Showing posts with label soy skins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soy skins. Show all posts

Monday, December 28, 2015

A vegan's delicious secret weapon

Soy batons are not that well known in the West, but they should be. Their wonderfully chewy texture never fails to delight me, and as far as taste goes, they are a bit like bean curd in that they offer more of a blank slate, which makes sense, as these too are made out of soy milk.

What happens is this: As big vat of fresh soy milk is simmered, a skin forms on the top, just like with regular milk. This thin layer is periodically removed to form either soy batons – also known as fŭzhú 腐竹 (literally, “bean curd bamboo”) – or soy skins (dòufŭpí 豆腐皮), which are generally used as wrappers of some sort. 

These batons often given any number of English names – like soy sticks, tofu sticks, bean curd sticks, bean batons, and what have you – but I’ve found that “soy batons” is a translation that for me, at least, feels most accurate.
One of only many translations

The first step in making soy batons the traditional way consists of lifting up an edge or corner of the soy skin with a short stick and then using the fingers of the other hand to gently shape the coating into a long, damp clump. Since the skin is fresh and wet, it easily sticks together into a sodden roll that is then draped over a dowel so that it can start to dry. This dowel then is strategically hung over the vat so that the extra milk drips back down and nothing is wasted.

After the dowel has been filled with the soy batons, it is stacked on a frame so that the batons can harden. Finally, the batons are removed from the dowel and arranged on something like a bamboo basket to complete the drying process before they are packaged up.

Soy skins (also known by their Japanese name, yuba) are made in much the same way, except that the entire sheet is carefully lifted out and dried flat so that it ends up like a large, thin sheet or disc.
Dried soy batons

Both of these products are indispensable to Chinese vegetarians, and the carnivores there seem to love them just as much, too. The main charm of soy batons is their texture: springy and tensile, and yet soft enough to chew. 

This texture is created when the skin clumps together, for little spaces form between the layers that prevent the batons from becoming dense and inedible. What you end up with is light and yet full of character, the perfect backdrop for all sorts of creations, as soy batons can be simply soaked until soft and then tossed with an aromatic sauce, as in today's dish, or simmered in something savory, or added to congees or sweet soups, or treated as a type of bean curd in meaty braises. This is therefore one delicious chameleon you should get to know.
Plumped up soy batons

One of the easiest of all these recipes is also the best: soy batons tossed with chile oil, a recipe beloved throughout many areas of China, but particularly in Sichuan and the Central Highlands. If you already have some homemade chile oil and goop ready, this appetizer comes together in no time at all. Simply soak the soy batons in the morning, toss them with the sauce, and chill. They’ll be ready for dinner whenever you are.

That being said, the most important ingredient here turns out to be not the soy batons, but the chile oil, since it is responsible for being the backbone for all of the incredible flavors in this dish. So, be sure and make your own following the recipe here or here so that you get a wonderful range of smokiness, heat, and savoriness along with subtle punches of sweet, tart, garlic, cilantro, onion, and sesame.


Soy batons tossed with chile oil
Easy to make, easy to love
Hónglàyóu bàn fŭzhú 紅辣油拌腐竹
Sichuan
Serves 6 as an appetizer

6 dried soy batons (fuzhu)
Boiling water, as needed
2 tablespoons chile oil, plus 2 to 4 tablespoons of the goop (see the two links above) if you would like the dish highly flavored
2 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
Zest of 1 orange (if you're not using the citrus chile oil), optional
1 tablespoon (or more) regular soy sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoons black vinegar
4 or so tablespoons scallion oil (or garlic oil or Sichuan peppercorn oil)
1 green onion, trimmed and sliced very thinly on the diagonal
About ½ cup very coarsely chopped cilantro or celery greens (chop the cilantro into pieces about the same length as the broken soy batons) (see Tips)
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds

Discard the compressed folds
1. Break the soy batons into 2-inch (or so) lengths and pile them into a work bowl; while you're doing that, break off and discard the rounded folds in the middle, as these always end up tough. Cover the batons with the boiling water and then let the batons soak for an hour or two, while gently tossing them now and then, until the water is cool and almost all of the batons have swelled up into flimsy white puffs. Drain the batons in a colander set in the sink and rinse them gently with tap water. Shake the colander to get rid of the water and let it continue to drain while you prepare the sauce. Discard any hard, yellow parts that you happen to find on the batons, and tear or cut any of the soft pieces into smaller lengths, if you want.

