my snacks

i've gotten into the expensive habit of having afternoon snacks. while i have been known to get sudden "pregnant woman" cravings (one time, i wanted to eat an entire pie from the middle with a spoon), i usually don't have much of a sweet tooth. i am, however, a sucker for carbs in all their glorious forms.

lately, i've been popping into bakeries between running errands. i figure my body deserves a little something to keep up its energy. if i'm willing to make the 10 block trek, my dessert dealer of choice is silver moon bakery. their decor is delightful, their baked goods are consistently tasty (though a little overpriced), and the staff is cheerful (though they could stand to give you a few minutes to decide between the 724809278348 choices available). i can still remember the taste of the juicy raspberry tart i had there last year. i can't wait for fresh fruit to be in season again.

unfortunately, the lemon tart (4.50?) i had there some time ago was tough and unpleasant. the crust was very hard and the plastic fork they gave me could barely pierce the armor-like shell. lemon curd is difficult to get right and this one was too eggy and too acidic, making for an unsavory sensation in your mouth. even the blackberry was shockingly sour:



last saturday was saint patrick's day, and i was in the grand central area, distributing brochures for columbia japan society's matsuri. i traveled further north and east, into the "turtle bay" neighborhood. it was there that i was bombarded by masses of out-of-towners, decked in green and laden with beads, stupid hats, and obnoxious novelty sunglasses. they were everywhere: pouring out of taxis, tripping over the piled up snow, screaming from bar balconies. manhattan had turned into a big drunken high school sleepover and everyone was invited.

during my wanderings, i found buttercup bake shop, magnolia bakery's arch-rival. now i really don't get why specialty cupcakes have become such a big deal, but i do admire their clever marketing strategy. it's brilliant, creating an adult/luxury version of happy childhood treats that they can sell at $24 per dozen.

i chose to bypass the rows of cupcakes slathered with green, paint-like frosting and went for a slice of red velvet cake (another inexplicably widespread cake fad):



my slice (4.95) was ridiculously large since it was left over from the previous cake rather than cut from the one on display. my first bite was nondescript, but as i chewed, i found the cake to be very moist and rich, with a lightly sweetened (though otherwise heavy) cream cheese icing. i was surprised that the cake did have a distinctive flavor of its own, a hint of dark cocoa against all that dense, buttery comfort.

the cake was good, but the massive slice was simply too much for one person to handle. i made it through maybe 2 of the 3 layers before i gave up and reluctantly tossed the rest. maybe i will go for a cupcake next time.

this past week, i've been frequenting the local french joint, le monde. moderately priced, but still out of the range of most collegiates, the bistro is known for classic, though unremarkable, french fare. however, after reading in our campus paper that the chef de cuisine used to be a champion patisserier, i was convinced i needed to sample all those gleaming confections in their pastry case.

on wednesday, i had an intense craving for macaroons. real macaroons, not those silly mounds of coconut that come in cans during passover. i couldn't think of anywhere around campus that would have them and i wasn't too keen on making a special trip all the way to columbus circle just for a bag of bouchon's. i walked into le monde and sure enough, they had a few pastel-colored macaroons on display, next to a row of similarly pastel éclairs.

i bought one of every flavor: strawberry, vanilla, pistachio, chocolate and lemon (not pictured). they were small, not quite 2 inches in diameter and sold six for $5. the adorable korean girl behind the counter was really nice and threw in an extra macaroon for me.



the strawberry and pistachio ones were my favorites. the lemon one was kinda weird. i may try to make my own sometime though they're quite difficult to master. i've also not had a good relationship with egg whites in my past. heavy cream and i get along fine, but eggs are rather tricky. i learned that the hard way when i was trying to make madelines and they came out with hard little clumps of flour baked in.

yesterday, i made another le monde trip to tide me over between proper meals. the weather was nice so i didn't wanna coop up in the library but it was also too cold out to wander ‘round the city. thus, i gathered my books and had myself a little snack & study session at le monde. the hostess was reluctant to give me one of the prized window tables, but couldn't really refuse me as it was only 4 pm. i ordered a pain chocolat (3) and cafe au lait (3.50) and started reading. service was kinda off since my waiter didn't bring any water until asked and never bothered to remove the menus. he also asked if i wanted any sugar even though it was already at the table.



i finished the croissant in just a few bites (flakey, buttery, but cold and a little dense). several pages later, i was in need of more sustenance, so i foolishly ordered their gigantic napoleon (5):



the marbled icing was a little on the sweet side (i prefer my treats very faintly sweet). the pastry layers were a little tough and i struggled to cut them with my fork, but that's to be expected of a mille feuille that isn't assembled to order. the pastry cream was heavenly: light yet custardy, gently sweetened, and not too eggy. i couldn’t finish the whole thing right then, but now i crave more. i was surprised at how big this thing was, considering the rest of le monde's pastries came straight from munchkin land: baby fruit tarts, mini-éclairs, not even the madelines were full-sized.

