1 teaspoon light soy sauce
¼ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon sugar
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1½ teaspoons Shao-Hsing wine, or sherry
1 teaspoon cornstarch
Pinch white pepper
6 ounces lean pork loin, shredded
SAUCE
1 teaspoon light soy sauce
¼ teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon oyster sauce
1½ tablespoons cornstarch
Pinch white pepper
1 cup Chicken Stock (page 13)
8 cups cold water
½ cup bean sprouts, washed, drained
8 ounces thin fresh egg noodles such as capellini
2 teaspoons salt
5½ tablespoons peanut oil
2 teaspoons minced ginger
¼ cup Steamed Black Mushrooms (page 32) cut into julienne
3 scallions, trimmed, green portions cut into 2-inch sections, white
portions quartered lengthwise
2 teaspoons minced garlic
Combine all ingredients for marinade in a bowl, add pork, mix well and allow to rest l5 minutes.
Mix all ingredients for sauce; reserve.
In a large pot, bring 8 cups cold water to a boil over high heat. Place bean sprouts in a strainer, lower into water for 6 to 8 seconds, remove, run cold water through strainer and reserve. Return water to a boil, add noodles and salt, stir and return again to a boil. Cook 1 minute, or until al dente, stirring with chopsticks to prevent sticking. Turn off heat, run cold water into the pot, drain through a strainer. Repeat twice, and allow noodles to drain thoroughly, about 30 minutes. Loosen noodles with chopsticks.
Heat a cast-iron skillet over high heat for 40 seconds. Add 2 tablespoons peanut oil to cover bottom. When a wisp of white smoke appears, place noodles in an even layer in the pan, covering entire bottom. Cook for 1 minute, moving pan about the burner to ensure noodles brown evenly. Control heat to prevent burning.
Turn noodles over: Slide noodles onto a large plate. Place similar plate over them, turn over and slide back into skillet. Add 1 tablespoon peanut oil to fry pan. Cook other side for 1 minute, moving pan as before.
As noodles cook, heat a wok over high heat for 40 seconds. Add 1½ tablespoons peanut oil and coat wok with spatula. Add ginger and stir. When ginger browns, approximately 45 seconds, add mushrooms and scallions. Stir and cook for 1 minute, or until green portions of scallions turn bright green. Turn off heat, remove from wok and reserve.
Wipe wok and spatula clean. Heat over high heat 30 seconds. Add remaining 1 tablespoon peanut oil, coat wok. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add minced garlic and stir for 15 seconds. When garlic browns, add pork and its marinade, spread in a thin layer. Stir, cook for 30 seconds, turn pork, mix, cook for 2 minutes. Add all reserved vegetables and mix well for 1 minute. Make a well in the center of the mix, stir sauce and pour in. Stir-fry all ingredients together until well mixed. When sauce bubbles and thickens, turn off heat. Transfer noodles to a heated platter, pour contents of wok over them and serve immediately.
SERVES 6
WE WOULD CLEAN UP AFTER DINNER, sweeping and dusting then hiding our brooms and dustpans because to see them on New Year’ Day was bad luck. All of the women—Ah Paw, my mother, my aunts and the servants—would then comb their hair, because they could not comb it on New Year’s Day, as it was another harbinger of bad luck. It was then I learned the importance of those porcelain pillows, which permit one to rest on her neck and shoulder without disturbing buns and hairdos.
It was time to wait, impatiently, for darkness to come, so we could go out with our lighted paper lanterns. On this last night of the old year, all of the younger girls and boys in the neighborhood would meet in the small square with our paper lanterns, wade though the sparkling firecrackers and lion dancers, and walk through Sah Gau “selling laziness.” We would chant, in a singsong, “Mai lan, mai lan, mai lan.”
Mai doh lin, sam sup man or, “Laziness for sale, laziness for sale, laziness for sale. Sell for a whole year,” which meant that we were promising to get rid of any laziness we might display for the coming year. There was great fun doing this, much laughing and teasing of others, before returning to Ah Paw’s house, there to wait until a call at the front door would notify us that the Fortune God had arrived.
This was a tradition reserved only for boys, young and just into their teens. They would write the characters for the Fortune God, Choi Sun, on strips of red paper, then go from door to door announcing that the Fortune God had arrived. Each family would give this representative of the god a red envelope of lucky money, called lai see. I was about nine or ten, I recall, and I asked Ah Paw why I could not carry the Fortune God’s name from door to door. She told me that this was not for girls, but bei lam jai jo, only for boys.
When I asked why, she said she had just told me why and wouldn’t I rather she tell me a story. Which meant I would get into her big bed with her and she would tell me the tale of Guo Nin, the legend of the New Year.
Five thousand years ago, she said, a wise emperor, through his astrologers, determined the planting seasons to help farmers. But it came to pass that after the sun had shown itself 365 times, a fearsome beast known as Nin would come to attack farmers and destroy their crops. But the farmers discovered that the beast feared noise, lights and the color red, so they kept their homes lighted, displayed papers and objects painted red, and set off firecrackers. This, Ah Paw said, was the beginning of the New Year celebration, and the phrase Guo Nin came to mean to “Go Past the Nin,” defining the Lunar New Year.
