Every Grain of Rice: Simple Chinese Home Cooking (20 page)

In many parts of China, fish ponds and canals were always a part of village life. Carp and catfish fed on weeds and smaller creatures in the water, and provided flesh for the dinner table as part of a sustainable agricultural system. Other freshwater fish came from rivers, lakes and streams, while people living on the coasts had plentiful supplies of sea fish.

In an era when China is suffering the ugly side effects of reckless modernization, it is easy to forget that this was a culture that once prized environmental stewardship.The first duty of a good ruler was always to keep his people well fed. The key to this was a sustainable food system, as the ancient philosopher Mencius (circa 372–289BC) suggested in a statement that could be a manifesto for the modern environmental movement:

Do not disregard the farmer’s seasons and food will be more than enough. Forbid the use of fine-meshed nets and fish and turtles will be more than enough. Take wood from the forests at prescribed times only and there will be material enough and to spare. With a sufficiency of grain, of fish and of material, the people would live without anxiety. This is the first principle of Princely Government.

At a time when supplies of sea fish are under strain the world over due to over-fishing, and when fish-farming practices are creating their own environmental problems, it is hard to eat fish with a clear conscience. The best way to do it, perhaps, is to take a leaf from the book of traditional Chinese family dining and make a whole fish an occasional treat, to be shared by a group. This is the way the recipes in this chapter are intended to be used: a whole trout or sea bass, for example, with other dishes, can be shared by at least six people.

Food writers in some Western countries are beginning to champion a revival of carp and other freshwater species as a way of dealing with dwindling ocean fish stocks. If supplies of carp become more available, it will be worth remembering the exciting Chinese repertoire of recipes for it and other freshwater fish. All the recipes in this chapter (bar that for clams) can be adapted to use with many kinds of fish.

Fish are typically served whole on the Chinese dinner table, with guests helping themselves to little pieces of their flesh with chopsticks. When I’m serving guests at home, however, having shown them the whole fish, I often ease the flesh from the spine with a spoon and fork, then lift out and set aside the backbone, head and tail to make things easier. I always remind people, though, that one of the most prized morsels in Chinese terms is the tiny piece of flesh in a fish’s cheek (on one occasion in Hangzhou, I was privileged to try a grand old dish made with the cheeks of 200 fish). In some coastal parts of China, it is considered bad luck to turn a fish on a plate as this suggests the capsizing of a fishing boat, so people always remove the backbone to get at the flesh underneath, rather than flipping it over. A whole fish is an essential part of the New Year’s Eve feast, because the auspicious phrase
nian nian you yu
is a pun, meaning both “have fish year after year” and “have a surplus year after year.”

Some tips on choosing and cooking fish

– Always use the freshest fish you can find: look out for bright eyes, blood-red gills and shiny flesh that bounces back when you poke it with a finger.

– To refine the flavor of a fish and dispel what the Chinese call “off tastes” or “fishy flavors,” rub it inside and out with a little salt and Shaoxing wine and place a crushed spring onion and a crushed piece of ginger in its belly. Leave to marinate for 10–15 minutes before cooking, and discard any juices that emerge from the fish.

– When frying a fish in shallow oil, rubbing a little salt into its skin will help keep the skin intact and prevent sticking.

– When steaming a fish on a plate, place a spring onion or two, or a wooden chopstick, beneath its body, to enable steam to circulate between it and the plate.

STEAMED SEA BASS WITH GINGER AND SPRING ONION
QING ZHENG LU YU
清蒸鱸魚

This is one of the easiest dishes to prepare and yet is greeted with more delight at the dinner table than almost any other. The cooking method is typically Cantonese, which is to say that it relies on superbly fresh produce and minimal intervention: the seasonings are there just to enhance the flavor of the fish. The only thing you need to be careful with is the timing, making sure the fish is not overcooked.

Don’t worry too much about quantities, just use those I’ve given as a guide. This recipe will make a farmed sea bass taste splendid, a wild one sublime. You need to steam the fish in a dish that fits into your steamer or wok, with a little room around the edges for steam to circulate. If you can’t quite fit the fish, lying flat, in your steamer, you can curl it around, or, in a worst-case scenario, cut it neatly in half then reassemble on the serving plate.

In China, the fish is presented whole. At more informal meals, guests will pluck pieces of fish with their chopsticks, dip them into the soy sauce, and then eat. In more formal settings, a waitress may lift the top fillet from the fish and lay it on the dish, then remove the backbone with attached head and tail. If you do this, don’t forget to offer the fish cheeks to your most honored guest before you remove the head!

5 spring onions

2 oz (50g) piece of ginger

1 sea bass, about 1½ lb (700g), scaled and cleaned, but with head and tail intact

Salt

1 tbsp Shaoxing wine

3 tbsp light soy sauce or tamari

4 tbsp cooking oil

Trim the spring onions and cut three of them into 2½ in (6cm) lengths, then into fine slivers. Wash and peel the ginger, keeping the thick peel and any knobbly bits for the marinade. Cut the peeled part into long, thin slivers.

