My Grandmother's Chinese Kitchen

by Eileen Yin-Fei Lo

  3 cinnamon sticks, 2 inches long

  1 slice ginger, 1 inch thick, lightly smashed

  10 cups cold water

  2 tablespoons salt

  2 tablespoons sugar

  ¼ cup Chinese white rice wine, or gin

  1 whole nutmeg

  6 cups peanut oil, for deep-frying

  PREPARE THE CHICKEN: Clean, remove all fat and membranes and wash with cold water. Sprinkle ¼ cup salt on outside of chicken, rub well into the skin, rinse under cold running water and drain well. Mix coating ingredients, reserve.

  In a large pot combine all ingredients from anise to nutmeg and bring to a boil over high heat. Cover pot, lower heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Turn heat to high, bring to a boil again. Place chicken in pot, breast side up, cover. When pot begins to boil, lower heat immediately, simmer for 10 minutes. Turn chicken over, repeat process. Turn off heat, allow chicken to sit for 10 minutes with pot covered. Remove chicken, discard all ingredients from pot. Place chicken on a rack over a large platter to drain. As it drains, pierce chicken with a cooking fork to help process. Drain 1 to 1½ hours.

  With a pastry brush coat chicken thoroughly with coating mixture. Allow coated chicken to dry thoroughly, about 6 hours. (The use of an electric fan can cut this drying period in half.) As it dries, turn the chicken several times, taking care not to disturb the coating.

  Heat wok over high heat 1 minute, add peanut oil, heat to 375 degrees F. Using a large Chinese strainer, lower chicken into the oil, breast side up and deep-fry 3 minutes. Ladle over chicken to ensure uniformity of frying. Turn chicken over by inserting a wooden spoon in its cavity and fry for another 3 minutes, ladling oil as before. Repeat until chicken is golden brown. Turn off heat, remove chicken, allow to drain. Place on chopping board and chop into bite-size pieces. Serve immediately with Roasted Spice Salt.

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  Roasted Spice Salt

  2 teaspoons salt

  ½ teaspoon five-spice powder

  ½ teaspoon whole Sichuan peppercorns

  Heat wok over high heat 45 seconds. Lower heat to low medium, add all ingredients. Dry-roast, stirring, until five-spice powder turns black. Remove, strain off peppercorns, discard them. Place spice salt in a small dish and serve with chicken.

  TUEN NG, THE FESTIVAL OF THE Dragon Boats, is a significant celebration that involves much of China, particularly in cities and towns along its south-eastern shores, and where there are sizable bays, rivers and lakes. Within China, Tuen Ng is a national holiday that involves competitions among hundreds of ornate dragon boats. Outside of China, it is an observance with which many westerners are familiar.

  It is a holiday rooted in mythology that occurs in late May or early June and is said to commemorate Qu Yuan, a Chinese patriot of the fourth century B.C., a poet and scholar who, to draw attention to the corruption in his country, drowned himself in protest. He either lost the confidence of his emperor or was forced from his position of scholarship by corrupt officials, but whatever his circumstance, he wrote a series of poems that expressed his sorrow, but also his love for his country and its people.

  People raced to the river in a vain effort to save him. They slapped at the water with their oars to frighten away any fish that might come to feed on him, and threw rice dumplings wrapped in silk into the waters to give him sustenance and honor. The Dragon Boat Festival annually honors Qu Yuan, and appeases the great dragon who controls the waters, so that there will be sufficient rainfall and well-irrigated fields to ensure abundant crops.

  This tale is memorialized in rowing competitions up and down China, with each town or municipality entering brightly painted longboats, with carved dragon heads jutting upward from their bows. The paddlers move in perfect unison, and prizes are awarded to the winners. In recent years there have even been boats entered from the United States and other western countries. In both Siu Lo Chun, my village, and Sah Gau, Ah Paw’s town, I loved to watch the dragon boat teams as they trained for weeks before the festival.

  Because it was a national holiday, we would have a banquet that would see roasted suckling pig at our table, along with Guangfu Chicken, quite a bit of seafood such as shrimp and crab, and certainly a steamed fish. But the one food we had to have were cheong, glutinous rice dumplings with a variety of fillings. They were small pyramids of steamed glutinous rice filled with salted duck eggs, pork, chestnuts or red bean paste.

