Fish with three heads of garlic

In its original form, this is a classic Shanghainese dish. But I’ve gone it a couple times better by tweaking it in various ways. This ends up showing off the sterling quality of an excellent piece of fish while pleasing the nose and the palate with a rich sauce.

Plus, I like to terrify people with the idea that there are three whole heads of garlic in there. They expect this to be absolutely noxious from a mountain of the stinking rose, and then are bowled over by the buttery delicacy of those ivory little petals, for the subtle aroma and flavor of the garlic merely hints at their raw nature.

Most traditional recipes merely ask that you brown a non-startling number of cloves and a sensible amount of ginger and green onions in lard before adding a whole yellow croaker. The fish is browned, the seasonings are added, and the dish is ready when the fish is done. This is simply red-cooked fish with some garlic swimming around. What’s the fun in that?

For my inspiration, I took a page from the old French recipe for chicken with forty cloves of garlic. The first time I made that chicken recipe, I was expecting to be knocked over by the garlic, but instead fell in love with the incredible creaminess of the garlic and the perfume of the sauce. That was filed away in my memory banks until I started to muse about ways to make standard garlic fish into something stunning. (Let that be a lesson to you: read lots and lots and lots of cookbooks. Some of them are the equals of great literature – I’m thinking of M.F.K. Fisher, Roy de Groot, Elizabeth David – plus they tell you how to make food in ways that turn out to be universal.)

And so, after you slog through peeling three heads of garlic (that is the only onerous part of this recipe, by the way), you slowly fry them with the ginger and green onions in a bit of oil until they are golden, lavishly scented, and soft as a lamb’s ear. These are set to one side while you brown the fish, and then the fish gets a chance to relax while you make the sauce.

Now, the second secret of the sauce is that you cook it down separately from the fish. This is really important because you never, ever want overcooked fish. You also never, ever want watery sauce. But, if you make a standard red-cooked fish, you run the risk of either overcooking the fish in order to get flavor in the sauce, or vice versa. So, boil the sauce down rapidly while the fish rests, dunk the fish in the sauce for a few minutes, and then remove the fish to your serving dish. Quickly reduce the sauce a final time until it is thick, bubbly, and looks like dark honey. The flavors will then be jammed in there just waiting to leap on the simple background of the fish, and life will become very good indeed.

Finally, in addition to the insane number of garlic cloves in here, you also have plumped-up mushrooms. Most traditional recipes want you to cut these in half or quarters, but that makes them firm little islands in an ocean of soft textures. So, slice the mushroom caps thinly on the diagonal so that they too can relax in the sauce and turn into supple ribbons. You also get the soaking liquid in the sauce, which really amplifies the xianwei to what are, scientifically speaking, stratospheric levels.

Start peeling those cloves...

And so, in spite of there being three whole heads of garlic in here, I’d strongly suggest that you consider this for an evening when you want to romance someone. It serves four, but you can have the leftovers over a hot bowl of noodles for brunch the next day.

Braised Fish with Three Heads of Garlic

Dàsuàn yú jiā sānbèi 大蒜魚加三倍

Serves 4

  

4 black mushrooms

1 cup / 240ml boiling water

1 to 1½ pounds / 450 to 600g firm-fleshed fish, like Pacific halibut or big skate (see Tips)

7 tablespoons regular soy sauce, divided into 1 and 6 tablespoons

3 heads garlic

½ cup / 120ml fresh peanut or vegetable oil

20 (or so) thin slices ginger

9 green onions, trimmed

1 to 2 tablespoons rock sugar

1. Rinse the mushrooms, place them in a heatproof bowl, and cover with the boiling water. Place a plate on top of the bowl and let the mushrooms plump up while you prepare the rest of the ingredients. (Or, if you are really organized, cover the dried mushrooms with cool water the night before and let them slowly revive, which makes them even better.) When the mushrooms are fat and soft, remove the stems and save them for something else, and then slice the caps on the diagonal into long, thin strips. Reserve the soaking water. Rinse the fish, wipe it dry, place it in another work bowl, and toss it with 1 tablespoon soy sauce. Let the fish marinate for at least 20 minutes, and then discard any liquid in the bowl.

