.The Great Chinese Food Hoax

DOUGLAS DACRE October 1 1955

.The Great Chinese Food Hoax

DOUGLAS DACRE October 1 1955

.The Great Chinese Food Hoax


WHO GOT FOOLED? WE DID). For years we insisted that our Chinese cooks crvc us ruhbcr atidwichc and cardboard pies when all the time they could cook as well as Escoffier. Except that Escoffier never heard of such delights as lotus roots and Wandering Dragon


LATE LAST century some thousands of Chinese from Canton, having completed the epic labor for which they had been lured to Canada— helping pick-and-shovel the transcontinental rail beds to the Pacific tried to earn a living with their only really valuable asset: a knowledge of Cantonese cookery. (Their knowing countrymen had a saying, “The happy man is he who chooses his wife from Peking, his concubine from Nanking—and his cook from Canton.”)

But when the new Canadian institution, the Chinese café, first opened hole-in-the-wall doors on the main streets of many a small town, the first sceptical customers scanned the scrawled menus and made one thing clear: “None of this Chinee chow, Charlie; you’ve got to serve real Canadian food if you expect to stay in business.”

The collective Chinese café keepers of Canada

nodded. Sure, they knew Canadian food. Many them had worked in the cook shacks of the railro^ gangs and had learned what the white man appetite demanded: greasy soup, fried meat, homi fried potatoes, boiled cabbage, stacks of whij bread, apple pie and coffee. If that was what tl customers wanted . ..

The result was one of the most durable and iron jokes ever played on the Canadian public. For tl next sixty years a sizable portion of the single I traveling male population of this country was I have inflicted on it some of the worst food in i history. To satisfy the curiosity of those who hai never eaten in a standard “Western style” Chine restaurant—and the nostalgia of those who havesome of the specialités should be recalled: At brea fast, the glazed and impermeable toast, the rige mortis eggs, the hot black tasteless liquid label«

¡olïee. Lunch and dinner menus were the same, and ¡ven the smallest remote cafés offered a surprising variety of dishes. Once two couples walked into a Chinese cafe in a sleepy little town north of To'onto. When they saw on the menu that roast beef, •oast pork, roast veal and roast lamb were all ivailable, they decided to order a serving of each.

The Chinese waiter accepted the order so imjassively that one of the men decided to spy on the ritchen. A few minutes later, bemused, he reported lis findings: The chef (who had been the waiter a noment previously) had removed from the rerigerator four lumps of cooked meat, had cut jenerous slices from each, then swished the slices n turn in a basin of hot water, then had shaken the lurplus water off, laid the slices on plates, and covered each with hot gravy.

But it was at the late-night snack that CanadianDhinese cuisine achieved its nightmarish worst, in the shape of the Denver sandwich. This was a blend of tired onions and eggs not quite old enough to be distinguished in the true Chinese fashion, the mixture fried enclosed in cold soggy toast. The typical Chinese café pie came in the guise of apple, raisin, mince or coconut cream, sharing in common a casing that looked like glazed cardboard but was somewhat less tasty.

The real ¡irony of it all was, of course, that in the ¡privacy of the same kitchens that produced this Imitation food the proprietor and his helpers were concocting delectable gourmet dishes for themselves from the same raw materials as went into the

ulcerous fare they served out front. Today the building of chromium-and-crystal Chinese restaurants and the preparation and serving of the appetizing dishes which Canadians first rejected two generations ago has become one of t he nation’s

fastest-growing minor industries. In Vancouv estimated five thousand men, women and chile, invade Canada’s biggest Chinatown to dine o. Saturday and Sunday nights. In Toronto the burgeoning Chinese cuisine has received virtually official endorsation. The late Robert Saunders, chairman of the Ontario Hydro Commission, did much of his informal and official entertaining in Toronto’s top Chinese restaurants.

