With Modernization of China Comes Revival of Its Traditional Cooking : Revival: “Free markets,” private gardens and cookery schools replenish mainland restaurants once lacking in not only fruits and vegetables but chefs.

For the last few decades, if you wanted to find the best Chinese cuisine, mainland China was the last place for you to look. During many visits to Hong Kong, the culinary news from the mainland was invariably gloomy. The grand traditions of Chinese cookery were only preserved in Hong Kong and Taiwan and, to a lesser extent, in Chinese restaurants in London, New York and San Francisco.

Of course, that farmers in the People’s Republic were managing to provide food for a billion Chinese was remarkable enough--given China’s history of recurrent famines and the fact the population had almost doubled between 1950 and 1975.

But beyond that, the news was quite depressing. Tourists and visitors returning from mainland China unanimously reported that restaurants served wretched meals: badly cooked, sloppily served and made from poor ingredients. The venerable traditions of Chinese cookery were blighted, having been castigated as “bourgeois” and “imperialist” reflections of class domination and, thus, worthy of being eliminated by the Cultural Revolution during the late 1960s and 1970s. The grand regional cuisines were discouraged as well, part of a deliberate policy to nationalize the spirit of the people--to make uniform what had been different and separate.

Accelerating a process begun in the 1950s, the culinary institutes were abolished, cookery schools were closed down and master chefs fled or were forced into other, more politically appropriate professions. The infrastructure that supported the grand tradition was destroyed or fell into disuse. The specialized farms and gardens, the bakeries and kitchens, the innumerable private restaurants and food stalls--all were abolished or seriously damaged by the program of centralized planning in which the maintenance of a glorious cuisine played no part.

In the state-owned restaurants of that time, what might charitably be called “functional” food prevailed. The staff was considered the equivalent of factory workers. No grades of talent or expertise were recognized--a practice hardly conducive to the preparation of excellent cuisine. Moreover, the rule of the time was “early to bed, early to rise.” Restaurants, for the most part, closed at 7 p.m., consequently, no night life and, certainly, no fabulous banquets lasting to the wee hours.

Zhao Qi Ren, the principal of Shanghai’s leading cooking school, said that before 1949, good stocks, made from chicken and ham, were used. In the “difficult decades,” however, shortages of essential ingredients led to the use of substitutes. For example, MSG was not widely used in prewar China but with the decline in the quality and freshness of ingredients, it began to be added to everything. My constant refrain during my stay in China was, “No MSG, please.”

Ren mentioned one other factor that played a role in the decline of the mainland cuisine--the government’s need for hard currency, which it gained through the export of Chinese commodities. In the 1970s, traditional high quality Chinese foodstuffs quite unavailable on the mainland were plentiful in Hong Kong.

Because of this, I refrained from visiting the mainland for many years, although it was but a hop away from Hong Kong. It would have been too depressing. With the death of Mao, however, and the movement toward modernization that began at the end of the ‘70s, new attitudes toward many aspects of life (and especially toward economic matters) began to appear on the mainland. Included in these changes was a reconsideration of the virtues and commercial potential of traditional Chinese cuisine. By the early 1980s, it was clear that a major renaissance was under way. Gastronomy and even epicurism were no longer counter-revolutionary. The People’s Republic had initiated a planned, officially sanctioned resuscitation of the venerable Chinese culinary traditions and their infrastructures.

Thus it is that today specialty “free markets” have reappeared; private gardens are now supplying in abundance fruits and vegetables that for decades were rarities or even non-existent; private restaurants and food stalls are becoming commonplace once again, and culinary institutes and cookery schools are flourishing. There is a long pent-up demand for quality foods and ingredients that is slowly being met.

In the past two years, I have spent a total of 10 weeks in China, traveling thousands of miles tasting, exploring, observing, discussing and learning. I sampled dishes from practically every regional cuisine. I visited the coastal areas of Shanghai and Guangzhou (Canton), the interior Sichuan and Kunming (Yunnan) regions, and the capital, Beijing. I ate in private homes, state-owned restaurants, dining halls of collectives and communes, private restaurants, and street stalls.

The quality of the food ranged from outstanding--on a par with the best of Hong Kong--to the opposite extreme. But this represents so much improvement that it appears to me that mainland Chinese cookery has begun, in the nick of time, a dramatic comeback.

Through the help of friends, I was able to dine in many local restaurants, some of them superb, in all parts of China. In Chengdu, Sichuan, for example, I ate in a collectively owned restaurant that opened three years ago. The staff is committed to the revival of authentic regional Sichuan food and their efforts have succeeded marvelously.

