FOOD ON THE FOOD

Garlicky Green Beans

Following up on my Mother's Day post, here's a recipe for garlicky green beans similar to the ones we had at Mulan. We love the basic recipe, but there are lots of variations, too. You can add 1 tablespoon of chopped scallions and/or minced fresh ginger. You can add a splash of toasted sesame oil and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Or you can heat things up with a half teaspoon of sriracha or some sliced fresh chilies. It's all good.

Garlicky Green Beans    

The kids used to hate green beans prepared this way, but now they love them. Huzzah!

1 pound green beans or Chinese long beans, trimmed, cut into 2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon hoisin sauce (or honey)
1 tablespoon rice wine or white wine (or water)
1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic
Pinch of kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Heat the oil in a large wok or skillet over medium-high heat, and sauté the green beans, tossing occasionally, for about 7 minutes or until they blister and brown in places but are still crisp-tender, not mushy. Remove the green beans to a plate.

In a separate small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, hoisin sauce, and rice wine. Set aside. Add the garlic to the hot pan and stir-fry for about 20 seconds until fragrant but not browning. Add the beans and sauce, and stir until heated through and the sauce reduces to a thick glaze, 1 to 2 minutes. Season to taste with salt and black pepper.

Sesame Soba Salad with Shiitakes

Husband was out of town last week, so I took that opportunity to make all the food he hates. (Or all the food he thinks he hates.) Enter this sesame soba salad with mushrooms and tofu. He's never had this particular dish before, but it just seems like exactly the kind of thing he wouldn't want to see on the dinner table after a long day at work. You get a sense for these things after spending 20 years with someone. But like I said, he was gone, and it was the perfect repository for my recent flush of homegrown shiitakes.

The recipe is from Melissa Clark's latest book, Cook This Now, which you should seriously consider buying, not because of the bullying title but because your favorite blogger bullied you into it. (That's me, by the way. Your favorite blogger. In case somebody else jumped to mind.) The chapters are arranged by month so it's perfect for cooking with the seasons, especially if you belong to a particularly fertile CSA. It's one of those cookbooks where every single recipe sounds good.

Soba are thin Japanese buckwheat noodles, and here they're tossed with roasted mushrooms, fresh cucumbers and scallions, and a sesame and soy sauce dressing brightened with ginger and a bit of orange juice. There's also a recipe for tofu "croutons," which I was skeptical about, not being much for tofu myself, but then I ate half of the fried cubes before dinner was even served. Frying makes everything better, even tofu. 

I think you can pretty well imagine the kids' reaction to this meal. My eldest looked stricken when confronted with his plate. He's a great eater these days, but even he has his limits. Brown pasta? Tofu? Mushrooms that look like sea monster tentacles? Not a recipe for success. (Well, maybe the sea monster tentacles.) Both kids ate their mandatory quota of bites and then slunk off. But, boy, I thought it was delicious. I will definitely be making this again, though maybe just for my solo weekday lunches.

Sesame Soba Salad with Roasted Shiitakes and Tofu Croutons

When outdoor potluck season begins, consider this instead of your usual pasta salad.

8 oz. shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, caps sliced into thin strips
2 1/2 Tbsp. toasted sesame oil, divided
5 1/2 Tbsp. soy sauce, divided
1/2 lb. extra-firm tofu, drained, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 Tbsp. peanut oil or olive oil
1 1/2 Tbsp. freshly squeezed orange juice
1 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar
1 Tbsp. grated gingerroot
1 medium cucumber, peeled
6 oz. soba noodles
2 scallions, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro
1 Tbsp. sesame seeds
Salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Set a pot of water to boil.

Toss the mushroom slices with 1 Tbsp. sesame oil, 1/2 Tbsp. soy sauce, and a pinch of salt. Spread them out on a baking sheet in a single layer. Roast, tossing occasionally, until mushrooms are tender and slightly golden, 8-10 minutes.

Pat tofu cubes dry with paper towels and heat oil in a large nonstick pan over medium heat. When it shimmers, add the tofu in a single layer and let it cook undisturbed for 3-4 minutes until golden brown on the bottom. Flip the pieces over and cook 2-3 minutes more until the other side is golden. In a small bowl, whisk together 2 Tbsp. soy sauce and 1/2 Tbsp. sesame oil. Pour it into the pan with the tofu and toss for 1 minute longer. Drain tofu on a paper towel-lined plate.

