Okonomiyaki

Ah...just looking at this picture makes me want to whip up another batch of okonomiyaki. What is okonomiyaki? It's a big, fat savory pancake filled with vegetables and meat. In Japan, you can go to restaurants that specialize in okonomiyaki. Each table will have a large flat grill and the pancake is made right in front of you. Lots of fun. But you can also make okonomiyaki at home. It's pretty easy—in fact, learning to say okonomiyaki is the hardest part of the dish.

Recipes will vary greatly because you can add pretty much any ingredient to the basic flour batter. But I have found that one ingredient is pretty important: nagaimo (a.k.a mountain yam).  The yam won't add any flavor at all, but it will make the pancake light and almost cake-like.  I have to warn you that nagaimo takes a little getting used to. The raw vegetable is pretty darn slimy and trying to peel it (which you must) can be a bit tricky. The Japanese really enjoy slimy vegetables (okra is another favorite) and believe their mucilaginous properties are very good for your stomach. I don't mind slimy. And all the slime will have disappeared by the time you've cooked the pancake. Another odd property of nagaimo is that when you grate it, the yam instantly turns into a snot-like gel! Just bear with it and continue to grate in a very gentle manner (I find a Microplane is great for this). Interestingly, if you just slice it into large chunks and braise it in a stew, the nagaimo has the same texture as a potato.

As a guide, click here for a very dependable recipe from Harumi Kurihara, a popular cookery writer in Japan (she's known as the Martha Stewart of Japan). Warning! The recipe calls for "taro". This is a translation mistake. What they really mean is nagaimo. You will not get the same effect using taro!

Going out to eat okonomiyaki is such a popular thing to do in Japan, many TV shows feature it in a scene or two. My favorite depiction of okonomiyaki feasting is in Kekkon Dekinai Otoko (The Man Who Wouldn't Marry). In the following clip, Abe Hiroshi demonstrates the perfect way to cook okonomiyaki.



KekkonDekinai06.2 2/4

Vivian | Myspace Video

Yotam Ottolenghi's Butternut Squash and Tahini Spread

Sometimes you read a recipe and you know instantly that it's going to be good. Like Yotam Ottolenghi's recipe for butternut squash and tahini spread. The title of the recipe says it all—the heart of the recipe is just squash, tahini and yogurt. I tried out the recipe today and the dish was fantastic, probably because I was able to get an incredibly sweet and aromatic butternut squash. That's the trick to recipes like this: very good, fresh products. Hope you try it.

For the full recipe, go to The Guardian's webpage.

Soy Sauce

I grew up using Kikkoman soy sauce and never really thought very seriously about soy sauce at all. Kikkoman seemed like a good all-purpose sauce and I used it whenever a recipe called for soy sauce regardless of what cuisine it was. But lately, I've been thinking a lot about soy sauce. Initially, I was mostly concerned with finding a sauce that didn't have sodium benzoate, a nasty preservative that's in practically everything, including liquid vitamins. But now, I'm concerned about taste. I had no idea how different soy sauces can be, from Kikkoman to Yama to Marukin.

Marukin is the one I've been using most. According to the label, it has no preservatives at all and must be kept in the fridge. It's much more salty and intense than Kikkoman so a little goes a long way.

The second soy sauce I now have is a brand called 수복표 국간장. Yup, the name of the brand is only in Korean. Strange for a soy sauce made in Los Angeles. In English, the brand name is Soo Bok. Like Marukin, there are no preservatives (again, I have to trust the label). But unlike Marukin, there's no wheat. That's really the difference between Japanese and Korean soy sauces, Japanese being a combo of soy beans and wheat, Korean being pure soy beans. 수복표 국간장 is absolutely lovely. The sauce is light and clear with a delicate, though very salty, taste. Really recommend it for all Korean food.

Of course, if you're cooking Chinese food, you really should use a Chinese soy sauce, but I haven't found a really good brand yet. Pearl River Bridge is the brand most available in the U.S., but I've never been terribly impressed by Pearl. Any recommendations out there?

