Spicy

Chicken Lollipops

dianakuan — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 09:50:36 +0000

Despite my pledge to eat healthier, I'm still on an Indian-Chinese food kick this week. Following up my fried Gobi Manchurian, I decided to make fried chicken lollipops. A good excuse would be that this is a handy appetizer to know in case I ever host a last-minute party.

Since chicken is one of two meats that are popular in India (the other being lamb), it's not surprising that cooks would get creative with a little drumstick. All you need is a paring knife to cut the tendons and scrape down the meat so the meat forms a nice round ball at the end. And the end result is wings that are much less messy to eat, especially when you're dealing with the hazards of a spicy, sticky sauce.

I first made lollipops way back in culinary school in my hors d'œuvre module. My chef-instructor hinted that this was his original idea, and that he deserved credit if we were to ever offer them on our own restaurant menus. I was impressed, until later when I began to see these not only in Indian-Chinese restaurants but also on the Food Network. So much for original ideas. At least you can rest assured that this is a better lollipop method than jamming chicken nuggets on popsicle sticks.

Kung Pao Chicken, the Lunch of Champions

dianakuan — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 05:37:26 +0000

It's the end of July. Which means that journalists, foreigner tourists, and mainland Chinese alike have started flooding into town for the Olympics. In the next few weeks, many of them will probably eat their fair share of Kung Pao Chicken, which has been designated the official dish of the 2008 Summer Games.

Why not a native Beijing dish, like Peking duck? My guess is because Peking duck is labor-intensive, somewhat expensive, and suitable only for large groups. The humble Gongbao Jiding(宫爆鸡丁) from Sichuan province, however, is easy to prepare, cheap, and more filling than a Clif Bar if you're eating alone. Heck, the sporting venues could even sell it in the stands, as the Chinese equivalent of caramel popcorn or hot dogs. And since Kung Pao Chicken doesn't contain offal or an awkward English translation, Westerners absolutely love it.

From my post in May on Kung Pao Tofu:

"The origin of (Kung Pao Chicken) is much debated. One popular theory is that Ding Baozhen, a Qing Dynasty emperor, enjoyed eating it so much that the dish was named after his officlal title, Gong Bao. Most people believe it to be of Sichuan or Hunan origin, though this NYTimes article says otherwise. What is important, though, is the sensational salty, sweet, sour, and spicy flavors and mingling on the palate.

Sweet Chili-Glazed Tofu

dianakuan — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 02:12:57 +0000

In the dead of summer in Sichuan province, folks regularly eat incredibly spicy, stomach-burning hot pot with the belief that sweating profusely will cool you off. It makes sense, then, that some of the world's spiciest cuisines (Mexican, Indian, Malaysian, etc.) hail from the hottest climates.

I cook and eat spicy food year-round, even if I have to pour myself an enormous iced drink and blast the fan to enjoy it. My latest dish from two nights ago is a simple but very addictive Sweet Chili-Glazed Tofu. If you're a fan of mapo tofu, like 99.5% of people who have ever eaten Sichuan food, this is another good tofu recipe to try. More tongue-tickling spicy than ma la, with a sweet kick and subtle fruity aroma from cider vinegar, this quickish stir-fry makes an easy one-bowl dinner. With lettuce wraps instead of rice, it also becomes a good backyard cookout appetizer.

_____________________________

Other spicy tofu recipes:

Mapo Tofu
Kung Pao Tofu
Hunan-style Braised Fried Tofu
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Sweet Chili-Glazed Tofu

Serves 2

Curry Laksa, and Cooking without Water

dianakuan — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 02:42:45 +0000

Yesterday I cooked without water. Well, not completely without water, but with trickles from the faucet. When the trickles eventually stopped, I used purified stuff from the water cooler in our living room. To rinse food, boil noodles, wash dishes, everything. Trickles.

See, Jacob and I live in a brand new apartment, so new that construction hasn't even stopped. Anyone who has visited Beijing (or China) in the past 10 years will know that the entire city (and country) is over-dosing on construction. In order to clean up the air for the Olympics, the government had mandated that all construction projects stop by June 1. Well, that deadlines has now been pushed back to July 1. And I'm annoyed not only because the air is still dusty, but also because we get periodic electricity and water outages, both announced an unannounced.

According to a notice in the "lobby", the water outage was supposed to occur between 10pm and 6am. Fine, I thought. We go out to a bar at night, come back late, and try not to use the bathroom 'til morning. Then the water stops in the middle of the afternoon. Not very convenient when you're making curry laksa. Laksa paste, bird's eye chilli seeds, and raw shrimp juice are not things you want to leave unwashed from your hands.

Thank goodness for the purified water, though I did feel a small amount of guilt.

Kung Pao Tofu

dianakuan — Fri, 09 May 2008 12:22:51 +0000

This afternoon, less than 24 hours before hopping on a train to Hong Kong, I was faced with a dilemma. Do I boil some instant ramen noodles and start packing early, to ensure I remember everything and not wait until the last minute? Or do I make myself a good, hearty lunch, while updating my iPod with all the new music and podcasts necessary for a long train ride?

A perpetual procrastinator, I chose the latter.

The plan was to make Kung Pao Chicken (Gongbao Jiding), because that was what I was craving. Then I looked in the fridge and saw a pack of lonely-looking tofu, which would certainly go uneaten before the trip.

"Don't let me go to waste," it seemed to be saying. "Buy chicken another day, when you're not about to go for a 2-week trip."

"Fine," I sighed.

