Dry fried flounder

This is one dish that is so appealing and unusual that it could be an instant classic once word gets around.

I'm talking about whole Dry Fried Flounder, a direct translation of the most common Chinese name for this dish, ganjian longli, although once in a while you find it called xiangjian longli (fragrant fried flounder). It's another one of those dish names that obviously wasn't thought up by a poet or a PR man. Straight to the point. And that makes this recipe even more of a pleasant secret.

I've ordered this dish for years, and some restaurants turn out spectacular versions, others not so great. So I figured, what could be so hard about this? Why not make it myself? Easier said than done. Even Chinese-language cookbooks and online resources were less than any help. The most that anyone could offer in the way of advice was Dry Fried Flounder Fillets, which is really missing the point.

Secrets finally revealed!

Why do you need the whole fish? Simple: you want to enjoy the tiny bones that form the fringe of fins on a flatfish. When fried correctly, they turn into crunchy needles that are every bit as lovely as the meat. In fact, you will find that they are what everyone fights over. They're like tiny potato chips and offer a fantastically tactile experience.

It's taken me quite a while to figure out even where this dish originated, too. This is enjoyed throughout Taiwan, and for that reason a large number of Chinese restaurants here that are run by Taiwanese will offer Dry Fried Flounder on or off the menu. 

But this definitely doesn't taste like Taiwanese food. As best as I've been able to ferret out, it most likely came from Fujian, or even Chaozhou, that seafood-loving area just over the border from Fujian on Guangdong's coast.

The crunchy frill

Be that as it may, what really is important is how to make this. I have tried frying it with a cornstarch coating, a light batter, and so forth, but they were all dismal failures. That meant repeated visits to my favorite restaurants as I tried to break the Flounder Code. (Not that I'm complaining.)

Finally I realized that there was absolutely nothing on the fish. The Chinese name suggested that by calling it "dry," and it took a while to figure out that that was what was meant. The second word, "fried," actually means "pan fried," but whenever I pan-fried the fish, I ended up with a soggy mess, so this name really was throwing me for a loop.

And then it hit me: this needed super high heat, lots of hot oil, and deep frying. Once I did that, the problem was solved. 

Whole flounder freshly gutted

Almost.

There were a couple of minor explosions as the fish hit the oil, with flaming hot fountains of oil flying around. Very dramatic. So this is what I did: after salting and marinating it, the fish was wiped super dry, and even the cavity and the inside of the head were made as dry as could be. This kept the sputtering down and also allowed the heat of the oil to stay high, so the fish fried very quickly and the frills crisped up like a dream.

Cooking this yourself has all sorts of advantages. The first is, of course, that you can use the freshest fish available. Second, your oil will be fresh, too, and that is so important, not just taste wise but health wise. And finally, flatfish are generally so cheap that you'll laugh at the restaurant prices from now on.

So here it is, my beloved personal recipe for one of the great Chinese recipes that no one talks about. Serve it with rice and a vegetable; that's all you need.

Dry fried flounder 
Ganjian longli 乾煎龍利  
Chaozhou
Serves 4 to 6 as part of a multicourse meal, or 2 to 3 as a main entree

Scrape off the scales

1 whole flounder or other flatfish, about 1 pound (see Tips)
2 teaspoons sea salt
2 teaspoons Shaoxing rice wine
6 cups (or more) frying oil (see Tips)
2 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil
3 green onions, trimmed
3 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine
3 tablespoons filtered water or stock
2 teaspoons regular soy sauce, or to taste
½ teaspoon sugar

1. Gut the fish by cutting under the chin and removing the small pouch of organs; scrape out any black skin in there, as this is often very bitter. Remove the gills, too, which look like pink eyelashes. Scale the fish by scraping a knife from tail to head on both sides of the fish; when you are done and all the scales have been washed off, the fish should look pink rather than gray. 

Scaled pink fish

2. Pat the fish dry with a paper towel or two and lay it on a cutting board. Use your knife to cut diagonal slashes a little more than an inch apart, from about a 10:00 position down to a 4:00 position; these should go all the way down to (but not through) the bones, and cover the entire width of the fish body, but do not cut into the frills around the edge. Flip the fish over and do the same thing. (Make sure that the cuts use the same angle on both sides so that when you hold the fish up to the light, you can see XXX marks down its body. This keeps the fish from falling apart as you fry it, while allowing the meat to cook very quickly.)

