The ability of Youtube to figure out what I might watch does not disturb me, seeing as largely I am a man of clean habits, and confine my viewing to mediaeval war, in-depth foreign language discussions, small furry creatures, morris dances, and cooking.
So when among the welter of options Youtube suggested chicken and potato curry, naturally I clicked.
薯仔咖喱雞
SYÜ CHAI GAA LEI GAI
[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWozOTg_2Nk.]
That's not quite how I would do it, but I do not have so fully equipped a restaurant-style kitchen. There are limitations. But it is, as the culinary gentleman said, hou gaan-taan (好簡單). Simple. If you can quickly deepfry the potato to gild it, and ditto lightly for the chicken.
Potato chunks, chopped chicken, salt, sugar, oil, vegetables.
Curry paste, coconut milk, chili oil, cilantro.
And a teevee crew (optional).
I always make it more complicated: fish sauce, galangal, lemon grass, fresh chilies, kaffir lime leaf, plus this and that.
Sometimes I wish that my favourite tea restaurants in Chinatown were open late in the evening. Especially Saturdays.
Youtube knew that I was hungry.
'OR CHIEN'
I also got to see someone preparing a Teochew-style Oyster Omelette (潮州蠔仔煎蛋 'chiu jau ho jai jin daan'), and Hokkien Fried Prawn Mee (炒福建蝦麵 'chaau fuk kin haa min'). Which really got my appetite up.
PS. Remember, everything with sambal.
都幾滿意。
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Showing posts with label 真好食. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 真好食. Show all posts
Saturday, June 08, 2019
Wednesday, June 05, 2019
A GREEN LEGUMINOUS ATTITUDE
He looked so sweet with the Disney Princess backpack on. It was big, it was heavy, and it was nearly the size of its owner, who was walking next to him. Late in the afternoon, Chinatown, Stockton Street near Broadway.
The neighborhood has changed. Many stores that used to thrive in that area no longer exist, and there are "for rent" signs in nearly every block.
On Polk Street in my neighborhood those are also common. Our landlords of street-level commercial space are misapprehending their prospects for getting rich off of the e-commerce boom. While quite forgetting that nearly everything can be purchased on-line, via handy apps. One of the few things for which people still walk into brick-and-mortars is a cellphone, that will enable them to then get anything they want internettally, with an app. Including their next and subsequent cell-phones.
Stockton Street in Chinatown, insofar as it thrives, does so with vegetables, prepared foods, hair salons, financial and translation services. Stuff for which the locals prefer live human interaction.
On Polk Street, it's booze and high-fat dinners.
Plus, naturally, the bottomless mimosa.
Vegetables purely as adjunct.
Rarely do I eat out on Polk Street, and since my doctors gave me a firm talking-to about my diet, the wonderful heaping platters at one of the few eateries I frequented have been entirely off limits. Intellectually I still appreciate cholesterol bombs. But in practice I abstain.
蔬菜類
"SO CHOI LEUI"
There are probably several hundred ways to prepare mustard stalks (芥菜 'gaai choi'), bitter melon (涼瓜 'leung gwaa'), or long beans (豆角 'dau gok') that do not involve mayonnaise. I know, that's incredible, huh?
Many of them are Cantonese home cooking style. So almost by definition not something for which many Caucasians are mentally equipped.
But that's okay, y'all can serve 'em with ranch dressing.
Please note that for mental comfort's sake, it may be best to think of 'pork' as also a vegetable. A "round waddling cabbage", or "pink bean".
Both doctors and vegetarians will like that.
Round waddling cabbage with eggs. Pink bean fried rice. Steamed ground round waddling cabbage with salt fish. Pink bean hash. Grilled lean round waddling cabbage with oysters. Barbecued pink bean over rice. Mustard green stirfried with garlic and thin-sliced round waddling cabbage.
Boiled tofu, on the other hand, is edible purely for Vegans.
In the real world it's a suitable replacement only for beef.
Serve it with lettuce, pickles, ketchup and mustard.
Some fake bacon on top for that extra taste.
Healthy! Vegan!
Yeah, I'm thinking about lunch again.
Possibly, I might have roast duck.
A loud feathery vegetable.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The neighborhood has changed. Many stores that used to thrive in that area no longer exist, and there are "for rent" signs in nearly every block.
On Polk Street in my neighborhood those are also common. Our landlords of street-level commercial space are misapprehending their prospects for getting rich off of the e-commerce boom. While quite forgetting that nearly everything can be purchased on-line, via handy apps. One of the few things for which people still walk into brick-and-mortars is a cellphone, that will enable them to then get anything they want internettally, with an app. Including their next and subsequent cell-phones.
Stockton Street in Chinatown, insofar as it thrives, does so with vegetables, prepared foods, hair salons, financial and translation services. Stuff for which the locals prefer live human interaction.
On Polk Street, it's booze and high-fat dinners.
Plus, naturally, the bottomless mimosa.
Vegetables purely as adjunct.
Rarely do I eat out on Polk Street, and since my doctors gave me a firm talking-to about my diet, the wonderful heaping platters at one of the few eateries I frequented have been entirely off limits. Intellectually I still appreciate cholesterol bombs. But in practice I abstain.
蔬菜類
"SO CHOI LEUI"
There are probably several hundred ways to prepare mustard stalks (芥菜 'gaai choi'), bitter melon (涼瓜 'leung gwaa'), or long beans (豆角 'dau gok') that do not involve mayonnaise. I know, that's incredible, huh?
Many of them are Cantonese home cooking style. So almost by definition not something for which many Caucasians are mentally equipped.
But that's okay, y'all can serve 'em with ranch dressing.
Please note that for mental comfort's sake, it may be best to think of 'pork' as also a vegetable. A "round waddling cabbage", or "pink bean".
Both doctors and vegetarians will like that.
Round waddling cabbage with eggs. Pink bean fried rice. Steamed ground round waddling cabbage with salt fish. Pink bean hash. Grilled lean round waddling cabbage with oysters. Barbecued pink bean over rice. Mustard green stirfried with garlic and thin-sliced round waddling cabbage.
Boiled tofu, on the other hand, is edible purely for Vegans.
In the real world it's a suitable replacement only for beef.
Serve it with lettuce, pickles, ketchup and mustard.
Some fake bacon on top for that extra taste.
Healthy! Vegan!
Yeah, I'm thinking about lunch again.
Possibly, I might have roast duck.
A loud feathery vegetable.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, April 13, 2019
CRICKET SOUNDS NEAR KAI TAK
One of the images of the past is of a colonial official posted in the jungles of South East Asia, refreshed from splashing water over his lean white body at the large ceramic vat out behind the bungalow, dressed in off-duty garb (no tie), reaching for the tin of Rattray's Tobacco to fill his pipe. The day is over, cook is preparing curry, cup of tea, London newspaper three months late.
Ah, cricket, I see.
He settles in the creaky chair for a good long smoke.
Whisps of fragrant Latakia drift slowly out into the undergrowth.
Something with scales slips into the river.
Insects chatter.
The bugs are loudest just before darkness, the chickens for the curry far away from Foster Farms are always scraggly and benefit from a long stew with ginger, lemon grass, turmeric, and coriander, the only milk for the tea comes in a tin (condensed), and there is as always too much European politics in the paper. One article about Germany, one about France.
But cricket, at least, is timeless. And universal.
[A lawyer I know just won't shut up about it. Parsees love cricket.]
When Adrian was stationed in Hong Kong, he never once mentioned cricket on Facebook. And the pipe tobacco he smoked three years ago seemed to be Dunhill's Elizabethan mixture, mornings in front of the office in Central.
There actually is cricket in Hong Kong. It's largely a subcontinental affair.
Babar Hayat. Aizaz Khan. Nizakat Khan. Anshuman Rath. Kinchit Shah.
In all honesty, I am very glad that he did not talk about cricket, or any sport, for that matter. When I worked with Indians I heard enough about that.
But he hardly mentioned food, either.
In. Hong Kong.
Probably the most Hong Kong dish EVER is Shanghai Pork Chop Noodles (炸猪扒湯麵 'jaa jyu baa tong min'). Breaded, deep fried, served with a bowl of noodles and soup with mustard greens. There is no actual connection with Shanghai that I know of, but many "Shanghai" restaurants on the island and in Kowloon offer it. Perhaps it's the noodles (Yangchun Noodle 陽春麵 'yeung chun min') which are not the usual Cantonese preference.
Yangchun Noodles are very Shanghai.
Easy, too. Slightly thicker than usual wheat noodles, served in a broth made very simply with a little soy sauce, and if you are feeling fancy pork bones and chicken stock. Otherwise just hot water, soy, and a spoonful of lard stirred in for mouth-feel. Chopped scallions or chives strewn on top.
One or two drops of sesame oil are optional.
Being totally unorthodox, and a kwailo to boot, I usually do this with Kwan Miao noodles (關廟麵 'kwaan miu min') plus bacon grease and olive oil.
Fried porkchops, chicken cutlets, short ribs; all good.
Wiener schnitzel (维也纳炸牛排) also can.
And add a squeeze of lemon juice.
It prevents kidney stones.
Also hot sauce, of course.
Must have a sambal.
Sriracha.
I think I'll open a tin of Rattray's tobacco soon. It's been a while.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Ah, cricket, I see.
He settles in the creaky chair for a good long smoke.
Whisps of fragrant Latakia drift slowly out into the undergrowth.
Something with scales slips into the river.
Insects chatter.
The bugs are loudest just before darkness, the chickens for the curry far away from Foster Farms are always scraggly and benefit from a long stew with ginger, lemon grass, turmeric, and coriander, the only milk for the tea comes in a tin (condensed), and there is as always too much European politics in the paper. One article about Germany, one about France.
But cricket, at least, is timeless. And universal.
[A lawyer I know just won't shut up about it. Parsees love cricket.]
When Adrian was stationed in Hong Kong, he never once mentioned cricket on Facebook. And the pipe tobacco he smoked three years ago seemed to be Dunhill's Elizabethan mixture, mornings in front of the office in Central.
There actually is cricket in Hong Kong. It's largely a subcontinental affair.
Babar Hayat. Aizaz Khan. Nizakat Khan. Anshuman Rath. Kinchit Shah.
In all honesty, I am very glad that he did not talk about cricket, or any sport, for that matter. When I worked with Indians I heard enough about that.
