A Beijing Hui Muslim classic: beef shanks & eggs

Beijing’s Hui Muslim dishes are without a doubt some of my favorite in the region. Much of this has to do with the creative ways in which every bit of an animal is used. In the West, we tend to toss out the less popular parts of an animal, but that is not the case in China. Not only are Chinese cooks frugal – which they most definitely are – but they also appreciate the intriguing textures that the heart, stomach, and shin have to offer.

These variety meats are the kind of things that every single Beijing-style Muslim eatery I’ve ever eaten in offers. If they are a small, family-run place, they will display them right in the front window, the same way Cantonese delis hang ducks and pigs near the sidewalk. The flavors are rich and savory, and based on a spice-infused marinade that is colored by soy sauce and slightly sweetened with rock sugar.

Edible stained glass window

Depending on what time of day it is and how hot it is outside, we might have a plate full of cool, braised liver, tendons, heart, tripe, and so forth to start off a meal. Or perhaps a breakfast sandwich of tender, braised shin shaved into paper-thin slices and packed into a sesame-paste biscuit, or shaobing. Dinner might include some eggs, bean curd, and thick seaweed cooked in that same braising liquid, as well. Alongside this, we would usually order some millet porridge and a plate of stir-fried greens.

Beef shins are a cut of meat that really deserves your love. They’re cheap, nothing but completely edible, and are ribboned with thin tendons that turn into translucent, tender codas between the gorgeous meat. I mean, look at that photo above and tell me that isn’t drop-dead beautiful.

These shins will be soft and as relaxed as a kitten when they are raw – see the photo below. As soon as they hit hot water, though, they will shrink up into tense little balls and stay that way, so don’t worry about crowding your pan at the very beginning. This shrinkage is due to the tendons, which will become incredibly hard at this point and only dissolve into a delectable gumminess after a slow braise.

Raw tendons

I get my beef shins at a Chinese market in Oakland that sells them in sets of six or so in plastic bags, so that is what I’ve gotten used to as my basic measure. However, there’s nothing stopping you from dividing the recipe in half or less, or even multiplying it a couple of times for parties. Be sure a make the braised eggs with this fabulous sauce after you pluck out the beef – they are just as delicious as the shins.

Braised beef shanks and eggs
Lŭ níujiàn, lŭ dàn 滷牛腱、滷蛋

Beijing
Serves 8 to 12

Beautiful beautiful beautiful

6 boneless beef shins 
Water, as needed
½ cup thinly sliced ginger 
4 green onions 
6 tablespoons regular soy sauce 
4 star anise 
½ stick cinnamon 
1 tablespoon fennel seeds 
2 teaspoons Sichuan peppercorns 
¼ cup rock sugar, or ½ piece of brown slab sugar 
2 dried Thai chilies, optional 
1 piece cured tangerine peel, optional 
1 cup rice wine, optional 

12 to 18 small to medium eggs, boiled until firm (see directions below) and peeled

To serve:

Thinly sliced green onions

Toasted sesame oil

1. Place the shins in a wide pot, cover them with water, bring the water to a boil over high heat, lower the heat, simmer the meats for about 10 minutes, and then dump out the water. Rinse the scum off of the meat and the pan.

2. Return the meats to the pan, and add all of the ingredients up through the optional rice wine, as well as enough water to cover the meats. Bring the pan to a boil and then lower the heat to a simmer. Cook the shins until they can easily be pierced with a chopstick, about 3 hours. You can also make these in a pressure cooker: braise on high for about an hour. Remove the shins to a bowl, cool, and then refrigerate them for easier slicing.

Ready for the braise

3. Add the peeled eggs to the strained sauce. Bring the uncovered pan to a boil, reduce the heat to low, and slowly simmer the eggs for an hour or two, adding only as much water as needed to keep them more or less submerged. Cool the eggs and sauce to room temperature and let them sit in the sauce for at least two days so that the flavors really permeate the eggs.

