Here it is, Tuesday morning, a work day, and I woke up regretting my intemperate behaviour last night. No, it has nothing to do with booze. Though being a pipe smoker, right now would be the only time I could truly appreciate a fine single malt, seeing as by evening my tastebuds have usually had a work out.
I don't drink until night-fall, in case you were wondering.
But the first pipe is before lunch time.
Almost always.
After a hot cuppa milk-tea at a bakery in Chinatown late yesterday afternoon, I wandered around smoking a bowlful of spuncut.
Thoughts:
"My heavens, that little girl sure is cute!"
[Especially by contrast with her haggard old grandfather.]
"Two old ladies should NOT be screaming over a card game."
[Younger people also use this park; what kind of horrid example are you two setting?]
"He looks like a loony; avoid eye-contact."
[Many white people in Chinatown are off-kilter, and possible psycho.]
Ended up at City Lights Bookstore, and browsed.
Thoughts:
"Good lord what pretentious garbage!"
[Beat poets, Bukowski, and the entire gender studies section.]
"Sh*t, nothing but the usual sh*tty translations by artistic sh*theads!"
[Chinese poetry shape-shifted into English, without the original texts for comparison; heck, they could put down anything and claim "it's Chinese Poetry, dude!", and who the hell would know any better?]
"Bollocks!"
[General reaction to a lot of very intellectual stuff.]
After not buying anything at the bookstore, I went to a new dumpling place that recently opened. This man seriously loves dumplings. Sometimes there's nothing finer than little dough pockets filled with a juicy mixture of meat and vegetables, all hot and beguiling from the kitchen.
Hand me my chopsticks, I need to eat.
Thoughts:
"The name says North, what the two waitresses are speaking says South."
[The Cantonese language.]
"These dumplings are darn good!"
[Chive and pork dumplings.]
"Well crap! The skewered lamb is just wunnerful too!"
[Hot greasy goodness, with cumin.]
"Wow."
[Gau choi chu yiuk gaau ji, kou yeung yiuk chuen, dou leung go hou mei hou sik ge woh!]
韭菜豬肉餃子、烤羊肉串、都兩個好味好食嘅喎！
Now here's the problem: I like my dumplings with chili sauce.
Same with skewered tender lamb.
I probably overdid it.
Just a bit.
My insides may be in disagreement with my head today.
In fact, I think that is inevitable.
Probably shouldn't have snacked on the Italian cured meat products (two kinds) when I got home either.
After another pipe-full.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Showing posts with label 水餃. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 水餃. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
Friday, April 25, 2014
PRESIDENTIAL PORK AND LEEK DUMPLINGS, STEWED OFFAL, AND MUSTARD
An article on the BBC website quirked my interest and my appetite. Albeit indirectly. It mentioned an incident that occured last December, when Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) had lunch among the masses, proving that he ate normally, and like every one else.
Quote: "The meal of six pork and leek dumplings, two side dishes of mustard greens, and a stew made of pigs liver and intestines ... "
習近平的午餐. Photo: AP. Via BBC.
First reaction: Those dumplings look awfully doughy and dense.
On second thought, I realized that of course they do, they're not really dumplings.
Northerners are wheat eaters, consequently the meal-time starch will necessarily veer toward steamed bread (饅頭 'maan tou'), rather than rice or noodles. Dumplin skin is merely a thin wrapping.
The BBC got it all wrong. Those weren't dumplings -- 蒸餃 ('jing gaau') or 水餃 ('sui gaau') -- but buns (包子 'baau ji'). Had they been dumplings, the filling would likely be chopped small cabbage, chives, or scallion, that was mixed with the meat; what every one knows as "water dumpling" (水餃 'sui gaau'). Sui gaau are extremely tasty, especially when made with gau choi (韭菜). While gau choi can indeed be translated as "leek", and often is, that is quite utterly incorrect.
They are lovely fragrant thin jade-green garlic chives.
Which are frequently paired with pork.
Delightful.
菜肉包 CHOI YIUK BAO
The combination of garlic chives (韭菜) and minced or shredded pork (肉絲 'yiuk szi') will be mostly found in dumplings made by people who are not from Lingnan (嶺南 'leng naam'). The nearest commonly found Cantonese equivalent to what Xi Jinping ate that day is the meat and vegetable bun found at small eateries which is called a 'choi yiuk bao' (菜肉包). It is not at all chopstick-size, but a handful. Like it's close relatives the gaibao (雞包 chicken bun) and the charsiu bao (叉燒飽 barbecue meat bun), one of them is enough for elevenses, with a beverage.
It is, in fact, a snackypoo.
Only casual eating.
Not a lunch.
The vegetable and pork dumpling (豬肉水餃 'chu yiuk sui gaau'), when pan-fried, yields the typical American potsticker (鍋貼 'wo tip').
This too is a lovely snack, but not lunch.
豬肉大蔥包子、炒肝、芥菜。
What Xi Jinping actually had on that day was plate of six meat and leek buns (6個豬肉大蔥包子 'lok go chu yiuk daai chung baau ji'), plus one bowl of soupy sauteed liver (1碗炒肝 'yat wun chaau gon'), and a side of cooked mustard stalks (1碟芥菜 'yat dip gaai choi').
Truly a great man.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Quote: "The meal of six pork and leek dumplings, two side dishes of mustard greens, and a stew made of pigs liver and intestines ... "
習近平的午餐. Photo: AP. Via BBC.
On second thought, I realized that of course they do, they're not really dumplings.
Northerners are wheat eaters, consequently the meal-time starch will necessarily veer toward steamed bread (饅頭 'maan tou'), rather than rice or noodles. Dumplin skin is merely a thin wrapping.
The BBC got it all wrong. Those weren't dumplings -- 蒸餃 ('jing gaau') or 水餃 ('sui gaau') -- but buns (包子 'baau ji'). Had they been dumplings, the filling would likely be chopped small cabbage, chives, or scallion, that was mixed with the meat; what every one knows as "water dumpling" (水餃 'sui gaau'). Sui gaau are extremely tasty, especially when made with gau choi (韭菜). While gau choi can indeed be translated as "leek", and often is, that is quite utterly incorrect.
They are lovely fragrant thin jade-green garlic chives.
Which are frequently paired with pork.
Delightful.
