No added sugar was definitely harder, both practically and emotionally, than no alcohol. Sugar is in everything, and monstrously difficult to avoid. James and I were both fully aware that we were doing this experiment due to a lifestyle choice, and not any essential dietary restriction, and so we were fairly flexible around the margins. We examined labels like hawks, but ultimately and mostly due to laziness, stopped short of traipsing to multiple supermarkets to buy no-added-sugar staples. So we still ate some added sugar in the form of wheat bread and mayonnaise. We also didn’t stop eating out. We really only eat out on the weekends anyway, and we tried our best, but we also ate what we wanted. We had one exceptional cheat meal where we got Japanese. I naively thought it would be okay – it was sushi! Raw fish and rice! Then we got a bunch of barbequed meat that came slathered in teriyaki sauce and eel rolls that came drenched in sweet eel sauce. Whoops. Asian food is basically all just a big added sugar no-no. Given all this, in practice we probably ate closer to an average of <5 grams added sugar per day. That’s sort of depressing, considering that we did try hard to adhere to the rules of the game.
I think that it took me a full 28 days before the sugar cravings stopped. I consistently thought of cake throughout the month – chocolate cake, lemon cake, ice cream cake… The cravings sort of ebbed and flowed, but I would say that it was only on the last Monday of January that I woke up and felt absolutely no desire to eat cake or drink a cocktail. It was only on that Monday that I felt that I could continue this no-added-sugar January for awhile longer. And I did! I didn’t eat any dessert for about 6 days in February. Then James and I went out for a celebratory dinner, I had cake, and BOOM – it was all over. I was back to salivating over cake, and it was like this past January never happened.
Okay – that last statement is a bit facetious. 20 days into February, I haven’t eaten any of those crappy supermarket cakes or chocolate candy bars that I love(d) so much. But I’m very aware that I’m just teetering on a sugary precipice, with only a few Reese’s peanut butter cups standing between current restraint and the sugary bonanza of my past life.
On a positive note, I am hoping some changes will stick quite easily. Plain yogurt tastes more palatable to me now than it did at the beginning of the month, especially with fruit. There are no-added sugar, or low-added sugar, versions of a lot of things, if you look hard enough. I found no-added-sugar museli (branded as Swiss museli – perhaps the Swiss don’t each much sugar?) with raisins that tastes a bit like horse food, but which is growing on me. I know which brands of breadcrumbs have more or less added sugar. I know which kinds of chicken broth have sugar and which do not.
In particular, the infamously sugary flavored yogurt world (some versions have 10 grams of added sugar per one serving!) has begun to catch onto the demand for low-added-sugar yogurts. James loves his coconut yogurts, and the transition from flavored to plain yogurt was especially painful for him. Not one to give up without a fight, however, he tried a lot of no-added-sugar yogurt products with gusto. There were the Siggi’s no-added-sugar yogurts, flavored with only fruit, that were good though sorely lacking on variety, with only two flavors – peach and mango and cinnamon and banana. He bought buckets of raspberries and blueberries to adorn plain yogurt. He tried an unsweetened dairy free yogurt made with soy milk that tasted like cardboard paste. He found a yogurt smoothie drink that boasted no added sugar, but still contained concentrated apple and mango puree (which are still added sugars!), and that, despite the fruit concentrate, still managed to taste like powdery vitamin-y liquid chemicals. In the end, the Siggi’s no-added-sugar yogurts have become a good staple, along with Chobani and Fage less-sugar-added yogurts, which have a bit of added sugar, but also a lot more variety of flavors.
This no-added-sugar diet is expensive! James and I have taken to replacing our calories from sugar with calories from nuts, and while this change is a healthy one, it is also a more expensive one. I don’t think I quite realized before how much of my diet consisted of cheap sugar fillers until now. Before, if I was still hungry after dinner, I’d just eat a couple of cookies, or a candy bar. At most expense, I would eat a fancy Magnum ice cream bar. However, even those fancy ice cream bars, which were frequently on sale, were less expensive than nuts, which were never on sale. Eating healthfully is truly a privilege that is unequally distributed among socioeconomic classes.
In conclusion, ascetic January was a success. There are changes which I hope will permanently stick – plain yogurt instead of flavored yogurt, unsweetened or low-sweetened granola. I am hoping to cut down on candy bars and sugary impulse buys.
