Bean curd with pine flower preserved eggs

As the year winds down and 2016 finally comes to an end, All Under Heaven continues to hang out with some really great books. I still can’t believe that this is happening, but here you go:

Epicurious has my book up there with goddesses like Dorie Greenspan, as well as friends like Jeffrey Yoskowitz. Each and every one of these books is now on my Must Have List. I can think of fewer honors that make me happier than sharing a shelf with these great food writers. Please buy their books!

Check out Munchies - it's always good

Munchies reproduced my Mapo Doufu recipe on its website. If you are wondering what to cook for dinner this week, look no further. I am so proud of this truly authentic and very flavorful rendition of a Chengdu classic.

Public Radio station WBUR just published “7 Recipes from Resident Chef Kathy Gunst’s Favorite Cookbooks of 2016.” It shortlists only four titles, but Chef Gunst goes on to note, “If you, or anyone on your list, love Chinese food, this is your book.... The charming illustrations were drawn by Phillips and even though there’s not a photograph in sight, her writing and very clearly written recipes will make you want to cook your way through China, and this book.”

I ask you, could you find better company to be in?

Eat Your Books is having a cookbook giveaway, and that book is All Under Heaven! This contest ends on January 12, so hurry on over, become a free member of Eat Your Books (it is SO worth it!), and join the fun.

And finally, the wonderful Marc Schermerhorn gives All Under Heaven two thumbs up on his blog, Baketard, where he posts my beloved recipe for Dry-Fried Chicken Wings and talks about cooking from the book with his friends, who gave the book super high points: 

Marc's wings

“Recently I invited a group of friends over to explore the book that in my opinion is THE cookbook of the year, Carolyn Phillips’ comprehensive tome on Chinese cookery, All Under Heaven: Recipes from the 35 Cuisines of China. I have a large cookbook library, and Chinese cookbooks, both from the US and around the world, are the second largest section in my collection -- second only to Italian. None of my books come close to covering the breadth of Chinese cuisine explored in Carolyn’s book. Not even close. This book blew us all away. We made 10-12 dishes together, and Every. Single. Dish. Was amazing. Every one! We always rate dishes between 1-10. Nothing was less than a 9. That never happens.” 

And then he says, "You want this book. Trust me. This is THE book of 2016, IMO." Thank you, Marc, for such a great Festivus present!

*  *  *

Today we have a classic East China appetizer – another incredibly simple yet dazzling combination from the Yangtze River area. 

Back in the early 1980's, the one place my husband and I could always count on to do this dish right was a wonderful mid-priced restaurant in downtown Taipei, Fùxīngyuán 復興園. We became such regular customers there that, as soon as we walked in the door, the cook would prepare this dish just the way I liked it — with an extra egg — and it would be set on our table only sec­onds after we’d been poured hot tea.

Snowflake patterns under the shell

Generally referred to as simply pidan doufu, or bean curd with preserved eggs, this dish relies on the quality of the ingredients, the perfect ratio of bean curd to egg, and the proper execution of the tangy sauce that tops it. The bean curd must be the soft, custardy type, and the preserved eggs should be of the pine flower (songhua) variety, meaning that crystalline patterns have formed under the shells.

Preserved eggs get a bad rap because of their appear­ance and the touristy names associated with them: “thousand-year-old egg” or “century egg” or even “mil­lennium egg.” The fact is, they’re not at all old, and they should be enjoyed while they are relatively fresh because they will dry out if left out for too long. When opened, the whites will have turned a clear, dark amber, and the yolks will be runny and grayish green but taste remarkably buttery.

A long-time favorite

I once was at lunch with a good American Chinese friend in Taipei. She had her young daughter in tow, and of course when the pidan were served, the daughter was horrified at having black eggs plunked in front of her. I grabbed a big wedge, stuck it in my face, and made all sorts of yummy sounds before saying, “Ooooh, Jello eggs...” She bought it, and proceeded to devour what remained on the plate.

And that, my friends, is marketing. Happy holidays!

Bean curd with pine flower preserved eggs

Sōnghuā pídàn dòufŭ 松花皮蛋豆腐

Hubei and Jiangxi

Serves 4 to 6

2 or 3 preserved eggs

1 block (14 ounces / 400 g) soft bean curd (see Tips)

2 tablespoons Sichuan pickled tuber

1 green onion, green parts only

2 tablespoons coarsely chopped cilantro

½ teaspoon sea salt

Get a good brand from Taiwan

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon pale rice vinegar

1 teaspoon black vinegar

¼ cup / 60 ml toasted sesame oil

1. Peel the eggs, rinse them gently to remove any tiny bits of shell, and slice them into thin wedges.

2. Bring a small saucepan half full of water to a boil and slip in the block of soft bean curd; bring the water to a boil again and then discard the water and carefully rinse the hot bean curd under cool tap water. Drain well and place on a cutting board. Cut the bean curd lengthwise in half and then cut it crosswise into thin pieces (⅛ to ¼ inch / 3 to 6 mm wide). Use your knife to gently lift up the fragile slices and fan them out on a rimmed serving plate. Arrange the sliced eggs on top.

