Hua Diao Dong Po Braised Pork Without Sugar, A Secret Dish for Future Father-in-law | All the Time You Enjoy Wasting Is Not Wasted
This is a dish that takes 5 hours to cook and 5 minutes to eat. For a rich dish like braised pork, I never accept simplified versions. Since we don't eat it every day, we should pursue the ultimate taste and sense of ceremony. Braised pork is my father's secret skill, a New Year dish he only makes during the holidays. He cooks two pots at a time, and I might not even get a share because guests come first. Some methods are family traditions, some are borrowed from Hunan-style braised pork, and some are inspired by Dong Po pork. After constant tweaking, it has unknowingly become even more delicious than my father's version. I made it when your brother came to Suzhou to visit us. You don't eat fatty meat, let alone sweet fatty meat, but you still ate four or five pieces of this big meat. I felt quite accomplished, haha. This time, it's a bit different from what you ate. I tried adding dried chili peppers, which don't make it spicy but add a finishing touch, making it even more delicious and more suited to your family's taste. Now it's even more suitable to keep as a secret dish for my future father-in-law, wahahaha. Two taels of white wine and a few pieces of meat—such comfort, no father-in-law can resist. Although this method is time-consuming, it's not difficult. Follow the steps carefully, and there's no technical challenge. I've improved the parts that are prone to failure. You don't need to caramelize sugar; just pay attention to the quality of the meat, wine, and brown sugar, and you can effortlessly make this braised pork that's rich but not greasy, so delicious you can't stop eating it.
Ingredients
Steps
Go to the market early in the morning to pick pork belly. Neither too lean nor too fatty is ideal. The so-called 'five-layered' pork must have one layer of skin, two layers of fat, three layers of meat, four layers of fat, and five layers of meat—this is the most suitable. Brown sugar is the key secret. Remember, it's not the red sugar sold in supermarkets—that's fake. Buy traditional brown sugar in blocks to avoid pitfalls. Also, avoid black sugar. Using brown sugar has two very important benefits: first, you don't need to caramelize sugar, avoiding the most difficult technical step; second, and more importantly, brown sugar isn't purely sweet—it combines sweet and salty flavors, resulting in a richer taste, and no matter how much you add, it won't be cloying. Hua Diao wine is the most suitable. Note that it's not the Hua Diao produced in Jiangsu or Shanghai, which has low alcohol content and high sugar, ruining the flavor. Use Shaoxing-produced Hua Diao, and it doesn't need to be aged too long—older Hua Diao can be too strong. Two bottles of the basic Guyue Longshan are sufficient, and they're relatively easy to find in supermarkets nationwide.
After buying the whole piece of meat, I usually trim it, cutting off parts that don't meet the 'five-layered' standard. The extra meat can be stored in the fridge for other dishes. The remaining part is first cut into long strips. Sometimes, there might be pig hair on the skin. I don't like the burning method, as it leaves a strange taste. I prefer using a disposable razor.
First, boil the meat—preferably in a pressure cooker for better results. Use plenty of water and add a slice of ginger. This step ensures the pork belly has enough moisture, making the meat melt in your mouth.
Splash some Hua Diao wine in—the amount is flexible. Then cover and cook for 10 minutes after the steam rises.
Prepare a bowl of ice water. After the pressure cooker cools naturally, open the lid, take out the meat, and plunge it into the cold water. The rapid heating and cooling will lock in the moisture. I can't find the picture of the meat in cold water—maybe I forgot to take it, haha. After soaking in cold water, dry the meat with paper towels. The broth from boiling the meat can be saved as stock.
Then cut the meat into 5cm cubes. I prefer larger pieces for a more satisfying bite, allowing the layered texture of the pork belly to shine.
Next, stir-fry the meat cubes. Use a wok—if it's non-stick, no oil is needed. For other pans, use no more than a spoonful of oil to prevent sticking. Heat the pan to medium, then reduce to low, add the meat, and stir-fry slowly for about 15 to 20 minutes.
This step tests patience the most. Never rush by turning up the heat—slow frying is key. This step serves three purposes: first, it renders out excess fat, making the dish less greasy; second, the fried meat surface develops pores, absorbing richer flavors; third, the fried meat combines with semi-caramelized sugar, creating a crispy exterior that melts in your mouth—pure bliss. But if the heat is too high, the carefully locked-in moisture will escape, making it hard to achieve that melt-in-your-mouth texture. While frying the meat, remember to boil a pot of water.
Transfer the fried meat to a large bowl. Don't discard the rendered fat—save it in a small bowl. It's excellent lard, perfect for stir-frying leafy greens.
Pour freshly boiled water into the bowl—the hot water will wash away the excess oil.
Now, the clay pot takes the stage. Line the bottom with a generous amount of scallions.
Then arrange the meat on top of the scallions. The skin shouldn't face outward or touch the pot bottom to avoid burning.
Evenly place the cinnamon, star anise, ginger slices, garlic cloves, and brown sugar chunks on top.
Pour the entire bottle of Hua Diao wine over the meat, enough to barely cover it. Add the dried chili peppers. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a simmer.
Simmer for an hour. After an hour, open the lid—the meat will have started to take on color.
Remove the scallions from the bottom to prevent them from absorbing all the sauce.
Add half a spoon of salt, flip the meat, and cover to simmer for another half hour. Pots vary, so if the sauce seems too little at this stage, add some hot water. The salt here will enhance the sweetness. If the brown sugar is good, you can skip the salt.
After another half hour, the meat will turn from dark to red. This is because the moisture has evaporated, and the oil-sugar mixture dominates. This is the only slightly technical step: reduce the sauce over high heat, drying it out but being careful not to burn it. Once the liquid turns oily, turn off the heat and serve.
In my hometown, it's served with wedding buns—a rare bun-eating scene in rice-dominated Zhejiang. Of course, it's also great with rice.
From buying the meat to finishing the dish, it takes 5 hours. Then I alone turn it into this in 5 minutes. I saved two pieces, reluctant to eat them, planning to add some yam next time—another great meal!