World of Noodles 8: Cheung Fun 腸粉

King prawn cheung fun

Cheung fun 腸粉 is made from a 'batter' of rice flour and water, which is steamed to produce thin rice noodle sheets. On its own, it's bland and flavourless, but when this silky smooth rice noodle roll is combined with a filling and a sweet soy-based dressing, it becomes the stuff of dreams.

Zhaliang

Traditionally, cheung fun is a southern Chinese breakfast dish, and it's found in cafés, congee stalls and dim sum restaurants. In the case of the latter, I find its presence on the menu reassuring, as it's a sign that a restaurant has good dim sum credentials. After all, any two-bit joint can reheat bought-in dumplings, but only a proper dim sum restaurant will have skilled chefs that can make cheung fun from scratch.

Golden cuttlefish cheung fun

My favourite kind of cheung fun? Seafood such as prawn or scallop is always a winner, and you can't go far wrong with cha siu pork. However, given the choice, I actually prefer zhaliang (炸兩), which consists of cheung fun wrapped around a fried dough stick (you tiao 油條). A new favourite of mine is golden cuttlefish, which sees a filling of deep-fried cuttlefish paste in tofu skin. Some like cheung fun pan-fried with soy sauce, whilst others prefer it simply dressed with XO chilli sauce.

Pan-fried cheung fun

Being Cantonese, I've always taken cheung fun for granted, and it took a trip to Beijing, a few years ago, to realise how much I love this noodle. I was wandering around a food court when I stumbled upon a stall that served freshly made cheung fun. Cantonese isn't really spoken in Beijing, so I had to switch to Mandarin, a language I'm not particularly proficient in, to place my order.

What was served looked like a dog's dinner. I was distraught, and out of nowhere, I went off on a rant along the lines of, 'You're having a laugh if you think I'm going to eat that. That's not cheung fun. I should know. I'm Cantonese. You're going to have to make me a new one.'

I was in shock at my angry outburst, not least because it was in Mandarin. I apologised straight away for my tone, but nonetheless made it clear that I wanted a replacement. They, too, were apologetic and a fresh portion was served up. Peace was restored, and as I walked away from the stall, it dawned on me that this humble rice noodle has a very special place in my heart.

Beef Noodle Soup 牛肉麵 @ Mama Lan

There are many styles of beef noodle soup including Vietnamese pho and Cantonese beef brisket noodles (牛腩麵). However, the most iconic beef noodle soup is, arguably, the one known in Chinese as 牛肉麵 niu rou mian. This dish is widely thought of as being Taiwanese, but in actual fact, it has its origins in Chinese Muslim cuisine. The Taiwanese connection only came about because it was introduced to the island by the retreating Nationalist KMT army following their defeat in the Chinese Civil War.

History lesson over, beef noodle soup (£7.50) is the newest dish on the menu at Mama Lan, and I was kindly invited by the owner, Ning, to give it a Masterchef-style appraisal. I accepted on the basis that I didn't actually have to pretend to be either John Torode or Gregg Wallace.

As with any soup noodle dish, I started with a slurp of the soup. And it didn't disappoint, as it was made with stock that was chock full of aromatics, with the reassuring scent of star anise taking centre-stage. The beef shin was slow-cooked to tender perfection, and being sourced from The Ginger Pig, it was of excellent quality. This dish isn't meant to be super-spicy, but a few chopped chillies and a touch of chilli oil did lend it some heat.

Negatives? The noodles were ever so slightly overcooked and they lacked the QQ bounce that is so important in soup noodle dishes. However, this is forgivable given that this dish was being sold for the first time that night. Moreover, the team at Mama Lan have taken this on board, and intend to reduce the cooking time of the noodles.

Hardcore beef noodle aficionados may also be disappointed that there's no tendon or cartilage option. That said, Mama Lan is located in Brixton, not Beijing, and it's a bit much to expect them to convert the locals to these textural delights.

Overall, this dish showed promise, and I think it's a welcome addition to the menu at Mama Lan. After all, every Chinese joint should serve noodles in my opinion. Especially somewhere that specialises in the food of Beijing and the north of China.

I was a guest of Mama Lan. For a review of my first visit to this eatery, please click here.



Mama Lan, Brixton Village Market, Coldharbour Lane, London SW9 8PR
Nearest station: Brixton

Dinner @ Banana Tree Soho

Banana Tree styles itself as an Indochina kitchen – offering dishes and specialities from Malaysia, Thailand and Vietnam amongst other countries in South East Asia. As long time readers of my blog will know, this kind of pan-Asian concept usually brings me out in hives.

Nevertheless, my curiosity was aroused when I was invited to review Banana Tree's new Soho branch. After all, it does no harm to challenge one's prejudices, especially when the first £60 of the bill is free. I know some of you are sceptical of freebie invite reviews, but in this instance I dined anonymously with two civilian mates, and only unmasked myself as a blogger when the bill arrived.

The Legendary Rendang

Like many casual joints, Banana Tree doesn't do starters and mains. Instead, they serve mains alongside a selection of smaller side dishes, and the food is brought out as and when it's ready. I don't usually mind this, but I was a little hacked off that everything, literally, came out at once, with no stagger whatsoever. This meant dishes got cold and table space was at a premium. Anyway, here's what we ordered:

The Legendary Rendang (£9.80) was probably the pick of the bunch, with its melt-in-the-mouth beef and rich coconutty sauce. It could've done with having more zing, but still, it was much better than the rendang I recently had at Tukdin, an ultra authentic Malaysian joint. It's just a shame there wasn't more of it. Sticking with Malaysian classics, the Kajang chicken satay (£8.50/6 pcs) was well marinated and had a nice char. Unfortunately, the chicken was a bit dry and overcooked, which was a shame as the peanut sauce was very good.