But he hardly mentioned food, either.
In. Hong Kong.
Probably the most Hong Kong dish EVER is Shanghai Pork Chop Noodles (炸猪扒湯麵 'jaa jyu baa tong min'). Breaded, deep fried, served with a bowl of noodles and soup with mustard greens. There is no actual connection with Shanghai that I know of, but many "Shanghai" restaurants on the island and in Kowloon offer it. Perhaps it's the noodles (Yangchun Noodle 陽春麵 'yeung chun min') which are not the usual Cantonese preference.
Yangchun Noodles are very Shanghai.
Easy, too. Slightly thicker than usual wheat noodles, served in a broth made very simply with a little soy sauce, and if you are feeling fancy pork bones and chicken stock. Otherwise just hot water, soy, and a spoonful of lard stirred in for mouth-feel. Chopped scallions or chives strewn on top.
One or two drops of sesame oil are optional.
Being totally unorthodox, and a kwailo to boot, I usually do this with Kwan Miao noodles (關廟麵 'kwaan miu min') plus bacon grease and olive oil.
Fried porkchops, chicken cutlets, short ribs; all good.
Wiener schnitzel (维也纳炸牛排) also can.
And add a squeeze of lemon juice.
It prevents kidney stones.
Also hot sauce, of course.
Must have a sambal.
Sriracha.
I think I'll open a tin of Rattray's tobacco soon. It's been a while.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, September 14, 2014
WHERE TO EAT IN CHINATOWN: FOUR RECOMMENDATIONS
Yesterday evening on the bus back from Marin several passengers asked the busdriver how they could get to Chinatown. Golden Gate Transit is a fount of information, but that isn't part of it. They'll get you to the city, but what you do then is something they will not think about.
So I verbally stepped in.
'Get off at Sacramento and Van Ness. Walk to the corner of Clay and Van Ness, take the Number One California across the hill. Get off at Stockton. And lo, you are there!'
Me: "So, what do you plan to do in Chinatown?"
Them: "Eat dinner, but we do not know where."
Me: "If I may, I have a number of suggestions...."
I had heard them speaking Mandarin all the way over, as they were sitting right behind me. My Mandarin is rather ramshackle, but I can write fairly decently.
三陽咖啡餐屋
SAN SUN RESTAURANT
['saam-yeung ka-fei chan-ok' *]
848 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
Telephone: 415-296-8228
Between Stockton and Grant, corner of Ross Alley
越華僑風味的粉湯與小食
Noodle-soup and small eats to the Sino-Viet taste
Yuè huáqiáo fēngwèi de fěn tāng yǔ xiǎoshí
['yuet-waa-kiu fung-mei dik fan-tong yue siu-sik']
You go here for noodles and unpretentious Viet-Chinese food, well done, tasty and interesting. Plus either Vietnamese coffee or milk-tea.
I often have the bittermelon and pork or chicken over rice, or the grilled pork strips and rice-stick noodles in soup, but there is a lot to choose from, and you really have to try to be dissatisfied.
Unless you are from the Midwest.
In which case it's easy.
* "three suns coffee dining room"
京都餐館
CAPITAL RESTAURANT
['king to tsan-kwun' *]
839 Clay Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
Telephone: 415-397-6269
Between Waverly Place and Hang Ah Alley
家庭式粵菜
Family-style Cantonese food
Jiātíng shì yuècài
['gaa-ting sik yuet-choi']
Salt and pepper chicken wings, whole steamed fish, crustaceans and shellfish, home style dishes, nicely stir-fried vegetables and the regular real Chinese restaurant standards, as well as rice-plates. Fish flavour eggplant (魚香茄子), fish and fresh vegetable (菜遠蘢利魚飯), or black bean bitter melon and fish (豆豉凉瓜魚片). Lo fo tong if you have a rice plate. Very popular with the Chinatown crowd, but Europeans are often baffled.
That's a common thing, by the way.
European bafflement.
* "metropolis dining establishment"
上海飯店
BUND SHANGHAI RESTAURANT
['seung-hoi fan-diem' *]
640 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133.
Telephone: 415-982-0618
Between Grant and Kearny
滬淮美食
Shanghainese and Huai beautiful eating
Hù huái měishí
['wu waai mei-sik']
Wu-Huai cuisine, very good. I highly recommend it for couples on a date, small family groups, and five or six friends who simply want some darn fine food at a darn fine place. The waitstaff is courteous and professional, the kitchen standards are extraordinarily high.
For Shanghainese exiles it's a breeze from home, but for this blogger it's where I get steamed dumplings (蒸的水餃子) when I absolutely must have steamed dumplings.
* "on sea rice shop"
嶺南小館
R & J LOUNGE
['ling naam siu gwun' *]
631 Kearny Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-982-7877
On the corner of Commercial, between Sacramento and Clay
最好的高品粵菜
Best high-grade Cantonese Cuisine
Zuì hǎo de gāo pǐn yuècài
['jeui-hou dik kou-pan yuet-choi']
Top-notch Cantonese food in a nice restaurant setting, probably the best you can find in Chinatown, maybe even the entire city. A very popular place, where you can also have an expertly crafted cocktail. Like all fine Cantonese dining establishments, they assume that you really want to order seafood, and get out of your shell culinarily. Unless you're from the Midwest or Europe, in which case you'll probably order the dishes you always get at your local take-out, and you'll be disappointed.
The Chinese regionymic handle of this establishment proudly advertises Cantonese. Which absolutely means fish and crustaceans.
* "high-passes south little establishment"
I sincerely hope that wherever they ended up, they ate very well. Judging by Yelp -- which exists primarily so that people who are always angry can slag businesses which made them more so -- there is nothing worth eating in Chinatown, and "my aunt from Hong Kong hated it".
Or maybe the aunt was from the Midwest.
I myself stayed in last night. I knew there was an evening ball game on, and consequently the place where I would normally go for a drink and conversation while smoking a pipe or two would be filled with screaming sportsfiends, and any discussion would be impossible.
Likely quite futile to attempt.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
So I verbally stepped in.
'Get off at Sacramento and Van Ness. Walk to the corner of Clay and Van Ness, take the Number One California across the hill. Get off at Stockton. And lo, you are there!'
Me: "So, what do you plan to do in Chinatown?"
Them: "Eat dinner, but we do not know where."
Me: "If I may, I have a number of suggestions...."
I had heard them speaking Mandarin all the way over, as they were sitting right behind me. My Mandarin is rather ramshackle, but I can write fairly decently.
三陽咖啡餐屋
SAN SUN RESTAURANT
['saam-yeung ka-fei chan-ok' *]
848 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
Telephone: 415-296-8228
Between Stockton and Grant, corner of Ross Alley
越華僑風味的粉湯與小食
Noodle-soup and small eats to the Sino-Viet taste
Yuè huáqiáo fēngwèi de fěn tāng yǔ xiǎoshí
['yuet-waa-kiu fung-mei dik fan-tong yue siu-sik']
You go here for noodles and unpretentious Viet-Chinese food, well done, tasty and interesting. Plus either Vietnamese coffee or milk-tea.
I often have the bittermelon and pork or chicken over rice, or the grilled pork strips and rice-stick noodles in soup, but there is a lot to choose from, and you really have to try to be dissatisfied.
Unless you are from the Midwest.
In which case it's easy.
* "three suns coffee dining room"
京都餐館
CAPITAL RESTAURANT
['king to tsan-kwun' *]
839 Clay Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
Telephone: 415-397-6269
Between Waverly Place and Hang Ah Alley
家庭式粵菜
Family-style Cantonese food
Jiātíng shì yuècài
['gaa-ting sik yuet-choi']
Salt and pepper chicken wings, whole steamed fish, crustaceans and shellfish, home style dishes, nicely stir-fried vegetables and the regular real Chinese restaurant standards, as well as rice-plates. Fish flavour eggplant (魚香茄子), fish and fresh vegetable (菜遠蘢利魚飯), or black bean bitter melon and fish (豆豉凉瓜魚片). Lo fo tong if you have a rice plate. Very popular with the Chinatown crowd, but Europeans are often baffled.
That's a common thing, by the way.
European bafflement.
* "metropolis dining establishment"
上海飯店
BUND SHANGHAI RESTAURANT
['seung-hoi fan-diem' *]
640 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94133.
Telephone: 415-982-0618
Between Grant and Kearny
滬淮美食
Shanghainese and Huai beautiful eating
Hù huái měishí
['wu waai mei-sik']
Wu-Huai cuisine, very good. I highly recommend it for couples on a date, small family groups, and five or six friends who simply want some darn fine food at a darn fine place. The waitstaff is courteous and professional, the kitchen standards are extraordinarily high.
For Shanghainese exiles it's a breeze from home, but for this blogger it's where I get steamed dumplings (蒸的水餃子) when I absolutely must have steamed dumplings.
* "on sea rice shop"
嶺南小館
R & J LOUNGE
['ling naam siu gwun' *]
631 Kearny Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-982-7877
On the corner of Commercial, between Sacramento and Clay
最好的高品粵菜
Best high-grade Cantonese Cuisine
Zuì hǎo de gāo pǐn yuècài
['jeui-hou dik kou-pan yuet-choi']
Top-notch Cantonese food in a nice restaurant setting, probably the best you can find in Chinatown, maybe even the entire city. A very popular place, where you can also have an expertly crafted cocktail. Like all fine Cantonese dining establishments, they assume that you really want to order seafood, and get out of your shell culinarily. Unless you're from the Midwest or Europe, in which case you'll probably order the dishes you always get at your local take-out, and you'll be disappointed.
The Chinese regionymic handle of this establishment proudly advertises Cantonese. Which absolutely means fish and crustaceans.
* "high-passes south little establishment"
I sincerely hope that wherever they ended up, they ate very well. Judging by Yelp -- which exists primarily so that people who are always angry can slag businesses which made them more so -- there is nothing worth eating in Chinatown, and "my aunt from Hong Kong hated it".
Or maybe the aunt was from the Midwest.
I myself stayed in last night. I knew there was an evening ball game on, and consequently the place where I would normally go for a drink and conversation while smoking a pipe or two would be filled with screaming sportsfiends, and any discussion would be impossible.
Likely quite futile to attempt.
