Every once in a while it happens – you make a great sauce, for a pasta or chicken dish, and invariably it’s too thin, and falls to the bottom of the plate. As you’re eating, you assertively drag the noodles through the sauce, hoping to pull up the yummy flavors. Unless you’re eating with a spoon, it can be a near impossible feat.
Every culture has its tricks. The French have resolved this issue by reducing their stock-based sauces so that they are thick and rich with gelatin. The Chinese use various forms of starch, including corn starch and tapioca flour, to act as an adhesive. And with each technique comes a unique “mouth feel.”
The Thai have an ingenious method: ground, roasted rice. The rice absorbs all the flavors in the dressing and then clings like super-glue onto the food. The rice offers a crunchy texture and slightly nutty flavor. Roasted rice takes about five minutes to make and can be stored for a month wrapped tightly in the cupboard.
Roasted Rice Flour In a small skillet, over medium heat, add ½ cup of raw jasmine rice. Cook stirring constantly until the grains are lightly golden brown. Immediately remove from heat and out of the pan. When the rice cools, grind to a coarse powder in a spice grinder. For tips on cleaning your coffee bean grinder to use, click here.
Now that you have roasted, ground rice, you can make this unusual Thai Chicken Salad. It’s naturally low in fat and high in flavor.
Larp of Chiang Mai 1 lb. chicken breast 1 stalk lemongrass, minced 3 kaffir lime leaves, finely chopped 4 red chilies, finely chopped (seeded if you’d like) 4 tbs. lime juice 2 tbs. fish sauce 1tbs. roasted ground rice 2 scallions, chopped 2 tbs. cilantro, chopped 1 tsp. sugar Mesclun Greens salt and pepper to taste
1. Season chicken with salt and pepper. In a cold sauté pan, put chicken and a ½ cup of water. Turn on heat to medium. Add chicken and cook for 5 minutes on each side, or until cooked through. Remove from heat and let cool. Dice chicken.
2. In a mixing bowl, combine chicken and remaining ingredients, except mesclun. Mix thoroughly.
Ten years ago I traveled to Asia for the first time. I chose Bali because I heard wonderful things about the rustic beauty and the people. I knew nothing of the cuisine, but eagerly ate everything and took copious notes. On my first evening, after a 24 hour flight, I made my first foray in Balinese cuisine. This is what I wrote in my journal:
Fish shacks line the beach. You can pick your own fish: barracuda, squid, white snapper, red snapper, orange roughy, spiny lobster and head-on shrimp. They are grilled over a fire built with coconut shells with a spicy barbecue sauce, and served with steamed rice, vegetables (cooked with more chili sauce) and 3 sauces: soy sauce thickened with molasses, chili-garlic oil and garlic vinegar. The tables were on the beach overlooking the water. We had lobster, barracuda and squid. $30 USD.
It turns out that this feast for two which included plenty of beer was the most expensive meal.
When cleaning out my desk the other night, I came across notes from another spectacular meal… scribbled on the back of the program from a Balinese dance.
Ayam Goreng “Satika” – Fried Chicken with Sambal Matah (onions, chili, lemon grass, and lime). Chicken is stuffed and then fried.
It would seem from these notes that I would want to recreate this meal, but it took me 10 years…. By now, I have no idea was it tasted or looked like. So I had to improvise. This is what I came up with:
Ayam Goreng Satika
2 chicken breasts, butterflied. 1 shallot, peeled and chopped 3 garlic cloves, finely chopped 1 stalk lemon grass, trimmed and finely chopped 1 bird’s eye chili, finely chopped ¼ tsp. sugar ½ lime, juiced ½ cup flour 1 egg, whisked with 2 tablespoons water 1 cup panko bread crumbs Salt and pepper to taste Plain oil 2 tablespoons butter
1. Heat 1 tablespoon plain oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add shallots, garlic, lemon grass, and chili. Sauté until soft.
2. Season chicken with salt pepper and sugar. Fill with each breast with half of the shallot/chili mix and butter. Squeeze lime juice over the chicken. Fold over.