What I Did For Pho

My short story "What I Did For Pho" is going to be included in an upcoming anthology. For the accompanying bio, the editor suggested I include a personal recipe for pho. Pho is the iconic noodle soup dish of Vietnam. It's true that I make pho at home, but my recipe is far from authentic and I hesitated. But what is really authentic? I've had so many phos at so many different restaurants (although sadly, never in Vietnam) and they've all tasted different. Why not include my own version?


Simple Homemade Pho

1 large beef shank (preferably from a grass-fed cow who's been treated in a humane way)

1 large stick of lemongrass

1/2 onion or three shallots

clove of garlic

a good chunk of ginger or galangal

1 lime

salt

fish sauce

Thai basil (optional)

cilantro (optional)

mint (optional)

bean sprouts (optional)

hoisin (optional)

chili sauce (optional)

Vietnamese or Thai rice noodles (often labeled as "rice stick")

Put the beef shank in a large bowl of cold water.  Let it soak for about one to two hours.  This gets some of the impurities out.

Transfer the shank into a large pot and fill with fresh cold water.  The water should completely cover the shank by at least an inch.  Bring the water to a boil.  As soon as the water boils, turn it down to a good simmer.  In about five minutes scum should start floating to the top.  Remove as much as you can with a skimmer or a spoon.  To the cooking liquid add lemongrass (if using), garlic, onion (or shallots), and ginger.  Turn the heat down to a slow, gentle simmer and cook the broth for some four hours.  Keep checking every half hour or so to make sure there's still a nice level of water in the pot.  If you need to, add more water.

After four hours, the meat should be falling off the bone.  Which is what you want.  Take the shank out of the broth and let it cool until you can touch it without burning yourself.  At this point, remove everything else, like the lemongrass, and discard.  When the beef has cooled, remove the bone and slice the beef into thin pieces. 

Meanwhile, season the broth with salt.  How much salt you'll need will depend on how much broth you have.  Start with a small amount.  Taste.  Add more if needed.  You don't want it to be too salty because you'll be adding fish sauce next, about a teaspoon.  Keep tasting and adjusting the salt and fish sauce until the broth is the way you like it.

Now for the noodles.  Rice noodles can come fully dried or partially dried.  The fully dried ones need to be soaked in water for about half an hour and then put into boiling water for about five minutes.  Cooking times for noodles vary greatly.  What I do is check the noodles every few minutes to see if they're done, usually by dipping a noodle in cold water and eating it.  The partially dried noodles need no soaking time.  A gentle dip in boiling water should do the trick.  But again, you must test the noodles as frequently as possible or you will get a mush.

To assemble, put the noodles in a warmed bowl.  Garnish with beef and any combination of bean sprouts, cilantro, Thai basil, mint, etc.  Slice the lime and squeeze lime juice into the bowl.  Add piping hot broth.  Flavor with hoisin sauce or chili sauce or both.  That's the beauty of pho—you decide how it should taste.

Mangoes

Costco had a great bargain on mangoes so I bought a pack of six. That's a lot of mangoes for our household and I was a little worried about what I'd do with them all. Instead of worrying, I decided just to plunge in, head first.

First up was a mango and banana lassi. Lassis are Indian yogurt milkshakes—great to drink with a very spicy meal. And like most milkshakes, they're very easy to make. Of course, lassis aren't really milkshakes as they're yogurt based. You can also make salty lassis as well as sweet. For the salty, just combine a cup of yogurt, salt and enough iced water to thin (this is for one person). For sweet, add about two to three tablespoons of condensed milk. For fruity, add a nice, ripe tropical fruit of two.

Next, a mango salad. I thought a simple sweet-and-sour dressing of rice vinegar, sugar and oil would be best for the fruit. Then I chopped some green onions and mangoes and added it to the mixture. For greens I used shredded red leaf lettuce and mizuna (a Japanese mustard green).

