These lion heads make me roar (sorry)

An iconic dish of the entire Jiangsu area, each town seems to have its own take on how to season and present these giant, juicy meatballs. Some places like Yangzhou steam the meatballs in individual jars and season them gently, while others add crabmeat to the pork, or toss chicken feet into the stock for extra richness, and so on. It’s really hard to go wrong with these, though, so if you love them as much as I do, play around with the recipe once you get the hang of it, adding whatever makes you happy.

I did just that here. Fried green onions add a lovely toasty layer to the dish and excellent depth to the sauce, turning into black strips that melt on the tongue. I like bok choy as the starring vegetable, too, rather than the usual napa cabbage, as it remains assertively green and slightly tannic against all of those savory notes.

Mung bean sheets

And finally, the mung bean sheets are a personal touch. Instead of cellophane noodles, which admittedly are always good here, I prefer the silky touch of the fenpi: These have a delightful texture of silk crossed with gummi bears, plus they soak up all of the flavors around them. I’m hooked.

This may look like a long recipe, but actually it’s quite simple. It is broken down into steps that can be done at a leisurely pace. A food processor makes the pork a snap to whip up. The only real hands-on work consists of frying the meatballs, but even that can be done while you attend to other things. Let's hear it for technology.

Red-cooked lion heads

Hóngshāo shīzitóu 紅燒獅子頭

Shanghai

Serves 3

Seasoned water

Seasoned water:

¼ cup chopped green onions

2 tablespoons chopped ginger

¼ cup water

Fried green onions:

1 bunch green onions, trimmed

½ cup peanut or vegetable oil

Fried green onions

Meatballs:

12 ounces (or so) good quality ground pork (see Tips)

1 large egg

1 tablespoon Shaoxing rice wine

1½ teaspoons regular soy sauce

¼ teaspoon sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1½ teaspoons cornstarch

Frying up the lion heads

Sauce:

¼ cup green onion mingyou (above)

1 quart unsalted chicken stock

6 thin slices ginger

1 tablespoon regular soy sauce

1 teaspoon rock sugar

The rest:

8 ounces bok choy or napa cabbage, trimmed

1 package mung bean sheets (fenpi)

Boiling water, as needed

1. First make the fried green onions: Chop the green onions into 1-inch lengths and put them in a wok with the oil. Fry these together over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the onions are browned and toasty. Strain out the onions and place them in the bottom of a medium (6- to 8-cup) sandpot or covered casserole. Save ¼ cup of the green onion mingyou for Step 3 and reserve the rest for something else.

2. Next, prepare the seasoned water: Place the green onions, ginger, and water in a food processor equipped with a metal blade and whir these together until the ginger is pulverized; scrape down the sides a couple of times to get everything liquefied.

Easy & fast in a processor

3. Add all of the meatball ingredients, including the seasoned water, to the processor and beat them together for a minute or so until the mixture is light and fluffy. Set a wok over medium-high heat and swirl in the mingyou. Scoop out about 1/6 of the pork mixture form it into a ball as you place it in the hot oil. Do this again with 2 more meatballs, so that you are frying half of the mixture at a time. Brown the meatballs all over until they have a crunchy crust, and then place them in the sandpot. Repeat with the rest of the pork mixture in order to have 6 meatballs.

4. Add all of the sauce ingredients to the sandpot, cover, and bring the pot to a boil. Reduce the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and cook the lion heads for about 2 hours with the lid slightly ajar so that steam can escape.

5. While the sandpot is cooking away, cut the bok choy into thin wedges (about 4 to 6 wedges per medium head), being sure to clean out any grit at the bottom of the leaves, or thinly shred the napa cabbage. Place the mung bean sheets in a wide pan and cover with boiling water. Bring the pan to a boil and then simmer the fenpi until it is translucent and soft, but still chewy. If it hasn’t fallen apart into strips, drain the sheets and cut them up with kitchen shears into bite-sized pieces. Add the vegetables and cooked fenpi to the sandpot and gently mix things around so that the vegetables and fenpi are submerged; add boiling water only if absolutely necessary. Simmer this for around 15 minutes with the lid on so that the vegetables barely cook through and the sheets absorb the rich flavors of the stock. Serve hot. Use tongs to serve the fenpi, as it is pretty slippery.

The seasoned water ingredients

Tips

This recipe traditionally calls for a good piece of skinless pork shank that is hand-chopped. You can certainly do that, if you prefer: Cut the chilled meat into small cubes and first chop it with a Chinese knife to form a paste, and then beat it with the back of the knife to lighten up the mixture. Scrape this into a work bowl and then beat in the rest of the meatball with your hand, working in only one direction. I have to say, though, that the processor works pretty well here.

