titus wong

Ondine, I am intrigued about some of the toppings you describe. How did you/your folks prepare the "chye poh" omelette? Would this be two/three eggs scrambled with minced zha cai (preserved Sichuan vegetable), and then poured into a well-oiled wok? You would end up with a large, thin pancake if you made sure to glaze the sides of the wok evenly, which you could then tear up with a spatula. Alternatively, you could fold it, lift the whole thing out, and carefully slice it. Is that what you mean? If so, it sounds very simple and delicious and I would be interested in trying it with congee. Would you add salt, or does the zha cai provide enough already? Does it have any other ingredients? Also, I've never seen the "tiny red shallots (the size of fat garlic cloves)" that you describe, although I've seen plenty of the commercial variety, usually marketed as deep-fried "red onions" in jars. Are the smaller shallots available in the U.S., and do you leave the shallots whole, or mince them? How long do they keep for (can they be made a day in advance)?

How very apt. With apologies to browniebaker, I am one of those who've long suspected the best use for mooncakes were as hockey pucks. They taste like sand (esp. if they're stale). Vaguely sweet, but dry, sand. I have never met one that I liked. Having said that, it's been ages since I've deigned to bite into one, and so, will go looking for one during the upcoming Autumn Moon festival.

Thanks for the hard info, mudbug! I did try wading through those threads earlier, but I didn't get to ChicoGirl's informative post until today. I didn't see the M.T.T. brand you specified in the website/link you posted (am I mistaken). I think I recognize the brand anyway as my granny used it. It has a green label, right? So all you do is oil+spicy bean curd+ong choy? Any salt, garlic?

Sorry, sorry, sorry! I just returned from a weeklong trip to the Canadian Rockies with my family, wending our way amongst the glacier-capped peaks in an entourage of three minivans. I did spy this thread while on vacation, but the unrelenting task of cajoling six hyperactive children forebore an earlier reply. I had a great time and got to share cooking tips with my mom and sisters-in-law. My ong choy cooking techniques have improved vastly now that I chop off the bottom third of the plant, but I think my efforts are still too over-seasoned for my tastes. I have been using the Filipino shrimp paste I purchased (in an effort to get rid of it), garlic, fish sauce, soy sauce, sherry, and a dash of sugar. In addition, I've blanched the vegetable prior to stir-frying it. This, I have become convinced, is overkill. Ong choy has a delicate flavor (tastes like tea to my unsophisticated palate) that is easily overwhelmed. I have resolved to return to the basic technique of sauteeing with a bit of garlic and a splash of sherry. In the future I might succumb to mashing up a cube of spicy fermented tofu just to investigate the results. Similarly, I'll want to check out the shrimp paste on it's own (Ong choy+shrimp paste+garlic+sherry) and later, with the Tra Chang (sp?) brand of Thai shrimp paste that Trillium recommended. BTW, glad to see that Hest888 was in Canada relatively soon before I got there. For the most part, my family confined our eating adventures to family restaurants. On the last full day of the trip, we visited the West Edmonton mall, supposedly the largest in the world (a claim I'm not sure I would be proud to voice myself). Despite that, the developers have modeled one wing of the mall into a Chinatown of sorts with a few Asian merchants and a massive, Costco-sized Asian grocery called T&T Supermarket. Visiting T&T Supermarket was an eye-opener for me if only for the sheer size of the place. I have visited a similar megamarket in the Chicagoland suburbs named Diho, but this place is simply on a larger scale of magnitude. It encompasses a sushi bar, a dim sum counter, a counter featuring Vietnamese sandwiches and baked goods, a Chinese bakery, a well-stocked seafood counter with numerous live specimens, and all the other typical accoutrements of a supermarket. I was duly impressed. So were my family who purchased packages of sushi, dim sum, styrofoam cups of congee and soy milk, Asian drinks and juices, and chowed down to their hearts content. My folks were particularly enamored of the boneless (*boneless* mark ye!) spicy chicken feet, the boneless spicy duck feet, spicy sliced pig ears, and spicy marinated conch. I felt my eyes going around and around as I took it all in. It was enough to tempt me to immigate to Canada.