2. Set a cool wok on the stove. Add the chile oil and goop, as well as the garlic and optional orange zest, and then raise the heat under the wok to medium. Slowly cook the garlic until it is soft but not browned, shaking the wok now and then to mix things around. 

Soy batons resting in the syrupy sauce
3. Add the soy sauce, sugar, and vinegar, bring it to a boil, adjust the seasoning, and then add the drained soy batons. Quickly reduce the sauce over high heat while tossing the soy batons until they are slicked with the syrupy mixture. Remove from the heat and scrape the batons and sauce into a bowl and let it come to room temperature. (This dish will be served chilled or at least slightly cold, which means that the flavors will become a bit muted as a result, so season accordingly.)

4. Refrigerate the batons for a couple of hours so that they become infused with the flavors. Just before serving, stir in the seasoned oil. Loosen up the green onions so that you have a pile of thin green rings, and then toss them in with the cilantro and toasted sesame seeds. Serve chilled or at just above room temperature.


Tips

Don't get this kind
Soy batons can be found in just about every Chinese market in the dried goods aisle near the beans. Try to find one that is made with non-GMO soybeans, and if it's organic and/or made in the US, feel particularly lucky and go buy a lottery ticket or two to celebrate. Don't get the ones that are machine made in perfect rolls, like the one on the right. These have no texture and open up in the hot water into disappointing wads.

Soy batons crush easily, so expect to find some crumbling going on in the package. If most of the batons are more or less whole, that's great. Use the crumbs in soups or congee, where they lend a nice milkiness and body.

Check the expiration date on the package and smell the batons when you open them up: they should have a fresh, almost nonexistent aroma with not even a suggestion of old oil. Store the unopened package in a dry, dark cupboard. Reseal the package after opening and use it up as soon as possible. 

Both the green onions and cilantro here should be fresh and crunchy, as they will also make or break the dish. I always buy them the same day that I plan to make this dish so that the cilantro in particular has a bright, clean taste and offers a loud crunch.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Breakfast the Chaozhou way

I must admit, I harbor a deep suspicion of anyone who does not love breakfast. Granted, if I am faced with a bowl of sugary cereal splashed with milk, I get more than a bit grumpy. That is not a civilized way to greet the day in my book. No, I want something hot, something savory, something guaranteed to keep me sailing all the way into lunchtime.

In other words, I want a tasty Chinese breakfast.

Now, you may be asking, how does one manage to get something like that while dealing with the usual morning crises, like simply waking up? Do it my way: stash good things in the freezer.

One of those good things is this ingenious rice roll from Chaozhou, that tasty sliver of Guangdong province nestling up against Fujian’s underbelly, the source of so much of the great food that spread over to Taiwan and south all the way into Indochina. Here we have not only the sticky rice that joins together all of the predominant schools of the Coastal Southeast—including Southern Fujian, Taiwan, and the Hakka—but also the dried ingredients packed with xianwei (a/k/a umami) that tell your mouth to celebrate.
Culinary fireworks

Black mushrooms, dried shrimp, salted turnips, and fried peanuts dance around in the steamed rice and offer not only those powerful tastes, but also a good bit of crunch to keep things interesting. Then, this savory rice is rolled in soy sheets, fried lightly in oil, and sliced into what looks quite a bit like servings of sausage.

Fried rice rolls are such an integral part of Chaozhou’s cuisine that they are found everywhere from banquets to the tiniest alleys, from market stands to the baskets hanging from the shoulders of street hawkers. Just about anything can make their way into the rice mix, too, so do not feel constrained by the seasonings used here. If you’re a vegan, toss in some diced cooked taro or carrot and maybe some fried shallots, or if you have some leftover meats in the fridge, shred or dice them to add a carnivorous edge to breakfast.

In Chaozhou, these will almost always be accompanied by strong cups of hot oolong tea, but a bowl of steaming soy milk or even a cup of coffee works just fine for me. Freeze a whole bunch of these unfried rolls and then fry a couple without first defrosting for a fast, delicious breakfast that will have you looking forward to the next morning. A chili dip is nice, as is a side of fried eggs or even bacon. Just no Lucky Charms, please.

