dishes, mostly home style.
No kung pao, no general Tzo, no shrimp Rangoon.
Not an egg roll on the premises.
No sweet'n sour.
Tofu combined with fire-loin (火腩 'fo naam'; very nearly the same as 燒肉 'siu yiuk'), in almost any form, is both home cooking and conveniently fast restaurant chow.
The fired loin is roast pork with the crust all nice and crunchy, bought from a local siu-mei vendor (燒味店), the tofu is fried chunks available at any grocery. Just some assembly and saucing, and it's done.
And it's stupendous.
Here are two recipes that show how easy it is. Use both or either as guides, come up with your own variant.
火腩炆豆腐
FO NAAM MAN DAU FU
Half pound of fire belly pork (火腩), chunk-chopped.
One tub of firm tofu, sliced into two, flat-wise.
Ten cloves garlic, left whole.
One onion, chopped.
Three slices of ginger.
One TBS soy sauce.
One TBS Shaoxing rice wine (紹興酒).
One Tsp. oyster sauce (蠔油).
One Tsp. sugar.
A dash of sesame oil (麻油).
One Tsp. cornstarch dissolved in a tablespoon of water.
Lightly dust the tofu with cornstarch and a pinch of salt on all sides, fry in hot oil till golden brown. Remove, drain, and cut into large chunks.
Gild the ginger slices and whole garlic cloves. Reserve to a saucer.
Sauté the chopped onion, add the fire belly pork. When the edges turn golden add the soy sauce, Shaoxing rice wine, and a splash of water, plus the garlic and ginger. Simmer a few minutes, then put in the tofu, and stir the cornstarch solution in. Add a dash of sesame oil, serve.
[NOTES: For the Shaoxing rice wine (紹興酒 'siu hing jau') you may substitute sherry. The effect will be no different. For drinking, you may replace the sherry with Shaoxing. That, too, is good. Oyster sauce (蠔油 'ho yau') is essential, sesame oil ((麻油 'maa yau') adds fragrance.]
枝竹豆腐炆火腩
JI JUK DAU FU MAN FO NAAM
Half a pound of roast pork (火腩), chunk-chopped.
One or two sticks of dried tofu (枝竹).
One slab of firm tofu (half a tub).
Three slices ginger.
Half a head of garlic (6-8 cloves).
Three scallion, minced.
One Tbs soy sauce.
Half TBS oyster sauce.
Half Tsp. sugar.
One cup water.
One Tsp. cornstarch dissolved in a tablespoon of water.
Cook dried tofu stick in some water till soft, cut into suitable segments. Cut the firm tofu into eight chunks and fry in hot oil till golden, remove and drain.
Sauté ginger and garlic briefly. Add the sauces, sugar, and water, bring to a boil and put in the dried tofu pieces. Simmer for about three or four minutes, then add the roast pork and fried tofu and simmer just a little while longer to heat through and combine flavours. Add the cornstarch solution and the minced scallion, stir to combine, and decant to a plate.
The goal in either version is having enough moisture in the dish to glorify the rice. A very big squirt of Sriracha hot sauce (是拉差辣椒醬 'si-laa-chaa laat-chiu jeung') on the plate is, to my mind, the crowning final touch. Wah, chan hou sik! If you really want to over-indulge, you might also put half a dozen soaked dried oysters (蠔豉 'hou si') into the pot.
Or black mushrooms (冬菇 'dong gu').
Or both.
Tofu and roast pork could be one dish among many if dining together.
May I suggest having sautéed brassica green (炒油菜 'chaau yau choi') alongside, along with some watercress soup?
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I also got to observe two tourists become totally baffled at the menu, because a chachanteng is not your mother's Chinese restaurant.
Baked spaghetti? Grilled salmon? Toast?
The typical chachanteng is strictly Hong Kong, meaning that whatever can be cobbled together into a hot or fast meal is offered, including tinned luncheon meat and tomato sauce over macaroni, odd noodly combos, bland Western soups served alongside plate lunches, snacks, casseroles, and high fat high carb hotch-a-potches, all with cups of either hot strong milk-tea or coffee and milk-tea combined, your choice.
Oh, and some typical Cantonese dishes, mostly home style.
No kung pao, no general Tzo, no shrimp Rangoon.
Not an egg roll on the premises.
No sweet'n sour.
Tofu combined with fire-loin (火腩 'fo naam'; very nearly the same as 燒肉 'siu yiuk'), in almost any form, is both home cooking and conveniently fast restaurant chow.
The fired loin is roast pork with the crust all nice and crunchy, bought from a local siu-mei vendor (燒味店), the tofu is fried chunks available at any grocery. Just some assembly and saucing, and it's done.
And it's stupendous.
Here are two recipes that show how easy it is. Use both or either as guides, come up with your own variant.
火腩炆豆腐
FO NAAM MAN DAU FU
Half pound of fire belly pork (火腩), chunk-chopped.
One tub of firm tofu, sliced into two, flat-wise.
Ten cloves garlic, left whole.
One onion, chopped.
Three slices of ginger.
One TBS soy sauce.
One TBS Shaoxing rice wine (紹興酒).
One Tsp. oyster sauce (蠔油).
One Tsp. sugar.
A dash of sesame oil (麻油).
One Tsp. cornstarch dissolved in a tablespoon of water.
Lightly dust the tofu with cornstarch and a pinch of salt on all sides, fry in hot oil till golden brown. Remove, drain, and cut into large chunks.
Gild the ginger slices and whole garlic cloves. Reserve to a saucer.
Sauté the chopped onion, add the fire belly pork. When the edges turn golden add the soy sauce, Shaoxing rice wine, and a splash of water, plus the garlic and ginger. Simmer a few minutes, then put in the tofu, and stir the cornstarch solution in. Add a dash of sesame oil, serve.
[NOTES: For the Shaoxing rice wine (紹興酒 'siu hing jau') you may substitute sherry. The effect will be no different. For drinking, you may replace the sherry with Shaoxing. That, too, is good. Oyster sauce (蠔油 'ho yau') is essential, sesame oil ((麻油 'maa yau') adds fragrance.]
枝竹豆腐炆火腩
JI JUK DAU FU MAN FO NAAM
Half a pound of roast pork (火腩), chunk-chopped.
One or two sticks of dried tofu (枝竹).
One slab of firm tofu (half a tub).
Three slices ginger.
Half a head of garlic (6-8 cloves).
Three scallion, minced.
One Tbs soy sauce.
Half TBS oyster sauce.
Half Tsp. sugar.
One cup water.
One Tsp. cornstarch dissolved in a tablespoon of water.
Cook dried tofu stick in some water till soft, cut into suitable segments. Cut the firm tofu into eight chunks and fry in hot oil till golden, remove and drain.
Sauté ginger and garlic briefly. Add the sauces, sugar, and water, bring to a boil and put in the dried tofu pieces. Simmer for about three or four minutes, then add the roast pork and fried tofu and simmer just a little while longer to heat through and combine flavours. Add the cornstarch solution and the minced scallion, stir to combine, and decant to a plate.
The goal in either version is having enough moisture in the dish to glorify the rice. A very big squirt of Sriracha hot sauce (是拉差辣椒醬 'si-laa-chaa laat-chiu jeung') on the plate is, to my mind, the crowning final touch. Wah, chan hou sik! If you really want to over-indulge, you might also put half a dozen soaked dried oysters (蠔豉 'hou si') into the pot.
Or black mushrooms (冬菇 'dong gu').
Or both.
Tofu and roast pork could be one dish among many if dining together.
May I suggest having sautéed brassica green (炒油菜 'chaau yau choi') alongside, along with some watercress soup?
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
HONG BAK VERSUS... HONG BAK; A FUKIENESE QUANDARY
A dish which spells home to most Fujianese is 'hong bak'. They can all agree that nothing else is quite so evocative. But their unanimity ends there, as they will NOT agree on what it is. Or who makes a genuine version, which, naturally, is the absolute best and quite coincidentally their very own heirloom recipe (and from a very dear aunt to boot).
Or cooked by a little food shop in their hometown, wherever that is.
Probably either in Kelantan or Sarawak.
封肉或稱焢肉
"SEALED MEAT", OR "PICKLE MEAT"
The version known as 'hong bak' (封肉) is alleged to have originated in Tung An (同安 "tang oa~"), and is considered a traditional dish from the Min Nan (閩南 "ban-lam") culinary repertoire (福建菜系，閩菜系 "hok-kian chai-he", "ban chai-he"). Tung An is to the north of the port of Hsiamen (下門 "ah mui") , and as Hsiamen ('Amoy') is where many South-East Asian Fujianese (福建人「福建郎」 "hok-kian lang") hail from ancestrally, this may be reasonably credible.
Or entirely disbelieved.
The other version, called 'hong bak' (焢肉), is more common among overseas Fujianese, and often varies considerably from recipe to recipe. Many people will add hardboiled eggs, or fresh mushrooms, or dried tofu skin. Even large cubes of tofu, which may be deep-fried beforehand.
The Peranakan along the Malacca Strait will augment the flavour with coriander seed ground into a paste with garlic, ginger, and shallots, which is sauteed in the pan before the meat is added.
The first version has a back-story, the latter versions have the weight of fond memories.
According to the accepted narrative, a scholar who had achieved a major ranking in the imperial system prepared a celebratory dish of fatty pork with mushrooms and chestnuts, cooked in cloth that held it together in a block-shape. Later versions simply placed the large chunk of meat skin-side down and fried it with sugar. At the point where the caramel might start burning, soy sauce and rice wine were added, along with chestnuts and mushrooms, plus enough water that when the pot was sealed it would gently steam till done. Properly made, the fatty flesh was tender enough to break with the diners' chopsticks.
Another tale states that a destitute man, in order to make a variation of a luxurious porridge which was traditionally served during a Buddhist parade festival, went into hock to purchase a very small but rather nice chunk of pork. Which, in the Chinese scheme of things, naturally means a cut with alternating fat and lean. He carefully coloured it by sauteeing it and adding sugar, wine, and soy sauce. When it was dark and marvelously fragrant, he put it in his family's pot of rice gruel. It made it so splendid that his neighbors came over to have some, in consequence of which his fortunes improved, and within a number of years he was reasonably well-off.
No, I have no idea when that festival takes place.
Sorry.
The reason why the character 封 is used in naming the dish is that it means to seal, like an official letter or parcel. The meat is darkly hued on one side, and left whole while cooking, creating the visual representation of a stack of documents or cahiers.
Plus, of course, it IS sealed on one side.
The word 焢, which in Hokkien (閩南語 "ban-lam gi") sounds exactly the same as 封，is a transcription of the dialect word for semi-pickling meat, thus both making it savoury and less perishable in a warm climate.
Note that 肉, which means 'meat', is pronounced 'bak' in Hokkien and other Min languages, being a phoneme derived from a different route than Mandarin 'rou' and Cantonese 'yiuk'.
Possibly related to a proto-Malayoid root-word for hog.
焢肉怎麼煮阿？
HOW TO PREPARE HONG BAK?
The Hokkiens of South-East Asia all follow a similar procedure vis a vis the meat itself, but differ enormously as regards additions, the only thing standardly being some pre-soaked black mushrooms.
My original version had the pork left whole, scored and browned on the skin-side, then seethed with a little Indonesian-style sweet soy sauce and a lot of sherry, whereupon I would add ginger slices, whole re-hydrated black mushrooms, whole star-anise, a cinnamon stick, and water to come half way up. Then I would stick it into the oven at low heat, with the lid on, for an hour or two, and ignore it while it cooked in its juices.
It always came out perfect, and butter tender.
You could easily cut it with chop-sticks.
It was a variation of the 封 style.
That was a long time ago.
譜：焢肉
RECIPE: HONG BAK
One and a half pounds of belly pork with skin on.
Half a dozen cloves garlic (or less).
Half a dozen soaked black mushrooms (or more).
Half a dozen slices ginger.
A small piece of cinnamon.
Smallish piece of dried tangerine peel (陳皮).
Two or three whole star anise.
Three TBS soy sauce.
Three TBS brown sugar.
One TBS oyster sauce.
A very hefty jigger of sherry or rice wine.
Half Tsp. ground coriander (optional).
A pinch of freshly ground pepper.
Oil.
Water.
Cut the pork into large chunks. Rub a little of the sugar on the meat, all over. Whack the garlic cloves with the flat of a cleaver to loosen the skin, which remove. Trim off the hard ends, but do not chop the garlic; it's fine the way it is.
Fry the garlic till fragrant, decant to a saucer; you'll add it back later.
On medium heat, colour the pork chunks well, allowing for a little caramelization. Now add everything else including the garlic, and enough water to nearly cover; the pot should be somewhat crowded.
Bring to a boil, turn heat low, and simmer for forty five minutes, stirring occassionally to prevent scorching.
If you are using a larger casserole for cooking, you may add some wedge-cut potato or broken tofu skin sticks (腐竹) to share the juices. In that case, increase the amount of ground coriander and add a little more soy sauce.
The oyster sauce is in lieu of the dried shrimp that many people would use for a faint savory touch.
You could also dust the meat chunks with a little flour before gilding them in the pan, which would enrich and thicken the sauce, but that seems rather pointless.
A slightly thin sauce is preferable when eating Chinese food.
Serve with steamed rice, of course, and your favourite sambal on the side.
NOTE: dried tangerine peel (陳皮) is called 'chenpi' in Mandarin, 'jan pei' in Cantonese, and 'tan peh' in Hokkien. It is often used for a hint of fragrance, and is considered beneficial to the digestion and the mucous membranes. Its use is not only culinary, but also medicinal, having a mild tonifying effect. In cooking it frequently shows up in duck dishes, as well as fatty pork stews, and soups.
Look for packages that promise 新會柑 ('Hsin-hui Tangerine', "san wui gam"), as even though the fruit is too sour to enjoy, these provide the very best dried peels. Unlike most other tangerine peel, it will be a blueish-green, sometimes verging towards brown, or even black.
Good peel keeps its fragrance for a very long time.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Or cooked by a little food shop in their hometown, wherever that is.
Probably either in Kelantan or Sarawak.
