Having finally moved in to our first real home, I was eager to cook something for my husband I knew he would enjoy.
My kitchen was unpacked, and the counters scrubbed to a shine. I filled my pantry with pastas, canned goods, spices and snacks. The fridge was also full of local California products: chicken,shrimp, lettuce and herbs; lemons and limes. I was ready to create a masterpiece. A meal to remember, our first real meal in this home. I poured a glass of wine and assembled the ingredients. Fresh shell-on shrimp, garlic, pickled ginger, cilantro. I'm whipping around the kitchen, cooking rice, sauteing garlic and butter, peeling shrimp. I was trying to cook something familiar, but with my own twist. The scent of jasmine filled the air as the rice bubbled away in its pot. Having sauteed all the ingredients, I heaped the fluffy rice on top, gently pressed it all down, and covered with a tight fitting lid. I reduced the heat on my un-familiar stove, and lay down on the couch, satisfied and waiting for my hubby.
An hour later, G arrives. He exclaims at the sweet smell in the air, proclaiming his ravaging hunger. I laugh and enter the kitchen, prepared to reveal my masterpiece to my husband. It was nothing, I'm telling myself, just something I threw together. I turned the pot upside down onto the waiting plate. My heart sank deep into my stomach as my eyes came upon the burnt and charred shrimp.
I threw the pot in the sink, then threw myself on the couch and buried my face in the pillows. "What's wrong?", my husband asked. "The dinner," I said, "It's ruined!" And I actually did cry. "Don't worry," G said, "I'll make something for us to eat."
I lay on the couch, feeling disappointed in myself, when a spectacular smell wafted in from the kitchen. My husband was actually cooking something! I was expecting ramen or a sandwich, but there he was, hunkered over the stove, with two pots bubbling away. "Can I help?" I asked, meekly. And it was then that I became my husband's assistant. I also learned that my husband had been faking an inability to cook for four years.
When we were done, about 15 minutes later, we sat down to a delicious saucy shrimp and rice dish. I have no idea what to call this dish except for Shrimp Suprise, since I was so suprised that G could cook so well. I'll have to burn dinner more often.
Ingredients:
10-15 medium sized shrimp, peeled an de-veined
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp chopped cilantro
1 tsp minced garlic
1 tsp minced ginger
1/4 cup white wine
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 cup canned diced tomato
3 large basil leaves
3 cups cooked rice or pasta
1. In a medium sized pot, place diced tomatoes over medium heat. Allow to soften and reduce.
2. In another medium sized pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the shrimp, ginger, garlic, and cilantro. Cook until the shrimp are nearly done (about 3 minutes).
3. Deglaze with the white wine.
4. Add the cooked shrimp along with the remaining ingredients to the reduced tomatoes. Taste, and adjust for seasoning.
5. Serve with rice or pasta.
[shrimp]
[recipe]
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Friday, November 25, 2005
Thanksgving for the thankless
Being in a strange city on a National Holiday makes you feel ever more like an alien. Without gas to power the stove in our new house, and fearing the result of room service at the hotel, Ghassan and I drive the lonely streets of Torrance searching for a meal.
We are rejected at the door of Marie Callander's after arriving minutes before the last seating. Dejected, we venture furthur away from the hotel. One neon sign flashes in the distance. We follow the talisman, curving left and right, and ending at "Chinese Sea Food Restaurant". With hesitation, we enter.
A petite woman guides us to a booth near the door and hands us worn leather-bound menus. We opt for the set menu featuring soup, fried spring rolls, rice and choice of a main course. Within minutes, we have hot, dark tea to sip on and a soup mascarading as Hot and Sour arrives. The soup is missing any semblence of heat, relying on the dishwater the cook must have used for a base for flavour. After two sips, the soup is set aside.
Crisp spring rolls arrive next, accompanied by a sweet apple sauce and mustard so hot it might actually burn right through the roof of your mouth into your nose. But the rolls mimic the soup in their (lack of) flavour.
