Last night was Saturday night, and in my home–after a long, stressful work week–this means that we’ll be in the kitchen, cooking something that either we’ve never made before, or that takes so bloody long to prepare (like cassoulet, which is today’s adventure) that it’s prohibitively challenging to make for a weeknight meal. So, last night, we made a spicy Asian pork roast (from a $3.23 boneless sirloin roast), which is a regular dish in our Poor Man’s Feast repertoire. 

But I also decided to make one of my favorite Chinese side dishes–one that I often lust after when I’m on a hormonal binge (some ladies go for chocolate, I go for this). Whenever I see it on a Chinese restaurant menu, I absolutely always order it. The bottom line, for me, is that I love flatbreads and savory crepes and skillet breads of all kinds, from chapati to roti, parantha to kulcha to banh cuon. If I could only have one, though, it would be a really good Scallion Pancake. Crispy on the outside, flaky and chewy on the inside and laden with minced scallions (and sometimes, ginger and hot red pepper), these things have never seen the top of my stove simply because I’ve always written them off as being elusively difficult to make at home, and thus best kept to the mysterious confines of the Chinese restaurant kitchen. Much like the time that I attempted to make Char Su pork and wound up with a depressingly different dish than what I was used to eating in Chinatown, I decided that I just didn’t want to be disappointed and saddened by something that I usually lust after in a professional establishment, and that costs in today’s market, around $7.00 per order, dipping sauce included. Two orders, and you’re paying more than you would for shrimp and lobster sauce, so it’s pretty special. 

So there was no way I was going to make it last night–no way in hell. But then, we had a snowstorm, and suddenly, all bets were off. “I know,” I said, “I’m going to make scallion pancakes!” My other half rolled her eyes at me.

“Do you have any idea how time-consuming this is going to be? And do we have all the ingredients? Any appetizer that costs $7 on a Chinese restaurant menu does so for a reason!” She sat down in a huff.

I thumbed through a few books. Some recipes required a fuddy combination of western ingredients: cake flours and white flours, baking powder and kosher salt. I started to get worried. After about half an hour of research and the perusal of a Ming Tsai recipe (I adore Ming Tsai not only because he is a master chef, but also because he’s a master squash player, and I love squash), I realized that scallion pancakes were nothing more than 

and I got pissed off. Really pissed off. 

Sure, there’s the process: you put 2 cups of unbleached flour in your food processor, pour in a cup of boiling water while the processor runs, remove the dough when it balls up. You let it rest for half an hour or so. You roll it out into whatever shape you can muster, paint it with oil, sprinkle on the scallions, roll it up like a jelly roll, slice it into four parts, twist each part (the result was a sort of stubby, greasy, scallion-studded phallus), and then roll each part out into a circle about 5 or 6 inches across. (Mine came out shaped like butterflies for some reason, but who cares.) You heat up a stick-proof saute pan, add more oil, and fry each pancake until it looks like it does in a restaurant. 

And oddly, it does. Except, in my case, for the butterfly thing. 

The crust was the same, the chewy, flaky inside was the same. 

Anyway, the whole recipe and ordeal took me somewhere in the neighborhood of forty minutes to throw together, twenty of which were also occupied by the pork roast resting before slicing. It also yielded four, fairly fabulous scallion pancakes, two of which we had this morning for breakfast. 

The math: 

I can’t for the life of me figure out the cost of two cups of King Arthur unbleached flour, but odds are that it’s pennies (given that my five pound bag cost around $3.00). A bunch of organic scallions was 99 cents and I only used three of them, so that comes to around 33 cents. The oil was around 25 cents. The boiling water, free. The electricity to run the food processor? Can’t figure it. The propane to power the stove? Ditto. 

But suffice it to say, getting two substantial meals out of four scallion pancakes that cost around a dollar to make will make me spit bullets the next time I see them on a menu for $7.00 a pop.

Never again.

PS: They freeze really well. 

The numbers: 

1 boneless pork sirloin roast, 2.17 pounds=$3.23

4 scallion pancakes=$1.00, approximately

Divided by at least 2 meals, for 2 people: 

$1.05 per meal, per person

 

Quick marinade:

1 tablespoon black bean chili paste

2 tablespoons hoisin sauce

1 teaspoon minced garlic

1 teaspoon soy sauce

2 teaspoons mirin

1 boneless pork roast, around 2 pounds

1. In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the marinade ingredients and taste for seasoning.  Place the pork in the bowl, and using clean hands, massage the marinade into the meat. Let rest for one hour, at room temperature. 

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Place the pork roast in a small baking dish, and roast for thirty minutes. Remove from oven, baste with drippings, turn, baste again, and return to the oven. Continue to roast until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the meat registers 148 degrees F. Remove, loosely tent with foil, and let rest for 20 minutes before slicing. 

3. Slice into rounds or thin strips, and serve with rice or scallion pancakes, and Boston lettuce leaves.

Serves 2, with sizable leftovers

1 tablespoon canola oil

2 eggs, beaten

2 scallions, sliced into 1″ slivers

2 cups cooked white or brown long grain rice (leftover is best)

1 cup finely cubed leftover spicy Asian pork

1-2 tablespoons soy sauce

1. In a stick proof skillet set over medium high heat, warm the oil until it shimmers. Pour in the eggs, swirl them around and let them set, pancake-style. Carefully turn the egg (now a crepe) out onto a large plate, roll up, and slice into strips. Set aside.

2. Add the scallions to the pan, and cook until soft. Crumble the rice into the pan, and stir well, breaking up any lumps. Toss well to combine with the scallions. Add the pork to the pan, toss well to heat through, and add the soy sauce. Combine well.

3. Add the egg strips back to the pan, toss well to combine, and turn out onto a warm platter. 

Serves 2, with leftovers

This is just the suggestion that you toast leftover scallion pancakes (should they exist) on a hot, dry griddle. (DO NOT TOAST THEM IN THE TOASTER OR TOASTER OVEN OR YOU’LL HAVE A FIRE. TRUST ME.) Serve with tangy soft cheese, such as Quark or Fromage Blanc. 

2006 Weingut E&M Berger Gruner Veltliner. For around $11, this fruity, soft, dry wine from Austria is an amazing buy, and a great accompaniment to any salty Asian dish.