I think what made my grandmother such a good instinctive cook, despite having spent a large portion of her life outside the kitchen–much of the time playing mah jhong apparently–was that she was a savvy eater who knew how to sniff out great food. It wouldn’t take her long to suss out the best market for fish, where to procure the freshest cuts of meat and the liveliest chickens, which of course, back in the 70’s and 80’s before the great Asian expansion to the South Bay, was in Chinatown. Yeah, she was one of those feisty (some would say aggressive) little old Chinese ladies who’d elbow you to get a seat on the 30 Stockton bus, thwacking you with her pink plastic shopping bags fully loaded with not quite dead fish, bunches of greens, and hunks of raw pork.

Don’t let the coiffed updo, formfitting chong sam and petite frame fool you. This woman could move!

Bus rides with Grandma or Pau Pau were legendary, as my cousin Jen can attest–she might’ve been the only other grandchild besides myself to witness our grandmother in action. No matter how many people were waiting at the stop, she’d somehow slip in between them, get onboard and secure a seat before you realized she’d disappeared. After politely letting the senior riders push ahead of her, Jen was slightly mortified to find Grandma furiously flagging her down to take the seat she’d saved next to her amidst much side-eye from other passengers. That was nothing compared to my embarrassment–though now in hindsight I have to admit it was pretty badass–when Grandma (who was in her mid 80’s) decided to run after a bus that had just about pulled away from the stop, waving her handbag and hollering at the bus driver to stop. She must’ve chased him down for a good half a block when he finally stopped and stuck his head out the window, shook his head in disbelief, exclaiming “What the hell lady! Are you f******g crazy?” then opened the door and waited for us to get on. Needless to say, public transportation with Grandma was never boring.

The same could be said about our dining adventures, particularly in Chinatown. When we first arrived in SF, Cantonese food dominated the scene, with a few exceptions like the high-end Mandarin Restaurant at the Cannery.

Always on the look out for more authentic regional cuisine, Grandma found this crowded little hole in the wall Hunan restaurant in Chinatown. With the promise of minced pork and bean sauce noodles, scallion pancakes, and sweet glutinous rice dumplings, the two us set off on a gastronomic adventure.

Per usual Grandma forcefully made her way into the crowded restaurant and plunked herself down at the counter…next to a couple who looked like they were about to cash out. As soon as they got up, Grandma stealthly slid onto one of the vacated seats and motioned me to take over hers. We were already looking at the menus before the server had a chance to clear away the dirty dishes. Since there were only the two of us, we stuck to our original game plan and ordered the three previously agreed upon dishes to share.

The noodles came in a large ceramic bowl, ladened with a thick blanket of minced fatty pork and bean sauce, slightly sweet with a hint of spice (my request), with a healthy mound of thinly julienned cucumbers.

Grandma tossed everything together with her chopsticks, evenly distributing the meat, sauce and vegetables throughout the noodles. We took our first bites and agreed that this noodle dish was legit. It was going to be a rich carb-loaded lunch but I was so hungry I wasn’t pacing myself, happily slurping and inhaling my second bowl of noodles before the scallion pancakes arrived.

I’d had scallion pancakes a few times before, usually at restaurants specializing in Mandarin or Taiwanese cuisine. They were usually on the thinner side and lightly fried. Mom would sometimes make a “cheater’s” version at home by layering chopped scallions in between 3 layers of flour tortilla, which were brushed with beaten egg, and lightly pan-frying the stack until crispy. These, however, were different–thicker, a little greasier, fried to a golden brown. I should point out that the literal translation of scallion pancake is “scallion oil cake.”

The crispy layers shattered into flakes, oil coated my lips as I bit through to the chewy center full of fragrant scallions. .”They’re good aren’t they?” Grandma commented with a grin. “Worth the trek down here.” I nodded in agreement, mouth full, on my third piece. By the time our server set down the sweet rice dumplings with black sesame, the scallion pancakes were gone.

Stuffed as I was, the sight of those milk white orbs floating in sweet ginger-scented syrup activated my “second” dessert stomach.

Grandma used to make savory glutinous rice dumplings once in awhile at home, but rarely the sweet ones. Those were usually reserved for restaurant outings, like this. These days you can easily find a plethora of sweet dumpling flavors in the frozen food section of Asian markets, though nothing compares to having them made fresh.

The ones we ordered were plump and full of pureed black sesame which oozed out when I bit into the soft dumpling wrapper, filling my mouth with its sweet toasty aroma–another winner.

Grandma and I went back to that slightly dingy little Hunan restaurant several times after that, once with my aunt and once with my mom. Having a third person meant we could try another dish or two…but we always stuck to our favorites–scallion pancakes and sweet glutinous rice dumplings with black sesame.

