Hunan charcuterie and leeks

A couple of more wonderful props were awarded to All Under Heaven during the last few days of 2016. 

But before we get to them, I first want to thank everyone for making this the best year of my life in spite of everything else that went on, for the simple reason that my two books were published and then received such a warm welcome. And not only that, but we moved into the house of our dreams. And then throughout the year so many wonderful things happened to friends and family. Really, I am endlessly grateful. 

Thank you for reading this blog, cooking from my recipes, and being out there in the world.

Christmas cheer in a Chinatown alley

In The Kitchn’s “6 Travel-Inspired Cookbooks for the Adventurous Cook,” Dana Velden points out that “I can't think of a reason why any serious student of Chinese food and culture would not have this comprehensive and informative volume on their shelf. Authentic yet accessible, All Under Heaven is fascinating and not as intimidating as its heft and breadth would have you believe. The author's simple line drawings help to clarify techniques and ingredients and add charm to the whole experience.”

And then in Chowhound’s “Cookbook Gift Guide for the Holidays,” Amy Sowder writes that in Heaven you can “wrap your head around all the varieties of Chinese food in this comprehensive, contemporary portrait of country's culinary geography and history that has shaped it.”

What happy reviews!

*  *  *

This is a simple recipe for the end of the year. We are all tired of making fancy stuff for the holidays – or at least I am – and so this is the sort of super easy recipe I like to turn to when I find things like excellent young leeks hanging out at the market.

We have had lots and lots and lots of rain here in the Bay Area these past couple of weeks (months?), and so produce is either fabulous (particularly cold weather crops like root vegetables) or soggy (like lettuce). I tend to go with what the market suggests, so when I spied these amazingly beautiful young leeks, I knew what we were having for dinner.

Thin leeks like these are usually the result of thinning out rows to give the lucky remaining plants plenty of room to grow into luscious mammoths. The tender ones that don’t make the cut, though, are genuinely flavorful and don’t have to be braised or chopped into submission, and that makes them excellent for stir-fries.

They require only the minimum of care: trim, rinse carefully, slice, and you’re ready to go. I’d caution that these don’t store well and the leaves turn yellow if allowed to hang around, so enjoy them the same day that you bring them home.

As for the meat, either Hunan or Cantonese cured pork belly work equally well. Hunan larou is smoked, while the Cantonese version is not but yet is ever-so-slightly sweet. To prepare the meat, rinse off a hunk, shave off the skin (discard or toss in the soup pot), and then slice the pork against the grain into thin shards. This allows the fat to render easily, and the meat won’t turn into hard nuggets if you keep the heat low as it surrenders its fat.

Look for brands that are made in the U.S. rather than China, as they will be of higher quality. Select strips that have thin ribbons of dark meat woven with the pale fat, as this means they will be both tender and flavorful. Keep the charcuterie dry and closed in a plastic bag, and it will remain in perfect condition for quite a few weeks as long as it is kept chilled – freeze for longer storage.

 

Larou hanging out a window in SF

And again, this is more of a template than a regular recipe. It all depends on what you have, what you like, and what else is being served. Feel more than free to double or halve the meat, add fresh chilies or hot sauce, toss in chopped fermented black beans, add some thinly sliced pressed bean curd... the possibilities are truly endless. 

Here is a recipe from the archives that is a bit more complex and very Hunanese with its layered flavors and perfect for the chilehead in your life. But if you want something soothing and low tech, go with today's version.

I serve this over steamed rice and nothing else really is needed on a cold winter night, except for maybe a good movie. I’m watching Die Hard for the millionth time once I finish up with this. It’s my favorite Christmas movie.

Leek and charcuterie stir-fry

Suànmiáo chăo làròu 蒜苗炒臘肉

Hunan

Serves 2 as a main dish

Gaoliang and leeks

12 ounces / 330 g young leeks or green garlic

2 red chilies or 1 tablespoon Hunan style chile sauce, optional

1 tablespoon fermented black beans (doushi or douchi), optional

4 ounces / 120  g Cantonese or Hunan cured pork belly (larou)

1 teaspoon sugar

2 tablespoons / 30 ml white liquor (gaoliang recommended)

2 tablespoons / 30 ml regular soy sauce

1. Trim the roots off of the leeks, as well as any soft or yellow leaves. You should be left with only springy stalks with bright green leaves. Cut the leeks on a deep diagonal into thin slices, and keep the greens separate from the whites. If you are using fresh chilies, remove the stems and slice them on a deep diagonal into thin ovals. If you are using the fermented black beans, rinse them in a sieve and then coarsely chop them.

