Mama-ghetti

Hola from Costa Rica!

2009-05-11T15:34:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know . . . I'm currently living in Cartago, Costa Rica (4 weeks down, 2 to go), participating in an international volunteer program. I'll begin posting regularly again as soon as I return to the States on May 23rd. Stay tuned for reviews on Costa Rican cuisine, recipes, and lots of pictures. Pura Vida!

Sushi Says I'm Sorry

2009-03-30T23:57:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

I apologize. It's been too long since my last post. I assure you that I've been cooking (and eating!) . . . I just haven't been taking very many pictures or setting aside the time to write. But just to prove to you that I've been busy in the kitchen, I'm posting pictures of some futomaki sushi that I made a couple of weeks ago:

1) The "guts" of my sushi: cucumber sticks, simmered (dried then revived) shiitake mushrooms, imitation crab, blanched spinach, fried egg, avocado, and blanched carrots. I also used some anago kabayaki (barbequed salt-water eel).

2) My work station, all set up with a pan of sushi rice, toasted sheets of nori (dried seaweed), and my plate of goodies.

3) A work in progress.

4) A plate of finished futomaki sushi. I made different kinds using different combinations of ingredients.

When I was a kid, my mom would often let me help when she made sushi. The two of us would sit next to the open sliding glass door at my grandparents' house in Makiki, fanning a steaming pan of sushi rice. My favorite part of sushi-making with my mom was that she always let me eat the rejects and the end pieces when she sliced the rolls. I used to stand over her like a little vulture, praying that she'd make a mistake so I could have another piece.

My solo sushi-making adventure was a totally exhausting, time-consuming and fun experience. My recipe for the rice is still a work in progress--I struggled with the texture (too sticky!) and balance of flavor. I also had trouble with the egg, which is supposed to be delicately and evenly fried.

Last, I think I need a sharper knife, because slicing the sushi without smushing or bursting or disfiguring it was a real challenge. Or maybe I was sabotaged by my subconscious . . . Did I secretly want all of those delicious rejected pieces to myself?

Ground Turkey Gyoza

2009-02-14T21:58:00.000-08:00

I thought that after I got the Seigen restaurant review off of my chest I would give you the first recipe in the "Cats-up" series. But here I am, sidetracked yet again.

This week I received the following request from my childhood friend Michele: "I need new inspirations for chicken dishes and asian noodle dishes that aren't ramen." So Michele, this one is for you. I'm not sure if you've tried it yet, but I recently made wildly successful gyoza (pot stickers) using ground turkey (you can use ground chicken, too). This recipe is perfect for those of you like Michele who don't eat four-legged animals. They were as good as, if not better than, the traditional kind made with pork.

Ingredients: (This recipe makes at least 50 pot stickers, probably more)

1-1/4 lb. ground turkey
gyoza wrappers (make sure they're not previously frozen, they'll stick together)
green onions, chopped
chives, chopped
cabbage, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 egg
a splash of shoyu
a splash of water
a tiny drizzle of sesame seed oil (be careful, its flavor is very strong)
salt, pepper, and garlic powder

Just mix up all of the ingredients except the wrappers in a big bowl. Then spoon a little bit of the filling (don't over-fill because your gyoza will burst when you cook them) onto the wrapper. Wet the edge of one half of the wrapper with water, then fold it over the filling and pinch it closed.

To cook them, heat a little bit of canola oil in a frying pan or a high-sided skillet on medium high heat. Place the gyoza in the pan in a single layer. Add some water (1/2-2/3 cup should be enough) and cover the pan. Cook until the water has evaporated (if you're not sure about the cooking time, cooking longer won't hurt . . . it's better to err on the side of caution when cooking raw poultry. And there's no such thing as over-cooking ground turkey. The texture holds). Last, take the cover off and let the gyoza fry, flipping once. They should be golden brown.

What to do if you make more than you can eat in one sitting (and you probably will):

Gyoza freezes well. Just lay the raw gyoza in a single layer on a baking sheet and stick it in the freezer for about 45 minutes. This step is necesary because if you dump them all in a bag when they're fresh, they'll get stuck together. After that, you can put them in a ziploc freezer bag and keep them in the freezer for up to three months.

