Foodie and the Feast

What I miss most about California (and a BIG update)

Well.. I am still suffering from post-Thanksgiving lethargy and bloat. I saw on Oprah that people gain ONE pound on average during the holidays. Only one pound? I haven't been on a scale yet out of sheer fear, but I am sure that the slight uncomfortable tightness that comes from my jeans indicate more than a one-pound gain. But what else are you supposed to do during the holidays? Not eat? I don't think so!

So, flying back to Northern California was nice over the holidays. I don't really consider NorCal my home -- LA and Korea will always be my home and the bay area will never really ever take its place. But I was still excited about going back.  Maybe I've only been in New York for  only 3 months  so I haven't really discovered  even the tip of the iceberg yet -- but there is a lot I miss about the bay area and in particular, Berkeley. The food is cheaper and might I say tastier. The dearth of good restaurants around Columbia is really starting to annoy me. But I am not discouraged. I am sure if I look hard enough, I will be able to find a salad that is as fresh and bountiful as the salad at Cafe Intermezzos and with all the 4-star restaurants here in New York, I am sure I can find a restaurant that I will love and revere as much as Chez Panisse. There is one thing that New York will never be able to replace and that is In N Out. Its become somewhat of a tradition for Al and I to have In N Out as our last meal before we fly out of California:

That is In N out fries animal-style and cheeseburgers animal-style for you. I'm sure the burgers here in New York here are fabulous (some that I've had are) and I like to say that the burgers that I make are pretty tasty also -- but nothign can replace In N Out. Fast food just does not get any better than this. Look at the juicy tomato, grilled onions and crisp lettuce thats in that burger. The patty is moist and cooked to perfection. And in terms of corporate social responsibility In N Out is everything that Micky D's is not.  In  N Out --  I miss you!

I enjoyed Thanksgiving. Two years ago, when I hosted for 15 people I was slightly stressed (but still having a lot of fun). This year, my mother-in-law handled everything like a pro and I was able to mostly relax and help out a little bit here and there. I even made the stuffing from scratch without a proper recipe and trussed the turkey -- how chef-ly is that? My most proud creation, however, was my platter:

For somebody that doesn't really consider myself artistic, I thought this platter looked really... pretty. I followed Barefoot's principles to a tee -- huge blocks of color, soft cheese and hard cheese, etc. I wish I had some lemon leaves.. but I still thought it came out pretty good.  It was impressive enough that people didn't really touch it in the beginning -- so I decided to get the ball rolling my planting myself next to the platter and helping myself, which turned out to be not a good idea with such a big dinner to come.

And here comes the big update... I've decided to quit my current job. I've lasted all of.. six weeks at the job. I've had people trying to convince me that I should stick with it longer and give it a chance. I agreed at first. I mean, how lame is it to quit after a month? But after six weeks I've realized that this job was slowly sucking the life out of me. The work itself was just really boring and it was making me dumber and dumber everyday.  So I quit.  Is it scary? Yes!  I feel like I've failed in many different ways -- how could I have been so wrong in terms of choosing a career? I've never hated anything so much in my life -- how could I let myself choose something that I hated so much? But I think I made the correct and courageous decision to quit and not waste my time doing something that I dislike so much. I'm interviewing for some other jobs and am in the running for a job that I would enjoy very much, but I'm still waiting.  And while I wait.. I will finally have time  to cook again.. and that makes me very happy. Seriously.

5 Things That I Would Rather Eat Than Turkey on Thanksgiving

1. Kalbi (Korean BBQ)

There is one thing that I can confidently claim that I make the best and that is kalbi or korean bbq. I use an old family recipe and I never measure. It is one of those things that I've grown very comfortable making and I know will be a guaranteed winner. I put in soy sauce, onions, a lot of garlic, sugar, sesame oil, mirin, red wine (or any kind of korean alcohol) and pears into a food processor and whirl it around. I marinate the short ribs for at least a couple days. I always try to keep some marinated meat in the fridge or the freezer so I can eat it whenever I want. Whenever I was growing up, it was always a special-occasion food but now that I'm supposedley an adult I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want, right?