菜肉包 CHOI YIUK BAO
The combination of garlic chives (韭菜) and minced or shredded pork (肉絲 'yiuk szi') will be mostly found in dumplings made by people who are not from Lingnan (嶺南 'leng naam'). The nearest commonly found Cantonese equivalent to what Xi Jinping ate that day is the meat and vegetable bun found at small eateries which is called a 'choi yiuk bao' (菜肉包). It is not at all chopstick-size, but a handful. Like it's close relatives the gaibao (雞包 chicken bun) and the charsiu bao (叉燒飽 barbecue meat bun), one of them is enough for elevenses, with a beverage.
It is, in fact, a snackypoo.
Only casual eating.
Not a lunch.
The vegetable and pork dumpling (豬肉水餃 'chu yiuk sui gaau'), when pan-fried, yields the typical American potsticker (鍋貼 'wo tip').
This too is a lovely snack, but not lunch.
豬肉大蔥包子、炒肝、芥菜。
What Xi Jinping actually had on that day was plate of six meat and leek buns (6個豬肉大蔥包子 'lok go chu yiuk daai chung baau ji'), plus one bowl of soupy sauteed liver (1碗炒肝 'yat wun chaau gon'), and a side of cooked mustard stalks (1碟芥菜 'yat dip gaai choi').
Truly a great man.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, March 30, 2014
DINNER AT THE BUND
The people within easy view were, mostly, not Chinese. Which was not at all surprising seeing as the restaurant was in the middle of Chinatown; one does not expect a flock of Cantonese folks settling down for family dinner in a Shanghainese place. Which made it absolutely perfect for the three or four interracial couples present -- it gave them a greater likelihood of privacy and confidentiality -- and the delicious novelty of SHANGHAINESE (!) food had doubtlessly pulled in several of the other customers who were there.
Novelty will only go so far; the cooking is actually pretty darn good.
Enough variety that even Midwesterners might be happy.
Some Shanghainese dishes, and soup dumplings.
Soup dumplings are extremely Shanghai.
Plus other excellent things.
I got what I always get there: a plate of steamed dumplings. Not the soup dumplings (小籠包), but a very lovely version of the standard jiaoze which Cantonese people never make.
韭菜豬肉水餃
Nope, hardly a clue what those are called in the Wu dialects; we call them gau choi chü yiuk soei gaau. Chives and pork meat water dumplings. They're absolutely great fresh and hot, with shredded ginger black vinegar, and a sploodge of hot sauce. The typical Shanghainese will not add that latter condiment, but I'm a barbarian so I can get away with it.
And, given that I ordered in Cantonese, might as well leave them with a weird impression of other Chinese....... which, as a white guy, I'm obviously not. Life should be surreal; I do my bit to make it so.
A man has got to have his dumplings; sometimes one wants won ton (雲吞), sometimes it has to be Northern style soei gaau (水餃).
Dumplings are perfect for a single diner.
Everything else requires multiple people at the same table, or truly piggish appetites. Chinese restaurant kitchens are not quite capable of keeping the solitary beast in mind, so almost everything on the menu will presume that a large bunch of happy people will share everything ordered.
And Chinese people are largely social eaters.
Mature white bachelors -- especially bachelors who did not used to be bachelors -- are not fit company. We eat alone. On a bad day we will bury our faces deep in a plate of bacon and cheese lobster, and crack the shell with our teeth, sucking down the greasy richness with growling sounds.
Or we'll snap at a juicy steak like a dog chivying a squirrel, till at last we've wrestled it from the plate on which it was hiding, like the wuss that it was,
to a corner of the floor, where we rip it to shreds with our fangs.
There is naught refined, or even sentient, about our eating.
We scratch at fleas and chase away other predators.
And we blink and bark and slobber.
Doberman diner.
In the years of our bitter solitude we've gotten used to frightening children and little old ladies. Happy families cover their eyes and veer tremblingly away. Civilians and other delicate spirits flee in horror.
But once in a while we put on clothing, and venture to a place where some damned fine dumplings may be had. With restrained good manners, and unconscious dexterity, we dip the juicy morsel into the shredded ginger black vinegar, then into the hot sauce. Delicately, without spilling a single drop, we move it to our mouth, and take a bite.
Mmmm, so good.
A perfect dumpling reminds us that we used to be civilized.
It also fills the gaping holes in the soul.
And, of course, it hits the spot.
It rained yesterday morning. I got drenched. All day long I thought about dumplings. Once I got back to the city, I went straight to Jackson Street. Ten steamed dumplings and a full pot of jasmine tea for less than nine dollars. Courteous staff, considerate service; they're used to exiles wandering in by themselves for a taste of something familiar.
I left a generous tip, and lit up my pipe after I left.
The evening felt new, even after a full day.
First head east, then turn south.
Towards company.
Smoke
The pipe tobacco was Old Gowrie, which is a pleasant partially broken brown Virginia flake by Rattrays of Perth. Nothing extraordinary, just a sturdy, decent, and reliable smoke. It is surprising how fast one can go through a tin once opened. Sweet, suggestive, and slightly spicy.
It speaks of golden ages, quietness, and civilized living.
And of jasmine tea and steamed dumplings.
But that could just be me.
I recommend it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Novelty will only go so far; the cooking is actually pretty darn good.
Enough variety that even Midwesterners might be happy.
Some Shanghainese dishes, and soup dumplings.
Soup dumplings are extremely Shanghai.
Plus other excellent things.
I got what I always get there: a plate of steamed dumplings. Not the soup dumplings (小籠包), but a very lovely version of the standard jiaoze which Cantonese people never make.
韭菜豬肉水餃
Nope, hardly a clue what those are called in the Wu dialects; we call them gau choi chü yiuk soei gaau. Chives and pork meat water dumplings. They're absolutely great fresh and hot, with shredded ginger black vinegar, and a sploodge of hot sauce. The typical Shanghainese will not add that latter condiment, but I'm a barbarian so I can get away with it.
And, given that I ordered in Cantonese, might as well leave them with a weird impression of other Chinese....... which, as a white guy, I'm obviously not. Life should be surreal; I do my bit to make it so.
A man has got to have his dumplings; sometimes one wants won ton (雲吞), sometimes it has to be Northern style soei gaau (水餃).
