My Mom’s One And Only Tomato Beef Chow Mein
Fresh tomatoes. Seared slices of flank steak. Pan-crisped Chinese egg noodles.
Three simple ingredients that together have the most profound of meanings for me.
They make up my favorite tomato beef chow mein dish that my late-mother used to make for family lunches and dinners. Of all the home-style Cantonese dishes she cooked, it’s the one that most reminds me of her, it’s the one that most epitomizes her. It’s a strong dish that can stand on its own, yet it’s unfussy, it’s comforting, and it’s full of sweet soulfulness.
I still can picture my Mom in the kitchen of our family house in San Francisco, draining the pot of noodles, tossing them with soy sauce and toasted sesame oil, then splitting them between two frying pans to crisp. With my fingers, I would pick a few hot, crunchy strands out of the pan. As I happily chomped, she would shoo me away with a glint in her eyes, knowing full well I just couldn’t resist.
When the noodles were ready, my petite Mom would toss the hefty mound in a big wok with the flank steak, stewed tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, celery, onions, green pepper, and coins of ginger. When it was ready, my father, two brothers, and I would eagerly line up at the stove to heap some onto our plates.
The taste is at once sweet, savory, and lively, with crisp vegetables and noodles, and unctuous, jammy tomatoes. We always had seconds. We never, ever tired of eating it.
When my Mom suffered a stroke four years ago, and went through rehabilitation to relearn how to speak and to use her right hand again, my husband used to try to keep her fighting spirit up by telling her, “You have to get better so you can cook me your tomato beef chow mein. You know, I’ve never had it yet.”
A few years later when her health started to decline severely, my husband would continue to say that to her, even if we all knew in our hearts she probably would never make that dish or any other again. Even so, there were times when he said it that I saw that familiar twinkle in her eyes again.
My husband never got to try my Mom’s true version, made lovingly with her own hands. Sadly, she passed away last year.
As what would have been my Mom’s 88th birthday approaches this week, I vowed to make tomato beef chow mein in honor of her. Fortunately, I had the foresight to have her write down the recipe a decade ago. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the prescience to have her jot down more of them.
I cut the celery on the diagonal, just as I had watched her do so many times. I sliced the flank steak against the grain, just as she always had. Maybe it was the fact that I was mimicking her movements, but I felt as if she was there with me, instructing me, and keeping a watchful eye to make sure I did it as it should be done.
As I tossed the noodles, tomatoes and beef in the fiery wok, it all looked so familiar and felt so right. I scooped a tangle of noodles onto a plate for my husband, who had waited years to taste this dish that he had heard so much about.
He put a forkful into his mouth, and chewed as he let out a most contented “Mmmmm.”
“This is GOOD!” he finally said, reaching for another forkful.
I can’t say if my Mom would have thought it tasted exactly like what she used to make. But I’m pretty proud of this rendition. I even threw in a few heirloom tomatoes, something my Mom never would have considered. Still, I think she would have approved.
This was my first time making my Mom’s tomato beef chow mein. I know it won’t be my last. From now on, it’ll once again be a staple in my life. Because, Mom, this one’s by you, and is you. Now. Always. With every blissful bite.
My Mom’s Tomato Beef Chow Mein
(serves 4)
For meat:
½ pound flank steak, sliced thinly, against the grain
1 teaspoon Asian sesame oil
1 teaspoon dark soy sauce
¼ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cornstarch
For noodles:
1 pound fresh Chinese egg noodles
2 tablespoons Asian sesame oil
2 tablespoons dark soy sauce
For sauce:
1 onion, sliced thinly
2 ribs celery, sliced diagonally
½ green bell pepper, sliced
4 large tomatoes, cut in large chunks
1 can (14.5 ounces) stewed tomatoes
1 teaspoon dark soy sauce
1 teaspoon vinegar or lemon juice
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon ground ginger or a few slices of fresh ginger
2 tablespoons cornstarch, mixed with ½ cup cold water until dissolved
To marinate beef: Mix beef slices with 1 teaspoon sesame oil, 1 teaspoon dark soy sauce, 1 teaspoon cornstarch, and ¼ teaspoon baking soda. Marinate in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.
To make noodles: Cook noodles in a pot of boiling water for about 1 minute. Drain noodles, rinse under cold running water, drain again. Put noodles in a bowl, and stir in 2 tablespoons sesame oil, and 2 tablespoons dark soy sauce.
Heat a small amount of oil in two 12-inch non-stick frying pans. Divide noodles evenly between the two pans. Cook on medium meat until noodles are crispy and light-brown in color. Stir frequently to prevent burning. Set noodles aside and keep warm.
Add a little bit of oil to a large wok or non-stick frying pan, and brown the beef over high heat. Transfer beef to a bowl, and set aside.
Add a little more oil to the pan. On medium-high heat, sauté onion, celery, and bell pepper for a few minutes. Then add fresh tomatoes, stewed tomatoes, dark soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, and ginger. Bring to a boil. Slowly stir in cornstarch mixture. Cook until sauce thickens. Add beef, then stir in the noodles. Serve immediately.
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September 11th, 2008 at 9:22 am
This is a great piece of writing. The kind so missing in today’s food journalism.
Thank you for this post! Saved to delicious.
Happy 88th birthday to your mother.
September 11th, 2008 at 10:13 am
Carolyn
All of your entries are wonderful but this one was incredible. I have tears in my eyes and I promise to make this recipe and I am naming it “Carolyn’s mom’s!” I will also note on the recipe card this week’s date to remember the mom of my friend.
September 11th, 2008 at 11:00 am
Food Gal, what a nice legacy from your mom. I think we all have favorite dishes of our parents growing up and it’s such a great way to honor them by keeping those favorites alive in mind and belly.