==========================================================================
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.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
COFFEE, TEA, AND CONDENSED MILK: 飲間天堂
This man loves fried noodles. Seriously. During the weekend I went over to the Washington Cafe and ordered a plate of mixed seafood fried noodles. Shrimp and squidly bits with green onion and beansprouts over thin wheaten strands. Actually, not over; but in.
Decadent with a ton of hot sauce.
I'm a pig.
I enjoyed my meal.
Delicious!
文記茶餐廳 MAN KEE CHA CHAN-TENG
The Washington Cafe is where the old Upholding Heaven (擎天酒樓) used to be. Since it became a cha chanteng I've been going there nearly every month for food of which the doctor would disapprove. You know, HK teashop chow. They've got macaroni, baked pork chop on rice, salmon steak, and spaghetti (意粉) a la Hongkongaise. Plus fried stuff. And rice plates, stuff with Portugee sauce, soup.
Oh, and a ton of more acceptably Chinese stuff too.
Plus crustaceans.
WASHINGTON CAFE
826 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-398-1299
Yeah, no, it's not the Man Kee Cha Chanteng near Diamond Hill (鑽石山 'chuen sek saan') in Kowloon (九龍 'kau lung'), directly north as the crow flies from Kai Tak and Kowloon Bay (啟德、九龍灣). That one's located at 31 Yuk Wah Crescent (毓華里), near Yuk Wah Street (毓華街). Between Po Kong Village (蒲崗村) and Tsz Wan Shan (慈雲山), so it should be clear how to get there. Just a short walk from the shopping centre.
The Washington Cafe in San Francisco is at the north end of Waverly (天后廟街), on the block between Grant (都板街) and Stockton (市德頓街).
Also walking distance from somewhere.
And easy to get to.
正宗絲襪奶茶 JENG JONG SI-MAT NAAI-CHA
A cha chanteng (茶餐廳) is halfway between a convenient eatery and a place with affordable satisfying snackfood. The institution originated in Hong Kong after the war, and at the time offered primarily quick stuff that would revive the working man and get him back out on the construction site or at his factory shift. Over time the menus became more eclectic, and many of them practically invented Hong Kong western food (豉油西餐).
But at all stages, from early beginning till now, serving milk tea (奶茶 'naai cha', 港式奶茶 'gong-sik naai cha', 香港奶茶 'heung gong naai cha'), yuen-yeung (鴛鴦) or mandarin ducks (coffee and tea mixed together, more milk-tea than coffee), Ovaltine (阿華田), and Horlicks (好立克).
All of which taste much better with condensed milk (煉奶).
Plus lemon tea with honey syrup and lots of lemon.
You can also get toast at such places.
It's very civilized.
Yesterday I fried up noodles and green chili peppers plus meat and egg, with lots of shredded ginger, before going out to do my laundry.
Afterwards I had a cup of half coffee and milk-tea.
Perhaps not as good as at the Man Kee.
I'll have to ask them if they can do 蕃茄豬扒 over 意粉.
I'm sure they can.
Their milk tea is very good.
非常好。
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Decadent with a ton of hot sauce.
I'm a pig.
I enjoyed my meal.
Delicious!
文記茶餐廳 MAN KEE CHA CHAN-TENG
The Washington Cafe is where the old Upholding Heaven (擎天酒樓) used to be. Since it became a cha chanteng I've been going there nearly every month for food of which the doctor would disapprove. You know, HK teashop chow. They've got macaroni, baked pork chop on rice, salmon steak, and spaghetti (意粉) a la Hongkongaise. Plus fried stuff. And rice plates, stuff with Portugee sauce, soup.
Oh, and a ton of more acceptably Chinese stuff too.
Plus crustaceans.
WASHINGTON CAFE
826 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-398-1299
Yeah, no, it's not the Man Kee Cha Chanteng near Diamond Hill (鑽石山 'chuen sek saan') in Kowloon (九龍 'kau lung'), directly north as the crow flies from Kai Tak and Kowloon Bay (啟德、九龍灣). That one's located at 31 Yuk Wah Crescent (毓華里), near Yuk Wah Street (毓華街). Between Po Kong Village (蒲崗村) and Tsz Wan Shan (慈雲山), so it should be clear how to get there. Just a short walk from the shopping centre.
The Washington Cafe in San Francisco is at the north end of Waverly (天后廟街), on the block between Grant (都板街) and Stockton (市德頓街).
Also walking distance from somewhere.
And easy to get to.
正宗絲襪奶茶 JENG JONG SI-MAT NAAI-CHA
A cha chanteng (茶餐廳) is halfway between a convenient eatery and a place with affordable satisfying snackfood. The institution originated in Hong Kong after the war, and at the time offered primarily quick stuff that would revive the working man and get him back out on the construction site or at his factory shift. Over time the menus became more eclectic, and many of them practically invented Hong Kong western food (豉油西餐).
But at all stages, from early beginning till now, serving milk tea (奶茶 'naai cha', 港式奶茶 'gong-sik naai cha', 香港奶茶 'heung gong naai cha'), yuen-yeung (鴛鴦) or mandarin ducks (coffee and tea mixed together, more milk-tea than coffee), Ovaltine (阿華田), and Horlicks (好立克).
All of which taste much better with condensed milk (煉奶).
Plus lemon tea with honey syrup and lots of lemon.
You can also get toast at such places.
It's very civilized.
Yesterday I fried up noodles and green chili peppers plus meat and egg, with lots of shredded ginger, before going out to do my laundry.
Afterwards I had a cup of half coffee and milk-tea.
Perhaps not as good as at the Man Kee.
I'll have to ask them if they can do 蕃茄豬扒 over 意粉.
I'm sure they can.
Their milk tea is very good.
非常好。
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, April 02, 2014
HAVING HEART: A CANTONESE FOOD THING
There are several eateries in Chinatown that I shall not name, even though I enjoy everything that they do. The reason being that I live in San Francisco, where there are more vicious foodsnobs than anywhere else on the planet; savage, unforgiving, sneering, and superficial know-it-alls with little decency and overweening senses of superiority and entitlement.
The places I like may be too humble for this city.
I've read Yelp; it's a frikking zoo.
Meanspirited.
I am proud to admit that I like small dumpy places which do a damned fine job on simple comfort food, wipe the tables a little less often when they're swamped, eat their own cooking, and offer a more than decent value for five dollars or less.
They take far less pride in their menu than they should.
And cater to an audience which values them.
None of San Francisco's vast herd of foodies would write glowingly about steamed pork patty, which is sometimes exactly what the doctor ordered.
A simple home-style dish, unconsciously beloved. The people who know about it won't order it when they're entertaining guests, honored relatives, or out-of-town visitors. And I seriously doubt Mandarin-speakers or techno-yuppies would even touch it.
Flattened lump of ground meat. Ja choi, haahm yü, or haahm daan on top.
Some shredded ginger. Steamed for ten minutes. No sense of presentation, just plonked onto the table with an extra plate placed underneath so you don't blister your fingers on the hot hot porcelain.
You break it apart with your chopsticks.
Heavenly with hot sauce.
Okay, that last bit is my own preference. I tend toward a fair amount of hot sauce, but most Cantonese will eschew chilies.
Equally unprepossessing is steamed slickened chicken: jing gwat kai. Chicken cut up, rubbed with cornstarch and a little rice wine, steamed till done. You may add softened black mushrooms, a piece of lahp cheung and some ginger, or even diverse flavourful dried ingredients to the steaming plate for extra excitement. Very home style, very good.
Very unsnobbish.
Yes, I suppose you could make it presentable to the culinary whores; some cilantro, a tomato rosette, and an exquisite selection of baby vegetables artfully carved, on a rectangular stoneware platter.
Served in a dining room with a hip colour scheme, ethnic funk in the background, and tablecloths.
If you did that, the yelping classes would wax utterly poetic.
High quality adjectives would be brought into play.
Someone would recall rafting the Ganges.
And state that is was "so real".
Authoritatively.
乜都好食！
Frankly, I much prefer places where I can go dressed all rumpily, greet the aunties who work there, and be asked "ney oi matyeh, ah-suh?" Lunch counters where one demands to know "matyeh dak bit ge?", "go hai san-sin ge ma?", "yau mou fu-gwa?", "geung si lei gei yiuk?"
The type of place that tells you "nei ji-gei jam, hah" when you also order a cup of coffee from the canteen-style machine, in which there is a beverage of industrial origin.
Yiu di lou fo tong?
Obviously, if I named those restaurants, and praised their food effusively, some of the people who see my blog would wonder if I had lost it. Why, there's nothing worthwhile there, it's just a grotty Chinatown dump! The food is below mediocre, especially compared to what we had on a starlit night in Soochow, after visiting the museum! Those chairs are SO ugly!
You know, real Chinese food is far better.
It's an ancient art form.
So meaningful.
Not this.
COLLOQUIPENDUM
Steamed pork patty: 蒸肉餅 jing yiuk beng. Ja choi: 榨菜 spicy pressed mustard stem pickle. Haahm yü: 咸魚 salt fish. Haahm daan: 鹹蛋 salt egg. Shredded ginger: 姜絲 geung si; mispronounced, this sounds the same as 're-animated corpse' (殭屍). Hot sauce: 辣醬 laat jeung. Chilies: 辣椒 laat jiu. Steamed slickened chicken: 蒸滑雞 jing gwat kai. Cornstarch: 玉米淀粉 yuk mai din fan. Rice wine: 米酒 mai jau. Black mushrooms: 冬菇 dong gu. Lahp cheung: 臘腸 dried pork sausage. Ginger: 薑、姜 geung. Home style food: 家鄉菜 gaa heung choi.
Dining room with a hip colour scheme, ethnic funk in the background, and tablecloths: 鬼勢利嘅臭裝飾 gwai sai lei ge chau jong sik.
Ney oi matyeh? 你爱乜嘢？ what would you like? Mat ye dak bit ge? 乜嘢特别嘅？ what is special (today)? Go hai san sin ge maa? 嗰係新鮮嘅嘛？ is that fresh? Yau mou fu gwa? 有冇苦瓜？ got any bitter melon? Geung si lei gei yiuk: 姜絲裡肌肉 marinated pork loin frazzled with shredded ginger and rice wine, very delicious! Nei ji gei jam, hah? 你自己斟，吓？ pour it yourself, okay? Yiu di lou fo tong? 要啲老火湯？ ya wanna bowl of soup (with your meal)?
["Your darn right I want some soup!"]
