Shanghai showcase

HIPPER than Hong Kong and more alluring than Beijing, Shanghai has always had a heady mystique. Situated on China’s east coast, surrounded by the fertile Yangtze River delta, the city was home to the best eating in the country long before its recent fast-forward leap to modernity and a generation of new-wave restaurants.

Here in the San Gabriel Valley, as the Chinese immigrant population has grown and become more diverse, chefs and restaurateurs from the Shanghai area have begun to showcase the food of their region. Today a Shanghainese expat can quash nostalgia by digging into a steamer full of juicy dumplings at Mei Long Village in San Gabriel or by gathering with family and friends around a hotpot of crab roe-stuffed meatball soup at Shanghai Bamboo House in Temple City.

We’ve got fancy Shanghai-style dining rooms ready to lay out a traditional banquet, modest family restaurants and lowbrow dives. True, the globally inspired creations now cropping up in the mother city’s contemporary and avant-garde restaurants are absent.

Classic comfort foods like red-cooked pork and drunken chicken rule in Southern California. But as Shanghai once again gains recognition as a food mecca, our local Shanghainese restaurants are growing in number and quality.

After several visits to any of these restaurants you begin to see the surprising breadth and variety of Shanghai’s cooking, how it differs from the more familiar Cantonese style and why, with its many outside influences, it is the most representative of China’s food as a whole.

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Refined ingredients

SHANGHAI’S cuisine is an inheritance, gathered over many centuries from the surrounding Yangtze cities that have been at various times seats of government, strongholds of commerce and havens for aristocrats from the north as well as a wealthy mercantile class. For centuries, these cities were centers of culinary innovation. Suzhou, for example, built a reputation for exquisitely made pastries that were the forerunners of modern Shanghai-style dim sum.

In Hangzhou, the elite members of society during the Southern Song dynasty (1127-1279) dined at restaurants whose menus offered hundreds of beautifully crafted, often intricate dishes that some speculate has led to Shanghai’s tradition of offering many appetizers.

As Shanghai grew from a small port into an international trade center, its cooks adopted and adapted elaborate ideas from the area’s wealthiest cities. Even today, Shanghai menus offer the famous spareribs of Wuxi, fish of Hangzhou and braised meat balls of Yangzhou, among other dishes named for their places of origin.

In historic times, Shanghai’s legions of gastronomes loved nothing better than to track down the most refined ingredients. Outings to small nearby towns that, like Tuscany or Burgundy, had developed reputations for local specialties, were a popular pastime. The famed Shaoxing wine, the nutty Zhenjiang (Chinkiang) black vinegar and the sweet-salty Jinhua ham are essential to Shanghainese cooking today.

So when most gourmands talk about Shanghai-style cuisine, it’s understood to mean food from the surrounding region, especially the provinces of Jiangsu to the north and Zhejiang to the south.

The style that seems to define Shanghai cooking for many is the iconic “red-cooking” of Jiangsu. Its sweet-salty braising liquid made of soy sauce, Chinese wine, a touch of rock sugar and often other seasonings, is spectacularly unique in the way its syrupy meatiness captivates the palate. Almost every Shanghai-style restaurant in the Los Angeles area serves several red-cooked specialties, including the moist, unctuous braised pork “rump” (frequently mistranslated as “pump”) and Wuxi pork ribs tinged with star anise and orange peel.

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On the lighter side

LOCALS will tell you, though, that they appreciate the light fresh tastes of Zhenjiang dishes that emphasize the flavors of a few ingredients. A Chinese adage exalts the cuisine of Zhenjiang, where “the sauce is white and the soup is so clear you can see the bottom of the bowl.”

The marvelous shrimp sauteed with tea leaves at Chang’s Garden, in Arcadia, with a faint bitterness of tea balancing the salty-sweetness of shrimp, is one such creation. At Jin Jian (also known as J&J;) in San Gabriel, gluten puffs afloat in a clear broth with wisps of julienne pork and clear noodles is another.

A few Sichuan or Hunan dishes also pop up on most Shanghainese restaurant menus. These are milder versions than the originals, not because they’ve been Americanized, but because they worked their way into Shanghai’s mainstream after immigrants from western China introduced chile-spiced foods.

With its complex network of waterways, Shanghai celebrates crabs, fish and seafood of all sorts at the table.

The Shanghainese are passionate lovers of eel, and it’s featured at Los Angeles restaurants in many guises, including eel stew with chestnuts at Green Village in San Gabriel, sauteed eel with caramelized whole garlic cloves at Wok and Noodle in Alhambra, and stunning pencil-thin crunchy fried eels with shrimp at Giang Nan in Monterey Park.

The last dish comes to the table looking like a plate of skinny French fries. A subtle sweetness in the coating is reminiscent of Thai mee krob noodles, but better.

