Phoenix Palace does good Dim Sum

BBQ pork puff pastry
As a child who tried resisting all things Chinese - violin lessons, the Last Emperor, belching at dinner - there was one thing that attached me like an umbilical cord to my culture.

Thank God for dim sum, without which I might have been lost to cheeseburgers.

Xiao long bao - Shanghai dumplings with pork
Yum cha, that Cantonese tea-house tradition during which dim sum is served, is for the greedy. One is never full, and there is always more. Order as many of those small dishes as you possibly can, and talk loudly. With your mouth full.

The traditional time for yum cha is midday, Sunday, when all the aunties get together and “wah!” at how tall you are, how pale you are, how fat you are now - it’s a sign of family.

Octopus patties with vinaigrette
Lunch is elevated from a meat-and-two-veg affair to being the excited heart of the Chinese community. The meal is a sequence of rituals. There are rules you should learn. Serve tea to others before yourself. Tap fingers on the table to thank those pouring tea into your cup - a gesture not, as my friend thought, a sign of impatience or atrocious manners. Cock the teapot lid to show that the teapot needs refilling.

Stir fried choi sum and turnip patties with XO sauce
If you can successfully navigate the ritual of yum cha, you warrant inclusion. Golden Palace in Harrow, the hub of the Chinese community in the suburbs of northwest London, had been the scene of many dramas before it closed down. It was where boyfriends were first taken to meet the family, where celebrations and commiserations were held. My parents judged on whether guests would gutsily try that chicken’s foot. Or at least laugh if they didn’t.

Chickens' feet with black bean sauce - a childhood favourite
There is no more Golden Palace, sadly. But, keeping things palatial, our alternative is Baker Street’s Phoenix Palace, which is consistently delicious and does all the traditional dishes, like char siu bao and siu mai, but (refreshingly) innovates too. The sort of restaurant you might see in Hong Kong, the huge familial place has a soundtrack of chopsticks clacking in hungry fervour under the chat and you may very well find yourself near Chinese grannies seated by their begrudging but respectful iPod-wielding grandsons for their big Sunday lunch.

Look out for me if you’re ever there, and say hello. I shall be proffering cartilaginous chicken’s feet with my chopsticks to see if you're worthy of company.

Vietnamese spring rolls

Suckling pig with jelly fish

Grilled chicken gyoza

Mixed seafood crispy noodles



Phoenix Palace
5 Glentworth Street, London NW1 5PG
Tel: 020 7486 3515

Fuchsia Dunlop Interview at Bar Shu

Chinese food authority and writer Fuchsia Dunlop talks junk food, women chefs and the cookery school back in her heartland of Chengdu

Photograph by Patrizia Benvenuti
“Average Chinese takeaway contains equivalent of a glass of fat”: the Daily Mirror headline informatively tells us in August. This is the backdrop that Fuchsia Dunlop, award-winning food writer, is working against. Easy slurs on the reputation of Chinese food, preconceptions of artery-clogging meals, a historical association with fast food and junk that has been difficult to shake off.

Despite these perceptions, Dunlop is still lauded as one of the main ambassadors and heroes of authentic Chinese cooking. Both academic and accessible in her approach, her journey from novice to expert becomes ours when reading her acclaimed book Sichuan Cookery which sits proudly in Observer Food Monthly’s top 10 best cookbooks and more recently into The Independent’s 50 best cookbooks.

So, why is Chinese food so ubiquitous yet so misunderstood? Dunlop believes this is down to being one of the earliest immigrant cuisines in the country.

“Chinese restaurants were starting to pop up more than 100 years ago.” Dunlop explains, “But Brits were very conservative in their tastes so [the Chinese] adapted the food and dumbed it down.

“Chinese food was handicapped from coming very early and I don’t think the community has been historically very good at communicating their food. I never understood why they weren’t they giving the good stuff to westerners, and that was because westerners weren’t used to it.”

