Of quail eggs & the West Wind

This romantic-sounding dish, West Wind Tea Quail Eggs, gets its name from a white liquor. One of China’s oldest varieties, West Wind is made in Fengxiang county, which lies almost directly west of Xi’an in Shaanxi. 

This was once a center for the earliest beginnings of Chinese civilization. Not only that, but excavations of Western Zhou dynasty (1046-771 BCE) sites around Fengxiang have shown that a thriving brewing culture was already in full swing there at the time.

Made mainly from sorghum grown in the neighborhood, barley and dried peas are added to the mix along with well water to make this unique clear liquor, the different grains adding subtle layers to its perfume.

Beautifully marbled

In this beautiful dish, where the cracked yet unpeeled eggs form intricate webbed designs on the whites, white liquor is added mainly as a flavoring; since West Wind is still hard to find outside of China, any good white lightning will do, such as gaoliang or Meiguilu.

Pigeon eggs are traditionally used in this recipe, but quail eggs are much easier to hunt down here, as good Chinese markets tend to keep a steady supply of them on hand alongside the other kinds of eggs. And while every single other type of egg comes in dozens or half-dozens, quail eggs invariably come as a set of ten packed in little plastic coffins. No one has ever explained why.

Make these 3 to 5 days ahead of when you want to serve them. As with all tea eggs or braised eggs, they need considerable resting time in the fridge for the flavors to seep all the way down to the yolks.

Ten to a box!

West wind tea quail eggs

Xīfēng chá chúndàn 西風茶鶉蛋 

Shaanxi
Serves 4 to 6

Eggs:

30 fresh quail eggs (see Tips)

Water as needed

Braising liquid:

4 cups boiling filtered water

3 tablespoons green tea leaves

4 slices ginger

2 green onions, trimmed

1 tablespoon Sichuan peppercorns

1 large piece dried tangerine peel

2 teaspoons fennel seeds

1 tablespoon rock sugar

7 tablespoons regular soy sauce, divided

7 tablespoons white liquor 

1. Start this recipe at least 3 days before you want to serve it. Use a pin or tack to prick a hole in the round end of each egg. Place the eggs in a medium saucepan, cover them with hot tap water, and slowly bring the eggs to a boil over medium heat. Stir the eggs every 30 seconds or so until the water comes to a boil, as this will keep the yolks in the center of the eggs. Gently boil the eggs for about 3 or 4 minutes (it doesn’t matter, really, as the eggs are going to be cooked further in the braising liquid), and then empty out the water, fill the pan with cold tap water, and let the eggs completely cool down. Gently crack the eggs all over (but don’t peel them) and let them drain in a colander.

2. Pour the water into a medium saucepan and the tea leaves, ginger, Sichuan peppercorns, tangerine peen fennel seeds, sugar, and 5 tablespoons of both the soy sauce and the white liquor. Bring the braising liquid to a boil and simmer it for an hour or two, or until the liquid has been reduced by half. Add the unpeeled eggs, bring the liquid to the boil again, and then lower it to a barely discernible simmer. After about an hour, turn off the heat and let the eggs come to room temperature. Add the remaining soy sauce and white liquor, taste, and adjust seasonings.

3. Place the eggs and the braising liquid in a covered container; the liquid should cover all or most of the eggs. Refrigerate the eggs, and when you think of it, lightly shake the eggs in the liquid so that they each get a good dunk in the flavorings.

4. After 3 days to even a week later, peel the eggs just before serving. I like to rinse them in the braising liquid just in case there are any tiny bits of shell clinging to the whites. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled.

Eggs starting to boil

Tips

Hardboiled quail eggs can sometimes be very difficult to peel, but I’ve hit on a solution for this:

First let them sit out on a cool kitchen counter in their plastic wrappers for about 5 days. This ages them just enough to make the shell easy to remove.

 I always use a sharp pin or tack to punch a hole in the round end of each egg, since the air sac there expands in the hot water and tends to break the shell. (Look at their flat bottoms in the top two photos: that's from the air sacs, which makes these shaped like gumdrops instead of eggs.)

Finally, use medium heat to bring the water to a boil; since the eggs will be at room temperature, the water will still boil fairly quickly, but it won’t be fast enough to surprise the air sacs into exploding.

I also stir the eggs every 30 seconds or so as they come to a boil, since this centers the yolks inside the whites.

The yellow chives of Shaanxi

Yellow chives are like onions with manners. 

Traditionally grown under covers to keep them from seeing the sun and turning green, these long, thin leaves as a result grow into a beautiful combination of gold and silver.

