Fearless feeding
Dining is one of the few times each day when we're able to indulge and have things our way. Within the past couple of weeks, though, with constant news reports of the ever-encroaching H7N9, it has turned it into somewhat of an anxious affair. Now, whenever I go out to eat with friends, Chinese and foreign alike, there comes a heated discussion of what's acceptable to order.
Can we have chicken? No, wouldn't even think of it. Pork? Maybe … Well I heard we probably shouldn't. Pigeon? You're out your mind.
I've never been someone to really worry about such things. I eat street food daily in Beijing, and have made it through several scares with a belly full of meat. And I survive to munch another day.
In these times, I actually find my cravings for whatever food I'm not supposed to eat spike exponentially. As I write these words I have images of La Zi Ji (chicken with chilies) or Rou Jia Mo (glorious meat sandwiches) running through my head.
After walking away from several dinners feeling full but somehow still hungry, I decided to stop fighting the Nervous Nelly impulses of my dining companions. Going with the flow is what tends to work well with most things in China, food-related or otherwise. I decided to forgo the chicken and delicious pork that I crave and instead embrace a new meat-free diet.
Growing up, I would have never dreamed of a meal without meat. The past couple of years in China, though, have changed that as I've tried many different regional takes on local greens. These dishes are nothing like the bland, boiled vegetables I pushed aside as a kid.
Visit any vegetarian restaurant in China and you'll quickly see how local chefs excel without meat to work with. They know very well how to work the alchemy of soybeans and greens into any of your favorite carnivore-friendly dishes.
Kung Pao Fried Tofu
That got me thinking: If you've got a craving for chicken, but don't got the cluckers to risk it, what you need is some Kung Pao Tofu.
For the laowai set, no dish says "China plus Chicken" better than good old Kung Pao. This plate of geometric chicken pieces glazed with a shiny red sauce skillfully walks the high rope between all five flavors. The other main components of the dish are the required peanuts and fat rounds of leek. Chicken is traditionally part of it, but tofu is certainly a fitting substitute.
Ingredients:
- 500 g firm tofu
- 80 g peanuts
- White part of 5 leeks
- 50 g bread crumbs
- 2 egg yolks, whisked
- 50 g flour
- 5 g salt
- 5 g black pepper
- 5 g dried chili powder
- 3 cloves garlic
- 3-centimeter cube ginger
- 10 dried chilies
- 5 g Sichuan flower pepper, or hua jiao
- 15 g white sugar
- 5 milliliters sesame oil
- 4 g cornstarch
- 15 milliliters Shanxi dark vinegar
- 10 milliliters dark soy sauce
- 60 milliliters peanut oil
Steps:
1. Drain tofu by wrapping with a towel and lightly press between two plates. Cut into 2-centimeter cubes.
2. In two separate bowls pour in flour and bread crumbs.
3. To the bowl of flour add: salt, black pepper, chili powder.
4. Line the bowls up in the order of flour, egg yolk, and bread crumbs.
5. Dip the tofu into each of the three bowls, in order.
6. Place breaded tofu onto wired rack and refrigerate for one hour.
7. Chop ginger into thin planks, dice the garlic cloves, and slice leeks into small rounds.
8. In a separate bowl, combine together: sugar, cornstarch, dark soy sauce, sesame oil, and dark vinegar.
9. Heat up half of the peanut oil in a sauté pan over medium heat.
10. Fry in small batches until breaded tofu is golden brown.
11. Pull from the pan and set aside.
12. Heat remaining peanut oil in a clean pan over medium heat.
13. Roughly chop dried chilies into small pieces. Add to pan along with Sichuan peppercorns. Cook for 30 seconds.
14. Add already fried tofu pieces back into chili/peppercorn oil and cook for one minute.
15. Toss ginger, garlic, and scallions into the pan along with tofu.
16. Pour sauce into the pan; stir to combine all ingredients together.
17. Add in peanuts and cook 30 seconds more. Serve immediately.
Punched Eggplant
If you are taking this food scare as a chance to go full-on vegetarian, China's got dishes for you by the menu-full. As a way of diving into the world of vegetable sustenance, I present to you Punched Eggplant.
A mortar and pestle are the key to this Southern Hunan dish, and their combined forces wield a mashing power that turns wonderfully meaty eggplant into a fresh salad.
Special Equipment:
-Tall-sided mortar and pestle
-Double boiler
Ingredients:
- 300 g eggplant
- 1 fresh chili pepper
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 green onion stalk
- 5 g salt
- 5 milliliters white vinegar
- 5 g sugar
Steps:
1. Wash and peel eggplant. Cut into centimeter-long strips.
2. Chop green onion into small rounds.
3. Steam eggplant in the upper tray of a double boiler for 10 minutes.
4. Roast pepper over flame until the skin is blackened. Peel skin off the pepper and wash under cold water.
5. Slice pepper open and remove seeds, then dice into small cubes
6. Add all ingredients, except for the green onion, to the mortar.
7. Using one hand to hold the mortar while gripping the pestle with your dominant hand, mash ingredients to combine (at least 30 strokes).
8. Plate up the mashed mixture and sprinkle green onion pieces on top.
There you go, two dishes so scrumptious that chicken or pork won't tempt you. You might even stick to your new meat-free diet with these as a start.