Serious Eats
Snapshots from Asia: Phallic Sea Cucumbers
A friend of mine has a "theory" regarding Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). He reckons TCM stems from a simplistic belief the Chinese have: food resembling body parts must be beneficial for those same body parts. For instance, walnuts resemble the brain and are therefore nourishing for the brain. Ginseng roots look like little men (or voodoo dolls) and so are considered therapeutic for total body wellness. I'm no TCM expert, but a cursory search online indicates "ancient Chinese doctrines" (no citation whatsoever) support my friend's theory...
Add to this list the prized (and pricey) sea cucumber. With it's decidedly phallic appearance and behavior—"on being kneaded or disturbed slightly with fingers...it swells and stiffens, releasing a jet of water from one end...after releasing the jet, it looses its stiffness and reverts to its original state"—it's no great leap of the imagination deducing what the Chinese reckon it valuable for.
Considered a "potent aphrodisiac," the sea cucumber is also supposed to be excellent for joint health—with “remarkable healing properties”—and is much sought after in Asia. In fact, this demand led to “the first recorded instance of interaction between Indigenous Australians and their Asian neighbors” when the Asian traders bartered for the right to harvest the creatures from coastal waters.
Similar to clamming and crabbing, "trepanging" is the act of harvesting sea cucumbers from the sea floor. They are related to sea urchins and starfish, and are traditionally blanched and smoked before being transported to market. Once you’ve brought them home, sea cucumbers need to go through a tedious three-day process of overnight soaks, water changes, and boiling before they’re ready to be cooked. Some people find the gelatinous, blubbery texture off-putting, but I love the way it melts in my mouth after it has simmered for hours in a soy sauce and pork broth (it’s a much leaner alternative for fans of "dong bo" or three-layer pork!). Like tofu and tempeh, it takes on the flavors of whatever it’s simmered in. Poorly prepared sea cucumbers, however, have an obvious metallic tang and leave a nasty, slick aftertaste. I’ve noticed this to be most prevalent in sautéed—as opposed to braised—dishes, as well as when using commercially prepared (that three-day ordeal) sea cucumbers.
By the by, there’s evidence it’s healing properties aren’t just ballyhoo.