2.Mac and Cheese

I'm still in the pursuit for the perfect mac & cheese - and I still haven't found it, but this is a very good alternative to make at home. I got it from Barefoot Contessa (where else). You make a classic bechamel sauce and mix in gruyere and sharp cheedar cheese off the heat. Salt it very well and mix in your macaroni. Top with some tomatoes and some fresh bread crumbs and cook. Its very good -- and if I had used a better cheese it might've tasted better. I keep thinking it needs something special to spruce it up -- perhaps it is because I did have a truffle mac and cheese once and that flavor is not something that I can forget. But who can afford to shave truffles in their mac and cheese all the time?

3. Mushroom Lasagna

This is the first recipe I made out of Barefoot's new cookbook. Ricotta cheese has never been my favorite cheese and it is one reason why I am always reluctant to eat most lasagnas. When I ran across this vegetarian recipe (something that I am always interested in) with no ricotta cheese I was intrigued. Again you start with your regular bechamel sauce and some roasted portabella mushrooms. You layer the sauce, mushrroms and parmesean cheese with the lasagna pasta. The ending result is something that tastes suprisingly clean (considering you use the white sauce) and earthy (from the mushrooms). Next time I would consider roasting the mushrooms with some rosemary to give it a more earthy feel, but I think the minimal use of cheese lightens up the dish a lot. It tastes pretty healthful although I am sure that it is not. (Anything that starts with a stick of butter is never healthy)

4. A Lobster Roll from Pearl Oyster Bar

Al and I are always asking each other what our favorite restaurant in New York is so far. I always answer Pearl Oyster Bar. I can practically taste the plump, fresh lobster meat as I type.

5. In n Out

Ever since I've moved back to New York In n Out is the one thing I miss the most (among many others). You can say all you want about a New York burger but nothing can beat In N Out? Do you not know what it is? Its a fast food chain mainly on the west coast and the burger has fresh patties, crisp lettuce, juicy tomatos and savory grilled onions. Ain't your Micky Ds, thats for sure. Now that I am back in California for Thanksgiving, I plan on making a couple stops and getting my In N Out fix while I'm here.

I love Thanksgiving. I love stuffing. I even get excited about the big dang turkey. Two years ago, when I hosted a dinner for 20 people, I brined the turkey, slathered it with maple syrup and roasted the bird and got an excellently juicy turkey. The thing is -- turkey is turkey. You may remember that I don't like poultry all too much, so a dinner that is centered around a 15 pound bird... there are so many other things that could taste better. But alas, tradition is tradition, and if I were to host again, I would never swap out turkey for lobster roll. But one can dream, right?

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

Korean Comfort Food - Gahm Mi Oak

If somebody asks me what my favorite cuisine is, I will always answer: Korean Food. It is what I grew up with and I take great pride in the complexity of the cuisine. There is one restaurant on K-block (w 32nd St between Broadway and 5th) that I will never ever get sick of. It is a restaurant that I think of when I am having a difficult day at work or when I am crammed inside the subway pushed up against door. Their menu is not extensive - in fact it all fits on two separate corners of the placemat which does double-duty as their menu. They do not have the charcoal pits at each table where you can cook kalbi or bulgogi (korean bbq). But they have the chicken soup of my childhood -- sul lung tang. You use beef bones to make the broth, and you add slices of beef brisket, rice and some noodles. Simple enough -- but nobody makes sul lung tang as flavorfoll as gahm mi oak. Here is the sign of the door, since the english on it isn't too prominent.

The second most famous thing after sul lung tang at gahm mi oak is the kimchi. I tend to be very skeptical of restaurant kimchi or mass-produced kimchi -- you just can't beat the effort and the labor that people put into their home-made kimchi. I think my grandmother's kimchi is the best in the world  -- and I have yet to taste anything that is even close to tasting as good as hers. Gahm mi oak kimchi is at the very top among restaurant kimchi and it comes pretty darn close to home-made kimchi. They bring it to you like this:

And they cut it up for you at your table:

It is just right in terms of ripeness, it tastes fresh and it is seasoned well. I really hate kimchi that is too spicy -- but this kimchi has just the appropriate amount of punch. If they sold their kimchi separately, I would go twice a week and buy some from them. It is that good. 