Vancouver’s gourmet restaurants are legion, and will be discussed at greater length, but most cities in Canada have at least one Chinese restaurant which compares favorably with any of these. A Vancouver Chinese epicure who crosses the country on business from time to time dines at the Purple Dragon or t he Seven Seas in Edmonton, the Golden Dragon in Calgary, the Nanking in Winnipeg, the Lichee Garden in Toronto, the Canton Inn in Ottawa, t he Nanking, the Jasmin and Ruby Foo’s in Montreal, and The Club in Halifax.

,iiivit,iitLe~tt,~iiRi iiie~iuu iii wIiiiux. But before I hey came into their own, it would seem I hat in all justice' the (`hinese restaurateurs undoubtedly deserved hot Ii the comfort of heir own delicious food, cooked and eaten in lonely p~~'acy, and the vengeance they wreaked on their everyday customers, t he 1 meal (lescendant s of I hose' early customers who spurned `Chinee chow.' For I hrough those years the Chinese population of Canada were by all odds the most lonely, neglected and unappreciated people in the country literally second-class cit iiens. In the first quarter of

Continued on page 34

The Great Chinese Food Hoax


a century after the Chinese were on their own in Canada, all a Chinese resident of Canada required to be allowed to bring in a wife was five hundred dollars to cover the head tax—a sum far beyond the reach of most exrailway laborers, of course. In British Columbia where the majority of disbanded railway workers settled, hurriedly passed provincial laws limited the occupations Chinese could engage in—they included mining and pharmacy, for some reason.

Then, after Mackenzie King came to power, a gentle, ruthless death sentence was pronounced on the Chinese of Canada in 1923. An immigration act simply provided that no Orientals could be admitted to Canada. Until repealed in 1946, this act effectively reduced Canada’s Chinese population by half—from sixty thousand before the exclusion act to thirty thousand by the time of repeal.

Apart from political troubles (which really had little to do with the acceptance or non-acceptance of Chinese food), why was the acceptance of this delectable cuisine so long delayed— and what were the factors that brought about the present boom?

In Toronto, the boom started in a modest way some twenty-five years ago, for a strange reason. Between the turn of this century and World War I, a large number of Canadian missionaries had gone to China. By the Twenties their children were being sent back home for university or nursing courses. These China-born Canadians wanted Chinese food and invaded Toronto’s small Chinatown restaurants in search of it. From walk-up restaurant to walk-up restaurant they went, testing the sweet-and-sour spare ribs, the chicken livers with green peppers, the beef with broccoli, the chicken chow mein, the bean curd soup, the shrimp with water chestnuts.

Where their China-trained taste told them the food was good, there they patronized. The China-born Canadians took their friends, who in turn took their friends; by the mid-Thirties a cult was born and has been growing ever since. In Toronto, this word-ofmouth method of selection brought wide fame to a small nameless secondfloor restaurant designated simply as "22A” for its number on Elizabeth Street. Recently this restaurant, along with the greater part of Toronto’s older Chinatown, has been demolished to make room for CivicSquare.

As devotees of Chinese food increased in number, many an adventurous housewife decided to try her own hand at the delectable dishes; others wanted the genuine article—but at home. In some cities, particularly

Vancouver, drive-in, take-out and home-delivery restaurants have sprung up to supplement the sit-down establishments. Because Occidental women are learning to cook Chinese food at home, newspapers and magazines are printing Chinese recipes and publishers are rushing new Chinese cookbooks to press. Abreast of the times are hundreds of supermarkets which now stack their shelves with canned Chinese ingredients and load their freezers with frozen ready-cooked Chinese dishes. During the past seven years the volume of Chinese groceries imported into Canada from Hong Kong has doubled.

Last fall, as part of its program for promoting better racial relations, the Pender Street (Chinatown) branch of

the Vancouver YWCA sponsored gro; dinners at a dollar seventy-five a he in reputable Chinese restaurants. TV. day after the press announcement o thousand Occidentals applied for tit ets. During the next two weeks neatwo thousand Westerners, most whom admitted they’d been too shy visit Chinatown unescorted, sat dos to typical Cantonese meals. The vis were so effective that restauratet since have noticed many of the part pants dining in Chinatown regularly

Chinese caterers are also profiti from the current boom in cooked fo that is eaten off the premises. At Vs couver’s Ding Ho, which is nothi: but a well-appointed kitchen in t middle of a huge, brightly lit parks lot, waiters in traditional skull ca and frogged tunics will clip a tí across the front windows of your c and serve you with deep fried shrinj in polished rice, duck stewed in ta gerine skins, or diced pork smothei with bean sprouts. If you prefer, thej bring you a carton full of chicken stft in oyster sauce, or any other dish frj an extensive menu, which you c then eat at home, at the ball game,( if you feel so inclined, on top of Mou Seymour.

