Kashgar Naan

Fresh-baked bread.  Three simple words that conjure up a host of wonderful sensations. The aroma of the bread. How it rises and turns first a golden, then a tawny color as it bakes.  The crackle of the crust and the feel of the warm bread on your hands as you tear off a piece.  The soft texture in your mouth . . . and the flavor!  It’s earthy, a bit sour and sweet at the same time, a little savory. . . Nothing beats it (well, almost nothing, anyway).

Now imagine you are in far-western China and you are experiencing all of these sensations, but you are in a small café on a dusty sideroad to the Karakorum Highway.  Welcome to my world.  But, it gets better.  On the table there is a small bowl of black tea brewed to perfection with fragrant rosepetals floating on the surface.  Plates are piled high with a pilaf of rice and lamb joints with julienned carrots or perhaps some lagman noodles with vegetables.  You sit on an ornate wool carpet of crimson and white design around a low, square table and chat with your dining companions or just silently enjoy the wonderful meal in front of you.

Milling with the sounds and sites of this dusty town (Opal, China) is the unmistakable aroma of freshly made bread.  Next to the café, a husband and wife team are busy making the next order of naan to sell at their stall and to sell to nearby restaurants.

Making naan: Rolling out the dough

The woman pounds and rolls out the balls of dough into plate-size flatbreads.  The dough is usually a plain naan like the recipe below, but it could also have lamb fat worked into the dough or minced onions or even ground seeds like fennel for mildly spiced bread.  Most of the time a durham wheat flour is used, but the Uzbekis sometimes use a chickpea flour as well.  After she has formed the naan, she stamps spiral designs on them with her chekish or stamper.  The stamper, although utilitarian, is a work of art unto itself.  It is handmade by the local craftsman of hardwood decorated with marquetry inlay.  The metal teeth are hand-sharpened and easily double as a defensive weapon in close combat.  When she is done, she hands the bread to her husband, or piles them nearby.

Making naan: Topping and Placing bread in the oven.

He puts sesame seeds and a bit of salt on the bread and tamps it down lightly.  The toppings for bread can be diverse, sesame and poppy are probably the most commonly seen, although on the most recent trip to China, I encountered naan with pounded peanuts on top at a vendor near the Turpan train station.  In Uzbekistan they like onions with fennel or anise seed, in Afghanistan the toppings are probably going to be caraway or black cumin or sesame – so the flavor can vary quite a bit.  The husband sizes and shapes the bread by placing it on the outside of a mold or clean pan and then slaps the bread onto the wall of the tandoor-style oven.  The natural moisture of the bread adheres it to the wall.

In a few minutes – given the high temperature of the oven – they are done, he stacks them to cool or sells them hot to eagerly waiting customers.

This is how much of the world eats.  Flatbread and tea with or without some sort of dairy in it (from a cow, sheep, horse or yak), or flatbread with bits of roasted fat-tailed mutton  or other meat or sweetbread wrapped inside.  Simple, delicious and nutritious.

Naan baking in the oven

The recipe below will help you get into the flatbread groove.  Others are available in The Silk Road Gourmet Volume 1 and more will be included in the second volume of the book. (Words, photos and recipe by Laura Kelley).

Kashgar Naan

Similar to many Uzbek recipes, this flatbread is baked in a stone tandoor, the stove of the region, which is sometimes buried in the ground. As with naan and bread recipes from Volume 1 of The Silk Road Gourmet, it is possible to use an all-metal wok turned upside down in the oven as a surface to “slap” dough on. Likewise, one can use the recommended method of baking on ungreased baking sheets for a delicious taste of Kashgar.

1 ½ cups warm water
1 package dry, active yeast
1 tablespoon sugar
4 cups flour
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon sesame and poppy seeds (or other topping)

1. Mix warm water, yeast, and sugar together and set aside to activate for about 10 minutes. Add 1 teaspoon of flour to the yeast mixture, mix well, and set aside for another 5 minutes.

2. Add remaining flour to a large mixing bowl, indent the center to form a well, and add the yeast mixture to the flour and mix well. When mixed enough to handle with your hands, knead the dough for about 5 minutes and then place it back in the bowl, cover, and let rest for 1–1 ½ hours. For softer bread, less prone to crackle, let rest an additional 20-25 minutes.