Nei yau sam.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The places I like may be too humble for this city.
I've read Yelp; it's a frikking zoo.
Meanspirited.
I am proud to admit that I like small dumpy places which do a damned fine job on simple comfort food, wipe the tables a little less often when they're swamped, eat their own cooking, and offer a more than decent value for five dollars or less.
They take far less pride in their menu than they should.
And cater to an audience which values them.
None of San Francisco's vast herd of foodies would write glowingly about steamed pork patty, which is sometimes exactly what the doctor ordered.
A simple home-style dish, unconsciously beloved. The people who know about it won't order it when they're entertaining guests, honored relatives, or out-of-town visitors. And I seriously doubt Mandarin-speakers or techno-yuppies would even touch it.
Flattened lump of ground meat. Ja choi, haahm yü, or haahm daan on top.
Some shredded ginger. Steamed for ten minutes. No sense of presentation, just plonked onto the table with an extra plate placed underneath so you don't blister your fingers on the hot hot porcelain.
You break it apart with your chopsticks.
Heavenly with hot sauce.
Okay, that last bit is my own preference. I tend toward a fair amount of hot sauce, but most Cantonese will eschew chilies.
Equally unprepossessing is steamed slickened chicken: jing gwat kai. Chicken cut up, rubbed with cornstarch and a little rice wine, steamed till done. You may add softened black mushrooms, a piece of lahp cheung and some ginger, or even diverse flavourful dried ingredients to the steaming plate for extra excitement. Very home style, very good.
Very unsnobbish.
Yes, I suppose you could make it presentable to the culinary whores; some cilantro, a tomato rosette, and an exquisite selection of baby vegetables artfully carved, on a rectangular stoneware platter.
Served in a dining room with a hip colour scheme, ethnic funk in the background, and tablecloths.
If you did that, the yelping classes would wax utterly poetic.
High quality adjectives would be brought into play.
Someone would recall rafting the Ganges.
And state that is was "so real".
Authoritatively.
乜都好食！
Frankly, I much prefer places where I can go dressed all rumpily, greet the aunties who work there, and be asked "ney oi matyeh, ah-suh?" Lunch counters where one demands to know "matyeh dak bit ge?", "go hai san-sin ge ma?", "yau mou fu-gwa?", "geung si lei gei yiuk?"
The type of place that tells you "nei ji-gei jam, hah" when you also order a cup of coffee from the canteen-style machine, in which there is a beverage of industrial origin.
Yiu di lou fo tong?
Obviously, if I named those restaurants, and praised their food effusively, some of the people who see my blog would wonder if I had lost it. Why, there's nothing worthwhile there, it's just a grotty Chinatown dump! The food is below mediocre, especially compared to what we had on a starlit night in Soochow, after visiting the museum! Those chairs are SO ugly!
You know, real Chinese food is far better.
It's an ancient art form.
So meaningful.
Not this.
COLLOQUIPENDUM
Steamed pork patty: 蒸肉餅 jing yiuk beng. Ja choi: 榨菜 spicy pressed mustard stem pickle. Haahm yü: 咸魚 salt fish. Haahm daan: 鹹蛋 salt egg. Shredded ginger: 姜絲 geung si; mispronounced, this sounds the same as 're-animated corpse' (殭屍). Hot sauce: 辣醬 laat jeung. Chilies: 辣椒 laat jiu. Steamed slickened chicken: 蒸滑雞 jing gwat kai. Cornstarch: 玉米淀粉 yuk mai din fan. Rice wine: 米酒 mai jau. Black mushrooms: 冬菇 dong gu. Lahp cheung: 臘腸 dried pork sausage. Ginger: 薑、姜 geung. Home style food: 家鄉菜 gaa heung choi.
Dining room with a hip colour scheme, ethnic funk in the background, and tablecloths: 鬼勢利嘅臭裝飾 gwai sai lei ge chau jong sik.
Ney oi matyeh? 你爱乜嘢？ what would you like? Mat ye dak bit ge? 乜嘢特别嘅？ what is special (today)? Go hai san sin ge maa? 嗰係新鮮嘅嘛？ is that fresh? Yau mou fu gwa? 有冇苦瓜？ got any bitter melon? Geung si lei gei yiuk: 姜絲裡肌肉 marinated pork loin frazzled with shredded ginger and rice wine, very delicious! Nei ji gei jam, hah? 你自己斟，吓？ pour it yourself, okay? Yiu di lou fo tong? 要啲老火湯？ ya wanna bowl of soup (with your meal)?
["Your darn right I want some soup!"]
Nei yau sam.
==========================================================================
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.
==========================================================================
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.
==========================================================================
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.
==========================================================================
Monday, April 15, 2013
BUT IS IT AUTHENTIC? THE DOUBLE-STANDARD
The other day I was stuffing my face with various goodies, when I was conversationally addressed by an elderly woman from upstate New York. She remarked how very unusual it was to hear a white man speaking Cantonese ("just enough to get the food I want, ma'am"), and guessed that the dimsum was pretty authentic. After all, most of the customers were Chinese.
Well, yes.
White people are scared of food.
But what if this was the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Peking?
No one asks whether classic junkfood is "authentic", or ventures the authenticity judgement over a steak place. Even if all the kitchen staff are from Mexico City and its environs, that may be the best darn porterhouse you ever had. The waiter, by the way, is from Jalisco, and the Maitre D' is a Turk.
Chinese restaurants, however, get the eagle-eyed appraisal.
"Is it authentic?"
I can understand that query if the menu contains mostly white folks Chinese food, like sweet and sour pork with pineapple and ketchup, shrimp fried rice (with ham, egg, carrots, and peas), brown rice, multiple kung pao objects, and absolutely anything Hunanese.
Hunanese food in the United States is often a code-phrase that means "Hi, we're Cantonese, and remarkably we can't cook worth crap, so we're calling ourselves something else.... Italian was already taken".
Same goes for palatial places serving the finest Peking food.
Szechuanese is marginally better.
But if a restaurant is staffed by Cantonese, there's a very good chance that something there is 'authentic'. Even if only to feed the weary traveler from HK, desperate for any thing that isn't deep-fried and drenched with sweet Caucasian gloop.
White people often think that if the decor is pretty nice, then the food in a Chinese restaurant cannot be any good. Or, if there are only white people eating there, it isn't "real Chinese food".
This is a somewhat simplistic approach.
Not all cheap greasy joints are authentic. Some still cater mostly to white people, but the locals who actually get food there do not order the same things. And a really nicely appointed restaurant may also take pride in the talent of the kitchen and the professionalism of their staff.
The question should not be "is it authentic", but "is it honest". If the food is appetizing, the people who run it are hard-working, and the prices seem appropriate to the selection and the neighborhood, it's authentic. Even if they're running an Italian diner in the outer Richmond.
Other than baffled white people, the other group that questions authenticity are Chinese who are not (or no longer) 'Chinatown', but more prosperous and acclimatized. Either escapees who have been here long enough, or Taiwanese with a mega chip on their shoulders. And usually very much English speaking, often outsiders. They'll sneer that real dimsum only uses certain ingredients, that the best Chinese cuisine is in Taipei, or that Hong Kong has food so much better that nothing here even compares, and certainly NOT this slop that the C'town dives are dishing up.
Why, this roast duck is only fit for peasants!
Remarkably, that's EXACTLY who is eating it. And enjoying it immensely, too. Real authentic peasants! From somewhere in the authentic peasant hinterlands of Canton province, and I'm guessing that you authentically have relatives like that. Authentessentially.
Their food is also authentic.
The duck is fine.
It might be fake if they cooked Peking seethed fish (軟炸魚).
Or Shanghainese eel with scallions (爆炒鱓絲).
Unless they did a marvelous job.
Did you get something you liked?
Did you leave happy?
That's it.
金華點心快餐 KAM WA DIM SAM FAAI CHAN
YUMMY DIM SUM & FAST FOOD, LLC.
930 Stockton Street, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
This place does dimsummy things, nothing fancy, and a few bakery items. Most of their customers either come for lunch or wander in for a quick snack. They also do two types of rice porridge -- yu pin juk (魚片粥 fish curls congee) and pei dan sau yiuk juk (皮蛋瘦肉粥 preserved egg and lean pork congee) -- plus decent yau tiu (油條 deep-fried puff-dough stick). But the main draw is the selection of cheap filling lunch items, three over rice for a very low price. Frequently they are stressed out. Especially by Germans and Midwesterners who come in, look at everything, ask incomprehensible questions, take up time, and leave after buying one soda to split among half a dozen very large white bodies.
富祥點心 FUK CHEUNG DIM SAM
NEW FORTUNE DIM SUM & COFFEE SHOP
815 Stockton Street, between Sacramento and Clay.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
A small hole in the wall run by people who speak Toishanese and hardly anything else. Their chicken buns (雞飽 'gai bau') are a favourite of mine, and I'll often head in for some shrimp bonnets (蝦餃 'haa gau') and open pork dumplings (燒賣 'siu mai'). If they've run out of chicken buns I'll have the choi yuk bau (菜肉飽). Sometimes just a fried sweet sesame ball (煎堆 'jin deui') with a cup of coffee is all I need. Judging by the number of people who come in, know exactly what they want, and leave satisfied, this is the place. Except for white people, who are often confused, and intimidated by a short woman gently asking them what they want.
多好茶室 DO HOU CHAA SAT
DOL HO
808 Pacific Avenue, just up from Stockton.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A madhouse, with excellent black bean spare ribs and rice (豆豉排骨蒸飯 'dau si pai gwat tsing fan'). Their stuffed eggplant (釀矮瓜 'yeung ngai gwa') is also good, so are their meat balls (牛肉球 'ngau yuk kau'). Some people go here just for the stewed chicken feet (鳳爪 'fung jau'), but you should also have the shrimp-stuffed green bell pepper (蝦膠釀青椒 'haa gau yeung tsing chiu').
I am very very fond of their stuffed tofu skin roll (腐皮捲 'fu pei kuen'), by the way.
You can ask for any of these things, or wait for someone to come barreling out of the kitchen pushing a cart.
Strictly dimsum.
城景 SING KING
CITY VIEW RESTAURANT
662 Commercial Street, between Kearny and Montgomery.
San Francisco, CA 94111.