Tofu is transformed into the wildest variety of tastes and textures imaginable -- as if it were the featured ingredient in an Iron Chef cook-off. Tofu skins, both fresh and dried, are used as wrappers, pastry fillings, as a stir-fried vegetable and to make multilayered mock duck. Soft or pressed tofu may be stuffed, put into soups, hot pots, stir fries or crumbled for fillings.

At Ho Ho Kitchen in Rosemead, firm pressed tofu cut into what looks like noodles is served in a light broth with julienne poached pork and flecks of the Shanghainese green chi tsai. San Gabriel’s Shanghai Kitchen wraps fragile sheets of fresh tofu spring-roll style around a filling of crumbled tofu, meat and minced greens, then poaches the rolls in a delicate vegetable broth. Wang Jia, in San Gabriel, serves several soups with bow knots made from tofu sheets.

A strong tradition of Buddhism has led to a complex and elegant vegetarian strain in Shanghainese cuisine. Even Chinese who aren’t strictly religious may practice “twice-a-month Buddhism,” eating vegetarian meals on the first and 15th day of the lunar month.

King’s Palace in Rowland Heights creates outrageous vegetarian “sparrow rolls” by wrapping braised tofu sheets around slivered dried bamboo shoots, black mushrooms and pressed tofu and serving them under a glaze of mellow brown sauce. Mandarin Chateau in Chinatown offers up kau-fu (also known as seitan) braised in a red-cooked style. The infusion of delicious broth gives each slice a meaty texture.

In the mid-19th century, when European nations imposed themselves on Shanghai in the name of free commerce, Western foods became abundant there, but there was rarely any resulting influence on the traditional Chinese cooking.

It’s not surprising. With a repertoire culled from hundreds of years of inventive cooking, an abundant supply of local ingredients and a tradition of superlative artisanal condiments, cooks had all they needed. Food is one of the pleasures that gave Shanghai the nickname “Heaven on Earth.”

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food@latimes.com

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The best of Shanghai around town

SOMETIMES you just want a comforting bowl of noodles; other times you’re up for discovering why yellowfish fried with river moss has such a devoted following. At these Shanghainese restaurants, the L.A. area’s best, you can satisfy both sorts of hunger as you explore the wide range of Shanghai’s culinary repertoire.

Chang’s Garden. At Juon Yuan, his first San Gabriel restaurant, chef Henry Chang’s pan-Chinese menu reflected his Taiwanese training and previous post at the landmark Grand Hotel in Taipei. Connoisseurs flocked to that tiny spot as they now do to the larger Chang’s Garden. Here Chang emphasizes his eastern repertoire. A fold-out Chinese-only portion of his menu lists regional dishes made famous at Louwailou, a renowned Hangzhou restaurant that dates back to the 1840s and is known for its exquisitely refined creations. Chang’s cooking represents both the ethereal and earthy sides of Shanghainese food. His shrimp sauteed with Dragon Well tea has the fresh tastes of spring, and his delicate Westlake soup of shredded yellowfish in a pale broth captures the essence of fresh fish. Opposite these in style and flavor are the savory caramel-sauced clay pot chicken smothered in roasted chestnuts and a dish called Famous Poet Su Tung Po’s Pork, a book-size rectangle of ultra-slow-red-cooked pork belly. Its clear, quivery top fat layer bathes the meat below to unctuous chopstick-yielding tenderness. Also wonderful is lotus-leaf-wrapped pork ribs whose butter-soft flesh comes enrobed in flavor-infused glutinous rice. 627 Duarte Road (at Baldwin Avenue), Arcadia; (626) 445-0707.

Giang Nan. China may have had its Cultural Revolution, but dignitaries always seemed to eat beautifully at the Jin Nan Guest House hotel in Shanghai, where, before the mid-’90s wave of high-end restaurants, Giang Nan’s chef Hongwei Kong worked the stoves. At this modest restaurant, nearly invisible at the back of a large mini-mall, most dishes are casually served, but the occasional stylish presentation hints at the chef’s past. The dome-shaped puree of fava beans comes topped with a precisely placed nugget of salted duck egg yolk that punches up the flavor of the vegetable; the fingers of yellowfish in their airy tempura-like coating seasoned with salty crumbled seaweed melt like cotton candy on the tongue. Skinny fried eel with shrimp are crunchy and addictive. Many think the braised pork knuckle is the best in town, and homesick Shanghainese flock to the restaurant for the marinated crab appetizer and the comforting soupy fish head casserole afloat with slippery, wide rice noodles. 306 N. Garfield Ave., No. A-12, Monterey Park; (626) 573-3421.

