Vegetarian Chinese recipes

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Xiaocong ban doufuCold tofu with spring onion

Xiaocong ban doufu is a northern Chinese home dish, especially popular in Beijing and Shandong on hot summer evenings, so simple that it has given Chinese a proverb about being clear as 'green onion and white tofu'. Soft tofu is blanched, cooled, cut into cubes and tossed with a heap of chopped spring onion, sesame oil and a little salt, so it is cool, silky and fresh. Serve it beside stir-fried vegetables and a little rice or a wholewheat bun. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 120 kcal and 3 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is stirring hard so the tofu breaks into crumbs; fold it gently with a spoon. Chef's tip: blanch the tofu in salted water for a minute, which firms it up and takes away the raw beany taste.

10 min

Chinese Salads

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Laohu caiTiger salad

Laohu cai, 'tiger salad', is the fierce raw salad of China's north-east, served in Shenyang and Harbin homes and restaurants alongside dumplings, grilled skewers and heavy stews. Long green chillies, cucumber, coriander and spring onion are cut into thin strips and dressed with rice vinegar, a little soy and sesame oil, so it is hot, crunchy and very fresh. Serve it next to protein dishes as a crisp, low-starch side. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 50 kcal and 5 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is dressing it too early, so the cucumber weeps and the coriander goes limp; dress it just before eating. Chef's tip: choose a mix of mild and hot chillies so you control the heat and still get plenty of crunch.

10 min

Chinese Salads

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Suan la baicaiHot and sour cabbage

Hot-and-sour napa cabbage is a cheap, fast winter dish cooked in Sichuan home kitchens and right across northern China when cabbages are stacked outside every door. The thick white stems are stir-fried first over a fierce flame with dried chillies and Sichuan pepper, then the leaves go in, and a splash of black vinegar is sizzled round the edge of the wok for a sharp, smoky tang. Serve it with tofu or eggs and a small bowl of rice. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 80 kcal and 8 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is cooking over a low heat, which stews the cabbage in its own water; the wok must be very hot. A pinch of sugar is traditional; it is optional, and a sweetener can be used instead. Chef's tip: slice the stems on a sharp angle so they cook as fast as the leaves.

15 min

Chinese Sides

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Jicai doufu gengShepherd's purse and tofu soup

In Shanghai and Jiangsu, shepherd's purse (jicai) is picked from field edges in early spring, and this gentle, lightly thickened soup is one of the first dishes of the season at home and in Shanghainese restaurants. Finely chopped greens and small cubes of soft tofu are simmered in vegetable stock with a few shiitake, then thickened just enough to coat a spoon, giving a soothing, savoury soup with a fresh, grassy taste. Serve it as a starter or with a small bowl of rice. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 110 kcal and 7 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is adding too much starch, which makes it gluey; it should flow off the spoon. Spinach works if you can't find jicai. Chef's tip: blanch and squeeze the greens before chopping, which keeps the soup bright green instead of murky.

25 min

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Xiangchun chao jidanChinese toon scrambled eggs

For a few weeks each April in Shandong, Henan and Beijing, the red-tipped young shoots of the Chinese toon tree are sold in bundles at every market, and the first thing families make is this quick scramble for lunch or supper. The toon has a strong, garlicky, almost oniony perfume that turns sweet and nutty once cooked with egg. It is eaten with rice, congee or steamed buns. Suitable as part of a balanced diet, it is high in protein and very low in starch: about 190 kcal and 3 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is skipping the blanch: raw toon tastes harsh and is always scalded first. Chef's tip: chop the toon very finely and beat it into the egg before cooking, so every mouthful carries the scent.

15 min

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Ju hua chaChrysanthemum tea

Ju hua cha is chrysanthemum tea, a summer staple in Hangzhou, where the famous small white Hang bai ju flowers grow, and across Guangdong and Hong Kong, where it is poured at dim sum and sold chilled in street-side stalls. Dried flowers open in hot water into a pale golden, honey-scented infusion with a gentle bitterness. It is drunk plain here: no salt and no sugar, so about 0.0 g salt per cup. The usual mistake is using boiling water, which turns it harsh; let the kettle rest for a minute first. A few goji berries add colour and a little natural sweetness. Chef's tip: rinse the dried flowers quickly in warm water first to wash off dust and wake up their fragrance.

7 min

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Suanmeitang (sour plum drink)

Old Beijing sold suanmeitang from brass bowls at street corners in summer, chilled with blocks of river ice, and the Qing court drank a version as a cooler. Today it comes in big jugs at copper-pot hotpot restaurants, where its sourness cuts through mutton and sesame sauce; families brew a pot every few days all summer. Smoked wumei plums give a deep, almost bacon-like smokiness, hawthorn adds fruity acid, licorice softens the edges and rock sugar rounds everything off, with dried osmanthus on top for a honeyed scent. It should be dark ruby, clear and refreshing, tart first and sweet after. The common mistake is boiling it hard for hours: the plum stones and hawthorn seeds release bitterness and the brew turns muddy. Simmer gently, strain early and chill fast. It is ready when the plums have collapsed and the liquid tastes clearly sour-sweet with a smoky finish. Licorice root is traditionally used in small amounts; people with high blood pressure, heart or kidney problems, or who are pregnant should keep the licorice out or check with a doctor. Chef's tip: add the osmanthus only after the heat is off, or its perfume vanishes.

70 min

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Juhua cha (chrysanthemum tea)

The small white hangbaiju flowers grown around Tongxiang, near Hangzhou, are picked in November, steamed and dried, and they end up in teapots all over China. Families brew them after a rich dinner, through the dry autumn, and iced in summer; dim sum houses in the south offer them as a caffeine-free choice, often mixed with pu-erh. The tea is pale gold, lightly floral with a faint bitterness like chamomile, softened by a little rock sugar and a few goji berries that turn plump and red in the pot. The common mistake is pouring boiling water straight onto the flowers and leaving them for twenty minutes; the tea turns brownish and bitter. Water just off the boil, around 90 °C, and a short steep keep it clear and sweet. It is ready when the flowers have opened like little daisies, the colour is light amber and the smell is honey-like. You can top up the pot two or three times. If you are allergic to ragweed, daisies or marigolds, try a small cup first or skip it, as chrysanthemum belongs to the same family. Chef's tip: for iced juhua cha, brew it double strength and pour it straight over a glass full of ice so it does not taste watery.