Fried rice rolls
Filling in the soy skin
Juǎnjiān 卷煎
Chaozhou
Makes 4 (3 x 6 inch) rolls

The day before:
1 cup sticky short-grain rice, soaked until it passes the fingernail test
3 tablespoons dried shrimp
6 dried black mushrooms
Filtered cool water as needed

The day of:
¼ cup dried salted turnip (càipú 菜脯)
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
2 tablespoons fried peanuts, chopped
2 tablespoons regular soy sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
1 large fresh or frozen soy skin (fŭpí 腐皮)
1 teaspoon cornstarch mixed with a little water to form a paste
Spray oil
Oil for pan-frying

1. The day before you make these, soak the rice and then steam it until it cooked but not mushy. Cool the rice and then refrigerate it overnight. Rinse the shrimp and mushrooms, then soak them separately in cool water overnight. The next day, trim off any black sandy veins or discolored parts of the shrimp and chop them finely. Remove the stems from the mushrooms and use those and the soaking liquid for something else; chop the caps into fine (¼-inch) dice.

2. Rinse the salted turnip well in a colander place under the tap, shake the turnip dry, and then chop it into fine dice; take a taste of the turnip, and rinse it again if it is overly salty. Place the turnip in a medium work bowl with the cooled rice, shrimp, mushrooms, sesame seeds, peanuts, soy sauce, and sugar, and toss well. Divide the filling evenly into four.
Folding up the roll

3. Unfold a soy sheet and quickly cut it into quarters. Work on one sheet at a time and keep the rest covered to protect them from drying out and cracking. Lay a soy sheet triangle so that the point faces away from you. Place a quarter of the filling near the bottom of the triangle’s base and shape the filling into a more or less 3 x 6 inch rectangle. Fold the left and right sides of the soy skin over the filling so that the outer edges are parallel to each other. Then, roll the filling up in the soy skin. Use the cornstarch mixture as glue to seal the tip onto the roll. Cover the filled roll and repeat with the rest of the filling and soy skins until you have 4 rolls.

4. First steam the rolls: Spray a plate with oil and layer the rolls on top. Steam the rolls for around 5 minutes. These can then be either immediately fried or cooled and frozen. You may freeze the rice rolls at this point in a single layer and then store them in a resealable freezer bag; they do not need to be defrosted before frying.


5. To fry them, heat a flat seasoned frying pan over medium heat and then film it with around 1 tablespoon of oil per roll, frying only as many rolls as you plan to immediately eat. Fry the rolls covered on one side, flip them over, and fry uncovered until they are golden brown on both sides. Slice the cooked rice rolls on an angle into ¾ inch pieces. Serve with a vinegar or chili dip.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Strange flavor bean fish that's neither strange nor fishy and barely a bean

The names of some dishes are evocative, like floating islands or red velvet cake.  Others are very straightforward and completely no frills, such as steamed rice or corn on the cob.  Still others require a leap of faith before you even think of sticking them in your mouth, which is what happened with me before I attempted spoonfuls of a scrumptious version of dirty rice and a rather vile rendering of spotted dick. 

And then there's the final category: downright weirdly named foods.  Strange Flavor Bean Fish has got to have one of the top worst names ever.  It's like if a potential Miss America were saddled with a moniker like Salmonella Boozer; it's just not right.  

Fresh mung beansprouts
But in fact, "strange flavor" is a direct translation of the name for the smooth Sichuanese sauce that's highlighted here: guaiwei.  Why it would be called "strange" is beyond me because it's nothing more than some of our wonderful Chili Oil, a few dabs of sesame paste, a sprinkling of toasted ground Sichuan peppercorns, and a good fistful of aromatics like garlic, ginger, cilantro, and green onions all bound in a savory sauce.  So, "strange" would not be my first choice for the name here; if it were up to me, I'd go with "yummy."

Packaged soy skins
And now we come to the fish part of the story.  I'm guessing here, but I'd put my money on the possibility that this was originally a vegetarian version of a seafood dish that turned out to be more popular than the original.  Fish filets have been known to find themselves wrapped up in soy skins and fried into crispy little packets, so the step from seafood to mung bean sprouts isn't really too bizarre, since both end up being relatively bland but juicy foils for the crunchy outside that serves as a conduit for all of that great sauce. 

