Cantonese Clay Pot Rice With Velveted Chicken and Mushrooms (北菇滑雞煲仔飯)

When done properly, velveting can render a relatively lean cut of meat moist and tender—even after extended steaming.

Velveted chicken with mushrooms on top of Cantonese clay pot rice.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

There are a few things to consider when deciding what to cook on top of Cantonese clay pot rice, a popular dish of rice that’s steamed then crisped in a clay pot. Because the toppings cook directly on top of the rice, the ideal dishes are ones that are able to retain their moisture even after 20 minutes of steaming—the time it usually takes clay pot rice to cook. (Even at a gentle heat, this is significantly longer than the cooking time required for most steamed Cantonese dishes.) When properly prepared, the toppings should release their juices onto the rice, permeating the grains with fat and flavor. This, however, means that proteins have to be sufficiently protected from drying out—something this classic recipe for clay pot rice topped with tender and juicy velveted chicken demonstrates well. 

One of the brilliant ways to keep meat moist is a method of marinating called velveting. Most commonly, this technique is used to make velveted chicken with shiitake mushrooms (冬菇滑雞), a popular dish for accompanying rice at both dim sum and clay pot rice restaurants. The direct translation of the dish, in fact, is “slippery chicken.” When done properly, velveting can render a relatively lean cut of meat like chicken breast moist and tender—even after extended steaming.

Velveted chicken and mushrooms on top of Cantonese clay pot rice.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

What Is Velveting?

Velveting is a Chinese cooking technique that helps meat develop a silky smooth texture by protecting it in a layer of starch. Typically, proteins are marinated in egg whites and cornstarch, then blanched in hot water or oil to set the protective coating, resulting in incredibly tender meat. Though velveting has been written about extensively in English since it was introduced by Irene Kuo in her 1977 book The Key to Chinese Cooking, most Chinese chefs don’t use the same terminology to describe the technique. Rather than refer to the method as “velveting,” they simply say they are marinating meat in starch.

So in the same vein, there is some leeway to velveting; there are no hard and fast rules about what constitutes water velveting. As long as meat is coated in some form of starch and liquid and the meat is then exposed to heat, there are no other major restrictions to the ingredients or the cooking technique. Different chefs from different regions will have their own approaches to the technique. 

In this recipe, the velveting agent is simply cornstarch or potato starch added to a marinade of Shaoxing wine, light soy sauce, and oyster sauce. Oil is added as well, which is emulsified into the marinade with the starch, making the chicken more “slippery.” A quick wash of salt and baking soda forms a quick wet brine, helping the chicken retain its moisture. 

Blanching the chicken before steaming it over rice would be excessive, as the meat does not need to be protected in the same way as it would be for a stir-fry. Because the toppings for clay pot rice are steamed directly on top of the rice, they’re cooked more gently than in a stir-fry, which means they don’t need to be blanched separately in water or oil.

Cornstarch being added to raw chicken.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Variations on the Classic

As noted above, the chicken topping on this clay pot rice recipe is often served in other ways. Some families will make velveted chicken with shiitake mushrooms directly on top of their rice in a rice cooker to achieve a similar one-pot meal. For most Chinese households, this dish will stand alone without being steamed over rice, presented with an array of family style braises and stir-fries. A similar technique can be applied to boneless slices of chicken, pork, or beef as well. 

But of all the variations, there's no arguing the dish works particularly well on clay pot rice. The chicken truly makes the rice shine, with its tender texture in contrast with the crispy bottom and its delicate seasoning in concert with a robust seasoned soy sauce.

Shiitake mushrooms being sliced.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

For the Seasoned Soy Sauce: In a small saucepan, melt lard over medium heat until shimmering, about 1 minute. Reduce heat to medium-low and add scallions, shallot, cilantro, garlic, and ginger, and cook, swirling the pan occasionally, until the aromatics are fragrant and begin to turn golden, about 2 minutes. Add Shaoxing wine, water, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, and sugar. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat and simmer for 7 minutes, until thickened. The sauce should be dark, smooth, and slightly thicker than bottled light soy sauce. Pour seasoned soy sauce through a fine-mesh strainer set over a medium heatproof bowl. Refrigerate until chilled.

Seasoned soy sauce being made in a saucepan.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Meanwhile, Wash the Chicken: In a medium-sized bowl, cover the chicken with water and rinse off as much blood as possible. Add 1 cup water, along with salt and baking soda, and massage the chicken, tenderizing it and removing as much residual blood as possible. Drain well, squeeze gently to remove as much moisture as possible, and set aside.

Chicken sitting in water in a stainless steel bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

For the Rice: In a large bowl, combine short-grain and jasmine rice and cover by 2 inches with cool water. Using your hands, vigorously swish rice until water turns cloudy, about 30 seconds. Using a fine-mesh strainer, drain the rice, discarding the cloudy soaking water. (Rinsing the grains just once retains more of the starch and flavors of the rice.) Cover rice with at least double the amount of water and soak for at least 1 hour and up to 3 hours. When the rice has finished soaking, drain it well through a fine-mesh sieve. (To check if the rice has thoroughly soaked, break a grain in half. There shouldn’t be a visible hard, white center.)

Rice being rinsed in a bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Make the Marinade: In a medium bowl, whisk together Shaoxing wine, salt, oil, light soy sauce, oyster sauce, white pepper, and potato starch. Add the chicken, gently squeezing it to work the marinade into the meat.

Pouring marinade onto chicken.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Add the ginger and shiitake mushrooms, tossing to coat, then transfer to refrigerator and let marinate for at least 30 minutes and up to 2 days.

Shiitake mushrooms and ginger on top of raw chicken in a stainless steel bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Cook the Rice: Set the clay pot over medium-high heat until hot to the touch, about 2 minutes. Add the rice to the pot and top with just enough water to barely cover. Bring the rice and water to a boil, stirring occasionally. When the rice and water begin to bubble, give the rice a final stir to get rid of any clumps, and allow the rice to cook until water is no longer visible above the rice, about 2 minutes.

Four different stages of rice being cooked in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Reduce heat to low. Using a pair of chopsticks, ventilate the rice by poking a few shallow holes on the surface of the rice. Slide the marinated chicken, ginger, and shiitake mushrooms onto the rice in an even layer.

Poking holes in rice that's being cooked in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Cover clay pot with lid and allow rice and chicken to cook on low heat until the rice begins to crackle, about 10 minutes. (Do not open the lid. Listening carefully, you should hear a consistent sizzling crackle; loud, inconsistent pops mean that the heat is too high.)

A Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Drizzle lard, schmaltz, or oil on the rim of the lid and allow it to trickle down into the rice. With the lid still on, angle the clay pot so that a quarter of the bottom of the pot is toasting directly over the flame. Rotate the clay pot every minute, so that another quarter of the pot is being toasted. Repeat this process for another 13 minutes. Be careful not to burn the rice; if the vapor escaping the pot becomes a single, slow wisp or you begin to smell smoke, reduce heat to low. The rice is done when it stops sizzling and the steam slows. Remove clay pot from heat and rest for 2 minutes.

Cantonese clay pot rice being tilted over a gas stove.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

To Serve: Remove the lid and drizzle with the desired amount of seasoned soy sauce, stirring to mix well. Serve in the clay pot itself, dividing portions up into smaller individual bowls. Once most of the rice has been served, use a metal spoon to scrape up the crispy rice on the bottom, optionally crumbling it into the fluffier rice mixture.

Velveted chicken and mushrooms on top of Cantonese clay pot rice.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Special Equipment

Cantonese clay pot (about 1 quart in capacity and 18cm in diameter), gas stove

Notes

Using both jasmine and a short- or medium-grain variety produces rice that’s both fluffy and chewy, a texture I particularly enjoy. However, you’re more than welcome to use just one kind of rice instead of a blend.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The seasoned soy sauce can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Cantonese Clay Pot Rice With Chinese Meatloaf (肉餅煲仔飯)

Pleasantly springy and fragrant with soy sauce, oyster sauce, and Shaoxing wine, Chinese meatloaf is delicious served on its own or atop Cantonese claypot rice.

Chinese meatloaf on top of Cantonese clay pot rice.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Cantonese clay pot rice is one of the most iconic examples of Chinese rice cookery. Prepared slowly and gently in a porous, semi-glazed clay pot, the grains are fluffy and aromatic, with a satisfyingly crisp bottom for textural contrast. The dish is designed to be all about the rice—which isn’t to say that the topping isn't important, only that it's there to uplift the grain itself.

There are numerous toppings you could serve with clay pot rice: velveted chicken with shiitake mushrooms; dried Chinese sausage; freshwater eel in black bean sauce; and cured duck legs are just a few possibilities. The toppings are usually made with moist cuts of meat or seafood that have been treated in some way (like velveting) so they stay tender during the cooking process, and are all steamed directly on top of the rice, which allows the rendered fat and juices to drip down into the rice as the it cooks.  

