Ariel Sichuan BBQ Restaurant

[caption id="attachment_199" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Chongqing Fish"][/caption]

About

 Located in a slightly dingy Sheung Wan mall, this restaurant hasn’t really done much to distance its decor from the functionality of the shops around it. The owner greeted us enthusiastically in English honed during past years living in Canada, and overall the waistaff were eager to please. 

Chongqing style barbecue fish is quite difficult to get in Hong Kong, so this restaurant already has one big draw. This dish looked magnificent when it arrived. The big fish was sunk into the deep red chili broth, a dark mass of Sichuan peppercorns, crushed peanuts, ginger and garlic piled over its back, promising that intense spiciness that only Sichuan food can deliver. The flavours didn’t quite live up to this bold display, but they still proved satisfying enough.

Gentle barbequing had given the fish skin a slightly ashen crispiness, going well with flesh which broke apart into soft chunks and tasted extremely fresh.  Heated from beneath, the fish slowly sunk down into the chili broth around it, its spongy white flesh soaking up some of the powerful spice.

The broth wasn’t toned down into blandness like some imitation-Sichuan food can be. But even with the Sichuan peppercorns scattered into it, the flavour still wasn’t quite as wonderfully intense and bold as that of some versions. Getting the tingling ‘mouth numbing’ flavour meant eating a lot of the peppercorns with the broth.  A few more of the slightly sparse Sichuan chili peppers might have added to the sauces power.

The sour Fish also made an extravagant entrance, scattered with a forest of fresh green coriander and big white rings of onion. Like the Chongqing dish, it gained in appeal as the different vegetables diffused their flavours into the broth and the fish soaked up the flavours.  The fresh vegetables gave an intriguingly sour flavour to the broth, but this always remained too subtle. It was tempting to keep turning back to the Chongqing dish for its more powerful flavours.

Overall, the dishes offered fresh fish well prepared, but both were lacking something hard to define that would make them really spectacular. It was pleasing however to sit and pick pieces of tender flesh from the fish, watching as the broths bubbled and their flavours grew gradually more intense.   

[caption id="attachment_200" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Sour Fish"][/caption]

Directions

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=110278381660667080594.00045eee009a4d17a789b&s=AARTsJriVjY5ys5W22Wjn7F_m96D7v_YyA&ll=22.2859,114.148486&spn=0.001737,0.00228&z=18&output=embed&w=425&h=350]

Shop A18, 1/F Broadway Plaza, 2-12 Queen's Road West, Sheung Wan

Price  

HK$ 150 per person

Notes

Tel: 2851 7397

Beijing Beef (Halal) Restaurant Kowloon City

[caption id="attachment_190" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Beef Parcels - The Highlight at Beijing Beef (Halal) Restaurant"][/caption]

 

About

Anyone hoping to have distinctly Islamic-chinese dishes here might be a little dissapointed. When we asked which were special dishes, the waiter said that everything on the menu was Islamic because there was "mouh yuhk" (no pork) and the meat was halal. Instead the menu was a mix with mostly Beijing dishes, some Shanghai things like "siu lung bau" and "green onion pancakes", and a couple of Sichuanese items. 

The mutton with spring onion we had was  good - tasting similar to a Chinese fried beef dish, but with the mutton adding a little bit of extra earthiness and succulence. The 'speciality' Islamic fried rice was also very enjoyable, free from the off putting oiliness of a lot of fried rice and with a lot of mushrooms and meat mixed in to make it feel quite substantial. It was darker and earthier than most fried rice dishes, but otherwise I couldn't work out exactly what made it distinctly Islamic.

 

[caption id="attachment_191" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Mutton and Spring Onion"][/caption]

 

Really, it was the smaller things that were more appealing. The 'green onion pancakes' - a great Shanghai dish - were really well done. They were just thick enough to make them slightly soft and chewy, but not so thick that they tasted overwhelmingly bready. Instead of the bland crisped bread you get in some places, the green onion and ingredients inside had quite a strong flavour here that made them more satisfying to eat. 

