a guest post for With Food + Love

September 10, 2014 41 Comments

We’re back! As of an hour ago, Bowl #2 and I are back in our Brooklyn nook, a little tanner, a lot rounder, kind of sleepy, and trying to remember what it’s like to be hungry.

Before I go nap off our red-eye, I just wanted to drop in a little hello and a note that I have a guest post up this morning on With Food + Love! Sherrie’s blog is a gorgeous and inspiring take on vegetarian, gluten-free eating, and I’m so excited and honored to be able to contribute something today (especially as a gluten-ful omnivore!)

When it comes to tofu, I’m generally not persuaded by it unless it’s the chewy dried version that crops up in stirfries and savory braised meat dishes (or, if my dad is involved, eaten plain out of the package). But when Bowl #2’s mother introduced me to this banchan last fall – incidentally, on our last trip to visit his family almost exactly a year ago – I was totally smitten, even despite my textural bias. The tofu is pressed with paper towels to remove moisture, then briefly panfried to add a touch of crisp, and finished by braising in an intensely flavored soy sauce and sesame oil mixture, punctuated by bright scallions, garlic, and a touch of red pepper. It’s vegan, and if you use tamari, gluten-free – more importantly, it’s just really good. Hop on over to Sherrie’s blog for the recipe!

And now it’s time for a nap! Hope you’re all having lovely Wednesdays!

Kimchi & bulgogi nachos

August 26, 2014 46 Comments

So here’s what happens when you live with someone who is usually indifferent to food. You’ll go for weeks racking your brain for what to make for dinner or what to post on your blog, procrastinating at work by making lists and going down Pinterest rabbit holes, feeling generally uninspired … and then one day, as you’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll pipe up casually with something like, “Hey … what about bulgogi nachos?” And then you won’t go to bed for another 20 minutes (while he falls asleep right after) and you’ll spend about 10 seconds of that thinking why didn’t I think of that! and the other 19 minutes and 50 seconds contemplating whether making nachos at 1 AM on a Wednesday is a normal and worthy endeavor.

And then, as soon as you can (though maybe not at 1 AM), you make them and post about them. Because dude, bulgogi nachos. With kimchi, and plenty of melted cheese, and a pile of spicy greens on top? Perfection. Of course, Korean Mexican fusion is nothing new, and it receives a healthy share of ire as the poster child (it seems) of what people perceive as unnecessary fusion cuisines, but I really feel like it works here. The well-salted tortilla chips are a fantastic balance to the savory-sweet beef bulgogi, and the tang from the kimchi helps liven up those otherwise heavy flavors. And anyone who’s been here in Cambridge knows that there’s nothing closer to heaven than a healthy pile of melted mozzarella on tender Asian-marinated beef.

The best part is that I’m not the only one feeling the need to put Asian food on nachos this week (which is how you know you’re onto something!) because Steph at I Am a Food Blog put a California roll all on tortilla chips and it looks so, so good. Can I just start a diet where I eat only things on nachos? I feel nothing but good things and low cholesterol can come of this.

Grilled peach & burrata salad

August 7, 2014 78 Comments

The first time I had burrata was just a few months ago, at this little shindig. It was served over stone fruit in a salad that inspired this one, and it blew my mind. Burrata is like a present but the present is wrapped in a present — it’s more like two cheeses in one, a thin, supple pouch of fresh mozzarella that holds soft, creamy ricotta-like curds in its hollow belly. The contrast in textures fascinated me, and since then, it’s been on my list of foods to experiment with at home.

So a week or so ago I picked up two snowy-white specimens from Murray’s Cheese to take home with me. One I cut up and tossed with penne, tomatoes, & basil for a simple but so satisfying dinner (the creamy insides melt into the best sauce!), and the other I used in this grilled peach salad, a humble take on what we had at Sensi in May. I feel like this salad embodies everything a summer salad should be — fresh and sweet, a little bit decadent, and full of vibrant yet uncomplicated flavors. Grilling the peaches lends an extra smoky sweetness to them, perfect for those few that are a little less ripe than their friends, and the bite from the arugula and the pungent balsamic glaze help balance out the richness of the peaches and ~~cream~~ burrata. To top it all off I added a little bit of caramelized onions, just because caramelized onions make everything better.

Potstickers, three ways, for Verily Magazine

July 10, 2014 52 Comments

According to my mother, ours is a wonton household. I grew up watching my parents deftly fold armies of plump little wonton soldiers at the kitchen table, watching my mother boil plate after plate of them, slurping copious bowls of soup, and, if I was lucky, crunching into a panful of fried wontons on a special occasion. But when it came to dumplings, our consumption was mainly of the frozen variety — bought in bulk and boiled or pan-fried by my dad on weekend lunch duty. (The other two members of the rotation were ramen and Papa John’s. In other words, weekend lunches were the best.)

So, when I set out to make dumplings from scratch last year, I didn’t have a whole lot of experience behind me. But it turns out they’re delightful. The dough is simplicity at its best, and I find the pleating miles easier than the flip-and-twist-and-seal dance that wontons call for. I think they’d be perfect for an afternoon when you have a little extra time on your hands, or a DIY dinner party (which, I guess, is why dumpling parties are a thing). You can find my take on potstickers, plus recipes for three different fillings, over at Verily Magazine this morning. Hope you’re all having lovely weeks!