And the sul lung tang, the reason why we're here:

Sul lung tang never comes out seasoned for you. There is always salt, pepper and green onions at your table and you add them to your liking. I take one bite and I'm immediately transported to all the days I was sick and my mom would bring me a piping hot bowl of sul lung tang to make me feel better. This is my comfort food, and for that, Gahm mi oak is my favorite restaurant on K-block

A new hors d'oeuvres discovery: curry chicken salad.

With marriage comes responsibility. Being on a budget is very responsible. A dislike for chicken is not conducive to being budget-conscious. Chicken is cheaper than beef -- therefore I should just suck it up and start cooking more chicken in my meals. My mom does not like chicken and she never cooked it. The only chicken that I ever enjoyed was Popeye's. Why the hate for chicken? My mom has her own reasons, but for me -- most of the time chicken dries out too easily and I've probably never had tasty, juicy chicken to convince me otherwise. Ina says that roasting chicken on the bone with the skin is the best way to get moist chicken. Taking her cue, I decided to use her chicken curry recipe and finally embark on my journey of cooking with chicken.

Here is the roasted chicken. You rub the breasts with oil and season with salt and pepper and roast it in a 350 degree oven for about 40 minutes:

You let it rest for a bit and when its cool enough to handle, you discard the skin and remove the bones. Or  you can be like me and slightly burn your fingers in the process. Dice the sucker up into bite sized pieces and set it aside. In the food processor whirl around some mayo, white wine, mango chutney, curry powder, champagne vinegar (my little touch) and salt. Toss the chicken in your sauce and mix with raisins, celery and scallions and you got your curry chicken salad. The curry flavor is subtle and the mango chutney and scallions give it a kick. As Al and I sampled the salad, we debated how this would work into a meal. I'm against anything mayo-based being the main course, and it is a bit odd to have something with chicken in it as a side. In a stroke of genius, I figured that the salad piled up onto a toasted garlic crostini would make it an excellent hors d'oeuvres -- the garlic flavor would round out the whole combination perfectly. Now, who can spell hors d'oeuvres without having to look it up everytime?

Battle with Puff Pastry

It probably all went wrong when I decided to defrost the puff pastry on the counter instead of overnight in the fridge. On TV, you see chefs/cooks exclaim the wonders that is puff pastry! Its delicious, its convenient and so easy to use! The box says that you can defrost on the counter for 40 minutes. The box lies -- you end up with a pastry that breaks apart into thirds along the fold creases. You end up with a pastry that is really difficult to roll in a uniform way. You end up with some ugly puff pastry.

But ugly can sometimes be translated into "rustic" in the puff pastry world. And this was my saving grace tonight. I've come to realize that I don't know of any vegetarian dishes that can truly stand alone as an entree. I did a search on Epicurious. All the vegeterian dishes were side dishes. If I were to invite a vegeterian friend over and I gave them a heaping bowl of sauteed spinach and garlic -- I don't think they would be too happy. (Or would they????) Anyhow, I finally found this gem of a recipe. The phyllo sheets gives it a nice touch -- that extra special something. I didn't want to deal with the phyllo sheets, mainly because my pastry brush decided to disappear. So, I decided to use the puff pastry.

Here, you sautee your onions, eggplants, garlic, stewed tomatoes and chickpeas with a bay leaf:

After you're done, sprinkle the parsley and get ready to tackle the dough. I have to admit, I didn't really understand what the recipe was trying to say. So I figured my own way to deal with the puff pastry. After some trial and error, I figured that it was easiest to cut the dough into squares into about 4x4. I rolled out the dough to stretch it out a bit and make the square a bit bigger. Pile on your fillings in the middle of your square. Take some eggwash and wet the edges of the square. With one hand hold on to the two corners that are facing each other diagonally and with your other hand crimp each end. You want to leave the middle part open. This will in no way look perfect and it even might look ugly in its pre-baked form. Once you put your pastry in the oven, the dough will puff up, and all your imperfections will be masked -- in the end you'll have a beautiful, rustic-lookin, open crossaint-looking, entree-worthy vegeterian dish on your plate. Bon appetit!

Sunday Morning.