I’ve forgotten that I used to love this combination of sweet/tart tomatoes with beef, mostly because as an adult I’ve been eating less and less beef dishes. But I am definitely going to try this soon!
September 11th, 2008 at 11:34 am
We should all be so lucky as to have such wonderful memories…Thank you for sharing that Carolyn.
And not to take things down a notch, but I’m intrigued by the addition of baking soda to the beef marinade. Do you happen to know the reasoning behind it?
September 11th, 2008 at 12:02 pm
My Mom would have been 88 this Saturday. I’m sure she would have been a little embarrassed by all the attention. But I’m also sure she would have been pleased that a dish she made could capture so many people’s fancy. Thank you all for the sweet comments. It’s the best birthday present my Mom could have.
As for the baking soda, I’m taking a wild guess here: But I’m thinking it may help tenderize the beef. Also, baking soda neutralizes acidity, so it might help tame the tang of the tomatoes and vinegar, giving them a little more roundness. But if anyone has any other explanation, I’m all ears.
September 11th, 2008 at 12:41 pm
I so wish I had taken the time to learn the recipes my Grandmother used to make. I won’t make that same mistake with my mom. Lovely post and maybe I’ll just try my hand at Carolyn’s Moms Tomato Beef Chow Mein!
September 11th, 2008 at 3:49 pm
I just love this post…. Just brilliant…
And the recipe looks great!
September 11th, 2008 at 4:09 pm
A beautiful, moving tribute and one that’s especially poetic. Thanks for sharing this with all of us.
September 12th, 2008 at 11:17 am
Thanks for sharing your story, it’s very touchy and I feel I almost have tears coming out. What else can compare a dish made by our mom which is fully of warmth, love and memory! I am glad you could repeat the dish and share the old memories with him.
September 12th, 2008 at 5:39 pm
Such a heartfelt story. Thank you for sharing your beautiful writing and treasured family recipe with us.
September 12th, 2008 at 6:18 pm
Carolyn, lovely story and such a delicious dish - everything tastes better with someone you love behind it!
September 14th, 2008 at 10:13 am
This was really tasty, and what’s interesting is that the sauce is just like the Chinese-Peruvian dish lomo saltado — you just have to toss in some French fried potatoes (!!) and serve over rice!
September 14th, 2008 at 11:18 am
Hi Cicely,
I never thought about that, but you’re right _ the sauce IS like that Chinese-Peruvian dish. I’ve only tasted lomo saltado once. It was at Limon restaurant in San Francisco. A friend ordered it, and since I can never resist French fries, I had a bite. Good stuff!
September 15th, 2008 at 11:48 pm
Fawn Keh Gnow Yook Chow Mein–many thanks, Carolyn. So many comments that validate what I’ve felt all along: you’re not just an excellent food writer; you’re a truly talented writer–period. It’s rare indeed to see such a string of responses all describing how one piece engaged them. Your story of what today would be labeled your Mom’s “signature dish” was written in less complex prose than many other stories you’ve penned. That simplicity I think, reflects both the dish itself–straight forward and soooo good just as it underscores the sincere love of a daughter writing about a cherished link to her beloved Mom. Well done, Carolyn. And a belated birthday greeting to your Mom who I’m sure is beaming with pride somewhere overhead. — wayne
September 16th, 2008 at 11:14 pm
I offer my thanks, too, Carolyn, for this post and the body of work that this blog allows you to continue. Your blog is a “don’t miss” for me.
As for the baking soda in the recipe I offer this. I’m third generation Chinese American raised in Oakland. Our family lore says that baking soda is used to tenderize cheaper cuts of beef. I infer from past dinner table conversation that in some restaurants cheap, tough cuts may have be dusted with baking soda for some period then had it rinsed off before cooking. In particularly egregious cases I think that I can taste beef processed in this way. It’s hard to describe, but the slices of beef have a oddly soft quality to them, not to be confused with the tenderness of, say, filet. Sound familiar? Your mom’s recipe may carry the baking soda as an artifact of an earlier era and may not suffer at all from the exclusion of the baking soda.
September 17th, 2008 at 8:35 am
Thank you so much for all the kind words, Geoff. They mean a lot. And I think your explanation of the baking soda is on the mark. It makes a lot of sense. Flank steak is pretty lean, and therefore, not as tender as other cuts, so I’m sure the baking soda does help tenderize it. I know what you mean about the flabby texture of overly tenderized beef. Because this recipe only uses a quarter teaspoon, I don’t think you get that unwanted texture. I think it softens it just enough so that you don’t have to gnaw away on it quite so much.
Many thanks again for your insights. And thank you, too, for reading.
September 22nd, 2008 at 10:57 pm
Hi Carolyn, I hadn’t read your blogs for awhile so I was catching up tonight and saw this one. It’s lovely. There’s not a stronger connection to family than through food. Your mom would be so proud that you made this dish!
The recipe brings back my own memories of eating at the Far East Cafe in SF’s Chinatown with my family. I always wanted to order the tomato beef chow mein on the menu because it reminded me of my favorite food: spaghetti!
September 30th, 2008 at 6:08 pm
Thanks for sharing your mom’s recipe. I too miss my Mom’s cooking! It’s been a decade since having her Brocolli Beef, Black Bean Pepper Chow Fun, and her famous Osso Bucco. How wonderful it is to share food, especially with a wonderful long history behind it with those we love. Thanks for sharing yours. Don’t stop.
September 30th, 2008 at 9:43 pm
I missed this post earlier. What a moving tribute to your mother and, as everyone else has stated, very eloquently written. I’m sure she would have been proud.
November 15th, 2008 at 3:13 pm
thanks for sharing another moving story - these noodles look so delicious and I’m sure your mom would have been very proud of your rendition. Great post and pics! can’t say that enough