Showing posts with label Congee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Congee. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

The Joy of Instagram

I love Instagram, the photo-sharing app with the quirky filters, and I'd even go so far to say that it's my favourite social media. That's because it's the most fun and, in general, it's a better place to play than, say, twitter. I use it mainly to share photos of food, and it's where I increasingly chat to others about what and where I'm eating. For those of you not yet on Instagram, here's a taste of what you've been missing.



Exmouth Market
- one of my favourite streets in London, where the joys of pecan pie at Medcalf and duck egg with morcilla at Caravan can be found.



Japanese yakitori - two places where I enjoy eating it are Soho's Bincho, which serves a good value set lunch, and Sticks 'N' Sushi in Wimbledon, where they also knock out a great seaweed salad.



Chinese patisserie - these exquisite pumpkin pies and walnut buns (named for their appearance) were the most memorable dishes from a meal at South Beauty, a Sichuan restaurant in Beijing.



Eggs - an oozy Scotch egg and the eggy heart of a Gala pie from Egg Boss and Eat My Pies respectively. Incidentally, these guys are two of my favourite street food vendors.


Northern Chinese food - I adore the multi-coloured buns from Datanghong in Beijing, but northern Chinese food, like the dumplings by Mama Lan in Brixton, can also be found closer to home.



Street food - I love snacks from all over the world, and I'm lucky to live in London where I can sample Indian pani puri (from Horn OK Please at Eat St) as well as Spanish tortilla (from Jose at Maltby St Market).



Fried dough sticks - known as you jaa gwei 油炸鬼 in Cantonese, or you tiao 油条 in Mandarin, these treats are eaten for breakfast, usually as an accompaniment with juk (congee), and increasingly so with noodles.



Vietnamese treats - I love stuff like green bean cakes or a take-away bowl of pho. But you don't have to travel all the way to Vietnam to get this stuff – the pho is from Banhmi11 (various London stalls)

If you would like to see more photos like these then please check out my Instagram feed on your iPhone or Android smartphone. My Instagram handle is @eatlovenoodles

Sunday, 26 June 2011

Under Bridge Spicy Crab 橋底辣蟹

It's often been said that the Cantonese can't handle spicy food, but in my opinion that's a bit of a generalisation. Whilst they might not like it as hot as their brethren in Hunan or Sichuan, the Cantonese do enjoy a bit of heat. After all, they did invent the famous XO sauce, amongst other chilli oils and sauces. And they're also responsible for chiu-yim (椒鹽) style dishes, where deep-fried treats like squid are tossed in a chilli-salt mix.


Still not convinced? Then I can only assume that you've never come across typhoon shelter crab (避風塘炒蟹). A single taste of this dish will swiftly disabuse you of the notion that the Cantonese are members of the Korma Tendency. I'm not exactly sure of the origins of this dish, but legend has it that it was invented by the 'boat dwellers' (水上人家) that lived in and around Hong Kong's typhoon shelters. In this respect, typhoon shelter crab can be considered Hong Kong's 'national' dish.


Whilst this dish is found on the menus of many mainstream Cantonese restaurants, it remains best served by specialist joints. Perhaps the most famous of these is Under Bridge Spicy Crab (橋底辣蟹). This Wan Chai restaurant is an institution and their version of this dish sees deep-fried crab tossed in their legendary chilli-mix. This dry crispy mix of garlic, chilli, black beans (豆豉 douci), and spring onions is maddeningly addictive. So much so, I ordered a couple of bowls of congee to put the chilli-mix into. We went for medium spicy, and to be honest any hotter than this can slightly spoil the crab.


The typhoon shelter treatment isn't limited to crab, and we also sampled some typhoon shelter mantis shrimps. These giant beasts are colloquially known in Chinese as 攋尿蝦, which translates as pissing prawns, and have a texture akin to lobster. Again these were very moreish, particularly the tail.