Chamchi kimbap

June 4, 2014 44 Comments

It’s Bowl #2’s birthday today! Hip hip hooray!

Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed this year, because our recent life whirlwind bit me in the butt and I didn’t have anything particularly special planned for him – unlike last year’s Hawaii food–stravaganza. It’s particularly tragic because my man has been so downright amazing lately — powering through my brother’s visit, an estrogen-packed few days in Vegas, and an apartment move (hyper-organized and virtually stress-free, all thanks to him). On top of that, he’s been absolutely slammed with work. To say he’s been a trooper and the best fiance a girl could ask for is a gross understatement.

Luckily (or, even luckier) for me and my lack of birthday planning, Bowl #2 is low-maintenance, especially when it comes to food. In a sharp and somewhat baffling contrast to me (indiscriminate gluttony personified) he has about six edibles and potables that he’s wild about:

Beer.
Spicy ahi poke.
Bacon, scrambled eggs & rice. (Every single time I make this he says, “This looks amazing!” like I just whipped up a tower of soufflés.)
Kimchi fried rice. (In fact, kimchi anything.)
Pizza.
And lastly … chamchi kimbap.

Farro & asparagus salad with sesame-miso dressing

May 28, 2014 64 Comments

After such a long and lingering winter this year, it feels like this late, coy spring is hurtling into summer faster than I can keep up with. One moment it was snowing in April, a perpetual winter, a movie on pause, and the next it was everything at once — an 80-degree Memorial Day, violently green foliage everywhere we look, another year’s worth of friends getting illustrious degrees, my brother finishing his freshman year and coming to visit New York for the first time. A wedding venue booked (!), a date set, a trip to Vegas to celebrate some amazing friends. Our first New York lease on the cusp of expiring, an apartment move next weekend.

With the whirlwind of things that have been happening lately, this past long weekend could not have been more welcome. There were things to do, but spread out over three days instead of two, it gave us the chance to take a couple much-needed deep breaths, pump the brakes a little, and relax. We took a break from packing to watch Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing, which appealed to every sentimental whim of my English major heart; we enjoyed our favorite things about this creaky “has character” apartment in our last weekend before the move, like the green-tinged, dappled sunlight that filters lazily through our vine-covered balcony in the early afternoons. (And the in-apartment washer-dryer. We’ll miss you, world’s oldest and smallest washer and dryer. You may have been highly inefficient, you may have threatened to explode, but you were in our apartment.)

Pimento cheese

May 21, 2014 61 Comments

I have kind of a funny relationship with the South. I spent most of my childhood in the land of sweet tea and fried chicken, but while living there, I don’t know if I would have ever identified as “Southern.” There are some ways in which the South and I just didn’t really get along, and when I left, I figured I’d head out and not look back. In that funny twisty-turny way that life likes to go, though, since leaving for the Tundra I’ve come to appreciate the South in ways I didn’t anticipate. I’ve found that there are a lot of things I’ve come to miss, a lot of things that I’ve brought with me, many of which I didn’t even know were Southern until I left.

Like the word “poot.” Y’all, somebody just pooted.*

*I am alarmed by some of the Urban Dictionary definitions of this word. No, guys, it just means fart.

And, more relevantly, pimento cheese. It’s no secret that the one thing I’ve had no trouble embracing about my quasi-heritage is the cuisine. Batter it and fry it, dump a pound of sugar in it, extra mayo, extra butter, please and thank you. When it came to pimento cheese, though, I didn’t even know it was a thing that was Southern, and not merely ubiquitous. Until my first summer in New York, where I got hit with a sudden craving for a plain old pimento cheese sandwich on white bread — simple enough, until I spent literally hours combing the lower part of Manhattan for a store that sold it. I was baffled. And then informed by Google and Wikipedia (my most reliable sources of information) that it is “a common food preparation in the Southern United States.” Um. The entirety of the rest of the United States was a food desert.

I kid. (Partially.) But I mean, cheese and mayo? And not only that, but creamy, just barely pungent extra sharp cheddar, paired with the sweet tang of rosy pimiento peppers and a touch of heat from a pinch of cayenne, and married with mayonnaise? From my perspective, that seems like a recipe for culinary ubiquity however you slice it. There’s still hardly anything I’d want more than cold pimento cheese and a sleeve of Ritz crackers on a hot picnic day.

Steamed buns, three ways

May 16, 2014 31 Comments

Back when I lived in Boston, I used to catch a bus to New York on weekends that let off at the corner of 34th and 8th. Just near there, squeezed between a Wendy’s and a Burger King, there was a tiny no-name bakery (unless it was called “$5 lunch & dinner,” which was the only sign I could see) that sold some of the tastiest steamed buns I’ve ever had in New York — enormous, fluffy, snow white, and just a couple bucks apiece. For a time, every return trip from New York found me clutching at least two (or three, or four) of those buns, tucked neatly in their wax paper jackets, for the ride back.

