I have been seriously craving hamburgers lately. Not the cutely compressed, miniature snack-cum-calorie-whoppers wrapped in grease-blotched paper, but the mean, towering, impressive type stuffed with fixins’ that might come with a steak knife at the side. Oddly, though, I was craving the whole big sandwich affair more so than meat, and wondered if that could be sated without.
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A touch of spice makes everything nice. That, and a lightly fried egg whose richness bathes everything in sticky bliss. The prongs of your fork will be cloying this substance, well after you’re done eating and trying to rinse it free. It doesn’t take much to make one simple brunch so memorable, and linger on in your tastebuds, if not also your silverware.
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Here’s my new take on a standard beef stir-fry with vegetables over rice. I like to use a good cut of good, grass-fed beef to its fullest, and I love the tenderness of a rare-cooked steak, whose drooling juices contribute to the rich flavors of ample marbling (aka fat). Here, I’ve taken a decent cut (sirloin) of really good, pastured beef and added one other benefit: a light marinade for flavor and texture, in the style of a Chinese stir-fry.
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It’s been a while since I’ve written a “Reason of the Month” post on this blog. The reason for that has sadly been a multitude of other commitments in my life. But it’s not such a sad thing, you see; being committed is something to be supremely proud of and excited by. And everybody has their own share of commitments, whether it’s to their job or their God. For two whole years, I was committed to a set of self-imposed rules that led me into the kitchen every day, for my health and sustenance as much as the bedroom or bathroom provided those necessary routines. (Isn’t it ironic that the room we could most easily live without is the “living room”?) I decided to cook instead of take-out or eat out for a prolonged period of time, and kept at it for the sake of commitment.
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There’s nothing like a good game of culinary caper. Here, the winter squash known for its strand-like striations once cooked has stolen the role of thin glass noodles in a Sichuan-style spicy dressing. The squash is orange, rather than glisteningly clear, but since it’s drenched in chili-laced oil and fermented bean paste, you might still mistake it for the former ingredient if you weren’t paying much attention. And then — yuk yuk yuk — bite into the salad, to find a hidden sweetness laying just underneath its vivid layers of flavor.
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Oh my gosh, the winter farmers market is getting smaller by the minute. There is barely any seasonal produce besides root vegetables and maple syrup. This, most post-jogging, baby-strolling, dog-walking, casually-shopping New Yorkers might assume, is not the greatest time to be scoping out the goods from the farmers’ bins. But actually, the scant selection of local produce makes me hungry to dig deeper into each one. And heck, I have more time than ever to do so without the distraction of squash blossoms. Here, I’ve explored a few types of potatoes, which of all things are flourishing in multiple shapes, colors and variety — yes, right now, in the dearth of mid-winter’s dullness.
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Nutty, buttery, sweet, earthy — sunchokes are a singular tuber that is best when focused on alone. Like a fine wine that ought not be paired with red meats or aged cheeses, this one is delicate enough to miss the nuances of if you blink — and that would be a shame. So I thought I’d showcase its true colors in a velvety-smooth, simple soup.
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Love is hard. It requires a lot of work, patience, and determination. So is rendering a whole, fresh artichoke into some palatable form. But when you really work at it, give it your best, the artichoke can be a delicious surprise — much more than edible, it’s a tiny miracle of complexity and unique charm. So is a relationship after it’s weathered a few storms. Once you peel back all the fuss and layers of each, you’ll find that all that really matters is in the heart.
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When the raindrops of storm Nemo turned to icy sleet, then light, puffy snow at an increasing speed, I knew that it was the perfect time to hole up in the kitchen and cook something good. I was expecting a long, drawn-out affair once I’d decided on kimchi jigae, a homestyle Korean dish. This versatile stew features kimchi in a bubbling pot with great hunks of tofu, often soft mounds of potatoes, sometimes mushrooms, sometimes eggs, and it’s usually simmered with pork. But if you leave out the pork for a Buddha-friendly rendition, as I did, then I guess this is one of the fastest stews in the world to make. It was ready well before the sun set, and as the flurries piled up to soft mountains of snow, the warm, pungent aroma of kimchi broth infused the whole night.
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I brought these black radishes home from the market for the precise reason that they were so difficult to love. Do you have a friend or family member like that, who constantly seems to wage war with you in a bet to lose your loyalty? We have relationships with food all the time, believe it or not. Maybe you’ve been having an affair with the same chicken salad sandwich from that deli for weeks, and maybe you’ve long since parted ways with kielbasa due to some dramatic falling-out; but still experience fond taste-memories about it from time to time. This post is dedicated to a newer friend, or food, of mine, which I find terribly gruff, abrasive, and, well, difficult to love.
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