Outlying tastes: a review of Beyond the Great Wall

Can a cookbook be more than just an instruction manual? What if it could also be a travel journal, photo essay, cultural study, political commentary and a love letter to a country and its cuisine, all in one?

Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid's latest book, Beyond the Great Wall: Recipes and Travels in the Other China presents the reader with all of that and more, wrapped up in a gorgeous (albeit heavy) package. For those familiar with these James Beard award-winning authors or any of their other five works, it is not surprising that this new title is a distinctive entry into the cookbook genre.

The third in what seems an unofficial series, Beyond the Great Wall is an exploration of the marginalized cuisine of China's non-Han people. It follows a similar template to their previous books that featured the foods of Southeast Asia and the Subcontinent; an encyclopaedic introduction sets out the historical, geographic and cultural foundations for the rest of the book, with meticulous attention to detail and helpful illustrations whenever appropriate.

From there the recipes (organized in sections such as condiments, rice and by various proteins) are interspersed with the authors' travel journal entries and evocative location photos. These essays and images, the former written over a span of 25 years and featured chronologically, continuously bring the reader back to the book’s anthropological leanings, as it follows Alford and Duguid’s personal experiences with a country, its cuisine and its people. Their reflections are poignant vignettes, capturing intimate moments frozen in the otherwise kaleidoscopic pace of change China has experienced since the mid 1980s.

While it could be considered their most political book to date, Beyond the Great Wall still manages to refrain from obvious agenda; the authors’ diary-style entries are offered as spontaneous impressions without context to specifically steer the reader’s opinion. Nonetheless, their inclusion does create a tension in the narrative as one cannot help but consider the juxtaposition of these traditional recipes and compelling images against Alford and Duguid's reflections on contemporary realities.

All of this aside, the heart of this book is the food. With its imposing stature (the book is a substantial 376 pages and a coffee-table worthy 11.4x9.6x1.5 inches) it would be all too easy to simply consider it an art object and never think to try a single dish. The food photography is simple, rustic and stunning, as captured by Richard Jung. My only wish would be that there were more of his images, as the dishes that are featured look nothing short of mouth-wateringly good.

That said, the recipes themselves are wholly accessible and too tempting to resist. Extensive headnotes provide additional inspiration, including detailed instruction, personal anecdotes on preparation, and ingredient sources and substitutions where necessary.

This is not the cuisine of central China; there is no mention of char siu or Beijing's famous roast duck. Many recipes require only a handful of ingredients and are well-suited to the kitchen of the home cook, with little required by way of speciality equipment.

Mongolian Lamb Patties (pictured, recipe below) are rich without being overly unctuous; the heaviness of the meat is undercut by fiery bits of ginger and garlic, along with a good handful of bright herbs. The grilled result offers a golden brown exterior with a satisfying bit of crunch and against a moist and flavourful centre. I served these alongside the Market Stall Fresh Tomato Salsa (from the Guizhou province), a surprising four-ingredient wonder that cleaned the palate beautifully.

I have to admit a deep and personal love of dumplings of all kinds; steamed, in soups or fried, I adore them all. You can imagine my excitement then as I poured over the dishes featured in the chapter on noodles and dumplings. Steamed Tibetan Momos, succulent parcels beef or lamb, could be dangerously addicting. The deep-fried version feature salty goat's milk cheese encased in a golden crust; perfect little bites to serve alongside the myriad of suggested condiments and a cold beer.

I had been wholly ignorant of the presence of tandoors and Indian-reminiscent nan in Xinjaing (home of the Uighur people) or another variation in the Pamir Mountains (home of the Tajik). The former version, stamped decoratively with a studded device, is baked at a high heat until golden and boasts a flat centre and a puffed rim. The latter is much more soft and pliant, due to a yoghurt-fortified dough and longer rising time.

There were other discoveries too; I would not have expected the absolutely straightforward Deep-Fried Whiting and Dai Grilled Chicken, or the simplicity of a Napa and Red Onion Salad from Inner Mongolia.

The list goes on. The recipes are thoughtfully-arranged for variety of textures and tastes; with each chapter the reader is inspired and intrigued again and again. As a fitting end, the book finishes with an afterword on travel with suggested itineraries, a comprehensive glossary and source guide.

Beyond the Great Wall is both absorbing and enlightening; the food makes you want to eat, the vistas make you want to travel, the stories make you want to explore and the faces make you want to understand. A wholly-satisfying journey is bound within its pages, and one feels benefited for having taken the trip.

Mongolian lamb patties
Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid

Available through the recipe section of Alford and Duguid’s official website labelled, as Savory Lamb Patties; scroll down for the details.



Note: Please consider making a donation to campaigns in aid of those effected by the recent devastating earthquake in China’s Sichuan province; the Canadian Red Cross is just one of many international organizations co-ordinating relief efforts.

