A signature Shanghainese flavor made at home

One of the classic flavors of the lower Yangtze River area is fresh salted mustard greens. 

Often available in Chinese supermarkets nowadays, you will find it either in refrigerated plastic bags or canned. However, you can make this at home with minimal effort, ensuring that it truly is fresh and tasty.

           

I have always loved the subtle spicy hint in these greens that is courtesy of their mustardy volatile oils. 

This characteristic is most obvious when you take a nibble of the fresh darker leaves, and it becomes mellower as the vegetable is cooked, as can be enjoyed in a Hunanese recipe for mustard stems cooked with schmaltz and ginger (jīyóu jiècài  雞油芥菜).

Baby radish (L) & xuelihong greens

With salting, though, this nose-tickling tendency gets tamped down even more, providing a really delicious hit of flavor that turns almost buttery when it is chopped and fried. In next week’s post, I will show you how to use it in a classic dish from the coastal town of Ningbo in Zhejiang province: sliced rice cakes with bamboo shoots and fresh soybeans, with the xuelihong adding just the right amount of salt and seasoning. (Fun fact: I could go through bowls of that without breaking a sweat.)

           

Summer and autumn are the times when true xuelihong mustard greens appear in Chinese markets, their long stems and wrinkled leaves offering the perfect counterpoint of crunchiness and softness when they are salted. Just about any variety of mustard will do, though, and I have even made it from Chinese radish greens numerous times when I could not find any mustard that grabbed my fancy. (Korean markets are excellent sources for the baby radish greens as pictured above on the left.)

           

Wilted greens

The only caveat is that all of these greens—and especially radish greens—can be terribly gritty, and just a single microscopic grain will ruin your enjoyment of these sensuously salted greens, so wash and wash and wash them until every speck is gone. I usually soak the fresh greens in a big basin of warm water, which softens the dirt and makes it easy to dislodge. Soak the greens at least three times this way (use the water on your plants if you don’t like wasting it), swishing the greens around vigorously after their soak. When the water at the bottom of the basin is absolutely grit free, then you can proceed.

           

Salting them is an easy affair. Shake the greens dry and then either towel-dry them or whirl them in a salad spinner to remove the surface water. Then, place them in a large, clean bowl and massage them with the salt. That is pretty much it. Use the salted greens within a week for optimum flavor and texture.

Salted Shanghainese greens

Xuělĭhóng 雪裏紅 or xuělĭhóng 雪裏蕻

Jiangsu, Zhejiang
Makes about 2 cups chopped greens

2 pounds (more or less) xuelihong mustard greens, other mustard greens, or fresh Chinese radish greens

2 tablespoons coarse sea salt

1. Rinse the greens thoroughly and shake dry. Tear the greens in half or thirds and dry them either in a salad spinner or wrapping in a dry tea towel. Cut the thick stems in half.

Spin off the water

2. Place the greens in a large work bowl and sprinkle them with the salt. Then, lightly rub the salt into the greens for a few minutes. Let the greens sit in the bowl, tossing them every 5 minutes or so, for about 20 minutes, and then let them rest in the bowl for another 40 minutes until the leaves and stems are limp.

3. Use your hands to squeeze out the liquid from the greens, handfuls at a time, and place the greens in a resealable plastic bag. Close the bag and refrigerate the greens for a day or two. Chop the leaves and stems into approximately ¼-inch pieces. Return the greens to the bag and keep them refrigerated, and use them within a week. Rinse the greens under cool tap water and squeeze dry before using.

Raw radish threads with scallion oil

Sometimes when I try a new recipe or dish, I am surprised. 

More times than I like to remember, it's because it tastes truly awful, and other times the recipe needs serious tweaking before it is good enough to make again. 

Occasionally, though, the dish turns out to be so spectacular first time around that I'm flummoxed, because just looking at the ingredients gives no clue as to what is in store. 

This is one such dish. It caught my eye when I was rearranging up my cookbook shelves. An old 70's paperback by Huang Shaomo (writing under the pseudonym Yunlinyisou) called Zhongguo mingcai caozuofa (How to make famous Chinese dishes) listed this as its first recipe. 

Radish & my trusty grater

I had never heard of it before, but it looked oddly intriguing, and the fact that Mr. Huang started out his book with it lent it a certain importance. After making it, I discovered why: it's brilliant.

This simple appetizer or side dish manages to contain the essence of Jiangsu province's home-style cooking, where the humblest ingredients are polished to a delectable shine and then enjoyed without artifice or excessive foofing up.

In Chinese this dish is called Radish Threads with Scallion Oil, a deceptively nondescript name, but it really is little more than shredded raw radish topped with green onions and hot oil. The original recipe calls for the football-shaped Chinese radish, but you can use Chinese icicle radish or even colored radishes, for that matter.

Shredded radish

I know that I go on and on about balance and yin and yang and all of that, but it's a truth about Chinese cuisine than just cannot be denied, because (to my mind, at least) that is where the genius of her greatest dishes lies.

Here we have bits of green contrasting with snowy white, soft against crisp, cooked along with raw, salty rubbing up against a pile of sweetness. It's a stunning study in using the minimum number of common ingredients to create the maximum amount of impact.

