A Beijing Hui Muslim classic: beef shanks & eggs

Beijing’s Hui Muslim dishes are without a doubt some of my favorite in the region. Much of this has to do with the creative ways in which every bit of an animal is used. In the West, we tend to toss out the less popular parts of an animal, but that is not the case in China. Not only are Chinese cooks frugal – which they most definitely are – but they also appreciate the intriguing textures that the heart, stomach, and shin have to offer.

These variety meats are the kind of things that every single Beijing-style Muslim eatery I’ve ever eaten in offers. If they are a small, family-run place, they will display them right in the front window, the same way Cantonese delis hang ducks and pigs near the sidewalk. The flavors are rich and savory, and based on a spice-infused marinade that is colored by soy sauce and slightly sweetened with rock sugar.

Edible stained glass window

Depending on what time of day it is and how hot it is outside, we might have a plate full of cool, braised liver, tendons, heart, tripe, and so forth to start off a meal. Or perhaps a breakfast sandwich of tender, braised shin shaved into paper-thin slices and packed into a sesame-paste biscuit, or shaobing. Dinner might include some eggs, bean curd, and thick seaweed cooked in that same braising liquid, as well. Alongside this, we would usually order some millet porridge and a plate of stir-fried greens.

Beef shins are a cut of meat that really deserves your love. They’re cheap, nothing but completely edible, and are ribboned with thin tendons that turn into translucent, tender codas between the gorgeous meat. I mean, look at that photo above and tell me that isn’t drop-dead beautiful.

These shins will be soft and as relaxed as a kitten when they are raw – see the photo below. As soon as they hit hot water, though, they will shrink up into tense little balls and stay that way, so don’t worry about crowding your pan at the very beginning. This shrinkage is due to the tendons, which will become incredibly hard at this point and only dissolve into a delectable gumminess after a slow braise.

Raw tendons

I get my beef shins at a Chinese market in Oakland that sells them in sets of six or so in plastic bags, so that is what I’ve gotten used to as my basic measure. However, there’s nothing stopping you from dividing the recipe in half or less, or even multiplying it a couple of times for parties. Be sure a make the braised eggs with this fabulous sauce after you pluck out the beef – they are just as delicious as the shins.

Braised beef shanks and eggs
Lŭ níujiàn, lŭ dàn 滷牛腱、滷蛋

Beijing
Serves 8 to 12

Beautiful beautiful beautiful

6 boneless beef shins 
Water, as needed
½ cup thinly sliced ginger 
4 green onions 
6 tablespoons regular soy sauce 
4 star anise 
½ stick cinnamon 
1 tablespoon fennel seeds 
2 teaspoons Sichuan peppercorns 
¼ cup rock sugar, or ½ piece of brown slab sugar 
2 dried Thai chilies, optional 
1 piece cured tangerine peel, optional 
1 cup rice wine, optional 

12 to 18 small to medium eggs, boiled until firm (see directions below) and peeled

To serve:

Thinly sliced green onions

Toasted sesame oil

1. Place the shins in a wide pot, cover them with water, bring the water to a boil over high heat, lower the heat, simmer the meats for about 10 minutes, and then dump out the water. Rinse the scum off of the meat and the pan.

2. Return the meats to the pan, and add all of the ingredients up through the optional rice wine, as well as enough water to cover the meats. Bring the pan to a boil and then lower the heat to a simmer. Cook the shins until they can easily be pierced with a chopstick, about 3 hours. You can also make these in a pressure cooker: braise on high for about an hour. Remove the shins to a bowl, cool, and then refrigerate them for easier slicing.

Ready for the braise

3. Add the peeled eggs to the strained sauce. Bring the uncovered pan to a boil, reduce the heat to low, and slowly simmer the eggs for an hour or two, adding only as much water as needed to keep them more or less submerged. Cool the eggs and sauce to room temperature and let them sit in the sauce for at least two days so that the flavors really permeate the eggs.