In Guangzhou, I enjoyed an excellent meal at a dai pai dong , or street restaurant, to which local friends took me. The restaurant was festooned with cages containing various live wild animals--all ready for the pot. I rather timidly selected a pigeon, already prepared and drying, which shortly reappeared in roasted form, accompanied by fresh seasonal vegetables and a tasty bean curd dish with a delicious sauce. It was as good a simple meal as I have ever enjoyed in Hong Kong.

The next day I enjoyed a real tour de force, a meal two days in the making. It comprised 54 dishes--all made from one goat. There were 27 cold dishes, including some made from the entrails, eyeballs, tail, stomach, and a savory fried liver of the goat--tasty, a bit like crisps--and 27 hot dishes featuring braised and stir-fried parts of the goat. The next day, at a private restaurant, I sampled toasted goat cheese--mild goat cheese simply pan-fried in a wok, a dish of Muslim origin. By this time, I felt deprived when I discovered the restaurant was out of the regional speciality: fried grasshoppers.

I think that the best news concerning the revival of the great cuisine in China is that good and even superb food is being prepared by families in their own kitchens. In a private home in Beijing, for example, I had one of the best meals of my entire visit. It was a simple meal, but classically so and delicious. The meal featured jiaozi , meat-filled dumplings that were cooked in two styles--fried and boiled. It included minced pork stuffed between slices of eggplant, then dipped in batter and deep-fried; it was completed by simple fried spring rolls stuffed with cabbage. This was accompanied by cold cucumber salad and fresh tomato slices garnished with Thousand-Year Old Eggs.

And, in my ancestral home outside of Guangzhou, I enjoyed a meal that included freshly killed chicken together with roasted goose--a homey touch that warmed my stomach and heart.

Indeed, family-style cooking is now available in many cities in the so-called night markets. Enterprising entrepreneurs, armed with family recipes, cook up a storm right out in the streets, making hand-pulled noodles, dumplings in soup, fried pastries, spicy cold and hot noodles, braised eels with garlic or frogs--all at very reasonable prices and quite tasty. They have been one of the new success stories of contemporary China, tapping into popular tastes and needs.

Chinese cuisine--along with the other arts, the sciences, and culture in general--is slowly but demonstrably on the mend. I know this will continue, as it moves from strength to strength, after so many years in the desert of proletarian functionalism. That cuisine is, after all, one of the glories of Chinese civilization and an aspect of China’s contribution to the world’s culture.

LONG JING CHAO XIA (Shrimp in Dragon Well Tea)

1 pound medium raw shrimp

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon Long Jing (Dragon Well) Tea or any Chinese green tea

1 cup boiling water

1 1/2 tablespoons peanut oil

1 tablespoon rice wine or dry Sherry

If shrimp are unpeeled, peel by removing shell, legs and tail. Devein by making surface cut down back of shrimp and removing black, green or yellow matter. Rinse well under cold running water and pat thoroughly dry with paper towels. Rub shrimp evenly with salt and set aside.

Place tea leaves in heat-proof measuring cup and pour in boiling water. Let tea steep 15 minutes.

Heat wok or large saute pan until hot and add oil. Add shrimp and rice wine and stir-fry 30 seconds. Pour in tea and 1/2 leaves and cook another minute.

Remove shrimp with slotted spoon to serving platter and reduce any liquid in wok by half. Pour over shrimp. Makes 4 servings as part of Chinese meal or 2 as single dish.

HUANG GUA SHAO ROUPIAN (Cucumber Stir-Fried With Pork)

1/2 pound lean boneless pork chops

4 teaspoons light soy sauce

1 teaspoon dark soy sauce

3 teaspoons rice wine or dry Sherry

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1/2 teaspoon cornstarch

1 pound cucumbers

1 1/2 tablespoons peanut oil

1 tablespoon chili bean sauce

2 teaspoons finely chopped garlic

1 teaspoon roasted ground Sichuan peppercorns

1/2 teaspoon chile flakes or chili powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons white rice vinegar

1 teaspoon sugar

Cut pork into thin slices, about 1/8-inch thick and 3-inches long. Combine pork with 2 teaspoons light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, 1 teaspoon rice wine, sesame oil and cornstarch in medium bowl and set aside.

Peel cucumbers, split in halves and scoop out seeds with spoon. Finely slice cucumbers crosswise.

Heat wok or large saute pan until hot. Add oil, then chili bean sauce, garlic, Sichuan peppercorns, chile flakes and salt and stir-fry 20 seconds.