Dumplings are perfect for a single diner.
Everything else requires multiple people at the same table, or truly piggish appetites. Chinese restaurant kitchens are not quite capable of keeping the solitary beast in mind, so almost everything on the menu will presume that a large bunch of happy people will share everything ordered.
And Chinese people are largely social eaters.
Mature white bachelors -- especially bachelors who did not used to be bachelors -- are not fit company. We eat alone. On a bad day we will bury our faces deep in a plate of bacon and cheese lobster, and crack the shell with our teeth, sucking down the greasy richness with growling sounds.
Or we'll snap at a juicy steak like a dog chivying a squirrel, till at last we've wrestled it from the plate on which it was hiding, like the wuss that it was,
to a corner of the floor, where we rip it to shreds with our fangs.
There is naught refined, or even sentient, about our eating.
We scratch at fleas and chase away other predators.
And we blink and bark and slobber.
Doberman diner.
In the years of our bitter solitude we've gotten used to frightening children and little old ladies. Happy families cover their eyes and veer tremblingly away. Civilians and other delicate spirits flee in horror.
But once in a while we put on clothing, and venture to a place where some damned fine dumplings may be had. With restrained good manners, and unconscious dexterity, we dip the juicy morsel into the shredded ginger black vinegar, then into the hot sauce. Delicately, without spilling a single drop, we move it to our mouth, and take a bite.
Mmmm, so good.
A perfect dumpling reminds us that we used to be civilized.
It also fills the gaping holes in the soul.
And, of course, it hits the spot.
It rained yesterday morning. I got drenched. All day long I thought about dumplings. Once I got back to the city, I went straight to Jackson Street. Ten steamed dumplings and a full pot of jasmine tea for less than nine dollars. Courteous staff, considerate service; they're used to exiles wandering in by themselves for a taste of something familiar.
I left a generous tip, and lit up my pipe after I left.
The evening felt new, even after a full day.
First head east, then turn south.
Towards company.
Smoke
The pipe tobacco was Old Gowrie, which is a pleasant partially broken brown Virginia flake by Rattrays of Perth. Nothing extraordinary, just a sturdy, decent, and reliable smoke. It is surprising how fast one can go through a tin once opened. Sweet, suggestive, and slightly spicy.
It speaks of golden ages, quietness, and civilized living.
And of jasmine tea and steamed dumplings.
But that could just be me.
I recommend it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, September 13, 2012
A LIGHTNESS IN THE AIR
The first thing I noticed was how she held her chopsticks. And then the book.
When a woman is eating dumplings while reading it tells you two things.
One is that she is alone. Whether that is a permanent state or temporary is not clear.
The other very important datum it imparts is that she likes dumplings.
Dumplings are a very great good.
The place was nearly empty, and on a whim I went inside. After placing my order I observed the dumpling woman out of the corner of my eye.
Short, trim, grey haired. Probably around seventy years old, maybe a little bit beyond.
Angular features, though they softened as she ate.
A string of pearls, and a comfy sweater. Reading a book by Elaine Pagels.
And, unlike most Caucasians, she used all of the digits on her right hand to wield her chopsticks.
CHOPSTICKS, PAGELS, AND DUCK
That’s quite unusual. Most of us white people manipulate chopsticks rather like Tanizaki Yukari, with that dubious two-fingered wobble that makes the transfer of morsels to the mouth a minor miracle.
She, on the other hand, looked like she had been born with them.
I’m not sure about the Elaine Pagels book, however. As dinner literature it is both excessively casual and disconcerting.
It is not clear to me why anyone would read that book while in the presence of good food.
Perhaps a perverse streak?
When her bowl of roast duck noodle soup came she put the book down, and grasped the porcelain spoon with her reading hand. Slowly, almost lovingly, she clumped a skein of noodles between her chopsticks and lifted it up, before bringing it to her mouth. While slurping the noodles in, she dipped a spoonful of broth.
It wasn’t until the third mouthful that she assayed a chunk of roast duck.
I’ve had the roast duck there a number of times, it’s not bad.
And their soup stock is very good, both fragrant and clear.
I ordered the same dish, but instead of wheat noodles, I requested rice stick.
Personally I think it goes much better with rich meats.
Plus I prefer the slippery texture.
The dark glistening Sienna hues of the duck, the pure whiteness of rice noodles, the fell green of 菜心 and the chopped scallion sending its perfume over the sparkling pale broth. Beautiful.
Like the dumplings mentioned earlier, it is a great good.
She finished before I did, of course.
Stowed the book in a pocket of her jacket, and headed out into the night.
After I left the restaurant I wandered up Pacific Avenue. There was a peculiar smell at the corner of Taylor, so I sniffed my tweed coat. No, not me. I smell slightly sooty, but that's it.
Lit up a cigarillo at Hyde, and admired the street lights, haloed by mist in the air.
Then home.
Well-fed.
NOTES
Dumplings (餃子): meat and chopped vegetables wrapped in a wheat flour skin, and either steamed or boiled (水餃). If panfried on one side, they become potstickers (鍋貼). Best with a dark vinegar and soy sauce dip, and a dab of chilipaste.
Tanizaki Yukari (谷崎ゆかり): An English teacher in the manga and anime Azumanga Daioh (あずまんが大王). Jealous, self-centered, and mercurial, with a tendency to smack her students with objects like binders or blackboard erasers.
Roast duck (燒鴨): Duck brushed with a sugar solution, hung to dry, then roasted at high heat (400 degrees Fahrenheit) for nearly an hour. Part of the trick to cooking this is first blanching the duck with boiling water to tighten the flesh, plus putting rice wine and aromatics in the cavity. The cavity contents are poured out after cooking for use as a dip or flavouring.
Wheat noodles: 麵. Probably 幼麵 in this case.
Rice stick noodles: 河粉. Though 粿条 would also work. Not 瀨粉, that would have been too rich.
Elaine Pagels: an author who lectures at the same school as my super brilliant cousin the mediaeval art historian.
Not that that means anything or is in any way relevant.
I just like boasting about my cousin.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
When a woman is eating dumplings while reading it tells you two things.
One is that she is alone. Whether that is a permanent state or temporary is not clear.
The other very important datum it imparts is that she likes dumplings.
Dumplings are a very great good.
