THE DISH MAY 29, 2009
Zongzi
These Bamboo-Leaf Wrapped Bundles Are a Dragon Boat Festival Treat
By AMY MA
"It's gooey, aromatic and delicious," says food writer Fuchsia Dunlop about zongzi, or "glutinous rice wrapped in indocalamus (giant bamboo) leaves and stuffed with savory or sweet fillings."
Celebrity chef Martin Yan calls zongzi "good ol' Chinese comfort food," adding, "Every sticky bite takes me back to my childhood in Guangzhou with my mom and aunties chatting in the kitchen as they wrap up a batch."
All zongzi features a bamboo-leaf wrapping and is trussed with twine or thin seaweed leaves before it is boiled or steamed until the contents are tender and fully cooked. The shape of the bundle and what's inside – aside from the requisite sticky rice – varies and is often a clue to its geographic origins.
Long, cylindrical-shaped zongzi called xian rou zong – what you'll typically find in Zhejiang, Hunan or Shanghai – are stuffed with marinated pork and rice. Large, pyramid-shaped zongzi, called guo jing zong, come from Guangdong and contain rice, salted duck egg yolk, black mushroom, dried shrimp, cooked peanuts, roasted chestnuts, Chinese sausage, abalone and char siu (roasted pork). Taiwanese prefer smaller, pyramid-shaped zongzi with fillings similar to the Cantonese guo jing zong just described, but season the rice with rendered pork fat, soy sauce and bits of deep-fried shallots.
Sweet zongzi look just like the savory kind, but in most cases they're filled with red-bean paste and are especially popular in the northern areas of China, says Chef Yan.
Zongzi has spread with the Chinese diaspora, and today there are variations in Malaysian, Cambodian, Vietnamese and Thai cuisine. "The Japanese even have a version called chimaki, which they make during Children's Day (May 5th)," says Fergus Fung, co-founder of the WOM Guide, a Hong Kong restaurant-review book.
The History
Few have tasted zongzi without hearing the tragic tale of Qu Yuan, a poet and member of the Chu state ruling family during the Warring States period (475-221 B.C.) There are several versions of Qu Yuan's legend, but an oft-told story says that the poet, a high official in the state, urged the Chus to resist the powerful Qin state and ally themselves with the Qi state to the east. Jealous rivals conspired against Qu Yuan and eventually had him banished to a region south of the Yangtze river. When the Qins invaded and captured the Chu capital in 278 B.C., Qu Yuan jumped in despair into the Miluo river, a Yangtze tributary, and drowned.
"Qu Yuan was quite the popular guy," says Mr. Fung, the food guide creator. "Heartbroken by his death, the people searched for his corpse, but failed. They couldn't stand the thought of fish eating him, so they threw zongzi into the river hoping that glutinous rice balls were more appetizing than Qu Yuan's body. And if that wasn't enough, they also rowed out dragon boats with loud drums to drive the fish away."
Historical records of leaf-wrapped rice packages in the shape of "horns" are referenced in texts from the Jin Dynasty (A.D. 265-420), according to Ms. Dunlop, the author. The Jin texts mention boiled "broom corn millet horns" – wild leaves stuffed with glutinous rice – that were made "as a sacrificial offering during mid-summer, when crops were ripening."
The Setting
Zongzi is a centerpiece of the Dragon Boat festival, Duan Wu Jie, which commemorate's Qu Yuan's story. On the fifth day of the fifth lunar month – May 28 this year – the custom of going out in dragon boats is played out in communities in China, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Macau, where it is celebrated as a public holiday.
In some parts of rural China, says Chef Yan, people still throw zongzi in the river on the holiday, but this ritual is becoming more rare. These days, it's usually served to people, not fish, and the hearty, carb-loaded bundle is eaten mostly during the summer, at any time of day.
"My favorite time for them is breakfast," says Mr. Fung.
"Zongzi are a type of xiao chi, or snack food," says Ms. Dunlop. "They are not meant to be main entrées by themselves, but some of the larger Cantonese-style ones are quite a meal on their own. At the end, there are very few rules when eating something this rustic and casual."
