Lychee red curry

This is my spin on one of my favorite Thai dishes, a classic pineapple red curry. Not that it needed spinning, I just had some canned lychee, but no pineapple. The bromeliaceous tang of the pineapple was missing a little (and no amount of lime could mitigate that), but the slightly savory, sweet pop of juicy orbs was really perfect in its own right. My curiosity was rewarded.

I've been sitting on this for a few days, on the fence about whether or not to even post it. I thought about revisiting it in the summer, when I could use fresh lychee and get glare-free photos, when I'd make time to make fresh curry paste from scratch instead of scooping it from a tub.

I remember a time when to me, this was really authentic Thai cooking. Knowing where to buy Mae Ploy, at one time, meant I was braver than the rest of my friends. It required an adventure into an Asian market that smelled of dried fish, incense and moth balls, and bringing home a tub of red or green curry was like sneaking a secret weapon into my kitchen. My friends would ooh and aah at how much my curry tasted like the "real" stuff at the restaurants.

Nowadays, an adventure into an Asian market means I come home with armloads of lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves, galangal rhizomes and chiles, jars of shrimp paste and discs of palm sugar and tamarind. These are the bases from which I construct my nowadays curries, and for me, it was a major phone-in to make dinner from a tub (even though I'm pretty sure that's what the restaurants use).

But it was so tasty.

Bacon cheeseburgers on green onion brioche

Last night we went to see the Department of Eagles play at the Doug Fir. I love that band so much, and it was a really great show (though they pretty much stuck to In Ear Park and mocked my cries for Forty Dollar Rug). Before the show, I didn't really know what to make for dinner, but had a pound of ground beef (the last of the grass-fed beeve we bought last summer) and two days-old green onion sweet buns from the Vietnamese bakery. I kept forgetting to take them to work for breakfast, and boy howdy! Am I ever glad about it.


Those Vietnamese really know how to bake. They don't, however, seem to be too fond of printing the name of their food on labels or the internet, because I have no idea what they call these buns. They're slightly sweet and tender like brioche (or Hawaiian sweet bread), and come in a variety of flavors like sweet bean, ham and cheese, hot dog and corn (a personal favorite), or green onion. I usually go for the green onion, because I'm a slave to green onion on sweet pastry (which reminds me, I'm overdue for some dim sum).

I sliced the bánh-something (I'm pretty sure these are actually Chinese in origin, but who knows) in half cross-wise and assembled them: first, a little mayo and mustard; then the mammoth gluttony burgers (a whopping half pound each); a slice of thick, smoky bacon; sauteed mushrooms and onions; a slab of Madrigal cheese and barbecue sauce. If they weren't $2 each, I'da put some avocado on there too. I know the purists are giving me that look. Don't look at me like that, this is my way of a burger. Besides, if you're using fancy scallion buns you've already ruined everything. Fucking live a little.

Serve with blue box and not a shred of irony.

Honey-tamarind chicken with rice vermicelli

Today, Scott and his broworkers went to Green Papaya to get some delicious Vietnamese food, as was their daily wont until the bulk of them relocated to an office further away than across the street. Today was Green Papaya for old times'. They sat down at their table, took a glance at the menu, and noticed that it had been totally chopped since their last visit months earlier. "The fuck?" Scott recounted to me, as we walked downtown's mizzled, brick streets, our gym gear in tow. He'd has his heart set on his Green Papaya favorite: honey barbecue chicken. Instead, he was relegated to the fare of a clunky, meatball sports club owner trying to phase out "seafood foe" and phase in "TVs".

I grew livid at the thought that my wantless husband was denied. His cravings are so humble and infrequent that he deserves to have every one slaked. And some stupid motherfucker thinks another sports bar is what this town needs instead of good Vietnamese food. I had to take matters into my own hands.

Okay, no, I didn't go break that dude's kneecaps, but I figured I could cook Scott his denied honey barbecue chicken. We already had skinless/boneless chicken breasts, green beans and red bell pepper that needed eating, and half a bag of fresh rice vermicelli. A bag of lettuce that I saved from the brink of compost (washed and cut, bagged for easy use) could flesh things out and provide a refreshing crunch.

I don't know if you can see the julienne on those carrots, but I did that by hand. Just so you know. (I just got my knife sharpened and am showing off.)

