Fresh Manchurian sausage

Situated up in the northeastern regions of China, Manchuria was once a vast land of little but wilderness. It is such a cold region extending even into Russia that Vladivostok lies to its southeast, and in its northernmost regions permafrost reigns.

This is the land of nomadic peoples who somehow managed to conquer China at least twice -- leading to the short-lived Later Jin dynasty, as well as China's last imperial house, the Qing -- and the latter especially left a distinct stamp on the culture and foods of North China. 

Fond of wild game, the Manchus who established the Qing brought a taste for venison with them, a taste that they perhaps indulged in more than the deer population could withstand.

Raw sausages

So, as the Manchu rulers settled down in Beijing, supply outstripped demand, and the deer they were accustomed to enjoying gradually disappeared. An enterprising chef somewhere along the way met this challenge with aplomb and found a way to imitate one  particular food the Qing nobles enjoyed: Fried Deer Tails. And that is the dish we are going to look at today.

To be honest, I have to take the word of others as to whether this really tastes like the original dish, as I have never tried real deer tails. However, that doesn't really matter, as this is one tasty sausage even without the venison.

Ground pork and liver are mixed with green onions, garlic, seasonings, and pine nuts before being stuffed into sausage casings. Much easier than it sounds if you have a sausage stuffer at hand, this actually comes together quite quickly, so that everything but a last minute fry can be done way ahead of time, making it perfect for a party.

I have taken a few small liberties here, the main one being the substitution of chicken livers for pork liver. I prefer the lighter taste of the chicken ones and enjoy the way that they sidle up to the pork with all of the familiarity of the ingredients in a French pâté.  In fact, if you ate this without knowing its background, you might think that it was a very exotically seasoned dish out of Dijon with maybe a detour through Paris's Chinatowns.

Cooked and cooled

So, if anything, this shows how much similarity there is between what are probably two of the greatest cuisines the world has ever known: Chinese and French. Ginger, though, as well as soy sauce, sesame oil, and Shaoxing rice wine place this sausage squarely in the realm of Chinese cuisine.

This is an uncured sausage, so it is poached until completely cooked through to prevent it from spoiling. Then, just before serving, the sausages are slowly fried in peanut oil to crisp up the exterior and give some nice textural contrast to the soft, meaty interior.

Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I would be happy to put one in a toasted bun with a nice slathering of mustard and enjoy it with a nice, cold beer.

Fried “deer tail” sausages  
Zha luwei 炸鹿尾  
Northeast

Makes four 8-inch sausages

Sausages:

4 ounces very fresh chicken livers (about 5)

1 tablespoon Shaoxing rice wine

3 feet salted sausage casings

1 tablespoon Shaoxing rice wine

2 ounces fatback (solid pork fat; see Tips)

1 pound good quality ground pork (about 30% fat; see Tips)

5 tablespoons raw, shelled pine nuts

3 tablespoons finely minced ginger

¼ cup finely minced green onions

5 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine

1½ teaspoons sea salt

Nuts, onions & garlic

2 tablespoons filtered water

¼ cup roasted sesame oil

Filtered water, as needed

2 cups peanut or vegetable oil

Sauce:

½ cup balsamic vinegar

Pinch of sea salt to taste

Either peeled, grated, older ginger or finely julienned young ginger

Or, ½ cup garlic vinegar from the Pickled Garlic recipe

1. Rinse the chicken livers and pat them dry. Remove any discolored areas and sinews with a paring knife. Cut the livers into small (¼ inch) pieces, place them in a small bowl, and pour a tablespoon of the rice wine over them while you prepare the rest of the ingredients; this will remove most of the impurities and give you a cleaner flavor (see Tips).

2. Place the sausage casing in a medium work bowl and cover with cool water. Rinse the casing carefully inside and out under running water. Squeeze all of the water out, pour a tablespoon of the rice wine inside the casing, and swish in back and forth inside the casing to further cleanse it; drain the casing.

3. Finely chop the fatback and mix it with the pork. Coarsely chop the pine nuts so that some are at least cut in half while others are more finely minced (see Tips). Add these to the pork, along with the ginger, green onions, 5 tablespoons rice wine, sea salt, water, and sesame oil. Drain the chicken livers, rinse briefly, and add them to the pork mixture before stirring it to combine the ingredients evenly.

Pierce the links

4. Stuff the casing according to manufacturer’s directions. Use kitchen twine to tie off the ends and then tie off sausage in four links, each of which should be about 8 inches in length.

