If you’re like me, and you like fish, you’ve probably had a dish like this many times before at an Asian restaurant (Thai, Malaysian or Chinese), where they serve the whole fish (with head and tail intact), usually fried, and then covered in a delicious sauce. Well, here, I present to you the simple and healthy version–a whole steamed fish covered in soy sauce and topped with tasty garnishes. There is very little prep involved and so few ingredients, that this is going to be my goto fish dish from now on.
the snapper lies directly on top of the aromatics on a plate placed on top of the steaming rack
Steaming is a great way to cook food without fat, and if you buy a small metal rack, you can turn your wok into a steamer very easily. It’s also a very quick way to cook, and you will know that your fish is ready when it’s eye pops out in about 7-8 minutes. Using aromatics is a must when steaming, to impart a subtle flavor into whatever you are cooking. In this particular recipe, the addition of the tangerine peel makes for a nice, citrusy-fresh flavor.
Meanwhile, you make the sauce in another pan by combining the soy sauces (light and dark), rice wine, sugar and sesame oil. Dark soy sauce, which may be purchased at an Asian store, is a little thicker and sweeter than regular soy, and by adding a little sugar, you get that sweet/savory taste that is common in Asian cooking.
My favorite part of this dish, however, has got to be the garnishes. Fresh herbs like cilantro leaves add a lot of flavor as well as making the dish aesthetically pleasing. I added some fresh chopped green chilies for a little heat.
For overall taste, ease of preparation and health, you cannot go wrong with this dish. Try it now at home!
The Recipe
1 whole fish (snapper), about 1 lb.
3 spring onions, cut into thirds
3 slices ginger root
1 small piece tangerine peel, cut into matchsticks
2 tablespoons olive oil
Sauce:
1 teaspoon rice wine
2 tablespoons dark soy sauce
2 tablespoons light soy sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Garnish:
4 spring onions, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon ginger, cut into matchsticks
1 sprig fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
4 green chilies, sliced (optional)
1.) Gut and clean fish under running water. Remove and dry thoroughly.
2.) Half-fill a wok with water and bring to boil. Place a steaming rack in the wok.
Arrange the halved stalks of spring onion, ginger slices and tangerine peel slices on a plate and place the fish on top. Place it on the steaming rack, cover and steam over high heat for 7-8 minutes or until fish is cooked.
3.) Transfer the fish onto a hot greased serving platter, and discard everything else.
4.) Meanwhile, to make the sauce for the fish, heat oil is a small saucepan. Carefully pour in the Sauce ingredients and bring to a boil. Pour the sauce over the fish and garnish with ginger, spring onions and coriander. Serve immediately with steamed rice.
I had not been to San Francisco since the first annual FoodBuzz convention in November 2009, and I was ready to get my grub on. Thanks to all the food TV these days, I had in my mind an image of a place that seemed eerily familiar–an Asian restaurant, off the beaten path, with some very spicy and delicious dishes. Anthony Bourdain or Andrew Zimmern or one of those TV hosts had eaten there, and it looked to be right up my alley. My friend Gabe and his Chinese-American wife Kelly had already chosen a spot for our dinner that night, and as we rolled up to it from dark, nearly deserted surroundings, I could see that this was the place I had pictured in my mind’s eye: “Islamic Old Mandarin,” as its lighted sign proclaimed in English sandwiched between Mandarin and Arabic characters. If there was any place I wanted to eat at tonight, this was the one. I just smiled at my hosts and said, “Great minds think alike.”
Inside the well-lit interior, there were only a few tables. At a large round one, a group of elderly Chinese men shared a Beijing Style hot pot–one similar to what I had just had in Sri Lanka at Juchunyaun Restaurant. Thinly sliced meats and plates of veggies and noodles, which were meant to be cooked in soup broth in the punch-bowl shaped object in the center of the table, gave their meal the air of a real feast. A couple of Chinese girls picked at some stir-fry dishes at another table. The smells were, of course, tremendous, and my mouth was already watering before I even opened the menu.
I must say, I have never seen so much lamb on a Chinese menu, and this must have been the Islamic influence. We ended up getting the stir fried lamb with scallion as well as the boiled lamb with preserved vegetables in a warm pot. We also ordered an onion pancake, the egg plant in spicy garlic sauce, and one of the chef’s specials, a dish that definitely had my interest piqued, the “extremely hot pepper.”
for starters: a scallion pancake and boiled lamb w/ preserved vegetables in warm pot
stir-fried lamb with scallion
Chef's Special: "Extremely Hot Peppers"
Eggplant in spicy garlic sauce
I have not eaten such tasty and flavorful Chinese food in a long time. From the first bite into the layered pancake, which was crunchy 0n the outside and moist within, this was a meal to savor and remember. The lamb warm pot was rich and soothing, and the preserved vegetables gave it a nice sour flavor–almost like sauerkraut. The tender slices of lamb in the lamb with scallions dish practically melted in my mouth, as did the eggplant. And the extremely hot pepper, a dish of different kinds of chilies, chopped up and stir-fried with pieces of egg and slivers of chicken, certainly lived up to its name. As spicy as it was, however, it had a depth of flavor that you do not find in dishes that are meant to scorch your mouth. I think it was the addition of the sichuan peppercorns, which slowly numb your mouth to the capsiacin (i.e. active ingredient) in the peppers, and which also allows you to eat more of the dish. Washed down with a cold Tsing Tao beer, this was a perfect first meal for San Francisco.