3. Bread the chicken: First dust in flour. Then dip in eggs. Finally, coat in panko crumbs.
4. Heat a large skillet over high flame. Add enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan. Add chicken. Cook until brown on both sides. Continue cooking in a 350F oven until chicken is cooked through.
Before leaving on my trip, I had a lovely phone conversation with Diane from White on Rice Couple. She's Vietnamese and lives in southern California, has traveled back many times and is a huge foodie. Her insights gave me good background as I ate my way through the country.
In our conversation, she mentioned snails. Specifically, a street in Saigon that has a plethora of food stalls selling dishes of snails. I wasn't scared of snails… I had eaten them before in French restaurants, sauteed in butter with garlic and parsley. Escargot (French snails) are usually pretty small, about 1/2 inch. They have a mildly briny taste and firmly chewy texture. To me, they are more a vehicle for eating bread with garlic and butter.
I never found snail street, but looked for them every time I was in a restaurant. In Hanoi, at Quan An Ngon, I finally ordered snails. The couple sitting next to us romantically scooped out the meat, tilted their heads back and dangled them into their mouths.
When mine arrived, I tried to exude the same romance. The shells were huge, at least 2 inches. I wasn't able to pull them out as effortlessly, but nonetheless, popped the whole thing into my mouth. I bit into the first one and the juices burst in my mouth and trickled down my throat, making me gag a little and cough a lot. I tried again anyways. Oy. I couldn't do it. The flavor of the broth was nice with chilies, lemongrass and basil. But without a spoon or any bread to sop up the juices, I wasn't able to fully enjoy it.
So now on the list of things I've tried, but don't need to eat again: 1. Cow's Feet 2. Kidneys 3. Large Snails
Do you have a secret stash of wine or cheese that you only break out for special occasions? Or maybe it's your favorite jam that you can only buy once a year when you visit friends on the coast of Maine?
I have a stash, and it mostly comes from Even' Star Farm. My friend Brett grows lettuces, tomatoes and chilies that taste like nothing I've eaten before. He cultivates his seeds so that he grows the most flavorful products. Each variety of tomato has its own personality, each lettuce leaf has texture and a distinctive peppery-ness, and each pepper is has a unique combination of floral and spice. The chickens have almost a gamey flavor from eating an organic diet and getting lots of exercise. And the eggs have a sweet undertone from the sweet potatoes the chickens eat.
Unfortunately, I don't visit Brett nearly enough. So when I do, I preserve as much as I can to last me until the next visit or season. This summer, I canned 50 pounds of tomatoes and 10 quarts of my favorite Peachy Mama peppers. I have a quarter of a lamb in my freezer (the first first quarter I shared with friends for my birthday).
And I save all of this wonderful food for special occasions! Tuesday was a special day — with the inauguration of an intelligent, inspiring and thoughtful man as our president and the engagement of my friend R!
What better way to celebrate than to break into my stash! On the menu tonight: Rack of Lamb and Champagne!
To help you celebrate with me, I'd like to share some of my stash with you. I'll be giving away a jar of peachy mama peppers to three lucky winners. All you need to do is leave a comment on my blog between now and Wednesday, January 29th at 5pm EST. As you can read about here and here, peachy mamas a treasured crop for me. Brett is the only one I know in North America growing them (though I've heard a rumor about a nursery in Southern California). The peppers are small and wrinkly like habaneros, but with a floral and sweet flavor. My favorite way to serve them is roasted with crackers: they make a perfect hors d'oeuvre. I also use them to season rice or succotash. Mixed with mint or corn, they make a wonderful relish. Lydia of The Perfect Pantry wrote about them here, when she served them with her birthday pizza.
I know, I know. I just came back from vacation, but with a fresh 10 inches of snow on the ground, I am craving the warmer weather. “Only 2 more months,” I tell myself, before the weather starts to turn around.
Last night, I was invited to a friend’s house for dinner. When asked what I could bring, she appreciatively suggested I bring a starch to accompany the steak and broccoli they were serving.