10 min

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Hongzao guiyuan cha (red date and longan tea)

Across southern China, from Fujian to Guangdong, a pot of red dates and dried longan is what mothers and grandmothers put on the stove when the weather turns cold, and it is the classic drink brought to new mothers during zuo yuezi, the month of rest after childbirth. It is also sipped through the winter in the afternoon, or offered to visitors at Lunar New Year because the red dates promise sweetness ahead. The tea is amber-brown, naturally sweet and fruity, with a caramel, smoky depth from the longan and a gentle warmth if you add ginger. The common mistake is simmering whole dates: their skins stay tight and the tea tastes thin. Slit or tear each date so the flesh can give up its sweetness, then simmer slowly. It is ready when the dates are puffed and soft, the longan has swollen and the liquid is the colour of weak tea and tastes of toffee. It is traditionally drunk for comfort and warmth, not as a medicine; it is high in natural sugar, so go easy if you watch your blood sugar, and goji can interact with blood-thinning medicines, so check with a doctor if you take them. Chef's tip: eat the softened fruit from the bottom of the cup with a spoon; nothing is wasted.

40 min

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Douzhi (fermented mung bean drink)

Douzhi is the breakfast that divides Beijing. It is the sour liquid left over when mung beans are ground and their starch settles out to make noodles and jelly; left to ferment for a day or two, the grey-green whey turns tangy, a little cheesy and sulphurous. Old Beijingers drink it piping hot at dawn in hutong shops around Qianmen and Huguosi, with a dish of finely shredded salty pickle dressed in chilli oil and crisp fried dough rings (jiaoquan) from the bakery. First-timers often say it smells like stale socks; regulars say it tastes like home. The texture is thin and slightly creamy, the flavour sour, a little bitter and savoury. The common mistake is boiling the soured starch hard: it separates into grey water and sludge. Bring it up slowly, stirring, and take it off as soon as it froths. The ferment makes only a trace of alcohol, well under 1%. Ferment at 20–25 °C; normal signs are fine bubbles, a sour, yogurt-like smell and a grey colour. Discard it if you see fuzzy mould, pink or black patches, a slimy texture or a putrid smell. Chef's tip: save 100 ml of a good batch to start the next one, as Beijing workshops do.

50 min

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Zha caiPickled mustard stem

Every winter along the Yangtze at Fuling, below Chongqing, the knobbly stem tubers of a mustard plant are strung on bamboo racks to dry in the river wind, then salted, pressed and cured in great pottery jars. That is zha cai, literally pressed vegetable, and a little dish of its shreds sits beside a bowl of rice congee at breakfast across China, or gets tossed into pork noodle soup. The taste is salty, sour-savoury and gently numbing from Sichuan pepper, with a dense, squeaky crunch. Fresh zha cai tubers are rare abroad; kohlrabi has the same texture and works very well. Common mistake: not pressing out enough water between the two saltings, which leaves it limp and diluted. It is ready after about 2 weeks in the fridge, when the pieces have turned translucent at the edges and taste rounded rather than raw. Salt here is high, about 12% of the dried weight in total, so it keeps 3 months in the fridge with a clean dry spoon; discard if fuzzy mould, slime or a rotten smell appears. Chef's tip: soak slices for 10 minutes before cooking if you find them too salty; that is how Chongqing cooks do it.

65 min

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Dongbei suan caiFermented napa cabbage

In Harbin, Changchun and Shenyang, late October is when families buy napa cabbage by the cartload, scald it, and pack it head to tail into big glazed crocks on the balcony, weighed down with a smooth river stone. A month later, as winter sets in, it has become suan cai: pale, almost translucent leaves with a clean, lactic sourness and a soft crunch at the rib. It is shredded into suan cai bai rou (sour cabbage with pork belly), stuffed into dumplings for Spring Festival and simmered in hot pots through the long winter. Common mistake: fermenting somewhere warm; above about 20 °C the cabbage softens and can go slimy, so use the coolest spot you have. Normal signs are fine bubbles, a cloudy brine and a sharp sour smell; a flat white film (kahm yeast) can be skimmed off. Fuzzy coloured mould, pink or black patches, or a putrid smell mean discard the lot. Do not eat it before 3 weeks: it is ready when the leaves are uniformly pale yellow-green and taste fully sour. Then keep it in the brine in the fridge for 2 months. Chef's tip: rinse and squeeze the shreds before cooking to soften the sourness.

40 min

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Yibin ya caiCured mustard stem

Yibin, where the Min river meets the Yangtze in southern Sichuan, has cured ya cai since the Qing dynasty, and its dark, sweet-salty shreds are what give dan dan mian, gan bian si ji dou (dry-fried green beans) and the steamed pork dish shao bai their deep savoury note. The stems of a leafy mustard are shredded, wind-dried, salted twice, then mixed with a syrup of brown sugar and spices and cured in sealed jars until almost black. The texture is chewy-tender, the taste malty, sweet, salty and warmly spiced with star anise and Sichuan pepper. Common mistake: adding the syrup while it is hot or while the shreds are still wet, which dilutes the cure and invites spoilage; both must be cold and the shreds well dried. It is ready when the shreds are uniformly dark brown and smell of molasses and anise, after 4–6 weeks in the fridge. This cure is high in salt and sugar, so it keeps 6 months refrigerated with a dry spoon; discard if mould, slime or a sour, rotten smell appears. Chef's tip: mustard greens with thick stalks (gai choy) are the best stand-in abroad; save the leaves for soup.

80 min

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DouchiFermented black beans

Yangjiang in western Guangdong and Liuyang in Hunan are the two great douchi towns, and both traditionally make their fermented black beans in the dry season, when beans can be moulded indoors and dried in the sun without spoiling. Cooked black soybeans are covered until a yellow-green koji mould grows over them, then washed, salted, packed and fermented for weeks before drying. The result is wrinkled, soft-chewy beans with an intense salty, savoury, almost chocolate-dark flavour. A spoonful steamed with spare ribs or a whole fish, stir-fried with bitter melon or pounded into Hunan's chilli dishes seasons the whole plate. At home, buying koji spores (Aspergillus oryzae) is far more reliable than waiting for wild moulds. Common mistake: letting the beans sit wet or warm in a sealed container during the moulding stage; they must breathe at 28–32 °C. Good koji smells sweet and chestnut-like; discard any batch with black, pink or bright coloured mould, slime or a rotten smell. Keep the salt as given. It is ready when the beans are dark, wrinkled and dry outside but supple within. Store dried douchi in the fridge for 1 year. Chef's tip: rinse and lightly crush the beans before cooking.

