My Grandmother's Chinese Kitchen
Page 6
As a practicing Buddhist, my grandmother would eat only vegetables on the first and fifteenth of each month, and for the first fifteen days of the month of the Lunar New Year. And she would eat lightly, usually a clear soup flavored with herbs and Chinese parsley, and some steamed vegetables. Otherwise she would spend these observant days sitting on her divan fingering her prayer beads and praying for her ancestors whose names were etched on flat sticks resting upon her family altar next to her couch. She told me this was her personal way of honoring Buddha.
Ah Paw was quick to point out that Buddha, through one of his high priests, showed wisdom when, to make up to humanity for the loss of chives, leeks and shallots, decreed that it was permissible for vegetarians to eat in their stead three specific shellfish: clams, mussels and oysters. The decree was, she said, “hoi jung yau sam yeung,” or “The ocean has three shelled creatures that are declared vegetarian.” Indeed, these three were invariably served at meals during the New Year observance, and continue to be to this day.
When I would go into Ah Paw’s garden to help pick vegetables for her tables, she would be strict. Take only leaves that were green, without any blackness at the edges, she instructed. Nor should there be any yellow in the leaves, for yellow was a sign that the vegetable was old, past its prime. Make certain leaves were not broken or snapped, she would say, and she would ask to see any roots pulled from the ground so she could look at the dirt for moisture.
She would tell me that scallions—chun—were particularly good vegetables because their name translates to wise. And they were wise, because their long, hollow stems indicated an open mind. As did the lotus, with holes in its root. Lettuce, sahng choi, was healthy, and as such was always served at birthday dinners. Broccoli was jade, and soy beans were inherently warming and, when cooked, became hot. I learned to cook vegetables without harming their inherent crispness, and I cook them identically to this day, whether stir-fried or steamed.
In Ah Paw’s house we cooked and ate vegetables on their own, to be sure, but also in combination with pork in many forms, fresh or preserved, and with chicken, though never with beef, which is forbidden to Buddhists.
Stir-Fried Choi Sum
(CHAU CHOI SUM)
Choi sum is a most delicious vegetable. Widely available in Asian markets, it has a bright green stem and leaves, and tiny yellow bud flowers. When cooked, it is very sweet. There is no Western equivalent for choi sum; simply ask for it by its Chinese name.
8 cups cold water
1 slice ginger, ¼ inch thick, lightly smashed
½ teaspoon baking soda, optional
2 bunches choi sum, washed, top tender portions broken off, about 4 to 5
inches, large leaves and flowers discarded
3 tablespoons peanut oil
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons minced ginger
In a large pot place water, ginger slice and baking soda and bring to a boil over high heat. Add choi sum and water-blanch until it becomes bright green, about 1 minute. Turn off heat, remove pot from stove and pour through a strainer. Run choi sum under cold water for 1 minute, set aside. Drain thoroughly.
Heat wok over high heat, and peanut oil and salt and coat wok using spatula. Add minced ginger and stir. When ginger turns light brown, add drained choi sum. Stir-fry for 3 minutes, or until hot. Turn off heat, transfer to a heated dish and serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Stir-Fried Watercress
(CHAU SEI YUNG CHOI)
In America, watercress is not generally regarded as a vegetable of importance, but it is in China. Its pungent flavor is prized and it is stir-fried, made into soups, is often part of elaborate banquets and used as a decorative food, even as a bed or a garnish for other foods. My grandmother preferred to serve it unaccompanied, and so do I.
3 bunches fresh watercress, each bunch cut across in half, washed,
drained
8 cups water
1 slice ginger, ¼ inch thick, lightly smashed
½ teaspoon baking soda, optional
2½ teaspoons salt
3 tablespoons peanut oil
In a pot place water, ginger, baking soda if using and 2 teaspoons salt, and bring to a boil over high heat. Immerse watercress and water-blanch for 30 seconds, until watercress turns bright green. Turn off heat, run cold water into pot, pour off and allow to drain for 10 to 15 minutes, tossing occasionally.
Heat a wok over high heat for 30 seconds. Add peanut oil and ½ teaspoon salt, coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add watercress. Use a chopstick to loosen the watercress if necessary. Stir-fry for 2 to 3 minutes, until hot. Turn off heat, transfer to a heated dish and serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Stir-Fried Corn
(CHAU GUM JUE)
In China, corn is known as gum jue, or “golden pearls.” This vegetable gift from the West was grown in a large patch of my grandmother’s walled garden, and was a treat eagerly awaited in summer. We always ate it fresh, often steamed atop rice, or cooked as a snack. As part of a larger meal, the kernels were usually stripped from the ear and stir-fried.