...and then later that evening, i made gougères for the first time! (yes, i'm tacking the photo onto this post cause i can't be bothered to do a write up for it)

baking. a japanese tradition.

over spring break, i spent my days a-cookin’. at the end of the tragically short week, i decided to make something very labor/time-intensive. i baked an pan. no, that wasn't a typo. an pan (あんぱん) is a very popular asian bread that is filled with sweet azuki bean jam. also, it is what this guy's head is made of:


it being spring break and all, i went all-out hardcore and dug up a recipe off e-recipe.org. in JAPANESE. i then spent nearly an hour meticulously translating the 17-step recipe:



though the recipe wasn't quite as tedious as it looks, it provided way too much info about the basics of bread-making, which just aren't all that fascinating for someone who's baked before and wants to plow through the prep. still, practicing my rusty japanese was quite fun and i discovered interesting little tidbits like the characters for "bread flour" (強力粉) literally translate as "strong flour."

on that note, the recipe called for a little too much "strong flour" and really should've used a mix of regular and bread flours. the end product was a little too chewy and dense for a light snack-type bread.



not to go too much into the tedious recipe (which was further complicated by the metric measuring system), but the ingredients consisted simply of bread flour, sugar, salt, egg, dry yeast, warm water and butter. prep was pretty standard: mix, knead, 1st rising. de-gas, shape, 2nd rising. fill, shape, proof & bake.

the filling was something of my own concoction since i was too cheap to buy canned anko. i've also been told a few unnecessarily gruesome stories about the unsanitary conditions at anko factories, so that justified my purchasing of a $2 bag of beans rather than a $5 can of them in mashed, sugared form. my own version of anko took nearly 4 hours of boiling:



it was quite tasty and pleasantly sweet, but i foolishly decided to forgo the addition of any fats. later, i would discover that my attempt to be health-conscious resulted in a crumbly (rather than creamy) filling that just wasn't sweet enough (despite several tastings and countless heaping spoonfuls of sugar). i've now learned my lesson and will respect the full fat and sugar content of future pastry-making endeavors.



shaping and baking went pretty well. only 3 or so of my an pan buns leaked their fillings! ...out of 12. still, they're quite beautiful, non? a very lovely breakfast when toasted and served with a side of lightly sugared strawberries:

making pasta II

the january issue of bon appetit had a feature on the "top trends of 2006." they named gnudi as the “dish of the year”. gnudi, meaning nude, is most often described as a "naked ravioli." consisting of ricotta and flour held together by egg, it's as fluffy and cheesy as gnocchi could ever dream to be.

bon appetit's gnudi recipe was delightfully easy, but required a lot of wait time (maximize your time: prepare this while you’re busy with something else. i made it while baking an pan):

1) drain 1 cup fresh ricotta over paper towels for half an hour
2) beat 1 egg and mix with 1/3 cup pecorino romano, 1/2 tsp salt, and a bit of white pepper as you see fit (i used black)
3) mix in ricotta
4) sprinkle 3/4 cup flour and gently combine
5) cover & chill for 1 hour
6) roll 1 tsp of gnudi dough into a ball, toss with flour to coat and shape (i made mine to look like deceptively like gnocchi)
7) cover with plastic wrap until ready to cook



to cook, simply throw the gnudi in lots of boiling water seasoned with salt. the recipe said to boil it about 8 minutes, but i found that to be too long. pasta's ready once it floats. i think just 4 minutes does the trick. it's fully cooked through by then.

gnudi is pretty flavorful just on its own, so you don't need heavy sauces. still, it pairs just fine with a little canned marinara:



three days later (today), i cooked up the last bit of gnudi. having not gone grocery shopping for some time, i was at a loss for how to serve it. i wanted some protein, so i started frying some crumbled veggie burger. in another pan, i attempted to make a brown butter sauce. i melted a big pat of butter, waiting for it to stop bubbling and caramelize. unfortunately, i was hungry and didn't have the patience to let it brown properly. for flavoring, i added minced garlic, then some lemon juice to slow the cooking, and stirred in chopped parsley and basil to finish. finally, i tossed the gnudi and veggie burger in the butter to coat. it was very tasty and not at all greasy.

making pasta - a foray into italian cookin'

i've been on an italian stint lately. building up experience so i can cook italian food for M when i visit him in taipei. i don't know why, but when you're in an asian country for an extended period of time, you begin to seriously crave italian food. when i was in china this summer, i ached for a slice of thin crust. i pined over cannoli. in the bigger cities of asia, you can get fancy french food, some sort of hamburgers and fries, and ridiculous attempts at cheesecake, but you simply can't find any decent italian. the chinese serve pizza with carrots and corn for toppings.

