Something special for the Lunar New Year table

Mark Saturday, January 25 on your calendar, boys and girls, for that is the beginning of the Lunar New Year. This time around we will be celebrating the Year of the Rat, as well as the beginning of a whole new decade that I hope will be much less stressful than the last and full of joy for you all.

With that in mind, I’m offering up this marvelous dish from Hunan. Its finished shape calls to mind the idea of togetherness or even a silver ingot (don’t get all judgey on me here… this is Chinese Culture 101), so it is an appropriately auspicious thing to serve as you usher in the New Year. 

As always, hunt down an excellent butcher to hook you up with this fresh pork hock (or shank). Its flavor is paramount to the success of the dish, and supermarket pork just won’t do. If you don’t have Shaoxing rice wine, sherry or even a dry white wine will work here, since it’s not a dominant flavor. 

Only a little bit of bean sauce is called for here (and, please notice, no soy sauce or salt), and that will probably end up being enough for your taste, as it imparts just a gentle salinity to the sauce and pork. Be sure and use a bean sauce that doesn’t have chilies in it, for this is a classic Hunan dish that offers up only muted suggestions of heat through the diced fresh chile that, of course, can way up be high on the Scoville scale if that is what spins your wheels. 

Make this over a leisurely three days to give the pork time to slowly braise and absorb the flavors while shuffling off the fat under its skin. This fatty layer will turn into a bit of buttery delight by the time you stick it in your mouth. And be sure and reserve the melted fat for something else—it’s flavorful lard that will be great in things like cōngyóubĭng (fried scallion flatbreads), where it will make those flaky layers even flakier. 

Hunan braised pork hock

Húnán zŏuyóu típăng 湖南走油蹄髈

Fresh pork hock

Hunan

Serves 6 to 8

Pork and first braise:

1 pork hock (about 3 pounds | 1.5 kg), bone in 

and skin on

Water, as needed

1 cup | 250 ml Shaoxing rice wine

6 garlic cloves, peeled but left whole

A handful of thinly sliced ginger

3 star anise

2 teaspoons ground toasted Sichuan peppercorns

Second braise:

1 tablespoon peanut or vegetable oil

2 tablespoons bean sauce (such as Sichuan-style dòubànjiàng 豆瓣醬 or Cantonese yuánshàichĭ  原曬豉 or 原晒豉)

1 tablespoon crushed rock sugar

2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

Blanched and ready to go

Finishing ingredients:

2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

2 teaspoons minced garlic

1 tablespoon minced ginger

1 red chile, seeded and finely chopped

2 green onions, finely chopped

1. Start this recipe at least 2 days before you plan to serve it. Place the pork in a saucepan, preferably one with a relatively tight fit so that lots of water are not needed, as this will dilute the flavors. Add water so that the pork is more or less submerged and bring the pan to a boil. Simmer for 10 to 15 minutes to blanch it, turning the pork over once or twice when you think of it. Dump out the water and rinse off both the pork and the pan. Return the hock to the pan.

2. Add the rice wine, garlic, ginger, star anise, and Sichuan peppercorns to the pork. Pour in enough boiling water to almost cover the hock. Bring the pan to a boil and then lower the heat to a bare simmer. Slowly braise the pork for 3 hours. Turn off the heat, cover, and let it sit overnight. 

3. Pour the oil into a small pan and add the bean sauce. Stir this over medium heat until the sauce simmers, and then scrape this into the pan with the pork. Add the rock sugar and vinegar, bring the pan to a boil, and then lower the heat again to a bare simmer. Braise the pork for around 2 hours. Turn off the heat, cover, and let it sit overnight. 

Pour on the sauce

4. Remove the melted fat that has solidified on top of the liquid. Remove the pork hock and place it on a rimmed heatproof plate bowl. Steam the pork for around 2 hours. It will be perfectly done when you can easily twist the larger bone in the hock. While the pork is steaming away, strain the braising sauce into a smaller saucepan and discard the solids. 