For the last of my mangoes, I made Thai sticky rice. This too was pretty simple. Just get a package of "sweet" rice (also known as glutinous rice), wash, soak for 24 hours, and steam until done. Make a sauce by combining and heating canned coconut milk (about a cup), sugar (about a third of a cup) and salt (a quarter teaspoon)—heat just until the sugar is melted. Reserve about a quarter of a cup. Put the sauce in with the rice and mix well. Then cut up mangoes, throw on top of rice, decorate with reserved sauce and voila!

Mini Food Short-story Collection

 

My mini collection of short stories is now available as an ebook. For only .99! It's for people who live and breathe food. Please check out a free sample at Smashwords. Or at Amazon.

Japanese Curry

Yes, the Japanese eat curry, but it's not like any curry you'll ever get in India or England. It's sweeter and usually thicker, more like a stew. My mom used to make Japanese curry all the time, so I never thought much about it. But lately, I've been learning a lot about Japanese curry and it's really very fascinating.

As I suspected, Japanese curry is a version of English curry. The truth is, there's no such thing as Indian curry. Curry, as most people know it, is an Anglo-Indian invention. It came to Japan around the early 1900s when Japan started modernizing. Of course, the reason they wanted to modernize was to be able to defend themselves against the European and American bullies. And they weren't going to be able to do that until they got a competitive military. And part of being competitive was beefing up its military men. Literally. They began feeding their men beef. But the men didn't like it. They'd been brought up eating fish, if they were lucky, and soy. Beef tasted foul. Smelled foul too. So how does one make beef more appetizing? The Japanese military looked towards the British navy. They fed their guys curry. What a great way to hide the stink of beef! (I have to add that I've read other versions but I think this is the right one.)

Beef, curry, and Western food soon began to spread to the populace at large. There were even restaurants dedicated to the stuff. But like the Japanese curry, all the dishes were catered specifically to Japanese palates. That's why you get the ketchup omelet rice dishes. And why Italian pasta dishes will be garnished with nori (Japanese dried seaweed). Curry, though, seems to have really won the heart of the average Japanese. I've heard that a Japanese housewife will serve curry at least once a week to her family. One of the reasons is that children really love it. I suppose it's a lot like how Italian spaghetti became so popular with American housewives.

Any Japanese housewife worth her weight in salt has her own special recipe. The basic recipe starts off with a stew made of beef, potatoes, carrots, and onions. To this a curry roux is added. Then the special secret ingredient, which can be any combination of Worcestershire sauce, pineapple juice, grated apple, cream, yogurt, etc.

The curry is served with Japanese rice and a side of Japanese pickles. The Japanese pickles really add fun. Oh—don't forget to bring the spoons in glasses of ice water. The icy spoon is supposed to make the curry less spicy.

Most housewives do not make their own roux. You can get store-bought like the S&B Golden Curry Sauce Mix (I've seen this brand in places like Safeway's and Ralph's). Using prepared roux is such a given, it'd never even occured to me to make my own. But then I found a curry roux recipe at Harris Salat's website and thought, why not?

If you're at all familiar with making roux, the recipe is very easy. You just add the curry powder to the roux with some stock. But let's face it: it's so much easier just to break off a cube of S&B and stir. I'll probably continue using S&B. The taste difference between homemade and store-bought wasn't that profound. Homemade roux resulted in a much more buttery dish, but you can always add butter. Of course, S&B contains palm oil, sugar, caramel, MSG, disodium guanylate...

Spritz Cookies

I love a good butter cookie. So pure, so delicate, so delicious. And so pretty if they're spritz cookies. I decided to make a batch late last night, and for the first time, used Rose Levy Beranbaum's recipe. Hers is very interesting because you add toasted ground almonds. This, says Rose, gives the cookies a very tender texture. And you don't have to use as much sugar. Having let my butter warm up for two hours (which I almost never do), the batter was really easy to whip up. And the cookies were not just more delicate, but had more flavor because of that toasted almond goodness. If you'd like to try her recipe out, just click here and I'll direct you to the LA Times website where they've archived it.

BTW, my recipe came from Rose's Christmas Cookies. For some reason, I have an autographed copy and was delighted to find out that she'd lovingly signed her name in both red and green colors!

