Taiwanese Tea Eggs

I will freely admit that these tea eggs start out with a departure from the more standard style of preparation that you'd find in Taiwan and mainland China. Hard-boiled eggs are the standard, and these are often hard-boiled to the point where the yolk is very dry and a bit greenish. While those hard-boiled eggs still soak up the wonderful tea-and-spice flavour of the sauce, I've always preferred a more golden and creamy/silky kind of yolk. In order to get that kind of texture and taste, I turned my attention north of Taiwan, towards Japan. From onsen eggs to shoyu eggs in ramen, Japan has a pretty clear love for eggs that straddle that silky-smooth, just-cooked line. Taiwanese people have a special fondness for Japanese food anyway, so I figure it's a good crossover to try out. My wife is the master of those delicious and just-set Japanese eggs around our house (and the master of ramen for that matter), so I turned to her for advice on getting these just right. There are quite a few techniques out there, ranging from steaming the eggs to cooking them in hot (but not boiling) still water, but we went with a simple method here. The eggs are gently added to just-simmering water, then cooked for about 8 minutes. It's pretty straightforward, but there are a couple of tricks to keep in mind to get the best results here:

1. Don't skimp on the water: you want a big pot that will easily accommodate all of the eggs.  This ensures that all of the eggs are covered, and that the temperature of the water doesn't drop too much when you add the eggs.  Either of these mistakes can make for undercooked eggs with runny yolks, rather than just-set ones.
2. Don't try to keep the water too hot: the water should be just simmering, not a rolling boil.  The latter can crack the eggs, and the hotspots on the bottom of the pan can also cook the yolks more on one side than the other.  Related to that note;
3. Try to turn the eggs over at about the halfway point: this will keep the heat from the bottom of the pot from cooking one side of the yolk too much.  You can also use an insert like a strainer or metal rack to keep the eggs suspended in the water and away from the bottom of the pot.
4. Consider your egg size: I like to use large eggs.  Medium eggs will cook a bit faster, while extra-large eggs might take another minute or two.

As is so often the case with these things, after I'd started planning I discovered that another great blogger has also tackled the idea of making 'medium-boiled' tea eggs. I was able to glean some wonderful information and tips from the fantastic Woks of Life blog. Be sure to check it out too - there are tons of wonderful Chinese recipes on their site.

I wanted to take a moment to explain how to crack the cooked eggs, because while it's pretty easy to do, it's also quite important to get right.

The idea is to crack the shell of the cooked egg evenly so that the tea and spice marinade can get through to the white beneath. This lets the flavour soak into the egg while leaving a particularly beautiful spider-web pattern of dark lines.

For best results, cool the cooked eggs just long enough to let you handle them comfortably, then gently hold each one in the palm of your hand and lightly tap it all over with the backside of a spoon (see the picture above). Hold the spoon by the end of the handle. I've seen many recipes that recommend doing this with a knife, but that's a lot more likely to break the white and lodge little pieces of shell in the egg. Aim for a relatively even distribution of cracks, without overdoing it in any one spot. Don't be concerned if a few small bits of shell fall off while you're cracking.

In addition to eggs (of course), there are three key components to this recipe - tea, soy sauces, and spices. If you're relatively new to Chinese cooking, some of these ingredients might be less familiar to you. Fortunately, this recipe is a really easy one to get started with, as the spices are left whole and no complicated cooking techniques are used.

As for the tea, I've used quintessentially Taiwanese oolong tea. Oolong is a semi-fermented tea, which gives it a distinctive and delightful flavour somewhere between green tea (which is unfermented) and black tea (which is fully fermented). Taiwanese oolong is fairly popular, and can be found at many tea shops. Oolong tea from China can also be wonderful (and in a few cases, wildly expensive). Tieguanyin is a particularly popular oolong from Fujian, China, that would work beautifully in this recipe.

I love oolong tea as the base for my tea eggs, but you can take this recipe in different directions too. I've seen recipes that call for Jasmine tea, green tea, black tea, and even flavoured teas. All have different characters and will affect the character of the final dish, so choose something you like. Given that the spices are fairly strong and bold, I personally think that a bolder tea (i.e. not a green tea) works best. That being said, follow your instincts.

I used loose-leaf tea here, but you could use a good bagged tea instead. You'll need about 4-6 bags, depending on the strength of the tea.

Many of the spices used here are familiar in the West thanks to the popularity of Chinese five-spice powder. You'll probably find tea egg recipes out there that simply substitute five-spice powder for the individual ingredients, but this short cut makes it tricky to get the right balance of flavours, and it will make for a messy broth (whole spices infuse flavour without leaving crushed bits floating on the surface). On top of that, whole spices will almost always yield you a better and fresher flavour that pre-ground ones, so it's worth it not to rely on a blend that may-or-may-not have been sitting in your cupboard for a few months too long. A trip to an Asian grocery store (or a well-stocked conventional grocery store) should yield all of these ingredients quite easily, and at very reasonable prices.

The basic five-spice mixture includes:

Cassia - There's a solid chance you already have cassia in your home, though it's probably labeled as cinnamon. Cassia and true cinnamon are closely related, and in North America cassia is frequently labeled simply as 'cinnamon,' while true cinnamon is given some other descriptor like Ceylon or Sri Lankan cinnamon. In the EU, cassia is supposed to be labeled properly. The flavours are broadly similar and, well... cinnamon-like. That being said, cassia has a somewhat bolder, more medicinal flavour, with a slight anise-like edge. If you're unsure about packaging, cassia quills will always be tight coils, like a single rolled up sheets, while true cinnamon quills appear feathery and split into many smaller leaf-like layers when viewed end-on. Cassia sold in Asian grocery stores is sometimes quite sheet-like, and not rolled into the familiar quills (see the photo above for example).