180 min

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Duo jiaoFermented chopped chillies

In late summer, Hunan kitchens ring with the thud of two cleavers chopping heaps of red chillies, the sound of duo jiao (chopped chilli) being made for the year. Chillies, garlic and ginger are chopped coarse, salted heavily and packed into jars to ferment for about a week, until the heat turns rounder, slightly sour and fruity. Spread thickly over steamed fish fillets, stirred into stir-fried pork or eggs, or spooned over steamed taro, it brings colour as much as fire. Common mistake: chopping it to a smooth paste in a blender; the texture should be rough, pieces the size of rice grains, so pulse briefly or use a knife. Normal ferment signs are a few bubbles, a sour smell and a little liquid rising; a fuzzy coloured mould or a rotten smell means discard. It is ready after 5–7 days at cool room temperature, when it tastes tangy rather than raw. Because it contains garlic and ginger and is a low-sugar paste, it then lives in the fridge for up to 3 months, or in the freezer for a year. Chef's tip: wear gloves and open a window; a kilo of chopped chillies is fierce.

30 min

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Tianjin dongcaiPreserved napa cabbage

Tianjin's 'winter vegetable' is made exactly when the name says: in November and December, when napa cabbage is cheap and the northern air is dry and near freezing. The cabbage is diced, salted, dried until it shrinks to a fraction of its weight, then pounded with garlic and salt and packed into earthenware jars to cure through the cold months. It turns golden-brown, chewy and intensely savoury, with a mellow garlic sweetness rather than raw bite. Southern Chinese and Teochew cooks prize it as much as northerners: a teaspoon goes into wonton broth, beef ball soup, steamed pork patties and fish porridge. Common mistake: not drying the cabbage enough; it should lose about 80% of its weight and feel like soft leather, or the cure stays wet and spoils. Since this mix holds fresh garlic and is not acidic, cure it in the fridge, which mimics Tianjin's frozen balconies. It is ready after 3–4 weeks, when the colour has turned amber and the garlic smells sweet and toasty. Keep in the fridge up to 6 months with a dry spoon; discard if mould, slime or a rotten smell appears. Chef's tip: rinse briefly before using; it is very salty and a little goes a long way.

45 min

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Suan sunFermented bamboo shoots

In Liuzhou in Guangxi, spring and early summer bring fresh bamboo shoots, and every household fills big jars with sliced shoots in water to sour. The smell of suan sun is legendary, sour, funky and a little like strong cheese, but cooked into a bowl of luosifen (river-snail rice noodle soup), stir-fried with pork and chilli, or simmered with duck, it turns into a deep, savoury tang that locals crave. The slices stay crisp. Fresh shoots contain natural compounds that release cyanide, so suan sun is always cooked before eating: boil it for at least 10 minutes in your dish, and never eat it raw from the jar. Canned or vacuum-packed cooked shoots will not sour on their own; use fresh shoots, or add a little brine from an earlier ferment. Common mistake: letting slices float above the brine, where they go soft and mouldy; keep everything submerged under a weight. Normal: cloudy brine, bubbles, a sharp sour, funky smell, and a flat white film you can skim. Bad: fuzzy coloured mould, pink or black slime, or a rotten-egg, putrid smell; discard. It is ready after 2–3 weeks, when it tastes clearly sour. Chef's tip: ferment it in a shed; the smell travels.

30 min

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Xue caiPickled mustard greens

In Ningbo and the river towns of Zhejiang, xue li hong, a feathery potherb mustard, is harvested in early spring and again in late autumn, and much of it is rubbed with salt and pressed into jars. A couple of weeks later it is xue cai, olive green, crisp, salty and gently sour, with a clean mustard bitterness. Shanghainese and Ningbo cooks chop it into noodle soup with yellow croaker or shredded pork, stir-fry it with sliced rice cakes for Lunar New Year, or simmer it with edamame and tofu skin in summer. Abroad, use any young leafy mustard green or the leaves of gai choy. Common mistake: packing the leaves loosely; air pockets let mould grow, so press hard until brine rises over the top. Normal signs are a little cloudiness, small bubbles and a pleasant pickle smell; a flat white film can be skimmed off. Discard if you see fuzzy coloured mould, pink or black patches, or it smells rotten. It is ready after 2–3 weeks, when the leaves have turned from bright to olive green and taste sour. Then keep it in the fridge for 2 months. Chef's tip: squeeze and chop finely before cooking; a quick rinse tames the salt.

40 min

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Chai pohPreserved radish

Chaozhou and Shantou on the Guangdong coast dry chai poh in the clear, breezy weeks after the winter radish harvest, laying white strips across bamboo mats on every flat roof. Repeated rounds of salting and drying turn juicy daikon into golden, chewy strips that are salty, sweet and faintly funky, and the Teochew diaspora carried it to Singapore, Malaysia and Thailand. Diced and fried until crisp, it goes into chai poh neng (preserved radish omelette), chwee kueh topping, congee and stir-fried kway teow. This home version uses a little sugar for the sweet style. Common mistake: drying the strips too fast in a hot oven; the outside hardens while the inside stays wet and spoils. Low and slow keeps the texture chewy-supple. It is ready when the strips are amber, flexible and leathery, have lost about 80% of their weight and feel dry, not tacky. Store in a clean airtight jar in the fridge for up to 6 months; discard if mould, slime or a sour, rotten smell appears. Chef's tip: soak the chopped radish for 5 minutes and squeeze before frying, then fry with a pinch of sugar until it smells toasty.