2. Separate the garlic into cloves, cut off the hard ends of each clove, and the lightly smack the cloves before peeling them. Place your wok over medium heat, and add the oil when it is hot. Toss in the garlic and the ginger. Lightly smack the white halves of the green onions and then cut the onions into 2 inch/5 cm lengths before adding them to the wok. Slowly fry these aromatics over medium heat (adjusting the heat as needed) so that they gradually soften and brown; this should take at least 20 minutes. You don’t want them to burn at any point, but rather surrender their flavor to the oil. The garlic will lose all its bite and turn soft and creamy. Remove the aromatics to a small work bowl.

Browned and luscious

3. Raise the heat under the wok to medium-high and add the fish, skin side down. Cook the fish without moving it until it browns, which will allow the soy sauce on the skin to caramelize. Use a wok spatula to loosen the fish and turn it over. Reduce the heat to medium. When the bottom is lightly browned, remove the fish to a plate.

4. Raise the heat under the wok to high, and then add the aromatics, mushrooms, and rice wine to it along with the rest of the soy sauce, about 1 teaspoon rock sugar, and the strained mushroom soaking liquid. Bring this to a full boil. After about a minute, taste the sauce and add more sugar if needed. Quickly cook this down until about half of the sauce remains. Gently slide the fish and any juices into the wok and simmer the fish in the sauce so that they get to know each other. After about 5 minutes, pierce the thickest part with a chopstick – if it goes through the fish as if it were made of butter, the fish is done. Carefully remove the fish to a rimmed deep serving dish, boil the sauce down until it is syrupy, and scrape it over the fish. Serve with hot rice.

Tips

The traditional fish for this recipe is yellow croaker. However, any good, sustainable fish like Pacific halibut or the wing of a big skate will be, in my humble opinion, even better.

If you get something from a giant fish like halibut, aim for the flat section just behind the cavity. This is relatively boneless and has lots of skin, which you want to keep attached to the flesh, for it ends up supplying all sorts of delicious fats and flavors to your dish, plus it helps keep the fish from falling apart. Moreover, the flat shape of this cut of a halibut – like a skate wing – allows it to cook quickly, and yet gives each morsel the chance to be bathed in the sumptuous sauce.

Ever eaten Qinghai cuisine? Be prepared for a delicious surprise...

 Qinghai in China's far west is not famous in China for its cuisine, but the few things from there that I have tried have been terrific, so this low profile is a puzzle to me. Its cuisine is a great cross between so many influences—Han Chinese, Hui Muslim, Tibetans—that you just know the food here has to be good.

One such dish is this flavorful, gorgeous, and yet quite easy fish that is decorated with a “flower” cut design so that the meat of the fish blooms in the hot oil as it fries, crisping up into petals that, when done, make the fish look indeed much like a pinecone. A tangy sauce is then poured over it and toasted pine nuts complete the transformation from fish into a tasty work of art.

Flower cut

           

Similar preparations are found throughout northern China and down through the Yangtze River area. The version called Squirrel Fish (sōngshŭ yú 松鼠魚) is a classic Hangzhou dish, for example, and then there is Shandong’s Sweet-and-Sour Fish (tángcù yú 糖醋魚), plus any number of similar recipes that coat fresh- or saltwater fish in a light batter, fry it until crisp, and then drape it with a refined sauce. 

Since fish goes so well with slightly sour notes like lemon and vinegar, it is understandable that here in China its sauce will sometimes contain sweet-and-sour notes. And because it tastes so good and looks so nice, the sauce is often red from ketchup and buzzes with bits of aromatics, like ginger, green onion, and garlic.

           

Some might even have some pine nuts in the mix, but the recipe below is exceptionally successful in this regard, for the fish is not only make to look a bit like a pinecone but even has the nuts to carry the fantasy a bit further.