The place was nearly empty, and on a whim I went inside. After placing my order I observed the dumpling woman out of the corner of my eye.
Short, trim, grey haired. Probably around seventy years old, maybe a little bit beyond.
Angular features, though they softened as she ate.
A string of pearls, and a comfy sweater. Reading a book by Elaine Pagels.
And, unlike most Caucasians, she used all of the digits on her right hand to wield her chopsticks.
CHOPSTICKS, PAGELS, AND DUCK
That’s quite unusual. Most of us white people manipulate chopsticks rather like Tanizaki Yukari, with that dubious two-fingered wobble that makes the transfer of morsels to the mouth a minor miracle.
She, on the other hand, looked like she had been born with them.
I’m not sure about the Elaine Pagels book, however. As dinner literature it is both excessively casual and disconcerting.
It is not clear to me why anyone would read that book while in the presence of good food.
Perhaps a perverse streak?
When her bowl of roast duck noodle soup came she put the book down, and grasped the porcelain spoon with her reading hand. Slowly, almost lovingly, she clumped a skein of noodles between her chopsticks and lifted it up, before bringing it to her mouth. While slurping the noodles in, she dipped a spoonful of broth.
It wasn’t until the third mouthful that she assayed a chunk of roast duck.
I’ve had the roast duck there a number of times, it’s not bad.
And their soup stock is very good, both fragrant and clear.
I ordered the same dish, but instead of wheat noodles, I requested rice stick.
Personally I think it goes much better with rich meats.
Plus I prefer the slippery texture.
The dark glistening Sienna hues of the duck, the pure whiteness of rice noodles, the fell green of 菜心 and the chopped scallion sending its perfume over the sparkling pale broth. Beautiful.
Like the dumplings mentioned earlier, it is a great good.
She finished before I did, of course.
Stowed the book in a pocket of her jacket, and headed out into the night.
After I left the restaurant I wandered up Pacific Avenue. There was a peculiar smell at the corner of Taylor, so I sniffed my tweed coat. No, not me. I smell slightly sooty, but that's it.
Lit up a cigarillo at Hyde, and admired the street lights, haloed by mist in the air.
Then home.
Well-fed.
NOTES
Dumplings (餃子): meat and chopped vegetables wrapped in a wheat flour skin, and either steamed or boiled (水餃). If panfried on one side, they become potstickers (鍋貼). Best with a dark vinegar and soy sauce dip, and a dab of chilipaste.
Tanizaki Yukari (谷崎ゆかり): An English teacher in the manga and anime Azumanga Daioh (あずまんが大王). Jealous, self-centered, and mercurial, with a tendency to smack her students with objects like binders or blackboard erasers.
Roast duck (燒鴨): Duck brushed with a sugar solution, hung to dry, then roasted at high heat (400 degrees Fahrenheit) for nearly an hour. Part of the trick to cooking this is first blanching the duck with boiling water to tighten the flesh, plus putting rice wine and aromatics in the cavity. The cavity contents are poured out after cooking for use as a dip or flavouring.
Wheat noodles: 麵. Probably 幼麵 in this case.
Rice stick noodles: 河粉. Though 粿条 would also work. Not 瀨粉, that would have been too rich.
Elaine Pagels: an author who lectures at the same school as my super brilliant cousin the mediaeval art historian.
Not that that means anything or is in any way relevant.
I just like boasting about my cousin.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, March 28, 2011
A WET LITTLE DOUGH POCKET FRAME OF MIND
I woke up at about four thirty this morning and was not able to fall back asleep. And I'm blaming a Chinese person for this. No, not Savage Kitten.
It's some guy who works in a kitchen a few streets over. Bastard!
水餃
Yesterday, after having been at the office for several hours, I headed over to Chinatown for lunch, only to discover that the place at which I intended to eat is closed on Sunday. So instead I headed two blocks further north and ordered a plate of 水餃 instead. This was just before three o'clock in the afternoon.
I should have known.
My own stupid fault.
Fourteen hours later I was dreaming about specific foods.
To whit:
南瓜汁拌鮮露筍
咸肉津白
四喜烤麸
圓子
外婆紅燒肉
大閘蟹
小籠包
拉麵
擔擔麵
水煮魚
海帶珊翠絲
清炒蝦仁
渤海雅片魚頭
滬江三絲拌冷麵
漁香蝦球
灌湯牛肉餡餅
煲咸肉菜飯
特式餃子
獅子頭
生煎饅頭
砂鍋雲吞炖雞
糟溜魚塊
舟山紅蜇頭
花膠雙冬煲
蒜蓉拍黃瓜
蘿蔔絲酥餅
蟹粉小籠包
蟹粉豆腐羹
豆沙窩餅
豆腐餃子
辣子雞
酒釀花雕蒸花蟹
醉香乳鴿
醉鷄
金巢崧子魚米
韭王炒鱔糊
韭菜鰻魚
香煎小黃魚
馬蘭頭百頁卷
高力豆沙香蕉
鮮肉生煎鰻頭
鯽魚
黃金白玉蝦
黃魚煨麵
Etc.
The perspicacious reader has by now figured out what kind of restaurant it was where I had those 水餃, so really there is no need for me to detail it.
Suffice to say that I should've had the 生煎包 instead, seeing as I had had 水餃 the previous time. And I've made it a point to not rely too much on the tried and true, but to experiment and eat different things.
It's a voyage of discovery.
One learns so much about oneself by eating something new.
And I would've done so, except that I was the only customer at the time, it being after lunch. So 水餃 seemed like an easy choice, whereas 生煎包 might have meant a serious imposition on a person taking a rest between lunch and dinner.
水餃 merely require boiling - anyone can do that.
生煎包 on the other hand require a trained hand and a keen eye.
Plus hot fat.
And he was probably taking a nap.
Hard-working cooks deserve their rest.
水餃.
It's HIS fault that I woke up with a full menu in my head and a yen for rich soupy juices. Bastard!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly: LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
It's some guy who works in a kitchen a few streets over. Bastard!
水餃
Yesterday, after having been at the office for several hours, I headed over to Chinatown for lunch, only to discover that the place at which I intended to eat is closed on Sunday. So instead I headed two blocks further north and ordered a plate of 水餃 instead. This was just before three o'clock in the afternoon.
I should have known.
