Like hamburgers? Then you’ll absolutely love rou jia mo
For several years, there has been a theory circulating around the dark corners of the internet that threatens to upend everything we know about the most iconic of all American foods—the hamburger.
This theory tries to make the case that the hamburger—the very cornerstone of American cuisine—was not first served at Louis’ Lunch Wagon in New Haven, Connecticut; nor was it first created by Fletcher Davis at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair.
According to this theory the hamburger didn’t originate in Hamburg, Germany (although the modern American hamburger’s name was most likely inspired by this city) or have its genesis in the meat held under the saddles of Genghis Khan’s warriors. No, this growing theory says that the world’s first hamburger came from China in the form of the Xi’an mainstay, the rou jia mo.
Rou jia mo is a street food that originated in Shaanxi province somewhere around 221 BC and is still widely consumed all over China and beyond. Like its American descendent, rou jia mo is a very simple, but intensely flavorful dish with countless interpretations and variations.
Chinese street vendors from Xi’an, China to Sunset Park, Brooklyn have their own delicious variations on rou jia mo, but the basic idea is that juicy, coarsely chopped, and boldly seasoned meat is sandwiched into wheat-flour bread.
I know that sounds a lot like a hamburger, but the end result is more like a cross between a pulled pork sandwich and a sloppy Joe. It’s very tempting to split semantic hairs and go down a path that says the rou jia mo is a sandwich, not a hamburger, and therefore cannot be the world’s oldest hamburger.
The problem is that hamburgers are sandwiches (see the 12-page, June 1980 decision by Justice William Underwood of the New York Supreme Court that says a sandwich is to be defined as “two or more slices of bread with a filling of meat, fish, eggs, vegetables, etc., between them”); therefore, the rou jia mo could very well be the world’s oldest known sandwich.
However, while all hamburgers are sandwiches, not all sandwiches are hamburgers, so it doesn’t necessarily follow that the rou jia mo passes muster as a hamburger per se, no more than we would call a sloppy Joe, Made-Rite, Tavern sandwich, or any other loose meat sandwich a hamburger. The closest contender to the world’s oldest burger title should probably go to a 4th-century Roman dish of beef mixed with pine kernels, black and green peppercorns, and white wine served on bread called isicia omentata. Sorry, China.
But just because the rou jia mo isn’t really the world’s oldest hamburger doesn’t mean it’s not a legend of taste and culinary history that everyone on the planet should try at least once. I had my first rou jia mo at a four-table Xi’an Chinese shophouse restaurant in Northern Thailand and was immediately hooked.
The bread for rou jia mo is a very simple wheat bread, called baijimo or just “mo.” Mo is traditionally baked in a clay oven to give it a crispy exterior while maintaining a soft and doughy interior. However, today the mo is sometimes cooked in a pressure cooker or a frying pan. Traditionally baijimo is baked in a clay oven or pan-fried until it has a beautiful crispy, thin skin on the outside and soft chewy inside, perfect for soaking up the precious juices from the meat.
The meat can be beef, lamb, or chicken, but the most common filling is pork, referred to as lazhirou. Traditional lazhirou is made by stewing cuts of meat from between a pig’s hind legs and its ribs (called the yingleirou) in a braising liquid with 20 kinds of spices, including ginger, cloves, Chinese cinnamon, loquat, and star anise.
The pork on my inaugural rou jia mo was soft, fragrant, with a rich and hearty punch of spices that was intense, but didn’t overwhelm the pork itself. Some folks like to add a dash of soy sauce or black vinegar from the condiment caddy on the table to help balance the fattiness of the pork (like adding ketchup or mustard to your burger), but I like mine straight up, no extra condiments, just crispy mo and porky lazhirou juice running down my arm.
Rou jia mo aren’t available at any Chinese restaurants in town, so you’ll have to drive to Atlanta, or make them yourself. If you’re an adventurous cook who likes a challenge, get my favorite rou jia mo recipe below:
Rou Jia Mo
Read the entire recipe before you begin. For visual reference on how to roll out mo, refer to the many videos on YouTube under “baijimo recipe.” Enjoy!
Pork
- 2 lbs pork belly 60% lean, 40% fat
- ¼ cup Shaoxing rice cooking wine
- 3 Tbsp dark soy sauce
- 2 Tbsp light soy sauce
- 2 oz Chinese rock sugar – 1 oz for the caramel, 1 oz for the braising liquid
- 2 thin slices ginger (about .5 oz)
- 6” section of leek cut in half (about 1 oz)
- 25 Sichuan peppercorns
- 2 dried tien tsin chili peppers - cut and deseeded (may substitute dried Thai chilis)
- 3 pieces star anise
- 1 stick cassia cinnamon
- 3 dried bay leaves
- 1 pod black cardamom slightly crushed
- 10 whole cloves
- ¼ tsp caraway seeds
- ¼ tsp cumin seeds
- 2 pieces liquorice root - cut into chunks (optional)
- ½ pod nutmeg
- 2 pieces shanzha/Chinese hawberry (optional – or may substitute 2 3” strips of tangerine peel
- 1 piece dried galangal root
- 1 small piece baizhi (optional)
- ½ tsp kosher salt – added at end of braising time
Bread (baijimo)
- 500 grams sal purpose flour
- 5 grams yeast
- 5 grams baking powder
- 25 grams vegetable oil + a few tablespoons more for making the bread
- 220 grams water
- ¼ tsp salt
- ¼ tsp baking soda – used in step four of the bread making
Garnishes (optional – to taste)
- Cucumber slices
- Sliced mild green chilis
- Cilantro
- Chinese chili oil - Combine 4 Tbsp crushed chili flakes, 2 tsp five spice powder, 3 Tbsp sesame seeds, 1 star anise, 1 tsp Sichuan peppercorns, and 2 bay leaves in a heatproof ceramic bowl that can hold at least 2 cups liquid. Place the bowl on a heat resistant surface.