last week, i made a trip to chinatown. mainly to pick up some wonton wrappers to substitute for ravioli dough, but also to stock up on cheap groceries (a bunch asparagus for only $2!). once i completed my chinatown run, i ventured into the adjacent little italy to see if i could find some fresh ricotta. i popped into a bakery to (1) ask the clerk about neighborhood cheeseries and (2) treat myself to a cannoli. at the counter was a heavyset man with a deep italian (gangster) accent.

i plopped down in their outdoor seating area, and the man took the table next to me. beguiled by my interest in soft italian cheese products, we got to a-talkin'. i told him about my quest for ravioli and he waxed on about his mother's unparalleled meatballs. i complained about the banality of life as an econ major and he talked about getting his undertaker's license and running an auto body shop (i kid you not). eventually, i found out he was in the neighborhood for a shoot. turns out the guy was an actor, taking an espresso break while waiting for the crew to finish setting up… to film the sopranos!

before we parted ways, i asked him for a restaurant recommendation. he pointed to il cortile at the end of the street. "it's pricey, but it's the best. just... the best" he said. walking down mulberry, i passed a whole slew of italian restaurants, each with a silly looking waiter (one guy was wearing a suit identical to the one in my cousin vinny). it's kind of sad how chinatown is slowly squeezing little italy off the island. i think a turf fight is in order. unfortunately, i’m torn over which side to offer my fists to. i’d do well for the italians as a double agent…

my ravioli involved a lot of cheating. rather than make my own pasta dough, i utilized pre-packaged wonton wrappers (as per recommended by epicurious.com recipes). and after reading through several recipes, i discovered that you can fill ravioli with just about anything. i went through my fridge and mixed together leftover mushroom ragu with a few spoonfuls of ricotta and finely chopped parsley.

i then assembled the oversized ravioli and sealed them carefully, taking care to squeeze out all the air bubbles (which causes fillings to burst during cooking). i kept them from drying out by covering them with a linen kitchen towel:



all the while, i simmered a mushroom broth of shitake with onions, infused with thyme, parsley, garlic and bay leaf on the stove. the shitake was a little too strong, so i cut the broth with more water and a little msg-laden veggie bouillon. the final product was decent, if not a little salty. it looked suspiciously like wonton soup:



later in the week, casey and i finished off the rest of the ravioli along with a side of asparagus with balsamic vinegar:



the ravioli was simply boiled in a large pot of water for about 3-4 minutes, drained, and topped with grated parmesano reggiano. the asparagus was steamed, then tossed with a small pat of butter, salt and pepper while hot. a nice, syrupy balsamic vinegar was served on the side.

the one about ME

first and foremost i'd like to notify everyone that i finally found and changed the settings so that you don't need a blogger account to comment. thus said, please comment on my poor little posts! i could really use the attention.

blogger isn't the best of blogging clients, but my techno-ineptitude is also to blame. how do i get my blog looking like those other, more established food blogs with all their impeccably categorized posts and ad-space? perhaps i should just keep my food thoughts humble and austere.



i write about food because, like all those millions of food enthusiasts out there, i am keenly passionate about food. food is special to me, even if i am not special to it. the fact that there are so many food bloggers and foodies in the world is a little bit very intimidating. also, as someone who was an only child for 13 years of her life, my pettiness makes me jealous of all those people out there who share my very personal hobby. fooding is a fiercely competitive sport, and that’s without resorting to kitchen stadium:


nevertheless, food is great fun. eating it, cooking it, buying it. everything about it is a joyful experience. it makes a great gift, is at the center of every great date (my best date with M involved an unforgettable apple crisp), and is much more than the comfort of consumption. it's something that everyone can share, something that everyone can talk about. in fact, food is a topic that never fails to get a conversation roaring. i have never met a person who doesn't have something to say about food. i'm also highly suspect of people who say they don't have an interest in food (there simply must be something terribly wrong with them).

it's taken me quite some time to realize my passion for food.



>> and now, onto the whiny sob story:
growing up, my chinese parents cooked chinese food and only chinese food. on those few occasions when we went out to eat... chinese food (to this very day!).

my father is the type who likes to go to the same damn restaurant and order the same damn thing for fear of wasting his money on something that he may not like. he is a big fan of buffet joints and can eat for hours.

my mother, on the other hand, works in manhattan and enjoys going out to try all sorts of international cuisine with her co-workers. in high school, she was shocked when i told her i had never tasted indian food (because she never took me out for any!). still, for all her adventurousness, mom drew the line at purchasing superfluous ingredients for the sake of concocting western foods. she always raised an eyebrow and interrogated me every time i tried to sneak expensive spices into our shopping cart.

my cooking experiences first began with the oven. i have vague memories of stirring boxed cake mix batters with my mom in our cramped hoboken apartment. growing up, i made cookies nearly every time there was a bake sale to be had. but even after halving the sugar called for by the recipes, my parents would protest that my confectionaries were too sweet. later on they would complain that my quiche was too elaborate (their begrudging way of telling me it was good) and my queen of sheba cake reeked of almond extract (mostly true). they would plead: why couldn’t i make something from what we already had rather than go out and make all those unnecessary purchases?