It is very easy to over order, and with hindsight we ordered one, maybe two dishes too many. Other seafood dishes that they do well include clams in black bean sauce and deep-fried silverfish. As you might expect from any Chinese restaurant, the veggies are top notch, in this case some stir-fried flowering chives. A special shout also goes to our waiter, a gravelly voiced Cantonese old boy who looked after us really well.

This restaurant is a unique Hong Kong experience and I heartily recommend it. Thanks also to Tom and Jen for joining me at Under Bridge Spicy Crab and also at The Chairman – great meals made better by great company.

Whilst Under Bridge Spicy Crab is famous, it can be confusing to find the right one to go to, as there are three outlets in close proximity to one another. There are also other spicy crab restaurants in the locale, which further adds to the confusion. Anyway, we went to the flagship restaurant, which is said to be best. I think the address is as below, but if in doubt, it's the only one of the three on Lockhart Road proper.

Under Bridge Spicy Crab 橋底辣蟹
G/F-3/F, Ascot Mansion, 421-425 Lockhart Road, Wan Chai, Hong Kong
香港 灣仔 駱克道421-425號雅閣大廈地下至三樓
Tel: +852-2893-1289 / +852-2834-6818
Nearest MTR: Causeway Bay 銅鑼灣

Thursday, 16 June 2011

Eat Like A Local @ Tsui Wah 翠華餐廳 & Ocean Empire 海皇粥店

Whilst dim sum makes for a great breakfast or lunch, few people have the time, money, or metabolism to indulge a daily dumpling habit. So what are the alternatives? Well, for many Hong Kongers, they like to pop into cha chaan tengs (茶餐廳). These are best described as the Hong Kong equivalent of the American diner.


These diners are open from breakfast to late into the night, and serve a bewildering array of dishes encompassing Cantonese favourites, HK-style western food, and increasingly so, local versions of South East Asian dishes. For example, breakfast might be HK-style French toast or macaroni in broth w/fried egg, and lunch or dinner might consist of Hainan chicken rice or Malaysian curry.


One of Hong Kong's most famous cha chaan tengs is Tsui Wah (翠華餐廳), a small chain whose flagship branch is on Wellington Street and consists of three cavernous floors. This isn't the place for a quiet chat, and more often than not, you're expected to share a table with other diners.


I pitched up at Tsui Wah with some colleagues, and was confronted with multiple menus. I kept it simple and ordered fish combination w/rice vermicelli in fish soup (鮮味魚四寶米線), with the 'combination' consisting of squid balls (墨魚丸), fish balls (魚蛋), fish roll (魚春卷), and fish paste puff (魚腐). The quality may not have been the best, but as a workday lunch, it certainly beats the living daylights out of a tired old sarnie. And for a mere HK$30 (apx £2.50), it's certainly great value.


With hindsight, though, I should've gone for the Kagoshima pork cartilage in special sauce & fish balls w/rice noodles in fish soup that my colleague ordered. She kindly let me have some of the cartilage (豬軟骨) and it was fantastic, with all the porky goodness demanding to be sucked clean off the soft bone.


However, it was the flowering chives (韮菜) served with an abalone sauce that stole the show. This dish wouldn't have felt out of place in one of Hong Kong's swankier restaurants, never mind a humble cha chaan teng.

At the end of the day, Tsui Wah can be uncomfortable and noisy, and you can probably get better quality food at specialist 'hole-in-the-walls' like Lau Sum Kee. But for all that, a visit to a cha chaan teng is a must-do, as it is a unique Hong Kong experience.

Tsui Wah 翠華餐廳
G-2/F, 15-19 Wellington Street, Central, Hong Kong
香港 中環 中環威靈頓街15-19號地下至2樓
Nearest MTR: Central 中環

Despite being called Mr Noodles, my favourite Chinese breakfast is congee, or as it's called in Cantonese: juk (粥). As this rice porridge is a slow-cooked affair, locals go to a congee shop or juk diem (粥店) for convenience.


