Showing posts with label steamed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steamed. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Steamed Egg with Shrimp (蝦仁蒸蛋)

I'm back today with another take on a Pei Mei recipe, this time from volume II. Steamed egg is a Chinese homestyle classic, but one with which I don't personally have much history. I think I've had it a few times, many years ago. It's certainly unlike anything else I've cooked in recent memory. The texture is silky smooth and the whole bowl jiggles like Jell-O. It's basically a savory custard, which isn't a common thing in Western cuisine. The name of the dish in Chinese is xiaren zhengdan, which translates to "shrimp meat steamed egg." 


As this is unlike anything I've cooked before, I stuck fairly close to Pei Mei's recipe. I did consult a few other sources, including Souped Up Recipes and the Woks of Life. The cooking time is the trickiest part here. Pei Mei says to steam on high for 2 minutes and low for 20 minutes. After about 10 minutes on low, I checked the eggs and they were still completely raw. I then turned it back up, so in the recipe, I'm recommending staying on high for about 9 minutes. I added the shrimp only for the last 3, to make sure they didn't get overcooked.


I used my homemade Chinese shrimp stock to pair with the shrimp on top. This gave the eggs a subtle shrimp flavor, which was quite pleasant. Chicken stock, again in the Chinese style, would also work well, I think. There are many variations to this dish, with different toppings and flavorings. I'm definitely going to try it again and play around with it more. I served with rice and stir-fried broccoli to round out a perfect meal for two.

Saturday, June 13, 2020

Steamed Pork Cake (蒸肉餅)

This Cantonese steamed pork cake might be the least photogenic food I've ever made. Despite its humble appearance, though, it's packed with flavor and easy to make. As you might have guessed, this is true home style food. I have some vague memories of my grandparents making something similar, but it was so long ago that I'm not quite sure. The basic concept is a giant pork burger that is something of a blank canvas. This recipe mixes in ham, mushrooms, and water chestnuts. The Woks of Life has done versions with preserved vegetables and salted fish. I think Chinese sausage, sauerkraut, or even shrimp would work, too. Being cooked entirely by steaming, there is no browning and this dish relies on its ingredients for flavor. We get some umami bursts from the mushrooms and a little crunch from the water chestnuts.


This recipe is adapted from the Joyce Chen Cook Book, which is a very interesting piece of culinary history. Published in 1962, it predates even Pei-Mei's books. Chen understood very well that American cooks would have difficulty finding certain ingredients, and builds substitutions into the recipes. For example, she doesn't even bother with Shaoxing wine and goes straight to the sherry substitution. If you can get good Shaoxing wine, go with that, but if not, amontillado is my preferred alternative. It's also a bit odd in that everything is measured by volume, even the pork. I've converted some of the measurements to weight where it makes sense to do so. 

The most notable ingredient here is the ham. Chen discusses this issue at length, saying that getting Chinese ham in the United States is nearly impossible. That is as true now as it was in 1962, especially in South Dakota. It might be possible to get good ham in a Chinatown somewhere, but I'm not sure. Chinese hams are dry cured, so some other similarly-produced ham is the best substitute. Chen recommends Smithfield ham, a dry cured ham from Smithfield, Virginia. The most accessible alternative might be prosciutto. I used regular supermarket ham, which didn't really add much to the dish other than some texture. As with many dishes, Chen also uses MSG here, which I didn't have. I compensated by increasing the soy sauce and mushroom a bit. 

Joyce Chen had a huge role in spreading appreciation for Chinese food in the United States. Her influence was especially felt in Boston, where she ran several restaurants and had a short-lived cooking show with WGBH. Her rebranding of potstickers as "Peking ravioli" is particularly funny to me. Her recipe for Peking ravioli is pretty standard and quite similar to mine. However, it seems that Peking ravioli evolved in Boston Chinese restaurants into their own thing. Ariel says the dumplings she grew up eating are not quite what we make at home, but couldn't quite pin down the difference. When she took her first bite of this pork cake, she exclaimed that it tasted just like Peking ravioli. Next time we find ourselves in Boston, I'll be doing some research, by which I mean eating dumplings!

Friday, June 30, 2017

Steamed Spareribs with Fermented Black Beans (豉汁排骨)

Greetings, dear readers! It's good to be back. To my shame, it turns out this is only my third post this year. Unfortunately, with a very busy spring semester at IU, the blog suffered. I hope to make up for the deficiency this summer. Pei Mei's Chinese Cook Book is still full of fun, weird stuff I can't wait to try, modernize, and share with you. I've got some exciting stuff planned for the next few weeks, so stay tuned. 