5. Remove the hock from the steamer and pour any juices into the smaller saucepan. Bring the braising sauce to a full boil and quickly reduce it until it starts to thicken—you should have about 1 cup | 250 ml of thick sauce. Add the finishing ingredients, bring the sauce to a boil, simmer about 5 minutes, and then taste and adjust the seasonings as desired. Pour the sauce over the hock and serve it whole so that your diners can enjoy it before you slice it into wedges. Serve this with hot steamed rice.

Smoked fish the Hunan way

Most folks who have experienced Chinese food only in Chinatown restaurants haven’t the slightest idea that smoked foods are a big deal in the motherland. 

It’s amazing, but just about every region has its own take on smoked meat, fish, and poultry, and they all have tiny variations that act as clues to where that dish originated. Sometimes it’s a huge sign, like lamb in Henan near the desert regions, and in other dishes the signposts lie within the potpourri of spices that perfume the marinade or the smoking mixture or even both.

Slash down both sides

Where they almost all are alike is that the animal is first cooked — usually by steaming or braising — while smoking it over tea leaves, rice, and sugar is a final fillip that seasons and colors, but no more.

This fish is pretty unique in that the fish is actually cooked over the smoke. To achieve this, slow-burning wood chips are used instead of the tealeaves and rice, which ignite quickly once they have sugar as a starter, and so heats up the fish slowly while seasoning every morsel. (Here's the link to directions on setting up a homemade smoker.) The name of this way of cooking says it all: shengxun, or “raw smoked.” And if you get your hands on a fish with a really buttery texture, like sablefish, it will turn into an amazingly creamy mouthful tinged with a healthy perfume of smoke. 

Grate your ginger

You can make this well ahead of a dinner party by marinating the fish and then freezing it. The smoking process can be done without much effort, but even then, they can be done a day or two in advance. The fish only needs to be heated up before serving.

Smoked whole fish Hunan style

Shēngxūn yú  生薰魚
Hunan
Serves 6 to 8 as part of a multi-course meal, or 3 to 4 as a main entrée

Fish:
One 2½-pound | a generous 1 kg whole fish (see Tip)

2 tablespoons grated ginger

2 tablespoons finely chopped green onions

1 tablespoon whole Sichuan peppercorns

2 teaspoons sea salt

1 tablespoon Shaoxing rice wine

Smoking:

Wood chip smoking nest

2 large handfuls of applewood smoking chips

¼ cup | 55 g raw rice of any kind

¼ cup | 25 g dry tea leaves of any kind

¼ cup | 30 g sugar of any kind

2 tablespoons sea salt

Finishing touches:

2 tablespoons finely grated ginger

¼ cup | 60 ml black rice vinegar

½ bunch cilantro, trimmed and chopped

¼ cup | 60 ml chile oil

2 tablespoons good salt, like a fleur de sel

¼ cup | 60 ml toasted sesame oil

Pre-smoked fish

1. Start this at least a couple of hours before serving. Clean and scale the fish, remove the gills and fins (keep or remove the head and tail, depending upon the size of your smoker and fish), and rinse it thoroughly under cool running water. Pat it dry with a paper towel, and then cut two long gashes down the sides of the fish parallel to, and about one inch | 2 cm from, the backbone.

2. Mix together the grated ginger, green onions, Sichuan peppercorns, and salt, and then rub a third of this mixture respectively into the insides of the fish and into both sides, paying particular attention to the long gash. Place the fish into a large, clean plastic bag and pour the wine into the insides and onto both sides of the fish. Tie the bag shut, place it on a plate, and refrigerate it for 2 to 8 hours to marinate.

Smoked and gorgeous

3. Prepare your smoker, lining the bottom with some foil. Spray the grate that lies over the center of the smoker with oil. Scatter the dry wood chips in an even layer on top of the foil. Place the covered smoker to the rear of your stove, turn the fan on high and open some windows for cross-ventilation, and turn the heat under the smoker to high.

4. While the smoker is heating up, remove the fish from the bag and knock off all of the aromatics from both inside and outside the fish, including the gashes. When the smoker starts to have little tendrils of smoke come out of it, place the fish right-side up on the grate, immediately cover the smoker, and lower the heat under the smoker to medium-high. Smoke the fish for about 25 to 30 minutes, or until it is almost — but not quite — done.