5. Place the sausages as one coil in a large pan and cover with filtered water. Slowly bring the water to a boil and then gently poach the sausages for about 30 minutes; about 10 minutes into the cooking, use a bamboo skewer or toothpick to pierce each sausage in a couple of places, preferably where bubbles are forming (see Tips). Remove the cooked sausages to a plate and cool, and then cut them into links and remove the twine. (The sausages may be made ahead of time up to this point; refrigerate them if not serving them within a couple of hours.)

6. If you are not using the sauce from the Pickled Garlic recipe, mix the balsamic vinegar and salt to taste with either with the grated older ginger or the julienned younger ginger; taste and adjust the seasoning. Divide the sauce into small, individual serving bowls.

7. Just before serving, heat the oil in a wok or frying pan over medium heat until a wooden chopstick inserted in the oil just barely bubbles (see Tips). Wipe off any moisture on the sausages and gently place them in the oil. Slowly fry them on both sides until golden. Remove from the oil, drain, and slice on a steep diagonal. Serve immediately with the vinegar sauce.

Tips

Scrape off the tough fibers

Over the years, I’ve found that cleaning livers with wine really is a good way of getting rid of any off-putting flavors and smells. Most of the bile gets washed away, as well as the blood. Take the time to remove the tough strands in the livers, as they otherwise will make themselves known to your diners.

Use a good quality, organic, free-range pork if at all possible. Don’t use lean ground pork, as the sausage will be too dry, and do not eliminate the extra fatback, as this is what makes the sausage juicy. Pork sausage must contain a healthy dose of fat – there’s just no way around it.

Each sausage stuffer is different, so you might have to chop the nuts finer if your machine is unable to handle anything larger than a lentil; check the stuffer's instructions for how finely ingredients must be chopped.

Pierce each link after about 10 minutes to help keep the sausages from bursting, which not only doesn’t look very appetizing, but also dries out the meat. You want to keep as much fat in the sausages as possible, so limit the piercings to no more than three per link.

For the same reason, you do not want the sausages to explode in the hot oil. The best way to achieve this is to let the links come to room temperature (take them out of the fridge for an hour or two before frying), and insert them into oil that is not too hot. As they slowly fry, their internal heat gradually rises, and so there are no sudden bursts of juice popping out, which can be quite dangerous.

Mosquitoes, souls, and fried rice

Fall was in the air, as was the gray cloud of mosquitoes following me on my hike. They whirled around above and behind me in a frantic dance as if they knew that the coming frost would soon shoot them down, but they were content to bask in my heat rather than savor a last meal. 

These tiny companions on the trail reminded me of an ancient Chinese belief: that the soul of an evil man is crushed in a mortar when he dies, and this dust then takes flight as a swarm of mosquitoes. It also was thought that the souls of men and women didn't reside in their chests or brains, but rather hovered over their heads. That is why mosquitoes always like to cluster above us like buzzing eggs, for these fractured souls are drawn to the unbroken spirits of the living.

It was a long walk, and when I reached a windy area, the insects finally left me. The sudden gust of brisk air and my fast pace led me to ponder what would ease the gnawing in my stomach. Once I flashed on the contents of my refrigerator - including a container of cold rice and some savory Chinese sausages and cured meats - I knew exactly what we would be having: fried rice flecked with mushrooms, eggs, and those delectable meats. My walk down the hill suddenly was much faster than usual.

Cold weather is the time for both making and enjoying Chinese charcuterie. It seems that every region has its own specialties, and I would be hard pressed if forced to choose between Hakka salted pork, Jiangsu's "wind chicken," Hunan's gammon, the pressed salt-water duck of Nanjing, Taiwan's fat sweet sausages, and Cantonese cured meats and sausages, to name just a few. 

Chinese raw mixed grain rice

In the Chinese-style markets around here, though, the most common offerings come from Guangdong (aka Canton). Lovely long strips of fresh bacon called larou are cured and sometimes smoked, making a slightly dry meat that responds happily to steaming. Southern Chinese sausages tend to come in two forms - sweet pork sausages (lachang, or lop chong in Cantonese) and the darker duck liver and pork sausages called yaganchang - and nowadays you will almost always find them vacuum packed.

For the rice, I turned to something new: the blended whole-grains that offer more nutrition and flavor than plain old white rice. In addition to brown rice, these might also include purple, black, and red rice, as well as wheat, barley, and a grain called "maple-leaf rice." These also are available vacuum packed, but since they are whole grain, these varieties become stale fast and so should be closed-up tightly before being stored in the fridge and then used up within a month.