封肉或稱焢肉
"SEALED MEAT", OR "PICKLE MEAT"
The version known as 'hong bak' (封肉) is alleged to have originated in Tung An (同安 "tang oa~"), and is considered a traditional dish from the Min Nan (閩南 "ban-lam") culinary repertoire (福建菜系，閩菜系 "hok-kian chai-he", "ban chai-he"). Tung An is to the north of the port of Hsiamen (下門 "ah mui") , and as Hsiamen ('Amoy') is where many South-East Asian Fujianese (福建人「福建郎」 "hok-kian lang") hail from ancestrally, this may be reasonably credible.
Or entirely disbelieved.
The other version, called 'hong bak' (焢肉), is more common among overseas Fujianese, and often varies considerably from recipe to recipe. Many people will add hardboiled eggs, or fresh mushrooms, or dried tofu skin. Even large cubes of tofu, which may be deep-fried beforehand.
The Peranakan along the Malacca Strait will augment the flavour with coriander seed ground into a paste with garlic, ginger, and shallots, which is sauteed in the pan before the meat is added.
The first version has a back-story, the latter versions have the weight of fond memories.
According to the accepted narrative, a scholar who had achieved a major ranking in the imperial system prepared a celebratory dish of fatty pork with mushrooms and chestnuts, cooked in cloth that held it together in a block-shape. Later versions simply placed the large chunk of meat skin-side down and fried it with sugar. At the point where the caramel might start burning, soy sauce and rice wine were added, along with chestnuts and mushrooms, plus enough water that when the pot was sealed it would gently steam till done. Properly made, the fatty flesh was tender enough to break with the diners' chopsticks.
Another tale states that a destitute man, in order to make a variation of a luxurious porridge which was traditionally served during a Buddhist parade festival, went into hock to purchase a very small but rather nice chunk of pork. Which, in the Chinese scheme of things, naturally means a cut with alternating fat and lean. He carefully coloured it by sauteeing it and adding sugar, wine, and soy sauce. When it was dark and marvelously fragrant, he put it in his family's pot of rice gruel. It made it so splendid that his neighbors came over to have some, in consequence of which his fortunes improved, and within a number of years he was reasonably well-off.
No, I have no idea when that festival takes place.
Sorry.
The reason why the character 封 is used in naming the dish is that it means to seal, like an official letter or parcel. The meat is darkly hued on one side, and left whole while cooking, creating the visual representation of a stack of documents or cahiers.
Plus, of course, it IS sealed on one side.
The word 焢, which in Hokkien (閩南語 "ban-lam gi") sounds exactly the same as 封，is a transcription of the dialect word for semi-pickling meat, thus both making it savoury and less perishable in a warm climate.
Note that 肉, which means 'meat', is pronounced 'bak' in Hokkien and other Min languages, being a phoneme derived from a different route than Mandarin 'rou' and Cantonese 'yiuk'.
Possibly related to a proto-Malayoid root-word for hog.
焢肉怎麼煮阿？
HOW TO PREPARE HONG BAK?
The Hokkiens of South-East Asia all follow a similar procedure vis a vis the meat itself, but differ enormously as regards additions, the only thing standardly being some pre-soaked black mushrooms.
My original version had the pork left whole, scored and browned on the skin-side, then seethed with a little Indonesian-style sweet soy sauce and a lot of sherry, whereupon I would add ginger slices, whole re-hydrated black mushrooms, whole star-anise, a cinnamon stick, and water to come half way up. Then I would stick it into the oven at low heat, with the lid on, for an hour or two, and ignore it while it cooked in its juices.
It always came out perfect, and butter tender.
You could easily cut it with chop-sticks.
It was a variation of the 封 style.
That was a long time ago.
譜：焢肉
RECIPE: HONG BAK
One and a half pounds of belly pork with skin on.
Half a dozen cloves garlic (or less).
Half a dozen soaked black mushrooms (or more).
Half a dozen slices ginger.
A small piece of cinnamon.
Smallish piece of dried tangerine peel (陳皮).
Two or three whole star anise.
Three TBS soy sauce.
Three TBS brown sugar.
One TBS oyster sauce.
A very hefty jigger of sherry or rice wine.
Half Tsp. ground coriander (optional).
A pinch of freshly ground pepper.
Oil.
Water.
Cut the pork into large chunks. Rub a little of the sugar on the meat, all over. Whack the garlic cloves with the flat of a cleaver to loosen the skin, which remove. Trim off the hard ends, but do not chop the garlic; it's fine the way it is.
Fry the garlic till fragrant, decant to a saucer; you'll add it back later.
On medium heat, colour the pork chunks well, allowing for a little caramelization. Now add everything else including the garlic, and enough water to nearly cover; the pot should be somewhat crowded.
Bring to a boil, turn heat low, and simmer for forty five minutes, stirring occassionally to prevent scorching.
If you are using a larger casserole for cooking, you may add some wedge-cut potato or broken tofu skin sticks (腐竹) to share the juices. In that case, increase the amount of ground coriander and add a little more soy sauce.
The oyster sauce is in lieu of the dried shrimp that many people would use for a faint savory touch.
You could also dust the meat chunks with a little flour before gilding them in the pan, which would enrich and thicken the sauce, but that seems rather pointless.
A slightly thin sauce is preferable when eating Chinese food.
Serve with steamed rice, of course, and your favourite sambal on the side.
NOTE: dried tangerine peel (陳皮) is called 'chenpi' in Mandarin, 'jan pei' in Cantonese, and 'tan peh' in Hokkien. It is often used for a hint of fragrance, and is considered beneficial to the digestion and the mucous membranes. Its use is not only culinary, but also medicinal, having a mild tonifying effect. In cooking it frequently shows up in duck dishes, as well as fatty pork stews, and soups.
Look for packages that promise 新會柑 ('Hsin-hui Tangerine', "san wui gam"), as even though the fruit is too sour to enjoy, these provide the very best dried peels. Unlike most other tangerine peel, it will be a blueish-green, sometimes verging towards brown, or even black.
Good peel keeps its fragrance for a very long time.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
BITTER MELON TO LOVE
One of the simplest things to cook is bitter melon with Chinese sausage, especially if the sausage is either greasy or crumbles nicely. You won't use much, so stop worrying about your arteries.
Bitter melon is good for you.
For one thing, it is hypoglycemic, or so I have been told.
It is also cooling, which is good during summer.
But you can eat it year-round.
Fortunately, I live in the SF Bay Area, so there is no problem finding it. And it is both cheap and delicious. I never tire of its crisp and peppy taste, indeed preferring it entirely unsalted, and nearly uncooked.
炒臘腸涼瓜
Chaau laap-cheung leung-gwaa
One large bitter melon, or two smaller ones.
One Chinese sausage (臘腸 'laap cheung').
Two Tablespoons chilipaste.
Hefty squeeze of lime juice.
A tiny dash of oil.
Cut the bitter melon along the length into two halves. Use a coffee spoon to scrape out seeds and pith. Chop the vegetable coarsely, so that it will not cook too fast.
Rinse the sausage under hot water so that the casing loosens, which then remove. It should peel off in one piece. Crumble the sausage.
Dump both the melon and the meat into the pan at the same time, stir-fry till the sausage pieces gain colour. Then splash in a small jigger of water, and cook it down a bit. Lastly add the chilipaste and lime juice, stir, and decant to a serving bowl.
Purely great with white rice.
Enough for two people.
金然棧 -- 肝腸
Kam Yen Jan: gon cheung
The Chinese sausage of choice is Kam Yen Jan brand, but specifically the version with pork liver added. To my taste it has just the right amount of sweetness, fat, and liver, and it's fun to cook with.
辣醬
Laat jeung
The 'chilipaste' I use is Sriracha hot sauce. If you have a sambal, you might need more or less. But you could also use fermented bean chili sauce (豆瓣醬 'dau baan jeung'). It's up to you.
And your sense of wonder.
苦瓜
Fu gwaa
Bitter melon (momordica charantia) has it's own advocacy group: The National Bitter Melon Council.
Quote: "The National Bitter Melon Council (NBMC) is devoted to the cultivation of a vibrant, diverse community through the promotion and distribution of Bitter Melon. Our projects, events, and festivals celebrate the health, social, culinary, and creative possibilities of this underappreciated vegetable. Advocating the acceptance of Bitter Melon across cultures and cuisines, we believe that Bitter Melon creates an alternative basis for community – that of bitterness!"
This sounds great, but unfortunately the website is not entirely finished.
The scaffolding is still up, and the primer ain't dry yet.
Can't wait to see what it will look like.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Bitter melon is good for you.
For one thing, it is hypoglycemic, or so I have been told.
It is also cooling, which is good during summer.
But you can eat it year-round.
Fortunately, I live in the SF Bay Area, so there is no problem finding it. And it is both cheap and delicious. I never tire of its crisp and peppy taste, indeed preferring it entirely unsalted, and nearly uncooked.
炒臘腸涼瓜
Chaau laap-cheung leung-gwaa
One large bitter melon, or two smaller ones.
One Chinese sausage (臘腸 'laap cheung').
Two Tablespoons chilipaste.
Hefty squeeze of lime juice.
A tiny dash of oil.
Cut the bitter melon along the length into two halves. Use a coffee spoon to scrape out seeds and pith. Chop the vegetable coarsely, so that it will not cook too fast.
Rinse the sausage under hot water so that the casing loosens, which then remove. It should peel off in one piece. Crumble the sausage.
Dump both the melon and the meat into the pan at the same time, stir-fry till the sausage pieces gain colour. Then splash in a small jigger of water, and cook it down a bit. Lastly add the chilipaste and lime juice, stir, and decant to a serving bowl.
Purely great with white rice.
Enough for two people.
金然棧 -- 肝腸
Kam Yen Jan: gon cheung
The Chinese sausage of choice is Kam Yen Jan brand, but specifically the version with pork liver added. To my taste it has just the right amount of sweetness, fat, and liver, and it's fun to cook with.
辣醬
Laat jeung
The 'chilipaste' I use is Sriracha hot sauce. If you have a sambal, you might need more or less. But you could also use fermented bean chili sauce (豆瓣醬 'dau baan jeung'). It's up to you.
And your sense of wonder.
苦瓜
Fu gwaa
Bitter melon (momordica charantia) has it's own advocacy group: The National Bitter Melon Council.
Quote: "The National Bitter Melon Council (NBMC) is devoted to the cultivation of a vibrant, diverse community through the promotion and distribution of Bitter Melon. Our projects, events, and festivals celebrate the health, social, culinary, and creative possibilities of this underappreciated vegetable. Advocating the acceptance of Bitter Melon across cultures and cuisines, we believe that Bitter Melon creates an alternative basis for community – that of bitterness!"
This sounds great, but unfortunately the website is not entirely finished.
The scaffolding is still up, and the primer ain't dry yet.
Can't wait to see what it will look like.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, August 14, 2014
LION HEADS IN SOUP: 滬式上湯獅子頭
One of those things which everyone knows about, but seldom finds in a Chinese restaurant, is a large meatball with some greens in broth. Think of a hamburger, as regards the meaty part, with the vegetable for balance, and soup to make it fun.
Actually, don't think of that. The hamburger bears no resemblance, as the meatball is round, and made of pork. Instead, consider something in between the typical Dutch gehaktbal and the frikandel. That's much better. So round, so plump, so bursting with oinky goodness!
They're called 'lions heads' (獅子頭 'si ji tau') in Cantonese, and are supposed to be a Shanghainese thing. But the recipe most people use is typically Hong Kong, as it includes water chestnuts (馬蹄) and either lahp cheung or cured bacon for flavour, plus often a preserved egg.
To the Shanghainese, this is very close to heresy.
The Dutch wouldn't recognize it either, and instead of soup, they would serve it with hot mustard, and the vegetables on the side. Plus sambal.
Everything on a Dutch plate is better with sambal.
My recipe below does not include the preserved egg, and substitutes three rashers of peppered smoked bacon for the lahp cheung.
Because I am a barbarian, and I can do that.
[係呀，我係鬼佬；點少得嘅咩？]
Well then.
滬式上湯獅子頭
WU SIK SEUNG TONG SI JI TAU
[Shanghai style lion heads in soup]
For the balls:
One pound ground pork.
Three rashers bacon, chopped.
Five or six matai (water chestnuts), chopped.
Two TBS soy sauce.
Two TBS sugar.
One TBS sherry.
Half TBS sesame oil.
One green onion, chopped.
One thumb of ginger, minced.
Two to three cloves garlic, minced.
Two eggs, beaten.
Four TBS cornstarch.
Pinch of five spice powder.
Pinch of freshly ground pepper.
For the broth:
1 pound bokchoi, bases trimmed.
One or two slices of ginger.
One and a half cups of superior stock or broth.
Note: you can substitute quatre epices for the five spice, or a little ground nutmeg.
To prepare the lion heads, mix the pork, bacon, ginger, garlic, matai (馬蹄), and green onion. Work it over with a chef's knife or cleaver till it is considerably finer in texture than it was. Use the blade to scoop it into a bowl, and add the remaining ball-ingredients. Mix well. It should be sticky but on the firm side, not gloopy. If necessary add a little more cornstarch.
Form into four large balls.
Heat a layer of oil in a deep pan or wok. Place the meatballs herein, and colour all over; whether you roll them around or turn them is up to you. Do not cook through, merely brown the outside and firm them up.
Remove them to a casserole. Heat up the stock or broth and pour over the meatballs; it need not cover them. Simmer for about ten minutes or so before adding the bokchoi to cook alongside. When the stems have become tender and the leaves are wilted, the dish is done.
I like to cook large chunks of cucumber (peeled and seeded) with the meatballs and cabbage; see previous excuse that I am a barbarian.
Serve each ball with some of the soup and vegetables.
Rice is an essential adjunct.
So is sambal.
AFTER THOUGHT
Here you have what every Cantonese person thinks of when considering a meal. Pork, bokchoi, rice, and soup, plus the taste of something fried.
Sambal and cucumber are just icing on the cake.
This spells complete happiness.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Actually, don't think of that. The hamburger bears no resemblance, as the meatball is round, and made of pork. Instead, consider something in between the typical Dutch gehaktbal and the frikandel. That's much better. So round, so plump, so bursting with oinky goodness!
