Three-Cup Chicken
A few weeks ago the IK attended a literary event sponsored by the San Francisco Chapter of Les Dames d’Escoffier. There numerous Bay Area authors–and a few non-Bay Area folk–gathered to meet, greet, and share nibbles the authors had prepared from their cookbooks, conveniently for sale on nearby tables.
Said event transpired at the San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market, so named for the location, the Ferry Plaza Terminal Building. A ferry is indeed involved. See the ferry’s walkway, above. That’s the Bay Bridge on the right, and Oakland off in the distance.
Returning to our post…
The IK, for all her nattering here, is rather shy when it comes to the meet and greet thing. And despite living a few Rapid Transit stops from the famed Market, the IK rarely visits. Yes, a beautiful spot. But…
The shops! Stocked with insanely overpriced, crushingly hip merch, crammed with tourists eagerly opening their wallets….and for what? Cunningly wrapped nuts?
The location of this bookish event being unclear, the IK squeezed herself up and down the length of the packed market. No literary event announced itself amid fungi foraged from Marin backyards or heritage charcuterie, cured from hogs with biographies. Out in the bracing air, the IK spotted Niloufer Ichaporia King, author of My Bombay Kitchen. Politely approaching Ms. King and her friends, the IK asked whether they might be attending the literary event. Indeed, they were. Follow them, right upstairs!
Lo, the IK encountered the definition of “soaring architecture.” Were you to peek over the railing, the whole of the market would unfold beneath you.
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Kvetching aside, it was a lovely day. Everyone friendly and welcoming–including the hawkers of said merch. The highlight was meeting author Carolyn Phillips and her husband, J. H. Huang. Ms. Phillips wrote and illustrated The Dim Sum Field Guide and All Under Heaven. She also blogs at Madame Huang’s Kitchen.
Ms. Phillips illustrated the book’s cover herself. Have I mentioned she’s fluent in Mandarin? Do you feel like worm yet?
Phillips lived and worked in Taiwan for eight years, and it shows, for to truly understand Chinese food–as opposed to just cooking it, however respectfully–one must acquire an understanding of Chinese history, a passing knowledge of Chinese geography, and ideally, some linguistic skills. For most Westerners this is a tall order, even an impossible one. Those of us lacking the aforementioned must acknowledge we’ve fallen in love with a cuisine we will never wholly master. Yes, we can learn to prepare Chinese food that tastes delicious. And that’s a wonderful thing. But our comprehension of that food–its history, whether we’ve prepared it properly, what region it hails from–may forever elude us.
This is why books like All Under Heaven are so important. Even as Phillips steps into the breach left by easier cookbooks–there are no meals in minutes here–she’s an easygoing, friendly narrator, given to accusing herself of nerdiness. This doesn’t mean the recipes are simple or the ingredients are commonly found in Western pantries. Neither should pose obstacles to serious cooks and/or those, like me, who long for intelligent cookbooks feeding both brain and body. So don’t be daunted. Get cooking.
Much as I’ve wanted to take a deep dive into All Under Heaven and write about it–something Ms. Phillips generously consented to–time hasn’t permitted. I began with Three-Cup Chicken for no better reason than all the ingredients were to hand.
Geographically, Three-Cup Chicken is a coastal Southeastern dish, one of “Taiwan’s Military Family Dishes.” Paraphrasing Phillips, when military families from all over China lived together in Taiwanese Military Compounds, their cuisines met, mingled, and fused into a “highly savory and also economical” series of dishes. As Three-Cup Chicken calls for some unusual ingredients, let’s briefly discuss them.
Rock Sugar: Crystallized sugar. For Three-Cup chicken, or any other braised recipe, it will melt during slow cooking. Measurement by approximation is fine. Substituting regular sugar is okay, but Phillips prefers rock sugar for its pure flavors. Yellow rock sugar is preferable to white, which is bleached.
Rice Wine: Increasingly available; look in the “International Foods” aisle of larger markets. It’s often near the soy sauces. Cheaper versions are not meant for drinking. Asian markets carry wider selections, including drinkable rice wines, which, like sake, are heated. If you really cannot find rice wine, substitute sherry, but know the taste profiles are entirely different.
Ideally, Three-Cup Chicken is prepared in a sandpot. I’ve discussed sandpots before. Yes, another 2-4 quart lidded casserole will work, so long as you don’t use naked cast iron. But given how incredibly cheap sandpots are, why haven’t you bought one yet?