3. Lay the fish on a platter and rub the salt into both sides. Sprinkle it with the 2 teaspoons rice wine, and let it marinate for 10 to 20 minutes. At the end of this time, drain off all of the marinade and pat the fish very, very dry. Wipe out even the inside of the head and cavity so that there are no drops of water to explode in the hot oil. Then. lay the fish on a dry paper towel while you prepare everything else.

4. Pour enough frying oil into your wok so that it is at least 1½ inches deep; this will ensure that there is enough hot oil to rapidly fry the fish and make it both crispy and succulent. Heat the oil over high until it starts to smoke. While you are waiting, prepare a serving platter, and have a pair of cooking chopsticks, a wok spatula, and either a spatter screen or a large lid ready. Also, make the sauce in the next step so that it is ready when the fish is.

Slash the flesh to the bone

5. Prepare the sauce in a small pan by heating the remaining 2 tablespoons oil over high heat until it is sizzling, and then adding the green onions. Stir them quickly over the high heat to release their fragrance, and then add the rest of the rice wine, water or stock, soy sauce, and sugar. Bring the sauce to a boil, taste, and adjust the seasoning. Turn off the heat under the sauce.

6. While the oil is heating up, clear the kitchen of children and pets and anyone who will get in your way. 


7. Holding the fish by the tail in one hand and either the spatter screen or the lid in your other, slide the fish into the hot oil and immediately cover the wok with the screen or lid, as the water in the flesh will start to explode. This will die down fast, and if you can, keep your grip on the tail so that you slide the fish around so that all of it gets a chance to brown. There is no need to flip the fish over if you have enough hot oil; just use your spatula to lightly press down on the fish and scoot it around. When the fish has fried for about 5 minutes, slide the tail end in so that all of the tail fin gets fried, too; this is a very thin part of the fish, so it will fry up fast. 

Deep fry the whole fish

8. Depending upon your fish, the heat of your stove, and the depth of the oil, the fish will be ready in about 7 to 10 minutes. It should be a golden brown all over, the fins and frills will be browned and crispy, and the meat will have pulled away from the bones where you slashed the flesh (see the top photo). Place your platter next to the wok. Use your spatula to scoop down under the fish body and your chopsticks to steady the tail end to lift up the fish, drain off the oil, and place it carefully on your platter. If you feel uneasy about this, use two spatulas, or even ask someone to help. (Turn off the heat and push the wok to the back of the stove out of harm's way and let the oil cool completely.)

9. Bring the sauce to a quick boil and pour it over the fish. Serve immediately.


Tips

NOTE: SERVE THIS ONLY TO PEOPLE WHO UNDERSTAND THAT THE BONES ARE NOT TO BE EATEN, ONLY THE FINS AND FRILLS. The bones inside the flesh will be hard and are inedible. Do not serve this to people who are unclear on this point, and this includes children, as they could choke on the hard bones.

Use whatever local flatfish you have that is sustainable and tasty. This link gives some  good suggestions.

Do not use a fish that is much larger than a pound here unless you have a restaurant-sized wok. The ratio of fish to hot oil is important, and if the fish is either too thick or too long, it won't cook fast enough and will crumble.

Pour the sauce over the fish

Be sure to use a large amount of oil here. This is crucial to achieving the correct balance of crisp edges and succulent meat before the skeleton cooks too and the fish dissolves into a sodden mess.

Salting the fish helps draw out more of the moisture, since water in hot oil explodes. Also, it lowers the temperature of the oil, and the drier the fish, the faster it cooks. 

When drying the fish, don't skimp on the paper towels.

The oil can be reused, since flounder and other flatfish are very mild flavored. Just strain the cooled oil and store it in a cool, dark place, like the fridge. Toss it whenever it starts to darken or have a strong aroma.

Once you master this dish, make it your own. Season it with other aromatics, or even change the sauce. It's up to you.

Eight treasure spicy jumble

Wuxi is known for its rich foods, tastes that double up and fold back on each other until they coalesce into a whole. And that is as it should be, for as it is located in the lush reaches of the Yangtze River in the eastern province of Jiangsu. With a world of ingredients to choose from, located as it is between river and sea, mountains and farmlands, Wuxi must be the kind of place that foodies think of when asked to consider heaven. 

Even the locale is exotic: the city is cut in half by Lake Tai, and the Grand Canal that links Beijing with the south runs through Wuxi. An ancient settlement that is probably thousands of years old, it has developed a culture and a sensibility that reaches out and beckons to all who hunger for something more.