4. To serve, slice the shanks crosswise (against the grain) into really thin slices. Fan these out onto a plate or a bowl of hot noodles. Cut the eggs into wedges. Drizzle them with a bit of the sauce, if you like, or simply a bit of toasted sesame oil and a sprinkle of green onions. 

How to correctly boil eggs

Prick the round ends with a sharp pin or tack, as this gives that bubble of air inside the shell an escape route and so prevent the eggs from cracking.

Braised eggs - tan down to the yolks

Place the eggs in a pot of warm water, and bring the water to a boil over high heat, stirring the eggs very often as they come to a boil so that the yolks become centered in the whites. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook them for about 8 minutes. Dump out the water, cover them with cool tap water, and then peel them when they have cooled down.

Whenever you make hard-boiled eggs for recipes like this, look for two things: the smallest eggs possible, and eggs that are not too fresh. Smaller eggs absorb the sauce’s flavors faster, while older eggs are easier to peel. Also, if you gently stir the eggs as they are coming to a boil, you will keep the yolks centered in the still-soft whites; once the water barely comes to a boil, the whites will have set and you can stop stirring. Never boil the eggs at full blast, though, as this will make the whites tough. A gentle simmer is enough – they will also be cooked in the sauce, so there’s no need to overdo it. When cooking hardboiled eggs, keep the lid off, otherwise pressure will build up in the pan and the egg whites will have a honeycomb texture.

Midwinter soup from Ningxia

The longest night of the year is a time for celebration in China. And that means that it’s a time for eating traditional foods. The Winter Solstice usually occurs on December 21 or 22, as its arrival is determined by the lunar calendar. My husband and his family always look forward to bowls of sweet sticky rice balls (tangyuan) that evening. However, depending upon where you are, this cold night might instead be a time to enjoy some Jiaozi or lamb soup. 

Ningxia puts a special spin on this custom, for the Winter Solstice means one thing and one thing only: a big bowl of spicy lamb soup with thick batons of mung bean jelly (or liangfen) floating in there among some mushrooms and tomatoes. And, I have to tell you, the liangfen is a touch of genius: the cubes turn into enticing, gently textured pillows that really stand out against the rich bits of lamb.

The liangfen starts out white

Some people also toss in chunks of potatoes or some Jiaozi, but since this is best served with bread, I find they turn this into a bit of a carb overload. Just have the jelly ready to go before you start this recipe, and this will come together instantly.

Ningxia Midwinter Soup

Níngxià yángròu fěntāng  寧夏羊肉粉湯

The Northwest

Serves 2 as a main meal

Soup:

3 or more ounces boneless lamb or goat meat

1 teaspoon regular soy sauce

½ teaspoon dark soy sauce

Making this jelly is a snap

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

2 tablespoons shredded fresh ginger

3 green onions, trimmed and julienned, whites and greens kept separate

1 teaspoon coarse chili powder, or less if you are chili-adverse

½ teaspoon five-spice powder 

4 black mushrooms, fresh or dried and plumped up, trimmed and thinly sliced

4 whole canned Roma tomatoes, cut into ¼-inch slices

2 teaspoons black vinegar, or to taste

4 cups unsalted mushroom stock or water

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

I recipe for Mung Bean Jelly, through Step 2

To serve:

Handful of cilantro

Marinate the meat -- I used goat

Grilled Breads, or any other raised baked breads from this region

1. Cut the lamb into ¼-inch strips. Place them in a small work bowl and toss with both kinds of soy sauce. While this is marinating, prepare the rest of the ingredients. If you have any bones or fat on the meat, consider tossing this into the stock for extra flavor; remove them before you pour the stock into the vegetables.

2. Set a wok over medium-high heat and add the oil when it is hot. Swirl it around and add the ginger and onion whites. As soon as they are fragrant, sprinkle in the lamb and marinade, and toss these around until the lamb is barely done. Scoop this out into a clean work bowl, but drain the oil back into the wok.

