Daliang's gift: crab stir-fried with milk

Many Chinese people have difficulty digesting milk in any form, and it is difficult to say whether lactose intolerance is the reason that dairy products never gained much of a foothold in China, or whether it was because cattle require large expanses of grass for fodder, and arable land has always been in short supply around there, and so Chinese people never developed any particular need to digest milk. Whatever the reason, milk has never been a part of most Chinese cuisines, even peripherally, which is why lard has always been favored here over butter.

But as with any hard and fast rule, there are exceptions.

In southeastern China, whole milk is boiled until a skin forms on the surface; this is then removed, stretched out, and dried to form “milk fans” (乳扇 rŭshàn) that have a texture and use similar to bean curd skins and tofu batons, which makes sense, since both the milk and the soy milk are treated the same way. 

Out in the arid regions of western China, the yogurt and kefir of Central Asia has made its way into the local cuisines; in fact, one of the most divine yogurts I ever tasted was in Xinjiang’s capital, Ürümqi – rich and creamy, this took all of my attention away from the whole roasted lamb that was the nominal guest of honor, and I told the waitresses to keep the yogurt supply coming while everyone else tore into the meat.

Use the best full-fat milk here

The most unusual devotion to dairy here, though, lies in the Pearl River Delta of Guangdong, because unlike everywhere else in China, the milk there is consumed fresh, but with that inevitable Chinese twist, of course.

Centering around the magnificent local food capital of Shunde is an area called Daliang, which boasts a culture that prizes dairy cattle like none other in China. Milk is transformed into sweet, trembling puddings there by gelatinizing them with fresh ginger juice, rather than eggs or thickeners, resulting in a monumentally tender confection. The local egg custard is a clever creation called “double-skinned milk” because the milk is boiled until a skin forms, and then the hot milk underneath is sweetened and solidified with the addition of egg whites, which keep the custard a snowy white and add only the faintest suggestion of eggs to the dessert. There's also deep-fried milk, which actually is yet another type of custard that is chilled, cut into batons, and then fried in a batter. (Yes, it's insanely good.)

Strangest by far, but also one of the most delicious, is the Daliang dish called “stir-fried milk.” As with that double-skinned custard, only egg whites are added, and this lends a certain mystery to the final creation because you really are not that sure what is going on in there until you read the recipe.

Different approaches to this dish abound in the Pearl River Delta – some feature shrimp or pork or chicken, for example – but I love this crab-studded version with tiny bits of charcuterie to wake the palate out of any reveries that threaten to take this over the edge from subtle into somnolent.

The milk beginning to curdle

One change I've made to the original recipe is the addition of toasted almonds instead of the traditional little tropical nuts called lǎnrén 欖仁, or Indian olive, because I just haven’t seen them much around here. But have no fear because they taste faintly of almonds, and so toasted shredded almonds work perfectly here as a substitute, lending a nice textural contrast and depth of flavor to these gentle pillows.

Serve this as a main dish, if you like, but I rather enjoy it as a first course in small bowls, as they lend a sense of wonder to the meal and make my guests even hungrier for the food that is to come.

Crab stir-fried with milk 
Dàliáng chǎo níunǎi 大良炒牛奶 
Guangdong

Serves 2 to 6 

Almonds:

1 tablespoon (or so) fresh peanut or vegetable oil

¼ cup sliced almonds

Milk:

½ cup whole milk

1 tablespoon cornstarch

Crab:

1 cup cooked crabmeat (fresh best, frozen second, and canned a distant third place)

3 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil, divided, plus more if needed

½ Chinese sausage (lop cheong)

5 large egg whites

Sprinkle of sea salt

¼ teaspoon mushroom seasoning or fish sauce (see Tips)

Luscious fat inside the crab shell

1. First toast the almonds by filming the bottom of a wok (see first Tip below) with a tablespoon or so of oil before adding the almonds; toss the almonds over medium heat – adjusting the heat as necessary – until they are a golden color and smell toasted. Scoop them out onto a plate covered with a paper towel.

2. Bring the milk to a boil (either in a saucepan on the stove or in a measuring cup in the microwave), let it cool down until just warm to the touch, and stir in the cornstarch.

3. Pick over the crabmeat carefully, removing any shells or cartilage, but keep the meat in pieces as large as possible. Toss in about 1 tablespoon of oil and a pinch of salt.