Pressed bean curd

And part of that hunger, of course, centers on its foods. The most famous dish here is the obsession-worthy Wuxi Spareribs, which turns ribs from barbecue fare into something eligible for the most refined banquet. Other local pork dishes rate up there with the spareribs as the stuff of dreams, and even the Wuxi way with steamed gluten makes this vegan ingredient something that carnivores learn to covet.

There is one dish, though, that is a devious balance of textures, flavors, and colors, a concoction that the locals call "eight treasure spicy sauce" (babao lajiang). I've exchanged the "sauce" for "jumble" here, since this isn't really a sauce at all. Instead, it's a choreographed layering of different meats, vegetables, and ideas.

If you are a vegetarian, though, you can still make this dish; just substitute some of the meatless suggestions for the flesh. And if you are more adventurous than most -- and have access to some good Chinese butchers -- you can be highly traditional and incorporate duck gizzards and pork tripe, which are not there for their flavors, but to satisfy that incessant Chinese desire for interesting texture.

Whatever way you prepare this, it will be tasty. Just remember to substitute equivalent things, such as matsutake mushrooms for the chicken. That way the balance remains unchanged. And you are certainly should not feel constrained by the number "eight." Add or deduct to fit your tastes, and view the amounts of the ingredients here as merely a template. I have had some meatless versions that were quite good, and which used fried salted peanuts to add a savory note and some fresh chilies to spark up the flavors, while braised gluten rounded out the meaty textures.

Flash-fried shrimp

But what I've settled on here is very much in keeping with the way it is made in Wuxi, and the traditional grace note on this dish is what I think makes this sublime: some flash-fried shrimp. This works on so many levels that it is truly impressive: the light pink adds some necessary color, the gently sweet shellfish contrast beautifully with the dark seasonings, and they are so fresh that they spark all sorts of exciting notes on the palate.

When you prepare this dish, try to keep everything in about the same size, which are cubes about half an inch all around. The only exception would be the Chinese ham, which is very salty and hard, and so needs to be cut into tiny bits so that they can wend their way into each bite.

Two kinds of sauces are used here: bean paste and hot bean paste. The bean paste -- doubanjiang -- is a very savory condiment that is in many ways like miso. It is fermented and full of those xianwei or umami flavors that boost the taste of whatever they touch, and the soybeans in the mix add a nice bit of texture.

It is often confused with the other sauce, because their names are so similar. However, hot bean sauce -- la doubanjiang -- is mainly about chilies. It too is quite salty, but the heat it generates is the overriding characteristic. Add both of these to your dish in increments, as they can easily overpower whatever it is you are cooking, but if added in just the right amount, they tease the taste buds and satisfy all sorts of hungers.

Ingredients

Eight treasure spicy jumble  
Babao lajiang 八寶辣醬
Jiangsu
Serves 4 to 6 as part of a multicourse meal

2 tablespoons Chinese ham, skin removed
1 cup fresh or frozen bamboo shoots, defrosted
2 large fresh Chinese mushrooms, stemmed
2 squares pressed, marinated bean curd (lu doufu gan, see second picture and Tips)
1 cup cooked chicken
1 cup frozen green soybeans (edamame), defrosted (see Tips)
2 tablespoons dried shrimp (see Tips)
Boiling water as needed
4 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
1 to 2 teaspoons bean sauce (doubanjiang, see Tips)
1 to 2 teaspoons hot bean sauce (la doubanjiang, see Tips)
3 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine
1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil
Sprinkle of sea salt
1 cup shelled and cleaned shrimp (rock shrimp particularly good here), cut into half-inch pieces and drained (see Tips)

Hot sauce in spoon and not hot in jar

1. First prep some of the ingredients. If the ham is very hard, steam it for about 10 minutes, and then chop it finely (into pieces that are about an eighth of an inch). Cut the following into half-inch dice: bamboo, mushrooms, pressed bean curd, and chicken, and place them in a bowl along with the green soybeans. Place the dried shrimp in a small bowl and pour boiling water over them; after about 10 minutes, drain and chop them coarsely. 

2. Heat the 4 tablespoons oil in a wok over high and add the ham. Quickly stir-fry the ham for a few minutes to cook it through, and then add the bowl of bamboo, mushrooms, pressed bean curd, chicken, and green soybeans. Stir-fry these over high heat until the bamboo is cooked but still crisp. Add the bean sauces to taste, as well as the rice wine and sugar, and toss to mix well. Taste and adjust the seasoning. (This dish can be prepared ahead of time up to this point.)