To make the barbecue sauce, I combined honey and tamarind (soaked and pressed through a sieve) lime zest and juice, a few squirts of fish sauce and a drib of soy sauce, a little palm sugar and a splash of rice vinegar, and some sambal oelek and crushed garlic. Slice the chicken breasts into thirds width-wise (fillet them into thin sections) and marinate the pieces for at least 15 minutes. Grill until sufficiently charred, then toss some red bell pepper and green beans on there. Scott said it tasted pretty much the same, and was happy. Yay.

Serve with rice noodles and lettuce, nước chấm, and righteous indignation.

Turkey Phở

This is such an easy way to run through that half-gallon of turkey stock you have gelling in your fridge, and it's a nice change of pace from the casseroles and sammiches. I'm sick of eating turkey, bread, mashed potatoes and gravy, and I'm sure you are too.

On Thanksgiving, we had a 16-pound turkey (for only 5 people), and I made 2 gallons of turkey stock from the carcass. This was way too much to store in my fridge or freezer, so I simmered the stock down to a scant 6 cups, and it really ended up with that velvety mouthfeel you normally associate with the unctuous oxtail broth typically used for phở. The large turkey also left us with a bag full of the confit legmeat and an entire roast breast with which to contend, and since turkey noodle soup is the third spoke of the Holy Trifecta of Thanksgiving Leftovers, I whipped up a version of phở gà, subbing turkey for chicken.

It takes a bit of time to prepare the broth, but it's worth it just for the way your house smells while it's simmering. Into a large pot, toss a few star anise pods, a 4" cinnamon stick, some charred/roasted shallots and ginger, some peppercorns and a couple of cloves, and two or three bay leaves. Toast these quickly in the pot until fragrant, then dump in the turkey (or chicken) stock. Simmer over low heat for an hour or so, replacing the water that evaporates. I also squirt in a tablespoon or so of nước mắm, and add a good pinch of salt and sugar.

Fill a bowl with fresh rice noodles (dried ones should be reconstituted in hot water for a minute first) and a fat wad of turkey meat. Ladle in the boiling-hot broth - this will heat the turkey and noodles and result in the perfect soup-eating temperature. Serve with mung bean sprouts, Thai basil and cilantro, lime wedges and sliced jalapeño, and I like a little sriracha hot sauce or sambal oelek and hoisin sauce on mine. Bon appétit!

Som Tam

Or, as we like to call it, "Sometimes."

Okay, I'm really pissed because I made some delicious food last night but the photos came out hell of shitteh so I don't want to show them to you. I made the dish I was going to enter into this month's Joust, which I made only because the ingredients inspired me: seared sea scallops with kaffir lime-lemongrass gastrique and coconut foam, served with green papaya-chayote slaw (som tam) and fragrant jasmine rice. I even taught myself about soy lecithin and got all molecular gastronomy on that shit! And I served the whole thing surf-and-turf style, with medallions of venison tenderloin that I rubbed with homemade green curry paste and drizzled with a pho-scented jus! It was delicious, high-end Thai food. I'll make it again, but I just want to go on the record to say I thought of that dish.

The only good photos I got were before Tammy and Steve arrived. I wanted to shoot some of it once it was plated, but with every second that I contemplated a photo, the food was getting colder. I rushed two shots that didn't turn out, and decided to post the salad instead.


Som Tam (green papaya salad)
I made this my own way, using shredded chayote for some added green flavor and crunch. I also used crushed papaya seed for a bit of pepperiness. In Thailand chayote is called fuk maew. Yes, this looks like it should sound kinda like "fuck meow".

1 green papaya (I used an underripe strawberry papaya), seeded
1 chayote, seeded
2 bird's eye chilis, seeded
1 clove garlic
1 tsp of the papaya seeds
1/2 tsp pink peppercorn
juice and zest from one lime
2 tbsp palm sugar (brown sugar can substitute)
1/4 c rice vinegar
few squirts fish sauce

Run the papaya and chayote through the grating attachment of your food processor (or you can do it on a regular cheese grater, or julienne them). Transfer to a large bowl.

Prepare the dressing: Mince the chili and garlic, crush the papaya seed and pink peppercorn together in a mortar and pestle and stir together with the lime, vinegar and fish sauce. Add the palm sugar and heat in the microwave for about 30 second to dissolve the sugar. Use fish sauce to salt the dressing as needed. Toss dressing with papaya and chayote and let sit for at least 15 minutes so the flavors can mesh.