Dunlop has been partly responsible for an exciting development in recent years - the regionalisation of Chinese food, and restaurants specialising in cuisine from Sichuan or Hunan have been appearing among unvarying Cantonese restaurants and takeaways. As consultant to Soho restaurant, Bar Shu, which in its success has spin off sisters Baozi Inn and Ba Shan (which has just launched its new Hunan menu) she has seen London embracing this regionality.

“When Bar Shu opened, we knew that the Chinese community were dying for a Sichuanese restaurant and had a guaranteed market of Chinese people. And that so many people are going on business to Shanghai, going on holiday to China, makes it easier.”

The audience she writes for may be well travelled and keen to try new things, but there’s no point being too adventurous. “The recipes have to be able to work outside of China so there’s no point writing recipes for bamboo shoots that you can’t get here.”

When I meet her over a pot of chrysanthemum tea in Bar Shu, she is very much the English lady and Cambridge graduate who grew up in Oxford, casually elegant in long white skirt and pearls, graciously apologetic for being slightly late. I’m only slightly put out that she can speak better Chinese than me and read better Chinese than me - the only thing she can’t trump me on is looking more Chinese than me, but then - she has used that to her advantage. As the first Westerner to be taken on by the Sichuan Institute of Higher Cuisine in Chengdu, she has often said that being an outsider gave her the “license to do anything”.

“But there was such a stultifying system in China; nothing would happen unless you made it happen.”

Unafraid by the bureaucracy and layers presented by the Chinese when she was there, she soldiered on with the course, as recounted in her autobiography Shark’s Fin and Sichuan Pepper, learning to read and write Chinese so she could understand the theory behind the cooking, and was only one of two women on the course among 50 men. In a system where women did not generally become chefs in kitchens, and where the provincial government would not let her take her final chef exams, these circumstances have not held her back.

She doesn’t think the number of women chefs in China will change and recounts the time she interviewed a head chef who told her women were just not strong enough. “I said 'HA!' and he said ‘come on then!’ and I made a complete fool of myself. I’ve only really met one female chef running a large kitchen and she’s a really tough cookie.”

She is now collaborating with businesswoman Diane Drey in designing the program for a cookery school back in her alma mater in Chengdu. It’s a project that lets her pass on the knowledge she so obsessively learnt when she was out there over fifteen years ago.

“I’m committed to the writing and communicating so it’s very complimentary to be working with Diane who loves the organising side of things.”

The school runs over two weeks, and mimics the intensity she originally experienced. The students are shown key skills and classic Sichuanese dishes to cook in the morning, and recreate them in the afternoon. And it’s a huge immersion into the culture - not just in the learning but eating at the local restaurants and spending time in the Chengdu so evoked in Shark’s Fin.

With more interest in real Chinese food Dunlop may well see those headlines change for the better. “What’s so completely mad is that most people in this country think that Chinese food is unhealthy and junky.

“One of the things that occurred to me more than anything else in China was how healthily people ate. The Mediterranean diet is held up as the ideal. Why not the Chinese diet?”

Cooking School in China
Course dates for Autumn: 24th October 2010 - November 5th 2010
Course dates for Spring: March 13th 2011 - March 25th 2011


Fuchsia Dunlop’s Chinese Restaurant picks in London

"When I was reviewing for Time Out I use to go to lots of places but now I’ve just got my favourites. Chinatown is not always the best place to eat."

Hunan: 51 Pimlico Road, London SW1W 8NE
“It’s lovely, very good, although I haven’t been for a while.”

Phoenix Palace: 5 Glentworth Street, London NW1 5PG

Bar Shu: 28 Frith St, London W1D 5LF
Baozi Inn: 25 Newport Court, Chinatown, London, WC2H 7JS
“I come to Bar Shu. And Baozi Inn, obviously. I LOVE that place.”

Royal China: 30 Westferry Circus, London, E14 8RR
“My favourite place for Dim Sum. The food is heavenly.”

Royal China Club: 40-42 Baker Street, London, W1U 7AJ
“A good place to splash out. I don’t often go because the ordinary Royal China is so damn good.”