3. A few minutes before serving, reheat the jumble if necessary. Then, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons oil over high heat and add just a small sprinkle of salt. When the oil starts to smoke, add the shrimp and flash-fry them over the highest heat until they are pink and barely done. Pour them over the jumble and serve, with a soup spoon tucked into the dish so everyone can help themselves.

Tips

Pressed bean curd is called doufu gan 豆腐乾, or "dried bean curd." This is merely bean curd that has had most of its moisture pressed out. It is an ivory white and is sold in vacuum packs in the refrigerated section of Chinese grocery stores. Lu doufu gan 滷豆腐乾 is marinated; instead of white, the skin of these squares is brown, and they have a light soy sauce flavor. Whichever kind you buy, keep the unused squares in the package and enjoy them within a few days of opening the package.

Fresh, green soybeans are available almost exclusively in the frozen foods section. Try to locate ones that are organic, as so many soybeans are genetically modified, or GMO. Also, look inside the clear window on the package to make sure that the beans look fresh and are not either dessicated or embalmed in frost.

I like to get my dried shrimp from Taiwanese producers or at Chinese herbal shops and dry goods stores. Look for shrimp that are whole, rather than crumbly, and you don't want any that are bright orange; natural dried shrimp are a gentle peach color. One thing nice about buying them at an herbal or dry goods store is that you can smell and even squeeze them if the shopkeeper is feeling generous. They should smell sweet and slightly fishy, and the best ones have a suppleness that allows you to bend them, which means they are fresh. Store them in a closed jar or resealable bag in the fridge, and they will keep for many months.

Hot bean sauce (or paste) is a specialty of Sichuan, so I try to find jars from Pixian 郫縣 (also written 郫县), the place where the best of these sauces are made. Lots of imitators are out there now, so search around for a brand of la doubanjiang 辣豆瓣醬 that you like. One I often buy is in a half-circle shaped jar (on the left in the Ingredients photo) made by Qiao Niang Fang in Sichuan.

For regular bean sauce, or doubanjiang 豆瓣醬, try some of the Taiwan products, like Master brand, which also makes other good Chinese sauces. This one is has the title "fermented bean sauce," a red lid, and yellow beans on the label (on the right in that Ingredients photo).

Wild-caught shrimp are infinitely better than farmed, since much of the farming is done in underdeveloped areas with questionable levels of cleanliness. Remember, shrimp are bottom dwellers and eat decaying things, so if your shrimp are coming from a densely populated area, you can imagine what they are dining on. Frozen shrimp are often quite good. Just defrost them and make sure that the sandy intestine along their back in removed, as well as any shells or legs.

Ginger milk pudding

Milk and China don't seem like an obvious pair. In fact, many of my Chinese friends are so lactose intolerant that they can't even enjoy ice cream. But there is one place in southern China -- one village, to be exact -- where milk is turned into the most amazing dishes. And what's more, these turn out to be impeccably Chinese.

Located south of the capital city of Guangzhou in Guangdong province, the Shunde district boasts one of the most famous schools of Cantonese cooking. Shunde is nestled in the Pearl River delta, a land of inventive fish, chicken, and pork dishes. Freshness is most likely the defining characteristic of the local foods, and so classic creations like White Cut Chicken (baiqie ji, the bird gently poached and served with simple but pungent dipping sauces) and simple steamed seafood draped with aromatics are what first come to my mind when I think of Shunde.

Bamboo teeth

But there is a small place there called Daliang where cow's milk has taken hold of the imagination and is turned into sweet and savory creations that baffle the mind and delight the palate.  

Stir-fried Milk (chao xian nai), which combines fresh milk and egg whites to form a light custard, results in a pure white pillow that cossets bits of fresh shrimp, chicken, crab, or whatever the chef takes particular pleasure in that day. It is one of the most comforting foods imaginable, sort of like nursery food for a baby emperor, but also so terribly sophisticated that I could see someone like the Duchess of Windsor devouring it with glee.

Ginger fibers left behind

As can be imagined, milk is also given a sweet turn in a number of the local specialties, like Deep Fried Milk (zha niunai); here, the milk is thickened with cornstarch and flour, and the resulting batter is cooled, cut, and fried, so that the crunchy outside contrasts with a molten interior. A light sugar dusting completes the dish.

Another is Double Skinned Milk (shuangpi nai), which is a true custard of sorts that celebrates the skin which forms on boiled milk as it cools. Like I said, these really are impeccably Chinese, and so things that Westerners care little about -- like the skin of milk or the skin of fish -- are often treasured mainly for their texture in Chinese cuisine.