Thankfully the server arrives with something edible next. At least, it was edible for me... my husband, a Muslim, delined on eating the pork fried rice. I made quite a scene out of enjoying the first tasty dish that night, humming over the garlicliky rice, moist pork and bright green peas. He stared of in distance, trying to ignore me. A waiter holding a huge whole fried fish paused for a second at our table, just long enough to drop off Almond Chicken and Beef with Green Peppers.
We heap the saucy meat over our rice, season with soy sauce, and dig in. The beef is thinly sliced and chewy, with a thick gelantenous sauce enrobing it. It is passable, only slightly better than your typical shopping-mall Chinese food. Under-cooked green peppers add a crisp contrast to the chewy beef.
I try the Almond Chicken next. At least the name is not misleading- it is merely chicken and almonds. Some spice, or any addition of flavour would be welcome here. Still, the hole in our stomachs begs to be filled and we make a brave attempt to finish the meal.
After consuming nearly half of the huge portions given to us, we sit back and ponder our fortunes. "Unless we change direction we are likely to end up where we are going." Well, there is no way to dispute this fact. My husbands' fortune is more appropriate: "There is absolutely no substitue for a genuine lack of preparation." What an apt description of this, our first American Thanksgiving.
We are rejected at the door of Marie Callander's after arriving minutes before the last seating. Dejected, we venture furthur away from the hotel. One neon sign flashes in the distance. We follow the talisman, curving left and right, and ending at "Chinese Sea Food Restaurant". With hesitation, we enter.
A petite woman guides us to a booth near the door and hands us worn leather-bound menus. We opt for the set menu featuring soup, fried spring rolls, rice and choice of a main course. Within minutes, we have hot, dark tea to sip on and a soup mascarading as Hot and Sour arrives. The soup is missing any semblence of heat, relying on the dishwater the cook must have used for a base for flavour. After two sips, the soup is set aside.
Crisp spring rolls arrive next, accompanied by a sweet apple sauce and mustard so hot it might actually burn right through the roof of your mouth into your nose. But the rolls mimic the soup in their (lack of) flavour.
Thankfully the server arrives with something edible next. At least, it was edible for me... my husband, a Muslim, delined on eating the pork fried rice. I made quite a scene out of enjoying the first tasty dish that night, humming over the garlicliky rice, moist pork and bright green peas. He stared of in distance, trying to ignore me. A waiter holding a huge whole fried fish paused for a second at our table, just long enough to drop off Almond Chicken and Beef with Green Peppers.
We heap the saucy meat over our rice, season with soy sauce, and dig in. The beef is thinly sliced and chewy, with a thick gelantenous sauce enrobing it. It is passable, only slightly better than your typical shopping-mall Chinese food. Under-cooked green peppers add a crisp contrast to the chewy beef.
I try the Almond Chicken next. At least the name is not misleading- it is merely chicken and almonds. Some spice, or any addition of flavour would be welcome here. Still, the hole in our stomachs begs to be filled and we make a brave attempt to finish the meal.
After consuming nearly half of the huge portions given to us, we sit back and ponder our fortunes. "Unless we change direction we are likely to end up where we are going." Well, there is no way to dispute this fact. My husbands' fortune is more appropriate: "There is absolutely no substitue for a genuine lack of preparation." What an apt description of this, our first American Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Buffet World
Hello, and welcome. Hang up your keys.
This is your home! The land of the free. More buffets than the eyes can see!
For one low price we'll hand you a plate
Take as long as you like, we'll stay open late.
Start with the soup, it's just delish.
I will make sure, not one dish will you miss.
Salad? Walk right past that green,
Why are you here? Not to stay lean.
Pasta is next. lots of cheese please
More than one spoon! Don't be a tease.
Walk right ahead to the meat carver
Finding space on the plate is getting much harder!