4. To serve, slice the shanks crosswise (against the grain) into really thin slices. Fan these out onto a plate or a bowl of hot noodles. Cut the eggs into wedges. Drizzle them with a bit of the sauce, if you like, or simply a bit of toasted sesame oil and a sprinkle of green onions. 

How to correctly boil eggs

Prick the round ends with a sharp pin or tack, as this gives that bubble of air inside the shell an escape route and so prevent the eggs from cracking.

Braised eggs - tan down to the yolks

Place the eggs in a pot of warm water, and bring the water to a boil over high heat, stirring the eggs very often as they come to a boil so that the yolks become centered in the whites. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook them for about 8 minutes. Dump out the water, cover them with cool tap water, and then peel them when they have cooled down.

Whenever you make hard-boiled eggs for recipes like this, look for two things: the smallest eggs possible, and eggs that are not too fresh. Smaller eggs absorb the sauce’s flavors faster, while older eggs are easier to peel. Also, if you gently stir the eggs as they are coming to a boil, you will keep the yolks centered in the still-soft whites; once the water barely comes to a boil, the whites will have set and you can stop stirring. Never boil the eggs at full blast, though, as this will make the whites tough. A gentle simmer is enough – they will also be cooked in the sauce, so there’s no need to overdo it. When cooking hardboiled eggs, keep the lid off, otherwise pressure will build up in the pan and the egg whites will have a honeycomb texture.

Something that will make your Taiwanese friends deliriously happy

One time we were absolutely starved, but since the restaurant we normally patronize in a Chinese strip mall near here was still taking its afternoon siesta, we hunted around for something else to eat. 

The sign for one place looked promising: home-style Taiwanese food. Visions of the great street food we used to enjoy in Taipei danced in our head, and we were almost giddy at the thought of having some oyster rolls, fish ball soup, sesame oil chicken, and braised pork over rice.

Our hopes and ravenous taste buds were dashed with equal force when the waiter said that they didn't have any of those dishes, either on the menu or because they weren't in stock. So, we ordered a bunch of other items that were barely edible and not particularly memorable except for their extravagant prices.

The secret ingredients

And I started to wonder, why can't I get some of Taiwan's greatest street foods around here? There certainly are enough Taiwanese in the Bay Area to warrant a try, and I bet if any clever restaurateur put a good bowl of that porky manna from heaven called lurou fan before a homesick Taiwanese, he or she would have a customer for life.

Utterly dissatisfied with my meal, but with my memories and appetite kicked into full gear, I went grocery shopping on my way home.

Right after I walked in the door, I got out my wok and whipped up one of those staples of Taiwanese street food, the kind of food that grandmas have bubbling on the stove and sending out puffs of deliriously delicious fragrances out of apartment windows, one of those dishes that you swear you can smell in your dreams.

The good thing is that it's not hard to make, it's great to have on hand, and anyone who likes pork and soy sauce will fall in love. As in the traditional recipes, the pork is served with a hard-boiled egg that has simmered in the pork sauce, as well as a bright round of Japanese pickled daikon. 

Learn how to boil the perfect egg!

In our house, we have one person who will eat as many eggs as he can get away with. (One time I made a dozen eggs like these and came upon him in the kitchen happily polishing off egg #9.) I therefore make lots more eggs that these recipes usually call for. Feel free to double or triple the amount of hard-boiled eggs; your only limitation is the sauce that needs to cover them, and the recipe can be doubled or tripled, as well. I have some suggestions below on how to get your eggs to end up with a yolk that is balanced in the center, rather than clinging to one side and subjecting the white to tearing.

There is also a recipe here for fried shallots, a prized seasoning in Taiwanese cooking. If you can, double the recipe and use the crispy little rings in your eggs, over noodles, on top of soups or even salads, and anywhere that could benefit from their subtle oniony punch and crunch. The oil the shallots were fried in is wonderful too, and is one of Chinese cuisine's traditional finishing oils, or mingyou, that are sprinkled over dishes to add a nice sheet and touch of flavor. Store this oil in the fridge, and keep a bit of it in a squirt bottle next to the stove. 