And now, the dish of the month! A deeply flavorful, herby, fresh spin on chicken and rice that includes absolutely no added sugar! This dish is delicious, and an absolute staple in our household. I make it often, and it never disappoints. It does take a bit of time, unfortunately, but much of it is inactive. The time is worth it, and you can easily scale this recipe up for more leftovers (which just get better with time!). A few notes:
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
4-5 | 4 | 1 1/2 hours | 20 minutes | 75 minutes |
So let’s get started! January brings the inevitable new year’s resolutions and new year’s hopes. This year, James and I are embarking on a very public health-spirited exercise! We were in the UK visiting James’s family over the holidays, where we learned that his sister and her husband were planning on doing a dry January. Considering that James and I had practically bathed in mulled wine, gin and tonics, and juicy IPAs during November and December, I heartily signed us both up as well (I think James may have tried to protest at this point??). However, I then upped the ante by musing that I’d always wanted to see what would happen if I cut out all added sugars too. I freaking love baking, and I never met anything with butter and sugar that I didn’t love. I’ve been known to eat cookies for breakfast, and practically daily ice creams in the summer. If I haven’t had sugar in awhile, I crave it, very distinctly, and often in the form of a Mars bar that makes your teeth ache. I was also jealous of the positive reports from people who had cut or reduced added sugar in their diets, and I wanted to similarly recalibrate and reset my taste buds. As I was explaining this, James’s sister’s eyes lit up, and James’s parents decided to join the conversation at exactly the wrong time. And so, it was settled. James’s whole family – his parents, his sister’s family, and us – would be doing a dry, no added sugar January.
We are 13 days in, and this experiment has been FASCINATING. I have become obsessed with labels and the multiple, insidious ways that sugar sneaks in and lurks in our foods. Sugar is truly everywhere. Besides the obvious culprits (flavored yogurt, pasta sauce, ketchup, granola), there is also added sugar in Italian sausage, panko breadcrumbs, soy sauce, and most brands of mayonnaise. Dried fruit can contain added sugar. There is dextrose in packaged turkey lunchmeat. There is honey in beef broth. It’s become a game, going to the supermarket and seeing which is the most outlandish thing we can find that has added sugar.
Which is why, I am happy to report, this recipe for delicious, buttery, garlicky swordfish has absolutely no added sugar! Swordfish is not something I’ve ever cooked before, and I’ve probably eaten it a total of 5 times in my entire life. So when James suggested it at the supermarket, I thought he was being very adventurous, and I was more than a little apprehensive (also because it’s quite an expensive experiment!). But I must say – after one bite of the swordfish cooked in this easy, no-fuss recipe, I have become an ardent fan. Swordfish is a dense, meaty fish with a mild, sweet flavor. It’s been referred to as the chicken of the sea, and is accordingly versatile.
This recipe is simple, super easy, and I think really highlights the sweetness of the fish (or is that just my sugar-starved taste buds talking?!). It’s a versatile recipe as well, and I imagine you can substitute other kinds of meaty fish such as tuna, mahi-mahi, or even salmon. If you’ve never cooked swordfish before, I really recommend trying it! Look for white fillets that may be tinged pink or orange. Avoid gray looking fish. Thicker steaks are much more resistant to overcooking, so try to buy fillets that are at least one inch thick. I think swordfish has become a great addition to our seafood repertoire – it’s easy, really delicious, light, and best of all, requires no added sugar for maximum flavor!
We served the swordfish with some leftover asparagus risotto and sauteed broccoli. You could also serve this with some pesto pasta, roast potatoes, or roasted vegetables, and have dinner on the table in 30 minutes to an hour!
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
4 | 1 | 30 minutes | 10 minutes | 20 minutes |
Last week, I mentioned that I was on a family holiday with the in-laws, frolicking among fluffy sheep on the fields of England. Here are some nice pictures of us with baby animals and baby humans:
The other thing that happened was that we went to the Dartmoor Diner in Plymouth, a cozy, quaint little restaurant by the side of the road that leads into Dartmoor National Park, a windswept expanse of rolling hills, heather, and grazing farm animals. The Dartmoor Diner is amazing. It has big windows overlooking the moors, wooden tables and chairs, and, like all diners worth their muster, a counter full of desserts as big as your head by the entrance. Their desserts are no joke, and if anything are even bigger, more decadent versions of classic dinner sweet fare. As we walked past, I ogled a sky-high lemon meringue tart, a dark, thick wedge of fudgy chocolate cake, and a Maltesers pavlova brimming with candy, chocolate, and caramel. As good as the desserts looked, however, nobody even managed to get one, as we were stuffed after our meal. The Dartmoor Diner food is hearty, filling, comfort British food – full of casseroles, pies, and roast meats. Being near the ocean, there was also a substantial seafood section with fish cakes and fried shrimp.
