Beijing Muslim History: Old Halal Notes from the Northern City (Part 4 of 6) — Section 1 of 2
Reposted from the web
Summary: Beijing Muslim History: Old Halal Notes from the Northern City is presented here as a firsthand travel account in clear English, beginning with this scene: East City:. The account keeps its focus on Beijing Muslim History, Northern Beijing, Hui Muslims while preserving the names, places, food, and historical details from the Chinese source. This retry section is 1 of 2.
Section 1 of 2
Yueshengzhai, also known as the "Old Ma Family Shop," has been famous in the capital since the Qianlong era for its beef and lamb cooked in a century-old broth that is constantly replenished. The recipe for the stewed meat is a closely guarded secret. People say back then, the aroma drifted into the palace, and even the Emperor would drool when he smelled it, so he specially bestowed a plaque to show his praise. Because it was located next to the Qing Dynasty Ministry of Revenue, the local people commonly called it "the stewed lamb on Hubu Street."
That day, just before the lamps were lit, Meng Zhang brought all his guests to the entrance of Yueshengzhai and found that it was already packed with diners.
As the crowd grew larger, someone inside the old shop shouted loudly, "The pot is open!" Then the windows in the courtyard were all opened at once, and along with a cloud of hot steam, that mouth-watering aroma filled the air. Then a worker dropped large chunks of lamb into a pot of hot oil. As it fried, he used a spoon to skim the foam off the top and tossed it into the stove, which immediately released a different kind of aroma.
He scooped the fried meat out and placed it on a cutting board, then—'Pop! Pop! Pop! '—he chopped it into pieces. You could hear the sizzling and see the crispy outside and tender inside. No one passing by could keep walking.
Children clapped and sang: 'Water buffalo, water buffalo, horns in front and head in back. Your mom and dad bought you fried lamb...' Adults held pots and bowls, rushing to buy some. Those who couldn't afford the meat just asked for two spoonfuls of lamb broth to pour over their noodles, stirred them with chopsticks, and slurped down a whole bowl.
Some rickshaw pullers even took steamed corn buns (wotou) out of their pockets and ate them dry while enjoying the scent filling the street. Before leaving with their rickshaws, they took a few deep breaths of the air to savor it one last time.
These hungry foreign tourists had never seen anything like this. They eagerly asked Mengzhang for food. Just then, the owner of Yueshengzhai came out and waved his hand, and the staff quickly set up tables and chairs. They brought out hot sesame flatbread with lamb (shaobing jia yangrou) and served it with a bowl of thin noodle soup (cu tang mian). Right there in the street, the foreigners started eating. They ate until they were completely stuffed, then held onto the corners of the tables to stand up. They burped and gave a thumbs-up to the front of the Yueshengzhai shop.
Mengzhang found the Japanese man in the crowd. The guy was busy munching on a sesame flatbread (shaobing). He looked a bit embarrassed as he used his meat-sauce-covered hand to pull a meal voucher from his pocket and hand it to Mengzhang. Right in front of him, Mengzhang slowly tore the Grand Hotel (Liuguo Fandian) meal voucher in half and put it back in his pocket. He said, 'I don't have time to take advantage of you!'
Three Generations of Baimen, Bai Ming, Yueshengzhai.
