Chinese tamales that smell like boiled artichokes
There's nothing more nostalgic than the smell of Chinese tamales | 粽子 ("zongzi") cooking in the house. That is, unless you're White Boyfriend, in which case you say it smells like boiled artichokes and you need to leave immediately.
To me, it surfaces fond memories with Nainai in the kitchen, me clenching the string in my tiny fists, waiting intently for my grandmother's direction that it was time to tie up a neatly wrapped bamboo treasure. Then, I would dash around in agonizing anticipation as the house filled up with the smell of these delicious treats.
This is as close to dessert as you're gonna get in Chinese food. Here I must pause and mention that because I'm from Beijing, I grew up with the sweet jujube red date zongzi. Different parts of the country make different variations--some favor the savory over the sweet, with fillings of pork belly and shrimp, etc. Now i think they taste down right weird. Zongzi should be sweet. End of story.
Begin by gathering the ingredients. This one is tough for this recipe because you definitely need to head to the Asian grocery store. You can easily get everything there.
Get a few bowls and soak the sticky rice, bamboo leaves, and dates. Be gentle with the bamboo leaves as you'll have to fold them into the bowl. I usually place a plate on top to keep the leaves submerged. You need a minimum of three hours to soak everything or what I usually do is just leave it overnight so you're ready to go in the morning.
Actually making a tamale requires some skill and practice. You may need to watch some YouTube videos if the pictures below aren't enough. You also don't need to drain the water from anything because you're going to work right over the bowls. The rice is easier to handle and easier to get off your fingers if you dip them in the water.
Start with two bamboo leaves with a three quarter inch non-overlapping section on either side. This gives you more surface area to work with. When you make a cone make sure the tip is folded (as pictured in step 2 by my right hand). When you fill the cone, start with a little rice at the bottom and add dates alternating with rice. You want them to be spaced apart so that when you're gobbling down the end product you get dates throughout. I always put three in each zongzi. Don't overdo the rice. I've actually made this mistake before because I wanted to fill the cone all the way up and make GIANT zongzi, but they're definitely tastier as small, dainty treasures with dates in every bite.
Steps 4-6 are pretty visual and self explanatory in the photos. The tying of the zongzi is a little tricky. Have the lengths of string prepared ahead of time can save you a lot of headache during the process. It also helps to drop them into the same water the bamboo leaves are in. Wet string is easier to work with and have more friction against the slippery bamboo.
Your folded zongzi should be a triangular pyramid, otherwise known as a tetrahedron if I'm really going to nerd out. Tie the string however you need to in order for it to stay on. The key is that at the end your zongzi should be a tight little package that doesn't have rice falling out of it.
When you're done, make nine more. You can always make even more but my recipe is for ten, mostly because my fingers begin to prune after that.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Gently drop in your precious packets and return to a gentle gurgle for one hour. If your bamboo leaves start to open in the water you've done something terribly wrong and you need to abort mission asap. If the delicious smell of boiled artichokes fills the air then all is right in the world. When they're cooked, drain and serve with some white sugar. Like most Chinese foods I love, White Boyfriend won't be partaking, so more for me for breakfast, lunch, afternoon snack, and dinner.
For the straight-up Chinese tamales recipe, click here.