Chinese Yard Long Beans

The bounty that comes from my CSA box is continually astounding to me.

This past Saturday, we were treated to a bundle of one of my favorite Asian vegetables, Vigna sesquipedalis, also known as Chinese yard-long beans. (They are also known as asparagus beans, but I have no idea why–they do not taste a thing like asparagus to me.) These beans are the same thing as a dried pea that is known in the US as black-eyed-peas or crowder peas. I never much cared for black eyed peas when I was growing up–they had an odd sweet smell and flavor that I never grew to like.

What is particularly odd about that is the immature green pods, which are served as yard long beans, do not have a sweet flavor at all. In fact, they have a distinctive starchy flavor, and an interesting tender-crisp texture–almost like regular green beans that have been blanched.They are often likened to green beans, but I don’t think that they are much alike at all–green beans are much sweeter and have a “greener” more grassy flavor. Yard long beans seem to have a starchy, proteinous flavor more like a dried bean, but in a fresh bean form.

They are particularly full of vitamins and nutritients: they are an excellent source of vitamins A and C, folate, protein, complex carbohydrates and a small amount of iron. They are low in calories, and, because they lack the strings that green beans have, they are simpler to prepare: simply snip or cut off the ends, and then cut into 2″ lengths to prepare them to stir fry.

Morganna’s first day of school was today, so I told her I would make her whatever she liked for supper, as a celebration. She begged me to make a stir-fry, something that I haven’t done as much of recently, because as I slow down and my energy wanes, my ability to efficiently do so much kitchen prep is lowered. But, for my girl, of course, I will make a stir fry.

We had the long beans, so I knew I had to use those, and we had pressed tofu and tender boneless pork loin chops. I had fresh green chiles and a sweet bell pepper that I thought would add a note of sugar to the dish, as well as providing a contrasting color to the deep velvety green of the beans. For seasoning, Morganna asked for fermented black beans, so I added sweet onions, garlic and ginger, and I limited the condiments to light soy sauce, Shao hsing wine and sesame oil. The last flavor note I added were three rehydrated black mushrooms, whose umami fragrance really brought a strong element of the savory to the dish.

Stir Fried Yard-Long Beans with Pork and Pressed Tofu

Ingredients:

3/4 pound lean pork loin chop, trimmed of fat and cut into 1/4″ wide by 1″ long by 1/4″ thick slices
1 tablespoon Shao Hsing wine
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3-4 tablespoons peanut oil
1 small yellow onion, peeled and sliced thinly
1 tablespoon fermented black beans, lightly crushed
1 green jalapeno, cut into thin slivers
1/2″ chunk fresh ginger, peeled, and shredded into very thin slivers
3 large cloves garlic, cut into thin shreds
3 black mushrooms, rehydrated, stemmed and cut into 1/8″ thick slices
1/2 pound pressed tofu cut into similar sized slices as pork
1 tablespoon Shao hsing wine
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
3/4 pound Chinese yard-long beans, ends trimmed and cut on the bias into 2 1/2″ lengths
1/2 small red sweet bell pepper, cut into very thin, 2″ long slices
1/4 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

Method:

Mix meat and first amounts of wine and soy sauce together and toss with cornstarch until liquids thicken and are clinging to the meat. Set aside to marinate for twenty minutes, preferably while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Heat wok until it is smoking. Add peanut oil, and allow to heat for another thirty seconds, or until oil ripples and shimmers.

Add onion, black beans, jalapeno and ginger and stir fry for about a minute, or until very fragrant. Add garlic and mushrooms, and stir fry for another minute. Add meat, reserving any marinade that is not clinging to the meat. Spread meat into a single layer onto the bottom of the wok and allow to sit undisturbed to brown for about a minute or so. Add tofu to wok. Stir fry until most of the pink is gone from the meat.

Deglaze wok where marinade has clung to the sides and bottom and browned with wine and tofu, stir rapidly to scrape up marinade bits. Add beans, and stir fry for another minute to minute and a half, or until meat is done.

Add bell pepper, stir fry thirty seconds, then remove from heat and drizzle in sesame oil, stirring well to combine.

Turn out into a heated platter and serve with steamed jasmine rice.

The Queen of Thai Curries: Green Curry

And now we come to it: my favorite Thai curry of all time.

Green curry.

I tend to only make green curry in the summer, when the herbs and seasonings that go into it are fresh and readily available, because I am snobby about the curry paste. There is something about green curry paste that to my palate does not survive storage. Canned pastes, and even the ones packaged in resealable plastic tubs like Mae Ploy, which are generally quite good, lack the brilliant color and sparkling flavor that the freshly made paste brims with. It just plain doesn’t taste as good somehow.

I think it is because the flavor and fragrance of Green Curry relies so much upon fresh herbs and chiles that much of that goodness is lost when the paste is preserved in a can or plastic container.

