Homemade Taiwanese mustard pickles

Home fermentation is way easier than it sounds. All you really need is a pickling crock and a weight to press things down nicely inside the crock, and you’re halfway home. 

A digital scale is also very helpful, if you have access to one of those, since it makes measuring things that much easier. But really, other than that, you just require sea salt, fresh vegetables, clean water, and time.

Make sure everything is squeaky clean, as the number one reason for pickles going south is that somewhere along the line contamination sneaked in. 

Check out this recipe for traditional Sichuan pickles on how to set up a pickle crock, where to get one, what they look like, and all that good stuff. 

Split open the cleaned heads

My secret to success is that I scrub the utensils and douse them with boiling water. My hands are washed thoroughly before I mess around with the pickles, and I ensure that the veggies completely air dry before they are salted. Plus, I like to add a small splash of white liquor to add flavor and a sort of bacterial Band-Aid.

I’m rewarded with pickles that taste the way they used to. Nowadays everything is made in such huge batches and then packaged for goodness knows how long. You really don’t know what is in that pickle, or how much and what kind of preservatives got used. With homemade, it’s all very simple and very natural.

In order to get a pretty yellow tinge, I've added fresh turmeric, about a finger or two will do it per batch. The amount doesn't really matter, as you won't taste it. And it is optional, in case you don't have access to it. Once the pickles are done, you can either remove the turmeric or keep it in.

Dry under the sun for a couple of days

The good news is that these pickles taste truly wonderful. They are not too sour, but rather gently tart and nicely flavorful. Unlike commercially made ones, you don't need to rinse off the extra salt or overpowering sourness. Instead, just pluck them out of the brine and slice away. They are even tasty raw!

The traditional way to use them in Taiwan is to stir-fry the pickles with dried chiles. Any way you cut them, though, these are delicious, with the tangy heat of mustard and the exceptional crunch of very happy vegetables.

Wilted mustard heads

Taiwanese mustard pickles

Táiwān suāncài 台灣酸菜

Taiwan cuisine

Makes as much as you want

Fresh head mustard

Coarse sea salt

Filtered water, boiled and cooled

Fresh turmeric, thinly sliced, optional

Gaoliang or gin

1. Start this recipe at least 3 weeks before you plan to serve it. If you have a digital scale, your job will be much easier, as the math will be that much easier to work with. Choose a sunny day to start this, as the mustard has to be sun-dried for 24 to 48 hours. Have a couple of clean flat baskets ready, or else cover your baking sheets with very clean tea towels.

Rub with salt

2. Weigh your mustard and write this down. Don’t throw that piece of paper away, since the remaining ingredients will depend upon it for accuracy. Rinse the mustard and cut the heads in half, or quarters if they are particularly large. Shake the mustard dry and lay it out on the baskets or towel-lined baking sheets in single layers. Sun-dry the mustard for 1 to 2 days, just until the leaves start to shrivel and the stems no longer look perky. Cover the mustard if you keep it out overnight. 

3. Prepare your pickling crock and the weights by cleaning and rinsing them very well. Place the weights in the crock and pour boiling water halfway up the crock. Dump out the water when it has cooled and air-dry the crock (as well as the weights) upside-down on a clean tea towel.

Weights on the mustard

4. Measure out your coarse salt: you will need 2.5% of the weight of your mustard. In other words, for every 1 kg you will need 25 g coarse salt. (If you don’t remember how to do this, multiply the total weight of the mustard by 0.025.) Place a head or two of the mustard in a large work bowl and scrub the mustard really well with the salt, as this will help release the juices and speed up the pickling. Transfer the raggedy mustard to the crock and repeat with the rest of the mustard and salt until they have all be used up. Add the optional turmeric.

5. Place the weights on the mustard and press down. Tuck in any pieces that are sticking above the weights, as a flatter surface will help cut down on spoilage. Cover the mustard and weights with cool water. This should be the original weight of the mustard times by about 0.7. (Or, around 700 ml cool water per 1 kg of mustard.) Sprinkle the top of the water with the gaoliang or gin, at a rate of 1 tablespoon per 1 kg of mustard.

Worth the minimal effort

6. Place the crock in a cool, dark area. Cover it and then pour water in the moat around the lid. Check the pickles after a couple of days, as they should start to smell a bit sour. Keep the water level around the lid high to prevent contamination. (If you use another type of pickling crock, follow package directions.) If you have a pickle crock with a moat, you will be rewarded with lots of farts within a day or two. As the farts die down, this means the fermentation is slowing down and the pickles are nearing perfection. Check them after about 3 weeks; cut off a piece and taste it. The pickle should taste tart and gently salty. When you're satisfied, transfer the pickles to sterilized Mason jars or brand new resealable plastic bags or some other spanking clean containers. Refrigerate the pickles in their juices until needed.

Tip

If the arithmetic seems confusing, think of it this way:

1 kg mustard

25 g sea salt

750 ml cool water

1 finger fresh turmeric

1 tablespoon gaoliang or gin

The greatest Taiwanese sandwich of all time: guabao

Taiwan is home to many great things to eat, and its street foods are some of the best around. In fact, any of my visits to Taipei seem to always center around breakfast at a soymilk joint, snacks at a street stall as I get hungry throughout the day, and evenings spent at the night market, where mainly Taiwanese delights – but also numerous Mainland favorites – can be had on the cheap.

One of my eternal loves is the perfect sammie known as the guabao. They have everything: pickled meets fresh, salty sidles nesweet, meaty matches up with vegetal, starch balances the protein, and against this all you have a combination of steamed, braised, stir-fried, raw, and toasted all in a small package. 

And even though they rarely disappoint no matter where they’re produced, I have to say, if I have a choice between eating them in a restaurant, a street stand, or at a Taiwanese grandma’s home, I always always always pick the grandma. And second choice is my house.

