1,000 Foods To Eat Before You Die: A Food Lover's Life List (199 page)

Most bird’s nest aficionados agree that the flavor of the nest itself is actually quite bland. For this reason the nests are never eaten on their own, but are instead carefully cleaned, soaked in water for several hours, and then simmered in chicken broth; usually a little ginger, an egg, and slivers of Yunnan ham are added to the soup for flavor. A less-common, sweet preparation involves cooking the nests with sugar into a sweet dessert soup. In both cases, it is the texture of the melted nests, a kind of gelatinous noodle that makes the whole mix quite viscous, that is the desired result.

The Chinese ascribe many medicinal benefits to the nests, including skin-saving and anti-aging properties, and as such their reputation as delicacies is only further enhanced. They are also said to be an aphrodisiac and a great source of virility, which does nothing to hurt their lore, either. Although the soup is invariably discussed alongside and compared to shark’s fin soup, another ancient Chinese delicacy, bird’s nest has the benefit of being prepared without attendant moral or ethical issues, yet another of its exotic charms.

Where:
In Hong Kong
, Man Wah, tel 852/2522-0111;
mandarinoriental.com
;
in New York
, Oriental Garden, tel 212-619-0085,
orientalgardenny.com
;
in Daly City, CA
, Koi Palace,
koipalace.com
.
Further information and recipes:
Extreme Cuisine: The Weird & Wonderful Foods That People Eat
by Jerry Hopkins (2004);
The Thousand Recipe Chinese Cookbook
by Gloria Bley Miller (1984);
food.com
(search bird’s nest soup);
youtube.com
(search traditional bird’s nest soup).
Tip:
Nests may be bought in Asian groceries and specialty Chinese markets; they are often stored under lock and key, but they aren’t particularly hard to find.

Making the air-dried ham is an all-consuming enterprise.

A southwestern region that borders Laos, Myanmar, Tibet, and Vietnam, the Yunnan province of China is home to a unique cuisine known for its pronounced spicy heat as well as the influence of its Southeast Asian neighbors
and its large ethnic minority population. The region itself is prized for its natural resources, especially its tropical flora. But its most famous food is its ham, a dry-cured, dense, and salty treat revered the world over but, alas, not cleared for import to the United States.

That’s too bad, as Yunnan ham, produced in the region for close to three hundred years, is considered a paragon of umami, the elusive fifth taste most often described as savory, and much talked about these days. The ham is often favorably compared with Spain’s Jabugo ham (see
listing
)—also banned in the U.S., until quite recently—and the salt-cured country hams produced in the southern U.S., especially the Smithfield brand. Like those specialty hams, Yunnan’s are deeply flavorful haunches—very lean, mahogany red, smoky, and intense—that are produced following secret, closely guarded processes.

As with so many famous hams, the magic has a lot to do with the hog itself, a small, wild-foraging breed raised only in the Yunnan and neighboring Sichuan provinces and so far unable to thrive elsewhere. Curing the ham is a time-honored affair that requires an exacting procedure, with many months of salting and curing needed to create the exact right hue (brick red), texture (dry but not leathery), and aroma (pungent and meaty). The results are prized above all others in China, and are sold by top grocers there either whole (usually complete with leg and hoof) or in paper-thin slices. Yunnan ham is considered a necessity for top-quality, rich stock, and it’s featured in many classic Chinese special-occasion soups, including, bird’s nest (see
listing
), and winter melon (see
listing
). It adds an extra savory layer to braised duck and chicken dishes, and the Chinese also eat it steamed with a honey glaze, much like an American honey-baked ham.

Mail order:
For the closest U.S. substitute, Smithfield Marketplace, tel 888-741-2221,
smithfieldmarketplace.com
(search genuine smithfield ham).
Further information and recipes:
Hot Sour Salty Sweet
by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid (2000);
The Thousand Recipe Chinese Cookbook
by Gloria Bley Miller (1984);
chinesefood.about.com
(search yunnan ham).
See also:
York Ham
,
Jabugo ham
.

Made from the fat, tuberous stems of the mustard green plant,
zha cai
is a cold dish with a hot flavor—a zesty addition to fried rice, soups, and tofu dishes, and a key component of classic Sichuan dan dan noodles (see
listing
) that is
prized for its sweet-tart tanginess. Salted, pressed, dried, rubbed with hot red chile paste, and fermented in earthenware jars, the pale, silky slivers enliven the palate and add crunchy texture to a range of spice-rich traditional Sichuan dishes. Like other fermented foods, including its cousins sauerkraut and kimchi (see listings
here
and
here
), zha cai is claimed to be very healthful, with abundant vitamin C and probiotics, the so-called friendly bacteria that are major digestive aids and possibly even immune-system boosters. Regardless of its health benefits, it is one of the region’s signature and most distinctive pleasures.