Mung bean sheets are fantastic here, but they are a personal addition to this classic dish. I adore their slippery, chewy texture, as well as the way they suck up all of the sauces layered flavors. Eating these noodle-like creations is a sensuous experience. If you can’t find them, use cellophane noodles (fensi), or simply serve the sandpot with some steamed rice.

This recipe can be easily multiplied for more people: Just use a large sandpot. Fancy parties should count on one meatball per person, as there will be other things on the table. For a home meal, though, offer two to each diner.

If you like this dish soupier, either cut out the fenpi or add another couple of cups of stock to the sandpot and season to taste.

  

Time to break out my favorite Chinese salad...

Summer Solstice was last week, and I don't know about you, but I always get sad on this day knowing that the days will start to grow shorter. I luxuriate in the long days and short nights of summer, feeling less lazy if I get up late since I know there will be plenty of sunlight throughout the evening. Perhaps I should grow wings and learn to migrate...

But autumn does have its definite good points, cooler weather being one. Until then, summer has finally hit the inland parts of our area with a blazing vengeance.  

Cool, crisp cucumbers

Last night the thought of actually cooking something seemed way beyond my abilities, so I dug around in the fridge and pantry and came up with the main ingredients for one of the best summer dishes around.  Its Chinese name is pretty prosaic and not really up to the challenge of stimulating a heat-ravaged appetite - shredded chicken with mung bean sheets - so I'll tell you what I usually call it: Manchurian chicken salad.

This is a popular appetizer in the northern provinces, with lots of places laying claim to inventing it, and who wouldn't want credit for something this tasty and easy? But from what I've been able to ferret out from following its sesame-scented trail, this is a native of China's far northeast, the New England - if you will - of China.

Fenpi from Tianjin

The only unusual ingredient is the dried mung bean sheets (fenpi), but you'll find this in just about any Chinese grocery, and it is quite happy to sit around on your shelf for ages. (Try it too in a No Excuses Tomato Casserole with Mung Bean Sheets.) The labels will have different translations of what it is, like "green beans starch sheet" in the photo on the right, but check out what the actual sheets look like down on the left. Also, there will often be something on the package that says it's from the port city of Tianjin, which tells you you're on the right track. If you don't have access to fenpi, whip up the basic ingredient in this super delicious summer recipe that calls for mung bean powder, and you'll be in business.

Tender little cucumbers bring a ray of cooling summer freshness to this dish, and I like to have leftover chicken on hand anyway whenever the heat takes off; in this case I bought a whole roasted chicken at a local farmers' market. However, if you don't have any chicken on hand, steam a couple of boneless breasts while the mung bean sheets are soaking, and they'll be ready in no time.

Dried fenpi

Mustard is a relative newcomer to Chinese cuisine, but it's entrenched itself firmly into many local dishes. Cantonese dim sum would be unthinkable to me without the sharp bite of Colman's mustard to cut the rich pork that adorns so many of its dishes. You can use Colman's here, too, by just mixing the powder with enough water to give it a creamy consistency. And that would be fine. But it wouldn't be great.

To really kick this dressing over the edge, use a nice Dijon-style mustard. It has a mellower edge that cozies up really well with the sesame paste. Bits of green onion and raw ginger give enough zip to entertain your taste buds, so the addition of a hot mustard here to my mind just ends up being startling instead of tasty.

The perfect dressing

Traditionally, this dressing is not cooked, but I've found that mixing it together in a small skillet brings the flavors together more and mellows them out. It also gives the sesame paste the chance to melt and smooth out, so you don't get any lumps.

This recipe makes twice the amount of dressing you'll need for an appetizer, but I am firm in recommending that you make this extra amount because it is a fabulous salad dressing. In fact, last night I whacked up a head of lettuce and divided it among two big dinner plates. Then, I layered this appetizer over each of the piles of lettuce and had an incredibly good salad. And the dressing was the exact amount needed.

You can make your own sesame paste, by the way, especially if you have a cup or so of Toasted Sesame Seeds.  Just whiz it away in a blender with some roasted sesame oil, and you're in business. It's really really cheap this way and tastes miles and away better than anything you can find in a store.