They're called 'lions heads' (獅子頭 'si ji tau') in Cantonese, and are supposed to be a Shanghainese thing. But the recipe most people use is typically Hong Kong, as it includes water chestnuts (馬蹄) and either lahp cheung or cured bacon for flavour, plus often a preserved egg.
To the Shanghainese, this is very close to heresy.
The Dutch wouldn't recognize it either, and instead of soup, they would serve it with hot mustard, and the vegetables on the side. Plus sambal.
Everything on a Dutch plate is better with sambal.
My recipe below does not include the preserved egg, and substitutes three rashers of peppered smoked bacon for the lahp cheung.
Because I am a barbarian, and I can do that.
[係呀，我係鬼佬；點少得嘅咩？]
Well then.
滬式上湯獅子頭
WU SIK SEUNG TONG SI JI TAU
[Shanghai style lion heads in soup]
For the balls:
One pound ground pork.
Three rashers bacon, chopped.
Five or six matai (water chestnuts), chopped.
Two TBS soy sauce.
Two TBS sugar.
One TBS sherry.
Half TBS sesame oil.
One green onion, chopped.
One thumb of ginger, minced.
Two to three cloves garlic, minced.
Two eggs, beaten.
Four TBS cornstarch.
Pinch of five spice powder.
Pinch of freshly ground pepper.
For the broth:
1 pound bokchoi, bases trimmed.
One or two slices of ginger.
One and a half cups of superior stock or broth.
Note: you can substitute quatre epices for the five spice, or a little ground nutmeg.
To prepare the lion heads, mix the pork, bacon, ginger, garlic, matai (馬蹄), and green onion. Work it over with a chef's knife or cleaver till it is considerably finer in texture than it was. Use the blade to scoop it into a bowl, and add the remaining ball-ingredients. Mix well. It should be sticky but on the firm side, not gloopy. If necessary add a little more cornstarch.
Form into four large balls.
Heat a layer of oil in a deep pan or wok. Place the meatballs herein, and colour all over; whether you roll them around or turn them is up to you. Do not cook through, merely brown the outside and firm them up.
Remove them to a casserole. Heat up the stock or broth and pour over the meatballs; it need not cover them. Simmer for about ten minutes or so before adding the bokchoi to cook alongside. When the stems have become tender and the leaves are wilted, the dish is done.
I like to cook large chunks of cucumber (peeled and seeded) with the meatballs and cabbage; see previous excuse that I am a barbarian.
Serve each ball with some of the soup and vegetables.
Rice is an essential adjunct.
So is sambal.
AFTER THOUGHT
Here you have what every Cantonese person thinks of when considering a meal. Pork, bokchoi, rice, and soup, plus the taste of something fried.
Sambal and cucumber are just icing on the cake.
This spells complete happiness.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, July 12, 2014
XO SAUCE -- WHAT AND WHEREFORE
One of the pervasive ingredients in the Cantonese kitchen of the present age is a melange of convenience. All cooks are, in essence, short-cut takers. And the substance in question is one hell of a shortcut.
Basically, it's umami up the wazoo.
Cantonese cooking requires fresh ingredients cleanly cooked, with often a touch of a concentrated seafood or savory element. Most likely you are already familiar with such things as soy sauce, oyster sauce, shrimp paste, and various dessicated ingredients like dried shrimp, oysters, and scallops.
What if you combined all of those and gave it a hip name?
XO SAUCE!
It can be added to vegetable dishes, pork preparations, fried rice, and boiled noodles. And it can be made ahead. There is no need to buy bottled versions, though if you live by yourself that certainly is an avenue to explore.
海味或乾海產
Hoi mei waak gon hoi chaan
[Sea flavour OR dried sea produce]
If you live in San Francisco, there are a number of places where useful and worthwhile non-caucasoid ingredients can be found, and the staff will be happy to try to explain how to use them. Go explore.
The four main seafood stock-items (四大海味 'sei taai hoi mei') which every properly run Chinatown should have are 鮑魚 ('bau yü'; abalone), 海參 ('hoi sam'; holothurid, trepang or sea cucumber), 魚翅 ('yü chi'; shark fin, which has been outlawed in California, dammit), and 魚肚 ('yü tou'; fish maw, which is actually an air-sac or buoyancy device internal to the beast).
Collectively these are referred to as 鮑參翅肚 ('bao sam chi tou').
Other standard ingredients will also be offered, including 鹹魚 ('haahm yü'; salt fish), 蝦米 ('haai mai'; dried shrimp), 公魚仔 ('gong yü chai'; spratlings or smelt), 乾貝 ('gon pui'; dried scallop), 乾魷魚 ('gon yau yü'; dried squid), 蠔豉 ('hou si'; dried oysters) 蜇皮 ('jit pei'; jelly fish), et autres.
All of the ingredients for XO Sauce can be bought on Stockton Street or Clement, as well as shops in the outer Richmond and Sunset districts, if you live in the fog. Look for business that say 海味 or 乾海產 on the signboard.
From my quarters C'town is only a short walk away. Close enough that one can amble across the hill in the time it takes to contemplate dinner.
Personally, I believe that precisely like the properly run Chinatown should have at least one 海味店 ('hoi mei dim'), the well-ordered household must ALWAYS have a dried fish on hand.
Preferably more than one.
They're good.
Useful.
食譜: XO醬
Recipe for XO Sauce
12 TBS dried scallops.
8 TBS dried shrimp.
8 TBS chilipaste (sambal ulek).
4 TBS oyster sauce.
2 TBS sugar.
2 TBS soy sauce.
1 TBS shrimp paste.
½ TBS salt.
One small onion.
One bulb of garlic (a dozen cloves, more or less).
An amount of ginger equivalent to the garlic, or more.
Half a cup cooking oil.
One TBS sesame oil.
Soak shrimp and scallops for a few hours in water, till softened. Drain, reserving liquid, and chop to a somewhat granular state, not too fine.
Mince the garlic, ginger, and onion.
In a capacious pan fry the onion till golden. Add the garlic, ginger, shrimp paste, and chilipaste. When the shrimp paste is cooked (a minute or so) and the garlic and ginger have begun to colour, add the chopped scallop and shrimp. Stir-fry till the oil comes out and the mixture is aromatic. Add everything else including the reserved liquids, and again cook till the oil comes out, thus concentrating the flavour from the soaking liquid in the mixture. Cook a little longer on low to darken, which caramelizes it slightly.
Let it cool completely, and distribute it over containers. There should be a layer of oil on top.
Place one container in the refrigerator, and the others in the deepfreeze.
If all the water has been cooked out, it will keep for several weeks in the fridge.
Use either sparingly or liberally.
Most recipes for XO Sauce will include Chinwa ham or Chinese sausage, some substitute preserved pork-belly or even bacon. Seeing as those are things which every well-stocked larder should have (erm, why do you think it's called a 'larder', eh?), it seems rather contra-indicated to dump those into the compound. Especially as moisture is the great enemy of a substance such as this.
Smoked bacon is not a bad idea, however.
It seldom is.
XO Sauce can be used much like any other cooking concentrate in Cantonese cuisine. Add it after the main ingredient, before the liquor, stock, and glaze. The idea is to imbue the fragrance in the dish, while letting moisture re-meld with the flavouring matter. One or two tablespoons is sufficient for a dish.
By itself it makes a pleasant sambal, not too hot.
Good with mixed blanched vegetables.
Or in Indo-style snacks.
GLOSSARY
Dried scallops: 乾貝 gon pui, 乾瑤柱 gon yiu chyu, 江瑤柱 gong yiu chyu. Dried shrimp: 蝦米 haa mai. Chilipaste, sambal ulek: 辣椒醬 laat chiu jeung. Oyster sauce: 蠔油 hou yau. Sugar: 糖 tong. Soy sauce: 醬油 jeung yau, 豉油 si yau. Shrimp paste: 鹹蝦醬 haam haa jeung. Salt: 鹽 yim. Onion: 洋蔥 yeung chung (可以用四、五頭小蔥). Garlic: 蒜 suen. Ginger: 薑 geung. Sesame oil: 麻油 maa yau. Chinwa ham: 金華火腿 gam-waa fo-dui. Chinese sausage: 臘腸 laap cheung. Preserved pork-belly: 臘肉 lap yiuk. Bacon: 煙肉 yin yiuk ("smoked pork"), 醃肉 yim yiuk ("preserved pork"), 鹹肉 haam yiuk ("salt pork").
Indo: 係印度尼西亞嘅荷蘭或華僑後裔，咁佢哋常常係多元文化主義啲。
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Basically, it's umami up the wazoo.
Cantonese cooking requires fresh ingredients cleanly cooked, with often a touch of a concentrated seafood or savory element. Most likely you are already familiar with such things as soy sauce, oyster sauce, shrimp paste, and various dessicated ingredients like dried shrimp, oysters, and scallops.
What if you combined all of those and gave it a hip name?
XO SAUCE!
It can be added to vegetable dishes, pork preparations, fried rice, and boiled noodles. And it can be made ahead. There is no need to buy bottled versions, though if you live by yourself that certainly is an avenue to explore.
海味或乾海產
Hoi mei waak gon hoi chaan
[Sea flavour OR dried sea produce]
If you live in San Francisco, there are a number of places where useful and worthwhile non-caucasoid ingredients can be found, and the staff will be happy to try to explain how to use them. Go explore.
The four main seafood stock-items (四大海味 'sei taai hoi mei') which every properly run Chinatown should have are 鮑魚 ('bau yü'; abalone), 海參 ('hoi sam'; holothurid, trepang or sea cucumber), 魚翅 ('yü chi'; shark fin, which has been outlawed in California, dammit), and 魚肚 ('yü tou'; fish maw, which is actually an air-sac or buoyancy device internal to the beast).
Collectively these are referred to as 鮑參翅肚 ('bao sam chi tou').
Other standard ingredients will also be offered, including 鹹魚 ('haahm yü'; salt fish), 蝦米 ('haai mai'; dried shrimp), 公魚仔 ('gong yü chai'; spratlings or smelt), 乾貝 ('gon pui'; dried scallop), 乾魷魚 ('gon yau yü'; dried squid), 蠔豉 ('hou si'; dried oysters) 蜇皮 ('jit pei'; jelly fish), et autres.
All of the ingredients for XO Sauce can be bought on Stockton Street or Clement, as well as shops in the outer Richmond and Sunset districts, if you live in the fog. Look for business that say 海味 or 乾海產 on the signboard.
From my quarters C'town is only a short walk away. Close enough that one can amble across the hill in the time it takes to contemplate dinner.
Personally, I believe that precisely like the properly run Chinatown should have at least one 海味店 ('hoi mei dim'), the well-ordered household must ALWAYS have a dried fish on hand.
Preferably more than one.
They're good.
Useful.
食譜: XO醬
Recipe for XO Sauce
12 TBS dried scallops.
8 TBS dried shrimp.
8 TBS chilipaste (sambal ulek).
4 TBS oyster sauce.
2 TBS sugar.
2 TBS soy sauce.
1 TBS shrimp paste.
½ TBS salt.
One small onion.
One bulb of garlic (a dozen cloves, more or less).
An amount of ginger equivalent to the garlic, or more.
Half a cup cooking oil.
One TBS sesame oil.
Soak shrimp and scallops for a few hours in water, till softened. Drain, reserving liquid, and chop to a somewhat granular state, not too fine.
Mince the garlic, ginger, and onion.
In a capacious pan fry the onion till golden. Add the garlic, ginger, shrimp paste, and chilipaste. When the shrimp paste is cooked (a minute or so) and the garlic and ginger have begun to colour, add the chopped scallop and shrimp. Stir-fry till the oil comes out and the mixture is aromatic. Add everything else including the reserved liquids, and again cook till the oil comes out, thus concentrating the flavour from the soaking liquid in the mixture. Cook a little longer on low to darken, which caramelizes it slightly.
Let it cool completely, and distribute it over containers. There should be a layer of oil on top.
Place one container in the refrigerator, and the others in the deepfreeze.
If all the water has been cooked out, it will keep for several weeks in the fridge.
Use either sparingly or liberally.
Most recipes for XO Sauce will include Chinwa ham or Chinese sausage, some substitute preserved pork-belly or even bacon. Seeing as those are things which every well-stocked larder should have (erm, why do you think it's called a 'larder', eh?), it seems rather contra-indicated to dump those into the compound. Especially as moisture is the great enemy of a substance such as this.
Smoked bacon is not a bad idea, however.
It seldom is.
XO Sauce can be used much like any other cooking concentrate in Cantonese cuisine. Add it after the main ingredient, before the liquor, stock, and glaze. The idea is to imbue the fragrance in the dish, while letting moisture re-meld with the flavouring matter. One or two tablespoons is sufficient for a dish.
By itself it makes a pleasant sambal, not too hot.
Good with mixed blanched vegetables.
Or in Indo-style snacks.
GLOSSARY
Dried scallops: 乾貝 gon pui, 乾瑤柱 gon yiu chyu, 江瑤柱 gong yiu chyu. Dried shrimp: 蝦米 haa mai. Chilipaste, sambal ulek: 辣椒醬 laat chiu jeung. Oyster sauce: 蠔油 hou yau. Sugar: 糖 tong. Soy sauce: 醬油 jeung yau, 豉油 si yau. Shrimp paste: 鹹蝦醬 haam haa jeung. Salt: 鹽 yim. Onion: 洋蔥 yeung chung (可以用四、五頭小蔥). Garlic: 蒜 suen. Ginger: 薑 geung. Sesame oil: 麻油 maa yau. Chinwa ham: 金華火腿 gam-waa fo-dui. Chinese sausage: 臘腸 laap cheung. Preserved pork-belly: 臘肉 lap yiuk. Bacon: 煙肉 yin yiuk ("smoked pork"), 醃肉 yim yiuk ("preserved pork"), 鹹肉 haam yiuk ("salt pork").
Indo: 係印度尼西亞嘅荷蘭或華僑後裔，咁佢哋常常係多元文化主義啲。
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, June 30, 2014
CRISPY SKIN ROAST PORK -- 脆皮燒肉
Another U.S. holiday is coming up. This may surprise you, because the American capitalist classes are known for not wanting to give the serfs any slack, but we'd probably string the bastards up if they didn't give us off for July Fourth. Which celebrates our independence from tyranny.