45 min

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Pixian doubanjiangFermented broad bean chilli paste

Pixian, now part of greater Chengdu, has made doubanjiang since the 1600s: broad beans are moulded into a koji, chillies are chopped and salted in high summer, and the two are combined in huge open clay vats left in the courtyards to sun by day and breathe by night, stirred every morning for a year or more. The paste darkens from bright red to a glossy red-brown and becomes salty, savoury, deeply fruity and only moderately hot. Fried in oil until the oil turns red, it is the foundation of mapo tofu, twice-cooked pork and boiled fish in chilli oil. This home version takes about three months. Use koji spores for a clean bean ferment, and do not cut the salt: homemade bean pastes are low-acid, and the high salt (about 15%) is what makes them safe. Common mistake: sealing the jar airtight in the warm months; it needs air and daily stirring, so cover it with a cloth or loose lid. Normal: darkening colour, a winey-savoury smell, a little liquid. Discard if fuzzy mould spreads or grows coloured (green, black, pink) patches, or it smells putrid. It is ready when the paste is red-brown and tastes rounded, not raw. Chef's tip: fry it slowly in oil until it smells toasty.

105 min

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Hong suan tangFermented tomato sour soup base

In the Miao and Dong villages of Qiandongnan, south-east Guizhou, small wild 'hairy' tomatoes and red chillies ripen together in late summer, and every household fills tall jars with them to ferment into hong suan tang, the red sour base of the region's famous sour-soup fish and sour-soup beef hot pots. The fermented paste is bright scarlet, sharply sour, fruity and fiery, with a funk from the ferment that ordinary tomato never has. People say three days without sour and you walk unsteadily, and it goes into soups year round. Outside Guizhou, use cherry tomatoes, which have a similar high acidity. Common mistake: fermenting with too little salt or with wet produce, which goes mushy and off; dry everything first and weigh the salt. Normal signs: bubbles, a sour, wine-like fruity smell and liquid rising. Bad signs: fuzzy coloured mould, pink or black patches, or a rotten smell; discard. It is ready after 2–3 weeks, when it tastes clearly sour and the raw tomato taste has gone. Then keep it in the fridge for 3 months or freeze it. Chef's tip: fry a few spoonfuls in oil with ginger before adding stock; it turns a deeper red and smells richer.

60 min

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Chinese plum sauce

In Hong Kong and Guangzhou roast-meat shops, a small saucer of plum sauce comes with crisp roast goose and siu mei, and at home it is the dip for spring rolls at New Year and the glaze for vegetarian fried tofu or cha siu-style mushrooms. Cantonese suan mei jiang is fruitier and more sour than the gloopy bottled kind: ripe plums are simmered with sugar, rice vinegar, ginger and a little chilli until thick and glossy. Make it in late summer when dark plums are cheap. Common mistake: boiling it too thick; it sets further as it cools, so stop when it coats the back of a spoon and a drip on a cold plate wrinkles only slightly. Readiness cues: the plum skins have melted into the sauce, the colour is deep ruby and the taste balances sweet and sharp. This is a high-acid preserve: in the fridge it keeps 2 months, or water-bath process sealed jars for 20 minutes to keep them in a cupboard for a year (refrigerate once opened). Discard if you see mould, it fizzes, the lid bulges or leaks, or it smells fermented. Chef's tip: add 2 Chinese salted preserved plums, mashed, for the authentic salty-sour depth.

55 min

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Guihua jiangOsmanthus syrup

When the osmanthus trees around West Lake in Hangzhou and along the Li River in Guilin bloom in late September and October, the whole town smells of apricots, and families shake the tiny gold flowers onto sheets to preserve them. Guihua jiang, sweet osmanthus sauce, is the result: a loose, amber syrup thick with petals that is drizzled over glutinous rice cakes, sweet lotus-root stuffed with sticky rice, tangyuan in fermented-rice soup and plain congee through the Mid-Autumn Festival and all winter. It tastes floral, honeyed and faintly fruity, with a clean sugar sweetness and a soft, slippery petal texture. The flowers are salted briefly first, which takes away their green bitterness and helps them keep their colour. Common mistake: boiling the petals hard in the syrup, which turns them brown and flattens the perfume; add them only once the syrup is ready and let them barely bubble. It is ready when the syrup coats a spoon and the petals are evenly suspended rather than floating. Chef's tip: dried food-grade osmanthus from a Chinese grocer works well out of season; soak it for 10 minutes and use a third of the weight of fresh.

35 min

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Jiu cai hua jiangGarlic chive flower sauce

In late August the garlic chives of Hebei, Beijing and Inner Mongolia send up stiff stalks topped with white flower heads, and northern households grind them with salt into jiu cai hua jiang. A few days of fermentation turn the raw, oniony paste mellow and tangy, and by the first cold evenings it is stirred into the sesame-paste dip for shuan yangrou, Beijing's copper-pot lamb hot pot, alongside fermented tofu and chilli oil. It also lifts plain noodles, steamed buns and boiled dumplings. The taste is salty, garlicky and green, with a gentle sweetness from Asian pear and warmth from ginger; the texture is a loose, coarse purée. Pick the flowers when the buds are just opening, before seed pods form, or the paste turns bitter and gritty. Common mistake: using too little salt; under 8% the paste goes slimy instead of sour, so weigh it. It is ready when small bubbles rise, the colour dulls from bright to olive green and it smells pleasantly sour rather than raw. Chef's tip: a crisp apple works if you cannot find Asian pear; use slightly less, as it is sharper.

30 min

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Jing gao (Xi'an steamed sticky rice and date cake)

Before the shops of Xi'an's Muslim Quarter open, vendors on Beiyuanmen and Sajinqiao lift the lids of huge iron zeng pots and carve out jing gao, a dense breakfast of glutinous rice, red dates and kidney beans steamed so long that the dates melt into a jammy layer. It is scooped onto paper plates with a flat spade and eaten hot, often with a sprinkle of sugar, by workers on their way in. The home version steams in a heatproof bowl and needs time rather than skill. The rice turns glossy and chewy, the dates taste of toffee and the beans give a soft, earthy bite. Chef's tip: lay the dates as the bottom and top layers, because their sugar is what colours and flavours the rice as it steams.

