9 minute read
FEATURE: Master Stock
Taking stock
Master stock is nothing short of ubiquitous in Chinese cookery.
WORDS Annabelle Cloros
ACCORDING TO HERESY, some master stocks are more than a century old. You might take that with a grain of salt (or a splash of soy), but there’s no question master stock is a foundational part of Chinese cuisine, specifically Fujian and Cantonese cookery.
The stock comprises just a handful of elements: water, soy, sugar, cooking wine, aromatics and a protein. The idea is to continually add to it as it depletes, resulting in a complex flavour profile that’s hard to pinpoint — and that’s part of what makes it so great.
Hospitality speaks to Lotus Dining Group Head Chef Steve Wu and Mongkok Tea House Head Chef Jack Tsai about starting a master stock from scratch and why the process is a choose-your-own adventure.
Steve Wu learned how to make master stock from an all-time great — his mum. “Every family in China and Taiwan have their own secret recipe,” says the chef. “Master stock means stock with a meat flavour. It plays an important role in Chinese cuisine — we cook quite a lot of things with it; mainly pork and sometimes beef. It’s very well received by Chinese people because it’s soy-based and they like soy-based dishes.”
Wu calls on his closely guarded home recipe when building master stocks for Lotus Dining Group’s restaurants across Sydney, with the chef going heavy on spring onion and ginger to start the process. “It’s a combination of soy sauce, spices and herbs,” he says. “We put star anise, cassia bark and coriander seeds as well. Some restaurants use whole coriander to increase the flavour.”
Pork is a key component in the embryonic stages of making Wu’s master stock, with the chef opting to use the belly cut. “It has high fat and gelatin, so it gets thicker and thicker,” says Wu. “You can’t start without protein.”
Melbourne-based Chef Jack Tsai says master stock’s foundational status in Chinese cuisine is twofold and comes down to flavour and economics. “The idea is to repeatedly braise or poach meat and add more flavour every time so it builds depth from the aromatics and the protein/ veg you’re cooking,” he says. “It’s also good for economic reasons. When I was growing up, my sister was responsible for cooking for the family at one point and she would use the same liquid to cook pork, tofu and vegetables day to day. She wasn’t doing it in terms of thinking of using a master stock, it was more, ‘I have this liquid to flavour things, so let’s use it over and over’.”
Master stock is always on the go at Mongkok Tea House. Tsai prefers to “keep things simple” and says the ingredients largely come down to how you plan to use the stock. “When I worked in the UK, we did a test with fish master stock, which was lighter on the aromats,” he says. “It was more of an English restaurant, so we changed our approach and used European ingredients including leeks, onions, carrots and fresh herbs.”
Over at the Tea House, the kitchen takes a more traditional route. “Typically, you season with soy, rock sugar, shao xing wine, spring onion, ginger, citrus peel, star anise, cassia bark or cinnamon and garlic,” says Tsai. “Coriander and fennel seeds and white peppercorns are also options — you can pretty much add anything you want to it. The best part about master stock is that you don’t have to weigh anything or stick to specific measurements. For a standard stock pot (5–7L), you’d add half a bunch of spring onions, a knob of sliced ginger, a couple of cloves of garlic and a few pinches of spices. It depends on what flavours you want more of. I don’t mind more spring onion and ginger because I think they’re not as strong, whereas if you add too much star anise, it becomes overpowering.”
When it comes to cooking and later adding to master stock, the process is relatively straightforward. Wu starts with pork belly. “After you cook it, there will be fat on top of the stock, so you need to take it out,” says the chef. The aforementioned ingredients are then added before the liquid is boiled, strained, chilled and stored in the fridge. “Because it has a high amount of soy sauce — which is salt — and sugar, it preserves itself,” says Wu.
There are varying tiers of flavour when it comes to master stock. “We try to go from level one to 99,” says Wu. Technically, you can use the first batch, but the stock will taste very different in its original form compared to top-up number 30. “At the beginning, all your elements won’t bind together very well,” says Wu. “You can taste the soy sauce and the separate flavours of ginger, shallot and spices. The good thing about master stock is that it has the ability to bring every flavour together. After you cook it over a long period of time, it tastes very mild; it won’t shock your tongue.”
Wu estimates a restaurant could have a complex master stock ready in around two weeks; it depends on how many times you add to it. “It becomes more valuable,” says Wu. “If I cook 10kg of pork belly, I’ll top it up. It’s like a program; if you continuously top it up during lunch and dinner shifts, the product will be ready faster. I would say it needs 20–30 top ups with a cooked protein.” When making master stock, Tsai uses water as a base and brings soy, aromats and the other ingredients to the boil. “You let it cook for half an hour; that’s the simplest version,” he says. “Then you can use any type of stock; typically you’d use chicken for poaching chicken, so you can start with a white or brown chicken stock, add aromats, let it boil and infuse it for a bit.”
The chef replenishes the supply as it dwindles, adding more ingredients each time. Adequate straining and storage are essential to ensuring master stock remains in tip-top condition. “If you’re using it every three to five days, I’d keep it in an air-tight container so other things don’t make their way in,” says Tsai. “I bring it up to the boil to kill off any bacteria and then add more aromatics so you’re developing the flavour every time. If at any point you want to go in a different direction, you can add other ingredients to it. After you use it, cool it down over an ice bath so it spends minimal time in the danger zone. If you take proper care of it, boil it every time and cool it down properly, theoretically, it should maintain its shelf life.”
There are myriad culinary applications for master stock beyond braising meat. It can be used to make congee or enjoyed as a broth with noodles — basically, you can add it to whatever you’d like for an instant flavour boost.
At Lotus, master stock is found in one of the restaurant’s signature dishes. “We use it for our pork hock,” says Wu. “In the morning, we take the fat off the master stock, top it up with sugar, soy and spices and we boil the pork hock for up to six hours until the meat breaks down. We strain it, break up the meat and form it into a cube which is refrigerated before it’s deep fried and served with Chinese chilli caramel.” It’s also used in a cold dish. “After we cook the pork belly in the stock, we chill it, slice it and serve it with coriander,” says the chef.
While the word ‘master’ implies a certain level of achievement or status, Tsai says the name more relates to the application rather than the age of a stock or how many times it’s been built upon. “The term ‘master’ makes it sound like it’s 10 years old,” he says. “I think you can pretty much call it a master stock after one use; it’s about what you’re using it for.”
Mongkok Tea House’s current master stock-centric dish sees a protein traded with lion’s mane mushroom. “We’re braising lion’s mane and then pressing and searing it like a steak,” says Tsai. “With the flavouring in the stock, we’re going for more of a char siu style, so there’s red bean curd and maltose in the stock as well.”
On a more personal note, Tsai tips chicken as his most-enjoyed master stock application. “Poached chicken breast on the bone has a really great flavour and enhances the stock,” he says. “Eventually, it becomes a really tasty soup so you can throw noodles in and drink the whole thing.”
The ever-evolving nature of master stock makes it difficult to nail down a distinct flavour profile, with its robust character chopping and changing with time. “The best way to describe it is you’re not quite sure what’s in it,” says Tsai. “You can’t pinpoint the ingredients; maybe there are notes of ginger or star anise, but over time, it becomes more complex, which means it should be harder to distinguish what’s in the stock. It’s a choose-your-own adventure thing.” ■