the aftermath
Gabe checks out the next table
Gabe and Kelly, who live in the predominantly Asian enclave of Innersunset, pointed out a lot of great places to eat as we drove to Old Mandarin. But Old Mandarin itself has a pretty extensive menu as well, so there will be plenty of new dishes to try the next time around. And there definitely will be a next time!
Colombo has no shortage of Chinese restaurants, most of which serve food with its own particular character, shaped, of course, by local tastes (meaning, it’s much spicier than the run of the mill storefront Chinese in New York or any western city for that matter). It’s also probably nothing like the ‘authentic’ Chinese food you get in China. That’s why Juchunyuan is such a find: It’s a Chinese restaurant in the heart of Colombo that obviously caters to a largely Chinese clientele looking for a true taste of home.
You could call this well-worn establishment a hole-in-the-wall because it’s off the eaten path, but a clean one at that exuding an odd charm. Though not heavy on ambience, the downstairs dining room, with its 4 semi-private booths, is at least spotless and cooled by AC. While upstairs offers additional seating, both times I have been there it was empty (which might have something to do with the waitresses not wanting to carry the large chafing dishes of hot soup up the stairs).
the upstairs dining room
Besides the paucity of décor, the first thing you notice upon sitting down is the gas burner built right into the center of your table, definitely an omen of good things to come. Also of interest is the single-page, double-sided menu that flashes Chinese characters at you (another good sign), but fret not as closer examination reveals tiny English subtitles written beneath. And anyway, didn’t you always want to know how to write “pig’s heart” or “sheep’s stomach” in Mandarin?
Once again, don’t be intimidated by the menu, because at least one of the waitresses speaks passable English and she will help you out with ordering.
“So how do we do this?” I shamelessly blurted. I might be a gastronaut, but never professed to being a know-it-all.
Our helpful waitress, Lena, directed our attention to the other side of the menu, which lists the different kinds of soup available. They’ve got fish, chicken, “pig bone” and even duck with beer among the offerings. You can order it spicy or not. We settled on the “three sort sea food with short rib soup,” extra spicy, of course.
Soup's On!
Soup is not only the starter here, but the star, as well as the medium in which you will cook your meal. That’s right; if you thought the chef was going to do all the work, guess again. This is, after all, not just any restaurant, but a “Resraurant” as the sign proclaims.
Sign by Scooby Doo
The flip side of the menu features a dizzying array of ingredients. In addition to the afore-mentioned offal, they also have more normal stuff like prawns, cuttlefish, beef, mutton, and vegetables such as mushrooms, kelp, cabbage and kan kun.
“What’s good, today?” I asked Lena. She recommended the prawn wonton.
“We’ll have an order of those.”
I also got up to peek at the table next door, filled with a group of Japanese men happily swilling cold beers with their hot soup, and decided on getting some prawns, white cabbage, kan kun, and noodles.
“That should be enough for now.” I said, thinking about the “three sort seafood and short rib” that came with the soup.
Lena disappeared and reemerged with our utensils, an array of tools fit for us budding soup chefs, which included a tiny soup bowl and porcelain soup spoon, two metal serving spoons, one with holes; a fork; and a set of chopsticks. She flitted back and forth behind the scenes, returning with a delectable assortment of condiments—fresh chopped garlic and cilantro, peanut sauce, soy sauce, and a thick chili oil.
condiments and raw ingredients for the soup
“Wow! This is getting more interesting by the minute,” I said to my cousin Cane, who had turned me onto this place, though he had only eaten some fried rice on his initial visit. Cane was visibly excited because like most Sri Lankans, this was an entirely new dining experience for him.
Lena appeared next with a large stainless steel bowl of soup, whose broth was practically bright red from the preponderance of chilies. It’s good to see that extra spicy meant exactly that. She rested it on the gas burner in the center of the table, and turned on the flame. Then the stuff we ordered started appearing on the table in quick succession, raw, of course. Our mouths sufficiently watering by now, we wasted no time, sliding a couple jumbo prawns (with head and tail intact) into the mix along with whole leaves of white cabbage, some freshly made prawn wontons, and kan kun (stems and all).
Cousin Cane ready to get into some soup
While this stuff quickly cooked in the bubbling cauldron, it was time to assemble our bowls of soup. First in went the pre-cooked rice noodles, over which I ladled several spoonfuls of the spicy broth. Next I added a bit of all of the condiments, and finally some of the now cooked vegetables, wontons and a rosy red prawn. I gave it a little stir and sipped a spoonful of the broth.
