Southern-Asian Fusion

The food of the American South sounds like some of the grossest and most unhealthy out there. It is enjoying a revival that includes small batch bourbons, local sourcing, heritage animals and so on. That's nice. I have never been to the South. I am from the West. These two facts combine to mean that (a) I can't possibly understand or comment on Southern food, and (b) I have never eaten true Southern food. I tried to make something Southern a few weeks ago: chicken-fried steak. Sounds wretched, doesn't it? It should be served with a white, flour-based sauce. I have three cube steaks in my deep freeze, and what does one do with that cut? One makes chicken-fried steak. So I did. And, man, was it good. I served it as leftovers the following day in a most heretical way: with tempura dipping sauce. I think that is actually called "fusion." 

Speaking of the South, Paula Deen recently announced that she has Type 2 Diabetes. This comes as a shock to no one who knows what the woman makes: desserts and white-flour laden meals. Duh. She positively loves that her food is bad for you. She has a joke with her TV audience that you should "eat your greens" - she says this and then adorns her dessert with a mint spring. Ha ha. Apparently, Paula has had diabetes for a few years now and kept it out of the public eye because her empire is built on her unhealthy food. Wow. She might be working a deal with Big Pharma to promote a diabetes drug. Now that's gotta be called fusion too. 

Lady who lunch

Ah, the real reason I stay at home with the kids - lunch. I get to fix what I want and eat it in front of my favorite telenovela. Actually, I don't really have a novela now. One of the best ones just ended: La Fuerza del Destino. This is how I keep my Spanish ability well exercised. 

bean de dok, mung bean pancakes with kim chi

I like to throw together a little leftovers with something new, most days. Here we have some bean de dok (I'm on a Korean kick), miso soup, and a salad with miso dressing. Quite the lovely lunch. 

I call lunch my "break." Whenever T decides to nap, I get my break. When I have both S and T at home, I do not get a break. They have conspired against me - taking naps at different times. Actually conspiring so that, when it's time for Sam's nap, T wakes up from his. I remember wanting to blog every day about food. I also remember that I was quite active on Yelp, even getting "elite" status. Now I am not really active in anything. Two kids and a husband make a big mess to stay on top of - just feeding them means I am in the kitchen a lot. Like, a lot. I haven't been feeling very bloggy - I haven't even kept up with reading the blogs I follow. I usually at least do that. Ah well. Phases, right? 

Ode to Mom's Cooking, by Sam

post-Thanksgiving kitchen mess

You set before me this plate of food

And I stare and poke and search for something good

To stick my fork into, but instead find

That you must have left all the tasty stuff behind.

Because you know I won't eat these things that are green.

And pasta with sauce or meat or cheese - when have you seen

Me accept anything but stark naked noodles?

Stop all this ridiculous and fruitless effort and oodles

Of wasted meals - sweet potatoes no longer drive me wild.

I know I used to eat tofu and was a child 

Who dipped his fork into any dish.

I understand that this adventurous Sam is who you wish

To see atable at 6pm when you are looking

In the cupboards and fridge to decide what you are cooking. 

Though I am finicky, I really do appreciate and see

All the effort you put forth for my palette and me.

But, think of it this way, oh mother of mine,

I do eat from the food groups. I eat just fine.

Yes, my tastes are narrow and my appetite small;

I do choke and cry when you make me eat it all.

But I will eat fish, persimmons, and even squid,

And I often can be tricked when you mix new things amid

My staples of apples, kiwi, hard boiled eggs and cheese.

So, when I won't try your new dish, don't take it as a failure, please.

Someday I will comprehend your prowess with food.

In the mean time, don't let my pickiness affect your mood.

Rest assured that one of these days my tastebuds will gel

And we will mark the day when in love with your cooking I fell. 

gougeres for Thanksgiving

Wedges

brodo

There was one day last week when all my meals were shaped like wedges. I had leftover pizza, erbazzone, and fennel-leek tart. Funny. We were not supposed to order pizza, but we had to because, although I had been in and out of the kitchen for five hours that day, dinner still didn't come together in time. Ridiculous. I managed to shed zero tears, but I did feel like punching something. The pizza guy. With his smug grin and stupid pizza bag. 

Although there is no photo of the pizza, I would like to air Pizza Complaint Number One: raw toppings. When I make pizza at home, it takes forever because I cook everything that goes on it. We ordered a fabulous, seasonal mushroom pizza that was covered in mushrooms ... raw mushrooms. Well, okay, they had been cooked for 10 minutes in the oven with the dough and cheese, but that's not enough. You need to saute, people! (If I had left the comma out of that sentence, it would have sounded like I make cannibal pizza. Saute people! Let's eat Grandma! Yum.)

So, for pizza night, I was in the process of making Brodo with capellini and chicken. The broth is made by browning the chicken and the vegetables, then simmering everything, adding wine, herbs, and water. I am always worried that I am going to season incorrectly, so I commit the same sin that home cooks everywhere commit - under seasoning. You think I would have learned by now; I am even writing about it, so I have learned, I just refuse to liberate my hand when it has salt in it. 

So, the brodo was dark and lovely looking. And under-seasoned. It goes well with lots of pepper. And, funny enough, the parsley brings it together. 

chard erbazzone

I was also making erbazzone that night, which came together by 9pm. It is easy, but requires attention during its several steps. Attention that was drawn away by my children. I do a dance in the kitchen: I look at the clock and think, Okay, I need 20 minutes solid for this next thing, can I start now? Well, if Teddy wakes up ... hmmm, I do need to shower ... Oh, Sam needs me ... hmmmm, how about now? I have ruined two dishes so far during this Two Kids thing I am doing. Burning garlic is the pits. I considered this meal the third Ruin, since we didn't eat it until the following night. 

I have posted about erbazzone before, but this was the first time I made my own crust. It is the easiest crust ever! This from someone who cannot make crust to save her life: 2 cups flour, 1tsp. salt, 1/2 cup olive oil and 1/3 cup water. Bring it all together in a food processor. Knead for 30 seconds; let it rest in plastic wrap for 30 minutes. Bam. Crust. It rolls out to 1/4-sheet pan size, too.  

fennel-leek tart

The third wedge was of this tart: fennel-leek. It is sooooo good. I did not make the crust; it is puff pastry. You have to be ready for the off-gassing that follows this dish. What? Too much for a food blog to talk about the GI implications? Sorry. Did you know that Gulliver's Travels was the first novel that dealt with matters of the water closet? Bawdy, no? You have to think about these things (gas, not Gulliver) when you are nursing because what goes around comes around, if you know what I mean. 

Enough, I know. I'm not sure how many people I have looking at this blog anymore, so I am going for shock value.