Charcuterie

2. Rinse the pork and cut off the rind. Cut the meat into thin shards against the grain, preferably into deeply diagonal slices so that they don’t end up too tiny. Set your wok over medium-low heat and sprinkle the pork in there. Toss them around now and then as they render their fat. When the white parts turn translucent, scoot them up the side of the wok and toss the optional chilies in their too before moving them up to the side of your wok.

3. Raise the heat under your wok to medium-high. Add the leek whites to the wok and toss them around in the oil. When they have wilted, scoot them up the side before adding the greens. Once they have wilted, add the optional chile sauce to the bottom of the wok to heat it quickly before tossing everything together.

4. Add the sugar to the dish, toss, and then the liquor and finally the soy sauce. Toss to coat everything evenly and adjust the seasoning as needed. Serve hot.

Chinese white liquor - brews you'll want to enjoy

A good Chinese supermarket will generally offer an intimidating wall of bottles fill with booze. 

If they're organized, at one side will be the rice wines, another edge will contain grape wines, and somewhere in there will be the stuff called “white liquor” - that last one is what we’re going to look at today. Other grocery stores like to make things as difficult as possible, as can be seen in these photos, where rice wines are jumbled in with the white liquors, perhaps just to make things interesting.

Hard alcohol is very different in China from the rest of the world. It is referred to in English as white liquor, which is a direct translation of the Chinese name: báijǐu 白酒, although some refer to these spirits as báigār 白乾兒 after an old variety traditionally made in Hebei. Except for a few varieties seasoned with herbs or other additives, these are almost always clear, hence their name.

Shaoxing wine (L) & white liquors

White liquor is beloved as a cooking ingredient for the elusive flavors it lends to certain dishes, like smoked chicken, although the better ones are of course meant to be reserved for appreciative sipping. These are best served neat at room temperature in wide small porcelain bowls similar to the cups used for rice wine, as this allows their aromas to be fully enjoyed. But then again, this is hard liquor — most of these spirits are 80 to 120 proof — and so they are in many ways more akin to vodka than the much milder rice wines of China.

These strong distilled spirits are mainly fermented out of cooked sorghum, wheat, barley, Job’s tears, sticky rice, or even millet, with other ingredients like dried peas, therapeutic herbs, or even flowers occasionally lending unique aromas and flavors to the brew. As with rice wines’ classifications, the names suggest the best pairings for these white liquors, for alcohol is meant — as always in China — to be enjoyed with complementary bar snacks. 

Two sorghum liquors

Do note that the English on the labels will be of varying levels of helpfulness, as sometimes old names are used, while other wing it, as can be seen in the photo to the right, which gives Gaoliang as "Kao Liang Chiew" and Fenjiu as "Fen Chiew." When in doubt, show a clerk the Chinese characters for the liquor you'd like to try.

A good white liquor to try first is Guizhou’s Maotai, whose heavy “sauce aroma” (jiàngxiāng 醬香) is formed by its pronounced ester compounds; this is what allows it to stand up to heavily seasoned foods. It's powerful stuff, but really worth getting to know on a personal basis. Pair it with any of the Central Highlands' spicy and numbing foods. 

Sweeter dishes would pair better with something like Wuliangye of Sichuan and its “strong aroma” (nóngxiāng 濃香), while more delicate ones would be complemented by the “light aroma” (qīngxiāng 清香) of something like Shanxi’s ancient Fenjiu.

There is also the “rice aroma” (mǐxiāng 米香) of white spirits brewed from rice, as well as white liquors with a sugary “honey aroma” (fēngxiāng 蜂香) and even the more complex brews boasting of a “layered aroma” (jiānxiāng 兼香).

Meant for sipping

Because these are clear spirits, the main difference among the seemingly endless varieties is whether they are seasoned in some way. Unflavored ones rely on the aroma of the grains and pulses used in their distillation to create their unique flavors. Others, though, go in the opposite direction and tickle the senses in different ways. For example, Meiguilu (“rose dew”) is a floral variety that works well as a seasoning in a number of dishes, particularly such rich sweets as moon cakes, where it adds an almost indefinable whiff of roses.

One of the most famous of China’s heady alcoholic brews is made in Gansu: Ng Ka Py. A type of sorghum white lightning flavored with a member of the ivy family, this is the drink that John Steinbeck in East of Eden described as having the taste of “good rotten apples.”

Of course, not everyone wants to have hard liquor with a meal. In that case, I'd always suggest a good, chilled beer - it is a perfect match for most of China's savory dishes.  