Pass me the bicuits with lots of sweet butter
I said biscuits, not rolls, by chance did I stutter?
Go ahead for round two, and loosen your jeans
The first time around you missed pork and beans!
Now for the sweet stuff, check out the selection
Take a sample of each and every confection
Cake, pastry, fruit and ice cream
Lick your plate until it is clean
Extra dessert? Here is your spoon.
You stomach will grow as big as the moon.
Order a coffee to finish the meal
You pour in the sugar and cream with zeal
The check has arrived, so cough up the dough
$10.99?!!! The price is so low!
Here are your keys, here is your coat
There is your car, as big as a boat
Off you go home to watch your telly
And ponder the growing size of your belly.
[buffet]
[poem]
This is your home! The land of the free. More buffets than the eyes can see!
For one low price we'll hand you a plate
Take as long as you like, we'll stay open late.
Start with the soup, it's just delish.
I will make sure, not one dish will you miss.
Salad? Walk right past that green,
Why are you here? Not to stay lean.
Pasta is next. lots of cheese please
More than one spoon! Don't be a tease.
Walk right ahead to the meat carver
Finding space on the plate is getting much harder!
Pass me the bicuits with lots of sweet butter
I said biscuits, not rolls, by chance did I stutter?
Go ahead for round two, and loosen your jeans
The first time around you missed pork and beans!
Now for the sweet stuff, check out the selection
Take a sample of each and every confection
Cake, pastry, fruit and ice cream
Lick your plate until it is clean
Extra dessert? Here is your spoon.
You stomach will grow as big as the moon.
Order a coffee to finish the meal
You pour in the sugar and cream with zeal
The check has arrived, so cough up the dough
$10.99?!!! The price is so low!
Here are your keys, here is your coat
There is your car, as big as a boat
Off you go home to watch your telly
And ponder the growing size of your belly.
[buffet]
[poem]
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Kettle Corn
This sweet and salty corn is super-addictive and kids love it. It's a recreation of old-style popped corn from carnivals, fairs, and beach boardwalks.
Ingrediants
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tbsp clarified butter
1/2 cup popping corn
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1) Heat a stock pot with tight fitting lid over medium-high heat.
2) Add oil and butter and heat until quite hot, about 2 minutes.
3) Stir in sugar and mix together well with a long spoon until sugar is incorporated.
4) Stir in the corn. Heat, stirring ocassionally until the corn begins to pop.
5) Place the lid on tightly, and grab the pot by its two side handles. Shake the pot back and forth on the burner, continously. It is very important to keep the pot moving back and forth, to prevent direct heat on the kernels.
6) Once the popping slows, remove from the heat.
7) Sprinkle with salt and stir well.
[popcorn]
[recipe]
Ingrediants
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tbsp clarified butter
1/2 cup popping corn
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1) Heat a stock pot with tight fitting lid over medium-high heat.
2) Add oil and butter and heat until quite hot, about 2 minutes.
3) Stir in sugar and mix together well with a long spoon until sugar is incorporated.
4) Stir in the corn. Heat, stirring ocassionally until the corn begins to pop.
5) Place the lid on tightly, and grab the pot by its two side handles. Shake the pot back and forth on the burner, continously. It is very important to keep the pot moving back and forth, to prevent direct heat on the kernels.
6) Once the popping slows, remove from the heat.
7) Sprinkle with salt and stir well.
[popcorn]
[recipe]
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Yellow Thai Curry
Ingredients:
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tbsp yellow curry paste
1/2 cup diced red onion
1/2 tbsp minced garlic
1 tbsp grated fresh ginger root
1/2 tbsp minced lemongrass
4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, sliced
2 cups chicken stock
1 can coconut milk
1 cup yams, peeled and chopped into large chunks
2 lime leaves
1 tbsp lime juice
1 tsp fish sauce
1 tbsp mild soy sauce (Thai preferable)
1 tbsp peanut butter
1 tsp sugar
1 or 2 bird's eye chillies (optional)
1) Heat oil in a medium-sized pot over medium-high heat.
