Northwestern roasted fish for the New Year

It's still Chinese New Year, and one of the most important things you can serve at a meal during these two weeks is fish. If you are preparing this next year for New Year's Eve, you should leave at least half of it for the following evening's dinner, along with the words "nian nian you yu" 年年有餘. What this means is "may every year have plenty." And you say that because "plenty" in Chinese sounds just like "fish" (yú 魚). 

The Chinese invariably include the head and the tail, as these represent wishes that run from the beginning to the end of the year. Besides, they're awfully tasty.

Crispy cumin & juicy jalapeños

In the desert areas, freshwater fish is traditionally barbecued in a way that resembles Xinjiang-Style Lamb Kebabs: The fish is butterflied, seasoned, and then skewered on long, thin sticks. Because fish are more delicate, though, these are angled a short distance from the fire so that they cook more slowly. 

You can achieve something very similar if you roast the fish in a hot oven, as the olive oil crisps up the skin. I like the way that the cumin turns into crunchy bits that contrast perfectly with the juicy flesh. You can, of course, also barbecue this over a small amount of coals that are covered in white ash.

Butterfly body, then flatten head

Northwestern roasted fish

Xīnjiāng kǎoyú 新疆烤魚

Northwest

Serves 4

  

1 whole mild fish (about 1 pound), like branzino, grass carp, bass, or tilapia

¾ teaspoon sea salt

Spray oil

Extra virgin olive oil, as needed

2 teaspoons whole cumin

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 red jalapeño peppers, seeded and finely chopped

1. Heat the oven to 500°F, or its highest setting. Scale, gut, and clean the fish, and remove the gills. Slash the sides in the “willow leaf” pattern (page TK). If you like, remove the bones (or have your fishmonger do this). Butterfly it by opening up the fish completely along the belly—lay it with all the skin facing you so that you can flatten the fish by pressing along its backbone. Massage the salt into both sides of the fish and let it marinate for around 10 minutes.

Ready to go

2. Oil a broiler pan. Rub some olive oil on both sides of the fish, and try to hit every spot. Lay the fish flesh side up and sprinkle it with half of the cumin, garlic, and chili peppers. Roast the fish for about 8 minutes, or until the flesh is starting to brown. Remove the fish, turn it over, drizzle a bit more olive oil over the skin, and sprinkle it with the rest of the cumin and chili peppers. Roast it for another 10 minutes, or so, until the skin is golden and crispy. Plate the fish and pour the drippings from the broiler pan over the fish.

  

Being a vegetarian in Xinjiang, plus tomatoes and eggs

While the areas along the lower Yangtze are home to a vibrant Buddhist food culture that combines ingenuity with a kaleidoscope of fresh ingredients, China’s desert lands pose a challenge for those who prefer meatless meals. 

At least, that was our discovery when my husband and I, then very much dedicated vegetarians, traveled there in the fall of 2001. The problem really wasn’t the lack of vegetables — we ate well, that is for sure — but everyone else in the tour group (nay, the entire Northwest, it seemed) ate little else but meat, and so whenever a restaurant had to think up something to serve just the two of us, panic ensued.

Grape/cherry tomatoes: yum

The assumption by the waitstaff and the cooks was that we were undernourished because we were not consuming enough protein, and so we were given combinations of tomatoes with eggs at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. For the first few days it was kind of funny, and it became a running joke, whether we would have tomatoes and eggs, or eggs and tomatoes, or tomato and egg soup, or egg and tomato over noodles, or some other variation on this increasingly monotonous theme.

By the second week, I had had enough and insisted that I be able to order my own food. The tour guide assumed I was going to bankrupt them with wild demands, but I pointed out that vegetarian dishes were always the cheapest things on the menu. Over the next few weeks, we ate great food while managing to completely avoid both tomatoes and eggs. 

Easy slicing: Step 1

It took me about four years before I could even face the idea of Tomatoes and Eggs again, but when I did, I fell in love all over once more. This is so good that it’s popular all over North China, as well as the Northwest.

There are a few secrets to making these two ingredients turn into something extraordinarily good: 

First, the tomatoes have to be deliciously ripe and the eggs must be fresh and free-range. 

Second, the tomatoes should be in large enough pieces that they do not mush up, as this allows them to retain their individuality. 

