My love of food has often been surpassed by my lack of money. Good food can be costly. Not always, as buying from the bulk section of the local natural foods store usually saves a few pennies, but at times, items such as kefir lime leaves, nutritional yeast, ume plum vinegar, nori, and the like have been far beyond my price range.
In the winter of 2006 for instance, I fell in love with the Thai soup Tom Ghak Gai. Not that I minded paying $7 for a serving at my local restaurant, but when I find a new dish that illicits my affection I want to learn how to master the recipe. And so I scoured "the internets" looking for recipes that closely resembled the soup made at the very particular restaurant I frequented. I knew for a fact that the basics of the soup included: coconut milk, vegetable stock (I'm sure the soup made in the restaurant had chicken stock in it), lemongrass, cilantro, ginger, chilis, straw mushrooms and fried tofu. Some recipes didn't include the mushrooms, others didn't include the chili. Some recipes called for tamarind paste, others called for galangal (a type of thai ginger). But the one incredient that would make or break Tom Ghak Gai was kefir limes leaves. Now, at the time I was working at a natural foods store, albiet a small store but still one where I could special order exotic ingredients. The big "but" was that I couldn't order Kefir lime leaves, they just weren't available. I hunted online, Amazon Gourmet Foods offered 10 kefir lime leaves, delivered within 24hours, fresh, for about $30. I wanted the kefir lime leaves, I wanted them bad, but not that bad. I forewent the lime leaves and used lime juice and rind instead, the soup turned out pretty good.
The other foodstuff I hunted for quite some time was Marmite. I had read about it, and instantly my interest was piqued. What was this sticky black goo? As soon as I read that "some Brits are addicted to the stuff" I wanted to taste it. Absolutely no stores in my town sold Marmite, and once again, online I found that I could purchase a tiny imported bottle, but it would cost $15. So I gave up, thinking I would never get to taste the British staple. Until Thanksgiving of this year when I traveled to a town with a "World Marketplace" and was able to get a 4oz bottle for about $6. It tasted much like I thought it would, a bit like beef broth and soy sauce.
Other foods have eluded me. I have still not tried marzipan. Caviar will probably never touch my taste buds. My curiosity regarding truffles (the fungus) continues, while a flimsy wallet keeps me from these delicacies. I continue to read about and seek out new foods almost continuously. I scourge through produce isles. A trip to a new grocery store always presents new opportunities. I'm channeling a primal spirit, hunting through bulk bins and peeling back the husks of corn to get a good look at the ripe kernels. An ancient part of my psyche persists to gather ingredients, to glean from the harvest in a very modern way. I click the mouse on gourmet and import websites, surfing through pages of clearance spices. No need for travel or braving bad weather anymore. It's easier than ever to be a gourmet.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
What Couscous Can Do for You
From Wikipedia: Couscous is a food from the Magrebh of Berber origin. It consists of spherical granules made by rolling and shaping moistened semolina wheat and then coating them with finely ground wheat flour. The finished grains are about 1 mm in diameter before cooking. Traditional couscous requires considerable preparation time and is usually steamed. In many places, a more processed quick-cook couscous is available and is particularly valued for its short preparation time.
It looks like this:
From Me:
Couscous is extrememly versatile, not to mention easy to make. Couscous in the US is always prepackaged, and dried. It can be used like rice and provides a light, fluffy texture.
I personally don't like using too much wheat, but I like how fast couscous is to cook and how it absorbs surrounding flavors.
My all time favorite way to make couscous is as a breakfast porridge. This is especially good when I'm running behind on time and need to get my day started. Here's my very own, all orginial recipe:
Harvest Breakfast:
1 cup whole wheat couscous
1 can of yams with the liquid
1/2 cup soy milk
1tsp pumpkin pie spice
2tbsp cocunut flakes
a handful of dried cranberries
a sprinkling of almond slivers
Directions: Put yams and soymilk together in a pot, add spice, cranberries, coconut and almonds. Mash the yams and bring the paste to a boil. Add soymilk as needed, the mixture shouldn't be too thick. As soon as the mixture is boiling add the couscous and boil for about 1-2mins. Remove from heat and let stand with a lid for about five minutes.