The ingredients to the paste, once found and obtained, are simple to combine into a pungent, fragrant paste, particularly if one has a Sumeet grinder. If one does not have access to such a tool, a food processor combined with a mortar and pestle will make, if not quick work of the paste making, at least, easier work than it would be by doing it the traditional way, which is with a mortar and pestle alone. I used to use either a mortar and pestle alone or in combination with the food processor in order to make green curry paste in my pre-Sumeet days; I only once tried to make it with just the food processor. With only the food processor, the paste was too chunky and lumpy; it refused to smooth out into anything resembling a true paste. But, I found that if I used a food processor to puree the vegetal ingredients into bits, I could then use the mortar and pestle to finish the job and make the curry paste just as velvety smooth as I wanted it to be.

One other note about the curry paste.

You may be tempted to leave out the shrimp paste.

Unless you are allergic to shrimp, or are keeping kosher and do not eat shellfish, please do not leave out the shrimp paste.

I know it smells kind of strong, and doesn’t look good, but it really does give a great boost of umami flavor to the Thai curries. Without it, the curry paste tastes a bit flat, and seems to be missing something. That is because it is.

If you must substitute, you can use red miso–but I urge you that unless you must avoid shrimp for health or religious reasons, that you give the authentic ingredient a try.

What is best cooked in a green curry?

Well, pork is traditional, but as I am not easily eating red meats these days, I opted for chicken.

In truth, my favorite animal-based proteins cooked in green curry are crab and salmon; I like to make a thick curry sauce from the paste and coconut cream and slather it over salmon steaks or filets and then broil them to perfection, and then use the rest of the paste to make a vegetable based curry and serve the salmon on a bed of steamed jasmine rice with a circlet of the curried vegetables around it. THAT is my number one favorite version of that dish, but I don’t think I will be having it for a while–not until Kat is born and weaned from breastmilk, anyway. (I am concerned at the amount of methylmercury that is being found in large predatory fish like salmon and tuna–it is a contaminant that can cause serious nerve and brain damage in fetuses and developing children.)

Another favorite is green curry crab, but lacking crabmeat, that is hard to do.

So, I did a green curry chicken with mixed green vegetables.

You can glimpse the vegetables I used in the curry above; I don’t know why I like to match the colors of the veggies to the curry so much with this dish, but I do. Or, maybe it is because some of my favorite green veggies are in season when the Thai basil is up and happy–in the summer. Anyway, eggplant–green Asian or Thai eggplant if I can get it–is a necessity. The velvety richness of eggplant marries perfectly with the creamy curry sauce and the sharp herbal flavors and chile heat. Zucchini, especially if it is not overcooked, is also wonderful; its blandness is a perfect carrier for all of the flavors of green curry. Green beans add a verdant crunch, especially when not allowed to overcook, and sugar snap peas, again, barely cooked, add sweet sugary zing.

The onions that I use in this dish, however, are always purple.

Why?

Because green and purple look lovely together, that is why! I usually use regular large red onions, but at the farmer’s market last weekend I found these glorious royal purple scallions, and had to use them, and they not only were very pretty, they added a good amount of snappy flavor to the finished dish. I just floated them into the sauce near the end of cooking and then garnished with basil leaves and roughly chopped cilantro, stirring them in at the last moment so that they barely wilted by the time the curry was served.

Owing to the heat of this dish, I served it with plenty of steamed jasmine rice. Paired with a Thai tomato-cucumber marinated salad, this was a wonderful dinner, full of fresh, delightful flavors that really let the vegetables stand out, while still being highly seasoned. It is a dish that I only make a couple of times a year, but I always look forward to it, and it is always worth the extra time and trouble it takes to make it and make it well.

Green Curry Paste

Ingredients:

20 white peppercorns, ground finely (Obviously, I substituted grains of paradise here because of my allergy)
1 tbsp. coriander seeds, toasted to bring out flavor, and ground
½ tsp. cardamom seeds, removed from pods and ground
1 tsp. coarse sea salt
4 green jalapeno or serrano chilis, roughly chopped
1 green poblano or pasilla chili (optional, for color), roughly chopped
15-20 green thai bird chilis, chopped
2 tbsp. chopped lemongrass (about the bottom third of one stalk)
1 tbsp. chopped fresh or frozen galangal
1 tsp. grated lime zest
1 tbsp. finely chopped cilantro roots or stems
2 tbsp. finely chopped basil leaves
3 shallots, chopped
8 cloves garlic chopped
2 tsp. young ginger, chopped
2 tsp. shrimp paste

Hand method:

Grind seeds in a spice or coffee grinder. (If you use a coffee grinder, clean out before and after.)
Put ingredients into mortar and pestle in order of their appearance, grinding the first ones thoroughly first. When you get to the sea salt, use it in sprinkles to help grind the tougher herbs, such as lemongrass, galangal, lime zest, cilantro root and basil stems.

If you run out of room in your mortar and pestle, put paste into a bowl and grind in batches.

Food processor/Sumeet method:

Grind spices into a powder with spice grinder or mortar and pestle.

Put everything else into a food processor and process into a rough paste. (A regular food processor will not make a smooth paste. Before I discovered the Sumeet, I used to use the food processor to break everything down to small bits, then, I would turn it into a paste by working it with the mortar and pestle by hand. This was less time consuming than the hand method, but resulted in a similar texture, color and flavor.)