Leftovers are best in soup. This last picture shows what I did with my frozen gyoza two weeks after I made them. I made a quick soup of boxed chicken stock, water, shoyu, salt, pepper, and a drop of sesame oil. I dropped the gyoza in, then let the soup come to a boil. I let it continue to boil until the gyoza float to the top--that's when you know they're done. You can also add noodles or veggies to this to make it a hearty meal.

Seigen: Kyoto, Japan

2009-02-09T20:02:00.000-08:00

There's a tiny restaurant in Kyoto that I keep meaning to tell you about. It's called Seigen, and it's an authentic washoku restaurant run by a husband and wife. I dined there last October when I was on vacation with my family in Japan. I didn't write about it earlier because I don't quite know how to describe the food and the flavors at Seigen. Even now, as a write this entry, I can't decide what words to use.

Maybe it's because traditional Japanese food, unlike any other kind of cuisine I've experienced, is so perfectly subtle. The flavors are bold only in their simplicity. The textures and aromas are at once distinctive and harmonious. There are layers of delicate bitterness and umami and understated tang--tastes you wouldn't recognize or even notice unless you really tried. Washoku makes me think of the scene in Disney's Ratatouille when Remy the rat eats the cooked mushroom with the cheese for the first time. Each flavor has its own shimmering note and color.

That's what the food was like at Seigen. We enjoyed an exquisite seven-course meal (I forgot to take a photo of steamed fish and scallions in soy-citrus broth) prepared by the restaurant's proprietors. The dishes were beautiful. The ingredients were fresh and seasonal. The chef used persimmons and yuzu and chestnuts and little citrus-y, edible flower petals in ways I could never have imagined.

I'm certain that this blog post doesn't adequately describe the cuisine at Seigen. So if you're ever in Kyoto, please go there and have a meal. Then you'll know what I mean.

"Cats-up!"

2009-01-30T16:43:00.000-08:00

My dear friend Julia's father tells a story about ketchup (catsup) and how it's made. It goes like this: "When making catsup, you have to put all of the tomatoes, spices and other ingredients into a large pot to simmer. Then you add several cats to the pot--yes, cats. When the cats float to the top, you say, 'CATS-UP!' That's how you can tell when the catsup is ready."

Neither Julia nor her father is an animal-hater (so PETA, stand down). But I thought the story would be a good segue into a new series of recipes I'll be presenting here on Mama-ghetti: recipes that use ketchup.

You might be surprised to hear this, but many contemporary Japanese recipes incorporate ketchup as a main ingredient. Ketchup is also a great shortcut in other recipes that require a tart, sweet, tomato-ey kick.

And if you haven't already figured this out . . . I'm a huge fan of ketchup. It could possibly be my favorite condiment. So if you're a ketchup-lover like me, but you think that ketchup's only good for dipping your french fries, I'll prove you wrong--just stay tuned.

Thank you to Julia and her dad for the funny story and to "A Cat a Day" for the photo!

Char Siu Chow Fun

2009-01-24T22:37:00.001-08:00

Just in case you were wondering about the chow fun I mentioned in my previous post--here are some pictures.

1) Char siu (Chinese barbequed pork), onions, celery, and scallions, chopped up and ready to go. (I wish I had had some bean sprouts on hand . . . I would've used those, too.)

2) Into the hot wok they go, accompanied by some oyster sauce, soy sauce, a whole garlic clove, and a couple of slices of ginger. I removed the garlic and ginger after this step--I just wanted them to lend their flavor and aroma.

3) Then I added the rice noodles, and some salt and pepper.

4) All done! The whole dish, including prep time, only took 20 minutes. It was delicious (am I allowed to say that about my own cooking?).

Tip #2: Freeze Your Scallions

2009-01-24T19:52:00.000-08:00

I'm making chow fun (wide Chinese rice noodles) for dinner tonight. My hands are actually a bit sticky with char siu glaze and onion juice as I type this entry--but I wanted to post the following tip before I forgot: FREEZE YOUR CHOPPED SCALLIONS!

