Monthly Archives: June 2011

Bento & Experimental Failure

Posted on by

Well, the past couple of weeks have been interesting.  Remember how I posted about the porridge a while back?  Well, turns out that was only the tip of the iceberg on the sickday train, that little thing coming back to whollop me and put me out of commission last week almost entirely.

What did I eat?  Things I didn’t have to cook and didn’t have to clean up after…a slightly embellished premade thai soup was about as fancy as I got.  I’m going to go ahead and blame our recently crazy indecisive weather in the bay area for me being sick, and thus the distinct lack of blog posts.

Yesterday, I did something against my better judgement.  I was craving green beans au gratin really badly and had all sorts of nifty cheeses lying around (parmesan, manchego, chevre).  Make a little roux, add some milk, throw in the cheese, then some parcooked green beans– bound to be awesome! Here’s where I nod my head downward in shame: I only had unsweetened vanilla almond milk.  How vanilla-y could it be?  It wasn’t that sweet, and didn’t seem vanilla-y in my cereal.

Well, it was vanilla-y.  And so was my awful-gratin.   I knew better, but I tried anyway.  And I somehow managed to get myself to eat half of it before giving up.

Moral of the story: Trust your judgement.  And make sure you always have unflavored milk or alternative milks in your house for spontaneous au gratin or homemade mac & cheese or alfredo cravings.

Anyway, today’s craving for some reason was sushi.  Impatience was my nemesis today, boiling the rice while staring hungrily at the stove.  Boiling some unseasoned rice vinegar with brown sugar (not typical, but brown sugar works fine).  Mixing the two together.  Toasting the nori.

…Aw hell, do I really want to wait for this to cool?  No.  Spread the warm rice on the nori. Add ingredients. Roll.  Notice it’s soggy.  Hold the roll over the gas stove for a bit until the outside gets crisp again.  Slice. Eat.  Satisfying.

I’m not a sushi master and never will be.  My sushi was warm and soft.  I humbly bow to those who have the patience and can manipulate it to be perfect in every way.  But, let me tell you, if you have a desperate sushi craving and the right materials around, it can take you 30 minutes from start to start eating to pull it together.

Today’s combos:

  • umeboshi, cucumber, daikon, carrot, maguro
  • cucumber, umeboshi, carrot
  • maguro, gochujang, carrot, daikon

The leftovers are tomorrow’s bento, along with some hamachi and fukujinzuke, as you can probably tell from the picture above.

I’m not sure I’ll have another chance to post before I go off to South America for vacation for 2 weeks.  I’ll be hitting up Peru for the tourist classic Macchu Picchu, ceviche (and the potential post-ceviche digestive regret), some additional adventures, and a few pisco sours to be followed by a visit with friends in Ecuador with an itinerary that is still TBD.

I won’t be cooking, most likely (unless my friends in Ecuador want me to cook for them), but I’ll try to post some foodie pictures and tell tales of my adventures if I have the time and internet capability.  So, don’t hold your breath, but keep your eyes open. :)

Dueling Kung Pao Chickens

Posted on by

Those with some knowledge of Chinese culture or world travel experience know that the Chinese food you get in American Chinese restaurants and the Chinese food Chinese people eat at home or in restaurants are two different beasts entirely.  Chinese people seem to be big fans of meat having some resistance to it, a la tripe, chicken feet, tendon, stewed pork belly with the skin on, and a whole lot of other offal.  They’re also not as removed from the fact that their meat was an animal before, tending to prefer bone-in meats like oxtail.

Chinese people, though, being the amazingly resourceful people that they often are, figured out a long time ago out that Americans probably don’t like this whole chewy texture thing as much.  We like fried things.  Crispy things.  A lot.  And stuff with sauces and familiar flavors and vegetables.  This is my best guess as to how Americanized Chinese food was born: Chinese people figured out what Americans like, and tailored their cuisine to be addictive to Americans.  I think they did a darn good job.

However, I like both Americanized Chinese food and more authentic Chinese food, each on their own separate incomparable planes of existence.  One such dish that crosses the boundaries in name and concept is Kung Pao Chicken, or 宫保鸡丁(gōng bǎo jī dīng).  The Americanized version has battered boneless chicken bits fried until crispy and covered with a spicy somewhat sour sauce, with whole peanuts added and maybe some other vegetables. The Chinese version kind of omits the whole crispy factor and keeps in the bones and skin, doesn’t add any unnecessary vegetables, uses more local varieties of vinegar, and adds some spices more unfamiliar to the American palette (namely, Sichuan Peppercorns or 花椒).

