Jump to content
  • Welcome to the eG Forums, a service of the eGullet Society for Culinary Arts & Letters. The Society is a 501(c)3 not-for-profit organization dedicated to the advancement of the culinary arts. These advertising-free forums are provided free of charge through donations from Society members. Anyone may read the forums, but to post you must create a free account.

hum sui gok/hom sui gok


prasantrin
 Share

Recommended Posts

I want hum sui gok, especially after Ah Leung was kind enough to eat some and post a picture of it in his HK homecoming topic. My mother will be visiting me shortly, and since we're already doing char sui bao and either joong or nor mai gai, I figure we may as well do hum sui gok, too!

But how do I make it--the dough part, in particular? I have a recipe from Eileen Yin-Fei Lo and it calls for glutinous rice flour mixed with cold water, salt, lard, and wheat starch mixed with boiling water. Does that sound like a typical recipe?

Also, my mother went to a Chinese/Vietnamese grocery store, and they sold her what they think should be used to make the dough. (I had asked specifically for wheat starch, but I don't think they knew what it was.) If by chance they sold her some glutinous rice flour (which I already have), can I make the dough just with glutinous rice flour?

I noticed that the recipe I have doesn't call for sugar, but the ones I've had at dim sum taste a wee bit sweet to me. Can I add sugar, or would that be a bad idea?

Finally, do you freeze them before or after cooking them?

Any help would be much appreciated! I'm really looking forward to our dim sum extravaganza!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

These are one of the dim sum that I haven't mastered yet, primarily because they're not my absolute favorites--I can take them or leave them. Based on my few attempts at making them I think your recipe sounds ok. You do need to have wheat starch in the dough to make the dough firm up, however. Without it the dough becomes too elastic and will burst while frying.

I'm not sure about the sugar, but I think if you were to add some you might have to reduce the wheat starch. (Sugar also helps keep the dough from bursting.)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

When Ah Leung posted the pictures of the hom sui gok. I thought it seemed a bit weird because I had never had a hom sui gok fried! It was always just steamed. Am I eating something else?

Assuming we're talking about the same thing, I've never seen my granny use sugar in the dough. And they always cooked it before freezing.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

When Ah Leung posted the pictures of the hom sui gok.  I thought it seemed a bit weird because I had never had a hom sui gok fried!  It was always just steamed.  Am I eating something else?

"Hom Sui Gok" sold in Hong Kong, as well as all the Chinese restaurants I have been to in the USA are deep-fried. Perhaps you were eating something else and they mislabelled it as Hom Sui Gok?

W.K. Leung ("Ah Leung") aka "hzrt8w"
Link to comment
Share on other sites

These are one of the dim sum that I haven't mastered yet, primarily because they're not my absolute favorites--I can take them or leave them.

Bite your tongue! They are always must-haves at any dim sum place I go to. But then, I have a thing for fried food... :biggrin:

Based on my few attempts at making them I think your recipe sounds ok. You do need to have wheat starch in the dough to make the dough firm up, however. Without it the dough becomes too elastic and will burst while frying.

I'm not sure about the sugar, but I think if you were to add some you might have to reduce the wheat starch. (Sugar also helps keep the dough from bursting.)

I talked to my mother last night, and she said the store sold her both glutinous rice flour and another kind of flour that is usually used for har gau wrappers, so I think it must be wheat starch.

I kind of like the idea of burst dough, though. Then the edges of the burst part get all crispy. Mmmmmmm :wub:

I'll skip on the sugar this time. I hope it turns out well! I can already taste them, and if the real flavour doesn't match what I have in my mind, I'll be very disappointed!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Doh, just called granny and she said what I'm talking about is "bak sui gok".  It's made w/ har gow dough and steamed.

She then put the nail in the coffin and said hom sui gok was fried...

Are the innards of bak sui gok the same as for hum sui gok?

I was thinking of using some of the leftover filling (I haven't made it, yet, but I always end up with leftover filling) in some steamed bao, but since we were going to try making har gau, anyway, maybe we can use the extra filling with some har gau wrappers.