Good place to take the relatives. Clean, high quality, and pretty darn good. Dimsum. A restaurant for people with whom you feel comfortable, and whom you want to feed. They'll be happy.
幸福餅家 HANG FUK BENG KAA
BLOSSOM BAKERY
133 Waverly Place, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
American coffee, Chinese pastries, and a timeless atmosphere. Local folks come here, including some of the more eccentric, who may not have entirely understood the realities of life. The prices are low, and the selection is not particularly extensive. It's our kind of shop, very home-town. Do not expect too much, but just enjoy it for what it is. Which is a nice place to hang out and day-dream, or listen in on other people gossiping. You might also just read the newspaper, with some milk tea (奶茶 'naai chaa') and a lotus-seed pastry (蓮蓉餅 'lin-yong bing'), a red bean pastry (豆沙餠 'dau sa bing'), or a a wife-cookie (老婆餠 'lo-poh bing'). Relax.
人仁西餅麵包 YAN YAN SAI BENG MIN BAAU
YUMMY BAKERY & CAFÉ
607 Jackson Street, near Kearny.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A vast selection of Chinese pastries, many somewhat western in inspiration. They do very good stuff here, and they also have coffee, but only three tables. I have listed their entire range in this post: YUMMY. If there's time, sit down and have a snack. Otherwise buy a lot and take it home.
Are these places 'authentic'? Yes, I guess so. I'm happy when I leave, as are the other customers. That's because we know what we want, and have no unrealistic expectations.
It's Chinatown. People live here and eat in the neighborhood.
Prices are reasonable, and the selection suits the locals.
Please don't forget to tip very generously.
More than anything else, that's authentic.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Well, yes.
White people are scared of food.
But what if this was the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Peking?
No one asks whether classic junkfood is "authentic", or ventures the authenticity judgement over a steak place. Even if all the kitchen staff are from Mexico City and its environs, that may be the best darn porterhouse you ever had. The waiter, by the way, is from Jalisco, and the Maitre D' is a Turk.
Chinese restaurants, however, get the eagle-eyed appraisal.
"Is it authentic?"
I can understand that query if the menu contains mostly white folks Chinese food, like sweet and sour pork with pineapple and ketchup, shrimp fried rice (with ham, egg, carrots, and peas), brown rice, multiple kung pao objects, and absolutely anything Hunanese.
Hunanese food in the United States is often a code-phrase that means "Hi, we're Cantonese, and remarkably we can't cook worth crap, so we're calling ourselves something else.... Italian was already taken".
Same goes for palatial places serving the finest Peking food.
Szechuanese is marginally better.
But if a restaurant is staffed by Cantonese, there's a very good chance that something there is 'authentic'. Even if only to feed the weary traveler from HK, desperate for any thing that isn't deep-fried and drenched with sweet Caucasian gloop.
White people often think that if the decor is pretty nice, then the food in a Chinese restaurant cannot be any good. Or, if there are only white people eating there, it isn't "real Chinese food".
This is a somewhat simplistic approach.
Not all cheap greasy joints are authentic. Some still cater mostly to white people, but the locals who actually get food there do not order the same things. And a really nicely appointed restaurant may also take pride in the talent of the kitchen and the professionalism of their staff.
The question should not be "is it authentic", but "is it honest". If the food is appetizing, the people who run it are hard-working, and the prices seem appropriate to the selection and the neighborhood, it's authentic. Even if they're running an Italian diner in the outer Richmond.
Other than baffled white people, the other group that questions authenticity are Chinese who are not (or no longer) 'Chinatown', but more prosperous and acclimatized. Either escapees who have been here long enough, or Taiwanese with a mega chip on their shoulders. And usually very much English speaking, often outsiders. They'll sneer that real dimsum only uses certain ingredients, that the best Chinese cuisine is in Taipei, or that Hong Kong has food so much better that nothing here even compares, and certainly NOT this slop that the C'town dives are dishing up.
Why, this roast duck is only fit for peasants!
Remarkably, that's EXACTLY who is eating it. And enjoying it immensely, too. Real authentic peasants! From somewhere in the authentic peasant hinterlands of Canton province, and I'm guessing that you authentically have relatives like that. Authentessentially.
Their food is also authentic.
The duck is fine.
It might be fake if they cooked Peking seethed fish (軟炸魚).
Or Shanghainese eel with scallions (爆炒鱓絲).
Unless they did a marvelous job.
Did you get something you liked?
Did you leave happy?
That's it.
金華點心快餐 KAM WA DIM SAM FAAI CHAN
YUMMY DIM SUM & FAST FOOD, LLC.
930 Stockton Street, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
This place does dimsummy things, nothing fancy, and a few bakery items. Most of their customers either come for lunch or wander in for a quick snack. They also do two types of rice porridge -- yu pin juk (魚片粥 fish curls congee) and pei dan sau yiuk juk (皮蛋瘦肉粥 preserved egg and lean pork congee) -- plus decent yau tiu (油條 deep-fried puff-dough stick). But the main draw is the selection of cheap filling lunch items, three over rice for a very low price. Frequently they are stressed out. Especially by Germans and Midwesterners who come in, look at everything, ask incomprehensible questions, take up time, and leave after buying one soda to split among half a dozen very large white bodies.
富祥點心 FUK CHEUNG DIM SAM
NEW FORTUNE DIM SUM & COFFEE SHOP
815 Stockton Street, between Sacramento and Clay.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
A small hole in the wall run by people who speak Toishanese and hardly anything else. Their chicken buns (雞飽 'gai bau') are a favourite of mine, and I'll often head in for some shrimp bonnets (蝦餃 'haa gau') and open pork dumplings (燒賣 'siu mai'). If they've run out of chicken buns I'll have the choi yuk bau (菜肉飽). Sometimes just a fried sweet sesame ball (煎堆 'jin deui') with a cup of coffee is all I need. Judging by the number of people who come in, know exactly what they want, and leave satisfied, this is the place. Except for white people, who are often confused, and intimidated by a short woman gently asking them what they want.
多好茶室 DO HOU CHAA SAT
DOL HO
808 Pacific Avenue, just up from Stockton.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A madhouse, with excellent black bean spare ribs and rice (豆豉排骨蒸飯 'dau si pai gwat tsing fan'). Their stuffed eggplant (釀矮瓜 'yeung ngai gwa') is also good, so are their meat balls (牛肉球 'ngau yuk kau'). Some people go here just for the stewed chicken feet (鳳爪 'fung jau'), but you should also have the shrimp-stuffed green bell pepper (蝦膠釀青椒 'haa gau yeung tsing chiu').
I am very very fond of their stuffed tofu skin roll (腐皮捲 'fu pei kuen'), by the way.
You can ask for any of these things, or wait for someone to come barreling out of the kitchen pushing a cart.
Strictly dimsum.
城景 SING KING
CITY VIEW RESTAURANT
662 Commercial Street, between Kearny and Montgomery.
San Francisco, CA 94111.
Good place to take the relatives. Clean, high quality, and pretty darn good. Dimsum. A restaurant for people with whom you feel comfortable, and whom you want to feed. They'll be happy.
幸福餅家 HANG FUK BENG KAA
BLOSSOM BAKERY
133 Waverly Place, between Clay and Washington.
San Francisco, CA 94108.
American coffee, Chinese pastries, and a timeless atmosphere. Local folks come here, including some of the more eccentric, who may not have entirely understood the realities of life. The prices are low, and the selection is not particularly extensive. It's our kind of shop, very home-town. Do not expect too much, but just enjoy it for what it is. Which is a nice place to hang out and day-dream, or listen in on other people gossiping. You might also just read the newspaper, with some milk tea (奶茶 'naai chaa') and a lotus-seed pastry (蓮蓉餅 'lin-yong bing'), a red bean pastry (豆沙餠 'dau sa bing'), or a a wife-cookie (老婆餠 'lo-poh bing'). Relax.
人仁西餅麵包 YAN YAN SAI BENG MIN BAAU
YUMMY BAKERY & CAFÉ
607 Jackson Street, near Kearny.
San Francisco, CA 94133.
A vast selection of Chinese pastries, many somewhat western in inspiration. They do very good stuff here, and they also have coffee, but only three tables. I have listed their entire range in this post: YUMMY. If there's time, sit down and have a snack. Otherwise buy a lot and take it home.
Are these places 'authentic'? Yes, I guess so. I'm happy when I leave, as are the other customers. That's because we know what we want, and have no unrealistic expectations.
It's Chinatown. People live here and eat in the neighborhood.
Prices are reasonable, and the selection suits the locals.
Please don't forget to tip very generously.
More than anything else, that's authentic.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, February 23, 2013
SUDDEN CHINESE DINNER
The past few days I have been thinking about food. In hot juicy detail. It's far better than sex, and can be shared with more people. The same, obviously, goes for talking about the subject. Though if you wish to take this blogpost as a lascivious leer or soft romantic smile from a stranger, go right ahead.
I shall not stop you. Please also imagine me as talk dark and handsome while you're at it.
[Full literary disclosure: in complete contrast to the imagined hot and hunky stranger above, the actual blogger here is five foot eight and a half, of a rather Caucasian hue in general, with a trim beard and moustache which are distressingly more salt than pepper. Streaks of silver in the hair at the temples. Middle-aged -- handsomely mature by his own dodderingly misguided reckoning, but probably a super-annuated old fossil in the eyes of anyone under thirty -- and much more like a scholarly gnome or distant relative of Gandalf than the studly vampire lover of your fantasies.]
Now, while you are looking all blurfle-eyed and blushing, day-dreaming of the eternally youthful hero of Twilight or the vibrant and sweating habitués of The Raven in Toronto, amid scenes of pounding music, I shall describe some dishes I haven't made in quite a long while, as I seldom cook anymore.
But they would go well together at a small dinner.
薑蔥炆雞丁GEUNG-CHUNG MAN KAI DING
Ginger-scallion simmered chicken chunks
One pound chicken on the bone, whacked into chopstickable pieces.
Three scallions, sectioned.
Sliced ginger.
4 TBS sherry.
2 TBS soy sauce.
1 TBS sugar.
Wash and dry chicken, dust with a teaspoon of cornflour, add a dash of oil and toss to coat. Stirfry in scant oil to firm up. Decant temporarily to a plate.
Sauté ginger and scallion till fragrant, add chicken to the pan along with the sherry, soy sauce, sugar, and a splash of water. Simmer on low for ten to fifteen minutes.