Sorry for coming so late to the party, but I am irresistibly reminded of my PRC cousin's initial reaction when he was first introduced to to a salad bar in this country. This was in the early 80's when he and my aunt's family were fleeing a society ravaged by the Cultural Revolution. They had only been here for a few months when my parents took all of us out to a Denny's or a HoJo or an IHOP or some such analog. As I returned from the salad bar, my plate heaped high with spinach leaves and alfafa sprouts slathered in cool ranch (bear in mind I was a teenager at the time), my cousin's eyes bugged out. He pointed at my plate in horror and enunciated the word "Raw!" (si sende!) in Mandarin. He was totally aghast. My mother explained his discomfort having to do with the fact that vegetables are commonly fertilized with human waste in China. I was amused and enjoyed eating my salad with great relish while he recoiled in the corner. Doubtless, that was one of the many instances qualifying me for a one way ticket to Hell.

This is probably of very little help, but when I was a child, a friend of the family did serve us the wine rice as a dessert. I remember it vividly as they had used a candied preserved plum (suan mei) in its preparation. It was very unusual and extremely sour, but good.

You're so right about this vinegar thing; i had the gut feeling i need some splash of vinegar, but was unwilling to change much in the recipe (already substituting black mushrooms for oysters). On the positive side all this sweetness helped to keep a chicken skin from becoming mushy during the covered braising, and i got a nice crispy skin by putting a pan for two minutes under the broiler (neat trick i learnt on egullet!) I'm in the camp that eschews chinese lop chang because they're too darned sweet. I never cottoned to them while growing up although my Cantonese grandma employed them throughout her cooking opportunistically. I far prefer western sausages and have often substituted spicy Italian sausage when I thought I could get away with it. To tell the truth though, I shy away from substituting western sausages while cooking traditional Chinese fare for my family . It's just not worth the grief. Besides, there are a few dishes where lop chang work well, such as the steamed rice dish described above. However, if you don't have to worry about shrewish relatives, you should feel free to substitute your own favorite variety of extruded meat product.

bong, thanks for your post. Always nice to hear a different way of doing things.

Thanks for all the great info, Shiewie! Is the tung choy you're talking about, preserved mustard greens ("zha cai" in Mandarin)? Really salty and smelly? The sort of thing they sell in a big plastic tub soaking in brine? I've also seen them wrapped in individual plastic baggies. Editor's note: Ok, I just checked out the link you provided and saw that tung choy was listed alongside preserved mustard (green), so if you meant to say preserved mustard (zha cai), you probably would have. I'll have to take a look for tung choy when I get off work today. One last thing, although it ought to be pretty obvious. You do peel the skin from the hairy melon before slicing it, yes?

Hey Gary, Great site for recipes! Now I'll never get any work done. BTW, I used your picture of xiao lung bao as my wallpaper at work, prompting a lot of compliments from hungry co-workers. Thanks.

Wow, your recipes sound really authentic -- the kind of stuff my Cantonese grandma used to make. I'm really intrigued with your description of stuffed hairy melon but I'm a little unclear as to the preparation. Do you first cut it in half lengthwise and then into thirds or fourths, making little "boats"? I'm also curious about your use of toong choy, which I guess would be tang cai in Mandarin. If we're talking about the same vegetable (dark green with waxy leaves; slightly rubbery texture reminiscent of a succulent), I've only used it in chicken broth-based soups. I love the way it tastes, but have never prepared it otherwise. Could you give some pointers as to the meat mixture? Here's how I envision it: 8 oz. ground pork 1 cp. toong choy, chopped 1/4 cp. dried shrimp, soaked in water and minced 2 slices ginger, minced 1 T light soy 1 T sherry or rice wine 1 T cornstarch 1 egg 1 generous pinch, white pepper (Dropping in some minced shitakes might be called for, but I'm afraid of overwhelming the toong choy, although the shrimp may do it as well). Steam the whole thing over a wok for 40 minutes. Sounds like one of those wonderfully subtle southern Chinese dishes that I'll end up slathering chili sauce all over. Could you provide some more detail on the bitter melon/black bean chicken braising method? Thanks in advance. I know I'm asking a lot. As for the bitter melon discussion, I think someone told me to soak it in saltwater as well Or was it baking soda, the Chinese cooks' answer to everything? Melon too bitter? Soak it in baking soda and water. Cheap cut of beef too tough? Rub it with baking soda and leave overnight. Bamboo shoots and water chestnuts redolent with the taste of stainless steel from the tin? Blanch them in baking soda-infused boiling water. I did try boiling the bitter melon before stir-frying them with flank steak in a black bean sauce, but it still came out too bitter.

