I come from a family with varied cultural influences. My mom's side of the family is ethnically Chinese, but came to the U.S. from Panama (having immigrated there from China). Furthermore, to add to the mix, by marriage we have had Japanese Americans from Hawaii and Peruvians join the family . So the menu at a typical family gathering might involve dishes as varied as beef and broccoli, sushi, arroz con pollo, or Hawaiian shaved ice. Often a single meal offers a culinary trip around the world (imagine empanadas as an appetizer, followed by a first course of sashimi, then a spread of Chinese homestyle dishes).
So when I headed up to my mom's house for a pre-Independence Day family shindig, I had no idea what to expect for dinner. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the menu would include my grandmother's special fish soup. Traditionally we eat this soup only on New Year's day, because grandma only would get motivated to make the somewhat elaborate recipe once per year, but in recent years my mom and others in the family have learned how to make the dish, and have been willing to make it at other times. As soon as lunch was cleared away, my mom and aunts started fretting about needing to put the soup on for dinner. As my cousin wryly noted, "In this family, we're either eating, or preparing to eat." The fact that we could get so excited about eating hot soup in July is a testament to its popularity in our family.
The main ingredient in grandma's recipe is fish intestine (technically an air bladder), called yu piao in Mandarin. This item is considered a delicacy in Chinese cuisine, and a high quality specimen can run hundreds of dollars for a piece measuring less than a foot in length. We use a medium grade, which comes in smaller pieces costing an order of magnitude less. Finding the type we like at a reasonable price is a bit of a challenge, but I've discovered a reliable source in San Francisco's Chinatown called Pacific Seafood Trading Company (there are multiple locations, but I prefer the one at 1143 Stockton Street).
The yu piao starts out as an apparently inedible dried hunk resembling a yellowed piece of hard plastic. It is transformed into a tasty treat via a process of baking, soaking, slicing, re-soaking, and finally joining a rich broth stocked with abalone and chicken meat along with sliced water chestnuts, cubed melon, and carrot florets. Other items used to enrich the broth, but not eaten as part of the dish, are pig's feet, pork hock, preserved red plums, ginger, and pickled turnip (chong cai). The fish intestine ends up spongy yet tender, and soaks up the flavorful broth. Believe me, it tastes better than it sounds.
BTW, this dish is actually available in restaurants, often translated as "fish maw soup," but is typically a much simpler preparation (broth less intense, no abalone, etc.) which offers only small shreds of yu piao. But then, what can you expect for $8?
Tom,
I'm going to have to take your word on this one because it doesn't sound too apetizing :)
Posted by: Dan Buell | July 20, 2006 at 09:06 PM