Fewd Blawg

Chinese food - unhealthy?

2007-03-22T01:39:00.000-07:00

Jenn on reappropriate blogs about a recent piece of desperate omgihavetomeetadeadline bit of "science" writing. And it's about Chinese food.

Carrot bonanza

2007-02-12T16:30:00.001-08:00

In our organic veggie box this week we got another bunch of carrots. I'm not used to so many carrots. Carrots shall be my friend!

I spent some time looking for new ways for me to use carrots beyond just including them in a Mirepoix and I wanted them to be le spicey. Before I knew it, I had too many carrot recipes to pass up. I reprint them here for posterity and so I don't lose them. Y'know, apparently internet searchers love to find lists of things? It gives them great joy.

On to the untried and potentially false carrot recipes:

Curried Carrot Soup (duh!)
Seared jumbo scallops, spicy carrot fritters, yoghurt sauce
Spicy Carrot Sauce (chipotle-flavored)
Spicy Carrot Sambal
Som Tam (Spicy Thai Carrot Salad)
Som Tam #2 (for good measure)
Hmong-style Spicy Carrot Salad
Spicy Carrot Purée with Harissa
Spicy Carrot Purée with Harissa #2 (adapted)
Spicy Carrot Pickle (Indian)
Spicy Carrot Chutney (Indian)
Spicy Carrot Dip ("American")
Broccoli and Tofu with Spicy Carrot Orange Sauce (Chinese-esque)
Roasted Lamb Rump With Spicy Carrot Purée, Couscous & Pine Nut Ciabatta Sauce
Sweet & Spicy Carrot Pudding
Spicy Carrot Tahini (but where?!)

That last one, the Spicy Carrot Tahini, eluded me in recipe form, but intrigued me on the menus I saw it on. One day, it shall be mine!

I shall try and bloggerate whichever recipe I choose for the utilization of carrottage. Gooooo beta carotene!

[x-posted]

Li-i-i-i-isa... Don't E-e-e-e-at Me! (or What Kind of Vegan Are You Anyway?)

2007-02-10T21:53:00.000-08:00

Many readers of this blog are acquainted with my previous attempt to reduce my culinary dependence on animals, "social meat eating," in which I would eat meat if I was with company in a situation where communal dishes were being shared, family-style. This failed because I would just find many occasions to go to family-style restaurants. While my sociable eating benefitted, the animals (and environment) did not. Understandably, many friends were amused by the social-meat-eating paradigm, so open was it to accomodating my carnivorous recalcitrance. I eventually gave up on it and went back to meat-eating.

I never tried vegetarianism. I had noted with some dismay that when some I knew switched from meat-eating to vegetarian diets, their eating relied very heavily on cheese, milk and eggs.

For a while, I tried no-meat-at-home, but this shared the same flaw as "social meat eating," and I just ended up eating out a lot.

For these reasons, I decided to be a realistic vegan.

Vegan because it was difficult to logically draw the line between meat and dairy/eggs, as well as between food and other products (leather, cosmetics, etc.). Realistic because I realized that lapses and occasional exceptions were not The End OMG Total Failure. I also have to admit that I like the hard-core-ness of being vegan. In a way it's easier to explain being vegan than being vegetarian.

I liken this stance to those who realize both that lying is wrong, yet who cannot honestly (ho-ho) say that they have never told a lie, and realize that some lies are worse than others.

Another way I think of it is my animal-exploitation-minimization program, akin to the risk-management strategy when it comes to STD-transmission prevention. Frankly, coming up with a veganism that I can stick to is more important to me than being The Perfect Vegan for a few months or years, and then giving up.

How has my veganism been fast-and-loose?

1) Once a month I eat meat (I may be phasing this out)
2) If after the fact I find out that something I'm eating has animal products in it, I don't freak out or even stop eating
3) I used to eat ethical eggs from a CSA (but I have since let my share lapse)
4) Sometimes I eat snacks with animal products if someone else paid for them
5) I'll eat the free cheese at Rainbow Grocery
6) I've sneaked tastes of food with animal products in it that someone has made in their home, because I can't stand not knowing how their cooking tastes. I'm a curious (and judgmental) old bugger.

But really, my best answer to "what kind of vegan are you?" is "what kind of vegan are you?"

Fluffy Mackerel

2007-02-09T10:55:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you stumble across something on the web that makes life just a little bit more worth living. Other times, you stumble on to something on the web that makes you want to die just a little bit more.

In rare, special moments you stumble across the unholy marriage of both these things and it all just works.

Behold this internet gold--I give you Fluffy Mackerel Pudding!

This gem comes to us from the Weight Watcher's recipe cards of yester year. Check them out. Oh, and you'll definitely want to recreate them, and photograph them, and upload them to flickr. Yes, you do!

by Mirandala

[hat-tip Rich, x-posted]

Cooking with fetuses!

2007-02-08T22:43:00.001-08:00

Sort of.

In a recurring culinary interest, obsession, and/or perversion, I have wondered whether cooking an animal (for those non-veg folks out there) with it's fetus would make for a tasty culinary advancement.

Imagine if you will roasted pig with piglets basting inside. Yummy!

Anyway, it seems that a creative cook is doing something just like that: unlaid eggs.

Not everybody loves them, but ever since Mr. Barber dropped the term “embryonic eggs” from the menu in favor of “immature,” fewer customers have balked.

I love me some embryos!

[x-posted]

The "Curry Coast"

2007-02-03T19:38:00.001-08:00

Best cooking day ever! In a day of personal indulgence I spent all Friday, 10am to 6pm cooking. Delightfully delicious!

Diced chiles and onions for the Avial

I have to give mad food props to the Demeber issue of Food and Wine, from whence all my recipes were stolen. The article is about this small inn/farm in Southwester Indian and in predictable modern foodie writing talks just enough about the land and people to set the scene for the food. Check it out,

For me the odd name evokes a dreamy paradigm of south India—an arch of vermilion bougainvillea blossoms, the sheen of lake waters interrupted by a dugout’s narrow wake and, above all, the blissful silence, broken only by birdsong, the chatter of women washing clothes along the shore and the chants from a Hindu temple across the canal.

What could be better? The food, silly! For the feasty goodness I made "Red Fish (tofu) Curry," "Curry with Potatoes and Squash," "Anu's Avial" and "Indian-spiced String Beans." Huzzah!

Pineaplle and spices

The dishes were quite good, but very different from what you're probably familiar with around Indian food. Lots of coconut, curry leaves and fresh green chiles. All the dishes were pretty fast and didn't take too much prep work--so it was cool to be able to make so many for one dinner.

I think the best one turned out to be the red tofu curry, which was sour and spicy from the tamarind in it. I replaced the called-for fish with tofu because to make it vegetarian and it turned out quite well.

Curry leaves, pepper and mustard seeds frying

Another winner was the Anu's Avial which was a vegetable and coconut mash but with no mashing, if that makes sense. It was delicious and coconutty.

Yogurt mixed into the Avial to make it tangy delicious

All in all it was a yummy success!

2007-02-03T19:33:00.000-08:00

So I recently caved and, along with like, every single food blog (and flickr user!), got a copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The World (which really could be called Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The Blogosphere). I even bought it at my local lefty bookstore (Modern Times).

Never content to use a recipe right out of a book (because I'm better than you), I decided to tweak their basic vanilla cupcake recipe, to create a pretty cupcake that looked (a little) like the one on the cover, but with something extra.

The difference was cardamom.

Cardamom is a superb dessert spice, and its creamy, sweet high note gives my baking a much needed boost of elegance. Cardamom alone, however, can be a little cloying and reedy (like a single piccolo player wheezing the melody line all by herself).

I rooted around the kitchen for something to balance it. Cloves might have been good, but my cloves had been hanging out near the coriander seeds their whole lives, and had gotten that "don't even think about using me in anything other than a curry" smell.

I ended up steeping the cardamom pods with tangerine skins in the soymilk called for in the recipe and then proceeded according to the book (omitting the vanilla).

And thus, Tangerine-Cardamom Cupcakes with Rose Icing and Pistachios were born.

The cupcakes turned out great. They're moist, they're sweet, and they're spicy. The rose in the icing is noticeable but not overpowering. My only complaint is that the pistachios are a bit underwhelming, though undeniably pretty. Perhaps I should have made them into a praline first.

Eat. At. Home.

2007-01-22T21:08:00.000-08:00

I've resolved to make all my meals at home this week, starting today. More accurately, I won't be eating any take-out or restaurant meals this week. I have to admit, it was rough to start out with. I ended up having a clif bar for lunch and then a protein shake later in the day between classes.

For dinner, however, I made a nourishing vegan meal of quinoa and curry. In the curry there are beans, kale, carrots, and assorted mushrooms. The assorted mushrooms actually come frozen from some organic frozen veggie brand. I forget which. Anyway, they weren't great. Kale and carrots were fresh, and hence tasty. Beans were from a can and acceptable, though some of their skins were a bit tough.

I'm now a huge quinoa fan, by the way. I love the little cooked pearls, and the crunchy popping texture.

Bitter, sweet, and sour

2007-01-19T12:08:00.000-08:00

Because of their sharp acidity and deep flavor, blood oranges lend themselves to a variety of preparations. In this salad, sweet-tart supremes of blood orange lie in a bed of bitter, spicy watercress. Smoothed by extra virgin olive oil, salt, and a dash of lemon juice, each bite gives a full spectrum of flavor.

Eating this salad reminded me that local winter produce consists of more than just root vegetables and sturdy greens. Savoring the bright tastes, I thought of Camus' statement about finding an invincible summer in the midst of winter. Sadly, the day after I enjoyed the jewel-like slices of blood orange came the news that frost killed seventy-five percent of California's citrus crop this year.

Bread baking

2006-12-30T20:27:00.000-08:00

I'm currently at my parents' house in Northbrook, with very little to do except finish reading M.F.K. Fisher's The Gastronomical Me and progress in my Nintendo DS games. This afternoon, my sister Stephanie expressed a desire to "bake something." We decided to make bread, and I decided to try Nigel Slater's recipe as reported by the Amateur Gourmet here. Eight cups of flour seemed excessive, so we cut the recipe in half. Here we are posing ridiculously with the finished product. We're trying to make a heart, with the loaf at the bottom.

I am pretty happy with the results. The finished loaf is very salty and flavorful. The crust is not as thick and crisp as the one I achieved with the recent New York Times no-knead method, but it still cracked pleasantly under my teeth. The detail below shows the crumb, which is denser than ideal. Since the house is pretty cold, I think I should have let the second rise go longer than an hour. My family says the bread is delicious, though, so I hope there's still some left for me to share with Andy on the plane tomorrow back to San Jose.