I went for the classic fish and chips. There are foods that I absolutely must get when in certain countries, and fish and chips in Britain is one such example. This past trip, I had fish and chips twice! Now – you are thinking – the title and the pictures of this post are for moussaka. Why is this crazy lady babbling on about fish and chips?! Well, the answer is that while I was very happy with my meal, and very delicious and fresh that it was, I nevertheless suffer hopelessly from food envy, and my mother-in-law’s moussaka was singing a siren song. As good as fresh fried fish is, it is nevertheless not an ooey, gooey meat casserole. There is something endlessly comforting about a casserole in any form, with its bubbling, oozing cheese and its layers of hot, steaming, multifaceted goodness, its browned top crust and squishy interiors. It may sound crazy, but the way that my mind works is that I could not stop thinking about that moussaka! And so, as soon as I got home, as soon as I could, I made one all for myself.
Moussaka is fairly labor intensive, and requires a lot of prep and simmering. I would definitely save it for a lazy Sunday! But you can also make an incredible amount of it to eat through the week. In all my obsession about moussaka, I might have gone overboard – I made enough for four (FOUR!) meals for both James and me, and we ate it for dinner straight through from Monday to Thursday. I may have gotten my moussaka fix for the next six months. Anyway, I’m not sure that this moussaka is the most authentic, but it is a flavorful, comforting, warm blend of meat, spices, eggplant, and potato that comes out of the oven with bubbling juices and crisp, cheesy edges.
Some Notes:
I was just in the U.K. for a fabulous family holiday, and it was one of the most relaxing and peaceful vacations I’d taken in a long time! I suffer from a bit of FOMO, and on vacations tend to want to see, do, eat, play, touch, and experience everything. I sometimes forget that it’s also really nice to just while away the hours reading a book in the unseasonably warm fall sunshine and take leisurely walks to the pub down the road. And on this vacation, that was exactly what we did! We were in Devon, in the beautiful English countryside, staying in cabins in Dartmoor National Park. If you, like me, got confused and realized that you didn’t actually know what a moor is, I got you – it’s an expanse of open uncultivated land or rolling infertile land, characterized by low-growing vegetation on acidic soils. The Merriam-Webster dictionary notes that the term “moor” is “chiefly British.” Anyway, what it looks like is soft, undulating hills dotted with shrubs, heather, cows, horses, and sheep. The whole family had a taxing daily schedule of pool time in the morning, tennis before lunch, and an afternoon excursion either to the pub or one of the nearby towns, all the while stopping to say hello to the animals along the way. What an idyll!
Anyway. Back to food. If there’s one thing I love about the U.K., it’s the potatoes. I am a big potato fan. Roasted, mashed, boiled, au gratin-ed, chipped, cheese-and-onion crisped. All of it. The first time I went to the U.K. with James, I went a little overboard and actually got sick of potatoes. I know, rookie mistake. Not this time, though. And so, in honor, I bring you a recipe for herby, brothy, buttery roasted potatoes. These potatoes roast in ungodly amounts of butter, then simmer in a fragrant herb broth. They come out crisp and browned on the outside, but beautifully soft, pillowy, and – yes – melty on the inside. They are a must for every potato aficionado.
Now, these potatoes are not exactly a fast weeknight side, as they take about 45 minutes total to roast, and you have to flip and fuss with them not once, but twice over that time. They definitely aren’t a I’m-starving-and-I’m-lazy-and-I-want-to-eat-dinner-NOW kind of potato, but they are a ooh-I’m-liking-these-so-much-I’ve-almost-forgotten-how-much-time-I’ve-spent-on-them kind of potato. Besides, potatoes do take notoriously long to roast, so don’t think that you can get those delicious crispy outsides and soft, fluffy insides in 10 minutes! If you’re cooking some easy seared steak and steamed vegetables, perhaps, or if you’re looking for an alternative to french fries for a juicy burger, spend a little extra time on these potatoes – you won’t regret it!
