Friday, December 29, 2006
Hot Pot
http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-061215hotpot-story,0,5238551.storyBy Monica Eng
Tribune staff reporter
Published December 21, 2006
Now that winter has sunk into our bones, huddling around a hot pot, that Asian hybrid of soup and fondue, is more attractive than ever. Hot pot pairs a kettle of bubbling broth with raw ingredients that are simmered, boiled, blanched or just dipped in the brew as part of a communal dinner party.
It is an interactive meal that is as much about eating as it is about leisurely catching up with dining mates, steeling your system for winter (with herbs to balance winter yin and yang) and creating a delicious complex broth by the end of the meal. You can also find similar versions of hot pot in Korean, Thai, Vietnamese and Japanese restaurants (where it's called shabu-shabu or swish swish).
For the Chinese version--called huo guo--we drove to Mandarin Kitchen in Chinatown, where they use the famous brand of broth mix called Little Fat Lamb. The mix includes medicinal herbs, spices and foods including jujube, ginkgo nut, ginger, green onion, garlic, sesame seeds--and lots of other things we couldn't even translate. It's mixed with long-simmered beef and chicken broths to create the base for this table-top temptation.
What makes it good: A deeply flavored, well-seasoned broth (many prefer specific brand mixes such as Little Fat Lamb); fresh raw ingredients; high-quality meat, preferably rolled into delicate frozen tubes, and tasty carbohydrate finishers, such as dumplings. Most good places also offer at least three sauces for custom mixing.
How it works: Diners at Mandarin Kitchen start by choosing one of three broths: mild, spicy or a split pot featuring both called "phoenix and peacock."
Then, says our guide Huang, "you would find out about preferences and allergies around the table and figure out what ingredients to order to put in the soup."
You usually want to order some meats or seafood, then lots of vegetables as well as a starch that arrives near the end of the meal. A burner--gas, electric or charcoal--will be set on the table.
The meal starts with the arrival of the broth in a large pot that is placed on the burner. While you wait for the broth to boil, mix your individual dipping sauce; ours included a satay, peanut and garlic.
Once the ingredients begin arriving, start the cooking with meats to further flavor the broth. While the Chinese often cook their thinly sliced meats to well done, others may prefer to simply swish their frozen slices through the broth for a medium rare. Vegetables that require more cooking time (like raw taro, potato or winter melon) can then be added, followed by tofu, noodles and delicate vegetables and greens such as baby bok choy, cilantro, watercress and pea shoots. If you are particularly fond of a tasty morsel, hold it in your basket as it cooks so you don't lose it in the broth.
How to eat it: Once your food reaches the desired doneness, simply fish it out with chopsticks or your metal basket scooper, dip it into your sauce and eat. Food that comes out of the milder peacock broth may benefit from a dip in sauce; the fiery chile-and-oil laden phoenix broth often coats food with enough flavor during cooking.
As the meal winds down, starch dishes (we had scallion pancakes and boiled dumplings called jiao zi) arrive to complement the meat and vegetables.
When the final piece of food has been cooked and eaten, diners can ask for a ladle and new bowls--or they can use their sauce bowls for extra flavor--to sip the now concentrated and complex broth that has absorbed the flavors of all the ingredients cooked in it.
A custom or two: Although everyone can take part in chucking the food in the pot, the host often takes charge of the meal and will, at least initially, dole out choices bits from the pot to guests.
Some like leisurely-paced hot pot meals with only a few ingredients going into the pot at a time. Others prefer to dump all the ingredients in at once, which causes the stock to stop boiling but brings all the flavors together at once.
Hot tea and cold beer both complement the dish. Mandarin Chef doesn't sell liquor but they allow diners to bring their own.
In ancient times, it was said that when the chrysanthemums bloom--that is, when cold weather arrives--it is time for hot pot. Today, it is eaten year round.
# posted by Panda @ 10:37 AM 