Purple Sweet Potato: Climbing the Purple Mountain

Behold the purple sweet potato - as exciting as a purple carrot and destined to have the alarming effects of beetroot.

Though the colour may be as rich as a Cadbury’s wrapper, the flesh is not so sweet. We had it mashed - boiled then buttered, as was recommended to me, but the consistency was slightly chalky and flavour blander than a normal sweet potato. I would think roasting would intensify the sweetness, so a dry roast whole then mashed, or roasted wedges with a touch of honey might be the ticket next time.

Apparently this exotic thing will be hitting the shelves under the name ‘Purple Mountain’. The potato is American, but like me, its origins lie in China. If you’re tempted to try it - let me know what you make, and whether you think mashed is the best way to go.

Recipe: Stir-Fried Beef with Broccoli

It’s been a long day. Today I officially called time on a six year career in advertising. I also got an amazing haircut where I was served a bottle of Prosecco. Today is not a normal day.

All I know is there is a juicy rump waiting for me in the fridge and a friendly head of broccoli and I don’t want to spend time messing with it. This is a classic supper - reassuring and damn simple.


Very Quick After-Work Beef Supper
Serves 2

Slice a nice piece of rump steak (about 300g) across the grain into strips about 2 mm thick. Marinate in a tablespoon of light soy sauce, half a tablespoon of Shaoxing wine, a few drops of sesame oil, a few drops of dark soy sauce, a teaspoon of sugar and a teaspoon of cornflour. Leave for at least 15 minutes.

In the meantime, start putting on the rice to cook (white, long grain would be best).

Cut a broccoli into small florets, and blanch in boiling salted water for about 2 minutes until just cooked. The broccoli needs to be vibrant green and still got a satisfying bite to it.

Slice either 3 shallots or a small onion into strips, finely chop 2 garlic cloves and a small knob of ginger. Heat groundnut oil in a wok on a high heat. Throw in the onions, garlic and ginger, and fry until smelling incredible and before they turn brown.

Add in the beef, and mix quickly. Brown the beef until just cooked - I like mine a tiny bit pink inside. Add a few drops of oyster sauce (optional), more soy sauce (dark and light), Shaoxing wine and sesame oil, then mix in the broccoli. Fry until all mixed in and heated through.

Serve with rice.

Variations
if you want heat, just crumble in some chilli. If you fancy peppers, fry it in first. I usually like mine with spring onions.

Wholesomeness. Recipe for Marinated Minced Beef and Fat Courgette

Radiant Physalis

So, gardening. Creation and cultivation of life. I can’t bear that sort of responsibility amidst our daily frivolity. Oh, and given that even the supermarket parsley plant is doomed from the moment I choose it, I’ve resigned myself to the knowledge that I’m simply no good at it. My friend Sonia tended to lettuces in Cornwall, nursing them through bruising winds for weekly salads, but I assumed that was just what you did in Cornwall. (I’m slightly scared of the country. The natural silence, the lack of cars, the visible stars. The light pollution I’m used to fills city skies with a comforting gray or a lollipop orange. I fear the dark).

I’ve been following the progress of chef Alex Mackay’s tomatoes with a sort of envy. Every now and then a twitpic will appear of a stripey or purple variety of tomato and I turn green. Especially when he tells us they taste so good that they don’t ‘even need any salt’ but just a ‘brush…[of] Provencal oil and very thinly sliced basil.’
Have a look here and here and here judge for yourself.
So very wholesome. I like to admire from afar.

To me, an edible garden is ever so alien, but the absolute ideal. Decorative and full of food. When I popped to my parents last weekend I was astounded by what they’d produced and began to nurture a hope that latent gardening genes will reveal themselves when I grow up. There were…

Incipient Tomatoes

Physalis


Fat Slob Courgette and Baby Courgette


Courgette Flowers


Goji Berries - Good dried and in soups, but equally tasty fresh with honey


Blueberries


I came away from berry-nibbling and with an armful of fat courgette (overgrew as my parents went on holiday and forgot about it). It would waddle if it walked. I have vowed to start small and really look after that parsley plant next time. Baby steps.