My great-great-grandfather started making spiced lamb (jiang yangrou), but it was during the Jiaqing reign of the Qing Dynasty that my ancestors Ma Yongxiang and Ma Yongfu truly perfected the five-spice spiced lamb (wuxiang jiang yangrou) and sold it across the country. At that time, my ancestors received help from doctors at the Imperial Hospital to improve the original recipe. They used cloves, amomum, cinnamon, and star anise as the main medicinal ingredients, adding soy sauce and salt for flavor. Spiced lamb (jiang yangrou) made with this proper recipe is not only delicious and nutritious, but it also helps stimulate the appetite and aids digestion. A good recipe needs careful, precise cooking techniques. To perfect his craft, my ancestor would often stay in the kitchen all night from the moment the lamb went into the pot until it was finished. After years of practice, he concluded that you must start with the right lamb, and the large white sheep from the West Pass (Xikou) are the best. Back then, these sheep were hard to find; they were either out of stock or too expensive for us to afford. Because of this, my ancestor and his team bought forty or fifty large white sheep from the West Pass, kept them in the backyard of Yueshengzhai, and assigned people to raise them carefully for our use. For our soy-sauce lamb, we only use the front half of the sheep. We have to cut it carefully based on the specific part of the meat; if the pieces are too small, they fall apart, but if they are too big, the flavor does not soak in, so you have to watch the meat as you cut. Second, the seasonings must be high quality. You must carefully select every spice, regardless of the cost, and only use the best raw ingredients. Third, controlling the heat is a key step. The cook must carefully watch how the meat color changes and how strong the fire is. Start by boiling it over high heat for about an hour. Once the pot boils and foam rises to the surface, keep skimming it off with a long-handled ladle, then switch to low heat to simmer for six or seven hours. Boiling over high heat removes gamey smells, impurities, and off-flavors, while simmering over low heat lets the flavors of the spices soak into the meat. Finally, add aged broth (laotang) to deepen the flavor of the meat. Aged broth is what we call leftover stock. After making braised lamb (jiang yangrou) each time, we save some of the thick liquid in a jar to add to the pot for the next batch, which is why our braised lamb is known for its century-old marinade. We are picky about more than just these steps; the tools we use must be wide pots and wide ladles. We especially insist on using only wide pots with three-line markings.
The season for making braised lamb (jiang yangrou) runs from autumn to spring, with the peak period during the three winter months. Every year, once summer arrives, braised lamb enters its off-season. To keep the business running in summer, my ancestor researched and developed a summer food called roasted lamb (shao yangrou). Beijingers love wheat-based foods like steamed buns (mantou), griddle-baked flatbread (laobing), and noodles, especially hand-pulled noodles (chen mian). How people eat noodles changes with the seasons; in winter, they eat hot noodles straight from the pot with soybean paste (zhajiangmian), braised sauce noodles (lumian), or hot soup noodles. After summer starts, people eat cold-water noodles (guoshuimian) to beat the heat, refresh their appetite, and add nutrition. The method for making braised lamb involves reducing the broth, while roasted lamb involves simmering it in a light sauce. Yueshengzhai makes its roasted lamb every day at noon and sells it in the afternoon. Locals use a big bowl, order less meat, and ask for more broth. They pour hot lamb bone broth (yangtang) over cold noodles, add shredded cucumber, and eat. The noodles are cool, the broth is warm, and the taste is fresh. It is a unique summer treat.
The famous old Beijing brand, Yueshengzhai Ma Family Shop. Ma Lin (Wang Dongsi: The author is the fifth-generation descendant of Yueshengzhai).
13. Fusheng Canteen in Dongdan.
For Chinese food, we ate at Xilaishun. For Western food, there was a halal place called Fusheng Canteen near Dongdan, started by a family from outside Hademen. Their Western food was excellent. Later, when my father got older, he only ate a little when we went out, not as much as I did. When I was quite young, I could order two dishes, like steak and fried salmon, plus a soup. Anyway, one day I would have this soup, the next day that soup, and I would eat appetizers and bread before that. I really ate a lot, plus desserts. In winter, I ate chestnut flour, which is all starch and sugar. I could really eat. Back then, the steaks were so big that we would order two for four people, so each person got half, which was just right.
On the east side of the road at Dongdan, there was the Star and Moon Restaurant (Xingyue Canting), which later turned into a bank branch. In the 1940s, when I was in middle school, I would ride my bike there all by myself to eat. I’d have the macaroni with tomato sauce and an ice cream, and that was it. I would just sign my name and have my family pay the bill later. That meal would probably cost over a hundred yuan today. That is why I feel like Western food today just doesn't taste right. It is a real shame that the Fusheng Canteen (Fusheng Shitang) didn't pass down its business, so it is gone forever.
Born in the South of the City (Sheng Zai Cheng Nan): Not Inferior to Men—Oral accounts by Li Bin and Xiao Cheng. Written by Ding Yizhuang (Note by Wang Dongsi: The narrator is the younger sister of the famous conductor Li Delun).