With the Sumeet, you just grind everything together into a smooth paste by putting ingredients into the jar in batches.

This recipe makes about a cup and a half of curry paste. When I am making curry, I use the entire batch to flavor the curry. You don’t have to use so much. If you want to keep it in the fridge, it keeps pretty well for a few days. For longer storage, put into a zioplock bag, push out all the air and freeze. It will keep, with a small loss of fragrance and fresh flavor, for months in this way.

Green Curry Chicken with Asian Eggplants And Green Vegetables

Ingredients:

1 1/2 19 ounce can Mae Ploy brand coconut milk
2-4 tbsp. fresh green curry paste
2 kaffir lime leaves, or the zest of two limes
fish sauce to taste
palm or raw cane sugar to taste (about 1 tbsp.)
1 pound boneless skinless chicken breast, trimmed and cut into 1” chunks
1/2 pound Asian eggplants (round or long Thai green ones, or long purple ones….doesn’t matter) cut into slices on the diagonal about ½” thick
2 small zuchinni, cut in half longways, then cut into half-rounds about 1/2″ thick
1/2 pound green beans, trimmed, topped and tailed and snapped into 1″ pieces
1/4-1/2 pound sugar snap peas, topped and tailed
2 large fresh shiitake, stems removed and discarded, caps cut into 1/4″ slices
1small purple onion, cut into squares, or 4 purple scallions, cleaned and sliced on the diagonal into 1/4″ slices
lime juice to taste (about the juice of ½ to ¾ of a lime)
1 cup fresh Thai basil leaves
½ cup cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
½ cup mint leaves, roughly chopped (optional)

Method:

Take about a two tablespoons of cream off top of the coconut milk, and melt in a pan. Add curry paste in whatever amount you think you will want to use–as I said, I use the whole batch because I like my curry to be very full of flavor. You may think that is too intense. To be on the safe side, maybe you should use 2/3 of the batch to start with.

Fry curry paste in coconut cream until well-scented, then add lime zest (Don’t do this, if you are using lime leaves) and fry a few seconds longer. Add the rest of the coconut milk. If you are using lime leaves, add them to the curry at this point. Bring curry to a simmer on medium low heat.

Add fish sauce and sugar to taste and bring to a simmer. Simmer slowly for about fifteen minutes, stirring now and then.

Add eggplants, and cook until tender. When nearly done, add the rest of the vegetables except the onions, and the chicken. Cook until the chicken is nearly done, then add the onions, so that they cook only about two or three minutes, until just barely softened.

Add lime juice to taste, then add fresh herb leaves, remove from heat and let leaves wilt slightly, then serve with plenty of steamed jasmine rice.

Local Spring Flavors Dance Together in a Global Fusion

There are few flavors more evocative of spring than asparagus, lamb, green garilc and mint. And, as it so happens, they are also extremely local flavors as well; all over the farmer’s market on Saturday, there were bundles of asparagus, ranging from thumb-thick spears to dainties thinner than a pencil. Lamb, too, is a traditional spring food enjoyed all over the world, and I had some tiny lamb flank steaks in my freezer from Bluescreek Farms Meats wiating for something special to happen with them. Green garlic tempted from several booths at the market as well; I bought enough of it to last a week. (The farmer quipped to me, “You got vampires?” “Nope,” I answered, “just a bunch of garlic-loving eaters.”)

And nothing, but nothing is more local than the mint that is springing up all over my perennial bed. We inherited it from the house’s former owners, so I have no real idea what variety of mint it is, though from the color of its leaves and stem, and the shape of it, I think it is probably chocolate mint. Some think it was named for a chocolatey flavor, which is something I cannot personally discern; I think it was named for the dark reddish brown of the stems and the veins in the leaves.

Whatever kind of mint it is, there is a lot of it, and it is very strongly flavored. A little of it goes a long way.

What to make with this abundance of springtime joy? What sort of dish could utilize all of these happy flavors in a cohesive fashion?

I immediately latched onto the idea of a stir fry for several reasons. For one thing, lamb flank steaks are perfect when they are sliced across the grain and stir fried, and it just so happens to be my favorite method of preparing that particular cut of meat. Besides, stir frying asparagus is also a very fine way to showcase a flavor that is to me, the epitome of spring.

So, a stir fry it was to be, but in what context? Green garlic obviously will do well in a stir fry, but mint?

It was the mint that got me to thinking.

I had read about Chinese food in India on Meena’s blog, Hooked on Heat a while back, and the thought that I should attempt some sort of Indo-Chinese fusion had been simmering in my head ever since then.

“Why not,” I thought to myself, “do an Indian-Chinese fusion stir fry?”

Fusion cuisine can be either some of the best food in the world when it is done well and with care, or a nasty, messy glop when executed poorly. In my opinion, there is seldom any comfortable middle ground.

In my opinion, the best fusion foods are those that arise naturally from the interaction between two or more food cultures. This intaction often comes about because of immigration, but it can also come about through trade in foodstuffs.