As a full-time New Yorker (and Brooklyner) nowadays, I don’t have much occasion to be in that area anymore. But the awesome thing about these buns is that they’re actually pretty simple (albeit a little time-consuming) to make on your own. My version is up on Food52 today, with a couple of incarnations included for red bean steamed buns, pork & vegetable, and my absolute favorite, shengjian bao, or panfried pork steamed buns. Which is fitting, since they’re a Shanghainese specialty (though I actually didn’t know that it was until I was raving to my dad about how much I loved them recently. Let’s call that being unconsciously Shanghainese, not being uninformed-ly Shanghainese.)

You can check out the recipe(s) here. (Or, if you’re feeling extra badass, check out this breakfast-sandwich-meets-SJB lovechild that only The Molly Yeh could dream up — bacon & egg shengjian bao. Oh yeah.) Happy Friday!

BBQ pork pineapple buns, and happy news

March 31, 2014 117 Comments

A few weeks ago, I posted some teeny pies with a dollop of vague, cryptic dazed-happy-whirlwind news on the side. The news was … as some of you dear friends guessed … that we’re engaged! The Two Red Bowls are getting married!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

(Also, yes, I got him a ring too. The party line is that it’s egalitarian and modern, but really, I was just impatient and love buying shiny presents.)

I really wanted to think of a food for this post that meant something to B2 and me. And ideally something that would go in the two red bowls that started this whole blog off. Then, after Mandy posted these incredible pineapple buns, it came to me — BBQ pork pineapple buns, as inspired by Tim Ho Wan. And now I will tell you a long and hopefully not boring story about us, our bowls, and where these buns fit in. You can go to sleep and wake up at the end for the recipe, I won’t mind.

Bowl #2 says his first impression of me was in one of our first classes in law school. Some of our professors have a lovely tradition of “cold-calling,” or calling on students at random to answer questions instead of asking for volunteers. Some people handle this process with grace and dignity. Others, like me, black out in terror and lose their handle on the English language. So Bowl #2’s recollection was something like this: “Oh, yeah, I noticed you really early. You were that girl who got cold-called first that day. And I remember thinking, boy, she looks scared sh*tless.” The first time he told me this, I fluffed up like a vain little bird in anticipation of what he’d say and then deflated somewhat suddenly.

That actually has nothing to do with Tim Ho Wan, I just think it’s funny. We were friends for most of law school, and didn’t begin dating until just before the beginning of our third year — or, right before a semester where I’d be studying abroad in Hong Kong. (Impeccable timing.) Long-distance relationships are always crazy fun (sarcasm) but never more fun than when they start that way, so it was a little bit of an uncertain time for us, with a few ups and downs.

Bowl #2 came to visit me about halfway through the semester. We did a whole lot of eating, but for only being in Hong Kong two weeks, I took him to Tim Ho Wan an embarrassing number of times, always for these baked buns. They’re the love child of two of Hong Kong’s best treasures — their famous pineapple buns, sweet and pillow-soft rolls with a crisp, sugary crust baked on top, and their char siu baked buns, rolls with juicy, sweet and savory caramelized roasted pork chopped up and tucked inside. We had an inappropriate number of these — and at a time where things were falling into place, and where what we were was becoming clearer and steadier and more and more wonderful. So I think they’ve come to represent a time that was truly special to us.

Mashed potatoes with sage brown butter

March 5, 2014 78 Comments

So this may seem odd, given my great and well-documented love for Southern comfort food, but I’m not usually the biggest fan of mashed potatoes. To me they’re like the vanilla extract of side dishes — potentially delicious, but usually in need of a partner.

When I was a kid, my dad used to drive me to KFC as a treat once in awhile after piano lessons or swim practices. Man, I got all up in that meal. Two piece meal, all legs, Original, mashed potatoes and coleslaw, please, thank you. But I’m pretty sure I spent half my time (after tearing into those Original chicken legs like a starved shipwreck survivor) trying to figure out how to make those mashed potatoes more palatable. Leftover fried chicken bits mixed in? Spread thick on a biscuit? With … the coleslaw? (I wish I could say I didn’t try that, but I did. … And I liked it.) However you slice it, the mashed potatoes were the one thing on that plate I didn’t devour with single-minded ferocity.

I realize I’m making it sound like I was very into my KFC experience. I was. I was very into KFC.

Anyway. I’ve come to realize that making mashed potatoes from scratch does a thing or two or trillion for them. But a few months ago, I came across these glorious-looking roasted garlic smashed potatoes on The Baker Chick, and that was a real game-changer.

First, this salt potato thing is genius. Boil the potatoes in well-salted water, pasta-style, and the result is a flavorful skin and a creamier potato. Smash it all up with butter and milk, leaving the skins ~~because you’re lazy~~ because they’re nutritious and have fiber and such. Then, add to that a couple of cloves of golden fried garlic. (That should have been one awesome head of roasted garlic, but I got impatient.) Finally, throw in one pan of sage leaves crisped up in brown butter? It turns out mashed potatoes can do the damn thing all on their own after all.

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