My own stupid fault.
Fourteen hours later I was dreaming about specific foods.
To whit:
南瓜汁拌鮮露筍
咸肉津白
四喜烤麸
圓子
外婆紅燒肉
大閘蟹
小籠包
拉麵
擔擔麵
水煮魚
海帶珊翠絲
清炒蝦仁
渤海雅片魚頭
滬江三絲拌冷麵
漁香蝦球
灌湯牛肉餡餅
煲咸肉菜飯
特式餃子
獅子頭
生煎饅頭
砂鍋雲吞炖雞
糟溜魚塊
舟山紅蜇頭
花膠雙冬煲
蒜蓉拍黃瓜
蘿蔔絲酥餅
蟹粉小籠包
蟹粉豆腐羹
豆沙窩餅
豆腐餃子
辣子雞
酒釀花雕蒸花蟹
醉香乳鴿
醉鷄
金巢崧子魚米
韭王炒鱔糊
韭菜鰻魚
香煎小黃魚
馬蘭頭百頁卷
高力豆沙香蕉
鮮肉生煎鰻頭
鯽魚
黃金白玉蝦
黃魚煨麵
Etc.
The perspicacious reader has by now figured out what kind of restaurant it was where I had those 水餃, so really there is no need for me to detail it.
Suffice to say that I should've had the 生煎包 instead, seeing as I had had 水餃 the previous time. And I've made it a point to not rely too much on the tried and true, but to experiment and eat different things.
It's a voyage of discovery.
One learns so much about oneself by eating something new.
And I would've done so, except that I was the only customer at the time, it being after lunch. So 水餃 seemed like an easy choice, whereas 生煎包 might have meant a serious imposition on a person taking a rest between lunch and dinner.
水餃 merely require boiling - anyone can do that.
生煎包 on the other hand require a trained hand and a keen eye.
Plus hot fat.
And he was probably taking a nap.
Hard-working cooks deserve their rest.
水餃.
It's HIS fault that I woke up with a full menu in my head and a yen for rich soupy juices. Bastard!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly: LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
GARLIC CHIVE DUMPLINGS
Years ago on late evenings, I would head over to the DPD (一品香) on the corner of Jackson and Kearny, or the Taiwan Restaurant (臺灣飯店) at Broadway and Columbus for some water dumplings.
Water dumplings (水餃) are not the same as what Cantonese people call by that name. The northern version is a pocket of savoury filling inside a handmade skin, either boiled till done or steamed. It is the origin of potstickers, because if there any left-over they can be panfried the next day.
What the Cantonese call 水餃 are usually wonton, somewhat larger than normal, with a shrimp filling.
Both are fine products if done properly. But if you had a yen for shwei jiau, you will be incredibly disappointed when soei gaau show up. That isn't what you wanted to eat at all!
What is wrong with the world?!?
Oh woe! Profound despair!
Neither the DPD nor the Taiwan Restaurant still exist.
The corner where the DPD stood is now a Thai Restaurant, and the location of the Taiwan Restaurant has gone through several incarnations in the last decade - Mexican grill, Arab pizza joint, bankrupt business, and pizza joint again. Plus something else that lasted so short a while in between pizza joint and bankrupt (or bankrupt and pizza joint) that I cannot remember what it was.
There is almost nowhere in the old neighborhood where one can get real Northern Dumplings.
白加士街
[PARKES STREET, KOWLOON]
MTR station at Jordan Road (佐敦道) and Nathan Road (彌敦道).
At Jordan Road turn left.
Parkes Street (白加士街) is on the right, runs three blocks from Jordan to Saigon (西貢).
CLEARLY VISIBLE LANDMARK: MacDonald's on corner of Jordan Road and Parkes Street. This is NOT why you are here. If all you wanted was a snack, the Wonton King (雲吞王) is in the middle of the first block of Parkes Street, on the left hand side.
It isn't especially good, but it's better than Mc-flaccid beef muck on sponge.
發仔記點心小廚 just up the block, same side, is marginally better.
However, further up Parkes street, on the other side of the intersection with Nanking Street (Namkeng kai: 南京街) well before Ningpo Street (寧波街), is an oasis.
There is a Seven-Eleven on the corner of Nanking Street, in case you are lost.
What you need is five doors up from the corner.
It's right next to 鹵鵝皇 (the Brined Goose Emperor). Kam Seng Jook Mien is on the other side. There's a Szechuan Restaurant right opposite (麻辣王).
唯珍上海麵家 WAI-TSAN SEUNGHOI MIEN KAA
125 Parkes Street, Ground Floor
Telephone: 2770 4763
Roughly translated, the name is "rare delicacy Shanghai noodle restaurant".
Except your focus is not so much noodles as the pan-fried pork cutlets - either with noodles or rice, or on top of soup - and most especially the garlic chives pork dumplings.
Everything here is 好新鮮 (ho san sien) - very very fresh!
豬扒 (chyu paa) pork cutlet.
韭菜豬肉水餃 (gau choi chyu yiuk soei gaau) garlic chives pork dumplings.
The dumplings are real Shui Jiao - water dumplings, northern type. Handmade skins enfolding a mixture of chopped pork and vegetable. Both the dumplings and the cutlets should be eaten with lots of hot sauce. Real hot sauce (mashed chili paste), bright red and juicy, rather than the typical brown-fried chili flakes in darkened oil common at many other dumpling shops.
真唔錯, 真好味! 食得爆呀!
It's a relatively small place, only one table for a large group, plus some 2 and 4 person seatings.
If you're rushed, just grab a flaky meat roll (餡餅) or a sweet bean turnover (豆沙餅).
Parkes Street is rather narrow, with just enough space for parking and two lanes in between the buildings. The Public Light Bus Service (公共小型巴士) red tops go up Parkes Street, the green tops go down Jordan Road.
昃臣街
[JACKSON STREET, SAN FRANCISCO]
A few weeks ago, on a rainy weekend evening, I left the office after dark.
On Jackson Street (昃臣街) between Kearny (乾尼街) and Grant Avenue (都板街) I found a new place. I had seen the owners preparing to open up for business quite a while back, but hadn't paid much attention at the time, other than to wonder how wise it was to open up their kind of business in a neighborhood populated mostly by Toishanese and HK immigrants on tight budgets.