Green Village Shanghai Restaurant. In its several other incarnations, first on Las Tunas Drive in Temple City, then at Focus Plaza and last in Industry near Rowland Heights, Green Village has managed to attract wide notice. It surely expects crowds at its enormous new space, where eight or so private dining rooms and two large open dining areas await. The lightness of some of its dishes and its many fish offerings are what set the place apart, but sybarites will be happy to learn it serves what was once famously known as “Pork Pump,” the stewed-to-gelatinous red-cooked pork joint made popular at the now-declining Lake Spring Shanghai Restaurant in Monterey Park. Obscurely listed on the menu as braised pork knuckle in soy sauce, the name indicates little of its complexity and foie gras-like richness. Try traditional cold appetizers: Zhen Jiang jellied cured pork, with a dipping sauce of dark vinegar (the Chinese answer to head cheese or French jambon persille) or super-fragrant wine-marinated “special flavored” crab. If you’re after juicy silken-skinned dumplings, they’re listed under desserts. This kitchen demonstrates the underacknowledged virtues of eel with more than half a dozen preparations, including Wuxi crispy eels and eel-paste-flavored sauteed leeks. There are such rarities as hairy crab, and sea cucumber with shrimp eggs, alongside homey dishes such as vegetables and tofu hot pot and 10-ingredient pan-fried noodles. 250 W. Valley Blvd., No. M, San Gabriel; (626) 576-2228.

Ho Ho Kitchen. A charming hole-in-the-wall where you’re greeted with Styrofoam plates, big smiles and little English but wonderful home-style cooking. Xiao long bao, or soup dumplings, although not on the menu, are usually available for the asking; they come with slivers of ginger and black vinegar for dipping. Ho Ho is not a braised pork knuckle sort of place, but it’s great for tender “lion’s-head” pork meatballs with their shaggy manes of cabbage leaves, brown-sauce-infused smoked-fish appetizer and chewy noodle-like ovals of sauteed rice cake with greens and julienned pork under a sheer coat of light brown sauce. One piece de resistance for tofu lovers would be the fine-cut tofu “noodles” dotted with ham shreds and shrimp in a rich-tasting translucent sauce. 10053 Valley Blvd., El Monte; (626) 442-6689.

King’s Palace. Formerly located in San Gabriel in the space now occupied by Green Village, King’s Palace is better organized and prettier in its new suburban spot. Soft gray walls, lipstick-red lacquer accents and a mirrored bar provide a posh setting for impeccable cooking that features well-chosen ingredients. Shredded pork in brown sauce is more wonderfully chewy and caramelized than saucy. With the accompanying steamed buns, you make mini sandwiches stuffing them with the pork and scallion shred garnish. Vegetable deluxe, one of the proudest vegetarian dishes in the Shanghainese repertoire, is chunky rolls of bah yeh -- softened dried tofu sheets -- wrapped around meaty black mushrooms and slivered bamboo shoots, then lightly napped with vegetarian brown sauce. A “sandpot” of silken tofu strewn with bright orange crab roe sauce (termed “crab spawn,”) comes dotted with plump shrimp. It’s an exemplary nod to the lighter side of eastern Chinese cooking. 18900 E. Gale Ave. (99 Ranch Market plaza), Rowland Heights; (626) 854-6685.

Shanghai Bamboo House. This charmer may be off the beaten path, but families and friendly groups crowd the dining room (where the decor attempts a stab at modern Shanghainese-boite style with lamps draped in sheer red fabric, bamboo accents and several cozy booths along one wall). A bamboo and greenery-covered patio holds larger tables at which relaxing diners appear to be on a vacation. Whole fish beneath a veil of sweet-sour sauce showered with pine nuts contrasts beautifully with the delicacy of a dish like silken tofu and pork slivers in white broth or the crunchy oiliness of scallion pancakes. White ham, a whole lightly salted but otherwise unseasoned braised knuckle, has a funky sweetness. Crab-roe-filled meatballs the size of tennis balls and swimming in soup (menu name: “style meatball pot”) should not be missed. 5910 Temple City Blvd., (at Las Tunas Drive), Temple City; (626) 292-1478.

Shanghai Restaurant. In its coveted spot -- the second floor of the huge Chinese Focus Plaza -- Shanghai Restaurant caters to the shopping crowd. It could probably get by serving the usual cold wine chicken, spicy cold beef tendon, anise-perfumed smoked fish (the most familiar Shanghainese appetizers) along with a few pedestrian hot pots. Those are on its menu, but to the restaurant’s credit, the kitchen turns out more sophisticated fare such as poached dumpling-like rolled tofu sheets stuffed with meat and the Chinese green chi-tsai. The galantine-like salty yolk-and-sausage-stuffed chicken roll is sliced thinly into colorful ovals that look like canapes on an hors d’oeuvre tray. Tender savory custard with clams is another wonder. And those fond of assertive flavors might try a thin fish fillet coated in deep red wine lees (an inspiration from Fujian to the south). It’s covered in shaggy panko bread crumbs and deep fried (and mistranslated as rice wine sauce fish with pancakes). A few dishes haven’t fared so well. Avoid the braised pork knuckle with soy sauce, a sad mound of congealed fat. 140 W. Valley Blvd., No. 211, San Gabriel; (626) 288-0991.

