the velveteen chicken

Complete and total comfort food. And one of those odd recipes that doesn't necessarily sound like it will work. The majority of the "cooking time" for this chicken recipe involves no actual heat.

And does it really feel like velvet? Yes, actually, it really does. Smooth and not at all stringy, super moist and flavorful. I even used some of the poaching liquid to saute baby bok choy for a perfect homestyle cozy dinner.



VELVET CHICKEN

1 3-pound chicken, rinsed and dried
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth (low sodium)
1 cup dark soy sauce
1 cup Chinese rice wine (preferably Shaoxing)
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 bunch scallion, cut into 3-inch pieces
2 inches ginger, peeled and sliced 1/4-inch thick
4 strips of orange zest
1 tablespoon salt
3 whole cloves
2 whole star anise
1 dried red chile
1 teaspoon Sichuan peppercorns
Chopped cilantro

Add everything except the chicken and the cilantro to a large pot. Bring to a boil. Carefully lower the chicken in breast side down. Immediately reduce heat to a simmer. Cover the pot and cook for 15 minutes.

Turn off the heat and don't touch the pot for 30 minutes. Then flip the bird over, cover, and let sit for another 15 minutes.

Remove the chicken. Break down into legs, thighs, wings, and breasts and arrange on a platter. Pour some of the poaching liquid on top of the chicken and garnish with cilantro.

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sunset park food binge: chinese long beans

We're finally getting pockets of gorgeous weather here and there in NYC, and it is especially nice that these pockets tend to happen on the weekend. Last Saturday we had an amazing spring day and it was the perfect day to spend eating our way through Sunset Park, Brooklyn. We were taken on this food tour by the lovely Lofts twins, Greg and Steve, Sunset Park residents and champions. And - perfect for us - big time foodies. The food tour included Banh Mi, oyster cakes, curry fish balls, fried taro, chicken wings, spicy squid, hand-pulled noodles, donuts, cream buns, bubble tea, and plenty of grocery shopping in the numerous Asian markets along the way.

Sunset Park contains one of three Chinatowns in NYC. It's the smallest, but it's not small, and it has the advantage of being somewhat less insanely crowded than either the Manhattan or Flushing Chinatowns. Whenever I'm in any of the three Chinatowns, I go buckwild buying groceries. There are a lot of treats that I grew up on that I can only find in Chinatown - pork buns, sticky rice, Chinese broccoli, fresh water chestnuts, lotus root, steamed flower buns, Shanghai Noodles, the list goes on and on. I lugged a whole lotta groceries home on the subway that day. One of those items were these Chinese long beans.



Chinese long beans are pretty similar to string beans and can generally be used interchangeably. Their texture is a little less snappy than green beans, but I love how thin they are, and I think they have a distinctly different flavor. As with string beans, I prepare long beans in a super simple way because I mostly just want to enjoy their fresh flavor. Recipe after the jump:



GINGER-GARLIC CHINESE LONG BEANS

1 lb Chinese long beans, stem ends trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tbsp canola oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp minced fresh ginger
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp Shaoxing rice wine (or dry sherry)
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
2 tbsp water
1 tsp sugar
salt and pepper, to taste
2 scallions, chopped

Mix together the soy sauce, rice wine, sesame oil, water, and sugar and set aside. Heat a large saute pan over high heat. Add the canola oil to the hot pan and heat until shimmering. Add the garlic and ginger and saute for 30 seconds until fragrant, being careful not to burn it. Add the long beans and saute for a couple of minutes until beginning to soften. Add the liquid and toss to coat, when the liquids begin to boil, lower heat to a strong simmer and allow the liquids to reduce. Add salt and pepper to taste. Allow beans to simmer until tender-crisp, it should not take more than a few minutes. Add in the chopped scallions just before taking it off the heat, reserving a few tablespoons for garnish. Serve with steamed white rice.