Four years ago Henry Wong, own of Vancouver’s Horseshoe Restaurai began sending out by taxi hot Chins food to a few Occidental homes. Ted he runs three big trucks, equipped wi warming ovens, all over the city and environs. Wong now sells sixty the sand dollars’ worth of food a year this way and believes, in spite of fc fact that five competitors have enter the field against him, that the busins will eventually double itself.

Supermarkets for the Timid

The rising appetite for Chinese fa cannot be satisfied by profession chefs. Winnie McLear, the food edit of the Vancouver Province, has had learn Chinese cooking in response her readers’ demands for recipes. H readers have become so discriminate that she admits, "Sometimes I preps a Chinese dish about six times befoj I’m confident enough to print t recipe.”

No matter how keen Occident women become on Chinese cooki most are still too timid to go shoppi in the quaint little stores of the loi Chinatown. So the supermarkets s catering to their needs. Packag Chinese staples like bamboo shoo water chestnuts, bean sprouts, muí rooms, ginger, lotus roots and nood are as familiar a sight on the shelves frozen prepared dishes like chow me chop suey and egg rolls are in t freezers. Many Vancouver supi markets give away a pair of chopstic with every can of Chinese food.

Statistics available at the Natior Harbors Board offices in Vaneou\ provide the most concrete evidence the increasing popularity of Chin« fare. In 1948, when postwar tradi relations had returned to normal, shi from Hong Kong unloaded ninetej hundred tons of almonds, birds’ nesi shellfish, orange peel, garlic, lilij mushrooms, nuts, sharks’ fins a other dried groceries which add smatl to Chinese dishes. Last year imports this category amounted to thirty-eig hundred tons.

Esther Fong-Dickman, a Vancouv schoolteacher and social worker, ft noticed Occidental interest in Chins food three years ago when, at t Pender Street YWCA, she offered teach Western housewives how to co it.

She expected a limited response. 1 her astonishment more than thr hundred women, mostly from the we

Only barbarians use knives, said the king, so everyone ate with chopsticks

heeled Vancouver suburbs of Point Grey, Kerrisdale and Shaughnessy, tried to enroll. The trend has continued. A few months ago a small hall at the University of British Columbia was packed by watery-mouthed Occidentals who watched Professor Leslie Wong step aside from his customary lectures in the Faculty of Commerce and demonstrate with a cleaver, a mixing bowl, a skillet, a pair of chopsticks, a stove and some meat and vegetables, just why the Chinese identify cooking with the worship of God.

Western interest in Eastern edibles seems to stem from several causes. Pretty Susan Woo, a nurse at the Vancouver General Hospital, who housekeeps at home for four bachelor brothers, says she finds it cheaper to cook Chinese dishes than Western dishes because the Chinese require less meat. Although medical men will not state flatly that Chinese food is less fattening than Western food, Vancouver’s Dr. Guy H. Chan says, "There is no doubt that the absence of potatoes, butter, cream and rich desserts from the Chinese diet, is conducive to slimness.” A couple of years ago Rosamond Ross, a dietitian on the staff of the Vancouver Board of Health, conducted a survey at Lord Stratheona School where New Canadians of nearly forty nationalities receive tuition. She found that those with the most balanced diet were the Chinese.

However, the primary reason for the growing enthusiasm for Chinese cooking, in the opinion of Quon Wong, a well-traveled Vancouver tourist agent, is the monotony of menus in Canada’s Western restaurants. Quon Wong believes Quebec has missed a glorious opportunity to promote the tasty French cuisine in Canada. "And so,” he says, "people are turning to the only other race with a comparable reverence for food.”

