Garlic ginger onion sauce for Chow's (lame-looking) Hainan-style chicken and rice

The best thing in the world is Hainan chicken rice (海南雞飯, sometimes called Hainan oily chicken rice by ignorant translators).

It's not the best thing in the world because of the poached fresh and flavourful chicken with an inverted mound of steamed chicken-infused rice... It is the best thing in the world because of the accompanying dipping sauces.

[Ugly platter of Hainan chicken rice and some overcooked gai-lan (Chinese broccoli); I stepped out to watch Jeopardy! for 2 minutes and that's how they got overcooked. Alex Trebek is a riveting host.]

Hainan chicken rice is often served with just two sauces -- three, if you're lucky! Usually, it's some variant of a chili sauce, some watered down version of nam pla, straight-up pounded ginger, oyster sauce mixed with soy sauce, and/or (my fave) minced garlic with ginger and onion and chilis (if I had children, this one would be the one getting all the Ghostbusters toys it wanted).

Cooking the chicken is a slightly arduous a process; most of the time is spent waiting, but this chicken dish is well-worth the wait.

I won't get into details about cooking the chicken and rice, but if your Canto is good, you can probably figure it out with the help of Hong Kong celebrity master chef, Master Chef Ko (sometimes he's called High Master but it has nothing to do with drugs).

Here's my take on my favourite one...

Garlic, ginger and green onions dipping sauce
2 Tbsp (30 ml) fresh ginger, finely chopped (~1 inch piece) (NOT processed)*
2 Tbsp (30 ml) fresh garlic, finely chopped (NOT minced or pressed)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) green onions (spring onions), finely chopped
1 tsp (5ml) chopped, fresh red chilis (or more if you're a masochist)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) fish sauce (nam pla) or soy sauce if you are a fish-hater
1/2 tsp (2 ml) to 1 tsp (5ml) salt
1/4 cup (75 ml) vegetable oil 

* You don't want to process the ginger or garlic because the juices will dissipate. Best to hand chop them. Or if you have no hands, ask someone who has hands, or a slapchop doodad.

1. In a medium heat-proof bowl or mason jar, mix the ginger, garlic, onions, fresh chilis together with the salt. 
2. In a small frying pan or saucepan, heat the vegetable oil until hot but not smoking. When ready, pour the hot oil over the mince mix. It will be hot, so don't get any oil spattered on you. 
3. Serve with your chicken or eat straight out of the bowl.

I realise that I need Chinese chicken carving lessons from Fat Auntie, so spare me the criticisms. I get hassled enough at home.

Witch's brew: blue tea that might cause hallucinations

Now, I'm no stranger to tea, but this one called Palo Azul (literally "blue stick") that my friends in the Neths found in Guatemala piqued my interest, mainly because it makes you poop money was obtained through a mysterious tea witch and also turned blue when prepared.


[Palo azul prepared for consumption. No fancy filters used! Photo by François M.]

I asked them about this intriguing demon concoction -- which turns out to be a diuretic, and also used a cheap way of duping dope testing (especially useful for those avoiding military service conscription).

Here's an excerpt of my interrogation session with Lin and François.
----
Chow: Tell me more about where and how you got a hold of this tea...
Lin: When I went to visit Guatemala with my friend Nerea last October on holiday, we were relegated to indoor sight-seeing as the weather was horrible and somewhat dangerous, and we were apparently sitting ducks between two hurricanes in adjacent countries. We went to visit an indoor market in Antigua to find some Pericón tea, which I had had everywhere in Guatemala but couldn't find in the supermarkets.

At the market, we were directed to the farthest end where a woman (whom I would describe as a "herb witch") was peddling all sorts of branches, leaves, resins, barks and some unidentifiable, organic looking objects. To my disappointment, she had no Péricon tea, however she offered me another kind of infusion: branches with small leaves and an indistinguishable but rich and fragrant aroma. I bought some of the branches, and while she was packing the "tea", my eyes caught sight of wooden cubes and asked her what they were for (assuming she would come up with a story on a Mayan ritual). Instead, she nonchalantly mentioned the cubes were used for infusing, so I decided to try them as well. While packing the cubes, she told me that the cubes had to be boiled until the water would turn light blue. Light blue?! But I already told her I would buy them...
François: What she said.