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comfort of all comforts: pork fried rice

For me, there is no greater comfort food than fried rice. I find myself thinking quite a lot about it these last few days, as we approach the one-year anniversary of my father's death. He once told me that the way to know if a Chinese cook was really any good was to taste his fried rice.He was a true master of fried rice. It was the dish that he always made for me, he knew how much I loved it. Family meals were not complete without it, and he always made extra for me to take home. I miss his fried rice. Of course, mine does not really compare, but I'm working on it.

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singapore-inspired chicken rice

I wasn't going to blog about the dinner I made last night. The main reason is that it was such a simple, utterly uninteresting-looking dish that I just didn't file it in my mental drawer for "Dishes to Blog About". But after we ate...and ate, and ate, and kept talking about it, I realized that it was actually such an awesome dish that I couldn't possibly keep it from you.

It was sort of my easy weeknight take on traditional Hainanese Singapore Chicken Rice, the national dish of Singapore. This is true homestyle cooking, and is simply boiled chicken with what some describe as "oily rice", rice that is cooked in chicken stock. The authentic way to make the dish apparently involves not only boiling the whole chicken in pork and chicken stock, but making a completely separate stock for cooking the rice. I don't know why exactly, but I wasn't going to boil a whole chicken on a Monday night anyway, so I just bought a carton of broth. In order to get the oily quality and more intense chicken-y flavor, I seared chicken thighs in a touch of oil first, then removed them from the pot and sauteed the ginger, scallions and the uncooked rice in that chicken fat before adding the broth and bringing to a boil. It did the trick. The rice was just the right amount of oily - not greasy like fried rice - and the flavor was spectacular. After the rice came to a boil, I returned the chicken to the pot, resting atop the rice, then lowered to a simmer and covered it for about 20 minutes, until the rice was tender and the chicken super juicy. I was all ready to have dipping sauces on the side - as they do in Singapore - like chili sauce, dark soy sauce, oyster sauce, etc., but there was so much flavor just as it was that I didn't even bother. Ah, comfort food. Recipe after the jump:

SINGAPORE-STYLE CHICKEN RICE
4 chicken thighs, with skin
2 1/2 cups uncooked Jasmine rice
4 cups chicken stock or broth
2 tsp toasted sesame oil
3 scallions, thinly sliced
1 3-inch portion of ginger, peeled and thinly sliced
1 tsp oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Wash and pat dry the chicken thighs, then salt and pepper liberally. In a large saucepan, heat the oil on high, then add the chicken thighs skin side down to sear until brown, about 5 minutes per side. Remove the chicken and set aside. You only need 3 or 4 tablespoons of fat in the pan, so if the chicken gave up much more fat, you can drain some off. To the fat in the pan, add the sliced scallions and ginger and saute for a couple of minutes to bring out the fragrance. Add the uncooked rice and saute another minute until the grains are coated with the oil. Add the chicken broth and bring to a boil. When it boils, add the sesame oil, stir the rice well, then lower to a simmer and add the chicken thighs back to the pot, laying atop the rice. Cover and simmer for 25-30 minutes, until the rice is cooked through. Top with additional chopped scallions.

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mapo tofu

Mapo Tofu is classic homestyle Szechuan cooking. To me, that means comfort food. It's not something that you see on too many menus at Chinese restaurants, whether it's a take-out joint or a classy joint. Perhaps that's because it's not really an attractive dish, or it's too peasanty, who knows. My dad used to make various versions of this dish, never the same twice, and I'm not even entirely sure that there is one specific way that is truly authentic. Mine is certainly far from authentic because I too never make it the same way twice. But the constants are simple: tofu, minced meat, and spicy.



My simple way to get spicy is from chili garlic sauce. I think the real way involves Szechuan peppercorns, which are not easy to find (until recently they were not available here at all), but this sauce serves its purpose just fine. I used ground pork this time, but I often use ground beef, and for some reason I always throw in edamame now, I just like the contrast in texture. This is by no means an authentic recipe, but it's quick and easy and really satisfying. Recipe after the jump:



EASY (FAKE) MAPO TOFU

1 tbsp peanut or vegetable oil
1/2 pound ground beef or pork
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 package firm tofu (not silken)
2 tablespoons chili paste or chili garlic sauce (or more, depending on your preference)
1 teaspoon black bean paste
1/4 cup chicken broth or chicken stock
1 cup frozen shelled edamame
3 scallions, chopped