What could be more American, on July Fourth, than crispy roast pork belly? Or, as you may know it, thịt heo quay (Vietnamese), cheui pei sui yiuk (Cantonese). Liyempo in Tagalog, or barriga de cerdo asada.
It is considerably better than burnt hotdogs.
Great in a burrito.
[脆 cheui: crispy. 皮 pei: skin, rind. 燒 siu: roast, barbecue. 肉 yiuk: meat, by which is almost always meant pork, unless some other animal is named.]
The recipe below uses terms like "a little", "some", "approximately", and other imprecise specifications. This presumes you know how to cook.
Feel the pork skin, be the pork skin.
Grasshopper.
Zen.
脆皮燒肉
CHEUI PEI SIU YIUK
Two LBS pork belly.
½ tsp salt.
3 tsp sugar.
1½ tsp five-spice powder.
½ tsp pepper.
1 tbsp 花雕 (fine rice wine).
Rinse the piece of pork belly well. Heat a little water to boiling in a shallow pan, put the meat skin side down in there to blanch; most of the flesh should be well clear of water. This will tighten the skin. Take it out, let it dry skin side up for an hour. Stab the skin very many times with an ice-pick. Flip it over, and jab at the meat fiercely with a knife to make shallow thin gashes. Mix the ingredients for the marinade together, and thoroughly rub it into the meat and the sides, keeping the skin clear. Place the pork meat side down in a dish with the rest of the marinade, rub some vinegar and a pinch of salt over the skin.
Place it in the refrigerator for several hours or overnight. This will dry out the skin, while the marinade flavours penetrate the meat.
Remove the meat from the fridge, and put it on a rack over a pan of water, skin up. Rub a little more vinegar into the skin. Preheat the oven to 400 - 425 degrees Fahrenheit (approximately 220 degrees Celsius), then bung the whole arrangement in to roast for forty to forty five minutes.
At this point the skin should be fairly crispy, but you can stick it under the broiler till the optimum degree of crispy-crackly has been achieved; the skin should be bubbling.
Take it out, let it cool for twenty minutes or so, and chop it up.
Serve it with rice and sploodge Sriracha, or roll it into a burrito with some crunchy herbs and vegetables, rice, and re-fried beans. Add salsa and a dash of soy sauce for extra goodness.
You will have noticed that I specified 花雕 ('faa diu'), which is a yellow rice wine from 紹興 ('siuheng'), a prefecture in 浙江 ('jitgong'), which you may know as Chekiang Province. That isn't very American, is it?
But if you're like me, you probably have a bottle of mediocre Bourbon somewhere in the apartment (look under the bed), and that works just as well. Besides, it's good for you; grows hair on your palms.
花雕 can be used in lieu of Vermouth if you're making a Manhattan. It's not as strong a flavour, rather more like sherry, and a bit sweet. Manhattan Cocktails are VERY festive!
COOL AND EVEN-TEMPERED AFTERTHOUGHT
Years ago, Savage Kitten and I would celebrate the Fourth by going to the top of a nearby hill, and watching the fireworks. I fully expect that she'll be off celebrating with her boyfriend, however, and I have no plans to do anything special. I'll probably head off into Chinatown for bittermelon and pork over rice, or something.
If I have any cheui pei siu yiuk at all, it will most likely have been from the Kam Po on Broadway and Powell. They do a stellar rendition, and the chap with the cleaver speaks not a word of English.
我好中意肥肉！
['Ngo hou jung-yi fei yiuk!' (粵語：I really like fatty meat!).]
No, I shan't be cooking. Bugger the effort. It's just me.
It would be a pointless waste of time.
Happy Fourth.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
What could be more American, on July Fourth, than crispy roast pork belly? Or, as you may know it, thịt heo quay (Vietnamese), cheui pei sui yiuk (Cantonese). Liyempo in Tagalog, or barriga de cerdo asada.
It is considerably better than burnt hotdogs.
Great in a burrito.
[脆 cheui: crispy. 皮 pei: skin, rind. 燒 siu: roast, barbecue. 肉 yiuk: meat, by which is almost always meant pork, unless some other animal is named.]
The recipe below uses terms like "a little", "some", "approximately", and other imprecise specifications. This presumes you know how to cook.
Feel the pork skin, be the pork skin.
Grasshopper.
Zen.
脆皮燒肉
CHEUI PEI SIU YIUK
Two LBS pork belly.
½ tsp salt.
3 tsp sugar.
1½ tsp five-spice powder.
½ tsp pepper.
1 tbsp 花雕 (fine rice wine).
Rinse the piece of pork belly well. Heat a little water to boiling in a shallow pan, put the meat skin side down in there to blanch; most of the flesh should be well clear of water. This will tighten the skin. Take it out, let it dry skin side up for an hour. Stab the skin very many times with an ice-pick. Flip it over, and jab at the meat fiercely with a knife to make shallow thin gashes. Mix the ingredients for the marinade together, and thoroughly rub it into the meat and the sides, keeping the skin clear. Place the pork meat side down in a dish with the rest of the marinade, rub some vinegar and a pinch of salt over the skin.
Place it in the refrigerator for several hours or overnight. This will dry out the skin, while the marinade flavours penetrate the meat.
Remove the meat from the fridge, and put it on a rack over a pan of water, skin up. Rub a little more vinegar into the skin. Preheat the oven to 400 - 425 degrees Fahrenheit (approximately 220 degrees Celsius), then bung the whole arrangement in to roast for forty to forty five minutes.
At this point the skin should be fairly crispy, but you can stick it under the broiler till the optimum degree of crispy-crackly has been achieved; the skin should be bubbling.
Take it out, let it cool for twenty minutes or so, and chop it up.
Serve it with rice and sploodge Sriracha, or roll it into a burrito with some crunchy herbs and vegetables, rice, and re-fried beans. Add salsa and a dash of soy sauce for extra goodness.
You will have noticed that I specified 花雕 ('faa diu'), which is a yellow rice wine from 紹興 ('siuheng'), a prefecture in 浙江 ('jitgong'), which you may know as Chekiang Province. That isn't very American, is it?
But if you're like me, you probably have a bottle of mediocre Bourbon somewhere in the apartment (look under the bed), and that works just as well. Besides, it's good for you; grows hair on your palms.
花雕 can be used in lieu of Vermouth if you're making a Manhattan. It's not as strong a flavour, rather more like sherry, and a bit sweet. Manhattan Cocktails are VERY festive!
COOL AND EVEN-TEMPERED AFTERTHOUGHT
Years ago, Savage Kitten and I would celebrate the Fourth by going to the top of a nearby hill, and watching the fireworks. I fully expect that she'll be off celebrating with her boyfriend, however, and I have no plans to do anything special. I'll probably head off into Chinatown for bittermelon and pork over rice, or something.
If I have any cheui pei siu yiuk at all, it will most likely have been from the Kam Po on Broadway and Powell. They do a stellar rendition, and the chap with the cleaver speaks not a word of English.
我好中意肥肉！
['Ngo hou jung-yi fei yiuk!' (粵語：I really like fatty meat!).]
No, I shan't be cooking. Bugger the effort. It's just me.
It would be a pointless waste of time.
Happy Fourth.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, June 01, 2014
HELL FOR CRUSTACEANS: 避風塘炒蟹
Undoubtedly one of the next big things that will hit this food-slut metropolis (SF) is Typhoon Shelter Crab. Or a variation thereof. I can already imagine the moans of exquise epicurean gourmegasm that will erupt, as well as the snarls of outrage on Yelp over positive or negative reviews. People will inevitably object that the Typhoon Shelter Crab was far better in Hong Kong. Especially in some boîte that only they know about.
Given that crabs are a messy business, but so incredibly tasty, I would suggest that the best crab ever is the one that makes you want to lick your companion's face.
You should know that a Van Dyke beard, such as I myself have, is an awesome crab fragment catcher.
I'm just mentioning that in passing, think nothing of it.
Refined yet piratical.
避風塘炒蟹
BEI FUNG TONG CHAAU HAAI
["Escape Wind Embankment Stirfry Crab"]
Typhoon Shelter Crab originated in the dai paai dongs and floating villages over a generation ago, and is the one dish you really must try in Hong Kong.
Along with several dozen other dishes that are really the one dish you must try.
The key to something so well-suited to sheer self-indulgence is subtlety.
Garlic, ginger, onions, dried chilies, and salted black beans.
Balance, careful proportion, and deft hands.
If you can't go to Hong Kong, make Typhoon Shelter Crab yourself. There are crabs in Chinatown and down at the wharf. Spread some newspaper over the dining table, it's going to be messy.
Buy a bottle of chardonnay and some sourdough.
PREPARING CRABS FOR THE WOK
Note that while the crabs should be so fresh that they're fighting their way out of the bag while you're on the bus going home, all pugnacious and spirited, they'll calm down if you pop them in the refrigerator for half an hour before whacking them. Just flip them on their backs and whack them right through the sternum, head to arse. Then chop off the claws, and whack between the legs so that you can twist them loose. Rinse all parts under cold running water. Crack the claws and parts with the blunt end of the cleaver, and take the remaining meat out of the shell. Dust everything with cornflour and some freshly ground pepper.
I'm assuming crabs are always bad tempered and have an attitude problem, but for all I know they could be excited about this splendid adventure and singing to themselves, or thinking about a new Chevrolet.
I just don't know. Neither do you. All animals are alive before they're killed for food. The more recently so, often the better.
Whacking and heat put a quick end to that.
TYPHOON SHELTER CRAB
Crab, two pounds (four live ones).
One hundred cloves of garlic, minced (eight heads).
Thumblength ginger, minced.
One onion, sliced.
Eight scallions, cut into lengths.
Two to six dried chilies, cracked and seeded.
Two TBS fermented black beans, coarsely smashed.
Quarter cup of rice wine or sherry.
Quarter cup of water or stock.
Half TBS oyster sauce.
Half tsp ground black pepper.
Half tsp. salt.
Pinch of sugar.
Dash of sesame oil.
Cornflour.
Oil.
First peel and chop the garlic, and soak it in water for an hour (doing so will prevent it scorching or browning too much). Drain, pat dry with a cloth, and fry it golden-crisp. Remove from the oil and set aside.
Dust the crab pieces with cornflour and put them meat side down in the hot oil (this seals in the flavour). Turn and fry the shell side. Drain and reserve.
Saute the ginger, onion, dry chilies, return crab to the pan.
Add the fermented black beans, rice wine or sherry, water or stock, oyster sauce, and the other remaining ingredients, stir well, dump the fried garlic over, and serve.
避風塘炒蟹
配料:
生猛蟹2公斤(四個)
蒜瓣100兩 (8頭)，切碎
姜3-6釐米，切碎
洋蔥頭1粒，切碎
青蔥8棵
乾辣椒2-6隻，剁碎
豆豉2湯匙
花彫酒4湯匙
水或上湯4湯匙
蠔油半湯匙
胡椒半茶匙
鹽半茶匙
白糖小量
麻油少許
粟粉
油
做法:
大蒜皮去衣切碎，先浸水 (泡大約一小時)，用乾布吸乾啲，炸至金金脆脆，盛起瀝乾。 蟹洗淨、切件，然後灑上粟粉，炸至金黃，瀝乾。 燒油鑊炒香姜、洋蔥、乾辣椒，放蟹件入鑊。 加豆豉、花彫酒、清水或上湯、蠔油, 同埋其他調味料、兜勻; 加炸蒜，即成。
Here's a neat-o-keen video clip that shows you how it's done.
IC電磁爐小炒 避風塘炒蟹
[Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZdd-pMQqUg.]
Note that the gentleman above has a slightly different recipe, and includes Chinese celery (中芹) as one of the ingredients. This will not detract in any way, and will add a splash more colour to the dish. My recipe is predicated on self-indulgence, San Francisco standards of garlic preference, and the idea that you would probably not want to be a calm and balanced social person while eating this.
As a further note, if you use mild dry chilies, you can add a sploodge of Sriracha Hot Chili Sauce to your plate. This is always recommended; Sriracha is a vegetable, and full of vitamin C.
It's good for you. Stay healthy.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Given that crabs are a messy business, but so incredibly tasty, I would suggest that the best crab ever is the one that makes you want to lick your companion's face.
You should know that a Van Dyke beard, such as I myself have, is an awesome crab fragment catcher.
I'm just mentioning that in passing, think nothing of it.
Refined yet piratical.
避風塘炒蟹
BEI FUNG TONG CHAAU HAAI
["Escape Wind Embankment Stirfry Crab"]
Typhoon Shelter Crab originated in the dai paai dongs and floating villages over a generation ago, and is the one dish you really must try in Hong Kong.
Along with several dozen other dishes that are really the one dish you must try.
The key to something so well-suited to sheer self-indulgence is subtlety.
Garlic, ginger, onions, dried chilies, and salted black beans.
Balance, careful proportion, and deft hands.
If you can't go to Hong Kong, make Typhoon Shelter Crab yourself. There are crabs in Chinatown and down at the wharf. Spread some newspaper over the dining table, it's going to be messy.
Buy a bottle of chardonnay and some sourdough.
PREPARING CRABS FOR THE WOK
Note that while the crabs should be so fresh that they're fighting their way out of the bag while you're on the bus going home, all pugnacious and spirited, they'll calm down if you pop them in the refrigerator for half an hour before whacking them. Just flip them on their backs and whack them right through the sternum, head to arse. Then chop off the claws, and whack between the legs so that you can twist them loose. Rinse all parts under cold running water. Crack the claws and parts with the blunt end of the cleaver, and take the remaining meat out of the shell. Dust everything with cornflour and some freshly ground pepper.
I'm assuming crabs are always bad tempered and have an attitude problem, but for all I know they could be excited about this splendid adventure and singing to themselves, or thinking about a new Chevrolet.
I just don't know. Neither do you. All animals are alive before they're killed for food. The more recently so, often the better.
Whacking and heat put a quick end to that.
TYPHOON SHELTER CRAB
Crab, two pounds (four live ones).
One hundred cloves of garlic, minced (eight heads).