I knew the steak would have some hearty spices and the broccoli with a heavy hit of lemon and garlic. I opted for tater tots, which gave me a good excuse to open a can of the smoked tomato ketchup I canned last summer. I knew that the flavors would be strong enough to hold their own with the steak, but straightforward as to not clash with the spices.
Tater Tots
4 yukon gold potatoes
½ cup parmesan cheese
½ cup flour
1 – 2 teaspoons salt
1 egg
1cup panko crumbs
1 cup clarified butter or canola oil
1. Put potatoes in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil and cook potatoes until tender, about 20 minutes.
2. When potatoes are cooked, drain them and put them through a potato ricer. The ricer will extract the skin from the potatoes, so no worries. Alternatively, you can grate the potatoes using a food processor or hand grater. In any case, grate the potatoes while they’re still warm
3. Let potatoes cool to room temperature
4. Mix potatoes with parmesan cheese, flour, salt (to taste) and egg.
5. Divide dough into 4 balls and roll potato dough into 4 logs. Cut each log into 1 inch pieces.
6. Roll each tot in panko bread crumbs. If you’d like, you can further reshape the tots to a round shape.
7. Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add butter or oil. In batches, cook tots on all sides until evenly browned, about 5 minutes. Serve with ketchup.
I know, I know. I just came back from vacation, but with a fresh 10 inches of snow on the ground, I am craving the warmer weather. “Only 2 more months,” I tell myself, before the weather starts to turn around.
Last night, I was invited to a friend’s house for dinner. When asked what I could bring, she appreciatively suggested I bring a starch to accompany the steak and broccoli they were serving. I knew the steak would have some hearty spices and the broccoli with a heavy hit of lemon and garlic. I opted for tater tots, which gave me a good excuse to open a can of the smoked tomato ketchup I canned last summer. I knew that the flavors would be strong enough to hold their own with the steak, but straightforward as to not clash with the spices.
4 yukon gold potatoes ½ cup parmesan cheese ½ cup flour 1 – 2 teaspoons salt 1 egg 1 cup panko crumbs 1 cup clarified butter or canola oil
1. Put potatoes in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil and cook potatoes until tender, about 20 minutes. 2. When potatoes are cooked, drain them and put them through a potato ricer. The ricer will extract the skin from the potatoes, so no worries. Alternatively, you can grate the potatoes using a food processor or hand grater. In any case, grate the potatoes while they’re still warm
3. Let potatoes cool to room temperature
4. Mix potatoes with parmesan cheese, flour, salt (to taste) and egg.
5. Divide dough into 4 balls and roll potato dough into 4 logs. Cut each log into 1 inch pieces.
6. Roll each tot in panko bread crumbs. If you’d like, you can further reshape the tots to a round shape.
7. Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add butter or oil. In batches, cook tots on all sides until evenly browned, about 5 minutes. Serve with ketchup.
I'm submitting this recipe to this month's Potato Ho Down, being hosted by the delightful Christie of Fig and Cherry.
One of the best ways to learn about a foreign cuisine is to take a cooking class. In the past few years, dozens of options have popped up in Vietnam — capitalizing on the booming tourist industry. The larger hotels in Saigon and Hanoi offer upmarket classes at Western prices. In Hoi An, every other restaurants offers some sort of course. With little planning, you can arrange a class any day of the week. Your budget can help in deciding your best option. Here are some other considerations:
Hands-On or Off? For sure, the best learning happens when you try the recipes yourself. However, some people prefer to just watch a demonstration, especially when they’re on vacation. And there are varying degrees of hands-on — some schools will have all the vegetables and other prep done in advance, while other will have you chopping everything right down to the garlic cloves. In any case, most hands-on programs will offer a burner, cutting board and knife for each participant. This allows you to prepare the entire recipe and eat your own creation.
The Recipes? Most cooking schools have set programs and menus. Be sure to inquire in advance about the recipes. If you’re interested in learning a particular recipe or technique, you may need to schedule the cooking class on a particular day. If the menu doesn’t interest you, look for other options.
The Program? For sure, all programs involve some amount of cooking and eating. Some will offer a market tour as part of the program, others may offer a small section on ingredient identification or on the eating culture. The market tour can be especially interesting if you are unfamiliar with the open, central markets common around the world (except in the US). If you are new to a culture or cuisine, this also offers a great opportunity to become familiar with the more unusual ingredients.