Add pork and continue to stir-fry 2 minutes. Add cucumbers and stir-fry 1 minute. Pour in remaining 2 teaspoons light soy sauce, remaining 2 teaspoons rice wine, vinegar and sugar. Continue to stir-fry 2 minutes or until all liquid has evaporated. Makes 4 servings as part of Chinese meal or 2 as single dish.

YUMI ZHOU (Rice Porridge With Corn)

6 cups water

2 teaspoons salt

3/4 cup short grain rice

2 cups fresh (about 2 ears) or frozen corn kernels

3 tablespoons finely chopped green onions

1 tablespoon chili bean sauce

2 teaspoons Sichuan peppercorns, roasted and crushed

Bring water to boil in large pot, add salt and then rice. Bring back to boil, stir several times, cover loosely and simmer rice 40 minutes at lowest possible heat.

Add corn and simmer 20 more minutes. Stir in green onions and chili bean sauce.

Just before serving, sprinkle with Sichuan peppercorns. Makes 4 servings as part of Chinese meal or 2 as single dish.

MATI JIDING (Spicy Chicken With Fresh Water Chestnuts)

1/2 pound boneless chicken breasts, skinned

1 egg white

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons cornstarch

1/2 pound water chestnuts, fresh or canned (drained weight)

1/2 cup peanut oil

1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic

2 teaspoons finely chopped ginger root

1 tablespoon chili bean sauce

2 tablespoons dark soy sauce

2 teaspoons rice wine or dry Sherry

2 teaspoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons sesame oil

Cut chicken into 1/2-inch cubes. Combine with egg white, salt and cornstarch in small bowl and place mixture in refrigerator about 20 minutes.

If using fresh water chestnuts, peel. If using canned water chestnuts, drain well and rinse in cold water. Coarsely chop water chestnuts.

Heat wok or large saute pan until hot and add oil. When moderately hot, add chicken cubes and stir to keep from sticking. When chicken pieces turn white, about 2 minutes, quickly drain chicken and all oil into stainless steel colander set in bowl.

Clean wok and reheat. Return 2 tablespoons oil to wok, add garlic and ginger and stir-fry 30 seconds. Add water chestnuts, chili bean sauce, soy sauce, rice wine, sugar and salt and continue to stir-fry 1 minute.

Return chicken to wok and continue to cook another 2 to 3 minutes. Add sesame oil, give mixture final stir and serve. Makes 4 servings as part of Chinese meal or 2 as single dish.

GUIZHOU LIANAI DOUFU (Guizhou-Style Bean Curd)

1 pound firm bean curd

Peanut oil

3 tablespoons finely chopped cilantro

2 tablespoons finely chopped garlic

2 tablespoons finely chopped green onions

1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped ginger root

2 teaspoons red chile flakes or chile powder

1 tablespoon dark soy sauce

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon sesame oil

Sauce

1 teaspoon cornstarch

1 teaspoon water

2 teaspoons sesame oil

Drain bean curd and cut into 2-inch squares. Place on paper towels to drain further.

Heat wok or large saute pan until hot. Add 2 tablespoons peanut oil, cilantro, garlic, green onions, ginger root, chile flakes, soy sauce, sugar, salt and sesame and stir-fry 2 minutes. Place cooked ingredients in bowl and allow to cool thoroughly.

Heat wok or large saute pan until hot. Add 2 cups peanut oil and when hot, deep-fry bean curd on both sides until golden brown. Remove bean curd squares from wok, drain well on paper towels and allow to cool thoroughly. Drain and discard oil.

Take each of bean curd squares and with knife, split slightly open on 1 side so pocket is formed. Place spoonful of cooked filling in each pocket. Continue to fill squares until all bean curd has been used.

Bring Sauce to boil. Add fried bean curd pieces and cook over medium heat 3 minutes. Combine cornstarch and water and add to wok, stirring gently to combine. Add sesame oil. Give mixture final turn and serve. Makes 4 servings as part of Chinese meal or 2 as single dish.

Sauce

1 tablespoon peanut oil

1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic

1 tablespoon finely chopped peeled ginger root

1 tablespoon dark soy sauce

1 tablespoon rice wine

2 teaspoons light soy sauce

1 teaspoon sugar

1 cup chicken stock

Heat wok or large saute pan and add peanut oil. Add garlic and ginger and stir-fry 30 seconds. Add dark soy sauce, rice wine, light soy sauce, sugar and stock.