Time to break out my favorite Chinese salad...

Summer Solstice was last week, and I don't know about you, but I always get sad on this day knowing that the days will start to grow shorter. I luxuriate in the long days and short nights of summer, feeling less lazy if I get up late since I know there will be plenty of sunlight throughout the evening. Perhaps I should grow wings and learn to migrate...

But autumn does have its definite good points, cooler weather being one. Until then, summer has finally hit the inland parts of our area with a blazing vengeance.  

Cool, crisp cucumbers

Last night the thought of actually cooking something seemed way beyond my abilities, so I dug around in the fridge and pantry and came up with the main ingredients for one of the best summer dishes around.  Its Chinese name is pretty prosaic and not really up to the challenge of stimulating a heat-ravaged appetite - shredded chicken with mung bean sheets - so I'll tell you what I usually call it: Manchurian chicken salad.

This is a popular appetizer in the northern provinces, with lots of places laying claim to inventing it, and who wouldn't want credit for something this tasty and easy? But from what I've been able to ferret out from following its sesame-scented trail, this is a native of China's far northeast, the New England - if you will - of China.

Fenpi from Tianjin

The only unusual ingredient is the dried mung bean sheets (fenpi), but you'll find this in just about any Chinese grocery, and it is quite happy to sit around on your shelf for ages. (Try it too in a No Excuses Tomato Casserole with Mung Bean Sheets.) The labels will have different translations of what it is, like "green beans starch sheet" in the photo on the right, but check out what the actual sheets look like down on the left. Also, there will often be something on the package that says it's from the port city of Tianjin, which tells you you're on the right track. If you don't have access to fenpi, whip up the basic ingredient in this super delicious summer recipe that calls for mung bean powder, and you'll be in business.

Tender little cucumbers bring a ray of cooling summer freshness to this dish, and I like to have leftover chicken on hand anyway whenever the heat takes off; in this case I bought a whole roasted chicken at a local farmers' market. However, if you don't have any chicken on hand, steam a couple of boneless breasts while the mung bean sheets are soaking, and they'll be ready in no time.

Dried fenpi

Mustard is a relative newcomer to Chinese cuisine, but it's entrenched itself firmly into many local dishes. Cantonese dim sum would be unthinkable to me without the sharp bite of Colman's mustard to cut the rich pork that adorns so many of its dishes. You can use Colman's here, too, by just mixing the powder with enough water to give it a creamy consistency. And that would be fine. But it wouldn't be great.

To really kick this dressing over the edge, use a nice Dijon-style mustard. It has a mellower edge that cozies up really well with the sesame paste. Bits of green onion and raw ginger give enough zip to entertain your taste buds, so the addition of a hot mustard here to my mind just ends up being startling instead of tasty.

The perfect dressing

Traditionally, this dressing is not cooked, but I've found that mixing it together in a small skillet brings the flavors together more and mellows them out. It also gives the sesame paste the chance to melt and smooth out, so you don't get any lumps.

This recipe makes twice the amount of dressing you'll need for an appetizer, but I am firm in recommending that you make this extra amount because it is a fabulous salad dressing. In fact, last night I whacked up a head of lettuce and divided it among two big dinner plates. Then, I layered this appetizer over each of the piles of lettuce and had an incredibly good salad. And the dressing was the exact amount needed.

You can make your own sesame paste, by the way, especially if you have a cup or so of Toasted Sesame Seeds.  Just whiz it away in a blender with some roasted sesame oil, and you're in business. It's really really cheap this way and tastes miles and away better than anything you can find in a store.

Manchurian chicken salad 

Jīsī lāpí  雞絲拉皮 

Northeast

Serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer, or 2 to 3 as an entree

Bean sheets:

3 sheets dried mung bean sheets (fenpi)

Boiling water to cover

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil 

Chicken and cukes:

12 to 16 ounces cooked, boneless chicken

2 Persian (or other small seedless) cucumbers

Dressing:

1 inch fresh ginger, peeled

1 green onion, green part only

½ cup toasted sesame paste

½ cup toasted sesame oil 

2 tablespoons good dark vinegar (like balsamic)

3 tablespoons sugar

¼ cup light soy sauce

3 tablespoons prepared mustard (Dijon is great here)

¼ cup water

Garnish:

2 tablespoons Toasted Sesame Seeds

Small bunch of cilantro, optional

Soaking the fenpi

1. Place the dried mung bean sheets in a large work bowl and pour the boiling water over them to cover. The sheets will begin to soften in a few minutes, so if any areas are sticking above the water, use your tongs to jab them down under. Allow the sheets to soak and rehydrate for about half an hour while you prepare the rest of the meal. (If you are making this a couple hours ahead of time, soak the mung bean strips during the last hour so that they don't become an unmanageable tangle.)