5. Mix together the rice, tea leaves, sugar, and salt. Remove the grate with the fish on it and sprinkle the rice mixture over the embers in the smoker. Return the grate with the fish to the smoker, cover it, return it to smoke for another minute or two at medium-high heat, and then immediately move the smoker off of the hot burner. Let the smoker cool down with the lid on and the fish inside it so that the fish is slowly seasoned by the tea. (The fish may be prepared up to this point ahead of time, cooled to room temperature, and refrigerated. When you are ready to serve it, warm the fish in a 275°F oven until heated through.)

6. While you are waiting, prepare the various condiments: combine the vinegar and ginger in a small bowl, and use other bowls or saucers of appropriate sizes to separately hold the cilantro, chile oil, and salt.

Liked smoked butter. Really.

7. Remove the fish to a serving platter. Just before serving, heat the sesame oil in a wok until it starts to smoke, and then pour the hot oil all over the fish. Serve it with the condiments. To eat, use chopsticks to pluck off chunks of the fish and dip them in the various sides as desired.

Tip
The best fish for this type of preparation is one with a buttery texture, like a small sablefish, amberjack, sea bass, or yellowtail. Get one that fits your smoker, so if you need to settle for a fish that is around 1½ pounds | 750 g, just adjust the seasonings accordingly. The main thing you want to pay attention to is the amount of salt, as extra ginger, green onions, etc., will not vastly change the flavor.

Shishito peppers Hunan style

Pork fried with fresh peppers is a Hunan classic, and it’s one we ate time and again in Taiwan.

We never tired of it because each restaurant had its own spin on the flavors: some added fermented black beans, other piled on the garlic, and some added really hot peppers into the mix instead of the usual mild green ones.

But the weather is finally warming up around here in the Bay Area and so shishito peppers are in season. I can think of no better way to enjoy them than Hunan style. Even if you are somewhat heat averse, you probably will love shishito peppers. 

Seared and luscious

These have a terrific flavor that really blooms when you gently fry them whole. 

In fact, they are a whole lot like Spain’s padrón peppers in that most are mild, they’re green, and they can be turned into some of the best appetizers and tapas you’ll ever find. (And if you can't find shishito peppers but the padróns are looking good, use them instead.)

Shishito peppers are, I think, from Japan. Or, at least, the name is. Shishi means “lion,” and tōgarashi means “pepper,” so you might think, well, this English name is a mash up, things were cut off in the wrong place, and by all rights these should be called shishi peppers. But then again, shishi in Japanese also means to pee, so I guess more thought went into it than appears on the surface.

Anyhoo, shishito peppers are at their tastiest when you slowly fry them in a minimum of oil until the surfaces are blistered and the insides are cooked. You don’t have to poke holes in them or remove the stems or seeds. Just rinse, pat dry, and fry. 

Now's the season

The main thing to remember is to not rush the process, but instead lovingly brown them over a period of about 15 minutes. The results are divine. The seeds are edible, and so the only thing you’ll end up tossing are the stems.

This tastes like early summer…

Shishito peppers and pork Hunan style

Xiāngshì shīzĭlàjiāo chăo ròusī  湘式獅子辣椒炒肉絲

Hunan

Serves 4

6 ounces | 170 g fresh shishito peppers

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

An updated classic

1 boneless pork chop (about 5 ounces | 150 g), frozen for about 30 minutes

2 tablespoons mild rice wine (Taiwan Mijiu)

1½ teaspoons regular soy sauce

3 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped

2 tablespoons finely julienned ginger

2 tablespoons fermented black beans, rinse and coarsely chopped

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon sugar

1. Rinse the peppers and pat them dry. Set a wok over medium-high heat and swirl in the oil. Add the peppers and reduce the heat to low-medium. Toss the peppers occasionally so that they brown evenly. You want them to be more or less gold and gently seared all over, although you don’t have to be utterly thorough about this. The total cooking time should be about 15 minutes. Remove the peppers to a work bowl and return all the oil to the wok.

