Pomegranates

I know, I know, its been too long.  I’m sorry.  No excuses.

I wanted to share a quick thought on one of the more well-known fruits that most people have never tried.  I was on that “never tried” list until a few days ago, when my wife and I hosted a Korean classmate and her family (her husband and two ridiculously cute and well-behaved children.  I’m not kidding.  They make calm children I have met in the US look like menaces in comparison.  The “naughtiest” thing either one of them did was steal my house shoes and walk around “too loudly” in them.  They are 4 and 6.  That’s it, I’m not kidding.  OK, end of side note).  They brought a bag of oranges and some pomegranates with them as a gift (fruit is a common thing to bring as a gift when visiting someone’s house in China, especially in the South).

I was not certain at first what they were because I have only ever seen reddish-colored pomegranates.  But when we opened up the first one, there was no mistaking the distinctive ruby colored beads of juicy, sweet goodness.  They come prepackaged in a Styrofoam netting (presumably to protect) and are the size of a large apple or orange.

I was also surprised to learn that pomegranate season runs from October through January (sometimes into February) and that there are amazing antioxidant and other health benefits.  So especially for all you sugar addicts out there, I know this time of year can be overly tempting and difficult.  Next time you are at the store, pick up a few pomegranates, and when your sweet-tooth tempts you, crack one open.  I think you will find it a satisfying, natural alternative to fatty fudge and other holiday snacks that quench your desire for sugar.

Enjoy!

Beef and Peppers Ubiquitous

When I was in college at the University of Oklahoma I took a class on folklore because I really liked the professor.  We started the semester reading Sophicles’ tragic Theban cycle, also known as, Antigone, Oedipus the King, and Oedipus at Colonus.  It was a wonderful way to start the year.  Then we started the rest of the selections.  Mostly forgettable, I remember being bored to death by a thick volume retelling ancient Russian folktales that went on and on and on (I guess Dostoevky and Tolstoy come by their verbosity honestly), and I was horrified, cracked up and eventually broken by a most egregious offering entitled Oedipus Ubiquitous, which attempted to prove that the Oedipus instinct, made infamous by Freud, was present in every culture’s folktales.  The project failed miserably, but the title stuck.  And thus I dedicate this post to Sophicles, Oedipus Ubiquitous, and whoever the genius was that first thought to cook beef together with peppers.

On our travels South to North (last summer) and North to South (this summer) across China, my wife and I often found ourselves in unfamiliar restaurants, staring at unfamiliar menus, unsure what to order.  And at times like those, when there are no pictures to help (which is always a plus on Chinese menus – no offense, Chef Gordon Ramsey) better to go with something you know is good.  Easy to remember and almost always good in any restaurant, 牛肉炒青椒 (niurou chao qingjiao, beef and peppers) is a great “go to” dish!  And though none of my Chinese friends has cooked it for me, I humbly present my own rendition.

Beef and Peppers:

Ingredients and Preparation -

• 1/2 pound flank or skirt steak, cut very thinly (this is important to the texture and cooking time).
• 1 small onion (or half medium onion), very roughly chopped
• 1 small sweet red pepper, roughly chopped
• 2 hot green peppers, chopped into half inch chunks with seeds (these look like Italian peppers, but are spicier – you can find them at an Asian market)
• 1/2 inch ginger, peeled and roughly chopped
• 1 large garlic clove, roughly chopped
• 3 tablespoons of soy sauce
• 1 teaspoon of salt
• 1 tablespoon of oyster sauce (this is also an a very important ingredient for the flavor and is in most Chinese sauces.  The brand I like is called 海天 (haitian, sea sky or day), but it also has the name, Haday on the bottle, which must be the “English” name.  I am confident you can find this at an Asian Market.).
• 2 tablespoons Peanut Oil (this also matters, it really effects the flavor, and unless you are allergic to peanuts, it is worth purchasing).

Cooking

• Marinate thinly sliced beef with salt and 1 tbsp. of soy sauce for fifteen minutes.
• In a hot wok or skillet on high heat, add peanut oil.  When hot, add ginger and garlic.  As they begin to brown add onions and let cook until they begin to brown.  Then add beef.
• As the beef cooks down add the rest of the soy sauce (2 tbsp.) and oyster sauce then add peppers and cook until peppers begin to soften.  Remove from heat immediately so the peppers do not get soggy and serve with rice and a steamed or stir-fried veggie.