In Winnipeg, by the way, potstickers are called "pan fried perogy" and ham sui gok are "deep fried perogy". Kind of lets you know the demographics of the area! :laugh:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I was thinking of using some of the leftover filling (I haven't made it, yet, but I always end up with leftover filling) in some steamed bao, but since we were going to try making har gau, anyway, maybe we can use the extra filling with some har gau wrappers. 

In Winnipeg, by the way, potstickers are called "pan fried perogy" and ham sui gok are "deep fried perogy".  Kind of lets you know the demographics of the area! :laugh:

If you use the leftover filling in har gow wrappers, then they are called fan suor in Toisanese.

The store probably did sell your Mom wheat starch as that is the kind for har gow.

If you like your hom sui gok to burst, you'd better wear a face shield and cover your arms. They can really explode on you!

Dejah

www.hillmanweb.com

Link to comment
Share on other sites

If you use the leftover filling in har gow wrappers, then they are called fan suor in Toisanese.

The store probably did sell your Mom wheat starch as that is the kind for har gow.

You mean I didn't invent my own dim sum item? And I thought i was being so creative!

Good to know about the wheat starch. I was really worried that my hum sui gok was going to suck!

If you like your hom sui gok to burst, you'd better wear a face shield and cover your arms. They can really explode on you!

:unsure: Maybe I'll just fry some thinly rolled pieces of the dough, then. It takes forever for burns on my skin to heal! It's my delicate Asian skin, doncha know!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

How is that "ham sui gok" experiment coming along? :biggrin:

One thing that I kind of wondered is: in "ham sui gok", as in "geen dui" (deep-fried glutinous rice flour dough with sweet (red bean paste) filling), how do they create the hollowness in the "gok"? When you wrap the "gok", isn't it flat? What's the trick to get the air bubble in? Or the thing would just automatically inflate when you deep-fry it?

W.K. Leung ("Ah Leung") aka "hzrt8w"
Link to comment
Share on other sites

One thing that I kind of wondered is:  in "ham sui gok", as in "geen dui" (deep-fried glutinous rice flour dough with sweet (red bean paste) filling), how do they create the hollowness in the "gok"?  When you wrap the "gok", isn't it flat?  What's the trick to get the air bubble in?  Or the thing would just automatically inflate when you deep-fry it?

While they are frying you press them firmly against the side or bottom of the pan so that the dough stretches a little. As you do that the built up steam pressure inside will push against the dough and make them expand. But you only need to do that with geen dui, not hom sui gok.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

How is that "ham sui gok" experiment coming along?    :biggrin:

One thing that I kind of wondered is:  in "ham sui gok", as in "geen dui" (deep-fried glutinous rice flour dough with sweet (red bean paste) filling), how do they create the hollowness in the "gok"?  When you wrap the "gok", isn't it flat?  What's the trick to get the air bubble in?  Or the thing would just automatically inflate when you deep-fry it?

My understanding is that it is a bit like making a clay pot. You are thinning and bringing the dough together to make a "balloon". The trick is how to close it off - I guess you need to have just enough dough at the "neck" to pinch it closed.

Best Wishes,

Chee Fai.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

How is that "ham sui gok" experiment coming along?    :biggrin:

I think Thursday is the big dim sum extravaganza day, if all goes as planned (it's a "home study day" for students, which usually means I can do my marking or other work at home). There have already been a couple of hiccups in my dim sum plan, but I'm going to do my best!

The nor mai gai might have to wait for another day, though. I think I'll just do char sui bao, hum sui gok, and maybe har gau for Wednesday.

One thing that I kind of wondered is:  in "ham sui gok", as in "geen dui" (deep-fried glutinous rice flour dough with sweet (red bean paste) filling), how do they create the hollowness in the "gok"?  When you wrap the "gok", isn't it flat?  What's the trick to get the air bubble in?  Or the thing would just automatically inflate when you deep-fry it?