2. Shred or cut the chicken into thin strips. (You can remove the skin, if you like, but I enjoy the added texture and flavor that skin can bring.) Trim the ends off of the cucumbers and split them lengthwise before cutting them in half across the middle; cut each piece into thin strips as shown on the right. Cover the chicken and cukes and chill them until it's time to serve this dish.

3. Finely grate the ginger and chop the green onion leaves into small pieces. Melt the sesame paste and sesame oil together in a small skillet, using a silicone spatula to scrape the bottom. Add the vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, and mustard, and then mix them together and take a taste, adjusting with more of anything so that it tastes really good. Stir in the ginger and onions, and then loosen up the dressing with the water; you should end up with a sauce that has the consistency of heavy cream. Let it cool down by pouring it into a wide bowl. (You can make the recipe ahead of time up to this point and chill everything.)

Silky sheets in the kitchen

4. Drain the mung bean sheets and pour cold water over them, but do this carefully; they will have turned completely clear at this point and are rather fragile. You probably won't have to cut them since they tend to fall apart into bite-sized pieces all by themselves. Gently toss them with the bit of sesame oil to keep them from sticking together.

5. Just before serving, layer the mung bean sheets on your serving platter, then the cucumbers and chicken, and pour half of the dressing over the top. Garnish with the sesame seeds and cilantro, and have the extra dressing on the side for anyone who cares for more.

Heaven on a plate

In this salad, the ingredients sparkle and refract colors like a stained glass window.  There's a rich combination of opaque, transparent, and solid hues that give depth and texture to its beauty.

But that's not all.

The scent of the sea imbues each bite, and yet this is not overwhelming... it's not low tide on a plate.  Rather, there's that characteristic balance that is the hallmark of any great Chinese dish.  Crunchy agar strips may taste bland, but they also lighten the flavors, and they are as clear as glass.  Thin cucumber ribbons too play a supporting role here, but they offer a freshness and almost a melon undertone to each mouthful.  A sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds provides a nutty punch, and this is probably the last flavor to remain on your palate, while the sparkling red Chili Oil punctuates the first barrage to hit your taste buds. You might be working with two of these ingredients for the first time here, so let me introduce them to you.

Agar strips

First up are the agar strips.  Agar comes in many forms - in blocks and as powder, as well as noodle-like strips - and is made out of a type of seaweed that has been processed into its present state.  So, agar (or agar-agar or yangcai or kanten) is in fact just another variety of sea vegetable that's showing up in today's mix.  Do be aware that once it's soaked, dried agar blooms into many times its original size, so don't be too enthusiastic about reconstituting the entire package.

In this recipe, you only need to cut off about a quarter of the skein, and the rest can be packaged back up and saved for another day; it will keep pretty much forever if stored in a dry and bug free place.

Agar needs minimum processing when it is used in cold dishes.  All you have to do is rinse it, soak it in cool water for a few minutes, and then in hot tap water for about another five, and then rinse it again in cold water.  What this does is wake up the agar, softening it without melting the strips, and then snapping it back into shape again.  As you do this, watch the agar turn from hard pieces that look like dried cellophane (fensi) noodles into flexible whitish strands, then into a clear soft tangle, and then into translucent lengths that are once more firm.  It's entertaining, or at least for me it is.

Agar as slithery strips

Next up are the sea vegetables.  You can use plain seaweed if you wish, but look around for mixed sea vegetables, since they offer lots more variety, whether in taste, color, or shape. You sometimes can find them fresh, but they are more commonly sold packed in salt in little bags; a health food store is a good place to find them.  Keep these packages sealed and in the refrigerator until it's time to use them.  Then, just rinse the sea vegetables under running cool tap water to wash off the salt, soak them in some cool water to reinvigorate them, and then drain the vegetables thoroughly before adding them to your salad; they shouldn't be cooked or even blanched.

This recipe could easily be from any area along China's coast, so it's hard to say where this salad originally hailed from, but it is enough of a culinary chameleon to fit in just about any cuisine.  The sprinkling of red hot Chili Oil only serves to disturb the search for its lineage, but I offer it to you anyway in the hopes that you love this jewel of a salad as much as I do.

