Beef Chow Fun
"You know what they say about having your bed against a window?" - Mom
"No Mom, what do they say?" I asked, bracing myself for an outdated Chinese proverb.
"Well, I didn't want to say anything, I mean I'm sure that's not why," says Mom, trying to backpedal.
"Just tell me," I say, rolling my eyes.
"It's why you're single," she states, somewhat sheepishly.
The exchange occurred a few months ago, when Mom saw my Brooklyn apartment for the first time.
Her initial reaction wasn't, "It looks really nice," or, "It's not as small as you said." Instead, she uses it to explain my permanent state of singledom, desperate to figure out why I'm still on the market. (I'm actually surprised she didn't comment on my "lonely women art," namely a beautiful print gifted to me by the Guggenheim of a painting by Picasso...during his Blue Period...depicting a haggard woman ironing—placed so that it's the first and last thing I see while in bed.)
She cites the singleness of her two daughters as her greatest disappointment—after which I remind her that she didn't marry until 28, which if you factor in the time period and the fact that it's China, it's equivalent to about age 35 nowadays.
And she still replies with, "I really don't get it," and lists off all of our marriageable qualities, one of which is the ability to keep bae well fed...well, in so many words. And because she has given up on the notion that future Boo-boo will be Chinese, she reminds me to start with something simple and non-threatening, we'll say familiar, and always suggests beef chow fun. You know, so I don't scare him off. The woman needs more faith—as if I'd date anyone that'd be scared off by "strange" foods and "exotic" flavors.
But that also doesn't mean I wouldn't make basic dishes likes beef chow fun—I mean I still drink pumpkin spice lattes in the fall, so I'm not above basic bitch activities. And you know what? It's fucking delicious and I hope he'd enjoy it as much as he would douchi steamed ribs, and dare I hope—durian?
Prep: 40 minutes Cook: 15 minutes
INGREDIENTS (FOR 2)
PREPARE
1. Thinly slice the beef flank. Mix together the salt, 2 tsp of soy sauce, 2 tsp of oyster sauce, 1 tsp cooking wine, sugar, and corn starch to create the marinade. Combine with beef flank and set aside for 30 minutes.
2. Break apart the yu choy so that you don't toss in such large heads of the vegetable when you stir fry.
3. Separate out the flat noodles by pulling it apart and ripping it so that each noodle is about 1.5 inches wide.
4. Mince the garlic and chop the scallion.
COOK
1. Toss the noodles into a large pan or wok. Usually if you're getting the noodles fresh, it already has so much oil to keep it moist that you don't need any for the pan. But that's personal preference.
2. Add the yu choy and bean sprouts.
3. Stir in the rest of the soy and oyster sauce as well as the cooking wine. Mix well.
4. Fold the beef into the mixture and cook for another two minutes or until the beef is just slightly pink still.
5. Turn off the stove, toss in the chopped scallion, and let the residual heat finish cooking the dish.
EAT
Usually with any sort of lo mein or chow fun, we like pairing it with a bowl of congee—which is about as traditional as you can get, at least with such a mainstream dish. Also don't forget the sriracha, that's clutch.