Private or Group? The larger hotels and schools usually offer group classes for up to 16 guests. This can be a fun way to meet other travelers and hear about their adventures. A group class does not necessarily mean the class will be less “hands-on.” The smaller restaurants usually offer private classes. Depending on the skill of the instructor this can also mean more opportunity for customization.
On my trip, I took two cooking classes, both of which were recommended by the Lonely Planet.
These classes are offered in a small cultural center outside the center of town. The class is led by a lovely woman (An) who learned how to cook from her mother and learned beautiful English from an Austrialian in university.
The program begins with an informal discussion of Vietnamese food culture and a video that shows how the locals cook — with a small burner and a cutting board. No fancy equipment.
I chose the street food menu, which included the Bun Cha and Spring Rolls. In the kitchen, all the vegetables were washed, but nothing had been chopped. We chopped all the vegetables, seasoned all the meats, and rolled all the spring rolls. We started on the cooking of the spring rolls and the meatballs, and An had the assistants finish these tasks for us so we could move on. We also made roses out of tomato skins.
At the end of the class we received the recipes, beautifully wrapped in rice paper with a bow and cooking chopsticks in a little bamboo souvenir purse.
My thoughts While An is a lovely and articulate woman, her cooking experience is limited. Her recipes, which are quite good, came from her mother. As such, if you have a lot of experience cooking, you may find her lessons a bit remedial. I would have preferred that we chopped less so that we’d have more time to prepare additional recipes. At $40/person, it offered mediocre value: the recipes are great and the gifts were lovely, but did not get added value from the personalized instruction.
This cooking school is located on the outskirts of Hoi An. I enrolled in the Classic Half Day Tour. The program meets at a restaurant in town, and begins with a market tour. Our group of 16 divided into smaller groups so that as we navigated the central market we could gather close enough to our tour guide. He identified many vegetables and gave us opportunities to taste some of the fresh, local fruit. We looked at the fish and fresh noodles. We were introduced to a vendor selling traditional vietnamese knives, and given a sales pitch.
After the tour, we boarded a boat to cruise down the scenic river to the cooking school.
When we arrived at the cooking school we were given a tour of the herb garden and then seated in an open air classroom around a cooking island. A large mirror was strategically placed so we could all see what was happening on the counter. The instructor was the chef at the adjoining restaurant. Behind the demonstration area were 16 cooking stations, so each participant could cook their own dish.
On the menu were 4 dishes: Seafood Salad, Fresh Rice Paper Rolls of Shrimp, Hoi An Pancakes (Banh Xeo) and Vietnamese Eggplant in Claypot. The demonstration was rapid fire, we had an opportunity to try our hand at making the fresh rice paper, the rice pancake and the eggplant. Much of the ingredients and sauces were prepared in advance, so the class focused on the highlights of each recipe.
We sampled the spring rolls and Banh Xeo as we cooked them. At the end of the lesson, we retired to the tastefully appointed, open air dining room. We each enjoyed our individually prepared eggplant. The staff served family style the seafood salad and a behind-the-scenes prepared steam fished.
My thoughts This was an action packed afternoon, hitting all the key points, but not delving too deeply into any one. Unlike the Hidden Hanoi class, so much of the prep was done in advance that we missed learning how to make the batters for the rice paper and pancakes, as well as all the dipping sauces. But with the recipe hand-outs, I would likely be able to recreate them on my own. The chef was well versed culinarily, but did not allow opportunities for questions.
One of my top goals on this trip was to learn how to make rice paper. I had my opportunity to steam one sheet, remove it from the cotton sheet and roll my own spring roll. I would have liked to practice at least once more, but the pace of the class did not allow for it.
At $22USD per person, this class offered great value – a full meal, a boat tour, a market tour and cooking demonstration. The recipes were deceptively simple because all the prep work was done in advance; they were good, but not great. Some of my classmates commented that they were not likely to recreate the recipes because of all the chopping. I especially enjoyed meeting other travelers, and we had plenty of time to talk to each other.