240 min

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Zeng gao (Xi'an steamed rice cakes with jujube)

Walk the lanes of Huimin Jie in Xi'an in the late afternoon and you will see small round cakes steaming in stacked cups, then flipped out and speared onto bamboo sticks for children heading home from school. They are made from glutinous rice flour rubbed to a damp crumb, layered with sweet jujube paste and steamed until the crumb fuses into a soft, springy cake with a dark red stripe through the middle. They are lightly sweet, chewy and best eaten warm. Chef's tip: rub the flour with water until it just clumps when squeezed, then sieve it, because a light, airy crumb is what makes the cake tender.

60 min

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Huanggui shizi bing (Xi'an persimmon cakes)

Every autumn, when Lintong's soft persimmons ripen outside Xi'an, griddles across the Muslim Quarter fill with these orange cakes. The dough is little more than ripe persimmon pulp and flour, so it fries crisp and caramelised outside while staying chewy and sticky inside, and the filling of brown sugar, walnuts, sesame and dried osmanthus melts into a fragrant syrup. They are bought hot in a paper sleeve as an afternoon snack. They contain wheat and walnuts. Chef's tip: use persimmons so ripe they feel like a water balloon; firm ones make the dough taste furry and astringent.

60 min

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Tian shui mianSweet spiced soy noodles

Tian shui mian, "sweet water noodles", are a fixture of Chengdu's old snack houses around Wenshu Monastery, ordered at lunch in a small bowl alongside dumplings and wontons. The noodles are cut as thick as chopsticks, cooked chewy and served at room temperature, coated in thick spiced soy syrup, red chilli oil, pounded raw garlic and sesame: sweet first, then hot and garlicky. Chef's tip: simmer the sweet soy until syrupy; if it is thin it runs to the bottom of the bowl instead of clinging to the noodles.

45 min

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Ye er baSesame sticky rice dumplings

Ye er ba, "leaf cakes", come from Xinjin on Chengdu's southern edge and are sold all over the city in snack restaurants and teahouses, including the busy tea gardens of People's Park, at breakfast and through the afternoon. Each dumpling is wrapped in a leaf, which keeps it moist and adds a faint green fragrance as it steams; the skin is soft and stretchy, the filling a sweet, nutty black sesame paste. Traditional fillings use lard; this version uses coconut oil and is vegan. It contains sesame. Chef's tip: keep the dough as soft as an earlobe; dry dough cracks and the filling leaks out.

60 min

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San da paoGlutinous rice balls in soybean flour

On Jinli Ancient Street and in the Kuanzhai Xiangzi alleys, san da pao vendors draw a crowd by hurling balls of hot glutinous rice dough at a wooden board hung with brass plates: bang, bang, bang, the "three cannons" of the name, before the balls drop into a tray of roasted soybean flour. Served with dark brown sugar syrup and sesame, they are a soft, chewy, nutty afternoon snack. They contain soya and sesame. Glutinous rice is very sticky, so cut the balls small for children. Chef's tip: work the steamed dough while it is still hot; once it cools it stiffens and will not stretch.

45 min

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Mapo tofu with mushrooms

Mapo tofu was first served at a small eatery in north Chengdu in the late 1800s, and it is still on the table at almost every Sichuan family dinner: wobbly cubes of tofu in a glossy red sauce that is hot from chilli bean paste and tingling from Sichuan pepper. Restaurants make it with minced beef or pork; here finely chopped shiitake and chestnut mushrooms are fried until crisp-edged and dark, so they give the same savoury bite. Spoon it over plenty of steamed rice, which soaks up the oil. Chef's tip: grind the Sichuan pepper fresh and scatter it on at the very end; ground ahead of time it loses its buzz.

25 min

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Tianjin fried sticky rice cakes

These are one of Tianjin's three famous snacks, named after Erduoyan ('ear hole') Lane, where the original shop opened over a hundred years ago. The dough is soft, slightly fermented glutinous rice, filled with dark, sweet red bean paste and fried until the shell is crisp and blistered while the inside stays chewy. Locals buy them for festivals and as a winter treat. Chef's tip: seal the edges thoroughly and fry at a moderate heat; hot oil makes them burst and spit.

45 min

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Ludagun (donkey rolls)Rice rolls with red bean paste

The name means 'donkey rolling in the dust', after the golden soybean flour that coats these soft rolls like a donkey that has rolled on a dusty road. It's one of the old Beijing sweets sold at temple fairs and in snack streets near Houhai, often next to pea-flour cakes. Inside is chewy glutinous rice dough spread with red bean paste and rolled into a spiral. Chef's tip: toast the soybean flour yourself until it smells of roasted nuts; the shop-bought kind is often pale and flat-tasting.

50 min

Chinese Breads & Parathas

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Tibetan tingmoSteamed twisted buns

Tingmo are the everyday bread of Tibet: plain steamed buns made by stretching and twisting oiled strips of dough into a knot, so they open into soft, pull-apart layers. Families in Lhasa and Tibetan communities in Nepal and India eat them with spicy vegetable stews, dal and chilli sauce, tearing off pieces to mop up the sauce. The dough is simple; the twist takes a little practice. Chef's tip: once the steaming time is up, turn off the heat and wait 3 minutes before lifting the lid, so the buns don't collapse.

85 min

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Tibetan butter tea

On the cold Tibetan plateau, people drink many cups a day of this salty, buttery tea, and a host keeps topping up a guest's bowl as soon as a sip is taken. Traditionally, brick tea is boiled for a long time, then churned with yak butter and salt in a tall wooden cylinder called a chandong. At home, a blender gives the same creamy, frothy result. It tastes more like a light broth than a sweet tea. Chef's tip: boil the tea hard and long; it needs to be very strong to stand up to the butter.

14 min

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TsampaRoasted barley flour with butter tea

Tsampa, roasted highland barley flour, has been the staple food of the Tibetan plateau for centuries. Every morning, families in Lhasa and in nomad tents put a handful in a bowl, pour in butter tea, add a knob of butter and knead it with their fingers into small, nutty balls called pak. It's filling, quick and easy to carry. Barley flour is easy to find; toast it in a dry pan if it isn't already roasted. Chef's tip: add the tea a little at a time; you want a dough like firm marzipan, not a paste.

15 min

Chinese Breads & Parathas

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Xinjiang onion nangOnion flatbread

Across Xinjiang, from Kashgar's bazaars to Urumqi's backstreets, bakers slap rounds of dough onto the walls of clay tandoors and pull them out a few minutes later, golden and stamped with patterns. The centre is pressed thin and crisp while the rim stays soft and chewy, and the onion version is scattered with cumin and sesame. Nang keeps for days and is eaten with tea, kebabs and salads. Chef's tip: get your oven and tray as hot as they'll go; nang bakes quickly in fierce heat.