Broiled Squab with Cauliflower Pasta

2006-11-28T22:46:00.000-08:00

When I ordered our Thanksgiving wild turkey from D'Artagnan, I also bought a couple of squabs to take advantage of the flat shipping rate. Last night, I butterflied the squabs, generously brushed them with butter, and slid them under the broiler. When the birds were a beautiful golden brown on the outside and medium rare on the inside, I dusted them with salt, parsley, and sweet paprika. The meat tasted rich and gamey, like duck with a slight hint of liver. Behold:

With the squab, we ate pasta with cauliflower, olive oil, anchovies, and lots of garlic. Yum.

Pizzeria Delfina

2006-11-26T15:02:00.000-08:00

After looking at furniture at San Francisco yesterday, Andy and I made a spur of the moment visit to Pizzeria Delfina. Pictured above are the Monterey Bay Sardines "In Saor." These were delicious. The olive-oil and vinegar-slicked onions studded with dried currants, parsley, and pine nuts were a terrific complement to the rich oily fish. Heaping everything onto the crostini added a satisfying crunch. The Salsiccia pizza we ordered was equally successful. It contained housemade fennel sausage, tomato, bell peppers, onions and mozzarella and came with a tiny plate of grated pecorino, dried oregano, and red pepper flakes. I especially enjoyed the bright fennel and herb flavor of the sausage. Pizzeria Delfina is rapidly becoming one of my favorite restaurants.

Thank You, India(n Americans)

2006-11-24T01:42:00.000-08:00

Sometimes Thanksgiving is a disaster. People don't get along, the TV does little to take the edge off of the social awkwardness, and the food is obligatorily stodgy and heavy, quickly reaching room temperature and drying out faster than you can say "factory farmed."

This was not one of those Thanksgivings.

The old standards were there, of course, but they were given an appropriately Bay Area foodie twist.

The turkey was a heritage breed (ordered from D'Artagnan). Obscenely pricey, but hey, I don't eat meat that often any more, and also the dark meat was LIKE BUTTAH. The white meat tasted like Really Good Pork. It was prepared simply - a rub the day before with salt, pepper and thyme, then roasted to an internal temperature of 160 degrees Fahrenheit. Andy and I greedily ate the oysters at the counter. They were gamey, dense, fine-grained and moist - as though made into pate.

Mashed potato stuffing, a cunning portmanteau of a dish, accompanied the turkey. Cheese, mashed potato, breadcrumbs, stock, thyme and butter.

The gravy was given substance by thinly sliced king trumpet and shiitake mushrooms, and thickened with corn starch rather than wheat flour (because one of the guests was off gluten. I know, I know. Don't go there.)

Squash soup was tweaked with some garlic, parsley, thyme and bay (this doesn't sound like much tweaking, but the original had only squash, leeks and ginger - a bit too sweet for some palates). It was finished with creme fraiche, natch.

Green beans got parboiled then sauteed with olive oil, chopped shallots and thinly sliced Buddha's hand. Meyer lemon juice finished off the quick pan glaze.

We started with a salad, which was actually pretty standard - lettuce, walnuts, blue and goats cheese, avocado and a delightful vinaigrette a la minute by Andy. I got some flak for not tearing up the lettuce leaves into smaller pieces.

Poached pears took a turn for the adult, as Ron upped the amount of wine in the recipe, and put in fresh ground cloves.

Ursula's apple galette was perfectly cooked, and yes, the crust was flaky AND tender.

Burger Queen

2006-11-20T02:30:00.000-08:00

Inspired by Michael Procopio's* post over on Bay Area Bites about his own foodie-challenged childhood and his current endeavors at creating fries and a shake, I'm going to recount my years as a frequent Burger King diner (gasp!).

*I used my cyberstalker skills to track down his other blog, but sadly, it has nothing on it right now. I did find a soulfully depressed European Existentialist picture of him on his blogger profile, though.

YUM! Has someone thought about compiling a Hot Foodies calendar? If not, then YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST, FOLKS! Speaking of which, I am eternally grateful to Urse for pointing me to this picture and interview with Fred Schilling of Dagoba. Here he is, surrounded by Mason jars full of beans (Cacao beans and Mason Jars - can you get any foodier?):

I'd like to wrap my foil around his chocolate bar.

Also on this list would be Gabriel Roth, who writes Edible Complex for the SF Bay Guardian. I can't find a good photo of him on the internets, in part because there is a musician named Gabrielle Roth who is sucking up all the google hits. Good for her, though. You'll have to take my word for it.

Actually, of all the people in this post, Gabriel Roth is the only one I've seen in real life, and so his hotness-reliability-index is the highest of the lot. For me, anyway. What is hotness-reliability, you ask? It's the quality of being and staying hot from all angles and over periods of time, not just after a team of make-up artists and photographers have worked you (or after taking 45 different pictures of yourself in the bathroom mirror and finding the one where your stomach looks naturally flat, and not like you're sucking it in, which you totally are). If you've seen tabloid pictures of the New Britney Spears, you know what I mean.

Ilan Hall, one of the contestants on Top Chef, should be in the Calendar also. His look has sort of a hipster-meets... umm... well, okay, fine, he just looks like a hipster. No photo of him on here, just in case we get sued by Bravo. I think he's going to win. He's basically a revamped Harold. Oh hell, here's his photo, clearly cribbed from the Top Chef site. FAIR USE, I say, FAIR USE:

Okay, that was supposed to be an aside, but it's turned into a whole post. Maybe I'll talk about my childhood in Burger King another time. Actually, you know what, I can sum it up in a few sentences: I was a kid with thousands of years of Imperial Chinese cuisine as my ethnic heritage, growing up in Southeast Asia, where three or four of the world's best cuisines came together in a syncretic miracle of deliciousness, and all I could think to eat almost every other weekday for lunch was a Double Bacon Cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke, in the sticky-floored, poorly-ventilated basement level Burger King that was closest to the D&D bookstore. Also I was fat.

Ooh, ooh, here's the link: sometimes when I read other food blogs or watch TV and see talented, good-looking foodies and food-writers, I am once again the fat kid eating bad burgers and dreaming about being (or screwing) a paladin.

Oh, another aside: I recently heard somewhere, or maybe I read (damn it! I can't remember where now) someone describe another person as "the kind of guy who derives additional pleasure from eating meat because he can make fun of vegetarians." Sadly, Gabriel Roth seems to fall into this category (I'm not saying the column ain't funny though). Then again, so does Anthony Bourdain.

Santa Monica Farmers' Market

2006-10-07T20:13:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to show you what I found at the famous Santa Monica farmers' market. It's as amazing as the Good Food podcast makes it sound. The coolest thing I found was fresh passionfruit. Here's a photo of the tasty seedy gooeyness. The vendor gave me a sample and told me that the husks can be used to make tea. I haven't done that yet, but it's worth a try. I'm going to try to go to the market every other week since Pasadena already has a pretty nice one on Thursdays.

Also, I recently got a bread machine. I made a Rosemary French Bread and a Challah bread. Both turned out well. Next I'm going to try a pumpkin pull-apart loaf. Here's a picture of the challah:

A Drink for Ms. Toguri

2006-10-01T23:34:00.000-07:00

Iva Toguri died on Tuesday. Today, serendipitously, I created a new cocktail, and I have decided to name it in her honor (or more precisely, in memory of her wartime nickname).

Tokyo Rosé*

*Apparently there already is a Tokyo Rose cocktail, but please note the accent on mine that distinguishes it from your garden variety English word.

Toguri was a Japanese American who got stuck in Japan during WWII. Upon her return to the U.S., she was convicted of being a traitor for taking part in Japanese radio propaganda. She was pardoned in 1977 by President Ford. Toguri maintained that she deliberately used her position to create ineffective propaganda, using an outrageously heavyhanded tone that was easily dismissed by any Americans listening.

In contrast, this cocktail needs a light hand with the ingredients. It's not very alcoholic, so you can mix yourself up a pitcher and drink it while listening to the radio.

1/2 tsp rosewater
1 1/2 tbsp raspberry syrup
1 c. sparkling water
1 shot sake
A grape

1) Mix the first four ingredients.
2) Pour into martini glass
3) Drop in the grape.
4) Watch the fun grape dance!
5) Think about WWII.
6) Drink!

Jonathan Gold

2006-09-08T20:41:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm in LA, I've been going to the places that have been recommended by Jonathan Gold of Good Food fame. I've tried two so far: Bulgarini gelato and Macau Street. Both trips turned out delicious so I think I'll follow his food picks more often.

The gelato. Gold says it's better than any gelato he's tasted in Italy or France. I can't confirm or deny that conclusion because I'm neither so worldly nor so materially obssessed with competition. However, I can say that it was the best I've tasted - even better than Naia (can't you hear the Buddhas crying "Hypocrite!"?). I had a cup with pistachio and lemon cream. So nutty, so lemony, so creamy, so refreshing was the tasty treat that I might make it a weekly thing since it's a 2 minute walk away from the apartment.

The uniqueness of the place lay not only in the freshness and homemade quality of the gelato, but also in its set up. The whole place was a single cart in the courtyard of the Pacific Asia Museum of Pasadena. Thankfully, I didn't have to pay for a museum ticket because you know how much I hate Asians, let alone their history and culture.

Macau Street. This is one of many Chinese restaurants in Monterey Park - the chinkiest town west of chinkland. I had all the recommended dishes from Jonathan Gold's article: preserved duck clay pot rice, bbq pork neck with fermented bean dip, fried crab with fried garlic bits, roast squab, and cookies laced with bits of lard. I did not have the foresight to bring a camera, so I can't show you how sexy meat on a plate can be (suck it you vegans! suck my meat on a plate!). The cookies were the most unique thing I had. It had a texture like toffee cookies and had a strange balance of sweet and salty. The lard provided the icing on the cookie. The closest thing I could compare it to would be one of those chinese wedding cookies, if that helps.

Next up, I might post some pictures if I have my camera handy or I might blog about the farmers' markets I've been going to. I still haven't been to the markets on the west side. I'll update when I do.

A-U-T-O-Matic

2006-09-06T23:48:00.001-07:00

Today I had a fewdblogworthy eating experience. It was not especially delicious or savory, but it was certainly unique, and disturbingly satisfying. That's right; I bought food out of an automat. You know, an automat. A vending machine / wall of mini-ovens that dispense hot, prepared food at the mere insertion of a coin.

This automat, Bamn! (not to be confused with BAMN, the Michigan-based civil rights organization), located on St. Mark's in the East Village, NYC, is allegedly (according to that most trustworthy of all sources, the Wiki) the first automat to exist in the U.S. for 15 years. I had seen one of these before, in the Netherlands when I was in high school, but I don't think there was a single item my vegetarian self could have eaten, so tonight was my first automatic (as it were) eating experience. I'm guessing that there isn't not a relationship between decriminalized pot in Amsterdam and the life of the automat, so it makes sense that the automat would be located within easy walking distance of the various types of substance dispensaries of the East Village. I mean, you'd have to be on something to eat food out of a wall of hot pink ovens, right? Right? I'm not going to lie - the food I ate at Bamn! (that name has got to go) was not half bad. I ate...a macaroni and cheese croquette. That's right, deep fried macaroni and cheese. So awful. So amazing. Such a good trade for two dollars in loose change. Other items included the Mozarella sticks (standard), chicken burger (standard), and peanut butter and jelly empanada (hmm....). I went at night so it was mostly munchies, but based on the photo, it looks like they shuffle in more breakfast appropriate items in the morning. The deep fried mac-n-cheese made the perfect post-beer snack, though I did spend the train ride home pondering Important Questions About Man's Place in the Modern World. Also, having to pee.