In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 3 Tbsp. soy sauce, 1 Tbsp. sesame oil, orange juice, rice wine vinegar, and ginger. Let sit so flavors meld.

Cook the soba noodles according to the package instructions. My instructions were in Japanese, so I kept tasting them until they seemed done, about 6 minutes. Drain and run under cold water, draining again.

Cut the peeled cucumbers lengthwise into quarters and scoop out the seeds. Cut each quarter into slices. In a large bowl, toss the noodles with the cucumber, mushrooms, scallions, and cilantro. Lightly toast sesame seeds in a dry pan, tossing frequently, 1-2 minutes. Add sesame seeds to salad. Toss with dressing, top with tofu, and serve.

Shrimp Fried Rice

I love this chipped little bowl I found at a neighborhood thrift shop for 99 cents!  It's perfect for leftover rice tossed with some vegetables and locally caught Maine shrimp, and dressed in a light, salty sauce. 

Below is the basic formula I use for fried rice.  It's pretty versatile.  You can use shrimp or no shrimp.  Sprouts or no sprouts.  Substitute in the seasonal veggies of your choice.  Use onions if you have no scallions.  The only real rule is that you need to use leftover rice.  If you use rice you just made for the occasion, it will surely be soggy.  No, make a big batch of rice for a stir-fry one night, and then turn the leftover remnants encrusted in your rice cooker into fried rice the next day.  That way, you can make a second meal with minimal effort.

 

Shrimp Fried Rice

If you like your fried rice to be brown, add more soy sauce--just hold the salt in that case.

2 Tbsp. canola oil
2 eggs, lightly beaten

2 cups whole scallions, minced

1 Tbsp. fresh ginger, minced
¾ lb. raw shrimp, peeled and deveined

1½ cups frozen peas (fresh if you have it, parboiled for 2 minutes)

5 cups cooked rice, chilled, broken up with a fork

2 cups mung bean sprouts

Sauce
2 Tbsp. chicken broth (or water)
2 Tbsp. rice wine (or other white wine)

1 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. toasted sesame oil
¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper

In a small bowl, mix together the sauce ingredients and set aside.

In a large non-stick skillet, heat oil over high heat until hot but not smoking.  Beat the eggs, then stir-fry them about 30 seconds to scramble.  Add the minced scallions and ginger, and stir-fry one minute.  Add the shrimp and peas, tossing for a few minutes.  Add half of the bean sprouts and all of the rice, stir-frying and continuing to break up any clumps.  When the rice is heated through and the shrimp have turned pink and coiled, add the sauce.  Mix well and remove from heat.  Toss with remaining bean sprouts and serve.

Source: Adapted from A Spoonful of Ginger by Nina Simonds.

Local Ingredients:
Shrimp: Cape Ann Fresh Catch, Gloucester, MA
Eggs: Chip-In Farm, Bedford, MA

Digging Mussels

I’ve mentioned before that I’m a big fan of mussels. I think other people would be too if they knew how delicious they can be. And how easy they are to cook. Also, how cheap they are ($2-$3 per lb.). And that farmed mussels are on the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Best Choices list, so you don’t have to be paralyzed by fear at the seafood counter trying to figure out what the hell is okay to cook for dinner.

I’m here to tell you that blue mussels are okay. More than okay. They’re sustainable and delicious. That is, if you can train your attention away from the particulars of their anatomy, just scoop the whole thing into your mouth no questions asked. That’s how I got the kids to like them. Told them to close their eyes and then I shoved a mussel into each of their mouths. Granted, it took years for them to trust me enough to go along with it, but now we have a pair of mussel-lovers on our hands and I claim full credit.

Mussels are filter-feeders, which means they strain plankton and other organic matter out of the water. Farmed mussels, mostly from Prince Edward Island in Canada but also Maine, are raised in waters that have met approved international water quality standards and the whole process is managed in an ecologically safe way. Most cultured mussels are grown on ropes raised off the bottom so there’s minimal habitat disruption when harvesting. Because mussels don’t require any additional feed and don’t produce any waste, they don’t pollute their environment the way that, say, farmed salmon can. In fact, they can actually improve water quality. (For more information about farmed mussels, go here (read text in blue).