Heat oil in over medium-high heat; add 1 piece thinly sliced ginger. When the ginger starts to wither and turns golden brown, immediately turn off the heat. The oil should be between 370 & 400 degrees Using a ladle, carefully pour oil into the bowl of mixed spices. The oil will bubble for a few seconds and cook the spices. While the oil is bubbling, use a metal spoon to stir gently to mix the spices, so they’ll cook thoroughly. When the oil cools down a bit, remove and discard the star anise and bay leaf. The oil is now ready to use. Let it rest for a day to allow the spices to infuse into the oil.
Making the Pork Filling
- Cover the pork in water and soak overnight to reduce any gaminess (optional, but recommended)
- Make the caramel or tangse. Crush 1 oz rock sugar with a mortar and pestle (or crush with a hammer in a towel) to make it easier to dissolve. Add a tablespoon of oil to a pan large enough to hold your pork covered with water. Add the crushed 1 oz of sugar to the pot over medium heat and melt the sugar into the oil. You want the sugar to melt into the oil and turn a dark brown color. This will take about five minutes but be careful – the sugar will burn quickly and easily.
- Carefully add a pint or two of warm water to the caramel and bring this up to a boil. (you’re going to add enough water to cover the pork in the next step, so just a couple of pints is fine for now.)
- Add all the seasonings, the pork belly, and enough water to cover the pork. Cover and let cook on low heat for three hours while you make the mo.
- Three hours later, add the salt, then let the pork simmer uncovered for another 20 minutes. Note that the braising liquid will still be very thin. We’ll reduce the liquid into a sauce later.
- Turn the heat to low and hold the pork until you’re ready to assemble your rou jia mo.
Making the bread (mo)
- Combine the flour, water, oil, yeast, and baking powder - whisking to remove any lumps.
- Knead, or mix in a stand mixer with the hook attachment on one for three minutes. Roll the dough into a ball shape, cover with a warm, damp rag and let it rise for forty minutes or until approximately double in volume in a warm and humid room.
- Place a cast iron skillet in your oven and heat it to 500 degrees. The skillet needs to get to 500 degrees so leave it in there while you make your mo.
- While the skillet is heating, roll the dough into a thick log (the size of your wrist or so), sprinkle and rub to cover with the baking soda, fold it over and roll back into a log shape. (Mo is supposed to have a neutral taste, so the baking soda minimizes the sourness of the yeast)
- Split the dough log into ten balls, about 2.5 oz each. Form each ball into a thick snake shape and then roll it lengthwise into a long flattened snake. Dip your finger in oil and smear down the length of the dough (repeat if necessary), fold it like a hot-dog bun, then roll it up lengthwise into a small barrel shape. Smash it down from the top (looking at the concentric spirals) with your palm, then roll it into a circle from the center-out. Remember, you’re adding oil to layer the dough and create a pocket in the baked mo, like a pita.
- Take the 500° cast iron skillet out of the oven and place it on the stove on high for one minute, then lower it to medium. (This helps maintain the temperature – if you happen to have a surface thermometer, your skillet needs to be at approximately 500° F.)
- Lightly spray the mo with water and place it in the pan (this helps make a nice crust). Cook on one side for 30 seconds, then flip and cook on the other side for 20 seconds.
- Place the skillet with the mo inside in the oven and bake for two minutes – still at 500°. After 2 minutes, remove the skillet from the oven, and the mo from the skillet. Repeat until all are cooked.
Note: Rou jia mo are best served with warm, fresh mo. Ideally, they can be cooked to order, or you have a large cast iron skillet to do several at a time.
Serving rou jia mo
Cut the Mo open to create a pocket with the tip of your knife. Try not to cut the sides of the mo.
Option 1: Chop some of the mild chili, cucumber, and cilantro together with the pork so there are no big chunks of veg left in the filling. Mix in a spoonful or two of braising liquid to help create an almost paste-like consistency. Add a little chili oil, then spoon the mix into the mo bread and hit it with another spoonful of sauce.
Option 2: Spoon the pork filling into to mo, top with garnishes to taste, spoon braising liquid over the top until satisfied.
Option 3: Straight up – no garnishes. Just stuff a mo with a bunch of pork filling, spoon braising liquid over it until it’s dripping, then eat over the sink or a garbage can with questionably inebriated friends.
Mike McJunkin is a native Chattanoogan who has traveled abroad extensively, trained chefs, and owned and operated restaurants. Join him on Facebook at facebook.com/SushiAndBiscuits