Here’s a recipe for the fat courgette. The base of which is similar to the classic Chinese dish ‘Ants climbing trees’.

Marinated minced beef with fat courgette


Serves 4
500g minced beef or pork
Half a fat courgette - diced into large chunks
Sunflower/vegetable oil

Marinade
2 tablespoons Shaoxing wine
2 tablespoons Light Soy Sauce
1 tablespoon Sesame Oil

3 bulbous spring onions - finely chopped
3 fat garlic cloves - finely chopped
Knob of ginger - finely chopped
1 dried birds-eye chilli (optional)

Sauce
2 tablespoons Shaoxing wine
2 tablespoons Light soy sauce
1 tablespoon sesame oil
275mls chicken stock
1 teaspoon sugar


Marinate the beef for at least 15 minutes. It won’t hurt to leave it to settle longer.

Heat oil in a wok or a pan over high heat. Add the mince, and brown all over, stirring every now and then.

Take out the beef and put to one side.

Add some more oil over a medium high heat and add the spring onions, garlic, ginger and crumble in the chilli if using. Fry until smelling irresistibly fragrant.

Add back the beef, then add the sauce ingredients. Bring to boil, then simmer for 5 minutes. Add the fat courgette pieces, cover and cook for 5 minutes more.

Serve with just cooked long grain rice.

Two Exciting Things: Part II - Guest Wine Botherer

Photo: Kirsten Bresciani

Very often the authoritative voice on food cannot have the same level of authority on drink. And this is a pity. I often wish that Nigel Slater’s sumptuous recipes will be accompanied by the perfect drink suggestion - alcoholic or not. The absence of direction is odd when the flavours of the drink will be taken at the same time as the flavours of the meal.

I have a few cookbooks - Le Gavroche Cookbook for one, which have wine suggestions, but they are too expensive for low-key occasions. The book which I think matches food and drink well is How to drink, by The Guardian's Victoria Moore, which has a great emphasis on food and gives context to most of her drinks ideas.

So I’ve asked close friend Ruth Ford - a self-confessed 'Mancunian wine-botherer' - whose palate I am in awe of, to tie in wine and drink recommendations. Every now and then she will be giving a guide on how to match the wine to the food under the section she quite rightly titles with an urgent imperative:

Must Drink

She is the Olly Smith to my Saturday Kitchen - blonde and talented, but curiously prettier.

One area we’re both interested in is exploring how Asian food can work with wine. Whilst the Asian restaurant scene in UK has readily improved over the last 20 years, my own experience of wine in Chinese restaurants has been confined to either late-night tart whites sloshed illicitly from teapots, or obscure breeds served quaintly in Michelin starred hangouts.

The middle ground is - yes, there is a wine list, and no the waiter has no idea if the Sauvignon Blanc will go with the braised goose web. And of course, there is the question of whether wine is even the best thing to drink with such dishes of savoury and spice.

Please give Ruth a warm welcome and soak up the advice. And I can’t wait to learn gems from her so I can say things like - ‘you just can’t go wrong with a gavi di gavi’.

How to Drink by Victoria Moore, £15.99 is published by Granta
Le Gavroche Cookbook by Michel Roux Jr, £14.99 is published by W&N

Cantonese Steamed Sea Bass with Spring Onions, Ginger and Coriander

I think I’m turning into my mother.

Similarities keep erupting at unexpected moments... using showers of choking hairspray, needing flesh-coloured tights (the most unsexy garment bar flesh-coloured pants), spouting old wives advice (only wash your hands in warm water and drink cola boiled with ginger when you’re pregnant - apparently the potion dispels wind...).

And I take after her party-throwing ways. When she’s hosting, Daddy Lee complains she cooks too much. The guests, however, marvel at the multiple dishes they are presented with – she doesn’t serve one course after another, but many dishes - and a lot at once. Such is the Chinese and Malaysian way.