Wild mussels, when you can get them, are also a treat, but you need to be aware of red tide, blooms of tiny algae-like microorganisms, which contain toxins that accumulate in mussels’ bodies and can make you pretty sick. A red tide warning was just announced yesterday for the Cape. By the way, blue mussels are not to be confused with the highly endangered fresh-water mussels, which have been prized for their use in pearl cultivation rather than human consumption.

But let’s go back to how easy they are to cook. Really easy. You clean them, dump them into a pot of liquid, cover, bring to a simmer, and steam them for five minutes. It’s literally as simple as that. A classic preparation is to steam them in a white wine and herb bath and serve them alongside a big basket of fries, preferably with a hearty Belgian beer nearby. I’ve also had them served in the North End in a light tomatoey broth with basil. But last week, since I had a half a can of coconut milk in the fridge, I turned to my favorite Indian cookbook (have you bought it, yet?) and we had curry instead. We served it over rice one night, and the next in a big bowl with some kale tucked in there, a baguette handy for mopping up any remaining sauce.

Mussels in a Green Curry

The other great thing about mussels (and clams) is that they trick you into thinking you’re eating more than you actually are. Your brain registers the size of the shells, but the meat is actually only half that volume. When I see the big pile of empty shells I’ve just created, I feel psychologically full.

2 lb. mussels
¼ tsp. cumin
1 small tomato, seeded, diced small
½ cup cilantro leaves
¼ cup mint leaves
1 Tbsp. minced fresh ginger
2 small green Serrano chiles, seeds removed
2 Tbsp. canola oil
1 cup onion, finely chopped
1 cup canned coconut milk
Water, if necessary
Salt

Scrub the mussels well in cold water and pull off any beards (they look like strands of steel wool hanging out of the shells). If using wild (non-farmed) mussels, check for any decoys filled with mud. They’ll be heavier than the others and should open up and expose themselves when manhandled. You’ll want to identify these and toss them out before they end up in the pot and ruin everything.

In a food processor, grind the cumin, tomato, cilantro, mint, ginger, and chiles to a smooth paste. Or finely chop and mash with the back of a spoon. Set aside. Over medium flame, heat the oil in a large, wide pot that has a lid. Sauté the onion until golden, about 5 minutes. Add the green curry paste and sauté about 5 minutes more. Add the coconut milk and salt to taste. You may also want to add some water if your coconut milk is on the thick side, as mine was. I added somewhere between ¼-½ cup of water. Bring to a boil, then add the mussels, and reduce heat to low. Toss well, cover, and cook until all the mussels are open, about 5 minutes. Discard any mussels that haven’t opened. Serve over rice or in a big bowl with some crusty bread for mopping up the sauce. Serves 4.

Source: Adapted from 5 Spices, 50 Dishes by Ruta Kahate. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: My quality of life has dramatically improved since I bought this book.

Like shellfish? Here's more:

Mussel and Chorizo Soup
New England Clam Chowder
Shrimp Bisque
Oyster Soup
Pasta with Clam Sauce

But My Ribs Are Real

So everything went fine with my “procedure” last week, in case you were wondering. My expectations, admittedly, were pretty low. The initial conversation with the plastic surgeon went something like, "Can you just slap something up there that’s moderately convincing. Something that will stay put, instead of shimmying up and out of the neck hole of my shirt while I’m talking to my neighbors, Jesus Christ.”

But it turns out that the man has an artistic streak, a masterful grasp of subtlety and restraint that you don’t see too much evidence of on the market these days. It took me by surprise because I’m pretty sure we didn’t hit it off the first time we met. Probably because I just assumed he was surgically altering me with his eyes the minute he walked in the room, sowing potential seeds of self-doubt to ensure future business, causing me to become instantly hostile and defensive. Nevertheless, I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong and I may have been a little bit…you know, wrong about him. Maybe. Potentially.

Anyway, his good work isn't suitable for viewing, yet, so how about some ribs instead?

Sticky Asian Spareribs

Let marinate overnight for maximum flavor. Parboiling the ribs keeps the cooking time in the oven to under an hour.

