Easy Beijing-style smoked chicken, plus toasted peppercorn salt

Smoked chicken sounds so exotic, not to say tasty, that it must be hard, right? 

The fact is, smoking a bird is totally easy and will ensure your reputation as a terrific Chinese cook.

I've been making smoked chickens for decades now, and started out with Barbara Tropp's recipe in her wonderful Modern Art of Chinese Cooking. 

In fact, if you don't have her book in your collection, get it, if for nothing else than her detailed description on how to set up a home smoker. I will offer some simple advice on that here, but for the answer to every question you might have about Chinese-style smoking, check out the late great Tropp's book.

Smoked chicken is one of those delights that can be made well in advance of any party, is about 100 times simpler than it looks, and probably would convince the most die-hard vegetarian that maybe just a nibble would be all right.

All you need to do is get a good, organic, free-range chicken so that it is full of chicken-y flavor. Then, rub it all over with either gaoliang (white liquor) or Shaoxing rice wine and a finely ground mix of roasted Sichuan peppercorns and sea salt, steam it for about an hour until it's about 80% done, and then pop it into a smoker, either in a DIY job (see below in step 3) or in something like the little stove top smoker that I have happily used for quite a while now. If you have any leftovers, they are beyond delicious in salads, sandwiches, and everywhere else, while the juices have a divine smokiness that demands a hot bowl of noodles to do them justice.

Steam the chicken on a trivet

If this is the first time you've attempted smoking something, read the directions and tips through a couple of times so that every step becomes very familiar. Turn on the stove fan as high as it will go and open a couple of windows for cross ventilation if your fan is less than strong. You will pretty soon find yourself smoking salmon, trout, pork belly, hardboiled eggs, and just about anything else that will fit. It's just that delicious.

The Toasted Sichuan Peppercorn Salt is a delightful condiment to have on hand. Use it to season fish or poultry, as the resiny aromas make seafood and chicken taste fresh and lively. It also is handy as a dip for steamed chicken, sprinkled in fried breads, or rubbed into pork roasts. The main requirements are that you use fresh peppercorns for their sprightly flavor and that you grind them as finely as possible, since any coarse pieces feel like grains of sand in the mouth.

Beijing style smoked chicken 

Jīngshì xūnjī  京式薰雞

Beijing

Serves 4 to 6 as a main entree, 8 to 12 as part of a multi-course meal

Chicken:

1 whole roasting chicken (about 5 to 6 pounds); use a large whole fryer if a roasting chicken is not available

4 tablespoons gaoliang white liquor or Shaoxing rice wine

2 tablespoons Toasted Sichuan Peppercorn Salt (below)

Smoke:

½ cup dry, uncooked rice of any kind

½ cup dry tealeaves of any kind

½ cup  sugar of any kind

A couple tablespoons of aromatics (dried orange peel, star anise, stick cinnamon, etc.)

Toasted sesame oil

1. Clean the chicken and pat it dry inside and out with a paper towel; rinse and pat dry the giblets, if you like. Place the chicken in a large work bowl and rub half of the liquor inside the cavity and then rub half of the peppercorn salt in there, as well. Massage the outside of the chicken with the rest of the liquor and peppercorn salt. Toss in the giblets with the marinade and let the chicken marinate for an hour or so.

Steamed and placed in the smoker

2. Spray a trivet and a large, high-rimmed, heatproof platter with oil. Lay the chicken on the trivet and tuck the giblets into the chicken's cavity; pour the marinade over the chicken. Place the chicken in a steamer and steam on high heat for about an hour, until the chicken is about 80% done, adding more water to the steamer as needed. To check for doneness, pierce the thigh with a skewer; it should go in easily but release pink juice. Remove the chicken from the steamer (and the giblets from the cavity) and let it cool to room temperature, and then place it in a breezy area so that the skin dries completely.

Smoking permitted in my kitchen

3.  Prepare your smoker by lining either the old wok or the smoker's fuel bowl with heavy foil. Place the rice, sugar, and aromatics in the smoker and place either an oiled rack or an oiled smoker's tray over the rice. Position the chicken in the center of the smoker. Place the smoker on a rear burner (where there usually is better suction for the overhead fan) and turn the heat under it to high. Wait until the smoke begins to emerge in thick plumes (see the second photo from the top), and then cover the smoker; if you are using an old wok, wrap the foil lining up around the edge of the lid, leaving only a small opening for the smoke to escape. 