Freeze for easy slicing

2. While the peppers are cooking, prepare the pork: Remove it from the freezer and slice it into thin julienne. (Freezing the meat for a short period of time makes it much easier to handle.) Place the meat in a small work bowl and toss it with the rice wine and soy sauce.

3. When all the peppers have been cooked, turn the heat under the wok back up to medium-high and add the garlic, ginger, and black beans. Stir-fry these for a few minutes to release their aromas. Add the pork and marinade, and continue to stir-fry them until the meat is no longer pink. Increase the heat to high and add the peppers, vinegar, and sugar. Toss until most of the sauce has evaporated. Taste and adjust the seasoning, then serve hot.

Hunan's honey ham with lotus buns

Lately I’ve been writing about some great meals I've eaten during my life, and my biggest and saddest realization has been that so many of the almost iconic and classical dishes of China's greatest food cultures have completely disappeared. And I cannot for the life of me figure out why.

When I worked at the history museum and other cultural institutions in the early eighties, part of my job included interpreting at the various mainland-style restaurants the directors took foreign visitors to for lunch or dinner. 

One of the favorites was Peng’s Agora Garden (Péng yuán 彭園), a wonderful Hunan restaurant that gloried in the classics of this south-central province.

These banquets were nuanced balancing acts between the rich and subdued, the sweet and savory. One dish that knocked me for a loop was a plate of seasoned meatballs steamed in small honeydews called xiāngguā 香瓜 (“fragrant melons”) that were inevitably translated as “mushmelons.” 

Caramelization at work

Be that as it may, the crisp rinds acted as firm bowls, while the juices of their gentle jade flesh wove between the pork and aromatics into an exciting broth that turned preconceptions upside-down. Was this a fruit dish? Yes, but.

And that got me to thinking about why we never see these amazing foods anymore, even in China. It’s all about street snacks and simple restaurant cooking nowadays, or chile peppers and Sichuan peppercorns, all of which I love… don’t get me wrong. 

And yet, all of us – Chinese people included – are missing out on so much by concentrating on the dishes that are easy and accessible and overly seasoned.

Take today’s recipe, for example. This blows peoples’ minds whenever I serve it. 

Thin slices of lovely cured pork are steamed with slab sugar and lotus seeds, and then served as little sammies with the caramelized sauce. It’s the perfect finale for a meal. And it’s ridiculously easy: assemble and steam. Perfection achieved.

Secret weapon revealed

Why this isn’t known and beloved by every devotee of good cooking is beyond me. Perhaps it’s because Chinese ham can’t be imported. But then again, other types of cured pork can be used instead with great results. 

I’ve tried the gamut – prosciutto and Smithfield ham were obvious subs – but in the end I returned to Hunan and its long-term love affair with charcuterie for the perfect meat.

Smoked Hunan-style cured pork (Húnán làròu 湖南臘肉) works like a dream here. Unlike prosciutto or Smithfield ham, it is not too salty, and the flavor is subtle enough to offer the requisite balance of savory and the sweet in this dish. 

Two wonderful things about this cured pork is that a) it’s made in the U.S., and b) it’s available all year around in Chinese markets, where it is vacuum-packed in plastic. You don’t even need to refrigerate it until it’s opened, and so I tend to stock up on this whenever I find a great batch.

What do you look for? Glad you asked. The commercial offerings of this type of charcuterie are generally taken from what appears to be the lower part of the ham, so that you get is basically lean meat with a nice fat layer under the skin. 

However, the meat often becomes chopped up in order to meet the package’s stated weight of 14 to 16 ounces, so you need to paw around to find one that fits the bill.

You want lean AND fat

I try to find whole pieces that are at least 3 inches (7.5 cm) wide and an inch (2.5 cm) thick. Make sure that they have a wide ribbon of fat on one end that is topped by the skin. You won’t be able to eat that skin, but it will contain lots of flavor, so don’t toss it out. The same goes for the fat: it will help to make this dish divine.

Lotus seeds are the traditional accompaniment to the ham, as is the rock sugar. But I have messed around with this a whole lot during the ensuing decades, trying to achieve some of that intense flavor and, yes, even sensuousness of the original dish. 