It was why we had firecrackers, Ah Paw said, why we had the long sinuous lion dancers—both to remind us that we continue to keep Nin away. It was a familiar story to put me to sleep.
The next morning it was New Year’s Day, and all of us in Ah Paw’s house would greet each other with calls of “Kung Hei Fat Choy,” the traditional New Year greeting, which translates literally as “Congratulations, Good Fortune.” For me this was a good meaning because as the youngest member of the household, I would be given lai see (lucky money) by everyone older than me, a custom I dearly loved. But first there was, on New Year’s morning, a time to pay respects to the elders. That morning I wore all of the new clothes, my new dress, my new socks and shoes, before going into Ah Paw’s living room.
Ah Paw would be seated in a big, blackwood chair in the center of her living room, with her altar behind her. My two aunts would come in, and each would bow to her, kneel and offer her a cup of tea. My grandmother would accept the cups, pour a bit from each cup on the floor in front of the altar, thus giving her ancestors and Guan Gung, the God of Protection, a drink. Ah Paw would then give each of my aunts a red, gold-embossed envelope of lai see, which contained money and a piece of evergreen branch, to denote life, as well as a tangerine, with stem and leaves, for sweetness.
My mother, Miu Hau, was next. She repeated the procedure of my aunts. She was followed by my brother, Ching Moh, and then my cousin. Ah Paw’s two servants, Ah Guk and Sau Lin, were next. I was last to kneel, to serve tea and to receive my lai see from Ah Paw. But then the fun began. All of those older and married had to give me envelopes of lucky money as well.
These observances generally took up most of the morning, and then we ate our New Year’s Day meal. This, too, was typically a family meal, but modest and not as elaborate as the New Year’s Eve feast. It was also totally vegetarian. Ah Paw, as a practicing Buddhist, would eat no meat or fish on the New Year, and for the remaining two weeks that took the lunar observance to mid-month. Out of respect for her, we would prepare foods that we knew would please her, and eat as she ate.
Spring Rolls
(CHUN GEUN)
For the New Year, the spring roll represented a gold bar. It is made in various parts of China, with different fillings. This version was my grandmother’s favorite, filled with vegetables and deemed by h
er to be a perfect temple offering before being eaten at home.
5 cups cold water
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda (optional)
12 ounces (4½ cups, tightly packed) cabbage, washed, dried, cut into ¼-
inch pieces across
PASTE
1½ tablespoons cornstarch, mixed with 1½ tablespoons cold water
½ cup boiling water
SAUCE
2 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 teaspoon light soy sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon sesame oil
½ tablespoon Shao-Hsing wine, or sherry
2 tablespoons cornstarch
Pinch white pepper
½ cup cold water
2 tablespoons peanut oil
1 tablespoon minced ginger
3 scallions, trimmed, cut into 2-inch sections, white portions quartered
lengthwise
7 Steamed Black Mushrooms (page 32), thinly sliced
16 spring roll skins
5 cups peanut oil (for deep-frying)
In a large pot place 5 cups water, salt and baking soda and bring to a boil over high heat. Add cabbage, submerge, stir and allow to cook for 40 seconds. Turn off heat, run cold water into pot, drain. Repeat, allow to drain 20 minutes and loosen cabbage with chopsticks. Reserve.
MAKE A PASTE: Place cornstarch-water mixture in a bowl. Stir with one hand, while gradually adding boiling water gradually with the other, until a smooth paste is created. Reserve.
Mix all ingredients for sauce in a small bowl; reserve.
Heat wok over high heat 40 seconds. Add 2 tablespoons peanut oil, coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add minced ginger and stir briefly. Add scallions, stir, cook 40 seconds. Add mushrooms and cabbage, mix well, cook for 3 minutes. Make a well in the mixture, stir sauce, pour in, stir well. When sauce thickens and bubbles, approximately 2 minutes, turn off heat. Transfer to a shallow dish, allow to come to room temperature. Refrigerate, covered, overnight.
MAKE SPRING ROLLS: Place 2 tablespoons filling in a line across one end of spring roll skin. Brush edges of skin with paste mixture. (Paste mixture should be prepared just prior to making spring rolls.) Fold over tip, continue to roll, folding in sides as you do. Keep brushing edges of skin with paste to ensure sealing. Repeat until all spring rolls are made.
Deep-fry spring rolls in 5 cups peanut oil at 350 degrees F, in 4 batches, until golden brown, 3 to 4 minutes for each batch. Keep turning to ensure even color. Remove from oil with tongs, drain through a strainer over a bowl, then remove to paper towels. Serve immediately.
MAKES 16 SPRING ROLLS
NOTE Spring rolls may be frozen after cooking. To reheat, either deep-fry lightly at 350 degrees F for 2 minutes, or until crisp; or place in a 375-degree F oven for 3 minutes on each side, until hot and crisp.