2) Saute curry paste and onion together, until onions are beginning to get soft ( about 2 minutes). Add garlic, ginger, lemongrass, and sliced chicken. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken begins to colour (another 3 minutes).
3) Add all remaining ingredients to the pot, stir to combine, and bring to the boiling point. Reduce heat to medium low, and allow to simmer for 30-45 minutes.
4) Adjust seasoning.
5) Serve hot over rice, with a wedge of lime on the side.
Notes:
Lemongrass can be found at Chinese supermarkets. To prepare lemongrass, first bruise the lower 3 inches of the stalk by smashing it with the broad side of your sturdy kitchen knife. Then carefully, but with force, slice into pieces. The chop away, or blend in a spice mill. Remember that only the purplish part inside the bottom 2 or 3 inches contains any flavour. So don't waste your time with rest, unless you instead to make stock! Or, you do what I do, and travel over to the freezer section of the supermarket and pick up a little plastic container of pre-minced lemongrass.
Thai soy sauce has a lighter flavour and is less salty than it Chinese or Japanese counterparts. The brand I usually buy is called "Golden Mountain" and it is also a terrific marinade for beef or chicken.
If you cannot find lime leaves (check the freezer section!) then 1 tbsp of lime zest is perfectly good alternative.
[Thai food]
[curry]
[recipe]
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tbsp yellow curry paste
1/2 cup diced red onion
1/2 tbsp minced garlic
1 tbsp grated fresh ginger root
1/2 tbsp minced lemongrass
4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, sliced
2 cups chicken stock
1 can coconut milk
1 cup yams, peeled and chopped into large chunks
2 lime leaves
1 tbsp lime juice
1 tsp fish sauce
1 tbsp mild soy sauce (Thai preferable)
1 tbsp peanut butter
1 tsp sugar
1 or 2 bird's eye chillies (optional)
1) Heat oil in a medium-sized pot over medium-high heat.
2) Saute curry paste and onion together, until onions are beginning to get soft ( about 2 minutes). Add garlic, ginger, lemongrass, and sliced chicken. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken begins to colour (another 3 minutes).
3) Add all remaining ingredients to the pot, stir to combine, and bring to the boiling point. Reduce heat to medium low, and allow to simmer for 30-45 minutes.
4) Adjust seasoning.
5) Serve hot over rice, with a wedge of lime on the side.
Notes:
Lemongrass can be found at Chinese supermarkets. To prepare lemongrass, first bruise the lower 3 inches of the stalk by smashing it with the broad side of your sturdy kitchen knife. Then carefully, but with force, slice into pieces. The chop away, or blend in a spice mill. Remember that only the purplish part inside the bottom 2 or 3 inches contains any flavour. So don't waste your time with rest, unless you instead to make stock! Or, you do what I do, and travel over to the freezer section of the supermarket and pick up a little plastic container of pre-minced lemongrass.
Thai soy sauce has a lighter flavour and is less salty than it Chinese or Japanese counterparts. The brand I usually buy is called "Golden Mountain" and it is also a terrific marinade for beef or chicken.
If you cannot find lime leaves (check the freezer section!) then 1 tbsp of lime zest is perfectly good alternative.
[Thai food]
[curry]
[recipe]
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Monsoon Fried Chicken
This Chicken is so tasty, it is one my most requested dishes. It is crisp, sweet and salty- perfect on a bun or on top of a salad.
ingredients:
6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1/3 cup oyster sauce
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tbsp garlic powder
1) Pour oyster sauce over top of chicken and allow to marinate for 5-10 minutes.
2) Mix together flour and garlic powder in a large bowl.
3) thoroughly coat chicken in flour, pressing the chicken firmly into the flour. Transfer chicken to a plate. Set aside for at least 10 minutes to give the flour a chance to seal around the chicken.