Chinese Foodie Culture

One of the more baffling aspects of Chinese cuisine, something that I will probably never get used to, reflects both practical and cultural differences between China and the West.  The average Chinese simply doesn’t care whether her food is hot or cold.  Part of this lack of preference indicates an equal lack of excess in Chinese kitchens.  Most city dwelling Chinese only have one or two burners on their stove, a rice cooker, one wok and maybe a pot for cooking soups.  Their rural compatriots still use wood burning stoves and one wok with which to cook.  Therefore, whatever dish is cooked first, sits and cools while the rest of the cooking takes place, whether two or twenty dishes follow.

But further still, certain meat dishes (think fresh Chinese-version deli meats), like 烤鸭 (kao ya, roasted duck) and 白切鸡 (bai qie ji, sliced chicken breast), and sweet porridges, like 八宝粥 (babao zhou, eight treasure soup), are always served cold, because the Chinese prefer it that way.  In fact cold dishes are an important starter to any proper Chinese banquet.  And these cold dishes are all well and good, but what is remarkably inexplicable to my Western palate, is when a dish which should be hot, which always tastes better hot and is inedible cold, unexplainably and without apology, is served lukewarm.

Surely they know that freshly cooked, piping hot veggies are better than ones that have been sitting for ten minutes….right?  Well, unfortunately, the answer is no.  Or at least the answer is seemingly no, at least for the vast majority.  But like in every other country on earth, there are a group of organized dissenters of the average, the ordinary, the normal food.

They are picky, snobby, and often unsatisfied.  The Chinese call them 美食家 (mei shi jia) or ”beautiful food expert.”  We call them foodies.  They demand the best and are willing to pay for it.  And unless the dish is traditionally served cold, they want it fresh and hot.

And while these 美食家 share some protein passions with  most most foodies, they also have a thing or two to teach their Western counterparts.  Here are three of their favorite dishes:

鲍鱼 (bao yu) – Abalone Oysters

鲨鱼翅汤 (sha yu chi tang) Shark Fin Soup

燕窝汤(yan wo tang) Swallow’s Nest Soup – If you can’t get Foie Gras, you might want to try this delicacy.

Unfortunately, I don’t know any 美食家 (mei shi jia) or any other foodies for that matter.  Which means that for the time being, I will continue to eat lukewarm 青椒炒牛肉 (qingjiao chao niurou, Beef and Peppers), unless of course they bring it to me hot, which, thank God, they normally do.

Steamed Fish

Last year during our two week stay in Guangzhou, Erin and I exchanged a Chinese cooking lesson for an American style cooking lesson.  We cooked pork chops and mashed potatoes with a beer gravy and our friends Molly, Winfred and Morris (seriously, those were their English names, I couldn’t make this stuff up) cooked, among other things, 蒸鱼 (zhengyu, steamed fish).  It was so tasty and so easy that I decided to try it again the other day.  This is the story of what happened.

We headed off to the market for the few ingredients that we needed and returned still recovering from the shock of how quickly the fish we selected went from innocently swimming around with its friends to a dead, descaled, gutted, and cleaned tasty looking meal.  The deftness which the woman who helped us showed in her movements was both impressive and scary.  No sooner had I said, “要 (yao, or I want it)” to the fish she held in her hand, then BAM! onto the chopping board it went, with the end of the knife bludgeoning its head.  All told, the whole operation from selection to exchanging money for services rendered could not have lasted more than a minute.

With the fish and the other ingredients in tow, still reeling a bit from the experience, we walked back to our apartment, and I prepped and cooked the meal.  Here’s the recipe (feeds two):

Ingredients:

1. One small fish (descaled and cleaned) – You should ask at your local Asian market for a fish without too many bones (没有很多刺鱼, meiyou hen duo ci yu).  You want a thin, lean, white fish like a carp for this method of cooking.
2. Two cloves garlic – one sliced, one roughly chopped
3. 1 inch peeled and thinly sliced ginger.  Here’s a trick I learned to save as much of the ginger when you peel it as possible.  Use a spoon.  The skin is thin and slides right off.
4. 3 stalks chinese leek (韭菜, jiu cai) chopped into half inch sections.  This might be difficult to find as it looks nothing like actual leeks.  I think garlic tops or green onions would make an acceptable substitute.
5. 2 tbsp soy sauce
6. 1 tbsp peanut oil
7. 2 cups water

Preparation and Cooking:

