Christmas biscuits chez Huang that channel Shirley Corriher

Vice Munchies included All Under Heaven in its shortlist of Best Cookbooks for 2016. 

And Wendell Brock at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution did the same thing. 

I'm so blown away. I never thought this would happen, but here it is. Wow. I have a lot to complain about when it comes to 2016, but as far as the books are concerned, all I can say is Thank You! on eternal loop. 

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I first fell in love with these amazing biscuits in Portland, when the great cooking science author Shirley Corriher was demonstrating how easy it was to make them, even when scores of hungry people are milling around you. 

We were all at the IACP convention, and this had to be the highlight of the entire experience for me. As Shirley explains in this video, the original recipe came from her grandmother, and she has refined it over the years into a masterpiece.

Now, I wrote about these biscuits when I first started this blog, so even I pretty much forgot about that post until just now. (Do check it out for the original recipe, and also for the video I taped of the lady herself making the biscuits.)

And I have to agree with you, if you happen to notice, that this recipe is not even peripherally Chinese. However, Touch of Grace Biscuits are just so delicious that you can throw out every other biscuit recipe ever made, as far as I am concerned.

These are the lightest bits of pastry I’ve ever tasted. And here’s the reason why: they are neither rolled nor dropped. Instead, very wet blobs of dough are tossed in flour, which holds them in place long enough to get sidled up against other wet blobs of dough and shoved into an oven. And because the dough is so wet, the biscuits bloom into puffs of air held together, again, by that flour coating, which just sort of disappears when its work is done. 

That’s what happens when a dedicated food scientist messes with your biscuits. It's inspired.

Light as a feather

Touch of Grace Biscuits are perfect as is, and don’t even need butter or honey or gravy to make them shine. The dab of melted butter on the top is the exact right amount in my book, and if it’s good quality salted butter – like Kerrygold – the taste turns out to be astonishingly good. However, I would never say no to one of these if they were properly adorned with butter or a slice of ham or whatever else might be seducing my attention.

I like to make these biscuits the day after a holiday, especially if people are showing up for brunch. I throw a small ham in the oven, bake these biscuits, and offer a bowl of fruit along with the coffee and orange juice. It’s a great way to end a holiday gathering without getting too stressed.

The cutest damn label in the world

Over the years, I’ve of course messed around with it just a little bit – or maybe a lot. There is kefir in here instead of buttermilk, half of the sugar in the original, and it’s baked in a cast iron skillet instead of a cake pan. 

In addition, I’ve used super-fine cake flour here plus baking powder and an extra dash of salt instead of the self-rising flour called Tenda-Bake or White Lily that Shirley always calls for, basically because I never have any other need for the stuff, and because it always gets buggy before I use it all up. Also, I didn’t care for the flavor of the leavening in the self-rising flour when it was used to powder the balls of dough and much preferred plain flour there.

Ingredients in my version

But then again, this is Shirley’s recipe, so of course try hers too in order to see which one you prefer. However you make these biscuits, you will end up a convert.

Touch of Grace Biscuits chez Huang

Makes about 16

Spray oil

2 cups / 300 g super-fine cake flour, like from Bob’s Red Mill

1 tablespoon baking powder

¾ teaspoon sea salt

2 tablespoons sugar

Use a pastry knife to mix in the shortening

1 cup / 150 g cake flour for shaping the biscuits

4 tablespoons white shortening, room temperature (see Tips)

⅔ cup/ 155 ml heavy (or whipping) cream

1 cup / 250 ml kefir or buttermilk

2 tablespoons butter, melted

1. Heat your oven to 425°F / 220°C and set one shelf just below the center of the oven. Spray the oil on the inside of a 9-inch / 23-cm cast iron frying pan (or a similarly sized round or square cake pan – whatever you like). 

Toss in the cream

2. You will want to make these biscuits by hand, rather than in a mixer or food processor, since a) this will make the pastries much lighter and b) it’s just easier to do it this way. To measure the flour in cups, simply dip your 1-cup measure into the flour and then scoop off the top with a knife – this way the flour doesn’t get tamped down. Stir together the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar with a dry balloon whisk. Don’t skimp on this step, as you want the leavening to be very easily distributed.