Thumblength ginger, minced.
One onion, sliced.
Eight scallions, cut into lengths.
Two to six dried chilies, cracked and seeded.
Two TBS fermented black beans, coarsely smashed.
Quarter cup of rice wine or sherry.
Quarter cup of water or stock.
Half TBS oyster sauce.
Half tsp ground black pepper.
Half tsp. salt.
Pinch of sugar.
Dash of sesame oil.
Cornflour.
Oil.
First peel and chop the garlic, and soak it in water for an hour (doing so will prevent it scorching or browning too much). Drain, pat dry with a cloth, and fry it golden-crisp. Remove from the oil and set aside.
Dust the crab pieces with cornflour and put them meat side down in the hot oil (this seals in the flavour). Turn and fry the shell side. Drain and reserve.
Saute the ginger, onion, dry chilies, return crab to the pan.
Add the fermented black beans, rice wine or sherry, water or stock, oyster sauce, and the other remaining ingredients, stir well, dump the fried garlic over, and serve.
避風塘炒蟹
配料:
生猛蟹2公斤(四個)
蒜瓣100兩 (8頭)，切碎
姜3-6釐米，切碎
洋蔥頭1粒，切碎
青蔥8棵
乾辣椒2-6隻，剁碎
豆豉2湯匙
花彫酒4湯匙
水或上湯4湯匙
蠔油半湯匙
胡椒半茶匙
鹽半茶匙
白糖小量
麻油少許
粟粉
油
做法:
大蒜皮去衣切碎，先浸水 (泡大約一小時)，用乾布吸乾啲，炸至金金脆脆，盛起瀝乾。 蟹洗淨、切件，然後灑上粟粉，炸至金黃，瀝乾。 燒油鑊炒香姜、洋蔥、乾辣椒，放蟹件入鑊。 加豆豉、花彫酒、清水或上湯、蠔油, 同埋其他調味料、兜勻; 加炸蒜，即成。
Here's a neat-o-keen video clip that shows you how it's done.
IC電磁爐小炒 避風塘炒蟹
[Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZdd-pMQqUg.]
Note that the gentleman above has a slightly different recipe, and includes Chinese celery (中芹) as one of the ingredients. This will not detract in any way, and will add a splash more colour to the dish. My recipe is predicated on self-indulgence, San Francisco standards of garlic preference, and the idea that you would probably not want to be a calm and balanced social person while eating this.
As a further note, if you use mild dry chilies, you can add a sploodge of Sriracha Hot Chili Sauce to your plate. This is always recommended; Sriracha is a vegetable, and full of vitamin C.
It's good for you. Stay healthy.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
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.
==========================================================================
Monday, January 13, 2014
DOUBLE HAPPINESS: MUI CHOI KAU YUK AND SUEN CHOI PAAK YUK
Over the past few weeks I've casually discussed Chinese food on this blog, and mentioned several tasty things of an odd nature. Odd, that is, to the ethnicities one might snidely call "uncomplicated-American".
Late yesterday I woke up with a start and realized that the one dish which is guaranteed to repel diet-conscious office types AND moronic football fans in equal measure is mui choi kau yuk; fatty pork and salt cabbage ("plum vegetable").
It is delicious, evocative of good things, home-style, and luxurious.
A necessary element in your life.
MUI CHOI KAU YUK 梅菜扣肉
Fatty pork with salt cabbage.
One pound pork belly meat.
Quarter to half cup mui choi (梅菜), or slightly more.
Three cloves garlic, slivered.
Several slices of ginger, slivered.
Two TBS soy sauce, plus a little extra.
One TBS rice wine or sherry.
Half TBS sugar.
Small pinch five spice powder.
Coarsely chop the mui choi, then rinse it in a sieve to remove sand. Dump it in a bowl of cold water and let it soak for an hour. Drain, then rinse, drain and rinse again. This removes the salt used to preserve it.
Set it aside.
Wash the hunk of pork belly, pat it dry with a paper towel. Use a fork to pierce the skin, then rub it with a little extra soy sauce and the pinch of five spice powder, and set it aside for half an hour.
In skillet or wok sear the chunk of pork belly on the skin side till crispy-brown, then colour it all over in the hot grease that will have rendered. Remove pork from pan.
Drain most of the grease (which can be saved or discarded, as you choose), and parch the mui choi, adding the slivered ginger and garlic half-way through. The purpose is to concentrate flavours slightly, not to fully cook the vegetable matter at this stage.
Put the pork belly in a heavy enameled sauce pan OR a clay pot, distribute the mui choi around it, and add the two tablespoons of soy sauce, the sugar, and the sherry. Put it on heat, and when it reaches boiling temperature, cover it, slip a heat absorber underneath, lower the heat to barely alive, and let it gently cook for three or four hours till the pork is quite tender. Check it occasionally to avoid scorching, and to spoon some of the liquid over the meat. Add water if necessary.
When it is done, remove from heat, and cut the pork belly chunk into finger thick chopstickable slices -- this can be done while leaving it in the pot -- dump some chopped cilantro on top, and serve.
[A slightly different version of this dish is here: mui choi kau yuk.]
Fatty meat with cabbage is typically a winter delight, sure to please friends and family if they are sensible people, and quite utterly horrifying to most suburbanites.
So, to expand your repertoire with a dish in the same earthy vein, which is also superb and yummy, here's a recipe for a northern Chinese favourite which is nearly as popular among southerners nowadays.
Both dishes should be accompanied by rice.
Plenty of steamed rice.
And chili paste!
SUEN CHOI PAAK YUK 酸菜白肉
Sour cabbage and white-cooked pork.
One package of North-East style sour cabbage (東北酸菜).
Scant pound of fatty pork.
One or two enoki clumps, trimmed and sliced.
A small handful of dried tofu sticks.
Two TBS rice wine or sherry.
A few thick slices of ginger, slivered.
One or two garlic cloves, slivered.
Two chopped scallion.
Half TBS chili paste.
A pinch of five spice powder.
Drops of sesame oil.
Drops of tabasco.
Cilantro.
Rinse and drain the sour cabbage, chop it coarsely. Scrub the lump of pork, brown it on the skin side to form a nice dark crust, then dump it in a pot of boiling lightly salted water along with some of the scallion and ginger, and simmer it for two hours. Take it out and let it cool.
Soak the tofu sticks till soft, drain, and cut into long chunks.
Heat a little oil in wok or skillet, gild the ginger and garlic to aromatize. Add the scallion, soon followed by the chili paste, then the rice wine or sherry to sizzle. Dump this into a roomy clay pot or enameled stew-pan, with the five spice powder. Add the tofu sticks, cut enoki, and the cabbage, with water to cover and a splash of the pork simmering liquid.
Cook for about ten minutes.
Slice the now cooled and fully cooked pork into thickish slices, add to the pot, with more liquid; the soupiness of the dish will be part of the pleasure. Cook another five or ten minutes.
Dash in a little sesame oil and tabasco, cilantro on top, and serve.
NOTES:
Pork belly, or 'fatty pork', is usually called ng-faa naam (五花腩 five flower pork brisket) in Chinese markets. The layers of intense fat and reddish lean meat alternate beautifully, and you should select what suits you. Bear in mind that there is supposed to be a balance, which is what makes it so versatile and delicious.
Plum vegetable (梅菜 'mui choi') is a small brassica preserved with salt.
I usually buy the canned version.
Five spice powder (五香粉 'ng heung fan') is made of star-anise (八角 'baat gok'), fennel seed (小茴香 'siu wui heung'), cassia bark (肉桂、玉桂 'yuk gwai'), fagara pepper corns (花椒 'faa chiu'), and cloves (丁香 'ding heung').
Enoki (金針菇 'gam jam gu') are thin pale yellow mushrooms that are sold in lumps growing from a single spore-clump. You don't need much in 酸菜白肉 as they are included merely for a bit of contrast. Wash them first, trim off the base, and just dump them in.
Dried tofu sticks (腐竹 'fu juk') are strips of the congealed skin that results when boiling soy milk, collected and hung up to dry. This product absorbs flavours most marvelously, is highly nutritious, and adds a very enjoyable textural element to stews.
Sour cabbage (酸菜 'suen choi') is a common type of pickled cabbage, tangy and slightly sour. After a brief blanching, the halved or quartered vegetable is packed into brine with a weight on top and left to ferment for at least three weeks. It can be eaten raw but is usually combined with fatty meats, which is a particularly good combination; the two items balance each other.
Available in vacuum sealed packs of around a pound, also larger packs of a kilo. Buy the smaller packs -- 200 grammes to 300 grammes.
North-Eastern style sour cabbage (東北酸菜 'tung paak suen choi') is stronger in taste, and has some chili added for oomph.
Sambal, or chili paste (辣椒醬 'laat chiu jeung') is the one indispensable substance that you should have on hand at all times. Mashed hot peppers with a little salt, maybe a touch of vinegar or lime juice added. Rather than making it yourself, simply purchase a jar of it in C'town or the Tenderloin, and stick it in your refrigerator. It is surprising how fast it disappears;
I think the raccoons are stealing it.
If you plan on visiting England it might be wise to actually make some of it yourself to pack in your carry-on luggage: fresh habaneros, ground toasted dried Thai birdseyes or chile d'arbol for a bit of bulk, salt, vinegar, and oil. The last three in equal measure, just enough to make it smooee, but not gloppy. The salt and vinegar will preserve it for at least several weeks, and the inclusion of habanero makes it hot enough that your hosts may not even notice that you slipped a tiny little smear onto your plate to assist you in downing their fine cuisine.
慢慢食 ('maan maan sik': bon gusto).
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Late yesterday I woke up with a start and realized that the one dish which is guaranteed to repel diet-conscious office types AND moronic football fans in equal measure is mui choi kau yuk; fatty pork and salt cabbage ("plum vegetable").
It is delicious, evocative of good things, home-style, and luxurious.
A necessary element in your life.
MUI CHOI KAU YUK 梅菜扣肉
Fatty pork with salt cabbage.
One pound pork belly meat.
Quarter to half cup mui choi (梅菜), or slightly more.
Three cloves garlic, slivered.
Several slices of ginger, slivered.
Two TBS soy sauce, plus a little extra.
One TBS rice wine or sherry.
Half TBS sugar.
Small pinch five spice powder.
Coarsely chop the mui choi, then rinse it in a sieve to remove sand. Dump it in a bowl of cold water and let it soak for an hour. Drain, then rinse, drain and rinse again. This removes the salt used to preserve it.
Set it aside.
Wash the hunk of pork belly, pat it dry with a paper towel. Use a fork to pierce the skin, then rub it with a little extra soy sauce and the pinch of five spice powder, and set it aside for half an hour.
In skillet or wok sear the chunk of pork belly on the skin side till crispy-brown, then colour it all over in the hot grease that will have rendered. Remove pork from pan.
Drain most of the grease (which can be saved or discarded, as you choose), and parch the mui choi, adding the slivered ginger and garlic half-way through. The purpose is to concentrate flavours slightly, not to fully cook the vegetable matter at this stage.
Put the pork belly in a heavy enameled sauce pan OR a clay pot, distribute the mui choi around it, and add the two tablespoons of soy sauce, the sugar, and the sherry. Put it on heat, and when it reaches boiling temperature, cover it, slip a heat absorber underneath, lower the heat to barely alive, and let it gently cook for three or four hours till the pork is quite tender. Check it occasionally to avoid scorching, and to spoon some of the liquid over the meat. Add water if necessary.
When it is done, remove from heat, and cut the pork belly chunk into finger thick chopstickable slices -- this can be done while leaving it in the pot -- dump some chopped cilantro on top, and serve.
[A slightly different version of this dish is here: mui choi kau yuk.]
Fatty meat with cabbage is typically a winter delight, sure to please friends and family if they are sensible people, and quite utterly horrifying to most suburbanites.
So, to expand your repertoire with a dish in the same earthy vein, which is also superb and yummy, here's a recipe for a northern Chinese favourite which is nearly as popular among southerners nowadays.
Both dishes should be accompanied by rice.
Plenty of steamed rice.
And chili paste!
SUEN CHOI PAAK YUK 酸菜白肉
Sour cabbage and white-cooked pork.
One package of North-East style sour cabbage (東北酸菜).
Scant pound of fatty pork.
One or two enoki clumps, trimmed and sliced.
A small handful of dried tofu sticks.
Two TBS rice wine or sherry.
A few thick slices of ginger, slivered.
One or two garlic cloves, slivered.
Two chopped scallion.
Half TBS chili paste.
A pinch of five spice powder.
Drops of sesame oil.
Drops of tabasco.
Cilantro.
Rinse and drain the sour cabbage, chop it coarsely. Scrub the lump of pork, brown it on the skin side to form a nice dark crust, then dump it in a pot of boiling lightly salted water along with some of the scallion and ginger, and simmer it for two hours. Take it out and let it cool.
Soak the tofu sticks till soft, drain, and cut into long chunks.
Heat a little oil in wok or skillet, gild the ginger and garlic to aromatize. Add the scallion, soon followed by the chili paste, then the rice wine or sherry to sizzle. Dump this into a roomy clay pot or enameled stew-pan, with the five spice powder. Add the tofu sticks, cut enoki, and the cabbage, with water to cover and a splash of the pork simmering liquid.
Cook for about ten minutes.
Slice the now cooled and fully cooked pork into thickish slices, add to the pot, with more liquid; the soupiness of the dish will be part of the pleasure. Cook another five or ten minutes.
Dash in a little sesame oil and tabasco, cilantro on top, and serve.
NOTES:
Pork belly, or 'fatty pork', is usually called ng-faa naam (五花腩 five flower pork brisket) in Chinese markets. The layers of intense fat and reddish lean meat alternate beautifully, and you should select what suits you. Bear in mind that there is supposed to be a balance, which is what makes it so versatile and delicious.
Plum vegetable (梅菜 'mui choi') is a small brassica preserved with salt.
I usually buy the canned version.
Five spice powder (五香粉 'ng heung fan') is made of star-anise (八角 'baat gok'), fennel seed (小茴香 'siu wui heung'), cassia bark (肉桂、玉桂 'yuk gwai'), fagara pepper corns (花椒 'faa chiu'), and cloves (丁香 'ding heung').