The highlight of the meal was the 'veal goulash' which, despite the name, are large dumplings with meat and soupy broth inside. The freshly made dough outside was thick, but not overwhelmingly doughy, its sides given a really beautiful blistered crispness. When you bite into this great, savoury casing, the warm, rich, meaty broth of the dumpling spills out into your mouth wonderfully.  Then at the centre, the spongy soft veal has absorbed a really delicious, full flavour. 

Only these parcels warrented a special excursion to this restaurant and it would probably be pretty satisfying just to come and eat a few of these without getting any of the other dishes. The other things, whilst affordable, and cooked well enough, were nothing that special. 

Directions

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=23+Lung+Kong+Road,+Kowloon+City,+Kowloon+Hongkong&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.945679,78.75&ie=UTF8&s=AARTsJr7SInk6nBoexA0LU0rHtxoKHDDsg&ll=22.329068,114.19065&spn=0.003474,0.00456&z=17&output=embed&w=425&h=350]

Kowloon City's annoyingly far from any MTR stations. Probably the best way to get here is to take the MTR to Mong Kok and then head for Fa Yuen street where there are red minibuses which will whisk you across to Kowloon City. 

Address: The Beijing Beef Restaurant G/F 23 Lung Kong Road, Kowloon City, Kowloon

Tel: 2718 3809

Cost

HK $50

Cooking Huhng Siu Yuhk

[caption id="attachment_176" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Everything Laid Out"][/caption]

I really like Fuschia Dunlop's writing on food, and her recipes for reproducing authentic dishes. She has a recipe for huhng siu yuhk (red brasied pork belly) that I've been meaning to try for some time. There are some good places to get this dish in Hong Kong, but its also interesting to try cooking these things for yourself.  This is one of my favourite Chinese dishes, with beautifully soft cubes of fatty meat that melt in the mouth, and a gloopy black sauce full of a wine and liquorish flavours. Hopefully only by coincidence, this also happened to be Chairman Mao's favourite dish. Like him, it originates from the Hunan district of China. 

Fuschia's Introduction

Red-braised pork is a dish that in Hunan is inseparably bound up with the memory of Chairman Mao: many restaurants call it “The Mao Family’s red-braised pork.” Mao Zedong loved it, and insisted his Hunanese chefs cook it for him in Beijing. It’s a robust concoction, best eaten with plain steamed rice and simple stir-fried vegetables; the sweet, aromatic chunks of meat are irresistible.

Ingredients

The first hurdle I met with this dish was acquiring ingredients. I thought I understood the butcher when we discussed the price of the meat. He asked me if I wanted it cut and I decided that it would save hassle to get him to cube it for me. Before I knew it he was hacking away with his cleaver and a big pile of meat was stacked up. He charged me HK $170 and I now have enough pork belly to feed the whole of China. I later also realised that the pieces still had bones in - and had to exercise my own lacklustre cleaver skills to resolve this.

I then went to buy aniseed, which I'd seen so many times walking around Sheung Wan. But for some reason, today it all seemed to have vanished. Not knowing the word, I tried to draw it in various stalls, but the reactions ranged between completely blank looks and one place where they brought out a starfish. Finally I found out the word is 'baat gok' and this sped things up no end. The other ingredients were pretty straightforward. Cinammon from a little India store, and the guy on another stall even gave me the dried chilis for free.





 

• 1lb of Pork Belly (skin optional)


• 2 tablespoons of peanut oil


• 2 tablespoons of white sugar


• 1 tablespoon of Shaoxing wine


• Fresh ginger - a 3/4 inch piece


• 1 star of anise


• 2 dried red chilis


• A small piece of cassia bark or a cinammon stick


• Light soy sauce


• Salt 


• Sugar


• Scallion greens

Steps

1. Plunge the pork belly into a pan of boiling water and simmer for 3 or 4 minutes, until partially cooked. Remove and, when cool enough to handle, cut into bite-sized chunks.