India and China have a long history of cultural interaction between the two countries, both directly, through immigration and indirectly, through trade and trade routes. Both countries have long culinary histories, with very diverse regional differences in cooking style and flavors. And, as Meena pointed out in her post–there already exists in India, an Indo-Chinese fusion that came about when Chinese restauranteurs did what they always do in whatever country they settle: cook their foods to reflect the foods of their new homeland, and the tastes of their customers.

My general personal guidelines that I use in determining whether or not I will attempt a culinary fusion between cultures is to look at the two cusines and pick out commonalities. If there are enough commonalities between them, then a fertile and flavorful fusion is more likely to be successful.

In the case of Indian and Chinese food, and in the ingredients I had chosen, there are a great deal of commonalities.

Lamb is one of the most commonly eaten meats in India; it is also popular in some parts of China, noteably the northern and western provinces.

Garlic of any sort is popular in both cuisines.

Mint is extremely popularly used in Indian foods; while it is not common in Chinese foods, there is still a tradition of using fresh herbs, noteably cilantro, in garnishing stir-fried dishes.

Finally, while asparagus is not generally considered either a Chinese or Indian vegetable, I have cooked it in the contexts of both cuisines to excellent effect in the past.

So–a fusion it was to be.

What other ingredients would I add as I performed an alchemical marriage between Indian and Chinese cookery?

Ginger is an obvious ingredient; it, like garlic, is extremely prevalant in both culinary traditions.

What spices should I use? Black or white pepper would be the perfect answer–they are common to both cultures–but, since I have discovered I am allergic to peppercorns, I saw no reason to use them. Cardamom popped into my head first; its flowery scent would go well with the verdant snap of the asparagus and it always tames the gamy richness of lamb. Coriander, which is used sometimes in red-cooked dishes, and is, of course, the seed of the cilantro plant, is another good idea. It also pairs well with cardamom, because its lemony flavor blends seamlessly with the floral qualities of cardamom. My third and final spice was a tiny bit of fennel seed. It has a similar aroma and flavor to star anise, which is favored in Chinese cookery, and when used sparingly, heightens the effect of any other slightly sweet spices that are used with it.

I decided on premium light soy sauce, and after sniffing my ground masala mixture of cardamom, coriander and fennel in tandem with it, Shao Hsing wine. The sweetness of the spices brought out the nuttiness of the rice wine perfectly, while the soy sauce would add depth, umami and a salty richness to the entire dish without being overpowering.

I have to admit to being somewhat nervous when I served the dish to Zak and Morganna, since it was very much an experiment.

However, my fears were groundless. Once they smelled the dish and then tasted it, there was no dissent: it was a very good marriage between fresh, locally available foodstuffs, and two distant cultures.

My fnal proof that they liked the dish: there were no leftovers in evidence. Every scrap of it was eaten.

So, I want to thank Meena for giving me the inspiration for trying such a fusion, by naming the dish for her.

Meena’s Stir Fried Asparagus and Lamb

Ingredients:

3/4 pound lamb flank steaks, trimmed of silverskin and excess fat, and sliced thinly across the grain
1 tablespoon premium light soy sauce
1 tablespoon Shao Hsing wine or dry sherry
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon coriander seed, 1/8 teaspoon cardamom seeds and a pinch of fennel seeds, ground together and divided
3-4 tablespoons peanut oil
4 stalks green garlic, white and light green parts sliced on the diagonal 1/4″ thick, green tops sliced on the diagonal 1″ long, separated
1 1″ cube fresh ginger, cut into thin slices about 1″ long and 1/4″ wide
1 tablespoon Shao Hsing wine
1 tablespoon premium light soy sauce
1 pound very thin asparagus spears, trimmed and cut into 2 1/2″ lengths
2 tablespoons chicken broth
handful of fresh mint leaves, roughly chopped

Method:

Mix together the lamb, the first quantities of soy sauce and wine, and 1/3 of the spice pixture with the cornstarch and toss until well coated. Marinate at least for twenty minutes, but no more than an hour.

Set aside the rest of the spice mixture.

Heat wok until it smokes, add oil and heat until it shimmers. Add garlic and ginger and another third of the spice mixture and stir fry for about one minute, or until very fragrant.

Add lamb, reserving any liquid marinade in the bowl. Spread into a single layer on the bottom of the wok and allow lamb to brown on the bottom–about one and a half minutes. Stir fry with the aromatics until the cornstarch marinade browns on the sides and bottom of the wok. Add second quantities of soy sauce and wine, and deglaze the cornstarch, stirring the meat in well.

Add the asparagus, stir frying all the while, until it begins to deepen in color.

Add two tablespoons of chicken broth, and stir fry until sauce clings to the meat and asparagus. Sprinkle the reserved green garlic tops and mint leaves over, stir to wilt and combine, and sprinkle a pinch or two of the last third of spice mixture over the dish, stirring once more to combine.

Scrape into a heated platter and serve immediately with the steamed rice of your choice.

Note: This dish is my entry for Kevin of Seriously Good’s “Asparagus Aspirations” blog event. If you are into asparagus, go check out the great lists of recipes for the noble harbinger of spring that participants from all over the world have sent in so far.

