Mysteries of the Chinese kitchen
Kung Pao macaroni shrimp with XO sauce, a dish from the spice-loving region of Chiu Chow. Photos
Dining trends have come and gone, but my readers keep asking the same question – why does every Chinese restaurant in the South Bay serve the same items? Where can I get the exciting, challenging stuff served in the San Gabriel Valley?
I have an answer for that — the number 524,000. That’s the approximate number of Asian-Americans in the San Gabriel area based on the most recent census. Nobody expects that number to decrease in the next count, and that’s how many potential discerning customers for Chinese food in that neighborhood. There isn’t a tenth of that number in a wide radius around the South Bay, so we don’t attract restaurateurs who want to do a deep dive into the culture.
Things have been getting better thanks to some newcomers who have been arriving in cities east of here, and also due to a local place that has upped their game after years in business. Seashore is at PCH and Calle Mayor just a skosh from Redondo, but you may have driven past without seeing it. It’s in a small shopping center below street level, invisible when eastbound and only slightly better in the other direction.
The interior is the usual, a few tanks of fish that are in the high risk pool when it comes to life insurance, folk art, photos of specialties of the house, and signs in Chinese announcing specials. On arrival you will be given two menus, one the encyclopedic list of standard dishes, the other a smaller one with regional specialties. Ignore the big one for a few minutes, because the other one has the interesting stuff. There are sections that list Chiu Chow, Cantonese, Hakka, and hot pot dishes, along with a few soups and noodles of indeterminate origin.
For those don’t know much about Chinese regions, here’s a brief explanation. The Hakka are an inland people who enjoy heavily herbal flavors and slow-cooked stews. In coastal regions they combined these ideas with seafood for a cuisine that is not particularly spicy but full-flavored. The Cantonese live around Hong Kong, and their cooking is more mild and delicate. Chiu Chow people cook with little oil and favor steamed dishes that are more daring with the peppers. As for the dishes called “Mandarin” on this menu, it’s apparently a catch-all term for the most exuberantly spicy items.
A warning before you order: if you have a food allergy, tell your server, because some dishes that may appear to be all seafood may contain meat, and in some cases the English translations are flat out wrong. I ordered “Kung Pao macaroni shrimp with XO sauce” from the Chiu Chow section only to find that it did not contain any actual macaroni. When I pointed this out to my server, he confessed that he didn’t know what macaroni is, and he would have to talk to whoever translated the menu. What arrived was shrimp with cashews, green onion, ginger, garlic, and mild chili peppers in a sauce that contains chopped dried seafood, chili, and ham. It was served over lettuce rather than macaroni, and was delicious.
Among the Hakka items I sampled were tofu skin with vegetable, scallops and enoki with spinach, and something called jade pond tofu. That was a bowl of rice topped with mixed vegetables and mushrooms in a pleasant oniony sauce, and I suppose that if you squinted the green peas in the bowl might look like jade. It was enjoyable but not essential, something I might order again as a respite from spicier entrees. The tofu skin with vegetable was a delicately flavored item, and if you haven’t tried tofu skin this is a good way to experience it. The thin sheets of bean curd have a pleasant texture and slightly fuller flavor than standard tofu. It’s a fine companion to a mix of celery, mushrooms, carrots, and cabbage in a mild, slightly sweet sauce.
The enoki with spinach were fine, threadlike mushrooms that were cooked in a mild sauce and then placed over lightly steamed spinach just before serving. The presentation enhances both ingredients, the spinach just past raw so the natural flavor is enhanced but the leaves and stems still have crispness, the mushrooms in clear sauce silky and fragrant.
Another item for those who enjoy textures is the crispy fish with XO sauce, which quite sensibly is served with the sauce on the side. That way you can dip the fish and have the flavor of the sauce without destroying the crispness. Unfortunately the fish was over-fried to tastelessness that day, so I might as well have had the sauce on a cracker. It was the one misstep in several visits.
I tried two things from the “Mandarin special” section, aromatic and spicy broiled fish and lao gan ma bean curd. Lao gan ma is a richly funky concoction of fermented soybeans, chopped peanuts, fish sauce, and chillies that was invented by a street stall vendor in 1989. The woman who came up with the recipe closed her noodle stall to open a sauce factory and has become a billionaire from the proceeds, so one may guess that it is pretty popular. It is justifiably so, as the sauce has layers of umami and sharp, spicy flavors. (It also has MSG in it, unlike everything else served here, so be warned if that’s a problem for you.)
Spicy pungent fish, which uses the native Sichuan flower pepper loved by the people of inland southern China.
The aromatic and spicy broiled fish was completely different from what one might expect, chunks of filet in a huge bowl of volcanically peppery, heavily herbal broth. The people of inland southern China are connoisseurs of “numbing hot” flavors using their native Sichuan flower pepper, and it was in abundance here. When I ordered this the server warned me twice that it was very hot, and he brought extra water. The warning and water were both appreciated, and so was that bowl of soup. My face was red, my mouth was tingling, and I was completely delighted. Spice wimps beware, but if you like hot food you must order this.
At the end of every meal you are served a complimentary mango pudding that does a great job of cooling the fires, and is good even if you haven’t stoked that furnace. You will probably leave with some leftovers, because portions are large.
So far I haven’t mentioned the standard items at Seashore, which they do well, Their mu shu shrimp has a nice slightly smoky flavor to the vegetables, the hot and sour soup has a nice balance of both flavors, and I’ve had some entirely decent Hong Kong style chow mein. I’ll keep exploring that list, but now that I know about the other menu that’s where I look first. This is the only place anywhere close to the beach that I can get those flavors of a different, more exotic China, and I order with an open mind and see what happens. If you’re willing to take a few chances, you too may find it rewarding.
Seashore is at 5137 Calle Mayor in Torrance. Open 11 a.m – 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. – 9:30 p.m., parking lot, wheelchair access OK. Wine and beer served. No website, phone 310-373-0751. ER