2. Heat the oil and white sugar in a wok over a gentle flame until the sugar melts, then raise the heat and stir until the melted sugar turns a rich caramel brown. Add the pork and splash in the Shaoxing wine


3. Add enough water to just cover the pork, along with the ginger, star anise, chiles, and cassia. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer for 40 to 50 minutes.


4. Toward the end of the cooking time, turn up the heat to reduce the sauce, and season with soy sauce, salt, and a little sugar to taste. Add the scallion greens just before serving.

Fuschia's Notes

In Shaoshan, Mao’s home village, cooks traditionally leave the skin intact for maximum succulence, and cut the meat into rather large chunks, perhaps 1 1/2 inches long; I tend to make the pieces a little smaller. This recipe takes its color from caramelized sugar, which gives it a lovely reddish gloss, but many people just use dark soy sauce at home.

Report

Overall, this wasn't a difficult dish to make reasonably well. The only point at which I had slight difficulty was adding the pork to the sugar and oil. I found that the pork made the sugar spit upwards on contact, coating the walls around the stove. Because the pork is slow cooked over a couple of hours, this dish also requires quite a large investment of time. It not hand's on time like risotto, but you do need to be there to check on it now and then. I felt that by the end, the pieces of pork did have a very intense flavour because they had been able to absorb it over such a long period of time.

I'm not sure I got the balance of anise and wine and sugar quite right and might have made it a touch sweeter on I didn't really feel the pork in my version was as soft as it could have been. I'd like to begin with fattier pork, as the fat wasn't that distinctive here. I also might try to cook it even slower if possible, but the burner I used kept going out when left on a really low heat.

Boh Loh Bau

[caption id="attachment_167" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="The Humble Magnificent Boh Loh Bau"][/caption]

This is a personal ode to one of my favourite snacks in Hong Kong. The wonderful boh loh bau, or pineapple bun, which actually doesn't contain any pineapple at at all. Nobody seems to have quite made up their mind why its got this name, but I'm guessing its because the top crust has a texture a bit like that on the outsides of pineapples. In some places you also see them called 'rocky buns' - an alternative name also drawn from the virtually unique topping.

The bo loh bau is essentially a white bread bun with a slightly sugary custardy topping poured like molten lava over the top and left to soldify into the unique slightly cracked crust. It's the contrast in texture between the slightly crispy, crumbly crust and the spongy bread beneath that makes them so delightful to eat. Available in almost every Chinese  bakery, of which there are thousands in Hong Kong, the boh loh bau actually vary quite a lot from one place to another. In some the crust will be really crisp, like a hard shell over the soft bread beneath. At others it will be more crumbly and soft.  You can also go to the cha chaan tengs and take your boh loh bau buttered, with a cup of silken tea. This makes each new bau you have an adventure, while at the same time most still achieve delightful results.

Even with the variation however, one thing remains consistent. That is that bo loh bau are best fresh. Ideally you want to step into the bakery just as the man at the back is pulling a tray out of the over. You want to watch as he lays down a dozen or more boh loh bau with golden tops glowing, and to know that one of those is yours. When fresh each bite fills the mouth with warmth; the bread of the boh loh bau has a more sublime softness, and the top while lightly crisped still has that molten, slightly buttery quality that makes it really amazing. The whole thing just melts in your mouth and I find I can eat one, two, three, four, or more without really noticing at all. To experience this subtle delight, its worth noting the baking times of the bakery nearest to you, so you can dash out quickly.

