Pao de Queijo, Pork and Other Things Not Beginning With P

A while ago during Chinese New Year, I'd baked up a batch of fantastic Pao de Queijo but never got around to posting the pictures up. I'd promised the friend who introduced me to Elise of Simply Recipes' wonderful Pao de Queijo page, that I'd make both versions that were given there - one is a kneaded dough, the other is put together in a blender and poured into mini muffin tins. I didn't get around to the second one till much later, and life interfered so here are both photos and thoughts on both recipe versions.

Pao de Queijo, as far as I can dig up, is Brazilian cheese bread made from manioc flour, or tapioca starch. Manioc flour is apparently fermented and has a slightly sour taste to it, but that's not something I can find here in Malaysia at all. Tapioca starch however I can find in -scads-. It's also known as tapioca flour, confusingly enough, but they're both the same thing.

Elise lists down two recipes - one is the easy blender version, another involves no blender, a mashed potato, and kneading up the dough by hand.


The Kneaded Version



The first time I made this, I thought I'd made a mistake. While the dough came together fine after mixing up the milk, flour, oil potato and the cheese, the recipe instructions didn't say that the addition of eggs would turn it into a completely soggy, goopy mess that looked like a disaster area. And the dough was supposed to be very silky and mouldable! However, after a few minutes the tapioca starch absorbed everything nicely and what do you know, it DID turn out silky and mouldable.

And it baked up like a -dream-. My mother, who normally doesn't eat a lot of dairy or cheese, couldn't stop eating them. The flavour was amazingly wonderful, and so was the texture. I used a combination of cheddar and parmesan cheese for a very strong cheesy flavour, having read that the blandness of the tapioca needed it. By golly it worked! However, I think next time I would store leftover dough in the fridge rather than the freezer, because when it thawed out, there was far too much excess water and the dough became far too liquid. I'd make this again, no hesitation.


The Blender Version



The blender version of the recipe is very simple - all ingredients get thrown into the blender, whizzed into a batter, and then gets poured into a mini muffin tin to bake. It takes about 15 minutes, or less if you're faster than I am at measuring stuff.

It baked up fantastic too, rose like little puffy hats! The flavour was good - if I hadn't actually baked the kneaded version, I'd have been ecstatic with this. As it is, I think the flavour of the kneaded one is better. I'd also use a neutral-flavoured oil, rather than the olive oil - the olive oil flavour was very distinct and a bit strong.

Otherwise though, this was a very, very simple and very good recipe. I would definitely make it again, due to how little time it takes.




Another recipe that I'd been dying to try for a while was the Lisu Spice-Rubbed Pork from Beyond the Great Wall. When Leite's Culinaria posted the recipe last year, I decided to finally give it a shot but I only managed it about two weeks ago. Whoops. However, it turned out to be one of the easiest, most flavourful recipes I've ever come across. The pork was tender and moist, and all around -wonderful-. In fact, when I made it today and accidentally left out the allspice which I substituted for nutmeg (not having any), it STILL tasted amazing.




Recently a friend and colleague came back from taking the Youth Chamber Choir to Vietnam for competition (they won the category championship!) and all the talk about Vietnamese food and Banh Xeo (Vietnamese sizzling crepes) got me into the mood to make some.

I used Rasa Malaysia's Banh Xeo recipe, cutting the quantities down in half. The results? Wonderful! Crispy on the edges and soft in the centre, just like it was supposed to be. I didn't have bean sprouts or chillies, so I just used shredded chicken and some pork and the green onions for the filling. It was great regardless, and so easy - I am going to make another round of this -with- all the ingredients next time. There's a vegetarian version I've come across, which I plan to try one day - Winnie, you'd like that I know!

And yes, Banh Xeo really -is- that lovely bright yellow colour - it's the turmeric powder that does it.

I'm not posting the recipes I used; I've linked them for you so you can go read them for yourself. These cooks have done amazing work; they deserve all the credit for their wonderful recipes!

Next up, ie: when I get around to editing photos - Migas! And possibly soda bread (and a dozen other things that I really should get around to writing up eventually.)