Oddly, I like the Chinese version a lot better.  Normally I’m not a huge fan of peanuts in food, but it works somehow.  Tonight, inspired by my friend Jiaxu’s peanutless recipe that was very similar to this, I attempted cooking my own gōng bǎo jī dīng.  The results were tasty, but need some perfection.  You can see my recipe below with suggestions as to how to make it better.  I suspect my recipe is somewhere in between the lands of Americanized and Chinese Chinese cuisine.

—

Gong Bao Chicken

(serves 2 with rice)

  • ~1 pound of bone in, skin on chicken thighs (3 thighs)
  • 1/2 c rice wine (I just used sake, because it’s what I had.)
  • 1 c black vinegar
  • pinch salt
  • 10 dried red “chiles de arbol”, basically dried red thai chilis, or something similar
  • 2 tsp powdered Sichuan peppercorn (“flower pepper”, or sometimes, “red pepper”, 花椒)
  • 1 tbsp peanut oil
  • 1/3 cup raw peanuts, smashed with a cleaver or other wide knife (plain roasted peanuts will suffice, just don’t fry them as long.)
  • 2 green onions, roughly chopped, ends removed
  • 2 cloves of garlic, peeled and sliced into thin coins
  • additional black vinegar

(If you can’t use black vinegar, my best suggestion would be to use cider vinegar plus a tiny bit of Worcestershire sauce mixed in with it to mimic the flavor.)

Cut chicken thighs into 2-3″ pieces using a cleaver.  Marinate in a bowl with rice wine, vinegar, salt, powdered sichuan peppercorn, chili peppers, for about 1-2 hours (or overnight if you want).  Drain off extra marinade before using.

Add the oil to a wok (or large skillet of the cast iron or stainless steel variety) and bring it up to smoking hot.  Add additional whole sichuan peppercorns if you have them and like them and the smashed raw peanuts.  Fry it up until the peanuts are slightly crispy and browned.  Add chicken, keep moving around the pan, browning the meat a bit.  Should take no more than 2 minutes.

Add the green onions and garlic, stir.  Add additional vinegar, probably about 2/3 cup or so.  Keep the chicken moving around, coating it with the vinegar.  It should get considerably darker in color. Keep cooking until vinegar is absorbed into chicken and/or evaporated– no liquid should remain on the bottom of the pan.

Serve hot.  Avoid the chilis and the bones in the chicken.

—

A lot of Americans are not fans of having to avoid things in their food.  When they go to authentic Chinese restaurants, they complain about not knowing that they’re not supposed to eat whole seed pods in the hot pot broth and the like.  You just have to learn or ask. If it’s not chewable or burns your face off, don’t eat it.  If this bothers you, stick to Americanized Chinese food.

Having things you aren’t necessarily supposed to eat (that are just there for flavor or seasoning) makes you more aware of what you’re eating. It makes for a more mindful and appreciative slwo experience, which honestly is one of the reasons I think we have to blame for obesity in America.  If things weren’t designed to be consumed quickly without having to avoid things, we’d have to take a little more time and our “fullness” instinct would kick in sooner.   It’s worth a shot if you cook at home to stop designing your food for efficiency and increase the attentiveness requirement of your meals.  It might also save you some money, too.

Miso Lentils

Posted on by

Well, I’m giving lentils a shot again.  This time it’s red lentils rather than the green/brown ones.  The others are tasty, but a little spicy and overpower delicate seasoning.  The red lentils have their outer layer moved, so they work better for delicate seasoning and can create a creamy texture.  It’s been a while since I’ve made or posted a bento, too!

Tomorrow’s bento: rice, homemade furikake , umeboshi, a couple other types of tsukemono, fresh shiso leaves, marinated tofu, and miso lentils.

To make the lentils: use equal parts red lentils and water.  Rinse lentils well, let soak for an hour or so, rinse again.  Add to pot with the water, add 1 heaping tablespoon of fresh (the kind you need to refrigerate, not powdered!) miso for each cup of lentils, 1 coin fresh ginger, and a tiny piece of star anise.

Boil 45 minutes, or until lentils are soft.  Drain off any extra liquid if necessary. I like to press mine down.  Savory, complex flavor with none of the usual bitterness of lentils.

Loquat Butter

Posted on by

(c) Kestrel Dunn, 2011At long last, the rain has stopped and the loquats have begun ripening in the landscaping around the area.  The loquat, or 枇杷, is an evergreen fruit tree native to China, but was introduced to landscaping in the U.S., most likely due to its textured foliage and brightly colored fruit.  It’s vaguely related to the apple/pear and stone fruits.

