If your idea of a good time is to eat in a
Cantonese deli, join the club. I love few things as much as a place with birds and pig parts hanging in the window, and
my favorite restaurants include a handful of places that know how to make the
perfect roast duck, char siu (sweet
Cantonese pork), and siu yuk, or
roast pork (called shaorou in
Mandarin). The problem is that I always order too much, and so I usually haul
lots of leftovers home.
Roast duck and char
siu don’t need much work to make them shine again the next day (just heat
them up on a broiler tray in the oven at 350°F), but siu yuk’s skin will soften and the meat will congeal a bit, so I’ve
come up with a couple of strategies to enjoy them in whole new ways.
One of
them is this, a riff on a traditional Hakka treat that usually calls for fresh
pork belly. Since siu yuk is made
with the whole side of a pig, it’s a perfect fit, and easy to boot.
Cantonese roast pork with taro
Yùtóu shāoròu 芋頭燒肉
Guangdong
Serves 4 to 6
Taro and pork:
1 pound (more or less) mature taro
1 cup frying oil (used all right if it smells
fresh)
8 ounces (or so) siu yuk
Sauce:
¼ cup thinly sliced fresh ginger
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 green onions, trimmed and chopped
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons mild rice wine
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon five-spice powder
1 cup boiling water, divided
Chopped cilantro for garnish, optional
1. If you are allergic to raw taro, wear gloves
while working with it. (I do.) Use a potato peeler to remove the skin, trim off
any damaged areas, and rinse the taro before patting it very dry with a paper
towel. Slice the taro into pieces that are about an inch wide all around. Pour
the wok into a wok, set it over high heat, and add about half of the taro to
the oil when it starts to shimmer. Reduce the heat to medium and stir the taro
occasionally as it fries. When one side is hard and even puffs up a little,
turn that piece over. Remove the taro with a Chinese spider and chopsticks,
shaking off most of the oil as you go, and place it in a clean work bowl. If
your deli has not cut up the siu yuk for
you, slice it into pieces around the same size as the taro; large bones can be
cut out and reserved for something else (see next week's recipe!). Have a wide, heatproof, rimmed plate
ready. Arrange the taro and pork in an overlapping pattern
(pork-taro-pork-taro) in the plate, and if you have extra taro, slip it in
between some other slices. Place any awkward-looking pieces in the center of
the dish and cover them with prettier ones.
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| Fried taro slices |
2. Next, make the sauce: Drain out all but 1
tablespoon of the oil in your wok and place it over high heat. Add the ginger,
garlic, and green onion to the hot oil and stir-fry them for a few seconds to
release their fragrance. Stir in the rice wine, fermented bean curd, sugar,
five-spice, and ½ cup boiling water. Mash the bean curd so that it dissolves
well and bring the sauce to a boil. Pour this over the pork and taro.
3. Place the pork and taro in a steamer and steam
this for 1½ hours, adding more water to the steamer as needed — this dish can be
made ahead of time up to this point, cooled, and refrigerated. Pour the extra ½
cup of boiling water into the pork dish and steam it for another 30 minutes.
The taro should be soft but not falling apart at this point. Taste the sauce
and adjust the seasoning as needed. Sprinkle with chopped cilantro, if you
like. Serve hot.
Tip
I like to use Cantonese-style doufuru here. It's a bit funkier, not at all sweet, and adds a nice edge to the seasoning. I also prefer it when there are flecks of chili in the sauce, as this adds just a suggestion of heat to this dish. Taiwan's Hwang Ryh Shiang 黃日香 brand is the one I usually get, as it is very creamy and has good balance. It comes from Daxi 大溪, a village that lies not too far from Taipei, and for some reason the doufuru from that place is almost always spectacular.
![]() |
| Cantonese-style doufuru |
Tip
I like to use Cantonese-style doufuru here. It's a bit funkier, not at all sweet, and adds a nice edge to the seasoning. I also prefer it when there are flecks of chili in the sauce, as this adds just a suggestion of heat to this dish. Taiwan's Hwang Ryh Shiang 黃日香 brand is the one I usually get, as it is very creamy and has good balance. It comes from Daxi 大溪, a village that lies not too far from Taipei, and for some reason the doufuru from that place is almost always spectacular.




