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| Chinese Noodles: A Rhapsody |
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Whenever I mention that I write on the history of food, someone
is bound to ask "When was pasta invented?" For Europe,
that's a tricky question to answer. For China, though, we have a
pretty good idea: about 300 BC. We have it on the authority of Shu
Hsi, an official editor of ancient texts and one of the most learned
men of China. A pasta enthusiast, in about 300 AD he composed a
poem "A Rhapsody on Pasta." Although today we don't think
of poems as culinary reference works, they were back then. Shu Hsi's
rhapsody was effectively a pasta encyclopedia.
The Chinese cuisine of 300 BC was not one of rice and fish and
stir fries. That did not emerge until well over a millennium later.
Instead the Chinese dined on rich stews of meat and vegetables
accompanied by fluffy grains of millet that they had steamed over
the stew. They had little use for the foreign cereal, wheat, which
many centuries earlier had been brought to China by travelers
from the west. For them, it was food for the miserably poor or
as a last resort when stores were running low. For us, who relish
wheat bread and pasta, and relegate tiny, round millet seeds to
the birds, this seems strange. We have to remember, though, that
the Chinese steamed or boiled wheat berries just like they steamed
or boiled millet. Whereas this makes millet light and flavorful
(it was the forerunner of polenta in Italy, after all, and is
still worth trying), wheat berries stay chewy and slightly bitter.
What changed this was the grindstone. Around the 3rd century
BC, when the RomanEmpire began trading with the Chinese Han Empire
in China, merchants and nomads carried the grindstone from oasis
to oasis along the Silk Roads. For the first time, the Chinese
began grinding wheat into flour instead of cooking it whole. They
mixed the flour with water to make a dough. Instead of slapping
the dough on a hot surface or into a beehive oven to make flat
bread sand leavened breads, as had been done in the Middle East
and Mediterranean for millennia, they continued steaming and boiling.
They made noodles, dumplings, thin pancakes, stuffed buns, and
steamed breads, calling them all `ping.' Ping, of course, was
equivalent to our pasta, and it was as delicious as boiled wheat
had been dull. Wheat hop scotched over millet in the social scale
and became the grain of the Emperor and his court.
Their favorite all-purpose pasta was the stuffed dumpling. Judging
by Shu's rhapsody, they were very like those served today for
dim sum, or like Italian ravioli or tortellini. Shu describes
how the cooks sieved the flour twice, mixed it with water, and
then, dough sticking to the tips of their fingers, pressed it
out to make the thin wrappings. These they stuffed with finely
chopped pork and mutton, flavored with ginger, onions, cinnamon,
Szechwan pepper and black beans, before placing them in a steamer.
Well made, no filling burst out to stick to the steamer, no extra
flour was left to make a gluey deposit. Instead the filling swelled
to fill out the thin but strong wrapper.
For those of us, though, who want to get some taste of what these
early pastas were like, there are simpler alternatives. One is
a simple sauced noodle dish. Noodles, often served in broth, were
for the bitter cold months in northern China.
In dark winter's savage cold, At early morning gatherings Frost
forms around the mouth. For filling empty stomachs and relieving
chills, Boiled noodles are best.
Sometimes, though, noodles may have been served with this sauce
that, according to Bruce Costin his well-researched Ginger East
to West: A Cook'sTour (Berkeley: Aris, 1984), dates from about
100 AD. It is reliably good. Fresh Chinese noodles are best but
spaghetti will do if you live, as I do, hundreds of miles from
the nearest Chinatown. The sauce is saltier and oilier than is
currently fashionable but to my mind worth it for the romance
of eating such a venerable dish. In any case, a little goes a
long way and if you serve the sauce and pasta separately, everyone
can adjust the proportions to their own tastes.
1/4 cup of cooking oil 1 pound ground pork 1/4 cup finely chopped
fresh ginger root 6 tablespoons Chinese bean sauce 1 teaspoon
of ground Szechwan pepper 1-1/2 teaspoons of sugar 1 pound spaghetti
1 teaspoon sesame oil ? cup spring onions, sliced on the diagonal
into half inchlengths.
Put about four quarts of water to boil in a large pot. Heat the
oil in a wok or large skillet and add the pork. Cook until it
has turned color, mashing it to break up any lumps. Add the ginger
and stir for another minute. Add the bean sauce, Szechwan pepper
and sugar and adjust tastes, bearing in mind that there will be
lots of pasta in relation to the sauce.
Cook the spaghetti until al dente. Drain and toss in a serving
bowl with the sesame oil. Stir the scallions into the sauce and
serve in a separate bowl. Throwing authenticity to the winds in
favor of flavor and health, you can add a platter of finely cut
vegetable garnishes, such as red or green peppers, carrots, cucumbers,
celery, and bean sprouts. A little fresh coriander, for those
who like it, adds a nice contrast of color and flavor. Serves
6.
WHEN I was in school the average tiffin we carried to school
was paratha, puri or sandwiches or it used to be a variation of
the three and occasionally, it would be pakora. Then somewhere
between my school years and my son's school years came a jingle,
which said in just two minutes and the noodle fad was born. Today
I often see noodles in my son's tiffin. A healthy wholesome meal
to compete with the school canteen's soft drinks and burger which
hold so much sway over a school boy's mind. Coming back to the
topic of noodles, they have been around in China for a long, long
time. When Marco Polo visited that country in 1270 A.D. he recorded
their usage. Some people say that Marco Polo carried the concept
back and spaghetti was born, but many people dispute that theory
saying pasta was always there well before the noodle from China
was got by Marco Polo. Though what is not disputed is the fact
that the noodle got its name from the mid-European (Germany, Bavaria,
Austria) word for dumplings i.e., nudlen, knodl or knodel. The
original Chinese word for noodle is `mein' - hence, chow mein
. Original noodles were always made with egg and so you will see
egg noodles as a very common term used for it. If they are not
made with egg it is supposed to be mentioned on top of the packet
that they are plain noodles.
Noodles are a symbol of longevity in China and are often served
at birthday parties as a wish for long life. Though Maggi will
probably take the `chosen one' place in Indian markets, there
are many types of noodles. Apart from the Chinese egg noodles
are the noodles made from rice which are soaked in warm water
and not boiled. Then there are the transparent variety or glass
noodles or cellophane noodles made from moong bean starch paste.
Bijon noodles from South-East Asia is made from corn kernels.
From Japan came a number of different noodles one being shirataki
(white waterfall) made from the starch of a tuber which colloquially
is called the Devil's Tongue. There is of course the famous Soba
noodles made with golden buck wheat. Then there are noodles like
cellophane called Udan Sotanghan used in the fish soup like laksa.
Udon noodles are flat ribbon-like noodles served in hot dishes
with mixed meat or vegetables. There are many more like miki,
misua, somen and so on. India also produces noodles called seviyan
and of course, falooda. Most noodles are made into a stiff dough
and then they are passed through machines to cut them into long
strands. Then they are steamed partially dried, packeted and sold
in the market. Noodles are also very versatile. Try a noodle soup
with vegetables. Try tossed noodles with a little Indian gravy
like a Roganjosh. Crisp fry your boiled noodles by tossing in
a little cornflour and then fry it. Top crunchy noodles with any
spicy, thick gravy for an innovative meal.
So needle a noodle and come up with some creative meals. |
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