‘Always Enough for Everybody’

‘ALWAYS ENOUGH FOR EVERYBODY’

Author Kristina Cho’s Chinese Enough celebrates homestyle Chinese cooking

By Anna Mindess

 

A modest bungalow with a spacious kitchen and a glorious garden in a cozy corner of Richmond is home to a food-world celebrity, Kristina Cho. In 2022, when Cho was just 30 years old, she won two prestigious James Beard Awards, one for her cookbook, Mooncakes and Milk Bread, and another as an Emerging Voice in Books. Her second cookbook is coming out this fall.

The first-generation American grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, in a close-knit three-generation household that hailed from Hong Kong. Cho remembers doing her homework at her grandfather’s Chinese restaurant while munching on shrimp chips, which she filled with a little rice, then dipped in wonton soup. In those hours spent with relatives, Cho loved hearing her grandparents’ immigration stories, learning about her family’s history, and of course, sharing food.

The hours in school were different. In mostly Caucasian Cleveland, she was one of only four Asian students in her grade, and she felt she lived in two separate worlds. “I was trying to distance myself as much as possible from my Chinese culture because I felt it was making me stand out,” she says. “Really there were two of me: the me going to school and the me with my family, who were the only Asian community that I had. I looked very different from everyone else at school. I couldn’t hide that, but I didn’t talk about my Chinese culture. I tried my best to assimilate. I found common ground with my friends, like with music: NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys.”

At a young age, Cho noticed how effectively delicious food could bridge the gap. “When my non-Asian friends came over, they would always ask my mom to make her fried chicken,” she says. “This recipe has Asian techniques: There’s oyster sauce that gives it a savory sweet flavor. It’s tossed in cornstarch and rice flour to give it a light crunch, but it’s also fried chicken. Everyone loves my mom’s fried chicken. I made it the first time my parents met my husband’s parents. It always eases the tensions.”

In 2016, after earning a degree in architecture, Cho moved to San Francisco, where she reveled in the culture she found in the Inner Richmond. “It was such a beautiful community where I could finally experience my life surrounded by other Asian people who were just living their lives normally. I didn’t have to compartmentalize.” It was there that Cho began to delve into cooking. She started a blog, eatchofood.com, and focused on baking. Her book, Mooncakes and Milk Bread, struck a chord for many Asian Americans who grew up savoring baked goods from local Chinese bakeries but never saw them celebrated in a gorgeous cookbook. It also intrigued non-Asians who had never enjoyed (much less thought of making) pineapple buns, egg tarts, sesame balls, or red bean swirl buns.

 

 

In 2020, Cho and her partner, Reuben Alt (who later became her husband), hopped across the Bay to the city of Richmond. “Northeast Richmond is a charming, diverse community: Asian people, Hispanic people, African American people,” she says. “It felt more like real life than San Francisco.” Near their home, they found new favorite restaurants like Richmond’s Tacos El Tucan and El Cerrito’s Noodles Fresh and New Dumpling. For her favorite hobby—grocery shopping—Cho frequents Berkeley Bowl West, Monterey Market, Richmond’s 99 Ranch Market, and a bushel of farmers’ markets, including those in Temescal, Kensington, and El Cerrito Plaza.

It was also in 2020 that Cho envisioned her second cookbook, Chinese Enough, which debuts in September. The idea for a book that honors homestyle Chinese cooking had been percolating for years, but Cho can pinpoint the day when her vision crystalized. It happened due to crossed wires on dinner plans when she and her husband were in Cleveland visiting Cho’s parents, Wanda and Wing Tai Cho, during the pandemic.

“My parents were on their way to our Airbnb for dinner, but we went to their house,” recalls Cho. When they finally realized the miscommunication, it was 7:30pm. “I offered to order pizza, but my mom said, ‘don’t worry about it, I’ll just go home and make dinner for everyone.’”

“And my parents made us this four-course dinner!” says Cho. “That sounds fancy, but it wasn’t, really. Together they made Tomato Egg, which is in the book, stir fry squid with bell peppers and a black bean garlic sauce, perfect rice, and a tofu soup. They made it all in an hour, and I remember feeling like this meal was so nourishing and comforting. There are tons of Chinese cookbooks out there, but I think it’s rare to see a true glimpse of Chinese home cooking, what families are really making at home.”

Cho explains that an important element in homestyle cooking—which allowed her mother to whip up that four-course meal—is that Chinese people tend to keep a stocked pantry from which they can prepare dishes quickly. In Chinese Enough, Cho details the staples she recommends having at the ready, from bottled oyster sauce to fermented black beans and fresh tofu.