Put in a shallow bowl to serve.
炸汁蝦 JAA JAP HAA
Fried sauced shrimp
One pound of medium prawns.
Three scallions, chopped.
A little minced ginger.
Two TBS sherry.
One Tsp. sugar.
A little hot chili paste.
Pinches of salt and ground white pepper.
Drops of sesame oil.
Batter:
One egg white.
One TBS cornflour.
Rip off the legs of the prawns, de-shell, and remove the vein. Rinse, dry. Whisk the egg white and cornflour smooth, dip the prawns, and deep fry in hot oil till golden. Note that if you have a wok, this will require less oil and be easier to do. Remove and drain on paper towels.
Sauté ginger and scallion till fragrant. Add the sherry, sugar, chili paste, pinches and drops, plus a little water. Cook till it starts to become glazy, add the prawns, and toss to coat.
Decant onto a plate.
鹹魚炆豬肉 HAAHM YÜ MAN CHÜ YIUK
Salt fish and fatty pork in clay pot
One pound of streaky belly pork (naam yiuk 腩肉).
Less than a fifth that amount salt fish, judged by eye.
Four or five whole shallots, peeled.
Four or five cloves garlic, left whole.
Some sliced ginger.
Quarter cup sherry.
One TBS fish sauce (yü lou 魚露).
One TBS sugar.
Blanch the pork whole fully till firmed up, drain and rinse under cold water. Dry it, and cut it into chunks. Soak and drain the salt fish, dice it small. And note that it is supposed to be a contributing flavour, not a dominant ingredient. Fry the pork with the ginger and whole garlic cloves till slightly golden, and decant to a clay pot.
Fry the dried fish similarly and add to the clay pot. Put the shallots in also, add the sherry, fish sauce, and sugar, and half a cup of water. Put the clay pot on low heat, and simmer gently for one and a half hours.
Before taking it off the flame, stir in a handfull of spinach leaves to wilt.
NOTE: Regarding the salt fish, it is best to use specimens which are solid, firm, and entirely unfermented (sat yiuk haahm yü 實肉鹹魚).
But these may be very hard to find in C'town.
By far the most common types of dried fish (described as "moldy perfume salt fish" - mui heung haahm yü 霉香鹹魚) are fully fermented products, delicious and perfect for eating during warm weather, which have been implicated in a higher incidence of naso-pharyngeal cancers in Southern China.
Cantonese people love that scrumptious salty-fishy taste, and consume more of it than anyone else (you knew there was a reason why you liked their food).
If you don't have any dried fish in your larder, you can modify the recipe above by using shrimp paste (haahm haa jeung 鹹蝦醬) instead.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I shall not stop you. Please also imagine me as talk dark and handsome while you're at it.
[Full literary disclosure: in complete contrast to the imagined hot and hunky stranger above, the actual blogger here is five foot eight and a half, of a rather Caucasian hue in general, with a trim beard and moustache which are distressingly more salt than pepper. Streaks of silver in the hair at the temples. Middle-aged -- handsomely mature by his own dodderingly misguided reckoning, but probably a super-annuated old fossil in the eyes of anyone under thirty -- and much more like a scholarly gnome or distant relative of Gandalf than the studly vampire lover of your fantasies.]
Now, while you are looking all blurfle-eyed and blushing, day-dreaming of the eternally youthful hero of Twilight or the vibrant and sweating habitués of The Raven in Toronto, amid scenes of pounding music, I shall describe some dishes I haven't made in quite a long while, as I seldom cook anymore.
But they would go well together at a small dinner.
薑蔥炆雞丁GEUNG-CHUNG MAN KAI DING
Ginger-scallion simmered chicken chunks
One pound chicken on the bone, whacked into chopstickable pieces.
Three scallions, sectioned.
Sliced ginger.
4 TBS sherry.
2 TBS soy sauce.
1 TBS sugar.
Wash and dry chicken, dust with a teaspoon of cornflour, add a dash of oil and toss to coat. Stirfry in scant oil to firm up. Decant temporarily to a plate.
Sauté ginger and scallion till fragrant, add chicken to the pan along with the sherry, soy sauce, sugar, and a splash of water. Simmer on low for ten to fifteen minutes.
Put in a shallow bowl to serve.
炸汁蝦 JAA JAP HAA
Fried sauced shrimp
One pound of medium prawns.
Three scallions, chopped.
A little minced ginger.
Two TBS sherry.
One Tsp. sugar.
A little hot chili paste.
Pinches of salt and ground white pepper.
Drops of sesame oil.
Batter:
One egg white.
One TBS cornflour.
Rip off the legs of the prawns, de-shell, and remove the vein. Rinse, dry. Whisk the egg white and cornflour smooth, dip the prawns, and deep fry in hot oil till golden. Note that if you have a wok, this will require less oil and be easier to do. Remove and drain on paper towels.
Sauté ginger and scallion till fragrant. Add the sherry, sugar, chili paste, pinches and drops, plus a little water. Cook till it starts to become glazy, add the prawns, and toss to coat.
Decant onto a plate.
鹹魚炆豬肉 HAAHM YÜ MAN CHÜ YIUK
Salt fish and fatty pork in clay pot
One pound of streaky belly pork (naam yiuk 腩肉).
Less than a fifth that amount salt fish, judged by eye.
Four or five whole shallots, peeled.
Four or five cloves garlic, left whole.
Some sliced ginger.
Quarter cup sherry.
One TBS fish sauce (yü lou 魚露).
One TBS sugar.
Blanch the pork whole fully till firmed up, drain and rinse under cold water. Dry it, and cut it into chunks. Soak and drain the salt fish, dice it small. And note that it is supposed to be a contributing flavour, not a dominant ingredient. Fry the pork with the ginger and whole garlic cloves till slightly golden, and decant to a clay pot.
Fry the dried fish similarly and add to the clay pot. Put the shallots in also, add the sherry, fish sauce, and sugar, and half a cup of water. Put the clay pot on low heat, and simmer gently for one and a half hours.
Before taking it off the flame, stir in a handfull of spinach leaves to wilt.
NOTE: Regarding the salt fish, it is best to use specimens which are solid, firm, and entirely unfermented (sat yiuk haahm yü 實肉鹹魚).
But these may be very hard to find in C'town.
By far the most common types of dried fish (described as "moldy perfume salt fish" - mui heung haahm yü 霉香鹹魚) are fully fermented products, delicious and perfect for eating during warm weather, which have been implicated in a higher incidence of naso-pharyngeal cancers in Southern China.
Cantonese people love that scrumptious salty-fishy taste, and consume more of it than anyone else (you knew there was a reason why you liked their food).
If you don't have any dried fish in your larder, you can modify the recipe above by using shrimp paste (haahm haa jeung 鹹蝦醬) instead.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, February 18, 2013
HONG KONG TASTE - THE STUFF YOU WANT
Fish balls on a stick, egg-puff, milk-tea, wonton noodle, little egg tarts, and a pineapple bun stuffed with meat. If you know what these things are, you may be from Hong Kong.
串魚蛋 (chuen yü dan)
Fish balls on a stick are a quick snack. No, this isn't like gefilte fish in New York, these items are springy and chewy, not particularly fishy, and often deep-fried. But they aren't greasy, as the texture is too dense to allow oil penetration. Often there will be curry oil or curry sauce alongside, but if that is missing simply dump hot sauce over them.
鷄蛋仔 (gai daan chai)
Egg-puff is an airy waffle with globular parts. Cheap, sweet, lavishly dusted with powdered sugar. It's what you need to eat when you have a glass of boba tea (波霸茶). Go ahead, have the BIG cup of honeydew with milk and tapioca balls (蜜瓜波霸奶茶 'mat-gwa bo-ba naai cha').
奶茶 (naai cha)
Milk-tea is made by boiling black tea leaves, straining the resultant murky liquid through a cloth bag, and adding condensed milk. This will wake you up. It's a heartwarming splash of pure goodness.
雲吞麺 (wan tan min)
Wonton noodle is an abomination. Dumplings AND noodles? Sweet little innocent Mandarin-speakers won't touch this, as the combination of those items is NEVER done by civilized people, and the broth is flavoured with dried flounder (左口魚 'jo hau yü') besides. Add some ripped greens for freshness, and garnish with garlic chives (韭菜 'gau choi').
Naturally, it is delicious.
蛋撻 (daan taat)
Little egg tarts are what happens when English-style bakeries as interpreted by Hong Kong Chinese meet Portuguese pastries. Delicous, custardy, and small enough that you want to eat one or two more. Great hot and fresh, with boba tea OR milk-tea.
菠蘿包 (bo lo bau)
The pineapple bun is made by combining a soft sweet bread dough with a top-layer of sugar pastry. The name comes from the cracked appearance of that second dough expanding at a different rate than the first. Toasted, slathered with butter, and stuffed with sandwich meat, this is probably the most dangerous snack on the planet. Yet how delicious!
AND it's hand size!
You've been missing these things. But you know that they are available all over Chinatown. And other than the daan taat at Golden Gate, most people haven't discovered them yet. So go. As soon as school is out, or you are off work, head into the neighborhood and eat yourself a feast.
Might as well have all of them at once.
Life is good.
Live well.
Heh.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
串魚蛋 (chuen yü dan)
Fish balls on a stick are a quick snack. No, this isn't like gefilte fish in New York, these items are springy and chewy, not particularly fishy, and often deep-fried. But they aren't greasy, as the texture is too dense to allow oil penetration. Often there will be curry oil or curry sauce alongside, but if that is missing simply dump hot sauce over them.
鷄蛋仔 (gai daan chai)
Egg-puff is an airy waffle with globular parts. Cheap, sweet, lavishly dusted with powdered sugar. It's what you need to eat when you have a glass of boba tea (波霸茶). Go ahead, have the BIG cup of honeydew with milk and tapioca balls (蜜瓜波霸奶茶 'mat-gwa bo-ba naai cha').
奶茶 (naai cha)
Milk-tea is made by boiling black tea leaves, straining the resultant murky liquid through a cloth bag, and adding condensed milk. This will wake you up. It's a heartwarming splash of pure goodness.
雲吞麺 (wan tan min)
Wonton noodle is an abomination. Dumplings AND noodles? Sweet little innocent Mandarin-speakers won't touch this, as the combination of those items is NEVER done by civilized people, and the broth is flavoured with dried flounder (左口魚 'jo hau yü') besides. Add some ripped greens for freshness, and garnish with garlic chives (韭菜 'gau choi').
