SERVES 2 TO 3 AS A MAIN DISH, 4 TO 6 AS PART OF A MULTICOURSE MEAL
When a vegetarian appears at the gate and there is nothing suitably uncarnivorous on that day’s tiny menu, we stir-fry whatever vegetables have been gleaned from the morning marketing and serve them forth in this spicy bath of coconut-curry sauce, typically on top of a noodle pillow (pages 401 to 403).
The vegetable selection is highly improvisational; choose what is freshest and best in the market, with an eye to color and shape. If you are a tofu-lover, also add some fresh white tofu to your shopping list. Sliced into rectangular tiles, deep-fried, and slipped into the sauce at the last minute, it gives a wonderful meatiness to the plate.
Preparations are easy and can be done a day ahead. The last-minute stir-frying takes only minutes.
I first learned about blanching vegetables in advance of sautéing or stir-frying them when we opened China Moon. It is a classic Western restaurant technique whereby cut vegetables are partially cooked in rapidly boiling water and then finished on the stovetop as many as 8 hours later. The vegetables retain their color and moisture, and the time required for cooking is cut in half. Though I wrinkled my naive brow and worried about lost vitamins and injured traditions, it seemed an imperative in our kitchen—which is the size of a closet—and also important for our guests, who are often dashing off to a show after dinner.
I now almost always blanch vegetables for stir-frying, even at home. Vitamin loss may be a storm cloud for the nutritionally concerned cook, however, blanching cuts down on that modern villain OIL!. A vegetable destined for the wok that has first been dunked in boiling water requires only half the amount of oil it would otherwise need.
If the idea of blanching is appealing to you, here is what you will need to blanch veggies with panache:
• A capacious, light pot. I typically blanch all the vegetables for a dish one at a time in one pot of water. A big pot means that I don’t run out of water midway. I’m no Trojan, so I like a light pot. Mine is an inexpensive aluminum pasta-cooking pot that comes with a handy, deep insert. I take it everywhere.
• If you don’t have a practical perforated insert for the pot then you will need a strainer to scoop the veggies from the water. A large Chinese mesh spoon works nicely here, except when you are blanching bitty things like peas and corn, in which cases a fine-mesh strainer works best.
• A tub of ice water is also very handy. I’ve lived in apartments where the freezers never worked, so I know that one can get by with a good rush of cold water from the tap. However, for the speedy chilling of freshly blanched vegetables, nothing beats a basin of very icy water.
• Here’s what you don’t need: SALT! My Western chef friends look at me cross-eyed when I say that salt is unnecessary for blanching, but it is. The Chinese never use it, and neither do I.
1½ tablespoons finely minced fresh ginger
1½ tablespoons finely minced garlic
3 tablespoons thinly sliced green and white scallion rings
¼ to ½ teaspoon dried red chili flakes
SAUCE:
¾ cup unsweetened coconut milk
2 tablespoons mushroom soy sauce
2 tablespoons unseasoned Japanese rice vinegar
1 tablespoon juice from China Moon Pickled Ginger (page 8)
1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
¾ teaspoon Chinese chili sauce
1 teaspoon China Moon Curry Powder (page 7)
¼ teaspoon China Moon Ten-Spice (page 6)
1 cup Vegetable Infusion (page 82) or unsalted vegetable stock
1 carrot, cut diagonally into rippled or plain coins ⅛ inch thick
⅓ cup fresh peas, ½ cup sugar snap peas, or 6 to 8 fresh baby corn, halved or quartered lengthwise if thick
3 to 4 tablespoons corn or peanut oil, for stir-frying
1 yellow onion, cut into ¼-inch moons
1 red or yellow bell pepper, cut into ¾-inch squares
1 leek, white part only, split lengthwise, then cut crosswise into ¼-inch half-moons
2 to 3 Chinese eggplants, cut diagonally into rounds ¼ inch thick
½ pound assorted domestic and/or wild mushrooms, trimmed and cut, if large
2 packed cups wide ribbons of Napa cabbage or ruby chard
2 packed cups spinach
2½ teaspoons cornstarch dissolved in 2 tablespoons cold stock or water
1 package fresh enoki mushrooms, spongy base removed
Diagonally cut green and white scallion rings, for garnish
1. Combine the aromatics in a small dish and seal until ready to use.
2. Combine all of the sauce ingredients in a bowl. Stir to blend, leaving the spoon in the bowl.
3. Bring a saucepan of water to a rolling boil. Blanch the carrots for 15 seconds. Submerge in ice water to chill; drain. If you are using them, blanch the peas or snap peas for 10 seconds, or the baby corn for 30 to 60 seconds, until tender-crisp. Chill the vegetable in ice water; drain.
4. About 15 minutes before serving, heat a wok or large heavy skillet over high heat until a bead of water evaporates on contact. Add 2½ tablespoons of the oil and swirl to glaze the pan. Reduce the heat to moderately high. When the oil is hot enough to foam a dab of ginger, add the aromatics to the pan. Stir gently until fully fragrant, 20 to 30 seconds, adjusting the heat so they foam without browning.
5. Add the onions and toss briskly until wilted, about 2 minutes. Add the bell peppers and leeks, and toss until somewhat softened, 2 minutes more. Adjust the heat to maintain a merry sizzle and drizzle a bit more oil down the side of the pan, if needed to prevent sticking. Add the carrots and toss to combine. Add the eggplant and mushrooms, and toss until hot, about 2 minutes more. Drizzle in a bit more oil only if the vegetables are sticking. Don’t rush to feed the eggplant; it will drink up all you give it.
6. Add the cabbage or chard and toss just until wilted. Add the spinach and toss to combine. Stir the sauce and add it to the pan. Bring it to a simmer, stirring once or twice. Quickly stir the cornstarch mixture to recombine and add it to the pan. Stir until the sauce turns glossy and slightly thick, 15 to 20 seconds. Add half of the enoki and toss to mix.
7. Serve immediately. Garnish each portion with a straight-standing cluster of the reserved enoki and a scattering of scallion rings.
I often call Chinese cooking “the original California cooking.” Shopping at a daily market and buying vegetables in season and fish and meat from beasts raised close to home are the truisms of traditional Chinese cooking, as well as good cooking the world over.
Sure, you may yearn for asparagus before or after the season is in full swing. But the first stuff is typically undeveloped in flavor, while the late stuff is often dull. When something has been shipped “fresh” from another continent, it often means that it was picked too young for its flavors to ripen.
Seasonality and locality are the great bywords in choosing vegetables. Find what’s local; it will be best. Farm stands are better sources than supermarkets. Local markets with farm connections and daily shipments are better than giant chains with warehouses. Even in big cities, look for weekend farmer’s markets or the modest shops in ethnic neighborhoods that buy directly from the source. Patronize them so that they will flourish along with your stock of delicious vegetables.
MENU SUGGESTIONS: This is a great one-dish supper when served on top of a Pot-Browned Noodle Pillow (page 401) or a Broad Noodle Pillow (page 403). A less sexy but equally good choice would be a bowl of steamed rice. The vegetables can also be served as an accompaniment to fish, meat, or poultry. The sauce is rich so the main course needs to be very simple.