January soup for the stomach and the soul

Hubei is so speckled with still bodies of water that it is known as "the land of fish and rice." And the name is apt, for fishing is a major part of Hubei culture and fish is featured at almost every meal. But another important resource is harvested in those ponds, as well: lotuses.

Pink lotus blossoms cover the lakes and ponds of Hubei in high summer. Their leaves are gathered around this time and used as scented wrappers for pork and chicken or desserts. Also harvested are the heavy green pods filled with ivory seeds that can be found inside the flowers. These pods are soft and delicate when fresh and starchy when dried. The greatest harvest of all, though, happens after the leaves have died and the cold winds send the plants into hibernation. This is when the long, white rhizomes are dug up.

Harvesting these rhizomes is backbreaking work. The roots are hidden under many feet of thick cold, gray mud, and the workers have to gently feel around with their feet for the roots, and then pull them out without breaking them. The most prized rhizomes are the fat, long, juicy specimens that taste just like a meaty vegetable. They are delicious in this hearty soup, which is best served in late autumn or winter, the peak of the lotus root season.

Lotus, Chinese yam, & wolfberries

So, only go shopping for lotus roots when it's cold out, as that is when these will be fresh and juicy. Look for fat rhizomes 2 to 3 inches wide with as little bruising as possible. They should feel heavy, which tells you that they were harvested recently. Chinese markets will often sell these in long, unbroken lengths of three or four rhizomes, and if I see them proudly displayed that way, I can never resist, because this shows real pride in their produce.

Feel the roots all over for signs of squishiness, which signifies rot. You want these rock hard, and if you gently rap on them with your knuckles, you should be rewarded with a satisfying thump. Store them in plastic bags in the fridge with a paper towel if they are at all wet, and that will help preserve their quality. Remove the skins with a potato peeler, pare off the hard nubbins on both ends, and then clean out the long holes, using a chopstick to dislodge any dirt. However, if you did your job well and selected prime lotus roots, you probably won't find any mud squirreled away in there. 

Get plump specimens for the pot

In this version I’ve added another cold weather favorite, Chinese yams, or shānyào 山藥. These are weirdly wonderful vegetables that are delicious raw, when they are crisp and sweet. They're also great cooked, which turns them soft and more vegetal. The Chinese revere them as highly nutritious any way they are prepared, and they are touted as having anti-inflammatory properties, good for the skin, and so forth. They’re low in starch and sugar, too, which makes them great for folks on diets.

Me, I just like them, and so into the pot they go.


Lotus root, Chinese yam and pork rib soup
Lián’ŏu shānyào páigŭ tāng  蓮藕山藥排骨湯
Hubei
Serves 4 to 6 generously

About 1 pound pork back ribs or pork neck 
2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
2 inches fresh ginger
3 or 4 green onions, trimmed
2 quarts boiling water, plus more as needed
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine, divided
Sea salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon sugar
1 hefty lotus root (around one pound, about 6 x 3 inches)
1 (one pound or so, about 6 x 2 inches) Chinese yam
¼ cup wolfberries (aka gouqi or goji berries), optional

Fry the riblets

1. Start this recipe at least a day before you want to serve it. Have your butcher slice the ribs or neck into 1-inch pieces. Pat the meat dry. Heat the oil in a wok over medium-high until it starts to smoke, and use tongs to lower the meat into the hot fat. Brown the meat on all sides and then remove them to a large (4 quart or so) sandpot or stockpot.

2. Brown the ginger in the wok and then add it to the pork. Add the green onions (leave them whole) and cover the ribs with the boiling water. Pour in ¼ cup rice wine before bringing the pot to a full boil. Lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Cook the pork uncovered for around an hour, or until the meat is tender. Let the pot come to room temperature, and then keep it in a cool place overnight.

Simmer the soup for 30 minutes

3. The next day, skim off the fat, if you like, and discard the limp cooked onions. Add more boiling water to the pot to bring it up to its original volume, heat the soup to a boil, add the salt, pepper, and sugar, and adjust the seasoning as desired.

4. Peel the lotus root and roll cut (see Tip) it into pieces about an inch wide. If you see any mud at all inside there, wash it off carefully. Peel the Chinese yam and cut it into pieces about the same size as the lotus root chunks. Add the lotus root, Chinese yam, and optional wolfberries to the soup, and bring it to a boil again before lowering the heat to a simmer. Cook the lotus roots until tender, about half an hour. Stir in the 2 tablespoons rice wine and a bit more boiling water, if desired. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Portion out the soup into large individual bowls and serve hot.

Tip 

Hard vegetables like carrots and lotus roots are often roll-cut, which gives them a nice range of textures in one bite: soft along the edges, but firm in the center. To do this, hold one end of the vegetable firmly against your cutting board and use this same hand to rotate it as you slice it on an angle with the other hand. What you are aiming for here are slightly triangular wedges. There's no need for accuracy, so just practice away until you get the hang of it. 
  