i developed a love of food shopping. living in the suburbs, i was limited to the local, ginormous shoprite that had expanded to become a sprawling shopping metropolis. i followed my parents on every shopping trip. i read through the weekly circulars and built a mental catalog of how much everything should cost. the supermarket was my mall. at 14, i had the domestic know-how of women three times my age. true story: I was the only person in my home ec class who could distinguish a jelly roll pan from a cookie sheet.


indoor market somewhere in nova scotia, circa 2003

coming to college, a year on the meal plan and a constant low cash flow meant unsophisticated cooking and a lot of sandwiches. i didn't go out that much and rarely paid a restaurant bill totaling more than $20. but after braving my junior year melt-down and clicking into a senioritis mentality, i decided to hell with it all. i loosened up. when i felt frustrated, i ate. when i was lonely, i cooked. my boyfriend at the time took me around the neighborhood on his expense account, introducing me to hidden gems in the neighborhood like pisticci and the now closed sipan. every so often, i would wander around the city on my own and treat myself to a good meal.



and now? i desperately wish that i could go back in time and wish i had become a foodie earlier in my life. i struggle to catch up and learn all the infinite vocabulary out there, endlessly wiki-ing tagliatelle and madeira and profiteroles, trying to figure out that obscure french terms like feuilletage simply means puff pastry and feeling constantly defeated by my inability to understand wine. it’s not enough to claim that i’m young and have plenty of time for this. there’s people out there who are already classically trained in french chefing by this age! maybe, just maybe, if i eat enough and write enough and learn enough, i could do something useful with all this.



the world of food is so vast and deep, with no end in its potentials. i suppose i do well enough trying to make some sense of it. people like what i cook and i'm starting to get out into the world, making discoveries and trying new things. i'm learning new names and admiring new heroes: thomas keller, ruth reichl, anthony bourdain. i've sought out a few favorite food blogs/sites to read: the hungry hedonist, foodie nyc, chowhound, and the ever indispensable epicurious.com.

i’m that much happier with food in my life. i have a couple of odd jobs to support my food and beverage purchases, a subscription to gourmet magazine to show off on my bookshelves, and a laundry list of recipes to try and master. my most prized possessions are my cuisinart food processor, my herb garden, and for some reason, my growing collection of wigs (thanks to ruth reichl):



you should get to know me. i'm constantly on the look-out for:
1) people to cook for. (seriously people, my place = free food. come on.)
2) fellow cooks and food enthusiasts (though i may resent you for knowing more about food than i do)
3) sugar daddies to support my pricey pastime. ^_~

the catch-up: japanese restaurant week

banner courtesy of japanese restaurant week

japanese restaurant week concluded last saturday. i first found out about this event while searching for info about the recently closed honmura an. a quick google search serendipitously referred me to a guide new york magazine posted on its grub street blog and lo, i found out just in time.

i had formulated lofty dreams of trying out several places, but most of my friends were busy (it being the last week of midterms before spring break). i have to say that their unavailability was a blessing in disguise because i'm sure i would've broke the bank on this adventure. as the week rolled to an end, i was only able to taste test one establishment: restaurant nippon in midtown.

my friend casey picked the location and we squeezed in a late lunch between our respective busy schedules. the restaurant boasts opening new york's first "authentic sushi bar" and having served not one, but two official kaiseki dinners to the showa emperor and empress (way back in '75). after reading that they made their own soba noodles from their private buckwheat farm in canada, we were sold.

for those unfamiliar with the restaurant, a single look at its frosted glass door with an industrial handle/lock and one would assume that the place was abandoned. one would never know that inside existed a labyrinth of a dining room, snaked around several hidden private quarters, each table filled with japanese and american salarymen alike. the architecture and decor were beautiful if not a little busy and cramped. the interior had several more tables than the fetching picture below would have you believe:


photo taken from restaurant nippon’s website

even though i had made a reservation in advance (which, for just 2 people, was pretty pointless), my friend and i had to wait a good 20 minutes for a table. their lunch rush seemed pretty hectic as there was an unrelenting string of people walking into the restaurant.

luckily, when we sat down to order, all we had to do was simply point to the soba kaiseki special. casey and i decided to order both set a & set b so we could split each course. after a mix-up over the service trays, our bumbling, middle-aged filipino waitress barked at a younger waiter to fetch our tea.

after a good wait, our first courses arrived. or rather, my first course arrived. my lacquered tray was filled to capacity with a dish of pickled squid and a serving of nimono, followed by a tray of sushi and a plate of fluke sashimi, with their accompanying sauces. meanwhile, casey's bowl of age dashi dofu (deep fried tofu in seafood stock) and spinach gomae (spinach with sesame) looked forlorn next to my appetizer extravaganza:



i apologize for the poor quality of these photos, we were sat in a darker section of the restaurant, our light sourced blocked by the screen separating us from the next table. i also refrained from using flash, not only because it washes out the colors of the food, but because...

as soon as my tiny, unobtrusive camera came out, our waitress popped out of nowhere, screeching, "WHY YOU TAKE PICTURE?" every bit the short-statured yet exceptionally intimidating asian mom-type, she glared at me accusingly. to which, i could only manage a meek " i always take photos when i go out to eat." though she didn't raise any more fuss, i couldn't help but feel ill at ease throughout my meal, fearing she would come back and confiscate my camera. or berate me for not studying for my midterms.