3½ lbs. pork spareribs
½ cup hoisin sauce
3½ Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. rice wine, white wine, or sake
1½ Tbsp. minced garlic
1½ Tbsp. minced fresh ginger
Pinch or two of dried red pepper flakes, more if you like them spicy
1 tsp. toasted sesame oil
½ Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. sliced scallion greens

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. With a sharp knife or kitchen shears, separate the spareribs into 2½-inch-long pieces. Add the ribs to the pot and return to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a large bowl, whisk together hoisin sauce, soy sauce, wine, garlic, ginger, red pepper flakes, sesame oil, and sugar. Remove the ribs, let cool slightly, then add to the marinade. Toss lightly to coat and cover with plastic wrap. Let the ribs marinate in the fridge for at least 3 hours or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Place the spareribs and marinade on a sheet pan lined with foil, and bake for 30 minutes. Flip the ribs and bake them another 15 minutes or so until the meat is tender and the glaze is sticky but not burnt. Sprinkle with sliced scallions. Original recipe says to serve with roasted winter squash, which you can bake alongside the ribs on a separate pan, cut-side down, until tender. Serves 4-6.

Source: Adapted from A Spoonful of Ginger by Nina Simonds.

Local Ingredients:
Ribs: Chestnut Farms, Hardwick, MA
Butternut squash: Waltham Fields, Waltham, MA

Fish Three Ways, Part 3

Boy, my photography has really gone downhill. I thought it couldn’t sink any lower, but I was wrong. And speaking of sinking, here’s our last fish recipe of the series. We’ve explored Italian and Indian flavors, and now it’s time for Asian. This recipe is fresh and bright with bursts of ginger, lime, and cilantro. Served over rice with stir-fried snow peas, sticky green beans, or sesame carrots, it’s a nice dish that I’ve kept in rotation for years.

Oven-Roasted Fish with Ginger and Lime

1½ lbs. white fish fillets (haddock, pollock, cod, bass), cut into 4 to 6 portions
¼ cup fresh lime juice
3 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. shallot, minced
2 Tbsp. fresh ginger, peeled, finely chopped
2 Tbsp. fresh cilantro, chopped
3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 500°F. Brush large baking dish with 2 tsp. oil. Add fish to dish, turn to coat with oil, then arrange skin down. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Set aside.

In small bowl, mix lime juice, soy sauce, shallot, ginger, and cilantro. Whisk in the remaining olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Spoon a scant tablespoon of sauce over each fillet. Roast fish until opaque in the center, about 12 minutes. Top with remaining sauce. Serves 4.

Source: Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit many years ago.

Eggplant, Ooooooooo

Just when I start to get things under control, my Farmer fixation flares up again.  This time, it’s eggplant.  I loooooove eggplant, but it really all depends on the preparation and, as I’m learning, the eggplant itself.  These tiny, little specimens we’re getting from the farm, in addition to being cute, are also DELICIOUS, and so the Farmer has no one to blame but himself.  And maybe the rain. 

The first thing that jumps to mind with eggplant for me is eggplant Parmesan, but I didn’t want to get oil spatters all over my newly painted walls quite yet.  Maybe next week.  Also, I was in the mood for something different.  Something Asian, perhaps.  The Elephant Walk Cookbook to the rescue. 

People, this may not look like much, but it is so good.  It’s beef and eggplant in a Cambodian curry sauce over rice, which might sound like the eggplant would get lost in the shuffle, but it doesn’t.  It shines.  Even with all the substitutions and subtractions I made, it rocked.  Frankly, I couldn’t believe the cook was me.

(For the record, the kids just want me to mention how much they hate eggplant, and it doesn’t matter how much coconut milk I smother it in.  Fine, I said, you can have that opinion, but only after you take a bite.  Until then, you love eggplant.  You want to marry it.)

 

Cambodian Beef and Eggplant Curry

I made a whole bunch of substitutions to keep things as local as possible.  As for the coconut milk, well, I’m afraid I can’t divulge my source for locally pressed coconuts.

2 fresh jalapeños, seeded and deveined (next time, I’ll add another)
1 stalk lemongrass, thinly sliced (I used 1-2 Tbsp. lemon thyme from out back)
5 garlic cloves, peeled
2 large shallots, peeled, quartered
1 Tbsp. ginger, peeled, sliced
8 kaffir lime leaves (I used a similar amount of Vietnamese coriander instead, just for the hell of it)
¼ tsp. turmeric
2 Tbsp. cilantro
1½ cups water
¼ cup vegetable oil
2¼ cups unsweetened coconut milk (something like 1½ cans)
1 tsp. shrimp paste (I omitted this)
2 lb. sirloin steak, cut into strips about 2x1x¼-inches
¼ cup fish sauce
¼ cup sugar
1 tsp. salt
2 cups water
1 lb. small Asian eggplants, cut into half-moons
Fresh basil leaves for garnish

In a blender, purée the first nine ingredients until smooth, 2-3 minutes.  Set aside.