3. Punch down the dough, divide into 8 equal parts, and roll each part into a ball. Shape each ball into a circle about the size of a large dinner plate: about 8 inches in diameter and ½-inch thick. Take a fork and lightly trace lines or crisscrosses (or use a chekish (stamper) if you have one). Sprinkle with sesame and/or poppy seeds and press lightly onto surface. Place on ungreased cookie sheet or slap onto heated, all-metal wok inside a traditional oven preheated to 350°. Cook for 10 minutes and turn for even cooking. Total cooking time about 15 – 20 minutes.

Silk Road “Muslim-Grilled” Steak

This is a dish that is served all over China. In the east and southeast it is called “Muslim Grilled” and in the west and northwest it is just called “steak” or “beef”. Tender meat rubbed with onion and garlic or given a light coat of the ground vegetables mingles with crushed cumin and black cumin along with lots of black pepper, some Szechuan pepper and just a hint of ground chillies to push it over the edge. Voila – the center of a fantastic omnivore meal. It is also super simple and quick – fitting in with a long day of work and commuting and can be cooked on a inside broiler or outside over coals or on a gas grill. Since I’ve reconstructed it, it has become an instant family favorite – even with the kids. I get shouts of Yaaaay! when I tell them this is on the night’s menu.

Chinese “Muslim-Grilled” Steak

I usually crack or only coarsely grind the peppers and cumins for a more rustic coating that is just short of a crust.

If you are a bit “spice shy” you can only coat one side, but if you are a lover of robust, full flavors, coat both sides and the edges as well. The coating also works with pork or lamb, but I think that this particular spice mixture is best on beef. Favorite ways to serve it are either with the Indian Ginger Potatoes or the Pakistani Tamarind Potatoes from Volume One of the Silk Road Gourmet, but a hearty Roasted Pine Nut and Garlic Pilaf works really well too and offsets the spiced steak nicely.

Chinese “Muslim-Grilled” Steak

1.5 -2 pounds of Beef steaks (to serve 4)
Onion and garlic, peeled and chopped (for rubbing), or
½ teaspoon ground onion powder, and
½ teaspoon ground garlic powder
1 – 1½ teaspoons coarse sea salt
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
2-3 teaspoons black cumin seeds
2 teaspoons black peppercorns
1 – 1½ teaspoons Szechuan peppercorns
¼ – ½ teaspoon ground red chili peppers

Salt both sides of the steaks and set aside as you grind the spices. In one mortar, combine the cumin and the black cumin and grind by hand until the seeds are coarsely ground. In a separate mortar, grind the black peppercorns until coarsely ground.

If rubbing the steak, rub both sides vigorously with the onion and garlic and set aside. If using the ground onion and garlic powders, coat one side with half of the powders and let sit for a few minutes. Then proceed to coat one side of the steak with half of the ground cumin mixture. Press lightly into the meat before proceeding to the pepper.

Next, press half of the peppercorns into the meat and set aside. Grind the Szechuan peppercorns until finely ground and coat the steaks with half of the powder. Lastly, add the ground chili powder to the steaks and let sit for at least 15 minutes for the spices to flavor the meat.

Flip the steaks carefully and if using the powdered onion and garlic coat this side with the remaining mixture and let sit for a few minutes. Then press in the cumin mixture, wait a few minutes before adding the crack black pepper and then the ground Szechuan pepper and chili powder.

Grill over high flame for no more than 5-6 minutes per side for medium-cooked meat. Flip gently or the cracked spices may fly off to the detriment of the flavor. When cooked to desired state, remove from flame, plate and let rest for 5-6 minutes before serving to let the meat’s juices well up as the meat cools.

Pairs well with a hearty Georgian Mukuzani or a mild Chinese red depending on your point of view. . .

Riding Down the Karakorum Highway

I arrived in Kashgar after a nearly three-day trip from DC with a layover and shower in Urumqi lasting only a few hours.  I was met at the airport by a couple of wonderful Uyghur guys from Kashgar Guide/Xinjiang Travel who whisked me straight out of the city and onto the Karakorum Highway for a bit of adventure.  Dust swirled as we sped southwest on the highway past blooming apricot trees and swaths of wheat sprouting bright green amid the sand and clay.  We stopped in Opal to buy food for a picnic and found fresh naan and lamb kebabs as well as a gorgeous seletion of fresh fruit.  We packed it all up for a lunch at Karakol Lake and started out again. We continued for a way on the dusty plain, but soon the mountains were looming up on the left. They rose higher and higher until they formed a massive snow-capped wall in front of us.

