Why the Chinese Don't Count Calories (10 page)

Learning to eat Chinese style

In my early days in China I used to watch Xiao Ding arrive every day with a steel container. These, I soon learned, are used all over China to keep food warm away from home. The smell of her meal would always make me realize how hungry I was, whether or not I had eaten my own lunch. I was desperate to exchange my sandwich and salad for a feast like hers, but a mixture of shyness and uneasiness in our relationship prevented me from enquiring about the contents of her lunch-box, which appeared to provide a meal that was so much more satisfying and filling than the food I was accustomed to.

One day I sat with my mouth watering as she devoured a pile of little dumplings, each one oozing fragrant juices, and decided that I had to pluck up the courage to ask her to teach me to make some. She was reluctant at first, telling me that because our two food cultures were so markedly different, I would never be able to enjoy Chinese food on a regular basis. But when she eventually relented we had a riot – and I found the first of many uses for the enormous Beijing cabbages that are piled up all over town throughout the winter.

Jiaozi
– boiled dumplings

Chinese families get together on the eve of Chinese New Year and make little dumplings called
jiaozi
. Both the act of making them and the shape and form of the dumplings symbolize unity, the new moon and the idea that everything goes full circle. Perhaps Xiao Ding thought about all this when we started our culinary journey together, or perhaps someone had told her that all foreigners like dumplings. For me, at least, it was a symbolic moment and
jiaozi
remain our favourite family dish.

Jiaozi
have an infinite variety of fillings, usually encompassing a small amount of meat but often vegetarian too, and like everything else in China they are consumed in massive bowlfuls. With the assurance that Chinese people have when explaining anything food-related, Xiao Ding told me that the average man would eat half a
jin
, about one pound, at a sitting, which is around twenty-five dumplings. It is usual, Xiao Ding told me confidently, for women to eat
san liang
or three-tenths of a
jin
, and, right on cue, I packed away fifteen before announcing that I had
chi bao le –
eaten ‘till I was full’.

Boiled dumplings

Jiaozi

Ingredients for about 30 jiaozi:

250 g/8 oz/2 cups plain flour
(high-gluten if possible – a mixture of half
wholemeal and half unbleached white works well)
150 ml/5 fl oz/¾ cup cold water
(a little more if you use wholemeal flour)
a pinch of salt

For the filling:

100g/3½ oz/1 cup vegetables such as Chinese cabbage,
dill, carrot, green beans or Chinese chives
150 g/5½ oz/¾ cup finely chopped pork
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp Chinese cooking wine
1 tsp soy sauce
salt to taste
1 tsp finely chopped ginger
1 tsp finely chopped spring onion

Gradually add the water to the flour, mixing into a stiff dough. Knead for a few minutes and roll into a ball. Cover with a damp tea-towel and leave to rest while you make the filling.

Chop the vegetables very finely. Note that some vegetables require pre-treatment as follows:

White cabbage: sprinkle with salt, wrap in a towel and squeeze out excess liquid.

Beans and carrots: blanch for three to five minutes (longer for beans), then squeeze out excess water.

Put the meat in the bowl, add the seasonings, finely chopped spring onion and ginger and, lastly, the finely chopped vegetables.

Flour a flat surface, then take half the lump of dough, roll it into a sausage about 2½ cm (1 in) in diameter. Break off a small ball, then, using a rolling-pin, roll it out into a circle with the edges thinner than the middle. Take the circle onto the palm of your hand, and place a small amount (about 1 tsp) of the filling in the centre. Fold into a little crescent-shaped purse, by first pulling two opposite sides together, then pinching and pleating each side. Arrange the dumplings on the tray, making sure that they do not touch each other.

When you are ready to cook the
jiaozi
, bring a large pan of water to the boil. Add the
jiaozi
, taking care not to break them up or to overfill the pan. Stir very gently to ensure they do not stick to the bottom and bring the water back to the boil: do not let it boil too vigorously.

There are several methods of cooking
jiaozi
. The best one for beginners is to add a small cup of cold water each time the water comes to the boil. When you have added three cups the
jiaozi
will be cooked, and because the water has not been allowed to boil rapidly the skins will not be broken. Cooked
jiaozi
float to the top and have wrinkly puckered skins. If in doubt, test one! Remove with a slotted spoon.

Tomato and egg filling

A simple vegetarian filling can be made from tomato and egg.
4 tomatoes
3 eggs
2 tsp oil
½ tsp finely chopped ginger
½ tsp finely chopped spring onion
½ tsp salt
2 tsp sesame oil

Blanch the tomatoes and remove the skins. Cut in half, take out the seeds and squeeze out the excess liquid, then chop roughly.

Beat the eggs. Heat the wok to a high heat, add oil and tip in the eggs. Allow them to fluff up, then stir so that they break into pieces. Turn off the heat then add the ginger and spring onion and season with a little salt and sesame oil.