One of the most popular toppings in Hong Kong is Chinese meatloaf. Like American meatloaf, this is a dish of ground meat mixed with other ingredients to form a delicate cake that retains its moisture as much as possible while it cooks. But while American meatloaf is typically baked and slightly crumbly, Chinese meatloaf is generally steamed and pleasantly springy. For those familiar with the "Q" texture of tapioca pearls or Chinese fish balls, which are often advertised as bouncy enough to play ping pong with,  Chinese meatloaf is not quite that elastic, and should still fall apart when pried open with chopsticks.

Two pots of Cantonese clay pot rice: one with Chinese meatloaf and another with velveted chicken.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Myosin: The Key to Tender Meatloaf

Unlike a hamburger, where the ideal loose and crumbly texture of the patty is achieved with minimal handling of the meat and only salting the exterior of the patty, in a meatloaf we want the opposite—a more cohesive texture that is tender but springy, well seasoned throughout, and very juicy. This is accomplished by seasoning the chopped pork and then mixing it very thoroughly. The salt works to draw out myosin, a muscle protein in the pork, dissolving it into the water content of the mixture. With very aggressive mixing, the myosin binds with both the fat and the protein in the meatloaf, locking them together in a sticky emulsion that, when cooked, produces perfectly bouncy and juicy results.

How do we do such aggressive mixing? That's the fun part. The technique called for here involves a forceful technique of lifting and slapping the meat back down upon itself over and over again until the mixture is blended and sticky and all your pent up anxiety and rage has been vented into the food. Some might claim it's as good as therapy.

Hand-Chopping the Meat vs. Using Pre-Ground Pork

The key to the texture of this meatloaf is to create a duality of textures, which is best achieved by hand-chopping pork shoulder instead of purchasing ground pork. This may feel unnecessarily fussy and labor-intensive, but preparing it this way yields perfectly inconsistent pieces that provide chew and textural contrast. Though you can use pre-ground pork—which is much more convenient—I recommend taking the time to hand-chop the meat, which will allow you to have greater control over the size and consistency of the pork for a more pleasing bite. A food processor is another possible shortcut, but can result in a mince that is a little too stringy, and yield a denser meatloaf. 

To make this process as easy as possible, I recommend chilling the pork shoulder in the freezer for about 15 minutes, as the meat is easier to cut when cold and firm. Then roughly dice the pork into 1/4-inch pieces, lay it all out in a single layer on the cutting board and start mincing with a heavy knife, preferably a cleaver. At this point, you can speed it up by wielding not one but two knives, rapidly alternating the chopping motion to cover a larger surface area at once. (Fun fact: Chinese culinary students are taught a mincing technique called the “gallop chop” that mimics the sound of a horse’s gallop with the two cleavers.) The whole process should take about five minutes, and the mince is done when the pieces are just a hair larger than the size of ground meat you’d find in the store.

The Aromatics

At its most basic, Chinese meatloaf is seasoned with the usual suspects: soy sauce, oyster sauce, Shaoxing wine, and sesame oil. But it’s often also cooked with more assertive flavorings such as salted yolks, dried squid, dried orange peel, preserved meats, and salted fish. Because the pork itself is so mild, these ingredients help elevate the meatloaf and add a deep savoriness.

Here, I suggest using a salted duck egg, which is one of the more approachable ingredients for those unfamiliar with other ingredients that may traditionally be used in meatloaf. The yolk of the salted duck egg, in particular, is creamy, unctuous, and intensely savory—there’s not much like it.

Bouncy and delicately textured, Chinese meatloaf is an excellent accompaniment to clay pot rice, and it’s not hard to see why it’s a favorite among many Hong Kongers. Served with a salted duck egg and seasoned soy sauce, it’s a deeply savory dish that many find themselves returning to over and over again.

For the Seasoned Soy Sauce: In a small saucepan set over medium heat, melt the lard until liquid, about 1 minute. Reduce heat to medium-low and add scallions, shallots, cilantro, garlic, and ginger. Gently sauté, swirling the pan occasionally, until the aromatics are fragrant and begin to turn golden brown. Deglaze the pan with the Shaoxing wine, then add water, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, and sugar. Bring the mixture to a boil over high heat and allow to bubble for 2 minutes. Strain, chill, and set aside; the sauce should be dark, smooth, and slightly thicker than bottled soy sauce.

Seasoned soy sauce being made in a saucepan.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a large bowl, combine short-grain and jasmine rice and cover by 2 inches with cool water. Using your hands, vigorously swish rice until water turns cloudy, about 30 seconds. Using a fine-mesh strainer, drain the rice, discarding the cloudy soaking water. (Rinsing the grains just once retains more of the starch and flavors of the rice.) Cover rice with at least double the amount of water and soak for at least 1 hour and up to 3 hours. When the rice has finished soaking, drain it well through a fine-mesh sieve. (To check if the rice has thoroughly soaked, break a grain in half. There shouldn’t be a visible hard, white center.)

Rice being rinsed in a bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Meanwhile, for the Meatloaf: Dice the pork shoulder into 1/4-inch pieces. Set aside a third of the diced pork. Chop the pork, pushing the mixture around until the pork is as fine as conventionally ground pork. Transfer to a medium bowl and set aside.

Pork being diced on a cutting board and pork in a stainless steel bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a small bowl, mix together ginger, light soy sauce, oyster sauce, Shaoxing wine, sesame oil, starch, egg white, salt, and sugar, stirring well with a silicone spatula until well-combined.

Ground pork with ginger, cornstarch, and other aromatics in a stainless steel bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Gradually pour the seasoning liquid into the meat mixture. Vigorously stir the meat in one direction to incorporate the liquid. As the meat is being mixed, you will notice that white strands of protein that looks like fine tendons will get longer and longer. Once these strands reach 2 inches in length, begin slapping the meat loaf. Using clean hands, ball up the mixture into one mass and then slap it back into the bowl. Continue to slap the meat until the final mixture holds together and begins to feel bouncy, about 2 minutes.

Close up of pork for Chinese meatloaf.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

To Cook the Clay Pot Rice: set the clay pot over medium-high heat for 2 minutes. Add the rice to the pot and top with just enough water to barely cover. Bring the rice and water to a boil, with the lid off, stirring occasionally. When the rice and water begin to bubble, give the rice a final stir to get rid of any clumps, and allow the rice to cook until water is no longer visible above the rice, about 2 minutes.

Four different stages of rice being cooked in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Reduce heat to low. Using a pair of chopsticks, ventilate the rice by poking a few shallow holes on the surface of the rice. Shape the meat loaf into a 5-inch wide disc and lay it on top of the rice, and using a spoon, make a small indent in the center of the meatloaf and crack in the salted duck egg, if using.

Raw Chinese meatloaf on top of rice in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Cover clay pot with lid and allow rice and meatloaf to cook on low heat until the rice begins to crackle, about 10 minutes. (Do not open the lid. Listening carefully, you should hear a consistent sizzling crackle; loud, inconsistent pops mean that the heat is too high.)

A Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Drizzle lard, schmaltz, or oil on the rim of the lid and allow it to trickle down into the rice. With the lid still on, angle the clay pot so that a quarter of the bottom of the pot is toasting directly over the flame. Rotate the clay pot every minute, so that another quarter of the pot is being toasted. Repeat this process for another 13 minutes. Be careful not to burn the rice; if the vapor escaping the pot becomes a single, slow wisp or you begin to smell smoke, reduce heat to low. The rice is done when it stops sizzling and the steam slows. Remove clay pot from heat and rest for 2 minutes. Check that the meatloaf is fully cooked by poking a chopstick in the center of the meatloaf. The juices that run out should be clear and not pink.

Cantonese clay pot tilted over the flame of a gas stove.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

To Serve: Remove the lid and drizzle with the desired amount of seasoned soy sauce, stirring to mix well. Serve in the clay pot itself, dividing portions up into smaller individual bowls. Once most of the rice has been served, use a metal spoon to scrape up the crispy rice on the bottom, optionally crumbling it into the fluffier rice mixture.

Chinese meatloaf on top of Cantonese clay pot rice.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Special Equipment

Cantonese clay pot (about 1 quart in capacity and 18cm in diameter), gas stove

Notes

Using both jasmine and a short- or medium-grain variety produces rice that’s both fluffy and chewy, a texture I particularly enjoy. However, you’re more than welcome to use just one kind of rice instead of a blend.

The salted duck egg used here should be raw. Salted duck eggs are available to purchase in most Asian grocery stores, but if you can only find cooked duck eggs, I suggest crumbling it into the meatloaf instead of placing it on top, as this will flavor the meatloaf throughout.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The seasoned soy sauce can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

How to Make Cantonese Clay Pot Rice (煲仔飯)

This comforting meal of rice steamed and crisped within a Cantonese clay pot is a favorite in Hong Kong, where it’s served with an assortment of savory toppings and a seasoned soy sauce.

Cantonese clay pot rice with Chinese sausage and greens.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

When the first hint of a winter breeze rolls into Hong Kong, everyone’s mind—and appetite—immediately turns to clay pot rice, a comforting meal of rice steamed and crisped within a Cantonese clay pot with an assortment of toppings. Across the city, you’ll find restaurants serving clay pot rice with the usual suspects: spare ribs steamed with fermented black beans, minced beef and a runny egg, Chinese preserved sausages and greens, meatloaf, and slippery chicken, among many more. 

