Shang a light on me

For those wanting to take a wok on the wild side, Ajit Saldanha tells you how to make a few esoteric choices while sampling the Chinese fare

If I had a yuan for each time I have endured pretentious drivel on the subject of “authentic Chinese food”, I’d be in a position to rebuild the Great Wall of China. I could build it in Mexico, trumping two twits with one stone, to twist a cliché. Trying to slot the culinary magic of China into pre-determined categories is just silly; Sichuan is spicy, Shandong is salty and crispy while Cantonese is predominantly sweet and subtle…you see what I mean? Ultimately, one should be led by taste and flavour, not by bogus claims to authenticity. The late A A Gill, who was cynical on a variety of subjects but never on cooking once said, “To give someone a diamond is to own them, decorate them and make them richer. But a baked potato gives them another day of life.”

I recently dined at a great Chinese restaurant on Palace Road and I am happy to report that all is well with the kitchen, post lockdown. History buffs will know that this signature restaurant is inspired by the Shang dynasty, circa 1766-1122 BC, renowned for its complex social structure, development of a written language and the use of bronze. We started with shrimp and scallop dim sum; scallops, also known as the “candy of the sea”, have a delicate briny taste and these were elegantly paired with shrimp to create a flavour-packed mouthful. Then BBQ pork buns: fluffy exteriors with a rich filling of tender pork enlivened with five spice
and hoisin. For purely nostalgic reasons, I ordered the Chongqing Chilli Chicken: juicy morsels of chicken wok-tossed with Szechwan peppercorns; these have a numbing after-bite that can be mildly addictive. Next came the Crispy Pork Belly: intensely flavourful and, like revenge, served cold with two dipping sauces and a tiny sprinkling of castor sugar. Just for kicks, we tried the seabass dim sum, which was good without being memorable.

Then it was time for jasmine tea which serves as an excellent palate-cleanser between courses before we ate our veggies: asparagus and bok choy lightly tossed with garlic and rice wine. The dish is deceptively simple but very difficult to pull off at home as I can readily attest. The fundamental difference lies in style: the Chinese merely threaten veggies whereas we tend to boil them to death before smothering them in haldi, jeera and chilli. Then it was time for Black Pepper Tenderloin: succulent, lightly seasoned and very tasty and here’s a shout out to our former CM, Siddaramaiah, for his bold stand on this contentious subject. I also enjoy beef, sir.

There was a side dish of pickled radish which one of my dining companions spurned as a waste of calories but after one taste, he polished off the entire bowl with the zeal of the newly-converted. Our final dish was the Pickled Chilli with Prawns and while the crustaceans were faultlessly cooked, the sauce didn’t do much for them; they lacked that essential briny taste of fresh seafood. The Dan Dan noodles (mian), a Sichuan street food staple of freshly cooked thin rice noodles served in a savoury sauce with chilli oil and peanuts are an excellent choice here.

When an architect tells you that your kitchen is closer to your bedroom than any restaurant, he is not trying to be a comedian. The distinction between a cook and a chef is that a chef does it for cold cash while the cook does it for love. Planning a menu for a speciality Chinese restaurant in India is akin to tightrope walking and while Chef Xu Deqian who is originally from Guandong Province caters for those who are reluctant to stray from the well-trodden path, he has made the effort to slip in a few esoteric choices for those wanting to take a wok on the wild side. If you’re bored with the usual suspects, do ask the efficiently trained staff for help. Creative genius blushes unseen and wastes its sweetness on the desert air while evolved palates yearn for the taste they experienced at a humble eatery in Hangzhou during a short prison break from the package tour. Thanks to Deqian, the flavours are intense, the veggies perfectly crunchy and the sauces painstakingly created, not just slapped together with cornstarch and MSG, which is why this is the first Chinese restaurant in Paris to receive a Michelin star. All in all, the meal was most enjoyable and the cold towels and cups of jasmine tea between courses made for a decidedly sybaritic experience.

Finding a reasonably priced Chinese meal in Bengaluru is a huge challenge; many moons ago, Taipan, located at the intersection of Wood Street and Richmond Road, served delicious food.

Our standard order was Steamed Rice with crunchy veggies, Chinese fried chicken, Chilli pork and Steamed Fish Cantonese style. David Chang, the owner and Mike, the smiling manager, formed a great team and many an old Bengalurean would wistfully testify to the quality of their food.

On a recent trip to Ooty, I experienced a sense of déjà vu at Shinkows where Mr Powkes still dishes up a few old favourites like Garlic Pork Dry, Chinese chop suey and Sliced Beef with celery. At the risk of sounding whiny, I wish one of these start-ups would invent the time machine that could take me back to 1986 for some great Chinese food.

Elon, forget about Mars; instead take me back to Nanking, located in Mike Tam’s Hong Kong Hotel on Grant Road for some simple, Tangra-style Chinese.