Entries Tagged as 'In'

Chai

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Sometime over the last ten months, I unintentionally acquired the right components to make chai at home. This, while rediscovering a long-lost affection for it after ordering wrong at a coffee shop in town and wanting to make amends (….to the chai gods? Perhaps). To near irrational measures, I’ve also still been thinking about the chai butternut squash soup we had for Christmas. Then, this week, a big and dusty sweet pumpkin was delivered by mail. Now how’s that for some serendipity? Point is, things usually come easier on their own.

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Chai
1 1/2 cups water
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
1 cinnamon stick
1 star anise
6 whole cloves
4  cardamom pods
6 black peppercorns
2 bay leaves
2 1/2 tablespoons raw sugar
2 cups whole milk
2 tablespoons loose leaf black tea

Add water and spices to a pot and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down and let simmer, covered, for 12 minutes. Then add milk and sugar and bring back up to a simmer. Remove from heat and add loose leaf black tea. Cover and allow to steep for a couple of minutes. Strain into tea cups.

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Chai Pumpkin Soup
*this is not Millie’s exact recipe, but it’s inspired by hers. We added a chai tea bag, heavy cream, and extra dried cinnamon, ginger, and cloves to that version at the end, which obviously turned out great, and, in comparison to the recipe ahead, was faster and less involved. But since I already had leftover chai from the recipe above, and a danhobak (or sweet pumpkin) that wasn’t getting any younger, I thought I’d try a different approach. And now I’m thinking about two chai squash soups. Life could be worse.

1 danhobak (also known as kabocha squash)
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt
1 garlic clove, minced
1 white onion, chopped
2 cups water
1 cup chai (from recipe above)

Cut danhobak in half and scoop out seeds. Then cut into wedges. Whisk olive oil with allspice, cinnamon, cloves, salt, and garlic. Pour over squash and rub to coat evenly. Roast for 30-40 minutes at 400 degrees F, turning halfway through, until squash is forkable (that is to say, easily pierced with a fork). Meanwhile, heat enough oil in a large pot to saute the onion until wilted and translucent. Scoop squash flesh from the skin and add it to the pot with onions. Add water. Bring to a simmer and stir, adding salt to taste. Remove from heat to let cool slightly, then blitz until smooth with a blender or food processor. Add back to the pot and pour in the chai. Turn on the heat and bring back to a simmer. Ladle into bowls and sprinkle with chopped green onion and dried red pepper flake.

Oatmeal

Monday, January 27, 2014

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Now that we’re well into January, you’re probably like resolutions whaaaat??! I hear you. I don’t make them, not really, but I do welcome the opportunity to try new things in the name of a new year.

This time, it was a whole foods detox. No caffeine, alcohol, meat, dairy, wheat, sugar, white rice, kimchi, soy, or myentireregulardiet, in other words, for two weeks. I ate a lot of nuts, vegetables, fruit, brown rice, and quinoa, and felt fantastic from the second day forth. Of course, a diet so strict kept me at home much of the time, and by the second week I missed the part about food that I love the most–sharing it. Still, those two weeks taught me more about the way I eat and satisfy cravings than I’ve ever known. And more than once, oatmeal saved the day.

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Oatmeal is frigging wonderful, do you agree? Besides cooking it, I’ve used it as a facial mask and exfoliant, and a looong time ago my grandma gave me a warm oatmeal bath when I had the chicken pox. A bowl of stovetop oats is a blank canvas for all kinds of delicious add-ins, both savory and sweet. (Actually, I hadn’t thought of savory oatmeal until last week when my friend Ji Sun mentioned she likes to add a bit of kimchi to hers–brilliant). Hopefully you will not now associate oatmeal with chicken pox, and instead will be able to imagine all kinds of tasty possibilities for your bowl. A couple of ideas to get you started:

Oatmeal with cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, coconut oil, and cashew milk
Oatmeal with kiwi, pineapple, and coconut milk
Oatmeal with prunes, orange, and cloves
Oatmeal with tahini, maple syrup, miso, Asian pear, and toasted almonds
Oatmeal with tomato, avocado, hummus, and nuts

Have an excellent week. xo

savory oatmeal

 

 

 

Vanilla Maple Cashew Milk

Sunday, January 12, 2014

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My memories of my mom are sparse, but they’re vivid. I remember that she loved black licorice, something likely born out of being the baby of three girls and learning to adore the leftover things, black jelly beans among them. I remember that she always put on Lubriderm lotion after taking a bath, but I have no recollection of what kind of perfume she wore, if at all. Her legs always felt prickly if I rubbed my hand in one directly, smooth if I reversed, and as a kid, I was pretty confused by this. If John and I fought, she’d yell, make us sit in the bedroom we shared until she cooled off, then come in and say she was sorry for yelling and that she loved us. Besides that, I can remember exactly two occasions when she got upset. The first time was when I brought home a boy in first grade without giving her a warning. She was taking an afternoon bubble bath when we bounced through the front door, unannounced (surprise!). This boy was the new kid at school and kind of a bully, and he decided pretty quickly that I was the perfect target. I don’t remember what he said or did, but I remember feeling anxious in the mornings about going to school and seeing him and not liking that feeling, and knowing that I had to do something to fix it myself. The way to win him over, I determined, was to invite him back to our apartment to listen to the latest Beach Boys album, Still Cruisin. This was 1989. And it worked.

