Shanghai Dumpling Bonanza

If I was looking forward to one food item more than any other during my trip to China, it was the dumpling. To be specific, the soup dumpling, but really I was on the lookout for any dumpling.

Two and a half weeks into my trip, it was looking pretty dire. I knew that Shanghai was where I was bound to find the best dumpling, but I was rather shocked with how few I came across throughout the rest of the country.

Sure, there was the odd pork and chive filled variety, but it wasn't anything special. They were good, sure, but I just knew there were better dumplings to be had. And then, there was Shanghai.

On our first day in Shanghai, we made sure to stop off at Nan Xiang, a restaurant in the middle of the exceedingly touristy Yuyuan Gardens. There is also a window, on the first floor of the restaurant (the restaurant proper starts on the 2nd floor) selling nothing but the soup dumplings. Just follow the ever-present line snaking across the bazaar to the source of the deliciousness in the form of xiao long bao.

Each tightly wrapped bundle is an adventure. There is an art to eating these, such that you don't burn the shit out of your tongue while making sure not to let a drop of thIe unbelievably delicious soup escape your mouth. First, you must bite the dumpling and suck out the soup, making sure to blow on it a bit so that you can actually taste what you're about to eat. Then just cram the dumpling into your mouth, and enjoy the unbelievable combination of fresh dumpling skin and fatty, fatty pork. Eating these with a spoon is undoubtedly easier, since you don't have to worry about the little suckers slipping out from between your chopsticks as you attempt to savor these little treats.



They come 16 to an order, for 12 yuan, or about $1.75. Half of this was enough to make a meal for me, since the inside is full of rich pork and unctuous soup.

The next dumplings I sampled came from - me! I attended a couple of cooking classes while I was in Shanghai: a wet market tour and wok class and a dim sum class. I'll report back later on the wok class, but for now I'm all about dumplings. We made xiao long bao from scratch (well, almost, the "pork jelly" was already prepared, and is essentially a mixture made of pork skin that melts down as the dumplings steam and provides the soup for the soup dumplings), mixing, kneading, filling, twisting and steaming our way to dumpling perfection (I wish).



Watching the dumplings being made at Nan Xiang, I was impressed with how quickly they were folded. Pleats and crimps made effortlessly, without even looking. Once I tried making these little buggers on my own, though, my level of admiration for the dumpling-makers of the world skyrocketed. We spent a solid 45 minutes just making practice dumplings, with the instructor walking around, telling us we were doing it incorrectly, and graciously repeating her instructions and leading our hands in order to familiarize us with the excessively tedious process of crimping.

At first, I was terrible. I mean really, how pathetic is that dumpling? I appeared to have no chance whatsoever to be an expert dumpling maker. And I'm not exaggerating, I was awful. Once I got the hang of it, though, after many, many, maaaaany failed attempts, I was on a roll. In fact, the instructor said that I made the nicest dumplings of the group at the end (and she didn't even say it to me! so it had to be true! Right? Right!)

But seriously, look at these beauties. They were the result of my persistence, determination and extreme stubbornness. And they were delicious.



I have the recipe stashed away somewhere, but my room is still in the transitional period (read: there's a lot of shit I still have to unpack), and will get that down here as soon as it's unearthed, but what I can tell you is that the dough was made with nothing more than flour and water, while the inside is a mixture of pork, pork jelly, ginger, garlic, green onion, soy sauce, sugar, salt, pepper, and a bit of water. At least I think that's what's in it. In any event, when you're working with a base of pork and something called "pork jelly," can you really ever go wrong?*



*Hint: the answer is no.

The final dumpling I'm going to share is perhaps the ultimate, the daddy of all dumplings: the shengjian bao. It is a force to be reckoned with, and it is one of the (surprisingly many) foods from my trip that I find myself really and truly craving.

Behold the fried soup dumpling:



This gem came to me from Yang's Fry Dumpling. They're larger than xiao long bao, and a totally different monster. The skin is thicker, the inside fuller, and they soup tastier and more plentiful than their little cousins. And - they're fried, which is really the kicker. Instead of getting the steam treatment like the xiao long bao, the shengjian bao are fried in a giant cast iron pan so that the bottoms get a crunchy, crackly, unbelievably delicious texture. The pan is closed so that the dumpling steams while it fries, allowing the meal to cook and creating a contrast in the texture between the top of the bun and the bottom. A light coating of sesame seeds, some green onions for good measure, a quick dip in some vinegar and you have yourself a pocket of pure perfection, ready to burst at the seams with pure tastiness.