Chong's Sesame Oil

My discovery of the year is Chong's Sesame Oil. Made fresh in a tiny little storefront in L.A.'s Koreatown, the oil is absolutely fantastic! I had no idea fresh sesame oil could taste so alive. No hint of rancidity at all. Available in a variety of sizes, Chong's comes in both light and dark.  The small 16 ounce bottle of light is $10, which is a bargain.

I've heard that you can get Chong's to mail the oils to you, but I haven't tried it. If you're in L.A., just go to their store in Koreatown, although finding the store is a bit tricky because the store is on the phantom 8th street. Phantom 8th street, you ask? Yes. Because, it turns out that there are two 8th streets: the main 8th street and a tiny side street that parallels it for about a hundred feet which is also called 8th street. Chong's is on that parallel side street.

Chong's Grocery
3560 W 8th Street
LA 90005
213 387 0651

BTW, according to the Korean spelling, the store should really be called Jeong's Grocery. Just saying.

Goguma (Korean Sweet Potato) Cake

Goguma cake is something you often see at Korean cafes but I've never seen a recipe for it. (Of course, I've only been searching English language sites—there must be some very good ones on the Korean language ones.) Undeterred, I decided to MacGyver up a recipe. I mean, how hard could it be? After all, gogumas, or Korean sweet potatoes, aren't too far off from bananas, so wouldn't a banana cake recipe work just as well? After some research, I had a hunch that the most workable banana cake recipe would be Martha Adams's version in Cooking From Quilt Country. It uses cake flour and turns out a very light, wonderful cake.

Of course, I ended up having to substitute more than just the bananas—I didn't have buttermilk. But lack of buttermilk is never a deal-breaker. I've always found that a combo of yogurt and half-and-half does a pretty good job as a buttermilk sub, and those two things were luckily in the fridge. Now the only difficulty in making this cake is that you have to have precooked gogumas. I had some leftover from a couple of days before, and really, it was trying to figure out what to do with it that led me to making this cake.

In case you've never eaten a Korean (or Japanese) sweet potato, let me warn you that it is very different from American red sweet potatoes (sometimes called yams). A goguma's flesh is light golden and its sweetness is more delicate, less in-your-face. And there's a natural buttery richness so that if you simply roast one, you can eat it plain. Fantastic as part of a tempura platter too.

Another warning: this cake recipe is a bit more involved than a banana cake recipe because you need to put the cooked goguma through a sieve (chinoise) otherwise you just end up with too much fiber in the cake.

So, here we go!

Adapted from Cooking From Quilt Country by Marcia Adams

Goguma Cake

2/3 cup of butter
1 cup sugar
3 eggs at room temperature
2 1/4 cups of sifted cake flour
1 1/4 teaspoons of baking powder
1 1/4 teaspoons of baking soda
1 1/4 teaspoons of salt
2/3 cup of buttermilk at room temperature (or a combination of plain yogurt and milk or half-and-half)
1 1/4 cups goguma, cooked, mashed, and sieved
2/3 cup of chopped walnuts

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Cream the butter and sugar until fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well. Sift the dry ingredients together. Add a third to the butter mixture and beat. Then add a third of the buttermilk (or sub) and beat. Then a third of the dry, then a third of the wet, etc. Add walnuts, mix, put in a pan (I used a brownie pan but you can use two cake pans) and bake.

In a brownie pan, the cake should take about thirty minutes, depending on your oven. You want to keep the cake pretty light and tender, so check after twenty. I always use a cake tester. Of course, you are perfectly free to frost the cake if you wish (any type of frosting will do), but I like mine with just a dusting of powdered sugar.