Frying shallots - seriously yum

Back to the star of the show, though. The resulting pork and sauce is served over a bowl of steaming rice with an egg (or three), a sprinkle of chopped cilantro, and a couple slices of that neon yellow Japanese daikon pickle known as takuan. This last fillip is probably a leftover from Taiwan's colonial days, when the Japanese ruled the roost. The politics of the matter aside, Japan left its cuisine behind in good hands, for this touch of color and piquant flavor is nothing less than perfect in this bowl of traditional Taiwanese aromas.

Eat it and weep... with delight.

Diced braised pork over rice
Lǔròu fàn 滷肉飯
Southern Fujian & Taiwan

Serves 6 to 8 as part of a multi-course meal

Fried shallots:
1 cup thinly-sliced shallots or small onions

2 cups fresh vegetable or peanut oil

Braised pork and eggs:

2 pounds fresh pork (try to get a ratio of two parts lean to one part fat)
½ cup garlic, chopped
½ cup shallots, chopped
The fried shallots (see above)
6 tablespoons peanut oil
Boiling water as needed

6 to 8 hard-boiled eggs, peeled

Sauce:
4 tablespoons tasty peanut butter, chunky or smooth
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 whole star anise
½ teaspoon five-spice powder
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ cup light soy sauce
¾ cup mild rice wine (Taiwanese Mijiu) 

Rock sugar to taste (or about the size of a walnut)
4 cups boiling water

Final touches:
6 to 8 cups hot steamed rice
Pickled Japanese daikon (takuan), sliced
Chopped cilantro

1. Start this dish at least a day before you want to serve it. First make the fried shallots. Separate the sliced shallots (or onions) into rings so that they fry quickly and evenly. Heat the oil in a wok over medium high heat until a wooden or bamboo chopstick inserted into the oil is immediately covered with bubbles. Sprinkle in the shallots, reduce the heat to medium, and slowly fry them until they turn a golden brown, stirring often so that they do not burn or cook unevenly. Remove the fried shallots to a plate, strain the oil, and use that as a finishing oil, or mingyou, in other dishes.

Porky gravel

2. Blanch the pork for ten minutes and cut in small dice.  Fry the raw shallots and garlic in oil until light brown. Add the pork and fry it until cooked it begins to brown; if you have pork skin in the mix, be sure to use a spatter shield or a lid over the pork while it is frying, since the pork skin is liable to explode and shoot all over. Add the fried shallots and all of the sauce ingredients, topping it off with enough boiling water to cover. Bring the pot to a boil, reduce the heat to maintain a gentle simmer, cover, and let it cook for about half an hour. 

3. Taste and adjust the flavor with salt, wine, and sugar as needed. Add the eggs, bring the pot to a boil again, and then let it simmer uncovered for about 30 minutes. Allow the sauce to come to room temperature, cover, and refrigerate overnight for best flavor. Try to submerge the eggs so that they obtain an even golden color.

4. The next day or - even better - after a couple of days, scrape most of the fat off of the top (if you want) before bringing the pork and eggs to a boil again; reduce it to a gentle simmer and cook uncovered for about an hour, turning the eggs occasionally so that they tan evenly. (If you cook the eggs with the cover on, they will get a honeycomb effect throughout the egg whites and will become tough.) Remove the eggs from the sauce and bring the pork and sauce to a boil to reduce it to about ¼ to ½ cup.

5. To serve, place about a cup of hot steamed rice in a large soup bowl, and put an egg on top of the rice and a mound of the pork next to it along with a couple slices of pickled daikon. Dribble a bit of the sauce over the pork and egg. Dust with some chopped cilantro and serve.