About the only thing I'm 100% sure of with regard to the name here is that the "bean" refers to the beansprouts!

A word about mung bean sprouts: buy them no earlier than a day before you plan to use them because they have the shelf life of a may fly.  Store them in the refrigerator in a plastic container and covered with water, as this will slow down the almost instantaneous decay that seems to be in these sprouts' DNA.  The soaking will also serve to crisp up the sprouts and make them even more delightful.

Roll the sprouts in the soy skin
Soy skins, also called doufupi or yuba, can be found fresh or frozen in most Chinese grocery stores.  Fresh soy skins should be used up relatively quickly, as they are prone to mold even under the best of circumstances.  Frozen ones will stay in great shape for months as long as you are careful not to bend or crush them, for the skins will shatter at the least provocation.  Fresh or frozen, keep them covered with damp tea towels from the moment you take them out of the package until you fry the filled soy skin rolls - this will help them stay supple and crack free.

Have everything ready for this dish here before you start.  It is best if it's eaten immediately after the rolls are filled, fried, and sauced, so the best way to keep the fuss to a minimum is to arrange all of the ingredients by the stove until about 10 minutes before serving.  The sauce can be made in advance and the sprouts blanched and chilled, so that all you have to do is roll the sprouts up in the soy skins and fry them.

The only difficult thing that remains is your explanation to your guests as to how this dish got its name.

The Un-fish

Strange flavor bean fish 
Guaiwei douyu  怪味豆魚  
Sichuan
Serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer

"Fish":
10 to 12 ounces mung beansprouts
1 large sheet soy skin (fupi 腐皮) , fresh or frozen
¾ cup peanut or vegetable oil
Sauce:
¼ cup roasted sesame paste or tasty peanut butter
2 tablespoons soy sauce paste (jiangyougao 醬油膏, see Note below)
2 teaspoons sugar
3 to 4 teaspoons flavorful vinegar
3 tablespoons roasted sesame oil
2 tablespoons Chili Oil, plus more for garnish
2 tablespoons boiling water
3 to 4 teaspoons finely minced ginger
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1 green onion, trimmed and finely minced
4 tablespoons finely minced cilantro
½ teaspoon finely ground chili powder, optional
½ teaspoon ground roasted Sichuan peppercorns, or to taste

Voila, a soy cigar
1. Blanch the beansprouts by placing them in a saucepan and covering them by at least 1 inch with tap water. Cover the pot and bring it to a rapid boil. As soon as the water is about to go from a simmer to a full boil, check one of the sprouts: it should be crispy yet the raw edge should be cooked away. Immediately dump the sprouts into a colander in the sink and rinse the sprouts with cold tap water to stop the cooking. Drain the sprouts thoroughly.

2. Lay the soy skin sheet on a cutting board and cut it in half. Cover both sides with a damp tea cloth to soften the sheet a bit while you mix up the sauce. Pour the oil into a wok and set it on the stove.

Test the heat of the oil
3. Combine all of the sauce ingredients in a measuring cup or bowl, taste, and adjust the seasoning as desired. It should have the consistency of heavy cream.

4. Remove one of the soy sheet halves and spread half of the blanched bean sprouts near the round edge as shown (above right). Fold both edges over the sprouts and then roll up the soy skin in a tight cigar (above left). Repeat with the other skin and the rest of the sprouts, and keep both rolls covered with the damp tea towel.

5. Heat the oil over medium-high heat until wooden chopsticks or tongs inserted into the oil immediately bubble. Carefully lower the end of one of the rolls into the hot oil; it will fry very quickly, so move it through the oil in order to lightly brown every part of the soy skin, both top and bottom. Remove the fried roll to a cutting board and fry the other roll.
Fry the soy roll

6. Cut each roll into 6 or 8 pieces, depending upon the number of your guests, and arrange the rolls on one or two serving plates. Drizzle the sauce over the "fish" and squirt some more of your chili oil on them as well to add a nice red flourish. Serve while the "fish" are still hot and crispy.

Note: Soy sauce paste is a thickened savory condiment with the consistency of catsup. It's used as is as a dipping sauce or in stir-fries, or it can be added to sauces like here to provide more body as well as rounder flavor. There's many brands out there, so find one you like. If you don't have any handy, oyster sauce is a good substitute.