For me, this is the ultimate comfort food. Whenever I'm anxious about something, or feeling a bit glum, my first instinct is to head out and pick up a bo loh bau. There's something soothing about biting into it and getting that familiar texture and taste. If I'm walking somewhere, the walk is always made better by stopping off to pick up a boh lo bau. But equally often, the bau becomes the excuse for the walk rather than the opposite way around. Sometimes I find I've got up from my desk, put shoes on, gone out of the door, and made it all the way to the nearest bakery without even quite realising I've moved at all. In fact, rarely a day goes by here when I don't find some excuse for picking up at least one bau.

Boh loh bau are a hidden icon of Hong Kong, as much as the tram of the the Star Ferry. In the Hong Kong comedy Chicken Duck Talk, there's a great scene where the main character battles against the tendency of the boh loh bau crust to fall off by squashing the whole thing down with his fork until its virtually destroyed. I'm told this is common practice. In the mainland, and Chinatowns accross the world, boh loh bau are sold as a distinctive Hong Kong snack. Whilst back in Birmingham UK a while ago, I trekked over to China Town and paid more than two pounds (HK $30) for a slightly dried out imitation of the genuine boh loh bau. This is almosy a luxury food item, while here in Hong Kong the bau are so cheap that people almost forget how special they are. 

Of course there are other breads in the bakeries which also come close to this zenith. The lihn yeung bau, egg tarts, cha siu bau, and others can all be almost as impressive. Different bakeries tend to do one of these particularly well, so it's worth visiting them all. What I also like is how each different bakery has its own character. Some are bustling, with customers shoving past each other in the crampt space. Other's are more relaxed, the owner sat dreamily behind the counter. Some stay open into the lonely hours of the morning, while others have fresh breads laid out late afternoon and then shut their doors soon after. 

Directions

Sometime soon I want to do a real face off between the different bo loh bau in Hong Kong. But for now you will have to settle for this map of some of the bakeries around the island.

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=110278381660667080594.00045ff04b94d411bc341&s=AARTsJqrWMm7tDy4GZGRW2ILYeqlFGmMXA&ll=22.286228,114.142784&spn=0.013898,0.018239&z=15&output=embed&w=425&h=350]

Cost

HK $2

Ka Kee

About

I had walked past this place many times and been intrigued by the traditional wooden front and the crowds inside, but never actually got round to trying it. Finally, in search of some authentic Cantonese food, I managed to get along and was really impressed by what I found. This place offers very solid Cantonese food at affordable prices.

Chinese soups can sometimes be watery and really bland, but here the seasonal soup was a pleasing way to start the meal. The broth was full of flavour, with the meat bones and chinese vegetables giving it a distinctive, slightly bitter taste and the addition of almonds balancing with this nicely. The large pieces of potato were really earthy and went well with this broth, adding a bit of substance.

After that, we had the steamed mince meat and cuttlefish in a copper pot. This is meant to be older Hong Kong people's favourite, probably partly because it is so soft they can eat it even if they've lost most of their teeth. The version here had really soft, spongy minced meat and cuttlefish which complimented each other well.  Instead of the rubbery texture in some places, the meat had kept a strong taste, added to by the dark sauce around it, which unlike some versions of this dish didn't drown the meaty flavours.

The drunken chicken here was superb and one of the best examples of this I have tasted. The chicken pieces beautifully juicy, their smooth white flesh holding the wine flavour in a way that made it even more succulent, but not tasting too potently of alcohol. Perhaps what really made the dish though was the fresh green vegetables scattered on top, and the really strong crushed garlic, both of which went perfectly with the texture of the meat.

The duck dish was also very satisfying, although it was hard to decide whether it was really that traditionally Cantonese or just a luxury dish. Still, to get such tender, perfectly cooked slices of duck for so little money feels like a real luxury to me. There skin was brown and slightly crisp, while the meat inside was still pink and soft and not dried out at all. The dish came with a taco basket full of fried tofu, the spongy texture of which went perfectly with the meatier pieces of duck. 