Naturally, it is delicious.
蛋撻 (daan taat)
Little egg tarts are what happens when English-style bakeries as interpreted by Hong Kong Chinese meet Portuguese pastries. Delicous, custardy, and small enough that you want to eat one or two more. Great hot and fresh, with boba tea OR milk-tea.
菠蘿包 (bo lo bau)
The pineapple bun is made by combining a soft sweet bread dough with a top-layer of sugar pastry. The name comes from the cracked appearance of that second dough expanding at a different rate than the first. Toasted, slathered with butter, and stuffed with sandwich meat, this is probably the most dangerous snack on the planet. Yet how delicious!
AND it's hand size!
You've been missing these things. But you know that they are available all over Chinatown. And other than the daan taat at Golden Gate, most people haven't discovered them yet. So go. As soon as school is out, or you are off work, head into the neighborhood and eat yourself a feast.
Might as well have all of them at once.
Life is good.
Live well.
Heh.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 03, 2013
SEA CUCUMBER REVISITED
Over a year ago I detailed how to prepare sea-cucumber. This past Friday, an anonymous commenter wrote: "Add sliced pork to the dish above for extra delicious!"
Indeed! Adding pork to any dish involving sea-cucumber is a fine idea. One of the most traditional combinations involves sea-cucumber, black mushrooms, and pork knuckle.
It's particularly good, I have been told, for people with arthritis or stiff joints, as well as young mothers.
Not being a young mother, I will just have to take their word for it. As you may guess, a fifty-three year-old pipesmoking bachelor (me) is not likely to become a young mother anytime soon. The obstacles are daunting.
Arthritis, however, is a possibility.
Not a problem at this point.
Occasional twinges.
Rarely occur.
海參燜豬手 (HOI SAM MUN JU SAU)
PORK KNUCKLE & SEA CUCUMBER
Two sea cucumbers; soaked, cleaned, thickly sliced.
More than a pound of pork knuckle.
Ten dried black mushrooms (冬菇), soaked and sliced.
Garlic and ginger, slivered.
Two tablespoons rice wine or sherry.
One tablespoon soy sauce.
One tablespoon oyster sauce.
One tablespoon sugar.
Pinch of five spice powder.
Pinch of ground pepper.
First blanch the pork knuckles in boiling water to remove scum for about ten minutes. Then rinse them thoroughly under cold water. Heat a dash of oil in a pan and add the garlic and ginger. Once they start colouring, add the sliced black mushroom and the rice wine or sherry. When the liquid is nearly gone, add the sliced sea cucumber, stir briefly, and pour in water to cover. Don't include the pork knuckles yet, but add everything else. Simmer for twenty minutes, then add in the pork knuckles, and simmer on very low heat for two hours, or longer. Make sure that this dish is 'soupy', as the combination of the sea cucumbers and pork knuckles with their gravy over rice is wonderful.
"Add pork, for extra delicious!"
The next dish is somewhat different, yet rather similar.
It features many of the same ingredients.
And is just as good.
蒸海參扣肉 (JING HOI SAM KAU YUK)
SLICED PORK & SEA CUCUMBER
Two sea cucumbers; soaked, cleaned, thickly sliced.
Half a pound of five flower pork (五花腩).
Six black mushrooms (冬菇), soaked and sliced.
Plenty of slivered ginger - two thumbs.
Two TBS rice wine or sherry.
Half to one TBS shrimp paste (鹹蝦醬).
One Tsp. sambal ulek or raw chili paste.
Generous pinch of sugar.
Medium pinch of corn flour.
Small pinch five spice powder.
Blanch the piece of pork in boiling water for five minutes, blanch the sea cucumber also, but only briefly. Rinse the pork under cold water so that it can be cut into pieces of roughly the same size as the sea cucumber, which you will have simply drained. Mix the pork with the shrimp paste, sambal ulek, sugar, corn flour, and five spice powder in a broad shallow bowl, and when the sea cucumber is cool enough to handle, add it too. Strew the slivered ginger over the top.
Bring the water in your steamer to a roiling boil, place the bowl inside, and steam on high for two hours. Garnish with fresh cilantro after removing from the steamer.
The juices especially are delicious with your rice.
This isn't the most low-fat dish on the planet. So serve it with some nice lan sam (蘭芯) or mustard greens (芥菜), and plenty of tea to assist digestion.
NOTE: You can either follow the directions I outlined in my earlier article for soaking sea cucumber in preparation for these dishes, or ask your merchant.
Not all sea cucumber is the same, and some take longer to soften, sometimes up to six or seven days.
Remember to change the water twice per day.
I usually go for those that are about as long as my hand in their dry state, and look repulsive and rather blackish. They tend to be easiest to clean.
AFTER WORD 後記
Relating to Chinese festive occasions, such as the New Year (春節, 初一), which will be on Sunday February 10th. in 2013, any dish that features sea cucumber is extremely appropriate. The term 'hoi sam' (海參) is a very close homophonic duplicate of 'happiness' (開心) in Cantonese.
I suggest preparing it either for New Years Eve, at the great family get-together to end the old year, (年夜飯 nien yeh fan), or a few days later, when you can cook and clean again. The eighth day (Feb. 17th, 2013) is the perfect date for an "open the year" feast.
If you made 好事發財 (ho si fat choi: dried oyster with hair vegetable -- 'good affairs and attaining prosperity'), you already have either the streaky pork belly (五花腩 ng fa nam) or the pig's knuckles (豬手 ju sau) on the table. So it might be best to simply prepare the sea cucumber according to the recipe given in that earlier article.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
It's particularly good, I have been told, for people with arthritis or stiff joints, as well as young mothers.
Not being a young mother, I will just have to take their word for it. As you may guess, a fifty-three year-old pipesmoking bachelor (me) is not likely to become a young mother anytime soon. The obstacles are daunting.
Arthritis, however, is a possibility.
Not a problem at this point.
Occasional twinges.
Rarely occur.
海參燜豬手 (HOI SAM MUN JU SAU)
PORK KNUCKLE & SEA CUCUMBER
Two sea cucumbers; soaked, cleaned, thickly sliced.
More than a pound of pork knuckle.
Ten dried black mushrooms (冬菇), soaked and sliced.
Garlic and ginger, slivered.
Two tablespoons rice wine or sherry.
One tablespoon soy sauce.
One tablespoon oyster sauce.
One tablespoon sugar.
Pinch of five spice powder.
Pinch of ground pepper.
First blanch the pork knuckles in boiling water to remove scum for about ten minutes. Then rinse them thoroughly under cold water. Heat a dash of oil in a pan and add the garlic and ginger. Once they start colouring, add the sliced black mushroom and the rice wine or sherry. When the liquid is nearly gone, add the sliced sea cucumber, stir briefly, and pour in water to cover. Don't include the pork knuckles yet, but add everything else. Simmer for twenty minutes, then add in the pork knuckles, and simmer on very low heat for two hours, or longer. Make sure that this dish is 'soupy', as the combination of the sea cucumbers and pork knuckles with their gravy over rice is wonderful.
"Add pork, for extra delicious!"
The next dish is somewhat different, yet rather similar.
It features many of the same ingredients.
And is just as good.
蒸海參扣肉 (JING HOI SAM KAU YUK)
SLICED PORK & SEA CUCUMBER
Two sea cucumbers; soaked, cleaned, thickly sliced.
Half a pound of five flower pork (五花腩).
Six black mushrooms (冬菇), soaked and sliced.
Plenty of slivered ginger - two thumbs.
Two TBS rice wine or sherry.
Half to one TBS shrimp paste (鹹蝦醬).
One Tsp. sambal ulek or raw chili paste.
Generous pinch of sugar.
Medium pinch of corn flour.
Small pinch five spice powder.
Blanch the piece of pork in boiling water for five minutes, blanch the sea cucumber also, but only briefly. Rinse the pork under cold water so that it can be cut into pieces of roughly the same size as the sea cucumber, which you will have simply drained. Mix the pork with the shrimp paste, sambal ulek, sugar, corn flour, and five spice powder in a broad shallow bowl, and when the sea cucumber is cool enough to handle, add it too. Strew the slivered ginger over the top.
Bring the water in your steamer to a roiling boil, place the bowl inside, and steam on high for two hours. Garnish with fresh cilantro after removing from the steamer.
The juices especially are delicious with your rice.
This isn't the most low-fat dish on the planet. So serve it with some nice lan sam (蘭芯) or mustard greens (芥菜), and plenty of tea to assist digestion.
NOTE: You can either follow the directions I outlined in my earlier article for soaking sea cucumber in preparation for these dishes, or ask your merchant.
Not all sea cucumber is the same, and some take longer to soften, sometimes up to six or seven days.
Remember to change the water twice per day.
I usually go for those that are about as long as my hand in their dry state, and look repulsive and rather blackish. They tend to be easiest to clean.
AFTER WORD 後記
Relating to Chinese festive occasions, such as the New Year (春節, 初一), which will be on Sunday February 10th. in 2013, any dish that features sea cucumber is extremely appropriate. The term 'hoi sam' (海參) is a very close homophonic duplicate of 'happiness' (開心) in Cantonese.
I suggest preparing it either for New Years Eve, at the great family get-together to end the old year, (年夜飯 nien yeh fan), or a few days later, when you can cook and clean again. The eighth day (Feb. 17th, 2013) is the perfect date for an "open the year" feast.
If you made 好事發財 (ho si fat choi: dried oyster with hair vegetable -- 'good affairs and attaining prosperity'), you already have either the streaky pork belly (五花腩 ng fa nam) or the pig's knuckles (豬手 ju sau) on the table. So it might be best to simply prepare the sea cucumber according to the recipe given in that earlier article.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, December 01, 2012
BEST RICE PORRIDGE IN SAN FRANCISCO
That was a truly beautiful bowl of rice porridge!
I have rarely encountered such perfection.
Absolutely stellar and soul-satisfying.
Yesterday I went over to my bank, then stopped in Chinatown for a bit of lunch. There's a new place on Pacific, which does simple Cantonese urban eats. The kind of stuff that when you want it, nothing else even comes close. But it isn't what you would expect in your neighborhood, unless you live here.
