Savor the Chinese Flavor
By “Awake!” correspondent in Taiwan
HAVE you had the experience of preparing a Chinese meal? As a recent arrival here in Taiwan, I enjoyed this fascinating experience. A nearby neighbor, Mrs. Ch’en, agreed to help me with preparing this meal for our family of six. In fact, she was more than willing.
On the appointed day Mrs. Ch’en arrived early eight o’clock in the morning. We exchanged the greetings of the day in Chinese. This much Mandarin Chinese I have already learned. We soon broke into English and she said: “Let’s go before the market gets too crowded.”
To the Market
We cut through a narrow back alley. Small children are everywhere. Women are getting their daily wash out to dry, stringing the clothes onto long bamboo poles that are then suspended across the alley from fence to fence. We duck and dodge our way through the washing.
Closer to the market the crowds increase. Daily shopping is the custom, the habit of centuries even though home refrigeration is becoming increasingly common. By midmorning the market will be jammed with people, and the meat, fish and vegetables will have been well picked over. I am glad we are early.
The Ch’ang Ch’un Lu (Eternal Spring Road) market hardly belongs in the supermarket family—no rows of gleaming canned, packaged and frozen goods. Rather, the main market has a large pavilion-type roof, sheltering upward of sixty small stalls that sell everything in the fresh food line. Outside, scores of small stands line both sides of Ch’ang Ch’un Lu.
“Let’s get the pork first,” Mrs. Ch’en says.
Oh, yes. We are cooking sweet and sour pork today.
Just look at those meat stalls! Loins, shoulders, strips of fat, bones and intestinal parts hanging before our eyes! They are there to pick and squeeze, finger and choose as one wishes.
Mrs. Ch’en chooses a fine-grained, light pink, tender-looking piece of loin, asking for one “chin” (pronounced “gin”). One chin is about one and a third pounds. Each chin is divided into sixteen liang. The butcher uses a hand-held sliding-weight balance. Our meat hangs by a hook from the short end while the butcher slides the weight along the other end until it balances. We leave with one chin of pork loin wrapped in a banana leaf and tied securely with a grass string.
Next Mrs. Ch’en proceeds to select the very best vegetables. We need onion, ginger and spinach for the chicken and spinach soup. The cabbage and fresh mushrooms will make the vegetable dish we have selected to complement the sweet and sour pork. Some bargaining follows, and we save some money on the mushrooms. I note that bargaining seems to be the custom.
We need some fruit, but it is outside along the street. Hanging rows of dressed chickens and ducks line our exit route. There are also large wicker baskets full of noisy, clucking, quacking birds for persons who wish to buy them alive. We purchase a small piece of chicken breast for use in our soup. As we leave I notice a woman selecting some small live fish from a shallow water tank full of fish and eels, all squirming and wriggling their last moments together.
Outside, we select some tangerines and half of a large mouth-watering watermelon from one of the fruit stands. The melon, Mrs. Ch’en comments, will add just the right flavor to top off our meal.
Work in the Kitchen
At home the chores begin! The vegetables and meat must all be cut into sizes and shapes easily handled with chopsticks. Convenience in using the chopsticks is one reason for this care, but also it makes the meal look attractive. It seems that the Chinese consider three things important in preparing a meal: eye appeal, aroma and, of course, enthusiastic response of the taste buds.
The vegetables that I have just finished cutting up surely fulfill the first requirement. They are colorful and attractive. And the chicken broth that Mrs. Ch’en has boiling on the stove is beginning to fulfill the second requirement—the ginger and chicken aroma is delicious! Later, the chicken meat will be shredded and, along with spinach and vermicelli, seasonings and a little wine, will be added to the broth to make our chicken and spinach soup.
The Recipe
Mrs. Ch’en expertly slices mushrooms in readiness for the vegetable dish of fried cabbage and mushrooms. She asks me to cut the one chin (1 1⁄3 pounds) of pork loin into one-inch cubes. Next we mix together 1 1⁄2 tablespoons of rice wine (sherry will do), 2 1⁄2 tablespoons of soy sauce, 2 1⁄2 tablespoons of flour, 1 1⁄2 tablespoons of cornstarch, and then add the pork cubes to these ingredients, coating them thoroughly with the mixture.
Sesame seed oil is already heated and Mrs. Ch’en deep fries the pork to a crisp golden brown. The kitchen is filled with appetizing aromas. We set aside the cooked pork.
Now to make the sweet-sour sauce. We mix 8 tablespoons of sugar, 5 tablespoons of soy sauce, 1 1⁄2 tablespoons of rice wine, 2 1⁄2 tablespoons of vinegar, 5 tablespoons of tomato ketchup. This is the sweet-sour sauce mixture.
The vegetables that I have prepared include 4 peppers cut in quarters and seeded, one medium-size onion quartered, one medium-size carrot cut into small wedges and boiled for 7 to 8 minutes, one bamboo shoot cut into small wedges, 3 slices of pineapple, each quartered. Now all is ready for the final cooking, which requires only a few minutes.
Cooking the Chinese Way
The Chinese cooking pan is about 14 inches in diameter, 5 inches deep and made of fairly thin sheet iron. The rounded bottom concentrates heat, and there are no corners to hinder removal of food or accumulated grease.
Mrs. Ch’en heats about 6 tablespoons of oil in the pan, over a very high flame. The oil must be very hot, to the point of just beginning to give off smoke. Ah, there it is, the smoke! In go the prepared vegetables. How they crackle and hiss as they hit the hot pan! Cooking thus with high temperature preserves the original color, flavor and texture of the food.
If the vegetables start to burn, Mrs. Ch’en advises, do not turn down the flame. Just add a little more oil and stir faster. Color is the guide to doneness. When the greens are crisp and at their brightest green and before they begin to deteriorate into the green-yellows, they are ready. How unpalatable to the Chinese gourmet are overcooked vegetables! But, of course, they should not taste raw either.
Mrs. Ch’en carefully judges the right moment—seconds count—and adds the sweet-sour sauce mixture. It soon boils up and a mixture of 1-1/2 tablespoons of cornstarch and 2/3 cup of water is poured in. She stirs constantly. As the liquid thickens a little, the fried pork is mixed well. There, it is done!
The family, unexperienced with chopsticks, struggling a little but enthusiastic, savor the mouth-watering sweet and sour pork along with heaps of fluffy white rice. The vegetable dish of fried cabbage and mushrooms is also acclaimed as fit for kings. The soup comes last, as is Chinese custom, and complements the other dishes delightfully. As we finally consume the slices of watermelon we are more than ready to compliment and thank Mrs. Ch’en for our savoring the Chinese flavor.