Okay, I have another disclaimer: this is the beginning of the busiest time of year in my field. I worked about 60 hours last week (in the field 8 hours/day, then come home and work on writing an Environmental Impact Report 'til 10pm every night), and that's why I haven't been posting real food. I ate both delivered and frozen pizza for dinner last week. Tomorrow morning I'm leaving for California to conduct rare plant surveys (our Sacramento branch is short on botanists right now), and will be gone all week. Home on weekends, rinse and repeat.

I'll try to get some good stories of road food, but that will probably be the bent I hafta take until May, when I get to come home for more than just weekends. I get a $35 per diem for meals, so I imagine tales of fast food and truck stops will ensue. Being alone in a hotel gives me plenty of time to write, but finding something to write about will be the challenge.

Lemongrass pork lettuce wraps with grilled pineapple

This is a recipe from a few weeks ago, but I wanted to share it today since I haven't been cooking much on this stupid finger (contrary to last week's productivity, the finger really doesn't like to move and bump shit).

My wraps are "fresh!"

I usually avoid any fruit that's not local or in season, but the tropical fruit section of the grocery store was emitting a heady fragrance, and tempted, I bought a pineapple. I cut it open and slurped up a piece: juicy, sweet, with a perfect bromeliaceous acid balance. It wasn't as good as fresh-from-the-plantation in Fiji, but it was pretty fucking good. No elderly upside-down cake would do this beauty justice - fuck a Better Homes and Gardens. I really wanted to eat it with meat.

I took stock of what we had in the fridge, and decided Vietnamese would be the best course of action: we had some pork, sweet/hot Chinese sausage, bún tàu (bean threads), Đồ Chua (pickled, julienned carrots and daikon), a head of greenleaf and some cilantro. Lettuce wraps are easy and healthy, which would be a nice change of pace from two-day planning and hours-long prep. This was a weeknight, for fuck's sake.

I marinated the pork (thinly sliced), sausage (cut on the bias) and pineapple (cut into "fingers" haha, get it? cuz my finger's all fucked up?) in a mixture of pineapple juice, smooshed lemongrass and grated ginger, fish sauce, chili paste (sweet and garlic), a splash of rice vinegar and a splash of rice wine, and a goodge of hoisin sauce. Hot grill pan for a split-second sear and you're good to go. I deglazed the meaty fond off the grill pan with the marinade for a tasty dipping sauce.

You could wrap these in rice papers or just enjoy it on a bed of rice vermicelli (instead of the bean threads), but this is a fun way to eat.

Coho-corn chowder

...or, Happy Black History Month

I wanted to make a special Black History Month post, just to say "hey, Black People, thanks for helping make American food so fucking great! Cuz' if we didn't have soul food then I just don't know what." Have you noticed that, like jazz is to music, the only real completely "American" food we have is soul food? Black people are awesome.

So I wanted to conduct an interview of sorts with a fellow food blogger, like the foodie version of Ask a Black Dude. I looked around a bit and with a little hand-holding from Cynthia (who graciously bowed out of my invitation since she's a Guyanese Barbadan, and doesn’t actually celebrate BHM) I had the good fortune of making a new friend in Bloggyland - Courtney (aka Glamah16) of Coco Cooks. Courtney is hell of cosmopolitan - the lovechild of a Mississippian (but raised in Chicago) mother and Nigerian father - and she went to college in Paris! Perfect!

She was game, and so I pretended that I was sitting there with her like James Lipton instead of typing questions for email.

Heather: Hi, Courtney. Okay, sorry it took so long for me to get my shit together, but I finally have some interview questions. I want you to answer in your true voice, don't worry about how it types up. You may have noticed that I tend to say whatever the hell is on my mind, and type phonetically, so answer as honest as you wanna be. I will try not to use my "blaccent", but feel free to use yours, if you have one. :)

Courtney: Remember I grew up as the only black, or just a few in an all white environment. Let’s just say I was, and still am, mimicked. I have been called Carlton from Fresh Prince, or my new favorite (not) Oprah (in terms of speech). But that’s the beauty of being me and black. Not being pigeon-holed as to what society expects you to be like. I am what I am. Some people, either my own or others, don’t like it and that’s their issue.

H: Who taught you how to cook? (btw: my mom never let me help in the kitchen when I was a kid. She was always afraid I'd get kid germs and hair in everything or that I'd cut/burn/dismember myself if she let me do anything besides open a can or peel a potato. I didn't get to handle a real knife until 6th grade Home Ec.)