Thanks to Kathryn for the photos shamelessly lifted from her flickr account (but she's my friend, so its ok)

Feeling the Crunch

2006-09-03T14:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't shaved for more than a week. My hair is growing way out as I haven't had it cut for months. I've recently gone vegan (working on a post about that soon, I promise). I live in a house with 5-6 other people right now. I've been wearing sandals every day to school. I bought a bunch of potted herbs from the farmers' market.

And yesterday I made granola.

It's a very hippie time for me.

Luckily, it's also a very foodie time (as always), which is why I made this granola with hazelnuts and cacao nibs, as well as dried organic cranberries (sweetened with apple juice). The recipe loosely follows Alton Brown's, but I cut back on the sugar and nuts so that I would actually end up with granola instead of Candied Nuts With Oat Garnish (which is sorta what his recipe ends up being).

Foodie Hippie Granola

Preheat your oven to 250F/120C

Mix together:
9 cups of oats (rolled, not quick cooking)
1 cup hazelnuts, skin on, broken into pieces (I did this with some perfunctory thumping with a mortar and pestle. I tried the rolling pin + kitchen cloth thing before and it didn't really work out)
1 1/2 cups slivered almonds
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup maple syrup
3/4 cup vegetable oil
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp vanilla extract (optional)

Spread this out on baking sheets and put them in the oven. Stir this up every 15 minutes. Total baking time is about an hour and a half (I like my granola well-cooked).

Take out of the oven and let cool completely, then mix in:
1 1/2 cups dried cranberries
1 1/2 cups cacao nibs

Store in an airtight container (or, if you eat it every day like me, store half of it in a plastic bag on the counter, since it doesn't hang around long enough to go stale)

Hot, sweet, and sticky...

2006-08-30T13:50:00.000-07:00

They're cinnamon rolls!

I was stressing Monday when I was going through my human subjects application. I've always found that baking really helps me destress. Plus, I've been wanting to make these suckers for a while now.

I found this recipe on allrecipes.com
I made the full recipe of dough, and rolled them all up into rolls and made the 'slices' with dental floss. I ended up letting one batch rise as usual, and the other half I froze for cinnamon rolls at a later date.

These were best out of the oven, steaming and nutty. What I liked best about these is that the dough was not overly saturated with stickiness. Of course the frosting was sweet and sticky, but the actual rolls still had that nice pastry/breadiness. And the chopped walnuts REALLY stood out in a delicious way against the browned dough. I would definitely do this again.

Cinnamon Rolls

for dough
* 1 cup milk
* 1 cup water
* 1/4 cup butter
* 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
* 6 cups all-purpose flour
* 1 1/2 tablespoons active dry yeast
* 1/2 cup white sugar
* 2 eggs

for filling:
* 1/3 cup butter, softened
* 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
* 3/4 cup white sugar
* 3/4 cup raisins (optional)
* 3/4 cup chopped walnuts (optional)

for icing:
* 2 cups confectioners' sugar
* 3 tablespoons butter, melted
* 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
* 3 tablespoons milk

DIRECTIONS:

1. heat 1 cup milk, water, and 1/4 cup butter until very warm (butter doesn't need to be completely melted). (I microwaved it all for 40-50 sec). Place milk mixture, salt, flour, yeast, sugar, and eggs in the pan of the bread machine in the order suggested by the manufacturer. Select the Dough cycle. Press Start. (or use your kitchen aid with the dough hook attachment).

2. Once Dough cycle is complete, remove the dough from the bread machine. Punch down, and divide into 2 parts. On a floured surface, roll each part into a large rectangle. (I think I rolled until it was about 1/2" thick, but it certainly doesn't have to be precise). Smear each rectangle with the softened butter. Combine the cinnamon and 3/4 cup sugar. Sprinkle over the rectangles. Generously sprinkle the raisins and/or chopped nuts over the top.

3. Roll the dough up into two logs starting at the long side. Cut each log into 12 slices. (here is where you can use dental floss or thread to make the slices. Slide the thread under the log, wrap around the log, and pull ends past each other). Place the rolls cut side down into two 9x13 inch greased baking pans (or silicone sheet). Cover, and let rise in a warm place until almost doubled (about 30 minutes).

4. Bake in a preheated 375 degrees F (190 degrees C) oven for 18 to 20 minutes, or until golden. Combine the confectioners' sugar, 3 tablespoons melted butter, vanilla, and 3 tablespoons milk. Frosting should be thick. Spread over baked rolls and enjoy.

x-posted to my blog

The Color Red

2006-08-23T12:05:00.000-07:00

The Friday I got back from Australia, Urse, Fuson and I headed down to Santa Cruz to the Mecca of tasty, red-to-the-core, union-labor, organic, $4-a-pint-at-the-market strawberries, Swanton Berry Farm. This has become something of a summer ritual for Ursula and me. I think we've gone down to Swanton for the past 3 years. Sadly, because we went quite late in the season this time, the strawberries were a little sad.

Still, it was wonderful to drive down the California coast. The cool fresh air and sunshine reminding me that I really was back, and that, Mark Twain's possible (bitchy) comment notwithstanding, it really was summer.

Although some strawberries looked like this (still not red to the core, but at least red all over):

Most looked like this:

Perhaps it was the jetlag, perhaps it was my own pickiness (no pun intended), but I ended up only collecting 2 pints of strawberries after about a half hour or so of wandering the rows. Urse and Fuson did much better, collecting about half a flat each:

We stopped in at the farmstand to pay (on the honor system), and to try the strawberry and blackberry jams they had out. They had a cute chalkboard with a paper hand that I don't think was there last year (not sure, though):

I'll leave you with California's gorgeous coastline as seen from the window of Ursula's car:

Ode on a Grecian Bistro

2006-08-07T05:02:00.000-07:00

THOU still unpictured dish of greek delight,
Thou foster-child of foolishness and sloth,
Ming, incompetent, though you had in his sight
thought not to photograph e'en the tablecloth:
What leaf-fringed pork loin haunted thy serving dish
of porcelain, of fine glass, or of both,
In Oliver Lane, that's in the CBD?
What herbs and oils are these? What fragrant broth?
What diced root? What strange exotic fish?
What jus and sauces? What rich fricasee?

The fondant cream was sweet, but is, unseen,
no sweeter; therefore, dear blog reader, complain;
Not to my sensual ear, but, far more swift,
whine to my email, through ether send your pain:
Fair squid, you started with, stewed with young leaves
of fennel, suffused with sweet perfume;
Its bold flavor, never, never can we see
presented on this blog, and so we grieve;
We wanted pictures, instead got poetry,
poor poetry at that. Cruel joke, we presume?

Oh crappy, crappy post! that cannot shed
new light in channels red green blue;
And, crappy blogger, when he ate
his dishes, pork loin, squid stew;
Was happy, love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
for ever steaming, from the kitchen fresh brung
in his memory, but lord above,
not in yours: high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
lacks appetite to moist your parched tongue.

What fine organic pig was sacrificed?
By what green butcher, O mysterious beast,
were'st thou so lovingly carved and stuffed,
and with that silken caulfat so well drest?
What Cretan leeks brought in by air or sea,
or o'er land from local farmers hands,
do dress thy browned form, this afternoon?
But, sticky sauce, thy sweetness needs to be
offset by piquancy, and you could stand
some lemon too. You overwhelm too soon.

O sweet dessert! fair plate of fruit! with piece
of nutty earthy halva, finely wrought,
in a quenelle - cut right through the grease;
Thou, final dish! dost juicy delight brought
As doth Greek coffee: So unusual!
When roasty drink you have consumed posthaste,
then water flavored with the scent of rose
you drink, and leave refreshed. To thouself say'st,
'Beauty is truth, and truth beauty,-that is all
Ye know on earth.' (so don't bug me for photos)

Dinner tonight

2006-08-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

On weekdays when I go grocery shopping, I generally don't have time to cook. Usually I eat leftovers, takeout, or frozen food, but I was inspired by all the great ingredients in the market right now to make a fresh, easy dinner. I threw together a salad of arugula and green figs dressed with arbequina olive oil, lemon juice, and fleur de sel. Along with the salad I ate slices of Acme sour baguette with Marcel & Henri pâté de campagne. Don't worry, Ming, you'll be back in California soon enough.

Secret, Secret, I've got a secret!

2006-08-03T06:33:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, I ate at two restaurants, and uncovered two secrets. Well, maybe three. Yu-U's secret is its own continued existence. Flower Drum's secret is the not-on-the-menu menu (and I don't mean the written-in-Chinese-on-the-walls menu either - this menu isn't written anywhere but the memories of the waiters and chefs). The third secret? You'll have to read to the end of the post to find out.

Sadly, I only have two photos of food at these two restaurants. I was just too embarrassed by the idea of snapping photos during a meal. Luckily, I managed to overcome this photo-shame after some wine at Flower Drum. This convinces me that in the future, I must get slightly drunk before I go to restaurants alone or with respectable non-photo taking folk, so that I will have the courage to whip out my camera, despite the stares of my fellow patrons.

Yes, I am neurotic and full of shame. But you already knew that.

Only Yu-U

This is the only sign that marks the entrance to Yu-U. It is about the size of a greeting card. This is in fact the only outward sign that Yu-U even exists. The sign is in a shaded doorway off a tiny alley, which in turn connects only to a minor street. Graffiti covers the door, whose red paint is faded. The handle of the door looks worn.

When I arrived at 11:45 and tried to open the door, it was locked tight. I knocked. There was no response. The place gave all indication of having closed up shop.

I waited anyway.

Exactly at noon, I heard someone coming towards the door from the other side - footsteps ascending stairs. The door opened to reveal two women, who silently and nonchalantly mounted the following sign on the door:

Barely glancing at me, they turned around and the door started to close.

"Can I come in?" I asked, perhaps too loudly.

One of the women stopped, turned to stare at me, and hesitantly asked, "How many?" The other woman retreated down the stairs into the restaurant.

I was the only one in the alley except for two older white women who were obviously not with me (and seemed surprised to see the door open at all - I think they might have been going to Mini, whose entrance shares the alley with Yu-U's. I'll post about Mini next time)

"Just one," I said.