Stir Fry Technique II: Ten Steps to Better Chicken From a Wok

I never expected the huge response I got to my first post in this series: Stir-Fry Technique: Ten Steps to Better Wok Cookery, but I suppose I should not have been surprised. I have known for a long time that most Chinese cookbooks do not go far enough in explaining technique, particularly, when it comes to adapting wok cooking to American stoves. The exceptions are Grace Young’s two books, Wisdom of the Chinese Kitchen and Breath of a Wok, both of which are excellent volumes for either the beginning or intermediate student of Chinese cooking.

When readers started giving me feedback, however, I realized that I had only touched the surface of the subject, and so, a series of posts is born, all of them heavily illustrated with photographs. While the first post is a general overview that I suggest everyone read, the following ones are going to deal very specifically with the basic techniques in the context of different ingredients.

This post, as noted above, will deal with chicken.

Chicken is apparently very difficult to stir fry, and part of the problem lies in the chicken itself. For one thing, most chicken available in the grocery store meat counters is processed more than it needs to be. It is always previously-frozen, and often, it has been injected with water, which renders the meat very soft, mushy, and full of fluid. When the chicken hits a hot surface, water often bubbles out of the meat, and lowers the heat of the pan. When one is cooking in a wok, this can be catastrophic, as the entire point of stir-frying is to cook the food as quickly as possible, on as high heat as possible, with as little oil and added liquids as possible.

The result of chicken which weeps liquid is often dried out, overcooked meat (this comes about from having to cook the chicken longer, because the temperature of the wok is decreased by the release of water), and an insipid, diluted sauce, which simply does not compare with the flavors the local Chinese restaurant is able to create.

So, here are a few general rules about cooking chicken in a wok that will help counteract the tendency for it to become overcooked, tough and flavorless.

Rule 1: Choose your chicken wisely. For general cooking purposes, most grocery store chicken is okay. For stir-frying, you want chicken that is as minimally processed as possible. That means, you want meat that has not been injected with water if at all possible. How to manage this? Well, I will tell you that I always use locally raised, free-range, organic birds for my stir fries, and not only does the meat taste better in and of itself, it is -never- injected with water during processing. Try picking up a chicken breast from a small local producer sometime, and feel the difference in the texture of the meat. Even if it has been frozen, the flesh does not feel slimy, mushy or squishy. It is always silky and firm. This chicken will produce a superior stir-fry, not only because it will not weep water as soon as it hits the wok, but also because it will have a better texture when you bite into it. You may also notice that it tastes better. More chickeny, as it were.

Rule 2: Cut your chicken properly. This means you really do need to pay attention to how uniformly you slice the meat. It is said that Confucius so valued properly cut up food, that he would refuse to eat a dish that had food cut in a jumble of sizes and shapes. This is not simple food snobbery, this is recongizing that in the high heat generated within a wok, if your food is not cut in similar sizes and shapes, some will be overdone, and some may be underdone, and very little of it will taste good. So, practice cutting your chicken into small sized pieces, and work at it until you can manage it well. (Partially frozen chicken is easier to cut than completely thawed chicken, however, make certain it is completely thawed before you start stir-frying, lest you have partially underdone food!) I suggest for most people stir-frying on American stove, that they cut most chicken bits to be no thicker than 1/2″,.and the length at about 1 1/2-2″, with the width at about 1/2″. If you cut your chicken thicker than 1/2″ you will likely dry the outer edges of it before the inside is completely cooked, unless you employ a secondary technique, and stir fry the outside, and then add liquid to “braise” the inside until it is done. Then, you let most of the liquid boil away and continue stir frying.

Rule 3: Do not crowd your wok. The quickest way to ruin a stir fry is to lower the heat on your wok by overcrowding it with cold meat. I have no idea how large your wok is, so when I tell you to cook all of the chicken at once, you may have to improvise. If your wok is smaller than mine, and frankly, most people’s are, then you will need to cook your chicken in batches. (Now you see the value of buying as large a wok as your stove can efficiently heat.) That is fine, and it is easily done. What you do is split your chicken into however many batches you think your wok will necessitate, and also split up the aromatics into an equal number of batches. Then, all you do, is follow the recipe up to cooking the chicken. You do batch one, then scrape out the wok into a clean bowl, then do batch two, and do the same, and so on. Then, either add your chicken back into the wok and cook your vegetables, or cook your vegetables, add the chicken and finish out the dish. Experiment–only you know how big your wok is and how hot your stove is. Wok cookery requires flexibility and creativity–so exercise those abilities in your kitchen and use my recipes–and anyone’s, for that matter–only as guidelines.

Now, we come to the recipe that I am using to teach “Barbara’s Ten Steps to Better Chicken From a Wok”: Stir Fried Chicken with Chard, Fermented Black Beans and Chile.

I made up this recipe in order to accomplish several goals. One, I wanted to show how to stir-fry chicken with only a few other ingredients so the focus would be on the chicken, while still illustrating how to cook it with vegetables without overcooking the chicken or undercooking the vegetables. Two, I wanted to use as many local ingredients in this dish as possible in keeping with the May Eat Local Challenge, which is why I am using scallions instead of onions, green garlic instead of garlic, and chard instead of gai lan or bok choi, neither of which are in season here in Athens yet. (In using chard in place of bok choi, however, I have noticed that it does not contain as much water in its tissues as the latter, and so when it is added to the wok, it does not release as much excess liquid as bok choi. It also has more flavor–it is very earthy, and went beautifully with the dried shiitake mushrooms.) And finally, three–I wanted to show how to cook chicken with both a resilient vegetable like mushrooms, and a more fragile vegetable, like greens, to illustrated the principle of timing when cooking in a wok.