Though the toppings are important, many of the most popular clay pot rice proprietors in Hong Kong will point to the dark, seasoned soy sauce as the “soul” of the dish, though no two proprietors are likely to agree on what the ideal flavor profile of the finishing sauce should be. Some prefer a more savory sauce, others a little sweeter; some prefer a predominant soy flavor, others rice wine; some swear by a trinity of ginger, garlic, and scallions, while others will insist on adding dried scallops, shrimp, and ham. Over the course of my life, I’ve come to accept that there are just some things chefs will claim as absolute when in all honesty it just comes down to regional and personal preferences.

Close-up shot of seasoned soy sauce in a saucepan.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

The Importance of the Toppings and Clay Pot

Despite clay pot rice’s popularity, few know the techniques required to nail this simple-seeming dish. The toppings, which cook at the same time as the rice, need to be seasoned and marinated sufficiently, with adequate fat to season the rice below as it renders.

As for the rice itself, the ideal clay pot rice should celebrate a duality of textures: soft, pillowy grains on the top, with an irresistibly crispy layer below. That toasty, golden brown rice at the bottom of the pot is a hallmark of many rice dishes from around the world, and is known by many names: la pega in Colombia, concon in the Dominican Republic, intip nasi in Indonesia, tahdig in Iran, okoge in Japan, nurungji in Korea, and socarrat in Spain. In Hong Kong, we call it faan ziu, or "scorched rice." 

That texture is the result of careful cooking using a clay pot. Compared to cookware made of metal, ceramic, or glass, clay pots heat up both slowly and evenly, and are able to retain and distribute that heat more steadily, resulting in more consistently cooked rice. Cooking rice in traditional clay pots also perfumes the grains with earthy notes from the pot itself, as hot air is pushed into the center of the pot through the porous clay.

Crispy rice made in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Choosing a Clay Pot

Traditional Cantonese clay pots are tan and glazed dark brown within. Smaller pots fit for serving one to two people are about seven inches in diameter and have a single long handle and slightly curved bottom, while larger pots are usually double-handled and feature a slightly flatter bottom. I prefer using the smaller pots for making clay pot rice, as they’re easier to maneuver and have a higher surface area to volume ratio, allowing for more crispy rice per serving.

Still, there are reasons for using other types of clay pots. Glazed clay pots like Japanese donabe or Korean ttukbaegi, for example, are more beginner-friendly. Their smooth surfaces are less prone to cracking, they often feature a thicker bottom that reduces the risk of burning, and their larger sizes are more versatile for soups and stews. The trade off, however, is the earthy perfume you’d otherwise get from cooking with unglazed or partially glazed pots—such as the Cantonese clay pots—which allow for hot air to push through the porous clay and scent the rice with its distinct aroma. In addition, Cantonese clay pots are very inexpensive, which is to say that while they may be trickier to learn how to use, they’re affordable enough to accept occasional breakage as the cost of doing business.

A Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Where to Buy a Cantonese Clay Pot

The best place to buy a Cantonese clay pot is a Chinese kitchen equipment store or an Asian supermarket. Because these pots are mass-produced, each will have its own defects, like scratches, cracks, and ill-fitting lids. For that reason, it’s best to purchase the pot in person so you can pick the best of the bunch. On a recent visit to a Chinese kitchen equipment store in Manhattan, the owners even let me test out the water retention capabilities of the clay pots by asking me to float them in a bucket of water to ensure that they were uncracked and ready for use.

Seasoning a New Clay Pot

New clay pots are prone to cracking if they’re dried out and exposed to sudden temperature changes. Seasoning a clay pot improves its durability by saturating the pot with water, then oil, and finally, starch. Upon purchasing a clay pot, I recommend washing it well with soap, then submerging it in room-temperature water overnight. The next morning, allow the pot to dry fully on a rack, then rub a thin layer of neutral oil over the bottom exterior and let it soak in completely. Finally, as per Chinese cultural wisdom, cook a pot of congee in the clay pot so the starches released from the rice can line the inside of your clay pot. This process only needs to be done once for new pots.

Washing a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez
Seasoning a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Choosing the Rice

It’s most traditional to use jasmine rice to make Cantonese clay pot rice. Texturally, jasmine rice is the easiest to cook in clay pots, as it provides a wider margin of error: its amylose-heavy composition means that it cooks up into naturally distinct grains, reducing the likelihood of gummy rice. 

Jasmine rice is also loved for its subtle floral aroma, which is most obvious in freshly harvested rice and pairs exceptionally well with the clay pot’s earthiness. Though older, aged rice has a less potent aroma, many clay pot rice masters will tell you that it produces fluffier, more distinct grains that are ideal for building that bottom crust. It's not uncommon for these cooks to use a blend of newer and older jasmine rice to get the best qualities of both in the pot.

Beyond jasmine rice, Japonica varieties like koshihikari or short-grain Northeastern Chinese rice also cook well in clay pots. These varieties, usually short- to medium-grain ones higher in amylopectin, are often sweeter and provide a more satisfying chew than jasmine rice.

My practice has been to combine both jasmine and short- or medium-grain varieties when making clay pot rice, which yields rice that’s fragrant and both fluffy and slightly chewy. From my experience, combining two types of rice does not significantly affect the prep or cooking time, so the recipe works the same even when two types of rice are in the pot. That said, you do not have to use a blend of rice varieties. Unless you’re just as picky as I am about my rice, you'll be happy with just one (though there's no harm in trying two if you want to see why I like it like that).

Two bowls of rice.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Preparing the Rice

The ideal texture of clay pot rice is slightly sticky but not mushy, with fluffy, distinct grains that can easily be tossed with the sauce and toppings. Each morsel should be fully cooked, with a soft bite in the center. In order to achieve this, it’s essential to prepare the rice properly: first by washing the grains, which removes some of the surface starch and prevents the grains from becoming gluey; then soaking the rice for at least an hour.

Why soak?  Hydrated grains cook faster and allow the center to finish cooking before the outside becomes mushy. Experienced Cantonese chefs will snap soaked rice in half; a white dot in the center of the grain means it is not sufficiently soaked for cooking.

Rice soaking in a bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Cooking the Rice

There are three main stages to cooking clay pot rice: boiling, steaming, and finally, toasting the bottom of the rice. Making clay pot rice well requires patience and care; during the 30 or so minutes it takes for the clay pot rice to cook, there are times when you can fiddle with it, and times when you should just let it be.

To start, you’ll preheat the clay pot for a minute or two, then add the soaked rice and just enough boiling water to cover, then bring it to a boil. This sequence is all about building momentum: Adding boiling water helps to preserve the heat in the clay pot, and helps the rice come to temperature a little faster. This is also the only part of the process where the rice is cooked with the lid off, so  the grains can be stirred to ensure even heat distribution.

When the rice has absorbed enough hot water and the water line dips below the surface of the rice, the second stage—steaming—begins. To help with ventilation that will allow steam to pass through the center of the rice, I use a chopstick to poke small holes into the rice before I arrange the raw toppings on top. With the lid on and the heat turned to low, the ingredients will cook in a gentler, slower manner. As the saturated grains steam, the fats from the toppings, like Chinese cured sausages or meatloaf, will begin to render and drip down into the rice.

After all the water has been absorbed into the rice, the grains will begin to gently sizzle. Though the time varies depending on the shape and size of the pot and the strength of the flame, most 1-quart clay pots usually take about 10 minutes to reach this point.

Upon hearing this sizzling, crackling sound, everything inside the clay pot should basically be fully cooked, and the only step left is to build an even, golden crust of crispy rice on the bottom. Drizzling oil, lard, or schmaltz around the lid so it drips into the pot and onto the rice helps with that process by allowing the bottom of the rice to fry in the fat. Some toppings will produce enough fat on their own for this to happen, but drizzling additional fat down the sides of the clay pot will make it much easier.

Aside from that fat, the positioning of that clay pot on the flame is key to getting a good, even crispy bottom. The key is to place the clay pot at a steep angle so that a quarter of the base is positioned over the flame at all times. The pot then gets rotated by a quarter-turn every minute until the rice is toasted. 

The tricky part? Knowing when the rice is ready. To preserve all the aromatics and the heat within the clay pot, this entire process needs to be done without opening the lid. Since you shouldn't peek into the clay pot itself, there are only two indicators for doneness: the nature of the vapor that escapes from the top of the pot and the sound of rice sizzling.

Water vapor usually comes out of the opening in clouds, whereas smoke—an indication that the rice is burning—looks thinner and smells burnt. As steam escapes the pot, there should be a fine, consistent sizzle, almost like falling sand. When the rice is properly toasted and dried, the crackle will become louder, more coarse, and the rice may even pop, at which point it will be done.