上海飯店 BUND SHANGHAI RESTAURANT
640 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133
415-982-0618
Scoping out the menu in the window, what caught my eye was one key term: 韭菜豬肉水餃.
Yes! Garlic chives dumplings! Exult!
Had a full plate. Delicious. Tender delicate toothsome skins, perfect filling.
Glopped 'em with real hot sauce.
While I ate I listened in on the 老闆娘 telling her waiters which tables needed extra attention, make sure those kids don't hurt themselves, more peanuts, and will someone please answer the phone I don't speak English!
It is traditional to eat dumplings during the new year.
But I'm not waiting twelve months to eat here again.
This place is worth several second visits.
There's finally a place for water dumplings near home.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Water dumplings (水餃) are not the same as what Cantonese people call by that name. The northern version is a pocket of savoury filling inside a handmade skin, either boiled till done or steamed. It is the origin of potstickers, because if there any left-over they can be panfried the next day.
What the Cantonese call 水餃 are usually wonton, somewhat larger than normal, with a shrimp filling.
Both are fine products if done properly. But if you had a yen for shwei jiau, you will be incredibly disappointed when soei gaau show up. That isn't what you wanted to eat at all!
What is wrong with the world?!?
Oh woe! Profound despair!
Neither the DPD nor the Taiwan Restaurant still exist.
The corner where the DPD stood is now a Thai Restaurant, and the location of the Taiwan Restaurant has gone through several incarnations in the last decade - Mexican grill, Arab pizza joint, bankrupt business, and pizza joint again. Plus something else that lasted so short a while in between pizza joint and bankrupt (or bankrupt and pizza joint) that I cannot remember what it was.
There is almost nowhere in the old neighborhood where one can get real Northern Dumplings.
白加士街
[PARKES STREET, KOWLOON]
MTR station at Jordan Road (佐敦道) and Nathan Road (彌敦道).
At Jordan Road turn left.
Parkes Street (白加士街) is on the right, runs three blocks from Jordan to Saigon (西貢).
CLEARLY VISIBLE LANDMARK: MacDonald's on corner of Jordan Road and Parkes Street. This is NOT why you are here. If all you wanted was a snack, the Wonton King (雲吞王) is in the middle of the first block of Parkes Street, on the left hand side.
It isn't especially good, but it's better than Mc-flaccid beef muck on sponge.
發仔記點心小廚 just up the block, same side, is marginally better.
However, further up Parkes street, on the other side of the intersection with Nanking Street (Namkeng kai: 南京街) well before Ningpo Street (寧波街), is an oasis.
There is a Seven-Eleven on the corner of Nanking Street, in case you are lost.
What you need is five doors up from the corner.
It's right next to 鹵鵝皇 (the Brined Goose Emperor). Kam Seng Jook Mien is on the other side. There's a Szechuan Restaurant right opposite (麻辣王).
唯珍上海麵家 WAI-TSAN SEUNGHOI MIEN KAA
125 Parkes Street, Ground Floor
Telephone: 2770 4763
Roughly translated, the name is "rare delicacy Shanghai noodle restaurant".
Except your focus is not so much noodles as the pan-fried pork cutlets - either with noodles or rice, or on top of soup - and most especially the garlic chives pork dumplings.
Everything here is 好新鮮 (ho san sien) - very very fresh!
豬扒 (chyu paa) pork cutlet.
韭菜豬肉水餃 (gau choi chyu yiuk soei gaau) garlic chives pork dumplings.
The dumplings are real Shui Jiao - water dumplings, northern type. Handmade skins enfolding a mixture of chopped pork and vegetable. Both the dumplings and the cutlets should be eaten with lots of hot sauce. Real hot sauce (mashed chili paste), bright red and juicy, rather than the typical brown-fried chili flakes in darkened oil common at many other dumpling shops.
真唔錯, 真好味! 食得爆呀!
It's a relatively small place, only one table for a large group, plus some 2 and 4 person seatings.
If you're rushed, just grab a flaky meat roll (餡餅) or a sweet bean turnover (豆沙餅).
Parkes Street is rather narrow, with just enough space for parking and two lanes in between the buildings. The Public Light Bus Service (公共小型巴士) red tops go up Parkes Street, the green tops go down Jordan Road.
昃臣街
[JACKSON STREET, SAN FRANCISCO]
A few weeks ago, on a rainy weekend evening, I left the office after dark.
On Jackson Street (昃臣街) between Kearny (乾尼街) and Grant Avenue (都板街) I found a new place. I had seen the owners preparing to open up for business quite a while back, but hadn't paid much attention at the time, other than to wonder how wise it was to open up their kind of business in a neighborhood populated mostly by Toishanese and HK immigrants on tight budgets.
上海飯店 BUND SHANGHAI RESTAURANT
640 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133
415-982-0618
Scoping out the menu in the window, what caught my eye was one key term: 韭菜豬肉水餃.
Yes! Garlic chives dumplings! Exult!
Had a full plate. Delicious. Tender delicate toothsome skins, perfect filling.
Glopped 'em with real hot sauce.
While I ate I listened in on the 老闆娘 telling her waiters which tables needed extra attention, make sure those kids don't hurt themselves, more peanuts, and will someone please answer the phone I don't speak English!
It is traditional to eat dumplings during the new year.
But I'm not waiting twelve months to eat here again.
This place is worth several second visits.
There's finally a place for water dumplings near home.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, January 03, 2011
WONTON, WANTAN, WUNTUN: HON'S WUN TUN HOUSE AND SCRAWNY MAK
Really, it doesn’t matter what you call those things. As long as you're saying 雲吞, which is the Cantonese way of writing and pronouncing the word.
Northerners say 餛飩 and mean something that really isn't the same.
To Northerners, 'hwuntwun' (餛飩) are always a poorer cousin of 'shwei-jiao' (水餃), without the warm familial connotations or cold-weather comfort. For many Cantonese, soei-gaau (水餃) are simply a larger and coarser version of wantan (雲吞) with a distinct pong to the stuffing.
Northern dumpling filling always includes chopped cabbage, garlic, and other stuff that to the southern mind has absolutely no business being there.
Wonton (wantan) are quintessentially Cantonese - refined yet brash, small but feisty.
All good stuff.
