Chinese

Chinese influence in India is ancient—the two nations have been trading since the BCs. The older Chinese restaurants in the major cities serve an Indianized version of Chinese food, and Indians at home think nothing of adding a bit of soy sauce to this and that. Here is one such modern dish. Ideally, the pork should be marinated overnight. Plain Jasmine Rice and any vegetable dish would be perfect.

New York City has a Chinese takeout restaurant on every corner and oddly enough they all seem to have the same menu. Maybe it all comes out of the same kitchen—who knows? What I do know is that Chinese spareribs are one of my favorite junk foods on the planet. This is my variation of the classic Chinese spareribs No. 5. Be warned, they are really addictive. When preparing ribs, slower and longer is always better.

Slicing the beef paper-thin when stir-frying will get the meat nice and crispy, so make sure your knife is sharp. If tangerines are not in season, oranges make a fine substitute and no one will be the wiser. The only weird ingredient is the black Chinese vinegar. It has a sweet, malted flavor that is very traditional in Chinese cooking. If you’re a purist about Chinese food, the black vinegar will be worth the trip to an Asian market. If you can’t find it, I’m not going to tell anyone if you substitute balsamic vinegar.

Hong Kong is a truly eye-popping place for a food lover. The dai pai dong (food stalls) around Stanley Street on Hong Kong Island are full of noodle shops, fishmongers, live chickens, and a dazzling display of the strangest produce I have ever seen. The whole place smells like ginger and fresh coriander—I had a blast. When I got back to New York I was playing around with some of the flavors that I had experienced and came up with these crab cakes. Although crab cakes are not exactly Chinese, the flavors are pure Hong Kong. These crab cakes can easily be prepared ahead of time. Serve with Perfect Steamed Jasmine Rice (page 240).

I stepped up on a cinder block to enter the open kitchen and realized then just how short the cook was; he flicked on the burner and the flame shot up as high as his chin. His broom closet-size kitchen swelled with heat and even with my average height, I towered over him awkwardly as he wielded the wok with beef and soy sauce. "You must play basketball!" he suggested. On his kitchen wall and out of reach of the blazing flame, plastic bags of spices hung from low-set rusty hooks, and his windowsill nearby lay scattered with tangerine peels set out to dry in the sun. Cooks in China are in the habit of keeping the peels of the tangerines they eat and spreading them out to dry in the sun for later use. Then they just rehydrate a few pieces whenever they want to add a nutty, slightly bitter note to a stir-fry or stew. Tangerine Beef is a Sichuan specialty and tall on flavor.

You can buy premade Chinese dumpling wrappers from any Asian grocery store, and in most cases they work as well and taste as good as homemade wrappers. However, Shanghai Soup Dumplings should be made with homemade wrappers or they will not hold their soup when steaming. If you are making wrappers for Shanghai Soup Dumplings, try to keep the center of the wrappers thicker than the edges when rolling the dough disks.

It is no coincidence that in Chinese, the word for "family" (jia) is the same as the word for "home"; home is a central part of family life in China. Parents, children, mothers-in-law, grandparents, and other family members often all live together for generations, taking care of one another. Jiaozi, or classic Chinese dumplings, is a dish that celebrates this supportive community. Often made at holidays, these labor-intensive dumplings are prepared in an assembly line, with the greatest to the least in the family all having a hand in their production. The process starts when wheat dough is kneaded, rolled flat into teacup-size circles, and stacked as dumpling wrappers. The next person in the line spoons a pork or vegetable filling (depending on the recipe) in the center of each wrap before passing them on to the "crimper." My first experience making jiaozi was at the house of one of my professors, Mr. Zhang. Having been invited to dinner, I was surprised when Mr. Zhang put me to work in the kitchen. I was the "crimper," charged with folding and crimping the edge of the dumpling wrappers to form plump, sealed pockets of goodness ready to be thrown into a boiling pot. That night, in the room full of brothers, sisters, cousins, and grandparents who were not my own, all of us working together to make jiaozi, I felt more like family than simply a guest in the Zhang home. Invite your friends and family over and put them to work. We like to make more dumplings than we can eat and freeze the extra for later. If you throw all the freshly made dumplings into a plastic bag, they will freeze stuck together into one giant block of dumplings. To avoid this, first spread out the uncooked dumplings on a lightly greased baking sheet, taking care that they do not touch each other. Place the sheet in the freezer for about 30 minutes. Then throw all the dumplings into a large resealable plastic bag and store in the freezer. When you are ready to eat them, do not defrost the dumplings, but cook them frozen exactly like you would fresh dumplings—just add 3 minutes to the cooking time.

The great thing about making chef Chang's fiery cuisine at home is that you control the heat with the chili oil and Sichuan peppercorns. They give this dish its distinctive color, flavor, and heat.

The trick to a successful stir-fry? Have all your ingredients prepped so that you can cook quickly over high heat. In professional kitchens it's called mise en place, or "put in place."