>> back to the food:
the fluke was beautifully sliced, yet tasted like nothing at all, lacking in any salty trace of the sea. the nimono was disappointingly bland for vegetables simmered in stock. the sushi was good, but a single piece of salmon nigiri-zushi is hard for gauging quality (i politely but reluctantly offered the tuna to casey).

the saving grace was the little dish of pickled squid, which i was told was specially marinated in sake. the squid was tender, yet retained its characteristic bite. the little slivers were salty and incredibly flavorful, tasting of sweet mirin and offering a hint of spiciness.

my companion's spinach gomae and age dashi tofu were tasty but average. i had a lingering feeling that he resented me for not letting him order the more adventurous age dashi mozzarella.

my next course was some kind of non-descript dumpling floating in a thick, clear broth. the giant deep-fried taro dumpling was creamy and luxurious, but the glutinous shitake broth was a little strange:


(sigh. sorry for these terrible photos. the lighting was atrocious.)

casey's second course was one of restaurant nippon's house specialties: soba salad. this was our first taste of real, handmade soba. the noodles were smooth and slippery, cooked just enough (though short of al dente) for a great, characteristic bite. the salad was dressed lightly with more vinegar than oil (as cold asian dishes tend to be), and was incredibly flavorful. the soba salad was laced with fresh greens, shreds of carrot and nori, bits of puffed rice and toasted sesame, elements that complimented but took no attention away from the superstar soba. swept away by the flavors and textures, i brazenly asked to take more and more bites from casey's plate as he (for all his engineering prowess) lamented his inability to wind the slippery noodles around his chopsticks.

[note] i forgot to take pictures of casey's food, so you'll have to deal with stock photos from the restaurant's website. his soba salad was like this, albeit served in a more appetizing arrangement and sans the seared tuna:

photo courtesy of restaurant nippon

my third course, tempura, was served in a cute little basket. my parsimonious side suspected that this was to divert our attentions away from the puny serving size. later, i was grateful for the small portions since a single bite of the rich fried shrimp proved to be the perfect mouthful. the oil would've been too much to handle had casey not been there to share the rest.



shortly thereafter, casey was presented with his final course: beef negimayaki. an original creation, it was first made at the prompting of the late ny times restaurant critic craig claiborne. casey and i agree that the dish was too western; flavors were strong, heavy and one-dimensional. the raw scallions were fresh, but i would've preferred soft, cooked scallions against the tender chewiness of the sliced beef. the teriyaki sauce was unimaginative, and too much of it was added to the sizzling platter. congratulations to craig claiborne, for setting back japanese cuisine by encouraging americans to eat this second-rate benihana fare.


again, the restaurant’s crappy photos. sorry!

my last course, zaru soba, arrived just as we consumed the last bites of the meaty beef negimayaki. (service was good about staggering the courses once they noticed we were splitting all the food.) our fitful little waitress began to laboriously explain the proper way of eating cold soba, but i cut her off, haughtily explaining that i knew my way around zaru soba.



i was delighted at the sight of the condiments: next to the airy heap of sliced scallion was an amorphous green mound--freshly grated wasabi! tasting it in its pure state, i was surprised to discover how delicate it was in comparison to its artificial, tube-confined cousin. rather, this true wasabi possessed the juicy freshness of cucumber (or was it cut with daikon?), very low heat, and a subtle essence all its own.

i mixed the entire lump into the dipping sauce of dashi, mirin and soy sauce and stirred in all of the spring onion to flavor the sweet broth. snatching a few strands from the bamboo tray, i bathed them in the dipping sauce before happily slurping them into my mouth, savoring every toothsome bite.

uninterested in the green tea ice cream offered for dessert, casey and i hurriedly asked for the bill, remembering the long wait suffered by our neighbors behind the screen. but first, we were presented with cute little packages of expertly wrapped green washi. inside was a soft pillow of daifuku, a perfect, gently-sweetened end to our meal.

a rant about coffee

lately i've been terribly confused by all those weirdly named coffee & espresso beverages out there. not to mention the ever-extensive list of sugar bombs that starbucks is gleaning. now i, like every other hot-blooded soul out there, enjoy my coffee morning, noon, and night, but surely our choices don't have to be so goddamn confusing!

after some extensive wiki-ing, i made major headway into getting my caffeinated delights straightened out. however, i still have no idea what to make of these things:

image taken from amazon.com

espresso = hot water is forced, under high pressure, through compressed, finely ground coffee. yields 1 to 1.5 oz.