14. Zengqingzhai on Yiliu Hutong outside Di'anmen.
Summary: Beijing Muslim History: Old Halal Notes from the Northern City is presented here as a firsthand travel account in clear English, beginning with this scene: East City:. The account keeps its focus on Beijing Muslim History, Northern Beijing, Hui Muslims while preserving the names, places, food, and historical details from the Chinese source. This retry section is 1 of 2.
Section 1 of 2
Yueshengzhai, also known as the "Old Ma Family Shop," has been famous in the capital since the Qianlong era for its beef and lamb cooked in a century-old broth that is constantly replenished. The recipe for the stewed meat is a closely guarded secret. People say back then, the aroma drifted into the palace, and even the Emperor would drool when he smelled it, so he specially bestowed a plaque to show his praise. Because it was located next to the Qing Dynasty Ministry of Revenue, the local people commonly called it "the stewed lamb on Hubu Street."
That day, just before the lamps were lit, Meng Zhang brought all his guests to the entrance of Yueshengzhai and found that it was already packed with diners.
As the crowd grew larger, someone inside the old shop shouted loudly, "The pot is open!" Then the windows in the courtyard were all opened at once, and along with a cloud of hot steam, that mouth-watering aroma filled the air. Then a worker dropped large chunks of lamb into a pot of hot oil. As it fried, he used a spoon to skim the foam off the top and tossed it into the stove, which immediately released a different kind of aroma.
He scooped the fried meat out and placed it on a cutting board, then—'Pop! Pop! Pop! '—he chopped it into pieces. You could hear the sizzling and see the crispy outside and tender inside. No one passing by could keep walking.
Children clapped and sang: 'Water buffalo, water buffalo, horns in front and head in back. Your mom and dad bought you fried lamb...' Adults held pots and bowls, rushing to buy some. Those who couldn't afford the meat just asked for two spoonfuls of lamb broth to pour over their noodles, stirred them with chopsticks, and slurped down a whole bowl.
Some rickshaw pullers even took steamed corn buns (wotou) out of their pockets and ate them dry while enjoying the scent filling the street. Before leaving with their rickshaws, they took a few deep breaths of the air to savor it one last time.
These hungry foreign tourists had never seen anything like this. They eagerly asked Mengzhang for food. Just then, the owner of Yueshengzhai came out and waved his hand, and the staff quickly set up tables and chairs. They brought out hot sesame flatbread with lamb (shaobing jia yangrou) and served it with a bowl of thin noodle soup (cu tang mian). Right there in the street, the foreigners started eating. They ate until they were completely stuffed, then held onto the corners of the tables to stand up. They burped and gave a thumbs-up to the front of the Yueshengzhai shop.
Mengzhang found the Japanese man in the crowd. The guy was busy munching on a sesame flatbread (shaobing). He looked a bit embarrassed as he used his meat-sauce-covered hand to pull a meal voucher from his pocket and hand it to Mengzhang. Right in front of him, Mengzhang slowly tore the Grand Hotel (Liuguo Fandian) meal voucher in half and put it back in his pocket. He said, 'I don't have time to take advantage of you!'
Three Generations of Baimen, Bai Ming, Yueshengzhai.
