MAKES ABOUT 24 BUNS
Spicy and tangy with a slight edge of sweetness, these golden baked buns stuffed with curried vegetables are the kind of buns I always yearned for and never found during my year of vegetarian eating in Taiwan. They are a lunchtime restaurant favorite among vegetarians and carnivores alike.
The filling can be done in advance and is delicious, by itself, on Garlic Croutons (page 37). The buns can also be shaped and baked ahead, then re-warmed just prior to serving.
Basic Bun Dough (page 363)
AROMATICS:
1 tablespoon finely minced fresh ginger
1½ tablespoons finely minced garlic
1 small green serrano chili, finely minced
1 to 2 small red Fresno chilis, finely minced
¼ cup thinly sliced green and white scallion rings
SEASONINGS:
1½ tablespoons mushroom soy sauce
2½ tablespoons cider vinegar
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
1½ teaspoons sugar
When I arrived in Taipei in 1971 in the midst of monsoon season, it was only to land on my butt emotionally. I was a vegetarian in those days and expected Taiwan to be a Chinese Happy Land of meatless eating. As the weeks rained on, my spirits dampened with the streets. It seemed that the Chinese adored putting a dash of meat, poultry, or fish in everything, and that the only vegetarian dish to be had in the average non-vegetarian restaurant was a grim plate of stewed green cabbage with black mushrooms. I remember going to bed, hungry and in tears, and watching a giant Asian cockroach whiz across my room. (“So big they can fly,” as one expatriate student had warned me.) In these perilous first weeks on the island that was later to become a beloved home, I would have traded my kingdom for a falafel.
Rescue came in the unexpected form of Harvey Stupler, now one of America’s great Chinese art historians and teachers, then merely a hated classmate. I’d known him at Princeton, thought him a snob, and took him as one more note of injury to add to the rain and the cabbage and mushrooms. But dislike bloomed to platonic love, steered wisely by a full stomach. Harvey, who was very mobile in the world of Chinese restaurants (thanks to a childhood in New York’s Chinatown surrounded by the Chinese workers in his father’s barrel factory), took me literally by the hand. We went to a Buddhist vegetarian restaurant he’d heard about, a rickety closet-size joint behind the train station where they made only one thing: steamed vegetarian buns. Maybe they made other things, but that is what I remember. The dough was vaguely sweet and pleasantly squishy; the inside was a savory mix of mushrooms and Chinese mushroom greens. In memory, they combined the textures of our duck buns with the excitement of our Buddha buns. I can taste those buns still, more than twenty years later.
2 to 3 tablespoons corn or peanut oil, for stir-frying
1 cup diced celery
1 cup finely shredded carrots
3 cups diced Napa cabbage
6 large dried Chinese black mushrooms, soaked until softened, stemmed, sliced paper-thin
1 can (10 ounces) curried gluten, drained and minced (see page 374)
2 ounces (1 small skein) glass noodles, soaked in hot water until translucent, cut into 2-inch lengths
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 tablespoons cold vegetable or chicken stock or water
¼ cup coarsely chopped coriander leaves and stems
1. Make the bun dough as detailed in steps 1 through 3 on page 364.
2. Combine the aromatics in a small dish and seal until ready to use.
3. Combine the seasonings in a small bowl. Stir to blend, leaving the spoon in the bowl.
4. Heat a wok or large heavy skillet over high heat until hot enough to evaporate a bead of water on contact. Add 2 tablespoons of the oil, swirl to glaze the pan, and reduce the heat to moderate. When the oil is hot enough to sizzle a bit of minced ginger, add the aromatics. Stir gently until fully fragrant, 20 to 30 seconds, adjusting the heat so they foam without browning. Add the celery and toss until softened, about 2 minutes. Add the carrots, toss to combine, then lower the heat and let stew until juicy. Add the cabbage, toss to wilt, and let stew for 1 minute more. Adjust the heat to maintain a steamy sizzle and drizzle a bit more oil down the side of the pan, if needed to prevent sticking. Add the mushrooms and gluten, and toss to mix. Add the glass noodles and toss to combine. Stir the seasonings and add them to the pan. Toss until the mixture is very hot and the liquids come to a simmer.
5. Quickly blend the cornstarch and the stock or water until smooth, then add it to the pan in a thin stream looped over the filling. Stir until the mixture is thick, heavy, and glossy, and a dab cooled briefly and then chewed leaves no floury taste on the roof of your mouth, about 5 minutes. Fold in the coriander. Spread the filling in a thin layer on 2 large platters or a jelly roll pan. Refrigerate, uncovered, until thoroughly cold. Once cool, taste; season if needed. The cold filling may be sealed and refrigerated for a day or two before using.
6. Shape and bake the buns as detailed in steps 4 through 7 on page 365. Serve them hot.
The curried gluten called for in Buddha Buns is a highly seasoned wheat product that is a staple of Buddhist vegetarian eating in China. The best brand is canned by Companion in Taiwan and is sold widely in Chinese groceries; it has a bright yellow label. If you cannot find it, simply add curry paste or powder to taste to the aromatics and fold a cup or more of your favorite vegetable into the filling to make up for the gluten. Don’t even think of getting the uncurried variety; it is a real bow-wow.
Back in my student days, I used to keep cans of curried gluten on the shelf like some people stockpile tuna fish. It has survived even my transition to gourmand, and I confess that one midnight many years ago I sliced it thinly and served it on top of toasted cheese bread to my great-cook friend, Paula Wolfert. We both loved it. A thrilling achievement for a can!
MENU SUGGESTIONS: Buddha Buns are great all by themselves or alongside a homey bowl of soup. They are also wonderful as part of a Chinese-style buffet, served along with most any of our cold noodles and/or cold poultry or fish dishes.