This is a rousing foursome of dipping sauces most typically used with our springrolls, but in fact lavished by the staff upon most anything edible. Each sauce has its own character—the spicy green chili, the light and tart pickled ginger, the nutty peanut-lime, and the lushly sweet honey ten-spice—that makes it better or less suited to any particular springroll. For the most part, we mix and match and choose whichever sauce we’re inspired to make.
This is a delicious departure from the traditional. When I first started China Moon, I outfitted each table with cruets of soy, vinegar, and chili oil and waited for my Western patrons to combine them in a personalized puddle on their serving dish, as is the habit in China. No such thing happened. So while the cruets accumulated dust, we came up with the dipping sauces and spared our customers the work of blending their own. The result is absolutely untraditional and perfectly delicious.
MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS
5 Anaheim chilis, seeded and cut into ½-inch rounds
2 yellow wax chilis, tipped and cut into ½-inch rounds
2 large cloves garlic
¾ cup juice from China Moon Pickled Ginger (page 8)
2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
2 tablespoons corn or peanut oil
1½ packed cups fresh coriander leaves and stems
Fine sea salt or kosher salt, if needed
Thinly sliced Fresno chili rings, for garnish
1. Process the chilis and garlic in a food processor until nearly smooth. With the machine running, add the ginger juice and vinegar, then add the oil in a thin stream and process until emulsified. If using the sauce at once, add the coriander and process until smooth. If working in advance, leave out the coriander; mince and add it just before serving. Taste and season with salt if needed.
Once you are hooked on the idea of grinding your own spices, the obvious question of tools arises.
A mortar and pestle is one possibility. Lyric, aerobic, and inexpensive, it is the fountain pen of the kitchen, something that imbues a cook with a feeling of artistry. For grinding small amounts of tiny spices, like the Szechwan peppercorns in Roasted Szechwan Pepper-Salt, it is a good tool.
A spice grinder is more versatile, making up in speed and efficiency what it lacks in poetic appeal. It can easily handle the pods of star anise in China Moon Ten-Spice and will happily whirl to smithereens the stick cinnamon in China Moon Curry Powder. A spice grinder should be sturdy so don’t fall for a svelte model before asking a knowledgeable kitchenware salesperson if its muscle equals its chic. Remember, also, with a spice grinder, to fill it only half full; the spices need to whirl around freely to achieve an even grind. When cleaning, use only a faintly damp cloth, then follow with a very careful dry wipe. Store the grinder with its top off and exposed to the air, lest last week’s pepper-salt perfumes this month’s ten-spice.
A coffee grinder can be called into service as an occasional spice grinder. Wipe and air it as above before and after it has done its duty. Pay special attention to the initial cleaning on account of the coffee bean oils. If you are about to become a homemade spice maven, you will want a separate spice grinder, but for the let-me-try-it-and-see cook, this staves off an additional purchase.
Lastly, a food processor outfitted with a very sharp steel knife will work wonders with smaller spices like Szechwan peppercorns. I don’t like it for grinding bulkier spices (like star anise or cinnamon) because they can catch on the blade and lift it off the stem. However, if this is all you’ve got, you can first bash the larger spices with a mallet to make them behave better in the workbowl.
A blender is sometimes posed as an alternative spice grinder, but it has never worked well for me. I confess I have never lived with one and identify it mostly with the ghastly wheat germ milkshakes my mother would whip up to stony silence in her Adelle Davis years. Yet, if you love your blender, by all means try it for our recipes.
2. When serving, garnish the sauce bowls with thin rings of fresh red chilis for color and heat.
3. Store, refrigerated, in a clean container. The sauce will lose its bright color, but will be tasty for 1 to 2 days.
MENU SUGGESTIONS: In addition to springrolls, these sauces have been hits as dips for fried won-ton, grilled and wok-seared fish and poultry, and our house-cured beef, lamb, and pork. For dieters faced with an eternity of cold poached chicken breast, a dip dish of one of these sauces is a lifesaver.
MAKES 1 CUP
Leftovers of this dip are great for basting meat, fish, or poultry.
½ cup honey
¼ cup plus 1 tablespoon soy sauce
¼ cup juice from China Moon Pickled Ginger (page 8)
¼ teaspoon China Moon Ten-Spice (page 6)
Combine all of the ingredients in a small non-aluminum saucepan. Heat, stirring, over low heat until the honey dissolves, 3 to 4 minutes. Store, refrigerated, in a clean container. Warm over low heat to a liquid consistency before using.
MAKES 1¾ CUPS
½ cup unseasoned peanut butter, preferably homemade (page 32)
⅓ cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 teaspoon finely minced fresh ginger
3 tablespoons packed brown sugar
¼ cup soy sauce
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
2 tablespoons unseasoned Japanese rice vinegar
1½ tablespoons Ma-La Oil (page 17)
½ teaspoon Cayenne Pepper Oil (page 11)
1 tablespoon “goop” from China Moon Hot Chili Oil (page 10)
Blend together all of the ingredients until thoroughly emulsified and smooth, either in a food processor or by hand. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed with an extra dash of soy sauce or sugar to obtain a full, rich, spicy flavor. Store, refrigerated, in an impeccably clean container. Bring to room temperature and shake well before using.
MAKES 1½ CUPS
1 cup juice from China Moon Pickled Ginger (page 8)
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons unseasoned Japanese rice vinegar
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon soy sauce
Thinly sliced green and white scallion rings, for garnish
Thinly sliced Fresno chili rings, for garnish
1. Heat the pickled ginger juice, rice vinegar, and sugar in a small non-aluminum saucepan over low heat, stirring, until the sugar dissolves. Add the soy sauce and let cool to room temperature.
(an admittedly cranky admonition)
I am a strong believer in the simple, edible garnish that has a close flavor kinship to the dish. In my world, dyed daikon flamingos, writhing carrot dragons, and blinking Christmas lights in the empty eye sockets of a stir-fried lobster—all garnishes of the Hong Kong sort—are out. So, too, are radish flowers, tomato rosettes, and vegetable pellets sculpted to look like suppositories. I find all of this loathsome.
In my own rather minimalist style, the fanciest I get is an occasional scallion brush. Otherwise, a leggy piece of coriander or a flourish of scallion rings are all that our already colorful dishes require. Or, if the dish is green, a confetti of finely diced red bell pepper will do the job.
The issue is a visible one, but it needs to make sense on your tongue. A garnish is primarily designed to tickle the eye, but it also should meld seamlessly with the other flavors on the plate or contrast with them in a meaningful way.
Garnishing the rims of plates—a current feature of trendy restaurants in the 90s—is something I find very peculiar. I spill and splatter my own food quite nicely, thank you, and don’t want the kitchen to do it for me.
Ditto the rage for a whole chive aloft each appetizer or a cage of spun sugar looming above a dessert. It is admittedly wonderful to give a little height to a dish: One can arrange cold shrimp, for example, in a lively tumble with just a touch or two. But the unrelated vertical garnish is often absurd, a bit of Dr. Seuss on the plate.
I sound cranky, and perhaps I am! Restaurant cooks frequently spend too much time decorating their food, and too little time paying attention to its taste. This, I think, is sad.
2. When serving, garnish the sauce bowls with thin rings of scallions and fresh red chilis for color and heat.
3. Store, refrigerated, in a clean glass jar. Shake well before using.