The recipe for Scallion Pancakes can be made in a food processor, just pulse to work the hot and room temperature waters into the flour to form a rough dough, then let it sit in the processor bowl to rest for 15 mins. before continuing to pulse in 5 second intervals until you get a smooth, elastic dough. Also you can use more or less scallions to your liking, sprinkle in toasted sesame seeds for added texture and flavor if you want. I rolled out my pancakes to about 1/4″ thickness but you can roll them out thicker if you plan on loading them up with more scallions.

Scallion Pancakes

Yield: 5-6 pancakes

• 2 3/4 c. all-purpose flour, divided
• 2 1/2 t. sugar
• 1 t. sea salt
• 1/2 c. boiling hot water
• 1/4 c. room temperature water
• 1/4 c. neutral oil, plus more for frying
• 1 t. sesame oil
• 1/2 t. 5-spice powder
• 4-5 large scallions, chopped

1. In a medium bowl, combine 2 1/2 c. flour, sugar, and salt. Make a well in the center.
2. Pour the hot water in the center and begin mixing to hydrate flour, then add the room temperature water and continue mixing to form a shaggy dough. *Might need to add another tablespoon of hot water if mixture still seems too dry.
3. Knead to form a dough mass. Let the dough rest covered for about 10-15 mins. to relax the glutens a little. Continue kneading until dough is smooth and elastic. Cover dough and let it rest for 30-60 mins.
4. While dough is resting, whisk together remaining 1/4 c. flour with 1/4 c. neutral and 1 t. sesame oil in a sauté pan on medium heat. Cook the roux for 2-3 mins. until it becomes a thickish paste. Stir in 5-spice powder. Cool to room temperature.
5. Divide dough into 5-6 equal portions. Keeping unused portions covered, roll out each piece into a rectangle about 1/8″ thick. Brush an even layer of roux on the surface and liberally sprinkle on scallions.
6. Roll the dough into a pinwheel log, then with the seam side facing in, roll the log into a coil, tucking in the ends.
7. Flatten the coil into a disk and roll it out on a surface lightly dusted with flour. If you want to freeze the pancakes, roll the disks out onto squares of parchment paper. stack them and wrap in plastic.
8. Fry each pancake in a liberal amount of oil on medium heat until crispy and golden brown on both sides. Set the pancakes on a rack to drain off excess oil.

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Sweet Glutinous Rice Dumplings

Yield: about 24-30 pieces

Black Sesame Filling:

• 2/3 c. black sesame powder
• 1/4 c. pecans or walnuts, toasted
• 5 T. sugar
• 1/4 c. melted unsalted butter
• 1 T. water
• 1/4 t. toasted sesame oil
• pinch of sea salt

1. In a processor or blender, finely ground nuts and sugar, then add remaining ingredients and blend until smooth.
2. Pour the mixture into a square container, lined with plastic wrap. Should have about 1/2″ deep filling. Freeze until solid.
3. Unmold the frozen filling and cut into 24-30 squares. Roll each piece into a small ball. Return the balls to the freezer until ready to use.

Dough:

• 2 c. glutinous rice flour
• 1/2 c. + 1 T. boiling hot water
• 1/4 c. + 2 t. water, room temperature

1. Place the rice flour in a medium bowl. Make a well in the center.
2. Pour the hot water in the center and stir to hydrate the flour, then add the remaining water and continue stirring to form a dough.
3. Knead the dough until smooth, then cover and let it rest for at least 30 mins.
4. On a surface lightly dusted with cornstarch, roll the dough out into a long rope and divide evenly into 24-30 portions.
5. To fill and form rice balls, roll each piece into a ball, flatten slightly, then, using you thumb and forefinger, shape it into a cup.
6. Place a ball of filling in the center, then with your dominant hand gently squeeze the sides up and around the ball in the crook between your thumb and forefinger.
7. Pinch to seal the edges, then roll the ball between your hands to form a round sphere. Dumplings can be frozen on a sheet pan are this point if you want, then bagged once solid.
8. To cook, lower the dumplings in batches into rapidly boiling water. Agitate the water occasionally to keep them from sticking to one another. Let them boil for a minute longer once they’ve floated to the surface.
9. Serve them with warm sweet ginger syrup.

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Sweet Ginger Syrup

• 1 c. sugar
• 1 1/4 c. water
• 2″ fresh ginger, peeled, sliced into 1/8′ thick coins

1. Combine sugar and water in a pot and bring to a boil, stirring just until sugar is dissolved.
2. Add the ginger, then simmer the syrup for about 3-4 mins. Turn off heat and let the ginger steep covered for 5 mins.
3. Remove the ginger.