Toasted Sichuan peppercorn salt 

Huājiāo yán  花椒研 

All over China

Makes about 1 cup

1 cup Sichuan peppercorns

½ cup sea salt

Peppercorns and salt

1. Place the peppercorns and salt in a dry wok and stir them over medium heat until the salt turns tan and the peppercorns start to pop; it should smell fragrant at this point and the peppercorns should smoke a little bit. Remove the wok from the heat and let the ingredients come to room temperature. 

2. Grind the roasted peppercorns and salt very finely. They should have the texture of talcum powder, so do this as finely as you can. The powder can be shaken through a fine sieve if blender or spice grinder is not up to the job.

3. Store the peppercorn salt in a jar and keep it in a cool, dark place.

The texture of baby powder

4. Smoke the chicken for about 10 to 15 minutes, turn the chicken over, and smoke it for another 10 to 15 minutes, depending upon the size of the chicken and how hot your stove is. The chicken is done when the skin is a dark mahogany color, as in the photo at the top of this page. Remove the chicken from the steamer and let it come to room temperature. The chicken may be made ahead of time up to this point and refrigerated.

5. Lightly rub some sesame oil on the skin to make it shine. Use a cleaver to cut the cold chicken into whatever size pieces you want. If the chicken is still pink inside, or if you want to serve the chicken hot, wrap the chicken in foil and bake at 350 degrees F for about 15 minutes, or until heated through.

  

Tips

A good quality bird that is fresh and plump will make this dish flavorful and especially tasteful, so I always use an organic, free range chicken. You can also use chicken parts, like legs and thighs, if you prefer. Chicken livers can be easily steamed and smoked if you thread them on bamboo skewers first, since they will not fall apart that way; just be sure to not steam or smoke them too long.

The gaoliang or rice wine will remove gamy smells in the same way that the peppercorns do, resulting in a chicken that tastes particularly fresh. Taiwan's gaoliang from the island of Kinmen (Jinmen) is especially good.

Steaming the chicken until it is almost done ensures that the meat will be juicy and not overcooked, since it will be subjected to further heat in the smoker. 

Steam and smoke the chicken on a trivet, which allows both the steam and the smoke to flow easily around the bird.

Cut up the chicken with a sharp cleaver or heavy knife while the chicken is still cold. This way, the meat will not fall apart and the bones are less liable to shatter. Then, rearrange the chicken into a pleasing pattern, which usually means putting it back together again like a puzzle.

Vary the flavors by using different aromatics and wines.

Directions from All Under Heaven!

Save your stale uncooked rice and tealeaves for the smoker; you won't be able to taste whether they are fresh or not here, since they end up being little more than fuel. Don't bother wasting good tea or rice on the smoker.

To make your own smoker, use an unfinished (i.e., not nonstick) steel wok with a tight-fitting lid that you will never use for stir-frying again, since this high dry heat will ruin the finish. Good places to find old woks and lids are second-hand stores, garage sales, and so forth. 

Drawing copyright (c) Carolyn Phillips, 2015

All Rights Reserved

A case of culinary masochism

"Numb" isn't a word we connect with many cuisines. So when I think about this subject dispassionately, numbness doesn't come to mind as something that I want my mouth to deal with while I'm enjoying my food.

But the problem is, I can't be dispassionate about Sichuan peppercorns. In fact, I'm absolutely bonkers about their flavor, the tingly lips and tongue I get with that first bite, the fresh aroma that teases my nostrils while they're being dry-fried, the resiny perfume that billows out of my kitchen when I grind them, the scent of them as they're ground into a fine powder and sprinkled as a finishing touch over savory dishes, and the incredible layer of pleasure and - yes - pain that occurs when Sichuan peppercorns are coupled with their perfect partners in culinary mayhem, chili peppers.

It wasn't always like this. I wasn't always a culinary masochist. Once upon a time I barely could handle jalapenos, much less their hellish brethren like habaneros and Thai bird chilies. But too many Mexican and Asian meals over the years have seared little callouses on my taste buds, and now I belly up to the chili bar with the best of them. 

This strange numbness, though... that took a bit of getting used to. Like cilantro or stinky bean curd or preserved eggs, Sichuan peppercorns are an acquired taste, but in the end they too are totally worth the effort. 

My first taste of Sichuan peppercorns was as a ground dust on top of a bowl of Sichuan-style noodles at one of my favorite dives in Taipei, and as I had had no warning of what was to befall my innocent palate, I was more than a bit taken aback. In fact, I actually dropped my chopsticks at Old Zhang's Noodle Shop in surprise. I sat there stunned as my lips lost all feeling and my tongue decided to check out for a couple of minutes in what must have been nothing short of pure shock. Sweat burst out of every pore on my body, as I remember, but it was the assault on my mouth that confused me. 

