At Home with Chinese Cuisine (13 page)

If one must give a colour to the autumn in Beijing, then it must be orange. There is no other seasonal fruit that can be more orange than persimmons. Persimmons are newcomers in British supermarkets in recent years, imported mainly from Spain or Italy, with a different shape and texture from those found in Beijing. There are different varieties of persimmons available in Beijing. The locals’ favourite is a variety grown in FangShan, a district of the city of Beijing. It looks like the old-fashioned soybean stone grinder and is more squashed in shape than the European ones. With this particular variety, people like it very ripe and very soft. It can be frozen first and defrosted a little before eating. When one scoops the flesh out to serve, it has a texture reminiscent of sorbet.

If you had tried the European import of persimmons and thought they tasted a bit bland, the sun-dried persimmon is what you must try while in China. It is one of my favourite dried fruits. It has a concentrated flavour, especially the condensed natural sweetness and the slightly gluey texture of the flesh from dehydration. The fruit is pressed down to a thin round disk in the drying process. When dried, a thin layer of white powdery substance called persimmon frost is formed on the surface. The longer it is dried, the thicker the layer of frost. The frost is said to be effective for relieving coughs caused by the dryness of the atmosphere in the cold winter months. It is high in dietary fibre and nutrients such as calcium, vitamin A, beta-carotene, and minerals, and so it is a healthy snack similar to Medjool dates. It is a fruit the Chinese and the Japanese often have for the New Year celebration. It is thought to be an auspicious fruit that brings good luck and smooth sailing to all things one wishes to achieve in the New Year. As I nibbled away, I often thought what a loss to not have this fruit included commercially in the British collection of dried fruits, especially for the festive season. It has the seasonal frosty appearance, and its light muscovado-sugar sweetness reminds me very much of our homemade, brandy-soaked plum cake.

If I am asked about Shanghai in the autumn, the first thing that springs to mind is crab – lots of crabs. When one walks into the traditional market, it is a common scene to see live crabs crawling around in large tubs or being stacked up in barrels for sale with their claws tied with strings. People will only buy live crabs for consumption; boiled or dressed crabs are unheard of. There are many varieties of freshwater and seawater crabs available from the autumn onwards. Usually people look for the female crabs with plenty of roe at the beginning of the crab season. The gourmands will exercise their self-control and wait patiently until around December time, when male crabs are big enough to indulge on their delicate flesh.

For the Chinese, the YangChang Lake crab is the ultimate indulgence for crab lovers around October. This crab is protected by the Chinese Geographical Indication Protection legislation. The producers in the protected zone near the lake apply strict rules on the date the annual catch will start. They also agree on recommended retail price for a pair of male-female crabs. In recent years, the YangChang Lake crab has been marketed as a status symbol, targeting the newly rich with considerable success. It leads to demand outstripping supply every year, and consequently passing off becomes increasingly rampant.

I took the opportunity during my stay in Shanghai to experiment with the freshest crabs I could get hold of, and I prepared them with different cooking methods. Steaming the live crab is the best way to bring out the umami taste of the crab. To enjoy it delicately (
文吃
), there are traditional tool kits that have been around since the Ming Dynasty. They are designed to help enjoy different parts of the crab. The seasonal connection between the crab, chrysanthemum, ShauXing wine, and cool autumn air led to the birth of many well-known literary works from the gatherings of culture elites over the generations. Using the tools to tackle the crab reflect their leisurely approach to life and their sensitivity and passion for food. The number of tools ranges from a simple set of three to the extremely elaborated set of sixty-four. The most common kit used today has eight pieces and includes the hammer (
锤
), axe (
斧
), scraper (
刮
), fork (
叉
), long handle spoon (
勺
), tiny table (
镦
), a pair of scissors (
剪
), and tweezers (
鑷
). There are collector’s items made of precious metal with intricate design and are inlaid of precious stones. These days, they are mostly made of stainless steel, which is easy to look after.

Because crabs have a cold food property, they are customarily served with ginger, which has a warm food property. There is a traditional dip that has a mixture of finely chopped or shredded fresh ginger, a small pinch of sugar, and ZhenJiang rice vinegar; the dip can be served lukewarm or cold. To enjoy the crab with the dip, the aged ShauXing rice wine is unquestionably the best choice. Both aged Amontillado sherry and lukewarm sake are good alternatives. With lukewarm aged ShauXing rice wine, the locals are in gastronomical heaven. Personally, I prefer the rice wine at the autumn room temperature.

Northerners in general do not take crabs as seriously as the southerners. By the time autumn bids farewell, the crab season passes without much sound and fury in Beijing. Over a hot pot or a steamboat, they tuck into what they regard as the real food, the lamb, while gossiping about how well the YangChang Lake crab merchants have performed and the percentage of price hike they managed to achieve during the gift-giving mid-autumn festival.

Red meats are the food for the winter in Beijing. Hot pot is a popular way of having meats for all ages. Lamb is the traditional choice of meat, but beef, pork, and seafood are common alternatives these days. The way the meat is served is to slice it paper-thin in order to be dipped into the boiling liquid in the hot pot using a pair of chopsticks. They take seconds to cook and are deliciously tender. Hot pot is also a great way to have a large quantity of leafy vegetables. The leaves wilt and soften when blanched quickly in boiling liquid; they are then served with various dips on offer, and it’s a fun way to have a healthy meal.

