The New York Times Magazine, Sunday, April 15, 2001

Party Animals
A Chinese feast with pigs and ducks — and friends.

by Jonathan Reynolds

David Waltuck, the chef and co-owner of the noted French restaurant Chanterelle, leans over a belly-down, butterflied suckling pig, which is asplat a cooking sheet in the restaurant's hustling kitchen. ''I come in at about 1,'' he says. ''It takes me an hour to locate everything, and then I start prepping. We just put stuff out as we cook, then we cook till we're exhausted.'' Mr. Pig has been hanging in the kitchen of the TriBeCa restaurant for a few days, absorbing five-spice powder, Sichuan peppercorns and other seasonings. ''People float in and out, talking, drinking, offering advice, sometimes even helping,'' the chef continues as he rubs peanut oil into the pig. ''This is the fourth or fifth time we've done this.''

''This'' is Waltuck's annual celebration of the Chinese New Year, although he is not Chinese, and this year — the Year of the Snake — his party did not occur on the actual holiday, but a month or so late. ''Some Chinese friends that I like to cook with said they always did a party for the New Year,'' he explains. ''Being not terribly social myself, I like people coming to my space, where I can work and talk but not have to concentrate on just talking. I'm not really a schmoozer. So I suggested doing it here because the kitchen is bigger and, well, more fun.''

And, indeed, what other kitchen in New York can boast, in addition to 16 burners, several ovens and walls of stainless-steel equipment, an Elvis shrine highlighted by a plaster bust of the King glowering down at a presumably appreciative little Buddha?

In part, the party is for Waltuck's staff. Since opening Chanterelle in SoHo in 1979, he and his wife and co-owner, Karen, have proudly served off-the-menu repasts to those who work for them, and David (with Melicia Phillips) has recently written a book on staff meals, featuring the more memorable ones, which are more casual than his Chanterelle fare, more akin to the food in his other restaurant, Le Zinc, at least in spirit.

At a nearby table, 11-year-old Sara Waltuck and her schoolmate Coco Yuk-Lui and Coco's father, Henry, roll and fill dumplings, sealing them with a plastic crimper.

"You know," Henry says, "the dumpling is shaped like an ancient Chinese gold piece." A trayful are taken away to be pan-fried. Henry continues: "We take food to an ancestor's grave. Americans scoff, saying, 'You really think they're going to wake up and eat it?' I say to them, 'You really think they're going to wake up and smell your flowers?" The kitchen staff breaks up.

"One year, Karen invited every person she knew, so we had to cut back," David adds. But if the crowd digging into his Asian feast has been downsized, it's hard to picture previous Waltuck Chinese New Year parties taking place anywhere but at Yankee Stadium. During the next five hours, nearly 200 people jostle for food and drink in the normally sedate dining room, which usually seats only 60. Many diners trying to make themselves heard over the karaoke machine are Chanterelle alums — over there, there's a former waitress who wound up at law school, and under the Chinese lanterns are the two women who used to work in the kitchen but now run the restaurant Annisa. There's a judge who was a high-school friend of David's, a kosher caterer from the neighborhood and two Chinese grandmothers whose granddaughters attend school with Sara. "If we hadn't gone into the kitchen, we would never have known the chef wasn't Chinese," they told her.

Although the kitchen is filled with experienced cooks, they rely on Waltuck during any uncertainty. And he seems to have a solution for everything: Ana Debevoise, who prepares hot appetizers, takes a fat, floured whole red snapper and places it in the wire frying basket, but it doesn't quite fit — the snapper must be bent. She tries it on the diagonal, on its belly, twisting it on its side, but it will not squeeze in without folding. Finally, she says, "David?" and Waltuck rushes over. He indicates that the fish should be fried straight in the fat — forget the basket — so Ana plops it in.

And the verdict on this busman's holiday from French cuisine? Is it Michael Jordan at midcareer venturing disastrously into baseball or Tony Bennett nearly ending his by trying to act in "The Oscar"? Neither.

For one thing, not only is this celebration an act of generosity; it's also an astonishing display of one chef's depth and virtuosity. This is not simply five different sauces meant to accompany a variety of meats; each of the 50 Thai and Chinese dishes is its own distinct creation. The precious jewel duck is a masterpiece. The snapper with ginger and scallion sauce is simple and a huge hit, as are the fish balls and, of course, the pigs, which we devour in minutes, their skin crackling and flesh juicy. Even the fortune cookies, made by the pastry chef, who also comes up with the fortunes, are special.

This is a couple who knows how to give a party. Perhaps they should also be urged to drop everything and open a Chinese restaurant, one where they can celebrate with a fine French Champagne at New Year's.