Cantonese clay pot rice tilted on a burner.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Toppings and Variations

The recipe below is a basic clay pot recipe, featuring perhaps the most typical topping in Southern China: lap cheong, or cured Chinese sausage. These dried, hard sausages are usually smoked, lightly sweetened, and seasoned with rose wine, and pair wonderfully with clay pot rice and the seasoned soy sauce it’s served with. Other preserved meats, like liver sausage, Chinese bacon, and cured duck legs, are also popular additions. As they steam over the rice,  they swell and soften, dripping rendered fat below onto the grains.  

I'm sharing two other clay pot rice recipes—one with velveted chicken and another with Chinese meatloaf—which are emblematic of more composed clay pot meals where the toppings are a little more substantial. Though they are typical, these three recipes are by no means exhaustive of all topping possibilities for clay pot rice.

Making the Seasoned Soy Sauce

Last but not least, there’s the seasoned soy sauce that’s always served with clay pot rice.  Some chefs describe the  sauce as the soul of the dish, and every clay pot rice restaurant will take it upon themselves to make their own. Though there are many store-bought options available in Asian grocery stores, making your own gives you finer control of the flavors, as well as a delicious sauce with which to season and prepare other dishes. Keep a batch on hand at all times, and you’ll be able to have clay pot rice whenever you want.

For the Seasoned Soy Sauce: In a small saucepan, melt lard over medium heat until shimmering, about 1 minute. Reduce heat to medium-low and add scallions, shallot, cilantro, garlic, and ginger, and cook, swirling the pan occasionally, until the aromatics are fragrant and begin to turn golden, about 2 minutes. Add Shaoxing wine, water, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, and sugar. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat and simmer for 7 minutes, until thickened. The sauce should be dark, smooth, and slightly thicker than bottled light soy sauce. Pour seasoned soy sauce through a fine-mesh strainer set over a medium heatproof bowl. Refrigerate until chilled.

Seasoned soy sauce being made in a saucepan.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

For the Clay Pot Rice: In a large bowl, combine short-grain and jasmine rice and add 3/4 cup water to cover. Using your hands, vigorously swish rice until water turns cloudy, about 30 seconds. Using a fine-mesh strainer, drain the rice, discarding the cloudy soaking water. Return rice to bowl and cover by 3 inches. Soak for at least 1 hour and up to 3 hours. (To check if the rice has been thoroughly soaked, break a grain in half. There shouldn’t be a visible hard, white center.)

Rice being rinsed in a bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Drain rice through a fine-mesh strainer, making sure any excess water is allowed to drip off.

Rice being drained in a fine-mesh strainer set over a bowl.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Set the clay pot over medium-high heat for about 2 minutes. Add the rice to the pot and top with just enough boiling water, about 1 cup (240ml) to barely cover. Bring the rice and water to a boil, stirring occasionally. When the rice and water begin to bubble, give the rice a final stir to get rid of any clumps, then allow the rice to cook, undisturbed, until water is no longer visible above the rice, about 4 minutes.

Four different stages of rice being cooked in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Reduce heat to low. Using a pair of chopsticks, ventilate the rice by poking a few shallow holes on the surface. Lay the Chinese sausage and blanched greens in the center of the clay pot in an even layer on top of the rice. Cover clay pot and cook over low heat until you can hear a consistent sizzling crackle, about 10 minutes. (Try not to open the lid to check; inconsistent pops mean that the heat is too high.)

Poking holes in rice that's being cooked in a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Without lifting the lid, drizzle lard, schmaltz, or oil all around the lid's rim, allowing it to trickle down into the rice. Position the clay pot so that a quarter of its base is sitting directly over the flame. Continue to cook, rotating the clay pot a quarter-turn every minute until the sizzling sound stops and the escaping steam slows to thin wisps of smoke, about 13 minutes. Be careful not to burn the rice; if the vapor escaping the pot becomes a single, slow wisp or you begin to smell smoke, remove from heat. Remove clay pot from heat and let stand, covered, for 2 minutes.

Oil being drizzled around the lid of a Cantonese clay pot.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

To Serve: Remove the lid, place the egg yolk in the center of the rice, and drizzle with the desired amount of seasoned soy sauce, stirring to mix well. Serve in the clay pot itself, dividing portions up into smaller individual bowls. Once most of the rice has been served, use a metal spoon to scrape up the crispy rice on the bottom, optionally crumbling it into the fluffier rice mixture.

Cantonese clay pot rice with Chinese sausage and greens.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Special Equipment

Cantonese clay pot (about 1 quart in capacity and 18cm in diameter), gas stove

Notes

Using both jasmine and a short- or medium-grain variety produces rice that’s both fluffy and chewy, a texture I particularly enjoy. However, you’re more than welcome to use just one kind of rice instead of a blend.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The seasoned soy sauce can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Chinese Eggplant Salad

A bright and spicy side dish.

Overhead image of eggplant salad on a grey stoneware plate with chop sticks
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Eggplant is one of the most popular vegetables used in cold Chinese dishes known as liangcai (涼菜). Its gentle sweetness and soft texture works very well with a variety of flavors, from garlic and bright herbs to nutty sesame pastes. This version presents the eggplant with a dressing based on my “all-purpose” Chinese-style vinaigrette, but given a spicy flavor with the addition of some chili oil. I also add minced garlic and scallion greens for brightness and herbaceousness.

The basic all-purpose vinaigrette is something I came up with after wondering if it might be possible to develop a Chinese-vinaigrette rule-of-thumb similar to the Western 3:1 ratio of oil to vinegar in dressings. After studying many cold dish recipes, I landed on a ratio of 3:3:1:1 by volume of soy sauce to aromatic oil to vinegar to sugar, respectively. This isn't an absolute rule you'll encounter in all of Chinese cooking, but it's a practical framework for developing dressings that are versatile and balanced. It's also a great jumping-off point for variations, such as my addition of chili oil here in place of part of the aromatic oil in my basic vinaigrette recipe.

The best eggplants for this salad are the long, narrow Chinese eggplants. Find ones that are firm, with bright, darker purple on the exterior and brilliantly white inside. Because Chinese eggplant often has fewer seeds than globe eggplant, it tends to be sweeter. Chinese eggplant is also more resistant to dissolving into mush when cooked thoroughly, and it retains a pleasantly stringy texture. To protect its purple color, the eggplant is soaked briefly in white vinegar, which causes the anthocyanin in the skin to appear more vibrant.

Chopsticks holding up a piece of eggplant
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

I like serving this dish on the side of a family-style meal, especially if the main courses are heavier and warm. Though this salad is served cold, it doesn't shy away from layers of flavor and can stand on its own when eaten with flavorful stir-fries and braised meats. The dressing is also delicious over white rice.

In a medium bowl, combine the white vinegar with 2 cups cold water. Add eggplant and let soak for 10 minutes. Drain well.

Cut eggplants soaking in a metal bowl on a white counter
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Set up a steamer and bring to full-steam over high heat. Add eggplant, cover, and cook until tender throughout but not mushy, about 10 minutes. Alternatively, place drained eggplant in a microwave-safe bowl, cover, and cook until tender throughout but not mushy, about 7 minutes at high power. Let cool to room temperature, then, using your hands, tear cooked eggplant into thick batons.

Three image collage. Top right: Egg plants being steamed. Top Left: Steamed Eggplants in a metal bowl. Bottom: Hands tearing eggplants into strips on a cutting board
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, seasoning oil, chili oil, black vinegar, and sugar until sugar is dissolved.

Four image collage. Top Left: Seasoning oil being added to a bowl. Top Right: Chili Oil being added to seasoning. Bottom Left: Chili crisp added to seasoning. Bottom right: Finished dressing in a white bowl with a spoon
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a bowl, combine eggplants, garlic, and scallion greens. Add dressing 1 tablespoon at a time while gently tossing until eggplant is sufficiently dressed, about 4 tablespoons. Serve.

Two image collage. Top: dressing being spooned over eggplants with garlic and scallions. Bottom: Eggplant salad stacked on a greystone ware tray
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Special Equipment

Steamer or microwave

Notes

The key to deeply purple eggplants is picking younger eggplants that have deep purple skins and lightly colored seeds and flesh inside. Larger eggplant should also be split in half lengthwise.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The vinaigrette can be refrigerated for up to 1 week; whisk well before using. The dressed salad can be refrigerated for up to 2 days but will gradually lose its vibrant color.

Chinese Spinach and Peanut Salad

A light palate-opening appetizer or the perfect accompaniment to a stir-fry or braise.

Overhead view of Peanut and Spinach salad
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

This combination of spinach and peanuts is most commonly found in Dongbei, Northeastern China, where both ingredients grow plentifully in the summer.

Importantly, this recipe demonstrates how Chinese salads almost always feature cooked and not raw vegetables (one of the big exceptions to this, of course, is also one of the most famous: smashed cucumber salad). The process is quite similar to Korean sigeumchi namul and Japanese goma-ae, in which dark leafy greens are also blanched and then squeezed. The idea is simple: water doesn’t taste like much, so blanching and squeezing removes that water, leaving behind more flavor, while also locking in the place the vegetable's vibrant flavor and color.