Variations: This pork is great on a variety of things, from fried eggplant to blanched bean sprouts to blanched Chinese chives. Leftovers can be used to top a simple egg omelet, tossed with cooked eggplant, or ladled on top of a bowl of hot noodles soup. Consider making a double amount of the pork and freezing it in 1-cup bags so that you can have lunch or dinner in the time it takes to boil your noodles.

Lovely, lovely eggs

Tip on making a balanced hard-boiled egg: This is one of those cooking secrets that sounds so obvious once you hear it. Just gently stir the eggs as they come to a boil, so that the raw yolk is moving around in the egg while the whites start to set up. Also, use medium heat rather than high heat to boil the eggs, which gives the eggs time to set up evenly. 

Taiwanese braised pork over rice

The other day we were absolutely starved, and since the restaurant we normally patronize in a Chinese strip mall was still taking its afternoon siesta, we hunted around for something else to eat. The sign for one place looked promising: home-style Taiwanese food. Visions of the great street food we used to enjoy in Taipei danced in our head, and we were almost giddy at the thought of having some oyster rolls, fish ball soup, sesame oil chicken, and braised pork over rice.

Our hopes and ravenous taste buds were dashed with equal force when the waiter said that they didn't have any of those dishes, either on the menu or because they weren't in stock. The wall was plastered with handwritten signs for fried intestines, stinky tofu, and other delicacies, none of which particularly appealed to our short tempers and grumbling stomachs. So, we ordered a bunch of other items that were barely edible and not particularly memorable except for their extravagant prices.

And I started to wonder, why can't I get some of Taiwan's greatest street foods around here? There certainly are enough Taiwanese in the Bay Area to warrant a try, and I bet if any clever restaurateur put a good bowl of that porky manna from heaven called lurou fan before a homesick Taiwanese, he or she would have a customer for life.

See the secret to good hard-boiled eggs below

Utterly dissatisfied with my meal, but with my memories and appetite kicked into full gear, I went grocery shopping on my way home. 

Right after I walked in the door, I got out my wok and whipped up one of those staples of Taiwanese street food, the kind of food that grandmas used to have bubbling on the stove and sending out puffs of deliriously delicious fragrances out of apartment windows, one of those dishes that you swear you can smell in your dreams. 

The good thing is that it's not hard to make, it's great to have on hand, and anyone who likes pork and soy sauce will fall in love. As in the traditional recipes, the pork is served with a hard-boiled egg that has simmered in the pork sauce, as well as a bright round of Japanese pickled daikon. 

In our house, we have one person who will eat as many eggs as he can get away with. (One time I made a dozen eggs like these and came upon him in the kitchen happily polishing off egg #9.) I therefore make lots more eggs that these recipes usually call for. Feel free to double or triple the amount of hard-boiled eggs; your only limitation is the sauce that needs to cover them, and the recipe can be doubled or tripled, as well. I have some suggestions below on how to get your eggs to end up with a yolk that is balanced in the center, rather than clinging to one side and subjecting the white to tearing.

Frying shallots for a toasty flavor

There is also a recipe here for fried shallots, a prized seasoning in Taiwanese cooking. If you can, double the recipe and use the crispy little rings in your eggs, over noodles, on top of soups or even salads, and anywhere that could benefit from their subtle oniony punch and crunch. The oil the shallots were fried in is wonderful too, and is one of Chinese cuisine's traditional finishing oils, or mingyou, that are sprinkled over dishes to add a nice sheet and touch of flavor. Store this oil in the fridge, and keep a bit of it in a squirt bottle next to the stove.

Back to the star of the show, though. The resulting pork and sauce is served over a bowl of steaming rice with an egg (or three), a sprinkle of chopped cilantro, and a couple slices of that neon yellow Japanese daikon pickle known as takuan. This last fillip is probably a leftover from Taiwan's colonial days, when the Japanese ruled the roost. The politics of the matter aside, Japan left its cuisine behind in good hands, for this touch of color and piquant flavor is nothing less than perfect.

Eat it and weep... with delight.