Notes:
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
4-6 | 3 | 55 minutes | 10 minutes | 45 minutes |
We have been eating a lot of pork lately! The way I decide what to make usually goes like this… Jackie procrastinates by perusing food blogs and food magazines… Jackie is sucked in by some yummy looking food photos or tasty food description… Jackie obsesses over this recipe for the rest of the day/week until Jackie can procure the ingredients and get to cookin’… And that’s how I found myself salivating over these crispy, fatty carnitas tacos topped with spicy slaw and fresh avocado! I’ve actually made these tacos before, about three years ago, right when James and I first met. He was away in London visiting family when I made them, and I remember sending him a picture of my finished product, extraordinarily proud of the flavor and tenderness I’d coaxed from the pork meat. He sent back a sad face emoji, and some complaint along the lines of “why you making such delicious food without me?!” and I knew it was true love, because he knew that the way to my heart was endless praise of my cooking.
Now, I’ve finally gotten around to making these again, this time with James in the country, and they were every bit as good as I remember. The pork simmers down flavorful and succulent, with the citrus adding a bright, zesty zing to complement the richness of the meat. The slaw is crunchy, fresh, and spicy from the onions and serrano peppers. It’s a refreshing topping for the tacos, but I also add another scoopful as a side and eat it all on its own.
These carnitas focus on a few, quality ingredients. Use fresh everything (don’t even think about bottled lime juice), and let them cook slowly. The meat braises in the water bath to tenderize, and then, once the water cooks off, it fries in its own rendered fat, resulting in crisp, browned edges. The carnitas need a long time to cook, but other than the time factor, they are relatively hands off. The slaw is fairly easy as well (if requiring a blender or food processor), so you can easily get other Sunday jobs done while checking in on the kitchen every once in a while. You could, conceivably, even make these on a weeknight if you can get off early from work, are somehow incredibly masochistic, and don’t mind eating dinner after 8 PM. How do I know? Confession – I did exactly that. I meant to make these on Sunday, but was having too much fun, or napping too much, or went out to watch BlacKkKlansman (YES!! Please watch this movie – it’s amazing!), or… something, and didn’t manage to make any dinner that day. Oops. Anyway, this is a roundabout way of saying that I made these on a weeknight (because I could not stop my obsession – see above), but no sane person should.
However, for the chilly fall Sunday that will inevitably pop up, when the sky outside is grey and dark, these tacos will bring all the color and cheer of the tropics into your kitchen. This recipe is also great for a dinner party, as it makes a ton of tacos with relatively minimal effort from you. I’d say the carnitas recipe would make enough for at least 12 tacos, as written; I see no reason why you couldn’t also scale the recipe up. The slaw recipe will definitely provide enough slaw to dress 12 tacos, with likely also a scoop for everyone on the side. Warm some tortillas, add some avocado slices, chopped cilantro, onion, and tada! Taco parties are the best parties.
I lived in Italy for six months when I was 23 years old, because, well, Italy. I was out of college with not that many employable skills (having majored in English), and I basically decided that Italy was as good a place as any to plunk down and think about the rest of my life. I taught English in middle schools, evening classes, and corporate offices. I was in love with the country, the language, the Mediterranean sunshine, and the mountains. But of course, what I most loved was the food. I basically ate my way through Italy. I never met a pizza or a pasta I didn’t immediately scarf down. I hunted down regional specialties with eagle-eyed precision, sampling pesto in Genoa, bolognese in Bologna, granita in Sicily, and prosciutto in Parma. Probably every other day, I treated myself to a gelato – pistachio and strawberry (fragola) were my go-to’s. I dunked Mulino Bianco cookies in cappuccinos for breakfast and bought focaccia studded with salty olives and sweet onions for lunch. I discovered buffalo mozzarella and new food trends that tickled me to the core with delight – apparently, the Sicilians started the trend of eating brioche con gelato (which is basically a brioche bun stuffed with gelato) for breakfast, and I never wanted anything else with my cappuccino.
The food is ridiculous in Italy. Honestly, every trip to the supermarket felt like a culinary adventure. I would buy the pre-made, prepackaged Barilla brand raviolis in the refrigerated section, and they would taste better than any of the pastas I could remember eating in the States. Sometimes I went to people’s houses for English lessons, and sometimes they would offer me lunch – I still remember a pasta dish with soft, wilted zucchini and charred potatoes that was so simple, yet so addictive. The last time I was in Italy was probably over 10 years ago, and I am way overdue for a food tour.