“Wow! Flavor” I said as both mine and Cane’s eyes seemed to light up at the same time.
YUM!!!
The broth alone was something worth writing home about with its three kinds of seafood and pork ribs. We found out after the meal that the seafood in question was actually dried squid, oysters, and mussels, which had been imported from China, according to Lena. As far as I knew, you couldn’t get this kind of stuff in Colombo.
The "three sort seafood" flavoring the broth -- dried oysters, squid, and mussels
More raw ingredients went into the broth and fished out cooked into our bowls. After much slurping and chewing it seemed like we actually made a small dent in the huge chafing dish of soup. But this was clearly a meal fit for a minimum of four people.
So we went away happy and satisfied with our taste buds thoroughly titillated, and resolved to bring the rest of Cane’s family to help us conquer the next bowl of soup (and next time we did go for the pig’s heart and cow’s stomach). Juchunyuan proved itself a marvelous and surprising find in the middle of Colombo, and if you ever find yourself with curry-fatigue, it’s got just the tonic for you.
Even though Chinese food was the first Asian cuisine embraced by Americans, it has steadily succumbed to the fierce competition and more ‘exotic’ flavors of Vietnamese, Malaysian, and Thai. Your standard storefront Chinese joint might be passe, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some great Chinese dishes to be had–especially when you get to neighborhoods like Flushing, Queens, where restaurants tend to specialize in regional cooking.
My favorite province would have to be Sichuan, a region in southwest China known for it’s spicy cuisine and prodigious use of chilies. Of course you’ve heard of the legendary Sichuan Hot Pot, a steaming cauldron of red chilies into which tofu, meats, and vegetables are dipped and eaten. Another fairly well-known Sichuan dish would be kung pao chicken, which I love for its burnt chilies and roasted peanuts. This is one fast and easy dish that you don’t need to leave home to savor.
special ingredients: light soy sauce, fujian cooking wine, chinxiang vinegar, dark soy
Provided, of course, that you have all the ingredients at hand. There are a few special items you’ll need for this one that will require a prior trip to the Asian store, but once you have them on hand, quick and tasty stir-frys are right there within your reach. (And it goes without saying that you have a wok.)
Sichuan chilies & peppercorns
Though I have tried many different recipes for kung pao, this one comes from Fuchsia Dunlop’s excellent cookbook, Land Of Plenty: Authentic Sichuan Recipes Personally Gathered In The Chinese Province of Sichuan. Dunlop explored Sichaun province and its cuisine like I did Sri Lanka’s, and her efforts certainly paid off well.
Gong Bao (Kung Pao) Chicken
2 boneless chicken breasts (about 2/3 pound)
3 cloves of garlic and an equivalent amount of fresh ginger
5 scallions (white parts only)
1 green bell pepper, chopped (optional) [my addition]
2 Tbsp. peanut oil
a generous handful of dried red chilies (at least 10)
1 Tsp. whole Sichuan pepper
2/3 cup roasted unsalted peanuts
marinade: 1 tsp. Shaoxing rice wine or medium dry sherry
1 1/2 tsp. potato flour or 2 1/4 tsp. cornstarch
1 Tbsp. water
sauce: 3 tsp. sugar
3/4 tsp. potato flour or 1 1/8 tsp. cornstarch
1 tsp. dark soy sauce
1 tsp. light soy sauce
3 tsp. Chinkiang or black Chinese vinegar
1 tsp. sesame oil
1 Tbsp. chicken stock or water
1.) Cut the chicken as evenly as possible into 1/2 inch strips and then cut these into small cubes.
2.) Peel and thinly slice the garlic and ginger, and chop the scallions into chunks as long as their diameter (to match the chicken cubes). Snip the chilies in half or into 2-inch sections. Wearing rubber gloves, discard as many seeds as possible.
3.) Combine the sauce ingredients in a small bowl—if you dip your fingers in, you can taste the sweet-sour base of the gong bao flavor.
4.) Season the wok, then add 2 Tbsp. of oil and heat over high flame. When the oil is hot but not yet smoking, add the chilies and Sichaun pepper and stir fry briefly until they are crisp and the oil is spicy and fragrant. Take care not to burn the spices (you can remove the wok from the heat if necessary to prevent overheating).
5.) Quickly add the chicken and fry over a high flame, stirring constantly. As soon as the chicken cubes have separated, add the ginger, garlic, and scallions and continue to stir fry for a few minutes until they are fragrant and the meat is cooked through (test one of the larger pieces to make sure).
6.) Give the sauce a stir and add it to the wok, continuing to stir and toss. As soon as the sauce has become thick and shiny, add the peanuts, stir them in, and serve.
Variations: This same dish can be made with pork or shrimp; and cashews or walnuts can be substituted for peanuts.
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Paneer
