The first thing that people think about when the subject of cooking mustard greens (芥菜) comes up is that they are bitter. It is also a major crop at this time of year, and a fantastic source of all kinds of nutrients and health benefits. The general association with mustard greens is as a preserved vegetable that becomes briefly ubiquitous during the Lunar New Year period, when it is a standard part of the New Year dinner because it is also known as “long-life vegetable” (長年菜), which is the kind of auspicious association that guarantees nomination on menus for festive occasions.
There are two ways of dealing with the issue of bitterness. One is to find ways of reducing it through long cooking, salting or blanching. Or you can embrace it, making it an integral part of your flavor palate. Both approaches can produce excellent food, though the almost obsessive need that some celebrity chefs feel to obliterate any trace of bitterness from an inherently bitter vegetable is nothing short of perverse.
The wide-ranging use of mustard greens is reflected in the many names by which it is known: Indian mustard, Chinese mustard and leaf mustard being the most common. It is hugely versatile, ranging in applications from stir-fries to stews.
Photo: Ian Bartholomew
Though once widely appreciated for their flavor, mustard greens have fallen out of favor as modern food culture has shifted away from an appreciation of bitterness. In the west, there seems to be an incipient resurgence, at least among foodies, with the emergence of bitter artisanal IPA beers and a renewed appreciation of Italian bitter aperitifs such as Fernet Braca. Arugula is also making it back into more adventurous salads.
An article by Marta Zaraska, “Bitter truth: How we’re making fruit and veg less healthy,” in the August New Scientist magazine talks about how growers now engineer vegetables to remove bitterness; this despite clear scientific evidence that many of the bitter compounds in vegetables are actually extremely beneficial for human health. The recent publication of Bitter: A Taste of the World’s Most Dangerous Flavor, with Recipes by Australian chef Jennifer McLagan is another indicator that those interested in the full spectrum of gustatory appreciation are realizing that bitterness is a taste sensation that we cannot do without. She suggests that bitterness does not have to be in your face, but can provide a base note for many foods that may only be barely tasted, but which will be missed when absent.
Certainly, trying to get my seven-year-old daughter to eat mustard greens ended in ignominious defeat for daddy (a cursory reading of the scientific material related to bitterness suggests that the human brain is to some extent hard wired to reject bitterness, until this instinct is overridden by knowledge and experience), but my own experiments over the last couple of weeks found my appreciation for the bitterness of mustard greens growing daily.
Photo: Ian Bartholomew
The level of bitterness in mustard greens can be easily adjusted depending on taste. Taiwan’s own celebrity chef Cheng Yen-chi (鄭衍基), better known by his nickname Ah-chi-shih (阿基師), strongly recommends blanching mustard greens before frying, a technique that has the secondary function of helping to fix the color, so that the vegetables retain a vibrant green even after going into the wok for a quick stir-fry. With their thick stems, mustard greens do not soften quickly, and Cheng also suggests adding some bicarbonate of soda to the blanching process to quickly soften the stems. This can be helpful with some older plants, but for the tender plants available at any good market grocer, I don’t find this necessary, as I like the hint of a crunch and the residual bitter taste. Some chefs go so far as to recommend adding sugar when cooking mustard greens, but this seems a step too far. Long cooking is also a popular way of reducing bitterness, and stewed with ham hock or salt pork, mustard greens turn up trumps, no sugar needed.
The health benefits of mustard greens are too numerous to detail here, but they are a storehouse of vitamins and minerals. They are also a powerful anti-inflammatory and are helpful at removing harmful toxins from the body. It is also supposed to help retard the loss of mental function associated with aging, so I guess it didn’t get called the “long-life vegetable” for nothing.
That said, the bitter taste of mustard greens is relatively mild, compared to such vegetables as bitter gourd (苦瓜), and is a good introduction to bitter flavor in Taiwan, where the more exotic bitter leaves such as endive, radicchio and arugula are not easily available.
Crispy-skinned lemon chicken with sauteed mustard greens
Recipe
(serves two)
The bitterness of the mustard greens is a great way to balance out the luscious greasiness of pan-fried chicken. Paired with the citrus tang of the preserved lemon and the sweetness of the onion, this simple dish makes for a great balance of flavors. Rendering the chicken skin is the basis of a brilliant sauce that can be dribbled over the chicken and bitter greens.
Ingredients
2 boneless chicken thighs (with skin)
Half a preserved lemon, finely chopped (preserved lemons are an ingredient most commonly found in Moroccan food, and is sometimes available in quality supermarkets in Taiwan, but you can easily make them yourself — and they are a brilliant addition to a huge variety of foods)
1/2 cup chicken (or vegetable) stock
Salt and pepper to season
Half a large head of mustard greens
Half a small onion, finely sliced
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp lemon juice
Directions
1. Wash the chicken thighs and pat dry with kitchen paper. Season generously with coarse salt and ground pepper.
2. Bring a pot of water to a boil and blanch the mustard greens for about 2 minutes and then remove and drain.
3. Put the chicken skin-side down in a cold, heavy-bottom skillet and put on low heat. Cook for about 15 to 20 minutes until the skin is crisp. Flip the chicken over. (If it doesn’t flip and doesn’t seem in danger of charring, give it a few more minutes. When the skin is crisp, it should separate from the base of the skillet relatively easily.) Cook for another 2-3 minutes until cooked through.
4. While the chicken is cooking, heat 1 tbsp of olive oil in a large saute pan and add the onions. Cook over medium heat until soft and just beginning to color.
5. Add the blanched mustard greens and stir over medium heat to mix well. Add lemon juice, then salt and pepper to taste.
6. When the chicken is cooked (internal temperature of 73C at its thickest point), remove it from the skillet and set aside.
7. There will be some brown bits sticking to the bottom of the skillet. Add the chicken (or vegetable) stock and use a wooden spoon to unstick these bits than add the finely chopped preserved lemon. Stir vigorously to make a sauce.
8. Serve the chicken over the mustard greens and pour over the sauce.
Ian Bartholomew runs Ian’s Table, a small guesthouse in Hualien. He has lived in Taiwan for many years writing about the food scene and has decided that until you look at farming, you know nothing about the food you eat. He can be contacted at Hualien202@gmail.com.
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