What I hadn't realized was that this new mixture makes superb fried rice. The chewiness and nutty flavor both add incredible depth to the dish, and they offer enough nutrition to make me think that this big bowl of comfort food might in fact have some redeeming factors. Be sure to steam the rice, rather than boil it, in order to preserve the chewy texture; you can steam it either in an electric rice steamer or in bamboo baskets, whichever you prefer.

There is one main rule for making fried rice that cannot be broken: the rice has to be completely cold. Anyone who tells you that freshly cooked rice can be used in a pinch is setting you up for a bowl of mush. So do as the Chinese do and keep your leftover rice; this is the absolute best use for it!

Toss the rice with vigor

Fluffiness is important in fried rice, too, and the only way to do that is to use a wok, a Chinese spatula, and toss the rice continually over high heat. Break up any clumps you run across and keep that spatula moving. You will be rewarded with a beautiful pile of ethereal rice that way. Also, sprinkle a bit of liquid on the rice as you toss it; this will shoot into puffs of steam that will also help to loosen up the rice and quickly heat it through.

When I use cured meats of any kind in fried rice, I always steam them with some Shaoxing rice wine. This does three things: it flavors the meats, softens them so that they are juicy rather than extremely chewy, and forms a lovely liquid that can be poured over the fried rice as it cooks, and this spreads the flavor into each grain. Serve this for a hearty breakfast or a delicious snack. But whenever you eat it, feel free to serve it in bowls with tablespoons for carefree munching.

Cantonese fried rice with sausages and cured meats 
Guangshi lawei chaofan  廣式臘味炒飯  
Guangdong

Serves 4 as a snack

Meats sprinkled with Shaoxing

2 Chinese sausages
6 inches Chinese cured meat
1 tablespoon Shaoxing rice wine
1 or 2 large organic eggs
3 fresh Chinese black mushrooms or rehydrated flower mushrooms
3 cups cold rice, preferably mixed whole-grain rice
Filtered water as needed
4 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil, divided
Reserved juice from the steamed meats
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
Sea salt to taste
2 green onions, trimmed and finely diced

1. Place the sausages and cured meat on a heatproof place, sprinkle them with Shaoxing rice wine, and then steam them for about 15 minutes. Reserve any juices for later. Trim the skin off of the cured meat and cut the meat into half-inch cubes. Cut the sausages lengthwise into quarters and then into half-inch wide cubes.

2. Beat the eggs lightly in a small bowl and set it next to the stove. Slice the mushrooms and then cut the slices into half-inch cubes.

3. Wet one hand and lightly toss the cold rice, separating most of the clumps and grains. Wet your hand as often as needed to keep the rice from sticking while you do this.

4. Set two small clean bowls and a serving platter next to the stove. Heat the wok over medium-high until it starts to gently smoke, add a tablespoon of oil, swirl the oil around in the wok, and add the eggs. Quickly fry the eggs until barely set, roughly chop them into half-inch pieces with your spatula, and remove them to one of the small bowls.

5. Heat another tablespoon of water in the wok over high heat, add the mushrooms, and stir-fry them for a few seconds before adding 3 tablespoons water. Quickly fry the mushrooms until the water has evaporated and the mushrooms are slightly translucent. Remove the mushrooms to the other small bowl.

6. Add the rest of the oil to the wok and heat it over high along with the diced meats. Stir-fry the meats until they start to crisp, and then add the rice to the wok. Toss the rice nonstop while it cooks, sprinkling it as you fry it with the reserved juices, fish sauce, and sugar. Taste the rice and add salt and more seasoning as desired. Cook and toss the rice for at least 5 minutes, or until it is light and fluffy. When it is almost done, toss the mushrooms and eggs. Toss for another few seconds and add the green onions. Toss for about 5 seconds to incorporate the onions and serve immediately while very hot.

Chinese sausage a la Kuhio Bar & Grill

Back when I was an erstwhile student at the University of Hawaii,  I would occasionally trek down the hill to the now defunct Kuhio Bar & Grill in Honolulu's Moili'ili district whenever I felt particularly flush. 

Kuhio was without a doubt the most unusual eating place I've ever patronized.  There was no menu for the amazing foods that came out of the kitchen, just a list of the local brews and other beverages.  

For the uninitiated, it was a bizarre place of unwritten laws and easy misunderstandings because food was not on the menu, but it was the food that was the main draw.

If you are confused, then you know how I felt when I first was lured in there by the delectable aromas that wound their way out of the front door.  It wasn't your usual bar with stale smoke and old rummies hanging onto the counter, but rather looked like a diner of sorts.  So, I wandered in, sat myself down, and watched steaming plates of fish, beef, Chinese sausages, shrimp, and noodles wind their way out of the little kitchen in the back before being placed in front of happy diners all around me.  The aromas were magnificent, perhaps even more because I couldn't figure out how to get anybody to serve me what the others were having.  I ordered a beer and saw a small plate of something unremarkable land in front of me.  I paid my tab, added fifteen percent, and walked out into the setting sun none the wiser.