Ocean Empire (海皇粥店) is a mini-chain that serves many different types of congee, all priced around the HK$20 mark. I went for my favourite of fish slice congee w/coriander (芫茜魚片粥). For those of you that make congee at home, coriander is a great addition as it introduces an extra herby flavour whilst adding colour too. As I've come to expect from Ocean Empire, this was a fine bowl of congee with delicate flakes of fish and a deep ginger flavour.


Congee is usually topped with a couple of bits of deep-fried dough stick (you tiao 油條). However, some people like to order extra you tiao, and I'm no exception although I like to have it wrapped in rice noodle roll (cheung fun 腸粉) to make zhaliang (炸兩). Ocean Empire rather exuberantly names this dish in English as twisted doughnut ricesheet roll.

Ocean Empire's version is a good one. As you can see, the freshly made cheung fun is almost translucent. The fried doughstick is also crispy on the outside and isn't too oily. Incidentally, if you sit near the open kitchen, you can see the cheung fun being freshly made to order. They do quite a big range of cheung fun, and I can also recommend the dried shrimp ricesheet roll (蝦米腸粉). Other dishes include snacks and stir-fried noodles that are mainly served as accompaniments to the signature congee.

Some of Hong Kong's hole-in-the-walls can be inaccessible to non-Chinese readers, and it's to Ocean Empire's credit that their menu is in Chinese (both traditional and simplified characters), English and Japanese. In other words, there's no excuse not to come here!


Rather bizarrely, despite having multilingual menus, a few of their outlets only have Chinese signage. Ocean Empire's logo is as above, if you want to identify this superior juk diem.

Ocean Empire Food Shop 海皇粥店
Shop 1-2, G/F, 15-23 Sugar Street, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong
香港 銅鑼灣 糖街15-23號地下1-2號舖
Nearest MTR: Causeway Bay 銅鑼灣

Sunday, 17 January 2010

Old School Dim Sum


Dim sum has been around in Britain for years and not just in London. My parents worked in a dim sum restaurant when they briefly lived in Birmingham in the 1960's and my earliest restaurant memories are of eating dim sum in Manchester in the 1970's. In those days, it was mainly eaten within the Chinese community but in the last decade it has become trendy and mainstream.

So when did it get trendy ? I guess it was in the early-noughties when hip London restaurants that served dim sum in designer surroundings opened up. Places like E&O and its siblings and Alan Yau's pair of Michelin starred restaurants, Hakkasan and Yauatcha. These places were soon followed by cheaper chain knock-offs like  Dim t and Ping Pong which took dim sum into the mainstream.


The literal meaning of dim sum is 'to touch the heart' and figuratively speaking, you'd be hard pushed to think of a more apt description as dim sum means much more than just food. Without sounding too mawkish, the best dim sum does touch the heart but on the rare occasions I've been to these trendy places, the only place they touched was my wallet.

At best you'll get high quality imaginative dim sum in opulent surroundings with prices to match. At worse, you'll dine on mass produced dumplings in a chain version of a designer dining room. But irrespective of the quality of the food, there's something missing from when eating out at these places that I can't quite express.

When pushed, I say it's because I like old school dim sum. But other than sounding like an embarrassing uncle trying to be cool, what do I actually mean by 'old school' ? That's the question I'm going to attempt to answer with my 'old school' rules.

Is Granny there ?
It's an old cliché that the best Chinese restaurants are those where the Chinese eat. This may not always be true but I think it applies to dim sum restaurants at the weekend, especially if granny is there. You've definitely landed in an old school joint if it has more than its fair share of Chinese matriarchs. But what does granny look for in a dim sum joint ?


zhaliang (cheung fun filled with fried dough stick) - Harbour City

Check out the menu
Loads of places sell the more common dim sum such as har gau, siu mai and cha siu bao but since these can be bought in frozen, it isn't really a sign of the real deal. You have to examine the menu closely and look for the following:

Chinese language menu – some places have their menu in English only which isn't much use to granny who can only read Chinese. An old school place will have its dim sum menu in Chinese usually with imprecise English translations and occasionally pictures.