I'm definitely the wrong person to ask, but I'll let you know what happens!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

One thing that I kind of wondered is:  in "ham sui gok", as in "geen dui" (deep-fried glutinous rice flour dough with sweet (red bean paste) filling), how do they create the hollowness in the "gok"?  When you wrap the "gok", isn't it flat?  What's the trick to get the air bubble in?  Or the thing would just automatically inflate when you deep-fry it?

My understanding is that it is a bit like making a clay pot. You are thinning and bringing the dough together to make a "balloon". The trick is how to close it off - I guess you need to have just enough dough at the "neck" to pinch it closed.

My Mom used to blow air into a completed geen dui, twist and seal the neck then deep fry - in the method described by sheets:

While they are frying you press them firmly against the side or bottom of the pan so that the dough stretches a little. As you do that the built up steam pressure inside will push against the dough and make them expand. But you only need to do that with geen dui, not hom sui gok.

She stopped blowing air in as she got older. Funny how she thought that as she got older, she may have some dreadful germs in her breath! :blink:

It all depends on the flour used. The ones my mom makes for Chinese New Year "bai sun" deflates after a day or two. That may be because the walls are thin. Other ones, maybe called something different, are crispy. The store-bought ones last year were hard as rock! The only one who ate them - without permission - was our dog!

:hmmm: Wait...My Mom called them "chung tay":

http://www.hillmanweb.com/soos/seedball.html

Dejah

www.hillmanweb.com

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The store-bought ones last year were hard as rock! The only one who ate them - without permission - was our dog!

They'll be harder and hold their shape better if you mix some wheat starch in with the glutinous rice flour. Personally, I like the soft chewy ones made with only glutinous rice flour, especially when they're hot.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, the day has almost come and gone. I still haven't done any of my marking, but I have made my hum sui gok! The good thing is...I survived. The bad thing is...I probably won't be doing this again. I now understand why not all Chinese restaurants do dim sum--it's a heck of a lot of work!

As for my hsg, the filling is OK, but not really what I like. It's a lot drier than the type I've had at dim sum places. Also, the casing is quite flavourless--I like it to be a bit sweeter.

And for the record, splatter guards don't actually prevent oil from splattering up, they just lessen the amount of hot oil to scald your skin!

ETA: pics will be up tomorrow or perhaps next week if I forget to bring my camera to work.

Edited by prasantrin (log)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I hope y'all aren't too disappointed with my efforts, but here are the pictures!

First, when I made the dough I had no idea what to expect. I mixed the glutinous rice flour with cold water, and the wheat starch with boiling water, then added lard and something else but I can't remember what. When it first came together, I was pretty worried. I didn't think it would ever become one mass. Plus I had to do all the mixing and kneading by hand, since I don't have a stand mixer. But I managed, and it looked OK (as far as I knew, since I didn't know what it was supposed to look like!).

As for the filling, I thought it would be a wee bit saucier. And clearly, I didn't take the time to mince the shrimp into smaller pieces, nor did I take the time to break up the ground pork as it cooked. This would come back to haunt me later.

gallery_11355_5288_12801.jpg

Next, I quartered the dough, then rolled out the first quarter into a 14-inch rope. I cut it into 14 pieces, and rolled the first piece out. I rolled beautifully, but when I started to fill it, that was where things started to fall apart--literally. I didn't expect the dough to be so delicate, but my largish pieces of shrimp and pork didn't help any. They poked holes through the dough. This made me very afraid, because I remembered Dejah's warnings about them breaking apart and hot oil splashing around. So I ended up making 11 or 12 pieces from those 14 pieces, and then used the remaining pieces to patch up the holes in the ones I was able to make.

gallery_11355_5288_14789.jpg

Then came the frying. The recipe said to heat the oil to 325-350F. I used 170C, but for some reason, my oil kept wanting to climb higher--about 190C. I put the hum sui gok in, but the temperature didn't lower much, so I turned down the stove. The heat seemed to be quite low, but the temp. was 170-175C, which I figured was OK. But then the remaining hum sui gok just wouldn't brown. The dough cooked through, but remained pale. Also, some of my thin ones broke and caused quite a bit of oil to splatter. Luckily I used a splatter guard, because if I hadn't my apartment floor, walls, and kitchen counter would be covered in oil. This is one of my better-looking ones. Some of the ones I had patched up looked like they had tumours!