We're starting off with something simple, but a true classic -- dim sum-style spare ribs. I'm a huge fan of dim sum (it's in my blood!) and my attempts to recreate traditional dim sum dishes will always be a big part of No Free Lunch. As far as dim sum goes, it doesn't get any easier than this. This recipe is my own, based on three others: Pei Mei, Chan's Classic Deem Sum, and The Woks of Life. The Chinese name, chizhi paigu (see jup pai gwut in Cantonese) translates to "fermented bean juice spareribs," pretty straightforward, for a change.


There are two notable ingredients to discuss. The first are the ribs themselves. American supermarkets typically don't have spareribs cut up in the way we need. In this case, I found them at an Asian grocery, but if you can find a butcher to cut them up for you, that works too. I have previously made these from a whole rack of spareribs. Cutting up the thick bones is not practical at home, so I used the big end of the rack for braising and cut up the small end (with its softer bones) for steaming. The other ingredient is douchi -- fermented black beans. These are pretty easy to find at Chinese stores. This ingredient has shown up once before, in my stir fried fish recipe. One final note: most recipes include minced hot peppers. I omitted them, but if you like your ribs spicy, put them in.

This recipe is per pound of ribs. I had about 2 1/2 pounds, and adjusted the marinade accordingly. 

Ingredients
  • 1 lb. spare ribs, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 Tbs. light soy sauce
  • 1 Tbs. fermented black beans, rinsed
  • 1 Tbs. Shaoxing wine or sherry
  • 1 green onion, chopped (white part only)
  • 1 tsp. sugar
  • 1 Tbs. cornstarch
  • 1 tsp. sesame oil
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 Tbs minced hot pepper (optional)

Instructions

To rinse the beans, mix with a little water in a bowl, then pour off the water through fingers or a strainer. Do this twice. Mix all ingredients in a large plastic bag or bowl. Add the ribs, and mix well. Marinate in the refrigerator for a few hours, one if you're in a hurry. Mix about halfway through.

Ready to steam

Prepare the wok for steaming. I use a steamer rack inside the wok, and fill the water to just below the rack. Get the water boiling. Place the rib mixture in a dish or bowl, and place on the rack. Cover and let steam until the ribs are cooked through.


Once the ribs start steaming, get some water boiling on the side. Check the ribs after every 10 minutes for temperature and water level. Add hot water as needed. If you are making a lot of ribs, such that there are multiple layers in the dish, mix them around for even cooking. Larger batches will take longer. Mine took about 30-40 minutes. Serve the ribs on their own or with rice.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Steamed Beef with Spicy Rice Powder (粉蒸牛肉)

Fenzheng niurou, translated as "powder steamed beef" (one of the more intuitive translations we've seen so far), hails from the western province of Sichuan. I am still quite a novice when it comes to the various regional cuisines of China, but I'm pleased to say traveling the provinces with Peimei has certainly broadened my knowledge. After dad spotted boxes of spicy rice powder (discussed below) in the Chinese store, I had to give this one a go. He seemed very familiar with the dish, but I don't recall ever eating it before, so we're off into terra incognita with this one. I was immensely pleased with the results. As one of the pictures later shows, the beef goes in fairly dry and emerges as a deep, rich stew, I think in large part due to fat and connective tissue breaking down. I was amazed by how tender the beef was and how well the flavors developed and blended in just 30 minutes of cooking time. 


The unusual ingredient here is the spicy rice powder. This is really a misnomer, as I really wouldn't describe it as a powder, but more like broken up rice. I used prepackaged rice powder. Preparing the powder involves toasting rice with star anise and Sichuan peppercorns, then crushing the rice up. This then becomes a quasi-breading for the beef. Note that the above photo was made with only 1.75 oz of rice powder (one box), but I would double that, as the recipe suggests.


Hot bean paste and Sichuan peppercorn, the staple Sichuan ingredients make their return here, after their first appearance in mapo doufu. These two combine give western Chinese dishes their distinctive heat and aroma. Unlike most of her recipes, Peimei is completely vague on the cut, asking only for "beef" (I did check the Chinese recipe, and it is equally vague). I went with chuck for its good flavor and utility in stews and braises, and this worked out very well. Interestingly, I bought the meat as "western ribs" or "country ribs" -- mostly boneless shoulder cuts of meat sliced into strips, so it was quick to break these down into the slices I needed. Pork country ribs are, by the way, my favorite cut to make char siu.