Chinese New Year Cheer

I've been on a slight hiatus from blogging, partly due to life and partly due to some slight burn-out from work-related writing. That doesn't mean I haven't actually been taking photos - in fact now I just have to find time to blog about all of the stuff I've photographed!

In view of the fact that Chinese New Year has just come and gone though, I post this in celebration of a wonderful week-long break that was very much necessary - and also in tribute to my father.

My father deserves to be mentioned far more in this blog, because he is an amazing cook who doesn't bat an eye at turning out food for dozens and dozens of people. He's told me before that his university life included a stint at a conference centre where he'd prepare food for a couple hundred people. As a result of this, he's unfazed by the thought of cookery, be it barbeque for 30 people (my 16th birthday) or a hungry bottomless pit (my brother). He also loves to cook, which works out well since my mother's not as fond of the culinary arts even though she's an amazing cook herself.

This New Year, my father and I divided the cookery so I got to feed both my parents, and my father got to putter about in the kitchen like he loves. I tried a load of recipes - Gluten-Free Girl's cream puffs (AMAZING), pao de queijo (heavenly), gluten-free French bread (beautiful texture but taste needs tweaking), and the infamous 36-hour chocolate chip cookies to name a few. We had a restaurant on our hands for a week, pretty much!

I also made one of my father's signature dishes - one I've dubbed the Lai Clan Clean Plate Braised Pork, as there's usually none left by the time guests get up from the table. He first taught this to me when I was in university, and it got rave reviews from any potlucks I happened to make it for.

The cooking instructions may look formidable, but I promise you, after everything's soaked and set aside, it comes together easy as sneezing. It is a magnificent dish, well worthy of Chinese New Year - in fact I made it for my birthday dinner with four other friends, and they loved it too!





Lai Clan Clean Plate Braised Pork

0.5-1kg pork fillet or loin
Handful dried oysters
Handful dried scallops
1 star anise
10-12 dried good, thick-fleshed shitake mushrooms
As many cloves of garlic as you want (I usually go for about 6-8 nice big cloves)
Approximately a tablespoon of gluten-free dark soya sauce
½ a tsp salt
A splash of Shaoxing wine / Chinese rice wine / any white wine (optional)
Oyster sauce, approximately 3-4 shakes from the bottle


Pork Preparation (About 1 hour or preferably several more before actual cooking):
Smash the garlic cloves with the flat side of a cleaver or nice big knife and peel them.

Rinse and pat dry the pork. Rub a clove or two of garlic over the meat thoroughly. Put all the garlic, the star anise, and the pork into a large bowl, add the dark soya sauce and the salt. Using your hands, rub the dark soya sauce and salt all over the meat – if you’re a garlic fanatic like me, you can rub the garlic over the pork again while you’re rubbing in the marinade. Put in the fridge and leave it alone for at least an hour. Me, I like to let it sit for a couple of hours (no need overnight, that’d be overkill), so I prepare it in the morning and keep it in the fridge till late afternoon when I cook it.

Dried Stuff Preparation (About 1 hour or so before actual cooking):
Soak the oysters in a bowl with about 1 cup water. Set aside for 1 hour or until no longer rock hard, and fairly pliable. If the water isn’t gritty, save the soaking liquid. If the water is gritty, pour it off and soak the oysters again in another cup of clean water until you’re ready to use them in the dish.

Soak the scallops in another bowl with about 1 cup of water. Set aside, until ready to use them in the dish. Important note: DO NOT DRAIN! Save the soaking liquid as it’s wonderfully flavourful and will be added to the cooking later.

Soak the mushrooms in a large bowl with plenty of hot water. Set aside, until ready to use. Drain the mushrooms - if the soaking water is gritty, discard. If not, keep and use for cooking later. Slice the mushrooms nice and thickly.


Cooking the Dish:
Take the pork out of the fridge and fish out the garlic cloves from the marinade.

Turn the fire up to medium high. In a heavy-bottomed pot large enough to hold your meat comfortably, add a drizzle of vegetable oil (enough to coat the bottom of the pan) and heat till the oil is smoking slightly. Add the garlic cloves from the meat and stir round; make sure it doesn’t scorch. Carefully lift the pork from the marinade and add to the pot. Sear the meat on all sides, making sure there are some nice browned bits all over the surfaces. Add in the drained, sliced mushrooms and stir-fry for about 30 seconds to a minute.