Squeeze out the juice

Today we're going to enjoy a purely magical dish called Ginger Milk Pudding (jiangzhi zhuang nai, literally "ginger juice bumping milk"). You have to try this if for no other reason than to prove to yourself that fresh ginger juice really causes hot milk to gel up into a perfectly soft and creamy pudding.

Fresh ginger juice is a snap to make. All you need is a coarse grater and a fine sieve. I adore my bamboo ginger grater, which you can find in some Chinese hardware stores, but any good grater will do. If you do get your hands on a bamboo grater, beware of its sharp teeth, which do an admirable job of separating the stringy fibers in the ginger from its fleshy pulp, as well as the flesh from your knuckles.

With agave nectar

Some Chinese recipe books will tell you to wrap the grated ginger in muslin and squeeze out the juice. I've always found that too much bother. I just scoop the ginger into one hand and squeeze it dry over a fine strainer placed inside of a small measuring cup, and keep grating and squeezing until I have the amount needed. A juicer could be used, too, but that would call for cleaning the machine, and I think that's too much bother, too. Hence the grater and the sieve.

Traditionally, sugar is used in this pudding, but agave nectar provides an additional subtle layer to this dish, and I have taken the liberty of drizzling a little more on top to add a final punctuation to the silky surface. A tiny pinch of salt is also something I like here; it's virtually undetectable, but adds a slight balance to the sweetness.

Use the absolutely best full cream milk you can find. If it is at all possible, get something local and impossibly fresh. Like all dishes where one ingredient is the star, use the finest quality you can because there's no place for that ingredient to hide.

This is served warm according to traditional recipes, but chilled is to my mind beyond delicious. The pudding takes on a firmer texture in the fridge and becomes even silkier. It's startlingly good this way.

Whenever you're having children over, make sure to have them help you with this because it really is kitchen magic.

Ingredients

Ginger milk pudding 
Jiangzhi zhuang nai 薑汁撞奶  
Guangdong
Makes 4 servings

1 large finger of fresh ginger, either young or brown-skinned (see Tips)
Large pinch of sea salt
4 tablespoons agave nectar, plus more for the topping, or sugar to taste (see Tips)
2 cups fresh, organic, full fat milk

1. Grate the ginger. Squeeze the pulp over a fine grater placed on top of a small measuring cup until you have 4 tablespoons of ginger juice. Set out 4 dessert bowls with little more than half a cup capacity. Stir the juice and pour a tablespoon into each bowl (see Tips).

2. Add a small pinch of salt to each bowl, as well as a tablespoon of the agave nectar, or a teaspoon or more of sugar.

Yogurt-y texture

3. Heat the milk in the microwave or on the stove until it almost boils, and then pour half a cup of the hot milk into each of the bowls. Don't stir the milk, as it will mix with the ginger juice and sweeteners as it pours into the bowl. Let the bowls set up, which only takes a minute, and don't stir or disturb them. Serve the puddings either warm or cold with a swirl of agave nectar on top, if desired.


Tips


Try to select the plumpest, heaviest "hands" of ginger you can find, as these have the most juice. Hawai'ian ginger is good and often is organic.

Younger ginger will have a very mild heat, and older ginger will of course be hotter. Both are good, so use what is available and what you like.

Ginger juice portioned out

Grate the unpeeled ginger over a small saucer to collect all of the juice and pulp. 

Please use full fat milk that is the best you can find, as you'll taste the difference. I am extremely fond of Straus Family cream top milk, which comes from California's northern coast.

Honey is tasty here, but it doesn't dissolve fast enough when the hot milk hits to blend into the pudding. Also, if you pour it on top of the cold or cool pudding, it seizes up into a sticky clump. Agave nectar behaves well.

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.

The Portuguese chicken of Macau

I never heard much about Macau before I went there. 

Back in the mid-70's, when I first went to check it out during a short Hong Kong vacation, this little city was still very much a colonial backwater, one of the last bastions of Portugal's far flung empire. All I'd ever heard about the place was that it was where you went for gambling, spies, and all sorts of nefarious goings-on.

What hadn't reached my ears yet was news about the local chicken dish, a bubbling casserole of curry, coconut milk, and potatoes that has never left my brain since the first mouthful.

What happened was, I had been dropped off at an itty bitty restaurant while my guide went off to care of some business. Knowing how much I like to eat, this was a responsible and rather inspired decision. The only thing I remember hearing as I was pushed in the door was, "Order the Portuguese chicken." And then the car roared off and I was left to my own devices.