Fried Oysters
(JAH SANG HO)
Oysters are one of those three fruits of the sea permissible to Buddhists and were therefore insisted upon for New Year lunch by my grandmother. Cooking them with a batter is traditional. Their name, ho see, sounds like the Chinese words for good business.
BATTER
1½ cups bleached all-purpose, high-gluten flour
10 ounces cold water
¾ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons baking powder
2 tablespoons peanut oil
5 cups peanut oil
20 medium-size fresh oysters, opened, removed from shells, patted dry,
dusted with flour
Combine all batter ingredients in a bowl and reserve.
Heat wok over high heat for 1 minute. Pour in peanut oil, heat to 375 degrees F. Dip each oyster into the batter until well coated. When a wisp of white smoke appears, lower oysters into oil. Deep-fry 5 at a time until light brown, about 3 minutes. Remove oysters, place in strainer, drain over a bowl.
Deep-fry last batch to a golden brown, about 4 minutes. Place cooked oysters back in oil for 2 minutes more so they become golden brown. During frying, always control heat. You may need to lower if oysters brown too much, or raise if they cook too slowly.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Spinach Stir-Fried with Garlic
(SEUN YUNG CHAU BOR CHOI)
The name for spinach in Chinese is bor choi, or “the vegetable that waves,” an accurate description of its leaves. Like other leafy vegetables, it is a felicitous New Year reminder of paper money. Because of its direct taste, it is best enjoyed simply, in this case, complemented with garlic. Ah Paw liked to add that the deep green the spinach acquired after blanching also reminded her of jade.
8 cups cold water
1½ teaspoons salt
1 slice ginger, 1½ inch thick, lightly smashed
¾ teaspoon baking soda (optional)
1 pound fresh spinach, washed well 3 times to remove grit, drained and
individual stalks separated, each cut in half, across
2½ tablespoons peanut oil
1½ tablespoons minced garlic
In a pot place water, 1 teaspoon salt, ginger and baking soda and bring to a boil over high heat. Add spinach, submerge completely, water-blanch for 30 seconds. Turn off heat, run cold water into pot. Drain spinach well. Reserve.
Heat wok over high heat 30 seconds. Add peanut oil and remaining ½ teaspoon salt and coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add garlic, stir 30 seconds, or until garlic turns light brown. Add spinach, stir-fry together 2 to 3 minutes, until very hot. Keep spinach sections as separate as possible so they will be well coated with minced garlic. Turn off heat, transfer to a heated dish and serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Lima Bean Soup with Sour Mustard Pickle
(CHON DAU SEUN CHOI TONG)
For our New Year visitors, my grandmother’s servants prepared lima beans in a special way. They allowed them to harden, then deep-fried them and sprinkled them with salt, to be eaten as a snack. But they were also cooked fresh, alone or in combination with other vegetables, in this instance in a soup, made pleasantly tart with the addition of sour mustard pickle.
4½ cups Vegetable Stock (page 14)
1 slice ginger, 1 inch thick, lightly smashed
1 cup sour mustard pickle, cut into ¼-inch dice
1½ cups fresh lima beans (if frozen, allow to come to room temperature)
1 teaspoon sugar
4 teaspoons light soy sauce
4 tablespoons Scallion Oil (page 16)
2 small cakes fresh bean curd, cut into ½-inch cubes
3 tablespoons coriander, finely sliced
In a large pot, place vegetable stock, ginger and mustard pickle, cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Lower heat to medium, allow to simmer 7 minutes. Add lima beans, cook for 5 minutes more. Add sugar, soy sauce and scallion oil, stir well. Return to a boil, add bean curd, allow to come to a boil and cook 2 minutes more. Turn off heat, stir in coriander. Remove soup to a heated tureen and serve.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Mussels with Ginger and Scallions
(GEUNG CHUNG CHAU HAK HIN)
Our name for mussels, hak hin, translates as “black clams.” It is another of those shellfish permitted to be eaten by vegetarian Buddhists, and Ah Paw loved them.
SAUCE
2½ tablespoons oyster sauce
1½ teaspoons dark soy sauce
1¼ teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon Chinese white rice vinegar, or distilled white vinegar
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1 tablespoon Shao-Hsing wine, or sherry
4 teaspoons cornstarch
Pinch white pepper
1 cup Vegetable Stock (page 14)
10 cups water
2 pounds mussels, sand and beards removed, washed thoroughly until
clean
2½ tablespoons peanut oil
3 tablespoons shredded ginger
1 cup scallions, trimmed, cut into 1-inch pieces
Mix all ingredients for sauce; reserve.
In large pot, place water, cover, bring to a boil over high heat. Add mussels, stir. When mussels open, remove with a slotted spoon and place in a large bowl. Reserve. Discard any mussels that do not open.
Heat wok over high heat for 45 seconds, add peanut oil, coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add ginger and stir 30 seconds. Turn off heat. Stir sauce, pour into wok. Turn heat back to high and stir sauce. Add mussels, mix until they are thoroughly coated, about 2 to 3 minutes, and sauce thickens. Add scallions and mix all ingredients well. Turn off heat and transfer to a heated dish, serve immediately.
My Grandmother's Chinese Kitchen Page 12