Right now before spring heats up is the time to enjoy the last of the cold weather vegetables. Chinese radishes are still at their peak, but before long they'll start getting dry and woody, so think about trying out this recipe while you can. 

A happy surprise

It's best started at least a couple of hours before you want to serve it so that the radish threads have a chance to chill, and then you can enjoy it alongside anything rich and savory, like Smoked Chicken or Soy Braised Yellowtail Collar. Your taste buds will thank you.


Raw radish threads with scallion oil 
Congyou bailuobosi 蔥油白蘿蔔絲  
Jiangsu
Serves 4 to 6 generously as a side dish or appetizer

1 fresh, white Chinese radish (2 pounds or so)
2 teaspoons sea salt
3 green onions, trimmed
4 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil

Pour on the hot oil

1. Peel the radish and trim off the root end; if you are grating it by hand, leave on the stem end so that it can act as a handle, but otherwise discard it.

2. Grate the radish either by hand or with a food processor. I personally prefer the long threads that are made with a Chinese grater, but this certainly isn't a deal breaker.

3. Place the grated radish in a colander set in the sink or on a large plate. Toss the radish threads with the salt and let the moisture from the radish drip out over an hour or two.

4. Gently squeeze clumps of the radish threads between your hands to remove the remaining water, and place the squeezed radish in a medium work bowl; refrigerate the threads for at least an hour or two so that they become completely chilled.

Quickly cooked onions

5. Slice the green onions as thinly as you can and place in a heatproof bowl. Heat the oil in a small saucepan or wok until it just barely starts to smoke, and then immediately pour it over the green onions. Use chopsticks to move the onions around in the hot oil so that they cook evenly, and then let the onions and oil come to room temperature.

6. Up to an hour before serving, thoroughly toss the radish threads with the onions and oil; taste and adjust seasoning, if necessary.

Tip

See this post for advice on selecting juicy, fresh Chinese radishes.

Sichuan's gorgeous radish pickles

Now that the Christmas season is upon us, I have been devising an Asian-American feast for Zester Daily that will be published as a series over the next couple of weeks. Some of the sides, though, will be linked to here so that I don't have to give them short shrift, including these pickles, a super easy sweet potato recipe from Shanxi, the savory fava bean pâté from Shanghai, and my favorite sesame rolls from Sichuan. 

Add to this a turkey that is flavored with the deep soy marinades of northern China, a lotus-wrapped risotto from Guangdong, and even a sorbet inspired by the island province of Hainan, and you have many of China's most enticing cuisines represented on one groaning table.

Today we'll look at some truly effortless pickles which are so good that people clamor for the leftovers. Very different from the spiced peaches, sweet gherkins, and watermelon pickles that my grandmother used to serve with our family feasts, the basic idea of combining sweet and tart to combat and complement rich flavors seems to stretch across all sorts of cultures and food traditions. For example what would a pastrami on rye be without a kosher dill? 

The Chinese too often like gently tart pickles to accompany roasted poultry dishes, and here is a traditional version from the central Chinese province of Sichuan that works particularly well for a holiday dinner. It is extremely easy to make, can prepared days in advance, and tastes wonderful even in the next day’s turkey sandwiches. 

An Asian radish trio

I have used some watermelon radishes as shown in the photos here, which ended up supplying a beautiful red hue to the pickle and made it look even more Christmassy than usual. (Shown in the picture to the right, starting from the upper left and going clockwise, is a green Chinese, Korean, and watermelon radish.)

But go with whatever mild Asian radishes you have in your area. Icicle radishes (also known as daikon) and even regular little Western radishes can be used in a pinch, and they look lovely too with their pink rims and white centers.

One delicious variety that you should look out for is that football-shaped Korean radish with a green top and white body. These radishes are so mild that I often peel and slice them up to munch on like apples. Very sweet and not in the least hot or gassy, these are a true cold weather treat!

Icicle radish pickles 
Chuanshi pao luobo 川式泡蘿蔔   
Sichuan

That same trio sliced

Makes 1 quart

4 pounds Chinese, Korean, or Western radishes, trimmed
1 tablespoon sea salt
2¼ cups pale-colored rice vinegar
1½ cup sugar
1½ cup water
5 to 10 small fresh chilies, or to taste
2 tablespoons sliced ginger

1. Start this recipe anywhere up to 4 days before you wish to serve it. Peel the Chinese or Korean radishes and halve them before slicing each half into thin slices with a knife or mandoline slicer. If you are using small Western radishes, just trim off the rootlets and leaves before slicing them. Place the sliced radishes in a large colander, set it on a large plate and toss the radishes with the salt. Let the radishes sweat for 1 or 2 hours to remove most of their moisture.

Prepare a spicy-sweet vinegar

2. While the radishes are sweating, mix the vinegar, sugar, water, chilies, and ginger together in a medium, non-reactive saucepan and bring the pickling solution to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and gently cook for about 20 minutes; taste and adjust the seasoning. Remove the pan from the stove and let the pickling solution come to room temperature.

3. Grab small handfuls of the radishes and gently squeeze out most of the moisture, but don’t rinse them. Just place the squeezed radishes in a 1-quart bowl, pour the pickling solution over them, and refrigerate covered for up to 4 days. Drain however much of the pickles you wish to use and serve them chilled.