1. Thoroughly wash the fish – inside and out.  Score the fish three times on both sides.  This is a very important step!  If you don’t do it, the middle will not cook. Stuff the inside of the fish with half the Chinese leeks, the sliced garlic and the ginger.  Put it into the refrigerator until needed.
2. Put a small bowl in the bottom of a wok and pour in water.  Cover and heat to boiling then add plate with fish on top of the bowl and recover.  Cook to size.  A fish the size I cooked takes about ten minutes.
3. When finished steaming, carefully remove plate from wok and dump out water.  I have heard that you can use this water as a broth for soup, but I have never done so.  Add peanut oil and heat wok.  When hot, add the roughly chopped garlic.  As garlic begins to brown, add the rest of the Chinese leeks and saute for a minute.  Add soy sauce and saute for another minute.  Pour sauce over fish and serve.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I forgot to score the fish and I stuffed the fish with too much garlic, ginger and Chinese leek.  As a result the middle was not completely cooked, but most of it was edible and tasted amazing.  I served it with rice and another green.  One piece of advice with this meal though.  Serve sides that do not have much sauce.  The sauce on the fish is so good, you don’t need any flavor competition.

If you decide to try this recipe, please share your result.

Love Cafe?

In and around the apartment complex where we live there are no less than five coffee shops.  They are part of what make our neighborhood so much, well, like a neighborhood.  Several of them have free wi-fi and they all have finely crafted, good quality 咖啡 (kafei, coffee).

But my wife and I have learned the hard way that if we want coffee in the morning, we either have to go to McDonald’s or make it ourselves.  While your average US Starbucks employee arrives at work before the sun peeks its head above the horizon, barristers in China stroll in around noon.  And while some Starbucks and rare other coffee shops in the US are open until ten or even midnight (at the latest), their Chinese counterparts stay open until two in the morning every night. Needless to say we found these business hours confounding, and poked around to find out why anyone would want to drink such strong coffee (and do not doubt, this coffee is stout!) so late at night.

As it turns out, China’s coffee history dates back to the early 19th century, but in all those years, coffee never “caught on.”  And it is not really a mystery as to why.  China’s tea culture has a centuries-long monopoly on China’s liquid ingestion.  But I’ll save that topic for another post.  Suffice it to say that the Chinese love their tea.  And coffee?  Well, its OK, if you like that sort of thing.

But if for 200 years the Chinese have resisted coffee, why now are coffee shops finding enough success that there is room for five in one small neighborhood?  The answer is in the picture of my wife.   Chinese cafes are dimly-lit, quiet, and “romantic” (or at least that is the goal of the decor) rendezvous points.  A new high school couple might take their 休息 (xiuxi, afternoon rest – the Chinese version of a siesta), flirting with each other and taking lots of pictures, while sipping on lattes.  After a night out on the town, young couples flood the cafes, taking lots of pictures, drinking beer and maybe a couple of iced macchiatos.

The marketing scheme is actually quite impressive.  If you can’t win them over with quality, lovingly brewed, pristinely presented coffee, make the coffee shop a romantic oasis.  Draw them in with the promise of passion and mystery and win them over with brilliantly executed coffee.  The pictures are just a bonus.

An Introduction to Chinese Noodles

Just outside our apartment complex, running along a 胡同 (hutong) or side street all the way out to the main road, lie a series of small restaurants.  They feature rice bowls, fast food (Chinese style of course), Chicken and Duck shops, and most importantly noodle shops!  Most days my wife and I wander downstairs and out to the alley and make the difficult choice of deciding where to eat lunch.  More often than not, we go for the ubiquitous noodle bowl.

But that is just the beginning of our choices.  The next choice might be even more important.  Do we want to eat 米粉 (mifen, rice noodles) or 拉面 (lamian, pulled flour noodles)?

米粉 – Mifen or Rice Noodles are a specialty of Southern Chinese Cooking.  Unlike other rice noodles I have seen, mifen are solid white in color rather than translucent, as in Thai or Vietnamese rice noodles.  And they come manufactured in two main ways – 圆的 (yuande, round) or 切的 (qiede, cut).  The round noodles are about the size and shape of No. 8 spaghetti and the cut ones are flatter and wider in comparison (about twice as wide as linguini).  Below is an example of the most famous of rice bowl dishes – 桂林米粉 (Guilin Mifen) or Guilin Style Rice Noodles.

The choices continue from there as well.  Once you have decided that you want round rice noodles (my personal favorite) for instance, you can choose the kind of meat you want, whether or not you want broth, what kind of broth you want, and whether or not you want 酸菜 (suancai, sour vegetables), etc.