  The most famous of these traditional dumplings were ham yuk cheong, stuffed with a mix of pork, chicken, mung beans and salted duck egg yolks and wrapped tightly with fresh bamboo leaves, then poached in boiling water. It was perfectly named “for all,” since we all shared in it. However, these delicacies were just an introduction to our Dragon Boat evening banquet, the centerpiece of which was a grand dish of tradition, Lo Soi Duck.

  Lo Soi Duck

  (LO SOI OP)

  What is important with this preparation is the sauce, the lo soi, a master sauce, constantly replenished, used for months and years, a sauce without end. The literal translation of the words lo soi is “old water,” which describes it perfectly, if not with the elegance it deserves. Once a duck is cooked in lo soi, that sauce becomes the sauce for the next duck, and so on. Ah Paw had a lo soi in her kitchen that had been there for many, many years. Each day, at her order, it was brought

  to a boil to preserve it, keep it potent and to ensure its longevity. Occasionally flavors and spices were added to it. Once a duck had been cooked in it, the remaining sauce, the new lo soi, could be used to cook two to three additional ducks, without any additional ingredients. To this day, master chefs throughout China guard their lo soi, even passing them on to their successors.

  4 pieces 8-star anise

  4 cinnamon sticks, each 3 inches long

  ½ tablespoon fennel seed

  ½ teaspoon Sichuan peppercorns

  ½ dried tangerine peel

  6 pieces licorice root, each 1½ inches long

  1 whole nutmeg

  ½ teaspoon whole cloves

  1 piece ginger, 2 inches long lightly smashed

  4 cloves garlic, peeled

  3 scallions, each cut into 3-inch pieces

  5 cups cold water

  5 cups Chicken Stock (page 13)

  2 cups dark soy sauce

  2 cups light soy sauce

  1 pound rock sugar, or light brown sugar

  ¾ cup Mei Kuei Lu Chiew rose petal spirit, or gin

  1 5- to 5½-pound freshly killed duck

  ¼ cup salt

  PREPARE A SMALL SPICE PILLOW: Fold a 10-inch square piece of cheesecloth in half, then half again, to create a 5-inch square. Sew 2 of the 3 open sides closed. Place all ingredients from 8-star anise to scallions in the pillow and sew it closed.

  PREPARE THE LO SOI: In a large pot place cold water, stock and spice pillow and bring to a boil over high heat. Add two soy sauces, return to a boil. Add sugar, stir to dissolve and return to a boil. Add rose spirit and return to a boil. Lower heat, simmer for 1 hour, covered, leaving a small opening at the lid.

  WHILE THE LO SOI SIMMERS, PREPARE THE DUCK: Wash it thoroughly inside cavity and out and remove membranes. Rub ¼ cup salt over duck, rinse off, drain well. Cut off first two joints of both wings, discard.

  Place a cake rack in the pot. Lower duck, breast side down, onto rack. Turn heat to high and bring lo soi back to a boil. Lower heat immediately and simmer duck, covered for 2 hours, if head is on; 1½ hours if head is off. Ladle sauce over duck periodically if it is not completely covered. Make certain heat is low, so the duck skin will not split. Turn off heat. Allow duck to rest in the lo soi for 1 hour, to fully absorb the sauce. Remove to a cutting board, cut into bite-size pieces, remove to a heated platter and serve immediately. The lo soi may be kept indefinitely, refrigerated. I recommend bringing to a boil at least every 2 months.

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  WE CELEBRATED A MOREGENTLE FESTIVAL very soon after the Dragon Festival, as the year edged into August, a feast celebra
ting love and marriage instead of revenge. The Maiden’s Festival, or more familiarly, The Feast of the Seven Sisters, was observed by young, unmarried women. Its mythology is sweet, and tells the tale of two young lovers, a cow herder and a fairy, who became separated by the gods, and were forced to live on separate stars. The birds of the air took pity on them, however, and once a year the birds flew in unison, creating a heavenly bridge with their outstretched wings, which enabled the lovers to meet between their stars.