Add in the soaking water from the scallops, the oysters, and the mushrooms, if you’ve reserved that.

Add about a bowlful more water, up to about half the sides of the meat or a bit less if you want a thicker gravy. Be warned that it will evaporate so don’t put too little in. Bring to boil, then turn down to a simmer.

Cover the pot, wrap a twisted-up damp rag or dishcloth around the rim of the pot cover (you may need two dishcloths to do this, depending on the size of your pot). This is to keep the liquid from evaporating too quickly, basically creating a sort of rudimentary seal – at least, that’s what I was told when I was younger and I’m sticking to it.

Simmer for about 45 minutes to an hour. You want the pork to be tender, almost falling to pieces when you poke at it later. Check on it occasionally to make sure that the water hasn’t all evaporated.

At the end of simmering time, dissolve half to one teaspoon of cornflour in a little of the hot gravy and stir into the pot – make sure you keep stirring so it won’t turn lumpy. Once the gravy thickens, turn off the fire, let rest for about 15 minutes, then season to taste.

Serve with hot rice.

Note: This can be used for traditional Chinese New Year dinner too, if you add black moss! You won’t need to thicken the gravy if you do. Make sure to soak the black moss for about 5-10 minutes (it swells very fast), drain it well, and then add only at the last minute as that stuff soaks up gravy like –whoa-.

A Deeply Aromatic Curry for a Cold, Rainy Day

It's been raining a lot here. To be more precise, it's been raining almost every day since I got home to my parents' place last Tuesday evening.

Today was no exception - it poured the entire afternoon and the general weather was gloomy, grey, dreary, and cold.

Perfect weather for a mildly spicy warm curry.

In the spirit of Nigel Slater and his Luxurious and Deeply Aromatic Noodle Dish, I flipped through the Kitchen Diaries for a little inspiration, and rustled up this mild, creamy curry with a slight touch of heat (as per requested by my mother, who didn't want it too spicy this time) and a beautiful fragrance from the use of lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves and curry leaves.






A Deeply Aromatic Curry for a Cold Rainy Day
Adapted from Nigel Slater’s Luxurious and Deeply Aromatic and Soup

Spice paste:
2 thick slices ginger, or a small knob of it
Half a small onion, sliced
1 stick lemon grass, sliced thinly
A small handful parsley or coriander (Coriander would be more correct for this sort of Southeast Asian-influenced curry, but I only had parsley on hand)

Curry ingredients:
Half a medium head of cabbage, cut into bite-size wedges
3 potatoes
2 carrots
2 tomatoes, one diced, one sliced (or you can dice them all if you want, I just wanted a bit more colour and texture hence the slices)
2 large mushroom stems (or half a pack of any other mushrooms you like)
1 pack fishballs (optional)
2 tsp (or more) curry paste
2 tsp Seville orange marmalade
1 tbs cooking oil
Handful curry leaves
2 kaffir lime leaves, julienned finely
1 kaffir lime, or 1 small ordinary lime
1 ½ cups milk (you can also use coconut milk, but my mother can’t take it, so milk it was)
Salt to taste

Serves: 2 with leftovers, and could probably be a meal for 4


Preparing the spice paste:

In a mortar, pound the ginger, onion, lemon grass and parsley together till pulverised and fragrant. Set aside.




Preparing the curry:

Over a medium flame, heat the cooking oil in a large pot. Throw in the spice paste and stir it around until fragrant and small bits of onion are slightly brown, but don’t let it burn. Add in 1 tsp of curry paste and fry, stirring constantly, for about 30 seconds. Toss in the curry leaves, stir for about a minute with the spice paste, then add the julienned kaffir lime leaves and stir for another minute more.

Add in the diced tomato and stir-fry til the tomatoes are soft and somewhat mushy-looking. Add in the carrots and potatoes and stir well to combine. In about five minutes, when the potatoes and carrots are slightly cooked through, add the cabbage and cook, stirring constantly around, till the cabbage begins to wilt and become translucent. Add the sliced tomato and stir again for about a minute.