Besides Guilin Style Rice Noodles some of our favorite rice noodle dishes are:

1. 牛南肉米粉 (niunanrou mifen) – fatty beef rice noodles
2. 鲜肉米粉 (xianrou mifen) – fresh pork rice noodles
3. 牛吧米粉 (niuba mifen) – dried beef rice noodles

拉面 – Lamian or Pulled Flour noodles on the other hand, are, as the name suggests, made by pulling flour dough into noodles.  We believe the pulled noodle shop on our alley is owned by a 回族 (huizu, muslim minority) family.  It is by far the most entertaining restaurant in the alley because they make their own noodles from scratch.  It is a truly impressive and demoralizing sight to watch such skill in action.  In less than two minutes the 老板 (Laoban, owner) can turn a ball of dough into three batches of pulled noodles.

But you can get pulled noodles anywhere and it makes you realize what a sad imitation “ramen” (an old transliteration of lamian) noodles really are.  For those of you interested in trying pulled noodles, I have some great news.  One of our favorite places to get them is a Japanese Restaurant called Ajisen.  And they have come to a neighborhood near you (at least some of you).  There are now seven in California (Century City, San Francisco, Fremont, Irvine, Rowland Heights, San Gabriel, and Temple City) and three in NYC (Manhattan, Flushing and Queens).

Our favorite pulled noodle dishes so far are:

1. 牛肉拉面 (niurou lamian) – Beef Pulled Noodles (served up with fresh cilantro and chives)
2. 加肉拉面 (jia rou lamian) – Literally “Add Meat Pulled Noodles (same as number one with more meat!)
3. 葱油拌面 (congyou banmian) – Chive Oil Mixed Noodles (Served dry (without broth) with beef and cilantro)
4. Ajisen’s 牛肉咖喱汤面 (niurou galitang mian) – Beef Curry Soup Noodles (Served with cabbage and mushroom)

Deep Fried Eggplant with Spicy Pork

The other day our tutor brought her friend over to our house for dinner.  We agreed to buy the food and her friend agreed to show us how to cook it.  So after introductions were made, I headed out with our new chinese chef to the market to buy food.

When we returned to the apartment with WAY too much food, we began the long process of washing and prepping before we cooked.  Eventually we ended up cooking five delicious dishes and rice.  In order of preparation we cooked:

Towel Gourd and Pork Soup (丝瓜肉片汤, sigua roupian tang)

Fragrant spicy chicken (香辣椒炒鸡肉, xiang lajiao chao jirou)

Spicy Beef (辣椒炒牛片, lajiao chao niupian)

Stir Fried Chinese Greens (炒空心菜, chao kongxincai)

Deep Fried Eggplant with Spicy Pork (炸茄子炒块肉, zha qiezi chao kuairou)

Everything was tasty but Erin and I both agree that the Deep Fried Eggplant with Spicy Pork was the best.  I include the ingredients and preparation here:

Ingredients:

1. 1 eggplant, thinly sliced
2. 1 tomato, finely chopped
3. 2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
4. 2 fresh hot red pepper, roughly chopped
5. 1 dried hot red pepper, roughly chopped
6. 1/2 lb. pork, minced (I think it would be better if you cut it into thin strips, but we minced ours and it was a little difficult to eat…especially with chop sticks)
7. 3-4 tbsp peanut oil
8. 1 tbsp soy sauce
9. 1 tsp salt
10. 1 tsp chicken chicken bouillon

Preparation:

1. Add 3-4 tbsp. of peanut oil to a hot wok until ready (test with drops of water).  Fill the bottom of the wok with one layer of eggplant.  This will fry quickly if cut thin.  As it begins to shrink turn slices.  When light brown on both sides, remove from pan and repeat until all the eggplant is cooked.
2. Add garlic and peppers to the oil and back away.  The pan will splatter and you will cough!  When the garlic begins to brown add the tomato and pork and cook, stirring until the tomatoes are fully broken down (around 5-6 minutes).
3. Add soy sauce, salt and chicken bouillon and let cook for another minute.
4. Serve on top of the eggplant with rice.

This dish should not act as a main dish, but could if you double the ingredients.  However, chinese dishes are meant to be cooked as companions to each other and only one dish will seem to hit just one note.  I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think.

One of the main things I learned was that when one is cooking Sichuan style food, one often experiences what the Chinese call 强 (qiang), which is coughing uncontrollably when stir frying hot peppers.  This happened several times, as four out the five dishes we cooked had hot peppers in it.  But neither Erin and I had ever experienced anything quite like it.  Our friends found this amazing and amusing and explained the frequently experienced coughing fits that they called 强.