The other time was when our neighbor Rebecca, a girl my age, came over and ate all the cashews from the canister of Planters mixed nuts. My mom loved cashews, and so do I.

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Vanilla Maple Cashew Milk
1 1/2 cups raw cashews
*Soak cashews in water overnight.
4 cups filtered water
1 vanilla pod, seeds scraped
*Empty vanilla pods will make vanilla extract, vanilla sugar, or vanilla salt!
pinch cinnamon
pinch nutmeg
maple syrup

Drain and rinse cashews. Add them to a blender with water. Blend until smooth. Add vanilla seeds, cinnamon, nutmeg, and pulse until fully incorporated. Strain with a fine mesh sieve, cheesecloth, coffee filter, or a few layers of paper towels. Sweeten to taste with maple syrup. Can be stored in an airtight container in the fridge for four days, five days tops. After that, things’ll start to get funky.

CSA in Korea

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Two Septembers ago, I went on a Slow Food tour in Namyangju, the largest organic farming district in South Korea. At the time, there weren’t any CSA options available in Korea, but a lot of people on that tour vocalized interest. Though I’d love to say I’ve made valiant effort to seek out food that’s been grown responsibly since moving here, the truth is that I’ve let go. I get fruits and vegetables from the woman who sells them across the street, but for all I know, they could be coming from the same supplier that delivers to the bigger groceries across the city. The demand for organic food in Seoul is still pretty low, but interest is steadily growing. We’re about to have the opportunity to be part of a community that supports responsible farming and aims to foster a relationship between farmers and consumers, where both parties share in the risks and rewards of growing and eating clean food. This is the heart of CSA.

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In late January, WWOOF Korea will launch the country’s first Community Supported Agriculture initiative, making it possible to purchase fair, organic products from affiliated farms. As part of their launch, they sent sample boxes to a group of cooks for review and asked us each to come up with a recipe using its contents. How cool is that?

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With CSA, you get exactly what’s grown locally, which means the stuff in your box is always seasonal, the distance it travels minimal. You order a whole box, but not any specific products. There are opportunities to request specific fruits and vegetables at monthly CSA meetings or by visiting the farm in person, whereby the requests are taken into account for the following season. For me, the surprise of not knowing exactly what’ll arrive, the convenience of doorstep delivery and the assurance that farmers are receiving fair prices and growing food free of chemical pesticides all outweigh the alternative of selecting exactly what I want at the grocery store. My good friend Habiba and I teamed up to cook our way through one of these taster boxes, and had a blast while doing it.

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In our box, there were potatoes, apples, garlic, onions, carrots, oyster mushrooms, and lettuce, all wrapped so that we could stick them straight in the fridge if we wanted to. I liked the variety–all very versatile items, but more seasonal and regional fruits and vegetables would have been even better (like pears, persimmons, different kinds of greens and herbs, even beans–things special to Korea).

There were six eggs, two loaves of bread, petite loaves of yuja poundcake, coleslaw, and tofu chips. Since both of us were getting ready to leave for separate vacations, we had to use everything in our recipes or it would have spoiled. And we did. Everything except the coleslaw, tofu chips, and poundcake, that is, which were well gone before the day was over.

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While I got to work on the apples and onions for chutney, Habiba stuck the oil-slicked mushrooms in the oven to roast, but not before showering them with salt and cracked pepper. Once they’d browned, she blitzed them with some roasted garlic, doenjang and olive oil until the paste was as smooth as a pâté. And then! We stuck in the last heel of walnut potato bread to toast for breadcrumbs that we’d add to the latkes.

We quickly sautéed all the salad greens from the box in a bit of hot oil and finished them with a squirt of lemon. We set those aside and poached two eggs while toasting sliced bread in the broiler. When our bread was nice and warm, we slathered on a layer of mushroom pâté, curled around leaves of sautéed lettuce next, set a poached egg over that, and grated parmesan cheese and cracked pepper over it all.

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Habiba shaved the carrots and potatoes for the latkes and mixed in a couple of eggs, breadcrumbs, and salt and pepper. Then she fried them. We stacked trios of warm latkes under mounds of spiced chutney. And we ate.

(Hop over to Habiba’s most inspiring site for the latkes and mushroom pâté recipes!)

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For more information about WWOOF CSA Korea, or to place an order for your own box or weekly/monthly share, contact wwoofcsa@wwoofsca.com or visit www.wwoofcsa.com.

