Allotments Against Terrorism

I have stated in the strap line of my blog that I am an allotmenteer which to some may conjure up the image that I belong to a strike force of volunteer horticulturalists not too dissimilar to the boy scouts. Need to know when your earlies will be ready, how to stop cabbage white fly or cotton root rot, whether you can throw citrus waste in your compost or how to stop badgers from nibbling your corn crop? Have no fear the Allotmenteers are here, we are here to help!

Actually all it means is that I have an allotment and have rudimentary knowledge of how to grow vegetables and a little bit of fruit, if you ever are looking for proper advice or expertise then ask this man. I was lucky enough to get our one 3 years ago, having made a phone-call and a visit to the site, which is five minutes away from our house, to have a quick chat with a man named Bert. Clever man was Bert, who I found out later was the allotment warden, as he spent some time showing me around the place, explaining the rules and regulations, how much the fees would be and where you could get manure from before stopping off at his prize plot. He stooped down by his strawberry plants, plucked off a couple of big red juicy ones and rinsed them under a nearby tap. "Try one of these, much better than the rubber ones you get at the supermarket" he said and he wasn't wrong, it was amazingly juicy and tasted beautiful. Bert then showed me the plot that was available which was huge and resembled a jungle with a monstrous bramble bush at it's centre."That's the last one left" he said. "Ah that looks like a lot of work" I replied but of course I was already hooked, thinking of it's potential with all the lovely things I could grow, like potatoes and stuff. So I signed up there and then, and then called my Dad (who exclaimed "f**ing hell" when he saw it) and so it began, a summer of profuse sweating, swearing and sore backs.

We are two and a half years down the line now and the principles of that first summertime effort still applies, keeping an allotment is bloody hard work and it is very time consuming. As such the plot hasn't quite come up to it's full potential but I can happily state that the vegetables that we have cultivated have always tasted ten times better than what you could get at the supermarket. I do sometimes wonder if this is psychosomatic but still the aforementioned potatoes dug straight from the ground and plainly boiled are just so much more creamier than their plastic wrapped counterparts which is why we will gladly slog our guts out with a fork and spade. From this season on though we are going to try and do things a bit differently ie. keep on top of things and not break our backs every four weeks. The whole patch has been rotavated, the spuds are in the ground and we have varieties of cabbage, beans, courgettes, tomatoes, sweetcorn, spinach, peas, onions ready to go in. The fruit patch is fairly well established with bushes containing raspberries, gooseberries, redcurrant, white currant, figs and rhubarb (except that's a vegetable isn't it?), plus we're putting in some strawberries. Good times lie ahead on the cooking front and I'll be writing more in this blog about the allotment and the produce we get so ideas and suggestions will be appreciated.

Alas Bert isn't with us anymore but with this new found enthusiasm, I reckon the old boys he left in his place as wardens aren't going to know what's hit them this summer. Or will they? Recent events suggest that they are far more on top of the game than I give them credit for for and probably far more than Bert had ever intended. Perhaps before I go any further that I should explain that as with any well run gardening society, our allotment has a committee to regulate the rules and regulations that are needed to run the running of an allotment. The most recent motion passed by the committee was to change the lock on the front gate and install a sign that the gate needed to be LOCKED AND SHUT AT ALL TIMES. "Oh no, so what we've been getting our veg pinched then?" I thought. But on investigation, it seems that the main reason had been "to prevent terrorists from stealing fertiliser from the main shed, we'd read reports in the paper that Al-Qaeda are raiding allotments to create bombs".

May I just say I think this is fantastic, Captain Mainwaring and his gang are alive and well.

Bread of Heaven

So after weeks of feeding, peering, sniffing, tasting and head scratching, the day of reckoning had come, it was finally time use my starter to bake some sourdough bread and see if all the effort had been worthwhile. The process of the baking according to St Sam and Sam is laborious in itself, taking 3 stages of preparation and roughly 18 hours from to start finish and it was during this last drawn out stretch, that the doubts began to creep back in.