Mushrooms with spices

3. Over medium heat, add the chili powder and five-spice powder to the oil and swirl them around before raising the heat to medium-high and adding the mushrooms. Toss these quickly to release their fragrance, and then add the tomatoes and vinegar. Pour in the stock or water and bring this to a boil before lower the heat to a simmer. The soup can be made ahead up to this point.

4. Cut the mung bean jelly into fat batons around ¾-inch wide and an inch or so long, or whatever size you like. Slide these into the soup and simmer them gently for around 10 minutes to heat through; they will turn from an opaque white to almost translucent. Add the lamb, then taste and adjust the seasoning with whatever you like. Ladle the soup into large bowls, top with the finely chopped onion greens and coarsely chopped cilantro, and serve with the bread, which may be torn into smallish pieces and tossed into the soup.

The most beautiful dish in the world

I can think of few foods that are as gorgeous as this one. Slices of chilled tendon look like they belong in a great cathedral rather than on a plate, and they shimmer and refract the light in almost unearthly ways.

In spite of that, they also are amazingly delicious and have a delightfully snappy texture that teases the palate. Beef tendons are also inexpensive ingredients and easy to cook, so there really is no excuse not to fall completely in love with this extraordinary dish.

And if all that was not enough, you can make this dish your own by seasoning it with pretty much whatever you like. I have provided some basic guidelines, but they really are little more than suggestions, as you just can’t go wrong here.

For example, these thin slivers first charmed their way into my heart at a Nanjing friend’s home, where he used a gently sweet soy marinade in the background with warm spices like star anise and ginger supplying the necessary fireworks. That is because tendons are actually completely flavorless; they are loved solely for their texture in China and for their collagen, which is considered especially wonderful as a supplement for the elderly, as it strengthens joints.

Afternoon light through a slice

Tendons can be used in many different ways, of course. They lend a lovely stickiness and body to soups and stews, leaving sensuous smears on the lips and giving the teeth something to sink into like luxurious pillows. Tendons are also beautiful in certain braises, especially this one from Zhejiang that is intensely seductive.

But no other recipe quite is as visually stunning as this dish. If we were ever able to build a temple to great food, I have the perfect design for its windows…  By the way, the Chinese and English names for this dish are my own. It is invariably called simply “braised tendons” (lŭ níujīn 滷牛筋), which does not even begin to hint at what is in store.

Stained-glass tendons

Cǎisè bōlí níujīn 彩色玻璃牛筋

Beijing Muslim

Serves 12 or more as an appetizer

4 beef tendons, cleaned

Filtered water

1 inch fresh ginger, thinly sliced

4 green onions

1 cup rice wine (Taiwanese Mirin)

 

Simply gorgeous

Suggested seasonings (all or some):

1 to 2 tablespoons smoked paprika

2 tablespoons regular soy sauce or sea salt to taste

2 star anise

½ stick cinnamon

3 cloves garlic, peeled

1 tablespoon Sichuan peppercorns

1 tablespoon fennel seeds

1 piece rock sugar (the size of a small egg)

1. Prepare this dish at least a day before you wish to serve it. Rinse the tendons and place them in a saucepan. Cover the tendons with water, bring the water to a boil, and simmer them for about 5 minutes. Dump out the water and rinse both the tendons and the pot to remove any scum.

2. Return the tendons to the pan and cover with filtered water. Add the ginger, green onions, and rice wine. Bring the pan to a full boil over high heat and then lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Cook the tendons for around 3 hours, or until they are barely tender.

3. At this point, add whatever seasonings you like and simmer the tendons for another hour or so until they are completely tender; I like to place the spices in a bag or spice ball so that they can be tossed out easily once the tendons are cooked. Taste the sauce and adjust the seasoning; remember that the flavors will be muted since the tendons are to be served cold, so over-season them a bit. Remove the pan from the heat and let it cool down a bit.