I cook a lot of Asian dishes so I use scallions (or green onions) in my cooking all the time. But they tend to wilt and lose their crisp texture after just 24 hours in the fridge. I've tried wrapping them in damp paper towel, putting them in ziploc baggies, making sure they're in the crisper drawer--but none of those solutions seem to work for me. I always end up with floppy scallions, which are not only ugly and unappetizing, but also really difficult to chop.

So now I do what my mom and my grandmother do: I chop them all up while they're still fresh, put them into a freezer safe bag or container, and freeze them. Then when it's time to use them again, I only remove the quantity I need. Genius, aint it?

All Blues: Food, Family and Hawaii

2009-01-18T22:50:00.000-08:00

I had the privilege of spending the holidays in Hawaii again this year. And as usual, I ate my way across the island of O'ahu with great enthusiasm. There is something about food and flavors and the experience of eating that lies at the very heart of Hawaii's culture.

For me, the sugary outside and doughy inside of a hot Leonard's malasada is a Sunday visit with my grandmother. The savory, greasy, crispy skin of huli-huli chicken is a warm Saturday at a North Shore beach with my dad. My mother's home-made osechi is a busy New Year's Eve in our small kitchen and the whole family gathered around the table at lunch on New Year's Day. Food, family and the salty scent of sea breeze are inseparable in my memories of Hawaii.

Do you know that Miles Davis song, "All Blues?" It goes--"the sea/the sky/and you and I . . . " Well when I think of Hawaii, I sing to myself: "the sea/the sky/chocolate haupia pie . . ."

Mesa Grill

2008-12-15T16:48:00.000-08:00

Last night I returned from a weekend trip to Las Vegas. I'm exhausted. I have huge puffy circles under my eyes. My ears still ring with the jingling of slot machines. My hair smells like cigarette smoke and no matter how much I scrub, I can't seem to get the ink from the nightclub stamp off of my wrist.

The unsustainable lifestyle I lived while in Vegas was great. But the real highlight of my trip was dining at MESA Grill, Iron Chef Bobby Flay's first restaurant. Those of you who know me know that Bobby is my celebrity chef crush. I watch Throwdown on the Food Network religiously. So when we made the reservations at MESA, I was a bit worried that the experience wouldn't live up to my expectations. It exceeded them.

The restaurant, located in Caesar's Palace, was warm and colorful, with a completely unpretentious atmosphere. Our server, Joel, was friendly, attentive and eager to give us recommendations when we asked. And not only was the food beautifully presented, but it was also exquisitely prepared. The dishes were savory, sweet, spicy, crunchy, tender, fresh, flavorful and balanced. And the portions? Almost too big to finish . . . but we finished them anyway.

Here's what I ordered.
Appetizer: Smoked Chicken + Black Bean Quesadilla with avocado and toasted garlic creme fraiche. The menu doesn't tell you about the sweet and tangy sauce drizzled on top--did I taste balsamic vinegar, sweet chile and roasted red peppers?
Entree: New Mexican Spice Rubbed Pork Tenderloin with Bourbon-Ancho Chile Sauce, Sweet Potato Tamale and Crushed Pecan Butter. The pork was tender and moist without a trace of that farmy after-taste that pork sometimes has. And the spicy rub on the pork was balanced by the mild sweetness of the tamale. So delicious!
Dessert: Warm Cornbread Pudding with pear-apple compote, pear butter sauce and ginger-molasses ice cream. Need I say more?

So for anyone who's headed to Las Vegas, New York or the Bahamas (Mesa Grill's three locations), you owe it to yourself to taste Bobby's dynamic Southwestern cuisine. It may be a bit of a splurge (entrees range from 24-48 dollars) but the experience is worth every bite.

How to Make a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

2008-12-07T23:05:00.000-08:00

While earning my MBA at Mills College in Oakland, I took a course called Business Communication, taught by Professors Barbara Blissert and Ileen Erickson.