Mustard pickle and chiles

This is, in fact, perfect homestyle food, the kind of thing Chinese cooks seem to master as they age. 

Perhaps it’s because we have more time to slowly braise the pork, maybe it’s because the grandkids are coming over and we want to spoil them with a delicious snack, or perhaps it’s just that home cooking is almost always the best.

As Taiwanese as this dish is, though, it originally came from Fujian’s capital city of Fuzhou. You can taste the almost Dongpo Pork-style flavors of the rich, red-cooked pork shining through. 

And then there are the soft wrappers, a variation on mantou that are almost the spitting image of the Lotus Buns we made last week. Both of these point to more northern areas than the foods of the usual ancestor for most of Taiwan’s foods: Southern Fujian, and in particular the luscious city of Quanzhou.

A guabao wrapper

But ancestry aside, these are fun to make and even more fun to eat. I highly recommend preparing a batch of these for a party (multiply the recipes a couple of times if you’re expecting a crowd) because everything can be made ahead of time, and then all you have to do is simply heat up the meat and buns right before serving. 

The only relatively difficult thing required here is the making of the buns, but honestly, if you toss the dough together in a food processor as recommended, you’ll be done faster than you could possibly imagine.

Now, a word on nomenclature. The correct Taiwanese name for this sandwich is kua-pao 刈包, which in Mandarin is pronounced yìbāo, but which everybody now pronounces as guàbao as an approximation of that Taiwanese name. That’s why you’ll sometimes see this written in Chinese as guàbāo 掛包or gēbāo 割包. 

The funny thing is that it’s also called “tiger biting a pig” in Taiwanese (hoo-ka-ti 虎咬豬), I guess because it looks like a big tiger’s mouth with a nice slice of pork inside.

A classic

Be that as it may, in Taiwan this sandwich is traditionally served on the sixteenth day of the twelfth lunar month. That day is called Wĕiyá 尾牙, and is the year’s final day for making offerings to the Earth God. Some say that these sandwiches are shaped like tigers’ mouths so that they devour all the bad luck of the year. And then we devour the tigers. Circle of life. Hakuna matata.

Guabao

Makes 20 sandwiches (count on at least 2 per person)

Guàbāo 刈包

Fujian and Taiwan

Meat:

Around 2 pounds (900 g) good pork belly, preferably with the skin

Water, as needed

2 inches (5 cm) fresh ginger, thinly sliced

6 whole green onions

1½ cups (350 ml) Taiwan Mijiu, or other mild Chinese cooking rice wine

12 star anise

4 tablespoons rock sugar, or sugar to taste

¼ cup (60 ml) regular soy sauce

Mustard pickle:

1 pound (or so) pickled mustard (suāncài 酸菜, preferably from Taiwan)

¼ cup (60 ml) peanut or vegetable oil

2 dried Thai chiles, seeded and chopped

2 teaspoons sugar, or to taste

Peanuts:

1 cup finely chopped toasted peanuts, either oven toasted (see All Under Heaven) or deep-fried

2 tablespoons sugar

Roll out the wrapper

½ bunch of cilantro, cleaned, dried, and chopped

1 recipe lotus leaf buns (see Tips), steamed and hot

1. Start this recipe at least a day and up to a week ahead of time. Remove any hairs in the pig skin, freeze it for around half an hour to firm it up, and then slice it into around 20 pieces about 2 inches (5 cm) wide by ⅜ inch (10 mm) thick (see Tips). Place the pork in a saucepan, cover with water, bring the water to a full boil, and then lower the heat to a simmer. After about 10 minutes, discard the water and rinse off any scum on the pork and pan. Return the pork to the pan and add 2 cups (475 ml) water and the rest of the ingredients for the meat, except for the soy sauce. Bring the pan to a full boil, lower the heat to a simmer, and cook the pork for about 2 hours, or until it is tender but not falling apart, adding more water as necessary. When the pork is done, remove the star anise, ginger, and green onions, add the soy sauce, and then quickly boil down the liquid until it is thick and syrupy. Taste and adjust the seasoning as needed. Remove the pan from the heat, cool it to room temperature, and chill overnight or longer. About a half hour before serving, skim off the solid fat and then simmer the pork slowly in the reduced sauce until it is heated through, taking care not to burn the pork. 

 

Brush with oil and fold over

2. Up to a couple of days before serving, rinse off the mustard pickle, squeeze it dry, and then cut it crosswise into thin strips. Heat the oil in a wok or pan and add the chile peppers. When they start to sizzle, add the mustard pickle. Stir-fry them just to heat them through and remove the rawness. Season with the sugar and then scrape into a serving bowl. In a separate serving bowl, mix together the peanuts and sugar. Pile the cilantro in a third bowl. Arrange these three bowls on the dining table along with your baskets of hot buns and the steaming pork in its sauce.

3. Have each diner fill his or her own sandwiches. You can fill one first to show how it’s done. My preferred way of doing this (because it seems to make them more stable) is to open up a bun and place the mustard pickle on the bottom, followed by a slice of pork, then a sprinkle of peanuts and sugar (which will glue to the sauce on the pork), and then add a mound of cilantro. Close the bun around this and then devour.

Absolutely perfect pork belly

Tips

For this dish, don’t decorate the buns, but rather simply roll the dough out into a long oval and then fold it in half.

Don’t slice the pork too thinly, as it is important to prevent it from falling apart. You want each slice to be about the same width as the buns. 

Good quality pork belly is paramount here, so find an excellent butcher.

Try saving the rendered fat from the pork and using it for a stir-fry. Or, use it to fry up a couple of sunny-side-up eggs. Or do as my mother-in-law loved: melt some, drizzle it over a bowl of hot steamed rice, and season with some soy sauce. 

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