Raw tendons

4. Prepare a loaf pan by rinsing it out with cool water. Use tongs to lift the tendons and arrange them in the loaf pan, and then strain as much of the sauce onto the tendons to barely cover them; the rest of the sauce can be reserved and used in soups or for noodles. Cool the tendons completely, cover with plastic wrap, and chill overnight.

5. Rinse the bottom and sides of the loaf pan under very hot tap water to loosen the tendons, and then release the solid aspic out onto a cutting board. Use a very sharp knife to slice the tendons as thinly as possible; cut each slice in half, if you wish. Serve on a bed of fresh cilantro or other crunchy greens.

Tips:

Cleaned beef tendons can be found in many Asian and Latin groceries. I usually get mine in the frozen section of my favorite Korean store.

Raw tendons are impossible to cut, so leave them whole.

Blanching the tendons will get rid of most of the fat in this dish and also leave only a clean, neutral background for whatever seasonings you like.

Grilled beef pastries from Beijing's Muslims

Anyone who has spent a considerable amount of happy time eating along the streets and alleys of Beijing will tell you the same thing: these foods are more often than not the creations of the capital’s Muslim community. Tantalizing aromas of beef and lamb take the place of the usual Chinese preference for pork. Breads and pasta supplant the delight in rice.

Even more important is that the nice person who is cooking up the dish will often wear a small white hat or a scarf, for even though Mecca is thousands of miles away, in the southwest corner of the old city the thousand-year-old Muslim temple on Niujie (Ox Street) still summons the faithful.

Meant to be enjoyed at any hour of the day, I adore these crispy pastries fresh during leisurely weekend brunches and have them in the freezer for easy dinners during a busy week. That is because they are easy to make, freeze beautifully, and only need to be slowly fried to make their fragrant juices come alive.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...yup: 7

Often called “thousand-layer pastries” (qiancengbing) with what must be a salesman’s eye to flogging the daily special, I’ve only been able to find seven in here, which makes these, oh, about 993 layers short. But never mind. Those seven layers are perfect just as they are.

What happens is that the meat—seasoned with a steady hand and hued a rosy pink from the curing salt—is cosseted between thin pastry blankets. 

The outside crisps up into a crunchy brown that contrasts with the soft layers of bread and meat hiding inside. Forming all of these into thin strata ensures that the meat cooks quickly while remaining lusciously juicy, and the thin bread sheets have no time to turn doughy, but rather become like silk blankets.

In Beijing, these are usually served with bowls of thin millet porridge or hot cups of tea, and if a small plate of pickles completes the scene, then just about every food group is represented on your tiny table with a flourish. But up in the desert Northwest, a thin rice gruel, strong brick tea, or even a glass of milk might round out the meal.

In China, you always know where you are by the foods that are in front of you.

Grilled layered beef breads

Qīngzhēn níuròu qiāncéngbĭng 清真牛肉千層餅

Beijing
Serves 4

Roll the dough into a thin sheet

           

Filling:

1 pound organic ground chuck or ground beef (15% fat)

1½ tablespoons finely minced ginger

2 green onions, trimmed and finely chopped

2 teaspoons regular soy sauce

½ teaspoon sugar

⅛ teaspoon pink #1 curing salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 clove garlic, peeled and finely minced

Wrappers:

1 cup Chinese flour

6 tablespoons boiling filtered water

2 to 3 tablespoons cool filtered water

Extra flour as needed

Oil for pan-frying

1. The day before you make these pastries, combine all of the filling ingredients except for the garlic, place in a covered container, and refrigerate at least 8 hours so that the meat has time to cure and marinate. Just before filling the pastries, stir in the garlic, which would overpower the filling if left in there too long. Divide the filling into 8 lumps.