Sichuan pickled tuber from my grocer's bin

3. Rinse the pickled tuber and chop it very finely. Thinly slice the onion greens. Scatter the pickled tuber, green onion, and cilantro over the top of the eggs. Boil the salt, sugar, vinegars, and sesame oil in a wok over high heat until they bubble furiously, but not so long that the sugar burns; taste this mix­ture and adjust as necessary, then drizzle it over the greens to wilt them. Serve slightly warm.

Tips

You can use either “soft” or “extra-soft” bean curd here. But keep in mind that although the extra-soft kind will taste very good, it might look messier, as it tends to fall apart easily.

The bean curd is quickly blanched in this recipe to gently firm it up (so that it’s easier to slice) and to remove any scent of the packaging.

My go-to brand

Use care when selecting the eggs and the bean curd. Get soft, organic, non-GMO bean curd (aka, doufu or tofu). The taste is so much better. And the eggs should preferably be from Taiwan, which tends to make good quality preserved eggs with tender whites and creamy centers. Poor quality ones will be rubbery on the outside and hard on the inside. 

Check to see that the packages says that "no lead" was used. Unleaded would - in a perfect world - refer only to gasoline. But unfortunately some unscrupulous manufacturers stoop to horrible practices in making their preserved eggs. Good ones do exist, though. This one in the photo with the yellow packaging has always served me well, and I usually find those "pine flowers" underneath the shell. 

Totally homey, totally amazing

The homey dishes of China – those things that people make day after day when they want to treat their families very well – really define comfort food to me. No one could (or should) eat high on the hog very often, and it’s always nice to sit down to something that offers simple pleasures.

One such dish is this. There really is not all that much to it, and it certainly does not demand much in terms of time or money, but I always look forward to diving into a hot bowl of Honeycomb Bean Curd Soup just the same.

First, I get my hands on some good bean curd. If you have a shop in the area that offers the really fresh, homemade stuff, go buy that. Otherwise, search out an organic brand. Trader Joe’s, surprisingly enough, has some great bean curd I’m always happy to eat right out of the box, it’s that good. Don’t get extra firm or soft doufu (i.e., tofu) here, as the texture just won’t work.

Surprisingly amazing

I tend to think about making this whenever I have some stock simmering away on the stove. We had a roast chicken the other day, so all the bones and skin were tossed into the pot with a bit of ginger and rice wine. You can use mushroom stock if you want to go meatless, or even plain water for a super down-to-earth meal. Not too many rules apply here, so use what you have.

One thing I would insist on are dried black mushrooms for flavor and texture and color, as well as that ginger and rice wine. I mean you can go all Spartan here, but really, what’s the point. Even the simplest meal should be a reason for celebration.

This is called “honeycomb” because the bean curd is simmered in a couple of changes of water, which rinses out any chemicals in there (like the coagulants - plaster or salt water), leaving behind only the soy proteins. The doufu changes its character quite a bit in the process, with bigger and bigger holes running through it as the bean curd tightens up. This turns the white squares into perfect sponges for all of those vibrant flavors – mushrooms, ginger, and rice wine – which is another reason why they are so important here.

Don’t confuse this, though, with frozen bean curd, as that is quite resilient in texture, very chewy, and so able to withstand being boiled and swished around in a hotpot. This, rather, is more meaty and subtle.

The honeycomb forming

In fact, the texture here is utterly amazing: the bean curd "blooms" when it simmers this long, giving it an otherworldly mouthfeel and ridding it of any extraneous flavors. What's left is really rapturous - in fact, if you are an adventurous eater, you will immediately be reminded of lambs' brains. (If you're a vegan, sorry about that.) But when you are a meatless diner, you are always on the lookout for some new twist you can make on doufu or gluten because you need to have more than a tad of protein in your diet. So, study this clever way of making something new out of the same-old same-old.

As the days turn cool, this is the sort of thing that ought to start gracing your table with delicious regularity.