The thing I love about Italian cooking is that it often focuses on only a few ingredients, and prizes quality of those ingredients above elaborate preparation or technique. What this translates to is straightforward, simple weeknight cooking! I really love this spaghetti carbonara because it is easy, yet creamy, rich, and delicious. It’s also fairly foolproof – the worse that will happen is that you might cook the eggs instead of coating the pasta with them, but apparently scrambled eggs and pasta are also a thing in Italy, and it sounds delicious to me, so I don’t think I would even mind if this happened. So go ahead – find the most gourmet pancetta, cheese, and butter you can, pour some wine, and get an Italian feast together in under 30 minutes.
We personally ate this with sautéed leeks and roasted brussels sprouts, and one of James’s old fashioneds. Time to dinner, including all sides: about 45 minutes.
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
4 | 1 | 30 minutes | 10-15 minutes | 15 minutes |
Over the last few months, three sets of friends have moved – two have bought their own places (hooray!), and one has moved to a new apartment. Moving is of course a huge hassle, but at least at the end of it it can be celebrated with housewarming parties and housewarming gifts! I am not great at housewarming gifts. I’m a huge believer in minimalism and scaling down (okay, fine, everywhere except the kitchen), and I hate extra stuff and extra clutter. Add to that my uncertain sense of other people’s styles, and I become paralyzed about choosing for someone a vase or a picture frame that they’ll never use. However, throw in my ginormously outsized confidence in my own cooking, and then it becomes only natural that I resort to food gifts! I’ve become obsessed with anything that can be jarred, bottled, or frozen and given as a gift. Y’all already know that a frozen batch of cottage pie can be a great surprise for any occasion or celebration. And while fresh food is always welcome, sometimes something that can keep, that allows the new owners to use at their own speed and their own inclination, can bring happiness for weeks or months to come.
Enter, then, this amazing, fragrant, spicy, numbing, salty, crunchy, garlicky chili crisp! I became obsessed with it the moment I saw the recipe, and it did not disappoint. The name chili crisp is important, as I don’t really know how else to describe this concoction. It’s definitely not chili oil, as the amount of delicious solid things in it is mind-boggling, and the amount of oil it calls for is actually quite minimal. It’s not a paste, and it’s not really a sauce. Maybe the closest description would be sort of an East Asian chili chutney or chili relish? It’s chock-a-block with bright red chilies, a pile of spices, and a mountain of fried shallots and garlic, all held together by a deeply flavorful oil.
This chili crisp is unbelievably delicious. I adore spicy food, and I have been eating the chili crisp with everything. I stir it into rice (plain white and fried), all sorts of noodles, pasta, couscous. I’ve eaten it on top of pizza. I’ll dollop a bit on top of plain steamed vegetables. I’ve read of commenters spreading it on bread. I might spoon it into a sandwich some day. It’s only been a week or so since I’ve made this so I haven’t even fathomed all of the possibilities.
It’s also beautifully giftable. Who doesn’t like a pretty glass jar filled with bright red chilies?
And now, an abundance of notes:
The original recipe calls for dried árbol chilies, chiles japones, and Kashmiri red chilies. I couldn’t find the latter two, so I made some substitutions. It’s totally fine to substitute whatever chilies you have or prefer. The Serious Eats website has this note about chilies and substitutions: “These chilies are all very spicy. If you’re interested in a milder condiment that’s still packed with flavor, swap in an equal amount by weight of less fiery chilies. Good options are guajillo, Aleppo, or Maras chilies.” I wanted to stay true to the original recipe, so I tried to swap in similar peppers. Essentially, the mix of chilies starts with the árbol chile, a relatively common Mexican chili pepper of medium heat that can be found dried in many supermarkets. Then, add a hotter pepper (I substituted tien tsin chile peppers for the chiles japones), and a milder, fruitier pepper (I substituted guajillo chilies for the Kashmiri chilies).
I don’t have a spice grinder (see reluctance to accumulate stuff above), and thought I could muddle through with what I had. That was… not the smartest decision. My food processor cut up the smaller, more brittle árbol chilies and tien tsin chiles okay, but it really struggled with the thicker, leathery skin of the guajillo chilies. I ended up picking out large pieces of guajillo chilie and snipping them into smaller bits by hand with scissors. Not the best use of my time.