50 min

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Gansu jiangshui noodlesNoodles in tangy fermented vegetable broth

Tianshui and other towns in Gansu keep a crock of jiangshui going all summer: a pale, sour liquid made by fermenting greens in starchy noodle water. It is heated with chilli, Sichuan pepper and garlic chives and poured over hand-cut noodles, a cooling, refreshing bowl that people say beats the heat. The ferment takes 3–4 days in a warm kitchen, then keeps going for weeks if you top it up. Chef's tip: a spoonful of sauerkraut brine jump-starts the first batch, so it sours cleanly instead of growing off-flavours.

40 min

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Shanxi cat's ear noodles

Shanxi has more pasta shapes than almost anywhere in China, and these are among the easiest to make by hand: small pieces of dough pressed and rolled with the thumb so they curl up like a cat's ear. Families in Taiyuan and Pingyao boil them and then stir-fry them with vegetables, or serve them in broth. The cupped shape catches the sauce. Children enjoy shaping them. Chef's tip: dust the board lightly with flour; too much and the dough slides instead of curling.

50 min

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Shanxi knife-shaved noodles with tomato and egg

In Taiyuan, noodle cooks hold a block of stiff dough on one arm and shave strips off it straight into a boiling cauldron, so fast they look like falling leaves. Each noodle comes out thick in the middle and thin at the edges, chewy and slightly uneven, which is the whole charm. The most common topping in Shanxi homes is a soft tomato and egg sauce, with a splash of aged vinegar at the table. Chef's tip: a firm dough is essential; a soft one sticks to the blade and tears.

70 min

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Xi'an liangpiCold wheat starch noodles

In Xi'an's Muslim Quarter, cooks peel liangpi off steaming trays all day, cut it into wide ribbons and toss it with chilli oil, black vinegar, garlic water and cubes of springy gluten. It's eaten cold, often with a flatbread, as a summer lunch. Gansu's niangpi, from Lanzhou and Tianshui, is the same dish with thicker sheets and more garlic, so it's covered here too. You wash a flour dough to split the starch from the gluten, so allow 4 hours for the starch to settle. Chef's tip: stir the starch water every time before you ladle it, because the starch sinks fast.

100 min

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Dan dan noodles with mushroom and tofu crumble

Dan dan mian is named after the shoulder pole (dan) that Chengdu hawkers once used to carry their noodles and sauces through the streets. A proper bowl is small and intense: springy wheat noodles over a puddle of sesame paste, chilli oil and soy, topped with a crunchy, salty crumble and blanched greens. The crumble here is mushroom and tofu fried with preserved ya cai until crisp. Mix everything from the bottom before eating. Chef's tip: loosen the sesame paste with a little of the hot noodle water so it coats every strand instead of clumping.

25 min

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Sichuan chilli oil wontonsTofu and mushroom wontons in chilli oil

In Chengdu these are called hong you chao shou, 'red oil folded hands', after the way the wrappers are crossed over like arms. Little noodle shops serve them morning to night, slick with chilli oil, black vinegar and garlic. Our filling is firm tofu, shiitake and Chinese chives, so it's juicy without meat. Make a double batch: they freeze well uncooked. Chef's tip: squeeze the tofu hard in a cloth before mixing; dry filling seals better and the wontons won't burst in the water.

50 min

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Sichuan dry-fried green beans

Gan bian si ji dou, 'dry-fried four-season beans', is a fixture of Sichuan restaurant menus and home tables alike. The beans are fried until their skins wrinkle and blister, then tossed in a hot, dry wok with chilli, Sichuan pepper and salty preserved mustard greens (ya cai) from Yibin. Nothing is saucy: every bean is coated and slightly chewy. Restaurants usually add pork; this vegetarian version leans on the ya cai for depth. Chef's tip: dry the beans completely after washing, or they will spit and steam instead of blistering.

20 min

Chinese Sides

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Yu xiang aubergineSweet and sour garlic aubergine

Yu xiang is a Sichuan flavour named after the way local cooks once seasoned fish, but it contains no fish at all: pickled chilli, garlic, ginger and spring onion balanced with sugar and black vinegar. Aubergine is the dish most Chengdu households make with it, often for a weekday supper, because the soft, creamy flesh drinks up the sauce. Serve it with rice and a plain green vegetable. Chef's tip: salt the aubergine fingers for 15 minutes and squeeze them dry; they then absorb far less oil and turn silky instead of greasy.

30 min

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Suan la fenHot and sour sweet potato noodles

Chongqing's hot and sour noodles are made from sweet potato starch, so they are chewy, bouncy and almost clear. They come in a broth that is sharp with black vinegar and red with chilli, topped with fried peanuts or soybeans and a spoonful of pickled greens. Students live on it, and it's a favourite late-night snack across the south-west. Plan for the 30-minute soak for the dried noodles. Chef's tip: add the vinegar to the bowl, not the pan; boiled vinegar loses the sharp edge that makes this dish.

25 min

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Dongbei da la piMung bean sheet salad

In north-east China, a big platter of this arrives at almost every family dinner and restaurant table, often next to the stews and dumplings. Wide, glassy sheets of mung-bean starch sit on a bed of shredded cucumber, carrot and cabbage, with a sesame, garlic and vinegar sauce and a dab of mustard poured over at the table. It's cool, slippery and crunchy. Look for dried la pi sheets or wide mung-bean noodles in Chinese supermarkets. Chef's tip: the sheet noodles must be fully cold before mixing, or they go soft and sticky.

25 min

Chinese Salads

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Chongqing xiao mianChilli oil noodles

Chongqing wakes up to these: thin wheat noodles in a small bowl of red, numbing sauce, eaten standing up at street stalls before work. The noodles are plain; everything happens in the bowl, where chilli oil, Sichuan pepper, garlic water, preserved mustard greens and crushed peanuts are stacked up before the noodles go in. The vegetable version on this page is how most locals order it day to day. Chef's tip: some bought chilli oils are made with beef fat, so check the label or use your own vegetable-oil chilli oil.

