The average home cook, it turns out, has only about a dozen rotating specialties in his or her repertoire. Pot roast, meatloaf, spaghetti, you know the drill. This type of déjà vu dining becomes especially depressing in March. While the lucky few fly away to warmer climes and snack on fresh tropical fruit, the rest of us feel sentenced to a state of not-yet-spring, in which we’d rather eat a travel brochure than another baked chicken. Seeking out the fresh and new may seem daunting, especially as you lie on the sofa with the television clicker on your belly, but there is hope—inside the Asian markets scattered throughout the Twin Cities.
Asian markets offer glimpses into other worlds, right when you need them most. For those who shop at them regularly, this is hardly a revelation. But if you are like I once was (hugely aware of my tendency to stammer when I don’t know how to ask for something, and frightened to death of being offensive), just stepping through their doors can seem daunting. It turns out that all it takes to get over yourself is one trip to Shuang Hur or Duc Loi. You’ll be mesmerized by the tightly packed shelves of interesting ingredients and overwhelmed by the hospitality of the people who work there. In an effort to reveal the delights of these and other local Asian markets, I undertook a whirlwind shopping spree with friend and food expert JD Fratzke, the head chef at Muffaletta Café in St. Paul.
One of the best things about Asian markets is the availability of fresh and unusual herbs and leaves. You’ll find, likely near the vegetables, generous bunches of herbs that are less expensive than the plastic-boxed sprigs at the average grocery. Some of the most common are garlic chives (gow choy), which have a grassy top and pungent smell, and sweet Asian basil (bai horapha), with its slight anise flavor. More exciting are the leaves—la-lot leaves, kaffir lime leaves, and sword-shaped pandan leaves—which can be used to wrap fish and meats while they steam.
Oddly shaped roots are also plentiful. JD proved once and for all that beauty lies within when he snapped open a squat, dirt-covered water chestnut root to reveal its perfectly creamy white inner flesh. The basics include taro root, a starchy tuber that acts like a potato but with a slightly sweeter flavor; spicy galangal, a member of the ginger family commonly used in Thai cuisine; and jicama, tumeric, ginger, and lotus roots. A tip from JD: If you’re looking for bamboo shoots, go easy on yourself and buy the ones that have already been peeled and rinsed.
Enthralling, but confusing, are the many varieties of leafy greens. Of course there’ll be bok choy on hand, but why not try gai larn (Chinese broccoli) instead? The stems make a vibrant side dish, chopped and flash boiled in salted water. Choy sum is a flowering cabbage often crowned with little yellow buds; both the leaves and stems can be thrown into a stir-fry. Water spinach (kangkung), with its long, narrow leaves, is best wilted in olive oil with a bit of garlic.
The meat cases in Asian markets are packed with the usual cuts of beef and pork, alongside more unusual offerings like pigs’ feet and snouts, beef stomachs, and what JD calls the Asian movie snack: chicken feet. Fish can be found frozen and whole or sliced and marinated in a traditional spicy chili paste. Many markets offer cooked meats like HOFO duck (head on feet on), or barbecued hog. Both make for very easy meals.
One of the best treasure troves of all is the frozen foods section. Surprises from the far reaches of the globe can be found behind the glass doors: bags of pond snails, packets of air-dried fish, cases of quail eggs, boxes of Chinese sausages. Great deals can be had on bags of frozen mussels, scallops, shrimp, and other seafood. JD laughed aloud when he saw the same brand of frozen shrimp sold to his restaurant sitting on a shelf for markedly less. The big winner for me is the variety of dim sum treats. It’s so very nice not to have to leave home for a steamy breakfast of bao buns.
Of course, the basics would only get you so far without the aisles and aisles of vinegars, sauces, noodles, rice papers, spices, canned lychees, and dried mushrooms. The selection of soy sauces alone can be exhilarating. JD is on the constant lookout for an exotic white soy sauce a fellow chef once lent him. The hunt is half the thrill. On one of our trips I found fine French butter, small production Taiwanese honey, and a can of bubblegum-flavored jackfruit.
Strategywise, JD recommends starting with a recipe and a list of ingredients. And never be afraid to ask questions, he says. While we stood, obviously confused, in front of a meat case, a sweet older Asian man motioned in a gesture of aid. After a few minutes of pointing and a mix of odd linguistics on all our parts, we at last learned via pantomime that the gelatinous mass we’d been eyeing was beef stomach. We all smiled and nodded, feeling lucky to be in Minnesota. Even in March.
United Noodles 2015 E. 24th St., Minneapolis, 612-721-6677
Shuang Hur 654 University Ave., St. Paul,
651-251-2196; 2710 Nicollet Ave., Minneapolis, 612-872-8606
Duc Loi 2429 Nicollet Ave., Minneapolis,
612-870-8684
M&A Food Store 721 Jackson St., St. Paul,
651-310-0109
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