Heat 3 tbsp. of the oil in a large pot over medium-high heat.  Add 1 cup of the coconut milk and cook, stirring, until the oil in the coconut milk separates out, 2-3 minutes.  Stir in the spice mix from the blender (and shrimp paste, if you’re using it) and cook until the sauce has thickened, about 5 minutes.  Stir in the beef and cook 5-6 minutes.  Add the fish sauce, sugar, salt, the remaining 1¼ cups coconut milk, and water, and bring to a boil.  Lower heat to medium and simmer, stirring occasionally, 30-40 minutes, until meat is tender.

Meanwhile, heat the remaining 1 Tbsp. oil in a medium frying pan.  Add the eggplant and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes.  Stir the eggplant into the stew and cook until heated through, 2-3 minutes.  Serve over rice and garnish with fresh basil.  Serves 6.

Source: Adapted from The Elephant Walk Cookbook.

A Pickle For Your Thoughts

First, crock-fermented sauerkraut.  Then, pickle brine martinis.  This pickling stuff is clearly going to my head. 

To keep the good buzz going, I turned to Quick Pickles, a nice little book by Chris Schlesinger (of East Coast Grill and Back Eddy fame), John Willoughby (Executive Editor of Gourmet), and Dan George (who, I’m sure, also rocks). 

John was a former editor of Cook’s Illustrated, where we crossed paths, and he also taught a food writing class that I attended many years ago.  This does not mean, in any way, shape, or form, that Cook’s Illustrated or Gourmet somehow endorse this blog, just to be clear.  Quite the opposite, I’m sure.  It just means that John tried to teach me some writerly things once upon a time, while I tried desperately not to learn them.  (I think it’s obvious who won that tug of war.)

But, I’m willing to learn about pickles.  I’m willing to eat them.  And, most importantly, I’m willing to use up all these extra CSA carrots I have lying around.  So, let’s get down to business.

These pickles are awesome.  They taste nothing like your standard pickle for obvious reasons (just look at them), but also because there’s no vinegar in the brine.  In fact, there’s no brine at all.  The vegetables are preserved in oil, and what you taste are sesame and ginger and, well, carrots, all bright and cheerful.  You also get some heat from the red pepper, which builds as the weeks progress.  And while the carrots are crisp like pickles, I tend to forget that's what they are and end up eating them like they’re a side dish rather than a mere garnish.  Like some kind of unshredded Asian slaw. 

I can’t be sure, but I think that’s what the authors intended all along.

 

Sesame-Pickled Carrots with Ginger Strips

Save this recipe for your summer CSA, then grill some fish alongside it.

3 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 lb. carrots, peeled and thinly sliced (about 4 cups)
3 Tbsp. Asian sesame oil
3 Tbsp. peeled, slivered fresh ginger
2 Tbsp. orange marmalade (the more tart, the better)
Grated zest of 1 orange
2 Tbsp. black and/or white sesame seeds
Pinch red pepper flakes
1 tsp. kosher salt

In a medium sauté pan, heat the vegetable oil over medium-high heat until hot but not smoking.  Add the carrots and half of the ginger and sauté, stirring frequently, until the carrots are crisp-tender, 3 to 4 minutes.  Remove to a bowl.

Toast the sesame seeds in a small, dry frying pan over medium heat for a few minutes, shaking frequently, until fragrant (careful: they burn quickly).  Add to carrots along with the remaining ingredients, and toss well to combine.  Cool to room temperature, then cover and refrigerate.  The flavor will develop after a full day in the fridge.  They will keep for a month in an airtight container, shaking occasionally to redistribute the oil.

Source: Slightly adapted from Quick Pickles by Chris Schlesinger, John Willoughby, and Dan George. 

