At Home with Chinese Cuisine (27 page)

BOOK: At Home with Chinese Cuisine
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Prawns with LongJing Tea
龍井蝦仁

 

This is a ZheJiang dish that most Chinese will mention when asked about preparing savoury dishes with tea. With a hint of bitterness from the new season LongJing tea picked before the April showers, it is thought to be the perfect dish for the springtime. Coupled with the delicate taste and texture of the small wild stream prawns, this dish is an illustration of the gentle touch that epitomises the southern style of food preparation using ingredients from the water.

 

Folklore associates this dish with Emperor QianLong (1735–1796) of the Qing Dynasty. It was said that he travelled to the West Lake one year during the April showers period. He encountered a sudden downpour and had to escape the rain in a farmhouse. The lady of the house made him a pot of tea using the water from the stream by the house and the LongJing just picked before the rainy season. The emperor was so impressed by the flavour of the tea that he thought to take some with him. Concerned with the possibility he might reveal himself, and being an emperor, he probably did not know how to ask for things – he simply pinched some leaves and kept them in his sleeve when the farmer’s wife was not looking. He bid farewell to the hostess when the rain stopped and continued his sightseeing in the area.

 

By the late afternoon, he felt hungry and found an eatery by the West Lake. He ordered some dishes, and one of them was stir-fried river prawn. He felt thirsty and remembered the tea leaves from the farmhouse. He tried to find the leaves from the sleeve and unwittingly showed a corner of the dragon embroidery exclusively associated with the status of emperor. The waiter caught the sight of it when QianLong handed him the leaves, and he was startled and rushed into the kitchen to tell his boss about the incident. The man was cooking the prawns at that time and fell into a state of panic. Without looking, he threw in some tea leaves given by Emperor QianLong thinking they were the chopped green part of the spring onion.
(He was in a state of panic, all right.) When the waiter rushed the dish to the table, the emperor was so impressed by the flavour that his words of praise soon spread like fire. Back in the palace, imperial chefs were given the task of refining the dish using similar ingredients.

 

After generations of refinement, there remain many different ways of preparing this dish. For the gourmand, the ingredients used that have most influence on the flavour of this dish these days. The ingredients have to be the very best, top quality, new season LongJing tea leaves picked before the April showers, and the small wild prawns should be found in the nearby streams.

 

The LongJing tea leaf can easily be identified by its shape, which is described by tea connoisseurs as flat as a sparrow’s tongue. To appreciate the subtlety of this green tea, one should look for its dry-grass green colour, lingering aroma, a hint of sweet after taste, and pleasing appearance when the leaves open up. To enjoy the best quality tea, you probably need to travel to HangZhou in ZheJiang Province; the local streams and wells near the tea plantations are said to bring out the best flavour of the tea leaves. The concept of terroir applies to tea and the water it steeps in, the same as matching food with wine from the same area.

 

The LongJing tea market is a mysterious one with hype and intrigue similar to other Chinese top-quality tea-leaf markets. The price of the tea is set partly by its quality grading and its annual production. Tea leaves picked before the April showers and at the top tea plantations fetch the highest prices. The price also reflects what the market can bear. It has gone skyrocketing with record prices in recent years. Now that LongJing tea leaves have the geographical indication protection from both Chinese government and the EU, it will be interesting to see how the producers play out in the international market with profit maximization in mind.

 

Tea first appeared as an ingredient for cooking in court cuisine around the time of the Tang Dynasty in the seventh century. Apart from the LongJing tea, there are other top-quality green teas to choose from for cooking. The two that spring to mind are BiLuoChun from DongTing in JiangSu Province and MaoFeng from HuangShan (the Yellow Mountain in Chinese) in AnHui Province. PuEr tea from YunNan Province and BaiHaoYinZhen (also known as White Hair Silver Needle), a white tea from FuJian Province, are also interesting choices. They are available in fine tea shops in the West. Do try them and find the one you enjoy most for drinking and cooking.