gallery_11355_5288_4854.jpg

The innards were sparse (couldn't use too much filling or the casing would break), and that first night, I thought my hum sui gok kind of sucked. I had definitely had better, but hey, it was my first try! My mother said the filling was good, but the casing wasn't very flavourful.

gallery_11355_5288_15802.jpg

The next day, I tried one cold. It wasn't crispy, of course, but it sure did taste better! So I helped myself to a few more... :biggrin:

I ended up making fewer than the 48 the recipe claims to make, because I wanted to make my casing thicker to prevent breakage. I think I only got about 30 or 35 pieces out of it. I now have 20 left (I guess I decided I really liked them :raz: ), so I'll freeze them, then pan fry them to recrisp and hopefully brown them.

I think I just might make these again, when I have a lot of time on my hands. I do like them a lot more now than when I first made them. I think next time, I'll make the filling the day before to give the flavours time to meld.

Thanks for all the help and encouragement!

(I did finish all my marking and my grades, so now I just have to finish making my char siu bao!)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hey, not bad for a first effort! I've come across some hom sui gok that were pale like yours before, so it's just the style of the recipe. Adding sugar would make them brown like the ones you get at dim sum restaurants. It's also common to add some mashed sweet potatoes to the dough, although that's more homestyle than restaurant style.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I can't remember who sent me the recipe for hom siu gok - someone here, and the recipe had mashed cooked yam in the dough - 6 oz. of yams to 1 lb of glutinous flour.

For sweet version, the recipe called for Chinese brown sugar.

Can someone please chime up if you sent me the recipe?

Glad you made the baos and hom siu gok, Rona. :biggrin: Joongzi next?

Dejah

www.hillmanweb.com

Link to comment
Share on other sites

How much sugar would I have to add to the dough to make it a touch sweet, but not too sweet? My recipe uses 2cups gl. rice flour+7oz cold water, 3/4c wheat starch+7oz boiling water, 1/2 t salt and 4T lard. Would I have to cut down on any of the ingredients or add anything else if I add sugar? Could I just add white sugar, or does it have to be Chinese brown sugar? I have white sugar, brown sugar (light and dark), and palm sugar, and I have access to demerera and muscovado, so I could use any of those.

I can't really add yam or sweet potatoes, I think, because Japanese sweet potatoes are so different. And my mother forgot to bring the sweet potato I had asked her to sneak into the country. :sad:

And thanks for the kind comments about my hum sui gok...it almost makes me want to try again to improve on my first attempt!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 Share

  • Similar Content

    • By liuzhou
      Sea fish in my local supermarket
       
       
      In the past I've started a few topics focusing on categorised food types I find in China. I’ve done
       
      Mushrooms and Fungi in China
       
      Chinese Vegetables Illustrated
       
      Sugar in China
       
      Chinese Herbs and Spices
       
      Chinese Pickles and Preserves
       
      Chinese Hams.
       
      I’ve enjoyed doing them as I learn a lot and I hope that some people find them useful or just interesting.
       
      One I’ve always resisted doing is Fish etc in China. Although it’s interesting and I love fish, it just felt too complicated. A lot of the fish and other marine animals I see here, I can’t identify, even if I know the local name. The same species may have different names in different supermarkets or wet markets. And, as everywhere, a lot of fish is simply mislabelled, either out of ignorance or plain fraud.
       
      However, I’ve decided to give it a go.
       
      I read that 60% of fish consumed in China is freshwater fish. I doubt that figure refers to fresh fish though. In most of China only freshwater fish is available. Seawater fish doesn’t travel very far inland. It is becoming more available as infrastructure improves, but it’s still low. Dried seawater fish is used, but only in small quantities as is frozen food in general. I live near enough the sea to get fresh sea fish, but 20 years ago when I lived in Hunan I never saw it. Having been brought up yards from the sea, I sorely missed it.
       
