Confessions of a Foodie @JenJChow

LUCY BURDETTE: Today's guest is a woman after my own heart. I can totally get choosing a home according to the restaurants nearby! And she has a very fun new release out called Mimi Lee Reads Between the Lines. Welcome Jennifer!

JENNIFER CHOW: Confession: I’m a foodie at heart. When we moved to our current home, I told friends that one of the deciding factors was its proximity to an amazing Malaysian restaurant. (I was only half-joking.)

Food has always been a big part of my life. By custom, Chinese people serve meals on all major occasions, particularly at the saddest and happiest of times. My own wedding reception featured a ten-course banquet. A funeral will certainly involve a wake meal. Even post-death, when we honor the deceased, relatives will traditionally bring food offerings. (These culinary treats often reflect the favorite dishes of the dearly departed.) 

Tradition alone didn’t bind me to food, though. Growing up, my family owned a Chinese restaurant. A buffet, it served an interesting fusion of food: cold pickled vegetables, fried chicken, and Chinese barbecue spareribs. One appetizer/dessert we offered were honey twists: fried wonton wrappers drizzled in a syrupy glaze. (I once brought a tray of these sweets to school to celebrate my birthday.)

Food also connects me to my specific ethnicity. My dad was born and raised in Malaysia, though he has Chinese roots (just like the mom of my main character). As a kid, I loved it when he made his special curry chicken; even today, I still can’t replicate that delicious savory and spicy sauce. A lot of Malaysian dishes actually ratchet up the spice level. To his chagrin, my dad’s heat tolerance didn’t pass on to me. I’ve never, though, turned down an offering of yummy roti canai flatbread or steaming teh tarik, hand-pulled milk tea. 

 

Dim sum, when translated, literally means to “touch the heart.” In the same way, food and culture are emotionally interwoven for me. I feel very lucky to have such a scrumptious way to enjoy my heritage. 

How does food play a role in your life or in your identity?

Bio:

Jennifer J. Chow writes A Sassy Cat Mystery series (Berkley/Penguin Random House) and the Winston Wong Cozy Mysteries under J.J. Chow. She’s active in Sisters in Crime and Crime Writers of Color.

 

Connect with her online at www.jenniferjchow.com and on social media @jenjchow.

About MIMI LEE READS BETWEEN THE LINES: 

When a local teacher is found dead, LA’s newest pet groomer Mimi Lee finds herself in a pawful predicament—with her younger sister’s livelihood on the line.

Mimi Lee is on top of the world. She has a thriving pet grooming business, the sweetest boyfriend, and a talking cat to boot. When she arrives at the elementary school where her sister Alice works, she's expecting a fun girls' night out—but instead finds a teacher slumped over in her car, dead.

Alice was the last one to see Helen Reed, which instantly marks her as the prime suspect. Unable to sit quietly and let the authorities walk all over her sister, Mimi starts snooping and talks to Helen’s closest contacts, including one jumpy principal, a two-faced fiancé, and three sketchy teachers. With the help of her sassy but savvy cat, Marshmallow, and a cute kitten named Nimbus, the clock’s ticking for Mimi to get to the bottom of yet another case before her sister gets schooled.  

Delectably Disgusting: Why I Love 1900s Cuisine

RHYS BOWEN: Jennifer Kincheloe and I met for the first time when we were both nominees for the historical award at Left Coast Crime and I was delighted to meet her heroine, Anna Blanc, who is a West Coast version of my own Molly Murphy. I was happy to blurb her second book,, The Woman in the Camphor Trunk and equally pleased to host her here today.

JENNIFER KINCHELOE: Thank you, Rhys!

I adore putting historic, horrid-sounding food in my books and making my characters slurp it down. In THE SECRET LIFE OF ANNA BLANC, the characters enjoyed “pink soup with marrow balls,” “wine and tapioca soup,” and “pork cake.” It sounds weird, but this California cuisine is as LA as Anna Blanc. It came straight from the 1905 Los Angeles Times Cookbook, right next to the enchiladas.

Here’s a dinner menu I got from a California 1909 newspaper—something the Blanc’s cook would have prepared for Anna before her wealthy father disowned her:

Oysters on the Half Shell

(Nice)

Cream of Potato Soup

(Yum)

Cod Steaks with White Sauce

(Yes please)

Lamb Chops, Broiled

(I’m full now, but I’ll take a doggy bag)

Stewed Celery and Fried Potatoes

(Mixed together, or . . .?)