Cloves - While this ingredient is quite familiar to most Western cooks, many people rely on pre-ground cloves. You'll want to use whole cloves here - and frankly, once you start using them, you might not go back to pre-ground. The flavour is fresher, and cloves are surprisingly easy to grind with just a mortar and pestle.

Fennel Seeds - A fairly familiar ingredient, fennel is sometimes forgotten next to the bold and edgy flavour of star anise (which is completely unrelated, despite the name). Both ingredients contribute a licorice-like anise flavour, but they differ enough to contribute a different character to the dishes in which they're used together. While you can get away with leaving fennel out of this recipe, you'll end up with a somewhat more one-dimensional anise flavour.

Sichuan Pepper - Despite the annoyingly confusing name, this is not related to black pepper in any way, but is in fact the husk surrounding the small seed from a tree native to Asia.  It has a unique flavour somewhere between lemon and pine, but what really makes it interesting is the 'numbing' effect it has on the tongue and lips.  This numbing characteristic is considered absolutely essential in a number of Chinese dishes, especially those from the Sichuan region.

Star Anise - The Mandarin Chinese name bajiao (八角) literally means 'eight angles/corners,' a reference to the distinctive star-like appearance of this spice. Star anise is a powerful spice with a strong anise-like flavour. A little goes a very long way.

In addition to the essential five-spice ingredients listed above, this recipe also uses several other wonderful ingredients that are worth learning a little more about. Interestingly enough, some of these also find their way into certain five-spice blends (though the name doesn't change).

Black Cardamom - NOT the same as green cardamom, and definitely not interchangeable with it.  Black cardamom is intense, camphoric, and smoky.  It's an optional ingredient in this recipe, but I think it adds a fantastic character to the recipe.

Dried Orange Peel - You might find this labeled as dried mandarin or tangerine peel. In actuality, it could be any dried orange-like citrus peel. You can find this at any Asian grocery store, though I personally like to make my own. When mandarins are in season, I like to keep a few really nice peels and dry them out for use in Chinese recipes. I also very lightly toast my my dried orange peel, as I like the character it adds to recipes.

Bay Leaves - Yep, regular old dried bay leaves. Make sure that you use relatively fresh dried leaves (sounds like an oxymoron, but you get it), as they can lose a lot of flavour if stored too long.

Ginger - Simple, fresh ginger is all that's needed here. It doesn't even need to be peeled - just sliced into relatively thin sections. Do not substitute dried ginger, stem ginger, or candied ginger.

Rock Sugar - Not a spice per se, but worth mentioning here.  Rock sugar is crystallized sugar cane juice, often sold in large, clear, light yellow pieces.  You can certainly use plain white sugar or a pale golden brown sugar, but rock sugar has a great flavour that lands somewhere between the two, and it really lends itself to Chinese cooking.  If you're already shopping for the spices, pick some up - it's inexpensive, and easy to find at Asian grocery stores.  Rock sugar is easiest to use if you have a small kitchen scale, as it can be difficult to measure volumes.  Pro-tip (and weird tip): you can put it in a very durable thick fabric bag and smash it with a hammer if you need to break down pieces for recipes or measurements.  If you can't find rock sugar, look for organic sugar, which is also (generally) made from crystallized sugar cane juice.

As I mentioned in this Chinese pork recipe, not all soy sauces are created equal. Chinese dark and light soy sauces have different functions, flavours, production methods, and appearances.

Light soy sauce is what most people think of as 'regular' Chinese soy sauce. The name has nothing to do with calories or salt, and simply references the comparatively lighter colour of the soy sauce. In the bottle, this colour difference is subtle, but a small amount poured out in a spoon (for example) is noticeably lighter than dark soy sauce. Light soy sauce is almost never labeled as such, but you can generally assume that any Chinese all-purpose soy sauce is or can be used as light soy sauce.

Dark soy sauce is, as the name suggests, darker and more intensely coloured. It's considered a vital ingredient for adding a deep reddish brown colour to many Chinese dishes. Unlike light soy sauces, Chinese dark soy sauces are generally labeled as such.

Now I don't want to give you a false impression here; there's a lot more going on to these soy sauces than just colour. It's tempting to think that dark soy sauce would be more intensely flavoured, but the opposite is true. While dark soy sauce does provide a deep caramel colour and rich flavour, it's actually less salty and a little more subtle than it's lighter, brasher cousin. Using dark soy sauce alongside light soy sauce not only gives beautiful colour to Chinese dishes, it keeps them from ending up harsh-tasting and overly salty.

Note that there are also dark and light Japanese soy sauces. I haven't made tea eggs with these myself, but if you are comfortable with buying and using them, you could certainly give it a whirl.

You can play with the spices and the tea to suit your personal tastes and to make this recipe your own. In addition to this basic level of tweaking, it's worth mentioning a quick variation that lets you make these eggs in only a few hours. If you're short on time, you can peel the eggs and then add them to the marinade, then take them out after about 4 hours. They'll be uniformly dark brown instead of marbled, but they'll soak up the flavour a lot faster. If you do use this method, be sure to remove all of the eggs once you're happy with the flavour, as they'll continue to soak up the marinade and become stronger tasting if left much longer.