Photo of a loquat tree, (c) Lori_NY, from Flickr

Why is the loquat awesome?  The fruit is soft and quite juicy, with thin skins, and a tangy flavor that I can best describe as a cross between a pear and an apricot.   They’re quite fragrant, in a good way.   This is what keeps me going back into different apartment complexes’ landscaping and collecting bagfuls.

Given that it’s somewhat close to an apple, I figured I’d try my hand at making some loquat butter.  Loquats being more fragrant, however, I personally don’t think you need to add any cinnamon or anything.  It just detracts from their natural flavor.  My recipe below will yield a tangy, smooth butter.  If you like apple butter and you like apricot jam, you’ll probably like this.

The Loquat Butter Ratio

4 parts loquats, seeded and destemmed, skins retained
1 part water
2 parts sugar

(4 cups of  loquat meats will yield about a pint of loquat butter)

Loquats are ripe when their skins are as orange as they can get (not as orange as a pumpkin, but definitely not yellow) and they come easily off the tree.  You can easily seed them by digging your thumb into the fruit from the bottom and popping out the shiny brown seeds.

Always remove the seeds!!  Like apples, their seeds contain cyanogenic compounds.  Yes, cyanide.  But as long as you remove them, you’re good.  Leave the skins on, though, because they give it a pretty color, and I suspect they have the most vitamins.

Once you’ve got all your seeded loquat meets, add them to a pot with the water and sugar, mix well.  Bring to a boil.

Reduce them to a simmer.  Let them simmer away for a good hour or so, stirring occasionally, until they somewhat disintegrate.

Then, throw all of this in a blender or food processor and give it a whirl.  (If you’re more patient and have a crock pot, you might be able to skip this step and just let it cook forever. Not sure if the skins would break down enough though.)

Put all of this back into your pot, or into a frying pan like I did.  Let it simmer for another 30 minutes to an hour, stirring more frequently than before.  It should reduce down by about 1/4-1/3.

Use whatever canning method you like.  If you’ve made one pint and you plan to use it within a few weeks, just throw it in a jar and keep it refrigerated.  If you want to keep it longer or give it away as presents, use some sort of legitimate serious canning method.

I, however, am not going to wait.  I am going to eat my seasonal prize, the result of my being looked at funny for standing knee deep in English ivy to reach a tree with particularly voluptuous fruit.

Loquats are also awesome in cocktails, fruit salad, or on ice cream.

Chicken Soup for the Asian Soul

Posted on by

Today I’d like to introduce you to what I, strangely, think is one of the most beautiful Chinese characters: 粥 .  If you’re walking around sniffling and coughing and see this character outside a Chinese, Japanese, or Korean restaurant, you’re in luck.

Zhōu, jook, congee, okayu, it’s a food with many different names that I would imagine evolved independently in all of these countries, and well, anywhere that serves rice.  When all you have is rice and some stuff to put in it and you want something warm, porridge is the way you go.  It makes rice go a long way: 1 cup of rice will easily make 4 hearty servings of porridge.  Unlike oatmeal or cream of wheat in the U.S., though, rice porridge is generally savory and can be eaten any time of day, though is commonly eaten for breakfast in China.

It’s cold winter day food.  Sick people food. Baby food.  Poor people food.  Zhou is widespread and will fill your stomach like a simple hug.  You can add whatever you want to it to make it however you’d like, and as thick or thin as you like it.  The southern Chinese will add  ground meat, a few finely chopped mushrooms and very thinly julienned ginger, maybe even some raw peanuts, and top it with green onions.  Northern Chinese might add spinach and keep it simple.  Japanese might add fish eggs and pickles along with green onions.  Koreans might throw abalone or some of their beloved kimchi in there .

The type of zhou that I like to make when I’m sick is generally somewhat thick (8:1 water to rice ratio), cooked slowly, and often vegetarian.  I bring the rice  in the water to a boil, then turn it down to very low simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally to make sure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot.  While it’s cooking (about halfway through), I add finely chopped shiitake mushrooms, and then when it’s almost done, some spinach, then top it with green onions.  I’ve been known to put peanuts in mine too, at the same time as the mushrooms.  It can cook for as little or as long as you want, but I’d advise that you give it at least 40 minutes of cooking and stirring and let it cool for a minute before you eat it.

Today’s zhou is a sort of hearty sino-japanese hybrid. I’ve added the mushrooms and spinach and topped it with green onions, Yuzukoshō, one of my mom’s homemade salted duck eggs, and bonito flakes.  (Now, mom, you know one thing you can do with those salted duck eggs you made!)  Let’s hope it scares off the germs that have been bothering me this weekend!

For more rice porridge goodness and ideas, check out the wikipedia article. Only if it was a beloved food to many would such a simple dish have such a long wikipedia article.