Thanks so much, trillium and Hest888, for your informative replies. I think both of you have correctly pinpointed my mistake -- the next time I try my hand at cooking kong xin cai, I'll be sure to chop off most of the bottom stalk. I do appreciate the detail of Hest888's response viz. blanching with sodium bicarbonate. I'll probably get to it this weekend. In retrospect, it should have been obvious that the fault lay in preparation as opposed to the available supply -- I've been pretty impressed with the quality of Asian produce in Chicago so far. trillium - thanks for your short monograph on the subject of shrimp pastes. I scrutinized the array of Malaysian products at my local Asian grocery and could not spot belecan. I would've asked but the place was mobbed after work and I was itching to get home. I did note that the Malaysian offerings had the common word "onigang" on their labels if that is at all significant. I wasn't blown away by the Filipino product -- it can be succinctly described as being salty and pinkish-red. That's it. I did however, pick up a bottle of spicy fermented tofu of the type to which my grandmother was addicted. mudbug - I was already aware of the ACCE$$ TO A$IAN VEGETABLE$ THESAURUS, but your other posts detailing further web sources have been very helpful. I am in the process of slowly wading through all the material as time/work permits. Thank you all!

I'll tell you which type I *DON'T* like. When I was growing up in Queens, my folks, who are Shanghainese, preferred xi fan (zhou or jook) with a consistency resembling wallpaper glue. That is to say, it was made with less water, no salt, no broth whatsoever, no ginger, no scallion, and simmered for a shorter period of time. They consumed vast quantities of the stuff through the winter with very few side dishes -- i.e., pork sung, spanish peanuts, and sometimes, a can of pickled cucumbers. Yech. I felt like a workhouse orphan. In fact, I got into hot water a few times for objecting too strenuously. Nowadays, when they visit, I will typically serve a broth-based zhou (sometimes duck, if I have a carcass leftover from dinner), with a higher proportion of fluid to rice, and with a couple of dried scallops thrown in good measure. To keep peace at the breakfast table, I refrain from adding anything else to their bowls, although I offer plenty of garnishes, including thin slices of red-cooked chicken gizzards, sliced pi dan, sliced xian dan (salt-cured eggs), preserved mustard greens, doufu yu (spicy fermented tofu) and whatever leftovers I may have sitting around. Can anyone tell me if my folks' version is truer to the actual Shanghainese paradigm? I hesitate to unjustly impugn Shanghainese cooks with this imputation -- after all, both my parents worked and neither really had the time to make a fancy breakfast.

I'm new to this forum but have been following this thread with great interest. Largely inspired by some of the posts here and in particular, by one article appearing in the Seattle Times, I've tried to perfect my technique for cooking water spinach (aka ong choy, kong xin cai, kang kung, phak bung, rau moung). I'm not pleased with my efforts. The greens always seem to be somewhat tougher than I prefer, or at least what I can recall from my childhood or experiences abroad. Initially, I believe the fault lay in picking out greens past their prime from my local Vietnamese greengrocer. Water spinach in my locale, is typically saran-wrapped in bunches, averaging two feet in length, and seems to be virtually identical from bunch to bunch. I resolved to find bunches with smaller, thinner leaves thinking this would be a good indication of younger, tender greens. Can anyone suggest a better method for picking good water spinach? It's possible as well, that I may not be cooking them properly. Typically, I remove the bottom two inches, and portion the remainder into 4" lengths. Most of the recipes I have discovered on the internet, claim that water spinach need not be sauteed for longer than a few minutes. Although the leaves remain bright green, the stalks are still more fibrous than I prefer. I usually blanch them beforehand, or simply leave them in the wok until they turn a far darker shade of green. Is this normal? I'm using a 14" aluminum wok (Magnalite), high heat, and usually, very little oil (one to two tablespoons on average). Can anyone suggest a better method for cooking water spinach? Am I doing something wrong? Following a suggestion from the Seattle Times article referenced below, I attempted to purchase shrimp paste. I discovered that several countries export it (Malaysia, the Philippines, and Thailand) under different labels and names. There seems to be roughly two types: salted and sauteed. I rolled the dice and picked up a Filipino brand of the sauteed variety. Price ($1.55 for 12 oz.) was largely the deciding factor here. Can anyone suggest a particular brand, and perhaps, a brief explanation between the two types, expressing a preference for one over the other? Thanks in advance if anyone can proffer some help. Link to Seattle Times article: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/pacificnw...0602/taste.html

