Hotel’s Yunnan fare a surprise hit
Foodies looking for a good sampling of Yunnan fare in Kunming might not head straight to the Holiday Inn. But after two eateries with guidebook raves turned out to be closed for an extended Spring Festival holiday — and the “grand dame” hotel of the city turned out to be a decaying old lady — we found unex- pected delights at the American chain hotel.
Our festive spread started with a slightly spicy stir-fried pork with leeks (48 yuan). That perfectly fine but not too sexy dish was quickly followed by a knockout: stir-fried Shangri-La dried yak steak with “special spices”. The studs in that mix are peppercorns from nearby Sichuan, which give the dish an aura of numb- ing heat without making us blind. Mixed in are sprigs of fried mint, with a melt-in-your-mouth crispiness and a surreally translucent greenness rarely seen apart from stained-glass windows. There are echoes of garlic and spring onion, too, all combining to give the earthy yak a curious elegance, enhanced by colorful presentation in a bamboo basket.
Next came a big slab of braised tofu, made in-house and silky smooth, smothered in spicy sauce enhanced with a mix of the mushrooms that beg to be part of any Yunnan meal. Not as incendiary as mapu tofu can be, though the kitchen will crank up the heat if that’s your preference.
From there we went to noodles, a must here — especially in the stillwarm wake of the Lunar New Year. We started with the robust and savory rice noodle in a meaty broth, but next came what may have been the highlight of the night, the local specialty known as “bridge noodles”.
The dish arrived deconstructed, a big bowl of clear vegetable broth that had been simmering for hours, surrounded by a flock of bowls including a mass of handmade rice noodles as well as slices of spring onion and brilliant yellow chrysanthemum petals.
The collection was pretty as a picture, but when we leaned in to take pictures we were mildly chided by our server, who was eager to stir in the raw ingredients while the soup was still scalding hot to cook them. We got out of her way in haste, and were rewarded with an even better picture, the finished soup aglow in white, yellow and green. Ladled into soup bowls, the delicate broth unleashed its component favors serially, each mouthful stirring up a new fugue of flavor.
Dessert was a sweet adventure, with double-boiled hashima and honey served in a hollowed-out papaya. Hashima (hasma) is translated elsewhere on the menu as “Chinese forest frog”, though at first encounter with a spoon I might have called it frog snot were I not so diplomatic. It is, in fact, made from the dried fatty tissue found near the fallopian tubes of frogs. If it’s new to you, Don’t think about it too much; it’s quite delicious once you get used to the mouth feel, especially when you stir in the warm milk and honey offered on the side.