Precious Jewel Duck

2 cups uncooked glutinous (sticky) rice
2 to 6 links Chinese sausage, preferably made with some duck liver
1/4 cup diced Smithfield ham
1 5-pound duck
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup chopped, peeled freshwater chestnuts (about 6)
1/4 cup tiny dried shrimp, soaked overnight in water and drained
1/4 cup drained canned bamboo shoots, diced (Companion brand braised bamboo shoot tips recommended)
1/4 cup canned or fresh gingko nuts (shelled and blanched)
8 medium Chinese mushrooms, soaked until soft in water, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 bunch scallions, trimmed and coarsely chopped (white and tender green parts)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil
1 tablespoon dry sherry
2 to 3 teaspoons oyster sauce
Dark soy sauce or mushroom soy sauce for brushing duck.

1. Place the rice in a bowl, cover with cold water, swish around and drain in a sieve. Repeat twice. Cover with cold water and let soak at least 2 hours or overnight.
2. Drain rice and mix in sausage and ham. Place in a steamer basket lined with damp cheesecloth. Cover and steam over boiling water until tender, 45 to 60 minutes.
3. Bone the duck down the back. Season inside with salt and pepper.
4. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Mix the rice in a bowl with all the remaining ingredients except the soy sauce and taste for seasoning. Stuff the duck with as much rice mixture as possible and sew it up with kitchen twine. Rub the outside with soy sauce and prick all over with a fork to allow fat to drain. Place it breast side up on rack in a roasting pan.
5. Roast the duck for 45 minutes; drain off accumulated fat. Reduce oven temperature to 325 degrees and roast 40 to 45 minutes longer, until skin is a nice dark brown.
Yield: 6 to 8 servings.


Deep-Fried String Beans

4 cups peanut oil
1-1/2 pounds green beans, trimmed
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon good-quality soy sauce
2 teaspoons dark sesame oil
2 teaspoons water
1 tablespoon peeled and finely chopped garlic
1 tablespoon peeled and finely chopped fresh ginger
1/2 cup chopped Sichuan preserved vegetable (about 3/4 of 1 large), rinsed (see note)
1/4 cup dried shrimp, finely chopped
3 tablespoons trimmed and thinly sliced scallions (white and tender green parts)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar.

1. Heat the oil in a wok or deep skillet to 375 degrees and deep-fry green beans 2 minutes, until crisp-tender and bright green. Drain well and pat dry with paper towels.
2. Dissolve sugar in a mixture of the soy sauce, sesame oil and water.
3. Drain off all but 2 tablespoons oil in the wok, heat to almost smoking and stir-fry garlic and ginger a few seconds. Add the preserved vegetable and shrimp and stir-fry until aromatic but not browned. Add sugar mixture and green beans and stir-fry until evenly glazed. Add the scallions and vinegar and toss. Serve hot or at room temperature.
Yield: 6 servings.
NOTE: Sichuan preserved vegetable is available at Kam Man Food Products, (212) 571-0330.


Roast Suckling Pig

For the pig:
1 suckling pig (12 to 14 pounds dressed weight), butterflied (see note)
2 tablespoons Sichuan peppercorns
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
2 tablespoons fennel seeds
1/4 cup coarse salt
3 tablespoons Chinese five-spice powder
1/4 cup peanut or vegetable oil

For the sauce:
1/2 cup hoisin sauce
2 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons dark sesame oil
Beijing pig pancakes (see recipe)
8 scallions, trimmed and chopped.

1. Measure oven to see if the pig can lie flat on a baking sheet or if it must be cut at the joints and folded. Grind peppercorns and fennel seeds, then mix with salt and five-spice powder and rub inside and outside pig; hang it up for a few hours or overnight (to crisp skin).
2. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place the pig on a large baking sheet, rub with oil and cover the ears with foil. Roast 30 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 degrees and roast 1 1/2 hours, until skin is browned and crisp.
3. For the sauce, combine hoisin, water and oil in a bowl and mix.
4. To serve, cut the skin into squares and shred. Spread sauce on a pancake, add a piece of skin, then some pork and scallions. Fold the pancake and wiggle your tongue. Yield: 6 to 8 servings.
NOTE: Suckling pig is available at Ottomanelli & Sons, (212) 675-4217.


Beijing Pig Pancakes

2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
6 ounces boiling water
Dark sesame oil for brushing.

Combine flour and water in a bowl and stir until smooth. Knead on a work surface for 10 minutes. On a floured surface with a floured rolling pin, roll to 1/4-inch thickness. Using a cookie cutter, cut out circles 2 1/2 inches wide. Brush tops with sesame oil and join into pairs, oiled sides together. Roll out each pair into a 6-inch round. Cook in a nonstick skillet over medium heat, 2 minutes per side.
Yield: 10 to 14 pancakes.


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