This Dish’s Secret Ingredient Is a Compound Butter With an Unexpected Chinese Twist

Furu, or fermented bean curd, has been a staple on my family’s table in Sichuan for as long as I can remember. Growing up, we ate the salty, funky and sometimes spicy condiment in its simplest form: served alongside white congee or spread onto steamed mantou. Even now, living in Berlin, I keep a jar in the fridge at all times; it keeps almost indefinitely. On days when I make congee, I’ll fish out a cube of furu and squeeze some zhacai from a package and make a really simple meal with them that feels somehow deeply comforting. I don’t add the furu to the congee; instead, I like to scrape off just enough with my chopsticks to savor a bit of pungent, creamy intensity on its own, then wash it down with a spoonful of porridge.

Over the past two years, however, I’ve started using furu in new ways that give it a role beyond that of a trusted companion to rice. I stir it into leafy greens, use it to marinate meat and lean on it to enrich stews. My latest dish took this experimentation further still: I mashed it into butter and then melted the result over charred cabbage. The idea isn’t traditional, but the combination echoes the Asian-flavored butters you can now find everywhere. Gochujang, miso and even koji butters are suddenly showing up on restaurant menus and across the internet. If miso and gochujang work in a compound butter, why not furu?

If you’ve never tried it, fǔrǔ (腐乳), or dòufǔ rǔ (豆腐乳)—usually called fermented bean curd or  “Chinese cheese” in English—is a tofu-based condiment. It is made with firm tofu that is inoculated with mold, salted and left to ferment in a brine seasoned with rice wine, spices or red rice yeast. Over weeks (or months), the tofu becomes soft and spreadable, with a texture similar to soft cheeses like ricotta and a flavor that’s salty, faintly sweet and deeply savory. 

The practice of making furu dates back more than a thousand years, and there are a variety of  regional styles: White furu in brine or sesame oil is found all across the country, furu seasoned with chili flakes or chili oil is popular in southwestern China (particularly in Sichuan and Guizhou). Red furu seasoned with red rice yeast (also known as hóng fǔrǔ, 红腐乳 or nánrǔ, 南乳 [“southern” furu]) is a staple in Jiangnan and Cantonese cooking. And the more daunting green furu (qīngfāng, 青方) also known as “stinky tofu” (chòu dòufu, 臭豆腐) is mostly eaten in northern and parts of eastern China. (This is different than the “stinky tofu” you find grilled or fried in restaurants in Yunnan Province and other parts of China, though the two foods share a name.)

In Chinese cooking, furu is used to add depth, fragrance and sometimes creaminess to a wide range of dishes: stir-fried greens, marinades, braises and sauces can all be places to use it. Classic examples of dishes that get a nice bit of flavor from the addition of furu include braised pork belly (腐乳肉, fǔrǔ ròu), drunken shrimp (腐乳呛虾, fǔrǔ qiāngxiā) and Cantonese stir-fried water spinach with white furu (腐乳空心菜, fǔrǔ kōngxīncài). During a recent visit to the Jiangnan region, I savored two particularly memorable furu-infused dishes: braised pork belly in Shanghai and ribs in Hangzhou—both were cooked in a mixture of red furu, sugar and Shaoxing wine. In both instances, I was captivated by how these small cubes of bean curd could elevate each plate with complexity and umami. 

The inspiration for pairing furu and butter first came to me after seeing a Shanghai restaurant’s Red Note post, in which they roasted cabbage with a combination of furu and butter, and then again when I saw a post from food writer Lisa Lin, who uses white furu and chopped chives in a compound butter.

After several rounds of testing, I found that oven-roasting the cabbage brought out the best texture and flavor. Roasting brings out the natural sweetness of the cabbage while allowing the furu butter to better seep into the leaves, giving the dish a mildly funky, almost cheese-like flavor. If you’d like a more smoky, charred flavor, grilling or pan-searing the cabbage also works well; just brush the cabbage with oil first and add the butter later, so it doesn’t burn. 

I tested both white and red furu in this dish, and while both work (red furu is slightly sweeter), the more lightly seasoned white variety blends more smoothly into softened butter. (Furu packed in chili oil also works well if you’d like to give the dish a spicy kick.) Either way, the interplay of sweet cabbage and funky fermented tofu creates a dish with a unique depth and flavor that becomes far more than the sum of its parts. Serve it alongside a spread of Chinese meat dishes, or make the compound butter on its own, store it in the refrigerator, and use it as a playful addition for grilled vegetables throughout the summer season.

Making the Furu Butter

Start with softened butter at room temperature. (You can let it soften on the counter or use a microwave to speed up the process.) Mash the white furu in with a fork (or use red furu, if you want a touch of sweetness), tasting as you go. The goal is balance: The flavor should be rich and full of umami but not overwhelming. Different brands and regional styles vary widely in saltiness, so start with a small amount and see how the flavor develops. For the cabbage, you will want a strong flavor. However, if you want to enjoy this butter on bread, you can use less furu.

This butter keeps well in the fridge for up to one week, and once you have it, you can use it in all kinds of ways: Spread it on bread or mantou, add it to stir-fried greens or slather it over roasted corn, carrots or potatoes.

The Best Cabbage for Roasting With Furu Butter

When I started developing this recipe, I looked for a style of cabbage that was tender but sturdy enough to hold its crunch when roasted. My top pick is the cone-shaped variety known as “hispi” or “pointed” in the U.K. and “sweetheart” in the U.S. This German cultivar has recently become a favorite in restaurants but is just as easy to prepare at home. Its loose, delicate leaves absorb flavor beautifully. 

If you can’t find this particular variety, any green or white cabbage will work just as well. For larger round heads, cut them into smaller wedges, eight rather than four, to help them cook evenly. Napa cabbage is less ideal, as it tends to release too much moisture during roasting.

For more delicious ways to use furu, check out Taylor’s Stir-Fried Yu Choy With Fermented Tofu (Furu Yu Choy) and Kathy’s Chinese Sausage and Fermented Tofu Carbonara.