My great-great-grandfather started making spiced lamb (jiang yangrou), but it was during the Jiaqing reign of the Qing Dynasty that my ancestors Ma Yongxiang and Ma Yongfu truly perfected the five-spice spiced lamb (wuxiang jiang yangrou) and sold it across the country. At that time, my ancestors received help from doctors at the Imperial Hospital to improve the original recipe. They used cloves, amomum, cinnamon, and star anise as the main medicinal ingredients, adding soy sauce and salt for flavor. Spiced lamb (jiang yangrou) made with this proper recipe is not only delicious and nutritious, but it also helps stimulate the appetite and aids digestion. A good recipe needs careful, precise cooking techniques. To perfect his craft, my ancestor would often stay in the kitchen all night from the moment the lamb went into the pot until it was finished. After years of practice, he concluded that you must start with the right lamb, and the large white sheep from the West Pass (Xikou) are the best. Back then, these sheep were hard to find; they were either out of stock or too expensive for us to afford. Because of this, my ancestor and his team bought forty or fifty large white sheep from the West Pass, kept them in the backyard of Yueshengzhai, and assigned people to raise them carefully for our use. For our soy-sauce lamb, we only use the front half of the sheep. We have to cut it carefully based on the specific part of the meat; if the pieces are too small, they fall apart, but if they are too big, the flavor does not soak in, so you have to watch the meat as you cut. Second, the seasonings must be high quality. You must carefully select every spice, regardless of the cost, and only use the best raw ingredients. Third, controlling the heat is a key step. The cook must carefully watch how the meat color changes and how strong the fire is. Start by boiling it over high heat for about an hour. Once the pot boils and foam rises to the surface, keep skimming it off with a long-handled ladle, then switch to low heat to simmer for six or seven hours. Boiling over high heat removes gamey smells, impurities, and off-flavors, while simmering over low heat lets the flavors of the spices soak into the meat. Finally, add aged broth (laotang) to deepen the flavor of the meat. Aged broth is what we call leftover stock. After making braised lamb (jiang yangrou) each time, we save some of the thick liquid in a jar to add to the pot for the next batch, which is why our braised lamb is known for its century-old marinade. We are picky about more than just these steps; the tools we use must be wide pots and wide ladles. We especially insist on using only wide pots with three-line markings.
The season for making braised lamb (jiang yangrou) runs from autumn to spring, with the peak period during the three winter months. Every year, once summer arrives, braised lamb enters its off-season. To keep the business running in summer, my ancestor researched and developed a summer food called roasted lamb (shao yangrou). Beijingers love wheat-based foods like steamed buns (mantou), griddle-baked flatbread (laobing), and noodles, especially hand-pulled noodles (chen mian). How people eat noodles changes with the seasons; in winter, they eat hot noodles straight from the pot with soybean paste (zhajiangmian), braised sauce noodles (lumian), or hot soup noodles. After summer starts, people eat cold-water noodles (guoshuimian) to beat the heat, refresh their appetite, and add nutrition. The method for making braised lamb involves reducing the broth, while roasted lamb involves simmering it in a light sauce. Yueshengzhai makes its roasted lamb every day at noon and sells it in the afternoon. Locals use a big bowl, order less meat, and ask for more broth. They pour hot lamb bone broth (yangtang) over cold noodles, add shredded cucumber, and eat. The noodles are cool, the broth is warm, and the taste is fresh. It is a unique summer treat.
The famous old Beijing brand, Yueshengzhai Ma Family Shop. Ma Lin (Wang Dongsi: The author is the fifth-generation descendant of Yueshengzhai).
13. Fusheng Canteen in Dongdan.
For Chinese food, we ate at Xilaishun. For Western food, there was a halal place called Fusheng Canteen near Dongdan, started by a family from outside Hademen. Their Western food was excellent. Later, when my father got older, he only ate a little when we went out, not as much as I did. When I was quite young, I could order two dishes, like steak and fried salmon, plus a soup. Anyway, one day I would have this soup, the next day that soup, and I would eat appetizers and bread before that. I really ate a lot, plus desserts. In winter, I ate chestnut flour, which is all starch and sugar. I could really eat. Back then, the steaks were so big that we would order two for four people, so each person got half, which was just right.
On the east side of the road at Dongdan, there was the Star and Moon Restaurant (Xingyue Canting), which later turned into a bank branch. In the 1940s, when I was in middle school, I would ride my bike there all by myself to eat. I’d have the macaroni with tomato sauce and an ice cream, and that was it. I would just sign my name and have my family pay the bill later. That meal would probably cost over a hundred yuan today. That is why I feel like Western food today just doesn't taste right. It is a real shame that the Fusheng Canteen (Fusheng Shitang) didn't pass down its business, so it is gone forever.
Born in the South of the City (Sheng Zai Cheng Nan): Not Inferior to Men—Oral accounts by Li Bin and Xiao Cheng. Written by Ding Yizhuang (Note by Wang Dongsi: The narrator is the younger sister of the famous conductor Li Delun).
14. Zengqingzhai on Yiliu Hutong outside Di'anmen.