Stir Fried Chicken with Chard, Fermented Black Beans and Chile

Ingredients:

1 whole boneless, skinless chicken breast, trimmed of tendons and cut into pieces 1 1/2-2″ long, 1/2″ wide and about 1/4″ thick
1 tablespoon Shao Hsing wine or dry sherry
1 tablespoon premium light soy sauce
2 tablespoons cornstarch
4 tablespoons peanut oil (more or less, depending on the size of your wok)
4 scallions, white and light green parts cut thinly on the bias, dark green parts cut on the bias into 1″ lengths–keep them separate
4 green garlic, white and light green parts cut exactly like the scallions, and the dark green tops cut into 1″ lengths on the bias, and also kept separate
3 cayenne peppers, cut thinly on the bias (to taste–you can also use ones that are frozen whole from the summer before as I did.)
2 1/2 tablespoons salted, fermented black beans, lightly crushed (mash a bit with the back of a spoon)
1/2 teaspoon raw sugar
4 dried Chinese black mushroom (shiitake), soaked in 3/4 cup very hot water–reserve soaking liquid
1 tablespoon Shao Hsing wine or dry sherry
1 1/2 tablespoon premium light soy sauce
3/4 pound chard, washed and cut into 1 1/2″wide pieces, stems and leaves both.
1/2 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

Step one: Cut your ingredients into equivalent-sized and shaped pieces.

As I noted above, the purpose in cutting ingredients into similar sized and shaped pieces is not only aesthetic, but serves the purpose of allowing the food to cook evenly and quickly in the extremely high heat of the wok. If, for example, you cut your chicken into a jumble of different sized pieces, not only will the dish not look very good–likely, it will not taste very good either, as some will be done just right, while others will be overdone and others will be underdone. So, that is the general reason why Chinese cooks cut foods destined for the wok into small, similarly sized and shaped pieces.

But how is it done?

Let us look at the scallions first. I call for them to be cut thinly, on the bias. If you look at the photograph, you can see that I hold the knife at an extreme angle to the scallion, and slice it about 1/4″ thick. This results in a long, flat, ovoid slice, which not only looks nice with the long, narrow pieces of chicken and mushroom, but also serves a very practical purpose: it has more surface area exposed to the hot oil and wok than a typical round slice does. This means that can release more flavor into the oil as it cooks. The green garlic and chile are cut in exactly the same way, and since they are all going to go into the wok at the same time in this recipe, they are all put together in the same bowl, along with the fermented black beans.

The mushrooms are another matter. They need to be rehydrated, so soak them in very hot water as directed for at least ten minutes. If they are still somewhat crunchy after this time, then stick them in the microwave for about forty-five seconds on high. This heats the water and almost instantly rehydrates the mushrooms. After you take them from the microwave, let them cool off a bit before you remove them from the water. If you do not let them cool off from the microwave, you will burn your fingers.

Squeeze out as much water as you can, back into the bowl. Then, in order to remove the stems, fold each mushroom in half with the stem to the outside. Press each down on the cutting board with the stem exposed and carefully with a sharp knife, cut off the stem as close to the cap as possible. The stems can be saved and used in soup stocks, though they are too hard and chewy to eat. Pour most of the mushroom soaking water into a clean bowl, leaving the dregs, with the bits of grit and dirt in it behind in the first bowl, and reserve the clean liquid.

Then it is a simple matter of cutting the caps into four slices apiece.

For the chicken, it is imperative that you trim away any tendons, excess fat or odd bits of membrane that you find. Every chicken breast half has what is called by grocery stores, “chicken tenders or tenderloins.” This little flap of chicken is very tender indeed, but it also has a thick, chewy tendon that runs the length of it. The flap of meat is found on the underside of the chicken breast. Pull it out and cut it off, and then using your off hand, grasp the exposed bit of tendon at the top of the chicken tender. Using the edge of your knife blade, scrap the flesh away from the tendon, pulling the blade gently down the length of the white, tough piece of ligament. After it is removed, then you can cut the tender into pieces as described in the recipe.

For the rest of the breast, I think it is simplest to cut across the width of each breast half (If the breast is not already cut into halves, go ahead and do it yourself) into slices and then trim the pieces into size. Remember, each piece does not have to be -exactly- alike and perfectly the same size, but they need to be roughly the same size and shape. Do not get hung up on either making each bit perfect or doing it quickly. Practice working steadily and you will pick up speed as you have experience.

As for the chard–it is so simple to trim off the very bottom of the stems and then cut each stem/leaf combination into 1 1/2″ wide ribbons crosswise, that I didn’t take a picture of the process!

Step two: Marinate your chicken in a mixture that includes cornstarch.