Pinecone fish

Sōngzĭ yú 松子魚

Qinghai
Serves 4 to 6

Fish and batter:
2 pounds (more or less) fileted fish with the skin on (rock cod, amberjack, or carp are all good)

½ teaspoon sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup rice wine (Mijiu)

¾ cup cornstarch, divided

Vegetables:

1 pound bok choy or other greens

3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

1 teaspoon sea salt

Sauce:

Lower the fish gently into oil

4 cup peanut or vegetable oil (used all right if it smells fresh)

¼ cup pine nuts

4 green onions, trimmed and finely chopped

¼ cup minced fresh ginger

1 teaspoon sea salt

¼ cup catsup

2 tablespoons light colored (apple or rice) vinegar

1 cup unseasoned chicken stock

2 tablespoons sugar

¼ cup cool filtered water

1. Rinse the fish and pat it dry with a paper towel. Lay the filets on a cutting board with the skin-side down. Working on one filet at a time, make parallel slices ¼-inch apart down the length of the filet that cut through the flesh but not through the skin. Then turn the filet 90 degrees and, starting with the thicker end, make deep diagonal slices ¼-inch apart through the flesh all the way down the body but again not through the skin. Repeat with the other filet. Mix together the salt, pepper, rice wine, and half of the cornstarch, and then gently massage this into all the crevasses on the cut side of the fish; don’t be concerned if bits of fish fall off, as they can be fried too and tossed on top of the filets with no one the wiser. Let the fish marinate in this while you prepare everything else.

Fried up & crispy

2. Rinse the vegetables well, shake dry, and cut the bok choy lengthwise into quarters or the spinach or other greens into 2-inch lengths, discarding any tough pieces. Heat a wok over high heat, add the oil and salt, swirl these around, and then stir-fry the vegetables until barely done. Use the vegetables to make a next on a serving platter.

3. Heat the oil in your wok over medium heat and add the pine nuts. Gently fry these until they have turned a light brown, and then use a slotted spoon to remove them to a small bowl.

4. Coat the marinated fish with the other half of the cornstarch: Working on one piece at a time, pick up each piece of fish by the tail end and scatter the cornstarch into the crevasses so that the cut pieces do not stick together. Gently lower the filet into the hot oil and fry on the cut side first until it is lightly browned. Use two spatulas to carefully turn it over, fry briefly on the other side, and then transfer the filet to the vegetable-lined platter. Repeat with the other filet, reserving any leftover cornstarch in the bowl for the sauce. If you have any broken bits of fish left over, fry these too and then scatter them over the fried filets. Drain the oil out of the wok, leaving only about 3 tablespoons.

5. Lower the heat under the wok to medium and add the green onions and ginger. Stir these around in the hot oil to release their fragrance, and then add the salt, ketchup, vinegar, stock and sugar, and bring these to a boil. Mix the leftover cornstarch with the water to make a slurry, and pour as much in as needed to thicken the sauce. Taste and adjust the seasoning, and then pour this over the fried filets. Sprinkle the tops with the toasted pine nuts and serve immediately.

Pining for fish

I've been really lucky in meeting great food people. And someone who has turned out to be especially delicious in every way has been the great Chinese cookbook author Florence Lin. Now her early nineties and still vivacious and funny, she is as much of an inspiration in person as she is on the page.

That is why, when I want some good ideas, I call her up and pick her brain. This happened again a couple of weeks ago, and she mentioned a dish she's come to enjoy a whole lot: Jiangsu's Stir-fried Fish with Pine Nuts. She briefly described it, and I went to work.

I have to admit, I am an unrepentant sucker when it comes to nuts in just about any kind of dish, and the generous proportion of nuts to fish here makes me particularly happy. But the lovely little cubes of cod are nothing to sniff at, as they are crispy on the outside, their crunchy but light coating contrasting perfectly with the delicate white meat. 