Oops, posted in the wrong topic!

Shrimp with Lobster Sauce (Shrimp Cantonese) Serves 4 as Main Dish. After perusing an old topic, I decided to post this recipe in the hopes that someone will find it useful. BTW, the name of the dish refers to the style in which the shrimp are prepared, not to the actual inclusion of lobster as an ingredient. The idea is analogous to "Chicken Fried Steak." A better name might be "Shrimp in the style of Lobster," which is a bit cumbersome to say the least. As for the alternate name, "Shrimp Cantonese," I can't vouch for its authenticity, save that I clearly recall seeing it on the menus of various restaurants in NY's Chinatown when I was growing up. "Lobster Cantonese" however, was the prime variation. I believe that someone on the Chinese food board has already opined that Shrimp Cantonese is the poor man's version of Lobster Cantonese, which sounds quite plausible to me. Given that lobster is so expensive, I've substituted crab on one occasion, deep-fried and hacked into smaller pieces. I thought it worked very well, except that my guests were not accustomed to eating crab at the table, which proved to be a miscalculation on my part. One of my favorite childhood memories is that of the entire family gathered around the dinner table, cracking shells and digging out nuggets of crabmeat with unabashed gusto. If someone can offer any suggestions as to how to best prepare this dish with lobster or crab, I would be very grateful. One final point -- I've included shrimp brains as an ingredient here. Although optional, it contributes a lot to the overall flavor of the dish. I suspect a lot of home cooks do the same with their shrimp dishes, and I would appreciate any input on this practice. 1 lb shrimp with heads, shelled and deveined, heads reserved (opt.) 1 T sherry 2 T fermented black beans, minced and mashed with a cleaver along with 3 cloves garlic, minced & 2 scallions, chopped 4 slices ginger, minced 8 oz ground pork 1 dash, white pepper 1 T dark soy 1/2 cp. chicken stock 1 egg, lightly beaten 2 T corn, peanut, or canola oil 1-1/2 T cornstarch mixed with 1 T. water 1. Soak fermented black beans in enough water to cover for at least 5 min. Drain and combine with garlic cloves. With a cleaver, mince the black beans and garlic together until a paste-like consistency is achieved. Much, much better than bottled black bean sauce. 2. Shell and devein the shrimp. If you opt to reserve the heads, squeeze the red matter from each one with your hands onto a separate plate and discard the shell. You may wish to use gloves, as the spines on the shrimp make this a prickly process. Prepare all the other ingredients and set them aside. 3. In a hot wok or sauté pan, add one T. oil and swirl until the sides are evenly coated. Add shrimp add quickly stir-fry until the color changes. When they appear half-cooked, add sherry and continue cooking until it boils away or until the shrimp are just cooked. Remove them from pan and set aside. 4. Reheat the wok and add remaining oil. Add black beans/garlic, scallions, and ginger. Stir briskly until fragrant. Add ground pork and continue stirring until all the ingredients are well-incorporated and the meat is broken up. Add white pepper, soy, chicken stock, reserved shrimp brains, and egg. Continue stirring until the pork and egg have completely cooked. Add the cooked shrimp and the cornstarch/water mixture. Stir briefly until well-incorporated. Remove from heat and serve immediately with white rice. Keywords: Chinese, Shrimp, Main Dish, Seafood, Intermediate, Dinner ( RG578 )