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Grocery Ninja: Thousand-Year-Old Eggs and the Horse Urine Myth

The Grocery Ninja leaves no aisle unexplored, no jar unopened, no produce untasted. Creep along with her below, and read her past market missions here.

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Photographs from FotoosVanRobin on Flickr

My mom’s visiting this week, and I’ve noticed something: Every time my Russian housemate asks about one of the more pungent foods she’s eating, Mom will cock her head to one side, and after much deliberation, respond, “It’s like cheese.” Since a great bulk of what she’s eating most decidedly does not taste like cheese, I’ve puzzled over why her mind leaps to associate the punchier flavors in the Asian larder with it. My theory: For Mom, cheese is one of the most confrontational foods she’s had to share a table with. Hence, in her world, “tastes like cheese” is a most apt descriptor—a Western segue to a Chinese reckoning.

Which, of course, leaves you a tad leery about what I’m about to introduce, doesn’t it?

With all the frenzy over eggs this past Easter weekend, I thought it apropos to share the granddaddy of them all: thousand-year-old eggs. Also called century eggs, these are chicken or duck eggs that have been cured in a mix of clay, ash, salt, lime, and rice husks over a period of weeks or even months. The resulting preserved egg, with its quivery, translucent, amber colored (almost black) “white,” and Chernobyl sunset yolk, has been described as “cheeselike.”

20080324eggrow.jpgFor someone who loathed century eggs as a child, yet loved a good, sharp Roquefort, I am unable to parrot that in good conscience. Instead, I will say that texture-wise, the egg’s aspic-like “white” and creamy yolk is known to provoke violent likes and equally violent dislikes. Ditto its sharp, almost astringent flavor and bold, brassy mouthfeel. Oh, and the smell. The smell deserves special mention. For the longest time, I believed the eggs were cured in horse urine, a popular myth corroborated by their very distinct pong of hellfire and brimstone (ammonia and sulfur… you see why I could not share these in Easter proper.)

Having said that, they do grow on you. The adult me is quite fond of them in my pork congee, or steamed with slivers of salted duck egg in a savory egg custard (a la Japanese chawanmushi) – though I still cringe if I accidentally bite into a larger than expected chunk. Serious Eaters may have noticed it appearing on Japanese menus as silken tofu squares topped with century egg-spiked aioli, crunchy tobiko, and snipped chives… a jazzed-up take on the Taiwanese version of cubed century eggs atop cold tofu, drizzled with sesame oil and soy sauce. Fancy, “diluted” versions aside, people who really, really like century egg have it simply wrapped in pickled ginger, or tossed with black vinegar, mint, and hot peppers.

In Asia, the eggs are sold still wrapped in what look like straw coats – remnants of the original curing mix. You crack their coats before digging into their quivery, velvety insides. In the States, you’ll find them sans coats, but with mottled shells intact, sitting pretty in Styrofoam nests. If you’re lucky, you’ll be faced with a decision: do you get the ordinary century eggs “pi dan,” or the pine flower century eggs “song hua pi dan” – so named for the pretty, snowflake pattern left behind on the egg “white" when shelled? How the patterns come about is a mystery. They don’t taste any different though.

There are people who argue that the clay used in different regions, as well as the addition of tea leaves in the curing mix, give rise to varied flavor nuances – similar to terroir in wines. To be honest, I’ve never been able to discern a difference in the eggs I’ve encountered here, and my guess is you would have to do an on-the-ground, village-to-village taste test to sniff that difference out. Oh, and beware the box that does not say “lead free” on the label – lead oxide is sometimes added to the curing mix to speed up the process.

So, no, century eggs do not taste like cheese. Not the kind I’ve ever come across, anyway, and I’m sure even the evilest smelling washed rind would not reek so reminiscently of hell. (Poor, maligned cheese. Why does it always get fingered when people are confronted with challenging foods? I mean, why not say it’s like licorice, boiled mutton, or even cilantro?) They can be pretty good though… in an “acquired taste” kind of way.

About the author: Wan Yan Ling is an impoverished grad student and sourdough finger-crosser living in Rhode Island. She can usually be found in the kitchen procrastinating on "real work" or online tracking down obscure recipes. Ling thinks eating alone is no fun, and she still believes in hand-mixing.