Second verse, same as the first

I am, once again, letting the weather determine what I eat.

For regular readers, this will hardly seem like ground-breaking news but it cannot go without mention. I look outside to see green all around me, but as I make my way downstairs I notice that the house is still cool in the mornings. The hours progress and the winds pick up just a bit, rustling the newly-opened leaves on the trees and sending delicate blossoms flying in late-spring’s version of a blizzard. The last few days have held the threat of an imminent downpour; ubiquitous greyness encouraging one to curl up their shoulders and head back inside before the rain comes.

Therein lies my problem. I am surrounded by the lush promise of the season, but am wholly dampened by, well, the dampness. Back in February it was easy; snow and cold and ice meant braises and stews and full-on roasts with gravies and sauces and all manner of lovely starchy side-dishes. Comfort came by the ladleful as we hunkered down to watch the white wonderland of weather outside. Fast-forward to May when we are starting to spend our evenings outside again, and a piled-high plate of mashed potatoes and gravy (though delicious) seems just as inappropriate as a down-filled parka.

So what to do to when faced with these misty, blustery, but-still-very-springlike sort of days?

Our inclination has been to steal from the Asian pantry, snatching up inspiration here and there to come up with a combination of flavours that best suit our needs; a touch of chili heat to bolster the valiant efforts of the cloud-locked sun, some tender-crisp vegetables that seem fitting for the season and just a bit of slippery, slurpy noodles or sticky rice to sustain us in combat against the evening’s chill. Miles away from anything remotely authentic, to be sure, but the end by far justifies the improvisational means.

Sticky soy glazed salmon
The glaze is the particular draw of this dish; hot, sweet and salty, it hits every taste bud with full force. I frequently make extra to drizzle over whatever vegetables, noodles or rice I am serving alongside.

Ingredients
5 tablespoons soy sauce
2 garlic cloves, grated
1 teaspoon grated ginger
1 1/2 lbs. (650 g) wild salmon filet, skinned
1 tablespoon sweet Thai chili sauce
1 teaspoon oyster sauce
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoons water
Approximately 1 tablespoon canola or other neutral oil

In a shallow dish, combine 3 tablespoons of the soy sauce, the garlic and ginger. Set aside. Cut salmon into strips across the width of the filet, between 1 1/2"-2" wide. Place the salmon, face down, into the marinade and let stand for about 15 minutes, turning once.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the remaining soy sauce, sweet Thai chili sauce, oyster sauce, brown sugar and water. Stir well to dissolve the sugar. Set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. When thoroughly hot, add enough oil to barely slick the surface of the pan. Using a paper towel, blot the salmon dry of any marinade; you do not want the garlic and ginger to scorch in the pan. Place the salmon presentation side down into the hot oil, careful of any splatters. Cook for about 1-2 minutes per side (depending on the thickness of the fish) or until cooked to your liking. Remove the salmon from the pan and set aside, turning the heat down to medium low.

Once the pan has cooled a bit, deglaze with the soy mixture. Stir frequently, scraping up any bits of fish and pan juices that may stick to the bottom. Cook until reduced into a thick sauce, about the consistency of maple syrup (it will continue to thicken as it cools). Spoon or brush the glaze over the salmon and serve.

Serves 4.

Notes

• In the spirit of full disclosure, I had meant to include some of the glaze drizzled over the presentation. However, a certain little boy had his eye on this plateful of food and so I made him up a serving and the reserved glaze was gobbled up rather greedily. In fact, many of my shots have fidgety little digits making their way into the edge of frame.
• If your salmon filet is a centre cut, you may want to cut the strips thicker for easier handling.
• These greens make a wonderful accompaniment along with a spoonful of the aforementioned sticky rice.
• A note on fish and pregnancy, and general food safety for those with compromised immune systems. While salmon is an excellent source of protein and Omega-3 fatty acids beneficial to the healthy development of the brain, there is a bit of controversy concerning farm-raised salmon and levels of mercury ingested by pregnant women. As such, wild salmon purchased from a reputable fishmonger is by far preferred. While I do enjoy my salmon on the rarer side when I am not eating for two, anyone pregnant, nursing, elderly, very young or who has an otherwise-weakened immune system should always cook salmon (and all meats) to well-done.

Martha, Martha, Martha; an addendum

You know a new cookbook is a good one when you find the excuse to bake twice in one week, just so you can try another recipe.

(As labelled in the book) Milk Chocolate cookies from Martha Stewart's Cookies. Thin and crisp at the edges but still tender at the middle, these cookies have just enough deep chocolate flavour to feel a treat but not overly-indulgent; a dangerous trait, to be sure. In my opinion the cookies I took out after about 11-12 minutes, rather than the recipe's instructed 15, were the perfect balance of chewy and crunch - but this is a matter of personal taste.

To read a full review of Martha’s latest cookbook, please see my previous post.