First two photos by Danny Pederson-Bradbury
Today is the first day of the Lunar New Year (also known as Chinese New Year, although it is also celebrated in parts or all of Vietnam, Korea, Tibet, and Mongolia). I started marking this holiday about a decade ago because a) the winters are very long here in Saskatchewan, and any extra excuse to do something special in January/February seems like a fine plan and b) I love the excuse to cook a big fun special meal for the family.
Those who celebrate this holiday usually have a big feast on New Year’s Eve. It worked out better for us to get together tonight, though, so I got started first thing this morning with the duck that I’d picked up from Pine View Farms on Saturday (that was the morning that it was -47C with the windchill–can you blame us for wanting a party?). After going over the bird and removing the remaining feathers/stems (ducks are notoriously difficult to pluck), I plunged it into a big pot of boiling water for a few minutes, then pulled it out, dried it, and basted it with a honey water mixture. Then I hung it up in the basement and turned the fan on it. It looked weird, but the only way to get a really crispy skin for Peking Duck is to make sure that it’s completely dry before you roast it. I left it to hang for over 5 hours–it’s best to leave it as long as possible, especially considering that you somehow still need to find time to make a whole whack of pancakes to wrap the duck in. I’ve tried a couple different recipes and methods and think there is just no getting round the fact that unless you can find someone to make them for you (or a store–please tell me if you find one that has them, because I’ve searched everywhere!), you’re just going to have to spend 1.5 hours in front of the stove making miniature pancakes if you really want to eat Peking Duck. Which I do, but this is probably why I don’t make it more than once a year.

Pancakes out of the way and covered with a damp cloth, I got started on the pork dumplings. I hadn’t planned on making these and was going to have a simple soup to start instead. But then I read about how it is considered especially good luck to eat jiaozi in Northern China for the New Year–so I threw caution to the winds and added them to the menu too. I didn’t have any wonton wrappers, so ended up making the wrappers from scratch for the first time (I’d actually never made dumplings before either). This was a mildly insane decision, but I followed these nicely detailed and extremely amusing instructions, making the filling out of ground pork (Pine View Farms), ginger, cabbage, and green onion, and rolling out 48 pastry discs (“GO FORTH! MAKE DISCS! TILL YOUR ARMS FALL OFF!”), then filling them, pinching them shut (which locks the luck in, apparently), and steaming them before serving with soy sauce for dipping. They really weren’t hard to make at all, but they just took A. Very. Long. Time. Pre-made wrappers would save time and energy. I would definitely make them again, and would probably even do my own wrappers, but would also put the rest of the family to work to speed things up, assembly-line style.
Back in the 1970s, my mom and grandma took a Chinese cooking class from a friend’s father who shared his yummy recipe for sweet and sour pork (it’s brown, not that scary bright red colour). It has become a family favourite, so I also whipped up a batch of that to go with some side/back ribs from Pine View. This made a lot of meat dishes for one meal, but it also produced a lot of leftovers, so I was able to give some to my grandma so that she wouldn’t have to cook tomorrow. It also meant that I wouldn’t have to cook tomorow, which was good, because by this point, I was starting to get fairly serious kitchen fatigue. I don’t know where the guy in Eat Drink Man Woman found the energy (note: that link is not for the squeamish)!
To go with the rice and spareribs (we ate the two previous dishes as separate courses), I also stirfried a big batch of vegetables in soy sauce, sherry, and sesame oil. Usually I would have done another vegetable dish, but after going all out on the dumplings, I figured we had more than enough food already and could eat salad tomorrow. It’s considered unlucky to cook white food on New Year’s Day (it’s the colour associated with death), so I used green ones instead, including locally-grown pea shoots (and a bit of garlic, shh, don’t tell). I left the pea shoots long because long leafy greens signify long life and are considered lucky too. They were actually quite fun to eat that way; rather like spaghetti, and they tasted just like spring.
The grown-ups drank Tsingtao beer (oops, I forgot to offer the green tea), and for dessert there were baby mandarin oranges (also lucky) and fortune cookies. I had planned to make ox- and goldfish-shaped cookies in honour of the day but simply ran out of time. Rather hilariously, my fortune read, ‘TAKE PAINS TO PREVENT GETTING COMPLETELY EXHAUSTED’. Ok, I won’t cook like that every day, I promise!
Chinese New Year Feast
- Pork dumplings (jiaozi), made with green local cabbage, green onion, ginger
- Peking Duck pancakes, served with green onion and cucumber strips and duck sauce
- Sweet and sour pork ribs
- Stirfried green vegetables (broccoli, organic celery, green onion, pea shoots, garlic)
- plain rice
- Mandarin oranges and fortune cookies
- Tsingtao beer/green tea
Mr Chan’s sweet and sour pork ribs
- about 2 racks (1.5lbs) of pork spare ribs (it’s also nice with chicken wings/drumsticks)
- 1/2 tsp ginger
- 1/2 tsp dry mustard
- 1/4 tsp garlic salt
- 4 tsp cornstarch
- 1 tsp salt
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/3 cup vinegar
- 4Tb dark soy sauce
- 2 cups water
Mix together. Brown ribs, drain off fat and pour sauce over ribs. Bring to a boil and immediately reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 2 hours.