She frowned, as if thinking it over. I smiled what I hoped was a winning smile (in fact, I wasn't going so much for "winning" as "I'm so embarrassed to be imposing on your hospitality, but I really really REALLY want to eat here because I've heard so much about your food, and I know you often fill up quickly, but I got here early, and I'll eat fast and leave, and I'll be SUPER nice to my servers" - I'm sure there's an onomatopeia word for the sound your mouth makes when in that expression)

She stepped aside and motioned for me to come in. I saw her cast a somewhat suspicious glance at the two women who were still waiting in the alley, and then she followed me down the stairs, shutting the door behind her.

And... that's all I'm going to say about Yu-U. Some things a lady ain't s'posed to talk about. You'll just have to find it and eat there yourself when you're in Melbourne. Or hang out with me and ask me all about it.

Flower Drum

I went back to the office feeling quite refreshed by my lunch at Yu-U. A good thing too, as that night I went to Flower Drum.

You might be thinking to yourself: not another restaurant! You just had lunch in Yu-U and now you're having dinner at another fancy place? God, how often do you eat out, Ming?

To which I'd reply, you can eat out Ming whenever you want! Ho ho ho.

No? Too racy?

Anyway. Flower Drum.

Flower Drum is the subject of much controversy in the Melbourne foodie scene. Many who have eaten there say it's all hype, just your standard whiteyfied Chinese food but 3 times the price. Others who consider themselves "in the know" call it the best Chinese food in Melbourne, fine dining at its best.

To borrow an American metaphor, it's like the high school's most popular cheerleader. Is she an energetic, witty, sensitive, loyal, all-round great person? Or is she a mean, shallow, I-don't-know-what-he-sees-in-her, I-wish-she-was-my-friend, willing tool of the establishment? The answer is: both.

Luckily we went to Flower Drum as friends of the head cheerleader. A former food columnist, long time Flower Drum patron, and truly a bon vivant (bonne vivante?), SL is my uncle's friend from college, and I wish I'd met her earlier. She was on a first name basis with the waiter and apparently has had a standing reservation there at Chinese New Year for the past ten years or so. She's been a regular for 20 years.

We didn't order off the menu (really just a decoy for non-regulars, to ensure they never return - In my imagination, whenever some NOOB orders a dish on the menu, the chef just pulls something out of the freezer and tosses it in the microwave, then returns to the real work of making dishes for the regulars, while waitstaff in the kitchen snicker knowingly).

Instead, SL and the waiter (Barney, I think) figured out what we should eat that evening in a conversation far too rapid and far too Cantonese for me to understand. I heard "kai lan" and that was about it. My cousin Justin asked if there was going to be any duck. There wasn't, but it quickly got added. A good thing too - that duck was tasty!

There's really little point in telling you what we had*, since it's likely that they change the recommended food as stuff comes in. However, I feel I must mention two dishes. This is mainly because they were the two I photographed, but also because they were especially memorable, for different reasons.

*For my own edification and to allow your imagination free reign, however, I will list minimal titles of the dishes here:
XO sauce (Dried scallops, chilli, chilli oil)
Crab Xiao Long Bao
Stir fried conch with steamed asparagus and oyster and shrimp sauce
Peking duck
Barbecued Squab with five spice salt and lime juice
Wagyu beef with kailan
Fried egg white rice
fruit platter (watermelon, mangosteen, starfruit, strange variety of persimmon)
Durian sago pudding

I Wagyu. You Wagme. We all Wag-eachother for WAGYU!

The Wagyu with Kai Lan was memorable because it was awesome. You know how seared foie gras is like meat butter? This Wagyu was like beef brie. Caramely on the outside, meltingly soft on the inside. Not an ounce of gristle to be tasted (not even a picogram of gristle, since Australia is metric). Creamy without being greasy, beefy without being gamey, rare without tasting raw. If Aristotle could have tasted this meat, he would have made it one of his virtues.

Yeah, that's right. I paid some attention in Greek Phil after all.

The other dish was a dessert:

Dessert fit for a King (of fruits)

The Durian Sago Pudding was memorable for a quite different reason.

Durian is sometimes called the "king of fruits". I've often thought that if this were true, it attained its position through bloody, vengeful drawn-out wars followed by brutal suppression of dissent.

This is because of durian's (in)famous smell. In the hot and humid weather of Singapore and Malaysia, the durian's scent makes its oppressive presence known. Like the KGB, it invades every room of the house and infiltrates every cavity of your body.

This is fine if you like the smell. As a small child, I loved it. The scent of durians on the car ride home from the stall was sweet promise of custardy delights to come. The lingering durianstickiness in the air after we'd had our fill was a reminder of its rich, honeyed, unctuous pale yellow flesh.

Then, at some point that I don't remember (before the age of 8), I developed a strong aversion to durians, and hence their smell. The merest hint of it in the living room became occasion for prompt sequestering in my room, followed by dramatic gagging noises for the benefit of anyone in my family who cared to listen. I would scream in disgust if someone breathed in my direction after eating it. I'd insist on rolling down the car windows for days after a single durian had been in the trunk (double or triple wrapped). After a durian-eating episode, I'd smell it on everything - ice, vegetables, stationery, and complain loudly whenever I did (or imagined I did). Even durian products, like durian candy or durian cake (much milder than the fruit itself) occasioned anguished howls of protest if discovered in the fridge. I was quite the durian-hating terror.

Upon leaving Singapore for the UK and then the U.S., I was relieved to find I wouldn't have to encounter durians or durian products unless I sought them out. I never did, of course.

When the dessert arrived, I could smell that familiar smell. Not wanting to be rude, I tried some. So that's why this bowl of sago was memorable - it was the first time I'd tasted anything with durian in it for at least 17 years.

And you want to know a secret?

It was okay.

A Run-In With K-Food

2006-08-02T16:35:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday my boyfriend ran the second half of the San Francisco Marathon. He did an awesome job (2:07:21), despite initially running with a pace group that ran faster than they had advertised.

My friend Susanne also ran. Her performance was doubly impressive because she single-handedly organized a fund-raising effort around her running. That is to say, she wanted to raise money for The Stop AIDS Project, and so she coordinated with them on her own so that she could get sponsors and stuff. (I think she's raised like $2000 so far, and she's still getting money from people.*) It just goes to show you that the actions of individuals can change the world.

Anyway, how does this all relate to food?... Well, after running one is supposed to eat a good deal of protein, I'm told. I guess this is because it's a good source of calories and your muscles are all in need of rebuilding and whatnot. So, post-marathon, Dave and I went for a protein-rich dinner of Korean food at Dong Baek at O'Farrell and Leavenworth.

We found the recommendation on Chowhound, and needless to say we were not let down. We ordered the kal bi and the doon tofu chi gae (Tofu soup). SOOOO GOOD! While I feel like the kal bi was quite tasty, but not overwhelmingly so, the sides it was served with were awesome. The soup, however, was just plain out-of-this-world. It was creamy silken tofu served in a exceptionally spicy beef stock with pieces of beef and whole oysters in it. The oysters were incredible, so flavorful and perfectly tender. There were also mushrooms, which, mingerspice, I will grudgingly admit that I found delicious, as well as a few other minor vegetable accents.

With the check they brought a complimentary cup of a sweet chilled ginger cinnamon drink which was tasty, despite knowing that is was mostly sugar and water.

I can't find any pictures of their food, but their VERY EXTENSIVE menu is here.

* You can still sponsor her. Go here for details.

The Brasserie By Philippe Mouchel

2006-07-31T05:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you don't realise you've been craving a certain kind of comfort until it comes along and you heave a Goldilocks-worthy sigh of contentment - aahhh this is juuuuust right.

I went for lunch today with my friend Tim, who I've known since my days in England, and hadn't seen for three years. We used to spend many a day and night in London, sampling the many campy delights the gay scene had to offer, and some of the less campy ones as well. As something borderline camp, we also once went to a Vonda Shepard concert. Yes. That's right. I've been down this road, walkin' the line that's painted by pride. It was great fun. Vonda demonstrated the chicken dance, which I had never seen before (and I think neither had the largely English audience, who were as nonplussed as I was when it came time to join in).

Anyway, Tim has been in Melbourne the whole time that I've been here, but because I am totally incapable of maintaining long distance friendships except through IMs (Lolo, Evan and Fufu, take heed) I didn't know. EXTENSIVE SELFKICKING! Due to a confluence of lucky factors, however, we found out about our mutual Melbournelocatedness and decided to get together for lunch before I left.

We met at The Brasserie by Philippe Mouchel*, an oasis of fresh air and clean, bright sunlight in the claustrophobic Crown Casino (neon, tiny little yellow bulbs, and cheesily plush carpet). We picked up again as though no time had passed. The gossip, the banter, the giggles. It gave me hope that even though people change, sometimes friendships stay the same.

*Sounds a bit like the title of an 8 year old's essay does it not? "When I grow up, I will have a restaurant. It will be called The Brasserie. There will be good food. Like fish and cow and chicken. And people who eat there will be happy. And I will never dabble in molecular gastronomy unless I'm prepared to go all the way."

Good lighting is next to godliness (good food transcends religion)

It didn't hurt that the meal was flawlessly executed. Oh, the petit fours were a little underwhelming. I think they were stale. Other than that, flawless.

There are two things I learned at TBPM. First, something can be buttery, oily and creamy yet remarkably clean tasting at the same time. That thing is trout tartare. Second, I totally suck at using a cameraphone. You'll notice that all the photos of my food are blurry, while Tim's are crisp and required minimal photoshopping. Guess who took which photos. You can extrapolate about my incompetence to the interior photos, btw. Induction sometimes works.

Here's another interior photo, just because it's one of the few in focus

Returning to the theme of comfort, let's take a look at the cutlery. I noticed the unusual handle-design of the knives (and their odd orientation on the table) when we sat down.

Sure it's pretty, but how does it feel in your hand? (that's what he said!)

It turns out that the knives are much more comfortable for extended use than regular knives. You see, I use knives the "proper" way, with index finger extended and resting on the join between blade and handle (or on the blade). On a regular knife, where the handle's broad plane is contiguous with that of the blade, this becomes quite uncomfortable over time as it presses into your finger. On these knives, however, your finger rests slightly on the flat side of the handle as it meets the blade, meaning less pressure on that finger. Also, the grip is overall more comfortable, I'm not sure why.

Not that I really needed my knife for my first course (they call them entrees here in Australia, just like in France!):

Tartare of Tasmanian ocean trout, vegetable salad, mayonnaise and condiments

I came for the "Eat Local" allure. I stayed for the smooth, fresh, melt-in-your-mouth trout and the just-tart-enough potato salad (I think. I guess the potato is a vegetable) that it rested on. The little dollop of mayonnaise was just the right amount of added richness.

Tim had not ordered a first course, so we shared the tartare (which was quite a generous portion).