As I noted in the original post, the cornstarch serves several purposes. One, it thickens the marinade, helping it cling tightly to the chicken. Two, it browns when it comes into contact with the wok, which not only helps the chicken brown, but also develops the elusive flavor of “wok hay.” Finally, three, it thickens the sauce that you will create by deglazing the wok with soy sauce, wine and the mushroom water.

A properly proportioned marinade should cling so tightly to the meat that there is no liquid left in the bowl, as shown in the illustration. If yours is looser, then add a pinch or two more cornstarch until it sticks to the meat. Mixing it all together is a simple proposition of squishing the cornstarch and marinade liquids together with the chicken until the chicken is all coated and slippery. After that, you simply let it sit for about twenty minutes or so.

Step Three: Have all ingredients ready and lined up beside the wok, before you heat the wok.

This is known in French as “mise en place,” and it means, “everything in its place.” Without doing this, stir-frying can be a harrowing, messy experience, so, before you set your wok on the fire, please, have your ingredients lined up, in the order that you will use them, next to the wok where you can grab them easily. You can see a good example of this in the very first illustration to this post, way up at the beginning.

Step Four: Heat your wok until it begins to smoke, then add the oil and heat it until it nearly smokes.

You have to get your wok as close to the heat as possible; this necessitates looking at your stove and buying a wok to suit it. If you have an electric stove, a flat bottomed wok is necessary. If you have a gas stove, like I do, you can use either a flat bottomed or a round bottomed wok on a wok stand; either one will work, but you must get your wok as close to the heat as you can and as hot as possible, so use the highest heat setting your stove will go to.

Unfortunately, I could not get a photograph of the white smoke that wafts up in a ribbon from a properly heated wok. It is an extremely difficult, ephemeral moment in time to capture on camera. However, I must reiterate, that you only perform this step if you have a carbon steel or cast iron wok. If your wok is nonstick, do not do this–you will ruin your nonstick surface and possibly breathe nasty chemical fumes. So, don’t go there.

However, if you have a well-seasoned carbon steel or cast iron wok, this is an essential step. When you put your wok on the heat naked, sans oil, and allow it to heat up, it opens the pores in the steel or iron, allowing the wok to “breathe.” When this happens, a thread of smoke will wisp up from the bottom of the wok and the scent of the wok seasoning will come with it. This scent is the basis of what the Cantonese call “wok hay,” or the breath of the wok. In my own inelegant way, I always used to call it “wok smell,” which doesn’t sound as poetic, but it is the same thing. It is the basis of what makes Chinese restaurant food taste so darned good, and which we are trying to capture at home. It will only take a few seconds for the oil to heat up; when it is ready, you will be able to see the surface of it “shimmer” with convection currents.

Step Five: Add your aromatic ingredients, in the order specified in the recipe and cook for a minute or two until they are fragrant and cooked to the point specified in the recipe.

With this recipe, all of the aromatics go in at once; I wrote it this way in order to simplify things. However, for this recipe, the aromatics are stir-fried for only about a minute. They should not be allowed to take on color at all while they cook alone. They will brown plenty while the rest of the ingredients cook. When you are ready for the next step, which is putting the chicken into the wok, simply scrape the aromatics up along the sides of the wok which are cooler than the bottom.

Step Six: Add the chicken, settle it into a single layer in the bottom of the wok and leave it there for about a minute or so to begin to brown deeply on the surface touching the wok.

This step is where most of the wok hay that you are going to have in your dish will build. And, it is probably one of the hardest things to will yourself to do.

As you can see in the accompanying photograph, the aromatics get scooted up the sides of the wok where they stay warm, but are not in direct contact with the very hot bottom of the wok. Then the chicken is added, and spread into as close to a single layer as can be managed–this is where knowing how much your wok will hold is important. Do not overcrowd the wok at this point, because you will cool it down and water will pour out of the chicken, and there will be no wok hay. (If there is any liquid left in the bowl from the marinade, reserve it. Do not put it in at this time!) Once you have it in a single layer, for this recipe you sprinkle the sugar on top of it, and then leave the chicken alone for about a minute to two minutes so that it can brown nicely on the bottom.

You will be able to smell this happening, but you can also with chicken see the edges on the side that is facing you begin to turn from pink to white. Be patient, and don’t start stirring right away. I know this is difficult. Once you smell the chicken browning and you see that the edges of some pieces are turning white, flip one piece near the center over with the corner of your wok spatula, and if you see a nice pattern of golden to reddish browning on it, start stirring, scraping the aromatics back into the wok proper to mix with the chicken. Throw in the mushroom slices and stir fry as normally until the chicken is cooked about 2/3 of the way–this means that about 2/3 of the chicken meat should be browned or white, and the remaining 1/3 pink.

You will notice that some of the cornstarch from the marinade has stuck to the bottom of the wok and is browning. Do not worry. This is going to be a good thing, as it will help make your sauce very full of flavor.

Step Seven: Add soy sauce, wine or some combination of the two to the wok and deglaze the cornstarch marinade, and toss the meat to season it.