You can dress this up with fresh or dried chilies, if you like, or green onions or ginger or whatever you’re hungry for that evening. This really is a classic black dress of a dish that can be made as fancy or as simple as you like. What I prefer in this case is the gentle aroma of finely minced garlic hovering in the background as an unobtrusive bolster for the vibrantly toasty pine nuts.

Stir-fried fish with pine nuts  
Sōngzĭ chǎo yúdīng 松子炒魚丁
Jiangsu

Serves 4 

1 cup shelled raw pine nuts (see Tips)

Start the nuts in cold oil

6 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

1 pound fresh cod, skinned and boned (see Tips)

¼ cup potato starch or cornstarch (see Tips)

½ teaspoon sea salt

4 cloves garlic, peeled and finely minced

6 tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine

1. Put the pine nuts and the oil in a cold wok and slowly heat the nuts over medium heat (see Tips), stirring as needed, until the nuts are toasty and golden. Use a slotted spoon to remove them from the wok to a small work bowl, and leave the oil in the wok. Let them cool to room temperature while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

2. Rinse the cod and pat it dry with a paper towel. Cut the cod into ½-inch squares and place it in a medium work bowl. Toss the cod with the potato starch so that each piece is completely coated.

3. Heat the oil over high heat until it shimmers and swirl in the salt so that it dissolves. Add the cod in batches to keep the fish cubes from sticking to each other; toss the cod in the hot oil, and as soon as the cubes are nice and golden, remove them to a clean work bowl. Repeat with the rest of the cod until all are cooked, adding more oil, if necessary.

4. Drain off all but 1 tablespoon of the oil. Add the minced garlic to the hot oil and stir it around quickly to release its fragrance, but don’t let it brown. Toss in the fried fish cubes and the rice wine and stir-fry them all quickly until most of the wine has evaporated. Toss in the pine nuts, adjust the seasoning, and serve hot.

Perfectly toasted

Tips

Get really fresh pine nuts for this dish, as musty ones will just ruin it. Store them in the freezer if you don’t use pine nuts that often; they don’t need to be defrosted before using.

The same goes for the fish; frozen cod is fine, but defrost it completely and squeeze it gently once it has defrosted, as this fish tends to get waterlogged. Pat it very dry with paper towels before tossing it with the potato starch.

Potato starch is very nice here, as it provides the fish with a very craggy, crunchy crust, but cornstarch will do just fine if you don’t have it. I use a Taiwanese brand of potato starch with a smiling sweet potato and a yellow label.

Frying nuts over low heat and starting with cold oil is the secret to having crispy nuts that aren't either burned or still raw in the center. 

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.

Shanghainese soy braised yellowtail collar

Red-braising, or hongshao, is very popular in China all the way from the Shanghai area on the eastern coast up through the north and then out west. But Jiangsu province remains the home of what I like to think of as the greatest of all hongshao dishes simply because they are done with such subtlety.

Here, for example, the hongshao sauce has absolutely no water added; the only moisture is provided by the Shaoxing rice wine and soy sauce, while a slick of peanut oil gives it richness and rock sugar lends a sweetness that does not turn sour on the palate the way that regular sugar sometimes can. This is a style of cooking known as "dry braising," or ganshao.

Yellowtail collars

In this insanely delicious yet super easy dish, the sauce is reduced to a thick, caramelized syrup. Thin shards of ginger and specks of green onion become almost candy-like by the time the fish is ready -- it makes me wish that there was a candybar somewhere with such an equally lovely hit of salt to provide sensory balance and depth of flavor, a treat that lingers on the tongue like poetry, a caramel that hints of the sea.

The folks in eastern China in particular have a uniquely delicious way with fish, so much so that I've come to genuinely enjoy their methods of preparing what Westerners often think of a scraps: the head, the tail, and -- like here -- the collar, which is the area on the body right under the gills. There usually is an edge of bone called the pectoral girdle that frames these gills, and this extends a ways down the body and under the chin, which why the Chinese word for this piece is xiaba, or "chin." There are two pieces of collar on large fish, as they are usually not joined to each other.