Here are our mains:

Mine: Roasted duck breast with braised witlof, orange vinaigrette

Tim's: Pan-fried fillet of snapper, spinach and boulangère potatoes

A shared side: Buttered potato and celeriac mash

What is "witlof" you ask? Ironically, I had to look at the French subtitles on the menu to figure out what it was. My dish's Gallic alterego was Magret de canard aux endives braisées, à la vinaigrette d'orange*. Yup, none other than that pale-leaved "let's make our salad extra posh" ingredient, the endive. This was the second time I've had cooked endive so boldly (and perfectly) presented as itself (as far as I remember). The first time was in L'Osteria del Forno in North Beach, where it was grilled with prosciutto.

*BTW I don't have some kind of supermemory or a handy notepad, I just grabbed this text off the handy online menu, which was the same at the restaurant today.

Everything was delicious. Tim noted that his fish tasted Chinese. All we needed was rice. I had some and agreed. Perhaps it was the minimalism of the flavorings along with the wok heong (which is really fancy Cantonese for the intense caramelization of the outside surfaces of food that occurs in a very hot wok or pan).

While we ate, it rained very heavily outside.

Then, an espresso break while we waited for desserts

Then desserts!

Sweet crêpes with rhubarb and strawberry compote, sorbet

Apple and calvados soufflé, honey ice cream

I think the names speak for themselves. Or maybe they don't. I'm damn tired though, so whatever they've got to say, they're going to have to do it. I will say this: both desserts were yummy, but Tim liked his better and I liked mine better. Is there any more perfect way to share desserts?

Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch

2006-07-29T11:47:00.000-07:00

I have five working days left in Australia, and I plan to eat in style with my remaining Ozbucks.

I've got recommendations from my uncle's food journalist friend for the top five places I should eat at for lunch in the city. I'm quite excited. It's time to stop eating mediocre sushi and start getting Real.

ANNOUNCER VOICE:
5 lunches. 5 restaurants. 5 cuisines. 5 future blog posts.

The Restaurants (and cuisines)

1) Brasserie Philippe Mouchel - French
2) Yu-u - Japanese Bento
3) Mini - New Greek
4) Il Bacaro - Italian
5) Pearl - Australian fusion

Stay tuned!

Nice eggs, Ludo

2006-07-27T23:08:00.000-07:00

A breakfast at Ludo has convinced me that there are two ways of making perfect scrambled eggs (thus resolving that ancient theological puzzle: Can there be more than one perfect being? Yes, if they are both plates of scrambled eggs).

The first way is the creamy classic, really more of a thick sauce than a solid food. The trick with this kind is to get it thickened enough to be eaten with a fork, but not so thick as to lose that sauce-like quality. In cooking school, we were taught to do this by whisking the eggs and cream constantly (but gently - you're not making a souffle, chef!) over a bain marie until we had almost achieved the desired texture, then to plate and let the residual heat do the rest - further evidence of its sauce-like nature.

This kind of scrambled egg is also a very transient form - left too long on the plate, the edges start to develop an unpleasantly tough skin, and the soft eggy curds start to give up their barely-held-in-suspension moisture and cream. The whole thing turns into a mess of chewiness and wateriness - the very antithesis of the homogenously-textured ideal. This means you have to eat it pretty quickly, and concentrate! It's hard to keep on the fork.

The other way (Ludo's way) is more a fluffier, moister version of an omelette or a quiche. I'm not too sure how they make it. It tastes like it has quite a bit of cream. It's the perfect texture for a long breakfast because since there are no liquid emulsions, no weird skin forms, and the curds don't collapse over time.

Ludo served the scrambled egg on a buttery piece of toast. I had mushrooms with sage on the side, as well as some bacon that (like Australia) seemed unable to make up its mind as to whether to be British or Californian - not quite crispy, not quite soggy. The mushrooms were beautifully done, their cut surfaces gorgeously browned, giving them that unique fungo-meatiness - Maillardariffic*. The sage leaves they had been cooked with were fried to crisp, brittle perfection - I smashed them with my fork and sprinkled them over some of the egg. Wow. A tomato would have been perfect, but I just couldn't bring myself to eat one out of season, and I certainly wasn't going to sully my plate with ketchup (which was, thankfully, not provided).

*by the way, if anyone wants to hang out and conduct the experiment from behind the link, let me know. It sounds way too fun to just do by yourself.

Ludo
118 Queen Street
Melbourne, VIC
(it's 2 blocks from where I work!)

Thanks to the Breakfast Blog for the 411 on Ludo.

Oh yes, the service was really good as well. They weren't all hovering, but my server was always there when I wanted him. My only complaint was the water - it had an odd and unpleasant stale taste, like maybe it had been sitting near something bad and picked up the smells.

Giant Alice Waters tattoo

2006-07-27T17:40:00.000-07:00

Sorry for offering nothing but a link, folks, but this New York Times Magazine slide show of the food-related tattoos of chefs is too good not to share.

Blog-Endorsement: Bacon Press

2006-07-26T01:18:00.002-07:00

Bacon Press is rocking my world. This food blog has such a unique voice (among foodblogs, at least). Jason C. if you're reading this, his storytelling style kinda reminds me of you.

My plans for the weekend now include reading, like ALL the archived posts.

Shameless photoblogging

2006-07-25T23:43:00.000-07:00

You know, there are certain foods that are so cheap and fulfilling when you eat them at restaurants that you never think of making them yourself. One of these things is pho. And yet, there I was, last Saturday, witnessing the creation of home-made pho. Quelle bizarre!

This is the flavorful liquid in which the chicken was cooked:

And this is the broth served with the pho (it's different!). This broth was prepared by my aunt and uncle in a large batch and frozen. It was deliciously gelatinous, sweet and beefy in a way that most restaurant broth is not.

Preparation material for pho takes up a whole counter! Of course it is sharing with the culturally diversity hire, hummus and grilled pita (And also this stuff called "mountain bread", which is this very very thin unleavened bread cut into squares).

And a pornographically close shot of the bok choy bottoms:

And my photo post is done. Sorry I don't have more text today.

Il Cantuccio

2006-07-25T10:47:00.000-07:00

Leg of lamb stuffed with
Machego cheese and spinach
A side of green beans

2006-07-21T19:01:00.000-07:00

My first experience with ghee involved a tedious process of separating butter for an indian curry. It had a pleasant nutty flavor in addition to the already delicious butter taste without the heaviness. I now buy premade ghee to avoid the tedium. Look at the pretty packaging (I got it at Rainbow Grocery). So why use ghee when butter is more readily available? Its buttery nutty flavor actual persists through dishes even after a long cooking process.

Ming lamented that his curries didn't turn out the way he wanted, and I suspect that it might be the omission of this key ingredient. The miso I got had a recipe that included sauteing some onions in butter as a base for the soup. Instead, I used ghee and the soup ended up with an unctuous richness that I think rivals crab broth. I have yet to make a curry with this store bought ghee. I think I'll use the pork butt I have in my freezer to make a tomato based curry. I'll let you all know how it turns out.

2006-07-21T14:20:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my boss returned from lunch exclaiming the delights of THE PERFECT TACO. Apparently, she had never been exposed to the tacorifficness of El Grullense. It made think about how regionally situated food is even in this age of transnational shipping and agri-business.

I think that as we move up north to Seattle, I will have yet another void in me (right next to the BBQ emptiness since leaving Texas) caused by taco longing. Perhaps I will be proven wrong, but my hunch is no.

On the taco subject, the New York Times has an audio feature about the "Taco Trail" in California. Why was I not informed about this magical trail before?!

(Editor's note: It is a travesty of technology that Blogger's spell check does not recognize "BBQ" as a word.)

Food-type Product

2006-07-21T13:26:00.000-07:00

In the spirit of Ming's post about food conservatism and bad food aversion, I'd like to see how folks respond to this thought:

Is it better to eat food-like products for sustenance than to eat bad food?

For example, today I opted to eat a Clif Bar rather than go to the EA cafeteria. My rationale was that the Clif Bar will not register as "food" in the food-judgment-region of my brain, whereas the cafeteria food would be recognizable enough, but be utterly bad, so as to cause a "bad food experience."

Memories of Foreign Food

2006-07-21T10:08:00.000-07:00

I got a great care package from John today (THANKS JOHN!!!), and it made me realize that sometimes eating (or contemplating eating) something from miles away can remind you of another place, also miles away.

Proustianically (Proustfully? Proustically?), the stage was set for this memorific realization by a cookie, or biscuit.

After my delight with the easy peasy lemon slice that I made with my cousin last week, I decided to solicit chowhounders' simple and tasty dessert recipes (listen to me, "simple but tasty", I sound like one of those awful "open two cans of mushroom soup" recipes). As part of my request, I posted the recipe for lemon slice, which included crushed Marie biscuits.

This was one of the replies:

Mingerspice, where are you located? I've only seen Marie biscuits in South Africa. I'm sure most chowhounders don't know what these are.

The thing is, I too grew up with Marie biscuits, and I associate them with my childhood in Malaysia and Singapore (although I was aware they were available in England as well).

photo from A Nice Cup of Tea And A Sit Down

Marie biscuits were quite a treat - I used to dip them in hot milo and, quality biscuits that they were, they then had the perfect texture - not so soft as to fall apart, but soft enough to melt the moment you took a bite. I had thought that, like most "luxury" confections I had growing up, they came from England. This assumption was true for such brands as Cadbury and the Marks & Spencers sweets (that's "candy" in American).

It turns out I was only partly right.

Marie biscuits - a brief history

I found a note on this geocities webpage about Marie biscuits' history, taken from another website - Tienda.com, a Spanish food retailer (I note the geocities webpage refers to the Marie biscuit in its preamble as a "cookie", using American English):

A vendor of foods from Spain relates this history of "the Queen of all Cookies":
"In 1875, the Grand Duchess Maria of Russia married the Duke of Edinburgh in a festive wedding, which caught Europe's fancy. To celebrate the occasion, a small English bakery in England created a sweet new cookie with Maria stamped on the top. Its popularity spread throughout Europe. Most of all, in Spain it became the nation's favorite cookie -- 40% of all cookies sold in the country.
Marias were first produced in large quantities in Spain around the turn of the 20th Century, but it was not until the Civil War that they became an integral part of the national culture. The long harsh years of the war plunged Spain deep into poverty, turning even a simple loaf of bread into a luxury. When the war ended in 1939, the nation's top priority was for every Spaniard to have enough bread. The wheat harvests were so plentiful that the bakers turned out huge number of cartons of Marias to consume the surplus. In those days, every cafe had a plate of Marias on the counter -- a happy sign of Spain's recovery."

There's a food history drenched in blood for you - created for the nobility of two European colonial powers, and then apparently a sign of celebration after the triumph of Franco (!).

I've seen them in the U.S. as well, in Ranch and/or other Asian groceries. Another reply to my post on chowhound noted that the poster had seen them "outside every Bodega", which would make sense given its hybrid English/Russian/Spanish heritage and history (ah, the fruits of colonialism). I wonder if they're available in the Russian food shops I've seen around the Bay Area.

All this is in aid of me noticing that a food doesn't have to actually be from a country to remind you of that country. Which leads me to Ritter Sport.