[The wooden cubes and the infusion. They look like Duraflame firestarter and probably smell like them.]

C: Did the tea witch have large fang-like teeth, googly eyes and smell like a retirement home? 
L: The smell of the tea witch was camouflaged by the smells of the rotten fruits and veggies of the stalls around her, not to mention the Mayan incense lit in her own stall.

C: What convinced you that this was a good idea? Did the witch put a spell on you?
L:  It was probably the intrigue of the cubes and the way to prepare them. I did, however wait about five months before I felt it safe enough to try to try the tea. On that particular evening, we were at home with five people, including one physician. We applied a first-in-human procedure, in which one person drank the tea in sitting position, and maybe 15 minutes later, a second person drank the tea. The other three persons present were observers with a phone within reach.

C: How did you prepare this tea? What did it tea taste like?
L: We put about 500 mL of cold water in a pot, added a cube, and started to boil the water on a gas flame. As the water heated, the cubes started to imbue the water with a yellow colour. In phase II, the water became brown. Then, after approximately 10 minutes, the surface of the water started to get a mystical shine, which became more and more blue. This is the point where we poured the water in our cups, and went to the laboratory setting. The taste of the tea is not tea-like. It tastes mild, not very characteristic and not bitter. [Chow note: Lin is a scientist.]
F:  Rather bland, considering how it looks. Think something between a neutral watery taste and some vague forest-floor flavour.  It leaves a bit of film in your mouth. It's ever so slightly, subtly oily... And you know that blue stuff has to coat all your organs on the inside, right?

C: Uh, okay... Did you have the urge to urinate frequently afterwards? 

L: In the adverse events, no diuretic effects were reported. [Chow note: Again, Lin is a scientist.]
F: It didn't make me rush to the pissoir... probably similar to regular tea in this regard (i.e. modest urge-inspiring effects).

C: Did you pee blue?
F: Nope. The blue found another way of escaping. Or it is still in me...
C: What did you start hallucinating after drinking the tea? 
L: We actually believed the infusion looked blue!
F: (Chuckle).

C I read that people drink this tea to help them pass drug tests... Was there any plans to join the army or navy or some other organization requiring clean urine samples?
L: No comment.
F: Hell, don't all boys?

C: What did you do with the tea you didn't drink? You can be honest and say that you watered your plants with it...
L: We still have some cubes left, and after having started doing clinical experiments, plant experiments would indeed be a very interesting next step to take.
F: I just had another cup of this blue devil-witch drink a while ago, after letting it breathe (in a pot on the table top) for 2 days. I'm still breathing.
-----
Special awesome thanks to François for his mad photography skills and for loaning the photos for this post. (P.S. He is for hire if you live near the Netherlands.)

Fun with bacon crafts

Ideal for a casserole/savoury pie topper or camping blanket, try weaving bacon.

[A bacon weave, soon to be the next girl scout achievement badge.]

(Inspired by craftster.)

Phyllo fanatics' fresh fixation

Sometimes, the very thought of phyllo pastries (made of phyllo dough, filo, phyllo pastry leaves, börek, pâte phyllo, etc) makes my arteries preemptively clog up, or my blood pressure spike.

Often in Greek and Middle Eastern traditions, each fine layer of fragile dough is slathered with melted butter or oil to make them crispy, often resulting in rich, flaky, rich and deliciously full-bodied, and buttery rich (my heart just hiccuped writing that).

However, at Melina's Phyllo Bar, your heart can rest easy: the pastries here are ace, and perfectly crispy without being overly oily.

Following our intense ninja vampire-hunter training, my buddy Leo and I headed over to this cozy shop in the armpit heart of Mile-End to fill our tummies.


[Leek pie (prasopita), it's vegan, but all Greek to me! Wakka-wakka....]

Here, phyllo pastries are treated like members of the royalty — adored as the centre of attention, yet unassuming and delicate; both the savoury and sweet fillings are tasty. The phyllo is slightly thicker than store-bought phyllo, but if you've ever tried to make phyllo, you know it's the work of a demon spawn... Joanna, the amazors co-proprietor, says it's a secret recipe for which she pretty much has exclusivity —  and not made commercially, so suck it to all those creeping restaurateurs looking to try to muscle in on Melina's phyllo. She's got two armed ninja bodyguards watching over her!