Hands wringing water out of spinach wrapped in a towel
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

As for the vinaigrette, this recipe takes advantage of my “all-purpose” Chinese vinaigrette, altering that base recipe only with some additional garlic for a bit more punch. This vinaigrette recipe is one I created after surveying scores of recipes for Chinese cold dishes known as liangcai (涼菜). While variations are endless, I found enough common themes among the recipes to come up with a basic all-purpose version built on a by-volume ratio of three parts savory ingredient (like soy sauce) to three parts aromatic oil to one part acidic ingredient (like vinegar) to one part sugar.

It's a versatile dressing that can grace countless dishes, hot and cold, and it can be altered as desired to create different flavor combinations, depending on the dish. Much like a Western vinaigrette's basic 3:1 of oil to vinegar rule-of-thumb, this 3:3:1:1 Chinese dressing ratio is a helpful way to provide some structure and guidelines, making it easier to be creative while producing a flavor profile that is true to the cuisine.

This dish is best served as an appetizer to open up the palate for the rest of the meal or next to heavier braises and stir-fries, as would be traditional in Northern China.

In a small saucepan, cover the peanuts with oil. Set over medium heat and cook, slowly bringing the oil up to 350°F (175°C) and then holding it there, until the peanuts are golden, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the peanuts to a paper towel-lined baking sheet to drain, then transfer to a large metal bowl. Toss the peanuts with the salt and let cool.

Four image Collage. Top Left: a hand pouring oil from a white bowl over peanuts in a pan. Top Right: peanuts boiling in oil. Bottom Left: darkened peanuts strained through a mesh strainer. Bottom right: salted roasted peanuts on a paper towel.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a large bowl, prepare an ice bath. In a large pot of salted boiling water, blanch spinach until just tender and cooked through, about 30 seconds. Using a spider, quickly transfer spinach to ice bath, stirring to chill rapidly. Drain spinach, then wrap in a clean kitchen towel and squeeze to express any excess water. Cut spinach into 2-inch lengths.

Four Image Collage. Top Left: Spinach being put into a dutch oven with boiling water. Top Right: Spinach being blanched in an ice bath. Bottom left: Hands wringing towel wrapped spinach to remove the water. Bottom Right: Cutting off ends of spinach
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, seasoning oil, vinegar, and sugar until well combined.

Small bowl of dressing
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

When ready to serve, combine spinach, peanuts, minced garlic, and vinaigrette. Serve cold.

Plated Peanuts and Spinach dish in a white bowl with a blue rim
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Notes

This salad can be made with any variety of mature (i.e., not baby) spinach. Amaranth and hearty leafy greens, including kale, chard, and jìcài (shepherd’s purse), would all also be good.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The vinaigrette can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week. The dressed salad can be refrigerated, covered, for up to 3 days, but will gradually lose its vibrant color.

Chayote and Apple Salad With Citrus Dressing

Sweet and salty with a delightful crunch.

Plated Chayote and Apple Salad
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Chayote is known as Buddha’s palm in China, a nod to its shape. Much like in its native Mexico, chayote is usually eaten cooked in China, but when served raw, it has a delightful crunch that recalls jicama, with a mild, fruity sweetness somewhere between an apple and a cucumber.

Over head view of 3 chayotes
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

To fully coax out those characteristics, this recipe pairs chayote with thin slices of apple and a light citrus vinaigrette based on the framework of my “all-purpose” Chinese dressing. Instead of the salty and savory kick of soy sauce that my all-purpose recipe calls for, this one uses Japanese ponzu, while lemon juice stands in for the Chinese black vinegar. Korean honey-citron tea concentrate takes the place of granulated sugar, but I use twice as much of the concentrate, as it's half as sweet as pure sugar is. I also round out the seasoning oil with some toasted sesame oil for nutty depth. It's an example of how you can start with that basic recipe and make thoughtful (and even unexpected) changes to any component if you want to create a whole new flavor profile.

Despite all these changes, I stick to my basic ratio (by volume) of three parts salty-savory ingredient, three parts oil, one part acid, and one part sweet.

Of all the recipes I developed to demonstrate the versatility of my all-purpose Chinese-style vinaigrette, this one is certainly the least traditional. Even though I wouldn’t expect to find this in any restaurants or homes back in China, the introduction of citrus to cold dishes isn’t by any means unheard of, and you'll find it in cucumber, noodle, or hand-pulled chicken dishes.

Using a mandoline or a sharp knife, slice the chayote quarters into the thinnest lengthwise slices you can. In a small bowl, massage the chayote slices with lemon zest, kosher salt, and sugar until evenly coated. Let stand at room temperature for at least 1 hour, or up to 8 hours in the refrigerator. Drain the accumulated liquid and discard.

Four Image Collage. Top Left: A chayote being cut on a mandolin. Top Right: cut chayote in a bowl. Bottom right: massaged chayote in a bowl. Bottom left: chayote slices in a glass bowl after water has seeped out
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Using a mandoline or sharp knife, slice the apple quarter into similarly thin lengthwise slices. Transfer to a bowl of lightly salted water (1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt per cup of water) to prevent browning.

Cut apples in a metal bowl with water
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

To make the vinaigrette, in a small bowl, whisk together ponzu, soy sauce, seasoning oil, lemon juice, honey citron tea concentrate, and sesame oil until combined (it won't emulsify, that's okay).

Four Image Collage. Top Left: Ponzu jelly in a glass bowl. Top Right: adding soy sauce to sauce bow. Bottom Left: Lemon juice added to bowl. Bottom Right: finished sauce
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

When ready to serve, toss chayote, apple slices, and red shiso together. Add dressing 1 tablespoon at a time until sufficiently seasoned, about 4 tablespoons. Serve cold.

Chayote slices, apple slices, and red shiso
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Special Equipment

Mandoline slicer or sharp knife

Notes

Red shiso is my preferred herb in this salad, but basil, parsley, and cilantro would all work well.

Korean honey-citron tea, a syrupy concentrate, can be found at most Korean grocery stores. Regular honey is also a good substitute.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The vinaigrette can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Chinese Cold Noodle Salad with Sesame Dressing

Clingy, velvety sauce, starchy noodles, and fresh vegetables.

Sesame Noodles with chili paste, cucumbers, and scallions in a blue bow with a wavy patterm
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

There's a dizzying array of sesame noodle recipes, from American-Chinese takeout-style sesame noodles thickened with peanut butter and the deeply nutty and brilliantly spiced Taiwanese noodles found in local 7-Elevens to spicy Sichuan dandan noodles and soupier Chinese-Japanese tantan noodles.

This recipe presents a basic homestyle version of the dish, utilizing my all-purpose Chinese vinaigrette as its base, which I came up with after studying dozens of Chinese cold dishes, or liangcai (涼菜), a wide range of vegetable and meat dishes that are served chilled and dressed. While those recipes vary and the dressings vary, too, I found enough common elements that, with a bit of testing, I was able to come up with a basic version that can be used and adjusted as one wishes, much like an all-purpose salad vinaigrette.

The key ingredients in my all-purpose Chinese dressing are soy sauce, a homemade aromatic oil, vinegar, and sugar, in a ratio by volume of 3:3:1:1, respectively. To alter that basic formula for these sesame noodles, I took the oil component and split it so that it's one part homemade aromatic oil and two parts toasted sesame oil. Then I whisk in some sesame paste, first dissolved in warm water, to bulk up the sesame flavor and create a creamier, emulsified sauce.

Sesame noodles being lifted out of blue bowl
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

For the noodles, I chose thin wheat noodles, which I boil, drain, toss with oil, and then chill, all without rinsing. Rinsing is a common technique in many cold noodle recipes, as it cools them quickly and, by washing off surface starches, prevents sticking as they sit. By lightly coating mine with oil, I'm able to retain those surface starches while still preventing sticking, which are helpful later when it comes time to dress them—the dressing clings more evenly to the noodles thanks to those surface starches and the thin coating of oil.

The toppings suggested here are traditional and simple—sesame seeds, cucumbers, and scallions for freshness and textural contrast—but feel free to get creative.

In a pot of boiling water, cook noodles until slightly more cooked than al dente (use the time included on the package directions). Drain well, then toss with the neutral oil so the noodles don’t stick to each other. Spread noodles out in a thin layer on a tray and refrigerate until fully chilled, about 1 hour.

Two image collage. Top Image: Noodles in boiling water on a stove stop. Bottom Image: Cooked noodles being lifted out of a pot
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

While the noodles are chilling, stir the sesame paste with the warm water until smooth. Stir in soy sauce, sesame oil, vinegar, sugar, and seasoning oil until thoroughly combined.

Two image collage. Left: Unmixed soy sauce and sesame paste. Right: Sesame dressing mixed until smooth
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Toss the chilled noodles with about 6 tablespoons (90ml) of the vinaigrette until thoroughly coated. Garnish with toasted sesame seeds, cucumbers,  scallions, and chili garlic sauce (if using), and serve.

Two image collage. Top: Dressing sesame noodles being lifted out of a mixing bowl. Bottom: Bowl of noodles with sesame seed, cucumber, and chili sauce on top.
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Notes

Chinese sesame paste, unlike most commercially available tahini, is always made with toasted sesame seeds.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The vinaigrette can be made up to 1 week in advance; keep refrigerated in an airtight container.