Apple and Onion Chutney
5 apples
1 onion
1 tablespoon pickling spice (or mix of peppercorns, mustard seeds, whole cloves, fennel seeds, and cinnamon stick)
1 cup apple cider vinegar
juice squeezed from one orange or 2-3 tangerines
handful of dried cranberries
1/4 cup raw sugar
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1/2 cup water or more

Add all ingredients to a heavy bottomed pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer. Allow to simmer uncovered for about an hour, while stirring occasionally, until apples have broken apart and gone past the point of soft. Add additional water in small amounts if the liquid evaporates at any point before the chutney is finished. Cool before storing in the fridge, tightly covered, for up to two weeks.

Greens, egg, and mushroom garlic pâté on toast
1 thick slice of bread, toasted
thick spread of garlic mushroom pâté (recipe here)
greens sautéed quickly with lemon and olive oil
1 poached egg

Layer, in the order above, and sprinkle with grated parmesan and cracked black pepper.

*It’s not totally clear to me if a pureed spread of vegetables can rightly be called a pâté, since pâté is defined as a “mixture of cooked ground meat and fat minced into a spreadable paste,” or so says Wikipedia. But if you consider the real thing, and its opposing qualities of minimal aesthetic appeal and total bliss on the tongue, or the unconditionally smooth texture of a pâté made with, I don’t know, duck liver, and if a similar treatment of mushrooms and garlic can yield the same drab gray but silky, pillowy spread, I’m going to go with yes. Yes it can. The addition of doenjang, a fermented soybean paste used widely in Korean cuisine, probably toes the line, but the salty punch of acidity it added was totally worth the risk.

 

 

 

Homemade Sriracha

Sunday, December 29, 2013

How were your holidays? What did you do? I hope you were surrounded by people you love and like at the same time. Christmas brings a mix of emotions for me, as I would guess it does for many of you, too. Flo (my maternal grandma) was always a huge part of the holidays. She had an attic full of decor that she’d put up like a professional, and Christmas hasn’t quite been the same without her and her house. But the passing of old traditions leaves room for the new, and this year was great. I spent it in Hong Kong with my friends Jackie and Doug, their son, Gavin, and Jackie’s mother, Millie. Jackie and I have known each other as teenagers in Ohio, as adults in New York, and now, as adulter adults on this side of the planet. We went to the beach, cooked Christmas Eve dinner in under two hours, and battled holiday traffic for last-minute victuals. We played at least two dozen games of Heads Up after a lot of champagne. On Christmas Eve, Millie had a hankering for chai butternut squash soup, so we dug out Jackie’s immersion blender and made a big pot of it to drink out of tiny glasses with shards of fried sage. It is five days later, and now it’s me with the hankering for chai butternut squash soup. Someday I’ll put the recipe up with Millie’s permission, but today I want to tell you about something else. Homemade srirachaaaaaah, yeow!

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Why would you make a homemade condiment when you can buy it in a bottle? Well, if you’re asking, I probably can’t convince you. I would have the same retort regarding ketchup, and as my loyalty to Heinz runs deep, I will probably never attempt it at home. But this particular condiment makes an excellent gift (New Year’s? A January birthday? Belated holiday? Present for you from you?) and standing by the stove has become a way of staying warm in our cozy but underheated apartment. Also! The color. Just look at that color! Bright enough to inspire a new name for paint: Sriracha Red? Rooster Orange? Now, it’s been awhile since I’ve tasted bottled sriracha, so this endorsement comes without any current authority on the subject. But I have always had luck with recipes from Food52, and that’s where this version came from after Eda of Edamame Eats entered it in a Food52 contest for Best Chili Pepper Recipe. Eda’s rendition calls for palm sugar and red Fresno chilies, but I didn’t have either, so I used brown sugar and Korean red chilies with delicious success. This homemade condiment is a bullseye. Promise.

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Homemade Sriracha adapted from Food52 and Edamame-eats

1/2 pound fresh red chilies (in Korea, you can use the same thin long chilies that are dried and ground for gochugaru)
4 garlic cloves
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 cup distilled white vinegar
2 tablespoons brown sugar

Roughly chop chilies and combine them with garlic, sea salt, and white vinegar in a jar. Let sit overnight, or for the equivalent. According to the original recipe, this helps soften the spice of the peppers. Don’t worry, heat lovers, the sauce has plenty of it even after the brine. Put the mixture in a saucepan with the sugar, and heat to boiling. Then reduce the heat and simmer for five minutes. Set aside and allow to cool to room temperature. Next, blend in batches until smooth. Finally, pour blended mixture in a sieve and push sauce through to catch all the skins and bits of seed. You’ll be left with a gorgeous and silky, fire-hued, vinegary hot sauce that is the perfect cure to the peak of winter when everything feels a little too colorless and cold.