Honeycomb bean curd soup

Fēngcháo dòufŭ  蜂巢豆腐

Anhui

Serves 4 to 6

Fresh regular bean curd

4 large dried black mushrooms

Water, as needed

Around 1 pound / 450 g regular bean curd, preferably organic and non-GMO

1 quart / 1 liter chicken or mushroom stock, or water

¼ cup / 60 ml Shaoxing rice wine

¼ cup / 15 g thinly sliced fresh ginger

2 green onions, whites only, kept whole

Mushroom powder or sea salt, to taste

Freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup / 40 g frozen baby peas (or baby fava beans or thinly shredded snow peas)

1 green onion, greens only, sliced thinly on the diagonal

1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

1. Start this the night before you want to serve it by rinsing the mushrooms, placing them in a bowl, and covering them by at least an inch with cool water. Let them plump up overnight. The next morning, strain the liquid into a 2-quart / 2-liter saucepan; rinse the mushrooms, remove the stems, and cut the caps on the diagonal into thin slices before adding them to the soaking liquid.

Simmer the bean curd three times

2. Drain the bean curd and cut it crosswise into ½ inch / 1 cm slices. (Or, you can cut it into as many pieces as there are diners so it's easy to serve - just don't make these less than ½ inch / 1 cm thick.) Place these in a second saucepan, cover with water, and bring the pan to a boil over high heat. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook the bean curd for around 15 minutes. Drain the bean curd, cover it again with water, and simmer it again for 15 minutes. Repeat this for a total of three times. Drain the bean curd carefully using a lid, since it becomes more and more tender as it cooks, and then gently transfer it to the saucepan with the mushrooms. You will see the holes in the bean curd increasing and enlarging as it cooks.

Honeycomb writ large

3. Add the stock or water to the saucepan with the rice wine, ginger, and whites of the green onions. Bring the liquid to a boil over high heat and add mushroom powder or salt to taste, as well as a couple grinds of black pepper. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pan, and simmer the bean curd over low heat for 20 to 30 minutes, or until the slices are speckled with even more pretty holes. Remove and discard the ginger and green onions. The soup can be prepared ahead of time up to this point and then reheated just before serving.

4. Add the peas and bring the stock to a boil again. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Pour the soup into a serving bowl or individual bowls, sprinkle on the green onions and sesame oil, and serve.  

The signature dish of Chef Peng

A relatively new dish in Hunan’s canon, Peng Family Bean Curd was almost an instant hit when it was created in Taiwan by Chef Péng Chángguì 彭長貴.

Chef Peng is a native of Hunan who at the age of 13 first studied under the Cantonese Tan family-style chef Cáo Gàichén 曹蓋臣 before heading north to the Yangtze River area, and then he fled to Taiwan at the end of the Chinese Civil War. Once he was an accomplished chef in his own right, he opened up his signature restaurant in Taipei, as well as a now-defunct branch in Manhattan called Peng Yuan on 44^th Street near the United Nations, where Henry Kissinger helped stimulate interest in both this restaurant and Hunan-style cooking.

Credited with developing some of the most famous dishes in the Hunan school, Chef Peng produced “General Tso’s chicken” ( Zuŏ Zōngtáng jī  左宗堂雞), its sweet-sour-spicy sauce entrancing Chinese diners at his Peng’s Agora Garden (Péngjiā huìguǎn 彭家會館) as much as his many other creations, such as “minced squab in bamboo cups” (zhújié gēzhōng 竹節鴿盅), which was always one of my favorites when I was able to dine there as the interpreter-in-tow for the National Museum of History.

Wick off the excess moisture

This was always a dining experience for me, as the museum’s director knew the menu like an old friend. Here we would have honeyed ham, smoked pork charcuterie with garlic stems, and flash fish soup, all of which never failed to elicit sighs of almost carnal pleasure in our foreign guests.

His signature bean curd dish, though, was more homey than fancy, and so it wouldn’t often make the cut at these banquets. But that did not stop my husband and me from enjoying it there later on, as well as our old haunt near the museum that was not as near as fancy—but almost as good—as the original cooking palace of Mr. Peng.

Peng family bean curd

Péngjiā dòufu  彭家豆腐

Hunan
Serves 4 to 6

1 square (about 14 ounces) firm, fresh, organic bean curd

2 to 3 ounces pork loin, shredded against the grain

1 tablespoon rice wine

Brown the bean curd

1 teaspoon cornstarch

1 tender leek or 2 green onions, trimmed

¼ cup peanut or vegetable oil (used okay if it smells fresh)

2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped

2 red jalapeno peppers, stemmed, seeded, and cut into thin shreds

2 tablespoons fermented black beans, rinsed and lightly chopped

½ cup hot filtered water

1 tablespoon regular soy sauce

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

1. Cut the bean curd square in half lengthwise and then again crosswise into ¼ inch cubes. Place them in a single layer on a clean tea towel, and pat the tops with the towel, too. Let them drain while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

2. Place the pork in a small work bowl and toss it with the rice wine and cornstarch. Cut the leek or green onions on the diagonal into ½-inch wide strips.

