Jackson Street in San
Francisco's Chinatown used to have a little hole-in-the-wall call the Star
Cafe. It was my kind of place.
Star Cafe was only wide enough to squeeze in the semblance of a kitchen in on the right, run a counter down the middle, and stuff a couple of worn tables and chairs in the back.
The toilet was a creaky affair in the far corner that didn't invite anyone to sit and read the paper, and it was obviously treasured more as a place to stash wet mops, extra to-go boxes, and extra chairs than it was as a restroom.
Star Cafe was only wide enough to squeeze in the semblance of a kitchen in on the right, run a counter down the middle, and stuff a couple of worn tables and chairs in the back.
The toilet was a creaky affair in the far corner that didn't invite anyone to sit and read the paper, and it was obviously treasured more as a place to stash wet mops, extra to-go boxes, and extra chairs than it was as a restroom.
But what this little dive
lacked in refinement, it more than made up for in flavor and price. These
folks really were from Shanghai, they cooked what they knew, and we would
usually stroll out of there completely stuffed for under ten bucks. Not
many places in The City have that type of reputation.
What I really loved there were its Shanghai Mustard Pickles. A huge glass jar of them would be perched in their old cooler, the pickles kept crisp and cold, just the way I wanted them. We'd order a bowl of them to munch on while we perused the menu, and I'd usually commandeer the lion's portion of the pickles before washing them down with a glass of cold, sweetened soybean milk that was also homemade.
What I really loved there were its Shanghai Mustard Pickles. A huge glass jar of them would be perched in their old cooler, the pickles kept crisp and cold, just the way I wanted them. We'd order a bowl of them to munch on while we perused the menu, and I'd usually commandeer the lion's portion of the pickles before washing them down with a glass of cold, sweetened soybean milk that was also homemade.
One day when we tromped
over there for another meal, we found the doors locked and a sign on them
saying the owners were away on a trip to China. That trip turned into
years while the storefront stayed empty, and I longed in vain for my pickles,
as no one else I knew every offered them. Then, one fine day I ran across
a recipe for Mustard Stems Pickled in Sweet Rice Vinegar in the wonderful Bruce
Cost book, Asian
Ingredients. With a little tweaking, his pickles soon turned
into the ones in my dreams. (Thanks, Bruce!)
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Trimmed jiecai & ginger |
Shanghai mustard pickles
Tángcù jiècài 糖醋芥菜
Shanghai
Makes about a quart
5 medium heads of Chinese mustard cabbage
2 tablespoons sea salt
4 cups sushi vinegar (usually called "seasoned rice vinegar")
8 dried chili peppers
5 crushed cloves of garlic
10 thin slices of ginger
Boiling water, as needed
5 medium heads of Chinese mustard cabbage
2 tablespoons sea salt
4 cups sushi vinegar (usually called "seasoned rice vinegar")
8 dried chili peppers
5 crushed cloves of garlic
10 thin slices of ginger
Boiling water, as needed
1. Trim off any flimsy
leaves from the mustard cabbage and reserve them for some other use. Cut
the stems into 2- to 3-inch lengths and then cut each length into pieces no
more than half an inch wide. Rinse the mustard cabbage carefully, shake dry,
and place it in a colander. Sprinkle the salt over the vegetables, lightly
rub the salt in, and let them sit for an hour or so to remove most of the
excess water.
2. Clean a quart-sized
glass jar and lid, making sure that there's no oil or soap residue in there, as
this could cause the pickles to mold. Rinse the jar and lid with boiling
water and turn them upside-down to drain.
3. Bring the vinegar to a
boil in a medium saucepan along with the peppers, garlic, and ginger; let the brine
simmer for a few minutes. Shake the excess salt and water off of the
mustard cabbage and place it in the glass jar. Pour the boiling brine over
the vegetables and toss them lightly; add a bit of boiling water so that it
almost reaches the top of the vegetables. Stir the vegetables every 5
minutes or so as they cool so that all of them turn from an emerald green to an
olive shade. As they turn color, they'll shrink, and the brine should soon
cover the vegetables. Add a bit more water as needed to keep the
vegetables submerged.
4. When the jar is cool,
refrigerate it for at least two days. Use a very clean pair of chopsticks or
fork to remove the pickles. They'll last at least a month if kept clean
and cold.