Cheung fun – these steamed rice noodle rolls with a variety of fillings are a dim sum essential which begs the question why some new school places don’t sell it ? That's because you need someone who can do more than watch over a steamer with a timer to make cheung fun – someone like a trained dim sum chef.

The hardcore – esoteric delights such as chickens' feet (fung zao) should be on the menu with extra old school points if the likes of steamed tripe (ngau pak yip) and ducks' tongues (aap lei) are available.

The sides – no dim sum feast is complete without side orders of Cantonese siu mei such as roast duck and noodles like beef ho fun. You should also be able to order congee or juk.

Tea always tea
Yum cha is the Cantonese term used to describe the act of going out to eat dim sum. Please note the literal translation is 'drink tea' and not 'drink lychee martini' or any other cocktail. Granny might let the young 'uns have a soft drink but cocktails are not old school.

By tea, I mean proper Chinese tea like tieguanyin, pu-erh, and oolong served in a pot with unlimited refills. What I don't mean is a big jasmine flower served in a glass that is too bloody hot to hold for the duration of the meal costing upwards of £3. And before you ask, a green tea cocktail does not count.

Prices
Regardless of who's paying, granny won't tolerate poor value for money. She'll approve of Chinatown dim sum prices which start from around £2 per portion. She may make a fuss at classier old school places like Royal China and Phoenix Palace where prices start from £2.60. But you'll never hear the end of it if you pitch up somewhere where the cheapest dim sum cost upwards of the £3 mark.

I don't mind paying a bit more for quality dim sum but there are some places that really take the piss e.g. Ping Pong charge £3.99 for cha siu bao which is double the price in Chinatown. But that's nothing compared to the £6.50 that Min Jiang charge for a portion of three xiao long bao. I've heard these are excellent but are they really that much better than those at Yum Cha that cost £2.40 ?

Anything else ?
Lest anyone be confused I'm not harking back to a bygone age where the dim sum is on trolleys and there are no gweilos around. Nor am I saying that dim sum shouldn't evolve and must be authentic. It's worth remembering that some dishes that are now considered staples are less than 25 years old and there is some great fusion dim sum e.g. wasabi prawn dumplings. On the downside, there are some shockers like Ping Pong's satay chicken spring roll with pineapple – whoever invented this car crash is a total knob.


wasabi prawn dumplings - Phoenix Palace

Nor does old school necessarily mean eating in a dining room that is conspicuously 'Chinese'. Whilst I admit I can be wary of trendy interior design, I don’t really care as long as a place fulfils the criteria for being 'old school'. For example, Pearl Liang is very stylish with its modern art, trendy wallpaper, and big purple cushions, yet for all that I'm happy to eat there as it ticks all the old school boxes.

The last word
This is a personal view and isn't meant to be a dig at anyone who got into dim sum through places like E&O and Ping Pong. Having said that I hope you understand why I like my dim sum old school but if you remain unconvinced just ponder this, who would you rather trust when it comes to Chinese food ? A Chinese matriarch or a lychee martini drinking fashionista ?

Thursday, 10 December 2009

Fish Slice Congee @ Hung Tao (Cantonese), London

Why is congee called congee in English ? Wikipedia's not sure and besides isn't rice porridge, a more easily understood English term to describe this dish ? Congee isn't a Chinese word either and I hate using it. In Mandarin, it’s called zhou but I know it as juk from the Cantonese.

Etymology aside, I love juk as it's like 'a hug in a bowl' - help I'm turning into Gregg Wallace - but really it is the ultimate comfort food. That’s why the Chinese use it to feed toddlers and the sick. Needless to say, it's also a fantastic hangover cure.

This Southern Chinese dish truly is the breakfast of kings and whenever I’m in the Far East, I always track down a stall or caff for juk. But back home, I've never been impressed by juk when eating out in London so more often than not, I make my own.

Fast-forward to a dismal grey and wet Saturday in November in Bayswater. My original plan was to try some Cantonese BBQ at Gold Mine but as there was a massive queue, I just ended up buying some take-away siu yuk. That still left the dilemma on where to go for lunch.