Rinse the fish in cold water and pat it dry. Starting at the head, make three or four parallel, diagonal cuts on each side of the fish, cutting into the thickest part of the flesh near the backbone. Rub it inside and out with a little salt and the Shaoxing wine. Smack the ginger remnants and one of the remaining spring onions with the side of a cleaver or a rolling pin to release their fragrances and place them in the belly cavity of the fish. Leave to marinate for 10–15 minutes.

Pour off any liquid that has emerged from the fish and pat it dry. Tear the last spring onion into two or three pieces and lay it in the center of the steaming plate. Lay the fish over the spring onion (the onion will raise the fish slightly so steam can move around it).

Steam the fish over high heat for 10–12 minutes, until just cooked. Test it by poking a chopstick into the thickest part of the flesh, just behind the head; the flesh should flake away easily from the backbone. When the fish is nearly done, dilute the soy sauce with 2 tbsp hot water.

Remove the fish from the steamer and transfer carefully to a serving dish. Remove and discard the ginger and spring onion from its belly and the cooking juices.

Scatter the fish with the slivered ginger and spring onion. Heat the oil in a wok or small pan over a high flame. When it starts to smoke slightly, drizzle it over the ginger and spring onion slivers, which should sizzle dramatically (make sure the oil is hot enough by dripping a tiny amount over the fish and listening for the sizzle before you pour the rest over it). Pour the diluted soy sauce all around the fish and serve immediately.

VARIATION

Steamed fish fillets with ginger and spring onion

Fillets of fish can be cooked in exactly the same way, adjusting cooking times and quantities accordingly.

SEA BREAM IN FISH-FRAGRANT SAUCE
JI LI JIA XIANG YU
吉利家鄉魚

This is my attempt to recreate, on a domestic scale, a recipe from the Bashu Weiyuan, a splendid little restaurant tucked away on a back street in the center of Chengdu. It’s an inexpensive and unassuming place, but the flavors of the food are extraordinary and refreshingly traditional in a city that is changing at breakneck pace. There, where they title the dish “Lucky home town fish,” they serve a whole sea bass covered in lavish quantities of fish-fragrant sauce, that famous Sichuanese combination of pickled chilli, garlic and ginger with sweet-and-sour flavors. Here, I’ve suggested using a smaller fish and more modest amounts of sauce. Use the same sauce to dress a different type of fish, or fillets, blanched razor clams, or steamed scallops. It also goes spectacularly well with deep-fried chicken or tofu.

3 cups (750ml) chicken stock

1 sea bream (¾ lb/350g), scaled and cleaned, but with head and tail intact

For the sauce

2 tbsp cooking oil

2 tbsp Sichuan chilli bean paste (or Sichuan pickled chilli paste if you can get it)

1 tbsp finely chopped garlic

1 tbsp finely chopped ginger

¾ cup (200ml) chicken stock

1 tbsp sugar

2 tsp potato flour mixed with 1½ tbsp cold water

1 tbsp Chinkiang vinegar

3 tbsp finely sliced spring onion greens

Heat up the 3 cups (750ml) stock in a wok.

Make parallel cuts ⅜ in (1cm) apart along each side of the fish, perpendicular to the spine and all the way down to the backbone (this will help the fish to poach quickly and keep it tender). Lay it in the boiling stock, bring the liquid to a boil, then reduce the heat to poach the fish gently. Move the fish around a little if necessary to ensure even cooking. After about two minutes, turn the fish and poach for another two minutes, by which time it should be just tender to the bone: poke a chopstick into the thickest part of the flesh to make sure (it should come away easily from the backbone). Remove the fish to a serving dish and pour off the stock for other uses.

Re-season the surface of the wok, then return to a medium flame with the cooking oil. Add the chilli bean paste and stir-fry for a minute or so until the oil is red and fragrant. Add the garlic and ginger and stir until you can smell their fragrances. Then pour in the ¾ cup (200ml) stock and bring to a boil.

Mix in the sugar, then give the potato flour mixture a stir and add just enough to thicken the sauce to a thick, luxurious gravy (you will probably need all of it). Then stir in the vinegar, followed by the spring onion greens. Mix well and ladle over the waiting fish. Serve.

DRY-BRAISED FISH WITH BLACK BEAN AND CHILLI
DOU LA GAN SHAO YU
豆辣乾燒魚

My friend Paul’s mother, the daughter of Canadian missionaries, spent her childhood in Sichuan. During the upheavals of early republican China, she and her family made occasional trips back to Canada and had to brave pirates on their way down the Yangtze River to Shanghai. Apparently the joke was that the pirates, lurking in the backwaters, sent spies to watch the passengers on board as they ate, because observing how an individual ate their fish would give them a good idea of the kind of ransom they might fetch. Anyone who preferred the area around the cheeks showed the exquisite taste of the upper classes and was worth kidnapping. Those who favored the delicate flesh near the tail might fetch a good price, while anyone who ate fish indiscrimately might as well be tossed overboard.

What this tells you is what any Chinese person knows, which is that the silky flesh pocketed in a fish’s cheeks is the choicest morsel, and the succulent tissue around its lips and eyesockets is also extravagantly delicious. So if you invite Chinese friends for dinner and you’d rather eat the flesh near the backbone, they’ll be quietly thrilled.

This recipe uses the favorite Hunanese flavor combination of fermented black beans and chilli.