 

250 g fresh prawns, shelled

1 T LongJing tea leaves

salt

2 t cornflour mixed with 10 ml water

130 ml cooking oil

ZhenJiang rice vinegar (optional)

2–3 T cornflour (for washing the prawns)

 

For the marinade:

 

2 t LongJing tea

1/3 medium-sized egg white

salt and pepper

1 T cornflour

To prepare shelled prawns for cooking, please see “Shelled prawns” in the Readers’ Guide to Recipes.

 

Mix in 1 T of salt and 1 T of the cornflour with the prawns until they are slightly sticky to touch; rinse them well under the cold water. Repeat the process one or two more times so that the prawns will be whiter in colour when cooked. Rinse them well, pat them dry, and leave them in a bowl. Omit this process if you do not mind the pink colour of the cooked prawns.

 

Boil 60 ml of water and leave it to cool down to around 80°C. Put the LongJing tea in a glass tumbler and pour the water into the glass slowly. Leave them to steep for 5 minutes or so. Taste the tea as an aperitif and see whether you like its strength; you do not want it too strong. Bring a small quantity of tealeaves out and drain, but do not squeeze them dry. They will be used as the garnish later.

 

To marinade the prawns, please see “Marinade (how to)” in the Readers’ Guide to Recipes. Bring the prawns out of the fridge to return to room temperature before cooking.

 

To season the wok before cooking, please see “Wok” in the Readers’ Guide to Recipes. Put the wok back to the heat source and adjust it to a medium-low heat. Add 100 ml of the cooking oil and heat the oil to 100°C. Add the prawns and count to 5 before stirring. Stir gently from time to time until the prawns start to turn pale. Drain the prawns in a colander with a bowl underneath.

 

Heat the wok over a medium heat. Add 30 ml of the LongJing tea and a tiny pinch of salt. Put the prawns back into the wok and stir. Add the cornflour and water mixture and stir to combine with the prawns (less than 15 seconds). Plate the prawns on a warm dish and garnish with tealeaves on top to serve.

 

This dish could be served with ZhenJiang rice vinegar as a dip on the side.

 

Crispy Rice Crusts with Prawns
鍋巴蝦仁

 

This dish was made famous by ChenGuoFu, who was the chairman of the government of JiangSu Province in the 1930s. He was known not just as a gourmand but also as a man in pursuit of a nourishing life from healthy eating. The dish of crispy rice crusts with a pouring sauce that has the surf-and-turf combination of chicken broth and prawns was initially his idea, and he used fresh tomatoes to give the natural redness and the hint of the sweet and sour taste to the sauce. The sizzling sound from the contact between the hot oil absorbed by the deep-fried rice crusts and the hot pouring sauce has given inspiration to the other name of this dish: Thunder over the Horizon.

 

 

This dish is quite unique in that sound plays a prominent part in the sensory stimuli. The sizzling sounds of hot, crispy rice crusts meeting the sauce always attract diners’ attention in anticipation of the texture of the slightly softened rice crusts with the tender prawns, soft chicken, and smooth sauce mingling in the mouth.

 

Crispy rice crust dishes can be found all over China. The better-known classic rice crust dishes in SiChuan cuisine use ingredients such as abalone, sea cucumber, prawns, JinHua ham, chicken, fresh squid, and more; they are the more delicate SiChuan dishes that are not spicy at all. In GuangDong and the neighbouring provinces, the use of ketchup gives the colour of tomato and the sweet and sour taste. Enhanced by white vinegar and sugar, the pouring sauce has a gentle sweet and sour blend of taste. Even the crispy rice crusts dish Mr Chen liked has moved on. The typical JiangSu version one encounters today incorporates shredded chicken meat and ketchup in the pouring sauce, similar to the style from the southern coastal provinces.

 

One folklore about the origin of this dish, was that it started as a rice crust soup with vegetables that was offered to the Qing Emperor KangXi when he sneaked out of the palace in plain clothes one fine day. On that day he was hungry and exhausted after wandering about and enjoying the scenery of plum blossoms. He stopped by a farmhouse and asked for food to ease the hunger late in the day. The country folk did not have much leftovers to offer the unexpected guest. The only thing available was the dried-out rice crust at the bottom of the rice cooker and some leftover vegetable soup. They quickly deep-fried the rice crust and heated the vegetable soup to offer to their guest. The emperor found the food so tasty that he named the dish “The Best Dish There Is”. With the royal seal of approval, the story soon spread, and rice crust soup became widely known. Since then, the idea of using rice crust in food preparation has been taken up by chefs over the generations. The dish continues to evolve with more elaborate ingredients added and tastes adapted.