C: I was one of those precocious kids that was ahead of her time. My Mom encouraged me to cook. My parents were divorced and I remember her boyfriend at the time was speechless when he saw me grill my own lamb chops under the broiler for my dinner. I must have been like 11. My Mom let me start off experimenting with eggs. She was the most overprotective Mother you can imagine but that didn’t stop her from letting me cook. My favorite was lobster. Always had to have it. I was spoiled. I always liked grilled meats, and unusual things. On weekends when I visited my father I always plotted some concoction to cook for him that I got from a magazine. I never liked Nigerian food. Not that it wasn’t good, I just got sick of us having to eat it everyday. There was always a pot of "Soup" which was really a tomato based stew with meat, dried fish, or chicken served up with fufu. Not really exciting if it’s in your face everyday.

H: You mentioned to me once that your favorite food growing up was more influenced by your Southern mom. Is that still true, or have you begun to explore your father's Nigerian cuisine, too?

C: Oops, I answered this above. But now I can appreciate it more (Nigerian).When my father died and all these relatives were coming, I had to find a Nigerian restaurant to cater [the funeral]. I wish there were better and more Nigerian restaurants in Chicago. It turned out okay, however, and the cousins were pleased. Will I have a dinner party with it? Probably not. But it's simple comfort food.

H: When you talked about all of the foods that you loved growing up, you used the word "stereotypical" to describe them. This makes me think of that Dave Chappelle sketch where he says he's afraid to eat fried chicken in public because it means he's "living up to the stereotype". But shit, my mom's family is Southern too - I loved eating all that good shit growing up, and I'm white. I also grew up poor. Do you think that black people are reluctant to identify with those foods because they are "black" foods or because they're "poor folks'" foods?

C: That’s more of a class thing than a race thing. I find at least in my world. A lot of people who become enlightened or educated move away from these foods. The big thing I see is the rejection of pork. I love my pork. But for dietary, health, or religious [reasons] I see a lot moving away from it. I also see a lot of vegetarians out there. There’s this cool place called Soul Vegetarian in Chicago. I mean we as a race have higher incidents of heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, etc. So these changes are good on the whole. But once in awhile is good. We are a rich race which can draw on so many culinary influences (Latin, Caribbean, Creole, etc.) Fried chicken isn’t my first choice in favorites. I love it but prefer other things. I find it comical how my boyfriend embraces it. He has a colleague that’s envious that he eats Harold’s, as the colleagues don’t have the guts to visit one. Do I fry chicken myself? Rarely. This brings to mind a Jewish friend who "introduced" me to the best ribs on the South Side: Lems. This so-called Ivy League liberal was appalled I had never heard of this famous place and couldn’t find my way driving to it. Then he always wanted to go there and it got on my nerves. Like all black people eat BBQ ribs, chicken, and watermelon. Some of us do, and some other races too, but don’t assume it. Patronizing liberal people like that get on my nerves like those fake Gluten Free people bug you!

H: It find it ironic that a Jew recommended a rib joint named after a Hebrew name that means "belonging to God". Anyways, I can relate to what you said about continuing to eat foods that are sort of reminiscent of harder times (like neck bones, chitlins, etc.), because I still love a pot of just regular white beans cooked with a ham hock, or S.O.S. (that's "shit on a shingle", for those of you who didn't have military parents), etc. This attitude towards the "nasty bits" is a very French one and is enjoying a resurgence in popularity. How does that make you feel?

C: I never knew that honestly about the Lem’s part. Funny! I crack up about the “nasty bits”. Especially watching Top Chef and they have ‘Offal’ challenges. I was thinking about this pork belly rage. Kind of reminds me just some fat back or slab bacon. I worked in a restaurant once when the chef's amuse bouche was essentially some fat back sliced paper thin with some glaze or something. We have a cafeteria at work. I always chuckle because they actually serve neckbones some days. It’s funny to see the non-black visitors on those days and if they eat it or not. As for the black staff, half opt for a salad. There was this one white guy, a contractor that wasn’t ashamed to eat them and was sucking off the meat, much to the horror of his other white colleague. Must have been a Southern guy.

H: LOL, yeah pork is hell of trendy right now. So, you have a German boyfriend. Does he ever cook German foods, or request that you cook German food? (My dad's family is German and I identify most as a sausage-and-cheese-eating German girl.)