View other entries from Grocery Ninja.

16 Comments:

Century eggs most definitely do not taste like cheese. But I love them anyway; I used to eat them all the time in pork congee.

I love these! I make a tofu dish w/ these as well as in congee. mm.

ok -- stupid question. or clarification. These eggs are NOT cured for 1,000 years -- right?

I beg to differ, friends. Living in Taiwan 20 years ago, after having eyed them warily for some time, I tried pidan for the first time, and the very first thing that came to mind was blue cheese. In my experience, it's about the only thing in Chinese cuisine that's truly evocative of any kind of cheese. Not that I'd want to spread it on a cracker. But I've come to love them. It should be mentioned too that "pidan" translates into something like "leather egg," an interesting way of describing them; in Taiwan, in my experience, this is what they're almost always called.

queenkv: no, they're not... they're cured from 30-50 days... though they certainly look prehistoric ;)

Barry Foy: that's interesting... which blue cheese in particular? i'll have to track it down for the next "bring a surprise plate" party =p

one of my favourite dim sum food. century egg porridge. *yum* and also when i'm lazy, steam egg with quartered century eggs - eat it with steamed white rice... comfort food.

but i agree, it doesn't taste like cheese.

I love Pi Dan! I sliced them up with soy sauce, sesame oil, garlic and a dash of rice wine vinegar. In congee or just plain rice. I love the stuff.

I can also see how someone can describe it as being like a blue cheese. The pungency maybe be similar. Century eggs are like the Tofu Lu you wrote about earlier this month...pungent, salty and nasal clearing.

I hate to be a born in a tiny Midwest town and never gotten off the continent girl but ok I am. I thought this was a Jell-O type thing with a kiwi. I swear that is what it looks like until you really look at it and scroll down. I will eat nearly anything including rattlesnake and I love sushi but this item scares me. I love to learn about new things but I can smell it when I look at the picture and it does not smell good:) so thank you brave explorer of everything for going where I fear to tread but want to read.

love2cook: it's really a lot tamer than it looks, but it does bite back the first few times you taste it ;) personally, it smells a lot better to me than a wet dog, so...

I've had rattlesnake. I did not find it particularly adventurous. But if it is for you, then yeah, this may be a bit outside of your palette.

If you do want to try it, it's probably a lot easier to start out with it chopped into congee.

They're more sulfurous than actually cheese-like, IMO.

I've never tasted cheese that had that same assertive...volcanic... flavor...almost wandering into the realm of not resembling an animal product (It also looks quite like a rock until you peel it and slice it open)

That said, pidan are quite tasty with the right accompaniment and the right dosage.

if it's your first time to try it i'd have to agree with some of the posteres here: try it with congee.. lessens the shock to your tastebuds.. ;p

with regard to the egg tasting like [blue] cheese.. i'd have to disagree.. this has a more musky(?), rather than moldy, flavor..

it also goes well with instant noodles.. ^_^

musky and volcanic... definitely apt descriptors =)
i think diluting pidan's intensity of flavor by having it with congee, tofu, or in a steamed egg custard dish would be good for pidan virgins!

has anyone tried pidan in sweets? i've spied them in lotus seed (lian rong) pastries in chinatown bakeries...

My family has always eaten them in a tofu 'salad' - cubed silken tofu, cubed pidan, a handful of spring onion and pork floss, topped with a little soy sauce and sesame oil. I remember as a kid being a bit leery of the way it looked, but having grown up with the taste, I love how creamy and rich it tastes, and it provides a good contrast to the other ingredients in the dish (sometimes I still cringe a bit looking at it). I don't think I've ever noticed a smell, however.

abstract_duck: for me, the smell comes on when i start chewing... not while its sitting all innocuous on the plate... my housemate could smell it from a long way off, though =p

The first time I spotted these on Wikipedia, I swore I'd never try them, and that's saying something because I love trying new weird foods from other cultures. But you really have a talent with words concerning food, because now I really want to try a "diluted" version sometime just to see what it tastes like! I'll have to hunt down a restaurant in Chinatown that makes a dish with this in it!

And as a side note, I've been reading your column non stop between calls at work since I found it yesterday and I love it! I'm like you in that I love to go to ethnic grocery stores and try new things. It makes me want to go out and buy some new stuff soon. Thank you!

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