Relatedly, I somehow didn’t see how much ground Szechuan peppecorn the recipe called for (spoiler alert: it’s a lot. It’s also what gives the chili crisp a wonderful, numbing flavor, so it should be a lot). I only had whole peppercorns, but I figured I could get by with grinding them in my manually-operated pepper grinder. Well, I filled up my entire pepper grinder and that was still not enough peppercorns. I ended up spending maybe 20 minutes hand cranking Szechuan peppecorn, and then giving up and “grinding” the rest of the peppercorns in the food processor (which actually did okay, and maybe what I should have just done with all of the peppercorns in hindsight). NOT the most pleasant use of my time.
Moral of the story: use thin-skinned, easily pulverized peppers and preground Szechuan peppecorns, or invest in a spice grinder. I will definitely do one of the two the next time I make this.
About deseeding the chilies: the seeds can be tough and leathery, so can create an unpleasant texture for the chili crisp. I found that the easiest way of deseeding them was to use kitchen shears to cut them in half the long way, from the stem to the tip. Cutting them should cause the seeds to bounce and sprinkle out. I cut all the chilies, then picked them up by the handful and gave them a collective shake, spot checking a few chilies to see whether seeds remained. You don’t have to get rid of every seed, just enough so that it doesn’t feel like you’re just eating spicy chili seeds!
I increased the amount of oil since I really love chili oil. However, even so, there was barely any oil after all the chilies, shallots, and garlic had been stuffed in. Such is the nature of this chili relish. Still, I think the next time I might up the oil content even more, just to loosen up the condiment a bit.
Recently I bought a scale for measuring ingredients. I’m going to devote a whole post to this scale soon because I. LOVE. IT., but consider this my first volley – if you cook or bake a lot, get a scale. It’s so much easier. If you see yourself making this chili crisp over and over again (as you should), get a scale. It is beyond a pain to try and measure cups of chilies, shallots, or garlic. Get a scale.
The recipe’s author, Sohla El-Waylly, recommends slicing the shallots and garlic with a mandoline. This is definitely too much for me. It’s fairly easy to just slice the shallots with a knife. Try to cut them thinly, and to be as consistent as you can, as it will result in more even frying. For the garlic, I just minced them, and while the end result was not as aesthetically pleasing as nice crisp chips of garlic, this was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
As I mentioned, the Szechuan peppercorns give the chili crisp that addictive numbing spice. The other spices (ginger, black pepper, cumin, red cardamom, star anise) give more depth of flavor and complexity. I used them all, but I think you can experiment with which ones you like, or add others to suit your tastes.
You should be able to find mushroom powder at specialty spice shops, or on Amazon. It gives a bit of extra umami and natural MSG flavoring to the chili crisp. Alternatively, you can buy dried mushrooms and grind them up yourself in a food processor (the powder doesn’t have to be super fine).
I know I’ve bit a rambly lately, so back to discussions only on FOOD!!! And by food, I mean the most decadent, buttery, crumbly, intensely chocolatey cookies you can imagine. This recipe is also sort of a cheat, as it’s fairly famous and has been around for ages. But hey, things are a classic for a reason! I’ve had this recipe bookmarked for years, and finally got around to making them. I’m happy to report that they fulfilled all my expectations! They were fairly easy to make, although not super quick, time-wise, since the recipe does recommend that you chill the dough for a minimum of 2 hours. I ended up making the cookies over the course of two days, refrigerating the dough overnight. If you have enough foresight to do this, or even to make a batch to freeze for later, getting them in and out of the oven is supremely easy and fast, as the cookies take absolutely no time to prep and bake.
I must also apologize for my lack of pictures. I made these while my mom was visiting, and was too busy chatting instead of shot composing. However, the beauty of a universally lauded cookie is that you can ogle the vastly superior pictures here, here, and here. They are as delicious as they look. They are sort of a cross between a sable, a shortbread, and a chocolate chip cookie. For my part, here are some tips I’ve gathered about making the cookies:
And, that’s it! I brought these to a park BBQ, and they were lauded as “brownie cookies.” Whatever you call them, they taste amazing!
I finally, finally saw Crazy Rich Asians this past weekend, and it was a wild and delicious ride.
I know this is a food blog, but I have so many thoughts about the movie, I have to share them! However, SPOILER ALERT – minor plot points and my very strong opinions follow, so if you don’t care to read those or haven’t seen the movie yet, just scroll to where it says “END.”