4. Cut the lop chong into small (⅛-inch or smaller) dice. Place them in a wok or pan without any oil and fry them until they render their fat and are lightly crispy. Remove them to a plate covered with a paper towel and wipe out the wok.

5. Lightly beat the egg whites until they are broken apart and only very slightly foamy. Stir in the milk mixture, crab, fried lop chong, and mushroom seasoning or fish sauce. Prepare your serving bowl or small individual bowls next to the stove, warming them first, if possible.

6. Heat the rest of the oil in the wok over medium heat until it starts to shimmer, and then pour in the crab mixture. Use a silicone or wood spatula to stir the crab gently around over the heat, making sure to run the spatula along the bottom of the wok to keep the milk from burning. As the liquid heats, it will start to form curds. Drizzle in a bit more oil around the edge if it starts to stick. As soon as the liquid has turned into curds, immediately scoop it out into the bowl(s); if there is extra liquid, drain it off and enjoy it yourself, since it tastes great but doesn't look very nice. Sprinkle the crab with the toasted almonds and serve with spoons.

Tips

Confession time: I like to use a small (8-inch) restaurant-style frying pan here instead of a wok because nothing sticks to it after years of using it mainly for eggs; use whatever pan or wok you like, but be sure that  your wok doesn't have any black crud in it that will flake off and mar your beautiful crabby clouds. 

If you were wondering what to do with the body from the Savory Crab and Cellophane Noodles, this is one of my favorite suggestions. This dish can easily be doubled if you have two crab bodies left over, or if you want to serve more of this dreamy dish.

One thing really nice about making this with crab that you have to shell yourself is that you get to keep all of the good stuff like the fatty tomalley. For this reason, I don't let the fishmonger clean the crab for me, as she's just washing away the best part of the crab. 

To clean a whole cooked Dungeness yourself, first pull off the legs, crack them lightly with the butt of a knife, and set them aside. Turn the crab over and pull off the thin plate. (Only male Dungeness crabs are sold – we love our fertile females! – so you'll never find one with a triangular plate around here.) Then turn the crab right-side up and pull off the top of the crab over a bowl, reserving the juices. Pull off and discard the feathery lungs on both sides of the body. 

Chinese mushroom seasoning

Everything else in there besides the cartilage and shell is edible, so reserve and enjoy what you like and add them to this dish. If there is a lot of liquid and/or fat in your crab, you might need to add more cornstarch to the dish to make it solidify correctly. But if you end up with too much liquid anyway, just do as I do and surreptitiously drain it off into a bowl for yourself to enjoy.

The savory bits in this recipe can be swapped with happy abandon. Try some roasted duck, slivers of ham, or tasty mushrooms instead of the lop chong.

The mushroom seasoning here is a great addition to your pantry, as it offers extra umami kick without all sorts of additives. It is sort of like bouillon, but is not as salty, and it should contain no MSG or meat products. See the photo on the right for the brand I use. If you can't find it, use fish sauce.

Ginger milk pudding

Milk and China don't seem like an obvious pair. In fact, many of my Chinese friends are so lactose intolerant that they can't even enjoy ice cream. But there is one place in southern China -- one village, to be exact -- where milk is turned into the most amazing dishes. And what's more, these turn out to be impeccably Chinese.

Located south of the capital city of Guangzhou in Guangdong province, the Shunde district boasts one of the most famous schools of Cantonese cooking. Shunde is nestled in the Pearl River delta, a land of inventive fish, chicken, and pork dishes. Freshness is most likely the defining characteristic of the local foods, and so classic creations like White Cut Chicken (baiqie ji, the bird gently poached and served with simple but pungent dipping sauces) and simple steamed seafood draped with aromatics are what first come to my mind when I think of Shunde.

Bamboo teeth

But there is a small place there called Daliang where cow's milk has taken hold of the imagination and is turned into sweet and savory creations that baffle the mind and delight the palate.  

Stir-fried Milk (chao xian nai), which combines fresh milk and egg whites to form a light custard, results in a pure white pillow that cossets bits of fresh shrimp, chicken, crab, or whatever the chef takes particular pleasure in that day. It is one of the most comforting foods imaginable, sort of like nursery food for a baby emperor, but also so terribly sophisticated that I could see someone like the Duchess of Windsor devouring it with glee.

