SERVES 3 TO 4 IN LARGE BOWLS, 6 TO 7 IN SMALL BOWLS
Classic hot and sour soup, a creation of northern Chinese cooks, is designed to warm your toes in winter. This lighter, unorthodox version is keyed to summer and all its glories. The preparations may be done up to a full day ahead.
Hot and sour soup is a great one-bowl meal. It doubles easily for a crowd, and if you’ve made too much, survives reheating nicely. Both my first cookbook and this one were written on the fuel of hot and sour soup reheated over the course of many days! For the mother of all hot and sour soups, see Mongolian-Style Hot and Sour Soup in The Modern Art of Chinese Cooking. Ten years later, I have not been able to improve upon it.
Preparations may be done up to a full day ahead. The final cooking and combining is done in minutes.
VELVET MARINADE:
1 large egg white
1 tablespoon Chinese rice wine or dry sherry
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ to ¾ pound fresh skinless chicken breast, cut crosswise against the grain into thin slivers
3 tablespoons cornstarch
8 cups China Moon Infusion (page 72) or China Moon Double Stock (page 72)
1 cup fresh corn kernels
⅓ cup fresh peas
¼ cup plus 3 tablespoons soy sauce or 3 tablespoons mushroom soy sauce
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Serrano-Lemongrass Vinegar (page 19) or unseasoned Japanese rice vinegar
SOUP TRIMMINGS:
½ cup seeded and diced tomatoes
3 tablespoons julienned purple or green basil
⅓ cup thinly sliced green and white scallion rings
¼ cup finely chopped Chinese chives
1. In a bowl, combine the velvet marinade ingredients and whisk until thickened. Add the chicken and stir to coat each slice well. Seal airtight and marinate in the refrigerator for 2 to 4 hours or overnight. Bring to room temperature before cooking, and re-toss to loosen the slivers.
2. About 20 minutes before serving the soup, dissolve the cornstarch in ½ cup of the cold infusion, leaving the spoon in the bowl. Bring the remaining infusion to a steaming near simmer over low heat in a large, non-aluminum pot.
3. While the soup heats, separately blanch the corn, peas, and chicken in a large saucepan of simmering water. Blanch the corn only 3 to 5 seconds to set its color, then set aside. Blanch the peas until tender-crisp, about 30 seconds depending on size, then chill in ice water, drain, and set aside. Adjust the water to a steaming near simmer, then add the chicken. Stir gently to separate the slivers, then drain when the outside turns 90 percent white. Spread on a plate to cool. The chicken should be a bit rare; it will cook to doneness in the soup.
4. Once the soup reaches a near simmer, add the soy sauce, stir, and taste. Add enough kosher salt to bring out the flavor of the stock and then enough pepper to zing your lips. The amount needed will vary depending on the stock used. Last, add the vinegar in a thin stream, tasting until the flavor is pleasantly sour. You may need as much as ⅓ cup. When the flavors are strong and balanced, bring the soup to a simmer, stir the cornstarch mixture to recombine, then add it to the pot, stirring. Once the soup turns glossy, in 2 to 3 minutes, turn off the heat.
5. Portion among heated soup bowls the chicken, corn, peas, tomatoes, basil, scallions, and chives. Ladle the steaming seasoned soup into the bowls and serve immediately.
MENU SUGGESTIONS: Thick wedges of hot bread are my favorite mate to a hot and sour soup. If you are in the mood for more work than heating a loaf from the local bakery, try Mandarin Breadtwists (page 66) or the savory Pan-Fried Scallion-Chive Bread (page 382). If you wished a soup to open a dinner, this one would be a great introduction to a meal of grilled fish.
At China Moon, I school our cooks in the beginning, middle, and end tastes of a sauce or a dish. The idea is that the tongue is most excited when it experiences a vibrant range of flavor in a single lick. In this way, the palate senses one thing when it first tastes, another a second or so later, and yet another when the dab of stuff has just slid down the throat. To be the flavorful China Moon ideal, a dish (or a complex component of that dish, such as a dipping sauce) should have this three-tiered range of flavor.
This isn’t as esoteric as it sounds. Wine tasters, for one, know this sort of thing well. It’s really as simple as differentiating monotone from stereo. So, if you’re wanting monotone in food, you’re reading the wrong book!