Making zha cai from scratch is very tricky under the best of circumstances—finding the right kind of mustard stem poses the first challenge—so even accomplished Chinese cooks prefer to buy it ready-made. Fortunately, that means it is widely sold in Asian grocery stores and can easily be found outside its home countries. Delicious with meats, it provides an easy way to enliven simple dishes and deserves to be seen on menus everywhere, even in places where it does not customarily belong.

Mail order:
amazon.com (search zha cai).
Further information and recipes:
The Thousand Recipe Chinese Cookbook
by Gloria Bley Miller (1984);
Susanna Foo Chinese Cuisine
by Susanna Foo (2002);
foodandwine.com
(search sichuan pickled cucumbers);
epicurious.com
(search pickled vegetables david chang).
Tip:
Look for it in Asian groceries, in cans or pouches marked “Sichuan Preserved Vegetable.” Top brands include May Ling, Tang Meng, and Bright Pearl.

A camphor-and tea-smoked delicacy.

It almost seems as though one could sample a thousand different Chinese duck dishes, so numerous and delectable are recipes for that crisp-skinned poultry. Each province has its own version, with Beijing’s ingenious Peking duck (see
listing
) being perhaps the most famous. The southwestern Sichuan province, however, known for the fiery chiles and the unique Sichuan pepper that enflame its typical dishes, is capable of more complex pleasures. Among them is a duck that is smoked in a wok over camphor leaves and twigs along with dry tea leaves, resulting in a bird with golden-brown crackling skin, moist meat, and an aroma and flavor that are at once sweetly mellow, antique, and earthy.

Before it is smoked, the whole duck is marinated in a mix of ground star anise, citrusy Sichuan pepper, ginger, garlic, and rice wine or dry sherry, then hung to dry for several hours until the skin is thin and taut. But that is only step one: Then comes blanching the duck in boiling water or steaming it over a wok, smoking it, and finally, deep-frying it in vegetable oil. Chopped into succulent chunks—bones, skin, and all—the duck is dipped into a mix of vinegar and soy sauce as it is eaten.

Often tea-smoked duck is served with the same sort of tiny, puffy, scallion-flecked, yeast-raised buns—
hua juan
, or “flower buns”—that are used to sandwich slices of Peking duck. Because camphor is not always easy to come by, the duck is sometimes smoked over black
tea leaves alone, which has a lovely and sweet, aromatic effect, although it lacks the wildly exotic contrast imparted by the faintly musty essence of camphor. (For some cooks, the tea-only version is preferable, as it produces none of the potent camphor fumes.)

Subtle distractions aside, the dish, with its many steps and long list of ingredients, is generally reserved for banquets and celebrations—which means that if you see it on a menu, you should leap at the chance to try it.

Where:
In New York
, Wu Liang Ye, tel 212-398-2308,
wuliangyenyc.com
;
in Chicago
, Yan Bang Cai, tel 312-842-7818,
yanbangcaichicago.com
;
in Richmond, VA
, Peter Chang’s China Café, tel 804-364-1688,
peterchangsrva.com
.
Mail order:
For rohan duck, D’Artagnan, tel 800-327-8246,
dartagnan.com
; for black tea, The Republic of Tea, tel 800-298-4832,
republicoftea.com
; The Chinese Tea Shop, tel 604-633-1322,
thechineseteashop.com
.
Further information and recipes:
Mrs. Chiang’s Szechwan Cookbook
by Jung-Feng Chiang with Ellen Schrecker and John Schrecker (1987);
Henry Chung’s Hunan Style Chinese Cookbook
by Henry Chung (1978);
foodnetwork.com
(search tea smoked duck);
saveur.com
(search tea smoked duck);
nymag.com
(search tea smoked duck).

A five-course meal in a box.

A thoroughly modern concept that in fact dates back about four hundred years, to the Edo period, the Japanese
bento
box offers a perfectly balanced, delightful meal in a portable container. Although it may be eaten at a restaurant, bento is meant as a sort of picnic, presented in wood or plastic or, at its most elegant, in gleaming lacquered boxes divided to hold an array of small bites. It may contain a few rice cakes bound with nori (dried seaweed), perhaps a small, pink slice of fish cake, a shrimp or steamed crayfish, a rainbow of pickled vegetables and plums, and perhaps a nugget of sweet glazed chicken. All are designed to keep and transport well and to be eaten at room temperature. When sold to go in Japan, whether in upscale shops or from carts on a train, each box (called
ekiben
if purchased on a train) is marked with the time it was packed, and may be sold for only up to four hours after preparation. Bento boxes are also sometimes prepared at home by those with the time and inclination to make a particularly delectable—if painstaking—lunch for themselves or their family.