Ginger fibers left behind

As can be imagined, milk is also given a sweet turn in a number of the local specialties, like Deep Fried Milk (zha niunai); here, the milk is thickened with cornstarch and flour, and the resulting batter is cooled, cut, and fried, so that the crunchy outside contrasts with a molten interior. A light sugar dusting completes the dish.

Another is Double Skinned Milk (shuangpi nai), which is a true custard of sorts that celebrates the skin which forms on boiled milk as it cools. Like I said, these really are impeccably Chinese, and so things that Westerners care little about -- like the skin of milk or the skin of fish -- are often treasured mainly for their texture in Chinese cuisine.

Squeeze out the juice

Today we're going to enjoy a purely magical dish called Ginger Milk Pudding (jiangzhi zhuang nai, literally "ginger juice bumping milk"). You have to try this if for no other reason than to prove to yourself that fresh ginger juice really causes hot milk to gel up into a perfectly soft and creamy pudding.

Fresh ginger juice is a snap to make. All you need is a coarse grater and a fine sieve. I adore my bamboo ginger grater, which you can find in some Chinese hardware stores, but any good grater will do. If you do get your hands on a bamboo grater, beware of its sharp teeth, which do an admirable job of separating the stringy fibers in the ginger from its fleshy pulp, as well as the flesh from your knuckles.

With agave nectar

Some Chinese recipe books will tell you to wrap the grated ginger in muslin and squeeze out the juice. I've always found that too much bother. I just scoop the ginger into one hand and squeeze it dry over a fine strainer placed inside of a small measuring cup, and keep grating and squeezing until I have the amount needed. A juicer could be used, too, but that would call for cleaning the machine, and I think that's too much bother, too. Hence the grater and the sieve.

Traditionally, sugar is used in this pudding, but agave nectar provides an additional subtle layer to this dish, and I have taken the liberty of drizzling a little more on top to add a final punctuation to the silky surface. A tiny pinch of salt is also something I like here; it's virtually undetectable, but adds a slight balance to the sweetness.

Use the absolutely best full cream milk you can find. If it is at all possible, get something local and impossibly fresh. Like all dishes where one ingredient is the star, use the finest quality you can because there's no place for that ingredient to hide.

This is served warm according to traditional recipes, but chilled is to my mind beyond delicious. The pudding takes on a firmer texture in the fridge and becomes even silkier. It's startlingly good this way.

Whenever you're having children over, make sure to have them help you with this because it really is kitchen magic.

Ingredients

Ginger milk pudding 
Jiangzhi zhuang nai 薑汁撞奶  
Guangdong
Makes 4 servings

1 large finger of fresh ginger, either young or brown-skinned (see Tips)
Large pinch of sea salt
4 tablespoons agave nectar, plus more for the topping, or sugar to taste (see Tips)
2 cups fresh, organic, full fat milk

1. Grate the ginger. Squeeze the pulp over a fine grater placed on top of a small measuring cup until you have 4 tablespoons of ginger juice. Set out 4 dessert bowls with little more than half a cup capacity. Stir the juice and pour a tablespoon into each bowl (see Tips).

2. Add a small pinch of salt to each bowl, as well as a tablespoon of the agave nectar, or a teaspoon or more of sugar.

Yogurt-y texture

3. Heat the milk in the microwave or on the stove until it almost boils, and then pour half a cup of the hot milk into each of the bowls. Don't stir the milk, as it will mix with the ginger juice and sweeteners as it pours into the bowl. Let the bowls set up, which only takes a minute, and don't stir or disturb them. Serve the puddings either warm or cold with a swirl of agave nectar on top, if desired.


Tips


Try to select the plumpest, heaviest "hands" of ginger you can find, as these have the most juice. Hawai'ian ginger is good and often is organic.

Younger ginger will have a very mild heat, and older ginger will of course be hotter. Both are good, so use what is available and what you like.

Ginger juice portioned out

Grate the unpeeled ginger over a small saucer to collect all of the juice and pulp. 

Please use full fat milk that is the best you can find, as you'll taste the difference. I am extremely fond of Straus Family cream top milk, which comes from California's northern coast.

Honey is tasty here, but it doesn't dissolve fast enough when the hot milk hits to blend into the pudding. Also, if you pour it on top of the cold or cool pudding, it seizes up into a sticky clump. Agave nectar behaves well.