Now you're not short of options on Queensway with so many foodie fave destinations such as Royal China, Mandarin Kitchen, Four Seasons and Kiasu. But I wanted to try somewhere a bit different which is why I ended up at Hung Tao.

Being such a grim day, I needed some comfort food so it was a toss-up between soup noodles and juk. The latter won out and I ordered my favourite of fish slice congee (yu pian juk). And I was so glad I did as this was truly a big hug in a bowl !

Even after making allowances for my mood, the juk was unbelievably soothing and full of flavour. I reckon they threw in a ladle or two of the masterstock they use for soup noodles as well as tonnes of julienned ginger to make it so moreish.

A minor complaint is that they could’ve used better quality fish but looking back this is me being a bit la-di-da as I use cod fillet in my home-made juk. Besides I shouldn't be nitpicking given the generous amount of fish in my bowl of juk that cost just £5.70.

Hung Tao is a bit of a hole in the wall and its decor and ambience reminded me of the cha chaan tengs of Hong Kong - in my book, that's a good thing. Service was pretty efficient and without the surliness that you sometimes get in Chinatown.

Verdict: Even allowing for my natural inclination towards places like Hung Tao, it has achieved the near impossible - decent juk in London !

Other Stuff: They have fully bilingual menus with some real goodies on there - I saw them making their own wontons in the open kitchen so I must try these and the siu mei and the noodles..........

{Update Jan '10 - Bought some excellent take-away siu yuk (crispy belly pork) here for a bargain £5.80/portion}

Hung Tao on Urbanspoon

Monday, 24 August 2009

Shanghai: The Best of the Rest

Now you may be mistaken in thinking that all I did in Shanghai was stuff my face with xiao long bao and sheng jian bao. You wouldn’t be far wrong but here’s a round-up of the rest of the places in Shanghai that I’d return to. They're all in the French Concession near where I stayed.

Cantonese food is very popular in Shanghai and there are loads of casual places as well as posher restaurants if you need a fix. Bifengtang is a chain restaurant not dissimilar to the cha chaan teng or caffs that you see in Hong Kong. There’s a bilingual menu with a wide selection of Cantonese one-plate dishes, congee, soup noodles, fried noodles and dim sum with some Shanghainese faves. It’s pretty unremarkable except for their dim sum dish of prawn spring roll wrapped in cheung fun (RMB 16). The contrast between the different textures of springy prawn filling, crispy spring roll pastry and soft rice noodle roll exterior were a joy. I went to the Changle Lu branch which is open 24 hours a day.

Even better Cantonese fare is available in the café inside the Cathay Theatre on the corner of Maoming Nan Lu and Huaihai Zhong Lu. It doesn’t have an English name but you can see the Chinese name from the name card on the left hand of the below photo - just follow the signs and go upstairs. They have an extensive bilingual menu and there’s also a Cantonese BBQ counter (extra marks for authenticity). The stand out dish here was Three Treasures Congee (RMB 28) served in a claypot. The three treasures in question were fish slices, crab legs and prawns with the added bonus of a fourth treasure of clams ! This was the best congee I’ve had in a long time and was better than the stuff I had in Hong Kong and Guangzhou earlier this year.

A very un-Chinese place was the Epicvre which I discovered whilst strolling along Xinle Lu. It’s a fine food and wine shop with a French bent. There’s a few tables for punters to snack and drink. I didn’t eat here but they do serve quiche type things and salads. The reason to come here is to enjoy their fine wines and my nicely chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc (RMB 60) really hit the spot after walking around in humid 30C heat.

Now Shanghai is an expensive city to drink with beers costing up to the equivalent of £6 - £7 which is double the going rate in Beijing (or London for that matter). So I was pleased to track down the Boxing Cat Brewery on the Fuxing Xi Lu, a relatively quiet corner of the French Concession. This microbrewery sells pints at around RMB 45 (RMB 35 during Happy Hour) and it‘s a great place to drink outdoors. I didn’t eat here but they do American food including weekend brunch.