This coddling also tamps down the oniony flavor so that you are left with little more than a suggestion of chives, making them the perfect ingredient for elegant dinners.

I like them, though, for just about any meal of the day. Yellow chives are wonderful in jiaozi, where they combine so well with pork that they seem made for each other. 

Or, they can be simply stir-fried, as in this Shaanxi-style dish, which is great over steamed rice for breakfast, lunch, or a snack.

Great for breakfast

Stir-fried yellow chives and eggs 
Dàn chǎo jiŭhuáng 蛋炒韭黃 

Shaanxi
Serves 4 to 6

1 pound yellow chives

6 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil (or half butter and half oil)

1 teaspoon sea salt

4 eggs, lightly beaten

1. Rinse the chives and pat them dry. Trim off any dry ends or less than perfect leaves. Either finely chop the chives if you like them particularly tender or cut them into 1-inch lengths if you prefer a crunchier texture.

2. Heat a wok over high, and when it is hot, add the oil and salt. Swirl the salt in the oil to dissolve it, and then toss in all of the chives. Quickly toss the chives in the hot oil until they wilt and a few strands start to brown. 

3. Scoot the chives to one side and add a bit more oil if you don’t see any at the bottom of the wok. Pour the eggs into the oil and stir them around as they curdle. As soon most of them have formed large curds, toss the eggs with the chives. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Plate and serve immediately.

 

Pool the eggs next to the chives

Tips

Select yellow chives that have absolutely no rot, as slimy leaves take a lot of effort to pick off. Keep the chives dry and refrigerated, and then use them as soon as possible.

Variations on this recipe are easy and numerous: instead of the eggs, try julienned pressed bean curd, shredded pork or chicken, or even thin strips of fresh black mushrooms. If you wish, use soy sauce instead of the salt.

If you are making this to accompany more Muslim-style dishes, try using all or part butter instead of the oil, which will complement the meat dishes well.

A proper Xi'an biscuit with my tea...

It’s been said that this dish has been around for over a thousand years and was a staple on the arid plains of North China along the Silk Road, which makes a whole lot of sense, for sheep and goats are the few types of domestic animals that can live up there and thrive.

Shaanxi has traditionally been a relatively poor part of China, but rich in history and culture, for this once was the seat of empire for around ten dynasties. The royal families settled here where it was the most dangerous, their troops massed around them to fend off attack by ancient enemies to the north and west. And that is one of the many reasons why the food here is so wonderful, especially around Xi’an in spite of it being almost unknown outside of the country. 

One dish that showcases the ability of these hearty northerners to combine practicality with an intense enjoyment in good, honest food is this rich lamb soup.  But what makes it unique is not the soup itself – it’s the chewy bits of biscuit that bob around the top in place of the more common noodle.

English... er, Chinese biscuits

Since this comes from a high desert area where water is precious, noodles would have been a luxury, so something else had to take their place. And some brilliant cook whose name has been lost in the dust of time came up with the brilliant idea of these biscuits which taste like the best English muffins ever when they are fresh off the grill and then dry into leathery hardtack after a couple of days.

Some friends from Xi’an told us that decades ago, the men who pulled the huge drayage carts in Shaanxi were so poor that they could only afford one meal a day. So, at 10:00 in the morning, they’d down a huge bowl of this nutritious and filling soup before going out to work as hard as any man ever could work.

We too used to enjoy enormous washbasin-sized bowls of this soup in winter at a small stand on Yanping North Road in Taipei, the stand run by old soldiers from this area. Their food wasn't fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was always good. We would always peruse their menu and consider all the options before ordering, as usual, some of their lamb soup with biscuits. 

The soup would arrive in a cloud of steam along with one biscuit per person, and we’d crumble bits of it into our soup (using a knife to wiggle free the really hard parts) as we worked our way to the bottom of the bowl so that each bite would be chewy from the bread, and then we’d be so warm and full that we could walk miles afterwards. 

Rested dough

The traditional hardtack has been improved upon here; what we used to have with our soup was almost impossible to tear, especially if the biscuits weren't that fresh. 

These, though, are light as feather in comparison, at least when eaten fresh. Hot and sweetly toasty, they complement the filling soup perfectly, and are equally marvelous with some butter and honey for afternoon tea.

