Beijing's chive box pastries

Breakfast is a big deal in China. Unlike the States, the first meal of the day is a lot more than eggs, bacon, bread, and cereal. In fact, it’s a terrific reason to get out of bed any day of the week. 

In most places I’ve visited in China, little stands do nothing but prepare breakfast specialties that are ready from the wee hours of the night until lunchtime. And boy, do they have some tasty things on the menu.

One of my favorites is this, little hand pies whose Chinese name literally means “chive boxes.” Garlic chives are indeed the main attraction, but this being China, a deliciously savory edge completes the flavor range, and so there’s baby dried shrimp for a gently funky, salty layer, some tiny bits of scrambled egg for a meaty feel, and cellophane noodles to lighten up the texture. 

I changed the traditional recipe up slightly by frying the baby shrimp - which are called "shrimp skins" (xiāpí 蝦皮) in Chinese - to broadcast their flavor throughout the filling while tamping down their tendency to turn a tad soggy. These turn into crispy bits that are barely noticed other than a suggestion of xianwei on the tongue.

<=  How-to video included

In spite of all that, what I love best about this recipe is the pastry. It is simply the best one I know of, as it is light, thin, and fries up into a crisp layer that shatters in your mouth. It is easy to master, too.

Here's a video I made that shows you how to make an easy yet pretty coiled edge on your pastries. (A heads-up for those of you who are reading this at work: there's music on the video, so turn down the sound before clicking on the link.) 

Serve these with Millet Porridge whenever you want to start out the day with a smile on your face. 

Chive box pastries

Jiǔcài hé 韭菜盒

Beijing

Makes 1 dozen

Filling:

1 small bundle cellophane noodles

Warm water, as needed

Mise en place

¼ cup fresh peanut or salad oil

¼ dried baby shrimp

4 large eggs, lightly beaten

8 ounces (or so) green garlic chives

½ to 1 teaspoon sea salt (see Tip)

½ teaspoon sugar

Freshly ground black pepper

Dough:

2 cups Chinese flour

2 tablespoons fresh peanut or salad oil

½ cup boiling water

1 tablespoon cool water

More flour, as needed

Oil for frying

Chili sauce for dipping, optional

1. An hour or two before you plan to serve these, soak the cellophane noodles in warm water until they are completely soft and silky. Drain them well and then chop the noodles into pieces ¼ inch long or smaller.

2. While the noodles are soaking, make the dough: place the flour and oil in a medium work bowl. Use chopsticks to stir in the hot water until large flakes are formed. Work in the cook water, adding more flour or cool water as necessary until it does not stick to your hands or the board. Knead the dough until it is soft and supple. Cover it with a damp tea towel or plastic wrap and let it rest for at least 20 minutes. Roll the dough into an even rope 12 inches long, and then cut it into 12 pieces. Toss these lightly with a bit of flour and let them rest again while you prepare the filling.

Fill the wrappers

3. Make the filling just before you are about to fill the pastries, as otherwise the chives will wilt from the salt. Place a wok or frying pan over medium heat, and add the oil once it is hot. Sprinkle the baby shrimp in the oil and gently fry them — adjusting the temperature as necessary — until they are a golden brown. Scrape them into a small work bowl and return as much of the oil to the wok as possible. Return the wok to the stove and fry the eggs until they are scrambled nicely. Chop the eggs up into small pieces with your spatula and add them to the shrimp. Trim, rinse, and pat the chives very dry. Cut the chives into pieces ¼ long or smaller (you should have around 3½ cups) and add them to the shrimp and eggs. Season with the salt, sugar, and pepper. Divide the filling into 12 portions.

4. Roll each piece of dough into a 5-inch circle, and keep the dough covered whenever you are not using it. Wet your finger with water and draw a circle around the edge, which will help seal the dough. Fill the pastries by placing one portion of the filling in the center of the dough — be sure not to get any oil on the edge, as this will prevent the dough from sealing well. Pinch the pastry into a half-moon shape, and then curl the edge with a decorative braid, if you wish. These pastries should be immediately fried or frozen. (Frozen pastries can be fried later without being defrosted first.)

Half moon

5. To fry the pastries, set a flat frying pan over medium heat. Film the pan with oil once it is hot and add only as many pastries as will fit without touching each other. Cover the pan and let them slowly fry on one side until golden on the bottom, and then uncover the pan and flip them over. Cover and fry them on the other side. When the second side is a light gold, uncover the pan and fry them until crispy. Serve immediately with a side of chili sauce, if you like.

Tip

Use 1 teaspoon of salt if you are going to eat these fresh. Freezing the pastries heightens their saltiness for some reason, so it you want to make these ahead of time, use half that amount of salt. If you are eating half and freezing the rest, then use the smaller amount and dust the pastries with a sprinkling of salt as soon as they have been fried.

Beijing's savory cabbage and shrimp dish

Most evenings when we got off of work in Taipei, I would be way too tired to cook. Fortunately for us, the little mom-and-pop restaurants that dotted the city offered an amazing variety of foods from all over China. One of our favorites was a little place that served up northern-style dishes.

            

The dad there was from Shandong, and so jiaozi were always on the menu. But for dinner we usually wanted something more substantial, and we therefore would order one of the set meals. 

These were called 客飯 kèfàn, and this way we could pick and choose two or three entrees from a short list of cheap and good favorites. They would be served up with small bowls of the house soup, as well as some white rice. At the time, this would usually set us back about four dollars, which made eating out even more of a pleasure.

           

An inspired combination

 On the permanent column of that list was this simple dish, and it is one that we returned to again and again. It is little more than shredded napa cabbage flavored with chopped dried shrimps and some aromatics. 

I know, this does not sound at all exciting, but something marvelous happens when this gang of seasonings gets together, as it turns a boring pile of cabbage into a sensuous delight.

Napa cabbage with dried shrimp

Kāiyáng báicài 開洋白菜 

Beijing
Serves 4 to 6

2 tablespoons dried shrimp

Boiling filtered water

1 head napa cabbage (about 2 pounds)

4 green onions, trimmed and finely chopped

4 teaspoons finely minced fresh ginger

6 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil

1 tablespoon regular soy sauce

1 tablespoon vinegar

1. Place the shrimps in a small, heatproof bowl and cover them with boiling water. Let them soak there until the water has cooled off. Strain the water into a small cup, and then clean the shrimps individually, removing any sandy veins or foreign matter. Chop them finely.

2. Rinse the cabbage, shake it dry, and cut it lengthwise in half. Finely shred the white bottom half of the leaves across the grain and discard the core. Then, shred the greener leaves; keep these two piles separate.

 

Kaiyang baicai

3. Heat a wok over high heat and add the oil when the wok begins to smoke. Toss in the chopped shrimp, green onions, and ginger. Fry these for about a minute until they are just beginning to brown, and then add the white parts of the cabbage leaves to the wok. Stir-fry the cabbage over high heat until it just begins to brown on the edges, and then scoot everything up the side of the wok. Add the greener parts of the leaves and toss these over high heat until they begin to wilt. Finally, mix everything together and pour the soy sauce and vinegar over the vegetables. Toss until the seasonings are well distributed. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve hot.

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.