There is so much soup in these things that you really must be careful when biting into them, for the soup is not too shy to burst out and greet your adorable yellow shirt with its greasy embrace.* With a well-placed bite, the golden shell will part just enough to allow you to slurp all of the soup out, and then unashamedly devour the rest, perhaps even without taking a breath. These things are incredible and ridiculously cheap at 4 yuan for 4 crazy good dumplings (less than 60 cents). And I would like one now...

* RIP adorable yellow shirt. Rest assured that you were sacrificed for an exceedingly worthy cause.


Nanxiang Mantou Dian
85 Yuyuan Lu
Shanghai, China

Yang's Fry Dumpling
54 Wujiang Lu
Shanghai, China

Chinese Cooking Workshop
No 35, Lane 865 Yu Yuan Road
Shanghai, China

A Farmer's Feast

In the three and a half weeks I spent in the vast country of China, I was in cities as large as 30 million people, and towns so small they had only a single nursery school. We made it to Yangshuo, in Guanxi province toward the end of our trip, and it was a lovely break from the fast pace the trip had been following up to that point. We sat around, went swimming in the gorgeous Li river amidst water buffalo and fishermen, and enjoyed the stunning scene cast by limestone cliffs.



On the last of our three days in Yangshuo, we were lucky enough to be treated to a meal prepared by a farmer in his home. It was one of the high points of the trip; the food was wonderful, the house was charming, and the farmer was constantly coming back and forth, checking in and making sure we were satisfied, and that we left full (oh, did we leave full). He was gracious and kind, answering all of our questions without abandon through our tour guide, who served as translator.

The food was not the most creative in the world, nor was it the most aggressively spiced, but it had no reason to be. The ingredients were extremely fresh, and the quick cooking methods and subtle flavorings allowed their flavors to really shine through; it was absolutely wonderful. And it was served with none of the pretense of the "eat local" craze that is tearing across North America right now. This is not to say that I am opposed to said movement, in fact I think it is wonderful, and I think every one of us should take steps to eat more sustainably. There is no need for such a movement on the farms of Yangshuo. These farmers eat from the land, and understand the give and take between man and nature. This understanding has never waned, and there has never been any way to eat besides locally, which is why the food has never lost its soul. It was real, honest food. And it was delicious.



We sat down to three dishes: omelette with ground pork, sauteed potatoes and a sauteed pumpkin (or other like mystery squash). Everything tasted just like the sum of its parts, allowing the freshness of the ingredients to shine through. The squash was my favorite of the three, it was delicately spiced and had a hint of sweetness, and it was absolutely fantastic.



The farmer came out next with a dish of carrots and chicken with spring onions. The carrots tasted, well, just like incredibly carroty carrots, so crisp and fresh and oh so orange, perfectly accented with just the touch of soy sauce in which it was sauteed.

Bamboo shoots with pork was next. The sauces that graced each of these plates was rather similar, and I think it was just a sautee in some soy sauce, with a touch of garlic and ginger that brought every dish together, and allowed the ingredients of each to really speak for themselves. Bamboo shoots were one of the things I got (probably undeservedly) excited about every time they arrived at the table, since they are pretty much the best things ever and highly underrepresented in the American diet for obvious bamboo-related reasons.



These fried eggplant slices were battered and also had some pork stuffed in there. I wasn't a huge fan just because it tasted too fried for me, but everyone else at the table absolutely gobbled them up.



Sauteed bean sprouts in soy sauce was the last dish to make ti to the table. I didn't expect much from this dish, but it really surprised me. When I thought about it, I realized that I hadn't often eaten cooked bean sprouts, since they're usually tossed in at the end of the recipe to make sure they don't get sadly droopy. These bean sprouts were cooked just enough to warm them, but they still kept all their delightfully snappy integrity, and the light sauce allowed the very delicate flavor of the bean sprouts to come out without overpowering it.

The farmer dashed off after he realized we were full beyond belief and returned a few minutes later on his motorbike with a large bag in his basket. We all watched, confused, as he set up a ladder and strung what appeared to be 92854 firecrackers along that and the wall. Apparently it is tradition for those in the town to set off firecrackers whenever they have honored guests (though we were far from distinguished, so I'm not sure if I buy this...) to draw attention to and honor their presence. Let me tell you, those firecrackers were loud as hell, and seemingly went off for 17 minutes, though I'm sure it was more like five. To my eardrums, it was an eternity. But it was amazing.