Lamb soup with biscuits 
Yángròu pàomó  羊肉泡饃

Shaanxi
Serves 4 to 6 as a main dish

Soup:

1½ pounds boneless lamb stew meat (or, if you’re feeling either adventurous or traditional, try mutton or goat), or beef stew meat

Filtered water as needed

10 cups lamb or beef stock, preferably unsalted

1 teaspoon fennel seed

1 teaspoon whole Sichuan peppercorns

2 whole star anise

1 small stick cinnamon

2 or 3 dried Thai chilies, optional

2 inches fresh ginger, smashed with the side of a cleaver

5 green onions, smashed with the side of a cleaver

1 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste

Biscuits:

2 cups Chinese flour (or 2 parts American all-purpose mixed with 1 part pastry flour), plus extra as needed

⅔ cup cool filtered water

1 teaspoon yeast

Garnishes:

2 bundles cellophane noodles soaked in cool water for at least 30 minutes

¼ cup dried wood ear mushrooms soaked in hot water for at least 1 hour

Handful of cilantro, chopped

Sweet Pickled Garlic,  plus some of the sauce, or balsamic vinegar

Chili sauce or Chili Oil as desired

1. Start this at least 2 hours before serving if using a pressure cooker, or at least 5 hours with a regular pan. To make the soup, cut the meat into pieces no larger than an inch square. Place them in a pressure cooker or pan, cover with filtered water, and bring the water to a boil. Simmer the meat for around 10 minutes, then dump out the water and the scum, rinse the meat in a colander, wash out the pressure cooker or pan, return the meat to the pan, and cover it with the stock. (If your pressure cooker or pan is relatively small, use less stock and add the rest later when the soup is finished.) Place the fennel and Sichuan peppercorns in a tea ball or tie in a piece of cloth; add this to the stock, as well as the star anise, cinnamon, chilies, ginger, green onion, and salt. Cover the pressure cooker, bring it to a boil over high and then cook it for about 45 minutes, or until the meat is very tender; in a regular pan, bring the stock to a boil, lower the heat to a gentle simmer, and cook the lamb until tender, adding more water as necessary to keep the meat submerged. Taste the lamb and soup and adjust the seasoning. (The soup can be prepared ahead of time and either refrigerated or frozen; as with most soups, it is better the next day, and the hard fat can be scraped off easily before the soup is reheated.)

2. While the lamb is cooking, start the biscuits: place ¼ cup of the flour in a medium work bowl and stir in both the water and the yeast; cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the yeast rise for about an hour; the batter should be bubbly. Stir in 1½ cups flour to form a stiff dough and then turn the dough out on a smooth surface. Knead in about 6 tablespoons dough; the dough will be ready when it is no longer tacky and is very firm. Cover the dough and let it rest for at least 20 minutes.

Soaked cellophane noodles

3. Lightly knead the dough and cut it into 6 equal pieces. Shape each piece into a ball and use a rolling pin to roll each ball into a circle about 3½ inches wide (see Tips); no extra flour should be necessary, but sprinkle on a bit if the dough sticks. Heat a large, nonstick or cast iron skillet over medium heat until drops of water hiss into steam when flicked onto the skillet. Place as many of the biscuits in the pan as will fit rather loosely; I usually do this in two batches. Cover the pan and let the cook over medium heat for 3 or so minutes, or until the bottoms are golden. Flip the biscuits over, cover, and cook until the other side is golden, too. Test one with a wooden skewer to ensure that it is cooked all the way through (the skewer should come out clean), remove the biscuits to a plate, and cover with a clean tea towel. Repeat with the rest of the biscuits until done.

4. Cut the soaked cellophane noodles in half and drain them. Cut the wood ear mushrooms into a thin julienne. Add these to the soup and simmer until the noodles are translucent, about 10 minutes.  Ladle the soup into large bowls, sprinkle on a bit of cilantro, and issue each diner a biscuit.  Serve while the soup is steaming hot, and have extra soup and biscuits ready for seconds.  Offer the garlic, vinegar, and chili sauce on the side for those who want to add a traditional Shaanxi style zip to their soup.

Dimpled surface

Tips

Make your own stock, if you like, by cooking 3 pounds bones in enough water to cover; either skim off the scum the forms or rinse the bones as you do the meat in Step 1. In a pressure cooker, the stock should take an hour or so; in a stockpot, figure on about 3 hours.

Notice the dimpled top of the uncooked biscuit on the right; I found that if I rolled the dough out another half or so inch wider and then used the palms of my hands to lightly roll the edges of the circle and gently make it smaller again, the biscuit wrinkled up a bit on top and had a nicer texture when it was cooked.