  It was a lovely story, told to me repeatedly by Ah Paw, and celebrated in a quiet way. Offerings of fruit were made to the gods in heaven, along with paper flowers and money, burnt to send upward. In particular, Ah Paw urged, I should pray to, and offer oranges to, the goddess P’ei Ku, who could, it was believed, make women beautiful, accomplished and desirable as wives.

  Ah Paw saw to it that I ate only fruit on this day, as was the custom for young and unmarried women, and talked to me of future husbands. She would pick up a pair of chopsticks, hold them low, closer to the ends that picked up food, then slide her hand back so that she was holding them far to the tops. If I held my chopsticks close to the bottom, Ah Paw said, I would marry a husband close to where I lived. If I held them near the tops, I would marry a man from far away. I do not remember exactly how I held my chopsticks then, but it must have been near the top.

  September was an important month in our family, for two birthdays occurred in it: those of Confucius and my grandmother, Ah Paw.

  Confucius was most important to Ah Paw. Though she was a religious Buddhist, much of her manners and morality, her behavior toward others and her attitudes regarding social order came from the Analects of Confucius, which she would repeat to me often as lessons, more so on his birthday. Confucius was a simple man, she would say, who when asked his opinion of war he said he knew more about preparing meat for his lunch than he did about war.

  Much of what she taught me had to do with Confucius and food, with food as a constant metaphor for other aspects of life. He was the simplest of men, she said, who thought so much of food, its tastes and preparations that he would specify precisely how foods ought to be cut before cooking. He was nevertheless content with “a small amount of dried meat,” and happy with “plain food to eat and pure water to drink.”

  Confucius desired rice to be at its whitest, meat finely diced or sliced. If food was overcooked, he would not eat it. If fish or meat had lost their color, he would not eat it. If food had what he thought was a distasteful odor, he would not eat it. He insisted, Ah Paw said, that food be eaten in season, not be preserved, and that sauces served with food should enhance it, not change its nature. He would sip a bit of wine out of politeness, but “would have no meal that did not have some ginger.”

  We would eat simply on Confucius’s birthday, a meal of rice and vegetables, and of a dish that Ah Paw believed Confucius would have liked for its felicitous assortment of ingredients.

  Dragon and Phoenix Soup

  (LUNG FUNG TONG)

  This soup is symbolic as well, the lobster, or “dragon shrimp,” representing the emperor, the chicken, or the phoenix, a representation of the empress. It is also a symbol of a happy marriage, and was served as part of a wedding day banquet. Ah Paw thought it just fine for Confucius’s birthday, and it was served annually on the occasion. Incidentally, the soup was considered incomplete if it did not contain the “dragon’s whiskers,” or bean threads.

  MARINADES

  (Mix 2 identical marinades as below, one for chicken, one for lobster)

  1½ teaspoons ginger juice

  1 tablespoon Chinese white rice wine, or gin

  1 teaspoon light soy sauce

  ¾ teaspoon salt

  ¾ teaspoon sugar

  1 teaspoon sesame oil

  Pinch white pepper

  ½ teaspoon Chinese white rice vinegar, or distilled white vinegar

  2 teaspoons cornstarch

  12 ounces chicken cutlets, trimmed of fat and membranes, cut into ½-

  inch dice

  2 lobster tails, about 1 pound each, shelled, deveined, washed, dried and

  cut into ½-inch dice

  3 cups peanut oil

  1 ounce bean threads (half package)

  5 cups Chicken Stock (page 13)

  1 tablespoon minced ginger

  2 cloves garlic, minced

  ½ cup fresh mushrooms, cut into ½-inch dice

  ½ cup bamboo shoots, cut into ⅓-inch dice

  ½ cup fresh peas (or frozen, allow to defrost)

  3 egg whites, beaten

  ¼ cup scallions, finely sliced

  Marinade chicken and lobster in their individual marinade. Allow to rest 30 minutes each and reserve.

  Heat wok over high heat 40 seconds, add peanut oil, coat wok with spatula. When a wisp of white smoke appears, add bean threads. These cook immediately, so have a strainer ready and pick them out of the wok with a strainer in 5 seconds. Drain and reserve.