Supreme Dragon. China’s Grand Canal, built to connect Beijing to the Jiangsu-Zhejiang area centuries ago, brought the dumplings of the north to Shanghai’s region, where they were often refined and embellished. At Supreme Dragon, the menu is an edible reminder of that fact. You are given a long sushi bar-style list of about 80 northern and Shanghai-style pastries and small eats. But unless you read Chinese, you’ll need to consult the translated pastry list on the English menu. Sample the bite-size crusty-bottomed pan-fried pork bao with their slightly fluffy coverings, the fresh scallion dumplings or the salted vegetables stir-fried with torn bean curd sheet. The restaurant’s attempts at elegance -- waterfall curtains, the golden and red placards in its two dining rooms -- are beside the point. There’s always a table of diners digging into a platter of sauteed loofa. The delicate bottle gourd squash makes an excellent balance for richer dishes such as braised duck with meaty black mushrooms and leeks, or pork belly chunks braised with lightly pickled vegetables whose tang plays against the richness of the meat. 18406 Colima Road, Nos. E and F, Rowland Heights; (626) 810-0396, (626) 810-0356.

Southern Mini Town. With small appetizer plates of Shaoxing wine-marinated blue crab, red-cooked Jia Xing duck and cool jade celery seasoned with sesame oil plus a few orders of Southern Mini Town’s satisfying pastries and dumplings (steamed or fried, with meat or with vegetable filling) you might be tempted to forgo entrees. Bring friends. Because the spot-on cooking at this supremely nondescript place is something no food lover will want to miss. The kitchen has honed the flavors of almost every dish: the supremely rich deep-fried and red-cooked spare ribs; the delicate gluten puffs in a soup lively with the contrasting textures of bow-tied fresh tofu sheet, glass noodles and torn nappa cabbage; even the simple al dente noodles dressed only with a modicum of scallion-infused oil. Eel dishes are beautifully handled, too. For eel noodle soup, the shoestring-size eel strips are not in soup but rather simmered in brown sauce with good thin egg noodles in a well-calibrated broth served alongside. 833 W. Las Tunas Drive, San Gabriel; (626) 289-6578.

Wang Gia. This spot’s spartan white room is as brightly lighted as any hospital operating room and can change its configuration at the drop of a noodle. The waiter rolls huge, round tabletops into the small boxy space or rolls them back out again as needed. It’s the varied crowds that give the room its color. Nevertheless, the restaurant turns out fine home-style cooking for a bargain tariff. Following Shanghai custom, meals begin with small eats: roasted peanuts flecked with herb-like dry seaweed, seasoned jelly fish strips with scallions or deeply flavored wine-marinated chicken. Inevitably, a huge clay hot pot graces almost every table. The ingredients in the herbal duck hot pot -- bits of Virginia ham, toothsome dry bamboo shoots and tofu knots -- have a delectable synergy. Wuxi spare ribs, meaty, decadent and rich, need the complement of a fresh-tasting dish such as the pencil-thin bamboo shoots scattered with deep green chopped chi-tsai. Sweets include the popular eastern-style dessert rice balls with wine sauce. These marble-size mochis filled with sweet, steely black sesame paste bob in a warm soup of rice wine lees. Bite down and a squirt of sesame paste fills your mouth with richness. 56 S. San Gabriel Blvd., San Gabriel; (626) 291-2233.

OLD FAVORITES. We can thank these pioneer restaurants that have been on the scene for at least a decade for introducing Angelenos to Shanghai’s cooking. We still drop by now and again for their specialties. J&J; Restaurant. Called Jin Jian on its takeout menu, the mini-mall storefront offers a selection of traditional eastern Chinese breakfast items on the weekends. 301 Valley Blvd., No.109, San Gabriel; (626) 308- 9238. Mandarin Chateau. When you’re in the mood for red-cooked pork ribs or lion’s head meatballs but don’t want to head out to the San Gabriel Valley, this venerable spot (formerly known as Mandarin Shanghai) is the ticket. 940 N. Broadway (Mandarin Plaza) No. 114, Chinatown; (213) 625-1195. Mei Long Village. Originally known as Dragon Villages, this was one of the first formal restaurants to introduce Shanghainese cooking to Los Angeles. The main draw for regulars these days is its beloved dumplings -- crab, pork and steamed vegetable -- and pot stickers. 301 W. Valley Blvd., No. 112, San Gabriel; (626) 284-4769. Wok and Noodle. This old-fashioned family-style place attracts extended families who gather around one of the inevitable hot pots (listed under “salted” dishes). 828 W. Valley Blvd., Alhambra; (626) 588-2284.

-- Linda Burum