Stoned breads, aka circling a square

The Chinese northwest has a stunning variety of breads that are almost unknown outside of the area. Ranging from huge loaves as in this recipe to dainty stuffed biscuits called 白吉饃 báijímó, they probably descended from the breads travelers brought with them on the northern Silk Road, but once in China these recipes started to morph into things that had that distinctive Chinese stamp on them, with soy sauce and spices and alternative ways of cooking the breads setting these apart from their ancestors.

That is why, in addition to the previous recipe for traditionally thin crackers grilled on stones, local cooks have found that layered breads cook very nicely this way, too. Puffy and smoky, they end up with a crisp crust that cradles the delicate layers seasoned with sesame paste, green onions, or simply oil and salt. 

Secret ingredient: patience

Be advised that there is a distinct learning curve involved in making these addictive stone-grilled breads because timing the grilling depends upon the quirks of each individual stove and patience is called for once the dough hits the hot stones, because just like Goldilock's porridge it has to be juuust right. 

What I've done here is fool around with the traditional recipe for the layered, round loaves called 鍋盔 guōkuī (literally “wok helmets”) in Shaanxi in order to make these breads possible in American kitchens using jerry-rigged equipment. Also, I've added some unbleached cake flour to supply lightness and a tasty wheat edge, as well as a traditional Chinese starter to give the breads more of a rich, tangy flavor, making this more than just a simple yeasty dough, and this slow rising sucks up an extra day. So, more than a bit of improvisation has been involved here.

(Be warned that there is a whole lot of confusion when it comes to the names of the huge spectrum of breads and pastries out here, as some vendors might call, for example, a small stuffed biscuit guokui instead of baijimo, and it all goes downhill from there, which is another way of asking you in advance to not tell me that I have the names wrong.)

Fold in the filling

You can flavor these breads with just about anything you like. I've suggested sesame paste with pinches of ground Sichuan peppercorns and sea salt, but finely chopped green onions, cooked and seasoned chopped meats, or even brown sugar with cinnamon and butter would fit in nicely. The reason for this is that these layers not only season the bread, but also provide the steam that leads to that wonderful flakiness. 

As in the previous recipe, I've turned to a dash of steam to quickly puff up the breads so that they cook faster and more evenly. The happy result (and one I didn't plan for) is that the exterior of the breads turns shiny and crunchy-chewy, making an even lovelier contrast to the gentle interior.

Raised layered breads grilled on stones
Guōkuī shízimó  鍋盔石子饃 
Shaanxi

Makes 4 small loaves

Starter:

1 cup warm filtered water

1 tablespoon yeast

1 tablespoon sugar

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

¾ cup unbleached or whole wheat cake flour

Dough:

1½ cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus extra for kneading

1 tablespoon peanut or vegetable oil

Filling:

½ cup toasted sesame paste

1 tablespoon ground toasted Sichuan peppercorns

Sea salt to taste

Spray oil

Filtered water

Folded up around the filling

1. Start this recipe the afternoon before (or about 30 hours) the evening you plan to serve it. First make the starter: Pour the warm water in a medium work bowl and sprinkle on both the yeast and sugar. Give the yeast time to foam up and become completely active, and then stir in the cup of flour. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and a towel, and leave it to rise for around 10 to 12 hours, or before you go to bed. Stir in the unbleached cake flour, cover the bowl again, and let it rise for another 10 to 12 hours. You should have a bubbly bowl of starter the next morning that should smell strongly of yeast.

2. Stir and then finally knead in the 1½ cups flour gradually to make a soft, supple dough that is no longer sticky, adding more flour as necessary and using your pastry scraper to lift up the dough when it's still sticking to the board. When the dough is as gentle as an earlobe, clean out the mixing bowl with warm water, wipe it dry, and then rub the inside with the oil. Toss the ball of dough around in the oil to coat it completely. Cover the bowl with the plastic wrap and towel again until the dough is at least double in size. Punch the dough down and pull the edges of the dough up and then press them down into the center of the dough so that it the dough is completely deflated. Flip the ball of dough over so that the smooth side is on top, cover the bowl, and let it rise until double once more.

3. Cut the dough into 4 equal pieces and roll each one out into a thin rectangle (the size doesn't matter). Smear the dough with 2 tablespoons sesame paste, a large pinch of the ground Sichuan peppercorns, and a small pinch of sea salt, leaving a 1-inch border clean all around the rectangle. Fold the dough from the left over the center and then the right over the center, sort of like folding a business letter. Then fold the top down over the center and the bottom up over the center to form a square-ish package. Cover with the towel and let it rest while you repeat this with the other 3 pieces.