 

Dried rice crusts are available in supermarkets in China and in oriental or Chinese grocery stores in the West. They have to be deep-fried. By adding cold water over the hot oil during the deep-frying, the crusts will be light and crisp with less likelihood of drying out and going hard.

 

In this recipe, instead of blanching the prawns in water as a common practice, I blanch them in oil. Blanching in oil brings out more sweetness and more vivid colour to the prawns. I omit the chicken meat and use fresh tomatoes instead of the ketchup. I am not sure of the texture of the chicken meat as an ingredient in the sauce, and ketchup is an ingredient I tend to shy away when it is used as a substitute for tomato.

 

100 g dried rice crusts

250 g fresh prawns, shelled

1 spring onion white

400 g fresh medium or large-sized tomatoes

3–4 fresh shiitake mushrooms

a small handful of fresh soya beans

1 T ShauXing wine

30 g granulated sugar

2 T clear/transparent rice vinegar

4 t cornflour mixed with 15 ml water

salt and pepper

300 ml chicken broth or water, heated

1 t sesame seed oil (optional)

cooking oil

 

Marinade for prawns:

 

salt and pepper

1/4–1/3 medium-sized egg white

1 T cornflour

To prepare shelled prawns for cooking, please see “Shelled prawns” in the Readers’ Guide to Recipes. To marinade the prawns, please see “Marinade (how to)” in the Readers’ Guide to Recipes.

 

Blanch the tomatoes in boiling water for 10–15 seconds. Leave them to cool down in cold water. Peel the skin and cut each tomato into 8 segments if it is about the size of a tennis ball. De-seed them if you desire.

 

Clean the shiitake mushrooms, remove the stalk, and cut each of them into 6 or 8 wedges.

 

Cut the spring onion white into 1 cm segments.

 

To prepare the soya beans, leave the beans in the water to defrost; remove the husks and set aside. For fresh ones, blanch the bean in boiling water for about 1 minute; remove the husks and set aside.

 

To season the wok before cooking, please see “Wok” in the Readers’ Guide to Recipes. Put the wok back to the heat source and adjust it to a medium-low heat. Add 100 ml of the cooking oil and heat the oil to 100°C. Add the prawns and count to 5 before stirring. Stir from time to time until the prawns start to turn pink. Drain the prawns in a colander with a bowl underneath.

 

Heat the saucepan until hot over a medium heat. Add 15 ml of the cooking oil. When the oil is hot, add the spring onion white and stir until aromatic. Add tomato segments in and stir for about 30 seconds. Pour the chicken broth in the saucepan and bring it to a gentle boil. Add wine, sugar, and vinegar to the saucepan. Season to taste when the broth comes to a boil. Turn the heat down slightly and add the cornflour and water mixture. Stir to bring to a boil. Check the consistency of the sauce and taste to double-check the seasoning. Turn the heat down to the lowest and stir from time to time while deep-frying the rice crusts.

Heat the oil for deep-frying the rice crusts in a wok over a medium heat or in a deep fryer at 170-180°C. Test the temperature of the oil by inserting a chopstick into it. There should be tiny bubbles wrapped around the chopstick, or the rice crust should float up to the surface of the oil fairly quickly. Turn the crusts continuously until they start to pick up colour. Stay a step or two back from the hob and pour in circular motion about 2 tablespoons of cold water over the oil. When the rice crusts start to turn light golden, bring them out and arrange them in a warm deep dish.

 

Bring the sauce back to a gentle boil. Add the prawns and soya beans and stir. When the sauce returns to a boil, drizzle the sesame seed oil (if used) and stir to mix. Immediately put the dish of rice crusts on the table and pour the sauce over them. The sizzling sound tells the chef’s success in speed and heat control. Serve immediately.

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