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!
Showing posts with label Costco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Costco. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Baked Asian pears
Recently, while shopping at Costco (one of my least favorite things to do), I noticed a box of fruit labeled "Apple Pears". I, naturally, thought it was one of those weird hybrid fruits, borne out of some mad marketing scheme. But no, the "Apple Pears" were just Asian pears. Go figure. Anyway, the price was right, so I bought a box, and after eating two or three, decided to make some baked pears for a little variety.

The inspiration came from a show I saw about steamed Asian pears. This woman had cut in half this massively big pear (the size of a small watermelon), scooped out the seeds, and filled the cavity with honey, jujubes, ginkgo nuts and all sorts of goodies. I didn't have any of these things, nor did I have a steamer. So I put my halved pears into a baking dish, filled their tiny cavities with maple syrup, filled the baking dish with a little water, sprinkled some cinnamon and baked it in a 325 oven.
After about an hour and a half, I opened the oven to take the pears out and this strange thing happened to me: the warm smell of baking fruit, the steam from the oven, lifting the ceramic baking dish — I suddenly thought about baked apples, how I used to make baked apples all the time — why had I completely forgotten about baked apples — why did making baked pears seem so completely novel?
Why had I stopped making baked apples? Baked apples are fantastic. Why was no one else making baked apples? I can't remember the last time I'd read a recipe featuring baked apples. Caramel and candied apples are all over the place, but the equally good baked apples have disappeared from our collective memory (aka the media). Very strange.
The interesting thing about baked pears is how boozy the result was. I'd only added maple syrup and cinnamon, and yet, it tasted like I'd added a good quarter cup of eau de vie. Since I like boozy, the result was heaven. Or at least a little bit of heaven.
I'd give this dish a solid A.
The inspiration came from a show I saw about steamed Asian pears. This woman had cut in half this massively big pear (the size of a small watermelon), scooped out the seeds, and filled the cavity with honey, jujubes, ginkgo nuts and all sorts of goodies. I didn't have any of these things, nor did I have a steamer. So I put my halved pears into a baking dish, filled their tiny cavities with maple syrup, filled the baking dish with a little water, sprinkled some cinnamon and baked it in a 325 oven.
After about an hour and a half, I opened the oven to take the pears out and this strange thing happened to me: the warm smell of baking fruit, the steam from the oven, lifting the ceramic baking dish — I suddenly thought about baked apples, how I used to make baked apples all the time — why had I completely forgotten about baked apples — why did making baked pears seem so completely novel?
Why had I stopped making baked apples? Baked apples are fantastic. Why was no one else making baked apples? I can't remember the last time I'd read a recipe featuring baked apples. Caramel and candied apples are all over the place, but the equally good baked apples have disappeared from our collective memory (aka the media). Very strange.
The interesting thing about baked pears is how boozy the result was. I'd only added maple syrup and cinnamon, and yet, it tasted like I'd added a good quarter cup of eau de vie. Since I like boozy, the result was heaven. Or at least a little bit of heaven.
I'd give this dish a solid A.
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