Braised Pork Belly

String-tied braised pork belly w/green coconut juice (£7.50) was the other highlight. The pork fell away in juicy tender strands, and the accompanying sauce picked up the flavour of the aromatics such as cinnamon and star anise. This Vietnamese style dish was better than a similar one I had at Viet Grill. But like the rendang, the portion size was a bit mean.

Phad Thai

Phad Thai w/prawns (£8.20) – for whatever reason, this iconic Thai noodle dish often disappoints in London. And this effort didn't buck that trend, as it was bland and unmemorable. As was the green papaya salad (£5.90) – this version of classic Thai som tum, was let down by the absence of chillies, which usually gives this dish a fiery kick.

Roast duck

Roasted duck breast with Pei Pa hoisin sauce (£11.50) is poor value when you consider a whole Cantonese roast duck from Chinatown doesn't cost much more. Cost aside, the meat was tender enough but the skin wasn't well lacquered. It also didn't help that the dish was doused in sauce, which would have been better served on the side. All in all, a bit underwhelming.

The atmosphere was buzzy and the service attentive. Together with some rice, a couple of rounds of beer and service, the bill came to £86 between three, which is roughly £29/head. Notwithstanding the fact that the first £60 of the bill was comped, this is quite expensive for what is a casual dining experience. That said, you can 'combo up' your main course, which makes it better value, although that does discourage sharing.

Despite my deep-rooted antipathy to pan-Asian eateries, Banana Tree wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Nothing was actively bad, and there were signs of promise in the beef rendang and the braised pork belly. Yet there was little va-va-voom (that's a new phrase for Food Blog Bingo) and to be honest, it isn't really my kind of place. Mind you, what I think is pretty much irrelevant, as this casual restaurant was never less than full in the hour or so that I was there.



Banana Tree, 103 Wardour Street, London W1F 0UQ (Tel: 020-7437-1351)
Nearest stations: Leicester Square, Tottenham Court Road

Almond Cookies 杏仁酥

杏仁酥 hang jan sou are crumbly crunchy almond cookies with a salty-sweet contrast in flavour that I adore. These cookies could pass off as western snacks (西餅) but they are very much considered Chinese (中餅).

Hang jan sou are often handed out as gifts during festive periods, such as Chinese New Year, which is why I guess they come in the most environmentally unfriendly packaging ever.

I bought these cookies at Loon Fung supermarket in London's Chinatown, where a single pack of ten cost £1.59, or you can do as I did and buy two packs for £2. If you see them then I do recommend buying a pack – they make a great snack.

For those keen bakers out there, Pig Pig's Corner has a great recipe for these cookies. If you like almonds then there's another famous Chinese snack you could try called 杏仁餅 hang jan beng. And finally, if walnuts are more your thing then there's a similar cookie called 合桃酥 hap tou sou.

Beijing Dumplings @ Mama Lan

In Chinese, they are called 鍋貼, pronounced guotie and wor tip in Mandarin and Cantonese respectively. In English, they are known by various names such as: pot-stickers, grilled dumplings, or pan-fried dumplings, often with the prefix Peking or Beijing to denote their northern roots. And the Japanese, having stolen subsumed these dumplings into their own cuisine, call them gyoza.

Irrespective of their name, these dumplings are the calling card of Brixton Village's Mama Lan. If you're looking for the gossamer thin skins of Cantonese dim sum then this isn't the place to come. These Beijing-style dumplings have thicker skins, largely because the northern Chinese have fat fingers and generally lack the dexterity and grace of their southern compatriots. I am, of course, joking; the skins are thicker because the base of the dumplings is pan-fried.

In its short life, Mama Lan has had mixed reviews from critics and bloggers alike. And truth be told, I was prepared to be disappointed. However, I am pleased to report that the dumplings were pretty decent. I particularly enjoyed the pork & Chinese leaf dumplings (£4), which were juicy, flavoursome and nicely charred on the base.

I was less taken with the beef & carrot dumplings (£4) although I understand it's a Beijing favourite. In my opinion, the carrot should be ditched, and a new partner be found for the beef. If it was up to me, I'd consider leek, maybe ginger & spring onion, or my personal favourite of dried citrus peel (guo pi 果皮).

Positives? The dumplings benefit from being freshly made and cooked to order. And it's good to see that the meat is sourced from The Ginger Pig.

Negatives? I'd like to see the dipping bowls come with slivers of ginger to add some heat and depth to the vinegar dip. The individual dumplings could also be a bit bigger, although at £4 for a portion of five, they are good value.

Whilst I wouldn't go so far as to describe Mama Lan as a destination in itself, I'm pleased that there's a Chinese presence in Brixton Village. And even if you don't pop in for a full meal, I think it's well worth a visit as part of a Brixton Village crawl. For instance, I can easily picture a trail that encompasses dumplings from Mama Lan; a pizza slice from The Agile Rabbit; samosa chaat from Elephant; gelato from Lab G and a flat white from Federation Coffee!

Update 8 Nov 2011 - I've been back to Mama Lan for some beef noodle soup, please click here for review.



Mama Lan, Brixton Village Market, Coldharbour Lane, London SW9 8PR
Nearest station: Brixton

Extra Helpings
Beijing pan-fried dumplings are found everywhere from the local takeaway to high-end Chinese restaurants. The best that I've come across in London are the fried watercress meat dumplings (西洋菜煎餃子) found on the dim sum menu at Pearl Liang.

Otherwise, Jen Café in London's Chinatown is famous for its hand-made dumplings, which are available boiled as well as pan-fried. Uncooked dumplings can also be bought as take-away.

For those of you lucky enough to visit Beijing, a trip to the legendary Shun Yi Fu is a must. Its selection of dumplings is second-to-none, and the menu is in English as well as Chinese.