Spice-crusted salt pork Hakka style

Charcuterie is considered by most of us in the West as a European concept. When we think of such marvelous inventions as sausages, cured meats, salted pork, and brined bits of pig, we almost instinctively bring up images of foods from France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, and Germany, as well as Eastern Europe and a couple other places where the art of charcuterie is honored and has been honed to shiny perfection. 

Asia is generally not thought of as a hot spot for preserved meats, but hidden away in China are some of the most mouth-watering preparations you've never seen.

And to those of you who love Chinese cuisine, this should come as no surprise, for her dried and preserved and brined and salted ingredients are what give these incomparable foods their uniquely Chinese flavor. For example, beans are salted and cured to make everything from fermented black beans (douchi) to yellow bean sauce (doujiang) to crispy bean sauce (dousu) to even soy sauce. 

Fresh pork belly

Vegetables are given a similar treatment to turn them into umami-rich condiments like "plum vegetable" (meicai) and Tianjin's garlicky "winter vegetable" (dongcai), their flavors now nowhere anything like that of fresh leafy veggies, but more like pickles adept at the art of subtlety and subterfuge.

Like so many of these vegetal creations, meats -- including just about everything that swims, crawls, or flies -- can count on some the folks in some corner of China eyeing it for possible preservation. Although these techniques were initially designed to carry people through the coldest months of winter, nowadays when refrigeration and freezers make this little more than a past concern, cured things serve more than ever as easy and delicious ways to add depth of flavor to just about any dish.

When I lived in Taipei, one of my favorite haunts for hunting down these ingredients was South Gate Market. It had everything: fresh fish and meats, counters full of vegetables and fruit, stalls filled with women busy making local foods, bins piled with candy and dried ingredients, and a special section that arrayed dried and cured animal parts. 

There really is no other way to describe it. These were animal parts in all their wondrous incarnations: split whole fish, strings of sausages, and smoky pork legs all held from the ceiling on long poles, especially in the weeks leading up to the Chinese New Year. Flattened dried octopus and squid were hung up in fantastical dioramas. Splayed chickens, ducks, geese, and even squab and quail hovered over the merchants like aromatic angels.

An array of seasonings for the meat

And the best part was that the making of these delicious ingredients called on traditions from all over China. Yes, Nanjing is known for its great salted ducks and Guangdong for its sweet pink sausages and Hunan for its smoky pork, but people from other areas arranged their families' specialties too around the edges of the market in anticipation of the steady stream of customers that packed the aisles.

Not everyone bought their charcuterie, though. Some, like my late father-in-law, who was Hakka Chinese, enjoyed making their own, which is perfectly reasonable since these meats are often quite easy to make, as with today's recipe.

Without a doubt the master of the family kitchen, Dad was a great cook and loved the things that reminded him of his ancestral home in rural Guangdong. He used to make cured meats and sausages when the family still lived in Taiwan, and this is very similar to one of his recipes. 

The meat has no saltpeter or curing salt in it, so it of course turns brown as it cures. The peppery crust, though, completely seasons the meat and seems to permeate every cell. This recipe will provide you with extra Ground Roasted Salt and Pepper, which you will soon find many uses for, as it is one of those seasoned salts that seem to complement just about every type of protein, including bean curd and eggs.

In the next post we will turn these beautiful cured pork strips into some divinely simple family dishes. Just like Dad's.

Seasoned salt rub 

Spice-crusted salt pork Hakka style  
Kejia xian zhurou 客家鹹豬肉  
Hakka

Makes about 1 pound, plus an extra ¾ cup or so of the Ground Roasted Salt and Pepper mix

1 pound natural pork belly

3 tablespoons white liquor (gaoliang; see Tips)

4 tablespoons whole Sichuan peppercorns

2 tablespoons whole white peppercorns

2 tablespoons whole black peppercorns

½ teaspoon five spice powder

1 teaspoon fennel seeds

5 tablespoons sea salt

½ teaspoon sugar

1.  Rinse the meat and pat it dry. Cut it lengthwise into 3 or 4 long strips. (You can keep any skin on, if you want, as it will be removed before you cook the salt pork.) Rub every inch of the meat with the white liquor and let it marinate while you prepare step 2.

2. Dry fry all of the peppercorns, five spice powder, fennel, and salt (but not the sugar) over low heat until the peppercorns start to pop and the salt turns a darker color. Cool the seasoned salt and then grind finely. Mix about 3 tablespoons of the seasoned salt with the sugar, and then rub this mixture all over the pork strips so that every single area is thoroughly coated. (The rest of the seasoned salt should be sifted and all of the larger grains tossed out; store the fine salt in a covered jar, where it will stay fresh for weeks.)