The noodles, once tossed in the sauce, will hold up to 1 day in the refrigerator, but any longer and the noodles will lose their textural quality.

All-Purpose Chinese Vinaigrette for Cold Vegetable Dishes

A basic template with infinite flavor possibilities.

Bottle of all purpose vingeriatte on a counter with a chef cooking in the background
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

There’s a pretty well-known, "magical" vinaigrette ratio out there in Western cooking: one part acid to three parts oil. For most salads, this is the perfect starting point for a balanced vinaigrette, where the richness of oil just matches the brightness of the acid. Of course, it's just that—a starting point—and adjustments and variations are possible depending on the dish and one's taste. But it's still a useful rule to keep in mind, as it allows a home cook to quickly whip up a basic vinaigrette with confidence.

In the same vein, I’ve always wondered whether there was a similarly useful ratio for Chinese salads.

Now, Chinese salads are a little bit different. In the Western world, the term salad most commonly implies a dish built on dressed, raw leafy greens. In China, the dishes that are translated to "salads" are perhaps more elegantly categorized as "cold dishes," or liangcai (涼菜). These cold dishes are often built from cooked (or at least cured) vegetables and meats that are then chilled and tossed with aromatics and a sauce. There is a whole world of dishes that fall into this category, including popular ones like bang bang ji si, century egg salad, and smashed cucumbers.

Overhead view of a selection of chinese salads
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Reading through Chinese cold dish recipes, you’ll notice many of the same ingredients appear over and over again in their dressings: soy sauce, Zhenjiang black vinegar, sugar, sesame oil, salt, garlic, chiles. And after quite a bit of testing, I believe I’ve pared an all-purpose recipe down to a basic ratio of three parts soy sauce to three parts oil to one part vinegar and one part sugar, all by volume.

How to Use and Modify the Dressing


Theoretically, this sauce can be made in advance and left in the fridge for two to three weeks, but in practice, I find myself building the dressings on the fly given how easy it is, especially once the aromatic oil is prepped.

This makes it easy to customize and elaborate on the dressing as well. Keeping in mind the core vegetable flavors of any specific dish, each component of the dressing can be substituted with similar ingredients. Soy sauce is, in its simplest sense, a salty liquid; oils can come in a wide range of flavors and types; there are many kinds of vinegar and other acids like citrus juices; and sugar is just one of many options for sweetness. To demonstrate this point, I developed four recipes that take this basic vinaigrette template and modify it to work for the cold dish in question. In my fruit-forward chayote salad, I substitute citrusy ponzu for a part of the soy sauce, fresh lemon juice for vinegar, and Korean honey-citron tea concentrate (a sweet, syrupy liquid) for sugar. In my cold eggplant dish, I replace half of the aromatic oil with chili oil for a spicy kick.

Close up of eggplant salad
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Aside from substituting all or part of the base ingredients, you can also alter the vinaigrette's flavor by adding aromatic ingredients and spices. Grated or minced garlic is perhaps the most obvious addition for most dishes, followed by other alliums like shallots and scallions. Ginger, galangal, fresh chiles, cilantro, basil, and other fresh herbs also work well to complement and complicate the flavor profile. This is something I do in my peanut and spinach salad recipe, adding a bit of minced garlic to the dressing to add complexity.

Finally, other flavorful pastes, like wasabi, shrimp paste, or sesame paste, can introduce a whole new dimension to the dressing, as in the sesame dressing in this Chinese cold noodle salad. If anything, it should probably be said that though the inspiration of this dressing is Chinese, the flavor possibilities are endless.

To better understand the building blocks of the dressing, let's take a look at each of the dressing's components and the role it plays:

Soy Sauce

As the primary component of the vinaigrette, soy sauce brings complexity, salt, and umami to the dish. As a rule of thumb, it’s best to turn to lighter soy sauce varieties here, primarily Chinese light soy sauce or Japanese usukuchi shoyu. Though I’d also encourage creative substitutions of those basic soy sauces–either entirely or partially–with other seasoned soy sauces or salty liquids like Maggi, shirodashi, Dong Gu (a brand of soy sauce with a sweeter flavor), or fish sauce. Sho wrote a handy guide to soy sauce varieties that will help here.

Oil

One of the more interesting rules you may come across when working with Chinese cold dishes is the axiom of never consuming raw/uncooked oil. In kitchens across China, I’ve been told myriad reasons for not consuming unheated oil: higher levels of saturated fats, off grassy flavors, viscosity changes and so on.

While I can't speak to the health claims, my testing backs up some of the culinary reasons for heating the oil. When purchased off the shelf, some refined oils like canola, vegetable, or soy indeed have off, grassy flavors that heating helps eliminate, though the effect was subtle in my testing. Because most modern oils are already heated, refined with alkaline chemicals, degummed, bleached, and deodorized, heating them at home does not dramatically alter the flavor profile. 

All in all, a more convincing reason to “cook” an oil before using it in cold dishes is that heating the oil presents an opportunity to add new layers of flavor and aromatics to a dish. In many, if not most, Chinese restaurants, making aromatic seasoning oils is general practice. Chili oil is one popular example, but there are flavor compounds in spices, herbs, alliums, and vegetables that are only soluble in oil, and heating them up extracts those flavors more quickly. In the all-purpose dressing recipe below, I infuse oil with basic aromatics and spices to produce a seasoning oil that’s delicately layered for cold dishes but robust enough for hot applications.

All purpose oil
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Finally, a couple caveats about heating oil. First, unrefined oils like extra-virgin olive oil and sesame should not be heated, as heat will disrupt some of their most pleasant aromatic properties. Second, repeated heating and cooling of oil will eventually degrade the oil, which some studies have linked to negative health impacts, so be sure not to use oil that's been heated and cooled multiple times (such as old frying oil). Third, though it’s common practice in commercial Chinese kitchens to reuse stir-frying or deep-frying oil for cold dishes, be aware that the oil may have picked up flavors of foods that may not be compatible with your cold dishes.

Vinegar

The most common vinegar in Chinese cold dishes is Zhenjiang vinegar, or Chinese black vinegar. Zhenjiang is a city in the Eastern province of Jiangsu, next to Shanghai, that has a global reputation for producing aromatic vinegars primarily from rice, but with other additions of grains like wheat, barley, millet, and sorghum. Most often compared to balsamic vinegar, Zhenjiang vinegar is a dark color with a fruity flavor and subtle savory notes.

I would also suggest exploring three popular alternatives to Zhenjiang vinegar for salad dressings. The first is Taiwanese black vinegar, which is a younger sauce made by steeping sticky rice vinegar with aromatics, spices, and vegetables, producing a fruitier, simpler finish. Second is Japanese rice vinegar, which is clear and tastes comparatively mellow. And third, lemon or lime juice, for a fruitier pop.

Sugar

White sugar is the most commonly used sugar, for its simplicity and neutral flavor, and it's used in the dressing to balance the saltiness of the soy sauce and the bite of vinegar. Brown sugar, palm sugar, or even black sugar (unrefined cane sugar) are all earthier substitutes that would work well for more complex sauces, but you should also consider using liquid sweeteners, like honey and agave. I would not recommend using other common Chinese sugars, like rock sugar and jaggery, which aren’t conducive to sauce-making due to their large, irregular shapes (dissolving them in a small amount of liquid can be a challenge).

For the Seasoning Oil: In a small bowl, cover Sichuan peppercorns, dried chile, bay leaf, and star anise pod with cold water and soak for 5 minutes. Drain well.

Bay left, pepper, and anise in a small round bowl
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

In a small pot, combine oil, drained spices, scallion, shallot, ginger, and garlic. Set over low heat and cook until the scallions and garlic are gently frying and have turned an amber brown color, about 8 minutes. Remove from heat, strain into a heatproof container, and let cool; discard the solids.

Four Image Collage. Top Right: Aromatics and spices in oil in pot on stovetop. Top Right: Oil boiling with ingredients. Bottom Left: Ingredients browned in oil. Bottom Right: Ingredients in a mess strainer
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

For the Vinaigrette: In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, sugar, black vinegar, and seasoning oil until sugar is dissolved. The final dressing will not remain emulsified, so mix or shake it just before using.

All-purpose Chinese Vinaigrette in a glass bottle on a white backdrop next to a salad
Serious Eats / Amanda Suarez

Special Equipment

Fine-mesh strainer

Notes

The seasoning oil is entirely customizable. Many Chinese restaurants and households have their own signature blend of aromatics and spices for their infused oils. Other popular additions include: coriander seeds, cinnamon, fennel, cumin, black cardamom, cloves, galangal, lemongrass, onions, Chinese celery, and carrots.

The seasoning oil is a great base for hot dishes as well: stir-fries, rice, noodles, and stews can all be made with this highly aromatic oil.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The strained seasoning oil can be refrigerated for up to 1 week.

Essential Chinese Knife Skills and Techniques

A comprehensive guide to common knife cuts drawn from the Chinese culinary techniques used when cooking the vast majority of the dishes that fall under the very large umbrella of the cuisine.