Photos

[caption id="attachment_131" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Seasonal Soup"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_133" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Miced Pork and Cuttlefish in a Copper Pot"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_132" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Drunken Chicken"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_134" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Duck with Fried Tofu"][/caption]

Directions

This place is easy to spot because of its very traditional looking wooden fronting. Walking along Queen's Road towards Kennedy town, its on the left hand side of  Queens Road, just after the road crosses Water Street. The address is 438 Queens Road West, Sai Ying Pun.

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=110278381660667080594.00045eee009a4d17a789b&s=AARTsJriVjY5ys5W22Wjn7F_m96D7v_YyA&ll=22.286734,114.138111&spn=0.001737,0.00228&z=18&output=embed&w=425&h=350]

Cost

About HK$ 60 - 80 a dish.

 

 

Hong Kong Flower Lounge

About

I have previously lived in Hong Kong where I would go for Dim Sum about once a week. Although the Flower Lounge's Dim Sum here doesn't quite match that, it is pretty close and is probably the best of all the Chinese Restaurants I have tried in the bay area. Unlike a lot of the restaurants around here, the Dim Sum is not swollen to suit American appetites and I feel this improves the quality.

The small, custard filled 'bo loh Bau' are really good, with a very crisp, still savoury topping. The golden, flaky pastry of the 'cha siu sou' melts in your mouth, with none of that all too common dryness. The 'ha cheung fan' (shrimp rolled in a rice wrapper) are free from the kind of doughy sloppiness which often puts me off eating them. The 'cha siu bau' (steamed bread with honeyed pork) always taste really fresh and have the right balance of sweetness and meatiness for me. The 'siu long bau' (shanghai dumplings holding soup and pork) are a little dissapointing, lacking any soup at all really. This restaurant is one of only a few places to serve 'jung' (flavoured rice cooked in large leaves, often served around the Dragon boat festivals) and these are well worth trying.

If you live in the city, its probably not worth making the trip out here specially however. The dim sum at Great Eastern is equally good and much closer to you.

Directions

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=110278381660667080594.00045fa995580a90bb9ec&s=AARTsJrYYQyzlhTZETSu0_1SZSr1yfuVMQ&ll=37.598055,-122.387933&spn=0.00595,0.00912&z=16&output=embed&w=425&h=350]

51 Millbrae Ave
Millbrae, CA 94030
(650) 692-6666

Sichuan Delight

About

I've eaten Sichuan food mostly in Hong Kong and part of the reason this doesn't get 5 stars is because I compare it to there. For America, this really is very good chinese food. I like the way these have a seperate part of the menu - Sichuan Traditional A La Carte - with more authentic Chinese dishes, whilst still offering all the American standards like 'sweet and sour' and 'general tso's chicken'.

If you stick to the list of sichuan dishes, you will be rewarded with really good chonqing style spicy chicken 'laaht zi gai'  $9.95 - golden chunks of chicken on the bone fried in an overhwelming amount of chilis. A lot of other restaurants just put a few chilis amongst the chicken, so the large numbers here are great! They give the chicken a really fiery flavour, although I couldn't taste much of the sichuan pepper which also often features in this dish.

Also pretty good here is the Spicy boiled tender beef  (seui jyu ngauh yuhk) $9.95 which has a nicely spicy sauce. The shredded pork in garlic sauce, which is really 'fish fragrant pork slivers' or (yuh heung yuhk si) has a reasonable attempt at this distinctive flavour and costs $8.25. The hot noodles with spicy peanut sauce (daan daan mihn) were worth trying for $6.95. Also try the stir-fried bean threads with ground pork - lit ants climbing up bean threads (mah ngai seung syuh) for $8.95.

Directions

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=110278381660667080594.00045fa995580a90bb9ec&s=AARTsJrYYQyzlhTZETSu0_1SZSr1yfuVMQ&ll=37.473698,-122.217812&spn=0.011921,0.018239&z=15&output=embed&w=425&h=350]



2525 El Camino Real
Redwood City, CA 94061
(650) 701-0814