Beans & rice Chinese style

Chickpeas (aka garbanzo beans) are not usually associated with China’s cuisines. In fact, until I started cooking out of the classic cookbook Suiyuan shidan I had no idea that there was even a Chinese chickpea recipe to be had. But lo and behold, they were not only eaten in the Zhejiang region 250 years ago, but they must have been around long enough before that to develop a healthy following, for the two garbanzo recipes in that book are quite good.

One that has turned out to be a favorite in our house is chickpea congee. I know, it doesn’t sound like much, but just like down-home rice and beans, this is a healthy and delicious combination. The chickpeas lend a gentle nuttiness to the rice porridge, their mealy texture mingling very nicely with the silky rice. It’s hard to explain, but its simplicity is part of its charm.

The author of the Suiyuan, Yuan Mei, described this dish in his usual concise manner: “Crush chickpeas for the congee; fresh ones are the absolute best, although older ones will work. Add Chinese yams [shanyao 山藥] or fuling 茯苓, and it will be outstanding.” (Fuling—also spelled fu ling—is a type of fungus that looks something like a little coconut. Wolfiporia extensa also has medicinal properties, and it is generally only found in Chinese herbal shops.)

I cannot wait until fresh chickpeas hit the market later on in the year, as I now know exactly what to do with them!

Mash up the chickpeas

If you read Chinese, you might notice that the word for chickpeas in Chinese is, literally, “chicken bean,” and as the old English word “pease” meant beans, this looks like the name might have been adopted from some European folks. It’s strange, though, as chickpeas are such a vital part of Arabian and Indian cookery that they didn’t cause there to be a Chinese riff on the word “hummus” or “gram.” Oh well, a linguistic puzzle to gnaw on. (Chickpeas have another Chinese name, yīngzuĭdòu 鷹嘴豆, or “eagle’s beak bean,” that also has me scratching my head.)

Mr. Yuan's suggestion that Chinese yams be added is inspired because they add a delicious lightness to the porridge and subtle textural contrast with the rice 'n beans. Just like the beans, though, they should be cooked until they are v-e-r-y soft in order to make this recipe perfect. I cut them into bits about the same size as the chickpeas so that they cook quickly; see the Tips below for more information on this relatively unfamiliar tuber.

This is a gentle, nourishing dish that is perfect for breakfast or a late night snack, although I would not refuse it at other times during the day. Serve it with whatever you like. I usually surround big bowls of it with small savory things like the tribute vegetable in the previous post, some brined eggs, fried eggs, Chinese sausages, fermented bean curd cheese, toasted peanuts… even leftovers seem to shine when cossetted by such a velvety porridge. Sweets lovers could toss some of those peanuts on top along with a sprinkling of sugar or honey (maybe even a pat of butter). Fried crullers (youtiao) are excellent, too. I mean really, the list is endless.

Chickpea congee

Jīdòu zhōu  雞豆粥

Zhejiang

Serves 2 to 4

  

½ cup broken jasmine rice

½ teaspoon peanut or vegetable oil

¼ teaspoon sea salt

8 cups filtered water

1 cup cooked chickpeas (canned or ones you soaked and cooked yourself)

Optional: 1 cup finely diced peeled Chinese yam (see Tips)

1. Rinse the rice in a fine strainer, drain well, and place this in a 3-quart pot. Toss the damp rice with the oil and salt, and then let it marinate for at least an hour.

2. Pour in the water, stir, and bring the pot to a full boil before lowering the heat to a gentle simmer. Cook the rice for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Chinese yam's hairy legs

3. If you are using canned chickpeas, rinse them in a strainer under tap water. Lightly mash about half of the chickpeas and then add all of them to the pot. If you want to add the Chinese yams, do that now, too. Stir and cook the porridge a while longer until it has thickened and both the chickpeas and yams are super soft and creamy. Serve just barely hot, but not steaming. Reheat any leftovers in the microwave.

Tips

Find Chinese yams in most East Asian stores, where it sometimes is sold under its Japanese name, nagaimo. It has numerous health benefits, so it is often added to nourishing soups. These can grow to enormous lengths, but usually are sold in more manageable sections of a foot or so long.

That lovely goo

To prepare these yams, rinse off the sawdust (that's what they are packed in to keep them dry), and then use a potato peeler to remove the thin skin. The insides are smooth, white, and very slippery, and will exude a mucilaginous goo that can appear quite alarming, as there are few things that do this, other than David Bowie in "The Man Who Fell to Earth." 

Rinse off the goo, if you want, to get a better grip, but be aware that more will appear, especially as you cut it more. Unlike things like taro, though, this is not a skin irritant, but rather just looks incredibly weird. Even so, you can eat it raw, as it is mild and crisp.