Stone Leek

Stone Leek

　　Most people have eaten regular leeks, but you might not have heard of stone leek. As the name suggests, stone leek is a wild variety that grows on rocks. In some places, it's called wild leek, and in Conghua and Fogang, it's even referred to as Guanyin vegetable.

　　　　Stone leeks in Guangdong grow wild in limestone regions, sprouting vigorously in small pockets of soil nestled within rocky crevices. Some agricultural companies have even developed cultivation projects for them in places like Conghua, so you can sometimes find packaged versions in supermarkets. But wild vegetables aren’t as trendy these days, so if you want to try them, you’ll probably need to look for them at local markets in the growing areas.

　　　　Strangely enough, wild vegetables are usually smaller and thinner than their cultivated counterparts—especially those that grow on rocks. Yet this stone leek is much taller and heartier than the common variety we’re used to. The first time I brought two bunches back from Ruyuan, my father even mistook them for wild orchids I’d picked up in the mountains and didn’t dare put them in the pot.

　　　　Leeks often leave fibers stuck between your teeth, making them a bit inconvenient to eat. But stone leeks harvested around the Qingming Festival have none of these issues. They’re crisp and refreshing, and their aroma isn’t as overpowering as that of cultivated leeks—you won’t be left with a lingering aftertaste. So every April and May, if friends are traveling from Shaoguan to Guangzhou, I always ask them to bring me two or three pounds of stone leek.

　　　　There’s not much fuss when it comes to cooking it either. Since it’s a lean ingredient, it’s typically stir-fried with salted pork or streaky pork belly. The most authentic way to enjoy it, though, is stir-fried with Yao-style cured meat. The leeks, soaked in rich fat, fan out jade-green across the plate, dotted with slices of about one-inch-wide crimson meat. The fragrance wafts through the air even before it’s served, making everyone in the house—and the floors above and below—crave a taste.

　　　　Not wanting to always trouble my friends to bring cured meat from the countryside, I came up with a great alternative: I ask for chicken fat from the poultry stalls at the market, then render it into chicken oil at home to fry the stone leek. I also add a splash of Puning soybean paste when the wok is hot. The result is both visually appealing and delicious—and it eventually became a signature dish in my household.

　　　　Stone leek is very seasonal. Only the ones harvested in April and May are at their freshest. After that, they become tough and fibrous. But that fits with the wisdom of our ancestors: eat foods when they’re in season. Craving them out of season only makes the experience more special.