One evening, the other students and I entered the classroom to find a loaf of bread, some paper plates, a jar of peanut butter and a jar of grape jelly sitting on the front table. The starving student in me thought, "Yum. I wouldn't mind having a free dinner tonight." I sat down, eyeing the food on the table in anticipation. But our professors had something entirely different planned.

Our assignment that evening was called "How to Make a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich." Each of us had fifteen minutes to write the directions for making a basic PB&J. After our time was up, we handed our papers to a teacher's assistant. She selected a sheet at random and began following the directions written on it word for word, as if she had never made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before.

The resulting sandwich was a mess: several slices of bread in a haphazard pile, covered with sticky grape jelly on the outside and a large scoop of un-spread peanut butter on the inside. The student had written "some bread" instead of "one slice," and she hadn't specified which sides of the bread to stick together. The demonstration, in all of its absurdity, was meant to teach us concise and explicit communication.

So for all of you PB&J-lovers out there, here is my concise and explicit recipe for the PB&J's cousin, Jasmine's Peanut Butter, Fried Banana and Honey Sandwich (trust me, it's good).

Ingredients:

2 slices of whole-wheat bread
2-1/2 to 3 tbsp chunky peanut butter
1 banana
1 tbsp honey
a drizzle of canola oil to coat the pan
a sprinkle of cayenne pepper

Directions:

Place the two slices of bread side by side on a large plate.
Spread the peanut butter onto the face of one of the slices of bread with a butter knife.
Drizzle the honey evenly onto the face of the remaining plain slice of bread.
Preheat the canola oil in a small frying pan on a stovetop to medium-high heat.
Peel the banana, discard the peel, then slice its flesh into even quarters, slicing once lengthwise and once across.
Place the pieces of banana into the preheated oil, long flat side down.
Let the banana fry for about two minutes. Using a pair of tongs, flip each piece of banana onto its long uncooked side and let it fry for another two to three minutes, until it caramelizes.
Sprinkle the cooked banana with a teensy bit of cayenne pepper for an unexpected kick.
Remove the banana pieces from the frying pan and distribute them evenly onto the peanut-buttered face of bread.
Complete the sandwich by placing the honey-covered piece of bread (honey side down) on top of the banana. Now it's ready to eat!

Tip: Using Your Knife as a "Scoop"

2008-12-06T13:14:00.000-08:00

A good tip for amateur cooks like me: When you're gathering chopped veggies from the cutting board with your chef's knife, DON'T drag the cutting edge of the blade against the board--you'll dull and damage the knife. Instead, grip the handle the same way you normally do, but turn your wrist to flip the knife over and use the non-cutting edge (the spine) to scoop your food.

Thanksgiving Leftovers: NOT "Rascal-do," It's "Arroz Caldo"

2008-12-06T01:17:00.000-08:00

The turkey we bought this Thanksgiving was much too large. It was over 26 pounds--four times the weight of my dog. Maybe this only happens when the person shopping for the turkey is an over-enthused and un-fed man. Or maybe a 26-pounder was the smallest bird available at Costco. Whatever the reason, the same question remained on Friday morning: What does a girl do with the leftovers?

My dad taught me never to waste food. So this year, like all years, I carefully removed every shred of meat. I disassembled Mr. Turkey bone by bone. Then I made two important decisions: 1) No turkey sandwiches. And 2) No American food.

My U.S.-raised Filipino boyfriend had once told me about a dish that his mom used to make called "Rascal-do." He said it was similar to a Chinese congee, or rice soup. So I ventured online looking for the perfect Rascal-do recipe that I could make with my leftover turkey. I didn't find one. In fact I didn't find any--and I was soon convinced that such a dish did not exist.

But fifteen more minutes of Googling yielded results: the dish I was looking for is actually called "Arroz Caldo," which literally translated, means "hot rice." The common ingredients in all of the recipes I found were short-grain rice, chicken, ginger and garlic. I, of course, had to use up that turkey. And my rebellious Chinese soul felt compelled to add a couple of ingredients that reminded me of the congee I ate as a kid. The resulting recipe follows.

