







Next to tacos, pizza and burgers, Chinese take-out has long been a fast food favorite in the US. Despite its popularity, American Chinese fare is often met with either bemusement or mild disgust from Chinese foodies and know-it-all posers. But even if the flavors aren’t deemed “authentic”—a deeply subjective concept—it doesn’t mean that American Chinese food can’t be delicious, as a fusion of two cultures, like an Ang Lee movie or Rob Schneider. It especially doesn’t mean that this proud mongrel cuisine isn’t just as tasty as Chinese fare from the PRC.







To put that notion to the test, we’re pitting American Chinese classics against the Mainland staples they evolved from to see which country does it better, based on our exactingly scientific rating system and criteria. We have assembled an international panel of Chinese from around the world. These self-proclaimed experts in eating and critiquing have sampled dishes at Fortune Cookie, the Shanghai-based restaurant that specializes in American Chinese food, and compared the Stateside version to its original Mainland incarnation to determine which is the better dish. In cases where the chosen dish was of uncertain provenance, we opted to forgo a paternity test (we all know the father is Cantonese — just look at that telltale goopy sauce!) and pick a lesser-known regional cuisine to be China’s champion against the American imperialists.





Besides, having Hong Kong represent the PRC is basically cheating.





The Experts/Judges





Mei Yin, an Australian/Malaysian Chinese mongrel who's spent stints in Beijing and South East Asia; ranks Hangzhou,Taiwanese and Hong Kong Cantonese dishes as her top Chinese cuisines.





Our resident Caucasian-Chinese is Charlie Cooper, listing Dongbei, Hong Kong Cantonese and Xinjiang food as among his preferred cuisines.





Sayn, a local from Nanjing and Mainland foodie, enjoys Sichuan, Yunnan and Taiwanese dishes.





Ella Wong, a half British/half Hong Kong mix with an encyclopedic knowledge of the city's food, favors Yunnan, Xinjiang and Cantonese cuisines.





Lastly, Richard, an ABT (American Born Taiwanese) who's eaten many an Egg Foo Young in his time, rates Dongbei, Cantonese and Taiwanese as his top Chinese food picks.









Dishes

Round One: Gongbao Jiding vs. Brooklyn Kung Po Chicken

Origin: Sichuan









Dish Connection: Fortune Cookie’s Brooklyn Kung Po Chicken is a direct descendent of Gōngbǎo Jīdīng (宫保鸡丁), a stir-fry of diced chicken with chilies, Sichuan pepper, spring onions and peanuts. A Sichuanese classic that’s entered the national pantheon of jiāchángcài, or “home-style dishes,” and become a perennial lǎowài favorite in the process, the Gōngbǎo Jīdīng found in China varies wildly in flavor from one restaurant to the next — particularly in its balance of spice, sweetness and saltiness. It should have a kick and be pleasingly málà with those numbing Sichuan peppercorns complimented by the Shaoxing wine marinade.

The American take on one of Sichuan's most well-known dishes relinquishes spice and gives center stage to the umami marinade along with the natural flavor of the meat. The addition of cucumber pieces in place of scallions, along with the standard peanuts, adds some crunch to a thankfully less oleaginous dish.









Verdict: While the judges enjoyed the lightness of the Brooklyn Kung Po Chicken's sauce, the lack of spice that characterizes Gōngbǎo Jīdīng made the dish just a touch unexciting. “I miss the má,” Ella lamented.





Round Two: Ban Hundun vs. Crab Rangoon

Origin: Regional variations throughout China (Yún Tūn, Hún Dùn,Zhà Húntun, etc.)









Dish Connection: The origins of Crab Rangoon are a matter of dispute, but it’s safe to assume they almost certainly have nothing to do with Burmese cuisine. Said to have first appeared on the menu of a San Franciscan eatery, these deep fried parcels of cream cheese and imitation crab meat most closely resemble wonton (云吞), the Cantonese shrimp-based iteration of húntun, a type of boiled or deep-fried dumpling with several regional variations across China. In Shanghai, where our anointed competitor hails from, húndun (馄炖) are hearty affairs with a choice of pork-based fillings,and often available bàn (拌), that is tossed, with a sesame sauce. Naturally, the American version ups the ante (and calories) by adding cream cheese and throwing the dumplings in a deep fat fryer. Although deep-fried, or zhá, húntun (炸馄饨) also exist in China, the boiled version is the norm.









Verdict: On paper, the American incarnation sounds superior but as Sayn pointed out, it’s a case of “too much icing on the cake.” Although the dish works as an appetizer,even the most freedom-loving Yank would struggle to eat a whole bowl of rangoons. Yet despite the unanimous endorsement of Shanghai-style bàn húndun, our panel was divided: Four judges would have cast ballots for the American invention if they were matched against the similarly-cooked-but-cream-cheese-free zhá húntun.





