Solid gold salt

Editor's note: China is divided into as many culinary regions as there are different ethnic groups. Its geographical diversity and kaleidoscopic cultural profiles contribute to an unending banquet of flavors.

Chinese cuisine places great importance on salt. It is looked upon as the enhancer of natural flavors, but working in the background so other ingredients can shine up front.

For this quality, it has been given the highest accolade, a comparison with Chinese society's most respected class - "A gentleman is like an orchid, a gentleman is like salt".

Yet, for all its genteel qualities, the salt trade in China was once a power base for palace eunuchs and their cronies. The salt monopoly had a murky, sometimes bloody history full of corruption, intrigue and trickery, as the old salt merchants of Yangzhou and Tianjin would testify.

Beef is a main ingredient of 'salt clan cuisine' which features hearty oily stews, heavily spiced with prickly ash berries and chili peppers. Yi Lisha / For China Daily

These cities represented the two depots of the salt trade, one at each end of the Grand Canal, the main distribution channel at that time.

Only favored merchants were granted licenses to trade salt and these were often bought through power-brokers well-connected with the palace.

So salt also inspired banditry, and the loaded barges full of the white crystals had to be escorted by heavily armed guards to ensure their safe delivery. Salt was worth its weight in gold.

The reason was its scarcity, the difficulty in getting supplies and the huge demand throughout the Middle Kingdom.

Along the coastline, only a few places had usable salt fields and, even then, the quality was erratic, often too rough for gourmet kitchens.

Sea salt was one option. China also had well salt, cliff salt, rock salt, lake salt and salt from mines - all difficult to extract and laborious to process.

Sichuan was famous for salt from brine extracted from subterranean wells. These were very deep and it took all the strength of many grown men and water buffaloes to draw up the brine.

It was then slowly cooked until all the moisture evaporated, leaving the purest salt crystals.

This was a good quality salt and it inspired the "salt clan cuisine" of Sichuan, which could be divided into workers' menus and merchants' menus.

The workers preferred hearty oily stews, heavily spiced with prickly ash berries and chili peppers, and deeply salted, of course. Beef was a main ingredient, and the practical Sichuan natives never wasted any food, even if the animal had labored long for them at the brine wells while alive.

While Sichuan salt workers simply tossed what was at hand into the pot, the salt merchants of Yangzhou, and to a lesser extent Tianjin, were a lot more sophisticated.

They were one step removed from the grime and sweat of production and, as wholesalers and distributors, enjoyed the rich profits that came with the trade.

But they were merchants, not noblemen nor scholars, and they were denied entry into high society. Much as they wanted that recognition, they were a little like the present day yokel barons of China's nouveau riche.

To compensate, they built elaborate and decadent mansions and employed chefs who produced equally decadent banquets for their friends. So another type of "salt clan cuisine" evolved here.

In other pockets of culinary creativity, salt allowed the hill tribes of ancient Dali in Yunnan to produce tasty ham from the free-roaming black pigs of that region. This is the famous Nuodeng ham, which uses nothing but natural salt from the well.

The magic takes time: The hams are hung for at least three years before they are eaten. These Nuodeng hams are the only ones that can be safely eaten raw.

In the South of China, the Hakka people also look at salt as an all-important part of their cuisine. The Hakkas have an itinerant history, having wandered far from their original homeland. In their wanderings they learned to preserve their food in salt and to actually cook food in it.

Meicai, a sweet pickled vegetable, is an essential ingredient. It is a type of mustard green and is brined and then hung up to dry. Once preserved, the vegetable acts as both ingredient and seasoning and is often cooked with pork.

But the signature Hakka dish is the festive salt-baked chicken, a whole bird wrapped in parchment and then smothered in piping-hot rock salt to bake in the wok.

There are many examples of how salt is treasured in Chinese cuisine and there is no doubt that, of the five tastes, saltiness is the most appreciated - for no one turns away from a well-flavored savory dish.

paulined@chinadaily.com.cn

Salt-baked chicken

A whole chicken, about 1.5 kg

2 kg rough sea salt or crushed rock salt

1 cup rice wine

1 teaspoon ginger juice

1 teaspoon salt

50 g wolfberries

First, clean the chicken well. Rinse and set aside to dry off. The chicken should be at room temperature.

Mix together ginger juice, salt and rice wine. Apply the mixture generously all over the chicken, rubbing it into the skin. Place any remaining liquid inside the chicken cavity, together with the wolfberries. Wrap the chicken well in two layers of kitchen parchment paper. Leave to marinate.

In a large cast iron wok, fry the rock salt until it is very hot and almost smoking.

Place the chicken parcel in the wok and cover well with rock salt. Cover the wok and lower the fire to medium. Cook for half an hour. Turn off the heat but do not remove the cover. Let the chicken sit for another 15 minutes or so before unwrapping.

Carefully remove the skin in large sections, and set aside. Shred the meat into large chunks and pile onto serving plate, before topping with the chicken skin. This is the traditional way to serve, but you can just chop up the bird into serving portions.

Serve with a minced ginger dip.

Minced ginger dip

2 tablespoons minced ginger

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon hot oil, plus 1 teaspoon sesame oil

Mix ginger and salt together. Scald the mixture with hot oil.