Circling the square

4. Now, turn each square into a circle by patting the edges with your palms as you turn the packet. Use the palm of your hand to press down firmly on the circle, and then use a Chinese rolling pin to work the dough out into a 7-inch circle of even thickness. Cover the circle with the towel while you repeat this step with the other 3 pieces of dough.

5. Heat the rocks as directed in the recipe for Crispy Rock-Grilled Flatbread, adding very clean pea gravel to the mix so that you have about an inch depth. Stir the rocks around once they are heated to the right temperature (reduce the heat to medium-low once the rocks are warmed up, because this bread will take longer to cook), spray them lightly with oil, and place one of the circles of dough on the hot rocks (but don’t cover it with rocks in this recipe). Pour about 2 tablespoons water into the pan, cover it, and let the bread cook until browned on the bottom. Use tongs to lift up the bread, use a spoon to stir around the rocks, lightly spray them with oil, and put the bread golden-side up on the rocks. Cover and cook until browned on the second side; you can flip the bread over a couple of times as you get used to how much heat is needed. Repeat with the rest of the dough. Serve hot or warm.

Tips

Pea gravel can be found in aquarium or craft stores; clean it carefully as directed in the previous recipe. This extra bunch of rocks helps even out the heat, I've found, for the slow grilling.

Err on the side of taking too long to cook the breads as you get accustomed to grilling them this way. You will soon find the correct heat and time needed with your particular stove.

I have added unbleached cake flour to the dough both for tenderness and flavor, but it can be omitted if you prefer all white flour.

Rockin' on the Silk Road

Some foods, once you hear of them, are simply are too wonderful to ignore, and Rock-Grilled Flatbread definitely falls into this category. How many breads do you know of that are cooked directly on stones? And they look so cool once they are done, with deep welts and bubbles rippling over the surface... a true showstopper.

These crackers – and that is what you actually end up with here – are simply delicious. Flavored with gentle suggestions of fennel and Sichuan peppercorns, they are easily broken into halves or quarters. I especially enjoy the flakiness; this is provided by the gentle rising power of a single egg combined with an easy method for first forming a flaky dough before mixing in the water, as well as a quick steam bath.

Thin, crispy Rock-Grilled Flatbreads are most often seen in the street markets of Xi’an in Shaanxi province, but they are also so commonplace there that they can be bought in supermarkets. However, as in both Henan and Shanxi provinces, some people make them into true breads that are larger and thicker; these end up as more traditional soft flatbreads with that rounded waffle pattern, and they are cut into wedges before serving (see the next post).

Form the dough into flakes first

The Chinese name for this bread is shizi mo because shizi means “rocks” and mo is the northern Chinese word for all sorts of pastries and breads. 

Of course, since these have been around a long time – they look like the happy results of experimenting with a campfire somewhere on a desert trail – shizi mo have many other names, such as 石頭餅 shítou bĭng (rock breads), 河卵烤 héluǎn kǎo (river egg [i.e., rock] bake), and 餑餑饃 bōbōmó (pastry bread).

Some people add milk to the bread instead of water, or let the dough ferment, or grill it on the coals by shoveling more hot rocks on top of the bread. (I will show this second way of cooking Rock-Grilled Flatbreads in the next blog post, and include a variation on the size of rocks used and flavors, too, as this is too good and weird a recipe to discuss only once.)

This is one of those ancient, delicious treats that offer all sorts of ways to make and enjoy it. (My current favorite: using it to scoop up hummus drizzled with lots of harissa, making this a sort of Silk Road jaunt from North China to the Levant on one plate.)

Beautiful & delicious

Crispy rock-grilled flatbreads 
Shízi mó 石子饃 
Henan, Shaanxi, Shanxi

Makes 10 large, crisp breads

2 teaspoons fennel or anise seeds

1 teaspoon ground toasted Sichuan peppercorns

1 teaspoon sea salt

4 cups Chinese flour

1 teaspoon sugar

1 large egg, beaten

¼ cup fresh peanut or vegetable oil

1 cup plus 3 tablespoons (or so) cool, filtered water

Spray oil

Water as needed

1. Before you start making the dough, set up your pan on the stove and place a layer of clean, smooth, rounded rocks on the bottom (see Tips). Have the cover nearby, as well as a pair of tongs and a plate for the finished crackers.

