Free Every Grain of Rice: Simple Chinese Home Cooking by Fuchsia Dunlop Page B

section of fresh young lotus root (about 7 oz/200g)
1 tsp finely chopped ginger
2½ tsp clear rice vinegar
1 tsp sugar
A few small horse-ear (diagonal) slices of red chilli or bell pepper, for color
1 spring onion, green part only, sliced diagonally
1 tsp sesame oil
Salt, to taste
    Soak the dried shrimp (if using) and the wood ears, separately, in hot water from the kettle for at least 30 minutes.
    Bring a panful of water to a boil. Break the lotus root into segments and use a potato peeler to peel them. Trim off the ends of each segment and slice thinly and evenly: each slice will have a beautiful pattern of holes.
    Blanch the lotus root slices in the boiling water for a minute or two; they will remain crisp. (Make sure you blanch them soon after cutting, or the slices will begin to discolor.) Refresh in cold water and drain well.
    Drain the wood ears and the shrimp (if using). Tear the wood ears into small pieces.
    Combine all the ingredients together in a bowl and mix well.

GREEN SOY BEANS, SERVED IN THE POD
MAO DOU 毛豆
    Young green soy beans, served in the pod, have become popular in Japanese restaurants in the West, which is why they are often known by their Japanese name, edamame. They are also a favorite snack in Sichuan, where they might be offered with beer, alongside salted duck eggs, peanuts and aromatic cold meats. In Chinese, they are known as mao dou , “hairy beans,” because of the furry skins of their pods.
Salt
One ½ oz (20g) piece of ginger, unpeeled
A few pinches of whole Sichuan pepper
About 11 oz (300g) frozen soy beans in their pods
    Bring a panful of water to a boil and add salt. Crush the ginger slightly with the flat of a cleaver blade or a rolling pin and add to the pan with the Sichuan pepper and the beans.
    Return to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for about five minutes. Drain well and serve at room temperature.
    Invite your guests to squeeze the beans from the pods and eat them. The furry pods should be discarded.

TOFU
    The Chinese have, throughout history, shown a remarkable preference for selecting and cultivating the most nutritious food plants available to them. The soy bean, which has been grown in China for more than three millennia, is richer in protein than any other plant food. It contains all the amino acids essential for human health, in the right proportions. Along with rice and leafy greens, it is one of the cornerstones of the largely vegetarian traditional diet. Young green soy beans are eaten fresh, as a vegetable, but far more important are the dried beans, which are transformed through ancient technologies into fermented seasonings and tofu.
    Tofu is formed by soaking dried soy beans in water, grinding them with fresh water to give soy milk, straining out the solid residue of the beans, then heating the milk and adding a coagulant to set the curds. The set curds may be eaten as they are, or pressed to rid them of excess water and make them firmer. Tofu-making is a process that has been known in China since at least the tenth century AD, although legend traces its invention back further, to the second century king, Liu An.
    Some Westerners still seem to think of tofu as some sackcloth-and-ashes sustenance for vegans, and a sad substitute for meat. In China, however, it is one of the most ubiquitous foodstuffs and wonderful when you acquire a taste for it. In its most basic form it may be plain, but then so is ricotta cheese; tofu is so gentle and innocent, so richly nutritious, so kind to earth and conscience. And of course, as a vehicle for flavor, it’s amazing. No one could accuse a Sichuanese Pock-marked Old Woman’s Tofu of being insipid; in my experience even avid meat-eaters enjoy it. And who could resist the juicy charms of a Cantonese Pipa Tofu? (You’ll find both recipes in this chapter.)
    Plain tofu is only one of the myriad forms of this shape-shifting food. The unpressed curd, known as “silken” tofu or bean “flower,” has the delightful,