If you want to eat authentic Vietnamese, you must eat the street food, whether it’s a food cart attached to a bicycle or just outside a store front. While the tour books will recommend gourmet, “authentic” restaurants, you will rarely see a native Vietnamese. Why, you ask? Because most Vietnamese don’t eat this way, except on very special occasions. Their culture is to eat street food or at home. To me, this inherently makes an upscale restaurant lacking in the full authenticity — while the flavors of the food may be right, the atmosphere is not. The locals are accustomed to paying $2 or less for a meal. The price of a restaurant (which to many of us still seems cheap) is astronomical. The average annual salary in Vietnam is just over $1,000 USD. [[To be fair, I ate many meals at the “gourmet” restaurants when I was craving a little serenity (and a glass of wine) within the hecticness of the crazy metropolis]]
When I say street food, I really mean sidewalk food. Food vendors set up shop on the sidewalks. They will cart out a propane tank to fuel their wok or stock pot, a bucket of water to rinse dishes (and another soapy bucket) and a few plastic chairs and tables. They may have a glass display for their herbs and meats. It’s unlikely that they have any refrigeration. Some vendors have store fronts, and others just transport their cart on the back of their bicycles. <
Most people will caution you against eating the street food. In developing countries like Vietnam, the water sources are questionable at best, and drinking the water can make the uninitiated sick. You’ll be advised to only eat foods/vegetables that have been cooked or peeled. A good approach is to slowly ease your way into the questionable territory. Our systems aren’t used to the bacteria, so we need to slowly introduce it into our systems. On my first day in Vietnam, I even brushed my teeth with bottled water. On the second day, I ate a slice of raw cucumber. By the third day, I was brushing my teeth with tap water. And by the end of the trip I was eating with abandon and never got sick!
The best way to discover new dishes is to follow your nose. When wandering the streets of Hanoi, I smelled some incredibly delicious grilling meat the sign on the cart said, “Bun Cha.”
I watched for a few minutes, decided everything looked fresh and healthy, and plunked my big, American bum into the tiny Vietnamese chair. I held up my index finger, “One, please.” I wasn’t sure what I ordered, but there was a lovely woman to guide me through.
They brought me a bowl of broth with the grilled pork meat balls and floating slices of green papaya and carrot. On the side was a plate of fresh herbs, rice vermicelli and spring rolls. The condiment dish had fresh sliced garlic and chilies. With a combination of Vietnamese and sign language, she told me to put garlic and chilies in the broth. Dip the noodles in and eat with the meat balls. The spring rolls are wrapped in the lettuce and herbs, and eaten on the side.
Much to my delight, I learned this recipe in my first cooking class. Bun Cha (adapted from Hidden Hanoi) (serves 4)
1 pound fresh rice vermicelli or rehydrated noodles. 1 head boston lettuce 1 bunch mint 1 bunch cilantro 1 pound ground pork 1 large shallot, peeled and diced 2 stalks lemongrass 2 garlic cloves 1 small red chili 2 tablespoons honey 2 tablespoons plain oil 1 tablespoon fish sauce 2 tablespoons coconut caramel (or palm sugar or brown sugar) 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper. Dipping Sauce/Broth
1. Wash lettuce, mint and cilantro. Soak in salt water for 5 minutes. Drain and set aside on a serving plate.
2. Finely chop lemon grass, garlic, shallots and chilies (or grind with a mortar and pestle). Mix with ground pork. Add remaining ingredients and mix to combine. Let marinate for 10 minutes.
3. Form meat into meatballs about 1 inch in diameter. Put on a grill-rack.
4. Cook meatballs over a charcoal fire until caramelized on the outside and cooked through, about 10 minutes depending on the fire.
Dipping Sauce 1 cup water 6 garlic cloves, chopped 1/2 small kohlrabi or or green papaya 1 small carrot, peeled 1 small chili, seeds removed and sliced 2 tablespoons fish sauce 1 tablespoon rice vinegar 1 tablespoon lime juice 3 teaspoons sugar 1 teaspoon salt
1. Thinly slice kohlrabi adn carrot. Toss with salt and let stand for 5 minutes. Rinse.
2. Heat water to a boil. Add garlic, chilies, fish sauce, vinegar, and sugar. Stir until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat and add kohlrabi, carrots and lime juice.