Roll out the spice-flecked dough

2. Grind the fennel seeds in a small food processor until they are a fine powder (see Tips). Empty the ground fennel into a medium work bowl and add the ground peppercorns, salt, flour, and sugar. Toss these together and then mix in the egg and oil to make a flaky dough. Pour in the cool water and stir this in to make a soft, supple dough, adding tiny dribbles of more water as needed to get the dough to come together. Knead the dough on a smooth surface for about 5 minutes; you should not need any more flour while kneading unless you added too much water, as the dough should be fairly tensile at this point, yet not in the least sticky or wet. Cover the dough and let it rest for about 20 minutes.

3. Cover the pan containing the rocks and place it over medium heat to warm up the stones while you roll out the dough.

Lay the dough on the hot rocks

4. Cut the dough into 10 even pieces. Form each piece into a ball and then use a Chinese rolling pin to roll each ball into a circle about 7 or 8 inches in diameter. (It doesn't matter if the circle looks more like an amoeba, as cooking the dough on the rocks will hide its actual shape.) Splash the pebbles with some water, and if the drops immediately hiss and evaporate, hold your hand about an inch above the rocks: your hand should feel very warm, but not hot (see Tips). Spray the rocks lightly with some oil and lay one of the flat pieces of dough loosely over the rocks so that it drapes over and around the stones. Pour in 2 tablespoons of water around the dough and immediately cover the pan. As soon as the steam slows down, use a pair of tongs to lift up the edge of the cracker; when it is done, it should be nicely browned in spots – sometimes even a bit charred, which is all right – and the dough will look dry rather than opaque. At this point turn the cracker over and cover the pan again for about a minute so that the dough is completely cooked (see Tips). Remove the cracker to the prepared plate and repeat this step with the rest of the dough, spraying the rocks as needed if the dough begins to stick.

5. The crackers can be served immediately or allowed to come to room temperature before being sealed in a plastic bag and stored in the refrigerator. Heat the crackers, if you want, in a 250°F oven for about 5 minutes, or until heated through.

Tips

Use whatever size rocks you like, from ½-inch to a bit more than an inch wide. The main requirement is that they be hard and smooth.

Small & smooth river rocks

Clean the rocks by scrubbing them under running water, place them in a colander, and then set them in the dishwasher whenever you are about to run a load; use hot water, if at all possible. Otherwise, wash the rocks carefully in a colander with soap and water, rinse thoroughly, and then boil them in plenty of water for 20 minutes or so.

If you don’t have a cache of nice pebbles hanging around your house, look for them in craft stores and aquarium supply places; nurseries often have them, but only in enormous bags.

Use a pan here that doesn't have a nice patina, as the dry heat will ruin it. I haul out my trust old smoker for this, as it is about 10 inches wide and is used to being abused with only dry heat.

Be sure and use a pan with a cover; this, forming the dough into oily flakes first, and the use of steam were my discoveries, as I tried to find a way to cook the dough evenly while promoting the formation of flaky layers. Here's to the mother of invention!

Supreme flakitude

Small amounts of spices can be hard to grind no matter how tiny your food processor is, so add some of the flour from the recipe to the processor (a couple of tablespoons should do it) to help move the fennel into the processor blades efficiently.

The amount of water used here may vary slightly according to how dry the flour is, the weather is, and so forth, so use the recommended amount and then only sprinkle on a bit more if the dough doesn't come together easily or is too stiff. You want the dough to become just soft enough that it can be kneaded without adding any more flour, and after it is rested you should be able to roll it out as is, with no additional flour necessary.

Stove temperatures are very different, so adjust the heat underneath your pan to keep the stones hot, but not too hot. Covering the pan as you warm up the rocks helps to lock in the heat quickly, but if you can’t hold your hand comfortably over the rocks an inch away, they’re probably overheated. In this case, simply move the pan off of the burner and let it cool down for a few minutes.

When the bottom side of the flatbread is done, you probably will still see some darker and shinier areas (especially on the edges) that tell you that more cooking is needed. Flip the bread over so that the uncooked areas are nudged up against some rocks, cover, and grill for another minute or two until the entire bread is cooked through.

Golden-edged cabbage from Xi'an

Cabbage has such a lousy reputation here in the States, but in China it is prepared with reverence and served with delight. 

Part of this has to do with the willingness by Chinese cooks to find luscious aspects to every level of doneness: from raw shreds tossed in a spicy vinaigrette to crisp torn leaves in a stir-fry to the mellowest of squares in a braise. No matter how it is prepared, though, it is done with care.

To the Chinese, cabbage (báicài 白菜, literally “white vegetable”) means one thing and one thing only: napa cabbage, those football-shaped and -sized veggies that reveal just the palest green on their leaves. And it is precisely that light jade or even yellow coloration that tells you the cabbage’s flatulent aromas will be sufficiently tamed. Since the inner leaves of the plant are shielded from the sun, their flavor ends up sweet and grassy.

