I'd Rather be Jazzfestin'.

As our Big Easy holiday ends, we linger on thoughts of crawfish (Acme's Craw Puppies!) and bumpin' and jazz... Big. Easy.

Come back soon for adventurous tales of eating and drinking along the Mississippi.

Chicken Breast Dumplings... and a Spicy Wontons EXTRA!

When the first cold rains come through the Bay Area, I spend a day making dumplings. The kitchen table transforms into an assembly line centered around an enormous stainless-steel bowl of dumpling filling-- traditionally, a ground pork, shrimp, gingery-oniony mixture. Beside the bowl I set up the filling station: wonton skins piled on a cutting board and draped with damp paper towels to keep them from drying out, a wet hand-towel for cleaning the raw meat off things, teaspoons (one for scooping in, one for scooping out!), egg-white... I stack a few Billie Holiday albums in the player, crack the window for air and to listen to the rain, and then get to work...

Filling with just the right amount and effectively crimping (the seam will not open when steamed, boiled, fried or attacked by small, vicious beasts) dumplings by hand takes practice. Especially if you want a fancy scalloped crimp like you see in dim-sum houses. Something seemingly simple enough for children, can be a baffling and annoying practice even if you choose to follow the "How to fill wonton wrappers" directions on the back of many packets of skins. These "How-to" drawings, also explained (uselessly, to me, at least) in Chinese are the biggest step-by-step line drawing hoax known to the human race... unless you want your dumplings to resemble a burrito.

Improving dumpling skills, winter after winter, requires practice. However, the volume of the task is all but a glaring excuse to fix-up a dumpling-filling-fete!

I've been to at least one "all-day dumpling-fest," in New York in my very early twenties: Half-sheet-pans filling up with dumplings, bottles of wine being consumed rapidly, cigarette smoke lingering in from the fire escape, bursts of laughter over failed crimp-n-twist techniques... And, a jar of Nutella being passed around (for eating not filling!). Three girls of Asian persuasion (2 Korean, 1 Filipino) including myself, managed the evening's effort never questioning how the growing mound of pale-yellow dumplings would be consumed.

If you're Asian, you make enough to feed your family-- blood and extended-- even if they're thousands of miles away. If they are far away, you freeze.

This year I attempted chicken breast dumplings. A friend had left me a Kitchen Aid sausage attachment, and I was eager to grind my own meat. Chicken breast extruded right into a big stainless bowl with the rest of my dumpling filling mix of green onions, garlic, S&P and drizzles of toasted sesame oil. (A bit healthier than the traditional pork; much more substantial than veggie versions.)

Once again, armed with teaspoons and little bowls of egg white, we filled and crimped, filled and crimped... The silky wonton skins stuffed with slippery raw meat, the skins-edge dotted with egg white and sealed, with a simple pattern, from the tines of a dessert fork.

When the last dumpling was filled, it was nearly midnight. Exhausted, I tossed the dumplings in freezer bags lined with parchment paper. Ready when we are... for soup, pan fry, ravioli or a gently steamed snack.

*Make and freeze your dumplings in November, December and January, then have them available through the rains and just in time for Chinese New Year!

While delicious and simple on their own, chicken breast dumplings don't have as much natural salt as pork or the subtle brine of shrimp, so be sure to put out every Asian condiment on hand: Spicy sriracha sauce, hot chili oil, ponzu, toasted sesame/shoyu/lime/sesame seeds and more!

OUR FOOD-CENTRIC WEBSERIES IS UP... CHECK OUT THE TASTY VIDEO!

The Mother of California Chinese Cuisine Cecilia Chiang schools us in Wrapping Wonton's on a Winter's Day... topped with a Sichuan sauce.
http://soniahunt.com/episodes/ep5-memories-of-beijing-wontons/#main

IS this a BUTTER BLOG? More obsessions revealed.

It could very well be. After recent gourmandine trysts with Monsieur le Beurre... in the form of extremely tasty butter croissants at Tartine (see pic) and Acme bread. AND, some 85% + fatty butter from Straus Family Creamery where they (from Saveur, Mar 08) "celebrate the variations." In spring and summer, their butter has a "yellower color" with a "slightly sweeter, herbaceous flavor" made from milk given by grass-fed cows. (Delicious, of course!)

Straus Family Creamery sublime salted butter. Sold-by-the-$2-stick (at BiRite and other stores).

(spread that on your sconehenge english muffin!)

On matters other than butter, I've succumbed to Williams-Sonoma's April catalog of delights. This is my latest obsession:

The three-quart saucier that I'm convinced will dispel my risotto woes (yes, dammit, I parboil my arborio! I learned this trick from the line cooks at a "trattoria" in Evanston. Mounds of half-cooked rice were drained and packed into square tubs, then scooped into 10-inch saute pans to finish with broth... Portabello. Pea, white onion and ham. Or, just pure, creamy parmiggiano risotto--perfect everytime. But, completely inauthentic, I gather).