However, being hungry (as I usually am), I picked up my chopsticks and forged ahead. After a few moments of tentative munching, that delectable bowl of Dan Dan Noodles cajoled me like a cruel but tender mistress, the soft doughy tendrils writhing in flavors that blinkered between sour and spicy and sweet, between creamy and salty and numbing. Sichuan's fierce flower pepper beat down the last of my resistance, convincing me to slurp up every last drop of the sauce, and leading me to search the menu on the wall for something even more numbing. I submitted to these new sensations, and I loved it.

Welcome, everyone, to my very first R-rated meal.

So what are Sichuan peppercorns? I've heard them called prickly ash, which doesn't sound like something I'd care to eat, as it brings to mind hideous memories of summer camp and calamine lotion.  The Chinese name is much prettier: huajiao, or "flower pepper," perhaps because the shiny black peppercorns themselves always appear encased in their red round pods. They grow on bushy trees that are covered with thorns, and so when I say that a friend gave me a nice bagful of fresh peppercorns that she had painstakingly harvested, I mean that literally. These guys do not want to be picked. 

Chiaying's peppercorns

Sichuan peppercorn plants grow easily from seed or softwood cuttings, though, so if you want to have a go at cultivating your own, you should be able to have a tiny harvest in a few years. And if the promise of growing your very own peppercorns is not enough, the tender spring leaves are what the Japanese call kinome, and they are certainly a delicacy worth growing. Expensive and rare, these tiny serrated leaves possess a gentle fragrance that is followed by some of that Sichuanese heat. The window where the fresh leaves are perfect for eating is short, so you have to be on your toes around these plants.

Sichuan peppercorns should be dried and then kept in a closed container in a cool, dry place. They keep pretty well, but if you're going to be keeping them for a very long time - over a year, say - I'd recommend placing them in a freezer bag and storing them in the freezer.

Now, let's get to the good part: making things out of Sichuan peppercorns.

The easiest thing to make out of these little gems is Roasted Sichuan Pepper and Salt Dip (see the squash blossom recipe from last month), and second to that  is Numbing Chili Oil. This is a staple in my kitchen, and one that I hope will soon be a part of your culinary arsenal, too. The quantities are rather fluid here: you can adjust the heat easily by adding more plain oil to the finished product, but if you want it even hotter, use less oil. Make this your own private recipe by balancing the heat, the numbness, and the other flavors by adding more or less sesame oil, a couple strips of dried tangerine peel, some star anise, slices of fresh ginger... whatever rocks your personal boat. The most important thing here is to gently fry the spices in the oil, giving them a chance to release their fragrance and slowly slowly slowly blacken, as this will give the oil a nice smokiness. 

Putting the "prickly" in prickly ash

Use this oil wherever a bit of heat and lip-tingling is desired. Noodles become divine with a good dollop of this this, and you can't go wrong adding it to dipping sauces for Chinese dumplings (jiaozi), sprinkled over stir-fries, or added to cold dishes, especially anything with chicken. 

I could easily imagine drizzling this over some rich vanilla ice cream. But then again, I am bonkers about the stuff.

Numbing chili oil

Chili peppers & peppercorns

Malayou  麻辣油
Sichuan
Makes about 2 cups oil

3 cups vegetable oil (peanut oil is great here)
Handful of dried chilies (any kind will do depending upon your tastes; I like chiles de arbol with a couple of dried chipotles and pasillas to flavor the mix)
Handful of ground dried chilies (the coarsely ground chilies in Korean markets work particularly well here)
Handful of dried Sichuan peppercorns
Roasted sesame oil to taste

1. Put the vegetable oil, chilies, ground chilies, and Sichuan peppercorns in a quart saucepan. Bring the pot to a simmer over high heat and then immediately lower it to a gentle shimmer. Let the spices slowly roast in the oil. All the spices will eventually turn black, which is what you want, as this will add a smokiness to the oil, but they must be cooked slowly so that they don't char and turn bitter. 

2. As soon as the spices are either a very dark brown or black, remove the pan from the heat. When the oil has come to room temperature, add some roasted sesame oil to taste and then either pour the oil and the spices into a clean quart jar or strain out the spices and pour the oil into a clean bottle. Either way, store the oil in a cool, dark place, and it will be fresh and delicious for at least a month. Consider pouring a bit of the strained oil into a small squirt bottle so that you can use it as a finishing sauce whenever you want to give a dish a little oomph.