Ich bin ein Ritter SPORT fan!

Yes, they are made in Germany!

I've never seen Ritter Sport anywhere except California. Specifically, I first noticed them for sale at the Milk Pail market in Mountain View (a fabulous place to shop for food, btw). In fact, I don't recall encountering German food products in general anywhere except the U.S. Perhaps the Commonwealth countries (where I've spent most of my time) are still smarting from World War II and harbor a residual anti-German bias.

Whatever the reason for their absence in other parts of the world, I've come to strongly associate Ritter Sport chocolate with California. The characteristic square wrapper; that gratuitously masculine "SPORT" font (the irony of calling a chocolate bar "SPORT" is an endless source of amusement for me); and its surprising heft (it's much thicker than most other chocolate bars, certain Cadbury bars excepted). It's all Californian to me. As I've heard Ella croon - these foolish things remind me of you.

But when was your first time?

I don't remember the first time I ate Ritter, but I do remember back when I was living in Palo Alto, going to Milk Pail for some vegetable I needed for a meal I was making (possibly celery - I never have celery when I need it, or maybe it was bread?), quite annoyed at myself, then impulse-buying a Ritter bar, and eating the whole thing on the drive home (not a very long drive). Actually, perhaps I was going to Brooke's house for a party - as fun as those are, interacting with new people can cause anxiety and chocolate-eating. Or maybe I was driving home after work and was stressed out. Wow, this might not be a very pleasant memory after all. Well, the chocolate made it all better. Yes.

Side/Endnote: To all the amateur psychoanalysts reading this, does Ritter's obvious butchness (thick, square, SPORT-y, German) mean that I think of California as male? And does its patent campiness (thick, square, SPORT-y, German) mean that I think of California as a leather queen? Or perhaps the square shape is an active avoidance of male signals, since most chocolate bars are, well, long bars. After WWII, maybe these German chocolatiers didn't want to make phallic candy that would signify aggression? What would Freud say? What would Proust say? What would Butler say?

Wow, this has really turned out to be two posts in one (I spent way longer on Marie biscuits than I'd anticipated, but as I did research on them they turned out to be a bit more interesting than I thought they were, and I felt I had to share). Thanks for getting to the end!

Can I keep up the neologisms? Read more...

70,686 Square Miles of Delicious

2006-07-20T11:25:00.000-07:00

photo from Brett L.

Hello FewdBlawgers, I'm excited to join your ranks. I know my old personal blog never really got off its feet, but Mingerspice thinks I'll be a better blogger in this, a communal blog setting, and with the shared passion for the subject. We'll see.

Anyway, much is known about the unrivaled culinary Xanadu that is Google. In addition to Google's great stock options, Google employees receive a slew of benefits from laundry rooms to concierge services. They even have a ball-pit (like at Chuck E. Cheese), but the perk that I am certainly the most jealous of is their famously good food prepared fresh by their very talented chefs. My boyfriend has worked there for the past 8 or 9 months and is constantly making me green with envy as he rattles off lunch after lunch that makes my company's cafeteria food seem like pig slop. Actually,... it sounds head and shoulders above many of the restaurants that I frequent. And to add insult to injury, it's free! He probably wouldn't come home for dinner, if I didn't like food as much as I do (though I hear the dinners there aren't quite as good as the lunches). He'd probably grab a to-go box and eat dinner on the free shuttle that drives him home every day. No, I'm not bitter at all.

He's actually quite sheepish in reporting the amazing lunches that he's always having, careful to let me know about those rare cases where the food is only tasty and not exquisite. And he invites me to have lunch with him constantly. So yesterday I finally took him up on the offer. Why did I wait so long? Well, partly it's because I only drive to work very rarely. (Normally I take the train. BTW, today is a "Spare The Air" day!) And the other reason is that Google seems a bit far, and while, my office is pretty flexible on the whole "working hours" thing, I'm enough of a slacker that I don't want to seem like I'm always taking a long lunch hour. The good news is that it only took me 14 minutes to drive to Google, so the time pressure thing isn't really that big of an issue.

Cut to the chow:

Dave and I ate at Cafe 150. The name comes from the fact that everything served there is grown within 150 miles of the cafeteria. Yay local produce! I tried to load my plate with as many different things as I could in order to sample from the entire cornucopia of goodness that was there. I tried the trout almondine, the meatloaf, the root vegetable pot pie, the green beans, the broccoli carrot salad, the chicken salad, the mashed potatoes, and the vanilla-macerated strawberries and peaches. (Sadly even tiny portions of many things add up to a full plate very quickly. I think if I worked there I would have to check the menu before lunch just to make sure I didn't miss some gem that was hidden among all the other tasty things, which might finally be encountered with a full plate. Well, I guess it's all free, but I'd feel guilty about wasting good food... or gorging myself which is what I'm sure I'd actually end up doing.)

How was it you ask? AMAZING! The trout almondine was so succulent that I nearly started drooling just now thinking back on it. It was tender and rich and fresh tasting. Not the least bit over- or undercooked. And certainly not at all dry the way one might expect fish sitting in a cafeteria setting to become. (They serve relatively small plates of each dish at the counter which have a very quick turn over.) The green beans stood on their own, a dish of simplicity and a testament to the freshness of the cafe's ingredients. I was a tiny bit skeptical picking up the root vegetable pot pie. When I saw a Googler pass me holding a pot pie I knew I must have one, but I did not expect to find them hidden over at the vegetarian station, and I certainly wasn't expecting to have to exchange my visions of gravy smothered chicken for gravy smothered turnips. However, despite my disappointment at finding the dish was meatless, I'm glad I picked it up anyway. It was quite possibly the best amalgamation of root-vegetable flavors I have ever had, and I will certainly attempt to recreate its earthy goodness at home, with my Eatwell Farms Tokyo white turnips in the near future.

I took the chicken salad, which I don't normally like, because it looked rather different than any chicken salad that I had ever tried. The difference being that it had quite a lot more chicken than normal and it was really more of a main dish than a side. Lightly dressed with just enough mayonnaise to turn up the richness of the chicken and a few little bits of things to give it crunch, it was clearly the dish that my mom's chicken salad hopes that it might one day grow up to be. (Sorry mom, you know I adore almost everything else you make.)

They used a very brilliantly yellow carrot in the broccoli carrot salad, which made it beautiful on the plate (hardly any onion too, which was good). The mashers were also quality. The only thing that was a bit of a let down was the meatloaf. Its flavor packed quite a punch, but the texture wasn't quite there. It was a little too fine and homogenous and not really meaty enough. I suppose if I had had it in another context I wouldn't have had reason to complain, but in the middle of all the other fantastic dishes, I found it a bit lacking.

Not usually one for desserts, I went for the fruitier of the two, expecting the local produce to win out over the more processed Carrot Cake, and I'm glad I did (though Dave reports that the Carrot Cake was not to be trifled with... get it? "Trifled?") A minimal amount of fruit and cream atop a faintly sweet and rather crumbly biscuit was the perfect little ending to a wonderful meal.

So the upshot of all this is that I now know exactly what I'm missing when my boyfriend tells me how amazing his lunches are. But I also know that I'll be heading out there to eat at Cafe 150 again soon.

(Sorry I didn't bring my own camera, guys. I'll try to next time. Check out Brett L.'s Flickr page for pictures of more googlefood. The presentation is not amazing, but you'll at least get an idea.)

Here's the entire menu for the day at Cafe 150 (is there a way to hide part of the post from someone who is just a casual reader like you can on LJ?):
Vegetarian
**Tofu Lentil Loaf
Tofu and brown lentils blended with onions, celery, carrots and oats topped with toasted almonds served with mushroom gravy
*Root Vegetable Pot Pie
Golden turnips, celery root, carrots and onions stewed, topped with puff pastry and baked till golden brown
Sides
**Steamed broccoli
Main Course
Classic Meatloaf
Ground beef, veal and pork with onions, celery, tomato paste, eggs, bread crumbs baked and served with mushroom gravy
Open-faced Turkey Sandwich
Free-range turkey breast roasted, served on a slice of bread with mashed potatoes and gravy
Trout Almondine
Fresh rainbow trout stuffed with lemons, pan roasted and served with a toasted almond-parsley brown butter
Sides
*Mashers
**Green Beans
Tossed to Order Salads
Fill out a Ticket
Composed Salads
**Zucchini Corn Salad
Fresh zucchini and corn tossed with lemon juice, onions,
parsley, red bells, pine nuts and olive oil.
*Broccoli Carrot Salad
Fresh broccoli and baby carrots tossed with a julienne
red onions and apple-honey mustard vinaigrette.
Chicken Salad
Grilled Chicken tossed with celery, onions, thyme, carrots, mayonnaise, mustard and walnuts.
Soups
*Creamy Broccoli
Organic broccoli, yellow onion, shallots, cream sherry, white wine, cream, lemon zest
Beef and Torpedo Onions
Grilled hanger steak with red wine, reduced balsamic vinegar, red torpedo onions, veal stock
Desserts
Carrot Cake
w/ toasted walnuts, pineapple & white chocolate cream cheese frosting
Vanilla-Macerated Strawberries and Peaches
Served with a light and airy vanilla biscuit

Read more!

A Tasty Brew

2006-07-20T10:48:00.000-07:00

During my year of good beer, I've been increasingly sensitive to the lack of acceptance of beer as a "foodie" delight. In my biased opinion, beer is unique in its ability to draw rolled-eyes and comments of "it's all the same" from otherwise discerning individuals.

Lately, as big box breweries have expanded, small craft beer and microbreweries are starting to pop-up to fight this scourge. These small operations are the equivalent of the small farms starting up to compete with the agri-behemoths. Along with this resurgence comes a wealth of choices in beer--many that will surprise you.

So, in the hopes of evangelizing beer to the otherwise uninitiated among us, I am spreading the delicious, yeasty word. Onward to the recommendations!

For the "beer tastes like pee" crowd:

Samuel Smith's Nut Brown Ale

My ratebeer.com blurb: "A delightful example of the brown ale family. The nuttiness is deliciously accentuated with this one. Pour into a good mug, enjoy the perfect head, nutty aroma and youÂre gold."

This is a good starter-to-the-world-of-craft-beer person. It eases you into a more complex experience, without overwhelming. This style of beer is a good "gateway beer" for those who also cannot enjoy hoppy bitterness just yet.

For the "Guinnesss is the best stout" folks:

North Coast Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout

My ratebeer.com notes: "A beautiful pour with a dark, almost black body and milk chocolatey looking head. Intense flavor of chocolate and anise. Very strong, very flavorful."

This beer will change your perception of stouts if you are used to having only Guinnesss. The beer pours thick and completely black. Drinking this is a delight that can be reserved for dessert.

For the "beer can never be as complex as wine" snobs:

Rochefort Trappistes 10

Ratebeer.com description: "The top product from the Rochefort Trappist brewery. Dark color, full and very impressive taste. Strong plum, raisin, and black currant palate, with ascending notes of vinousness and other complexities."