Karakorum Highway

As we began to make our way through the Karakorum Range through the Ghez River Valley, the mountains rose higher and higher until some of the peaks topped 8000 meters in height. The land around me was like a living geological textbook – with some of the best examples of uplift and water erosion I’ve ever seen. The strata in most cases can be read like a book. It is not a fertile place. It is dry and forbidding this time of the year. Many of the lakes and streams were low or dry, but I was told that was becasue the snows on the mountaintops hadn’t melted yet. Then water is plentiful and the plains flood and the rivers roar with clean water from on high. Everywhere, domesticated yaks and camels graze freely on the sparse dried vegetation they can find amongst the dry rocks and gravel.

Mighty Muztagh

We were told by some Tajik herdsmen that in this area they only make Yak dairy in September and October becasue the pasture is so poor before the melted snow comes. They leave the milk for the young at this difficult time until the young yak are fully able to graze on their own.

Herd of Grazing Yak

After we left the Ghez Valley the road turned south again and continued to rise in altitude. As we left the mountains we entered into a valley of some of the most splendidly desolate scenery I have ever seen. The Pamir foothills rose on the right. Great cloud banks moved over head casting deep shadows over the land below and my head was full of Steve Reich marimbas and the whistle of cool Spring wind.

Splendid Desolation in the Pamirs

We met a mixed group of Tajik and Kyrgyz traders camped by the roadside selling amber goods ranging from necklaces to scorpions embedded in the harded sap. The tall Kyrgyz trader haltingly told me in English that he would give me the hat off his head – so I bought it. I saw him on the return journey with a new hat, so apparently that is part of his sales routine. So many hats so few tourists.

Tajik and Kyrgyz Traders

We finally stopped for lunch at Karakol Lake and dined on the naan and kebabs as well as the most sweet small oranges I’ve ever had, and fantastic local pears. The fat from the lamb flavored the naan perfectly and the pears were crisp and sweet and juicy with firm texture and would, I think, make good cooking pears. We wanted to make Tashkorgan before dark and walked around only briefly. I was not yet adjusting well to the altitude – we were already approching 4,000 meters – so the briefest of walks was fine with me.

Yurts near Lake Karakol

Tashkorgan gets its name from the ancient Stone Fortress on the outskirts of the city. The ruined fort, which is the ancient capitol of the Tajik people, was inhabited more than 2000 years ago as part of the kingdom of Puli. The capital and surrounding encampments were at their most powerful between the 7th and the 10th Centuries ACE. Then began a period of war and decline that lasted form more than 100 years until the city was a shadow of its former self. When the Mongols conquered, the city was sacked and destroyed. Its odd though, the modern city of Tashkorgan still has a lot of Tajiks living permanently there as if standing guard over the ruins of their lost city. This population swells seasonally with the influx of other semi-nomadic Tajiks as well.

Kids in Tashkorgan

We walked around the modern city first and came upon a small market on a side street. They had the most delicious looking roasted chickens coated with chili peppers and sesame seeds – spicy and earthy at the same time. I bought several different types of chilis – each one more powerful than the next. The kids were everywhere and unlike in the States, they roamed freely through the streets. They are gorgeous and looked like they could be from anywhere in the northern hemisphere – other than China and Eastern Asia.

The Stone Fortress

My guide, Hasan, and I climbed up to the great fortress and sat on top overlooking the deserted plain below. The fort is surrounded on three sides by mountains and opens on the east to the Taklamakan desert. Turning away from the modern city which lay nearby, the rest of the landscape is today exactly as it was when the Stone Fortress was bustling with life and love and trade. Ancient ammunition still littered the ground. Now and again we spied a perfectly rounded stone a bit larger than the rest that was used with a slingshot in defense of the realm. We sat for a long time as the sun started to fade. The silence was broken only by the tittering of an eagle in the distance like an echo out of the past. (Words and photos by Laura Kelley)

Teaism: A Chinese Tea Ceremony

We drink tea to relax, to socialize, to mark important events in our lives, to apologize, for an energy booster, for our health, and to honor a valued guest.  The Doctor even requires it to repair his beloved, malfunctioning TARDIS.  Tea is so ubiquitous a drink in our world that to NOT offer a cup in some places is considered very bad manners.  It is common, and yet tea ceremonies abound celebrating its properties and use.  It is Asian in origin, and yet it has been adopted and enjoyed by most of the world. It is a simple drink that has over the years become entwined with some complex philosophy.  Above all, for our purposes, the history of tea is entwined with the history of the Silk Road.