Salted fresh seaweed mixture

Spicy sea vegetable salad 

Hóngyóu hǎicài shālā  紅油海菜沙拉 

Eastern China

Serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer

About ¼ of a (1.5 ounce) package of agar strips

8 ounces (or so) mixed sea vegetables packed in salt

1 small Persian cucumber, julienned

½ teaspoon sea salt

2 tablespoons light-colored, flavorful vinegar

2 tablespoons sugar

1 clove garlic, minced very finely

Chili Oil to taste, or roasted sesame oil to taste

Toasted Sesame Seeds

Cut up the dried agar

1. Use a pair of scissors to lop off that piece of agar strips and wrap up the rest for some other time.  Place the strips in a colander and rinse under cool running water to remove any dust or debris.  Place the strips in a work bowl and cover them with cool tap water for a couple of minutes, drain, and then cover with hot tap water for another 5 minutes to fully reconstitute them.  Then, drain the strips and rinse them with more cool tap water.  Cut the strips into 1-inch lengths and drain well.

2. Rinse the sea vegetables in a colander with cool tap water and then place in a work bowl.  Cover the sea vegetables with cool tap water for a few minutes to wake them up, and then drain thoroughly in a colander.

3. Place the agar, sea vegetables, and cucumber in a clean work bowl with the salt, vinegar, sugar, and garlic.  Mix together, adjust the seasoning, and refrigerate for at least an hour.  Just before serving, taste again and add more salt, sugar, or vinegar as needed.  

4. Pile the salad on a pretty plate, sprinkle with Chili Oil or sesame oil, and dust the top with the sesame seeds.  Serve cold as an appetizer or side dish in hot weather.

Taiwanese potato salad sandwiches

Tracy, Enzo, & sammie

This is a guilty pleasure of mine, a tiny monkey that has been on my back since my years in Taiwan. It seems to have Japanese origins, but no matter, as this is an indelible part of Taiwanese snack culture. 

Summertime is when this dish is most popular, which makes sense, as that is when potato salad makes the rounds of our own barbecues and picnics.

What makes this such a treat is not only the many different flavors and textures that find their way into the mix — anything from apples to ham to peas to corn to cucumbers to whatever you would like to toss in — but also the total carb fest it becomes when it is served inside of soft baked buns. 

Kewpie!

Taipei’s bakeries used this salad to stuff small, round breads, and the resulting contrast was perfect, so that is what I have set out to achieve here. I therefore recommend King's sweet rolls, a Hawaiian staple that matches the salad deliciously.

Another vital component is Kewpie mayonnaise, the Japanese mayo that seasons so much of Taiwan’s fusion dishes. I don’t know what they put in this dressing, but it’s irreplaceable. American-style mayonnaise is good, but the potato salad will then taste like American food, and that misses the point. Be generous with it, too, as it is the main seasoning.

I enjoy all the colorful bits and pieces that give the salad a good variety of color and texture. Who knew that peas could be so good in this, or that ham provides just the right jolt of saltiness, or that apples supply such a nicely sweet undercurrent? 

Summer delight

Plus, you get to mix and match the ingredients to suit your taste. Use all or some or none of the options — it’s all good. When serving this at a party or barbecue, I often offer one vegetarian salad and one with the ham, one with Kewpie and one with wasabi mayo (see Tips), so that everybody is happy.

Try this soon. Summer will never be the same.

Taiwanese potato salad sandwiches

Mayo & hot potatoes

Mǎlíngshŭ shālā miànbāo 馬鈴薯沙拉麵包

Taiwan

Serves 12

Potato salad:

3 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes

Kewpie brand (Japanese-style) mayonnaise, as needed

1 medium carrot

1 medium onion, preferably a sweet Maui onion

½ cup frozen baby peas

1 Fuji (or other tasty variety) apple, unpeeled, cut into small (¼-inch) dice, optional

½ cup ham cut into small (¼-inch) dice, optional

4 hard-boiled eggs cut into small (¼-inch) dice, optional

2 Japanese or Persian cucumbers cut into small (¼-inch) dice, optiona1

Freshly-ground black pepper

Hard-boiled eggs

24 sweet raised rolls

1. Rinse and peel the potatoes. Cut them into ½-inch dice and place them in a saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and cook only until the potatoes can be easily pierced in the center. Remove from the heat, drain, and dump these into a medium work bowl. Toss these with about 1 cup mayonnaise while they are still very warm so that they absorb the dressing.

Chop stuff to same size

2. Peel the carrot and onion, and cut them into ½-inch dice. Place the diced carrot in a small saucepan, cover with water, and simmer only until they are barely cooked through. Drain the carrots and add them to the potatoes along with the peas (which do not have to be defrosted). Blanch the onion in boiling water for a minute to make it milder, then drain and add to the potatoes. Add whatever other ingredients you like from the suggested list, and then lightly toss them with just enough mayonnaise to nicely coat each bit and add black pepper to taste. Cover the bowl and refrigerate it for at least a couple of hours — and preferably overnight — so that the flavors combine.