The first stage takes place the night before, you have to take 450gms of strong white flour, 700mls of water and 250gms of your sourdough starter, mix it together in a bowl until smooth, cover and then leave until morning. Funnily enough that night I dreamt that I was in a huge supermarket where the only thing sold was bags and bags of flour, row upon row, aisle after aisle. I've read that dreaming of flour denotes a frugal but happy life so perhaps it was a good omen although f you buy the stuff in your dreams then apparently its a sign of an approaching illness. I can't remember going through the checkout though so I think we were going to be safe.

In the morning you proceed to the second stage where hopefully the mixture will have risen a little bit and yes mine did so we were on track. Adding a further 450gms of white flour and mixing in 3 teaspoons of fine sea salt you then beat the dough with your hands for 5-10mins until it becomes smooth and elastic. Recalling a free dvd pinched from a food magazine years ago, I went for the Richard Bertinet method of kneading where you lift the dough mixture with your fingers, flip and slam it back down and repeat. I'm not sure if it was entirely necessary and it is a noisy way of doing things especially at 6:30 in the morning but I wanted to ensure that I got as much air within the dough as possible. Leave for 10 mins and then give it another pummelling, after which you divide the dough and fill two oiled loaf tins (in my case one loaf tin, one casserole pot) just over the half way mark and dust with flour. Cover the tins with tea-towels and then leave for 3-5 hours to prove, depending on the room temperature and activity of the starter the dough should rise to just over the top. It was shortly after this point that my headache started.

After an hour, I had a quick peek under the towels and saw that nothing had happened, the dough was just sitting there, flat and lifeless. I thought that perhaps it wasn't warm enough so I switched the oven on then I checked half an hour later, still nothing so I turned up the floor heating we are lucky to have in the kitchen. 10 minutes later, still nothing so I turned on the main central heating. 5 mins later, nada, nothing, zilch , zero so I closed the kitchen window. At this point I also decided that to keep continuing to check on the bloody thing was going to drive me up the wall so I popped out on an errand. When I got back after about an hour, I checked again and finally success, the dough was rising. My wife was milling about stripped to her underwear and the babies were sitting around just in their nappies but bloody hell, yes the dough was rising! I left it for the full 5 hours in the end and perhaps it could have risen a bit more but it was light and springy to the touch.

So at stage 3, off the tins went into the oven, heated to 230 degrees centigrade, to be left alone for 30 minutes. After that time is up, the loaves can be taken out of the tins and baked for a further 10 minutes or so to form a nice brown crust. The loaves are then to be left to cool completely, the temptation to carve a slice off when bread has just come out of the oven is always great for me but I managed to resist. The end result? Well St Sam and Sam mention that if the bread has split or cracked in anyway then it hasn't proved enough and mine had but for a first attempt in terms of taste I was very happy. The crust had a nice crunch and the bread was moist and definitely moreish with that distinctive tang. There's still room for improvement, especially when proving as it was a little too heavy in texture, the starter could do with a boost maybe and I could also reduce the salt slightly but with time and tweaking I think I can only get better at baking sourdough. It's just simply satisfying to eat something that you have taken time and care to create, I just hope my heating bill doesn't make me weep too much at the end of the month.

Ant Elope

I have finally begun experiments and writing the last section of the antiquated cookbook on curing meats. I was hell bent on making my own saltpeter, and may yet if I have the pluck to scrape crystals from a pile of manure and use them for food. Then I thought of buying pure potassium nitrate, which is sold both by chemical companies and witchcraft websites. Seriously, for use in spells to calm the ardor of an errant male lover. For the moment I think it should be instacure so maybe readers will be able to follow. My first pastrami we ate this week and it was heavenly - cured, smoked and steamed - but brownish for the lack of nitrates. I'll try it again, though why it has to be red, I'm not sure.