Chrysanthemum Tea in Bloom

On our recent trip to China, we had the opportunity to enjoy a tea ceremony and sample a wide variety of different teas. More of a learning experience than a formal ceremony, our tea guide explained the importance of fragrance, the many and varied ways that teas are processed and the qualities that Chinese medicine ascribes to different teas. Then we learned how the first few quick steepings of tea were poured out over the cups and pot to wash the tea and clean and warm the cups.  Different teas are best steeped in waters of different temperature and green tea needs only steep for 1-2 minutes while other teas require longer time to coax the full flavor out of them. Some teas like high quality oolongs cane be steeped multiple times and some feel that their flavor improves with age. Some of the teas sampled were:

1.   Yang Tea.  It comes from a mountain rich in selenium which is a powerful antioxidant and in Chinese medicine is believed to be good for the mind and liver function and for preventing diseases of the spleen and kidneys.  This tea contains 20 times more selenium than other teas.

2.  Pu’er Tea.  This tea has a distinctively earthy flavor which gets better and smoother as it ages.  This tea is thought to detoxify the liver and relieving constipation.  It is also said to be good for losing weight because of the microorganisms that help ferment the tea also help to speed digestion.

Tea Ceremony – Xian

3. Ku Ding Tea.  This tea is brewed with only one leaf per cup and still imparts one of the strongest flavors of all teas.  It is believed to lower blood pressure and reduce congestion in the blood vessels thereby reducing the risk of stroke and heart disease.  It is also thought to be beneficial in preventing or mitigating diabetes.

4. Jasmine Tea.  This is a mixture of high quality green tea and jasmine flowers.  It can relieve headaches and improve digestion and even improve complexions when the strained tea leaves are used as a facial mask.

5. Gingseng Oolong Tea.  This tea is mixed with powdered gingseng root and is said to enhance immunity and increase vitality.  Some also drink it for the sweet taste it leaves in the mouth and throat that is similar to licorice.

6. Lychee Black Tea.  Powdered lychee fruits from China’s tropical areas are mixed with tea to make a sweet and flavorful tea that is said to be good for the skin.

7. Dragon Well Tea. This tea tastes like roasted hazlenuts and is enjoyed all over China for its memory enhancing properties and the ability for it to lift one’s spirits. It is said to detoxify the blood, increase metabolism, and reduce the harm caused by free-radicals.

8. Da Hong Pao. Also called rock tea because of how it is planted in and near rocks to enhance the growth of the plant and the flavor of the tea. It has the aroma and flavor of smoked wood which is used during tea processing. It is said to relieve abdominal distention and quenches thirst.

Chrysanthemum Tea Pods

9. Chrysanthemum Tea.  This flower tea is good for the throat and is said to lower the body’s inner heat and improving balance.  It is believed to reduce oral cavities and gingivitis.

10. An Xi Ti Guan Yin Tea.  This tea has the gentle fragrance of fresh orchids and green grass and is good for relaxation and increasing calm.  It is rich in vitamins E and C and the is believed to improve vision, reduce body weight and promote longevity.

11.  White Tea.  Made from immature tea leaves picked just before the buds have fully opened, this tea takes its name from the silver fuzz covering the buds that turns white as it dries.  High in antioxidants and immunity-boosting phytochemicals, this tea is an excellent adaptogen.

My favorite teas from a flavor point-of-view are Pu’er and Dragon Well tea, although the aroma of the floral teas and the sight of them opening in the water is really lovely. In general, there is a lot of beauty in tea. For me, that is part of the pleasure and part of the problem. I can’t bring myself to break up the compressed Pu’er bricks with pictures of horses and tigers to brew and instead have them hanging around the house from red knotted cords.

When the chrysanthemum blooms in the water, I don’t want to drink the tea to have it become a soggy sponge at the bottom of the glass – I want to appreciate the bouyant bloom forever.  For millenia, chrysanthemums have been the last natural flowers to bloom each year in most of Eurasia before the chill of winter descends. At my age, it is no wonder I am hesitant for the flower to fade.