I mean, really easy

Third — and this is where most restaurant versions drop the ball — the tomatoes have to be fried in oil with aromatics and a touch of sugar until they almost caramelize, which makes their juices concentrate into a thick marmalade. This juice is what then coats each yellow egg curd and makes it all so luscious. 

Finally, season this with salt rather than soy sauce to keep the flavors sharp and the colors bright.

If you love jiaozi, consider using this as an especially wonderful filling, one that is often enjoyed in the Beijing area as a homey treat. Just cool the finished dish and then chop up any pieces that are larger than ½ inch all around. That’s all there is to it.

Fry with aromatics

Tomatoes and eggs

Xīhóngshì chǎo jīzĭ  西紅柿炒雞子

Northwest

Serves 4 to 6

1 pound very tasty, red tomatoes of any kind (see Tip)

5 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil, divided

½ teaspoon sea salt

1 tablespoon finely chopped ginger

2 green onions, trimmed and finely chopped, with the whites in one pile and the greens in another

½ to 1 teaspoon sugar

Freshly ground black pepper

4 large eggs, lightly beaten

Caramelization

1. Cut the tomatoes into pieces about 1 inch wide and ½ inch thick. If you are using cherry tomatoes, cut them in half. For a cool way to easily cut a bunch of tomatoes in half (courtesy of Chef Joshua Stokes on Grill A Chef), place some of the tomatoes on a plastic rimmed lid. Cover them with another lid of the same size, and then run a sharp knife between the lids. Repeat until all have been sliced. Taste a tomato — if it is very sweet, use ½ teaspoon sugar in Step 2; otherwise, use 1 teaspoon.

2. Place a wok over high heat, and when it is hot, swirl in 3 tablespoons of the oil and all of the salt. Fry the ginger and the whites of the onions until they are golden, and then add the sliced tomatoes. Lower the heat to medium-high and fry them, shaking and turning them over every 30 seconds or so. When the juice reduces to few tablespoons, sprinkle on the sugar and toss the tomatoes. Continue to cook them until you can smell the sugar and bits of caramel have formed on your spatula. Scrape the tomatoes out onto a plate.

The omelet setting up

3. Return the wok to medium-high heat and swirl in the rest of the oil. Stir the onion greens into the eggs and pour the eggs into the wok. Flip the eggs over as they solidify and brown until they have formed a golden omelet. Chop the omelet up with your spatula and then toss in the cooked tomatoes. Serve hot.

Tip

-      Cherry and plum tomatoes are my favorites for this since they keep their shape well.

Variation: Some people like to make a creamier dish, where the eggs turn custardy, rather than form large curds. To do this, keep the tomatoes in the wok at the end of Step 2 and stir the beaten eggs and onion greens into the tomatoes. Lightly toss these together until the eggs have cooked through.

At the intersection of East and West...

Up in China’s desert northwest, East mingles with West in delicious ways. Ideas seem to have taken root here centuries ago and then cross-pollinated to form fascinating hybrids that manage to showcase the best of both worlds.

This is one such dish.

Luxurious in every way, juicy bits of chicken contrast with crisp lotus root, chilies, and crunchy walnuts in a sauce seasoned mainly with sweet wheat paste (tianmianjiang). Rich and satisfying, with each of the ingredients managing to steal the show in tandem, stir-fries don’t come much better than this.

           

Walnuts are probably more popular up here than any place else in China, thanks to their introduction eons ago by traders from the Middle East. As always, though, what was once Persian or Arab has been transmogrified over the years into something distinctly Chinese. It’s that sweet wheat paste and the lotus root that tip the sensory balance into China’s sphere, ensuring you that you are not further west on the trans-Asiatic superhighway called the Silk Road.

Fresh chilies are traditionally used here, but dried ones are delicious too, as they then do not conflict with the lotus root. These dried chilies seem to sidle up especially well to the toasted walnuts, their gentle warmth echoed and amplified by these nutty flavors.

Now is the time to make this dish while fresh lotus roots are at their best in good Chinese markets.