One of her classic dishes is steamed fish. Whether it’s skate, rainbow trout, bream, my mother often nourishes us with this when we’re -what the Chinese call - ‘heaty’ (that is, when we’ve stuffed ourselves with crisps, deep fried goodness and break out in acne). She’s a master at it.

This recipe is a tribute to my mother. I am using sea bass, a firm fish with delicately flavoured white flesh -perfect for withstanding the boiling hot oil that transmutes the dish from standard to spectacular. This is also for my friend Joey – an affectionately fussy eater who shies away from whole fish with heads - but I’m happy to say was clamouring for the recipe by the end of the evening.

Extremely simple to make, perfect for a quick supper.

Serves 2

1 large sea bass (already scaled and gutted)
4 tablespoons oil (vegetable or sunflower)
2 spring onions, finely shredded
5 cm knob of ginger, finely sliced into very thin matchsticks
Handful of coriander
Several glugs of light soy sauce

Place the fish in a steamer for 15 -20 minutes, or until it is just cooked. I like to line coriander in its belly, but this is not essential.

Once the fish is done, take the fish out and place in a heatproof serving dish. Pour a few glugs of light soy sauce all over the fish before sprinkling over spring onions, coriander and ginger.

Heat the oil in a wok over the highest heat (or a small saucepan that can withstand high heat). You want this to be smoking, it’s so hot. Be patient, the dish will be ruined if you take it off too early.

One hot enough (you can check with a wooden chopstick, the oil will bubble furiously around it), pour over the fish and herbs, and there will be a loud satisfying sizzle as the ginger etc. flash cooks and the skin of the fish crisps up.

Serve immediately with white rice and stir-fried vegetables (such as pea shoots).

To see the other Chinese dishes I cooked the same evening, click here.

Equation for a less-than-elegant but tasty Chinese dinner

11 people for dinner. Mine and T’s little flat. The day before, I'd bought out the contents of Loon Fung in Chinatown, scaled fish, massaged pork, armed myself with cleaver, and wondered what wines oenophile Ruth would bring to match the food.

Here’s what we eat, drink and listen to that night.

The Friends
All from university. We don’t see enough of each other, but when we do, things happen... like deciding to stalk electronic genii Daft Punk and booking a long weekend in Vegas to see them. This time - out of the 11 people in my flat, 7 are running the Belfast marathon in a few days time. In neon/spandex-tutu/superman outfits. It is my moral duty to feed everyone up.

The Menu

Bak choi and limes for the G&Ts

Tonight it’s mainly Chinese food with a bit of impro, depending on what ingredients I’m left with. During the shredding, the gutting, the fine-chopping, Anthony Bourdain’s words often whirr through my head – your first principle should be ‘meez’...’mise-en-place’. As in, getting everything you need ready so that at the last minute (and so much is last minute putting together), all your chopped garlic and onions are set out like it is when you watch Delia serenely rustle up a coq au vin.

I’ll be linking the recipes for certain dishes below in following posts.

Chinese Turnip cake with soy and chilli dipping sauce

Cantonese steamed sea-bass with shredded spring onion, ginger and coriander

Crispy five-spice belly pork with mustard and soy sauce

Shittake mushrooms cooked in their own liquor

Dried-shrimp egg fried rice

Bak choi with ginger, garlic and soy sauce

Sliced rump steak with rice noodles and spring onions

Comté, Stichelton, port and apples

Sticky ginger cake and chocolate clafoutis with crème fraîche

(My friend Rob brings cheese – one of my favourites - nutty Comté, and Stichelton – a young blue made from unpasteurised milk.
Sticky ginger cake and chocolate clafoutis with oranges and crème fraiche is brought by dessert-goddess Hannah)

The Tunes
High Contrast, Confidential: drum and bass is a spicy backdrop to the savouries.

Floorfillers 90s Club Classics: For cheese and dessert, the retro I need your loving, Dub be good to me, and Ebenezer Goode just make sense.