Of course, this reluctance to destroy beauty is but a limitation caused by my attachment to the object (beautiful tea bricks) and to the aesthetics of the beverage as a culinary creation.  Haven’t you ever seen a dish presented so beautifully that you found it difficult to take that first bite?  Drinking a cup of chrysanthemum tea is a bit like that for me.  Well, if attachment is the problem, then more tao . . . I mean more tea is the answer.

(Words by Laura Kelley. Photos of Chrysanthemum Tea in Bloom by © | Dreamstime.com; photo of Tea Ceremony – Xian by Laura Kelley; and the photo of the Chrysanthemum tea Pods by © | Dreamstime.com.)

(For tea-lovers who find themselves in Washington, DC, I recommend the tea house  – Teaism – originally in Penn Quarter and now also in Dupont Circle and Lafayette Park neighborhoods.)

(For post about the Burmese origins of tea – click here.)

New Year, New Day

Old Man Practicing Calligraphy

The large brush laden with water is drawn from the bucket by the old, steady hand and moved in deliberate strokes across the pavement.  One stroke, two, three or more until the complete character develops.  Luminous lines, black on grey stone he moves onto the next character.  The words from the ancient Tang poem begin to take shape.  Even in the afternoon sun it is bone cold, but he keeps on writing.  Before he reaches the end of the stanza, the first characters have begun to fade.  When he comes to the end, more than half the poem is gone – leaving no trace.

All across China, one finds elderly men practicing calligraphy in this way.  In parks, on sidewalks in big cities and small towns, men armed with a bucket and a long brush incessantly trace out words from times long past.  Old poems, classical tales, and bits of history they learned as young boys or men – words flowing out of their brushes and fading almost as quickly as they were born again.

They say they do this to keep their minds sharp and hands strong.  Lately, I have been contemplating the spiritual or cathartic value of producing such transient and beautiful art with personal subjects.  It could be so liberating!  Because it is a public expression, sharing and communicating the experience stops it from being bottled up inside.  As the words fade, so do one’s attachment to the events or people that formed the basis of your composition.  Calligraphy therapy.

At this time of the New Year when we often contemplate our lives and make adjustments to try to live better or healthier, be kinder, more patient, less greedy etc., I thought that this image and concept might be useful to some of you.

Years ago, in graduate school I employed a sort of food-based catharsis with alphabet soup.  I’d spell the name of the person or thing out on the rim of the bowl and eat it last after all the soup was gone, chewing each letter slowly to make sure it was gone completely and would trouble me no more.  Not the most tasty way to eat soup, but a satisfying one if someone or something is vexing you. (Words by Laura Kelley; Photo of Old Man Practicing Calligraphy by Chen Po Chuan @ Dreamstime.com).

Goose Fire Pot on a Wintry Day

I love to eat hot soups and stews to chase away the chill of a cold day.  Asian soups are wonderful for this purpose.  From Korean Doenjang Jjiggae to Central Asian Shurpa, Asian soups are hearty, delicious and offer unusual flavor combinations for warding off winter weather.  The Chinese have a dish that is an intermediary between a soup and a stew for warding off the cold called a firepot.  I got to enjoy a northern firepot recently in the countryside northwest of Beijing, on the way to Badaling, and can attest that it is a tasty way to keep warm.

Goose Fire Pot

Briefly a firepot is a metal pot of one shape or another with broth in it, into which you cook meat, vegetables, tofu, noodles and sometimes an egg.  Sometimes pots are communal, other times they are individual or shared between two or three diners.  Traditionally, they were heated with charcoal, but today the most common form of heating is from propane, which provides a steady, constant heat.  You can enjoy the ingredients one or two at a time with rice and a couple of sauces or wait until the ingredients have melded into a rich dish.  Firepots can be flavorful and spicy as they often are in the South and West or mild and salty as they often are in the North and East.

The dish is of Northern origin, arising in Northern China, Mongolia and Manchuria and spreading to the rest of the country from there. Formal histories site the spread across northern China by the time of the Tang Dynasty (618-906 ACE), and then on to the rest of the Empire. Beyond China, the dish has been adopted and adapted from Japan and Korea to Vietnam and Thailand.

The day we ventured out of the city toward Badaling was a typical late autumn day – very cold and dry. After leaving the city, the smog began to clear and the highway sliced through uplifted mountains dotted with pines and evergreens that looked like a geological textbook with the layers of history laid bare. Soon enough the blanket of pines thinned as the vegetation became scrubbier and the soil more beige. The shaggy auburn coats of working Bactrian camels dotted the dirt road that flowed beside the modern highway and the colorful clothes of citydwellers gave way to the simple rural uniform of black pants and indigo jackets that were easily spotted against the pale landscape.