Here is where the sauce starts cooking. Add the second amounts of soy sauce and wine, (and any remaining liquid marinade from the chicke bowl) and stir it around the wok, scraping up the bits of browned cornstarch so that the hot liquid can dissolve it. Then, stir in the meat and mushrooms, so that they all become well seasoned. This is the basis for your sauce, right here. It will look like very little sauce, it is true, however, the flavor will be full, bright and very, very filled with the natural flavors of the ingredients, particularly your aromatics. There is one remaining big step to making the sauce which will add to the bulk of it, so do not fear that you will have a “dry” dish. You won’t. This way of sauce making is typical of most Chinese homestyle cooking, and the results are delicious every time.

Step Eight: Add vegetables, in the order of how long they will take to cook, and stir fry.

Okay, in this case, we have already added the mushrooms–and in general–you can add your mushrooms earlier than any other vegetables. I like to add them to cook with the meat or tofu, because they all trade flavors back and forth the longer you cook them together. The chicken is lent some of the umami of the mushrooms, and vice versa. In fact, the longer you cook Chinese black mushrooms, the better.

So, that means you need to add your chard or other greens.

The goal in adding greens is to get them to wilt a little bit, but not turn into mush. The easiest way to accomplish this is to add them near the very end of the chicken being cooked, when there is just a touch of pink visible on the meat, and stir well for about thirty seconds and then go on to the very next step.

Which, is what we are going to do.

Step Nine: Add broth, any other sauce ingredients such as oyster sauce, hoisin or vinegar, stir fry until sauce thickens and clings to the pieces of food in the wok.

This is where the mushroom water comes in. Add half of it to the wok, stirring like mad to combine it with the rest of the sauce, and to let it help wilt the chard. If the chard does not cook sufficiently in thirty seconds, add the rest of the mushroom juice and stir some more. After a final minute of cooking, total, the chard should wilt just enough to mix well with the other ingredients (it should look like you only have half of the chard that went into the wok in the first place) and the sauce should all be thick and clinging tightly to the chicken, mushrooms and chard.

Take the wok off the heat.

Step Ten: Add garnishes, and any last minute flavoring items like spices or sesame oil, put into a warmed serving plate and serve.

First, toss into the wok the reserved scallion and green garlic tops, and give them a good stir to coat them with sauce and get them to wilt a tiny bit. You want them to remain essentially crisp, so thier flavor and texture remain quite fresh, as a contrast to the velvety texture of the wilted chard leaves.

The only thing left to add here is the sesame oil, which you always want to do at the last minute, preferably off heat, because toasted sesame oil burns and turns bitter easily. So, dribble into the wok while stirring and then you are done.

This looks more complicated than it is; in truth, once you start heating up the wok and then start cooking, this stir fry takes about eight minutes from start to finish. Of course, your time may be longer or shorter, depending on your wok and how hot your stove is.

Finally, before I go, here are a couple more hints to help you make stir-frying less stressful and more fun.

First of all, read each recipe through several times, and once you have your mise en place set up, read through the recipe again and make sure you have everything together, in the order in which it will go into the wok.

Secondly, keep your cool, and go at your own pace. If you have a one-handled wok and work on an electric stove, remember, you can always move the wok off the heat if the process seems to be going too fast for you. Then, take a breath, catch up and then when you need more heat, put the wok back on the heat. No sweat necessary.

If you have a gas stove, you can always turn down the heat a little bit to slow the process down. Sometimes, you cannot keep up, and so it is better to slow down than to risk burning an entire wokful of dinner. Once you have more experience stir-frying, you can pick up the pace and soon have food flying as fast as Martin Yan. But to begin with, take it slow and breathe deeply.

That is about all I can say on the subject of stir-frying chicken in one post, so, until next time, class is dismissed!

Doings at the Paper Palate

This is just a quick post to keep all of my readers up to date on what I am writing for the Paper Palate, and to give y’all a taste of some of the other great writing you can find on the Well Fed Network.

Inspired by a NY Times article called “Generation Pad Thai,” I expounded on kids, food, and kid food, on th 16th with “Kid Food: Little Palates And Big Appetites.”

The NY Post published a bit piece about yet another freelance writer demanding comps from a restaurant, so I explored the complex issue on the 18th.

On the 19th, careful reader Rose and I noticed that I had scooped the NY Times (sort of anyway) on the subject of umami, so of course, I wrote about that. ( I tried hard not to gloat too much.)

And finally, on the 20th, I reviewed Paula Deen’s new magazine. (Yes, Paula Deen has a new magazine. No, I don’t much like it, though she seems like a very nice lady.)

On the 17th, Christina of The Thorngrove Table presented a tasty-sounding recipe from Olive magazine–Steak with Spanish Tomato Salad.

And on the 15th, Beth ofHold the Raisins did a lovely job of testing Grace Young’s Stir Fried Garlic Lettuce from the San Francisco Chronicle before rushing off to her honeymoon! (Happy Honeymoon, Beth!) (BTW–that recipe does taste great–though when I had it, it was made with romaine lettuce.)

Finally, “The Candy Librarian” at Sugar Savvy lets us know how Hershey’s Kisses Get Their Shape. (I love The Candy Librarian. I just wanted to say that.)