It was wonderful to take a break from the chili flake and MSG-addled dishes we'd been (gladly, mind you) eating through that point on the trip and enjoy some food that didn't need any of that pageantry. Just Real. Good. Food.

Long-Overdue Nibbles - and Zai Jian!

Guess what?!? I'm going to China! Tomorrow! For almost a month! I'm going to eat my body weight in xiaolongbao, and I'm going to love every minute of it. I promise to return with many pictures and much to share, but before I leave, I want to share with you some photos (of varying levels of quality - ranging of course from poor to shamefully awful) of some great meals I had in Chicago before I left. I've been sitting on most of these for a ridiculous amount of time, so my descriptions will clearly suffer, but I enjoyed all three of these meals, and would recommend a visit to any of these establishments in a heartbeat.

The first was a celebratory dinner at May St. Market.

We began with a few appetizers - the Maytag Bleu Cheesecake, which I knew I was ordering before I stepped into the restaurant (and which I dug my fork into so quickly that no picture could be taken) and a special soft shell crab spring roll, which was good, but quite overpriced for what it was, especially compared to the rest of the menu, which is all pretty reasonably priced.

Then came the entrees:

I had the duck breast with couscous and dried fruit (mostly figs as I recall, though this was literally almost three months ago so please bear with me).



The duck was cooked expertly - I am not a duck person, so every other person at the table was completely taken aback when I ordered it, and even more so when I declared that I loved it. It was juicy, meaty, and not overly fatty - the couscous was delicious and the jus pulled it all together beautifully. The bitterness and saltiness of the arugula and pecorino cheese, draped over the rest of the plate, helped tie everything together and bring some lightness to an otherwise rather heavy dish.

My brother and mother ordered the horseradish crusted Alaskan halibut, which was accompanied by a radish and celery leaf salad, horseradish cream, parsnip puree and a celery leaf emulsion (the menu currently says that it is celery leaf emulsion, but I am not completely sure that was the case three months ago, but I'm going to run with it).



I managed to sneak a little taste of this before it was devoured, and it was quite delicious, tender and expertly cooked, with the perfect amount of bite added from the horseradish. They split that and a cioppino, which was filled with great looking seafood, and accompanied by some delicious-looking crusty bread for the-dunkin'. I didn't get a chance to taste this one, but judging from the fact that nothing was left, I feel safe saying that it went over well.

My father and Andrew ordered the steak (can't remember what cut it was), which was accompanied by a sweet glaze, peaches, arugula, a basked of french fries and some homemade ketchup:



The steak was good, I wasn't wowed, but there was certainly nothing wrong with the dish. The ketchup was great, though, fresh and faintly spicy, it put Heinz to shame.

Throughout the meal, we munched on bread with two types of butter, one plain and one a red wine truffle butter.


I found the latter to be strangely delicious, slightly sweet and slightly earthy, and totally awesome.

As far as service went, the waitress was incredibly helpful and made recommendations for each of us. My dad's steak came out cold, and no fuss was made when he sent it back. When reheated, it came back rubbery and dry (as reheated steaks tend to do), so it was sent back once again, and the manager came out and was incredibly gracious and saw to it that everything else was lovely. I would go back in a heartbeat, and I suggest you pay a visit. They have an early evening prix fixe menu, which I believe is offered until 7:30 or 8 every day, and is $32 for three courses, a/k/a a great deal.

May Street Market
1132 W. Grand St. (at May St.)
Chicago
(312) 421-5547

The next meal I'd like to share was at San Soo Gab San, and was more of an experience than any of the others. I had never had Korean BBQ before (having shunned red meat for a while there was really no draw there for me - am I ever glad those days are behind me).

For those of you who don't know, Korean BBQ is about as interactive a meal as they get. First what seems like 942 tiny plates filled with little bites are brought for the table (called Panchan), which are to be eaten either on their own, or piled into lettuce wraps with the meat, or really, however you desire. That hole you see in the middle of the table becomes the grill once you've placed your order, and you are then handed a giant plate of raw meat, which the designated griller at the table places on the grill and cooks up for the rest of the grateful diners. What this means is that you leave Korean BBQ and smell like the inside of a barbeque. It's just the price you have to pay, and it's worth it.

The arsenal of Panchan:



We had a couple of appetizers, the first of which was a seafood pancake, called, I believe a Pajun, and filled with squid and beef and accompanied by a soy dipping sauce:*


* I could be totally making this up - please inform me if I am wrong.

We also had some Chapche, which are cellophane noodles stir-fried with vegetables and beef:



Both appetizers were alright -nothing really to write home (or you) about, I found the Pajun far too oily - but that's not why you're there anyway - you're there for piles upon piles of meat.