銀都雲吞麵
YIN DU WONTON NOODLE
648 Pacific Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94133
415-834-9388
Between Grant and Kearny, opposite Ping Yuen Estates.
Closer to Grant Avenue than Kearny Street.
Open from 7:00 A.M. to 8:00 P.M.
Normally I will not take the trouble to transcribe the entire menu. But this place is sufficiently excellent that it would be quite unfair to the readers not to leave their mouths watering.
Think in terms of breakfast, lunch, dinner, or a light meal anytime of day.
湯麵類 NOODLE SOUP
鮮蝦雲吞 Wonton (shrimp & pork) soup: $4.30
鮮蝦雲吞麵 Wonton (shrimp & pork) noodle soup: $4.30
牛腩雲吞 Stewed beef brisket & wonton soup: $4.95
牛腩雲吞麵 Stewed beef brisket & wonton noodle soup: $4.95
水餃麵 Dumpling noodle soup: $4.30
淨水餃 Dumpling soup: $4.30
柱侯牛腩麵 Stewed beef brisket & noodle soup: $4.95
柱侯牛腩粉 Stewed beef brisket & rice noodle soup: $4.95
火鴨雲吞麵 Roast duck wonton noodle soup: $4.95
撈麵類 DISHED NOODLES
蠔油撈麵 Oyster sauce with noodles: $4.15
牛腩撈麵 Beef brisket noodles with vegetable: $5.95
牛筋撈麵 Beef tendon noodles: $5.95
南乳豬手撈麵 Pig's feet noodles: $5.25
京都炸醬麵(辣) Szechuan sauce noodles: $4.30
魚丸撈麵 Fish ball noodles: $4.30
粥類 CONGEE
蠔豉瘦肉粥 Dried oyster & pork congee: $4.25
豬肚肉片粥 Pork liver & pork congee: $4.25
滑雞粥 Boneless chicken congee: $4.25
魚片粥 Fish congee: $4.50
豬潤粥 Pork liver congee: $3.95
豬紅粥 Chao huyet congee: $3.95
豬什粥 Pork miscellany congee: $4.50
皮蛋瘦肉粥 Preserved egg & pork congee: $3.95
及第粥 Mixed meats congee: $4.50
生滾牛肉粥 Sliced beef congee: $4.50
白粥 Plain congee: $2.25
飯類 RICE
蜜汁叉燒飯 Barbecued pork over rice: $5.95
柱侯牛腩飯 Stewed beef brisket with rice: $5.95
咖喱牛腩飯 Curry beef with rice: $5.95
咖喱雞飯 Curry chicken rice: $5.95
南乳豬手飯 Pig's feet with rice: $5.30
蒸排骨飯 Steamed pork ribs with rice: $4.50
小菜 SIDE ORDER
蠔油芥蘭 Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce: $4.25
白灼牛百葉 Steamed beef tripe: $5.95
白灼豬腰,豬潤 Steamed pork kidney & pork liver: $5.95
咖喱魚蛋 Curry fish ball: $4.50
南乳豬手 Pig's feet: $4.50
蠔油菜芯,白菜 Oyster sauce choisum or bok choy: $4.25
飲品 DRINK
咖啡 CoFfee: $1.50 (hot) $1.80 (cold)
奶茶 Milk tea: $1.80 (hot) $2.30 (cold)
檸檬茶 Lemon tea: $1.60 (hot) $1.90 (cold)
檸檬 Lemon honey drink: $1.80 (hot) $2.20 (cold)
汽水 Soft drinks: $1.25
There now. Isn't all that ever so appetizing? Even with the occasional gap in comprehension, you should have a very good idea of the food.
The place is clean, bright, and friendly.
An entire family works there.
That bowl of rice porridge may very well have been the best I've ever had.
一碗都成開心!
They don't have yautiu (油條), but I didn't even miss them. The pork was super high quality, and cut just right. Small chopped preserved egg added, along with slivered ginger and minced scallion. Cilantro on top.
It was gorgeous.
Their Hongkong style milk-tea is also wonderful.
Judging by this first experience, I need to go there again and again, just to sample everything they do and decide on favourites. There may, consequently, be a rash of further joyous reviews of Yin Du Wonton Noodle here over the next several months.
NOTES:
Stewed beef brisket is a very Hongkong dish.
Namyu pork knuckle (南乳豬手) is typically Hakka. Fish balls are firm and bouncy, and do not resemble gefilte fish at all. Dried oyster is a wonderfull rich flavouring ingredient with which you must become familiar. The best types come from Japan.
What they've "translated" as 'chao huyet' is actually gelled cubed pig's blood: chu huet (豬血). Good for women who need extra iron, as well as delicious and traditional.
What I have rendered as pork miscellany are various organ meats.
And milk tea is milk tea.
It's like somebody plonked down a slice of Hongkong in San Francisco's Chinatown. In every way a very welcome addition. I wish them success and prosperity.
A better place for a rainy afternoon I cannot imagine.
I was happy as a clam when I left.
Oh lordy yes.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I have rarely encountered such perfection.
Absolutely stellar and soul-satisfying.
Yesterday I went over to my bank, then stopped in Chinatown for a bit of lunch. There's a new place on Pacific, which does simple Cantonese urban eats. The kind of stuff that when you want it, nothing else even comes close. But it isn't what you would expect in your neighborhood, unless you live here.
銀都雲吞麵
YIN DU WONTON NOODLE
648 Pacific Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94133
415-834-9388
Between Grant and Kearny, opposite Ping Yuen Estates.
Closer to Grant Avenue than Kearny Street.
Open from 7:00 A.M. to 8:00 P.M.
Normally I will not take the trouble to transcribe the entire menu. But this place is sufficiently excellent that it would be quite unfair to the readers not to leave their mouths watering.
Think in terms of breakfast, lunch, dinner, or a light meal anytime of day.
湯麵類 NOODLE SOUP
鮮蝦雲吞 Wonton (shrimp & pork) soup: $4.30
鮮蝦雲吞麵 Wonton (shrimp & pork) noodle soup: $4.30
牛腩雲吞 Stewed beef brisket & wonton soup: $4.95
牛腩雲吞麵 Stewed beef brisket & wonton noodle soup: $4.95
水餃麵 Dumpling noodle soup: $4.30
淨水餃 Dumpling soup: $4.30
柱侯牛腩麵 Stewed beef brisket & noodle soup: $4.95
柱侯牛腩粉 Stewed beef brisket & rice noodle soup: $4.95
火鴨雲吞麵 Roast duck wonton noodle soup: $4.95
撈麵類 DISHED NOODLES
蠔油撈麵 Oyster sauce with noodles: $4.15
牛腩撈麵 Beef brisket noodles with vegetable: $5.95
牛筋撈麵 Beef tendon noodles: $5.95
南乳豬手撈麵 Pig's feet noodles: $5.25
京都炸醬麵(辣) Szechuan sauce noodles: $4.30
魚丸撈麵 Fish ball noodles: $4.30
粥類 CONGEE
蠔豉瘦肉粥 Dried oyster & pork congee: $4.25
豬肚肉片粥 Pork liver & pork congee: $4.25
滑雞粥 Boneless chicken congee: $4.25
魚片粥 Fish congee: $4.50
豬潤粥 Pork liver congee: $3.95
豬紅粥 Chao huyet congee: $3.95
豬什粥 Pork miscellany congee: $4.50
皮蛋瘦肉粥 Preserved egg & pork congee: $3.95
及第粥 Mixed meats congee: $4.50
生滾牛肉粥 Sliced beef congee: $4.50
白粥 Plain congee: $2.25
飯類 RICE
蜜汁叉燒飯 Barbecued pork over rice: $5.95
柱侯牛腩飯 Stewed beef brisket with rice: $5.95
咖喱牛腩飯 Curry beef with rice: $5.95
咖喱雞飯 Curry chicken rice: $5.95
南乳豬手飯 Pig's feet with rice: $5.30
蒸排骨飯 Steamed pork ribs with rice: $4.50
小菜 SIDE ORDER
蠔油芥蘭 Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce: $4.25
白灼牛百葉 Steamed beef tripe: $5.95
白灼豬腰,豬潤 Steamed pork kidney & pork liver: $5.95
咖喱魚蛋 Curry fish ball: $4.50
南乳豬手 Pig's feet: $4.50
蠔油菜芯,白菜 Oyster sauce choisum or bok choy: $4.25
飲品 DRINK
咖啡 CoFfee: $1.50 (hot) $1.80 (cold)
奶茶 Milk tea: $1.80 (hot) $2.30 (cold)
檸檬茶 Lemon tea: $1.60 (hot) $1.90 (cold)
檸檬 Lemon honey drink: $1.80 (hot) $2.20 (cold)
汽水 Soft drinks: $1.25
There now. Isn't all that ever so appetizing? Even with the occasional gap in comprehension, you should have a very good idea of the food.
The place is clean, bright, and friendly.
An entire family works there.
That bowl of rice porridge may very well have been the best I've ever had.
一碗都成開心!
They don't have yautiu (油條), but I didn't even miss them. The pork was super high quality, and cut just right. Small chopped preserved egg added, along with slivered ginger and minced scallion. Cilantro on top.
It was gorgeous.
Their Hongkong style milk-tea is also wonderful.
Judging by this first experience, I need to go there again and again, just to sample everything they do and decide on favourites. There may, consequently, be a rash of further joyous reviews of Yin Du Wonton Noodle here over the next several months.
NOTES:
Stewed beef brisket is a very Hongkong dish.
Namyu pork knuckle (南乳豬手) is typically Hakka. Fish balls are firm and bouncy, and do not resemble gefilte fish at all. Dried oyster is a wonderfull rich flavouring ingredient with which you must become familiar. The best types come from Japan.
What they've "translated" as 'chao huyet' is actually gelled cubed pig's blood: chu huet (豬血). Good for women who need extra iron, as well as delicious and traditional.
What I have rendered as pork miscellany are various organ meats.
And milk tea is milk tea.
It's like somebody plonked down a slice of Hongkong in San Francisco's Chinatown. In every way a very welcome addition. I wish them success and prosperity.
A better place for a rainy afternoon I cannot imagine.
I was happy as a clam when I left.
Oh lordy yes.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
THE BONA FIDES
For the people who do not grasp colourful American expressions, I need to clarify that when one says "my piles bleed for" somethin...
