see the disappointed look on the Swiss husband of one of my father’s guests. I told my father I had a craving for crispy duck and he called me a wai guo ren (foreigner) in front of his friends, at which everyone laughed, the Swiss man included. I couldn’t believe it! For the first time, I had put myself in the firing line to satisfy someone else’s craving for a particular dish. On the plus side, I now occupied the moral high ground. I had been selfless in the sacrifice of my dignity for the happiness of another and thought my Buddhist master would be proud of my spiritual development (even if I was still a self-confessed carnivore).
Since my ‘enlightening’ crispy duck experience, I was actually enlightened once again, years later, to find that crispy aromatic duck is basically Chinese in origin and not something just concocted for foreigners, bearing a resemblance to tea-smoked Sichuan duck, Cantonese roast duck and Peking duck. All four dishes use Chinese five spice, the difference being that crispy aromatic duck is deep-fried rather than oven-roasted. When I told my father this, he still maintained in his father-knows-best tone that ‘crispy duck is no good anyway because they fry the duck on its last days of freshness’.
Crispy aromatic duck seems to be confined to the UK. The debate continues about who invented it. According to the previous generation of Chinese food lovers, the Richmond Rendezvous Group – a chain of restaurants that created the boom in Chinese cuisine in the mid-1960s – was responsible for this delicious recipe that is consistently voted as the No. 1 Chinese takeaway dish in Britain.
Peking duck is equally popular: Beijingers see it as the national dish of China, the crème de la crème of all dishes. Chefs are super-proud of the delicious smoky golden skin of the duck and tender, succulent flesh, achieved by first slathering the bird in a maltose glaze and airdrying for eight hours before filling with water and cooking it in a wood-fired oven so that the meat is steamed on the inside while the outside remains crisp. At a good restaurant, the waiter will meticulously carve the skin and meat in front of you and serve the skin with some fine sugar. This will be served with thin steamed pancakes made from wheat flour, sliced cucumber, spring onions and a good tian mian jiang (sweet flour sauce). You should also expect a good restaurant to ask you how you would like the rest of the duck cooked – either in a delicious herbal broth soup or in a stir-fry with lush greens (I usually go with the chef’s recommendation). Both Peking duck and crispy duck are on my top list of favourite starters, so they are both included in this chapter, although my version of Peking duck is more like Cantonese roast duck because it is easier to recreate in the home kitchen.
I now have a tendency to judge dinner hosts based on their diplomacy when it comes to ordering (even if they are paying) and I am careful to be as sensitive as possible, to the point where I might be accused of being too nice. But better to be that, in my opinion, than greedy and selfish with no manners. There is a real art to ordering and being a good host; it takes real skill or gong-fu (kung fu). The Chinese are known for their generosity when it comes to dining, but a fine line needs to be trodden there as well: order too much and you look like a show-off; too little and you are seen as a scrooge. I take advice from my Buddhist master and that is: always finish what is on the table. It is better not to waste good food – think of all the people who go hungry.
When it comes to dinner parties at your own home, one thing is for sure: the very first dishes should impress. First impressions count. Like a teaser trailer to a blockbuster film, it should give you a hint of what to expect but without giving the whole plot away. It should excite and thrill you, satisfying you up to a point while leaving you hungry for more.
I usually serve a combination of ‘yang’ dishes, ‘yang’ being my label for ‘fried’ because it doesn’t sound so bad. Yes, we all know that fried food comes with an ‘unhealthy’ tag, but it is all a matter of what you choose to eat. If you served and ate only fried food, you would soon be in A&E. Like everything in life, food choices are about balance. ‘Yang’ is appropriate because, in food terms, it means ‘hot’ energy, i.e. food that creates more ‘heat’ within the body. The opposite of this is ‘yin’ or cooling energy. It is not good for the body to be too ‘yang’, as it puts stress on the body. So my ‘yang’ menu carries this health warning – do not serve all these fried dishes in one meal; they are meant to be served only as an accompaniment to a variety of balanced dishes.
I have included many of my favourite naughty ‘yang’ takeaway starters (see Appetisers) such as Pork and Prawn Fried Wantons and Crispy Sweet Chilli Beef Pancakes, my take on crispy duck pancakes. If this is all too ‘yang’ for you, then fear not, as I have also included some ‘leng’ starters, i.e. ‘cooling’ dishes that are more balanced and not fried (see Appetisers).
Vegetable spring rolls (chun juen)
Some may think this isn’t a traditional Chinese dish – but it is, usually eaten at the Spring Festival or Chinese New Year. It has northern Chinese roots where wheat flour is the main form of carbohydrate and bings – semi-rolled pancakes – are eaten, with various delicious fillings wrapped inside.
600ml (1 pint) groundnut oil
1 tsp of peeled and grated root ginger
100g (3½oz) shiitake mushrooms, sliced
100g (3½oz) tinned bamboo shoots, drained and cut into matchsticks
1½ tbsps of light soy sauce
1 tbsp of Chinese five-spice powder
75g (3oz) bean sprouts
2 large spring onions, sliced lengthways
1 small carrot, cut into matchsticks
1 tbsp of vegetarian oyster sauce
Pinch of sea salt
Pinch of ground white pepper
24 small spring roll wrappers (14.5cm/6in square)
1 tbsp of cornflour mixed with 1 tbsp of water
1. Heat a wok over a high heat until it starts to smoke and then add 1 tbsp of the groundnut oil. Add the ginger and stir-fry for a few seconds. Tip in the mushrooms and bamboo shoots and stir-fry for 1–2 minutes, then season with 1 tbsp of the soy sauce and the five-spice powder. Remove from the wok and set aside to cool for 10 minutes.
2. Put the bean sprouts, spring onions and carrot into a bowl, add the fried mushrooms and bamboo shoots and season with the oyster sauce, remaining soy sauce and the salt and pepper. Stir all the ingredients together to mix.
3. Take 2 spring roll wrappers and lay one on top of the other. (The extra layer will help prevent the skin from breaking.) Spoon 2 tbsps of filling into the centre of the top wrapper and brush each corner with the cornflour paste.
4. With the wrappers laid out in a diamond shape before you, bring the two side corners to meet in the middle, then bring the lower corner to the middle and roll the pastry with the filling towards the top corner. Tuck in the top edge and seal it with the cornflour paste. Continue in the same way until all the wrappers are filled.
5. Place a wok over a high heat and add the remaining groundnut oil. Heat the oil to 180°C (350°F) or until a cube of bread dropped in turns golden brown in 15 seconds and floats to the surface. Deep-fry the spring rolls for about 5 minutes or until golden brown, then remove with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper. Serve with a dipping sauce, such as sweet chilli sauce, if you like.
CHING’S TIP
For a healthier ‘baked’ option, substitute the spring roll wrappers with 12.5cm (5in) squares of filo pastry. Brush one sheet