Bubbling Crude Pork Belly

Faithful readers might recall that after the Washington Auto Show, AC and I ventured to Chinatown Express for their celebrated noodles and soup dumplings. We also teased at the end of the post that we might try the pig's belly with preserved mustard green casserole and eggplant with salt fish casserole. I brought down the final ruling that we would be trying these dishes, and that would be that.

We went back the following weekend, as our curiosity got the best of us. We barely even glanced at the menu; we knew what we wanted.

“We’ll take the the fresh dumpling with leek and pork, the pork belly with greens, and the eggplant with salt fish casserole,” AC said with conviction.

“Oh!” said the server, winking at me. “All my favorites! And real Chinese.”

“Yes,” we nodded and agreed.

“People come in here and order Hunan Chicken, Chicken Fried Rice,” she fumed, eschewing the notion. “Not real Chinese food.”

We felt great having pleased the Chinese waitress, but we were still slightly nervous about trying the entrees, for which we had no frame of reference.

The dumplings ended up being among the best we’ve had: slightly doughy and packed with meat and scallions—much better than the soup dumplings we had last time.

But what form would the pork belly assume? Was it going to be like small pieces of salty bacon (which we know comes from the belly of the pig), or would it be slabs of fatty meat?

It turned out to be the latter.

A small steaming cauldron was presented before us, large pieces of meat and fat protruding from the bubbling broth, while tiny minced pieces of mustard green were virtually hidden. We enjoyed the taste of the pork, though it had an oddly soft pliability. It turns out that these slabs of pork belly, ribboned with fat, and sided with a slightly bumpy and muddy red skin, actually came from the roasted pig hanging from the hook up front. As a result, the pork had that sickly sweet taste of Chinese barbecue, the sort of taste that we like for a few bites, but soon find cloying. The pickled mustard greens were minced and boiled into an ineffectual stew. They contributed nothing whatsoever to the taste, and seemed to be present solely to add some modicum of healthful properties that would otherwise be lacking from this fatty dish. In its stead, dozens of thick garlic slices battled with the barbecued flavor of the meat.

In the second dish, the eggplant was the chief component, and the salt fish was barely there, though when it made its presence known, its salty sea essence was powerful. These small pieces of fish were extremely salty and almost crunchy, both qualities offering a perfect complement to the fleshy, mildly flavored eggplant. But we're not entirely sure that they're meant to be eaten. Perhaps like the bay leaf, they're simply meant to provide flavor. Once again, a generous helping of thinly sliced garlic was one of the principal flavor components of the dish, while one of the marquee ingredients, the salty fish, was largely sidelined.

While we are unlikely to order these dishes ever again, we're glad to have had the opportunity to try some authentic Chinese peasant food. In this case, we believe this is exactly the sort of thing that is served up after several hours of tilling the fields. In fact, for a couple of days after the meal, AC lamented the fact that he didn’t properly earn such a hearty meal and perhaps he should retroactively do some field work to make up for it.

Now that we’ve sufficiently tested our strength and constitutions with these Chinese delicacies, we can safely return to the other authentic dishes that we hold dear at Chinatown Express: fresh noodle made on the spot, leek and pork dumplings, and sautéed green leaf with garlic.

Enjoy an adventure at Chinatown Express, located at:

746 Sixth Street NW
Washington, DC
(202) 638-0425

—AK