Sichuan’s Ninth Great Bowl

I rarely eat in my dreams. Even when I have been capable of lucid dreaming, I never recall eating. I do daydream, however—constantly—about the creamy, succulent slices of pork belly layered like so many perfect pleats across a steaming bed of Yibin yacai in traditional Sichuan 咸烧白 (xiánshāobái). Xianshaobai is a prayer sung in pork fat (too much lean meat and the magic disappears): classic, class-defying comfort food. No one is above xianshaobai.

Xianshaobai is regional, like dumplings and 粽子 (zòngzi): The exact composition and style may vary, but the structure and preparation are beholden to the same narrow, recognizable formula. Popularized by coastal regions as 梅菜扣肉 (méicài kòuròu), steamed pork belly over some variation of preserved mustard stem stretches back centuries. Yunnan too makes its own version called 千张肉 (qiānzhāngròu). But with shelf-friendly packets of Yibin yacai that don’t require soaking and rehydrating like dry meicai, Sichuan xianshaobai (“hanshaobai” in dialect) is not just nolstalgic, it’s also more accessible.

Xianshaobai is an important part of Sichuan’s 九大碗 (jiǔdàwǎn), colloquially 九斗碗 (jiǔdòuwǎn), translated as “Nine Great Bowls.” Jiudouwan gatherings are a rural folk banquet tradition for weddings, births, elderly birthdays and other such commemorative occasions. These originated in fields where a whole village could gather, cook and celebrate together. In Sichuan dialect, “dou” means a large container, so “nine bucket bowls” references the abundance of food at these events.

From my research, it appears the “碗” in 九大碗 is short for “蒸碗” (zhēngwǎn), a type of clay bowl used for steaming. Historically, jiudouwan banquets boasted all manner of steamed chicken, pork, beef and other personally farmed meat dishes, along with the requisite accompaniment of whatever fresh vegetables were on hand. Some people even say that unless the three main steamed bowls of 粉蒸肉 (fěnzhēngròu), xianshaobai and 甜烧白 (tiánshāobái) are included, it is still simply a rich meal—not a proper jiudouwan banquet. (In the meatless past days, these three steamed dishes may have been more like taro, eggplant and potatoes.) Tianshaobai is like a sugary-sweet version of xianshaobai, served atop a mound of sweet sticky rice that replaces the bed of yacai.

At these banquets, xianshaobai is often the last dish served of the nine main (i.e., meat) dishes. Make no mistake, there could be dozens more side dishes than the titular nine great bowls.

Choosing Ingredients for Xianshaobai

Because xianshaobai is a time-consuming dish to prepare, it’s more often reserved for holidays or special occasions. Therefore, when we do make it, I appreciate the excuse to pull out some nice stuff. Particularly in a dish with so few ingredients involved, quality counts and makes a noticeable difference. (Although nothing replaces good technique—keep reading!)

For this recipe, you’ll need a Chinese light and dark soy sauce. I pulled the super-premium handstirred Zhongba light soy sauce as a special touch, but feel free to use the 360 everyday version, my usual go-to. Either of these are already dramatically better than any soy sauce you’ll find elsewhere (just look at the reviews). Similarly, the Pearl River Bridge in (the back of) my pantry hasn’t seen the light of day since The Mala Market started carrying Zhongba’s dark soy sauce. Especially with dark soy, a little goes a long way.

Yibin 碎米芽菜 (suìmǐyácài) makes up the bulk of this dish’s non-pork belly portion. Pickled yacai are the product of drying, salting and double-fermenting the tender stems of mustard greens, but our consumer-ready package with pre-minced stems is known as suimiyacai, “broken rice” yacai. We love these packets because they usually go straight from the pantry to the wok for stir-fry dishes, no soaking or rinsing required. For this dish, we do rinse extra salt out of the mustard greens because it’s used in greater volume as the vegetable bed, not just a seasoning, and would taste disproprotionately salty without doing so.

Sichuan’s fermented black soybeans, 豆豉 (dòuchǐ), are plump, moist “umami bombs” we add to the saucy yacai base for a concentrated kick of flavor that stands up against the fatty pork belly. Unlike the dried Cantonese varieties that require rinsing before use, these are also ready to go straight from the bag.

Most importantly, select a wide strip of pork belly with as many even layers of meat and fat as possible. This isn’t always possible, but if you’re choosing between several strips, keep it in mind.

Begin by washing and rinsing the yacai two to three time until water runs mostly clear. You may also let it soak for a couple minutes to remove more of the saltiness if desired. Drain and set aside to dry while you process the pork belly.

