And you thought chicken was boring

The Yellow River begins in China's northwest province of Gansu, and so this vital source of fresh water makes the foods of this province quite a bit different from that of its neighbors to the west, where the desert swallows up whatever little rainfall hits the ground.

This is also an area – at least along the banks of the river in southern Gansu – where Han Chinese congregate and enjoy foods that show more eastern influences and ingredients than is usual around here. Chicken, pork, green vegetables… these are all part of the local cuisine, but they still possess a bit of western flair.

Take this dish, for example. Chicken is steamed and served over spinach. Right there you have three things that are rather unusual for a nominally desert area: chicken, steaming, and spinach. It’s just too hot in most of the Arid Regions for poultry to be raised easily, steaming requires that valuable commodity – water – to be used merely for cooking, and spinach needs lots of water and a cool growing season.

And yet, this definitely is a different take on chicken. Moist, deeply satisfying, and a complete meal all by itself, it is flavored by two things that set it apart: Sichuan peppercorns and the dried bamboo shoots pictured above called yùlánpiàn 玉蘭片, or “magnolia petals,” because they often are small, white chips.

Delectable

Dried bamboo shoots are one of those Chinese ingredients that add underlayers of rich savoriness, a flavor the Chinese call xiān and the Japanese, umami. Much like the huge array of dried mushrooms cooks employ all over the country, this vegetable takes on a different character depending upon what variety of vegetable is used, how it is prepared, and how it is stored.

 

Over the years, I have come to enjoy many different kinds of dried bamboo shoots, each one having very different flavors and textures depending upon where they were made, what kind of shoots were used, whether the shoots were fermented or dried, crushed or shredded, salted or not. 

The Taiwanese and Hakkanese, for example, revel in a sour, fermented bamboo shoot that is terrific with pork and dried squid. I particularly like the salted little shreds called, sensibly enough, xiánsŭngān 鹹筍乾 (salty dried bamboo shoot) that usually come from the Yangtze River area. 

You can find these in attractive bamboo baskets that will lure you in by their beauty, which is a good thing, as one container will probably last you most of your adult life.

Steamed chicken southern Gansu style  
Lŏngnán qīngzhēng jī 隴南清蒸雞 

Gansu
Serves 3 to 4

Ready for the steamer

Chicken:

¼ cup dried wood ear mushrooms

¼ cup dried bamboo shoots of any variety

Boiling water, as needed

1½ pounds chicken wings (see Tips)

3 green onions, trimmed

1 inch fresh ginger, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon ground toasted Sichuan peppercorns or whole Sichuan peppercorns

½ teaspoon salt (if unsalted shoots are used)

Spinach:

4 packed cups spinach leaves, washed carefully

Small bunch of cilantro, cleaned and trimmed

2 tablespoons rice wine

1 tablespoon cornstarch

1 tablespoon mingyou or toasted sesame oil

1. Place the dried bamboo shoots and the wood ear mushrooms in two small work bowls and cover with boiling water. After about 15 minutes, empty out the water and use fresh boiling water to cover the shoots and mushrooms. Let them soak until they are fully plumped up.

2. While the bamboo shoots and mushrooms are soaking, rinse the chicken and pat it dry. Cut the wings into three segments; you can keep the wing tips and use them in this dish or reserve them for stock. Place the chicken in a medium heatproof bowl. Drain the shoots and mushrooms. If they are in large pieces, cut them into thin julienne before adding them to the chicken. Add the whole green onions to the bowl along with the ginger, ground peppercorns, and optional salt. Place the bowl in a steamer (see Tips) and steam the chicken for around an hour, adding more water to the steamer as necessary.

 

Plumped shoots & 'shrooms

3. Remove the chicken from the steamer; pick out and discard both the green onions and ginger. Drain the juices into a wok and boil the juices down over high heat until you have about ½ cup left. Add the spinach and quickly toss the leaves in the hot juices until they wilt. Use a slotted spoon to remove the spinach to a rimmed serving plate or bowl and form a ring or nest, and then place the chicken inside of this ring. Top the chicken with the cilantro. Mix the rice wine with the cornstarch and stir into the wok to thicken the juices. Add the mingyou and pour the hot sauce over the dish. Serve hot.

Tips

If you prefer to use a whole chicken, cut it into smallish pieces and double the rest of the ingredients.

When steaming the chicken, make sure that there is at least 1 inch clearance between the bowl and the steamer cover so that the steam can circulate.

Store dried bamboo shoots in a pantry in an airtight container or bag.

