Red-cooked double winter pork

I have a long-standing and very passionate affair with Zhejiang’s cuisine. I mean, I adore the foods of Jiangsu and the whole Yangtze River area’s foods, but something about Zhejiang just equals excellence in my book.

A lot of this has to do with their love for Shaoxing rice wine. It has a gorgeous sherry flavor that insinuates itself into every morsel, no matter whether that particular dish has been braised, stewed, or steamed. Stir-fries are not that big a deal here because the connoisseurs there tend to enjoy their meats and poultry as tender chunks filled with the flavor that only time and low heat can create.

This dish, red-cooked double winter pork, is an old friend. "Double winter" means that it has winter bamboo shoots (the big and meaty ones, not the long, slender spring shoots) and winter mushrooms, which is the Chinese name for black mushrooms, aka shiitakes. Get fresh shoots and mushrooms if at all possible, as they are both in season now at busier Chinese markets. 

This is simply excellent pork belly!

For the pork, hunt down a great butcher shop. I want you to take a long, hard look at the pork I'm using here: look at the striations of fat and muscle. That equals tenderness. Don't settle for bellies that are massive blocks of red and white -- those will be tough and boring. 

Also, notice that this belly has skin on it. Skin equals collagen equals stickiness on the lips. You want this, I promise. My favorite place in the Bay Area for great pork belly is The Local Butcher in Berkeley -- that's also where Chez Panisse gets its meat, so you'll be in good company. 

We used to enjoy this dish in homestyle places in Taiwan before we got to know the amazing culinary palaces that sprung up in Taipei during the late Seventies and early Eighties. Those were the best years to eat there, for the great chefs were finally hitting their stride, but they were also nearing retirement age, so this was a short-lived last hurrah for the truly classic dishes of that area. About the only place you can enjoy things like this anymore is at home, so give this one a try. See if you don’t fall in love, too.

Parboiling the fresh bamboo shoots

Red-cooked double winter pork

Hóngshāo shuāngdōng ròu 紅燒雙冬肉

Zhejiang cuisine

Serves 6 to 8

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

1 inch | 30 g fresh ginger, thinly sliced

Around 8 ounces | 250 g fresh pork belly

1 bunch scallions, trimmed, with the white and green parts separated; or, half a small onion plus a fistful of onion greens

About 10 ounces | 300 g fresh black mushrooms (xiānggū), or a dozen dried black mushrooms soaked until pliable

2 large winter bamboo shoots, fresh or frozen and defrosted

Boiling water, as needed

¾ cup | 180 ml Shaoxing rice wine

2 ounces | 60 g rock sugar

2 tablespoons regular soy sauce

1. Set a wok over medium-low heat and add the oil. Toss in the ginger as soon as the oil starts to shimmer. While the ginger is slowly browning, slice the pork belly into cubes about 1 inch | 2 cm wide, and then add them to the wok.

2. As the pork sizzles away, prep the mushrooms by removing the stems and saving them for something else. If you have nice, fresh, fat caps, simply tear them in halves or thirds so that you can revel in their meaty texture. Or, cut them into ½-inch | 1-cm slices. Add these to the pork, toss them around, and add the rice wine, rock sugar, and about 1 quart | 1 liter boiling water. Roughly chop the scallion whites or the onion and toss that in, too. Don’t add the soy sauce at this point, as it tends to toughen the pork. Bring the liquid to a boil, then reduce the heat, and cover the wok.

Fresh, meaty mushroom caps

3. Once you have done that, prepare the bamboo shoots: If you’re using fresh ones, cut off the bases and remove the tough sheath. Trim off any brown or hard areas, and then cut the shoot lengthwise into quarters, and then crosswise on the diagonal into ½-inch | 1-cm slices. Place these in a saucepan and cover with boiling water. Simmer the shoots for about 10 minutes. Taste a small piece, and if it is not bitter, drain the shoots and add them to the pork. If it's still bitter, then repeat the parboiling process. If you’re using defrosted bamboo, simply cut them into ½-inch | 1-cm slices, parboil for about 10 minutes, drain, and add to the pork. Cover the wok again and simmer over low heat for about an hour. Turn off the heat and, if you have the time, let the mixture rest for a couple of hours so that the flavors get a chance to marry.

4. About half an hour before serving, add the soy sauce and bring the pan to a full boil. Quickly boil the sauce down until it is thick and luscious. Taste the sauce and adjust the seasoning as you wish. You can also make this dish up to this point and refrigerate or freeze it for later on. It only needs to be heated through (preferably by steaming) and sprinkled with the thinly sliced scallion greens before it’s served.