We went for the Kalbi (marinated short ribs) and the Bulgogi (marinated ribeye), both of which are sliced thin to make for quick cooking on the grill. They're brought to the table with lettuce leaves and rice, used to make wraps for easy handling of the meat. The meat was pretty damn good, nothing too crazy or high-quality, but tasty, salty, amazing nonetheless.

Some of us chose to use tidy proportions of rice, meat and panchan to make an easily manageable wrap:



While some went totally crazy and filled their lettuce leaves with reckless disregard of such proportions:



My first experience with Korean BBQ was messy and delicious, and the lingering smell of meat that permeated my body ensured that I was not soon to forget it.

San Soo Gab San
5247 N Western Ave (between Berwyn Ave & Farragut Ave)
Chicago
(773) 334-1589

The final meal was at Bonsoiree, which I have written about here before. This time, we went for the Special Saturday Underground dinner, the menu for which is sent out to those on the restaurant's mailing list (sign up is at their website, link here and below) usually on Tuesday, disclosing the set meal for the coming Saturday. Having really enjoyed the restaurant the first time I went, I was really looking forward to returning for one of these underground events.

Summer is really a wonderful time to eat at Bonsoiree, since they have an outdoor patio out back that is charmingly reminiscent of a cozy backyard. It was, however, ridiculously dark back there, at times making it impossible for me to see my food, forget snap a photo of it. The BYOB aspect really makes the restaurant an attractive choice for a nice meal as well.

The meal began with an amuse bouche of shrimp in red curry. It appears to have been the same curry that the mussels came in on my first visit, and it was no less delicious this time.



We then were served an heirloom tomato and salsify salad with haricots vert and creamy champagne vinaigrette. The salad was delicious, the tomatoes bursting with flavor, with the vinagrette bringing out the subtleties of flavor, rather than overwhelming it.

The second course was French Onion Soup with Gruyere Baked Bread and Shaved Black Truffle:



It seemed an odd thing to serve in early August, but it was actually delicious. The Baked Bread was a flatbread rolled up with Gruyere inside, and it made a great vessel to dip into the soup. The soup was delicate, not overly cheesy or heavy, which (I guess), made it a bit more appropriate for a warm summer night. Maybe.

Up next was Pork Belly, Lump Crab, Pineapple-Shiso Ham and Star Anise:



The pork belly was cooked fantastically, allowing for a contrast between crispy and lusciously fatty to arise. The pineapple jam went effortlessly with the pork, the sweetness and the texture both serving to heighten the flavors of the pork. The lump crab was fresh and light. The dish seemed a bit disconnected, and though the pineapple jam worked well with both the crab and the pork, it seemed better suited to the pork, and the crab seemed to have less of a role in the overall dish. Not that I'm really complaining, though, it was definitely good.

The main was a Japanese Barbequed Ribeye, with Chestnut Whipped Potato, Peppers in Ponzu, Crispy Parsnip, Mustard Jus and a Special Barbeque Sauce:



The ribeye was cooked to a fantastic medium-rare, and the potatoes were hearty and tasty. The mustard sauce received mixed reviews, but the barbeque sauce was a the clear winner. What couldn't be disputed, though was that the portions were pretty generous, and I couldn't come close to tackling the amount of steak that had been handed to me. Once again, this dish seemed a bit seasonally inappropriate - a shockingly heavy dish to serve on the first Saturday of August.

Oh well, onto dessert - Lotus root custard, cinnamon sorbet and gooseberry coulis:



The custard was awesome - I really liked the hunks of lotus root that were dotted within the creamy mass on the plate. The cinnamon sorbet was amazing, and I found myself craving it for weeks afterwards. Cinnamon ice cream I have had many times before, but I don't think I had ever had cinnamon sorbet before, and it was quite interesting how the force of the cinnamon was able to more clearly come through, not being softened at all by cream. Each bite tasted of cinnamon sugar, and each bite was delicious.

The meal was lovely, and ridiculously filling, and surprisingly autumnal. The course selection and flavorings of many of the courses were a bit odd for a summer evening. In fact many of the flavors, cinnamon, parsnip, chestnut, remind me more of fall than of the dead of summer. It was a delicious meal nonetheless, though not as exciting as the first visit, since I knew what was coming, it reaffirmed that Bonsoiree is indeed a delicious Chicago destination.

Bonsoiree Café and Delicacies
2728 W Armitage (between Fairfield and Washtenaw Aves)
(773) 486-7511