Diced braised pork over rice
Lurou fan   滷肉飯  
Southern Fujian, Taiwan

Serves 6 to 8 as part of a multicourse meal

Fried shallots:
1 cup thinly-sliced shallots or small onions

2 cups fresh vegetable or peanut oil

Braised pork and eggs:

Fried shallots and mingyou

2 pounds fresh pork (try to get a ratio of two parts lean to one part fat)
½ cup garlic, chopped
½ cup shallots, chopped
The fried shallots (see above)
6 tablespoons peanut oil
Boiling filtered water as needed

6 to 8 hard-boiled eggs, peeled

Sauce:
4 tablespoon tasty peanut butter, chunky or smooth
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 star anise
½ teaspoon five spice powder
1 teaspoon freshly-ground black pepper
½ cup light soy sauce
¾ cup Taiwanese rice wine (Mijiu) 
Rock sugar to taste (or about the size of a walnut)
4 cups boiling filtered water

Final touches:
6 to 8 cups hot steamed rice
Pickled Japanese daikon (takuan), sliced
Chopped cilantro

1. Start this dish at least a day before you want to serve it. First make the fried shallots. Separate the sliced shallots (or onions) into rings so that they fry quickly and evenly. Heat the oil in a wok over medium high heat until a wooden or bamboo chopstick inserted into the oil is immediately covered with bubbles. Sprinkle in the shallots, reduce the heat to medium, and slowly fry them until they turn a golden brown, stirring often so that they do not burn or cook unevenly. Remove the fried shallots to a plate, strain the oil, and use that as a finishing oil, or mingyou, in other dishes.

Fried pork, garlic, and shallots

2. Blanch the pork for ten minutes and cut in small dice.  Fry the raw shallots and garlic in oil until light brown.  Add the pork and fry it until cooked it begins to brown; if you have pork skin in the mix, be sure to use a spatter shield or a lid over the pork while it is frying, since the pork skin is liable to explode and shoot all over.  Add the fried shallots and all of the sauce ingredients, topping it off with enough boiling water to cover.  Bring the pot to a boil, reduce the heat to maintain a gentle simmer, cover, and let it cook for about half an hour. 

3. Taste and adjust the flavor with salt, wine, and sugar as needed.  Add the eggs, bring the pot to a boil again, and then let it simmer uncovered for about 30 minutes.  Allow the sauce to come to room temperature, cover, and refrigerate overnight for best flavor.  Try to submerge the eggs so that they obtain an even golden color.

4. The next day or -- even better -- after a couple of days, scrape most of the fat off of the top (if you want) before bringing the pork and eggs to a boil again; reduce it to a gentle simmer and cook uncovered for about an hour, turning the eggs occasionally so that they tan evenly.  (If you cook the eggs with the cover on, they will get a honeycomb effect throughout the egg whites and will become tough.)  Remove the eggs from the sauce and bring the pork and sauce to a boil to reduce it to about ¼ to ½ cup.

5. To serve, place about a cup of hot steamed rice in a large soup bowl, and put an egg on top of the rice and a mound of the pork next to it along with a couple slices of pickled daikon.  Dribble a bit of the sauce over the pork and egg.  Throw some chopped cilantro on top and serve.

Perfect boiled eggs

Variations.  This pork is great on a variety of things, from fried eggplant to blanched bean sprouts to blanched Chinese chives.  Leftovers can be used to top a simple egg omelet, tossed with cooked eggplant, or ladled on top of a bowl of hot noodles soup.  Consider making a double amount of the pork and freezing it in 1-cup bags so that you can have lunch or dinner in the time it takes to boil your noodles.

Tip on making a balanced hard-boiled egg: This is one of those cooking secrets that sounds so obvious once you hear it. Just gently stir the eggs as they come to a boil, so that the raw yolk is moving around in the egg while the whites start to set up. Also, use medium heat rather than high heat to boil the eggs, which gives the eggs time to set up evenly.