[espresso variations]
americano = one shot espresso thinned with enough hot water to make a normal 8 oz. cup. dubbed americano b/c it is to be consumed "american style" with milk and/or sugar.
> it's essentially normal coffee!

macchiato = a single espresso topped w/a dollop of frothed milk.
> basically, espresso with an almost unnoticeable hint of dairy

(so that's what i ordered at bouchon! i felt like a fool expecting a moccachino)

cappuccino = a single or double espresso topped with equal parts milk foam.

[coffee and hot milk]
cafe latte = italian. weaker than a cappuccino, a single espresso + 8 oz or so steamed milk. often flavored with syrups. lately it's been fashionable to "draw" in the foam:
<--OMG
various images found on the internets

cafe au lait = french counterpart of cafe latte. strong, dark roast coffee + separate container of heated (not frothed) milk to be mixed before consumption. served in a bowl rather than a cup.


moccachino = a single espresso + some kind of chocolate flavor addition + steamed milk/foam.
> a chocolate latte

cafe mocha = a single espresso + steamed milk + chocolate syrup, topped with whipped cream.
> same as above

[cold coffee beverages]
iced coffee = coffee chilled by pouring over ice. make coffee stronger than usual so it won't turn sour when the ice waters it down. great for strong-brewed leftover coffee

thai iced coffee = coffee over ice, flavored with cardamom and sweetened with condensed milk. served layered so the customer can mix the condensed milk into the coffee:

image borrowed from someone's flickr

frappé = greek ice coffee made from instant coffee topped with foam. what all those god-awful sugary frappuccinos are (loosely) based off of. i’d like to try the true greek version someday.

i have to say that not all starbucks beverages are evil. terribly overpriced? yes, but what isn’t these days? way too much sugar and excessive whipped cream? yes and yes. but those baristas do brew a strong cup of plain old java and their flavored coffees are my secret shame. i am especially a fan of their gingerbread coffee. but being the smart cookie that i am, instead of shelling out $3 for a latte, i concocted my own version of gingerbread coffee.

sorry, but this recipe requires quite a bit of special equipment and ingredients:

1. for each cup of coffee, add two pinches of ground ginger, 1/2 a clove & a pinch each of nutmeg and cinnamon to however much coffee beans you use for 1 serving.
2. grind everything together in a coffee grinder (coffee can't really be ground in a food processor)
3. drip in your normal coffee maker. (i got mine free off those gevalia people, but my true love is the proctor-silex 48524 )
4. enjoy with sugar to taste and your choice of dairy accompaniment

happy sipping!

the catch-up: inexpensive seafood dishes

i've concluded that the fishmonger on amsterdam is not that great. sure, they specialize in seafood, but their prices are pretty much on par with those of the nicer groceries like citarella or garden of eden. i really wish zabar's would go to the trouble of supplying fresh seafood, but they're happy enough with selling the prepared stuff.

i picked up a little sack of mussels for a dinner date with my buddy yi. i scanned the offerings for some fish, but the tuna had bad color and the salmon looked tired. i chose to gamble on some white fish and bought a pound of monkfish filet, aka poor man's lobster.

for mussels, around 5 bucks will get you about 4 pounds' worth, which is plenty for up to 3 people. i cooked them in the classic french style with butter, shallots, wine & parsley, serving it with a loaf of crusty bread. yi brought crisp cucumbers cut into sticks and we ate our hearty meal entirely sans utensils.


(yi takes really maniacal photos of me. i am actually holding up a pair of tongs in my hand)

onto the monkfish: monkfish are really horrid looking creatures, but their flesh is delicate in taste and meaty in texture. (photo below comes courtesy of livescience.com’s “top 10 ugliest animals” poll)



i looked through my cookbooks and was inspired by a recipe for monkfish medallions. the cream sauce was sort of my own creation. i made this a month ago so the details aren't very clear in my head, but i think it went something like this:

1. cut monkfish filet(s) into 1.5 inch thick medallions, season with salt, pepper, dried thyme & rosemary
2. add oil & butter to a skillet and sear monkfish on each side for a few minutes
3. remove fish, add more butter to pan and sauté 1 diced shallot until soft while scraping up the bits of fish stuck to the pan
4. deglaze with a little white wine
5. turn heat to low, stir in some heavy cream and a pinch of chopped parsley. season with salt & pepper to taste
6. pour sauce over monkfish & serve with some kind of starch


(sigh. i love cream sauces.)

recently, i made tilapia with israeli couscous. i've been itching to make israli couscous for awhile now. turns out it's a really quick and easy dish: simply sauté a diced onion until soft, add in the couscous to toast, then pour in stock, broth or water and let it simmer until all the liquid is absorbed. i had expected couscous to cook like rice, but it's really more like pasta in that it only needs about 10 minutes.