Manchurian chicken salad 

Jīsī lāpí  雞絲拉皮 

Northeast

Serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer, or 2 to 3 as an entree

Bean sheets:

3 sheets dried mung bean sheets (fenpi)

Boiling water to cover

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil 

Chicken and cukes:

12 to 16 ounces cooked, boneless chicken

2 Persian (or other small seedless) cucumbers

Dressing:

1 inch fresh ginger, peeled

1 green onion, green part only

½ cup toasted sesame paste

½ cup toasted sesame oil 

2 tablespoons good dark vinegar (like balsamic)

3 tablespoons sugar

¼ cup light soy sauce

3 tablespoons prepared mustard (Dijon is great here)

¼ cup water

Garnish:

2 tablespoons Toasted Sesame Seeds

Small bunch of cilantro, optional

Soaking the fenpi

1. Place the dried mung bean sheets in a large work bowl and pour the boiling water over them to cover. The sheets will begin to soften in a few minutes, so if any areas are sticking above the water, use your tongs to jab them down under. Allow the sheets to soak and rehydrate for about half an hour while you prepare the rest of the meal. (If you are making this a couple hours ahead of time, soak the mung bean strips during the last hour so that they don't become an unmanageable tangle.)

2. Shred or cut the chicken into thin strips. (You can remove the skin, if you like, but I enjoy the added texture and flavor that skin can bring.) Trim the ends off of the cucumbers and split them lengthwise before cutting them in half across the middle; cut each piece into thin strips as shown on the right. Cover the chicken and cukes and chill them until it's time to serve this dish.

3. Finely grate the ginger and chop the green onion leaves into small pieces. Melt the sesame paste and sesame oil together in a small skillet, using a silicone spatula to scrape the bottom. Add the vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, and mustard, and then mix them together and take a taste, adjusting with more of anything so that it tastes really good. Stir in the ginger and onions, and then loosen up the dressing with the water; you should end up with a sauce that has the consistency of heavy cream. Let it cool down by pouring it into a wide bowl. (You can make the recipe ahead of time up to this point and chill everything.)

Silky sheets in the kitchen

4. Drain the mung bean sheets and pour cold water over them, but do this carefully; they will have turned completely clear at this point and are rather fragile. You probably won't have to cut them since they tend to fall apart into bite-sized pieces all by themselves. Gently toss them with the bit of sesame oil to keep them from sticking together.

5. Just before serving, layer the mung bean sheets on your serving platter, then the cucumbers and chicken, and pour half of the dressing over the top. Garnish with the sesame seeds and cilantro, and have the extra dressing on the side for anyone who cares for more.

The case for ketchup in Chinese food

There's a lot of snobbery around when it comes to ketchup, or catsup, or tomato sauce, or red sauce, or whatever it is you call the stuff that you squirt on your hamburger. 

There are designer ketchups in upscale markets nowadays that boggle the mind of people like me who once thought that Heinz 57 was the best in the known universe.  

Even Jamie Oliver has a personal recipe for ketchup, and I've made it, and it's very good indeed.  

However, when it comes to Chinese food, I've heard lots of poopooing it as an ingredient.  

Somehow, folks have come to think that ketchup in Chinese cuisine is an abomination, a bastardized, bowdlerized, bilious additive that turns a sublime dish like the subtle Cantonese sweet-and-sour pork into a glowing goo-infested pile that by all rights should be eaten only while wearing a haz mat suit and a tee shirt that says I Am A Tourist in very large letters. And they may be right.

However - and this is something that most people don't know - ketchup is an important ingredient in many of China's coastal cuisines, particularly the dishes of Shanghai.

All the fresh ingredients

A good case could be made that this was in part because of the heavy foreign influence Westerners made in that great city when they carved it into concessions and transplanted their cultures and favorite foods into their respective sections. But whatever or whoever is responsible for bringing ketchup to the Chinese, it ends up that at least as far as this sauce is concerned, the food only got better. 

Just as meatloaf, steak, and french fries often are given a good dribble of Heinz to perk up their flavors, Chinese fried foods often have a little saucer of ketchup perched on the side for dipping and flavoring. But the Chinese took this humble condiment a few steps further, turning it into a remarkable ingredient for many of their most delicious sauces, most of them in the red or brown spectrum - but never day-glo orange - and with quite a few of them tangy with a vinegar balanced with a sprinkle of sugar. I've already included a number of recipes in this blog that do call on ketchup as a seasoning, but I have one more that I really like when the weather is cold and the fridge looks particularly dreary.

