Liang Ban Drumsticks

In Chinese cuisine, 涼拌, or liang ban (lee-AHNG bahn), is kind of an interesting concept that, to my knowledge, does not have a decent English translation.  Hence, the odd title.

The basics of liang ban sauce, as I grew up knowing it, involve soy sauce, some type of aromatic oil, a bit of vinegar, raw minced garlic, and raw chopped green onions.  Optional items can include, but are not limited to, sugar, minced ginger, and chili pepper.  Hailing from Southern regions of China, such a dish usually involves preparing the main component separately (usually boiled in water or a very light broth), and then mixing the main component together with all of the aforementioned fresh ingredients, cold or at room temperature.

The name literally comes from this particular style of preparation, not necessarily the ingredients involved or the type of food being consumed; therefore its various incarnations tend to have different translations in English.  For instance, you can prepare a cold dish with chunks of cucumber in this sauce, called 涼拌黃瓜, and it could be considered akin to pickled cucumbers.  Prepare a dish with noodles and various complementary ingredients in this sauce, and you would have yourself something like 涼拌面, or cold noodle salad.  The most frequent translations mention the ideas of pickling and salads (photos from the Internet below, for reference).  So how do you translate chicken drumsticks prepared this way?  Beats me, really.

Drumsticks were on sale at the grocery store recently, so I purchased two packs for the week before deciding how to make them.  Being a weeknight, I wanted to dedicate as little time as possible to cooking activities.  So I prepared it liang ban because this method is relatively quick.  For the uninitiated, the best analogy off the top of my head would be putting together a sandwich for yourself.  Quick, efficient, and tasty is the essence of this dish.

First, I boiled the drumsticks on high heat with two large chunks of ginger in somewhat salty water (about 30 minutes).  While I waited, I minced the garlic and slant-chopped the green onions.  The idea behind chopping the green onions in a "slanted" fashion is to preserve the somewhat grassy, vegetal feel of the plant when sinking your teeth into it.

When the drumsticks were just about ready (the meat was fall-off-the-bone tender), I moved them from the boiling water to the mixing bowl I prepared with garlic and green onions.  I poured soy sauce, vinegar, and sesame oil to taste and mixed everything together.  Five minutes later, the drumsticks were ready to eat.  Come to think of it, a peanut oil might complement the sauce very nicely and give it a somewhat Southeast Asian dimension.  Maybe next time.