Enoki (金針菇 'gam jam gu') are thin pale yellow mushrooms that are sold in lumps growing from a single spore-clump. You don't need much in 酸菜白肉 as they are included merely for a bit of contrast. Wash them first, trim off the base, and just dump them in.
Dried tofu sticks (腐竹 'fu juk') are strips of the congealed skin that results when boiling soy milk, collected and hung up to dry. This product absorbs flavours most marvelously, is highly nutritious, and adds a very enjoyable textural element to stews.
Sour cabbage (酸菜 'suen choi') is a common type of pickled cabbage, tangy and slightly sour. After a brief blanching, the halved or quartered vegetable is packed into brine with a weight on top and left to ferment for at least three weeks. It can be eaten raw but is usually combined with fatty meats, which is a particularly good combination; the two items balance each other.
Available in vacuum sealed packs of around a pound, also larger packs of a kilo. Buy the smaller packs -- 200 grammes to 300 grammes.
North-Eastern style sour cabbage (東北酸菜 'tung paak suen choi') is stronger in taste, and has some chili added for oomph.
Sambal, or chili paste (辣椒醬 'laat chiu jeung') is the one indispensable substance that you should have on hand at all times. Mashed hot peppers with a little salt, maybe a touch of vinegar or lime juice added. Rather than making it yourself, simply purchase a jar of it in C'town or the Tenderloin, and stick it in your refrigerator. It is surprising how fast it disappears;
I think the raccoons are stealing it.
If you plan on visiting England it might be wise to actually make some of it yourself to pack in your carry-on luggage: fresh habaneros, ground toasted dried Thai birdseyes or chile d'arbol for a bit of bulk, salt, vinegar, and oil. The last three in equal measure, just enough to make it smooee, but not gloppy. The salt and vinegar will preserve it for at least several weeks, and the inclusion of habanero makes it hot enough that your hosts may not even notice that you slipped a tiny little smear onto your plate to assist you in downing their fine cuisine.
慢慢食 ('maan maan sik': bon gusto).
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, January 12, 2014
MAKING CHEUNG FAN
Cheung fan (腸粉) are soft fresh sheets of rice flour batter steamed till set with a little filling - shrimp, beef, pork, or whatever - then folded over, drizzled with a soy sauce, and minced scallion on top to garnish.
Usually they are slashed or cut when served, to allow any condiments you add to penetrate, and for ease of chopsticking.
In commercial establishments, a wet sheet of cloth is tightly stretched over a rectangular steamer, then rice flour batter is ladled on and smeared flat, a little bit of filling material is strewn over one side, and within mere moments the cloth is lifted with the now cooked noodle sheet on it, and another cloth put in place. Meanwhile a deft hand with a spatula separates the cheung fan, dexterously jiggling it into a loosely folded wedge or roll.
At home you do not have a large rectangular vat of fiercely boiling water with a perforated metal plate on top.
But you have a steamer.
So what you can do is use pie pans instead of taught wetted cloth, either lightly oiled or with a little Pam sprayed on. The steaming time is a little longer, because your cheung fan will be thicker. And instead of nice sharp-edged rectangular rolls, yours will be a little thicker around the middle.
Salad plates in lieu of pie pans will also do - the result will be cute little cheung fan which are quite suitable as a mid-day snack.
CHEUNG FAN: BATTER
One cup plain rice flour.
Quarter cup tapioca flour.
Two TBS cornstarch.
Two TBS oil.
Half a teaspoon salt.
Cold water.
Sift dry ingredients together. Slowly stir water into it, add the oil, and keep adding more water while stirring till you have a batter that looks like heavy cream - approximately 1¾ to 2¼ cups water in all. Let it stand an hour, re-stir.
It is now ready for use.
Grease a pie pan, ladle in enough batter to thinly cover the bottom, and place in the steamer. After about a minute to a minute and a half, add the filling along one side. Steam for another four to six minutes, depending on how thick your layers are. Remove the pie pan from the steamer, and prepare a second pan while the first one cools.
As soon as you have added a filling to the second cheung fan, separate the first one from its pan with a flexible spatula, rolling as you go. Proceed in this manner till all the batter is used up. There should be about eight or nine cheung fan stacked on the plate when you're done. Drizzle a little sesame oil over for fragrance, slash into segments to show the filling, and garnish with minced scallion.
CHEUNG FAN: FILLING
You can us thin slivers of of beef (remember to rinse a bit, or soak in a little rice wine briefly to remove that charnel-house fragrance that adheres to the meat), or very fresh shrimp, peeled and veined, or even minced fresh cilantro, which will lend a soft fruity-herby-floral tone to the noodly sheets.
Chopped char-siu or rehumidified dry shrimp are also common.
炒粿條
If you make the cheung fan without any filling, they can be sliced into broad strips and served with ripped roast chicken and vegetables, or stirfried in pork fat with oysters and shrimp, like kway teow. Add some beansprouts (芽菜 ngaa choi、豆芽 dau ngaa) and scallion or chives, plus a drizzle of soy sauce, and serve with sambal on the side.
NOTE: this is a "reprint" of a recipe from two years ago, in this post:
LEFT-OVER TURKEY: CHEUNG FAN, RICE FLOUR NOODLES IN SOUP, AND JOOK.
Some people asked for it.
So here it is.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Usually they are slashed or cut when served, to allow any condiments you add to penetrate, and for ease of chopsticking.
In commercial establishments, a wet sheet of cloth is tightly stretched over a rectangular steamer, then rice flour batter is ladled on and smeared flat, a little bit of filling material is strewn over one side, and within mere moments the cloth is lifted with the now cooked noodle sheet on it, and another cloth put in place. Meanwhile a deft hand with a spatula separates the cheung fan, dexterously jiggling it into a loosely folded wedge or roll.
At home you do not have a large rectangular vat of fiercely boiling water with a perforated metal plate on top.
But you have a steamer.
So what you can do is use pie pans instead of taught wetted cloth, either lightly oiled or with a little Pam sprayed on. The steaming time is a little longer, because your cheung fan will be thicker. And instead of nice sharp-edged rectangular rolls, yours will be a little thicker around the middle.
Salad plates in lieu of pie pans will also do - the result will be cute little cheung fan which are quite suitable as a mid-day snack.
CHEUNG FAN: BATTER
One cup plain rice flour.
Quarter cup tapioca flour.
Two TBS cornstarch.
Two TBS oil.
Half a teaspoon salt.
Cold water.
Sift dry ingredients together. Slowly stir water into it, add the oil, and keep adding more water while stirring till you have a batter that looks like heavy cream - approximately 1¾ to 2¼ cups water in all. Let it stand an hour, re-stir.
It is now ready for use.
Grease a pie pan, ladle in enough batter to thinly cover the bottom, and place in the steamer. After about a minute to a minute and a half, add the filling along one side. Steam for another four to six minutes, depending on how thick your layers are. Remove the pie pan from the steamer, and prepare a second pan while the first one cools.
As soon as you have added a filling to the second cheung fan, separate the first one from its pan with a flexible spatula, rolling as you go. Proceed in this manner till all the batter is used up. There should be about eight or nine cheung fan stacked on the plate when you're done. Drizzle a little sesame oil over for fragrance, slash into segments to show the filling, and garnish with minced scallion.
CHEUNG FAN: FILLING
You can us thin slivers of of beef (remember to rinse a bit, or soak in a little rice wine briefly to remove that charnel-house fragrance that adheres to the meat), or very fresh shrimp, peeled and veined, or even minced fresh cilantro, which will lend a soft fruity-herby-floral tone to the noodly sheets.
Chopped char-siu or rehumidified dry shrimp are also common.
炒粿條
If you make the cheung fan without any filling, they can be sliced into broad strips and served with ripped roast chicken and vegetables, or stirfried in pork fat with oysters and shrimp, like kway teow. Add some beansprouts (芽菜 ngaa choi、豆芽 dau ngaa) and scallion or chives, plus a drizzle of soy sauce, and serve with sambal on the side.
NOTE: this is a "reprint" of a recipe from two years ago, in this post:
LEFT-OVER TURKEY: CHEUNG FAN, RICE FLOUR NOODLES IN SOUP, AND JOOK.
Some people asked for it.
So here it is.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, January 07, 2014
CANTONESE INGREDIENTS: A SHORT LIST OF ESSENTIALS
When a Cantonese person yearns for Chinese food, there is a very great chance that he or she is NOT thinking of the stuff most people associate with Cantonese restaurants. By the same token, the tourists walking down Stockton Street and marveling at the various comestibles being sold there won't consider purchasing those queer ingredients, because while they have eaten at Chinese restaurants, they've never actually tasted any of those items.
At least not deliberately and consciously; many white people just don't associate such things with food.
Yet to a Cantonese person, these substances are the hallmark of their cuisine, and all of them are familiar presences in the larder. They are absolutely essential. It is what makes a Chinatown foodstore a must-visit destination.
Like Belgian food, Cantonese cuisine is marked by the freshness of the main ingredients. But the crisp tastes will be extended or augmented with substances that your Walloon or Fleming will probably not know.
THE CANTONESE LARDER
蠔油 hou yau: Oyster sauce.
A condensed extractive of oysters with starch and soy sauce, used to dollop over freshly cooked vegetables, or as an ingredient in stir-fry sauces with splashes of rice wine and superior stock. According to a commercial which ran on the Chinese channel back in the nineties, it's essential on your fried eggs or steak. Probably also good with French Fries, and I'll have to try that one of these days.
鹹蝦醬 haahm haa jeung: Shrimp paste.
A gloop composed of ground fully fermented salted shrimp, which is used in small amounts to add a savoury briny flavour to many vegetable dishes, but is also excellent if you are cooking fatty pork chunks.
Add shredded ginger and perhaps a sliced hot chili before putting the dish in the steamer.
乾貝、江瑤柱 gon pui, gong yiu chü: dried scallops.
These are soaked before adding to soups, stews, or rice porridge. Excellent, and quite nutritious. They increase flavour.
腐乳 fu yü: fermented tofu.
Seldom eaten by itself, but often used as a rub on meats prior to roasting. The flavour is hard to describe, though some people have claimed to detect a cheesy quality. Fatty meats especially benefit.
豆豉 dau si: salted black beans.
Usually available in a cardboard canister. Moistened and partially mashed before adding to stir fries or steamed dishes. You probably are familiar with this, but it's worth your while to acquire the basic 'raw' product in C'town, rather than spending six bucks for a bottled product that promises "authentic Chinese taste" at a gourmet yuppie market.
It's a lot cheaper, and it keeps nearly forever.
臘腸 laap cheung: sausage.
Varies types are available, including versions with liver and duck. The most common type is simply chopped fatty pork in a narrow casing. A few slices with your eggs, or scattered into a simple stirfry or stew, or just dumped in the rice before steaming. Not a lot is used at one time.
Contributes a lovely porky-winy aroma.
鹹魚 haam yü: salt fish.
There are various kinds available. Some types are first sautéed, then simmered with other ingredients to make a stock (such as in Won Ton Soup), others are soaked and steamed to eat with rice, and some are condimental, meaning that they are either cut into thick slivers or slices, or crushed and soaked, before being added in small dosage to dishes during preparation.
Steamed pork patty with salt fish (鹹魚蒸肉餅 haam yü jing yiuk beng) is a classic. Three to five thick slivers arranged on top of flattened ground pork, with finely slivered ginger, steamed for ten minutes. Delicious! It's also good with eggplant, or various squashes and gourds.
臘肉 laap yiuk: preserved meat.
Most often the kind encountered is belly pork, with soy sauce, wine, and nitrates added as preserving agents, partially dried. Flattened duck is in the same category, as are some other items. Cut it into chunks and steam it with your rice, or experiment by adding small quantities to vegetable dishes. It's more than just a flavouring, it's "added value".
鹹蛋 haam daan: salted eggs.
Duck eggs soaked first in brine, then packed in charcoal sludge and aged. These must be steamed before use. A combination I particularly like, which can be considered a heart attack on a plate, is steamed fatty pork chunks combined with the whole yolks. So deadly, but so good.
皮蛋、松花蛋 pei daan, song faa daan: "skin eggs".
Dark-hued preserved eggs, which have been cured by covering them in wood ash, clay, quicklime, and dried rice chaff, then stored for several months. The alkalinity of the packing sludge eventually changes them considerably. They can be eaten as is, but are frequently added to tofu, or steamed with beaten fresh eggs, or even combined with vegetables and meat. Very commonly used to make preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge (皮蛋瘦肉粥 pei daan sau yiuk juk), which is wonderful comfort food.
酸菜 suen choi: pickled cabbage.
No, this isn't similar to kimchi. The vegetable is first briefly blanched, then packed into brine with a heavy weight on top. It can be eaten raw after fermentation, but is most often paired with fatty meats. Stirfried pork and suen choi, for instance, or noodles with suen choi and pork shreds. Many possibilities. It adds a sourish note to dishes in which it is combined with other ingredients.
蝦米 haa mei: dried shrimp.
Soaked before use, added in small quantities to steamed or stewed vegetable dishes. It's just a minor amount of protein, but contributes a pleasant seafoody touch. Dried shrimp can also be briefly roasted then added to stock to up the flavour.
梅菜 mui choy: plum flower salt vegetable.
The absolutely essential ingredient when making steamed streaky pork with salted cabbage (梅菜扣肉 mui choi kau yiuk). Hawaiians know this as 'kau yoke'. It is usually available in small cans. Drain, rinse, and parch before adding it to stews. Do not use a whole heck of a lot.
Other things with which you are undoubtedly already familiar are soy sauce, vinegar, and chili paste. Rice wine OR sherry are likewise essential, and a tiny pinch of sugar added to many dishes makes a surprising difference.
Also buy five-spice powder.
咸魚蒸肉餅 HAAM YÜ JING YIUK BENG
One pound ground pork.
One TBS cornstarch.
Half TBS soy sauce.
Half TBS sherry or rice wine.
Half TBS cooking oil.
A little ginger, minced fine.
Pinch of ground white pepper.
Pinch of sugar.
ALSO: Three to five quarter inch thick slices of salt fish, soaked to soften.