That's it! Fast, delicious and nutritious.
It looks like this:
From Me:
Couscous is extrememly versatile, not to mention easy to make. Couscous in the US is always prepackaged, and dried. It can be used like rice and provides a light, fluffy texture.
I personally don't like using too much wheat, but I like how fast couscous is to cook and how it absorbs surrounding flavors.
My all time favorite way to make couscous is as a breakfast porridge. This is especially good when I'm running behind on time and need to get my day started. Here's my very own, all orginial recipe:
Harvest Breakfast:
1 cup whole wheat couscous
1 can of yams with the liquid
1/2 cup soy milk
1tsp pumpkin pie spice
2tbsp cocunut flakes
a handful of dried cranberries
a sprinkling of almond slivers
Directions: Put yams and soymilk together in a pot, add spice, cranberries, coconut and almonds. Mash the yams and bring the paste to a boil. Add soymilk as needed, the mixture shouldn't be too thick. As soon as the mixture is boiling add the couscous and boil for about 1-2mins. Remove from heat and let stand with a lid for about five minutes.
That's it! Fast, delicious and nutritious.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Coming Out
The other major thing I have to get off my chest right away is that I am vegan.
Yes.
A lot of people would think that this means my food options are limited.
Not so.
In fact, when I first went the vegetarian/vegan route three years ago, I discovered an entire universe of food I never knew about. I discovered Japanese cuisine, a dairy-free haven of delicacies. Purple broccoli, daikon radish shredded and salted, pickled plums, arame seaweed rinsed and boiled with plum vinegar, tiny white eggplants that fit in the palm of your hand.
The world is ripe with edibles, but that's not the impression you'd get from an average grocery run.
If a Martian landed in a small town in Nebraska, they'd get the idea that us Americans subsist on beef, corn and potatoes. All nutritiously lowly. And not all that delectable. The American cuisine, rife with pork tenderloin, rump roast, spaghetti and meatballs, and fried spam sandwhiches, has got to be one of the most boring dietary palettes on the planet. High fat, high sugar, high salt, but low on complex flavors.
I've gotten many a perplexed commentary on my diet. Some think it's "radical" it's "too strict" it's almost ascetic. But I sit in my corner with a big bowl of udon noodles and I laugh and laugh. Because most people eat the same thing day in and day out.
Spaghetti,
Meatloaf,
FastFood,
Pizza,
Pork Chops,
Mashed Potatoes.
Hamburgers.
That's it. Over and Over and Over. The endless cycle of boring foodstuffs.
My palette is broad and varied.
One night: lime curry, with sauteed onions, tofu and garbanzos.
The next night: purple cabbage and snow peas over teriyaki rice.
My father calls it "Vay-gun." He thinks I only eat lettuce. When I was a child my impoverished diet consisted mostly of spam, velveeta cheese, bologna and ramen noodles. "Salad" was an awful affair, something to keep you"regular." In no way was salad a delicacy in my childhood home. Usually, it was iceberg lettuce, strips of bologna and velveeta smothered in ranch dressing.
My salads are rife with dark green leaves, spinach, arugula, blanched Kale, dandelion. They consist of such goodies as golden raisins, pumpkin seeds, sundried tomatoes preserved in oil, fresh basil leaves, baked beets, sunflower seeds, baby corn, radish sprouts. They explode with earthy flavors, textures from the smooth soft beet to the crunch of seeds. My salads are extravagant, but humble. Relatively cheap to produce, and yet so packed full of vitamins and minerals I need never worry about taking supplements.
My father looks into the deep salad bowl, brimming with the aroma of orange poppy dressing. He eyes the roasted red peppers, the purple slices of onion, the flecks of almond slivers. He doesn't know what to think. This is alien to him. He's afraid he'll take a bite and actually enjoy it, enjoy it so much he'll give up his precious beef shortribs, never to return. He passes the bowl, not willing to compromise and instead laments the missing steak. I smile after the first forkful. I know what he's missing.