3½ teaspoons peanut oil
1½ teaspoons minced garlic
½ teaspoon salt
1½ tablespoons cold water
2½ cups fresh corn, stripped from the ear
¼ cup scallions, green portions only, finely sliced
Heat a wok over high heat for 30 seconds, add peanut oil and coat wok using a spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add garlic and salt and stir, about 10 seconds. When garlic turns light brown, add corn, stir, cook for 1 minute. Add cold water, stir in. Cover wok and bring to a boil, about 2 to 3 minutes. Remove cover, stir corn. Lower heat, cover wok again and cook for 3 minutes more, or until corn is tender. Turn off heat, transfer to a heated dish, sprinkle with sliced scallions and serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Ginger Pickle
(WOR MEI DZI GEUNG)
My grandmother’s garden produced a variety of foods used as pickles and in salads. She did not care for cold foods of any kind, preferring her soups and other hot foods, but her family fancied pickles and salads, so they were made. From the garden came cucumber, jicama and turnips. From the market came gingerroot and mustard greens for pickling. This was another of the practices I learned in her kitchen, which I still use today. I pickle and make salads of turnips, Tianjin bok choy, cabbage and cauliflower, usually blanching them then curing them with a mix of water and vinegar, sugar and salt.
One of the most versatile pickles is made from fresh gingerroot. It was eaten as a snack, is an ingredient in many dishes, and as a garnish. In Ah Paw’s house it was also eaten as the first course of a meal, in which we often paired it with those cured thousand-year-old eggs. The pickle is best made from young, pink fresh ginger when the sweetness of the sugar complements the subtle heat of the ginger.
MARINADE
1¼ teaspoons salt
¾ cup Chinese white rice vinegar, or distilled white vinegar
1 cup sugar
8 cups water
1 teaspoon baking soda (optional)
1½ pounds fresh young ginger, peeled (wash thoroughly and most of the
thin outer brown barklike coating will come off) and cut into ⅛-inch
slices
Mix all marinade ingredients in a bowl; reserve.
In a large pot bring water and baking soda to a boil over high heat. Add ginger slices and boil for 30 seconds. Remove from heat, add cold water to pot to stop cooking process, drain. Add cold water a second time, drain. Repeat a third time and allow ginger to sit in cold water for 10 minutes. Drain well, then place ginger slices in a bowl with the marinade, tossing well to coat.
Cover ginger and marinade, refrigerated, for at least 24 hours before serving. Serve cold. Ginger Pickle, placed in a tightly closed jar will keep, refrigerated, for at least 3 months.
MAKES ABOUT 1¼ POUNDS
Sour Turnip
Salad
(SOON LOR BOK SALUD)
This very special pickle salad was reserved usually for memorable occasions such as weddings and the birthdays of grandparents, and was served always before meals because it was believed to stimulate the appetite.
1 2-pound Chinese turnip (white turnip), both ends cut off, discarded,
peeled, washed, dried and cut in half lengthwise
1½ teaspoons salt
4 tablespoons sugar
4 tablespoons Chinese white rice vinegar, or distilled white vinegar
¼ teaspoon white pepper
Place each turnip half, cut side down, and cut along the length of each at ⅛-inch intervals. Do not cut all the way through, cut to ⅛-inch from the bottom (this will permit breaking off into half-moon slices), and cut each sliced half into 2-inch segments.
Place turnips in a bowl with salt, toss and allow to stand for 1 hour to let excess water drain. Discard water, add sugar, white vinegar and white pepper to bowl. Mix thoroughly and place bowl in refrigerator, covered with plastic wrap for at least 4 hours. Serve immediately. This salad will keep, refrigerated, for up to 2 days.
MAKES ABOUT 1¾ POUNDS
Chives Stir-Fried with Bean Sprouts
(CHING CHAU SUB CHOI)
I asked Ah Paw why this dish is called “ten vegetables” when I could only see two. This is how she explained it. The recipe’s name translates literally as “Lightly Stir-Fried Ten Vegetables,” but the word for chives is gau choi, which means “nine vegetables.” Thus, nine vegetables plus bean sprouts equals ten. Was that clear? she asked. Of course.
4 cups cold water
¾ pound bean sprouts, washed, drained
2 tablespoons peanut oil
2 teaspoons minced ginger
1½ cups chives, washed, dried, about ⅛ inch of hard stems discarded,
cut into 1-inch pieces
½ teaspoon salt
In a large pot, bring water to a boil over high heat. Place bean sprouts in water, stir no more than 10 seconds. Turn off heat, run cold water into pot and drain. Repeat, drain all excess water. Set aside. This should be done 1 hour before further preparation to ensure dryness. Occasionally loosen sprouts with chopstick, to help drying.