[Besides the fact that the dough skins and construction of the dumplings are different, that the sizes are dissimilar , and the fillings vary enormously, it's also a question of attitude: Wonton are to the Cantonese what shwei-jiao (水餃 'soei-gau') are to the Northerners - something that appeals on a deeper level, and darnitall why can't that other bunch ('northerners', usually meaning most other Chinese) just learn to do it right?
Shwei-jiao properly are large dumplings with a filling of minced meat and chives or cabbage poached in boiling water for about twenty minutes - which is far too long by the standards of the impatient Cantonese, who don't know really what those things are and consequently often use the term to refer to a big ugly type of wonton. Ordering wonton outside of the Cantonese world leads to disappointment, in the same way that expecting real shwei-jiao in a Cantonese restaurant will get you what precisely you did NOT want. ]
By northern standards the Cantonese commit several horrid crimes with wonton.
Cantonese serve them with noodles ("nope, that just ain't right!").
In a stock flavoured with a smelly dried fish ("everybody KNOWS it should be superior broth!").
Frequently with some small cabbage (小白菜 'siu pak tsoi') added ("the nerve, the effrontery!").
And maybe even slices of red roast pork (叉燒 'charsiu') on top for extra fun ("scream, wail, faint!!!").
[Superior broth (高湯 'ko tong') is made from chicken and pork bones simmered on low heat for a couple of hours, skimmed and strained. The result is a clear intense flavour with a touch of sweetness. The soup used for wonton is anything but "superior", being more of a clean briny bouillon than anything else. If you went into a wonton restaurant looking for something similar to Vietnamese pho, you will be quite as horrified as the average Northerner (北方人 'pakfong yan') often is upon discovering charred fish and shrimp roe.]
Which makes it all the more remarkable that I had really excellent wonton the other day at a place where most of the staff spoke Mandarin among themselves, and didn't even look Cantonese!
HON'S WUN-TUN HOUSE (CA.) LTD.
洪記麵家 ("Hung Gei Mien Ga")
648 Kearny Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-433-3966
Hon's is located just north of Commercial Street (襟美慎街 'kam-mei-san kai' - "la calle de los commerciantes") on the east side of Kearny (乾尼街 'kin-nei kai') , before Clay (企李街 'kei-lei kai').
Darn good wonton. Seriously. Yes, the place looks like a hole-in-the-wall, and the tourists will probably be scared to go in, and despite the restaurant name being a major clue won't know what to order if they do. Plus it has that slightly grungy look that many places in Chinatown have - people work here, business is transacted, you got what you wanted, so don't bellyache about the décor.
Décor costs extra.
However.....
Sweet fresh shrimp filling, nine lovely cloud dumplings in a bouillon flavoured with I think the merest touch of dried flounder (左口魚 'jorhauyu', "leftside mouth fish").
It was so satisfying I just had to have another portion.
Hon's Wun-Tun House has been around a heck of a long time, they know what they're doing.
Next time I'll order the wantan tong mien (雲吞湯麵) - wonton and soup noodles.
Of course, for 'real Hong Kong wonton', you probably have to go to Hong Kong. Even though Hon's are the best thing around, some people will always insist that there's a difference.
HONG KONG WONTON: SCRAWNY MAK
Fragrant Harbour's most well-known wonton were from a food stand in Central named 麥奀記 ('mak ngan gei'), started back in the sixties by 麥鏡鴻 (Mak King-hong), whose nickname was 'Scrawny Mak' (麥奀 Mak Ngan).
Presently the family business is called 麥奀雲吞麵世家 ('mak ngan wantan mien sai ga'), and located indoors since the founder gave up his food stall license upon retiring in 1983.
[麥奀雲吞麵世家: 77 Wellington Street - Ground Floor, Central District, HK. (中環, 威靈頓街, 77號, 地下) as well as 麥文記麵家 (Mak Man Kee Noodle): 51 Parkes Street - Ground Floor, Jordan (in the Yau Tsim Mong District 油尖旺區), Kowloon. (九龍, 佐敦, 白加士街, 51號, 地下).]
Mr. Mak's oldest son runs a restaurant named Chung Kee Noodle (忠記麵家 'chung gei mien ga'), and there's even an outpost of the family enterprise in Macau (or so I have heard).
[忠記麵家 (Chung Kee Noodle): 37 Wing Kut Street, Sheung Wan, HK (香港島, 上環, 永吉街, 37號).]
Mak's uses shrimp as filling, served in a broth made of grilled or toasted dried flounder (左口魚 'jorhauyu', "leftside mouth fish"), shrimp roe (蝦子 'haa ji'), and pork stock. If you order the wantan tong mien (雲吞湯麵) the noodles are added last, so that they don't get overcooked and soggy.
Mak's uses only fresh thin noodles, which should be eaten al dente.
Minced garlic chives are used to garnish.
[The character translated as 'scrawny' (奀 'ngan') also means stingy, by the way. Not germane in this context.]
POSTSCRIPTUM
In the United States and Canada dried noodles are often encountered, which have a recognizable smell that is inappropriate in wonton soup. But dried noodles can take a bit more culinary abuse than the fresh product, and are more widely available outside of San Francisco C'town.
Sometimes wheat noodles show up, which is an improvement in taste (over the dried egg noodles), but NOT in texture.
Wheat noodles are just wrong.
Instead of garlic chives, most often you will find scallion used instead.
You should expect to see a recipe for wonton on this blog sometime in the near-future.
Savage Kitten used to make the wonton in our household, now it's my turn.
Because we are no longer a couple and so do not eat together very often - though we still live together as roommates and friends - our eating patterns have changed enormously, and I have re-explored many of the foods that deeply resonate for me.
Also, since the Yat Pan Heung (一品香) on the corner of Jackson and Kearny closed several years ago, there has not been a place with decent shwei-jiao in the old neighborhood. So there will probably be a recipe for boiled dumplings here at some point too.
Northerners may find it heretical.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Northerners say 餛飩 and mean something that really isn't the same.
To Northerners, 'hwuntwun' (餛飩) are always a poorer cousin of 'shwei-jiao' (水餃), without the warm familial connotations or cold-weather comfort. For many Cantonese, soei-gaau (水餃) are simply a larger and coarser version of wantan (雲吞) with a distinct pong to the stuffing.