Use either ground or whole Sichuan peppercorns here. Whole is traditional, but if you don't like biting down on them, used finely ground ones instead.

Dining on lily bulbs Buddhist style

Of all the many dishes we ate in lovely Lanzhou in Gansu province – right at the headwaters of the Yellow River – this was the most memorable. Just before we set sail to visit a Buddhist shrine upriver, we ate at a Buddhist restaurant. Everything was vegetarian, of course, but even more importantly everything was 素 sù, the Chinese word for super-strict vegetarian that includes no garlic or chilies or onions or ginger or anything else that could be considered an addictive flavor.

Now, I am a proud chilihead, and I don’t get that shaky when deprived of my peppers, as long as it’s not more than a day or two. Really, I’m fine. And yet, could see how someone striving for Nirvana would want to put any earthly desires to one side, including all of the aromatics I reach for automatically whenever I’m cooking.

Be that as it may, dishes that highlight only the natural flavors of a few ingredients can sometimes be magical. Take this one, for example. It is simple in every way and yet quite beautiful, the bright red berries shining against the ivory petals of the lily bulbs. They glisten with only a bare sheen of oil, and a subtle shake of salt provides the barest whisper of savoriness against the delicate sour and sweet notes.

The bulbs all cleaned up & snowy

The most difficult ingredient to find here are the lily bulbs. They come into season only in late fall and are imported from Lanzhou, the capital of Gansu province. Yes, they are available dried, but don’t even think about using them here because dried bulbs are starchy and flat-tasting. 

If you see the fresh ones in a Chinese market any time of the year, snap as many of them up as you can. Then, use half for this dish and plant the other half… they grow easily in almost any temperate climate, and soon you will be able to revel in them whenever you choose.

Lily bulbs and wolfberries 
Bǎihé chǎo gōuqĭ 百合炒枸杞 

Gansu
Serves 4 to 6 

¼ cup organic dried wolfberries (gouqi or goji, see Tips)

Boiling water as needed

4 fresh Lanzhou lily bulbs, about 10 to 12 ounces total (see Tips)

1 tablespoon fresh peanut or vegetable oil

½ teaspoon sea salt, or to taste

1. Place the wolfberries in a medium heatproof bowl and cover them with boiling water. Let the berries plump up while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

The good, bad, & ugly

2. Prepare the lily bulbs by first using a paring knife to trim off any roots or discolored areas. Working on one bulb at a time, hold it over a colander and gently peel off the “petals” of the lily bulb until you cannot peel off any more; cut the center in half or quarters. Repeat with the other bulbs until they are all separated into petals. Rinse the petals under cool running water and lightly toss them over the sink to remove most of the water. Pick over the petals and nip off any discolored bits.

3. Drain the wolfberries, straining out the liquid into a measuring cup, and if you have less than ¼ cup of the soaking liquid, add just enough water to reach that mark.

4. Heat the oil in a wok over high heat and add the salt. Swirl the wok around to melt the salt and then add the wolfberries, the soaking liquid, and the lily bulb petals. Quickly stir-fry them over high heat only until the liquid boils. Taste one of the petals: it should be cooked and sweet but still crisp. Serve hot or warm.

Tips

Do not use any other variety of lily bulb for this dish other than those that come from Lanzhou lilies, as not all lilies are edible. The Latin name for the Lanzhou lily is Lilium davidii, and they look very much like tiger lilies when in bloom.

Select the most perfect ones you can

Most of these lily bulbs will be sold in small plastic bags, as shown to the right. Look at them carefully through the tiny window and select only those that are pure white; less pretty ones will be jammed into the back of the bag out of sight, of course, but do the best you can. I always buy more than I need, as noted above in the headnotes, both to compensate for the inevitable bad bulb or two, and also to have more to plant.

Dried lily bulb petals are also sold in Chinese markets, but please do not use them here! They turn starchy and tasteless when they are dried, which is fine for slow-cooked things, but here the crunch and the sweetness of the fresh bulbs are absolutely essential.

Wolfberries are called gouqi in Chinese and goji in Japanese. Use caution when purchasing them from Chinese markets, as some are dyed red or have been subjected to heavy pesticides or pollution.

I prefer to get my gouqi from either a good Chinese herbalist or from reputable health food stores. Organic wolfberries are becoming increasingly available, too.

Select berries that are plump, the color of ripe persimmons, and as large as possible. Check for insect infestation by shaking the bag around, and discard any that show holes or that have dark, round dust (= insect poop) at the bottom. Store them in a freezer bag in the freezer if you are not using them within a month or two, as this will keep them fresh.