Pour in the milk, stir vegetables to combine, add the remaining 1 teaspoon spice paste and bring to the boil. Turn down to a simmer, cover, and let the entire thing simmer for about 15 minutes. Uncover, add the sliced mushrooms and fishballs, and squeeze the lime juice into the pot. Stir to combine, and simmer for another 10-15 minutes, this time with the lid half-off. The gravy will thicken up later, so don’t worry if it looks watery now.

Add in the marmalade (it sounds strange, I know, but trust me – it added just that little bit of tangy kick I was looking for.) Stir through to combine, and taste for seasoning. You’ll probably need a bit of salt to counteract the sweetness of the milk, but you won’t need too much. If you want to add more spice paste to bring up the heat, by all means – I wanted a mild curry with just a hint of chillies, so I used far less than usual.

Simmer for 10 minutes, turn off the heat and let sit for another 5-10 minutes so the flavours can blend and marry. By now the gravy should have thickened, so it will look more like a curry, and less like a soup.

Serve hot with rice.

A Tart for Sunshine

I don't always analyse why certain recipes catch my attention - only that I want to make them, and most of the time if I can, I do. When I'm at my parents' place for the holidays - like now - I tend to indulge a bit more when it comes to baking.

This was the case of Aran's beautiful pear and hazelnut tart for the holidays. My mother, having been given a choice of lemon-ginger bars or this, picked the tart. So I made it.

I made some changes to the recipe mostly because of ingredients at hand - instead of the brown rice flour and the two starches, I used the Ahern's Gluten-Free All-Purpose Flour Mix. Since I didn't have my stand mixer with me, I beat the sugar and butter by hand till it was light and fluffy (this can be done. Trust me. It is a bit slow and your arm will ache afterwards, but it is possible.)

I also cut down a bit of the sugar (a bit less than the half cup called for) and added 1 tablespoon of cocoa powder to the frangipane because I still found it rather overpoweringly sweet. As for the pears, well, I bought five, intending to use two apples to make up the deficit, only to find that TWO pears were more than enough for the topping. Still, that left us three to eat, and more fruits isn't a bad thing at all!

Lesson to self: when rolling pie scraps, put them in the fridge first before the pastry gets so soft it has to be scraped up like mashed potatoes.

I didn't have a tart dish, so I used my mother's glass pie plate, and was afraid the bottom wouldn't be cooked in the time designated by the recipe. As it turned out, I had to cook it for another extra 20 minutes as both frangipane and the crust bottom were very soggy.

Once I got it out of the oven and let it cool though, it was -lovely-. Very, very rich, very buttery, and smelled fantastic. I put it in the fridge for the next day and it was even better since everything had firmed up beautifully. The crust was absolutely gorgeous.

(Food styling really isn't my forte, as you can see. Everything's lopsided!)



Verdict: A bit labour-intensive for me, since I had to grind my own hazelnut meal -and- cream the butter and sugar by hand, but otherwise I'd definitely make this again. The addition of the cocoa powder gave the tart a lovely chocolate taste that complemented the hazelnuts perfectly. Thanks again Aran for a wonderful treat!

Here's To The Year...

...and all things wonderful.

What an eventful 2010 this has been - 2 weeks of Kodaly certification training in early December, the World Choir Games in China and coming back with golds, Vietnam and the 1000 Years of Hanoi celebrations. A new place, a new kitchen, new responsibilities at work, new choirs. My grandfather's passing, renewal of friendships, cutting ties, forging new ones.

I'm home with my parents, just to see the end of the year out and to take a much-needed break for time-out and reflection. So much has happened. And in the year ahead, so much more -will- happen, of that I'm sure.

So, with all that in mind, I made madeleines.

I've never had a madeleine before, but when Shauna posted up her recipe for these honey-spiced gluten-free ones, I just -had- to try it.