Perfect cold weather dinner

Chicken with walnuts and lotus root

Jiàngbào táorén jīdīng 醬爆桃仁雞丁

Northwest
Serves 4 to 6

Chicken:

1 pound chicken, with or without skin, bones removed

½ teaspoon sea salt

2 tablespoons rice wine (Taiwanese Mijiu)

1 large egg white

1 teaspoon cornstarch

The rest:

4 ounces shelled walnuts in large pieces

Boiling filtered water as needed

1 lotus root (around 4 to 6 ounces)

1 teaspoon pale vinegar

1 to 3 red jalapeno chilies, or 10 or so whole dried Thai chilies

¼ cup peanut or vegetable oil

2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger

2 green onions, trimmed and chopped

2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 tablespoon sweet wheat paste

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

1. Cut up the chicken into ¾-inch cubes, place in a small work bowl, and toss with the salt, rice wine, egg white, and cornstarch. Allow the chicken to marinate while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Crunchy, chewy, sweet, savory

2. Pick over the walnuts to make sure there are no shells, and then place them in a small work bowl; cover them with boiling water and let them sit in there for at least 10 minutes to remove any bitterness. Drain the walnuts, rinse in a colander, and pat them dry. While the walnuts are soaking, peel the lotus root, wash it carefully inside and out, and drain. Cut the lotus root into ¾-inch cubes, place in a small work bowl, cover with water, and add the vinegar to keep the roots white. Seed the fresh chilies and coarsely chop them; or break the dried chilies in half, shake out the seeds, and cut the chilies into ¼-inch pieces.

3. Heat a wok over medium-high heat and then add the oil. Fry the walnuts in the oil, tossing the whole time, until they are toasted and smell wonderful; remove to a clean medium work bowl, but keep the oil in the wok. Fry the chilies until they are dark red, and then remove them to the work bowl with the walnuts. Drain the lotus root, rinse it under tap water, shake dry, and add them to the wok. Stir-fry the lotus root for a minute or so to barely cook them, and then remove to the work bowl. Add the chicken and marinade to the wok and stir-fry the chicken until it barely starts to brown, and then remove it to the work bowl. Drain any oil in the work bowl back into the wok.

4. Heat the wok over high heat and add the ginger, green onions, and garlic. Stir-fry these for a few seconds to release their fragrance, and then add the sweet wheat paste and about ¼ cup boiling filtered water. When the water comes to a boil again, add everything in the wok bowl back to the wok and quickly toss them over high heat until the water has evaporated. Sprinkle on the sesame oil, toss again, adjust the seasoning, and serve hot.

Top photo courtesy cqqx.cqnews.net

Silk Road fajitas

I absolutely adore this dish. 

Granted, being a California kid, I practically grew up on Mexican dishes, so fajitas are pure comfort food as far as I am concerned. And I have to admit that as much as I adore the Mexican way with steak and tortillas, this version from up in the Chinese Northwest inevitably blows me away.

There is so much in common between the two—flour tortillas, grilled steak, barely cooked vegetables, cilantro, cumin, garlic, and a dash of salt—that they seem like mirror images of each other. 

Brilliant ideas sometimes seem to travel across space and time in order to end up on the plates of grateful diners. I don’t understand what wormhole allowed this to happen, but there you are.

Go ahead, squeeze some lime in your beer. Just don’t sneak any guacamole onto your plate.

Silk Road fajitas

Báobĭng jiān níuròu  薄餅煎牛肉

Northwest
Serves 4

16 Chinese flour tortillas (either baobing or héyèbĭng 荷葉餅) or 16 smallish but really good Mexican tortillas

Beef:

12 ounces boneless beef steak of any kind

2 tablespoons rice wine (Mijiu)

½ teaspoon sea salt

½ teaspoon ground toasted cumin

½ teaspoon (more or less) finely ground chilies

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

Vegetables:

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 sweet red pepper, trimmed and cut into thin strips

3 green onions, trimmed and julienned

1 cup coarsely chopped cilantro

1. Prepare the wheat wrappers and grill as directed. Place them in a clean tea towel and fold it around them to retain the heat. When it comes time to eat, peel the wrappers apart into thin tortillas, if you wish, or leave them as is.

2. Slice off the fat and any gristle in the steak before cutting it against the grain into thin slices. Cut across these slices to form strips less than ¼-inch thick. Place the steak strips in a small work bowl and toss with the rice wine, salt, cumin, chilies, and oil. (The steak can also be prepared earlier in the day, covered, and refrigerated so it has extra time to marinate.)