C: Yes. I learned some stuff from his mother. He loves his pork loin roasted on a bed of salt. I started making sausages with the KitchenAid he gave me. He loves his meat and starch. Ironically, he loves Asian too. Especially the noodle dishes. Once a year we visit all the extended relatives on my mother’s side for JULY 4^TH. He loves the food. Maybe German and Soul Food have many similarities.

H: Does Black History Month even mean anything to you, or is it just some bullshit "holiday" that white people made up 'cuz they feel bad about slavery/MLK assassination/the past 200 years in general/etc.? Why do black people only get one month? What type of shit is that? (Editor's note: a quick wiki reveals that BHM was actually established by black Americans in 1976. My bad.)

C: Honestly, I never gave it much thought until I started working for the company I worked for. It’s an all-black company. It’s important for sure. Especially for the young or adults that may not have grown up knowing their history. I love history because there is always so much more to learn. And that shouldn’t be limited to just one month. It’s like only having Valentines Day to show your love. Ridiculous.

H: Word. As a black woman, Obama or Clinton in '08? I know that doesn't have anything to do with food, I'm just interested.

C: OBAMA!!! I love him. I can relate to him with the African father and mother who died of ovarian cancer (like mine). Plus he’s my neighbor. I used to attend the health club he goes to,and I can say he’s the most gracious, real person. Always pleasant. I remember when he was just a State Senator here in Chicago when I first moved. Like I said, always pleasant. I was one of the few blacks that never got on that Clinton bandwagon. That’s me. It seemed all their friends were going down as they brushed the dirt off and rose higher. Patronizing liberals. That’s just my opinion and it’s supposedly a free country!

H: It totally is a free country, or I’d have been stoned to death by now. If you could come over to my house for dinner right now, what would you like me to cook for you?

C: That pulled pork you had on your blog this week.

Then I was gonna cook the dish she chose, but it hadn’t occurred to me that she was gonna say something I had already blogged. So I made up a dish for her. It’s exotic, yet down-to-earth. It’s east-meets-west-meets-north-meets-south. Courtney calls it Nouvelle Soul (I’m totally stealing that, btw).

“Coco” Chowder

This is corn chowder with coho salmon and coconut milk, spiced up with galangal and star anise. Corn’s sweetness pairs wonderfully with salmon. Serves 4-6.

2 tbsp butter
1 tsp olive oil
2 oz salt pork (or 2 slices bacon)
1 celery rib,diced
½ jalapeño, seeded and minced
½ c red onion, diced
¾-1 lb. waxy potatoes (I used Russian banana fingerlings), diced
1 c frozen corn
1 can creamed corn
1 c coconut milk
3.5 c seafood stock (I used homemade crawfish stock from the freezer)
2 bay leaves
½ tsp grated fresh galangal (ginger is an acceptable substitute)
3 star anise pods
2 tbsp basil chiffonade
8 oz. coho salmon fillet, skinned and deboned
S&P to taste
Garnish: arugula chiffonade or chopped cilantro

In a large, heavy-bottomed pot melt the butter over medium-high. Add the olive oil to prevent the butter from browning, and add the salt pork. Let the pork render for a minute, then add the celery, jalapeño and onion. Toss in a pinch of salt so the mirepoix sweats (we don’t want browning here).

Add the potatoes and frozen corn, and stir to coat with the buttery pork fat. Add the creamed corn, coconut milk and stock, the bay leaves and the star anise. Simmer over medium-low until the potatoes are tender, ~20 minutes.

When the potatoes are nice and tender, turn off the heat and remove the bay leaves and star anise. Slice the salmon into bite-sized pieces and add to the soup with the basil. The latent heat from the soup will cook the salmon.

Pairs well with a nice tart Reisling.

What the Phở?

I am on a bit of a soup kick, I guess. I had a pound of thinly sliced eye of round in the fridge, and I didn't really feel like Korean or Japanese (I had yakiniku for lunch the other day, and that really sits with you). So tonight I made big bowls of phở for the hubz and myself. Btw, it's pronounced "fuh?" not "faux" - the intonation indicated by the squiggly on top of the 'o' makes the sound lilt upwards at the end, resembling a question. I only speak a few words of Vietnamese, but this I know.

Phở is so incredibly easy to make. I was able to take the lazy way out, since I already had veal demi in the freezer. (I'd normally save this for something special, but the beef stock I have has red wine in it. Also, remember the name of my blog.) There are some regional variations in the way the broth is flavored, but we're generally talking about stock made of oxtails steeped with garlic, charred ginger, star anise, cinnamon stick, clove and a bouquet garni that may or may not include a bit of lemongrass. Add raw thinly sliced beef, chewy rice noodles and a handful of bean sprouts, cilantro, basil and sliced chile, a squirt of fish sauce and lime juice, and we're talkin' phở shizzle.