What you see here is not cured, but first a filet of antelope brought to me from out of the blue by the goddess of game. Apparently from Wyoming and fed upon wheat gleanings. They were just lightly browned in butter with a dash of maderia for a pan sauce. And antelope meatballs made from an unidentifiable cut, below. I still have another hunk and was considering corning it following Hank's directions, but I don't think it's anything even vaguely brisketish. Nor have I gotten my package of instacure yet. So who knows? Maybe a fresh sausage.

In the meantime, Happy Pesach. And to close, my recipe for matzoh brie as I only I make it.

Take 2 pieces of egg matzoh and break up into small pieces. Soak in milk for about 5 minutes and drain. Add two eggs, some roughly torn turkey - I told you no one makes it this way - some capers, whole grain mustard, tarragon and bits of cheese (either mozarella or something like swiss). Then scramble in a pan with butter. Who ever tells you it should be a solid pancake shape is an unredeemable heathen. You want to cook it so each piece is separate, and dry and the cheese melted and browned. Then put it in a bowl and eat with chopsticks. I dare you, it is fabulous!

Meat is Murder

Now I consider myself to be a fully fledged carnivore and have been known to scream “I demand to have some flesh!” on several occasions but the meat feast that was presented to me last night left me totally speechless and just a little bit apprehensive. For last night my wife and I went to Buen Ayre, where the men are men and the cows are almost certainly frightened.

Situated in Broadway Market, Hackney (where all the Nathan Barleys have seem to have decamped to from Hoxton) Buen Ayre is an Argentinean restaurant that specialises in steak, steak and more steak. This restaurant seems fairly unassuming from outside, with the interior décor being equally no-frills, but once you set your eyes on the massive barbecue suspended from the ceiling under sizzling hot coals, you immediately get what this place is all about. The grill is loaded with different cuts of meat and sausage and is kept under the eye of a chef who makes it all seem quite effortless. If I had been standing there, sweat would be flying everywhere, over the bar staff and over the customers which would have been very off putting.

We were shown to our table by our waiter, a Bobby Gillespie look-alike who was so spaced out that one suspected he shared the same penchant for narcotics as his name sake. It took a little while for Bobby to get it together but he eventually fought off the fairies dancing on his head and brought the menu over which presented a wide selection of animal protein in various guises with the occasional side salad thrown in. It is at this point that I should have made a note that our hosts Al and Emer (who had been before) were making noises about going straight to the main. But gutso here wanted to kick off with the marinated ox tongue so everyone else followed suit with starters of Serrano ham with palm hearts and empanadas, south America’s answer to the Cornish Pasty. Al then recommended we all go for the parrilladas which is a kind of mixed grill for two served on a brazier.

I think the last time I had a mixed grill was in some Beefeater type fare, where the skinny lamb chop clings desparately to the bone, your sausage is actually a saveloy and the rump is as tough as your old man’s boots but I trusted Al, he likes his meat. Then these two troughs of beef turned up and I thought he had made a mistake. “Alan, you’ve ordered for a wedding banquet you fool! How can we afford this, let alone send it back?”. The girls looked stunned by the spectacle and clutched at their throats nervously. Even Al looked worried and remember he likes his meat. “This does seem to be a bit more than usual” he whimpered but what where we to do? Well of course there was only one thing for it, we would plough straight on and go for it, thus sparing us the humilation of telling Bobby we’d got our order wrong, bugger the cost.

So the verdict? Well the different varieties of steak were indeed very good, cooked medium rare, succulent and tender. The pork sausage was chunky and garlic and the addition of melted provolone cheese added an extra touch of indulgance but it was the black pudding that was a real revelation. By Emer’s own admission of it being the best she’s ever tasted (and coming from Ireland that’s saying something), I’d have to agree. Almost velvet in texture, moist and richly flavoured, I would have been happy to have a plate on the stuff on its own. Except of course I couldn’t have done really, I think the protein overload would have sent me spinning out into the street to pick a fight with a Nathan by flicking the trilby of his head and suggesting that his jeans weren’t tight enough.