      I’ll start with the freshwater fish. Today, much of this is farmed, but traditionally came from lakes and rivers, as much still does. Most villages in the rural parts have their village fish pond. By far the most popular fish are the various members of the carp family with 草鱼 (cǎo yú) - Ctenopharyngodon idella - Grass Carp being the most raised and consumed. These (and the other freshwater fish) are normally sold live and every supermarket, market (and often restaurants) has ranks of tanks holding them.
       

      Supermarket Freshwater Fish Tanks

      You point at the one you want and the server nets it out. In markets, super or not, you can either take it away still wriggling or, if you are squeamish, the server will kill, descale and gut it for you. In restaurants, the staff often display the live fish to the table before cooking it.
       
      These are either steamed with aromatics – garlic, ginger, scallions and coriander leaf / cilantro being common – or braised in a spicy sauce or, less often, a sweet and sour sauce or they are simply fried. It largely depends on the region.
       
      Note that, in China, nearly all fish is served head on and on-the-bone.
       

      草鱼 (cǎo yú) - Ctenopharyngodon idella - grass carp
       
      More tomorrow.
    • By liuzhou
      Big Plate Chicken - 大盘鸡 (dà pán jī)
       

       
      This very filling dish of chicken and potato stew is from Xinjiang province in China's far west, although it is said to have been invented by a visitor from Sichuan. In recent years, it has become popular in cities across China, where it is made using a whole chicken which is chopped, with skin and on the bone, into small pieces suitable for easy chopstick handling. If you want to go that way, any Asian market should be able to chop the bird for you. Otherwise you may use boneless chicken thighs instead.

      Ingredients

      Chicken chopped on the bone or Boneless skinless chicken thighs  6

      Light soy sauce

      Dark soy sauce

      Shaoxing wine

      Cornstarch or similar. I use potato starch.

      Vegetable oil (not olive oil)

      Star anise, 4

      Cinnamon, 1 stick

      Bay leaves, 5 or 6

      Fresh ginger, 6 coin sized slices

      Garlic.  5 cloves, roughly chopped

      Sichuan peppercorns,  1 tablespoon

      Whole dried red chillies,   6 -10  (optional). If you can source the Sichuan chiles known as Facing Heaven Chiles, so much the better.

      Potatoes 2 or 3 medium sized. peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces

      Carrot. 1,  thinly sliced

      Dried wheat noodles.  8 oz. Traditionally, these would be a long, flat thick variety. I've use Italian tagliatelle successfully.    

      Red bell pepper. 1 cut into chunks

      Green bell pepper, 1 cut into chunks

      Salt

      Scallion, 2 sliced.
         
      Method

      First, cut the chicken into bite sized pieces and marinate in 1½ teaspoons light soy sauce, 3 teaspoons of Shaoxing and 1½ teaspoons of cornstarch. Set aside for about twenty minutes while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

      Heat the wok and add three tablespoons cooking oil. Add the ginger, garlic, star anise, cinnamon stick, bay leaves, Sichuan peppercorns and chilies. Fry on a low heat for a  minute or so. If they look about to burn, splash a little water into your wok. This will lower the temperature slightly. Add the chicken and turn up the heat. Continue frying until the meat is nicely seared, then add the potatoes and carrots. Stir fry a minute more then add 2 teaspoons of the dark soy sauce, 2 tablespoons of the light soy sauce and 2 tablespoons of the Shaoxing wine along with 3 cups of water. Bring to a boil, then reduce to medium. Cover and cook for around 15-20 minutes until the potatoes are done.

      While the main dish is cooking, cook the noodles separately according to the packet instructions.  Reserve  some of the noodle cooking water and drain.

      When the chicken and potatoes are done, you may add a little of the noodle water if the dish appears on the dry side. It should be saucy, but not soupy. Add the bell peppers and cook for three to four minutes more. Add scallions. Check seasoning and add some salt if it needs it. It may not due to the soy sauce and, if in the USA, Shaoxing wine.