Heat wok over high heat for 1 minute. Add peanut oil, coat wok using spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add ginger and stir. When ginger turns light brown, add chives, stir well, about 30 seconds, or until chives turn bright green. Add bean sprouts, stir well, cook for 1 minute. Turn off heat. Add salt and toss well to season. Transfer to heated dish, serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Chives with Salted Pork
(HAM CHI YUK CHAU GAU CHOI)
This is yet another use for that special salted pork. Chives grew in profusion, like the wild grasses they were, in my grandmother’s garden, despite their “unholy” nature, as they do in mine. Their distinctive taste hints of both garlic and scallions. In Asian markets these days, they are often referred to as garlic chives.
SAUCE
3 tablespoons Chicken Stock (page 13)
¾ teaspoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon sesame oil
2½ tablespoons peanut oil
½ pound fresh chives, washed, hard ends trimmed, cut into 1-inch
pieces
1½ cups Salted Pork (page 18 ) cut into slices 2 inches long, ½ inch wide,
¼ inch thick
1 tablespoon Shao-Hsing wine, or sherry
In a small bowl, combine all ingredients for sauce; reserve.
Heat wok over high heat 40 seconds. Add 1 tablespoon peanut oil, coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add chives, stir-fry for 1 minute, or until chives turn bright green. Turn off heat, remove from wok and reserve.
Wipe off wok and spatula with paper towels. Heat wok over high heat for 20 seconds. Add remaining peanut oil, coat wok. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add pork. Stir-fry for 1½ minutes. Drizzle wine into wok along its edges. Cook for 1 more minute, then add chives. Mix together about 1 minute until very hot. Make a well in the mixture, stir sauce, pour in and mix thoroughly. When sauce thickens, turn off heat, remove to a heated dish and serve immediately with cooked rice.
SERVES 4
Salted Pork and Tianjin Bok Choy Soup
(HAM JI YUK JIAN CHOY TONG)
At virtually every lunch or dinner enjoyed at Ah Paw’s table there was a soup served, simply because she liked them. Soups, clear and light, were her dishes of choice on those days when, as an observant Buddhist, she would eat no meat, poultry or fish. On other days her soups contained all manner of vegetables from her garden as well as meats, chicken and fish and seafood.
4 cups Chicken Stock (page 13)
1 slice ginger, ½ inch thick, lightly smashed
1 cup Salted Pork (page 18) cut into very thin 2½-inch slices
1¼ pounds Tianjin bok choy (Napa cabbage) washed, drained and cut
into ¾-inch pieces on the diagonal, stalks and leaves separated
Place chicken stock and ginger in a large pot. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Add pork, stir and return to a boil. Add bok choy stalks, stir well and return again to a boil. Reduce heat to medium, cook for 1½ minutes. Raise heat to high, return to a boil. Add bok choy leaves, stir well and cook for 2 minutes or until tender. Taste and add salt if necessary. Transfer to a heated tureen and serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Silk Squash Soup with Shredded Pork
(SZE GUA TONG)
This odd vegetable, a squash shaped like a zucchini, has ridges along its length. These must be pared off before the squash is prepared. This was a special treat at my grandmother’s house because the squash was available only from late spring to early summer, less than two months a year. These days, silk squashes are available year-round in Asian markets. Select ones that are small and young.
MARINADE
2 teaspoons light soy sauce
2 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil
½ tablespoon Shao-Hsing wine, or sherry
1 teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch
Pinch white pepper
2 pounds silk squash
2 tablespoons peanut oil
½ teaspoon salt
1 slice ginger, ½ inch thick, lightly smashed
4½ cups cold water
½ teaspoon baking soda
8 ounces lean pork butt, shredded
Combine all ingredients for marinade, add pork, toss, allow to rest 20 minutes.
Clean and wash squash and peel off ridges, but do not remove all of the green. Roll-cut squash: Starting at one end, cut diagonally into approximately ¾-inch slices. Turn squash one quarter turn between each cut. Reserve.
Heat wok over high heat for 40 seconds, add peanut oil, coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears add salt and ginger, stir for 15 seconds. When ginger browns, add squash, stir-fry until squash turns bright green, 2 to 3 minutes. Remove squash, place in large pot.
Add cold water and baking soda to pot and bring to a boil over high heat, uncovered. Lower heat and cook 3 to 4 minutes, or until squash softens. Raise heat to high, add pork and marinade. Separate pork shreds, bring back to a boil and cook over high heat, 2 minutes. Turn off heat, transfer to a heated tureen and serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Bok Choy and Shredded Chicken Soup
(BOK CHOY GAI SEE TONG)
Bok choy is perhaps the most familiar of Chinese vegetables. The bok choy I remember from my grandmother’s garden was the sweetest, and most tender. This is not merely a rosy recollection; it truly was. In Ah Paw’s kitchen bok choy was either stir-fried or made into soups. I was even taught how to blanch it and dry it in the sun, for later use in soups. This soup was one of my grandmother’s favorites, a summer soup that she deemed cooling to the system.