Ask the Pseudo-Chef: Feeding Kids

Dear Pseudo-Chef:

Any ideas for fast and healthy, kid-friendly meals?  I'm lucky, my son is a great eater, but we're still needing fast and healthy. –Susanna, MA

According to the Pseudo-Chef, the Pseudo-Chef is the last person to be giving advice on such matters.  After all, do you know what her toddler had for dinner last night? 

Ketchup.  Yup, ketchup and…no, just ketchup.  Is that what you had in mind?  What about this?

For an entire week last week, he ate fully 0% of his dinner.  That’s right, nothing.  Not one goddamned thing, unless a molecule of food happened to splatter into his mouth after his plate soared across the room.  The Pseudo-Chef is starting to lose it.  Why am I talking in the third person?

The problem is the definition of kid-friendly.  What appeals to one kid will surely look like a steaming plate of vomit to another.  About this time last year, the toddler, who was barely toddling, was into black beans.  And I mean really into them.  So, I made a bean salad with tomatoes and fresh corn (like this one, but with lime juice instead of lemon juice).  It was quite the sideshow to watch him scarf it down by the handful in such ridiculous quantities.  The preschooler just poked at it. 

Meanwhile, you could prepare cauliflower like this or cook up bow-tie pasta with chicken and broccoli in garlicky olive oil with Parmesan cheese (something Husband likes to whip up with precooked chicken from the store), and the preschooler will be all over it, no questions asked.  The toddler, on the other hand, will punish you for days for your audacity. 

All this to say, I dunno.  Stir-fries? 

Below is a stir-fry I make with green beans and pork.  I buy a whole pork tenderloin, cut it into thirds, freeze them, and then defrost as necessary.  I set the maximum amount of rice to cook in the rice cooker, parboil the green beans for two minutes, and then stir-fry.  The next day, I take the leftover rice and make fried rice with peas, shrimp, and mung bean sprouts (though you could totally lose the shrimp to save time). 

The preschooler will happily eat all of these things.  The toddler might possibly eat the pork.  Sorry, that’s the best I can offer.

Stir-Fried Pork and Green Beans

3 Tbsp. canola oil
8 garlic cloves, peeled, smashed (just whack them with something)
¾ lb. pork tenderloin, cut into pieces 1½ inches long, ¾ inches wide, and ¼ inch thick (or however it comes out)
3 Tbsp. fish sauce
1½ Tbsp. mushroom soy sauce*
1½ Tbsp. sugar
1 lb. green beans, cut into 1½-inch pieces
¼ tsp. freshly ground pepper

Get your rice cooking.

In a large pot of boiling water, blanch green beans for a few minutes.  Drain and shock beans in a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking and preserve their bright green color.  Set aside.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.  Add garlic and sauté a minute until golden brown.  Stir in the pork.  Add the fish sauce, soy sauce, and sugar, and cook for 2 to 3 minutes.  Add the green beans and stir-fry a few minutes more, until the pork is cooked through.  Mix in the pepper, remove from heat, and serve over rice.  Or, alternatively, separate all the individual components so nothing is touching.

*Mushroom soy sauce is a thicker, richer variation of soy sauce made with mushrooms.  Obviously.  You can substitute regular soy sauce, but it will suck.  Just kidding.  It’ll be totally fine.  It’s a stir-fry, for crying out loud.

Source: Adapted from The Elephant Walk Cookbook by Longteine de Monteiro and Katherine Neustadt.

Shrimp Fried Rice

2 Tbsp. canola oil
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 cups whole scallions, minced
1 Tbsp. fresh ginger, minced
¾ lb. raw shrimp, peeled and deveined (EZ-peel works), sliced in half the long way (I keep some in the freezer for this purpose)
1½ cups frozen peas
5 cups cooked rice, chilled, broken up with a fork
2 cups mung bean sprouts

Sauce
2 Tbsp. chicken broth (or water)
2 Tbsp. rice wine (or other white wine)
1 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. toasted sesame oil
¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper

In a small bowl, mix together the sauce ingredients and set aside.

In a large non-stick skillet, heat oil over high heat until hot but not smoking.  Add the eggs and stir-fry about 30 seconds to scramble them.  Add the minced scallions and ginger, and stir-fry one minute.  Add the shrimp and peas, tossing for a few minutes.  Add half of the bean sprouts and all of the rice, stir-frying and continuing to break up any clumps.  When the rice is heated through and the shrimp have turned pink and coiled, add the sauce.  Mix well and remove from heat.  Toss with remaining bean sprouts and serve.