Not being in my apartment has its minor disadvantages when it comes to baking. Finding a grater, for instance. The only one I could get hold of was an umpteen-year-old bright green plastic multi-use contraption that served as mandolin, juicer, and grater all in one go (though not at the same time, unless you have four hands.) Suffice to say my orange zest was...somewhat less zest and more mush, and I decided to use the rind of the whole orange to make up for that. I also didn't have my stand mixer with me, so I whipped the sugar and eggs by hand. It was a workout at least!

The batter was a bit sticky and a little stiffer than I thought it would turn out - then again, my eggs weren't as large as asked for, so maybe that was it.



The recipe also said it would make about a dozen large madeleines, so my pan size must have been slightly smaller as I got fifteen out of the batter.



(Yes, my parents' table is red formica-topped. It's a beautiful colour, but it's a bit of a photography challenge at night under flourescent lights.)

The batter had to sit in the fridge for at least three hours or overnight, so I put all the moulds in the fridge, nearly forgot to put plastic wrap over the surface, and let it stay till early this morning. That's also when I discovered that little 'bumps' under the madeleines are desirable, and that you're NOT supposed to cram and flatten the batter into the mould with the back of a plastic spoon, but it was way too late to do anything about it, and I could just hope for the best.



And would you believe, they baked up like a DREAM and came out of the mould as soon as they were tapped. All in all, I think they came out quite well!



They even had that little bump on the underside - it's not very prominent because when I put them out to cool, the rack flattened 'em. Ooops.

But they taste fantastic - light and spiced and just -beautiful-. Thank you Shauna. I'll definitely be making these again!

I also declared that I'd be cooking New Year's Eve Dinner for the family. The menu consisted of roast beef, parsnip and turnip mash, julienned brussel sprouts with apples and carrots with honey, lemon and thyme. I decided to use a combination of Nigel Slater's and Jamie Oliver's roast beef recipes, wing the mash, and adapt the brussel sprouts from how I'd always cooked 'em.

The vegetables came out beautifully!



The beef was a bit too rare for the family (my first time roasting beef, so my estimate of time, even by the recipe, are a bit off), so we sliced it and threw it into the microwave to nuke for a little, but all in all, it was flavourful and deliciously tender.



In the next few days there will be lemon-ginger bars, and perhaps some cookies even.

Here's to you, 2010 - it's been a hard, but good year in many ways. May 2011 bring even better things.

Happy New Year, everyone!

The Art of Red-Braising

I was enticed by pictures of fatty pork.

At least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it, and friends who have known me for a while will know how hysterically funny that statement is. For one, I usually don't gravitate towards anything that boasts excess fat or lard, and for another I don't usually eat belly pork either.

But those gorgeous photos of this recipe! I am a sucker for good photography. I'm an even bigger sucker for good food photography, and the recipe seemed simple enough, and so when I finally caught sight of a NICE big strip of pork belly in the market and I already had most of the spices necessary for making this dish even though I'm terrified of being caramel-splattered after an accident in uni with hot caramel and a glass dish...



Well. The end result was a resounding triumph and the process was amazingly trouble-free and easy, although I thought I could have braised it a bit longer to make the meat more tender. I also thought I might cut down on the amount of oil needed as belly pork already has a huge amount of its own fatty goodness.

It did get me thinking about another dish I'd eaten over the years - Hong Shao Tofu. Having not had it for some years now, I couldn't remember if this was the sort of sauce used for it - there's a Cantonese version that uses a brown sauce instead - but I figured it could do no harm to try this particular way of making it.

So I got to work. I decided to use dried shitake mushrooms for a bit of bite, and firm Chinese tofu since that is sturdier than Japanese tofu and will stand up to long cooking without disintegrating into smithereens.

I saved the soaking water from the dried mushrooms so I could add it to the braise later on for a bit more savoury flavour. I also seared the cubed tofu in a non-stick frying pan first till it was brown on all sides - this helps it keep its shape when it's being stirred around with the pork and the caramel sauce.

The original recipe calls for Shaoxing wine. I don't have Shaoxing wine but I recall seeing somewhere that using mirin (Japanese sweet cooking wine) was an acceptable substitute so that's what I used.

End result after modifications and putting the whole lot of ingredients on to braise: Absolutely, unbelievably GOOD. Even if I had to make it with purely tofu and mushrooms, it would still be excellent since the tofu soaks up the flavours in the braise like a sponge.