[Spanakopita: feta and spinach and half-eaten, thanks to Leo.]


[Background: photo collage of Melina Mercouri, the modern muse of Greece and also shop's inspiration. Oh, and Leo in the foreground, burping.]


[Leo tried to hide the entire bougatsa (semolina custard pastry) in her mouth from the prying eyes of pedestrians on Parc avenue. It worked.]

After the pastries are all hidden in your stomach, you can chase it all down with a variety of espresso-based drinks. I chose to wash my phyllo pastries down with a Greek soda concoction called Ivi (owned by Pepsico, of course); Melina's is the first in this province to carry this product.


[Ivi uncarbonated orangeade, a taste of nostalgia. Remember when you had school events, and they always served that orange drink from the giant yellow and red drink dispenser cooler from McDonald's? That's what Ivi is, and it brings a tear to my eye.]

Chow and Leo ninja-refuelling rating for Melina's = 4 ninja stars.

Melina's Phyllo Bar
5733 ave. du Parc
(514) 270-1675 

Hanging out with my pal Char Siu

Everyone who knows Char Siu knows that there's no fooling around when it comes to barbecue. Steve Raichlen doesn't hold a candle to char siu (sorry, Mr. Raichlen).

Char siu, or Chinese barbecue pork 叉燒 (literally "fork roast" but can also mean "stabbing burn"*) is scientifically proven to be everyone's second favourite meat, and is eaten year-round, in steamed buns (bao 包), in sandwiches, topped on ramen, or stand-alone (not only at Chinese New Year).

Contrary to tradition, the beautiful roast red colour on char siu is often a result of red food colouring, the CHEATERS way of getting that awesome colour. Cheaters, as we know, get turned into pillars of shame, and end up on Jerry Springer with illegitimate twins.

The REAL way of getting the red is using red fermented bean curd which lends to the flavour and the red colour without artificial colours. You can also be a lazy doof and buy the jar of char siu marinade which doesn't taste as good. Up to you if you want to be a doof.


[This is how I roll. The medium-fatty pork loin version of char siu.]

As is customary for enterprising Asian food mart merchants, CNY foodstuffs prices are jacked up prior to the holiday. I wasn't about to pay $10/lb for a sliver of delicious barbecued pork, so I made my own from pork loins. The loins were, IMO, not fatty enough for my taste but plenty good on flavour. Opting for more of an authentic roast, I hung the char siu to roast in the oven, just like the big boys do!


[Suspended animation: char siu roasting on makeshift hooks in my convection oven. Looks weird, but so do bodybuilders.]

Chow's Char siu 
Marinade (for ~3 lbs pork)
1 Tb (15ml) light soy sauce
3 tsp salt
4 cloves garlic
1 Tb (15ml) chopped ginger
2 stalks green onions
1.5 Tbs (22ml) five-spice powder
3 Tb (45ml) honey, corn syrup, or maltose
2 cubes red bean curd
1 Tb (15ml) rice wine


Glaze
1 Tb (15ml) honey

1. Salt your meats and let it sit at least 30 min. This is always important
2. Meanwhile, combine all ingredients for the marinade.
3. Score your meats (optional) by making very shallow slits perpendicular to the grain of the meat, as so.
   [I was told that scoring cross-grain on one side of the loin would keep it from curling. Who cares about it curling when it all goes into your stomach!]
4. Marinade your meats in the marinade (minimum 4 hours, recommended overnight in fridge, while letting warm up to almost room temperature prior to cooking).
5. If roasting in a tray and rack, first cover the rack in aluminium foil, pierce a few holes in the foil, and then lay down a few chopsticks at intervals on the foiled rack. Lay the meat over the chopsticks so that it is basically propped over the foiled rack.
   If you roast them hanging, make sure you place a tray at the bottom of your oven to catch the delicious char siu drippings which will be lost to you forever because it's no longer edible.   
6. Roast for 25 to 30 minutes in total for a 3lb roast, testing at 20 minutes for doneness. When near done, paint the honey glaze all over the meat (flip if required). 
7. When done, remove from oven and let sit for 10 minutes. Slice thinly and eat while your gluttonous family members are still watching television. 