Cho sees California’s abundant fresh produce as part of her cooking style, but an equal influence in Chinese Enough is the “Midwestern sensibility” of her upbringing in Cleveland. At her parents’ house, she says, “the door is always open, so it’s ‘grab a seat, grab a plate.’ There’s always enough for everybody.” Other Midwestern traits she praises are practicality and efficiency. “People think that Chinese recipes are too complicated, and the ingredients are hard to find,” she says. “I try to make sure my recipes are as efficient as possible.”

 

 

Cho also distinguishes her recipes by how strictly they follow principles of classical Chinese cooking. “I have a collection of old-world recipes from my grandma, then recipes inspired by my mom, who moved to the U.S. when she was six years old,” she says.

“My third generation of Chinese cooking is an amalgamation of all my influences,” Cho adds. In some recipes, she simplifies the steps, such as stir frying the cabbage in her Chicken and Cabbage Spring Rolls instead of salting and squeezing it by hand.

A more recent influence on Cho’s cooking comes from her husband Reuben, who is Jewish. He impressed her from the start with his knowledge of the best dim sum place in San Francisco (Good Luck Dim Sum) and his appreciation of white fungus soup. She credits Reuben for her idea to make a classic Crab Rangoon with whitefish. “[It] ties into my husband’s [Jewish] culture and my family’s history of owning Chinese restaurants. That’s the fun part: that the recipes can highlight the different facets of my identity and my culture.” ♦

 

Anna Mindess is an award-winning journalist who writes on food, culture, and travel for numerous publications including the Washington Post, Atlas Obscura, and Berkeleyside. Follow her on Instagram @annamindess and find her stories at annamindess.contently.com.

 

Wispy Mushroom Chow Mein

Excerpted from Chinese Enough by Kristina Cho (Artisan Books). Copyright © 2024. Photograph by Kristina Cho.

“Chow Mein is such a Cantonese Hong Kong dish,” says Kristina Cho. “I was in Hong Kong last year and my uncle said, ‘All good chow mein needs is good noodles, good soy sauce, and onions.’ Beyond that, you can do what you want. In American Chinese restaurants, you can get chow mein with any protein. I like the addition of the wild mushrooms. We’re so lucky living in the Bay Area, especially with markets like Monterey Market or Berkeley Bowl. It’s almost a love letter to the insane mushroom collection we have here. Pick any of them, tear them up. They make such a delicious addition.”

Excellent chow mein has a lightness and simplicity to it. The foundations of the dish are good noodles, soy sauce, and a pinch of sugar. The noodles must be thin and crispy, almost toasted, so they’re sturdy enough to retain some space between themselves when they’re piled high on a plate, rather than falling flat and compacting. Additional ingredients should be minimal [so as not to] weigh down the dish. Green onions are an absolute must, for their color and aromatic qualities. Instead of meat, this chow mein is made with hand-torn strands of wild mushrooms to keep the vegetarians in your life very happy.

Serves 4 to 6

• 12 ounces (340 g) par-cooked or steamed chow mein noodles*
• 4 tablespoons (60 ml) neutral oil, such as grapeseed
• 12 ounces (340 g) wild mushrooms (like oyster or trumpet), pulled apart into thin strands
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• ½ cup (80 ml) soy sauce
• 2 tablespoons dark soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• ½ teaspoon ground white pepper
• 4 green onions, thinly sliced on a bias
• 1 tablespoon sesame seeds

BLANCH THE NOODLES: Bring a large pot of water to a boil over medium-high heat. Add the noodles and briefly blanch them, 1 to 2 minutes (or refer to the package directions for cooking times). Drain the noodles and rinse under cold water. Toss the noodles with a little bit of the neutral oil to prevent them from sticking.

SEAR THE MUSHROOMS: In a large cast-iron pan, heat 2 tablespoons of the neutral oil over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add the mushrooms in a single layer. Sear until the bottoms are deeply golden brown, 4 to 5 minutes, making sure to press down on the mushrooms with the back of the spatula every so often. Flip the mushrooms and cook until deeply browned on the other side, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer the mushrooms to a plate and repeat with the remaining mushrooms. Return all the mushrooms to the pan and season with the salt. Toss and stir-fry the mushrooms until extra crisp, 3 to 5 minutes. Return the mushrooms to the plate.

STIR-FRY THE NOODLES: Add the remaining neutral oil to the pan, then add the noodles and toss to coat in the oil. Add the soy sauces, sesame oil, sugar, and white pepper and toss to combine. Cook, tossing every few minutes, to crisp up the noodles, 8 to 10 minutes. Add the mushrooms and green onions. Toss to combine and cook the noodles for a final few minutes to warm up the mushrooms. Transfer the noodles to a platter, sprinkle with the sesame seeds, and serve immediately.

*Kristina Cho suggests making this dish with the fresh handmade noodles from Yuen Hop Noodles in Oakland’s Chinatown (also available in Berkeley Bowl’s fresh noodles section).