3. Heat a wok over medium-high heat, and when it starts to smoke, add the oil. Swirl the oil around in the wok and then lay half of the bean curd squares in a single layer on the hot wok. Cook the bean curd until it is a golden brown on one side, and then flip each slice over and cook the other side. Remove the bean curd to a plate and repeat with the other half of the bean curd. Pour out about half of the oil.

Marinate the meat first

3. Raise the heat under the wok to high. To the hot wok add the leeks or green onions and garlic, and stir-fry them for about 10 seconds to release their fragrance. Toss in the pork and all its marinade and quickly stir-fry them until the meat is no longer pink. Add the peppers and black beans, toss them quickly to heat them through, and then the hot water. Toss these all together and then scoot the vegetables up the side of the wok.

4. Arrange the browned bean curd slices in a single layer in the sauce, cover, reduce the heat to medium-low, and simmer them for about 5 minutes. Turn the slices over, drizzle the cornstarch mixture around the edge of the bean curd, and then gently toss everything together to mix until the sauce thickens. Toss in the sesame oil, toss one last time, and serve on a platter.

Tip 

Chicken can be used instead of pork or left out if you prefer this meatless; if no meat is used, stir the cornstarch into the wine and toss it into the sauce right before adding the bean curd in Step 4.

Bean curd fit for an emperor

This cooking method called guota (“to collapse in a wok”) is native to Shandong and describes ingredients like fish, meat, vegetables, and bean curd are layered up into small packets.

A charming idea such as this stood little chance of remaining a local secret, and although it most likely was created in the capital city of Jinan back during the Ming dynasty, it gradually made its way to Shanghai, Tianjin, and Beijing, where it appeared on the Qianlong emperor’s table in the mid-Qing dynasty.

A recipe that has been around as long as this one has will naturally have many variations. We have had this served to us in Muslim-style restaurants as a sort of omelet with slices of tofu suspended inside, for example, and these are a lot like dishes of comfort food.

To my mind, though, nothing can beat this version, which tastes like a touch of the great seaports of Shanghai or Tianjin thanks to the dried shrimp roe. 

Speckled with roe and scallions

Also, the bean curd slices are fried in simple yolk robes that turn crispy and light, but which are then simmered in stock and rice wine into luxurious pillows, making them look and taste like just the thing an emperor would want set before him.

Pan-fried bean curd

Guōtā dòufu  鍋塌豆腐

Shandong
Serves 4 to 6

1 block firm bean curd

½ teaspoon sea salt

1 cup (or so) peanut or vegetable oil

3 tablespoons regular flour

2 large egg yolks, lightly beaten with 2 teaspoons water

2 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil

2 teaspoons dried shrimp roe

2 green onions, trimmed

1 tablespoon finely minced fresh ginger

2 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine

½ cup chicken stock, salted or unsalted

Fresh firm bean curd

Sea salt to taste

4 leaves romaine or other crispy lettuce, optional

1. Cut the bean curd in half lengthwise and then cut it into 8 even slices, which will give you a total of 16 slices. Lay the slices flat on a dry tea towel and sprinkle them with the salt. Give the bean curd about 30 minutes (and up to 2 hours in a cool kitchen) to release most of its moisture. Pat the tops of the slices dry before you proceed.

2. Pour enough oil in a wide skillet to completely cover the bottom to a depth of about ¼ inch. Place the skillet on medium heat. While the oil is slowly heating up, pat the flour on all sides of the bean curd slices and then dip them completely in the egg yolks before gently laying them down in the hot oil so that they do not touch (you probably will have to do this in two batches); the oil should immediately bubble up around the slices and the egg batter should puff up without browning too quickly, so adjust the heat accordingly. When they are golden brown on the bottom, flip them over gently and let them brown on the other side. Remove them to a rimmed plate.

Fried & crispy

3. Pour all of the oil out of the skillet, wipe it clean with a paper towel, and add the fresh oil. Over medium heat, sprinkle in the shrimp roe and move it around in the oil until it starts to bubble and darken, at which point add the green onions and ginger. Stir these together for a few seconds to release their fragrance, and then pour in the rice wine and stock. As soon as the sauce boils, arrange the fried bean curd slices in the sauce, preferably in a single layer. Turn the slices over once.

4. While the bean curd is simmering in the sauce, clean and wipe the platter. If you are having company over for dinner, slice the lettuce in a thin chiffonade (very thin pieces) and place these on the platter; a home-style meal can omit the lettuce. As soon as the sauce has been almost completely absorbed, arrange the bean curd slices attractively on top of the lettuce. Scrape any sauce and aromatics on top of the slices and serve.

Tips

Of course, if you are vegetarian, just omit the shrimp roe and adjust the salt levels to compensate.