With that in mind and the fact that our colons were crying out in agony, we all sensibly stopped at around the halfway mark .When we managed to slow our heartbeats down and finally catch our breaths, Al stretched up his long arm to ask for the bill and a doggy bag figuring that if this meat extravaganza was going to cost us an arm and leg then we’d damn well want to take the leftovers with us. The damage came to under £30 a head which for starters, half a cow, side orders and two bottles of wine was not bad all. It was still perplexing though that we got so much and we could only come to the conclusion that in such a busy restaurant the chef can only keep so much on his barbecue at a time. What with juggling the orders and keeping everything at steady rate of service, there must come a point when he has to off-load or risk overdoing the steak so we must have simply come in at the right time. A good theory when you think about it, at least there no waste and everything goes to the customer.

Either that or all the leftover meat goes to Bobby which would explain everything, the poor guy is so stupefied by his intake of amino acids, he doesn’t even know what planet he’s on.

*So focused was I writing about the food, I forgot to mention the wine as chosen by my good wife was the Finca La Linda, Malbec 2004, from Argentina naturally, of which wines I have little experience of tasting. Still I’d say this was a fine drop which was neither heavy or light going very well with our meal. The menu also points out that its balanced tannins obtained through three months ageing in French oak. I wouldn’t really have a clue about that but I’m learning.

Oh and I forgot my camera : (

The Underground Restaurant

This has been the second time in as many weeks that I have found myself dining out in the wilds of north-west London, namely Kilburn and to be honest it's well off the beaten track for me so what is it about this part of the city that keeps drawing me in? Maybe it's just coincidence, I have been actively pursuing new foodie experiences lately, looking for the unusual in the unlikeliest of places. But maybe it's some kind of destiny and fate is mapping out a culinary journey, pressing me along some predetermined path. Maybe MsMarmitelover can explain as I found myself this Saturday at her vegetarian Underground Restaurant along with my wife and 30 astrologists, believe me serendipity (or whatever you would like to call it) has never been such fun.

I first read about this new trend in the Metro, the main premise being that some foodies are starting to run their own restaurants from the comfort of their own front rooms, charging ahead for a set menu. The "customers" come via word of mouth, blogs, and messageboards with the emphasis on secrecy as it's not strictly legal though there is a paradox here as the more popular they become, the harder it must be to keep a lid on things. MsMarmitelover has been running her one for over two months now and already it must have become what is deemed to be the definitive example of what an underground restaurant should be like. That being a place that provides a deliciously unique and eccentric and joyous experience.

We turned up unfashionably early, I thought it started at 7, not 7:30PM, but luckily the front of house with a withering glance, took pity and ushered us in out of the cold rain. Johnny and Jo, two super cool rockabillies who underneath the surface were actually really friendly, took our coats and handed over a divine cocktail consisting of vodka, cava, and blue curacao caviar (which was created by this process, eat your heart out Heston!). Being the first ones there we had the pick of where to sit, though in a room that was rammed wall to wall with chairs and tables, it was a question of where couldn't you sit but we plumped for centre stage. MsMarmitelover introduced herself and said thanks for the wild garlic we brought like proper teachers pets, before disappearing to do her make-up, for someone who was cooking for 30 plus people she seemed remarkably calm.

By 7:30, the rest of the guests started to come in from the street and with it being an Astrology night, everyone seemed to know or heard of each other. My wife and I were slightly unnerved at this point as our knowledge of the stars and their meanings extends to well, bugger all really so what could we talk about? She's a Taurean, prone to bullish type qualities and I'm Cancerian, and have been known to walk sideways but that's it. Luckily, Johnny steered two guests our way who as it turned out were equally out of depth, Caroline the bubbly book agent and Alfie, the ex-Army officer who couldn't believe there wouldn't be any "bloody meat" served. Even luckier was the fact that they were a great company, again is that provenance I'm detecting here?