2. To make the pastry, place the flour in a small work bowl and use chopsticks to stir in the boiling water until large flakes are formed. Then stir in just enough cool water to form a soft dough. Knead the dough on a lightly dusted smooth surface until the dough is supple and passes the earlobe test. Cover the dough with plastic wrap and let it rest for 20 to 30 minutes.

3. Divide the dough into 4 even pieces. Working on one piece at a time, and keeping the rest of the dough covered, roll it out on a lightly-floured smooth surface into a thin square around 10 inches on each side. Spread one of the portions of filling evenly over the lower half of the square, but keep the edges clean so that they can be sealed later. Fold the top half over the filling and lightly pinch the open edges closed. Then, spread another eighth of the filling evenly over the right half of the pastry—still keeping the edges clean—and then fold the left half over the right like a book. Firmly crimp the open edges closed to seal in the juices. Cover the filled pastry with plastic wrap to keep it from drying out. Repeat with the rest of the dough and filling until you have 4 filled pastries.

Spread the filling on the dough

4. The pastries can either be immediately cooked or frozen at this point. To freeze them, put them in a single layer on a sheet lined with plastic wrap; as soon as they have frozen solid, pack the pastries in a resealable freezer bag. The frozen pastries can be cooked like fresh ones, only use a lower heat to give the filling time to evenly defrost.

5. To cook them, heat a flat seasoned frying pan over medium heat and then film it with a tablespoon or two of oil. Lay as many pastries in the pan as you wish, as long as they do not touch each other, and cover the pan. Gently fry the pastries until they are a golden brown on one side, and then flip them over and fry the other side. Remove the cover for the final few minutes of frying so that the pastry crisps up on the outside. Cut into pieces, if you like, and serve as is, or with a black vinegar or chili dip.

For Hanukkah, instead of chopped liver, try stir-fried

Chopped liver is a staple on many a Jewish family’s Hanukkah table, but why not try something different this year? I’d like to suggest a delicious alternative borrowed from China’s Muslims.

This savory dish is a classic in northern China and usually consists of thin shreds of lamb or beef flash-fried with lots of green onions and rich soy sauce. 

Over the years, I have adapted this traditional Muslim dish into something my family loves with a passion, substituting lots of fresh chicken livers for the meat. The result: a meal that makes my Chinese brother-in-law’s eyes roll back into his head with ecstasy.

And pretty much the same thing happens to me, truth be told, because this is one of those perfect Chinese dishes in which flavors and textures bounce off one another like magic. A savory, lightly garlicky sauce binds the sweetness and silkiness of the scallions with the livers’ gentle bitterness and sublime softness. 

In fact, this is why I use the livers instead of lamb or beef: That extra depth and tangy undertone make the complex flavors even more intriguing. Plus, whenever my brother-in-law shows up, I know that I’ll have to put Chinese liver ‘n’ onions on the menu if I want to keep peace in the house and a smile on the face of our houseguest.

I’ll let you in on a few secrets that will guarantee you tender, juicy chunks of liver peeking out between the silky strands of green onion. First and foremost, the livers and the green onions have to be very fresh and of excellent quality, as they are the undisputed stars of this show…. [read the rest here on Zester Daily, including the recipe!]

Ever eaten Qinghai cuisine? Be prepared for a delicious surprise...

 Qinghai in China's far west is not famous in China for its cuisine, but the few things from there that I have tried have been terrific, so this low profile is a puzzle to me. Its cuisine is a great cross between so many influences—Han Chinese, Hui Muslim, Tibetans—that you just know the food here has to be good.

One such dish is this flavorful, gorgeous, and yet quite easy fish that is decorated with a “flower” cut design so that the meat of the fish blooms in the hot oil as it fries, crisping up into petals that, when done, make the fish look indeed much like a pinecone. A tangy sauce is then poured over it and toasted pine nuts complete the transformation from fish into a tasty work of art.