Note: The rice will not be brown.  Taste it before you complain.

Source: Adapted from A Spoonful of Ginger by Nina Simonds.

For more kid-friendly ideas, check out these blogs:

Gastrokid

Family Food

The Vegan Lunchbox

Pad Thai: My Way, Right Away

With Pim’s blessing (thanks, Pim!), I shall now share my lazy interpretation of her upstanding version of pad Thai.

So, as I mentioned, I printed out her primer, studied it for hours, marked it up with a highlighter, and did some very complicated calculations that mostly involved subtraction.  Things like, subtract one wok from recipe, minus I don’t have this kind of time, minus I can’t find this ingredient.  This kind of math.

As an aside, I just finished reviewing the blogger code of ethics that Harrison3 made me read, and, come to find out, lying is bad.  So, let me just clarify that it wasn’t so much that I misplaced my wok as I intentionally sold it at a yard sale.  What can I say, I had a crappy electric stove in my apartment at the time, and the combination didn’t seem to work well.  So, my wok collected dust until I decided it was taking too much valuable space away from the rest of the dust. 

Now, I’m cooking with gas, and despite a nice collection of All-Clad, I felt it was very important to keep my paper-thin, non-stick T-Fals from college (priorities, people).  They heat up fast and hot, and I’m not going to say they work as well as a wok, but they work well enough.  (They also stack efficiently and the dust isn’t making a stink.)  But, really, any crappy non-stick frying pan will do, with the emphasis being on crappy.

Another basic concept of pad Thai, besides owning a wok, is that you shouldn’t crowd said wok by trying to cook too much at a time.  I can appreciate this concept.  A crowded pan is like a crowded MBTA bus.  Somebody peed in the back, no one’s owning up to it, so everyone just stews.  Everyone’s a little hot under the collar, but no one’s really smokin’ hot, if you know what I mean.  To get around this, Pim suggests sizzling up one serving at a time. 

I’m not doing that.  Well, what I mean to say is, someday I aspire to be patient and caring enough toward my dining companions to make their pad Thai to order.  Meanwhile, my kids will be shrieking that their meal isn’t dinosaur-shaped, and then to add my own hungry, pitiful whining on top of whatever cooking-lecture-of-the-day the engineer has to offer: it’s just too much.  I’m throwing it all in there at the same time.  I just made a point to be extra-diligent about keeping things moving in my alterna-wok. 

Which meant that I scrambled my tofu.  The egg was supposed to be scrambled; the tofu was not.  I fixed this problem the next time by cooking up the shrimp and tofu, setting them aside while I cooked the noodles, and then adding them back in at the end.  This is starting to sound way too much like a Cook’s Illustrated article.  Maybe I should insert some swears.

Another thing I learned, besides another use for tamarind, is that you should never grind your dried shrimp in a food processor.  I mean, unless you happen to like the sensation of jagged shrimp shell shards in your meal.  The mortar and pestle, Pim elucidated, gives you soft, fluffy shrimpiness instead of shards.  And it’s true.  In my previous attempts at pad Thai, I had always wondered what the Thais found so appealing about the equivalent of crushed rocks in their noodles.  Turns out there is no appeal.  The joke was on me.

Anyway, here it is...

 

Wok-less Pad Thai

8 oz. dried rice noodles
2 Tbsp. tamarind concentrate
3 Tbsp. fish sauce
3 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. paprika
3 Tbsp. canola oil
½ lb. large raw shrimp, peeled, deveined
½ package extra-firm tofu, cut into bit-sized pieces
1-2 garlic cloves, minced
2 eggs
¼ cup roasted unsalted peanuts, ground, plus extra for the table
2 Tbsp. dried shrimp, crushed in a mortar and pestle
1 cup bean sprouts, plus extra for the table
½ cup Chinese chives, cut into 2-inch pieces

In a large bowl of warm water, soak the rice noodles until pliable, but not mushy (20-30 minutes).  Drain and set aside.

In a small pot over low heat, mix tamarind, fish sauce, sugar, and paprika.  Heat until simmering, remove from heat, and set aside.