Get rolls like this

3. To serve, lightly toss the salad again and add more mayonnaise to taste. If the rolls or buns are not already sliced open (they are usually cut horizontally in the States), slash them down the center of the top and gently squeeze the breads open. Either fill the breads with the salad or set them out for your guests to fill themselves. Keep the salad cold at all times, especially in hot weather.

Variation: For a more adult-oriented salad, use half wasabi-flavored mayonnaise and half Kewpie. 

Cool salad for a hot spring day

Jicama is an odd tuber. It seems rather unsure what it is: too sweet to be a regular old root vegetable and too subterranean to be a fruit, it comes across as a strange interloper in the plant community.

But I do like it. That sweet crispness more than makes up for its weirdness, and although I often fail to see jicamas in the market -- stored as they are with the other root vegetables, I'm always making a beeline for the garlic and ginger, I guess -- they never fail to please me once I decide to work with them.

This is definitely one root veggie that is better raw than cooked. In fact, I don't think I've ever been even tempted to apply heat to a jicama because in their raw state they are just so delicious. Peeled and cut into sticks, jicama is a perfect snack combining all the sweet juiciness of a pear with the healthy appeal of a vegetable.

Shanghai has a lovely take on jicama that does justice to its character, and as the days heat up, this is a nice dish to have stashed in the fridge as a quick and refreshing side.

The brilliance of this dish has to do with the textures. In addition to the crunch of the jicamas, there's also the slithery appeal of the agar. This appetizer is sometimes made with thick green bean noodles (dongfen), but they are no match for the gentle resilience of the agar. Besides, agar is just so pretty, standing out like crystalline strands against the opaque white.

Softened agar strips

No cooking or even hot water is required here, merely some slicing and dicing. Plan on marinating the salad for at least a couple of hours so that the dressing and the veggies get a chance to meet and greet. I like to put this together in the morning, as it will be just perfect for dinnertime. Leftovers will keep another day or so if refrigerated, but always add the cilantro at the last minute, as it will just wilt and lose its startling green color if exposed to acid (i.e., vinegar) and salt.

Jicama has a couple of different names in Chinese. Digua (ground squash) is the most common, but it occasionally is referred to as yangdigua (foreign ground squash), since the majority of vegetables that migrated into China have yang (literally "ocean," meaning that it came overseas, like yangcai or agar), or hu (literally the name of the non-Han nationalities in the Chinese northwest, so something that is introduced over land, like hujiao or black pepper), or fan (foreign, like fanqie or tomato).

Lots of history in a name!


Sweet and sour jicama salad 
Tangcu digua 糖醋地瓜  
Shanghai

Marinate the veggies

Serves 6 to 8 generously as an appetizer, 4 to 6 as a side dish

0.5 ounce dried agar strips (a bunch about 1 inch thick and 12 inches long)
Filtered cool water as needed1 small (12 ounce) jicama (see Tips)
2 red jalapeno peppers (or to taste)
1 tablespoon sugar, or to taste
5 tablespoons white rice vinegar, or to taste
½ teaspoon sea salt, or to taste
10 or so sprigs of cilantro, stems removed

1.  Place the agar strips in a large work bowl and cover with the cool tap water while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

2. Peel the jicama with a potato peeler, and be sure to remove any tough webbing underneath the brown skin. Trim off the ends of the jicama and cut the tuber in half. Cut it into ¼-inch slices, and then across into ¼-inch strips. Place the jicama strips in a work bowl.

Soft and beautiful agar

3. Remove the caps, seeds, and interior ribs from the jalapenos before cutting them into very thin strips. Add the jalapenos to the jicama.

4. When the agar is soft and transparent, drain it thoroughly before cutting it into lengths that are about the same size as the jicama. Add to the bowl with the jicama.

5. Sprinkle the sugar, vinegar, and salt over the salad and toss well. Cover and refrigerate for at least a few hours. Just before serving, carefully rinse and dry the cilantro, and then chop it coarsely. Toss it into the salad, and then taste and adjust the salad's seasoning. Serve chilled or just slightly cold.

Tips

Choose jicamas that are hard and feel heavy for their size. Avoid any with mushy spots or shriveled stem ends. 

Refrigerate any jicama that you do not use right away, and keep them very dry, as water can cause rotting.

Feel free to use any kind of chili pepper that you enjoy. If you are serving children or people with no tolerance for heat, try substituting red bell peppers or fresh pimentos.  

Agar strips can be found in most East Asian groceries, as well as in some health food stores. It keeps practically forever if sealed in an air-tight bag.