Processing and Parboiling the Pork Belly

This is where it starts to get involved! Traditionally, there are two ways to burn the skin: 1) with an open flame, like a blow torch, and 2) in a pan on the stove. This step is important for removing residual hair, removing the pig smell from the skin, and giving the cooked meat a better “layered” taste.

In a hot wok or skillet, dry-sear the skin side of the pork belly until it darkens and bubbles up. Use chopsticks or tongs to sweep the pork belly continuously around the wok as it sears to prevent sticking. Depan the meat and scrape off the burnt hair and dark surface with the edge of a large knife under lukewarm running water (sink water is fine).

Add cold water and rinsed pork belly to a large pot. Bring to a boil and then add ginger slices, scallion, whole huajiao and cooking wine. Simmer gently over low heat, covered, for 20-25 minutes. Check that the skin side is easily penetrable with a chopstick through to the middle. Cook only to 90% doneness, when meat is no longer pink but still exudes some bloody fluids when pressed into with the chopstick. If the meat is not adequately cooked at this step, the skin will also be undercooked, resulting in tougher skin upon frying later.

Working quickly, remove cooked pork belly to plate or cutting board and let pot cool off the heat, saving cooking water for soaking step. Wipe excess oil from skin surface with a paper towel. Holding three toothpicks together like a stippling brush, poke the skin all over so color can better penetrate. Work about ½ tablespoon of dark soy sauce (more or less as needed) into the warm stippled skin by hand and let sit 5 minutes, skin side up, to absorb the coloring. The skin will not take up color as well once cooled or over-greased.

Frying the Pork Belly

Add caiziyou to wok or skillet so there is roughly ½ centimeter of oil for shallow frying. Heat raw caiziyou to smoking (not needed if subbing other oil), about 410°F (210°C), then turn heat down low and let cool briefly to about 360°F (180°C). 

Be prepared with a pan lid or splatter guard—frying WILL cause splattering. Holding the lid in one hand, use a long spatula or pair of tongs to slide in (do not drop!) pork belly skin-side down. Fry for 20-60 seconds or until skin is bubbling and wrinkled, using the spatula to sweep the pork belly around so it doesn’t stick. Remove once fried, return to the pot of warm cooking water and let soak for 10-20 minutes.

Drain as much of the oil as you wish, leaving behind a thin coating (at least a tablespoon’s worth) to stir-fry the yacai in.

Pro tip: Don’t discard the caiziyou! It’s already been smoked off and the frying process is relatively gentle, so save it for the next time you cook. Because it’s been smoked off, it’s also perfect for adding to other dishes (think: noodles!) when you want the flavor of the roasted rapeseed oil but don’t want to heat up a portion of oil just to finish something off.

While meat soaks, prepare the preserved yacai topping and the sauce. Reheat the wok and add drained yacai; stir-fry until fragrant, 1-2 minutes. Add douchi, chopped paojiao (pickled chili) or Thai chili, and ½ teaspoon sugar. Stir-fry another 30 seconds, then set aside. 

Make the sauce by mixing 1½ tablespoons light soy sauce, remaining ½ tablespoon dark soy sauce, remaining ½ teaspoon sugar and optional splash of baijiu in a medium bowl. Set aside.

Slice the soaked pork belly (skin side down) into pieces no more than ½ centimeter thick (slices in photo are a little thicker than optimal). Toss the slices in the sauce to coat, and arrange in 1-2 rows in a shallow steaming bowl, skin-side down. Traditionally there are 8 wide slices layered in one row with 1 slice on either side for a total of 10 slices, but with the strip-sized pork belly sold in the U.S., you will likely need to arrange as 16 narrow slices in two rows.

Add a couple whole huajiao to garnish, then top with the yacai. Pour any remaining sauce over the yacai. Garnish with the chopped paojiao and ginger slices and additional whole huajiao if desired.

Finally, fill a steamer with enough water to steam the pork belly over a steaming rack for 70-80 minutes. If using a pressure cooker, allow pressure to release naturally after 70 minutes.

While the pork belly steams, wash and drain the bok choy. Blanch them in a pot of boiling water for 1-2 minutes. Strain the bok choy and keep warm and covered until the pork belly is done steaming.

Carefully lift the bowl from the steamer and flip onto a plate by covering the bowl with the plate, grasping tightly, and turning upside down. Line with bok choy greens and re-cover the bowl to keep warm until ready to serve.

For another great homestyle banquet dish, try Kathy’s Pressure Cooker Fenzhengrou (Rice-Steamed Pork Ribs)!