How to successfully endure a chilly SF night

The Chinese name for this Zhejiang dish is Pork Belly with Dried Squid and Eggs. 

I know, the main ingredients don’t make this sound especially enticing. But believe me, this is the sort of thing that gives you a reason to celebrate a cold, foggy evening with its rich flavors, complex textures, and utterly homey vibe. The Chinese word for umami is xiān 鮮, which is a fish next to a goat. In other words, it’s the combination of two very nuanced flavors that amplify and complement each other.

Gorgeous pork belly

Pork belly really doesn’t need a whole lot of explanation here. It’s simply fresh bacon that’s been given a bow tie and spats. As it simmers away in a braising sauce perfumed with way too much Shaoxing rice wine, some warm spices, good soy sauce, and a touch of sugar, this is bacon that has died and gone to heaven.

The dried squid is there to supply a sensuous textural contrast to the pork, its gentile tensile nature sidling up perfectly against the custardy meat, but you can use fresh squid if you can't find the dried ones; just prep them and toss them in at the end so that the squid barely has time to curl up a bit, as this will keep them tender. You'll notice that this recipe does not ask you to cut the squid into blossoms, like we did for this recipe. That is because the dried squid can be cooked until it's tender here, and so it really doesn't need to be fiddled with. If you opt for fresh squid here, cutting them into blossoms would be a fine touch. 

Soaked cuttlefish ready to go

By the time you serve this dish, the fat layers in the pork have surrendered any semblance of greasiness and have turned into savory strata that remind me of the silkiest butter as they slide across your tongue. The eggs will have absorbed all of those rich flavors and turn into pure xianwei bombs. And the squid has lent its suggestion of the sea to everything while maintaining a good bit of structure. This is seduction food, pure and simple.

Pork Belly with Dried Squid and Eggs
Mòyú dàkào jiā dàn  墨魚大㸆加蛋
Zhejiang
Serves 4 to 6 as part of a multi-course meal  

3 (8-inch long) dried squid, or thereabouts

Tap and boiling water, as needed

8 large eggs

1½ pounds (more or less) pork belly with the skin on

2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil

5 green onions

2 inches fresh ginger

1 or 2 large shallots, optional

1 cup Shaoxing rice wine

2 whole star anise

Half a stick of cinnamon, optional

¼ cup regular soy sauce

1 tablespoon dark soy sauce

1 tablespoon (or so) rock sugar

1. Start this recipe about 4 days before you plan to serve it. First soak the squid in cool tap water for about an hour. Rinse the squid, place it in a resealable plastic bag, cover it with fresh cool water, and refrigerate the squid for 3 days, changing the water once a day, if you remember. Drain the squid in a colander set in the sink and then remove the clear cuttlebone in each squid. Slice off the triangular tip and then cut the bodies into squares around 1 to 2 inches wide. Cut the tentacles into lengths around 2 inches long.

Remove the glassine cuttlebone

2. Boil the eggs for about 8 minutes, drain, cover with cool water, and then tap the shells all over. Peel the eggs when they are cool and then refrigerate.

3. The day before you plan to serve this, remove any hairs on the pork belly and freeze it for an hour or so to firm up the fat and make it easier to handle. Cut the pork down through the skin into large batons around ¾ inch wide and thick; they will be around 2 inches long and should have a piece of skin at the end of each piece.

4. Place the pork in a medium saucepan and cover with water. Bring the water to a full boil over high heat and then simmer the meat for around 10 minutes. Rinse the scum off of the pork and pan. Drain the pork well. Place the cuttlefish in the pan, cover with water, and bring this to a boil. Simmer the cuttlefish for about a minute, and then rinse and drain it well.

5. Cut the green onions into 2-inch lengths, smash the ginger with the side of your cleaver, and slice the optional shallots into ¼ pieces. Set a medium to large sandpot (or a wok) on the stove. Pour in the oil, heat the pot over medium heat, and then add the drained pork, green onions, ginger, and shallots. Toss these in the hot oil until they are lightly browned, adjusting the heat as necessary. Pour in the rice wine, bring the pot to a full boil, and then add boiling water to cover. Toss in the star anise and cinnamon, cover the pot, and lower the heat to achieve a gentle simmer. Cook the pot covered for around 45 minutes.