About the chicken wings in this dish: they are whacked–truly the best descriptor–into two or three pieces. A sharp Chinese cleaver is best for this, sharp being the operative term here. Mine is not. My meat cleaver, however, is terrifying.
Sharp or no, the meat cleaver wasn’t ideal, being too heavy for my howling paws. Inexpert hacks at the poor wings splintered their delicate bones rather than making clean cuts. The result was a dish you wouldn’t want to serve anyone but your long-suffering spouse, and only to him after you’d acted as palace taster, plucking the poultry from those wee bone shards to make safe serving. So word to the wise: get your knives sharpened before making Three-Cup Chicken, or leave the wings whole. I myself love gnawing chicken wings entire, but as noted recently, my table manners are going to hell in a Carrier Air Conditioning Unit um, never mind.
Three-Cup Chicken
From Carolyn Phillips’ All Under Heaven
Yield: Serves 6-8 as an appetizer or 2-4 as a main dish, depending on what else is served
2 pounds chicken wings, ideally organic
4 inches fresh ginger, peeled; about 1/2 cup
16 cloves garlic, peeled but kept whole
1/4 cup peanut or canola oil
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 tablespoon rock sugar or regular white sugar
1/4 cup rice wine
1 tablespoon sesame oil
4 scallions, trimmed, white parts sliced into 1/2 inch segments, green parts sliced as thinly as possible; they are used separately.
2-4 red peppers, thinly sliced, optional (I used one green Thai pepper; market had no red)
1 cup basil leaves, stemmed, larger leaves chopped (optional, I omitted them)
A Chinese sandpot and a cleaver are preferred but not required. Otherwise, you’ll need a 2-4 quart lidded pot that can be used stovetop. Don’t use cast iron, as it will react with the ingredients. Sandpots must be heated and cooled slowly; allow hot pot to cool before washing. Place hot pot on wooden board; never place on cold surface.
Trim the wingtips from wings, saving them for stock.
Using a sharp, thin-bladed Chinese cleaver or heavy chef’s knife, cut the chicken wings into two or three pieces, according to preference–or leave whole, if you prefer.
Slice the ginger as thinly as possible, aiming for about 1/2 cup.
If you haven’t peeled the garlic, do so now, leaving the cloves whole.
Heat the peanut or canola oil in a 2-4 quart lidded pot. I used a 2 1/2 quart sandpot.
Once the oil is shimmering, add the ginger and fry, stirring often. Cook until golden and browned at the edges. The smell will be maddening. Using a slotted spoon, remove ginger to a plate and set aside.
Add chicken to the now maddening ginger-scented oil and brown, stirring constantly. Depending on the size of your pot, chicken may be stacked. That’s okay.
When all chicken pieces are nicely browned, add the soy sauce, rock or regular sugar, rice wine, sesame oil, reserved ginger slices, and the white portions of scallions.
Bring the pot to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low simmer. Cover the pot and cook for about 45 minutes, or until chicken has become tender and sauce has begun reducing. Add the garlic cloves, cover pot again, and continue cooking until chicken is cooked through–another 15 to 30 minutes. Total cooking time will run 60-90 minutes, depending on your pot and stove.
At this stage, the original recipe calls for reducing the sauce until only oil remains. When I made this, the chicken finished cooking long before the sauce reduced. Finding the sauce too delicious to boil off, I opted to stop here.
If you prefer to reduce the sauce, check chicken for doneness: it is cooked through when completely tender, with no trace of pink remaining. If so, remove wings to a platter, keeping warm in a low oven while finishing sauce. If not, keep chicken in the pot. Turn up the heat, allowing sauce to reduce until only oil remains.
To serve: add the optional basil leaves, minced hot pepper, and the green scallion.
We ate this with lots of white rice and dry-fried bitter melon.
Three-Cup Chicken keeps, refrigerated, 2-3 days, but is at its best consumed immediately.
Notes:
Exercise caution when handling raw poultry. Wash your hands, utensils, and cutting boards with warm soapy water. Use clean, fresh dishtowels rather than the same wet one. While wooden cutting boards are aesthetically pleasing, they are difficult to keep clean. Mine kept getting deep knife cuts, and bacteria collected in those cuts. No amount of mineral oil helped. I switched to FDA-grade plastic cutting boards, which are much easier to care for. Rest boards on a damp dishcloth to stabilize them. If you are still concerned about poultry bacteria, run half a lemon over board after washing with warm soapy water. Do the same with your hands.