  Pour chicken stock into a pot, add ginger and garlic, cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Add mushrooms and bamboo shoots, cover, return to a boil and allow to cook 2 minutes. Add peas, return to a boil. Add chicken and its marinade, stir to combine, return to a boil. Cook for 2 minutes, until chicken turns white. Add lobster and its marinade, stir. Add beaten eggs, mix gently with a ladle to permit eggs to blend. Add bean threads, stir. Add scallions, mix briefly. Turn off heat, pour into a heated tureen and serve immediately.

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  AH PAW’S BIRTHDAY CAME SOON AFTER, in September, and in her house it was a day of prayer, of wishing her well, with a series of special greetings, as the head of our family, finally preparing for her a dish of honor. I would turn over in her bed, hug her, and whisper, “Juk Nei Sahng Sun Fai Lok,” simply, “I wish you a happy birthday.” My reward was a smile and a return hug,

  On the morning of her birthday we ate no breakfast, for Ah Paw desired a small fast, before eating one bowl of a simple congee at lunch. She would then be carried to her big living room chair, in front of her ancestor altar. A pillow would be set at her feet and all of us in our family would kneel to her, offer her a cup of tea and extend our greetings, in order. First to kneel were my two aunts. Each gave her a cup of tea, each said, “Kung hei sun tai ghin hong,” or “Congratulations and good health.”

  My mother was next. Her words were “Sum seung yue ee,” or “Whatever you are thinking of will come true.” My brother, who knelt next, said, “Sau bei lam san,” or “Your life is as vast as the Southern Mountain,” a sentiment repeated by my cousin. I then knelt and wished her the same happy birthday as I had earlier, handing her a cup of tea. With each cup of tea, she would pour a few drops in front of her altar to share her tea with her deceased husband, then give each of us an envelope of lucky money. She always gave to others on her birthday. This included her servants, who were the last to kneel before her, after which they, my aunts and I went off to the kitchen to prepare Ah Paw’s birthday meal.

  And quite special it was: a shark’s fin soup that was said to clear and regenerate one’s skin; a sweet soup of birds’ nest, to keep one’s complexion youthful; sau bau, so-called birthday buns shaped like peaches, the symbols of a long life; a steamed fish and her favorite chicken.

  Grandmother’s Birthday Chicken

  (JO MOH SANG YAT GAI)

  This unusual and festive chicken, cooked in soy sauce, was always prepared for Ah Paw’s birthday. It was considered a dish of honor, one celebrating her position as family matriarch. Cooking this dish produces another of those “master sauces,” see yau. Once made it can be used to cook chicken again and again. On my grandmother’s birthday, hard-boiled eggs and the chicken’s liver and gizzards were often added to the sauce in her honor. Each time the sauce was used, additional seasonings were added, and the see yau became more complex and richer with age. These sauces are never discarded. In fact, I have one in my kitchen to this day.

  4 cups Chicken Stock (page 13)

  2 c
ups cold water

  3 cinnamon sticks, each 3 inches long

  4 whole pieces 8-star anise

  1 slice ginger, 2 inches thick lightly smashed

  5 ounces sugarcane sugar, or brown sugar

  1 cup double dark soy sauce

  1 cup Shao-Hsing wine, or sherry

  13½-pound whole chicken, thoroughly washed, cleaned inside and out,

  rubbed with ¼ cup salt and rinsed

  In a large pot, place chicken stock, water, cinnamon, star anise, ginger and sugar, cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Add soy sauce, return to a boil. Lower heat, cover pot, allow sauce to simmer 20 minutes. Return heat to high, add wine, return to a boil. Lower chicken, breast-side up, into liquid and return to a boil. Lower heat, cover pot and simmer for 20 minutes. Turn chicken over, simmer for another 20 minutes. Turn off heat and allow chicken to rest in liquid, covered, for 1 hour.

  Transfer to a cutting board, cut chicken into bite-size pieces and serve immediately.

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  NOTE The see yau may be saved for future use. Strain into a container and refrigerate. It will keep 2 to 3 months, and be a perfect base for cooking this chicken again. If you do this, add a little of each ingredient to the mix.