My Chinese Mom’s One-Pot Beef Stew Is a Weeknight Lifesaver

When I was growing up, my family sat down to dinner together every single night. Like many Chinese families, we ate family-style: There were always sautéed greens, fried or steamed fish, and a braise or stir-fry accompanied by steamed rice. It was simple, comforting, home-style cooking. One of the dishes my mom made frequently was a fragrant stew of braised brisket with daikon radish and carrots flavored with chu hou paste, a sweet and savory blend of fermented yellow soybeans, sesame seeds, garlic, and ginger. The dish is a Cantonese classic, and its ease makes it a popular weeknight meal for many families living in Hong Kong.

Traditionally, the stew is prepared by sautéeing ginger and star anise until fragrant, chucking in cubed brisket and vegetables, then simmering it all with rock sugar, oyster sauce, soy sauce, chu hou paste, Shaoxing wine, and water until tender. How the stew is made, though, can vary from household to household. Some cooks, including my mom, use a combination of brisket and tendon: As the tendon cooks, it becomes meltingly tender, and its collagen breaks down into gelatin, giving the sauce body. Daikon radish is usually the only vegetable used, but some households may opt for just carrots or, like me, use a blend of both.

As is the case with many recipes that are passed down from generation to generation, I’ve put my own spin on the classic. My version incorporates several Western culinary techniques that you wouldn’t typically see in a recipe for Chinese braises: I sear the meat before braising, incorporate gelatin to add body, and cook the stew low-and-slow in the oven. While not traditional, it makes for a deeply flavorful stew that requires just about 30 minutes of active time before the oven does the rest of the hard work.

To Sear or Not to Sear?

Most Chinese-style braises or stews do not call for searing, a popular step in many Western-style recipes. I have, admittedly, dumped the ingredients—aromatics, beef, vegetables, and all—into a pot on days when I am exhausted and simply do not feel like cooking. While delicious, I prefer the stew when I’ve taken a few extra minutes to sear the meat. There’s nothing wrong with not browning the meat, and there’s a strong argument for skipping that step in some contexts, like when you want more tenderness or have other assertively flavored ingredients that makes the flavor boost of browning the meat less important. But after my time in culinary school and cooking professionally, I find myself doing it when I have the time and energy, and have come to appreciate the effects of searing.

Searing allows the Maillard reaction—a series of chemical reactions that occur when heat transforms proteins and sugars, creating new, more complex flavors and aromas—to take place. Some recipes for beef stews may have you cube the meat before browning it, but getting a good sear on cubes can take a long time, since there's more surface area to brown, and also because that extra surface area provides more opportunity for the meat to exude water and steam more before beginning to brown.

To avoid that problem, I take a page out of former editor Kenji’s book: I portion the brisket into three steaks, then sear each of them before portioning them into two-inch chunks. “Because of their lower surface area, steaks brown in a fraction of the time of cubes,” Kenji notes in his all-American beef stew recipe. “Meanwhile, even though our beef isn’t browned on every surface, there’s still plenty of browned flavors to mix around the stewpot as it cooks.” You also preserve more tenderness, since you’re not browning every single side of each small cube of beef.

All About Chu Hou Paste (Chinese Fermented Yellow Soybean Paste)

In the realm of fermented bean pastes, doubanjiang (fermented chili bean paste), miso (koji-fermented Japanese soybean paste), and doenjang (Korean fermented soybean paste) get all the love. But there’s another bean paste that most home cooks in America likely do not have in their pantry: chu hou paste. The Chinese condiment is made by sautéeing garlic, ginger, and shallots with oil until fragrant, then stirring in a whisked mixture of ground bean sauce (mochijiang, which is made from fermented soybeans), fermented beancurd, sesame paste, sugar, soy sauce, hoisin sauce, and five spice. A little master stock goes in, and the mixture is cooked until it bubbles and darkens in color. Making it isn’t difficult, but here, I’ve opted for a store-bought version for ease. 

It’s sweet and deeply savory, and not quite as salty or funky as Chinese black bean sauce. The ingredient is a pantry staple for many Cantonese families, who use it in braises and stir-fries. You can find it online or at an Asian grocery store; I recommend using Lee Kum Kee, which is my family’s go-to brand.

Add a Pinch of Gelatin

As I mentioned above, my mom always made her stew with both brisket and tendon; the collagen in the meat and especially the tendon would melt into gelatin and give the sauce its velvety texture. Because tendon isn’t easily found in most American supermarkets, I decided to skip it here. To make up for the lack of collagen that tendon would provide, I decided to enhance the sauce with unflavored powdered gelatin, something both Kenji and our editorial director Daniel have done many times to give the sauce in their stews a silkier texture without the need of a very gelatin-rich stock. Unlike flour, gelatin helps thicken the broth without muddying the flavors of the dish.

Cook It Low-and-Slow

For the ultimate set-it-and-forget-it meal, I let the oven do the hard work for me. Though this braise is almost always prepared on the stovetop, I’ve found that cooking the stew with the gentle, even heat of the oven results in more tender meat. To prevent it from overcooking and becoming too hot, I leave the lid cracked, which maintains a steady temperature and allows some of the liquid to evaporate and reduce into a spoon-coating sauce. This isn’t a totally faithful reproduction of how my mom and everyone before her made this, but feels like an accurate and delicious representation of my life today.

Adjust oven rack to middle position and preheat oven to 300°F (150°C).

Place water in a large bowl or measuring cup and sprinkle with gelatin. Let stand until fully hydrated, about 10 minutes.

In a large Dutch oven, heat oil over medium-high heat until shimmering. Season beef all over with salt and pepper and add to Dutch oven. Working in batches, cook steaks, turning occasionally, until beef is well browned on 2 sides, about 10 minutes. Transfer beef to a rimmed baking sheet or large plate and set aside.

Pour off all but 1 tablespoon of oil. Add ginger, star anise, and cassia bark, and sauté until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add daikon radish and carrots, and cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are well-browned, about 4 minutes.

Add chu hou sauce, oyster sauce, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, and sugar, and cook, using a wooden spoon to stir and scrape up browned bits, until sugar has dissolved, 3 to 5 minutes. Add water and gelatin mixture, stirring to combine.

Cut seared steaks into 2-inch chunks. Add beef and any accumulated juices to the Dutch oven. Stir to combine and return to a simmer over medium heat. Transfer to oven, cover with lid partially open, and cook until beef and vegetables are tender and broth has thickened slightly, about 3 hours. Liquid should hold a slow, steady simmer the entire time; adjust oven temperature as needed during cooking.

Remove stew from oven. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve with Chinese greens and rice, if desired.

Special Equipment

Large Dutch oven, tongs, slotted spoon

Notes

Chu hou sauce can be purchased online or at Asian grocery stores. My family prefers the Lee Kum Kee brand.

Make-Ahead and Storage

Once cooled, the braised brisket can be refrigerated in an airtight container. To reheat, bring to a simmer over medium-low heat or microwave until warmed through.

The braised brisket can be frozen with its cooking liquid in an airtight container for up to 1 month.