The Sauce
We are lucky enough to have some handpicked wines brought by my friend Ruth, and some barrel samples from a Bordeaux tasting.

Here are the wine notes for anyone who wants to know what can go with Chinese fish, pork and beef.

Stormy Cape Chenin Blanc 2009 - South Africa; easy, fruity, cheapie!
Henschke Tilly’s Vineyard 2007 - V famous Australian producer making premium wines; the Tilly’s is their ‘entry level’ white, blend of Semillon 55%, Sauvignon Blanc 20%, Chardonnay 25%; very aromatic, juicy tropical fruits, lots of body.
Quartz Reef Pinot Noir 2006 - 100% Pinot from v reputable New Zealand producer, winemaker Rudi Bauer has won lots of awards; savoury, juicy red fruit, spice

Bordeaux 2009:
Ch Petit Bocq 2009 St. Estephe
Ch Pierre de Montignac 2009 Medoc
Ch Pontac-Lynch 2009 Margaux

Do watch this space for the recipes.

The Easiest Springtime Accompaniment – Pea Shoots, the Veg de Jour

Pea shoots are in.

Every supermarket wants to flog them to me - I can’t open any food magazine without being told they’re a must-have of the season. There are websites dedicated to them, and even Nigel Slater, whom I utterly adore, pins up the glorious greens and paired them with spelt risotto in last Sunday’s Observer Food Monthly.

And who am I to disagree with Nigel Slater.

Unfortunately, unlike Nigel, I don’t have a garden, and with defiant un-saintly behaviour snatch bags of shoots from the supermarket when I see them. I am hooked. And a total victim of supermarket marketing.

Anyway, I have the most easiest most stylish accompaniment to any Chinese dish (yes, it deserves multiple superlatives it’s that easy). It takes literally three minutes from start to finish, and I’ve been cooking this for years. Pea shoots can often be found on Chinese restaurant menus but I always try to resist ordering them as the cost is usually more that I can morally part with for a plate of leaves.


Flash-cooked garlicky pea shoots (or dou miu)
Serves 2

I prefer using soy sauce usually, but if the main dish it accompanies has lots of it in, then I may use Shaoxing rice wine with salt instead. I like these with chicken with chinese mushrooms.
You can use any leaf like baby spinach if you can't find pea shoots.
Make these at the very last minute, just as you are about to serve. It’s eye-blinkingly quick.

2 bags of washed pea shoots OR 100g pea shoots washed
1 BIG garlic clove finely chopped
EITHER 1 tablespoon light soy sauce OR 1 tablespoon Shaoxing rice with a little salt
A little sunflower/vegetable oil for frying

Heat wok/frying pan until very hot. Add oil, and wait until very hot.
Add garlic and soften for half a minute
Up-end the two bags of pea shoots into the wok. Stir fry for 20 seconds.
Add the soy sauce/Shaoxing wine and salt and stir fry for half a minute until the leaves are slightly wilted. You don’t want these mushy.
Done. Serve immediately.

First bite of the Apple

Apple. My first ever word. Not Mum, not Dad, but Apple.

My parents, first generation Chinese from Malaysia and Hong Kong, must have been so proud that their daughter had food on her mind from the beginning.

A Londoner through and through, there was a clash of cultures as I railed against bad opera and Chinese school (wrong day for school, Saturday). Except when it came to food. Enjoying Asian feasting was unavoidable; much easier to embrace. Whilst I pored over Delia Smith recipes, the rentals were also cooking me pigs’ trotters, and tea-stained eggs.

Now I’m increasingly doing more of the embracing.

So, ‘Tales’ has two purposes. The first is an attempt to reclaim my heritage; to explore the dishes that have helped shape me and evolve them from the traditional. The second is to update a collection of food and restaurant experiences and their stories; keeping them in notebooks is highly anti-social, and it’s only polite to share.

So onto exciting things..
Am going to ‘Game for everything’ chef Mark Gilchrist’s pop up restaurant on Thursday. It’s all very cloak and dagger, press the buzzer type thing, so watch this space to find out what happens…