Another unique aspect to this vegetable is that the main parts of the plant are its wide, white stalks, the leaves serving more as frilly decorations than anything else. These stems are crisp and juicy, and they are what really lend this “white vegetable” both its name and its popularity.

Napa cabbage

Grown and beloved throughout all of northern, western, and central China, this is a cold-weather vegetable, but also one that stores well when the temperature dips down below freezing. And so, along with root vegetables, this is what has served people well when little else has been available.

Perhaps because of this, or even in spite of it, napa cabbage has become a permanent part of dining tables in these regions. One of the best renditions is this one from Xi'an in Shaanxi province, which contrasts the inherent sweetness of the vegetable with dried chilies and tart vinegar to make a refreshing and positively addictive cool weather dish.

A Xi'an specialty

Golden-edged cabbage  
Jīnbiān báicài 金邊白菜
Shaanxi

Serves 4 

1½ pounds napa cabbage (about ½ large head or 1 small head)

5 dried Thai chilies

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

1 tablespoon finely chopped peeled fresh ginger

1½ tablespoons balsamic vinegar

1½ teaspoons regular soy sauce

½ teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

1. Rinse the cabbage carefully, removing any damaged leaves. Shake the cabbage dry and then cut out the core. Separate the leaves into stacks of 3 or 4 and place them curved-side down on a cutting board. Use the side of a cleaver to lightly whack the stems; this will serve to gently break them open (see Tips), and then cut them into pieces approximately 2 x 1 inches in size.

2. Break the chilies open and discard both the seeds and the stem ends. Cut them into smallish pieces. Heat a wok over high heat and then pour in the oil. Immediately add the chilies and fry them quickly until they have crisped up. Toss in the ginger and the cabbage and stir-fry the cabbage over high heat. As soon as the cabbage has wilted, add the vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, and sesame oil. Taste and adjust seasoning. Continue to toss the cabbage until all of the edges are a golden brown. Serve hot.

Tips

Fry the dried chilies til crispy

As noted above, select a cabbage that is as pale as possible, as this will help ensure its sweetness and delicate flavors.

Slightly whacking the cabbage gives it the opportunity to soak up flavors that otherwise would just slide off the slick stems. Be careful not to mash the cabbage, but rather open up the stiff stems.

The cabbage is then cut into what Chinese chefs call a “domino” (gŭpáipiàn 骨牌片) shape, one that is very common for stir-fries, as it is large enough to retain its character as a vegetable, but is small enough to be cooked quickly and evenly.

Add more chilies to this, if you like, and adjust the sweet and sour notes to fit your own taste.

Some people like to thicken the sauce with a final cornstarch slurry. If you are in this camp, mix a teaspoon of cornstarch with a tablespoon of filtered water and add it a few minutes before the cabbage is done so that the cornstarch has a chance to fully cook and lose its starchy texture.

Crepes and chili potatoes from Xi'an

I went to Xi'an to see the terracotta soldiers and stayed for the food.

Honestly, I love Xi'an. Unpretentious, beautiful, old fashioned, this former imperial capital that was once called Chang'an has become a bit of a cultural backwater, and few folks would notice it if it weren't for those soldiers from 2,000 years ago. 

That's what brought me there, but it is not what captured my imagination. In fact, I became more than a bit grumpy during our stay, as tour groups are herded into what seem to be mandatory "dumpling feasts" that have pretty but tasteless food, and it truly bothered me that I was wasting valuable stomach space and time on this endeavor.

Yum

There's just so much more to enjoy there, and much of it is the friendly people and glorious things they eat. After I got home, I wanted to learn how to re-create their street snacks and the things that families put on their tables, for it's simple, good food with haunting flavors and textures.

Take, for example, today's dish. Shaanxi (where Xi'an is located) has traditionally been a relatively impoverished area, and so the people there have learned to be frugal. However, they also love to eat, and this is the sort of meal that people on tight budgets could present to their guests with considerable pride. Everything works perfectly. Not a scrap of meat is in here, no fancy vegetables or sauces. The main ingredients are just flour and potatoes, which may sound like a carb meltdown, but it's a triumph of ingenuity over cash flow.

China's northern provinces are justly famous for their noodles and breads, but another item that doesn't get mentioned enough are its crêpes. Yes, crêpes.