Probably the best—and certainly the most—Chinese cooking is to be found in Vancouver where ten thousand of this country’s forty thousand Chinese inhabit an exotic square mile on the fringe of the city’s business district. After seven at night it is difficult to find parking space in this biggest of all Canadian Chinatowns because a dozen restaurants, ranging from the small and intimate to the big and jazzy, are flourishing by providing good food at a reasonable price. One restaurateur, Sammie Kee, reckons that about four thousand Occidentals eat in Vancouver’s Chinatown every Friday and Saturday night.

Chinese cuisine is based on a long tradition. When the skin-girt ancestors of the great European chefs were gnawing on raw bones in a cave, silkenclad Chinese were arguing about the relative merits of spices and vintage wines. Chinese etiquette was formalized at least two thousand years before the Christian era. Chopsticks were then in use because an ancient king had decided it was impolite to ask his guests to cut their own meat.

A primitive agriculture and overpopulation have long threatened China with famine but it was the very shortage of food that inspired its culinary arts. Hunger has frequently driven the Chinese to eating anything they could lay their hands on, from seeds to hark and from snails to sparrows. During these exhaustive experiments on edibles important discoveries were inevitable.

In a whimsical passage of his book, The Importance of Living, Lin Yutang,

great contemporary Chinese philos pher, says his kinsmen are backward the sciences of zoology and botar because they cannot look uneny tionally at an animal or a plant wifi out wondering how it would taste. Chinese, he says, cannot even look ; a camel’s hump without longing cook it.

Chinese philosophers nearly all agr with the theory that heaven is herec earth and that human happiness, whit is the end of all knowledge, is to i achieved through an educated use of tí senses. And taste, they say, is not t! least important of these. Unable : comprehend hovr Westerners can sep: rate the soulful from the sensual, tl average Chinese regards bad cooking « heresy since this constitutes a repudi tion of the Deity’s benevolence. A the great Chinese bards have ma: cooking a theme for verse.

"Friends who meet at meals meet peace,” says Lin Yutang. "How Chinese glows over a good feast! He apt he is to cry out that life is beautif when his intestines are well filled. Fro his well-filled stomach suffuses ar radiates a happiness that is spiritual

It’s Got to Have Crunch

So subtle is Chinese cooking th flavor is only one of the propert: required. The two most expensi ingredients used—the bird’s nest a: the shark’s fin—are flavorless. Th are employed because when dissolv they impart to soups a glutinous tt ture that caresses the palate. The so derives its flavor from the meat sto and vegetables. The importance texture is revealed in the Chinese love bamboo shoots, noodles and peapoc None are remarkable for taste but have a crunchiness which Chine relish. Dimension is also appreciate Food is served in pieces small enough be picked up with chopsticks and eat as a single mouthful. Each of t many different dishes served at Chinese meal contains mixtures of fo particles of approximately the sai size. Little shrimps go with beans, button mushrooms with asparagus ti; This classification by size appeals the Chinese sense of harmony. ’1 same applies to color. Brilliant red a: brilliant green clash so red peppers ? rarely served on the same dish young peapods. Gold and cream ble so chicken and bamboo shoots may mixed.

Staple meats are pork, duck, chick and fish. Beef is seldom served becaij cattle in China are raised for haulij loads and killed only when too old! work. For the same reason, milk pre? ucts are rare in Chinese dishes.

Carving at table is unknown, j formal banquets a duck, chicken, sue] ling pig or hig fish is often served whej But fowls and pigs are cunninglyO up and reassembled so that pieces nj be removed with chopsticks. Big are steamed so soft the flesh falls a« from the bone at a touch.

More commonly, meat and fish i cut into strips or cubes before they d cooked. Then they are mixed wj various combinations of vegetable The list of Chinese vegetables is aim* endless. By Western standards vegetables are undercooked. rfl leaves them crisp, nutritious ¡í easily digestible.

As pork fat, a coarse product, is only animal fat available in quant to the Chinese, they use vegetable

instead. Peanut, soy and sesame oil, from seeds indigenous to China, are the most common.