inspired by the couscous, i decided to make up a mediterranean spiced fish dish to go with it. at the local morton williams, i had been shocked at how cheap tilapia had gotten: 2 small filets for only $3! in the kitchen, i went through my spices and chose cumin, coriander, paprika, and cayenne. after combining them into a small bowl to get the quantities right, i rubbed the spice mixture and some crushed garlic onto the tilapia and let that sit while i prepared the couscous.

cooking was straightforward but a little tricky. dry-cooking fish always confuses me. since there's no liquid present, there's a large risk of burning the surface while having a raw interior. first, i scraped off the excess spices. i tried to prevent burn by using a generous amount of olive oil and covering the pan with a lid so steam convection would help cook the fish through. nevertheless, the inside was still a little undercooked when the surfaces were done so i had to stab it with a fork and continue cooking. the fish came out decently moist and well-spiced. the part that was stabbed with a fork fell apart so i hid it with a sprig of parsley:



last thoughts: tilapia gets a bad rap for being a cheap, bland fish, but on the flip side, it absorbs flavors exceedingly well within just a few minutes so it’s a versatile choice when you’re short on time.

the catch-up: sandwiches

a couple of weeks ago, i discovered le pain quotidien, a belgian bakery-café with branches all over the world (they got 3 in kuwait!). their overpriced cafe au lait and pain au chocolat are my new favorite afternoon treat:



however, the sandwich i picked wasn’t quite up to standard. i ordered their smoked salmon with dill tartine (10), but the bread was tough and the smoked salmon was stringy, getting stuck in my teeth. on the plus side, the arrangement of salad greens and radish was fresh. and the slice of melon was a great touch, the taste of a juicy summer day against all the blistering cold outside.



>>skip forward to…
last week, after ice skating in central park with asian youth program (my volunteer activity), i walked over to columbus circle and treated myself to lunch at bouchon bakery.



everyone complains about the mall atmosphere, but i found it rather pleasant. diners can choose to look down on the fast pace of the world outside or sit back to the din of indoor human traffic. sure, there's distraction (and poor service), but it didn't detract the least from the pure pleasure of the food. even when i was sat at the worst seat on the floor:


yes, a quarter of my dining space (at the bar, no less) was taken up by a comically large bottle of bubbly.

i didn't have to look at the menu to know that i wanted the tartine of tuna niçoise (13.25), renown by almost every reviewer as the ultimate tuna salad sandwich. needless to say, my first brush with the legendary thomas keller was nothing short of magical.



every ingredient in the sandwich was perfectly matched: the hit of garlic in the aioli, the creamy yolk of the hard-boiled eggs, the crunchy discs of radish, and finally, the sliced olives dotting the sandwich like tasty purple jewels. i was totally bowled over, though would've preferred a little less egg and a little more radish for a fresher taste. but oh, that gigantic mass of tuna! it's hard to tell from the photo, but the portions were generous: the sandwich was very meaty and filling. the salad greens were well-dressed and tastier than most house salads.

my favorite part of the sandwich platter was the three little cornichons (french gherkin pickles). they were sweeter than most pickles, but delightfully vinegary and incredibly crunchy. being the pickle fiend that i am, i had to really force myself to eat them slowly so they would last me through the sandwich.

while i was enjoying my meal, i also peered over to see what my neighbor was having: butternut squash soup and CB&J (cashew butter and homemade apricot jam) on thick slices of brioche. the woman who replaced him ordered the thanksgiving-inspired pepper-crusted turkey, served with spiced cranberry relish.

for dessert, i chose chocolate bouchons with coffee ice cream (8), despite the fact that i was still freezing from ice skating. the little chocolate cakes were too dry/chewy and should've been served much warmer. cutting into one with my fork, i found that tiny nooks of melted chocolate dotted the interior of the cake (made using chocolate chips). zero complaints about the coffee ice cream: soft, dark and bittersweet, it was the perfect accompaniment to the dense mini-cakes:



i can't wait to go back, maybe try a pastry from their bakery section. this is a great casual-upscale place (with mid-range prices) to take a visiting friend. show them how sophisticated a new york sandwich can be once it's been transplanted from california.

a sunny day in new york

yesterday was really a beautiful day. it was warm enough for me to take off my coat and walk about in just a turtleneck and jeans. it was pleasantly sunny, but not blinding. a perfect prelude to spring.

after putting in 2 hours at my odd job, i wandered around the upper east side and came upon designer resale too, a consignment shop (think designer thrift shop) that was having a spring pre-sale. quite lovely stuff, altho the prices were a little steep. after a bit of digging, i did walk out of there with a lovely french-inspired flowered shirt-dress. i was also tempted by a pair of christian louboutin slingbacks (the only pair i've ever seen that didn't have sky high heels), but restrained myself.

happy from my consumerist high, i wandered about some more, taking in the city blocks full of people walking children and newly sweaterless dogs. there were a lot of joggers about. shortly after deciding against going to the met (was not in the mood for indoor date with louis comfort tiffany), i discovered demarchelier restaurant. their chalkboard sign looked promising: mussel soup, pate de foie gras, eggplant terrine...