The most popular dip in Beijing is a mixture of sesame paste, fermented bean paste, rice vinegar, soy sauce, fresh coriander, and spring onions. This mixture serves as a base with which the diner can play. Chilli oil, SiChuan peppercorn-infused oil, pickled chilli, fish sauce, and mustard are all possible additions. A dip that contains a paste made of Chinese chive flowers and pears
stand out most in my memory. The paste made of wild Chinese chive flowers is a dip often found in the Mongolian diet to accompany boiled lamb. With the addition of pears, I was told that the paste is quintessential Beijingese, and it’s a must for every household in the winter. Salt is used to preserve the chopped flowers and finely shredded pear; the mixture is left to mature for at least a couple of months. The bright green colour of the homemade paste 
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is very inviting even though it is very salty. With the tastes of sweetness from the pear, the pungent taste of the Chinese chive flowers, and the heavy taste of saltiness, the paste is a reminder of the old Beijing practice of having more salt in the winter diet for the nourishment of the kidneys.

Pickled garlic is a traditional Beijingese food to which I became addicted. For the authentic flavour, the garlic used for pickling has to be from a particular variety grown locally. The growing season for this variety of garlic is later than the other varieties available in Beijing; vegetable vendors will tell their regulars when it becomes available. I was told that almost every household wants to get hold of it, but the supply is limited. Therefore, commercially available pickled garlic tends not to be the genuine article. I was given a jar of the local garlic that had been stored for four months, and the garlic retained its crunchiness. While munching away on the garlic, I could detect independently the individual taste of pungency from the garlic, the acidity from the vinegar, and the sweetness from the sugar. The blending of these three tastes makes the pickle juice a formidable potion that will lighten up a simple bowl of piping hot noodle.

Shanghai does not have traditional pastes or pickled garlic for the winter months, but it has different varieties of fresh chestnuts in various sizes, textures, and sweetness. They are often sold freshly shelled and are easily available in the autumn and winter months. The damp, cold winter in Shanghai always gave me the urge for braised chicken with chestnuts. The largest chestnut similar to the variety used for the French marron glacé is easy to find in traditional markets; the variety we get in the tin or vacuum pack in the West is also common. But a smaller and more rounded variety that looks like a giant hazelnut is more popular with Shanghai locals. It has a firmer and waxier texture that is suitable for savoury dishes.

The variety that is used for the well-known sugar-roasted chestnuts in Beijing has a softer and slightly glutinous texture (even though chestnuts are actually gluten-free). The glutinous texture (
糯
) is what the locals prefer. YanShan chestnuts are grown within the boundary of the city of Beijing, and they are protected by the Chinese Geographical Indication Protection legislations. There was a shop I visited often for the genuine article; it was three metro lines away on the opposite side of Beijing from where I lived. Two or three kilogrammes of YanShan roasted chestnuts per visit made the long journey worthwhile. They were often the major source of my daily carbohydrate intake. Their warm food property makes them a good dietary choice for the winter months. They also provided me with dietary fibre, B vitamins, vitamin C, and minerals. They taste the best when the shells are just cool enough to handle, and they are easier to peel when warm. I also liked them cold, when they taste nuttier. They can be reheated in the microwave oven,
but take care not to reheat them for too long, or they will explode and make a mess.

Roasted seeds and nuts in the shell are popular finger food for the Chinese. When vendors roast and sell them, it signals the arrival of the Chinese New Year festive season. Freshly roasted sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, and peanuts in the shell are popular choices. People often buy a bag of sunflower or pumpkin seeds and hold them in one hand, using their front teeth to crack open the shells and move the seeds into the mouth, a skilful act that requires a bit of practice. Roasted almonds, hazelnuts, walnuts, pine nuts, and pecan nuts in the shell are also available in grocery stores or shops at a reasonable price.

I must make a special mention of the roasted walnuts with paper-thin shells from YunNan Province. I love them so much that I went to visit the growers. Once the walnuts are harvested, they are roasted and stacked in the sack for sale. They have a very thin shell; one can crack the nut open by pressing two together in one’s palm. The nuts have a translucent skin that does not taste tannic at all; the oil content of the nuts must be quite high. I can obtain a layer of oil from grinding the roasted nuts. My winter treat is to mix ground walnuts and the oil with the single varietal wild honey from the nearby region where the walnuts are grown. The honey is harvested once a year in December and is available in one small hillside region that has a particular wildflower the indigenous black bees like. The bees bury the honey underground in chunks, and the honey has a pale golden colour. It is thick and silky and remains so in the fridge. Its sweetness is reminiscent of concentrated sugar cane juice, and it has a hint of citrus acidity from royal jelly contained in the honey.

In the winter, the aroma of baked sweet potato starts to appear in the streets. They are baked in a clay oven that is loaded on to a cart or the back of a bicycle. An S-shaped hook is inserted into one end of the sweet potato, which is then hung inside the oven and baked whole until soft. The skin keeps the soft flesh attached to it, making eating it in the street possible. We always ask for the piping hot ones because the texture is softer and it keeps our hands warm. The sweet potato has a neutral food property and is therefore suitable for consumption all year round. This root vegetable is rich in vitamins A, B, C, and E; minerals; and beta-carotene. It is also rich in dietary fibre. It is therefore regarded as a good substitute for the carbohydrate intake for those who suffer from constipation, in particular the elderly.