Toss the chicken with cornstarch

It was a little shack with an elderly Eurasian gentleman mopping down the bar. He gave me a welcoming smile, and so I sauntered in and said with casual authority, "The Portuguese chicken, please."

A short while later, the same gent emerged from the back and placed a bubbling casserole in front of me along with a bowl of rice. And life has never been the same. The rest of Macau suddenly lost most of its allure, as far as I was concerned, because if there was one thing for a person like me to do in this little outpost of sin and espionage, it was to order the local dish, devour it with utter pleasure, take a walk around to look at the crumbling Portuguese architecture, and then head back for another round of chicken.

That's my idea of a perfect Macau vacation.

Fry until golden

At first I was a bit confused as to why it was called "Portuguese chicken," but years later as I figured out that this recipe must have arrived on China's southern coast via Goa, Portugal's colony on the Indian coast, and maybe even picked up a few ideas in another colony called East Timor, which lies next to Indonesia. And then this dish made complete sense.

I've played around with this a bit, using Japanese curry cubes instead of curry powder because it gives a controllable flavor. Curry powders vary in intensity and ingredients to such an extent that I wanted to make this something that it could be easily replicated. The cubes also add just the right amount of salt and thickeners, so I'm sold on this. Of course, feel free to use curry powder or canned curry paste, if that is something you prefer, but be sure to adjust the seasoning and the thickeners, too.

My secret ingredients

What you will end up here is a truly subtle sauce. When I first ate it at that little shack, I wasn't sure at all what the flavors were, and most likely your guests won't, either. That's because it's a really low level of spice here that just sort of hums in the background. The color is more like Dijon than ballpark mustard, a visual slight of hand that tends to trip people up. And the coconut milk is not assertive, either, pretending to be a cream sauce more than anything else.

The ingredients can be played around with, too. Some people like tomatoes and raisins and carrots in this. Others like shredded coconut or even Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top. I don't, but that's a personal choice. I also prefer boneless chicken in here, some potatoes and onions, and that's pretty much it.

You can almost see from this that I'm searching for gentle textures and smooth flavors with nothing sharp or sweet to wake me out of my reverie.

Hush. I'm eating.

Portuguese chicken 
Puguo ji 葡國雞 
Macau

Serves 6 to 8 as part of a multicourse meal, or 4 as a main course

Half a chicken, or two half breasts

2 tablespoons (or so) cornstarch

½ onion, peeled

2 small or 1 large potato (Yukon golds are great)

3 tablespoon peanut or vegetable oil, divided

2 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine

2 cups filtered water

2 squares Japanese curry paste (see Tips)

13.5 ounce can good coconut milk (see Tips)

1. Rinse the chicken and pat dry with a paper towel. Cut up the chicken into 1-inch or so pieces. (You can do this with the bones and skin or without; up to you.) Toss the chicken with the cornstarch so that each piece is fully coated. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a wok over high heat and add the chicken; stir-fry the chicken until browned, and then remove to a work bowl.

Add coconut milk

2. Cut the onion into 1-inch cubes and then separate it into the single layers. Peel the potatoes, cut them into 1-inch cubes, and if you want the dish to be ready faster, either microwave or boil the potatoes until soft. Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil in a wok over high heat and add the onion pieces. Stir-fry them for a few minutes, and once they are soft, add the rice wine, stir quickly to evaporate the alcohol, and then add the water. Toss in the curry cubes and bring the sauce to a boil. Add the potatoes -- either cooked or raw -- and bring the sauce to a boil again. Reduce the heat to low and cook the potatoes until they are tender and have absolutely no rawness in them. Add the whole can of coconut milk plus the fried chicken. Bring the sauce to a boil, taste, and adjust seasoning, if necessary. (The dish can be made ahead of time and refrigerated.)

The velvety sauce

3. About 15 minutes before you want to serve this, heat your oven broiler to high and place the rack about 4 inches below the heat. Have a 10-inch round casserole that is around 2 inches deep ready. Bring the Portuguese chicken to a boil (in the wok or a saucepan), and then pour it into the casserole. Place the casserole under the broiler and brown the Portuguese chicken; it is ready when it has lovely leopard spots all over it. Serve piping hot with a vegetable and either some rice or baguettes.

Tips

I like the brand called Golden Curry, which comes in various degrees of heat, and prefer the one marked "medium hot," which has green on the box. This is great for making all sorts of curry dishes, including things like winter squash soup; just throw a cube into the soup, puree it, and enjoy.

Full cream coconut milk is best here, as it is that richness that makes this dish so luscious. Chaokoh brand from Thailand is the best.