Great Wall – Badaling

The area just south of Badaling is one of China’s areas renowned for goose farming. As some of you may already know, China leads the world in the number of geese and ducks it brings to market each year. It produces more than two-thirds of the world’s birds. What the area around Badaling specializes in is goose-liver production – the bulk of which is destined for markets and restaurants in France and western Europe. Subsequently, goose meat is inexpensive and commonly consumed in the area. This is where we enjoyed our Goose Firepot. The windows of the simple rural restaurant were steamed up because of the amount of boiling broth at the tables inside.

The broth in our individual firepots was a salty chicken broth which I quickly threw some crushed ginger and garlic into to boost the flavor. The greens offered were a mix of mustard and radish greens, lettuce and spinach. Also on our plates were tree-ear mushrooms, tofu, radish noodles and an egg. The goosemeat was thinly sliced like low-sodium bacon and had a dusky, rich flavor that I love. The dipping sauce was made of crushed sesame seeds mixed with sesame oil, water, a chili or two and a bit of soy – sort of like a watery tahini.  I enjoyed everything except the thick radish noodle.  My dislike was largely becasue of the size and slimy consistency of the noodle. If they were thinly sliced, I don’t think that it woudl have been a problem.

I tried the firepot both ways – one by one with rice and sesame sauce, and as a bit more of a soup. Of the two, I preferred the former, mostly because the salty chicken broth left a bit to be desired, and I had nothing on hand to flavor it with. I chose to boil the egg whole and eat it sliced as part of the meal, but others swirled it into the soup to create texture. It was a wonderful lunch and warmed me for the steep hike up the Badaling wall to view that followed.

We were told by our guide that there were two ways up the wall – the hard way and the harder way.  We chose the harder way, becasue it was much less crowded and seemed more peaceful.  Our kids ran all the way up and on to the barbed-wired end while we took in the sights with slower stride. The wall is very steep in places and one needs to grab on to the edge for balance going up and coming down.  My husband and I paused on the watchtowers to take in the surrounding landscape and gorgeous desolation and listen to the echo of the hooves of the Mongol horses rallying at the gate. Our only company was a talkative magpie and a few travelers continuing on.  (Words and photos by Laura Kelley).

Peking Duck in Beijing

Crisp, amber skin atop moist, flavorful dusky meat all carved and rolled into parchment-like pancakes and brushed with sweet bean or hoisin sauce: Peking Duck is perhaps the dish we most often think of when imagining Chinese cuisine.  It is listed in brochures and books as being the “must-have” dish for travelers to Beijing, where preparing it is still considered an artform. 

Peking Duck (Ba Ye Duck) Dinner

 I grew up seeing rows of delectable cooked ducks hung on hooks in the front windows of food shops and restaurants in New York City’s Chinatown.  Today, the same shops in Chinese cities and settlements all over the world are still selling roasted ducks in this fashion.  This is because the dish is considered a specialty – requiring great skill to make – and one too difficult to prepare at home.Roasted duck in one form or another has been enjoyed in China for more than a millennium, but the first description of prepared duck that resembles our modern Peking Duck comes from the Yuan Dynasty, ca. 1330, in Yinshan Zhengyao (Important Principles of Food and Drink), by Hu SihuiEven at that time, the dish was world renown, having been brought by the Yuan to the furthest reaches of their Empire and beyond.  At roughly the same time (mid-fourteenth Century) a reference for “Chinese Duck” that seems to describe Peking Duck is also found in a Yemeni dictionary written in five different languages (Arabic, Persian, Turkic, Mongol and Greek).  So, Peking Duck is, and has been for centuries, one of China’s great Silk Road gifts to the world.

Traditionally, Peking Duck is served and many important occasions, including weddings, because ducks and geese are symbols of conjugal fidelity in China.  When served with the head and feet on they  conjure images of wholeness and completeness as well.  The amber-to-auburn color of a roasted duck  also counts as “red” and brings happiness and good luck to the marriage or the  event that is being celebrated.