The secret: lots of ginger

Seek out a good fishmonger and ask whether the collar of good, solid-fleshed sea fish could be saved for you. My favorite when I can find it is yellowtail collar, and this is sometimes sold by its Japanese name, hamachi kama, for the Japanese love this cut almost as much as they adore the flesh of the fish as sashimi. The Chinese name for yellowtail is youganyu (literally "oil sweet fish"), probably because it is so buttery and delectable. Some of my best sources for this cut have been busy Korean groceries, so check a couple out if you have lots of Koreans in your area, as I am lucky enough to have around here.

Serve this Shanghainese dish as an appetizer with cold beer or warm rice wine, or as a main course with only freshly steamed white rice and some stir-fried vegetables to accompany it. This is such a powerfully delicious way with fish that you don't want to upstage it with anything else. You can also make this ahead of time, refrigerate it, and gently heat it up before serving; I particularly like to broil in a few inches away from the heat so that the skin becomes chewy and even more caramelized.

Fish candy. What a concept.

Shanghainese soy braised yellowtail collar 
Hushi ganshao youganyu xiaba 滬式乾燒油甘魚下巴 
Shanghai, Jiangsu

Serves 4 generously as an appetizer or as part of a multicourse meal

4 halves (about 2 pounds) very fresh collar from a yellowtail (aka Hamachi), amberjack, or other firm-fleshed yet mild large sea fish

6 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

5 tablespoons thinly sliced fresh ginger

2 cups green onions, trimmed and cut into 1-inch lengths

½ cup Shaoxing rice wine, divided

6 tablespoons good regular soy sauce

4 tablespoons (or so) crushed rock, brown slab, or piloncillo sugar

Sear the fish with the ginger

1. Rinse the collars carefully under cool running water, making sure than all viscera and gills have been removed. Thoroughly scrape off all scales under running water; carefully go over the skin a couple of times with a paring knife to ensure that the skin is scale free, since the skin is delicious and scales would ruin everything. Pat the collars very dry with a paper towel so that they fry in the oil rather than steam.

2. Heat the oil in a large, flat-bottomed skillet over medium-high until a small piece of ginger immediately sizzles when added. Place the ginger and the collars (skin-side down) in the hot oil. Sear the fish on one side without moving it so that a light crust is formed. Shake the pan and flip the collars over; add the green onions and shake the pan so that they shimmy down under the fish. When the second side of the fish is golden too, add the soy sauce, sugar, and half of the rice wine. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pan, and let the fish slowly cook for about 10 minutes. Raise the heat to medium-high, and when the sauce has been reduced to a heavy syrup, gently turn the fish over and add the other half of the rice wine. Cook the sauce uncovered until it has once again has been reduced; you will be able to smell caramel as the sauce reaches its perfect state of gooiness. (The fish may be prepared ahead of time up to this point and gently reheated under the broiler in the final step.)

3. Remove from the heat and place the fish skin-side up on a lightly oiled broiler pan; scrape all of the sauce and ginger and onions onto the fish, as well. Broil the fish a few inches from the coils until the edges of the fish have caramelized and the sauce is very sticky.

Tips

Asian markets – and in particular the Korean grocery stores here in the Bay Area – have a wonderful array of fish, including varieties and cuts that Western markets often don’t offer.

If you decide to plunge in and prepare a fish head, just substitute one whole fish head for the four collar halves. Split (or have your fishmonger split) the head down the middle and remove the gills. Rinse the head carefully, scale the skin carefully, pat it dry, and proceed as with the collar.

Check with your fishmonger to see if yellowtail heads or collars can be special ordered.

Rock sugar (as well as other solid sugars like Chinese brown slab and piloncillo) is a secret to the luxurious mouthfeel of many Chinese sauces because it melts into a silky layer that does not leave a sour aftertaste.

This dish will be recognized by Chinese cognoscenti as being from Shanghai due to the copious amounts of green onions, as well as because of the sweet-salty sauce. Both the green onions and the ginger are every bit as delicious as the fish here, so be sure to enjoy them in-between bites of the fish.