Dining on chicken and chilies in Gansu

Out in the great northwest region of China, chickens are just not a big deal. The main proteins there have always tended to be animals that thrive in the dry climate and are able to graze on whatever the land manages to provide. 

In short, that means sheep. Cattle and goats are lower down on the list, way lower, and the poultry and pigs that populate every other area’s cuisines are here more or less the province of the Han Chinese living in the cities. For the minority peoples who live out in this area’s deserts and plateaus and wind-swept mountains, though, well, they like to eat lamb and mutton.

And yet, the chicken dishes that do manage to be made around these parts are savory and intriguing, partly because local cooks make the most of this rare ingredient, often by first blanching or steaming the bird before frying it, which capitalizes on the juiciness while turning every bit of the skin into a crunchy layer, or else frying it before tossing it with an enticing sauce, which is what we have here.

Chilies, onions, ginger & garlic

In this dish, two other items that are prized members of the cuisine of Gansu – as well as of Shanxi and Shaanxi provinces – are featured: chilies and dark vinegar. Using fresh green chilies here instead of red ones emphasizes their herbal nature and keeps the crispy bits from becoming too sweet. The vinegar also tones down the sweetness, its friendly tartness perking up the appetite and punching extra flavor into each bite. (Because of safety issues, I have substituted apple cider and balsamic vinegar for the usual black Shanxi vinegar here.)

In fact, the traditional recipe for this dish is so radically on the tart end of the equation that nothing at all tames those sour notes, which is probably a great idea in an area where the heat can be so oppressing. I've played around with this a bit, though, and added a small amount of rock sugar, which smooths out the vinegar’s tendency to overpower all of the other flavors. It’s a matter of taste, though, how much sugar you want to add, or even whether you want to add any at all.

I’ve also used only chicken wings here, dismantling each one into three parts, which evens out the cooking times and gives the sauce more places to cling to. The result is a moist mouthful of tender meat edged with a crunchy crust that is wrapped with a delicately sweet and sour and spicy sauce, the many aromatics lending extra texture and color to each bite.

Chicken with green chilies Gansu style 
Dàkuài làzi jī 大塊辣子雞 
Gansu

Serves 4 to 6  

Chicken:

12 whole chicken wings

¾ cup cornstarch

Spicy & savory

3 tablespoons regular soy sauce

5 tablespoons rice wine

Frying oil (peanut or vegetable)

Aromatics:

6 cloves garlic

2 tablespoons finely chopped ginger

½ cup sliced green jalapeno chilies (see Tips)

4 green onions, trimmed and sliced on the diagonal

Sauce:

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

4 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 tablespoons regular soy sauce

2 to 4 tablespoons rock or white sugar, optional

4 tablespoons sesame oil

Filtered water, as needed

1. Rinse the chicken wings and pat them dry with a paper towel. Cut each wing into three pieces; you can keep the wing tips for this dish or save them for stock, whatever you prefer. Mix the cornstarch with the soy sauce and wine in a medium work bowl, and then toss in the wings. Coat them evenly with the thin cornstarch mixture.

Northern fried chicken

2. Heat about an inch of oil in a wok over medium-high and add a third or a quarter of the wings to the hot oil. Swirl the wok around to shuffle the pieces apart and coat them with the oil. When one side is browned, turn the pieces over and continue to fry them until they are completely golden brown. Remove them to a plate. Repeat with the rest of the wings until all have been fried; keep the chicken in a warm oven if your kitchen is cold.

3. Drain out all but about 2 tablespoons of the oil. Heat the oil over high and add all of the aromatics; stir-fry these quickly until they are fragrant. Scoot the vegetables up the side of the wok, lower the heat way down low, and add all of the sauce ingredients, using the smaller amount of sugar to start with. Smack the rock sugar as it starts to melt, as this will break it apart and speed up the melting process, and add some filtered water as needed to keep the sauce fluid. When the sugar has melted, taste and adjust the seasoning, adding more sugar or any of the other ingredients as desired. Again, add more water as necessary so that you have at least ½ cup sauce in the wok. Turn the heat up to high and add the hot fried chicken. Toss it with the sauce and aromatics until the chicken is evenly coated. Serve hot.

Tips

Use other cuts of chicken, if you prefer, or even a whole chicken cut into smallish pieces.

The traditional recipe calls for green chili peppers, and they add a nice herbal zing to this dish. Feel free to substitute whatever fresh chilies you like here, as hot or mild as you like.