3. Have a pastry knife ready, as well as an ice cream scoop and silicone spatula, and place the extra cup of flour in a medium work bowl for Step 5. Work the shortening with the pastry knife into the flour and baking powder mixture until there are no large lumps. Shake the bowl gently to encourage any large clumps of fat rise to the top, and then chop away at the flour mixture until it looks sandy. (If you don't have a pastry knife, or dough blender, or whatever you want to call it, simply work the flour and fat together with your fingertips as Shirley shows in the first video.)

Dough arranged in the pan

4. Use the silicone spatula to toss in the cream, which will give you large clumps of dough. Be sure and toss these ingredients together with the spatula, rather than stir, as this will incorporate all of the dry ingredients without toughening the dough. Gently stir in buttermilk until the dough resembles cottage cheese. The leavening will start to foam as soon as the kefir hits it (that’s the baking powder reacting with the acidic kefir), so it will fluff up. (This is also why this is officially called “double-acting baking powder,” because you get an initial rise when wet meets dry, and then again when the dough is cooked.)

5. Use an ice cream scoop to pick up plum-sized balls of dough. Toss these around in the flour to coat them well. Shake off the excess and arrange these in the skillet, packing the balls of dough tightly together so that they all fit. Bake them until the tops are a golden brown, about 20 to 25 minutes. Brush the top of the biscuits with the melted butter. Use a fork to lift out the biscuits and serve immediately. Any leftovers can be split and toasted, and by the way those are truly excellent when they turn all crunchy, plus then they will be better able to withstand whatever toppings you like.

The proper way to measure solid fat

Tips

Measure the shortening the way my seventh grade home ec teacher taught me: Fill a measuring cup with 1 cup cool tap water minus the amount of fat you need. So here, since you need 4 tablespoons, fill the cup with ¾ cup water. Then, press the fat down into the water so it is covered, which gives you an accurate measurement. Keep adding the shortening until the water level reaches 1 cup, and you then have a quarter cup (= 4 tablespoons) of fat in there. Empty out all the water, and there you are.

Be sure to gently squish the balls of dough up against each other in the pan. Otherwise, you will run out of room.

That cottage cheese look

Also, shake off the extra flour once each ball has been coated. This ensures that the biscuits won't have dry areas.

Whatever you do, don't make these in a food processor or with an electric mixture. Go easy on the dough, as it is more like a delicate cake batter than a packaged mix. 

Enjoy the textures of the dough as it undergoes the various chemical reactions. It turns out to be quite sensuous and wonderful, and the transformation when the kefir is added is positively thrilling, as far as I'm concerned. Yes, I'm a food nerd. We've established that.

A Buddhist dish that's soft and sexy

Photo courtesy of Chowhound

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution published an amazingly erudite review of both All Under Heaven and The Dim Sum Field Guide last month, and my deepest gratitude goes out to the author, JBF winner Wendell Brock. 

He writes things that make me blush and also feel incredibly proud, like, "With All Under Heaven, Carolyn Phillips delivers a remarkable love letter to the infinite variety of Chinese cooking." And then he goes on to say about the Field Guide, "It is as erudite as it is darling." Such lovely words sure do my heart (and ego) good. Thanks, Wendell!

Photo courtesy of Drawn & Quarterly

Canada seems to be liking AUH too, as evidenced by this remarkable bit of news: It made the top five best-selling cookbooks in Quebec! Yay, and thanks to the Drawn & Quarterly Bookstore in Montreal for the shout out and high honors. (And what a great name for a cookbook store...)

Finally, Chowhound has given its considerable blessing to AUH by including it on its "Cookbook Gift Guide for the Holidays." Thank you, Chowhound! This is what the folks there had to say: "Wrap your head around all the varieties of Chinese food in this comprehensive, contemporary portrait of a country's culinary geography and the history that has shaped it." And not only did these fine folks somehow prop me up near the top of that list, but I also find myself surrounded by some of my favorite authors. A terrific honor, and I am both moved and grateful. 