One of the things I've looked forward to the most about living in New York was the season of fall. You don't really experience autumn in California. The indian summer lasts well into October, and then one day the rain begins, and the rain pours and pours until spring comes around. The leaves don't have a chance to turn colors -- the rain just washes them away. I wanted to see foliage and breathe in crisp autumn air. Today, Al and I woke up early to go to church right by Time Warner Center. After a remarkably rejuvenating sermon, we stepped out and walked through Central Park. I was in heels, so of course I wimped out and had to stop after a little while, but for the few steps I did take, I was grateful and really happy to be in New York. We headed back to Bouchon Bakery after our short walk to pick  up a few things for us to eat. All the tables by the bakery were full so we took the escalators down to the seating area next to Whole Foods. Inspired by the cool weather, I decided to pick up a bowl of creamy wild mushroom soup. Here is our spread:

The tuna nicoise at Bouchon Bakery is one of the best tuna sandwiches you'll ever have. If you eat at the actual cafe there, it'll be open-faced and look more fancy, but seriously, the one where you just buy at the bakery tastes just as good -- and you'll save a few bucks also. The ham and cheese is delicious, simple and clean. When you have good ingredients you dont need to do much.

The soup from Whole Foods was good, but not stellar. I'm still amazed at how crowded Whole Foods at the Time Warner Center gets sometimes. In Berkeley, you have so many grocery shopping options, with the Berkeley Bowl reigning supreme -- Whole Foods is just not that big of a deal. After watching Al slurp the soup up, I declared, "I bet I can make it better!" With a hint of skepticism he answered, "really?"

"Really."

We finished our meal, and started to head back home. Mondays are always met with fear, dread and disdain. But, after the great morning that I had.. maybe, jsut maybe, Monday won't be so bad.

Spaghetti and Meaaaatballs

Have you ever been so hungry and desperate for food that as soon as you come home you eat the first thing you see.. even if that first thing ain't so appetizing? I started feeling a bit hungry a couple hours before I got off of work. By the time I stepped on the subway, it turned into a growl and the hunger started to consume me. As soon as I walked in the door, I made a beeline for the first edible item I saw -- some leftover rice and chicken on a plate. Might I add.. it was the leftover rice and chicken on the plate that Al was eating off of last night. I know.. ew.... gross.. but I was hungry! After watching me throw down a couple bites, a slightly disgusted Al wrestled the fork out of my hands and said, "I was going to throw that away." I shrugged my shoulders, a little happier for having momentarily taken the edge off my hunger. I knew it would come roaring back, so I decided to make something that I've never eatan before in my 23 years of life... spaghetti and meatballs.

Am I for real? Have I never had spaghetti and meatballs before? Until now, they never seemed that appealing to me -- its a ball of ground meat. But at that very moment, a ball of ground rubber would've tasted good. I had all the makings for some good meatballs, so I got started.

You combine ground beef, pork and veal with some fresh bread crumbs (I cheated and used the dry Japanese bread crumbs), parsley, egg, salt, nutmeg and warm water. I was careful not to mush all the meat together. You make them into little balls and brown them in a lot of oil in your skillet:

You remove the meatballs, discard the oil and make your basic spaghetti sauce. I don't know where I got this from, but I always use onions and garlic for the base, deglaze with some white wine, and pour the crushed tomatoes. Sometimes I add some stock (if I have some around) and I add whatever herbs I have around -- this time it was thyme. Finally, you transfer the meatballs back in and let it simmer on very low heat for 25 minutes. At this point I was about to die:

For a painstaking 25 minutes I waited for the meatballs to cook through.  Once they were done I piled my plate up with the pasta and savored the moment.  The meatballs were moist and flavorful, and there is nothing like a heaping bowl of pasta to fill you up. After I was done and fully satisfied I finally had the brain power to really think about my current job situation. I'm at the end of my first 2 weeks right now and I am really not enjoying it at all.  I do think I should give it more time and see if I do like it, but as of now, it's not looking too good. I do not want to spend more than 1/3 of my day doing something that is not fun, stimulating or challenging to me.  Do I have the guts to make a dramatic change and chase my passion? I can honestly say, I don't know.   