After a short while of chatting and nibbling on toasted seeds, the first course came out, a thai coconut and spinach soup which was gorgeous, packed with spice and citrus flavours. Naturally when the pot came out for second helpings, I went steaming in but on reflection I should have held back as I was stuffed halfway through the night. Second course was a pleasant refresher of black belugar lentils with a sliced round of goats cheese. Third was a very decadent slice of gratin dauphinoise in cream, served with pepperonata and a rocket salad dressed with spring shoots. The pepperonata and salad was lovely and fresh but the richness of the dauphinoise did finish me off a bit, perhaps if I hadn't been such a greedy sod with the soup I would have been able to finish it but sadly it defeated me. It was just as well that raspberry air was served up for the fourth course then and again here MsMarmitelover was tipping her hat to the field of molecular gastronomy. Imagine popping a raspberry into your mouth only for it to disappear the minute it touches your tongue, for me this was the cleverest dish of the night. For the fifth and final course we were frogmarched outside to collect a slice of negre en chemise from ChocStar's magical chocolate mobile. What exactly "negre en chemise" is I don't know but it was pure indulgence, if I get to see ChocStar at London's first chocolate festival at South Bank next week, I'll ask her.

By the end of the night, we were absolutely stuffed and it was with heavy hearts and heavy stomachs that we had to leave amid a growing cacophonous atmosphere to catch the train home, I suspect that the night went on into the early hours with people probably forgetting that one of those was getting pinched back from them. It's not often you will go into a stranger's house to sit with other strangers and eat strange food but I couldn't recommend it enough. Keep it secret, keep it safe is a mantra that is running through my head right now, I hope MsMarmitelover can.

Neptune in Aquarius: a lemon vodka, elderflower syrup, lemon juice and blue curacao caviar cocktail

Uranus and Mars in Pisces: Thai lemon grass/coconut/spinach soup using the red chillies and garlic of Mars, splashing down in Uranian Style from the Orient

Pluto in Capricorn: Black beluga lentils topped by a round of goats cheese

Mercury in Aries: Peppery rocket, watercress and spring shoots. Scarlet pepperonata, with cherry tomatoes, capers and green peppercorns

Jupiter in Aquarius: An audacious dish in honour of the Lord of Abundance. Fruity and airy.Add your own optimism. Raspberry/pomegranata/creme de cassis 'air'

Venus retrograde in Aries: venusian chocolate....negre en chemise from Petra Chocstar

Feed Me Seymour

I am so glad that I kept the faith Mr and Mrs Sam Clark. In your hands I do trust and never again will I waver or doubt the words of wisdom that you give. By holding fast and staying true, I believe that I have become a stronger man, a better man. You have shown me the light and emboldened in me a sense that life, in all it's form is precious, unique, beautiful and fizzy on the tongue. Without your guidance, I would have strayed, I would be on the wrong path, I would be lost. And I would have flushed my sourdough starter down the loo.

So the good news is that it seems to have worked, after a long process of feeding and nurturing, the starter is alive and well and ready to use for baking bread. The good indication being that the smell has gone (thank god) and that it's tastes slightly tangy so I'm feeling quite confident, although according to the recipe I do need to keep going for a couple more days. Like a pet I feed it first thing in the morning and last thing at night. This basically means pouring away 200ml of the mix and then adding 100gms of strong white flour and 150mls of water, quite wasteful really but I'm not going in for industrial quantities of of bread. If all goes well, Friday will become "Baking Day" in our house and no longer will we be traipsing to the shop for overpriced loaves filled with additives. Happy days.

The "Monster In The Cupboard" as it affectionately has become known.

100 Recipes Challenge

UPDATE UPDATE! FOUR YEARS LATER! This book wins the GOurmand WOrld Cokbook Awards Best Foreign Cuisine Book in the World. Patience is All. March 2013.