And I think I’ve succeeded here. You find a whole range of flavors popping up, other than the usual sweet and salty: Shaoxing rice wine, the gentle heat of ginger juice, and the caramel edge of the slab sugar combine to make this dish truly magical.

Sandwich the meat inside some lotus leaf buns, drizzle on some of the sauce, and settle in for a luxurious meal.  

By the way, if you have a copy of All Under Heaven lying around the house, you already possess a recipe for honey ham. However, I’ve tweaked it a bit (I really can’t stop doing that – occupational hazard, I guess) so that it comes out even more luscious. Let me know if you agree!

A meaty flower

Honey ham

Mìzhī huŏtuĭ 蜜汁火腿

Hunan

Serves 6 to 8

6 tablespoons dried lotus seeds

Boiling water, as needed

Around 1 pound Hunan-style cured pork (see headnotes)

2 whole pieces Chinese brown slab sugar, or 2 walnut-sized pieces of rock sugar

2 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine

2 tablespoons ginger juice

20 lotus leaf buns, steamed and kept hot

Slab sugar and skin

1. For best results, start this recipe the day before you serve it so that the meat and lotus seeds have time to absorb the flavors of the sauce. This also makes your feast a whole lot more carefree.

2. Soak the lotus seeds in boiling water and then clean.

3. Remove the skin from the smoked pork and set it aside for later on in the recipe. Slice the meat against the grain into thin pieces, keeping as much fat on as possible, but removing any tough membranes.

4. Arrange the meat slices in an overlapping pattern in the center of a 4-cup (500 ml) heatproof bowl so they look like flower petals. Keep arranging the slices in the bowl in a flower pattern, and tossing any irregular scraps in the center, where they will be nicely hidden. Pile the cleaned lotus seeds on top. Arrange the 2 pieces of slab sugar on top of the ham, as well as the pork skin, and then pour the rice wine and ginger juice over everything.

5. Prepare a steamer and bring the water in it to a full boil. Place the plate in the steamer and steam for about 1 hour, until the meat is very tender and the lotus seeds are soft. Taste a lotus seed to ensure that it is cooked through.

A thing of beauty

6. For best results, let the bowl come to room temperature, cover, and chill overnight. About half an hour before serving, steam the bowl once more to heat it through, about 20 minutes. Remove the plate from the steamer and carefully pour the sauce off into a wok or pan. Bring the sauce to a boil and reduce it until it is thick and caramelized and bubbly.

7. Invert the pork onto a rimmed plate, arrange the lotus seeds around the edge, and then pour the sauce over the meat and lotus seeds. Serve with the hot steamed lotus buns. Have each diner open up a bun and insert a slice or two of the meat. These are to be eaten like tiny sandwiches; the lotus seeds can be picked up with chopsticks and eaten as a garnish.

Hunan charcuterie and leeks

A couple of more wonderful props were awarded to All Under Heaven during the last few days of 2016. 

But before we get to them, I first want to thank everyone for making this the best year of my life in spite of everything else that went on, for the simple reason that my two books were published and then received such a warm welcome. And not only that, but we moved into the house of our dreams. And then throughout the year so many wonderful things happened to friends and family. Really, I am endlessly grateful. 

Thank you for reading this blog, cooking from my recipes, and being out there in the world.

Christmas cheer in a Chinatown alley

In The Kitchn’s “6 Travel-Inspired Cookbooks for the Adventurous Cook,” Dana Velden points out that “I can't think of a reason why any serious student of Chinese food and culture would not have this comprehensive and informative volume on their shelf. Authentic yet accessible, All Under Heaven is fascinating and not as intimidating as its heft and breadth would have you believe. The author's simple line drawings help to clarify techniques and ingredients and add charm to the whole experience.”

And then in Chowhound’s “Cookbook Gift Guide for the Holidays,” Amy Sowder writes that in Heaven you can “wrap your head around all the varieties of Chinese food in this comprehensive, contemporary portrait of country's culinary geography and history that has shaped it.”

What happy reviews!