Celery

 

Celery is one of those vegetables that doesn't really get my imagination going. It's a nice vegetable and pretty critical as part of a mirepoix, but on its own? I suppose this is why there are so few recipes where celery takes center stage. Italians braise it in stock for a long time and that's really good. And I have a dish I make that's beef and celery stewed together for about half an hour (I got that recipe from the back of a Campbell's soup can because what makes the dish is cream of mushroom soup). And, of course, sliced celery is very nice in creamy salads. But what else? I was wondering that when I was browsing a Gary Rhodes' cookbook and I found a very interesting cooked celery dish. It's kind of a warm Waldorf salad because it uses the classic combo of celery, apples, and walnuts. But there's no mayonnaise, just a little bit of butter for enrichment. All you have to do is wash and peel the celery (to get rid of the strings which can be hard to eat), blanch it in boiling water for three minutes, fry some cut-up apples in oil until browned, throw in the blanched and drained celery, and add the butter and walnuts. Some salt and pepper too. It's a nice, light dish. I made it a little bit more savory by garnishing the dish with some thinly sliced Pecorino cheese (best done with a vegetable peeler).

How did it taste? I'd give it a solid B.

Carrot And Ginger Soup

When we were living in New York, we'd sometimes go to E.A.T. for lunch. I always found the restaurant too expensive for what you got, but I did love their carrot soup, which was just so amazingly fresh and concentrated. Now whenever I make carrot soup, I try to emulate E.A.T.'s version. The key, I've found, is to use water, not stock. Stock just muddies the taste. By using water, you get this amazingly fresh carrot flavor. This is a super easy recipe.

About a dozen carrots, peeled and cut into smallish pieces
A tiny clove of garlic, peeled and smashed (use side of knife or bottom of glass)
A chunk of ginger about an inch long, peeled, cut up and smashed (smash same way as garlic)
Water
Pinch of ground cumin (optional, but nice to add because cumin has an incredible affinity for carrots)
Salt and pepper

Put the carrots, garlic and ginger in a pot. Add water--but only enough to just cover the carrots. What you want is a very thick, concentrated, bright orange soup. Cook until the carrots are tender (10-15 minutes). Add ground cumin (if using). Then blend using an immersion blender. If the soup is too thick for you, feel free to add more water. Now adjust the taste with salt and pepper.

My Dilemma With Trader Joe's

This is pretty simple. I'm just mystified that some of Trader Joe's products are so good and some are so bad. Like their avocados—always ripen to a lovely creamy consistency. Or their frozen chocolate croissants which you bake at home—turns your home into a bakery. So why are their cheese so bad? Their "Parmesan" is horrendous. Their Monterey Jack doesn't even melt. And their frozen ethnic foods, like the gyozas, have the consistency of wet cardboard. But great apple juice.

My Dilemma With Whole Foods

My dilemma with Whole Foods? They're just weird. Like they've got stuff I really like to buy, but the shopping experience is just so confusing. Like sometimes the meat you get at the counter is really fresh and sometimes it's really not fresh. Like I'm at the produce section and they've got all this stuff with scanner codes but no prices. So finally, I ask a staff guy what's with the veggies with no prices? I'm assuming since they have scanner codes, there must be a scanner somewhere? Like where is it? So the guy says, "Well what do you need the price of?" And I'm like, no—week after week this happens—where's the scanner? Do you guys even have one? So the guy finally gets it and says, "Yeah. I'll show you." And then he take me to the tiniest computer behind some mushrooms and I say, "Uh—don't you think you guys should have a big sign so we can find this scanner?" And he looks at me like, "Why?" Shopping rage. I'm getting a headache just retelling this story.

Coming next, my dilemma with Trader Joe's.

Kitchen Shears

Kitchen shears. Not a very romantic topic, but what in the kitchen is? Kitchen shears are pretty important though. I find it impossible to operate in the kitchen without them, especially in the age of over-packaging. A good pair of kitchen shears will cut through any plastic, no matter how tough, break cleanly through chicken bones, chop up herbs, cut raw bacon better than a knife, etc. On the other hand, a bad pair of kitchen shears will only enhance wrap rage. I had a bad pair; I used them for over ten years. When they finally came apart, I decided I wouldn't buy another pair until I'd done tons of research. Which is how I found my way to Shun Kitchen Shears. As sharp as any pair of shears I've ever had, and built to last, I now cannot live without them. It even comes with screwdriver blades, which I thought I would never use, but I actually did yesterday, tightening the screw on my cheap Ikea pot lid.