Yes.
A lot of people would think that this means my food options are limited.
Not so.
In fact, when I first went the vegetarian/vegan route three years ago, I discovered an entire universe of food I never knew about. I discovered Japanese cuisine, a dairy-free haven of delicacies. Purple broccoli, daikon radish shredded and salted, pickled plums, arame seaweed rinsed and boiled with plum vinegar, tiny white eggplants that fit in the palm of your hand.
The world is ripe with edibles, but that's not the impression you'd get from an average grocery run.
If a Martian landed in a small town in Nebraska, they'd get the idea that us Americans subsist on beef, corn and potatoes. All nutritiously lowly. And not all that delectable. The American cuisine, rife with pork tenderloin, rump roast, spaghetti and meatballs, and fried spam sandwhiches, has got to be one of the most boring dietary palettes on the planet. High fat, high sugar, high salt, but low on complex flavors.
I've gotten many a perplexed commentary on my diet. Some think it's "radical" it's "too strict" it's almost ascetic. But I sit in my corner with a big bowl of udon noodles and I laugh and laugh. Because most people eat the same thing day in and day out.
Spaghetti,
Meatloaf,
FastFood,
Pizza,
Pork Chops,
Mashed Potatoes.
Hamburgers.
That's it. Over and Over and Over. The endless cycle of boring foodstuffs.
My palette is broad and varied.
One night: lime curry, with sauteed onions, tofu and garbanzos.
The next night: purple cabbage and snow peas over teriyaki rice.
My father calls it "Vay-gun." He thinks I only eat lettuce. When I was a child my impoverished diet consisted mostly of spam, velveeta cheese, bologna and ramen noodles. "Salad" was an awful affair, something to keep you"regular." In no way was salad a delicacy in my childhood home. Usually, it was iceberg lettuce, strips of bologna and velveeta smothered in ranch dressing.
My salads are rife with dark green leaves, spinach, arugula, blanched Kale, dandelion. They consist of such goodies as golden raisins, pumpkin seeds, sundried tomatoes preserved in oil, fresh basil leaves, baked beets, sunflower seeds, baby corn, radish sprouts. They explode with earthy flavors, textures from the smooth soft beet to the crunch of seeds. My salads are extravagant, but humble. Relatively cheap to produce, and yet so packed full of vitamins and minerals I need never worry about taking supplements.
My father looks into the deep salad bowl, brimming with the aroma of orange poppy dressing. He eyes the roasted red peppers, the purple slices of onion, the flecks of almond slivers. He doesn't know what to think. This is alien to him. He's afraid he'll take a bite and actually enjoy it, enjoy it so much he'll give up his precious beef shortribs, never to return. He passes the bowl, not willing to compromise and instead laments the missing steak. I smile after the first forkful. I know what he's missing.
Statement of Purpose
This blog is about food.
It is about my obsession with food and food culture.
The poetry of baking,
The artistry of
The mechanics of
The chemistry of
The alchemy of
cooking not just to live,
but living to cook.
Here I will pontificate on my readings by food writers,
I will argue with myself and the world.
I don't hope to come to any conclusion, just debate
The politics of food,
The overwhelming human fear of hunger,
The American uses and abuses of food culture.
Food is life.
Heaven can be found in the pantry.
All I hope is to compose my little odes on the lima bean.
It is about my obsession with food and food culture.
The poetry of baking,
The artistry of
The mechanics of
The chemistry of
The alchemy of
cooking not just to live,
but living to cook.
Here I will pontificate on my readings by food writers,
I will argue with myself and the world.
I don't hope to come to any conclusion, just debate
The politics of food,
The overwhelming human fear of hunger,
The American uses and abuses of food culture.
Food is life.
Heaven can be found in the pantry.
All I hope is to compose my little odes on the lima bean.
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