Overhead view of a cutting board showcasing multiple types of cuts of carrots, radishes, onions, meat, and cucumbers
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Knife skills are an essential part of any culinary tradition. They give cooks the ability to safely and efficiently cut up ingredients in ways that are appropriate for the dishes they'll be used to create.

To that end, I've written a guide to some common knife cuts drawn from Chinese culinary techniques. This guide is by no means exhaustive—it covers only some of the most commonly used knife cuts in Chinese kitchens—but if you become proficient at cutting vegetables and meats in the ways I've described below, they will serve you well when cooking the vast majority of the dishes that fall under the very large umbrella of Chinese cuisine.

One of the things to keep in mind about these cuts is that they were developed for use with a Chinese-style cleaver. Unlike cleavers from Western culinary traditions, which are primarily used for chopping through bones, Chinese-style cleavers are incredibly versatile, used for vegetables just as often as they're used for slicing fish or cutting up meat. While most Chinese knives are referred to as "cleavers" in English (likely a consequence of their resemblance to a Western-style cleaver), they should not all be used for heavy work like chopping through bone; in fact, there are three primary types of Chinese cleavers—thin blades best suited to more delicate tasks like slicing and dicing, thicker ones for chopping through bone, and hybrid styles that are thicker near the heel for heavy-duty work and thinner at the tip for finer cuts. That being said, I think all of the techniques I describe below can be done with Western-style knives, or even Japanese-style knives, like santokus and gyutous (the photos below demonstrate the cuts using various knife styles). However, a Chinese-style cleaver will be far easier to use when, for example, smashing ginger or garlic.

Roll Cut

This is my favorite cut for cylindrical vegetables for most stir-fries and braises. It produces cuts with a large amount of surface area, which makes them ideal for absorbing flavors, while also producing an even, rounded shape that can be easily tossed in a wok.

Overhead of a 4-image step-by-step collage of a roll cut being demonstrated with a carrot
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

To cut the vegetables, slice them at a 45-degree angle, then rotate the vegetable a quarter turn before executing the next cut. You can place the index finger of your non-dominant hand on the top of the vegetable to help you judge how far to rotate it. As the cylinder widens, as with a carrot, you can cut smaller chunks off the cylinder to keep the cuts the same size. Large vegetables, like a very large carrot, can be split lengthwise to make thinner lengths before being roll cut.

Commonly used for: Any cylindrical vegetable, for stir-fries or braises

Straight Cut 直刀

This is the most basic cleaver cut, where the weight of the cleaver guides the blade through a solid ingredient. This cut is designed to offer control at speed. While the goal is to minimize any forward movement of the knife, there is still some forward movement. You can place one or two fingers of your dominant hand to grip the flat of the knife: one finger will give you less control; with two fingers, the balance of the knife shifts forward, giving you a little more lateral control that encourages you to lean a little more weight into the cut.

A two-photo collage of cutting an onion using the straight cut
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

To cut vegetables, first make sure that whatever you're cutting has a flat surface that can lie directly on the cutting board. Then position your non-dominant hand so that it rests on top of the vegetable, with your fingers curled into a claw; this hand will guide the placement of the blade. Using a sufficiently sharp and heavy knife (like a cleaver), make cuts using a mostly downwards motion with minimal forward movement, letting gravity exert most of the force on the knife. As one slice is completed, shift your non-dominant hand slightly back before the next cut.

Commonly used for: Firm fruits and vegetables, such as potatoes, cucumbers, carrots, onions

Push Cut

This technique gives you a high degree of precision because you start the cutting motion with the thinnest part of the blade, toward the tip.

Two-image collage showing steps of a push cut on a potato, with the knife sliding forward to make thin slices of potato
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

To start, position your non-dominant hand over the ingredient and form your fingers into a claw. Using the knuckles of your non-dominant hand as a guide, start slicing the ingredient by moving the knife forward as you press down, starting with the front part of the blade and using as much of its length as is necessary to complete the cut. This cut is easiest to do with a blade that has a flat profile along its edge, like a Chinese-style cleaver, a santoku, or a nakiri. With a Western-style chef's knife or gyutou, both of which have a curved blade profile, executing this cut can look like a kind of forward rolling motion.

Commonly used for: Thin slices and strips of cooked meats, fruits and vegetables, tofu

Pull Cut

This technique is used to minimize bruising on tender vegetables and herbs, like chives and scallions. It's also useful for cutting up soft, wet ingredients that have a tendency to stick to the blade, like meat.

Two-step collage of a chef using a pull cut on a slab of pork
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

To start, position your non-dominant hand over the ingredient and form your fingers into a claw. Using the knuckles of your non-dominant hand as a guide, start slicing the ingredient with the heel of the blade, then pull the blade towards you as you press down, using as much of its length as is necessary to complete the cut. You can anchor the tip of the blade on the cutting board so that most of the slicing is done towards the heel.

Commonly used for: Strips of meat, leafy herbs

Strip Cut (Julienne)

The one everyone knows: thin, uniformly cut strips, with a width and thickness of about 2mm x 2mm. Strip cut ingredients can easily be picked up with chopsticks; they also recall the shape of thin noodles. 

Side angle view of a potato being julienned into fine strips
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

To produce the strips, start by slicing your vegetables into thin planks, then stack the planks and cut through the stack to create consistent strips. Alternatively, you can shingle the thin planks across the cutting board and, using the knuckles of your non-dominant hand to guide the blade, slice the planks into strips.

Commonly used for: Fruits and vegetables

Dice

A cut that can be made after you've cut an ingredient into strips; the size of the dice is determined by the width/thickness of the strips. Line up strips of your ingredient and slice them crosswise to produce cubes of a consistent size. 

A 4-step collage showing a cucumber being diced
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Dicing is important for aromatics or ingredients that need to be bloomed quickly, like bacon, Chinese sausage, as it creates a lot of surface area, and it produces small, uniformly sized pieces for mixed dishes like fried rice.

Commonly used for: Bacon, Chinese sausage

Saw Cut

This is a cut that's used on soft ingredients, and while it's most often used with a serrated or bread knife, any knife can be used as a saw.

A 4-step collage of a loaf of bread being cut using the saw cut technique
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

No matter what knife you use, exert as little downward pressure as possible, and rely instead on the backward and forward motion of the knife to help the knife's edge saw through the ingredient. The goal is to maintain the structural integrity of whatever you're cutting into presentable slices.

Commonly used for: Bread, dough, tomatoes with a dull knife, jelly-like items, frozen tofu

Smash

This is a quick and efficient way to pulverize ingredients that you want to mince finely, like garlic and ginger. It quickly extracts aromatic compounds, like alliinase in garlic, but also releases a maximum of water and oil, which in turn maximizes the flavor of the ingredient. 

3-step photo collage of using the side of a knife to smash cut pieces of garlic
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Start by holding the knife in your non-dominant hand, positioning the flat of the knife over a small piece of the ingredient you want to smash. Then bring your dominant hand down in a quick, firm motion to smash the ingredient. It's important to position the ingredient you're smashing in the correct way. For ginger, you want to position the pieces you're smashing so the grain of the rhizome is perpendicular to the cutting board; for garlic, you'll want to halve the cloves and position them vertically, cut side down, on the board. 

Commonly used for: Garlic, ginger

Slap Cut

This technique is for cutting quickly and cleanly through ingredients, whether they're soft, like a boiled egg, or brittle, like chicken bones. It minimizes that amount of sawing action, which can produce unsightly sawing lines, as with an egg; it also minimizes shattering and the possibility of cutting yourself when cutting through bones. When used on bones, it is typically done with a thick cleaver.

To demonstrate the slap cut, one hand holds the knife by ints handle while the other hand slaps down to push the blade through a chicken wing.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Lodge the knife in the ingredient by sawing into it. Stabilize the knife with your dominant hand, then pound the spine of the knife firmly with your non-dominant hand to finish the cut.

Commonly used for: Cooked eggs, bone-in chicken pieces

Rock Chop

This is a quick and efficient way to finely chop a large amount of a given ingredient without being too precise.

Two-image collage of a chef rocking a knife across ginger for a rock chop.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Anchor the tip of the knife to the cutting board with your non-dominant hand placed on the spine of the knife, toward the tip, then rock the back end of the knife so the blade passes through the ingredients. For an even faster cut, you can hover your non-dominant hand over the front half of the knife and, when the tip comes up as you rock chop, you can push it back down using your non-dominant hand so that the blade tip bounces back down, allowing you to chop with both the tip and the heel of the knife. It's helpful to use "soft hands"—that is, to not grip the knife too tightly as you do this cut.

Commonly used for: Garlic, ginger, soaked spices

Gallop Chop

Named after the sound of galloping horses, Chinese chefs use this technique to mince large quantities of an ingredient, usually meat or fish. I think of it sometimes as being a "clop chop" because of the sound it produces. I want to stress that this is not just a manual method for mimicking the effect of a food processor or a meat grinder; while the final mince may look similar to meat processed using those other methods, the texture is distinctly different and quite important for a the light and soft texture of a dish like lion's head meatballs.