Mayonnaise of Lettuce and Grape Fruit

(WTF)

Wine Jelly with Whipped Cream

(Maybe, if it’s alcoholic)

Don’t ask me what “mayonnaise of lettuce” is. I think history has mercifully forgotten.

In my new novel, THE WOMAN IN THE CAMPHOR TRUNK, Anna Blanc returns to solve a murder in Chinatown while facing severe nutritional challenges. Her rich father has tossed her out on her ear, and the girl can’t boil water. Mind you, this was before YouTube videos and, back then, cookbooks were for people who could already cook.

No more mayonnaise of lettuce for Anna. She lives off canned kippers and Cracker Jacks. And while she’s fighting crime in Chinatown, she gazes longingly through the windows of the local chop suey joint.

Chop suey (pronounced "shap sui," in Cantonese) came to the US with Chinese immigrants seeking their fortune in gold country in the 1870s. It was a peasant stew made of chopped bean sprouts, cabbage, gizzards, liver, lungs, pig’s tripe, dragon fish, shrimp, pork, chicken, or whatever else they had on hand. Reportedly, it was good. By the 1900s non-Chinese customers were eating chop suey in Chinese restaurants, which adapted the dish to their new customers’ tastes. Chop suey made its way into the home kitchens of white America and morphed into something unrecognizable.

In celebration of the new book, I thought I’d share a 1909 recipe for chop suey from The San Francisco Call newspaper. It’s not exactly authentic, but it’s better than most I’ve encountered. My white great grandmother would have made “chop suey” from tomato sauce and pasta. (Don’t be smug. Yours probably would have too, unless you’re Chinese American)

The real recipe awaits you below. Note: Anna could not actually cook this.

Here’s more about THE WOMAN IN THE CAMPHOR TRUNK, coming to bookstores November 14^th:

Los Angeles, 1908. In Chinatown, the most dangerous beat in Los Angeles, police matron Anna Blanc and her former sweetheart, Detective Joe Singer, discover the body of a white missionary woman, stuffed in a trunk in the apartment of her Chinese lover. Her lover has fled. If news gets out that a white woman was murdered in Chinatown, there will be a violent backlash against the Chinese. Joe and Anna plan to solve the crime quietly and keep the death a secret. So does good-looking Mr. Jones, a prominent Chinese leader who has mixed feelings about helping the LAPD and about Anna. 
     
Meanwhile, the Hop Sing tong has kidnapped two slave girls from the Bing Kong tong, fueling existing tensions. They are poised on the verge of a bloody tong war that would put all Chinatown residents in danger. 
     
Joe orders Anna out of Chinatown to keep her safe, but to atone for her own family's sins, Anna must stay to solve the crime before news of the murder is leaked and Chinatown explodes.

White People Chop Suey Circa 1909

For guy chop suey to serve six persons, you will need one young chicken, cut in pieces utilizing all the giblets, a pound of water chestnuts, two pounds of bean sprouts (if you can't get these you may use French peas, tender string beans or, asparagus tips), a little sliced celery, sliced onions. The water chestnuts should be shaved thin. Have a kettle with olive oil or peanut oil; about six tablespoonfuls, and sauté in this the chicken, onion, celery, and chestnuts. When almost tender, add the bean sprouts, which, must not cook too long. If you use string beans instead, chop very fine and sauté with the other vegetables. Stir frequently to prevent burning, adding if necessary a half cup of boiling water. When tender I drain of any liquor remaining. Add a little flour to thicken and salt to taste. At the very last, add a teaspoonful of the Chinese condiment, brown and piquant, known as “see yu,” which corresponds to our Worcestershire sauce, and pour over the chop suey. Stir together and serve with rice.

Message me on Facebook and let me know me how yours turned out! If you’d like your very own copy of The 1905 Los Angeles Times Cookbook, just sign up for my mailing list at www.jenniferkincheloe.com.

A Culinary Tour of China with Nicole Mones

RHYS: Nobody knows China better than Nicole Mones,and nobody writes about it better either. We were speakers several years ago at the same conference and I was fascinated by her story of being the first Western woman to do business in Chairman Mao's China. So I read one of her  books, was blown away and gobbled up the others. The Last Chinese Chef, part mystery, part culinary journey is my favorite so far. My only complaint--she doesn't write fast enough. But now I'm smiling again because she has a new book out, Night in Shanghai. I met her a couple of weeks ago at another literary event and snagged her for Jungle Reds.