Flower cut

           

Similar preparations are found throughout northern China and down through the Yangtze River area. The version called Squirrel Fish (sōngshŭ yú 松鼠魚) is a classic Hangzhou dish, for example, and then there is Shandong’s Sweet-and-Sour Fish (tángcù yú 糖醋魚), plus any number of similar recipes that coat fresh- or saltwater fish in a light batter, fry it until crisp, and then drape it with a refined sauce. 

Since fish goes so well with slightly sour notes like lemon and vinegar, it is understandable that here in China its sauce will sometimes contain sweet-and-sour notes. And because it tastes so good and looks so nice, the sauce is often red from ketchup and buzzes with bits of aromatics, like ginger, green onion, and garlic.

           

Some might even have some pine nuts in the mix, but the recipe below is exceptionally successful in this regard, for the fish is not only make to look a bit like a pinecone but even has the nuts to carry the fantasy a bit further.

Pinecone fish

Sōngzĭ yú 松子魚

Qinghai
Serves 4 to 6

Fish and batter:
2 pounds (more or less) fileted fish with the skin on (rock cod, amberjack, or carp are all good)

½ teaspoon sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup rice wine (Mijiu)

¾ cup cornstarch, divided

Vegetables:

1 pound bok choy or other greens

3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

1 teaspoon sea salt

Sauce:

Lower the fish gently into oil

4 cup peanut or vegetable oil (used all right if it smells fresh)

¼ cup pine nuts

4 green onions, trimmed and finely chopped

¼ cup minced fresh ginger

1 teaspoon sea salt

¼ cup catsup

2 tablespoons light colored (apple or rice) vinegar

1 cup unseasoned chicken stock

2 tablespoons sugar

¼ cup cool filtered water

1. Rinse the fish and pat it dry with a paper towel. Lay the filets on a cutting board with the skin-side down. Working on one filet at a time, make parallel slices ¼-inch apart down the length of the filet that cut through the flesh but not through the skin. Then turn the filet 90 degrees and, starting with the thicker end, make deep diagonal slices ¼-inch apart through the flesh all the way down the body but again not through the skin. Repeat with the other filet. Mix together the salt, pepper, rice wine, and half of the cornstarch, and then gently massage this into all the crevasses on the cut side of the fish; don’t be concerned if bits of fish fall off, as they can be fried too and tossed on top of the filets with no one the wiser. Let the fish marinate in this while you prepare everything else.

Fried up & crispy

2. Rinse the vegetables well, shake dry, and cut the bok choy lengthwise into quarters or the spinach or other greens into 2-inch lengths, discarding any tough pieces. Heat a wok over high heat, add the oil and salt, swirl these around, and then stir-fry the vegetables until barely done. Use the vegetables to make a next on a serving platter.

3. Heat the oil in your wok over medium heat and add the pine nuts. Gently fry these until they have turned a light brown, and then use a slotted spoon to remove them to a small bowl.

4. Coat the marinated fish with the other half of the cornstarch: Working on one piece at a time, pick up each piece of fish by the tail end and scatter the cornstarch into the crevasses so that the cut pieces do not stick together. Gently lower the filet into the hot oil and fry on the cut side first until it is lightly browned. Use two spatulas to carefully turn it over, fry briefly on the other side, and then transfer the filet to the vegetable-lined platter. Repeat with the other filet, reserving any leftover cornstarch in the bowl for the sauce. If you have any broken bits of fish left over, fry these too and then scatter them over the fried filets. Drain the oil out of the wok, leaving only about 3 tablespoons.

5. Lower the heat under the wok to medium and add the green onions and ginger. Stir these around in the hot oil to release their fragrance, and then add the salt, ketchup, vinegar, stock and sugar, and bring these to a boil. Mix the leftover cornstarch with the water to make a slurry, and pour as much in as needed to thicken the sauce. Taste and adjust the seasoning, and then pour this over the fried filets. Sprinkle the tops with the toasted pine nuts and serve immediately.