Chopped food, fried or steamed for short periods at intense heat, and highly spiced, is the chief characteristic of the Chinese cuisine.

The Chinese have no use for kitchen gadgets. Meat and vegetables are chopped with a cleaver on a stout wooden block. Skilled chefs chop with hoth hands simultaneously. Chopsticks are used for stirring. The Chinese stove is a hollow brick cube fired with charcoal. In the top are two holes, one for frying and one for steaming. Both steaming and frying pans have rounded bottoms which bulge down into the holes, receive a uniform measure of heat, and avert the problem of particles sticking or burning in corners. Stoves in the best Chinese restaurants are of stainless steel and fired by gas, but they function on the same principle as their ancient charcoal prototypes.

Places at table are laid with a soup bowl, a porcelain soup spoon—which doesn’t burn the lips so easily as a metal one—and a tiny cup, without a handle, for green tea. This is always taken without sugar or cream. In restaurants Chinese are given chopsticks but Occidentals, unless they ask for chopsticks, are given a spoon and fork.

It is best to go to a Chinese restaurant in fours, sixes, or eights. Nearly every Chinese dish is meant to be shared by a party and contains too much of the same sort of food for one or two people. Four people usually find three different dishes sufficient and six people generally find four different dishes enough.

Most people visiting a Chinese restaurant for the first time are timid and order chop suey or chow mein because these are the most familiar terms to westerners. They find they cannot get through a half of it. What they are trying to eat is something comparable to a tureen full of potatoes set on a western table for four or six people. Chop suey and chow mein are bulk vegetable dishes intended to be shared by large groups who are eating meat dishes. Another bulk dish, served in a great variety of ways, is rice.

Next time you go to a Chinese restaurant try this meal for six: chicken consomme; deep fried shrimps with pineapples; chop suey; sauteed diced chicken with almonds; pork strips and mushrooms; rice and tea. Or try this for four: green pea soup with a raw egg swirl; broiled big shrimps; sauteed sliced duck; broiled live crab; rice and tea. For these meals the middle-price Bamboo Terrace restaurant in Vancouver charges $8.75 and $6.75 respectively. Few western restaurants provide such a varied meal for less than two dollars a head.

Since the western connoisseurs of Chinese food began to grow more discriminating many restaurateurs have brought to Canada chefs trained in the swankier establishments of Hong Kong. Recently, Vancouver’s Lotus Gardens engaged a nineteen-year-old doe-eyed boy named Mah Ho Kang. From the age of twelve he had been schooled in the kitchens of the famous Silver Dragon in Hong Kong. Soon after he started work at the Lotus Gardens the other chefs began kowtowing to Mah Ho Kang because they recognized him as a master.

A few weeks ago Mah Ho Kang cooked one of his favorite dishes for six. He cut up the breast of a raw chicken into strips, taking care to leave the skin adhering to each piece. Then he cracked two eggs between his fingers and slurped the whites into a dish. Onto the unbeaten whites he tossed a

few spring onions, a little waterq and some green ginger. He add« dash of soya sauce and a dash; Chinese wine and rubbed the piec« chicken round in the mixture. W] they were well coated he plunged tl into a deep pan of hot peanut oil. T sizzled tantalizingly until they \ veloped a rich cream color. At | moment Mah Ho Kang put them a a hot dish to drain.

Quickly he slit the bellies of a cod of dozen big shrimps, rubbed tlj round in the same eggwhite-and-M mixture and dropped them into | same peanut oil. Within a few secq the shrimps puffed up into big pink] white balls. Chicken and shrimps v then served on the same dish. \ chicken was smooth, slippery and to the palate; the shrimps were c and airy. Mah Ho Kang calls dish Wandering Dragon.