walking in, i numbered another body in their steady stream of lunch rush customers. service was spotty, but any requests were immediately satisfied once you managed to flag down a waiter. i ordered set 2 on the "express menu," consisting of soup of the day, salad and chocolate mousse (only $15):



the food came immediately. i barely read a page of the book i brought with me (my hero ruth reichl's comfort me with apples). the mussel soup was very smooth, rich and fulfilling. i couldn't figure out why the soup had a green tinge (peas?), but did distinctly taste mussels and well-prepared seafood stock.

i was so happy with the soup that i decided to spring for a glass of wine. choosing a white at random, i went with a sauvignon blanc. tasting it, i was unexpectedly impressed by its quality. really good stuff at $8 a glass!

thoroughly engrossed in my meal, i spooned soup, tore bread (tough, but served with supergood butter), and sipped at my wine. but suddenly, tragedy stuck. as i ripped at a particularly stubborn slice of baguette, i knocked over my wine glass, spilling the entirety of its near-full contents on the floor. luckily the mother-daughter pair next to me was no longer present to bemoan the soaked tablecloth, but i blushed as my neighboring diners gazed at my mess.

thankfully there was no broken glass. a busboy was promptly on the scene, bearing a mop and a kind wisp of a waitress removed my glass, replacing it with a new one (at no extra charge!).

i resumed enjoying every spoonful of my mussel soup. the house salad was perky and minimally dressed, but as unspectacular as one would expect raw bitter greens to be. the pace of the day slowed with each sip of crisp sauvignon blanc. i even started to turn my attentions on the kansas vs. kansas state game playing at the bar:



dishes were cleared shortly after i finished eating and chocolate mousse rounded out the meal. by now i was so enchanted by food and beverage that i forgot to take a photo of dessert. i remembered only after making a sizable dent:



at first, i wasn't too big on it (not a chocolate fan). but it was really light in texture and rich in taste, with a smooth, buttery finish. it had a very full flavor to it, without any metallic or chalky tones that would betray the use of poor quality chocolate. i'm always looking for darker, more coffee-like notes, but this was a good, solid milk chocolate dessert. and not too sweet at that!

when i paid my bill and stepped out to sun-filled streets, i was in such a good mood that i decided to cut through central park and walk the 2.5 miles home:


exhausted from my walk (making a stop at zabar's added yet another mile to my journey), i came back and collapsed into my bed. i made myself a mimosa, uncorking the bottle of Mumm Napa blanc de noirs i picked up on the way home ($17). then i sat back and watched children of men while waiting for my dinner buddies to call.

around 7ish, i started to cook. i've been meaning to learn some Italian dishes. mostly so i can make some for M when i visit him in the future (he's in taiwan). i'd been flipping through old issues of gourmet (january was italian themed) and made up my mind that i would make my own ravioli from scratch. i also intend to make ricotta dumplings and some eggplant dishes... but for that night, the menu was decidedly polenta with mushroom ragu:



(sorry it's not the most appetizing photo, but this was actually some of my best cooking yet)

polenta was pretty straightforward: cook 1 cup of cornmeal in 4 cups water + a generous sprinkling of salt. the recipe said not to use stone-ground cornmeal, but since that’s what i had on hand, i went with it and everything turned out just fine. i don't get why polenta has a rap for being so difficult to make. sure you gotta whisk vigorously in the beginning, but it's not such tough going. after that, you just stir every couple minutes when you catch a break from prepping something else.

mushroom ragu (ragu/ragout = meat sauce) was an original creation. i boiled the hell out of 2 dried shitake mushrooms for their broth (snap off the stems while dry so they'll cook through). once they were near tender, i sliced them up (cut the stems especially thin) and threw them back in to cook down more.

in another pot, i sautéed 1 diced shallot in a big chunk of butter. once they were soft, i threw in an entire container's worth of mushrooms, sliced thinly. i let that simmer over low heat, covered, so that the mushrooms would cook in their own juices. next came the herbs: mostly thyme with a little rosemary, marjoram and nutmeg. a few minutes later, i stirred in a big spoonful of tomato paste, added the shitake + broth from the other pot, and let that reduce.

in yet another pan, i fried up some chopped veggie burger (boca burger brand works best) until the bits were browned and very dry. this is a great vegetarian trick since the dry pieces of veggie burger will absorb less liquid and thus, have a meatier texture. i stirred them in at the end of the cooking process so they wouldn't get too spongy/mushy from the liquid in the mushroom sauce (or the steam released from its latent heat).

the sauce was surprisingly rich for something entirely vegetarian--vegan, at that. i was quite proud. the polenta was fluffy and soft, though not as nutty as i had hoped. i suspect it's the stone-ground white cornmeal. next time i'm springing for the coarse yellow stuff.