If you’ve been living under a rock, Crazy Rich Asians is a movie based on a book of the same name, written by Kevin Kwan. Directed by Jon M. Chu, it’s the first Hollywood studio production in 25 years to have an all-Asian cast, since The Joy Luck Club in 1993. Since its release, the movie has broken all sorts of records, dominating the U.S. box office and becoming most successful studio rom-com in nine years, since 2009’s The Proposal. Being Taiwanese American, I cannot overstate how happy this movie made me – to see people who looked like me on the biggest screen, recounting experiences that were my experiences. Overall, I loved it. As a rom-com, it was not my favorite – I thought Rachel Chu’s character was underdeveloped and mostly given awful dialogue until the final scene. Sometimes, it felt like Rachel’s supposedly successful career as an NYU economics professor was treated just as a convenient plot device instead of a real characterization of her identity. I mean, let’s be honest – Nick Young is basically an actual buffoon who has: 1) essentially lied by omission to his girlfriend for one whole year, and 2) contributes 50% to the decision to marry Rachel, yet seems to bear 0% of the responsibility, at least to his mother. Why exactly is Rachel moping around after him in Singapore when she probably has like five million deadlines waiting for her back in New York??
I realize that this is not the point of the movie, but to me, it feels like the movie sort of just glossed over the fact that “sacrifice” for East Asian families is often synonymous with “women sacrificing.” It’s often the Asian daughters that draw the shortest stick. Whatever Westernization relinquished in terms of family cohesion and loyalty, it at least partly gained in opportunity and independence for women. It’s not for me to say which is necessarily better or worse, but I think this intersection between Asianness, Asian Americanness, and feminism is a complex and tangled topic for a future story. Jon M. Chu did a phenomenal job, but I would love to see how this story would unfold in the hands of a female director.
Which brings me to a related point. Some criticisms of the movie have centered on its narrow focus on one specific, privileged section of Singapore society, and how it doesn’t include a wider Asian experience. While this is a legitimate point about representation, and also how our language often conflates “Asian” with “East Asian,” this is ultimately a fruitless argument, because no one movie can purport, or claim, to do all that. We just need more movies. More stories with more diverse perspectives. Over the years, we have seen Asians on screen as comedic relief, kung-fu warriors, sensual lovers, overachieving students, scrappy underdogs, immigrant women, immigrant families, now even zombie killers. But there are so many more voices to be heard. And I, for one, am loving the fact that this particular historic, groundbreaking movie is one that shows Asians as unabashedly and unapologetically bursting with wealth, privilege, and power. For all our collective obsession with the Kardashians, for all this year’s spectacle with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, it is about darn time we got a close look at Singapore’s luxurious, resplendent, glittering (albeit fictional) one-percent.
*******************END OF STRONG OPINIONS*******************
Okay, this all still has to do with food, I promise! One of my favorite scenes in this movie (not a spoiler) is one where the main characters are eating in a loud, bustling open air night market. This scene is so iconic of life in many cities in East Asia, where night markets are places of socialization and entertainment, where people go to eat, drink, shop, and win stuffed animals at carnival games. They’re bustling, chaotic, frenetic places that take your breath away. One of the iconic things to eat in a Taiwanese night market is popcorn chicken. It’s lightly breaded chicken laced with white pepper, salt, and other fragrant spices. It can come in the form of a huge cutlet, but it’s more commonly found as nuggets, fried with basil leaves, and served in a paper sack with long wooden skewers for poking and munching. It is delicious, and something I have to eat whenever I go back to Taiwan.
I’ve had a recipe for popcorn chicken bookmarked for years to make at home, but never got around to it. It sounded fairly easy, but marinading and frying are always intimidating on a weeknight. And… the recipe lived up to its feared fussiness for a weeknight! It was crispy and delicious, but involved more time and cleanup than I’d like. Also, the one thing I would definitely do differently would be to fry the chicken in larger chunks. I cut the chicken into small bite-sized nuggets because I liked the look of them, but the breading and frying then took foreeeeevver. The next time, I would cut the thighs into long strips, at least, or maybe even just fry them whole. Other tips:
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
4 | 4 | 1 1/2 hours | 1 hour (includes 30 mins marinading) | 30 minutes |
We served this with white rice, sauteed spinach, and roasted cauliflower. Total time to dinner, including sides: about 1 hour 30 minutes (I prepped the rice and vegetables while the chicken was marinading).