3. Place the coated pork strips in a plastic container or resealable plastic bag along with any of the white liquor and seasonings that are still hanging around. Cover the container or close up the bag and refrigerate for at least 4 days. Shake the pork around twice a day so that each area of the meat gets evenly cured.

Roasted spices & salt

4. Try a piece to see if it is done to your liking by cutting off an inch and rinsing it thoroughly. Slice it thinly and fry without extra oil; it should have a wonderful aroma of spices and liquor, and you will not need to add any additional seasonings. If you want to let it get more infused with the flavors, leave it in the cure for another day or two. When it's just as you like it, pour off all of the juices and liquor, but don't rinse off the pork. Just remove the amount of pork that you want to cook and keep the rest refrigerated. It will stay perfect for at least a week.

Tips

As always, use the best natural pork available. The pork can come with skin or without, as it doesn't matter here.

Try to get pork that is half fat and half meat. In Chinese, pork belly is known as wuhuarou, or "five flower meat." What this means is that you should ideally have a nice layer of fat under the skin, then a layer of pink meat, then a layer of fat, then a layer of meat followed by a layer of fat. There might even be six layers if you are lucky, although four layers is fine, too. 

This layering in pork belly is what makes the cut so luscious when cooked right. As with Dongpo Pork, the fat acts as a buttery interlude between the thin layers of muscle, rendering them tender and juicy. 

The best white liquor for this and other cured meat recipes is, in my opinion, Taiwan's gaoliang liquor. The island of Kinmen (aka Jinmen) off the coast of Fujian is renowned for its gaoliang, and while it costs close to $30 for a bottle, it lasts a long time and possesses a wonderful fragrance.

Be sure and sift the leftover seasoned salt before you use it. Sichuan peppercorns, in particular, can be really annoying if left in largish pieces, as they become rock hard and end up feeling like sand between the teeth.

Easy Beijing-style smoked chicken, plus toasted peppercorn salt

Smoked chicken sounds so exotic, not to say tasty, that it must be hard, right? 

The fact is, smoking a bird is totally easy and will ensure your reputation as a terrific Chinese cook.

I've been making smoked chickens for decades now, and started out with Barbara Tropp's recipe in her wonderful Modern Art of Chinese Cooking. 

In fact, if you don't have her book in your collection, get it, if for nothing else than her detailed description on how to set up a home smoker. I will offer some simple advice on that here, but for the answer to every question you might have about Chinese-style smoking, check out the late great Tropp's book.

Smoked chicken is one of those delights that can be made well in advance of any party, is about 100 times simpler than it looks, and probably would convince the most die-hard vegetarian that maybe just a nibble would be all right.

All you need to do is get a good, organic, free-range chicken so that it is full of chicken-y flavor. Then, rub it all over with either gaoliang (white liquor) or Shaoxing rice wine and a finely ground mix of roasted Sichuan peppercorns and sea salt, steam it for about an hour until it's about 80% done, and then pop it into a smoker, either in a DIY job (see below in step 3) or in something like the little stove top smoker that I have happily used for quite a while now. If you have any leftovers, they are beyond delicious in salads, sandwiches, and everywhere else, while the juices have a divine smokiness that demands a hot bowl of noodles to do them justice.

Steam the chicken on a trivet

If this is the first time you've attempted smoking something, read the directions and tips through a couple of times so that every step becomes very familiar. Turn on the stove fan as high as it will go and open a couple of windows for cross ventilation if your fan is less than strong. You will pretty soon find yourself smoking salmon, trout, pork belly, hardboiled eggs, and just about anything else that will fit. It's just that delicious.

The Toasted Sichuan Peppercorn Salt is a delightful condiment to have on hand. Use it to season fish or poultry, as the resiny aromas make seafood and chicken taste fresh and lively. It also is handy as a dip for steamed chicken, sprinkled in fried breads, or rubbed into pork roasts. The main requirements are that you use fresh peppercorns for their sprightly flavor and that you grind them as finely as possible, since any coarse pieces feel like grains of sand in the mouth.

Beijing style smoked chicken 

Jīngshì xūnjī  京式薰雞

Beijing

Serves 4 to 6 as a main entree, 8 to 12 as part of a multi-course meal

Chicken:

1 whole roasting chicken (about 5 to 6 pounds); use a large whole fryer if a roasting chicken is not available

4 tablespoons gaoliang white liquor or Shaoxing rice wine

2 tablespoons Toasted Sichuan Peppercorn Salt (below)

Smoke:

½ cup dry, uncooked rice of any kind

½ cup dry tealeaves of any kind

½ cup  sugar of any kind

A couple tablespoons of aromatics (dried orange peel, star anise, stick cinnamon, etc.)