Phở bò (Vietnamese beef noodle soup)
Serves 2 or 3

Broth
6 cups oxtail, beef or veal stock (from scratch is the best!)
1 bouquet garni
1 small shallot, sliced
1 2" piece of ginger, charred on stove
2 cloves garlic
3 star anise pods
1 3" cinnamon stick
3 or 4 cloves
1 tsp peppercorns
some squirts of fish sauce
1 tbsp sugar
salt to taste

Simmer broth gently for an hour or more, adding water as necessary to prevent broth from reducing too much. You should end up with 4 or 5 cups of broth at the end. Strain boiling-hot broth into bowls that contain:

rice noodles, cooked al dente
raw thinly sliced beef, such as eye of round or brisket

The meat and noodles will come up to proper doneness in the hot broth.

Serve with:
bean sprouts
fresh cilantro and basil (Thai basil, if you can get it)
lime wedges
sliced chiles
hoisin sauce
cock sauce (that bottled red sriracha stuff with the rooster on it)

I like to pile all the garnish on top for extra flavor and crunch, and I love to hit it with a bunch of cock sauce and hoisin. The people in Vietnamese restaurants probably think that I'm totally white trash for doing that, but I eat eggs with ketchup, too, so maybe I am.

Banh Hoi Bo La Lop

Tonight I made some awesome (though somewhat unbefitting a cold, wet December evening) banh hoi bo lan lop (Vietnamese grilled beef lettuce wraps) for dinner. These fit nicely into my diet menu, with only 280 calories for 5 rolls' worth of meat, lettuce, fresh cilantro, basil and cucumber, all dipped in that unctuous nước chấm that I love so much. I based the recipe on my interpretation of Tanh Dinh's salad rolls (where Scott and I ate a coupla weeks ago). You can wrap these in rice papers for a higher level of authenticity, but I don't think it's totally necessary. Served with rice noodles (in the wrap or on the side), it's a complete meal.

Banh Hoi Bo La Lop (serves 2)

8 oz beef eye of round, thinly sliced
2 tsp rice wine (sake works)
2 tsp fish sauce or soy sauce
1 tbsp chili paste (such as sambal oelek)
1/4 tsp. sesame oil (I used black sesame oil)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp grated ginger
1 tbsp minced shallot
1 green onion, thinly sliced
pinch S&P
10 lettuce leaves (I like butter or bibb the best, but romaine or iceberg are fine)
1 cup do chua* (pickled shredded carrot and daikon)
1/2 c thinly sliced cucumber
few sprigs basil
few sprigs cilantro
I guess some fresh lime if you like
1 cup nước chấm for dipping (recipe follows)

*(Do chua can be found in a SE Asian grocery that has a deli. Otherwise, you can either use un-pickled shredded carrot and daikon, or pickle your own in rice vinegar, a pinch of salt and a pinch of sugar. It prolly takes a coupla days in the fridge. This will also go on the banh mi I plan to make later this week.)

Mix rice wine, fish (or soy) sauce, chili paste, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, shallot, green onion and S&P in a bowl and marinate the beef for at least 20 minutes.

(I added a sprinkle of black sesame seed for flair.)

Whilst you're marinading the beef, wash the lettuce leaves and make nước chấm.

Nước chấm (pronounced "nook chom")

1/2 c fish sauce
juice from half a lime or 2 tsp rice vinegar
1 tsp grated carrot
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp chili paste
2 tbsp water

Stir until sugar is dissolved. You can add chopped peanut if you want, but that shit's got a lot of calories, and beef's got plenty of protein.

After the beef is nice and marinate-y, throw it onto a hot grill pan and cook for like 30 seconds on each side. This cut gets tough if overcooked, so go ahead and live on the edge: eat it medium-rare.

To serve, arrange everything on a platter and eat by placing beef, cukes, herbs and do chua into lettuce leaf and roll the it up into a little salad roll. Dip in nước chấm. Curl toes.

Disclaimer: I AM A WHITE GIRL. Please, if something is unauthentic, lemme know! I want to learn from you. I love Asian people! Let's be BFFs.

