Tue 02.05.08

The End is Near

I found this on Serious Eats today. Basically, South Korea, in what must be an attempt to usurp the US as the nation with the most ridiculous fast food culture, now has a soda cup with a built-in "chicken caddy" so you can eat your chicken nuggets and drink your coke out of the same receptacle.

Just imagine if you had one of those KFC bowls in one of these...

Link at Serious Eats.

Wed 12.10.08

Meatloaf

I do love the meatloaf.

My mother prepared meatloaf often when I was pretty young but quit by the time I was nine or ten, for which she now blames the picky tongues of her children. I don't quite remember it like that, and at any rate, I certainly can't picture myself turning away a plate of meatloaf these days. There's just something so uniquely American about it, like a bastardized version of a terrine or a mousse, topped with a ketchup glaze.

My ideal meatloaf is one that is moist, meaty, and with a nice crust of caramelized ketchup. The fad nowadays seems to be eliminating the filler of bread crumbs and adding gelatin to give the loaf a softer mouth-feel. After trying this a few times, I'm not really convinced. For one, I happen to like the idea of adding bread to extend the amount of meat you use, and further, I like the flavor a sourdough or rye bread can give the loaf. And I'll admit the gelatin does yield a softer, finer texture, but frankly I'm not sure how desirable this is. I prefer meatloaf with a meatier texture, provided of course that it is still moist.

So for my meatloaf, I like to use a mix of beef, pork and lamb. Typically, pre-mixed "meatloaf mix" uses veal in lieu of the lamb, but I just happen to like the flavor of lamb. You do lose some of the tenderness the veal provides -- this can be compensated by using a fattier cut of beef like chuck. I like lots of sweated vegetables keep everything nice and moist, and lots of grated horseradish give the loaf its distinctive (in my mind) flavor. In order to maximize the crust-to-interior ratio, I am definitely of the impression that a free-form loaf beats one cooked in a loaf pan.

Of course, the best thing about meatloaf might be the leftovers, which are good cold, and especially so in a sandwich, smeared with some mayo and more grated horseradish. Luckily, it's just as easy to make a big meatloaf as it is a small one.

Mon 12.01.08

Fried Rice, Dad-approved

My parents are no slouches in the kitchen. Looking back, the meals my brothers and I had growing up were quite a motley bunch. Most often, as is de rigeur in Vietnamese cooking, we'd share among ourselves a variety of dishes - usually some sautéed greens, something stir-fried, and some soup - all accompanied by a lots of steamed rice. But after living in Texas for a while, my parents also developed a penchant for Creole food, and I think ours was the only table in town that saw rau muon alongside fish court-bouillon, or canh chua one night and crawfish étoufée the next. And of course, other American staples crept in. We had our fair share of meatloaf.

While my mom would prepare most meals, on some weekends or special occasions my dad would take to the kitchen, usually cooking larger cuts of meat like steaks or roasted chicken or lamb. It was somewhat of a big deal when this would happen, though in all honesty I most looked forward to the next morning, when my dad would take the leftovers and make fried rice.

Ok, fried rice. I've eaten and prepared lots of fried rice vastly inferior to my dad's, but I think I've gotten a handle on it now. You just need to keep in mind a few key principles.

First, simpler is better. Seriously. It is tempting to start adding in some garlic, and then some ginger, and then some carrots, and then some peas, and then before you know it you have a big mushy mess. No no no. Fried rice is for (deliciously) extending and using up leftovers. The only things going in that aren't already cooked are onions and eggs. Sometimes shallots. Maybe scallions.

Second, you must use leftover rice. The rice is only briefly fried on very high heat, so it must be cooked through and cooled so it dries out a little and firms up. Freshly cooked rice will turn to mush. If you're without leftover rice, you'll have to make some rice now and wait until tomorrow.

Third, cook it under the highest heat, with your biggest wok or pan. Don't overload the pan -- too much rice and the parts not in contact with the pan start to steam, resulting in mushy rice. Because the pan is screaming hot, you have to constantly be tossing the rice to keep it from burning, so it's much easier to cook in something really big. The amount of rice you cook at a time should depend on the size of the pan.

Finally, a generous amount of black or (preferably) white pepper is a nice touch. It should be added at the very end or even after the rice is plated, so the heat of the rice will draw out the aroma at its peak just as the rice is served.

I made this batch of fried rice last time I was in Houston visiting my parents. We didn't have a leftover roast this time, but rather some fried tofu that had been made with mushrooms and ground pork. I thought it turned out well, though I would have preferred to eat this with an accompaniment of do chua, pickled vegetables which add a nice crunch and sourness. But my dad had some and gave it his approval, which is good enough for me.

Sat 11.22.08

Happy Thanksgiving!

Tue 10.21.08

Last Kiss of Summer

Summer's gone. Hello autumn.

I guess it's officially been fall for several weeks already, but it's been hard to tell judging from the offerings at the farm stand. Peppers, eggplant, zucchini, and tomatoes abounded even into early October, doing their best to distract from the wearisome reality that the days are getting shorter, colder and grayer. And, I have to say, the produce were all in very fine form that late -- the corn and tomatoes of a couple weeks ago were still spectacular, at least as sweet as those in August. Next year I'll know to wait until just after the hottest days are over before gobbling down every tomato in sight.

So I guess that was the first tomato lesson learned this summer. The second is that tomatoes + butter = awesome. Indescribably so. My lunch of choice this summer was definitely the open-faced tomato and butter sandwich, with a good pinch of salt (and, on occasion, some raw garlic rubbed into the bread), seen above. Likewise, I've been adding butter, sometimes in lieu of olive oil, in everything tomato-related from pasta pommodoro, tomato soup, tomato salad. I'm sure I'll go through a olive-oil-tomato phase again soon enough, but the lactic richness of butter complements the fruity, acidic sweetness of a ripe tomato in a very special way. It really gives the tomato something to cut through, in mouth-feel and in flavor, whereas olive oil plays along much more congruously. So, it was one fixation of the summer.

But no more. This weekend the farmer's market featured a variety of hard squashes, dried corn, and pomegranates, a sure sign that fall is here. Which is all well and good, but the thought of waiting another nine months for fresh tomatoes is leaving me peevish. Add the impending cold and I can feel myself getting more ornery by the day. Maybe since I grew up in Texas, I just don't have the constitution for sub-50 degree weather for extended periods of time. I mean, I'm going to have to wear a jacket everywhere I go until March! March! In a few months, I'm probably going to be just intolerable to be around.

Three things keeping my spirits up until then, when winter inevitably breaks me: 1) the aforementioned pomegranates, 2) Thanksgiving in Texas, and 3) PIE.