Now, on to more food...

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Simplicity doesn’t have to mean boring, at least when it comes to vegan dishes like this. In fact, this dish is not only simple to make, but also fast and delicious.

The main ingredient in this traditional Buddhist dish from the Yangtze area is soy skin (aka yuba in Japanese), which forms on soymilk when it is being simmered, sort of like the stuff that collects at the top of your cocoa when your great-aunt makes it. In other words, this is simply a thin layer of protein.

But unlike that chewy layer of milk – something that has never charmed me much, to tell you the truth – soy skin is terrific. It has a wonderful texture that changes depending up whether it was dried or bought fresh, and also alters even further if it is, say, deep-fried, braised, or steamed. Dim sum restaurants often wrap julienned vegetables in these soy sheets before either steaming or frying them.

The easy ingredients

If you are a meatless sort of person, soy skin is one ingredient you should get to know up close on a personal basis. It has a bit of a chameleon character due to its different guises. Vegetarian ham or chicken, for example, is made out of gently stewed soy skins that are wrapped up into tight balls and then steamed to set their shape. One of my favorite versions even smokes these grapefruit-sized spheres, and that gives them even more of a meaty texture and flavor.

Today, though, we are going to be looking at a recipe that really is effortless. You can make it with either fresh or dried soy skins. I happened to have a package of fresh ones in the fridge, so that’s what I went with, but honestly, the dried ones are good, too. They have more of a leathery character in this dish, and that is not bad at all, since vegan dishes often can use a bit more texture.

The other main component here are fresh soybeans, what the Chinese call máodòu 毛豆 and the Japanese refer to as edamame. They are available in most supermarket freezers nowadays – and are almost impossible to find fresh – so go the easy route here and have a bag of these shelled beans ready to go in your own freezer.

Rinse off the packaged water

I like to cook this delicious dish in a light braise that is packed with flavor. To do that, I first fry fresh ginger and green onions in some oil, and then add a good wallop of Shaoxing rice wine, soy sauce, and sugar. That’s pretty much it. Who says dinner has to be stressful? Serve over some rice with maybe a bit of greens on the side, and your work is done.

Red-braised soy skins

Hóngshāo fŭpí 紅燒腐皮

Jiangsu

Serves 2 as a main dish, 4 as a side

3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

5 slices ginger

Braise the soy skins

2 green onions, trimmed and cut into 1-inch / 2-cm lengths

5 ounces / 140 g fresh soy skins, or one large dried soy skin sheet

Warm water, as needed

6 tablespoons / 90 cc Shaoxing rice wine

¾ cup / 180 cc water

2 tablespoons / 30 cc regular soy sauce

Rock sugar about the size of a cherry, or agave syrup or white sugar to taste

¼ cup / 1½ ounces / 40 g shelled green soybeans (frozen is your best bet)

1. Set a wok over medium heat and then add the oil. Sprinkle in the ginger and green onions, and fry them until they are browned. You can remove them for more formal dinners, but for family meals feel free to leave them in.

2. While the ginger and onions are browning, work on preparing the soy skins. Fresh ones should be rinsed in warm water to remove any off flavors – I usually do this in a colander set in the sink. A dried sheet should be soaked in warm water until it is soft, then drained and rinsed. Tear the skin into pieces about the size of your hand and then drain.

Perfectly delicious

3. Add the rice wine, water, soy sauce, and sugar to the wok. Bring this to a boil and add the soy skins. When this comes to a boil once again, lower the heat to maintain a bare simmer, cover the wok, and then stir the skins occasionally to ensure that they cook evenly. After about 40 minutes, most of the liquid should be gone. Taste and adjust the seasoning, then toss in the soybeans. Cover the pan and cook for another 5 minutes or so to simply heat them through, as the frozen beans have already been blanched. Remove the cover, raise the heat (if necessary) to boil down any extra sauce, and then serve immediately.