While it was being devoured. Mah Kang prepared some of his Hong K delicacies. He made a light pas rolled it paper thin and cut it circles. Onto each circle he dah a blob of filling that consisted of 1 shrimps and chicken livers choppet very fine with bamboo shoots shallow fried for a few seconds in a \ hot film of aromatic sesame oil. Foil the pastry over the filling, heO molded the dumplings into the shaj seashells. Then he gave them tei fifteen minutes fierce steaming. £ sampling one, a guest remarked, must he what they eat in Nirv Let’s all turn Buddhist.”

A Duck in the Bag

Ninety-five percent of Cana Chinese chefs cook Cantonese si The Chinese community therefore 1 to eat for a change of the slig different north China cuisine, characteristic of the northern Chi is a taste for bread. The dough of bread is very similar to that of Wes bread but, instead of being baked, steamed. Steamed bread is one ol most important items in a fan northern Chinese dish known as P Duck.

Mrs. Hsueh Chih Wei, the buxom and striking wife of the Chi Nationalist Consul in Vancouver, northern Chinese and on Sa tu: nights she often serves Pekin Due six or eight guests. Preparations l on Friday morning when she go« one of the big poulterers in Chinai where hundreds of chicken and di crowing and quacking in crates, for customers to pronounce their d sentence in the words: ''I’ll have one.” The Chinese always buy fowls because they prefer the flavi freshly-killed birds. Alive, the 1 run about forty cents a pound and price includes killing and cleaning.

With a big fat duck still warm ii basket, Mrs. Hsueh hurries h washes the duck and sets several ke of water to boil. She then scalds duck until its skin wrinkles, coa with a thick paste of honey and sauce and hangs it overnight in cooler—a screened cavity in the oui wall which admits air but neither shine nor flies.

''A refrigerator is no good,” shef 'Tt kills the flavor.”

Mrs. Hsueh spends Saturday ni ing chopping the vegetables that wi served with the duck. In the eve she takes the duck from the co lines its insides with a seasoninj mixed spices to which three pieci star aniseed and three teaspoonful salt have been added. The dud then tied up in a big brown pi bag. Inside Mrs. Hsueh’s conventu stove there is a hook fitted so that can hang the duck from it. ''If you

put it on a rack,” she says, "it doesn’t cook evenly all over.”

The stove is then turned up to full heat. The honey-coated skin roasts into a deep golden brown and heaves away from the flesh. "I cannot tell you how long to keep the duck in the stove,” says Mrs. Hsueh, "because every bird seems to vary. I just go by my nose.”

When it is cooked, she removes the crisp skin from the carcass and cuts it into strips about half an inch wide and two inches long. They look like pieces of brown shoe leather. At the table guests take a sliver of skin, place it on a piece of steamed bread with a strip of spring onion, fold the bread over into a sandwich and pop it into the mouth. Immediately they understand why the ancient mandarins always ate nothing but duck skin and left the flesh to the servants.

But Mrs. Hsueh is unwilling to be so extravagant. The juicy flesh, sometimes served with big shrimps wrapped in bacon, is the main course. The last course consists of the pieces of bone to which flesh is adhering. These taste faintly of the aniseed and are delectable. Afterwards, Mrs. Hsueh puts the head and feet of the duck into a soup. The beak and the feet give soup a gelatinous consistency that is almost as good as that from bird’s nest or shark’s fin.

"The preparation of the duck and the chopping of the vegetables takes a lot of time,” says Mrs. Hsueh, "but we Chinese women always remember that Confucius ordered his wife out of the house because she was too impatient to cook properly.”

Mrs. George Lam of Vancouver, the wife of a wealthy Chinese market gardener, canner and grocer, was born in this country and serves western food for breakfast and lunch to save time. But dinner is always cooked in Chinese style. "Food,” she says, "is a tradition that even third and fourth generation Canadian Chinese hang onto.”

At home Mrs. Lam is hostess to many Occidental guests. Occasionally, they toy apprehensively with some of the more curious ingredients of her dishes, especially such things as Ears of Wood, a tree fungus, Golden Needles, which are dried lilies, and Maiden’s Hair, a seaweed that resembles a ball of steel wool. Most Occidentals also turn pale at the thought of Hundred Year Old eggs. These eggs from China, preserved in a paste of lime and salt, are fairly spectacular when opened. The whites are bright green and the yokes are deep crimson. "Actually,” says Mrs. Lam, "they’re only about a hundred days old.”