Ingredients
  • 1 1/2 lb beef chuck
  • 3.5 oz (100 g) spicy rice powder
  • 2 green onions
  • Sichuan peppercorn powder to taste (optional)
Marinade
  • 1 1/2 Tbs minced ginger
  • 1 tsp five spice powder
  • 2 Tbs hot bean paste (doubanjiang -- see Exotic Ingredients)
  • 4 Tbs soy sauce
  • 2 Tbs Shaoxing wine or dry amontillado
  • 2 tsp sugar
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/3 c vegetable oil

Instructions

Cut beef across the grain into thin slices, 1 to 1 1/2 inches across. Combine the beef and all marinade ingredients in an airtight bag and let stand in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.


Spread out the rice powder on a plate and dredge each slice of beef on both sides. 


Steam the beef for 30 minutes. If you have small, shallow bowls that can fit inside a bamboo steamer, then use those. I did not have bowls that fit, so I put the beef in a 10 x 10 inch cake dish and set this inside a wok with boiling water below, then covered with a lid. Whatever your strategy, you need the steam to be trapped over the beef. 


Once the beef is done cooking, add the remaining green onions and dust with peppercorn powder, if desired. Mix together and serve. I served with rice and Chinese vegetables.

Commentary

I made minimal changes to the original recipe. The main thing was that I swapped out star anise for the more readily available five spice powder in the marinade. Other than that, I played with the marinade proportions a little. Peimei also calls for an entire cup of rice powder per 3/4 lb. beef, which seems absurd to me.

As a final note, it's worth mentioning that the way my version turned into a deep and delicious stew does not seem to be universal. The photo in the cookbook looks a lot dryer, as well as others I saw on the internet. 

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Steamed Beef Dumplings

When I was in Shanghai 3 years ago, one of our favorite places to eat was a little restaurant down the street from where we lived. It was run by Hui - the Muslim nationality of China. We never knew the name of the restaurant, but if we were ever at a loss for dinner plans, someone invariably suggested "the Islamic place." No one ever objected. The food was inexpensive and good, but most importantly, the entire menu was displayed in photos all over the walls. Because of their dietary restrictions, this restaurant did not serve two very common elements of Chinese cuisine: beer and pork. Lamb or beef were found in a majority of the dishes, including the steamed dumplings.


Dumplings are a truly versatile food. I like this recipe because it uses very common ingredients most people will probably have lying around the kitchen. I didn't buy anything on the list with the specific intention of this dish, other than dumpling wrappers (which, as usual you could also make from scratch). These dumplings would also taste great with lamb. Green onions work well in most dumplings, also, but I haven't been able to get them in the grocery store recently.

"The Islamic place"

Ingredients
  • 1/2 pound ground sirloin
  • 1/4 onion
  • 1 big clove garlic
  • 3/4 tsp ground cumin
  • 1 tsp oyster sauce
  • 1/2 tsp soy sauce
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/4 tsp black pepper
  • 30 potsticker wrappers

Instructions

Coarsely grate the onion using a cheese grater. Mince garlic. In a bowl, combine the beef, onion, garlic, and all seasonings. Gently mix everything together until integrated. You can easily check your dumpling filling by pinching off a little bit, searing it in a frying pan, and tasting it.


Next, assemble the dumplings. Prepare a bowl of water. Take a wrapper and spoon a little filling into it. Make sure not to overfill or the dumpling will be hard to close. Dip your finger in the water and wet the outer edges of the wrapper. Fold over and pinch to seal. Pinch 2-3 folds to make it stand up, like with any potsticker. I made 30 dumplings.


Cut small pieces of parchment paper and lay them out inside a bamboo steamer. Put a dumpling on each. Get a pot of water boiling and place the covered steamer on top. Steam for 12 minutes. Like most dumplings, you can easily freeze the ones you don't want to eat right away.


A final request to readers: I put the dumplings on wax paper, and they stuck horribly. In my attempts to take the wax paper off, the bottoms of the dumplings went with. As such, I have recommended parchment, but I am not sure if that is better, or if there is another solution. If you know the answer, please leave a comment!