Paper Chef 25

Wow, I am so excited to enter the world of Paper Chef! (link at Tomatilla! on my sidebar). This friendly little competition among food bloggers is just the type of thing to get me through the busy harvest season and the damp winter that follows. This is how it (usually) works: once a month on a Friday, 3 ingredients are revealed and by the following Wednesday you must incorporate those ingredients into a dish and then blog it. (This will also give me a much-needed kick in the ass to keep my blog current.)

This month's ingredients are: eggplant, chili peppers, smoked swordfish (or other smoked fish if you can't obtain smoked swordfish, or other smoked food if you can't hang with seafood), and this week a fourth ingredient was added: something you already have in your house. This month's theme was "Home."

To me, home-style foods are usually of the soup, chowder, or stew variety. This is also poor folks' food, which is what I grew up eating. As an adult, I've found ways to class-up the food my mom prepared while attempting to make ends meet. I still think the reason Scott proposed to me is that he could taste the home-made chicken stock in my corn chowder (he denies this, but I believe the old adage holds true).

And so, for my inaugural entry into Paper Chef, I present to you:

Smoky Green Curry Seafood Chowder

Ingredients (broken out into steps of prep):
1 medium-sized Asian eggplant*, mandolined or sliced very thin (on the bias)
2 c chopped fresh tomatoes (canned would work in a pinch if drained)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced*
3 small, mild green chilis such as fresh pepperoncini*
1 small onion, diced
1 shallot, minced (about 3 tbsp)
3 or 4 cloves garlic, minced
3" piece of ginger (the younger the better), julienned
1/2 c chopped baby haricots verts (or other tender green bean)

1 tsp coriander seed
1/2 tsp caraway seed
1/2 tsp cumin seed
1/4 tsp garam masala
coupla fat pinches kosher salt
6 or 7 cracks pepper

5 c fumet or fish stock*
3 or 4 squirts fish sauce (nam pla)
1 can (13.5 oz) coconut milk
1 cup chopped fresh basil (reserve a few sprigs for garnish)
1/2 c chopped fresh cilantro, stems and all (reserve a few sprigs for garnish)
1/2 tsp red chili flake (I like the Korean kind, which is a little sweeter)
juice and zest from half a lime

1 tin (3.66 oz) smoked mussels*, drained
1 lb mild white fish fillets (such as halibut, flounder, tilapia, etc.), cut into bite-sized cubes
8 baby octopus or squid, cleaned, tentacles left whole and bodies cut into bite-sized pieces
12 or 15 medium-sized prawns (~8 oz), peeled and deveined with tails intact

*These are the key ingredients of this week. For the "something you already have", I used fumet (see the "We Went to the Beach and Shit" post for the story of my shitload of fumet).

Heat oven to 350F. Spread thinly-sliced eggplant in a single layer on two lightly-oiled cookie sheets (or on a silpat on top of the cookie sheet). Spread tomatoes into glass or ceramic baking dish in an even layer. Roast eggplant for 15 minutes until browned and a bit crispy. Peel eggplant off while still hot and set aside. Roast toms for an additional 15 minutes (30 minutes total) until slightly browned, sticky and slumpy. You can kick the heat up a bit after the eggplant comes out if you want to expedite this step.

In a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Saute the jalapenos, pepperoncini, onions, shallots, garlic, ginger and haricots verts for 5 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon (important utensil for home cooking). While this is happening, heat a small pan over medium heat and toast the coriander, caraway and cumin seed until fragrant. Remove from heat and grind in mortar and pestle or spice grinder until you get a fine powder. Add ground spices and garam masala to sauteeing veg, and add salt and pepper.

When veg is beginning to get a little golden, add fumet, fish sauce and coconut milk. Drop heat to medium-low and stir. Add basil, coriander, chili flake and the lime zest/juice. Simmer for like 10 minutes. Add the eggplant and tomatoes, smoked mussels and the fish, and simmer another 10 minutes or so, until the veg is al dente and the fish is looking opaque. Avoid stirring too much here so you don't break up the fish. Add the octopus and prawns, and turn off the heat. The latent heat will cook the octopus and prawns without overdoing it.

Ladle into warm bowls and top with sprigs of basil and cilantro (or chop the sprigs up and sprinkle on top). Serve with crusty baguette (not as weird as you'd think; since Vietnam was colonized by the French they learned some nice baking skills from them). Enjoy with a nice Pinot Gris (we have great ones in Oregon), which compliments the seafood and cuts the spiciness.