4) Heat a pot of oil two inches deep on the stove (be careful!), or turn on your deep-fryer. Heat the oil to approximately 350'.
5) carefully place chicken into hot oil, cooking two at a time. Turn after 4 minutes, then cook additional 4 minutes, until brown and crisp.
6) Transfer cooked chicken to a plate lined with paper towels.
[fried chicken]
[recipe]
ingredients:
6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1/3 cup oyster sauce
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tbsp garlic powder
1) Pour oyster sauce over top of chicken and allow to marinate for 5-10 minutes.
2) Mix together flour and garlic powder in a large bowl.
3) thoroughly coat chicken in flour, pressing the chicken firmly into the flour. Transfer chicken to a plate. Set aside for at least 10 minutes to give the flour a chance to seal around the chicken.
4) Heat a pot of oil two inches deep on the stove (be careful!), or turn on your deep-fryer. Heat the oil to approximately 350'.
5) carefully place chicken into hot oil, cooking two at a time. Turn after 4 minutes, then cook additional 4 minutes, until brown and crisp.
6) Transfer cooked chicken to a plate lined with paper towels.
[fried chicken]
[recipe]
Monday, October 31, 2005
Dim Sum (Review)
There was a chill in the air last night- the wind hit me in the face like a cold slap. I blew into my mitted hands to warm them as I waited for my good friend Paul and the pre-determined pick up point. That's me, over there, in the 1989 white Pontiac Sunfire. Paul strode out of the building, approached the car, gripped the handle, and he was in. We were off in a flash- dodging pedestrians, weaving in and out of traffic. Time was of the essence. I was starving.
We were on our way up the highway, to a place few city dwellers venture- north of highway 7. Paul was navigating- right, right, left and we had arrived. "Over there- in the corner- that's where we're going." He was pointing at the neon sign, written in Chinese. "Ding Tai Fung"- probably means Happy dumpling restaurant. I parked. We pulled our jackets up to our ears and ran inside.
The thing I love the most about Toronto is the quality ethnic food. I know where to got to get the best Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Korean or Middle Eastern food ( the last one is 23 Orangewood Cres. but it's by invitation only!). I know when I am the only white person in the room, that I'm in for an authentic meal. We share a menu, maarking our selections by number on a piece of paper.
The reason we are here is for the pork dumplings. My husband is shaking his head right now. They arrive- six little steaming dumplings in a bamboo basket. We each grab one, dip into sweet vinegar, and pop them whole into our mouths.
The little packet explodes in my mouth, filling it with hot, savory soup. The cilantro makes my head spin. It's salty, tangy sweet and juicy all at the same time. Our next item arrives: Green onion pancakes. Crisp on the outside with a satisfying chewyness. However, I am disappointed with the "Sticky rice dumplings" that arrive next, as they are filling with regular short-grain rice, not the distinct chewy rice native to Thailand which is known as sticky rice. Instead, this is leftover plain white rice, stir-fried to a sticky texture. This is a huge blow to me, as sticky rice is a personal favorite, so I self-medicate with another pork dumpling. Every time one of these sweet little packages explodes in my mouth, I can't stop a smile from creeping up my cheeks.
Our last dish is a soup to share, with stewed beef, vermicelli noodles and tofu. We ordered a crispy Chinese donut to dip in the broth. The stock is thick and dark, with a lingering cinnamon flavour. The beef is tender from just enough cooking and the noodles are perfectly soft without being mushy. However, it just doesn't turn my crank. The promised spicyness is missing, and the garnish of minced pickles does nothing to enhance the soup. I am unimpressed, and order another basket of dumplings.
Finally, after losing count of the baskets that have come and gone from our table, Paul and I lean back and contemplate dessert. After having to eat the whole huge bowl of soup himself, Paul removes himself from the discussion and I order one mango pudding for myself. The dessert consists of a gelatinous milky substance (which I'm sure would bounce if given the opportunity) and a sweet mango sauce. They've got this dessert backward: it should be a firm, mango jelly with a creamy sauce. The milky jelly they served isn't a complement to the mango puree.