Ingredients (I don't measure, so these are all approximate):

turkey bones (just the big ones from a whole turkey)
water, just enough to give the bones a nice bath (as my mom would say)
2 cups shredded turkey meat
1-1/2 cups short-grain white rice, rinsed
1 knob fresh young ginger, peeled and quartered
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 bunch of scallions, chopped
a small handful of cilantro, coarsely chopped
juice from 1 lemon
1 tsp fish sauce
salt and pepper

Here's what I did with those ingredients: First I made a simple turkey stock by bringing the bone-bath to a boil in a large stock pot, then turning the heat down to medium and letting it simmer for two hours. After that, I removed the fat and bones from the stock and added the uncooked rice, chunks of ginger and minced garlic. I let the mixture simmer, stirring it frequently (the rice gets stuck to the bottom of the pot if you don't) until it reached a porridge-consistency, about 45 minutes. Then I removed the ginger chunks--they were just in there for flavor--and the rest of the ingredients went into the pot with a quick stir.

My Thanksgiving turkey arroz caldo was a success. I especially liked the fragrant ginger, the bright citrus flavor of the lemon and the richness of the homemade turkey stock. It was gone before I even had a chance to take a photo of it. So maybe next year, you'll make your own version of this hearty peasant dish. And if you do, you'll have to send me your photos and tell me all about it.

But I'm Still Hungry!

2008-12-04T14:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Michael Mina,

A couple of years ago my boyfriend took me to your restaurant at the St. Francis Westin in downtown San Francisco. We were excited because we had heard so many wonderful things about the restaurant.

All of the things we heard ended up being true. The room itself was stunning. My water glass was never empty. The 6-course meal was presented with such beautiful plates and silverware that it seemed almost a shame to use them. And the food--it looked gorgeous. I can't say enough about the presentation--the dishes were artfully designed, meticulously crafted, stacked and garnished with such attention to color and detail--we might as well have been at The-Museum-of-the-Most-Beautiful-Food-of-All-Time looking at a masterpiece.

But you know what really disappointed me? That after spending two hours and over $300 sampling tiny portions of your critically-acclaimed, museum-beautiful cuisine, I can't remember whether or not it tasted good. I don't remember feeling the satisfaction of a full tummy and a palate entertained. I only remember that after the meal was over, I felt--of all things--hungry. Hungry enough for a late-night run to Taco Bell.

I'm sure that your fans will attribute my complaints to an untrained palate and an empty wallet. And I would never say that the food at Taco Bell compares to the lovely cuisine at your San Francisco restaurant. But I firmly believe that while every meal should be beautiful and delicious, it should also satiate my hunger. After all, food is one of those rare art forms that is more than a luxury--it's a necessity. The point and purpose of eating is to fill our stomachs and nurture our bodies.

Do I really have to choose between a beautiful experience and a satisfied stomach? I guess you could say I wanted both. Or maybe I just wanted more.

Sincerely,
Jasmine

**The photo above came from Michael Bauer's "Between Meals" at http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/sfgate/category?blogid=26&cat=646&o=10

Eating Japan

2008-12-04T00:36:00.000-08:00

I recently returned from a trip to Kobe, Japan, my mother's hometown. It was the first time I had been back to Japan in over 17 years. Of course our family reunions are always centered around big meals (whose aren't?), so we ended up eating at least five times a day.

I think it's only appropriate that I use my first blog post to show you some of the delicious cuisine--traditional and contemporary--that I sampled during my visit to Japan.

From top to bottom:
1) Okonomiyaki--a Japanese savory "pancake" filled with veggies, sauteed pork and squid. Topped with tonkatsu sauce and mayonaise.
2) Sushi--Can you believe the size of those pieces of fish? There's actually rice under there!
3) Kitsune udon and Sekihan set--delicious udon noodles in a hot bonito broth, accompanied by sticky red bean rice and pickled radish.
4) Yakitori--marinated grilled chicken skewers
5) Tonkatsu--Lightly panko-coated, deep-fried pork cutlet served with a mound of thinly sliced cabbage and miso-yuzu dressing.