      Serve on a large plate for everyone to help themselves from. Plate the noodles first, then cover with the meat and potato. Enjoy.
       
    • By liuzhou
      Way back in the 1990’s, I was living in west Hunan, a truly beautiful part of China. One day, some colleagues suggested we all go for lunch the next day, a Saturday. Seemed reasonable to me. I like a bit of lunch.
       
      “OK. We’ll pick you up at 7 am.”
       
      “Excuse me? 7 am for lunch?
       
      “Yes. We have to go by car.”
       
      Well, of course, they finally picked me up at 8.30, drove in circles for an hour trying to find the guy who knew the way, then headed off into the wilds of Hunan. We drove for hours, but the scenery was beautiful, and the thousand foot drops at the side of the crash barrier free road as we headed up the mountains certainly kept me awake.
       
      After an eternity of bad driving along hair-raising roads which had this old atheist praying, we stopped at a run down shack in the middle of nowhere. I assumed that this was a temporary stop because the driver needed to cop a urination or something, but no. This was our lunch venue.
       
      We shuffled into one of the two rooms the shack consisted of and I distinctly remember that one of my hosts took charge of the lunch ordering process.
       
      “We want lunch for eight.” There was no menu.
       
      The waitress, who was also the cook, scuttled away to the other room of the shack which was apparently a kitchen.
       
      We sat there for a while discussing the shocking rise in bean sprout prices and other matters of national importance, then the first dish turned up. A pile of steaming hot meat surrounded by steaming hot chillies. It was delicious.
       
      “What is this meat?” I asked.
       
      About half of the party spoke some English, but my Chinese was even worse than it is now, so communications weren’t all they could be. There was a brief (by Chinese standards) meeting and they announced:
       
      “It’s wild animal.”
       
      Over the next hour or so, several other dishes arrived. They were all piles of steaming hot meat surrounded by steaming hot chillies, but the sauces and vegetable accompaniments varied. And all were very, very good indeed.
       
      “What’s this one?” I ventured.
       
      “A different wild animal.”
       
      “And this?”
       
      “Another wild animal.”
       
      “And this?”
       
      “A wild animal which is not the wild animal in the other dishes”
       
      I wandered off to the kitchen, as you can do in rural Chinese restaurants, and inspected the contents of their larder, fridge, etc. No clues.
       
      I returned to the table with a bit of an idea.
       
      “Please write down the Chinese names of all these animals we have eaten. I will look in my dictionary when I get home.”
       
      They looked at each other, consulted, argued and finally announced:
       
      “Sorry! We don’t know in Chinese either. “
       
      Whether that was true or just a way to get out of telling me what I had eaten, I’ll never know. I certainly wouldn’t be able to find the restaurant again.
       
      This all took place way back in the days before digital cameras, so I have no illustrations from that particular meal. But I’m guessing one of the dishes was bamboo rat.
       
      No pandas or tigers were injured in the making of this post
       
    • By liuzhou
      Note: This follows on from the Munching with the Miao topic.
       
      The three-hour journey north from Miao territory ended up taking four, as the driver missed a turning and we had to drive on to the next exit and go back. But our hosts waited for us at the expressway exit and led us up a winding road to our destination - Buyang 10,000 mu tea plantation (布央万亩茶园 bù yāng wàn mǔ chá yuán) The 'mu' is  a Chinese measurement of area equal to 0.07 of a hectare, but the 10,000 figure is just another Chinese way of saying "very large".
       
      We were in Sanjiang Dong Autonomous County, where 57% of the inhabitants are Dong.
       
      The Dong people (also known as the Kam) are noted for their tea, love of glutinous rice and their carpentry and architecture. And their hospitality. They tend to live at the foot of mountains, unlike the Miao who live in the mid-levels.
       
      By the time we arrived, it was lunch time, but first we had to have a sip of the local tea. This lady did the preparation duty.
       