Head to a local Chinese supermarket for the ginger in syrup and, while you're there, pick up a package of glass or cellophane noodles to serve this with. Tangy ginger and flavorful hoisin work so well with duck. Make sure you render the duck breasts well when cooking to get that ultimate crispy skin.

Craig promises that if you follow this recipe, you can make dizzyingly delicious Chinatown char siu ribs at home in the oven or on the grill. That makes them a great choice for the winter, when you've got a hankering for ribs and the smoker is snowed in. Many Chinese restaurants use spareribs that are chopped into 3- to 4-inch riblets. If you want, your butcher can make you riblets with a band saw. Craig likes baby backs for this recipe because they are a bit meatier. You can also substitute 4 pounds of pork loin for the ribs if you wish. The booze is important for the marinade because it helps penetrate the meat, and even if you're a teetotaler, don't worry—there isn't any measurable alcohol in the ribs. If you must skip it, use apple juice or water. You can buy char siu sauce at Chinese specialty stores, and it makes a fine glaze, but it doesn't make ribs that taste like Chinese restaurant ribs. That's because you need to marinate the meat in a thin sauce first.

The rice needs to stir-fry in a generous amount of oil. (It's fried rice, after all.) If you don't use enough oil, the dish starts to taste more like a rice casserole. Note that except for the 2 eggs, 1 onion, and 1 garlic clove, all the other ingredients begin with 4.

Sichuan peppercorns are a wonderful ingredient to have on hand—they lend such an unusual fragrance and flavor to foods (and not just savory foods; check out chef Raquel Carena's Mocha Mousse with Sichuan Peppercorns). In China, cooks traditionally toast the peppercorns to release their aroma and then grind them together with salt. Juicy roast chicken liberally rubbed with this spice blend makes a universally appealing dish. Its flavor is warm and subtle—serve the extra spice blend on the side so guests can sprinkle more on if they want to.

This traditional sweet is believed to have originated in Sichuan, where walnut trees from Persia were first planted in China. As with many Chinese foods, the walnut is imbued with symbolic meaning: it is believed to benefit the mind because the shelled nut looks like a brain lobe. Brain food or not, the walnut was a deliciously significant sweet long ago in Sichuan and western China. Reminiscent of halvah, mashed walnuts encased in a thin, flaky dough and covered with sugar syrup is a famed tea-time dish and just one of many Sichuan creations based on walnuts. In this recipe, walnuts go through four distinct cooking processes: they are boiled, reboiled, glazed, and finally deep-fried. Once a provincial sweet, they emanated outward from Sichuan many years ago, turning up in restaurants in Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Hong Kong, usually as appetite-whetting, pre-meal snacks and just as often as snacks to conclude a meal along with fresh fruit. They were quickly dubbed "honey walnuts," though they are glazed with sugar syrup. They began to appear in the West about forty years ago, with the onset of the popularity of Sichuan and Hunan restaurants. These days, they are a standard offering. One particularly attractive aspect of these crisp, sweet walnuts is that they do not become soft if stored properly. Packed into an airtight container and left at room temperature, they will keep for at least 1 week. They will keep for at least 6 months in the freezer, and when served directly from freezer to table, they will still be crisp. Although I do recommend freezing them for an inordinate time, I did once leave them in the freezer for a year as an experiment. They were perfectly crisp and not at all stale. If you decide to make walnuts for storage, do not double the recipe, as the walnuts won't cook properly. Instead, make individual batches. Pecans can be prepared the same way.

Sea bass are generally found swimming in the tanks of Chinatown fish markets. They are usually small because the fishmongers also sell to restaurants, which typically like to steam the larger fish. Steaming, as I have noted, is the preferred way for cooking whole live fish. But if you are unable to find a live fish, fresh flounder, sole, or red snapper will do nicely for this recipe.

Grandma also serves the rich, spicy soup with cucumber salad and scallion pancakes.

If you are looking for something a little different to accompany a stir-fry, try panfried Chinese noodles as crisp vehicles for umami-loaded Asian sauces.

Singapore-style noodles are a favorite in Chinese-American restaurants and are traditionally made using leftover Cantonese roast pork. The dish is lightly seasoned with Indian curry powder, giving the thin rice noodles a beautiful yellow hue. The curry flavor explains the dish's name: Singapore cooking exhibits a significant Indian influence. Stir-fried with small shrimp and peas, this colorful dish can be made ahead of time and very successfully reheated. Cantonese roast pork can be found in Chinese markets. You'll recognize the long and thick reddish-golden meat strips hanging in the window to entice passersby.

This cold sesame noodle dish is one of the most popular dishes in Chinese restaurants. My family recipe is simple, made with readily available ingredients. It's a great blank canvas for adding all sorts of leftover proteins. I have made the dish with shredded roast chicken and duck, as well as sliced pork and beef. Sesame paste, often referred to as tahini, can be found in health food stores or the international foods aisle of your supermarket. If you can't find it, try unsalted 100 percent pure peanut or almond butter, which will give you different, but equally tasty, results.

Feel free to use leftover rice from last night's takeout. The secret to good fried rice is starting with cold cooked grains.