My favorite part of traveling is exploring other cultures’ cuisine, especially breakfast! I’ve never been a fan of American breakfasts – for me, eggs, pancakes and bacon induce naps within 30 minutes despite copious amounts of coffee. But breakfast abroad… Fried Rice in Bali, Congee with Meatball in Thailand, Salads and Cured Fish in Israel….. is a treat.
In Vietnam, the traditional breakfast is Pho: hot, steaming rice noodle soup with meat and onions, topped with lots of fresh herbs. And despite the hot climate – last week it was hazy, hot and humid – Vietnamese will slurp this dish throughout the day.
On my first morning in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City as it’s formally called), I scouted out places for breakfast. I wanted to find a café/restaurant that seemed busy with locals (I wasn’t quite ready to order straight from a street vendor) – an indication that the food was fresh and tasty. I had been told that the side condiments of hoisin and sriracha were an American invention, and indeed we did not see any on the table. Instead we saw fresh sliced chilies and garlic soaking in fish sauce. With each bowl is served a side plate of more herbs: a combination of basil, cilantro, recao (or long cilantro) and bean sprouts. We also had fried crullers, which we saw people dipping into their soup. They tasted stale to me, and to my taste did not add to the experience. On the first morning I was hesitant to add the fresh herbs (I am leery of eating anything that isn't peeled or cooked, especially on the first day). I enjoyed my soup that had slivers of ginger. Most shops sell pho for 20,000 Dong (about $1.25 USD) Each noodle shop has its own secret recipe for the broth, and variation on the herbs. But you can count on the bowl being a balance of Yin and Yang – hot and cold foods. The broth, with its meat, onions and ginger are hot (yang) and the fresh herbs, sprouts and lime are cool (yin). The noodles are balanced, and all together this dish is in harmony.
Perhaps the best bowl of Pho was in the outskirts of Hanoi. This version was laced with slivers of kaffir lime leaves which gave the broth brightness. And by this time, I was less hesitant of adding plenty fresh herbs. A few places served hoisin and chili sauce on the side… had this been a Western transplant?
How to eat Pho
The soup is served with a plate of garnishes so you can season the soup just as you like it. I prefer extra scallions, basil, bean sprouts, chilies and a good squeeze of lime. Some people add extra fish sauce and cilantro. In some places you will see dishes of hoisin and sriracha. Add these to your taste. Whatever you like, just stir it in with your chopsticks. Pho is a two handed meal. With your dominant hand (for me, it's left), hold the chopsticks and in your other hand a spoon. Pull up the noodles with your chopsticks and slurp (or shovel). Eat a spoon of broth. Alternatively, pull up the noodles with your chopsticks and use the spoon to help guide the noodles into your mouth. I try to alternative between bites of noodles and slurps of broth so that I keep everything balanced throughout the bowl.
During the second week of my trip, I ventured into Banh Mi Pate – another popular breakfast treat. [[ This is very much street food, in that the vegetables are raw and unpeeled and the meats are not refrigerated. If you have a weak traveler’s stomach you may want to avoid this.]] I had enjoyed this sandwich in the US, but always assumed it was a lunch treat. One of the few dishes that’s a holdover from the French occupation, this sandwich combines pork pates and cured hams with pickled carrots and daikon. With sprigs of cilantro and slices of chilies, this sandwich has a decidedly Vietnamese feel. To give it an extra Vietnamese touch, the pates are wrapped in lotus leaves before they are cooked. If you thought Pho was a deal, this is a scream – only 10,000 Dong – about 60 cents!
I just returned from a lovely, 2 week holiday in Vietnam. I had grand hopes of live-blogging through-out my trip. But I never found enough time to sit down at an internet cafe and write everything down. And I would not have been able to upload any photos.
So the upcoming posts are on a two-week time delay. I'm excited to be able to share my food experiences with you.