A gif of pork being cut using a Gallop Cut
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Using two heavy knives (preferably cleavers), chop the ingredient up using firm, regular downward strokes. If you can manage it, try to go at double speed with the knife in your dominant hand. As you chop, use the cleavers to bring the mass of ingredients back together. 

Commonly used for: Herbs, relishes, meat, fish, and shellfish

Horizontal Slice

This is a technique that's used to produce thin slices of an ingredient, typically used for meat and fish, but also for the end bits of vegetables, like potatoes or turnips. While it offers the accomplished practitioner a fair amount of control in determining the thickness of the slices, it's a difficult technique, and it can be dangerous, as it requires you to saw a thin slice of the ingredient as you stabilize the top of the ingredient with your fingers; it requires a sharp knife, a steady hand, and your undivided attention. If you're not comfortable cutting towards your fingers in this way, you can use the bias slice to produce similar cuts while slicing away from yourself with the blade.

A knife going through a piece of pork at a horizontal angle.

When using this technique on meat, it's helpful to partially freeze the ingredient first (in China, some home fridges have a special compartment that's held at 32°F, so items placed in that compartment are just barely frozen and ready for slicing). When freezing ingredients, try to freeze them flat, in the form that you want to slice them. 

With the fingers of your non-dominant hand, press down on the surface of the ingredient. Holding the knife horizontally, parallel to the cutting board, use a sawing motion to create thin slices. The cutting should be mostly done by the sawing motion, not through the use of force exerted by your dominant hand.

Commonly used for: Slices of fresh meat, slicing ends of vegetables when finger space runs out

Bias Slice

This is a common cutting technique for preparing sashimi, as it allows you to precisely cut thin, elegant slices at an angle against the grain of the flesh (it's a translation of the Japanese sashimi cutting technique known as hirazukuri). 

A piece of fish being sliced on the bias, with fingers from the non-dominant hand securing the slice as it's cut from the fish.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

At a 45° angle, cut off a small piece of the ingredient so you have a flat incline. Place two to three fingers of your non-dominant hand on the flat incline, then begin cutting just under your fingers at a 45° angle starting with the heel of the knife, pulling the blade back toward your body and using the length of the blade to slice through the ingredient. Just before cutting through to sever the slice from the rest of the ingredient block, rotate the knife so it's perpendicular to the cutting board and pull to complete the cut; remove the slice with your non-dominant hand.

Commonly used for: Fresh meat and seafood, when precise, thin, clean slices are needed, for use in things like hot pot and stir-fries

Reverse Bias Slice

This is an easy technique to cut vegetables on a bias while protecting your fingers that's most often used with leeks and scallions, but can also be used for greens like gai lan or stems like asparagus. It also can be used as an easier alternative to the horizontal slice. 

Scallions being cut using the reverse bias, where the fingers of the non-dominant hand lay on top of the ingredient and form the incline that will determine the cut; the knife blade is perpendicular to the cutting board, and angled slightly down.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Positioning your non-dominant hand over the ingredient, using your knuckles to form an incline. Using your knuckles as a guide, pull the knife toward you while slicing down, using the length of the blade to cut through the ingredient.

Commonly used for: Leeks and scallions are most common, but this is also an alternative and easier technique than bias slices for meats

Suanla Tudousi (Hot-and-Sour Sichuan Stir-Fried Potatoes)

Crisp-tender potatoes dressed with vinegar, chiles, Sichuan peppercorns, and more.

A plate of very thin strands of stir-fried potato and red and green pepper; the potato looks softened but not limp, and is a beige color that hints at the sauce it absorbed in the wok.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

In Chinese, there’s an idea of “kai wei,” to open up the stomach and prepare the palate for the meal. Like an amuse bouche, these dishes aim to perk interest and awaken the senses, which this Sichuan stir-fried potato does with freshness, acidity, a crisp-tender texture, and a tingle of numbing heat.

As part of a generous table filled with Sichuan dishes—bright red dry pot, mouth-numbing mapo tofu, and robust braised meats, for example—these potatoes are a perfect complement to the explosive flavors that may otherwise overwhelm. Featuring al dente, waxy potato shreds paired with scallions, garlic, and a combination of dried and fresh chile peppers, the result is a layered side dish that the entire table constantly returns to between bites of the more aggressively flavored offerings.

While potatoes are more commonly categorized as a starch in the West, Chinese cooking more often recognizes potatoes as a vegetable, like eggplants or leafy greens, to be imbued with potent flavors and eaten with plain rice. And if there’s any doubt that potatoes can and should be eaten with rice, this recipe is a great introduction to some of the wok-cooking techniques that make such a good case for it.

Potato strands being tossed in the wok.

Because this style of wok cooking is done in such a short amount of time and at such high heat, being well prepared prior to the stir-fry is imperative:

  • First, all the ingredients need to be pre-cut in a consistent shape and size for even cooking; the potatoes, peppers, scallions, and garlic are all cut so they can easily mix into each other and be picked up at once with chopsticks.
  • Second, the potatoes are blanched quickly to kick-start the cooking process. It can be difficult to cook raw vegetables evenly in a wok, especially if they’re irregularly shaped, such as florets of cauliflower or broccoli. In this case, even though the vegetable strands are cut evenly, blanching still helps to ensure the essential delicate crisp-tender texture of the potatoes that the dish requires.
  • Third, the seasonings should be mixed prior to cooking to minimize interruptions to the continuous tossing of the wok.

This is, it's worth noting, just one of many renditions of this dish. It can be served hot as a side or cold as an appetizer. There’s also a version called qiangchao tudousi ("blanch-fried shredded potatoes") that's seasoned more simply, with most of the peppers and vinegar taken out of the equation. And there are even iterations beyond the borders of China, from the Tibetan alu sipsip to the Korean gamja bokkeum.

Place shredded potatoes in a medium bowl, cover with cold water, and soak for 5 minutes. Using your hands, swish potatoes until water turns cloudy, about 30 seconds. Using a colander, drain potatoes, discarding the cloudy soaking water. Return potatoes to bowl, refill with cold water, and repeat process until water runs clear, at least 2 more times. Drain, and set aside; refill now-empty bowl with cold water and set aside as well. Using sharp kitchen shears, cut chiles lengthwise into threads. Place in small bowl, cover with cold water and soak for 5 minutes, then drain and set aside.

Shredded potato strands in a bowl of water.

Fill a wok with about 4 inches water, season generously with salt, and bring to a boil over high heat. Add potatoes and cook until barely translucent, about 30 seconds. Transfer to prepared bowl of cold water, then rinse under running cold water until completely chilled. Drain well and set aside. In a small bowl, combine black vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, and MSG. Stir until well combined and sugar is dissolved; set aside.

The blanched potato strands being lifted out of the wok of boiling water using a spider and chopsticks

Heat a carbon-steel wok or large carbon-steel skillet over high heat until lightly smoking. Add oil, swirling to coat wok, and heat until oil is lightly smoking. Pour half the oil into a heatproof bowl; reserve extra oil for another use. Remove wok from heat and add Sichuan peppercorns to remaining oil, swirling wok occasionally, until peppercorns are fragrant and toasted but not burnt, about 30 seconds. Using a slotted spoon or spider, strain and discard Sichuan peppercorns, leaving oil in the wok.

Sichuan peppercorns toasting in a smoky wok.

Increase heat to high and heat oil until just smoking. Add dried chiles, scallion, and garlic. Cook until aromatic, stirring constantly with a wok spatula and taking care not to brown the garlic, about 10 seconds.

Scallions, thinly sliced dried chiles, and garlic in the wok.

Add reserved potatoes, and continue to cook, stirring and tossing constantly, until potatoes are barely cooked through but still retain their crisp texture, about 1 minute. Add red and green chile peppers and cook, stirring and tossing, until just barely cooked and still crisp, about 30 seconds.

Potato and pepper strands cooking in the wok as a spatula moves them around.

Working quickly, pour the black vinegar mixture around the sides of the wok and toss until well combined, about 20 seconds. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional salt and sugar, if needed. Transfer to a serving bowl, and serve immediately as a hot dish, or allow to cool to room temperature and then refrigerate until completely chilled, and serve cold.

Seasoning liquid being poured into wok, up around its rim so that it sizzles on contact.

Special Equipment

Carbon steel wok, spider

Notes

At home, it’s best to cook this dish at this batch size and not to increase the quantities, so as to prevent overcrowding of the wok.

If you want a less spicy version of the dish, you can substitute an equal quantity of red and green bell (or Anaheim) peppers.

To make a less aggressively seasoned version of this dish, a cleanly seasoned dish called 炝炒土豆丝, or blanch-fried potatoes, halve the amount of peppers and omit the black vinegar.

If you can’t find Totole Granulated Chicken Soup Mix, you can substitute any other chicken broth powder, such as Orrington Farms Chicken Broth powder.

If you want to dress up the finished dish, whether served hot or cold, you can toss it with a chile oil of your choosing.

Make-Ahead and Storage

To serve this dish cold, the stir-fry can be made up to 2 days in advance and refrigerated in an airtight container.