Shaoxing wine: the secret ingredient

6. Add the squid and eggs to the pot, as well as both kinds of soy sauce and the sugar. Cover the pork with more boiling water as needed and bring the pot to a full boil. Lower the heat to return to a gentle simmer and cook the dish uncovered for about an hour. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Continue to simmer the ingredients if the pork and squid are not yet completely tender, but they should be done by now. When they are as you like them, quickly reduce the sauce to a thick syrup by boiling the pot over high heat, shaking often to keep the pork from sticking, but not stirring so that you don't break apart the meat batons. Remove the pot from the heat, let it come to room temperature, cover the pot, and refrigerate overnight.

7. Just before serving, scrape off the congealed fat and use it for stir-frying, if you like, as it is delicious. Slowly heat the pot over low heat until the sauce has melted, and the raise the heat to medium. Heat through the pork, then remove it from the heat and serve very hot with lots of rice or steamed bread.

   

What's better than bacon? Stuffed Hakka bacon!

Major feast dishes in the Hakka repertoire are fairly rare, as most of it is down-home cooking meant for family meals. But the ones that Hakka families wheel out for weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations will almost always include this dish.

           

Pork belly is also known as fresh bacon, and it actually comes from the side of the pig where there’s still muscle weaving in and out of the fat layers. This part of the animal doesn’t get worked a whole lot, and so the fat builds up easily here.

The best pork belly will have distinct, thin layers of skin, then fat, meat, fat, meat, fat, and then meat. That last layer of meat is usually trimmed off and used for something else because it is not that tender, so you are left with five layers under the skin, which is why the Chinese call this cut wŭhuāròu 五花肉, or five-patterned meat.

Mmmm, bacon

Whenever you select this type of meat, try to avoid pieces that are on the edges, which will give you either too much fat or thick layers of meat. You really want to have that nice streaking, believe me. Just think of your perfect slice of bacon…

           

This dish originated around the Shaoxing area of Jiangsu, where it is still popular, although sweeter and more redolent with Shaoxing rice wine than what is made in Hakka households.

The “plum vegetable” or meicai that is used in both places is quite different, with the Hakka style usually sold in whole hanks, while Shaoxing style meicai comes chopped and is slightly drier. 

Among the two versions of this dish, I actually prefer this Hakka one, perhaps because it reminds me so much of my late father-in-law’s cooking. The greens end up tender and almost buttery, much more delicious than any of the Shaoxing style greens I've used. They require a much shorter cooking time and lend an almost exquisite lightness to the dish. I'm sure I'm prejudiced, being a Hakka daughter-in-law, but there you have it. 

Hakka style meicai

The difficulty lies in finding the meicai. I lucked upon a supplier in Chinatown who had a box of meicai from the town of Huìzhōu 惠州, which is in the heart of Cantonese Hakka country. What heaven!

Pork belly with preserved mustard greens

Méicài kòuròu  梅菜扣肉

Hakka
Serves 4

Pork:

1 pound good pork belly (fresh bacon) with the skin on

Boiling water as needed

1 tablespoon dark soy sauce

½ cup peanut or vegetable oil (used okay here)

Fry the meicai

Greens:

8 ounces (or so) preserved Hakka-style mustard greens (meicai)

Filtered water

2 tablespoons fresh peanut or vegetable oil

5 tablespoons rice wine (mijiu)

1 to 2 tablespoons regular soy sauce

2 tablespoons sugar

3 green onions, trimmed

10 thin slices (¼ cup) fresh ginger

1. This dish is best a day or two after you make it, as the sauce can then penetrate the meat; it will also allow you to remove the congealed fat before you steam it a final time. Rinse the pork belly and pat dry; you don’t have to worry about any fine hairs, as they will be burned off later, but thick hairs should be plucked out. Trim the pork so it is an even square or rectangle. Place the pork in a medium saucepan, cover it with water, and bring the water to a full boil over high heat. Lower the heat to medium and simmer the pork for about 10 minutes to remove any impurities. Drain the pork and let it cool down.

2. While the pork is cooling down, prepare the mustard greens: soak them in warm water until pliable, swishing them around and changing the water as many times as necessary to shake loose all of the sand nestled in the leaves, and then use a sharp knife chop them into small (½-inch or less) pieces. Rinse the mustard greens in a colander under running water a final time to remove any sand or dirt. Squeeze the greens dry and toss them with the oil, 2 tablespoons of the rice wine, regular soy sauce, and sugar. Heat a dry wok over medium-high heat and fry this mixture until most of the sauce has been absorbed.

