The 100-Year-Old Chinese Dish That Every Family Makes Differently

In 1920, an old Harbin cookbook listed a dish called “stir-fried pork with la pi.” By then, Shandong migrants who had moved northeast during the Chuang Guandong movement had brought their mixing bowls and woks into Northeast winters. People from Shandong were good at cold tossing and stir-frying. Northeast winters lacked fresh vegetables, so people made la pi from mung bean or potato starch. La pi stored easily, replaced some fresh vegetables, and added a chewy, slippery texture to the table. The dish stayed in that cold climate for a hundred years.

It never became standardized. Shandong sits near the sea. Its mung-bean sheets are thin, and the dressed dish leans fresh and light, with little sesame paste. In the cold Northeast, where fresh vegetables were scarce, flavor moved toward heavy vinegar, heavy sesame paste, and rich, salty oil. At banquets and wedding feasts, the rules changed again: five-color garnishes, handmade la pi, sauce-stir-fried pork shreds, a carefully made dressing, and formal plating. At home, it was packaged la pi, pork shreds stir-fried without much fuss, and simplified seasoning. Good enough to eat. One dish, four versions. No version wins. Each one makes sense on its own table.

Today, the lazy version.

Don’t tear the la pi you buy at the market. It sticks together in the bag, and pulling hard breaks it. Cover the la pi with warm water and stir gently with your fingers a couple of times. Let it soak slowly. Soaked la pi won’t break or clump.

Cut the cucumber into shreds with the skin on. No need to peel. The skin makes it crunchier, and the color looks better. After cutting, don’t soak it in water. Plate it and set it aside. Cucumber wilts when it touches water. Dress and eat right away so it stays crunchy.

Choose tenderloin or pork shoulder. Both are tender, not dry. Cut against the grain, about the thickness of a chopstick tip. To the pork shreds, add a little cooking wine, light soy sauce, a pinch of salt, and dark soy sauce. Massage until sticky. Add a little cornstarch, then drizzle in half a spoonful of cooking oil. Mix well and marinate for 10 to 15 minutes. No need for a long marinade.

Mix two spoonfuls of sesame paste with cold boiled water, one spoonful of light soy sauce, and half a spoonful of sugar. Add warm water to the sesame paste little by little. Stir slowly in one direction until it looks like yogurt. Don’t thin it with boiling water. It will turn bitter and lumpy. Don’t make it too thick. It will coat the la pi and feel greasy. Too thin and it won’t hold the flavor.

Heat the wok until it smokes, then add cooking oil. The oil should be 30 to 40 percent hot. Add the marinated pork shreds and quickly separate them in one direction over medium-low heat. Don’t rush to stir right after they hit the wok. Wait two seconds, then separate them. They’re less likely to break. Stir-fry until they all change color. The moment they’re just cooked, turn off the heat and dish them out. Don’t fry them until burnt or dry. Once tough, they’re no good.

Arrange the la pi and cucumber shreds. Add minced garlic, pour on the sesame paste, then lay the stir-fried pork shreds on top. Mix everything together just before eating.

One chopstickful gives you slippery la pi, crunchy cucumber, garlic, sesame paste, vinegar, and pork. It doesn’t need to be plated like a picture. Every garnish doesn’t need to be cut the same.

Stir-fried pork with la pi is a folk home dish, a street-level dish, with no fixed recipe. For a hundred years it has passed from household to household, made and tasted by word of mouth. Each person changes it to suit their own taste. Some add more vinegar. Some add more sesame paste. Some can’t do without garlic. Some must add a little mustard. Some use handmade la pi. Some use packaged la pi. Some insist on five-color garnishes. Others feel cucumber and pork shreds are enough.

Come home from work. Soak packaged la pi in warm water. Smash two cucumbers and cut them into shreds. Stir-fry some pork shreds without fuss. Thin the sesame paste. Mix and eat. When you’re done, push the bowl away. Tomorrow you’ll want to eat it this way again.