* When I was subjected to Rorschach tests, I always saw demon dophins. 

Deep-fried Lunar New Year treats: Crispy Sesame Flower aka Dragon Cloaca

It's that time of year again, where old and young Asian kinfolk bring together their bickering over a family supper table. Yes, it is Chinese New Year today.

Aside from the traditional gut-busting home-cooked Chinese gastronomy the eve, there is also no shortage of Chinese tradi-superstitions, to which I don't really adhere; here's a shortlist of some CNY buffoonery:

• Cleaning your house on the new year (that's what domestic helpers are for).
• Avoiding the use of scissors or knives (so all haircuts happen before CNY mean barbers and salons gouge clients for 10x the normal fee).
• Eating as many sweets as you can stomach before your teeth fall out.
• Giving money in the form of red pockets is auspicious, especially if they're for me. 

However, stupidstitions aside, here's one deep-fried tradition I did honour for year 4710, or the Year of the Dragon: crispy sesame flowers (脆麻花, cheoi mah fah). They resemble nothing less than the anus of a dragon (mostly because my handywork is sub-par... sue me). 

[Crispy sesame flowers; definitely not flower-shaped, rather, they're like three-dimensional Möbius strips.]

The recipe is the same as the one used for Smiley Face Nuggets with a slight variation: a smidgen less sugar and the addition of one cube of red fermented bean curd (南乳, "southern fermented bean curd") for each cup of flour used.

[Red fermented bean curd. Again, the Western translations here are stupid; ridicule liberally.]


[Before the magic red fermented bean curd is mixed in the dough.]

Once mixed in (you might need a bit more flour), roll it out, cut into 2-inch strips and like a plastic surgeon, make an incision in the middle parallel to the long edge, and then thread one end through the incision. Deep fry the flipped dragon anuses doughthings until golden, and drain on paper towels.

[Rolled out and ready to go.]

A recipe using (1) one cup of flour will yield about 2.5 cups of deep-fried biscuits and raise your LDL cholesterol by 20 points.

Gung hei fat choi 恭喜發財! 
(P.S. My resolution this year is to clean my potty mouth. So far, it is not happening.)

Tourtière abberation by Chow

Whatever I'm going to write now about tourtière will probably receive some eyebrow-raising and some harsh poo-pooing from any bonne dame de région* but maybe not...!

This is a tale of the birth of a French-Canadian meat pie that was born out of wedlock and raised with love; this is the Chow tourtière made from pork, potatoes and chicken hearts.


[Diminutive version of the meat pie designed for loggers.]

Chicken hearts, though they might be the ugly duckling of the meat world, are (as Subordinate Chow put it) "the most tasty meat in the world until someone told you it was chicken hearts."

Traditionally served as a sleep-inducing meal (réveillon) on Xmas and New Year's eves, it is a perfect sedative for holiday church masses (if the actual mass doesn't put you to sleep first). Les québécois were pretty resourceful folk back in the day, and used whatever meats were local and available to them to make tourtière. (Perhaps I might not be off the beaten track after all.)

This aberration tourtière involves stuffing a double pie crust with a mix of ground chicken hearts and ground pork, with diced potatoes, onions, salt and pepper, herbs (thyme, bay leaf, oregano) baked in a deep dish pie plate (or double the recipe and bake in a cast iron Dutch oven for that extra authenticity no one really cares about unless it means more food).

[Keep the meat and meat grinder cold and your work will be cut out for you.]

The fact that there are not only one but two types of tasty animals in this dish means it's twice as tasty; my math is good.

(Take heed, vegetarians and vegematarians: skip the dead animals and use ground hazelnuts, seitan, ground chickpeas, lentils, TVP (textured vegetable protein), chopped mushrooms, and/or caramelized onions, or combination of all of them.)

May 2012 bring you new tidings of glee in the form of good food and drink! Now for the REAL new year celebrations...

* old bat from Quebec boonies.