3. About 10 minutes before serving, heat a seasoned cast-iron frying pan over high heat. Toss in the steak and all of the marinade. Sear the steak by allowing it to brown before flipping the strips over. When most of the pink has disappeared and the meat has a good brown sheen, add the garlic and red peppers. Toss these together over high. As soon as the peppers barely start to wilt, remove the pan from the heat, and then toss in the green onions and finally the cilantro. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve alongside the warm tortillas.

Gift of the Muslim Northwest: the best yogurt I ever tasted...

Yogurt is one of those defining foods of everywhere from Eastern Europe and on out to the nomadic people of China’s western lands. I've always been a big fan, and so I looked forward with particular anticipation to trying the local yogurt when we visited Xinjiang, as who makes better yogurt than nomadic people surrounded by cattle and sheep?

My opportunity came when we finally traveled parts of China’s Silk Road and our tour group went out for a dinner of roasted whole lamb in Xinjiang’s capital city of Ürümqi. My husband and I were vegetarians at the time, and so we started bugging the waiters for big bowls of yogurt as our very own protein course, and they happily complied.

This turned out to be the richest, most delicious yogurt we’d ever tasted, and it took me quite a while to figure out how to make it back home. For one thing, the yogurt starter was never quite right, either too acidic or too bland or just not nutty enough. And that is when I started looking at a map and began connecting the dots that led me to Bulgarian yogurt as one of the keys...

First off, you have to keep in mind that China’s Uyghurs are ethnically Turkic and speak a language that is related to Turkish. So there’s that. Now draw a long arc across Central Asia all the way up into Bulgaria in Eastern Europe. Why? Because the food there has been colored over the centuries by its massive neighbor on the right, Turkey.

They make an especially good yogurt in both places, and so it makes sense that whatever yogurt we enjoyed in Ürümqi (the name for Xinjiang’s capital even looks Turkish) would share the same yeasty mothers as that made by the folks who live on edge of the Black Sea.

Second, that yogurt we had was rich, almost like crème fraîche in texture and flavor. When I tried to replicate it, I found that whipping cream was too buttery and whole milk was too thin, so half-and-half was the logical next step. And there we had it, yogurt just like Xinjiang moms make.

Perfection!

Rich homemade yogurt 

Suānnăi 酸奶and yōugé 優格　

Xinjiang

Makes about 1 quart

1 quart half-and-half

½ cup Bulgarian style yogurt

1. Pour the half-and-half into a 2-quart heatproof container. Heat the liquid in the microwave on high for 90 seconds, to warm it. Stir the liquid and give it short bursts (15 seconds or so) of heat until the half-and-half reaches about 100°F; it should feel about body temperature when you hold the container against the inside of your wrist. Use a whisk to mix in the yogurt. When no lumps can be seen, cover the container with plastic wrap and place it in a warm area (see Tips).

2. Let the yogurt rest without stirring or moving for at least 8 hours. At that point it should be nicely coagulated and completely solid. Check by lightly shaking the container; if the yogurt does not move at all, it is done. If it is still liquid even in the center, leave it alone for another few hours.

Your ingredients

3. Taste the yogurt, and if you prefer it tarter, return the yogurt to that warm place for a few more hours to develop its flavor. When the yogurt is done to your liking, chill it still covered in its container. Use a ladle to scoop out the yogurt. It will stay fresh and tasty for around 5 days and can be used like any other yogurt, crème fraîche, or sour cream.

Tips

  

Use whatever Bulgarian style yogurt you prefer. I have come to like an organic brand called White Mountain that is available in health food stores.

Organic half-and-half is – to my mind, at least – tastier than supermarket brands. Under no conditions use “fat free half and half,” which is basically nothing more than nonfat milk and sugar.

The best environment for growing your own yogurt is somewhere that is out of the way, warm, and still. I always turn to my oven for this. The pilot light in a gas oven and the light in an electric oven should provide just the right temperature for fast growth of the yeast. If your oven is too hot, you can also wrap the warm bowl from Step 1 in a couple of thick towels and place it in a warm part of the house.