This beer truly crosses over into the "fine wine" arena. It has amazing complexity and aroma that require repeated tastings to truly appreciate. Like wine, it has a pretty high alcohol content, so this is not your six-pack drinking brew.

And now, What would Evan drink every day given the opportunity?

St. Bernardus Abt 12

Ratebeer.com info: "The absolute top quality in the hierarchy of the St. Bernardus beers. It is also the beer with the highest alcohol content (10.50 %). A dark ivory coloured beer with a high fermentation. The show piece of the brewery. Thanks to its soft and unconditionally genuine aroma, the beer can be smoothly tasted. The Abt has a very fruity flavour."

Oh, St. Bernardus, let me opine to you. This happy monk has created quite a gem. I would not encourage everyone to snag one right away as it'll take some palate-training to appreciate. But oh, what joy once you are there.

----

I encourage everyone to run out to the store (you can find most of these at either BevMo or Whole Foods--my apologies to those in foreign lands... it's probably not as easy for you) and get a nice cold beer--but not too cold, as it ruins the subtle flavors and aromas! And even if you aren't close to the U.S., I encourage you to find the craft beer in your neck of the woods. I know that almost every country has micro-breweries hidden amongst the international beer giants.

Also, checkout Craft Beer Radio for news and tasting notes. Listen to one episode and tell me, how can you resist?!

Food and Race

2006-07-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

This is International Blog Against Racism week, and fewdblawg is getting in on the act! How can I participate too, you ask?

1. Announce the week in your blog.

2. Switch your default icon to either an official IBAS icon, or one which you feel is appropriate. To get an official IBAS icon, you may modify one of yours yourself or ask someone to do so, or ask oyceter to do so as she has agreed to make a custom one for everyone who asks, or go to her LJ and take one of the general-use ones she put up (which is what I did).

3. Post about race and/or racism: in media, in life, in the news, personal experiences, writing characters of a race that isn't yours, portrayals of race on TV, review a book on the subject, etc.

I actually heard about this week from this post over at reappropriate. Although she thinks that we should be blogging about racism all the time, I think it's ok for a food blog to do it a bit more rarely.

Wow that was a long preamble.

I was watching a news/current affairs program yesterday (I'm in Melbourne at the moment), and they were saying that 1/3 of Australians still think that immigrants are a "bad influence". "On what?!" exclaimed my aunt indignantly. Luckily the program framed this attitude as the problem (rather than immigrants themselves), and talked to some community organizers about how they were combating the stereotypes and hostility to immigrants.

One of the activities they mentioned was getting together for cross-cultural eating. "Food is a great way to get to know new people" said one organizer (or something like that). Which got my little overeducated mindwheels spinning, refusing to let me have that warm fuzzy racism-is-being-solved feeling:

1) Is this true/effective? Mexican and Chinese food is pretty damn popular in the U.S., but racism and xenophobia against those two groups is still pretty prevalent. Perhaps it has diminished over time, but is that really due to food?

2) Even if it is true, is it problematic that the way for (presumptively white) citizens to accept foreigners is to literally consume a part of their culture?

3) Also, where the immigrants are Asians, does this play into the stereotype of Asian immigrants just being able to be cooks and cleaners?

What do people think?

Fruit salad

2006-07-19T21:56:00.000-07:00

I bought way too much fruit this week, so I followed the suggestion in Chez Panisse Fruit and cut some of it up into a fruit salad. I tossed Santa Rosa plums, red seedless grapes, blueberries, and white nectarines with my previously-mentioned strawberry and rose geranium syrup. The result tasted lovely.

I am really pleased with my new cookbook, but at least once per chapter Alice Waters reminds the reader to purchase local, organic, and sustainable products. I'm all for local, organic, and sustainable, and I understand that Alice is just about the biggest hippie that ever lived, but the constant repetition makes me want to punch her in the face.

Chicken hearts

2006-07-19T05:10:00.000-07:00

The skewer on the right has grilled chicken hearts. Yes!

No, this post is not about eating chicken hearts. However, I did not take a photo of my actual experience, which is why I yanked the above from this excellent slashfood post by Sarah Gim.

This post is really about my chickenheartedness.

I'm referring to my fear of trying new restaurants (I'll save the discussions of my other fears for another time, another blog). Really, I could have called this post "navel gazing", but where are the fun food photos for that title? If you know of any culture that specifically eats navels (and has photographs of said navels) I'd be interested. Actually, do other animals even have "outie" navels that one could eat? Can one eat an "innie" navel? I'd even settle for a photo of a dish made of umbelical cord.

Right, enough about navels. Back to my fears.

Despite my foodie-leanings, I am afraid of going into a restaurant without either prior recommendations by people I trust, or a good review from at least two or three reliable sources (let's face it, even Zagat gets it wrong sometimes). I'm also afraid of ordering stuff in a new restaurant, and even ordering new stuff in a familiar restaurant, again, unless someone recommends something to me or I hear about it from a reliable source or two.

In fact, I am an all round food conservative when it comes to restaurant choice and ordering. If I were a single issue voter (and if that issue were food) it would be GOP/Tories/Liberals all the way. In order to highlight this fact, every time I notice myself say something neurotic & conservative in this post, I shall write "neurotic & conservative", or some appropriate variant thereof, in bolded red font. Like this: (neurotic & conservative).

I say that I am this way "despite" my foodie-leanings, but in fact this fear is in part because of my foodie-leanings, coupled with my general risk-aversion. It is because I put so much importance on having tasty food that I fear going into a restaurant and having something bad. I feel regret about it for hours, days, weeks, afterwards. Also I usually tell everybody I know about my bad experience in an attempt to exorcise it (sometimes I even blog it), so it's tiresome for all concerned.

Today, however, I went into a new restaurant that I hadn't heard of before, hadn't looked up beforehand, and in fact, hadn't even thought about going to until I walked past it on my way to another restaurant and thought hey, Singaporean food! Why not, eh, mate? I didn't actually think the "mate" part, I was just trying to give some Australian flavor. I didn't actually think the "eh" part either, I was just trying to give some, umm, Canadian flavor. In fact, I didn't think any of these words specifically, I was just (neurotically) trying to give y'all the gist of my thought process, brief as it was.

I put this photo here because I thought this was getting too text-heavy. Gross, huh?

Anyhoo.

The restaurant's name was Singapore Chom-Chom (I think), and the one feature that it had to recommend itself was that it was packed. I was somewhat disheartened when I was handed the menu, which was an incredibly long list of dishes. My general (neurotic & conservative) rule of thumb is the fewer dishes there are on the menu the better each dish will be - plus, the less I'll have to wonder about which other dishes I should have ordered if mine turns out to be crap.

I was already in the mood for soup noodles (I had been heading to a good ramen place, Ajisan - recommended by my cousin and already visited conservatively twice by me), and so I limited myself to the soup noodle section of the menu. There were still a neurotically daunting 25 dishes or so. I finally settled on chicken laksa, figuring (neurotically & conservatively) that it's hard to mess up something with coconut milk in it, and deliberately avoiding the regular laksa, which had shrimp. That is another (neurotic & conservative) rule of thumb - avoid seafood in new restaurants.

So they got my order wrong and I ended up having the regular (shrimp) laksa. The shrimp was, as I had neurotically but correctly feared, not too fresh, and overcooked. Fortunately, there was only one piece of it. The rest of the bowl was packed with chewy noodles, earthy beansprouts, sweetly brown deep-fried pork skins, springy fishcake and juicy fried tofu puffs.

Ooh, I feel a bit like Patricia Unterman (she of the long lists of adjectivized nouns).

The service was efficient, if a little bit rushed. The place stayed packed well past the lunch hour, so it was totally understandable. In the end, the bill came to only A$8, which is about US$6. Leaving a tip is not expected in Australia and, conservatively, I didn't.

An added bonus - because the place was packed and people were subtly encouraged to eat and go, there wasn't much lingering and chatting, which made me feel (neurotically) like less of a loser for having lunch by myself (just me and my New Yorker, which, because of the importedness, cost more than lunch).

So overall, I conquered my neurosis and conservatism, and I had a good experience at a new restaurant near my work.

I think it is fair to say - WOOT!

Click here to read more...

Outdoor fooding

2006-07-18T18:45:00.000-07:00

I recently got back from a weekend rafting trip, which was fun. The food was, by necessity, processed, preserved, and packaged. However, we did do some cooking. I marinated some chicken thighs with soy sauce, ginger, cilantro, green onions, mirin, rice wine vinegar, and sesame oil. We had a portable stove and my calphalon everyday pan. I only brought a wooden spatula and a silcone turner to the trip, but we seemed to make do. I browned the chicken on both sides, then deglazed the pan with onions, then some of the marinade. I added some chopped red chard and let the liquid reduce. It was great in a minimalist-Walden kind of way.

The next day for dinner, I grilled a marinated tri-tip roast over some burning driftwood that we gathered from around the campsite. I got to practice my meat doneness finger as I repeatedly poked the meat to test it. It came out with a nice medium at the ends with gradations into medium rare all the way to the center. Also, we wrapped potatoes in foil and threw it right over the smoldering wood. I've never done that before and was a bit skeptical because of the alzheimer's-aluminum connection, but it turned out perfectly. We ate it with some sour cream.

For breakfast, we fried up some bacon and then fried some eggs in the bacon fat. Other than that, we had things like string cheese, cliff bars, sandwiches, and fruit. It was an interesting mix of white trashiness and bourgeois foodiness. On our way home, we stopped at a Sonic burger restaurant. It was probably my first and last time there. They had an interesting drive-through concept, but a concept does not good food make.

Also, we discussed tubgirl.com. It's marginally food related. Check it out.

Thumbprint cookies

2006-07-16T22:26:00.000-07:00

Made a Santa Rosa Plum Tart from my new cookbook Chez Panisse Fruit, but it didn't turn out well. The thumbprint cookies I made from the leftover dough, however, were amazing. They are filled with a little bit of the Christine Ferber plum jam I got in Paris.

Phil'z Coffee

2006-07-15T22:51:00.000-07:00

I <3 Phil'z Tesora Coffee. I know it has got to be that scoop of brown sugar and yummy cream, but it's a tasty blend. Even the fu liked it, and he's not a coffee drinker.

The barista told us that newbies to Phil'z had to start off with this beverage. He then went on to make each cup individually. (He loved these photos btw!)

The store keeps a big bunch of mint on the counter so that they can add some minty freshness to each cup. I actually didn't think one leaf would impart that much minty flavor. Maybe they tucked some extract into the mix when I wasn't looking. But it was nice--not overly minty like a stick of gum, but just enough to be seductive.

