Central Plains Food Notes: Breakfast Volume I

Chef Wu asked me to put together a little guide to what people eat on the streets of Kaifeng. He said it'd come in handy, and who knows, the Culinary Office might even end up making some of these dishes one day. As for that, I'm your person. I'm a local.

1. Hulatang (Spicy Pepper Soup) Hulatang is the undisputed king of breakfast stalls in the Central Plains. A proper bowl starts with beef or mutton broth, fragrant with rich stock, then comes with pieces of meat, wheat gluten, tofu skin, and other add-ins. Even so, it varies from place to place. Some say the hulatang they grew up with was yellow and thick, with the spice taking center stage. Others swear by a darker, thinner version that leans more numbing than hot. Either way, it's delicious. The kind you end up craving again.

2. Tofu Pudding If hulatang is the king of breakfast, then tofu pudding is his queen. At morning stalls across the Central Plains, the two show up together like black and white stones on a go board, different by nature yet rarely apart. If a stall sells hulatang, tofu pudding is usually right there with it. Hulatang is dark and bold, the kind that looks almost forbidding but makes your mouth water anyway. Tofu pudding is the opposite: pale, gentle, with just a hint of soybean aroma, silky on the tongue and so tender it falls apart. Black soup or white pudding, they're both worth drinking. If your wallet and your stomach can handle it, some adults simply order both.

3. Hulatang and Tofu Pudding, Mixed Who says opposites cannot mix? Who says black and white must stay apart? The sun and moon can share the same sky, so why not hulatang and tofu pudding? Street stalls in the Central Plains know a thing or two. If the soup is too fiery, add a spoonful of pale, fragrant tofu pudding. If the tofu pudding tastes too mild, stir in a spoonful of hulatang, spicy, savory, and numbing. Heaven and earth hold up the same world. A king and his queen belong together. So do these two, once you mix them. If you are not the kind of well-off, big-appetite adult who can finish two full bowls, just ask the vendor for a half-and-half. In one bowl, black and white mingle, and all kinds of flavor open up. In the end, most of us are simply chasing a life that hits the right balance, salty and mild, wanting both and getting both.

4. Firm, Savory Tofu Pudding It is only one word away from tofu pudding, but the difference feels like youth versus a weathered middle age. Youth is pale and pure, smooth as fresh-made tofu. The firm kind is pitted and uneven, and it is all savory now, no sweetness at all. Nothing stays young forever, not even tofu. This bowl has grown up, topped with dried shrimp, soybeans, and pickled greens. The tofu is rougher on the tongue. Its pores and creases seem to hold a lifetime of worries and regrets. Compared with ordinary tofu pudding, the texture and flavor are far more complex.

5. Pan-Fried Buns Pan-fried buns are hulatang's most loyal bodyguard. There's a story that they were once awarded the title "Second-Rank Buns" in Kaifeng, though nobody knows whether it came from the court or just started as palace gossip. Buns aren't rare. What makes these special is the seared bottom, that thin, browned crust. That little patch of crisp is what gives a soft, pillowy bun its bite and that satisfying crunch. It's also why pan-fried buns are best eaten right at the stall. Take them home and the crust turns soft, and most of the fun is gone.

6. Vegetable Flatbread Some people claim Central Plains breakfasts are all deep-fried. Let's set the record straight. Vegetable flatbread is a staple that puts vegetables front and center, with no frying involved. To explain it, you first need to know luomo, a thin flatbread cooked on a hot griddle. For vegetable flatbread, you roll out two sheets before they're cooked. Lay one down like a bedsheet and pile on seasonal greens. In spring, you'll see shepherd's purse, spinach, and chives. In summer, amaranth and schizonepeta join the mix. Come autumn and winter, when the harvest gets tallied up, almost anything can go in. Then you cover it with the second soft sheet like a quilt and set it on the hot griddle to wait, while the flavors of all four seasons fall asleep together under one big blanket.

7. Vegetable Turnovers They may look like they're only one word away from vegetable flatbread, but they're not "a corner cut off" at all. They're a completely different breakfast. The filling is lighter on greens and heavier on egg, chives, and glass noodles. It's wrapped like an oversized dumpling, then deep-fried until it turns a glossy golden brown. Out it comes like a little moon-boat, crisp enough to crunch. If you live for that bite, you're in luck.