*  *  *

This is a simple recipe for the end of the year. We are all tired of making fancy stuff for the holidays – or at least I am – and so this is the sort of super easy recipe I like to turn to when I find things like excellent young leeks hanging out at the market.

We have had lots and lots and lots of rain here in the Bay Area these past couple of weeks (months?), and so produce is either fabulous (particularly cold weather crops like root vegetables) or soggy (like lettuce). I tend to go with what the market suggests, so when I spied these amazingly beautiful young leeks, I knew what we were having for dinner.

Thin leeks like these are usually the result of thinning out rows to give the lucky remaining plants plenty of room to grow into luscious mammoths. The tender ones that don’t make the cut, though, are genuinely flavorful and don’t have to be braised or chopped into submission, and that makes them excellent for stir-fries.

They require only the minimum of care: trim, rinse carefully, slice, and you’re ready to go. I’d caution that these don’t store well and the leaves turn yellow if allowed to hang around, so enjoy them the same day that you bring them home.

As for the meat, either Hunan or Cantonese cured pork belly work equally well. Hunan larou is smoked, while the Cantonese version is not but yet is ever-so-slightly sweet. To prepare the meat, rinse off a hunk, shave off the skin (discard or toss in the soup pot), and then slice the pork against the grain into thin shards. This allows the fat to render easily, and the meat won’t turn into hard nuggets if you keep the heat low as it surrenders its fat.

Look for brands that are made in the U.S. rather than China, as they will be of higher quality. Select strips that have thin ribbons of dark meat woven with the pale fat, as this means they will be both tender and flavorful. Keep the charcuterie dry and closed in a plastic bag, and it will remain in perfect condition for quite a few weeks as long as it is kept chilled – freeze for longer storage.

 

Larou hanging out a window in SF

And again, this is more of a template than a regular recipe. It all depends on what you have, what you like, and what else is being served. Feel more than free to double or halve the meat, add fresh chilies or hot sauce, toss in chopped fermented black beans, add some thinly sliced pressed bean curd... the possibilities are truly endless. 

Here is a recipe from the archives that is a bit more complex and very Hunanese with its layered flavors and perfect for the chilehead in your life. But if you want something soothing and low tech, go with today's version.

I serve this over steamed rice and nothing else really is needed on a cold winter night, except for maybe a good movie. I’m watching Die Hard for the millionth time once I finish up with this. It’s my favorite Christmas movie.

Leek and charcuterie stir-fry

Suànmiáo chăo làròu 蒜苗炒臘肉

Hunan

Serves 2 as a main dish

Gaoliang and leeks

12 ounces / 330 g young leeks or green garlic

2 red chilies or 1 tablespoon Hunan style chile sauce, optional

1 tablespoon fermented black beans (doushi or douchi), optional

4 ounces / 120  g Cantonese or Hunan cured pork belly (larou)

1 teaspoon sugar

2 tablespoons / 30 ml white liquor (gaoliang recommended)

2 tablespoons / 30 ml regular soy sauce

1. Trim the roots off of the leeks, as well as any soft or yellow leaves. You should be left with only springy stalks with bright green leaves. Cut the leeks on a deep diagonal into thin slices, and keep the greens separate from the whites. If you are using fresh chilies, remove the stems and slice them on a deep diagonal into thin ovals. If you are using the fermented black beans, rinse them in a sieve and then coarsely chop them.

Charcuterie

2. Rinse the pork and cut off the rind. Cut the meat into thin shards against the grain, preferably into deeply diagonal slices so that they don’t end up too tiny. Set your wok over medium-low heat and sprinkle the pork in there. Toss them around now and then as they render their fat. When the white parts turn translucent, scoot them up the side of the wok and toss the optional chilies in their too before moving them up to the side of your wok.

3. Raise the heat under your wok to medium-high. Add the leek whites to the wok and toss them around in the oil. When they have wilted, scoot them up the side before adding the greens. Once they have wilted, add the optional chile sauce to the bottom of the wok to heat it quickly before tossing everything together.

4. Add the sugar to the dish, toss, and then the liquor and finally the soy sauce. Toss to coat everything evenly and adjust the seasoning as needed. Serve hot.