It was even better after a night in the fridge; the flavours developed beautifully.

Thank you JS and TS of Eating Club Vancouver! This is a keeper of a recipe for sure!



Red Braised Pork with Seared Tofu and Mushrooms
Adapted from Fuchsia Dunlop's recipe in Revolutionary Chinese Cookbook: Recipes from Hunan Province

1 lb pork belly
Splash of vinegar (for boiling the pork)
1 tbsp. neutral-flavoured oil
2 tbsp. white sugar
1 tbsp. mirin (Japanese sweet cooking wine)
3/4-inch piece fresh ginger, skin on and sliced
2 star anise
2 dried red chiles
6-8 dried shitake mushrooms
2 blocks of firm Chinese tofu, cubed
1 tsp. neutral flavoured oil (for frying the tofu cubes)
Small piece cassia bark or cinnamon stick
Gluten-free light soy sauce, salt, and sugar
Few pieces scallion greens (if you have them)

1. Soak the mushrooms in hot water for about 20 minutes, or till soft. Squeeze them out and slice them, but don’t make them too thin. You can discard the stems, but I usually use them; in a braise like this, they’ll get soft anyway. Save the water used for soaking the mushrooms and set aside.

2. Fry the tofu cubes in the 1 tsp. of oil – I used a non-stick pan, so that cut down the amount of oil I needed. You might require a little more if you’re using a regular frying pan, or if you have a wok. Make sure the cubes are at least brown on two sides; I tend to fry them on all sides to be sure. This prevents the tofu from breaking up into mush when you add it to the pork-and-caramel mixture later. Set aside.

3. Plunge the pork belly into a pan of boiling water, add the splash of vinegar and simmer for 3-4 minutes until partially cooked. Remove and, when cool enough to handle, cut into bite-size chunks.

4. Heat the oil and sugar in a wok over a gentle flame until the sugar melts, then raise the heat and stir until the melted sugar turns a rich caramel brown. Add the pork and stir till well-coated. Add in the tofu cubes, stir to coat and splash in the mirin.

5. Add the reserved soaking water from the mushrooms, and top it up with enough water to just cover the pork, along with the mushrooms, ginger, star anise, chillies and cassia. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer for 40-50 minutes.

6. Towards the end of cooking time, turn up the heat to reduce the sauce, and season with soy sauce, salt, and a little sugar to taste. You might need to braise it a little longer than actual cooking time to reduce the sauce to the thickness you want. Add the scallion greens just before serving.

Note:
I forgot the scallions of course. I always forget SOMETHING. But the dish tasted great even without it, although the greenery would have added a lovely touch of colour to the finished recipe.

Tofu Batons and Pea Shoots

I've mentioned Beyond the Great Wall by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid in a previous post. I love this book. Not only does it give some wonderful insights into the less-commonly known ethnicities of China, but a great many of the recipes are inherently gluten-free and require little to no modification at all.

There were a few recipes I'd been itching to try since getting hold of the book. The Tofu Batons with Hot Sesame Dressing was one of them. It looked easy and as it turned out, it -was- easy to put together but I ran into problems with overly soggy tofu batons as per following the recipe's instructions to put them into boiling water, submerge, and cover for 30 minutes. A lot of it turned into mush, not all of which could be dried out even with a good hot frying in the wok.

I was skeptical of taste, given the dressing was rather mouth-puckeringly sour when I put it together. Once it was poured over the tofu batons however, the combination mellowed out the sharpness into something amazingly comforting and smooth. Fantastic. I'd definitely make this again, but I think I'll be soaking the batons in cold water for 30 minutes instead of boiling them. It should help with the sogginess problem.

The other recipe that I'd been dying to try out was the Pea Tendril salad, except pea tendrils proved remarkably elusive. It wasn't until yesterday that I got hold of 2 packs of pea shoots (the recipe wanted the tougher pea tendrils, but I'd only seen those in a vegetable shop near my workplace - and that was 2 hours and 2 buses to get to, so I just went with pea shoots instead.) Given this is me, I accidentally changed the recipe through misreading the instructions, of course. The recipe called for frying the shallots till they were pale to medium brown; I just fried them till they were translucent and soft. Then again, I never really liked crispy shallots, so I think I liked the end product a lot better.