Round Three: Mapo Doufu vs. Mapo Tofu Cheese Fries

Origin: Sichuan









Dish Connection: This Sichuan classic of soft tofu chunks covered in ground meat and bobbing in a red swamp of chili oil and Sichuan pepper is probably an alien sight to the average American. The original, wobbly Mápó Dòufǔ is a goopy affair, and while the fiery sauce and distinctive anesthetizing numb of Sichuan pepper is mellowed by the neutral tofu, the dish is considered very xiàfàn, meaning it’s best accompanied with a hearty amount of rice.

In a savvy nod to the need for a carby base, the American take on Mápó Dòufǔ brings a much tastier starch to the table than plain ol’ mǐfàn. In fact, the fries, along with the melted gouda, also serve as a satisfyingly greasy replacement for the heavy dose of oil that’s unavoidable when eating the original.









Verdict: Injecting new life into a Sichuan classic, Mapo Tofu Cheese Fries is an irresistible, ingenious Sinicization of chili cheese fries which retains the moreish flavor profile of the original but improves it with the addition of a cheese blanket and a bed of fries. As Richard noted, “This is a dish you'd come back for."





Round Four: Guo Bao Rou vs. Sweet and Sour Pork

Origins: Regional variations throughout China (Guō Bāo Ròu, Gūlū Ròu, Tángcùlǐjǐ etc.)









Dish Connection: Often mistakenly dismissed as an in authentic, sickly-sweet concession to gweilo palates, the Chinese American Sweet and Sour Pork is in fact derived from the Cantonese iteration of a dish that’s found in various forms throughout China’s regional cuisines — in this case, gulo yuk. As the American version tends to be almost identical to the Hong Kong version, we have chosen to instead compare Sweet and Sour Pork with Guō Bāo Ròu. A Dongbei favorite, GuōBāo Ròu consists of large, flattened pieces of battered pork covered with a light, tangy sauce of vinegar sweetenedwith sugar and topped with strips of ginger and carrot. The American Chinese sweet and sour dish is richer than its Northeastern cousin; the ketchup-based sauce is indeed sweet but not artificially so. Like Guō Bāo Ròu, the meat is boneless and tender, but the addition of pineapple and bell peppers give greater balance and variety.









Verdict: Most of our panel agreed that the better batter and tangy, richer sauce managed to give American Chinese food the edge over Dongbei's more tart offering. In Charlie’s words, “The 'sweet' is a different, refreshing kind of sweet.”





Round Five: Muxu Rou vs. Moo Shu Pork

Origin: Possibly Shandong









Dish Connection: Moo Shu Pork is the non-identical American twin of Mùxū Ròu (木须肉), a mix of sliced slivers of pork, cucumber, scrambled egg and black wood ear mushrooms, seasoned with rice wine. Typically served gàifàn, or over rice, Mùxū Ròuis a simple dish that’s light on sauce and spices. Its migration to the American Chinese dining table has seen it become a heartier affair, with carrots, beansprouts, cabbage and snow peas,among other vegetables, being added, along with corn starch as a sauce thickener. The defining American addition, however, is an accompanying stack of pancakes, which diners use to wrap the pork and veggie mix in, fajita-style. Hold the mǐfàn on this one.









Verdict: Chinese Mùxū Ròu tends to be a fairly forgettable affair. As with the Mapo Tofu Cheese Fries, the American innovations — a better carb and a greater variety of ingredients — make for a more memorable and satisfying meal. As Richard observed, “The essence of Chinese food to me is that it should be a combination of flavors; this is.”







CONCLUSION

With three wins over the Mainland’s two, American Chinese food is our winner! Of course, this could be down to Fortune Cookie’s unusually well-executed takes on a much maligned cuisine. Or it could be that Cantonese food, which much of American Chinese fare has evolved from, is considered by many to be China’s strongest regional cuisine.





Either way, it proves that American Chinese food isn’t just lazy, laowai-pleasing fare, but an inventive cuisine that, while not as old or as esteemed as its mother cuisine, has drawn on its rich heritage and adopted new features from its adopted homeland to create terrific fusion fare.





But there’s no denying that China, with its long culinary history and thousands (upon thousands) of dishes, is the more impressive cuisine overall. Fortune Cookie co-founder Fung explained that the restaurant culled their menu from a list of over 140 American Chinese recipes — a formidable number to be sure, but a drop in the ocean compared to China’s abundant culinary repertoire. Sadly, people outside of China are still missing out on the sheer variety of regional fare available here, from Yunnan’s spicy salads to Xinjiang’s roasted lamb. Let’s hope that in time, maybe American Chinese food may adapt some of these delectable dishes. With cream cheese.