On our second trip, Fu and I tried different coffees. Fu went for their iced coffee which he seemed to enjoy. I got the Phil Harmonic as the barista explained that it had cardamom (my favorite spice) in it. I was seriously dragging that day, so I got a large. Of course this was also the day I ate raw/live food at cafe gratitude, and man, that coffee hit me like no tomorrow. I was seriously buzzed in that nauseating-head-pulsing-palpitating-dizzying way. No more larges for me. The harmonic was yum, but I enjoyed the tesora more. Next time, I'd like to try the ether.

I guess the only thing that bothers me about Phil'z is that they use a 'z' instead of an 's' in their name. I suppose since I haven't met Phil, I can't really tell if the 'z' fits... he may be a lil' bit gangsta', so I'll let that be.

Eat This with Dave Lieberman

2006-07-15T20:30:00.000-07:00

This is a pretty smart show. Also Dave is Teh Hawt. There are 13 episodes, all available online. I think Dave is the male Rachael Ray. I'd like to see him posing in his underwear next to a sink full of suds. Mmm.

Here's the show.

Ramen!

2006-07-15T10:19:00.000-07:00

This time a special report from the team's man in Japan. Tokyo is certainly a foodie's paradise, but as a poor student, I tend to stick to the cheap, greasy, plebian foods. So, this time, a post on that most quintessential of cheap Tokyo eats - Ramen. This was not just any ramen however, but ramen from the famous "Ramen Jiro". Apparently its fame has traveled so far that there was even a story an NPR about it. Of Tokyo's many, many ramen shops, Jiro always makes the top lists - it may not be the absolute most delicious place in Tokyo's ramen scene, but it is certainly the most ridiculous. There is probably no other bowl of ramen anywhere in the world as big and greasy as Jiro's. The cooks wear rubber boots to wade through the fatty pork soup that spills onto the floor and its considered good etiquette to wipe the oil off the counter with a towel provided especially for that purpose. The first time I ate Jiro I shuffled (not able to maintain a steady walking pace) back to the train station, unable to mutter anything but the word "Jiro" over and over, floating through a heady, pork lard-induced fog. I'm a vegetarian, but I make a special exception for ramen in Tokyo.

After climbing Mt. Fuji, my buddy Kevin and I headed straight for Jiro without dropping our gear or changing clothes. We knew that unless we got there early, we'd be faced with a long wait to get a seat, something neither of us wanted, having scaled a nearly 4000 meter mountain without sleeping earlier that morning. The store opened for dinner at 5:45 so we showed up at 5:00 and were the first in line. Within twenty minutes, the line was stretching down the block around the corner. This was at the Takadanobaba branch restaurant - at the original restaurant in Mita the wait can apparently be over two hours long and the store usually has to close when they run out of noodles around 3:00 PM. The chef opened the door at 5:45 on the dot, and after buying tickets (lots of ramen shops have a pay first system), took seats at the counter, strategically near the self-service water cooler. Our bodies aching, our mouths watering, we watched the cooks, towels wrapped around their heads to keep the sweat out of the soup, pour out the first bowls. The price difference between a regular and large bowl of noodles was only 50 yen (just under 50 cents), so we figured why not - Kevin's one of the biggest eaters I know, so I tried to goad him into ordering his noodles with quadruple pork, but he wisely stuck with just a large bowl, which looked something like this:

The pic is taken from above, so maybe its hard to appreciate the vertical size of the mountain of toppings layered on the bowl. The bowl is jam-packed with the thickest hand-cut noodles you've ever seen, which took almost half an hour to work through. It was a long hard battle, but we both managed to vanquish the entire bowl - toppings are free at Jiro, so I got bean sprouts, red pepper, and garlic (Jiro's specialty), Kevin got all those plus roast pork and an extra helping of lard on top, just to really go for the gusto. It's certainly a good thing he didn't try to challenge the quadruple pork. Apparently theres a super size that doesn't even appear on the menu. According to the NPR story, finishing the super size makes one a legend. We polished off every last bit of noodle, bean sprout, and pork, but couldn't bring ourselves to drain the bowls of all the soup, which apparently is a must for a true Jiro devotee. I guess we've still got some training to do:

I felt surprisingly good afterwards (I had barely eaten that afternoon), but Kevin was barely able to make it home. He did find time to pose, clutching his stomach, outside the store:

We went home and immediately fell into deep slumber. The true challenge of Jiro, however, isn't finishing the bowl of noodles, its dealing with the aftermath. I'll spare a description of the fights over the toilet the morning after. A small price to pay, however for eating the most ridiculous bowl of ramen of one's life. There may be more delicious bowls of ramen in Tokyo, but there is certainly none more intense.

Cheese cake

2006-07-15T06:45:00.000-07:00

Not content to have merely one lemony dessert, I decided to make these mini cheesecakes as well. The recipe comes from my aunt Vinita. I used one of those silicone baking tins (is it appropriate to call it a tin, even though it's not even a metal?).

A long time ago, when I cared about dieting, I remember reading that if you have things in small portions, you are less likely to overeat. Does that count if the little cheesecakes are so tiny that you can eat four or five at a time? I'm trying to regain my fat lost to fever. I can see my ribs, for gods sake.

The silicone tin.

The finished product, with citrusy garnish.

Vinita's Cheesecake

The filling:
500g cream cheese, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
zest and juice of 2 lemons
Cream together the sugar and cream cheese.
Incorporate the eggs one at a time.
Mix in the vanilla, lemon juice and lemon zest.

The base:
200g cookie crumbs
60g butter, melted
1/3 cup warm water
Mix together.

Press base mixture into the bottom of muffin tins.
Divide up the filling. I actually didn't have quite enough filling to go around, so I might halve the base mixture. It should make about 12 muffin-sized cheesecakes (I ended up with 18, but like I said, the filling was thin on the ground).

Unbaked Goods

2006-07-15T04:43:00.000-07:00

My cousin doesn't cook, but she makes a mean dessert. Following hot on the heels of Lori's raw food post, here is my own "raw food" story - not really raw, of course, since we used condensed milk, marie cookies, and pasteurized butter. I'm fast becoming white trash.

The process is simple - mix everything together. The order isn't especially important. After that, mix up the icing (we were so lazy we didn't sift the icing sugar - no ill effects noticeable), and ice. Stick it all in the fridge, then cut into squares and serve with lemon. If you're feeling fancy, some earl grey tea might be appropriate.

Lemon Slice

1/2 cup condensed milk
125g. butter
250g crushed marie biscuits
1 cup dessicated coconut
Zest of 2 lemons

Heat condensed milk and butter until butter melts.
Mix together crushed biscuits, coconut and lemon zest.
Mix together wet and dry ingredients.
Press into a square baking sheet.

Icing:
1 3/4 cup icing sugar
3 tbsp lemon juice
15g butter, softened
Zest of one lemon

Mix together all ingredients.
Spread on the cookie mixture.

Cafe Gratitude

2006-07-14T19:24:00.000-07:00

We brought in the vegan cheese today. Remarkably, after sitting out and straining it in cheese cloth over night, it actually tastes more like cheese! The plain actually did develop a cheddar like flavor! So F'son's name and mine should be in acknowledged when their cook book comes out... hurrah!

Speaking on Cafe Gratitude, I suppose I should actually post about our trip to eat lunch there last week. We sat at a community table with 2 other folks we didn't speak to the whole meal (which was a bit awkward... I'm normally friendlier at communal tables... meh oh well)

We sat down at colorful muraled tables and were immediately given glasses with hemp cloth napkins and an inspiring bottle of water. Ours said "worth"

the close-up fu had me take

Now take a look at the menu. You have to get past the inspiring names to enjoy your meal... I ordered the I AM CELEBRATING which was their daily special. It was cucumber noodles with a yummy vinaigrette and stuff I can't remember, over salad. It also came with some amazing sunflower crackers with some sort of spread (now I think it was one of the flavored cheese spreads... having made some myself now).

I ate it all... so scrumptious! (i liked this photo on bay area bites... so i'll bite their photographic idea)

the fuster got the I AM ABUNDANT sampler plate with live nachos, kale-sea veggie salad, stuffed mushroom, olive tapenade, live hummus, and a mini Thai coconut soup. Served with assorted live crackers and almond toast. It was an amazing array of raw food. Delicious too as the fu generously (perhaps the gratitude stuff was rubbing off on him) shared a taste of everything on his plate.
If you come here for the first time, I'd definitely recommend getting this dish.

Seriously though, the live crackers are the bomb. I may have to seek out a dehydrator in Seattle just so I can make these things!

We also split an I AM GRACE Frosty coconut smoothie with young coconut milk, almonds, dates, and vanilla. Fu really liked it. I thought it was a bit rich, but I've never had a smoothie quite like it. So yes, you should try the smoothies.

Okay. I will later blog about the Burmese restaurant Fu and I went to today... it was still crowded around 1:30p and we got to eavesdrop on the old peeps next to us talking about Rachel Ray.

vegan cheese making

2006-07-13T23:03:00.000-07:00

Fu just left after we made two quick batches of vegan cheese. Vegan cheese basically consists of soaked cashews, red miso, coconut oil, salt, and water.

While I tried to be a good food blogger and ensure that there were photos documenting the process... unfortunately, vegan cheese is not a pretty adventure... it's actually a rather bland photography subject.

Judge for yourself

Begin with wet cashews in a blender. Then blend with all the other ingredients until you get a smooth consistency.

hang in cheese cloth

I wanted to get a pic of the funani trying the cheese, but apparently, I missed that moment...

Anyhoo, it really doesn't taste like cheese... it tastes like... miso. So we're hoping after draining for a night, that it will taste more like cheese. Our first batch we left plain, but the second batch we flavored with cumin.

Tomorrow we bring it all back to Cafe Gratitude for the manager to taste how we did...

2006-07-13T11:29:00.000-07:00

I'm new to this blogger thing, so this is a test. My usual user names were taken so I'm now homomorphism (a structure-preserving map between two algebraic structures). To make this about food, I guess I can talk about my kefir. The grains have grown about 20% since I started culturing goat milk three days ago. When it gets a bit bigger, I'll take some pictures of my new pet. I'm also going to start culturing some vegetables. I'm probably going to start by making some kimchi. Pictures to come...

2006-07-13T09:58:00.000-07:00

Hello (small) world indeed. I went a little nuts at the Palo Alto Farmer's market last weekend and bought Pimientos de Padron from Happy Quail Farms, some Acapella cheese from Andante Dairy, and a bottle of Strawberry and Rose Geranium syrup from June Taylor. All were expensive and none were as delicious as I had hoped they would be. Not to say that the items were bad - just not amazing. Of the three, my favorite is the syrup, which tastes strongly of rose geranium.

2006-07-13T00:40:00.000-07:00

hello fewd blawg world!

sounds like feud blog to erv and me... should we come up with foodie challenges :)

as for foodie relatedness, fu and I went to Cafe Gratitude in the city last week. We opted to help try out a recipe for their upcoming cookbook and report back to them this week. We're making a vegan cheese out of cashews and miso (plus some other stuff). We'll post how it turns out!