UPDATE: Since many people seem to be looking at this post lately, I thought I'd update. After sitting on the shelf for a few years, I took this texbook to another publisher. (Altamira, now with the title THREE WORLD CUISINES) But that meant I had to do ALL the recipes myself. Happy to say I have just finished them. Not exactly the list I envisioned over 2 years ago, but close. Nor is it 300 recipes either. The majority I've either done many times or have tested in the past months. Keep your eye out spring 2012.

Recently I was given a challenge, well really an assignment, to come up with 100 of the most important recipes from three of the major world cuisines. It's for a textbook for the CIA. The other CIA, exactly. To be called, of course, World Cuisines. I wrote the text, last year, and am now revising bits here and there. The CIA is doing the recipes, but asked me to come up with lists that will match the text.

Italy took me all of yesterday morning, but wasn't too difficult. I picked my favorites. Mexico I did today, and it was much harder. Took me maybe 6 hours or so. And of course I had to browse through cookbooks to jolt my memory. But still fell short of 100. Here's China, done this morning.

If anyone has any further suggestions, I will be happy to take them, and will even thank you in the book! Here's what I have so far in no order whatsoever, nor punctuated.


Italy

lasagna al forno vitello tonnato caponata tortellini in brodo ragù Bolognese pesto Genovese polpettone porchetta ribollita sugo di anatra cotoletta Milanese calamari fritti pizza Margherita
bruscetta/crostini carpaccio stracotto di vitello frittata torta pasqualina focaccia gnocchi di patata polenta tortelli di zucca risotto pollo alla cacciatore ravioli pasticcio di maccheroni bagna cauda
zuppa Pavese supplì al telefono pizzocheri della Valtellina (buckwheat) tagliatelle fagioli all’ucelletto spaghetti carbonara carciofi all Guidia battuta spaghetti con le vongole farinata
cippoline marinate finocchi salad ucelli arrosto insalata Caprese lattuga ripiena melanzane ripiena radicchio al forno fiore di zucchine fritti baccalà all Vicentina pesce spada in umido sardine alla griglia cacciuco anguilla ai ferri scampi fritto misto agnello scottaditto tonno alla marinara (tomato and olives) arista (pork loin) bistecca Fiorentina osso buco saltimboca cotechino bollito misto passatelli insalata di mare grissini Torinesi triglie al cartoccio frico con patata strangolapreti filetto alla Rossini Pesce in saor fegato alla Veneziana Rise e bisi canederli (dumplings) bomba di risa alla Piacentina papardelle sull la lepre fagioli al fiasco bucatini all’Amatriciana fave al guanciale panzanella farsumagru zabaglione funghi trifolati sbrisolona
mostaccioli biscotti tiramisù trippa alla Romana torrone stracciatelle taralli zucchini ripiene
coppa di testa granita pandoro/pannetone amaretti canoli ossi dei morti mostarda di frutta
cotognata (quince)


Mexico

masa for tortillas tacos de Res (beef) pico de gallo chilaquiles salsa of tomatillos (mole verde)
totopos (chips) guacamole cochinita pibil quesadillas quesadillas con huitlacoche nopalitos
burritos (flour tortillas) chimichangas (fried) menudo carnitas (pork) pollo encacahautado (peanut sauce) mole de almendras segueza (stewed rabbit and corn) pozole gorditas de chili con queso churros chocolate atole mixiotes (chicken wrapped in maguey leaves or banana, steamed)
buñuelos sopaipillas camarones al mojo de ajo pepitas tamales de puerco tamales con queso
carne asada escabeche (fish) ceviche (raw) cabrito (barbacoa) aquas frescas (jamaica, limón)
capirotada papas y chorizo picadillo (gr. beef w/ raisins, olives, almonds) semitas (rolls)
arroz con pollo arroz rojo huevos revueltos con chorizo mole poblano con guajalote (turkey)
frijoles en olla frijioles refritos chicarrónes sopa de tortilla empanadas enchiladas verdes chalupas with shredded chicken chili relleños sopes verdolagas (purslane) for tacos lengua estofado for tacos albóndigas chalupas Poblanas (masa canoes) fajitas sopa de lima (Yucatan) flan margaritas
sopa de fideos pan dulce chapulines (fried grasshoppers) papadzules (tortilla w/ egg and pumpkin seed sauce) birria (stew w/ pork or beef, chilies) horchata adobo de achiote flautas
chayote con rajas y elote pipián verde w/fish empanadas de platanos quelites (sauteed) calabacitas con chiles verdes jicama w/ chili and lime huevos rancheros sopa Xochitl (squash blossoms) enchiladas verdes de mariscos red snapper veracruzano (huachinango?) ropa vieja
tres leches cake pan de muerto turron de Alicante esquites (corn on cob) caldo Tlapeño (Jalisco)
champurrado (chocolate atole) rosca de reyes huraches (stuffed cactus)