20 min

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Sichuan vegetable hot pot

Across Chengdu and Chongqing, friends spend whole evenings round a bubbling pot of red broth, dipping in mushrooms, tofu and greens a few at a time and fishing them out with chopsticks. The best-known bases are cooked in beef tallow; the clear-oil style (qīngyóu huǒguō) uses rapeseed oil instead, which keeps it vegetarian without losing the heat and tingle. You need a portable burner or electric hot pot on the table. Chef's tip: give each person a bowl of sesame oil with crushed garlic for dipping; it cools each mouthful just enough to keep going.

70 min

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Chuanbei liangfenMung bean jelly in chilli oil

Nanchong, in the hills of north Sichuan, is famous for this snack: a soft, wobbly jelly set from bean starch, cut into thick ribbons and drowned in a red, glossy dressing. Street sellers keep it in big blocks and slice it to order, and people eat it as a mid-afternoon snack or a cold starter on hot days. The jelly itself tastes of almost nothing; the slippery texture and the punchy dressing are the point. Chef's tip: let the jelly set fully in the fridge, ideally overnight, so it is firm enough to cut cleanly but still trembles.

25 min

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Hot and sour potato shreds

In Chengdu this is the dish a family orders when the table already has something rich: a heap of potato cut as fine as matchsticks, cooked for barely two minutes so it stays crunchy, sharp with vinegar and warm with dried chilli. Over the border in Shanxi the same dish is made with the province's dark aged vinegar (lǎo chéncù) and less chilli, and it tastes deeper and slightly sweet; both versions are given here. It goes with plain rice and any braised tofu or bean dish. Chef's tip: rinse the cut potato until the water runs clear, because that washed-off starch is what turns the shreds gluey in the wok.

20 min

Chinese Sides

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Shanghai stir-fried rice cakes

Every Shanghai noodle shop has this on the menu: oval slices of rice cake, made from pounded rice, tossed in a wok with Shanghai pak choi and mushrooms until chewy and glossy brown. At New Year it's eaten for luck, because niángāo sounds like 'higher every year'. The usual version adds shredded pork, but it's often made with vegetables alone. Look for packs of sliced rice cakes in the fridge or freezer of Chinese supermarkets. Chef's tip: soak the slices in cold water first, so they cook evenly and don't stick together.

22 min

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Wensi tofu soupShredded tofu soup

This Yangzhou soup is a test of knife skill: a block of soft tofu is sliced and shredded so finely that the threads drift apart like silk in the bowl. It is credited to a Buddhist monk named Wensi, who served it at a temple in Yangzhou during the Qing dynasty, so a meat-free broth is true to its roots. Huaiyang banquets still serve it as a quiet, delicate course. Chef's tip: wet the knife and slice in one smooth stroke without lifting; the tofu then stays together until you fan it into water.

40 min

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QingbuliangIced coconut milk dessert soup

On hot evenings in Haikou, night-market stalls ladle this into bowls: coconut milk poured over red beans, mung beans, sago pearls, cubes of jelly and fresh tropical fruit, with a scoop of shaved ice on top. The name roughly means 'clearing, nourishing, cooling', and Hainan people eat it to cool down in their long summer. Everything except the fruit can be cooked a day ahead and chilled. Chef's tip: cook each bean separately; they soften at different speeds.

80 min

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Hainan coconut riceSticky rice in coconut

Across Hainan island, in Wenchang and Haikou especially, cooks fill whole mature coconuts with glutinous rice and steam them for hours until the rice is sticky, sweet and full of coconut flavour. The coconut is cut open at the table and served in wedges with the white flesh still attached. Look for brown, mature coconuts that slosh when shaken. Soak the rice for 4 hours first. Chef's tip: a cleaver tapped round the shell's 'equator' near the top opens it more safely than trying to saw it.

120 min

Chinese Breads & Parathas

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Beijing sesame shaobingSesame paste flatbreads

Old Beijing eats these at breakfast with a bowl of soy milk, or tears them up beside a lamb hot pot. The dough is spread with toasted sesame paste and ground Sichuan pepper, rolled up and coiled, so a cut loaf shows a spiral of dozens of thin brown layers. The top is crusted with sesame seeds and baked until it shatters. Chef's tip: spread the paste right to the edges and roll tightly; air pockets make the layers separate and burst.

80 min

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Bubble tea with brown sugar pearlsMilk tea with tapioca pearls

Pearl milk tea (zhen zhu nai cha) was born in Taichung, Taiwan, in the 1980s and has since spread to tea shops in every Chinese city. Strong black tea is shaken with milk and ice over dark, chewy tapioca pearls soaked in brown sugar syrup. Store-bought quick-cook pearls make it easy at home; kids love the big straws. Chef's tip: cook the pearls right before serving; after a couple of hours they go hard, and they can't be revived in the fridge.

30 min

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Cantonese mooncakes with lotus or red bean pasteFilled pastry mooncakes

Mooncakes are exchanged and eaten all over China at the Mid-Autumn Festival, when families gather under the full moon with tea and fruit. The Cantonese style, from Guangdong and Hong Kong, has a thin, shiny brown crust around a dense, sweet filling of lotus seed paste or red bean paste; this vegetarian version leaves out the salted duck egg yolks. You need a mooncake press (50–75 g size). Chef's tip: rest the baked mooncakes in an airtight tin for 2 days; the crust softens and turns glossy, a change bakers call 'returning oil'.

180 min

Chinese Baking

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Beijing mung bean cakes

Beijing pastry shops stack these pale yellow cakes high in early summer, when they're eaten for the Dragon Boat Festival and as a cooling sweet on hot afternoons. Peeled mung beans are steamed, mashed with sugar and oil, then pressed in wooden moulds, so each cake comes out with a pattern. Northern versions are dry and crumbly; Suzhou ones further south are oilier. You need a mooncake press or small mould. Chef's tip: cook the paste until it pulls away from the pan in one ball; if it's too wet the cakes slump.

80 min

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Mango pomelo sagoMango, pomelo and sago dessert

Yeung chi gam lo was created in a Hong Kong restaurant in the 1980s and quickly became the city's favourite summer dessert, served in dessert shops late into the night. It's half drink, half pudding: puréed ripe mango mixed with coconut and evaporated milk, studded with chewy sago pearls, mango cubes and juicy pomelo. Chef's tip: rinse the cooked sago under cold water until it stops feeling slimy; this keeps each pearl separate and the dessert clean-tasting.