Frying crepe

Again, nothing foofoo about this at all; simply flour, water, and salt fried in a barely oiled flat pan. But what you end up with are thin pancakes that are wonderfully bouncy and chewy, their edges rimmed with crunch, and they are the ideal foil for the potatoes. The people in Shaanxi province often wrap any number of items in crêpes, so this is a delicious skill to master if you like the local foods as much as I do.

You might have never tried stir-fried potatoes before, and this is a great place to start. China's north has taken to such native American foods as potatoes and chilies like a house on fire, and now they are as much a part of the local cuisine as anything else. But instead of baked or mashed or french fried potatoes, you will find stewed and braised and even stir-fried renderings of this lovely tuber.

Onion & potato matchsticks

When you stir-fry potatoes, the key is to use the right variety of potato and then cut it correctly. Yukon Golds are great, as they hold their shape and don't break down like regular baking potatoes. If you don't have them in your area, ask your grocer to recommend something similar.

Next, you'll need to cut these into thin matchsticks called julienne. Don't be tempted to grate the potatoes; you'll end up with mush rather than gently crunchy strips. See the directions below on how to do this right.

This makes a deliciously satisfying meal any time of the day. I especially enjoy this for breakfast with a bowl of hot soy milk. 

Dappled crepes

Crepes and chili potatoes 
Jianbing juan tudousi 煎餅捲土豆絲 
Shaanxi
Makes 6 filled crepes and serves about 2 people

1 cup Korean noodle flour (see Tips)
½ teaspoon sea salt
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons warm filtered water
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, or similar variety
2 green onions, trimmed
4 tablespoons (or so) peanut or vegetable oil
1 to 3 teaspoons dried powdered chili (see Tips)
1 teaspoon sea salt
Chili Sauce (see below)

1. Place the flour in a medium work bowl. Stir the salt into the warm water until it dissolves and then mix the salt water into the flour to form a thin batter with the consistency of cream; it's quite all right if there are some lumps in the batter. Let it sit while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Cut into slices, then julienne

2. You may peel the potatoes or leave them unpeeled, whichever you prefer. Rinse the potatoes and pat dry. Slice off one edge of the long side of a potato so that it lies flat on your cutting board. Then, cut the potato into very thin slices before cutting the slices into very thin matchsticks. Repeat with the other potato. Cut the green onions into 2-inch pieces, flatten slightly with the side of a cleaver or heavy knife, and cut them into thin matchsticks, as well.

3. Heat the oil in a wok over medium high and add the chili powder to taste, as well as the salt. Let the chili heat up in the oil and slowly turn from red to brown. Turn the heat up to high and add the potatoes and green onions. Stir-fry quickly until the potatoes have lost their rawness but are still slightly crisp. Cover the wok, remove from the heat, and let it sit on the side while you cook the crêpes.

Make the chili oil

4. Heat a flat skillet about 8 inches in diameter over medium high. Lightly oil the pan using a piece of paper towel dipped in oil. (More than that and the crêpe will roll around in the pan, rather than stay put.) When the oil barely starts to smoke, pour in about a sixth of the batter and swirl the pan around so that the batter covers most of the bottom of the pan. Cook it, adjusting the heat as necessary, until the top has some bubbles and is fairly dry, and the edges start to curl up. Flip the crêpe over and cook for a few seconds to barely brown the other side. Remove to a plate and cover with another plate to keep the crêpe warm. Repeat with the rest of the batter until you have about 6 crêpes.

5. Make the Chili Sauce (below). Serve the crêpes and potatoes hot alongside the sauce, and have everyone fill and roll their own crêpes, dribbling a bit of the sauce inside the crêpe. Eat with chopsticks at the top of the roll and the fingers of the other hand steadying the bottom. Enjoy.

Chili Sauce

Chili Garlic Sauce

This is a sauce I like to make for just about anything, from dumplings to meats to veggies:

2 tablespoons Lee Kum Kee brand Chili Garlic Sauce (or your favorite)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
4 tablespoons roasted sesame oil

1. Heat the chili garlic sauce and soy sauce together in a pan until bubbly. Remove from the heat and pour in the sesame oil, taste, and adjust seasoning.

2. Scrape into a small bowl and serve.

Tips

Korean noodle flours

The Korean noodle flour I love has changed its packaging. Here is a picture of the new look on the left, with an equally good brand on the right. Both work really well for Chinese breads and pastas, as they have the correct amount of gluten. American flours tend to have too much gluten, and so Chinese recipes made with them come out tough.

Use as much or little chili powder in the potatoes as you like. It's hard to give an exact amount, as chilies and palates differ so much. Besides, you can always add more zip with the sauce if the filling is not hot enough.