But luckily a few restaurants were bald/generous enough to have it included in their menu, so I figured it can be done. When I first attempted to write something about how it can be used, I couldn’t think up any other ways to eat it except to use it as a dip or a spread.
After tasting it, he gave some away to the neighbors and they all raved about it.
He only remembered it months later due to the overwhelming stench. So he cut the tofu into small pieces, salted them and put them in a vat. That summer, the leftover tofu soon became too moldy to eat, which was a waste. Luckily enough, Wang’s family owned a tofu mill, so he relocated near 安徽会馆 ānhuī huìguǎn (near 琉璃厂 Liúlíchǎng) and started a tofu business in the capital. Wang Zhihe, a native of Anhui province, failed the Imperial Civil Service Exams in Beijing and realized he was short to pay for his return trip. It is recorded that Wang Zhihe's stinky tofu, the original Beijing choudoufu, first appeared in the eighth year of Emperor Kangxi’s rule in 1669. We always served it in a special tiny bowl, though the choudoufu was later replaced by a variety of pickles (酱菜 jiàngcài), because it’s-simply-let’s-face-it-too-salty. The gooey skin melts in the tolerant rice congee, and it worked like grandma’s chicken broth for sick days. You pick a tiny bit of choudufu up (搛 jiān) with the tip of the chopsticks, stick it in your mouth, and then quickly gobble up a mouthful of steaming hot rice congee. My mother would add one cube of choudofu to the rice congee along with a spoonful of seasame oil to smooth it out. So far, I’d tried wasabi, baijiu, chili, and some other weird stuff to my father’s delight, but never attempted the ultimate Lee family breakfast combo: 臭豆腐 chòudòufu + rice congee, among many other variations. I was probably only three, or whenever toddlers start to show fear or disgust for disturbing flavors. I vaguely remembered my first trip down that lane. and let’s not forget the godforsaken 豆汁儿 dòuzhī'r. Deep fried scorpions, deep fried cacada pupae, we’ve all been to Wangfujing and had a scare seeing some of the food on display. Growing up as a local Beijing 妞儿 Niū'r I have tried so many things that I later found to be unpalatable to my friends. They are usually unapologetically savory down to the point that one can taste bitterness or an earthy taste. I usually sum up Beijing Xiaochi in two words: ugly and brutal, because it was meant to feed the starving masses, not some royal dignitaries.
Snack Attack is your guide to the sometimes smelly, sometimes flavorful, sometimes odd munchies to be had in the capital.
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