35 min

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Black sesame tang yuan in ginger syrupSesame rice balls in ginger syrup

Tang yuan are eaten all over China at the Lantern Festival, on the fifteenth day of the Lunar New Year, and in the south also at the winter solstice; their roundness stands for family togetherness. The dough is glutinous rice flour, the classic filling black sesame, sugar and fat, served in a light ginger syrup. Lard is traditional in the filling; coconut oil sets just as firmly and keeps them vegan. Chef's tip: chill the filling until firm and roll it into balls before you start the dough; cold filling is far easier to wrap.

45 min

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Hong Kong egg tarts

Daan taat are the pride of Hong Kong bakeries and cha chaan teng, where they come out of the oven several times a day and are eaten warm with a glass of milk tea. Unlike Portuguese tarts, the custard stays smooth, glossy and bright yellow with no scorched top, and this version uses a buttery shortcrust (lard is traditional in some bakeries; we use only butter). Chef's tip: strain the custard twice and skim off every bubble; that's what gives the mirror-smooth surface.

60 min

Chinese Baking

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Yangzhou-style vegetable fried riceEgg and vegetable fried rice

Yangzhou in Jiangsu gave its name to China's most famous fried rice, which is supposed to show off a cook's skill: separate, glossy grains, small even dice and egg in every mouthful. The original carries ham and shrimp; this vegetable version swaps them for shiitake, peas, carrot and sweetcorn, and keeps the seasoning light (salt and a little soy) so the rice stays pale and golden rather than brown. It's a meal on its own or a side for stir-fries. Chef's tip: use rice cooked the day before and chilled uncovered; fresh rice is too soft and clumps.

20 min

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Shanghai ci fan tuanSticky rice rolls with fried dough

Ci fan tuan is one of the 'four heavenly kings' of Shanghai breakfast, along with fried dough sticks, soy milk and sesame flatbread. Vendors spread warm sticky rice on a cloth, lay a crisp youtiao and pickles in the middle and squeeze it into a fat roll to eat on the way to work. The savoury version often adds pork floss; this one uses pickled mustard and sesame, and there's a sweet sugar version too. Soak the rice overnight. Chef's tip: wrap the rice tightly in cling film and a tea towel, so the roll holds without being squashed flat.

50 min

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Guangxi five-colour sticky rice

The Zhuang people of Guangxi steam this rainbow rice for Sānyuèsān, the festival on the third day of the third lunar month, and for weddings and tomb-sweeping. In the villages the colours come from local leaves and flowers; at home, turmeric, beetroot, blue pea flowers and black rice give the same effect without any artificial dye. It's eaten plain, sprinkled with sugar or with savoury dishes. Soak the rice for 6 hours or overnight. Chef's tip: soak each colour in its own bowl and keep them apart in the steamer, so the colours stay clear.

70 min

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Guiyang si wa waPancake rolls with shredded vegetables

Guiyang's favourite street snack is a do-it-yourself meal: stalls set out twenty or more small bowls of shredded vegetables, and each person wraps a few strands in a pancake no bigger than a palm, folds it like a swaddled baby and pours in a spoonful of sour, chilli-flecked broth. It's light, crunchy and fun to eat with friends. Use as many fillings as you like; the more colours, the better. Chef's tip: shred everything as fine as you can, so the little parcels stay neat and each mouthful has several flavours.

55 min

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Dai pineapple sticky rice

In Xishuangbanna, the tropical south of Yunnan, the Dai people cook sticky rice inside hollowed-out pineapples, so the fruit's juice soaks in while it steams. It turns up at festivals and on every Dai restaurant table, a sweet and tangy side next to grilled and sour dishes, and children love it. Soak the rice for at least 4 hours before you start. Chef's tip: use a ripe pineapple that smells sweet at the base; an under-ripe one makes the rice sour.

65 min

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Kunming grilled erkuaiGrilled rice cakes

Erkuai is Yunnan's everyday rice cake, made by steaming and pounding rice into a dense, chewy dough. In Kunming and Tengchong, morning vendors grill thin rounds of it over charcoal until they blister, brush on sweet bean sauce, chilli and sesame, and fold it round fried dough or spicy potato shreds. Real erkuai is hard to find abroad, so the rounds here are made from rice flour and steamed, which comes close. Chef's tip: keep the rounds covered while you work, because the surface dries out and cracks quickly.

50 min

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Yunnan wild mushroom stir-fry

From June to September, the markets of Kunming fill up with wild mushrooms from the mountains: porcini, chanterelles, termite mushrooms and dozens more, and restaurants fry them with a lot of garlic and chilli. Wild mushrooms there are always cooked thoroughly, and some kinds are dangerous, so at home use only shop-bought mushrooms. A mix of oyster, king oyster, shiitake and any chanterelles or porcini you can find works well. Chef's tip: cook the mushrooms in a hot, uncrowded pan so they sear; crowded mushrooms sweat and go rubbery.

22 min

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Xiamen sweet peanut soup

In Xiamen on the Fujian coast, peanut soup is breakfast, mid-morning snack and late-night treat, sold from steaming pots in the old arcades along Zhongshan Road. The peanuts are cooked so slowly that they become soft and creamy while keeping their shape, and the broth turns milky and lightly sweet. Locals often dunk a fried dough stick into it. Chef's tip: soak the peanuts, then freeze them overnight; the ice crystals break down the cell walls and the peanuts cook to that melting texture much faster.

135 min

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Hakka lei chaPounded herb and peanut tea

Lei cha means 'pounded tea', and in Hakka villages from Jieyang and Hepo to Taiwan and Malaysia it is still ground by hand in a ridged bowl with a guava-wood stick. Tea leaves, basil, mint and coriander are pounded with sesame and peanuts, then loosened with hot water into a grassy green soup. It's ladled over a bowl of rice topped with small heaps of stir-fried greens, beans, tofu and preserved radish. Some families eat it on the seventh day of the New Year. Chef's tip: toast the sesame and peanuts yourself; the toasting gives the soup its depth.

45 min