Toasted sesame oil

1. Clean the chicken and pat it dry inside and out with a paper towel; rinse and pat dry the giblets, if you like. Place the chicken in a large work bowl and rub half of the liquor inside the cavity and then rub half of the peppercorn salt in there, as well. Massage the outside of the chicken with the rest of the liquor and peppercorn salt. Toss in the giblets with the marinade and let the chicken marinate for an hour or so.

Steamed and placed in the smoker

2. Spray a trivet and a large, high-rimmed, heatproof platter with oil. Lay the chicken on the trivet and tuck the giblets into the chicken's cavity; pour the marinade over the chicken. Place the chicken in a steamer and steam on high heat for about an hour, until the chicken is about 80% done, adding more water to the steamer as needed. To check for doneness, pierce the thigh with a skewer; it should go in easily but release pink juice. Remove the chicken from the steamer (and the giblets from the cavity) and let it cool to room temperature, and then place it in a breezy area so that the skin dries completely.

Smoking permitted in my kitchen

3.  Prepare your smoker by lining either the old wok or the smoker's fuel bowl with heavy foil. Place the rice, sugar, and aromatics in the smoker and place either an oiled rack or an oiled smoker's tray over the rice. Position the chicken in the center of the smoker. Place the smoker on a rear burner (where there usually is better suction for the overhead fan) and turn the heat under it to high. Wait until the smoke begins to emerge in thick plumes (see the second photo from the top), and then cover the smoker; if you are using an old wok, wrap the foil lining up around the edge of the lid, leaving only a small opening for the smoke to escape. 

Toasted Sichuan peppercorn salt 

Huājiāo yán  花椒研 

All over China

Makes about 1 cup

1 cup Sichuan peppercorns

½ cup sea salt

Peppercorns and salt

1. Place the peppercorns and salt in a dry wok and stir them over medium heat until the salt turns tan and the peppercorns start to pop; it should smell fragrant at this point and the peppercorns should smoke a little bit. Remove the wok from the heat and let the ingredients come to room temperature. 

2. Grind the roasted peppercorns and salt very finely. They should have the texture of talcum powder, so do this as finely as you can. The powder can be shaken through a fine sieve if blender or spice grinder is not up to the job.

3. Store the peppercorn salt in a jar and keep it in a cool, dark place.

The texture of baby powder

4. Smoke the chicken for about 10 to 15 minutes, turn the chicken over, and smoke it for another 10 to 15 minutes, depending upon the size of the chicken and how hot your stove is. The chicken is done when the skin is a dark mahogany color, as in the photo at the top of this page. Remove the chicken from the steamer and let it come to room temperature. The chicken may be made ahead of time up to this point and refrigerated.

5. Lightly rub some sesame oil on the skin to make it shine. Use a cleaver to cut the cold chicken into whatever size pieces you want. If the chicken is still pink inside, or if you want to serve the chicken hot, wrap the chicken in foil and bake at 350 degrees F for about 15 minutes, or until heated through.

  

Tips

A good quality bird that is fresh and plump will make this dish flavorful and especially tasteful, so I always use an organic, free range chicken. You can also use chicken parts, like legs and thighs, if you prefer. Chicken livers can be easily steamed and smoked if you thread them on bamboo skewers first, since they will not fall apart that way; just be sure to not steam or smoke them too long.

The gaoliang or rice wine will remove gamy smells in the same way that the peppercorns do, resulting in a chicken that tastes particularly fresh. Taiwan's gaoliang from the island of Kinmen (Jinmen) is especially good.

Steaming the chicken until it is almost done ensures that the meat will be juicy and not overcooked, since it will be subjected to further heat in the smoker. 

Steam and smoke the chicken on a trivet, which allows both the steam and the smoke to flow easily around the bird.

Cut up the chicken with a sharp cleaver or heavy knife while the chicken is still cold. This way, the meat will not fall apart and the bones are less liable to shatter. Then, rearrange the chicken into a pleasing pattern, which usually means putting it back together again like a puzzle.

Vary the flavors by using different aromatics and wines.

Directions from All Under Heaven!

Save your stale uncooked rice and tealeaves for the smoker; you won't be able to taste whether they are fresh or not here, since they end up being little more than fuel. Don't bother wasting good tea or rice on the smoker.

To make your own smoker, use an unfinished (i.e., not nonstick) steel wok with a tight-fitting lid that you will never use for stir-frying again, since this high dry heat will ruin the finish. Good places to find old woks and lids are second-hand stores, garage sales, and so forth. 

Drawing copyright (c) Carolyn Phillips, 2015

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