Northern dumpling filling always includes chopped cabbage, garlic, and other stuff that to the southern mind has absolutely no business being there.
Wonton (wantan) are quintessentially Cantonese - refined yet brash, small but feisty.
All good stuff.
[Besides the fact that the dough skins and construction of the dumplings are different, that the sizes are dissimilar , and the fillings vary enormously, it's also a question of attitude: Wonton are to the Cantonese what shwei-jiao (水餃 'soei-gau') are to the Northerners - something that appeals on a deeper level, and darnitall why can't that other bunch ('northerners', usually meaning most other Chinese) just learn to do it right?
Shwei-jiao properly are large dumplings with a filling of minced meat and chives or cabbage poached in boiling water for about twenty minutes - which is far too long by the standards of the impatient Cantonese, who don't know really what those things are and consequently often use the term to refer to a big ugly type of wonton. Ordering wonton outside of the Cantonese world leads to disappointment, in the same way that expecting real shwei-jiao in a Cantonese restaurant will get you what precisely you did NOT want. ]
By northern standards the Cantonese commit several horrid crimes with wonton.
Cantonese serve them with noodles ("nope, that just ain't right!").
In a stock flavoured with a smelly dried fish ("everybody KNOWS it should be superior broth!").
Frequently with some small cabbage (小白菜 'siu pak tsoi') added ("the nerve, the effrontery!").
And maybe even slices of red roast pork (叉燒 'charsiu') on top for extra fun ("scream, wail, faint!!!").
[Superior broth (高湯 'ko tong') is made from chicken and pork bones simmered on low heat for a couple of hours, skimmed and strained. The result is a clear intense flavour with a touch of sweetness. The soup used for wonton is anything but "superior", being more of a clean briny bouillon than anything else. If you went into a wonton restaurant looking for something similar to Vietnamese pho, you will be quite as horrified as the average Northerner (北方人 'pakfong yan') often is upon discovering charred fish and shrimp roe.]
Which makes it all the more remarkable that I had really excellent wonton the other day at a place where most of the staff spoke Mandarin among themselves, and didn't even look Cantonese!
HON'S WUN-TUN HOUSE (CA.) LTD.
洪記麵家 ("Hung Gei Mien Ga")
648 Kearny Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-433-3966
Hon's is located just north of Commercial Street (襟美慎街 'kam-mei-san kai' - "la calle de los commerciantes") on the east side of Kearny (乾尼街 'kin-nei kai') , before Clay (企李街 'kei-lei kai').
Darn good wonton. Seriously. Yes, the place looks like a hole-in-the-wall, and the tourists will probably be scared to go in, and despite the restaurant name being a major clue won't know what to order if they do. Plus it has that slightly grungy look that many places in Chinatown have - people work here, business is transacted, you got what you wanted, so don't bellyache about the décor.
Décor costs extra.
However.....
Sweet fresh shrimp filling, nine lovely cloud dumplings in a bouillon flavoured with I think the merest touch of dried flounder (左口魚 'jorhauyu', "leftside mouth fish").
It was so satisfying I just had to have another portion.
Hon's Wun-Tun House has been around a heck of a long time, they know what they're doing.
Next time I'll order the wantan tong mien (雲吞湯麵) - wonton and soup noodles.
Of course, for 'real Hong Kong wonton', you probably have to go to Hong Kong. Even though Hon's are the best thing around, some people will always insist that there's a difference.
HONG KONG WONTON: SCRAWNY MAK
Fragrant Harbour's most well-known wonton were from a food stand in Central named 麥奀記 ('mak ngan gei'), started back in the sixties by 麥鏡鴻 (Mak King-hong), whose nickname was 'Scrawny Mak' (麥奀 Mak Ngan).
Presently the family business is called 麥奀雲吞麵世家 ('mak ngan wantan mien sai ga'), and located indoors since the founder gave up his food stall license upon retiring in 1983.
[麥奀雲吞麵世家: 77 Wellington Street - Ground Floor, Central District, HK. (中環, 威靈頓街, 77號, 地下) as well as 麥文記麵家 (Mak Man Kee Noodle): 51 Parkes Street - Ground Floor, Jordan (in the Yau Tsim Mong District 油尖旺區), Kowloon. (九龍, 佐敦, 白加士街, 51號, 地下).]
Mr. Mak's oldest son runs a restaurant named Chung Kee Noodle (忠記麵家 'chung gei mien ga'), and there's even an outpost of the family enterprise in Macau (or so I have heard).
[忠記麵家 (Chung Kee Noodle): 37 Wing Kut Street, Sheung Wan, HK (香港島, 上環, 永吉街, 37號).]
Mak's uses shrimp as filling, served in a broth made of grilled or toasted dried flounder (左口魚 'jorhauyu', "leftside mouth fish"), shrimp roe (蝦子 'haa ji'), and pork stock. If you order the wantan tong mien (雲吞湯麵) the noodles are added last, so that they don't get overcooked and soggy.
Mak's uses only fresh thin noodles, which should be eaten al dente.
Minced garlic chives are used to garnish.
[The character translated as 'scrawny' (奀 'ngan') also means stingy, by the way. Not germane in this context.]
POSTSCRIPTUM
In the United States and Canada dried noodles are often encountered, which have a recognizable smell that is inappropriate in wonton soup. But dried noodles can take a bit more culinary abuse than the fresh product, and are more widely available outside of San Francisco C'town.
Sometimes wheat noodles show up, which is an improvement in taste (over the dried egg noodles), but NOT in texture.
Wheat noodles are just wrong.
Instead of garlic chives, most often you will find scallion used instead.
You should expect to see a recipe for wonton on this blog sometime in the near-future.
Savage Kitten used to make the wonton in our household, now it's my turn.
Because we are no longer a couple and so do not eat together very often - though we still live together as roommates and friends - our eating patterns have changed enormously, and I have re-explored many of the foods that deeply resonate for me.
Also, since the Yat Pan Heung (一品香) on the corner of Jackson and Kearny closed several years ago, there has not been a place with decent shwei-jiao in the old neighborhood. So there will probably be a recipe for boiled dumplings here at some point too.
Northerners may find it heretical.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
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GRITS AND TOFU
Like most Americans, I have a list of people who should be peacefully retired from public service and thereafter kept away from their desks,...