Peking Duck really  isn’t a dish, it is more of a process  that begins with the type of duck selected and how it is raised and culminates in the Chef slicing the meat into 120 pieces and serving it for diners to  enjoy.  Historically, small black ducks  from Nanjing were used to create Peking Duck. These birds were canal dwellers and relatively sedentary with a high  percentage of body fat.  Today, most restaurateurs  use the larger, white Pekin Ducks as the basis of the dish, although there is some use of foreign ducks that are larger and leaner in some establishments.

To offset the change from the small black ducks to the modern ducks, a period of force feeding has been introduced to increase body fat.  So  the ducklings are allowed normal lives for about the first month and a half of  their lives and then they are put in small pens that restrict their movement  and force fed several times a day.

Peking Ducks in Supermarket

After harvesting and  cleaning, the skin is separated from the body by blowing air underneath and  through it.  This allows the skin to cook  separately and lets most of the fat cling to the meat and keep it characteristically moist.  In times past  this was accomplished by inserting bamboo straws under the skin and having  chefs or line cooks blow air into the straws to separate the skin from the fat  and meat.  These days, it is done with a  manual or automatic pump, very much like a bicycle pump, that pumps compressed  air under the skin.  After this, the duck  is dipped in and out of water that has been brought to a boil and then removed from the heat.  This dipping tightens the skin  while keeping it separated from the fat and meat below.  Next, the duck is hung by a large hook in a “cool and dry” place.  This can be a screened area outside, or an unheated room at the periphery or cellar of the house or  building, or it can be a room made cool and ventilated by the use of fans.  There are also special cabinets that are used  for ventilating and drying ducks.  First  the duck is dried inside and out and then it is brushed inside and out with one or more layers of a malt-sugar based syrup.  If multiple layers of syrup are used, the duck is allowed to dry completely  between layers, giving a lacquered appearance to some ducks.

The ingredients that go into this syrup are tightly guarded secrets that vary between restaurants and  cooks and help to give the duck a range of distinctive flavors and keep the Beijing establishments competitive in a market awash with Peking Duck offerings.  Although the ingredients vary quite a bit,  the few recipe anchors include some variety malted sugar, water and salt.

The type of malt  sugar can be from rice, millet, wheat, or barley or a mixture of these grains.  Some cooks use a bit of sorghum to produce  the malted sugar for a more complex flavor as well.  To this, a rice wine like Shaoxing (Huangjiu) or Liaojiu can be added, although some cooks prefer to use rice wine vinegar or even just a bit of lemon juice instead.  This can be used as is, or it can be seasoned with cloves, star anise, cassia, black cardamom, mustard or fennel seeds, ginger, nutmeg,– or nearly anything else you wish to add. Sometimes a bit of dark soy sauce or a touch of fermented gluten is used to deepen and darken the syrup as well.

Chefs Near Ovens at Hua’s

When the lacquering  and drying is completed, the bird is placed on a rack or hung on a pole and cooked in a brick oven heated to 475 – 525 degrees Fahrenheit.  How the ovens are heated is again a matter of debate between cooks.  The “hung” ovens  are generally heated with fruit-wood fires produced from peach, pear trees and the rack ovens are sometimes heated with hardwoods and/or sorghum.  The sorghum is very high in tannins and phenols (like tea) and produces a distinctive flavor in the meat.  In the hung ovens, the birds are placed near the wood embers and cooked for 30-40 minutes depending on the temperature.  The cooks can adjust the distance the ducks hang above the flame to ensure even cooking. In the rack ovens, the birds are placed on the grill after the heating fire has been extinguished and the birds are cook by convection.

Unfortunately, there  is no substitute for a brick oven.  I  grew up in a home that had a large wood-fire brick oven in the backyard as part  of a great stone cooking chimney and can attest that there is nothing better for meat, bread or pizza.  Short of redesigning your kitchen or backyard, I recommend preheating your oven for many hours before attempting to cook a Peking-like duck.  This massive preheating will allow for more even heating and will tend to keep the oven’s temperature more stable – both characteristics of brick ovens.