Almost as good as fresh here

 This delicious winter casserole from Shanghai is flavorful enough to serve alone with little more than a bowl of hot steamed rice, but it's also good enough to serve to guests.  It's super easy to prepare, cheap as all get out, and is vegan to boot. You can keep most of the ingredients on hand in the pantry, as the only things you need to pick up from the market are a couple of fresh tomatoes, although some good canned San Marzano tomatoes work really well here if the fresh stuff isn't looking too appetizing. (Roma tomatoes are often the best bet for fairly flavorful tomatoes in the off season, but don't use those pink tennis balls that questionable greengrocers try to pawn off as tomatoes since the flavor of the dish really depends on tomatoes that taste like tomatoes.)  When you buy your canned tomatoes, try to get whole ones because they tend to be of better quality than the chopped or crushed ones, and you can then cut them up to any size you like.

With the tomatoes out of the way, that leaves us with just some fresh ginger and green onions to pick up.  If you are like me and cook with ginger a whole lot, you'll probably have a nice piece or two stashed in a brown paper bag in your vegetable bin; I don't store my ginger in plastic bags, since they'll rot fairly easily that way, but paper will wick up any moisture and keep my ginger lovely for weeks.

Now we're left with just the green onions, which should be a snap to find, but if even this is causing you trouble, then use half a regular onion instead and no one will be the wiser.  If you want, you can add some sliced mushrooms to the dish when you fry the ginger and green onions, or toss in other ingredients like meat - this is one very versatile meal.

As you can see, there's no excuse for you to not have absolutely everything on hand for this dish, and then you can put together something hot and delicious in minutes.  I was going to mention that even kids like this casserole, but I think I'm beginning to sell this a bit too hard.  Just try it and let me know.



Tomato casserole with mung bean sheets 
Fanqie fenpi bao  蕃茄粉皮煲  
Shanghai

Serves 4 to 6 as part of a multi-course meal

2 sheets mung bean sheets (fenpi); see note below
2 large red fresh tomatoes, or about 6 to 8 fresh Roma or whole canned Marzano tomatoes
Boiling water
3 tablespoons peanut oil
1 tablespoon finely chopped ginger
2 green onions, trimmed
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
2 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons light soy sauce
1 tablespoon rice wine
2 teaspoons sugar
1½ cups stock
Salt to taste

Roasted sesame oil, chopped cilantro, or any garnish you like, optional

Dried fenpi right out of the wrapper

1. Place the mung bean sheets in a large heatproof bowl and cover them with warm tap water; let them soak and soften while you prepare the tomatoes, measure out the other ingredients, and chop the ginger, green onions, and garlic.

2. Peel the tomatoes by blanching them (make 4 light cuts down each tomato and then cover them with boiling water for a few minutes until the skin shrivels, at which point the skins can be easily removed); pull any skins off of the canned tomatoes, if you are using them.  Core and cut the tomatoes into 1-inch or so cubes, and reserve all of the juices.

3. Drain the mung bean sheets and slice them into half-inch strips. Place them back in the bowl, soak them in boiling water for about 5 seconds to remove any mustiness, and then drain them in a colander.

4. Heat the oil in a wok over high heat until it begins to shimmer. Toss in the ginger and quickly stir-fry for a few seconds to release their fragrance. Add the onions, stir them quickly in the oil for a few seconds more, and then add the tomatoes and their juices.  After about 10 seconds, add the rest of the ingredients except for the mung bean sheets.  

5. Bring this to a boil and taste, adjusting it as needed for more sweetness or saltiness.  Add the mung bean sheets and bring to a boil.  This is traditionally cooked in a casserole, so if you have a 1-quart pottery casserole handy, pour everything into it and lower the heat to medium. Simmer the covered casserole for 10 or 15 minutes over medium-low heat until the mung bean sheets are tender but not mushy and the sauce has thickened.  Serve hot with a sprinkling of roasted sesame oil, chopped cilantro, or whatever garnish you would like.

A typical package of fenpi

A note on mung bean sheets, or fenpi: These are thick discs that are usually available dried in the noodle section of a Chinese grocery, and they sometimes come with creative translations, such as the one here: green beans starch sheet. If in doubt, just ask a clerk or another customer if what you have plucked from the shelf is fenpi, and they'll probably be happy to help.

Fenpi start with finely ground green beans and some wheat starch that is then mixed with water and cooked into a paste; this paste is then poured into circles and dried. Fenpi probably originated in the northeast area of China around Manchuria, and they are still used from Tianjin and Beijing on up north mainly as a base for cold appetizers that are really quite refreshing and delightful, and there these sheets are referred to as lapi, as in the famous dish Jisi lapi (Shredded chicken over mung bean sheets).  In these dishes, the mung bean sheets are soaked in cool water until plump and pliable, and then they are cut into thin strips and used as a base for things like shredded cold chicken and cucumbers tossed with a mustard and sesame sauce.