I made Kung Pao Tofu instead. It wasn't chicken, but it was less wasteful and kept in line with my eat-less-meat resolution. (Of course, I can only hold up for so long, since the wonton soups and Cantonese roast ducks in HK are too irresistable.)

Noodles with Hot Bean Sauce

dianakuan — Mon, 05 May 2008 14:22:44 +0000

Remember when I wrote about the kaleidoscope of tofu available in China? Here's a couple I picked up today at the market:

The lighter colored pack is 豆干 (dòu gān), the super firm kind I like to use in dishes like caramelized tofu. The other was new to me, and intrigued me because the name on the packaging: 啤酒肉片 (píjiǔ ròupiàn) literally reads as "Beer Meat Slices." I know the character for "meat" in Chinese can also mean the flesh of any food, from pigs to pineapples to tofu. But the "beer" part I couldn't figure out, since it wasn't listed as one of the ingredients.

Mongolian Lamb Stir-Fry

dianakuan — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 09:29:51 +0000

Living in Beijing has made me develop a severe addiction to 羊肉串 (yángròuchuàn), otherwise known as lamb skewers. The intense aroma of cumin- and chilli- coated lamb on a grill makes me salivate like nothing else. And the heavy Mongolian and Xinjiang influence on Beijing's foodscape means that 羊肉串 is everywhere, on the street, in regular restaurants, in chuan bars.

If you're nowhere near Beijing, or want to satisfy your lamb-and-cumin craving at home without a grill, this stir-fry is the next best thing. Mark Bittman, who writes The Minimalist column in the NY Times' Dining Section, is a pro at translating mouth-watering dishes into simple recipes for home cooks. He based this stir-fry off the same lamb skewers I often dream about. It's a good dish to serve on busy weeknights or hectic dinner parties, because all the prep is done beforehand. Once you're ready to cook, take the lamb out of the fridge, toss it in a hot wok, and you have a mouth-watering stir-fry in about 5 minutes.

To get the most out of this dish, it's imperitive to use fresh cumin seeds. Ground cumin has nowhere near the aroma or bite of just-toasted seeds. For the garnish, Mark Bittman suggests cilantro. I didn't have any cilantro on hand, so I heated up some fresh red chillis in a wok until they're blistered.

Mapo Doufu / Mapo Tofu

dianakuan — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 12:43:43 +0000

If I had to make a list of my top favorite comfort foods of all time, mapo doufu would be at the top along with lamb curry, roast chicken, and anything in a clay pot. I almost always order it at Sichuan restaurants, despite that voice in my head pushing me to try something new. But the craving is too hard to resist. Thinking about the mala taste, the thick sauce that wraps sublimely around white rice, and the silken-ness of the tofu contrasting with the slightly crispy pork all make me surrender to the tried-and-true.

Fortunately, mapo doufu also very easy to make at home. This recipe is adapted from Land of Plenty: A Treasury of Authentic Sichuan Cooking by Fuchsia Dunlop, one of the very few Western food writers to delve deeply into Sichuan cuisine. I highly recommend this book if you're looking for not only recipes but also great writing that brings the sights, smells, and tastes of Sichuan province to life.

Hunan-Style Braised Fried Tofu

dianakuan — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 11:03:37 +0000

When it comes to tofu, the choices that usually come to mind are soft, firm, or extra firm blocks. Of course, there are many other kinds of tofu, a product of curdled soy milk, just waiting to be eaten. Fermented tofu, fried tofu, frozen tofu, smoked tofu, tofu skin, and flavored tofu all have their own uses, which will be covered here in another time. Fried tofu, though, is what I've been experimenting with. My local markets carry a variety that includes triangles, tofu ends, and tofu puffs (more cubed shaped.)

This quick and fiery Hunan-style dish is made by braising pre-fried tofu puffs (豆泡 dòupào) in stock. Slicing the puffs in half or thirds, depending on the size, allow more sauce to be absorbed. I used 3 dried chillis in my version, but you can always tone down the spiciness.

Hunan-Style Braised Fried Tofu
Adapted from Saveur

Serves 4

1 tablespoon peanut oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1" piece ginger, peeled and minced
2 cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon dark soy sauce
1⁄2 lb. deep-fried tofu puffs, cut into 1⁄2-inch thick slices
2 to 3 dried chillis, stemmed and halved length-wise
7 Chinese chives scallions, green parts only, cut into 2-inch pieces
1 tsp. cornstarch mixed with 2 tsp. cold water

Dan Dan Mian - Sichuan Spicy Noodles

dianakuan — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 14:35:45 +0000

The first time I ever had dan dan mian was years ago in New York's East Village. It was one of those insanely hot and muggy July days, and my friend S and I were walking on St. Mark's Street, sweaty even in tank tops and skirts.

"Where do you want to have lunch?," I asked.

"Anywhere with AC," was the reply.

We ducked into the St. Mark's branch of Grand Sichuan and sure enough, there was a generous amount of AC, along with a particularly surly waitress. We ordered quickly just to get her to go away.

We ate about 4 or 5 dishes, but I don't remember any except the dan dan noodles and cold cucumber salad. I remember the dan dan noodles because they were some of the spiciest things I had ever tasted, at that point. I remember the cucumbers because, despite also being spicy, they tamed the heat in my mouth from the dan dan noodles.

I gulped about 4 or 5 glasses of water during the meal. The food was actually pretty good, but I, being a newbie to Sichuan food, couldn't fully appreciate the complexity of the Sichuan peppercorn. Years later, having had many 4-alarm Sichuan meals, I actually miss and crave the mala sensation (numbing spiciness) if I don't eat Sichuan for a week or more.