Nuo Mi Fan, or Chinese Sticky Rice

Nuo Mi Fan, or Chinese Sticky Rice, is a Chinese household staple.  This is another recipe from Mom, who calls it Luo Mi Fan, but the pronunciation must differ by region because I can't find an "official" one in my searches.  I like mine extra sticky.  I recently discovered that lots of Chinese-Americans will use Nuo Mi Fan in place of a bread stuffing in their turkeys for Thanksgiving.  Mom always used Stovetop, and I've made my own bread stuffing from scratch for years.

Grandpa in the 1940s; Grandma, Dad, and my aunt

However, she said Grandpa, whom I called Ah-gong, used it to stuff his turkeys as well.  Grandpa was a native of Hainan, China, who immigrated to Singapore.  There he worked as a cook on ships, though we inherited no recipes from him.  He was on a ship during a Japanese invasion of Singapore (in the 1940s, I believe), and borders were closed and he ended up in New York City, parted from his family.  Only decades later did he locate my grandmother and Dad, and they rejoined him in New York.  But apparently during that time Grandpa engaged in practices like stuffing turkeys with sticky rice and developing a taste for Irish corned beef, which the Hainanese of Brooklyn called "salty beef."

One important thing of note is that Nuo Mi Fan usually includes dried mushrooms that are rehydrated.  But I hate mushrooms in any form.  So when Mom taught me this recipe earlier this summer, she omitted them.  That led Dad to ask, "Where are the mushrooms?"  For me the main attraction instead is the Chinese sausage, called la chang or lap cheong.  It's got a different flavor and texture from Western-style sausages, so don't substitute.  Some brands are better than others (I had an awful one once), but Mom got these straight from the butcher for me.  You can freeze them.

Regular long-grain rice won't work in this recipe.  You have to get glutinous rice, also known as sweet rice.  The grains are shorter and rounder and the result stickier, kind of like risotto.

Nuo Mi Fan is traditionally plated as a dome

Dried shrimp are common in Chinese cooking, but the unfamiliarity can put some people off.  Give it a try, but if it's a deal breaker or you can't find any, omit them.

And on a side note, it's mooncake time!  The Mid-Autumn Festival starts on Sept. 12 this year, so I bought my mooncakes, or yuebing.  I've noticed some beautiful snowskin mooncakes in various colors on the blogosphere lately.  View a bunch here.

Mom's Shrimp-Stuffed Eggplant

New photo updated Oct. 2012. 

You might think shrimp and eggplant are an odd combination, unless you've had this dish at dim sum.  I love it.  Mom still finds it weird to have me snapping shots around her and trying to note every little detail, but I got the recipe!  In exchange, I showed her how to make sweet potato biscuits, which I'll be posting soon.

The eggplant is sliced on the diagonal, and then sliced again (but not all the way through) to create a pocket to hold the shrimp.  The slices are then filled with shrimp, and browned in the pan.  Because eggplant sucks up oil like a sponge, eggplant dishes can be greasy.  Mom uses the Chinese method of quickly frying for color and flavor, then steaming the rest of the way through to avoid more oil absorption.  The dish is finished off with the usual oyster sauce, and Mom's addition of mirin adds complexity.  Use Japanese eggplants, which are slender and long, rather than the short and bulbous Italian variety.

Singapore Mei Fun

I was happy to tackle this dish since my dad is from Singapore, (though my parental sources informed me it was created by Cantonese people who thought the flavors were like Singapore's, not Singaporeans).  Also, because I attempted it a couple of months ago with the result of mushy and crumbled noodles.  Happily, all went right with this attempt, and I have another old favorite under my belt.  In a departure from the recipe, I used roast pork (char siu) instead of ordinary pork for added flavor.  There are roast pork recipes online, but most people, myself included, just buy it from the restaurant.

I learned that all rice vermicelli (mei fun or mi fen) is not created equal, and that certain types hold up better to stir-frying.  Also, don't stir-fry the noodles so long that they fall apart on you.  My mother recommended this brand from Thailand since she's used it before, but I can't say more beyond that on what brands to look out for.  Let me know if you have more guidance in this vein.