I’m back!! Sorry for the extended absence, August was a flurry of vacations, friends, and animal sightings! James and I had our one-year anniversary of marital bliss (bliss sometimes; general tolerance the rest of the time), and celebrated by going back to Boston, where we met, and traipsing with some friends to Cape Cod, where we first vacationed. Then we went hiking, camping, and swimming in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park (side note – did you know that the Smokies is THE TOP MOST visited national park in the U.S.? I was floored – I thought for sure it would be Yellowstone or Yosemite! #westcoastbias). The trips were great. Unfortunately, there was a not insignificant amount of rain in both places, but we made do. The Cape was stunning, as usual, and the Smokies were woody, forested peaks threaded through with rocky streams. Very picturesque, but definitely lacking the grandeur and scale of the West Coast national parks (#westcoastbias). James and I have a halfhearted goal of visiting all of the national parks, though, so that was a big one off the list! We also saw four black bears, which was really cool! All of the sightings were in very touristy locations, however, where we saw the crowds of people with cameras before we saw the bears, so it wasn’t too scary. It did prompt us to buy this amazing book, Bear in the Backseat, which I highly recommend, and which has taught me a wealth of information about bear behavior.
Also, FOOOOOOODDDD. Except when we were camping, James and I have eaten our way through the fried chicken restaurants of Tennessee. One place in particular, the Old Mill Restaurant in Pigeon Forge, TN, was AMAZING – James and I both got the fried chicken dinner, which consisted of six fried chicken legs, a side salad, corn chowder, corn fritters, green beans, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, and choice of dessert, all for $18.99 each! We ate ourselves silly, then took home leftovers for lunch the next day, which we lugged up to Andrews Bald for a sun-splattered, dozy picnic. We also sampled moonshine in Gatlinburg, TN, which tastes probably about how you’d imagine. There are a lot of different flavors, of which we got to taste 12, ranging from apple pie to strawberry mango margarita to seasonal peach. The tasting made us a bit more tiddly than expected, and we had to park our butts on some rocking chairs to take advantage of the free outdoor bluegrass concert before driving on to dinner! Gatlinburg, located right on the doorstep of the Smokies, is a thing of wonder – think the Las Vegas of Tennessee!
After we got back from the Smokies, we then immediately sauntered off to St. Paul, where my good friend Kate had graciously scheduled her baby shower to be at the same time at the Minnesota State Fair, which she loves. We went to the fair with her, and saw the most beautiful farm animals – baby donkeys, sleek horses, impressive cows, the state’s biggest boar, and tiny little 4-hour old piglets. We also ate a Scotch egg on a stick, the sweetest corn I’d ever tasted, and a bucket of ice cream. All in all, a very successful trip to Minnesota.
Okay, onto the recipe of this week. This recipe is a bit of a cheat, because I think probably 90% of my readers (read, friends) already know about it. However, IF YOU DO NOT, YOU SHOULD. It is an amazingly easy, no frills, set-it-and-forget-it pasta sauce that nevertheless tastes luxurious, rich, velvety, flavorful, and so much better than just the sum of its parts. We made it after coming back from the Smokies, when we were craving homemade (and not fried) food, but with hardly anything in the fridge and little time to go grocery shopping. With just five ingredients (canned tomatoes, onion, butter, pasta, zucchini), plus some olive oil, salt, and pepper, you can have a vegetable-forward, healthy, delicious dinner on the table with very minimal effort.
Marcella Hazan is widely considered to be the Julia Child of Italian cooking. Her cookbook, Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, is fantastic, with recipes ranging from the foolproof (like this popular recipe) to the elaborate. I’ve made several things from it, and they have always been great. This sauce is not only easy, but also endlessly customizable. Feel free to toss in herbs, vegetables, even a little crumbled sausage. You can also do what my friend Kristin does, and make this sauce to go with some pre-made, fancy fresh pasta or ravioli, thus elevating your weeknight dinner game even more. The only limiting factor is your imagination!
Final Notes – this sauce gets better the more it’s simmered. The recipe tells you to simmer for 45 minutes, which is kind of a pain, but you don’t do anything while simmering, except give it a stir every now and then. So I’ve still classified this recipe as Fuss Factor 1, but just note it won’t be super quick. Also, Marcella tells you to throw the onion away at the end, but I don’t know why you would – it’s delicious, so I normally quarter the onion, then just serve the pieces with the pasta. Top with some Parmesan, and you have a pasta fit to be served in any trattoria off the coast of Italy!
We topped the pasta with freshly grated Parmesan cheese, and served it with a mountain of roasted zucchini, and it was just what we wanted after a week of fried chicken. Total time to dinner, including sides: 50 minutes
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
4-6 | 1 | 50 minutes | 5 minutes | 45 minutes |