This is a tart, salty salad with very sharp, clean flavours. I thought it might be too tart for my liking, but I was surprised to find that it was pretty addictive - I kept going back for seconds and thirds till I finished half the plate all on my own. Yep, definitely another keeper.




Tofu Batons with Hot Sesame Dressing
from Beyond the Great Wall by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid

Serves: 4

3 ounces tofu sticks (4-6 sticks)
1 tbls peanut oil
1 tsp roasted sesame oil
1/2 tsp chile pepper flakes, or to taste
1 tbls rice vinegar, or to taste
2 tbls gluten-free soy sauce, or to taste
1/2 tsp sugar
1/2 cup coriander leaves

Bring 2 inches of water to boil in a medium pot. Add the tofu sticks, breaking them if necessary to make them fit, and use a wooden spoon to push them under the surface of the water. Turn off the heat. Weight down the sticks with a plate that fits inside the pot to keep them submerged. Cover and let sit for 30 minutes.

Remove the plate and drain the tofu well. Cut the sticks into 2-inch lengths, trimming off and discarding any tough bits. Cut the sticks lengthwise into half or into quarters, to make narrow batons. Set aside.

Heat a wok or wide heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the peanut oil and sesame oil. When the oil is hot, add the chile flakes and tofu batons, and stir-fry for 2 minutes, stirring and pressing on the batons to expose them to the hot surface of the pan.

In a small bowl, combine the vinegar, gluten-free soy sauce, and sugar, and whisk well, then pour over the tofu batons. Stir-fry briefly to distribute the flavours, then bring the liquid to a boil Immediately lower the heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer for 5 minutes.

Turn out into a wide shallow bowl. Taste and add a little more gluten-free soy sauce or vinegar if you wish. Sprinkle on the coriander leaves and serve warm, or at room temperature.

Note:
Next time I'd soak the tofu batons in cold water and just leave them to sit for 30 minutes instead. Less soggy that way. Also, I didn't have coriander so I used sliced green onions, and it tasted just fine. No chile flakes either, all I had was Japanese red pepper, so I used that.




Pea Shoot Salad
Adapted from Pea Tendril Salad in Beyond the Great Wall by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid

Serves: 4 as a salad or side dish

1 lb pea shoots

Dressing:
2 tbls rice vinegar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp roasted sesame oil
2 tbls peanut oil or vegetable oil
3 thinly sliced shallots

Wash the pea shoots well, drain, and set aside.

Place the vinegar, the 1 tsp salt and the sesame oil in a small cup and stir well; set aside.

In a large pot, bring 3 quarts salted water to a boil. Toss in the pea shoots and stir to immerse them in the water. Cook for 3 minutes, or until just tender to the bite - because pea shoots vary considerably in terms of toughness, the cooking time may vary a little. Drain thoroughly in a colander and refresh briefly under cold water, then drain and press out excess water. If the pea shoots are very long, cut them into about 1 inch lengths so that they will be easier to eat. I didn't bother, with mine. Press out the excess liquid again.

Place the pea shoots on a wide serving plate. Stir the sesame oil dressing again, pour it over the shoots, and toss gently to coat.

Place a wok or heavy skillet over high heat. When it is hot, add the peanut or vegetable oil and swirl gently, then add the sliced shallows, lower the heat to medium-high and fry until the shallots are translucent and soft. Use chopsticks or cooking spatula to keep the shallots moving so they don't burn. Take the pan off the heat and pour the oil and shallots over the pea shoots. Add a dash of cayenne pepper to taste.

Toss the shallots, pepper and pea shoots well, then serve.

Note:
I misread the directions and wound up tossing all the oils together for the dressing, rather than saving the peanut oil for the shallots later. This resulted in me having to add about half a tablespoon extra oil into the frying pan. It was perhaps a bit greasier, end result, but still just as good. The original called for frying the shallots till pale or medium brown, but I don't like them that way so much. This way, I think they're sweeter and still maintain their lovely purple colour.