I went home to my apartment on Poki Street and complained a bit until my roomie clued me in.

Taiwanese cabbage

"Fifteen percent?" Alohalani was astounded at my stupidity.  "You'll never get anything good that way. Carole's boyfriend tips something like 500% and gets lobster!"

"So what are you saying, you have to bribe the waitresses?" I asked.

"Boy, you're slow," said my always adoring roommate, and a few days later she hauled me back to Kuhio to teach me the ways of the world inside those dark, fragrant walls.

"First of all," she said as we clambered up on the bus, "get the same waitress every time. Let her see you as her faithful patron and work on building up a good relationship with her."

This seemed like a whole lot of work for a meal, but Alohalani was a real stickler about food, so I figured I'd just play along and see what happened.  We got off near Kuhio on King Street, entered the cool darkness, and seated ourselves at a booth that my roomie steered me towards, one that her waitress claimed.  "Two cold Primos," she said, smiling happily up at the Japanese lady standing over us.  Alohalani was in particularly good spirits, smelling the air, humming quietly, and looking for all the world like Christmas had just landed in her lap.

Before long, plates appeared on our table. This was nothing that we had ordered, just things that the waitress decided we might enjoy.  And like we did.  We dove into platters that still sizzled, and my favorite, the one that I've remembered and imitated after all these years, was the sweet Chinese sausages stir-fried with crispy pieces of cabbage.  Simplicity itself, this was made for beer.  I savored each salty morsel and wanted nothing more than to lick the plate.  Alohalani sat back with a satisfied look on her face.

"What just happened?" I asked.  She told me that the place was filled with nothing but regulars who knew their waitresses like old friends. And the waitresses knew what their clients liked. But it all depended upon the tips. The bigger tipper you were, the better the dishes. And soon you could arrange for lobster made to order. But I never got that far... I was always too broke. Little, though, could compete with my fragrant memories of that Chinese sausage, that crispy cabbage, that local beer, and my dinner at the strangest restaurant it's ever been my pleasure to try.

Hawaiian Cantonese food

This is a traditional Cantonese dish that uses the hard little sausages called lop cheong, or lachang in Mandarin. You can usually find these in Chinese grocery stores either in vacuum packs that don't need refrigeration or behind the butcher counter.  Keep them dry and cool (preferably in the fridge), and they'll be ready for you for a long time.

The cabbage I prefer to use is Taiwanese cabbage.  It is squat rather than round, and wonderfully crispy and sweet.  Select one that is heavy for its size and feels solid.  It should smell fresh, rather than like cabbage. Cut the cabbage into wedges as needed, and store the unused portion in a dry plastic bag in the refrigerator; it will keep for about a week.

In honor of my first initiation into the wonders of Chinese sausage, I've used Aloha Shoyu, a tasty Japanese-style soy sauce that goes very well with this stir-fry.  Add a cold Primo beer, and you'll be transported to Kuhio Bar & Grill circa 1975. Thanks again to Alohalani for my delicious initiation and for fine tuning my memories!

Cantonese sausage and cabbage stir-fry 
Guangshi lachang chao baoxincai  廣式臘腸炒包心菜 
Guangdong

Serves 6 to 8 as part of a multicourse meal, or 2 to 3 as a main dish

3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
1 tablespoon julienned fresh ginger
4 sweet Chinese sausages (lop cheong), sliced thinly on the bias
1½ pounds Taiwanese or head cabbage, coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons regular soy sauce
1 tablespoon rice wine
1 tablespoon sugar

Fry the cabbage after the sausage

1. Heat the oil in your wok over high heat until it begins to smoke. Add the julienned ginger and quickly stir-fry for a few seconds to scent the oil.  Toss in the sliced sausages and stir-fry them until they start to turn a deep brown on many edges, and even a few pieces are ever-so-slightly burned. Scoot the sausage up the side of the wok and away from the heat.

2. Sprinkle the cabbage into the center of the wok and quickly toss it in the oil so that most of the leaves are evenly coated.  Continue to stir-fry the cabbage over high heat until it is wilted and barely cooked but still sweet and crispy.  Toss the cabbage with the sausage, add the soy sauce, rice wine, and sugar, toss again, and adjust the seasoning as needed.

3. Serve immediately hot with lots of steamed rice.