Mix everything except the salt fish and ginger together, and let this stand twenty to thirty minutes. Then flatten it onto an oiled plate, arrange the salt fish on top, and add the ginger. Steam until done, about ten minutes or so.
Dump some cilantro over it, and serve.
You can cut it, but usually diners simply break off pieces with their chopsticks or a serving spoon.
With plain white rice, a small bowl of clear meat and vegetable broth, and one or two simply cooked vegetable dishes, this is a very satisfying and extremely Cantonese home style meal.
Than which there is little finer.
NOTE: the clickable label 「真好食」 underneath this post will bring up a whole collection of essays about Chinese food. The label 「菜譜」pulls up recipes. If you have any comments, feedback, or corrections to suggest, I would love to hear from you.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
At least not deliberately and consciously; many white people just don't associate such things with food.
Yet to a Cantonese person, these substances are the hallmark of their cuisine, and all of them are familiar presences in the larder. They are absolutely essential. It is what makes a Chinatown foodstore a must-visit destination.
Like Belgian food, Cantonese cuisine is marked by the freshness of the main ingredients. But the crisp tastes will be extended or augmented with substances that your Walloon or Fleming will probably not know.
THE CANTONESE LARDER
蠔油 hou yau: Oyster sauce.
A condensed extractive of oysters with starch and soy sauce, used to dollop over freshly cooked vegetables, or as an ingredient in stir-fry sauces with splashes of rice wine and superior stock. According to a commercial which ran on the Chinese channel back in the nineties, it's essential on your fried eggs or steak. Probably also good with French Fries, and I'll have to try that one of these days.
鹹蝦醬 haahm haa jeung: Shrimp paste.
A gloop composed of ground fully fermented salted shrimp, which is used in small amounts to add a savoury briny flavour to many vegetable dishes, but is also excellent if you are cooking fatty pork chunks.
Add shredded ginger and perhaps a sliced hot chili before putting the dish in the steamer.
乾貝、江瑤柱 gon pui, gong yiu chü: dried scallops.
These are soaked before adding to soups, stews, or rice porridge. Excellent, and quite nutritious. They increase flavour.
腐乳 fu yü: fermented tofu.
Seldom eaten by itself, but often used as a rub on meats prior to roasting. The flavour is hard to describe, though some people have claimed to detect a cheesy quality. Fatty meats especially benefit.
豆豉 dau si: salted black beans.
Usually available in a cardboard canister. Moistened and partially mashed before adding to stir fries or steamed dishes. You probably are familiar with this, but it's worth your while to acquire the basic 'raw' product in C'town, rather than spending six bucks for a bottled product that promises "authentic Chinese taste" at a gourmet yuppie market.
It's a lot cheaper, and it keeps nearly forever.
臘腸 laap cheung: sausage.
Varies types are available, including versions with liver and duck. The most common type is simply chopped fatty pork in a narrow casing. A few slices with your eggs, or scattered into a simple stirfry or stew, or just dumped in the rice before steaming. Not a lot is used at one time.
Contributes a lovely porky-winy aroma.
鹹魚 haam yü: salt fish.
There are various kinds available. Some types are first sautéed, then simmered with other ingredients to make a stock (such as in Won Ton Soup), others are soaked and steamed to eat with rice, and some are condimental, meaning that they are either cut into thick slivers or slices, or crushed and soaked, before being added in small dosage to dishes during preparation.
Steamed pork patty with salt fish (鹹魚蒸肉餅 haam yü jing yiuk beng) is a classic. Three to five thick slivers arranged on top of flattened ground pork, with finely slivered ginger, steamed for ten minutes. Delicious! It's also good with eggplant, or various squashes and gourds.
臘肉 laap yiuk: preserved meat.
Most often the kind encountered is belly pork, with soy sauce, wine, and nitrates added as preserving agents, partially dried. Flattened duck is in the same category, as are some other items. Cut it into chunks and steam it with your rice, or experiment by adding small quantities to vegetable dishes. It's more than just a flavouring, it's "added value".
鹹蛋 haam daan: salted eggs.
Duck eggs soaked first in brine, then packed in charcoal sludge and aged. These must be steamed before use. A combination I particularly like, which can be considered a heart attack on a plate, is steamed fatty pork chunks combined with the whole yolks. So deadly, but so good.
皮蛋、松花蛋 pei daan, song faa daan: "skin eggs".
Dark-hued preserved eggs, which have been cured by covering them in wood ash, clay, quicklime, and dried rice chaff, then stored for several months. The alkalinity of the packing sludge eventually changes them considerably. They can be eaten as is, but are frequently added to tofu, or steamed with beaten fresh eggs, or even combined with vegetables and meat. Very commonly used to make preserved egg and lean pork rice porridge (皮蛋瘦肉粥 pei daan sau yiuk juk), which is wonderful comfort food.
酸菜 suen choi: pickled cabbage.
No, this isn't similar to kimchi. The vegetable is first briefly blanched, then packed into brine with a heavy weight on top. It can be eaten raw after fermentation, but is most often paired with fatty meats. Stirfried pork and suen choi, for instance, or noodles with suen choi and pork shreds. Many possibilities. It adds a sourish note to dishes in which it is combined with other ingredients.
蝦米 haa mei: dried shrimp.
Soaked before use, added in small quantities to steamed or stewed vegetable dishes. It's just a minor amount of protein, but contributes a pleasant seafoody touch. Dried shrimp can also be briefly roasted then added to stock to up the flavour.
梅菜 mui choy: plum flower salt vegetable.
The absolutely essential ingredient when making steamed streaky pork with salted cabbage (梅菜扣肉 mui choi kau yiuk). Hawaiians know this as 'kau yoke'. It is usually available in small cans. Drain, rinse, and parch before adding it to stews. Do not use a whole heck of a lot.
Other things with which you are undoubtedly already familiar are soy sauce, vinegar, and chili paste. Rice wine OR sherry are likewise essential, and a tiny pinch of sugar added to many dishes makes a surprising difference.
Also buy five-spice powder.
咸魚蒸肉餅 HAAM YÜ JING YIUK BENG
One pound ground pork.
One TBS cornstarch.
Half TBS soy sauce.
Half TBS sherry or rice wine.
Half TBS cooking oil.
A little ginger, minced fine.
Pinch of ground white pepper.
Pinch of sugar.
ALSO: Three to five quarter inch thick slices of salt fish, soaked to soften.
Mix everything except the salt fish and ginger together, and let this stand twenty to thirty minutes. Then flatten it onto an oiled plate, arrange the salt fish on top, and add the ginger. Steam until done, about ten minutes or so.
Dump some cilantro over it, and serve.
You can cut it, but usually diners simply break off pieces with their chopsticks or a serving spoon.
With plain white rice, a small bowl of clear meat and vegetable broth, and one or two simply cooked vegetable dishes, this is a very satisfying and extremely Cantonese home style meal.
Than which there is little finer.
NOTE: the clickable label 「真好食」 underneath this post will bring up a whole collection of essays about Chinese food. The label 「菜譜」pulls up recipes. If you have any comments, feedback, or corrections to suggest, I would love to hear from you.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
SOMETHING OTHER THAN THE GOBBLING THING
This year you might want an alternative to roast turkey for your feast. Either because you've finally realized that turkeys are sensitive animals with souls, and mommies who love them, or because you are sick and tired of meat that doesn't have the wit to be either gamy or flavourful.
Try chicken or duck instead.
桶子油雞
BUCKET CHICKEN
老公雞: 1隻 (one old cock, around three pounds).
薑: 2或3片 (two or three thick slices of ginger).
葱: 2或3條 (two or three scallion).
八角: 5或6粒 (five or six whole star anise).
陳皮: 半個 (half a dried tangerine peel).
糖: 5両 (about one cup cane sugar, slightly less).
豉油: 3盃 (three cups soy sauce).
黄酒: 1盃 (one cup sherry or rice wine).
水: 3盃 (three cups water).
Blanch chicken, rinse and drain.
Put a bamboo rack in the bottom of a soup pot (to keep the bird from sticking), add all flavourings and liquids, and bring to a boil. Put the chicken in the pot, simmer roughly half an hour, turning as appropriate and pouring the hot broth into the cavity. Remove the bird from the pot and brush with oil to make it shiny.
Let it cool a bit.
Chop into large pieces and arrange on a platter.
Splash some of the cooking liquid over to serve.
The term bucket chicken originated with street vendors..
建力士燒鴨
GUINNESS BRAISED DUCK
鴨子: 1隻，重约3或4斤 (one duck, roughly 4½ to 5 Lbs).
葱: 8條 (eight scallion).
薑: 數片 (a few slices of ginger).
糖: 2湯匙 (two TBS sugar).
鹽: 1茶匙 (one Tsp. salt).
水: 適量 (a suitable amount of water).
生粉: ½湯匙，同水1湯匙 (half a TBS cornstarch, mixed with a little water).
建力士啤酒 (司陶特啤酒): 1樽 [2盃] (one bottle Guinness Stout = 2 cups).
Wash and trim the duck. Cook in boiling water for five minutes. Remove and drain. Chop it into large pieces.
Sautée scallion and ginger, add duck pieces and a splash of stout.
Stir to coat and fragrantize.
Decant to a stew pot, add everything except the sugar and cornstarch.
Simmer for an hour or so.
Stir in sugar and cornstarch, and once it thickens, serve.
You could also use Chimay Red or Grande Réserve, instead of the Guinness, and omit the sugar. You might then call it 希邁燒鴨。
Note: this started off several years ago as 客家式紅糟鴨。 But I'm too lazy to look for 紅糟, which except for the quarter cup needed in the original recipe would likely never be used again.
I remember the jar of 紅南乳, which sat in the fridge for over a year.
Guinness, on the other hand .......
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Try chicken or duck instead.
桶子油雞
BUCKET CHICKEN
老公雞: 1隻 (one old cock, around three pounds).
薑: 2或3片 (two or three thick slices of ginger).
葱: 2或3條 (two or three scallion).
八角: 5或6粒 (five or six whole star anise).
陳皮: 半個 (half a dried tangerine peel).
糖: 5両 (about one cup cane sugar, slightly less).
豉油: 3盃 (three cups soy sauce).
黄酒: 1盃 (one cup sherry or rice wine).
水: 3盃 (three cups water).
Blanch chicken, rinse and drain.
Put a bamboo rack in the bottom of a soup pot (to keep the bird from sticking), add all flavourings and liquids, and bring to a boil. Put the chicken in the pot, simmer roughly half an hour, turning as appropriate and pouring the hot broth into the cavity. Remove the bird from the pot and brush with oil to make it shiny.
Let it cool a bit.
Chop into large pieces and arrange on a platter.
Splash some of the cooking liquid over to serve.
The term bucket chicken originated with street vendors..
建力士燒鴨
GUINNESS BRAISED DUCK
鴨子: 1隻，重约3或4斤 (one duck, roughly 4½ to 5 Lbs).
葱: 8條 (eight scallion).
薑: 數片 (a few slices of ginger).
糖: 2湯匙 (two TBS sugar).
鹽: 1茶匙 (one Tsp. salt).
水: 適量 (a suitable amount of water).
生粉: ½湯匙，同水1湯匙 (half a TBS cornstarch, mixed with a little water).
建力士啤酒 (司陶特啤酒): 1樽 [2盃] (one bottle Guinness Stout = 2 cups).
Wash and trim the duck. Cook in boiling water for five minutes. Remove and drain. Chop it into large pieces.
Sautée scallion and ginger, add duck pieces and a splash of stout.
Stir to coat and fragrantize.
Decant to a stew pot, add everything except the sugar and cornstarch.
Simmer for an hour or so.
Stir in sugar and cornstarch, and once it thickens, serve.
You could also use Chimay Red or Grande Réserve, instead of the Guinness, and omit the sugar. You might then call it 希邁燒鴨。
Note: this started off several years ago as 客家式紅糟鴨。 But I'm too lazy to look for 紅糟, which except for the quarter cup needed in the original recipe would likely never be used again.
I remember the jar of 紅南乳, which sat in the fridge for over a year.
Guinness, on the other hand .......
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, November 16, 2013
CANTONESE FOOD, DUTCH UNCLE, AND IMPRESSING THAT BLONDE CHICK I'VE SEEN YOU WITH
"Man", he said, "those look like muck -- where did you find such lapsap recipes!" Apparently the idea of sweet soups enjoyed as 'refreshement' or dessert did not appeal to him.
We were discussing the two items mentioned in a previous post ('Sweet Times Two'), and he was happily slagging pretty much everything he had ever eaten at home.
In addition to my recipes.
Well, despite his impeccably southern Chinese ancestry, he is a total Yank. Some Cantonese things just aren't very appealing to someone with extremely white sensibilities.
Bananas, for instance.
MORE CANTONESE HOME COOKING WITH A SNARKY KWAILO
So, to continue pushing the envelope, in the inevitably to be frustrated hope that now that he's living by himself he'll eventually start cooking (instead of ordering food to go from the nearest pizza place), and will finally expand his tastes beyond beefsteak, spam, and tuna in a can, here are TWO MORE recipes.
I think they're quite delicious.
Because they actually are.
肉茸銀耳羹
Pork shreds and snow fungus soup
材料 Ingredients:
瘦豬肉: 3両 (four ounces lean pork)。
乾雪耳: 1両 (one and a third ounce dried snow fungus)。
雞蛋白: 1隻, 拂勻 (one egg white, whisked)。
薑: 1片 (one slice ginger)。
上湯: 4盃 (four cups stock: 1斤10兩)。
生粉: 3湯匙 (three TBS cornstarch)。
水: 4湯匙 (four TBS water)。
糖: ¼茶匙 (quarter Tsp. sugar)。
鹽: ⅛茶匙 (eighth Tsp. salt)。
胡椒粉: 少許 (a pinch of white pepper)。
麻油: 點點 (a dash of sesame oil)。
製法 / 做法 Jai faat / Joh faat:
Wash pork, dry, mince. Mix with half a TBS of the cornflour and a generous splash of the stock, let it stand.
Soak snow fungus for an hour or so, then boil it for five minutes, take it out and rinse it under cold. Chop it semi-coarse.
Mix the rest of the cornstarch with the four tablespoons water.