In a large heavy skillet or saute pan, heat oil, then crumble, salt, and brown meat. Add chicken stock, chili sauce, and black bean paste. Cut the tofu into 1-inch cubes, add to the pan, and allow to simmer for 5 minutes or until heated through. If the mixture is too dry, add additional stock. Add the frozen edamame and most of the scallions (hold back some for garnish), simmer an additional 5 minutes or until edamame are cooked. If the mixture is too soupy, make a slurry of cornstarch and water, add to the pan and simmer until desired consistency. Serve over steamed white rice and garnish with chopped scallions.

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dad's pancakes - or trying to come close

Mark Bittman's article in today's New York Times focuses on various types of pancakes from different parts of the world. Like the ubiquitous dumpling, it seems that pretty much every culture has some kind of pancake, and most of them are not meant to be covered in maple syrup and served for breakfast. When I think of savory pancakes, the first thing that comes to mind is my father's scallion pancakes. He would often make a stack of those for me on the random day when I was home from school and would be lounging around the house all day. I would devour a bunch at lunchtime, then they would sit out in the kitchen calling to me for the rest of the day. Popping them into the toaster for a few minutes would recrisp the edges and brown them even further. I could continually eat them all day.



My father doesn't cook very often anymore and his scallion pancakes are only one of dozens of his dishes that I miss. It seems that no restaurant version comes remotely close. The kind I've made myself - trying to duplicate exactly what I've seen him do on dozens of occasions - does come a lot closer, but as with all of his dishes that I've attempted, there's always something mysterious missing. I guess that's the magic of the great cook. My recipe after the jump:

Almost My Dad's Scallion Pancakes

INGREDIENTS

2 cups flour
1 cup hot water
1/2 cup chopped scallions, green and white parts
2 tbsp toasted sesame oil
salt
white pepper
1/4 cup vegetable oil

PREPARATION:

Mix together the flour and water and knead into a smooth, workable dough. It should not be too sticky or too hard, you may need to adjust the amount of flour or water to get the right consistency. Pull off a large handful of dough and cover the rest with plastic film or a slightly damp kitchen towel. On a floured surface, roll the dough into a thin round, the thinner the better. Sprinkle several drops of sesame oil evenly onto the disk. (I usually use a pastry brush to lightly and evenly brush the oil on, I find that prevents adding too much.) Sprinkle with salt and white pepper, then sprinkle chopped scallions evenly over the surface. Roll the disk up away from you like a jelly roll, rather tightly but not so tightly that you break the dough. Then, starting at one end, roll up the log from one end to the other into a large spiral. You should be rolling parallel to your work surface so that the spiral is laying flat, it should basically look like a snail laying on its side. Tuck the end of the log under the spiral and flatten it against the board with the palm of your hand. Using the rolling pin, roll the spiral out to about 1/8 inch thick, or however thick you like it. I like it on the thin side. Continue this process with the remaining dough, stacking the completed pancakes on a plate with slightly damp paper towels or sheets of wax paper separating them. A light dusting of flour on each pancake helps prevent sticking as well.

To cook: Heat a tablespoon of oil on a skillet on medium-high. (I personally do not like using too much oil, I prefer a pancake that it pan-fried, not deep-fried. So there should not be so much oil that the pancake gets immersed.) Pan fry the pancake on both sides until golden brown and crisp. Cut into wedges.

The classic accompaniment for scallion pancakes is a soy dipping sauce similar to one served with dumplings. I usually just combine soy soy with a splash of white vinegar, a couple drops of sesame oil, and whatever scallions I have left over after making the pancakes. Of course, if you season your pancakes well enough, you shouldn't even need sauce because these are delicious as they are.

The technique of rolling the dough into a log and then into a spiral before rolling out again creates the great layered flaky pancake that I love to eat by peeling off the layers one by one. And yes, I would eat an entire pancake at a time, so there wasn't much point in cutting them into wedges...

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