flavor of the month
Macanese Magic By Stephy Chung
CHINA WEEKLY I March 2014
Photo by Robin Fall
T
he term "fusion cuisine" has been abused in recent years. I get particularly annoyed at what some "hip" eateries are dreaming up in order to slap this moniker on their menus. Take the Ramen Burger for example. It was last summer's New York hit - a carb-heavy abomination that swapped the All-American bun for two pan-fried cakes of instant Japanese ramen. This, I suppose, was the coming together of two cultures? I am surprised that Macanese - a genuine example of fusion cuisine from Macau - is not more famous outside Asia. For far too long, it has lived in the shadow of nearby Hong Kong’s many Cantonese specialties. But as this tropical peninsula, the Las Vegas of Asia, quickly becomes one of China's hottest tourist destinations, its culinary profile is sure to rise. A former Portuguese colony, Macau is one of China's two Special Administrative Regions, and now home to the world's largest gambling economy. Gaming alone accounts for 50 percent of GDP. To the casual observer, gamblers here seem much more serious than the ones found on the Las Vegas Strip. It's common to see Chinese businessmen grip their cards tight, chain smoke, and somberly and soberly sip tea. Alcohol is seen as a distraction, and, bizarrely, thick slabs of buttered toast are the preferred snack at the tables. I much prefer spending my time outdoors - where the food is cheaper and prepared with less fanfare. On foot, Macau still feels quite European in parts, with its bilingual signage, mosaic tile plazas and charming colonial architecture. Alongside Mediterranean stucco bloom dim sum cafes, wet markets, ancient Buddhist temples, and the general sprawl of Chinese city planning. Food in Macau also dips in and out of East and West. Portuguesestyle egg tarts, now an institution throughout China, can be purchased hot from the oven. Dried salt cod or bacalhau dangle next to sweet Chinese jerk sausages, or lap cheong, which hang like upsidedown bouquets of scarlet-pink orchids. Portuguese and Chinese residents have lived side-by-side for over 400 years, allowing culinary cultures to commingle, with popular ingredients including chili pepper and tomatoes from the Americas, cinnamon and cloves from the East Indies, turmeric and cumin from India, soy sauce and star anise from China, and, naturally, Portuguese wine. Seafood from the harbor provided the essential local source of protein. Finding genuine Macanese cuisine was harder than I had imagined. Since the handover, restaurants tend to swing one way or the other, and it’s either very traditional Portuguese favorites or joints that stick to Cantonese or other Chinese regional cuisines. With no particular destination in mind, we settled on one more promisingly named "Taste Macau." Two things drew us in. The laminated, faded photos of dishes taped
onto the walls revealed curried crabs and stir fries. And then, there was the slightly cocky chef, who when asked if he served Macanese-style food claimed he had held onto secret family recipes from the 60s. He said he'd bring out some classics. To start, was minchi, Macau's “national dish”. It’s basically meat and potatoes with an Asian twist. The beef and pork was minced, spiced with cumin, soy and Worcestershire sauces, stir-fried with potatoes and served over white rice. Topped with a fried egg, its reminiscent of a Korean bibimbap, and is tastiest when all parts and juices are mixed together. The green soup, or caldo verde, was a glorified chicken soup. The Macanese version stayed true to its Portuguese roots - the broth was thick with mashed potatoes and livened up with chewy slices of smoked sausage. The kale however was swapped with baby bok choy leaves, and the addition of ginger gave each spoonful a nice little zing. The next dish, the African chicken, looked sloppy to eat, but its flavors were top notch. The grilled chicken was slightly blackened, yielding a crisp, sticky skin, and well-marinated with a Peri-Peri-style mix of garlic and hot chillies. The highlight was the creamy sauce that coated the dish. It was a thick blend of roasted tomato, coconut milk, peanuts, and white wine, whipped together to a savory, slightly curried gravy. The baked seafood rice was deliciously salty. It was the chef's take on baked duck rice after he ran out of duck. Small sardines and squid were sautéed in an oily brown sauce of peppers and caramelized onions, poured over a thin layer of rice, and then baked in a clay pot greased with pork fat, which helped create a buttery crust as in a good paella. Overall, I did feel as if I had a good first "taste" of Macau. The effortless swap of ingredients and spices in Macanese dishes is fusion, done right.
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