Put the remaining stock in a pot with the snow fungus, ginger, salt, and sugar. Bring to a boil, simmer for several minutes before adding the pork, then when it boils up again stir in the cornstarch mixed with water to velvetize it. While stirring, drizzle in the egg white. Add the pepper and sesame oil, and decant to a suitable tureen.
椰汁香芋南瓜雞
Chicken, pumpkin, and taro with coconut milk.
材料 Ingredients:
雞: 半隻, 斬/切五,六塊 (half a chicken, cut into five or six chunks)。
芋頭: 3両 (four ounces taro, peeled and chunked)。
南瓜: 3両 (four ounces pumpkin, peeled and chunked)。
冬菇: 5隻, 切片 (five black mushrooms, sliced)。
芹菜: 2條, 切段 (two stalks celery, coarsely cut)。
葱頭: 1顆, 切成 (one onion, chopped)。
葱: 1粒, 切成 (one scallion, chopped)。
椰汁: 8湯匙 (eight TBS coconut milk)。
上湯: 少許 (small quantity superior stock)。
生粉: 少許 (small quantity cornstarch)。
製法 / 做法 Jai faat / Joh faat:
Rinse the chicken, rub it with a little cornstarch and set is aside.
Gild the taro and pumpkin separately in oil, set aside.
Quick fry the onion till fragrance rises, add the celery and stirfry, add the mushroom and chicken pieces and turn to coat and incorporate. Splash liberally with the superior stock, add the taro, then add the coconut milk and the pumpkin. Let it simmer for about five to ten minutes, and strew the chopped scallion over ere serving.
[Note added 11-18-2013: For presentation purposes, the chicken - coconut dish can be served in a heated clay pot (煲仔 po-chai). It will taste slightly better, and clay pots (on a suitable protective pad) also add considerably to the gemütlichkeit of a cosy shared meal.]
For the im-purist, go ahead and add bacon.
I know you really want to.
Both dishes.
Both of these, with some simple tasty stirfried vegetables, and a bottle of good white wine, will be sufficient for you and your date, and make the girl you are trying to woo quite a happy camper.
Which could be a mighty good thing.
Assuming, of course, that she likes food.
其實好簡單嘅, 不過係配飯嘅好菜！
Although, given your lamentable praedilection for canned tuna, some of her judgment might be a little off. Or even a lot.
That, too, can be a good thing.
Just trying to help.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
We were discussing the two items mentioned in a previous post ('Sweet Times Two'), and he was happily slagging pretty much everything he had ever eaten at home.
In addition to my recipes.
Well, despite his impeccably southern Chinese ancestry, he is a total Yank. Some Cantonese things just aren't very appealing to someone with extremely white sensibilities.
Bananas, for instance.
MORE CANTONESE HOME COOKING WITH A SNARKY KWAILO
So, to continue pushing the envelope, in the inevitably to be frustrated hope that now that he's living by himself he'll eventually start cooking (instead of ordering food to go from the nearest pizza place), and will finally expand his tastes beyond beefsteak, spam, and tuna in a can, here are TWO MORE recipes.
I think they're quite delicious.
Because they actually are.
肉茸銀耳羹
Pork shreds and snow fungus soup
材料 Ingredients:
瘦豬肉: 3両 (four ounces lean pork)。
乾雪耳: 1両 (one and a third ounce dried snow fungus)。
雞蛋白: 1隻, 拂勻 (one egg white, whisked)。
薑: 1片 (one slice ginger)。
上湯: 4盃 (four cups stock: 1斤10兩)。
生粉: 3湯匙 (three TBS cornstarch)。
水: 4湯匙 (four TBS water)。
糖: ¼茶匙 (quarter Tsp. sugar)。
鹽: ⅛茶匙 (eighth Tsp. salt)。
胡椒粉: 少許 (a pinch of white pepper)。
麻油: 點點 (a dash of sesame oil)。
製法 / 做法 Jai faat / Joh faat:
Wash pork, dry, mince. Mix with half a TBS of the cornflour and a generous splash of the stock, let it stand.
Soak snow fungus for an hour or so, then boil it for five minutes, take it out and rinse it under cold. Chop it semi-coarse.
Mix the rest of the cornstarch with the four tablespoons water.
Put the remaining stock in a pot with the snow fungus, ginger, salt, and sugar. Bring to a boil, simmer for several minutes before adding the pork, then when it boils up again stir in the cornstarch mixed with water to velvetize it. While stirring, drizzle in the egg white. Add the pepper and sesame oil, and decant to a suitable tureen.
椰汁香芋南瓜雞
Chicken, pumpkin, and taro with coconut milk.
材料 Ingredients:
雞: 半隻, 斬/切五,六塊 (half a chicken, cut into five or six chunks)。
芋頭: 3両 (four ounces taro, peeled and chunked)。
南瓜: 3両 (four ounces pumpkin, peeled and chunked)。
冬菇: 5隻, 切片 (five black mushrooms, sliced)。
芹菜: 2條, 切段 (two stalks celery, coarsely cut)。
葱頭: 1顆, 切成 (one onion, chopped)。
葱: 1粒, 切成 (one scallion, chopped)。
椰汁: 8湯匙 (eight TBS coconut milk)。
上湯: 少許 (small quantity superior stock)。
生粉: 少許 (small quantity cornstarch)。
製法 / 做法 Jai faat / Joh faat:
Rinse the chicken, rub it with a little cornstarch and set is aside.
Gild the taro and pumpkin separately in oil, set aside.
Quick fry the onion till fragrance rises, add the celery and stirfry, add the mushroom and chicken pieces and turn to coat and incorporate. Splash liberally with the superior stock, add the taro, then add the coconut milk and the pumpkin. Let it simmer for about five to ten minutes, and strew the chopped scallion over ere serving.
[Note added 11-18-2013: For presentation purposes, the chicken - coconut dish can be served in a heated clay pot (煲仔 po-chai). It will taste slightly better, and clay pots (on a suitable protective pad) also add considerably to the gemütlichkeit of a cosy shared meal.]
For the im-purist, go ahead and add bacon.
I know you really want to.
Both dishes.
Both of these, with some simple tasty stirfried vegetables, and a bottle of good white wine, will be sufficient for you and your date, and make the girl you are trying to woo quite a happy camper.
Which could be a mighty good thing.
Assuming, of course, that she likes food.
其實好簡單嘅, 不過係配飯嘅好菜！
Although, given your lamentable praedilection for canned tuna, some of her judgment might be a little off. Or even a lot.
That, too, can be a good thing.
Just trying to help.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, November 08, 2013
SWEET TIMES TWO: CANTONESE SOUP
Pursuant a recent description of herbal muck (Chinese medicine) which my FORMER significant other is drinking because of an eye-lid condition, as well as previous mentions of Cantonese tonifying soups, a reader who knows me in the real world asked: "are ALL their soups nasty?"
He's had hot and sour soup, but he knows that that is a northern Chinese item. Cantonese soups, in his limited experience, have not been an unalloyed blessing.
Given that his exposure has been via his mom, that isn't surprising. Many Cantonese kids grow up with the grimly snarled admonition "drink it, it's good for you, tonifies the whatever it is!"
By which their mother or auntie means "I really have no clue what this does, but I learned how to make it long ago, and your uncle Stinky Feet (老臭脚 'lou chau keuk') lived to be ninety!"
The healthful benefits of the broth and Stinky Feet's longevity may not be connected. But there's tonic stuff in the bowl, and it combats either yit hei (热氣) or leung hei (凉热), both of which are harmful in excess.
So suck it up, little mosquito.
I did; look at me.
Healthy!
The answer to his query is no. No, not all of their soups are nasty. Chicken broth with watercress (西洋菜湯) is very nice. Egg drop soup (蛋花湯) is nice. Short ribs, corn, and chunked carrot (粟米排骨羹) in broth is nice.
Pickled mustard and lean pork noodles (酸菜豬肉粉湯) also.
And many others. You need to get out more.
Also nice are some of the stranger things from an American standpoint, like the refreshing soups that are between dessert and a wonderful comforting drink. Wondrous, and warm. And sweet.
Sweet!
I've had these two recipes for many years, and I make them occasionally, when I feel the need for an extra bit of health.
番薯薏米湯
Faan-shyu yi-mai tong: Sweet potato and pearl barley soup
番薯: 4兩 (four tael sweet potato, cubed)。
片糖: 4兩 (four tael jaggery or gur)。
洋薏米: 1兩 (one tael pearl barley)。
薑: 1 片 (one thick slice ginger)。
清水: 4盃 (four cups water: 1斤10兩)。
Bring water, sugar, and ginger to a boil. Add the cubed sweet potato, cook for fifteen minutes.
Add the pearl barley, cook five minutes more.
Let cool slightly before serving.
補脾，補肺，有驅寒之功效。
[Good for the spleen and lungs, beneficial in cold weather.]
核桃湯
Hat-tou tong: Walnut soup
桃仁: 5兩 (five tael shelled walnuts)。
砂糖: 5兩 (five tael cane sugar)。
粟米粉: 2湯匙 (two TBS cornstarch)。
清水: 4盃 (four cups water: 1斤10兩)。
Blanch the walnuts briefly to loosen the skins adhering to the flesh. Spread out to dry.
Fry walnuts lightly in hot oil till pale golden, remove and drain.
Mix cornstarch smooth with some of the water.
Put the walnuts and the remaining water in a blender and whir till smooth entirely, then pour through a fine sieve or cheesecloth into a saucepan. Cook for several minutes before adding the sugar.
Stir to dissolve the sugar, and cook a little longer. Blend in the cornstarch to thicken the soup and make it velvety.
Let cool slightly before serving.
補腦，補腎也。
[Good for the brain and kidneys.]
One tael (兩 leung) is one-and-a-third ounce, though nowadays metrified as fifty grammes. There are ten mace (錢 chien) in a tael, sixteen tael in a catty (斤 gan).
Two tablespoons of cornstarch are equivalent to one-and-a-half tael, ergo there are four teaspoons in one tael of cornstarch.
[From notations elsewhere: One cup sugar is 192 grammes, one tablespoon is 12 grammes, one teaspoon is four grammes. And one 兩 or 两 (leung) equals 37¾ grammes ~ 1.3 oz. So four tael sugar is the same as 4.3 oz., or approximately 150 grammes, 12½ tablespoons. Eh, ¾ cup.
Five tael would be exactly 190 grammes, or nearly sixteen tablespoons of sugar.]
Rather than being overly precise and neurotic about the exact weights and volumes, just wing it. You'll figure out what works for you soon enough.
I did; look at me.
Healthy!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Given that his exposure has been via his mom, that isn't surprising. Many Cantonese kids grow up with the grimly snarled admonition "drink it, it's good for you, tonifies the whatever it is!"
By which their mother or auntie means "I really have no clue what this does, but I learned how to make it long ago, and your uncle Stinky Feet (老臭脚 'lou chau keuk') lived to be ninety!"
The healthful benefits of the broth and Stinky Feet's longevity may not be connected. But there's tonic stuff in the bowl, and it combats either yit hei (热氣) or leung hei (凉热), both of which are harmful in excess.
So suck it up, little mosquito.
I did; look at me.
Healthy!
The answer to his query is no. No, not all of their soups are nasty. Chicken broth with watercress (西洋菜湯) is very nice. Egg drop soup (蛋花湯) is nice. Short ribs, corn, and chunked carrot (粟米排骨羹) in broth is nice.
Pickled mustard and lean pork noodles (酸菜豬肉粉湯) also.
And many others. You need to get out more.
Also nice are some of the stranger things from an American standpoint, like the refreshing soups that are between dessert and a wonderful comforting drink. Wondrous, and warm. And sweet.
Sweet!
I've had these two recipes for many years, and I make them occasionally, when I feel the need for an extra bit of health.
番薯薏米湯
Faan-shyu yi-mai tong: Sweet potato and pearl barley soup
番薯: 4兩 (four tael sweet potato, cubed)。
片糖: 4兩 (four tael jaggery or gur)。
洋薏米: 1兩 (one tael pearl barley)。
薑: 1 片 (one thick slice ginger)。
清水: 4盃 (four cups water: 1斤10兩)。
Bring water, sugar, and ginger to a boil. Add the cubed sweet potato, cook for fifteen minutes.
Add the pearl barley, cook five minutes more.
Let cool slightly before serving.
補脾，補肺，有驅寒之功效。
[Good for the spleen and lungs, beneficial in cold weather.]
核桃湯
Hat-tou tong: Walnut soup
桃仁: 5兩 (five tael shelled walnuts)。
砂糖: 5兩 (five tael cane sugar)。
粟米粉: 2湯匙 (two TBS cornstarch)。
清水: 4盃 (four cups water: 1斤10兩)。
Blanch the walnuts briefly to loosen the skins adhering to the flesh. Spread out to dry.
Fry walnuts lightly in hot oil till pale golden, remove and drain.
Mix cornstarch smooth with some of the water.
Put the walnuts and the remaining water in a blender and whir till smooth entirely, then pour through a fine sieve or cheesecloth into a saucepan. Cook for several minutes before adding the sugar.
Stir to dissolve the sugar, and cook a little longer. Blend in the cornstarch to thicken the soup and make it velvety.
Let cool slightly before serving.
補腦，補腎也。
[Good for the brain and kidneys.]
One tael (兩 leung) is one-and-a-third ounce, though nowadays metrified as fifty grammes. There are ten mace (錢 chien) in a tael, sixteen tael in a catty (斤 gan).
Two tablespoons of cornstarch are equivalent to one-and-a-half tael, ergo there are four teaspoons in one tael of cornstarch.
[From notations elsewhere: One cup sugar is 192 grammes, one tablespoon is 12 grammes, one teaspoon is four grammes. And one 兩 or 两 (leung) equals 37¾ grammes ~ 1.3 oz. So four tael sugar is the same as 4.3 oz., or approximately 150 grammes, 12½ tablespoons. Eh, ¾ cup.
Five tael would be exactly 190 grammes, or nearly sixteen tablespoons of sugar.]
Rather than being overly precise and neurotic about the exact weights and volumes, just wing it. You'll figure out what works for you soon enough.
I did; look at me.
Healthy!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
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