So take it away, Nicole:

     When my friend Nancy and I decided to spend a month in China this fall, we had only one agenda:  review restaurants. With my new historical novel Night in Shanghai coming out, it was time to update my restaurant listings in the big Chinese cities—and that meant photos and bon mots for two meals a day. A tough job, but someone’s got to do it, because I don’t want anybody to waste a meal, or even a calorie, on their China trip. This being Nancy’s first trip to China, we did do a little sightseeing… after which we retired to the hotel every late afternoon, to rest and read novels and gird our loins before dinner. That is the right of all women d’un certain age.  Finally, this being Nancy’s first trip to China, we devoted the rest of each day to sightseeing—at least, after dawdling over coffee and gossiping for half the morning.

Little Chicken Balls”

    We hit some fine restaurants on this trip. In Shanghai, we followed the critics to the Michelin-starred Xin Dau Ji, where phenomenally fresh, plump, pink prawn dumplings were followed by a dish of boneless chicken dusted with Sichuan peppercorn powder and presented atop crunchy fried greens—the final creation adorably called ‘little chicken balls’ in Chinese. Very good, but not amazing.  Beijing was also full of restaurants striving to be high-end, including those specializing in exquisite vegan “artifice” dishes (skewered mushrooms masquerading as lamb; a shaped, deep-fried puree of potato masquerading as a carrot; a whole separate menu for rare teas). Ho hum.

 

 Zuo Lin You She in Beijing

 

    What we found ourselves dreaming of, and going back to, was simple, street-level food. In Beijing, we ignored our long list of targets in favor of a repeat visit to Zuo Lin You She, a dive-y place specializing in long, cigar-shaped, pan-fried dumplings with all manner of savory fillings… lamb with onions, beef with coriander, pork with chives, tofu with mustard greens, and dozens more we never got to.  They also had a delicious shredded-veggie cold plate called, improbably, ‘hot pickled mustard tuber’. In the Yunnan tourist town of Lijiang, in southwest China, near the border with Myanmar, we went back again and again to a street stall that served the most marvelous eggplants, butterflied, griddled to perfection, and covered with minced pork and peppers… a complete and perfect meal. We had it four times.  We hated to even leave town.

    But the single best meal we had last fall was north of there, up on the Tibetan Plateau, in Zhongdian’s “old town” of Dukezong—an ancient, labyrinthine quarter of narrow, hilly, cobbled lanes, lined by old, wood-frame Tibetan houses. It was my second visit to Dukezong, and I knew it was not a cuisine destination, except for two things, yak and wild mushrooms. The mushrooms we found, sautéed to a crispy tangle and sprinkled with salt, but delicious yak was harder.

   

Finally a local woman pointed us up to a small café at the top of a steep, twisting lane, which she said captured “local flavor”. When we walked in, pulling off our gloves, the mother and her two sons jumped up to prepare an unforgettable yak soup…  rich broth deep with the grassy, peppery flavor of yak, thickened with lean ground meat, chunky vegetables, and small, chewy, hand-formed orecchiette-style noodles.  We ate the entire tureen in awe, while Mom smiled her approval.

That soup is not the only reason I’m glad to have stopped for three days in Dukezong. Some weeks after left, on January 11, a heater in a small guesthouse started a fire, which quickly spread. In lanes to narrow for fire trucks, people passed buckets of water from hand to hand, to no avail. It took ten hours for Dukezong, which had stood for 1300 years, to burn to the ground.

I bet it will be rebuilt anew, but in charming old style, a toy village that at least provides employment and economic opportunity for local people. And because the toy town will be new, and “nice,” with internet and bars and entertainment, Chinese tourists will be drawn to it in droves, Dukezong people will end up making more money, and with that, they will let go of all that was lost.

It’s so China.

Nicole Mones is the acclaimed author of four novels about China. Her latest, NIGHT IN SHANGHAI , is  the first novel based on the true experiences of African American musicians in the Chinese jazz age—and what happened when World War II exploded around them It's been called "Historical Fiction at its Finest" by NPR. AND... Nicole will give away an autographed copy to her favorite comment of the day.