Beef Bourguignon & Apple Crostada

I had a pretty crappy week. I started work. Those are two sentences you don't really want to see right next to each other. Sure, you have your work days that are bad and difficult, but I was extremely disappointed to find out how much I disliked what I did. I spent the week with all kinds of heavy questions such as "what do i want to do with my life?" or "what does my job or career mean to me?" I was excited for the weekend to finally roll around. I wanted to roll up my sleeves, get my hands dirty, and cook without thinking about anything else. So thats what I did.

I didn't want to make anything simple. I wanted to wash, cut, prep, brown, braise and I wanted to use the new Le Crueset dutch oven we got the night before and lugged back to the apartment in the rain. Beef Bourguignon! Its a really fancy sounding dish that sounds impressive, but its just really beef stew in red wine.

You brown the bacon and the beef chuck cubes... and you really want to brown them. I was always afraid of overcooking the meat if I browned too much until I realized how stupid that was. You brown to get the maximum flavor -- braising will slowly tenderize and break down the meat anyway.. so you really don't have to worry about overcooking anything. After browning, you remove the meat, you cook the carrots, you burn off some cognac, you add back the meat, add the wine and the stock and let it braise for awhile. Simple, easy, not challenging, a lot of busy work.. hey, its starting to sound like my job... but making fancy beef stew is infinitely more enjoyable with a much tastier result.

I don't like making desserts all that much. I have to be in a certain kind of mood to make them. They're really complicated and you always have a gazillion dishes to wash when you're done. I do, however, love making any of the Barefoot Contessa's fruit desserts that involve fruits and crisps. It isn't really something that you could easily find at a bakery or at a restaurant, they're really simple, and because of the fruit, you feel like its healthful (it's' not. the butter balances out the fruit). With my desire to do something a bit more complicated than a crisp, I decided to tackle crostadas -- something that required me to roll my own pastry dough.

I followed Ina's recipe to the tee. Once you have your dry ingredients in the mixer, she wants you to coat each cube of cold butter into the flower mixture. I did this for each cube even though I was afraid that I'd cut one of my fingers on the blade. She said pulse 12 to 15 times. I faithfully pulsed 13.5 times. I added the icy cold water and pulsed until "right before the dough comes together." What the hell is that supposed to mean? How am I supposed to know? I figured that this was good enough and started to bring the dough together in 2 round disks. After chilling for an hour, I started to roll out the dough. Sure it looked kinda funny with rough, cracked open edges in my too-small-quarter-sheet-pan, but I was pretty darn proud of myself. Besides the fact that it looked a bit ugly, it actually looked like I had made a pretty decent dough:

You pile your apple filling onto the dough and fold the edge of the dough onto your filling in a pleating pattern and there you go:

The before and after don't look that different from each other -- I should've brushed the dough with some egg wash. But besides the pasty crust that looked like it needed a tan, the crostada tasted pretty good. And this is what I made this weekend to forget about my very disappointing week at work. Hopefully, this upcoming week will be better.

It is here! barefoot is here!

I was just about to walk out the door for work this morning when I noticed a small package from Amazon. I didn't really remember ordering anything recently, so I was curious and I decided to open the package. Greeting me in shrink-wrap was a smiling Ina cutting corn off of a cob. I had pre-ordered her new cookbook months ago ... and it was here! Oh, how I wanted to just take off my coat, go back inside, make a warm cup of tea, curl up and read the cookbook cover-to-cover! But alas, the reality of work reared its fugly head, so I decided to take the book with me to work to read on the subway. I loved the introduction that Ina wrote in this book. Do you watch her show? Do you see that gorgeous house that she lives in? Well, she talks about her home and her homes of the past.

I didn't have a lot of time to really read the recipes (obviously), but the ones that stood out were the mushroom recipes and the seafood recipes. The portabello lasagna sounded killer, the wild mushroom soup sounded perfect for the cold days ahead of us and the seafood bisque looked murderous. Now, I'll go back to my job of staring at a computer the whole day while I daydream of Ina.

Honmura An

I've spent the last couple of days reading Ruth Reichl's Garlic and Sapphires. Out of all the vivid and scrumptious reviews and experiences I read about, I dog-eared one particular review and I found myself going back and reading it over and over again. She writes about her experience at Honmura An, a soba noodle restaurant in SoHo. In Korea, during the summer months, soba is an extremely popular dish. The cold soba noodles dipped into the light and yet tasty dipping sauce is the perfect and healthful way to combat the heat and humidity. It was certainly the dish that I always ordered when eating out. Most of the times, I didn't have to look at the menu -- as soon as I was seated I would bark, "Zaru Soba! And lots of ice cold water!" I've had lots of soba. I know soba. I've had good soba and bad soba. But until now, I've never had Honmura An soba.