China

baozi and mantou xiaolongbao steamed pork dumpling from Shanghai wonton soup Chao Mian (fried noodles) la mian (pulled noodles) fan (rice steamed) Fried Rice (Chao fan) Peking Duck (Beijing Op) and panckaes (Bok Bang) Tea Smoked Duck (zhang cha ya zi) Kung Pao Shrimp (Kung Pao Ming Har) Kung Pao Chicken (gong bao ji ding) Drunken Chicken (Joi Gai) (Zoy Gai)
Moon Cakes Tai Bai chicken (tai bai ji) Chinese Broccoli, stir fried Ma Po Doufu Mu Shu Pork (Muk See Yuk) Red Cooked Pork (Jau Yau Tai Pong) (hong shao rou) Sichuan Beef (Chau Ngau Yuk) Fried Whole Red Snapper Buddha’s Delight Shark Fin Soup Sichuan Hotpot (si chuan huo guo) Beggar’s Chicken (Hot Yee Gai) Jook/Congee Spare Ribs (Siu Pai Guat) Hangzhou Braised Pork Belly (Kau Yuk) Jellyfish (Hoi Jit Pei) Shrimp Ha Gau Dumplings Pork Siu Mai Dumplings
Glutinous Rice Dumplings with pork (Tong Yuen) 1000 Year Old Eggs Steamed Egg Custard
Stir Fried Asparagus with Shrimp (Lo Suun Chow Ha) Claypot Braised Seafood Rice Bundles (Hom Zoong) Bok Choy stir fried spring rolls fung jau (chicken feet) loh bak goh (turnip cake dim sum) scallion pancakes Lion’s Head Meatballs (See Ji Tau) Winter Melon Soup Hot and Sour Soup West Lake Fish (Carp from Hangzhou) Sweet Red Bean Soup Braised Abalone (Bau Yue)
Sesame Balls (w/ glutinous rice flour and bean paste) Sweet and Sour fish Salt Baked Chicken
Lemon Chicken Beef with Oyster Sauce Fermented Bean Curd with Greens Yard Long Beans Double Cooked (Sichuan) Singapore Noodles (rice) Ants Climbing Trees (Sichuan) ma yi shang shu Wheat Noodle Soup (Char Siu) Gai Seung Tong (Chicken Stock) Bamboo Shoots with Pork
Stir Fried Egg and Tomatoes (Fan Qie Chao Dan) Mao-Style Red Cooked Pork from Hunan
Twice Cooked Pork (Hui Guo Rou) Stir Fried Water Spinach (Chao Kong Xin Cai) Guo Tiao (Fried crullers) pickled vegetables (si chuan pao cai) dan dan noodles (dan dan mian)
pot stickers (ji zhi guo tie) bang bang chicken (guai wei ji si or bang bang ji si) deep fried peanuts (you su hua ren) Tofu with fish fragrance (yu xiang dou fu) Cross the Bridge Rice Noodles (Yunnan) Bai Yun Zhu Shou (White Cloud pig’s feet) Lao Po Bing (Lo Por Bang) Winter Melon Pastry Shanghai Wine Chicken Peking Beef Heng Yang Spicy Scallops