Generally speaking, however, Occidental guests relish Mrs. Lam’s cooking and many of them try her recipes out in their own homes.

Mrs. Mary Mah, a Canadian Chinese widow who runs a gown shop in Vancouver, also entertains frequently. One of her most popular dishes is liver and shrimps. She shells two pounds of raw big shrimps and cuts them down the centre of the back without splitting the belly and then places them to one side. Then she puts an ounce of dried mushrooms to soak in water. Next she chops up four ounces of chicken livers, two ounces of spring onions and half an ounce of green ginger. Liver, onions and ginger then go into a bowl, not mixed but lightly placed in contact with one another. Over these little heaps Mrs. Mah then pours a glass of wine and leaves them to stand for a while and absorb each other’s flavor.

While this is going on, she makes a sauce of four tablespoons of water, two teaspoons of starch, one teaspoon of soya sauce, one teaspoon of glutamate, and half a teaspoon of salt. This also

is left to stand for a while.

Now Mrs. Mah removes the chicU livers from the bowl, rolls them in: little starch and fries them in d«? peanut oil. Then she does the sac with the shrimps. Both are then left] a warm dish. Next she takes a b skillet, or a deep preserving pan, a: shallow fries in sesame oil the ging* onions and mushrooms. At the la minute she adds the shrimps and liv* the sauce, and finally the wine, mij. the whole lot together, and serves.

Roy Adah, one of her bachelor rej fives, who publishes the semi-montli English - language paper Chinatw News, also cooks for guests on 1 orthodox apartment house stove. { specializes in Chicken Velvet. He gt half a pound of breast meat from freshly killed chicken, chops it up ft and adds a teaspoon of water to ke the mince moist. The chicken then go into a bowl with one teaspoon of d cornstarch, a little pepper and sa and an unbeaten egg white. He stirsi the mixture, slowly adding a quarl cup of water until it is smooth. Th he breaks in four more eggs, beats f whites stiff, and adds them lightly the chicken mixture until it becomes fluffy paste. He heats half a cup peanut oil in a big skillet and dro balls of the chicken mixture into They congeal and turn a light brow Then Roy drains them. In a sauceps he heats one tablespoon of sesame ¡ and pours into it half a cup of ri chicken broth, half a tablespoon wine and a pinch of salt. When this boiling Roy thickens it with a pal of half a teaspoon of cornstarch d solved in a little water. He then ad the fried chicken balls for just lo enough to re-heat them through. T whole mixture is then poured into a di and served with a little minced hi sprinkled on the top.

Secret of a Longer Life

A few Chinese dishes can be cook in a matter of minutes. When Sus Woo is called upon by her four broth to make them a quick snack, she oft decides on Meat Fu Yung. She cl some thin strips from one ofO lumps of barbecued pork, which ¡ obtainable at Chinese delicatesse and fast fries these for about hall minute in very hot peanut oil, addin] few spring onions and stirring constal ly to keep from burning. Then she pi the pork to one side on a warm pla Now she takes eight eggs, beats them half a cup of water, one teaspoon salt, and one tablespoon of soya sau Into this mixture she then stirs the po: onions and one cup of bean sprou Susan then pours the mixture into big skillet and fries it, turning it o1 in the usual way for omelettes. Th is a critical moment when the mixti is fully congealed, a light yellow color and still moist. That’s wli Susan folds the omelette over, cuts into four pieces and rushes it to t table.

After a day’s nursing at theO eral Hospital, Susan sometimes fir Chinese cooking a long and exacti task. But she says she always gath strength from this translation from 1 Chinese philosopher Mencius:

"Those who make a hobby of th cooking live ten years longer th those who look upon it as a tireso duty ... A varied and succulent d lends lustre to the skin, sparkle to 1 eyes, vigor to the muscles and seren to the mind.” ★


Subscribers receiving notice of th approaching expiration of their subscrip tions are reminded of the necessity o sending in their renewal orders promptly