Heat oil in a large, nonstick frying pan over high heat until smokin’ hot.  Add the tofu, half of the garlic, and 1 Tbsp. of reserved sauce, and stir-fry for a minute.  Add the shrimp and cook until pink and gently coiled, and the tofu has browned.  Remove to a dish, reserving the oil in the pan.

Add the rice noodles, the rest of the garlic, and the remaining sauce.  Cook vigorously making sure to keep things moving to prevent noodles from clumping and sticking together.  You can add more oil if necessary.  When the noodles are cooked, push them all around the sides of the pan.  Crack the eggs into the middle and let set for 15-30 seconds.  Then mix all together.  Add the peanuts, dried shrimp, and bean sprouts.  Toss quickly.  Then add the Chinese chives and the reserved shrimp and tofu.  Gently toss to heat.  Serve with extra raw bean sprouts and sprinkled peanuts.

Yummy with beer.

Is This a Food Blog or What?

Okay, how about a recipe for a change?

Over the weekend, I did my annual Chinese-dumpling- making marathon.  I do this once a year in the winter, preferably when I’m snowed in, but in the absence of snow I’ll still make them because, where the hell’s the snow?  (Actually, it snowed today and I credit the dumplings.)  Also, coinciding with the Chinese New Year, with which they are traditionally associated, is sometimes a happy accident.  But again, not this year. 

I make enough to freeze for many meals to come.  It takes hours, but it’s worth it.  If you’re not up to the task, you can buy Japanese gyoza at Trader Joe’s.  They’re pretty tasty.  But those wonton wrappers are a bit flimsy for my taste.  These are more substantial, and you don’t have to worry about them falling apart when you pan-fry them.  And I always pan-fry them.

For some reason, this year I started crimping the edges with a fork.  It works well, but they look all wrong, as if they might be filled with sweet apple instead of delicious pork.  So I went back to using my fingers.  Besides, I have a hunch the Chinese aren’t using a fork to crimp their dumplings. 

Here are the specs.  It makes many, many, yet not nearly enough.

Chinese (or maybe Taiwanese) Dumplings

1 head Napa cabbage, quartered
1 lb. ground pork
½ bunch Chinese chives (or scallions), trimmed and minced
2-inch piece ginger, peeled and finely chopped
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 tsp. sesame oil
½ tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. vegetable oil, plus 3 Tbsp. for frying
5½ cups flour
2 cups water, plus ½ cup for steaming
Soy sauce
Rice vinegar (or white vinegar)

To make the filling, put cabbage into a large pot with water to cover, top with lid, and bring to a boil over high heat.  Reduce heat to medium and simmer until soft, 15-20 minutes.  Drain and cool.  Squeeze out excess water.  Finely chop cabbage and transfer to large bowl.  Add pork, chives, ginger, soy sauce, sesame oil, salt, and vegetable oil.  Mix well with your hands.  Cover with plastic and refrigerate at least 1 hour or overnight.

For the wrappers, put flour into large bowl and gradually add water, stirring with a fork until dough can no longer be stirred.  Turn out onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth.  Transfer to clean bowl, cover with plastic, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or up to 3 hours.  Divide dough into 8 pieces.  With hands, roll each into a 1-inch thick rope.  Cut ropes into 1-inch pieces and roll into balls.  With a rolling pin, roll out balls into 3½-inch circles.  Keep remaining dough covered to keep from drying out.

For each wrapper, put 2 tsp. of filling in the center and fold dough over to form a half circle.  Pleat the edges together with your fingers.  If they don’t stick, use a little water in between to seal.  Transfer to a floured baking sheet and cover with plastic.  Repeat.  Freeze on individual trays until frozen.  Then store in freezer bags until ready to use. 

To pan-fry, heat 3 Tbsp. vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.  Working in batches of no more than 8, add dumplings with ½ cup water, cover, and cook until the bottoms begin to brown, about 10 minutes.  Reduce heat to medium-low and continue cooking, covered, until filling is cooked through, 8-10 minutes.

For the dipping sauce, combine equal parts soy sauce and vinegar in a quantity that makes sense.

Source: adapted from Saveur.  Unfortunately, the recipe got separated from the magazine article itself, so I don’t know the surely-very-interesting back-story.  Just that the recipe came from Thomas Kuo, who was probably Asian.  I would call Saveur to find out more details, but that’s just asking for a copyright infringement lawsuit.  Plus, they don’t return my calls.