Much like a dumpling, zongzi also speaks to the tradition of the home cook. "This is your mom's cooking, and usually made and eaten at home," says Chef Yan, but he allows that certain restaurants, mostly dim sum or congee establishments, also have zongzi on the menu. In fact, more families buy ready-made zongzi – frozen or fresh – than make it at home.
"We used to make them ourselves and give them out as gifts, but these days, the cost-benefit of making your own zongzi isn't measuring up," says Mr. Fung.
The Judgment
In his Hong Kong Din Tai Fung restaurant, Chef Jacky Tsai has taken zongzi preparation to a science. His savory version (filled with 70 grams of tender prime pork belly that boasts an exact ratio of 30% fat to 70% lean meat) measures 12-centimeters long and weighs 165 to 175 grams. When the zongzi, boiled for 1½ to 2½ hours, hits the customer's table, it must retain an internal temperature of 75 degrees Celsius. (Restaurant staff members test each one with a thermometer.)
For the average zongzi lover, however, taste is all that matters.
Mr. Fung's weakness is for the glistening globule of fat. "It's like a nugget of treasure that you unearth in the center. The fattier the better," he says, adding that the perfect texture of rice is "QQ," a popular Taiwanese expression for chewy or al dente.
Ms. Dunlop agrees: "When (the rice) is cooked perfectly, moist and not mushy, it really hits the spot."
Chef Yan prefers a more innovative approach to this old-time favorite. "I add chocolate to my sweet zongzi and serve it up with different sauces, such as coconut milk, mango or ginger-flavored syrups. Why not make it more creative?"
The Source
As a hub for immigrants from all parts of China, as well as Taiwan, Hong Kong is an easy place to sample different kinds of zongzi.
Chiu Chow Garden
The restaurant serves zongzi only during the weeks surrounding Dragon Boat festival. Some loyal customers prepay for their zongzi orders up to a month in advance and pick them up fresh through the festival week.
B/F Jardine House, 1 Connaught Place, Central ( 852- 2525-8246); Cantonese-style zongzi (rice with roast goose, pork, and salted duck egg yolk), US$10.20 each; Zhejiang-style zongzi (rice with pork and mushroom), US$11.60 for two; Beijing-style zongzi (purple rice filled with red beans), US$7.75 each.
Din Tai Fung
Zongzi is on the menu year-round at this Taiwanese restaurant chain, which serves the Hunan, or xian rou zong, a marinated-pork version and one filled with red-bean paste. It doesn't serve the Taiwanese-style zongzi.
Shop 120 & Restaurant C, 3/F Silvercord, 30 Canton Rd., Tsim Sha Tsui ( 852-2730-6928). Pork zongzi, US$4.15 each; red-bean zongzi, US$3.60 each.
Yan Toh Heen
Chef Lau Yiu Fai makes healthy, upscale versions that are available through the Dragon Boat festival weekend: abalone for a savory zongzi and organic apple for a sweet.
Hotel Intercontinental Hong Kong, 18 Salisbury Rd., Tsim Sha Tsui ( 852-2313- 2323). Abalone zongzi, US$19 each; organic apple and black glutinous rice zongzi, US$11.35 each (discounts apply for bulk orders).
Lao San Yang
This old-time retail shop, stacked floor-to-ceiling with canisters of dried Chinese herbs, offers zongzi year-round. During the month of Dragon Boat Festival, 20 different kinds are available. Choose your favorite based on the type of glutinous rice (purple, white or lye-treated), filling (duck egg yolk, pork, red bean or plain), and shape (long cylindrical Zhejiang-style and pyramid-shaped Cantonese-style).
G/F, 27B Lee Garden Rd., Causeway Bay, Hong Kong ( 852-2890-2534). From 78 U.S. cents (unfilled plain glutinous rice) to US$3.10 (pork with egg yolk in purple rice).
source: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124332828908753915.html