Chef Carving Duck

The Chef carves the  duck, traditionally, into 120 pieces, and these days, many scrape the underside of the skin to remove bits of fat that may have clung to the flesh.  First the skin is served and enjoyed dipped in sweetened or unsweetened garlic sauce. Then the meat is served on pancakes (although I have also seen it served  on buns in the South).  Tiny brushes made from spring onions are available on most tables to brush sweet bean paste or osmanthus sauce onto the pancake, although in Hong Kong and in the West, the osmanthus sauce is replaced by Hoisin sauce.   It’s a pity that the osmanthus sauce is seen infrequently outside of  China.  It has an unusual flavor and tastes  and smells a bit like apricots.  It can be extremely (overly) sweet or a bit sweet and tart, depending on the constituents of the simple syrup used to make it.  Cut vegetables are also served with the duck and can include cucumber, lettuce or cabbage, Chinese yams, taro or lotus, and shallots.  Fermented gluten which has a  very strong soy flavor is also served as well sometimes, as is sliced pineapple.  Lastly, a duck stir fry or a broth or soup is often made from the scraps on the duck carcass after the first two duck courses are consumed.  The soup or broth helps to clear the palate after the Peking Duck feast that preceded  it.

You can see from the  description above how complex the recipe is and how variation in just one or  two ingredients or methods can produce a dramatic change in the flavor of the  final product.  I have never attempted it  at home, and am happy eating great ducks during my travels, or passable ones  from the better Chinese restaurants in this area. The version of Peking Duck – called Ba Ye Duck – I has a couple of weeks ago at Hua’s Restaurant in Beijing was miraculous and is the duck to beat. here at home, I sometimes grab a duck-to go from a Chinatown market and reheat it at home – the Chinese version of take-and-bake.  However you choose to enjoy Peking Duck, now you know that it is a recipe – or rather a process – steeped in the history of the Silk Road. (Words and most photos by Laura Kelley; photo of Ba Ye Duck borrowed from Hua’s Restaurant).

China: There and Back Again

We returned home from China a few days ago, my mind is still awash with all of the fantastic food I encountered on our combination family vacation and food research trip. We sampled a wide variety of food from fine restaurants in big cities serving national and regional specialties to street vendors dolling out snacks for a single yuan or two. We toured outdoor markets serving cooked food as well as huge, modern supermarkets where locals buy fresh produce and staples as well as fresh dumplings, rolls and breads. I even bought an armful of unusual, local snacks at the Xi’an Airport which included Yak Jerky and Dried Chicken Feet. In addition to sampling and enjoying food, I’ve brought back recipes and food ideas that I will have to reconstruct and share with you.

Hua’s Restaurant – Shimao Mansion

In Beijing and Shanghai, we sampled classic dishes such as Shark’s Fin Soup, Bird’s Nest Soup, Hong Kong Roast Goose, Deep-Fried Pigeon and Stir-Fried Abalone. We also enjoyed a modern take on Peking Duck, called BaYe Duck, that is prepared exclusively at Hua’s Restaurant in Beijing. This last dish is interesting, because it is representative of a new, lighter Chinese cuisine called Beijing cuisine in which traditional dishes are prepared with modern health sensibilities in mind.

Seahorse Tokay Wine

Xi’an was all about local food and drink for us. We sampled a variety of local “wine” which was really corn-based liquor (aka Chinese moonshine) flavored with pomegranates, saffron, ginseng and wolfberries and the strangest with starfish, sanddollars, a turtle and what might have been a lizard. The drinks flavored with pomegranates and saffron were good and had a great flavor, the other two just tasted sharp to me – not something I would reach for a second time unless they had fantastic health benefits attached to it. On the other hand, the tea we had in Xi’an – blooming jasmine, pu’er, and dragon-well tea were keepers that I brought home loose or pressed in decorative tea cakes

Other local food we had in Xi’an include hand-stretched noodles in a rich broth and thousand year eggs as part of an incredible buffet. We also had grilled mutton spiced with cumin, babaojing rice cakes flavored with jujube and jam, and persimmon cakes – all food that arose from the Shaanxi Muslim community.

Dumplings were everywhere – stuffed with pork, cabbage, fish, and combinations of meat and vegetables, and we enjoyed them with dipping sauces or sliced baby ginger and salted cucumber sticks. They also have marvelous “soup dumplings” that are served with straws for you to enjoy steaming hot soup before the cooked dumpling dough. These are made with a mixture of meat and aspic that then becomes “soup” when steamed. We trudged through the long queue in Shanghai’s Yu Yuan Bazaar for an authentic soup dumpling from the source at the Nanxiang Bun Shop.

I’ll be writing about these experiences and more over the next few weeks and I hope you tune in to enjoy the descriptions, cultural significance and when possible, recipes for some of the food we sampled. (Words and Photos by Laura Kelley).