I was enchanted by Reichl's explanation of the effort and skill that went into making soba. She writes, "...to make pure buckwheat noodles that do not shatter and crack apart requires the hand of a true master. The Japanese say it takes a year just to learn to mix the dough, another year to learn to roll it, a third to learn the correct cut. The soba chefs at Honmura An have clearly put in their time." As somebody who's had soba countless times and considers it as a comfort food, I did not know that this is how soba was made. I always pictured the dry soba noodle packages lined up at the Asian supermarkets and assumed that this is what restaurants did also. Italians make fresh pasta. Why didn't I think that the Japanese make fresh soba?

When you enter the restaurant, you're greeted with a wide staircase. At the top of the stairs you're greeted by the extremely courteous hostess and a room full of happy patrons slurping their soba noodles. Al and I get settled and we order. The food appetizers are delivered promptly.

We started out with the avacado salad. The avacados are flanked by bonito flakes, scallions, red onions and wasabi. The waitress  cautiously poured a small amount of  soy sauce on top and  we started our meal.  Every ingredient on the plate contributed to enhancing the flavor of the avacado. The soy sauce gave it its saltiness, the red onion gave it its heat, the bonito flakes gave it its flavor and the wasabi gave it its zing. And yet, in true Japanese fashion, all the different flavors were so harmonious and subtle together -- not one overpowering each other, but only enhancing each other. I also really had a hard time figureing out how they sliced the avacado. The slices as you can see, were pretty big, but they were perfect half moon shapes. Where did the pit go?

As soon as we finished the salad our next appetizer was delivered promptly. The tori dango:

These are fried ground chicken meatballs. They give you six meatballs on the plate, but Al and I were occupied with the flavor of the meatballs that I didn't remember to snap a picture until we were almost done. The texture is perfectly crispy on the outside and moist and dense in the inside. The flavor is what stood out. Al and I would chew a little bit, and look at each other and raise our eyebrows. Between swallows, we would exclaim "How did they make it taste like that?" The chicken was packed with flavor that if I didn't know it was chicken I would've thought it was beef.  The taste was extremely comforting -- I could imagine myself sitting at a table with close friends on a cold winter night catching up with each other with a plate full of tori dango in the middle of the table.

This was our last appetizer. The iso age(AH-ghee). It is prawns surrounded by soba noodles and a shiso leaf wrapped in nori which is then fried. It looks like little sushi rolls, but instead of rice you have the noodles. The green chilli pepper, which I think was supposed to be  a garnish  foreshadows the small  surprise you get  when you bite into the isoage.  As you work through all the different  textures and flavors, you taste a bold but not overpowering zing from the hot pepper. It was a unique experience, but by the time we were done with the isoage, I was waiting in anticipation for the soba to come out.

The zaru soba I was waiting for:

The noodles are served on a zaru (bamboo mat) in a lacquered tray. To the left you see the urn that holds the tsuyu, the dipping sauce that has a dashi broth as the base mixed in with soy sauce and mirin. You pour the tsuyu into the small bowl and you add the grated radish and the scallions. You add the wasabi to your tasting -- I usually add most  or all of it. Isn't this beautiful? I carefully took a small portion of the soba noodles, gently dipped them in my tsuyu and had a taste. The noodles blew my mind. I had never, in my gazillion times of having soba, tasted noodles this fresh and this alive. They were elastic and had just enough bite to it. With each bite you tasted a bit of the earth -- you embark on this journey to a buckwheat field and you can almost smell the crisp ripe harvest in the air. "What does a city girl know what a buckwheat field smells like?" you might ask. If you tasted the noodles, you would know. With each dip into the tsuyu, you could taste the subtleness of the dashi and the saltiness of the soy sauce perfectly complementing the noodles. It is the perfect autumn meal.

Love soba noodles? Go to Honmura An and experience this. Never had soba noodles in your life? Go to Honmura An and experience this. It will be amazing.