Make
jiaozi
in exactly the same way as for the meat recipe; this filling is a little more difficult to handle so be careful it does not ‘leak’ into the edges of the dumplings, since this will cause them to break up during cooking.

Jiaozi
with this filling take very little time to cook. Add them to the boiling water as directed above, bring back to the boil and they should be ready. Test one!
Jiaozi
are served without a sauce, but with simple accompaniments such as rich black vinegar and chilli oil for dipping.

Xiao Ding and I shared many a lunch at the kitchen table. We ate a lot of noodles, in soup or with tasty sauces made from minced beef and green beans, aubergine and tomato or, on adventurous days, dried mushrooms with wood-ear fungus. Sometimes we would make dumplings, boiled or steamed, or
wontons
in soup, but we both loved rice-based meals the most. In a working day we ate a mound of one of the common favourites: spicy cabbage, potato slices with green chilli, shredded daikon radish and carrot with cumin, tender chunks of tofu with Sichuan peppercorns. Sometimes we would make a couple of side dishes: mashed cucumber with chilli and garlic, boiled quail’s eggs with five-spice, or a bowl of steaming soup. In the winter we often feasted on a lamb and radish or a chicken and vegetable stew. Whenever I cooked with Xiao Ding she appeared to know exactly what quantity to prepare so that we would clear the plates feeling distinctly satisfied yet not uncomfortable. To encourage the weighing and measuring of ingredients would not be in the spirit of the Chinese way. It took me a long time to acquire Xiao Ding’s innate ability to judge portion size. But, spurred on by her slim figure and clear complexion, I gradually began to increase my portions until I always finished my meal feeling that I had eaten just the right amount.

At this moment you may be thinking, ‘That’s all very well, but I don’t have time to make dumplings, I can’t afford quail’s eggs and there is no way I’m eating wood-ear fungus. ’ Or you may be wondering instead if it is acceptable to eat chips and cheeseburgers, chocolate cake or Häagen-Dazs until you are full.

It is common knowledge that eating more fast food or sugar-laden snacks is not the way forward on the path to a slim, fit and healthy body. This book is about introducing you to a lifestyle that will satisfy your body to an extent that daily battles with the fat and sugar-loaded ‘baddies’ of the Western diet will cease to become an issue.

I haven’t made dumplings for months and, now that I live in the UK, wood-ear fungus is just an occasional treat. I hope that you will try these delicacies at some time, but there are also ways of preparing satisfying meals without having to grapple with unfamiliar ingredients or follow complicated recipes. I will help you to do so as I unveil further secrets; but for now just think about adding more variety to your diet as you adopt a multi-dish way of eating and try to listen to your body’s response.

This approach can be daunting: just remember that the general Chinese rule is one dish per person, with rice, and that dishes can be as simple as a plate of sliced tomatoes with a sprinkling of minced spring onion, salt, sugar and sesame oil, or blanched green beans topped with minced ginger and soy sauce.

Here, for instance, is an example of a Chinese-influenced lunch that I recently prepared in the UK for a group of Tim’s Chinese business colleagues. All the foods were available from my local supermarket and the simple dishes featured just one or two main ingredients and took less than ten minutes each to prepare.

To start, I served cold mixed celery with boiled peanuts. This was followed by stir-fried courgettes with cumin and chilli, tomatoes with egg, spicy cabbage with tofu, broccoli with garlic, a beef and potato stew and a large steamed salmon topped with shredded ginger and spring onion. Everyone ate a large bowl of rice or two, and finally I served a soup. There were eight of us in total and we cleared the plates. As a token English gesture I had made an apple crumble to finish. A couple of guests opted to sample a small portion, but most declined, saying that they were full or that they didn’t particularly like sweet foods. I didn’t persevere, knowing that when Chinese people say they have ‘
chi bao le
’ they mean it, and it’s a compliment. I thought momentarily of my friend in the London restaurant, playing with her food to save her calories for the chocolate mousse and
petit fours
, and wondered if she ever felt truly satisfied after a meal.

Multi-dish eating

If you reach for a Chinese recipe book and try to make multi-dish meals from scratch you may well be overwhelmed. Better, perhaps, to start off with meals you are already familiar with.

For example, if you have a family of four and plan to eat chilli con carne with French bread and green salad, make a bowl of chilli, stir-fry some mushrooms (perhaps add some baby spinach leaves), slice some tomatoes and cucumber and chop and roast a butternut squash, topped with crushed garlic and herbs and drizzled with olive oil. Put all the dishes in the centre of the table, give everyone a bowl of rice and let them dig in.

Or, instead of grilled chicken breasts, try a chicken stir-fry accompanied with stewed red and yellow peppers and beansprouts; open a tin of kidney beans and stew them with tomatoes and spices, mash or slice an avocado or two, grate some cheese and serve with tortillas or pancakes.

Even a simple supper of baked potatoes can be made into a multi-course meal. Most of the dishes suggested above make good toppings; alternatively, try curried prawns, cauliflower with cheese, or a spiced vegetable mix with coconut.