Chinese Feasts & Festivals. S. C. Moey
7 oz/200 g), thinly sliced to yield about 1 cup
10 snow peas, tops and tails removed
1 teaspoon cornstarch, dissolved in 1 tablespoon water
Sprigs of coriander leaves (cilantro), to garnish
1 Clean the duck and dry it with paper towels, then sit the duck up on its neck, with its legs up and breast side facing you. To split the duck, hold the duck firmly with one hand and use a sharp cleaver or knife with the other hand to cut through the breastbone and downward along the midpoint until the neck. Use your hands to pull the duck apart, then press both sides of the breast downward to flatten them slightly. Rub the pepper and salt into the underside of the duck.
2 Bring a big pot of water to a boil over high heat. Immerse the duck in the boiling water and boil uncovered for about 10 minutes, skimming off the foam and fat that float to the surface. Remove the duck from the pot and drain until dry. Rub 2 tablespoons of the soy sauce over the entire duck. Reserve 2 cups (500 ml) of the stock from the boiled duck.
3 Heat the oil in a large wok over medium heat and fry the duck for 3 to 5 minutes until browned, turning over once. Remove the duck from the pan and drain on paper towels, then tuck in the wings and tuck the legs into the body. Place the duck in a heatproof casserole dish along with the mushroom, dried scallops, spring onions and ginger. Add the rice wine, remaining soy sauce, sugar (if using) and reserved stock. Steam in a large wok (see page 19) or steamer for about 1½ hours, adding more hot water when the water runs low. Turn off the heat, discard the spring onions and ginger, and transfer the duck to a cutting board. Cut the duck into serving pieces and arrange on a serving platter with the mushroom and scallops.
4 Pour the juices from the duck into a small saucepan. Skim off the excess fat and boil over medium heat until it reduces to about 1½ cups (375 ml). Add the bamboo shoots and snow peas, and boil for 1 more minute. Reduce the heat to low, stir in the cornstarch mixture and mix until the sauce thickens. Remove from the heat and pour the sauce over the duck pieces. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot with steamed rice.
Serves 6 to 8
Preparation time: 30 mins
Cooking time: 1½ to 2 hours
Braised Duck with Yellow Bean Paste
Yellow bean paste is similar to Japanese miso—made from salted, fermented soybeans—and it gives a wonderfully rich flavor to this dish. Taro is a large, brown-skinned root which turns slightly purplish on cooking. Taro with duck is an intriguing combination, popularized by the Hainanese.
1 fresh duck
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
2 tablespoons yellow bean paste (tau cheo)
2 onions, peeled and sliced
4 cloves garlic 1 in (2½ cm) fresh ginger, peeled and sliced
1 tablespoon oil 3½ cups (875 ml) water
1 taro (about 1 lb/500 g), peeled, cut into wedges (optional)
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoon sugar (optional)
1 Clean the duck, removing any fatty bits, then dry and cut it into serving pieces.
2 Grind the peppercorns in a peppermill or mortar until fine, then combine with the bean paste, onion, garlic and ginger, and grind to a smooth paste. Transfer to a bowl and set aside.
3 Heat the oil in a wok over medium heat and stir-fry the ground ingredients until fragrant, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the duck pieces and stir-fry for another 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in the water, increase the heat to high and bring the mixture to a boil, then cover and simmer for 1 to 1½ hours. Reduce the heat to medium, add the taro, mix well and simmer covered for about 30 minutes until tender. Finally, season with the salt and sugar, remove from the heat and transfer to a serving bowl.
4 As duck releases a large amount of fat during cooking, skim this off from the dish before serving. Serve the dish hot with steamed rice.
Serves 6 to 8
Preparation time: 45 mins
Cooking time: 1½ hours
Meat Recipes
For millions of Chinese battling constantly with shortages, meat on the table has always been a sign of better times. When there is a reason to feast, adequate is not nearly good enough. Abundance—if one has the means to afford it—is better, symbolizing luck and good fortune.
In Chinese festival cooking, pork, mutton and beef are all used, but pork is the celebratory meat: the nourishment of gods, favored by man, and coveted by spirits. Whole roast pigs are standard offerings at clan gatherings, weddings and thanksgiving celebrations. According to some provincial customs, they are also obligatory at funerals. When the festivities are over, the meat is carved up and distributed. Friends and relatives in attendance can look forward to taking “a piece of luck” home and sharing it with their families. At home, where such excesses are not possible or even practical during festival times, the gods understandingly exact no more than a modest joint of roast pork as appeasement.
Feasting on roast pigs at weddings and funerals was a custom of the Manchurian people. At such functions, the piece de resistance—a whole cooked pig—was placed on a red carpet on the floor. Guests armed with knives sat around the pig and helped themselves to whichever part took their fancy. When the Manchus ruled China during the Qing Dynasty, imperial approval raised the boar’s esteem to new heights. Every day at the imperial palace, two pigs were cooked to venerate the gods. During the Chinese New Year, the emperor himself would present the offerings. When the ceremony was over, the meat was distributed among his retainers. Those who performed well during the year were assured of a portion.
While pork owed much of its popularity to the Qing potentates, mutton was a legacy of the Mongols. Lamb was brought into China by these invaders from the desert interior, the founders of the Yuan Dynasty. But the Chinese soon discovered new ways to cook the meat. It is used in much the same way as beef, treated with ginger and spring onions to transform the strong flavor characteristic of red meats to one of subtlety, much preferred by the Chinese. Pot roasts and stir-fries are popular methods of cooking. Another favorite style is fondue—steamboat or firepot is also used to describe this mode of eating—where thin slices of meat are dipped into boiling stock together with other items, including vegetables. Beef and mutton, however, do not add up to ambrosia. Though regularly served at the festive table, particularly in the northern and interior provinces, they are food for the enjoyment of man and need not be offered to the gods, a sign of their “foreign” origins.
Roast Pork
Although it is not difficult, Chinese housewives rarely prepare roast pork at home, as it is so readily available. Everyone has her favorite roast pork vendor, and he can be found anywhere: in the marketplace or a neighborhood food shop. Frequently, such vendors have a whole roast pig to carve from, to the satisfaction of their customers. Gods take the meat plain but man may need a dash of soy, oyster or hoisin sauce to enhance the meat.
2½ lbs (1 kg) pork belly with skin left on, cleaned and dried
Sprigs of coriander leaves (cilantro), to garnish
Soy sauce, oyster sauce or hoisin sauce, to serve
SEASONING A
2 teaspoons five spice powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 clove garlic, finely minced
2 teaspoons minced coriander leaves (cilantro)
½ teaspoon sugar
SEASONING