I lean back- satisfied for the moment. It was worth the drive to Acton, or whereever I am, just for the succulent pork dumplings. However, this restaurant needs more than one good dish if it expects to make a name for itself. Until then, it can only be "Happy Dumpling Restaurant".
We were on our way up the highway, to a place few city dwellers venture- north of highway 7. Paul was navigating- right, right, left and we had arrived. "Over there- in the corner- that's where we're going." He was pointing at the neon sign, written in Chinese. "Ding Tai Fung"- probably means Happy dumpling restaurant. I parked. We pulled our jackets up to our ears and ran inside.
The thing I love the most about Toronto is the quality ethnic food. I know where to got to get the best Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Korean or Middle Eastern food ( the last one is 23 Orangewood Cres. but it's by invitation only!). I know when I am the only white person in the room, that I'm in for an authentic meal. We share a menu, maarking our selections by number on a piece of paper.
The reason we are here is for the pork dumplings. My husband is shaking his head right now. They arrive- six little steaming dumplings in a bamboo basket. We each grab one, dip into sweet vinegar, and pop them whole into our mouths.
The little packet explodes in my mouth, filling it with hot, savory soup. The cilantro makes my head spin. It's salty, tangy sweet and juicy all at the same time. Our next item arrives: Green onion pancakes. Crisp on the outside with a satisfying chewyness. However, I am disappointed with the "Sticky rice dumplings" that arrive next, as they are filling with regular short-grain rice, not the distinct chewy rice native to Thailand which is known as sticky rice. Instead, this is leftover plain white rice, stir-fried to a sticky texture. This is a huge blow to me, as sticky rice is a personal favorite, so I self-medicate with another pork dumpling. Every time one of these sweet little packages explodes in my mouth, I can't stop a smile from creeping up my cheeks.
Our last dish is a soup to share, with stewed beef, vermicelli noodles and tofu. We ordered a crispy Chinese donut to dip in the broth. The stock is thick and dark, with a lingering cinnamon flavour. The beef is tender from just enough cooking and the noodles are perfectly soft without being mushy. However, it just doesn't turn my crank. The promised spicyness is missing, and the garnish of minced pickles does nothing to enhance the soup. I am unimpressed, and order another basket of dumplings.
Finally, after losing count of the baskets that have come and gone from our table, Paul and I lean back and contemplate dessert. After having to eat the whole huge bowl of soup himself, Paul removes himself from the discussion and I order one mango pudding for myself. The dessert consists of a gelatinous milky substance (which I'm sure would bounce if given the opportunity) and a sweet mango sauce. They've got this dessert backward: it should be a firm, mango jelly with a creamy sauce. The milky jelly they served isn't a complement to the mango puree.
I lean back- satisfied for the moment. It was worth the drive to Acton, or whereever I am, just for the succulent pork dumplings. However, this restaurant needs more than one good dish if it expects to make a name for itself. Until then, it can only be "Happy Dumpling Restaurant".
going to california
Well, finally it is beginning to feel real: we are moving to Los Angeles. Moving day is about fifteen days from now. The packing has begun; I'm finding stuff I forgot I had! And I had to downsize all my shoes... I'm giving away twenty or thirty pairs. I know, it sounds crazy... but just think about all those new shoes I can buy in LA!
And I am dying to get a "new" hand-me-down computer so I can get some pictures up on this thing. It is really supposed to be about food, but right now I have no time to think about anythng other than moving.
Okay, I'll make a post about the dim sum restaurant I went to last night.
And I am dying to get a "new" hand-me-down computer so I can get some pictures up on this thing. It is really supposed to be about food, but right now I have no time to think about anythng other than moving.
Okay, I'll make a post about the dim sum restaurant I went to last night.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
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