3. Pat the cooled-down pork dry with a paper towel. Rub the skin all over with the dark soy sauce. Heat a frying pan over medium heat, add the oil, and then place the pork skin-side down in the hot fat (don’t fry the other sides of the meat) and fry the pork skin until it is a nice mahogany brown with bubbles and blisters all over the surface; use a spatter screen to protect you from flying fat while it fries. Remove the pork to a cutting board and let it cool down a bit.

Deep-fried skin

4. With the skin-side down on the board, use a sharp knife to cut down through the meat and fat all the way up to—but not through—the skin, making ¼-inch wide slices all the way down the piece of pork; of course, you may adjust the number of cuts to match the number of people who will be dining. Place the pork skin-side down into a heatproof 4-cup bowl.

5. Stuff the pork slices with the greens, packing in as much as possible into and around the meat. Cut the green onions into 1-inch pieces and arrange them on top along with the ginger slices. Pour the rest of the rice wine over everything. Place the bowl in a steamer and steam over medium heat for 4 hours.

6. Remove the pork from the steamer, cool it to room temperature, and turn the pork over so that it is skin-side up. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for one or two days.  Remove most of the fat from the sauce, if desired. Taste the sauce and adjust the seasoning one last time. Place a rimmed plate over the bowl and invert the bowl onto the plate; carefully lift off the bowl. Pour the sauce around and over the meat, and serve immediately with hot steamed rice.

Amazing Hakka salt pork, green garlic & leeks

In the last post here, we talked about Chinese charcuterie and, more importantly perhaps, about how to make your very own Hakka-style salt pork.

 Now we're going to look at ways to transform those crusty coils sleeping in your fridge into dishes that are so good they practically defy description. But I'll try...

The only thing you really need to do with this cured pork is rinse it, slice it, and cook it. No seasoning is needed. At. All. 

You will find that these gorgeous porky slices embody just about everything you will ever want in a savory dish: meaty flavor, delectable fat, even-handed seasoning, and an enticing aroma. 

All you need to do is summon up a supporting cast. And since none of these are truly recipes -- more on the order of tossing things together -- I will just provide some general guidelines.

Green garlic

At the top here is a picture of a lovely breakfast or brunch dish that does complete justice to the salt pork: eggs and thinly sliced green garlic, as well as just a bit of oil to hasten the browning process. I added absolutely no other seasonings, and the dish was amazingly balanced.

Green garlic is available now around here for a brief couple of weeks, and I urge you to try this if you haven't already. 

At this stage in its life, garlic looks and acts a whole lot like leeks, which are their city cousins. Green garlic is much more rustic and yet also much more fleeting, as the stalks soon dry and brown as the garlic head matures.

Browned cured pork & leeks

When you buy either green garlic or leeks, look of course at the root end; the leeks especially should have plump white rootlets, while the garlic will withstand a little more manhandling due to its aspirations to grow up into a fat bulb. 

Most importantly, check the center of the leaves: do not buy either kind of allium if there is a flower stalk, which usually looks like a solid green stick. 

What does the flower mean? That the leek/garlic is already woody and tough, the leaves are getting ready to shrivel, and you will end up with very little to work with once you remove the stem.

Cured pork strips

To make this dish for two people, remove and discard the skin from half of a strip of the salt pork, slice the pork thinly against the grain, and then brown it over medium heat along with about 2 tablespoons oil. 

Wash and trim either two stalks of green garlic or one leek, making certain that there is no sand in between the leaves. Slice the green garlic or leeks very thinly on the bias and add to the browned pork. Stir them around over medium head until they wilt, and then add 3 or 4 eggs. Fry the eggs any way you like, and then serve up the dish.

A variation on this dish omits the eggs for a savory appetizer or beer snack or a nice side dish with plain congee: brown the sliced pork as explained above, add thinly sliced green onions or leeks, and then fry them together quickly with just a splash of rice wine to soften the veggies. 

Sliced cured pork

Finally, a very traditional Hakka way of enjoying salt pork is to trim and slice it as noted, and then steam the sliced pork on a plate it until done. 

Drain off the juices (save them for soup or a stir-fry, if you like) and serve the steamed pork with its fat still attached along with thinly sliced leeks or green garlic. 

The perfect dipping sauce for those who really want to scare off vampires is simply chopped garlic in vinegar. Save this dish for good friends you are not hoping to kiss.