       

       
      This was what we call black tea, but the Chinese more sensibly call 'red tea'. There is something special about drinking tea when you can see the bush it grew on just outside the window!
       
      Then into lunch:
       

       

      Chicken Soup
       

      The ubiquitous Egg and Tomato
       

      Dried fish with soy beans and chilli peppers. Delicious.
       

      Stir fried lotus root
       

      Daikon Radish
       

      Rice Paddy Fish Deep Fried in Camellia Oil - wonderful with a smoky flavour, but they are not smoked.
       

      Out of Focus Corn and mixed vegetable
       

      Fried Beans
       

      Steamed Pumpkin
       

      Chicken
       

      Beef with Bitter Melon
       

      Glutinous (Sticky) Rice
       

      Oranges
       

      The juiciest pomelo ever. The area is known for the quality of its pomelos.
       
      After lunch we headed out to explore the tea plantation.
       

       

       

       

       
      Interspersed with the tea plants are these camellia trees, the seeds of which are used to make the Dong people's preferred cooking oil.
       

       
      As we climbed the terraces we could hear singing and then came across this group of women. They are the tea pickers. It isn't tea picking time, but they came out in their traditional costumes to welcome us with their call and response music. They do often sing when picking. They were clearly enjoying themselves.
       

       
      And here they are:
       
       
      After our serenade we headed off again, this time to the east and the most memorable meal of the trip. Coming soon.
       
       
    • By liuzhou
      It sometimes seems likes every town in China has its own special take on noodles. Here in Liuzhou, Guangxi the local dish is Luosifen (螺蛳粉 luó sī fěn).
       
      It is a dish of rice noodles served in a very spicy stock made from the local river snails and pig bones which are stewed for hours with black cardamom, fennel seed, dried tangerine peel, cassia bark, cloves, pepper, bay leaf, licorice root, sand ginger, and star anise. Various pickled vegetables, dried tofu skin, fresh green vegetables, peanuts and loads of chilli are then usually added. Few restaurants ever reveal their precise recipe, so this is tentative. Luosifen is only really eaten in small restaurants and roadside stalls. I've never heard of anyone making it at home.
       
      In order to promote tourism to the city, the local government organised a food festival featuring an event named "10,000 people eat luosifen together." (In Chinese 10,000 often just means "many".)
       
      10,000 people (or a lot of people anyway) gathered at Liuzhou International Convention and Exhibition Centre for the grand Liuzhou luosifen eat-in. Well, they gathered in front of the centre – the actual centre is a bleak, unfinished, deserted shell of a building. I disguised myself as a noodle and joined them. 10,001.
       

       
      The vast majority of the 10,000 were students from the local colleges who patiently and happily lined up to be seated. Hey, mix students and free food – of course they are happy.
       

       
      Each table was equipped with a basket containing bottled water, a thermos flask of hot water, paper bowls, tissues etc. And most importantly, a bunch of Luosifen caps. These read “万人同品螺蛳粉” which means “10,000 people together enjoy luosifen”
       

       
      Yep, that is the soup pot! 15 meters in diameter and holding eleven tons of stock. Full of snails and pork bones, spices etc. Chefs delicately added ingredients to achieve the precise, subtle taste required.
       

       
      Noodles were distributed, soup added and dried ingredients incorporated then there was the sound of 10,000 people slurping.
       

      Surrounding the luosifen eating area were several stalls selling different goodies. Lamb kebabs (羊肉串) seemed most popular, but there was all sorts of food. Here are few of the delights on offer.
       

      Whole roast lamb or roast chicken
       

      Lamb Kebabs
       

      Kebab spice mix – Cumin, chilli powder, salt and MSG
       

      Kebab stall
       

      Crab
       

      Different crab
       

      Sweet sticky rice balls
       

      Things on sticks
       

      Grilled scorpions
       

      Pig bones and bits
       

      Snails
       
      And much more.
       
      To be honest, it wasn’t the best luosifen I’ve ever eaten, but it was wasn’t the worst. Especially when you consider the number they were catering for. But it was a lot of fun. Which was the point.
       
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...