I've tried a handful of times to make risotto the traditional way: toasting the rice with the aromatics; a hefty pot of stock simmering at the ready; 1/2 cupfuls of patience and a wooden spoon. All for naught. I can still taste that first time in my little kitchen on Oak Avenue, ca. 1993. Steam from a too-shallow pan flying up in my face; the fruitless search for extra canned broth that would never save my risotto da inferno. The crunchy mass Stephen tried to eat before reverting to a pint of Ben and Jerry's (Chocolate Fudge Brownie, if I remember correctly) for dinner.

Anyway, in cooking, the right pan/utensil can solve lots of things. If only life were so sure.

Check out the cool video on how Le Creuset is made at the WS site.
(Making videos for WS is my dreamjob. Unfortunately, I did not shoot this video.)

Do you share my obsessions?

Limited-production Butter? Pricey French cookware? Let me know in a comment!

E -

More to come soon... Cabinet Curry, Freezer Dumplings. These are my chilly weather recipes. Hope to share them before we're all sporting tanktops in SF! If not, we'll surely think of something.

And, if that wasn't Spicybrowngirl enough for you...

...TRY SOME OF THIS.
(maybe, tuna and pepperocini's in the previous post is not your idea of spicy.)


Chorizo Bilbao is one of my very favorite things. I love to cook up my 'ghetto' paella chock full of shrimp, chicken, pimenton, peppers, peas and sizzling slices of this greasy, salty semi-cured Spanish sausage.

(OK. I confess. I do use arborio in my paella!)

See this beloved chorizo in action:



If you think that sizzles, visit shadtrax.com to download the Spicy Browngirl Mix.

(aka Super Sounds for the Kitchen, Bedroom and Beyond.)

Spicy Brown Girl

track list

Al Otro Lado Del Rio – Jorge Drexler

War Ina Babylon – Max Romeo

Reggaeton Latino – Don Omar

Sunshine – Floetry

Rainy Dayz (feat Jah Rule) – Mary J Blige

Closer – Goapele

Fanatic – Vivian Green

Brother Sister – Brand New Heavies

Love Rain – Jill Scott

Sometimes – Erykah Badu

Your World - Common

What's in the cabinet-cookery returns.

Today, we play with canned tuna found lingering in the cabinet.

WHY? you ask.

(For a wee frugal feast.)

Were you menaced with canned tuna as a child? Whether its unique aroma plagued your superheroes lunchbox, or you were greeted with the deadly tuna noodle casserole at dinnertime, it's safe to say, canned tuna gets as bad a wrap in the U.S. as instant mac-n-cheese. And, now that we're all a little older and much, much more sophisticated, we banish canned tuna from our chic existence. Oui, oui.

Well, as far as this tuna genre is concerned, I consider myself lucky. I was raised in the U.S. by immigrants, so I didn't discover tuna-as-cheap-food-staple until college. You know, there was actually a time when my mom bought canned tuna, but I think it was just for show-- some kind of mercy on us for when our 'white' friends came over. My brother slid the jars of bagoong and jackfruit to the back of the 'fridge, and we feigned tuna in the cabinet like everyone else. My dad, who did most of the cooking in the house, never touched them.

During college, I worked at nouveau diner that served a very serious tuna cheddar melt on cornbread. While its mayo goodness and ooey cheese complimented the salty, chunky salad well, an odyssey was born out of the fact that I wasn't exactly impressed... I didn't understand tuna salad until I came to San Francisco and had BiRite's housemade. It was a food moment.

Capers. Red onion. A curious lack of celery. Good mayonnaise. It was tuna salad reborn on my palette so much so that I never bothered to steal their recipe. I took a tub of it on the road when I moved from California to Colorado.

(I feel BiRite's house items kindof have goût de terroir. It's the micro-climate!--in the way NY bread has NY water.)

Smuggling tuna salad through the Sierras. I know it sounds crazy, but as a child I was terrorized by pots of oxtails (and tripe) in peanut butter sauce that simmered away on the stove for half a day. (My dad was always 'perfecting' it.) I had zero tuna trauma. It was a new taste.

Soon enough, I discovered tuna in olive oil. In Italy, where I tend to think there's also a lack of tuna disdain, it's called tonno in olio d'oliva. If you're trying to kick your mayo habit as I am these days, the olive oil offers a different take on richness. And, it's just the right ingredient to make a tuna salad for your chic, grown-up tastes. I borrowed the capers from BiRite's recipe, and add in pepperocini, crushed red pepper and extra drizzles of extra virgin olive oil from me.

A little decadence. A little bite.

Molto Chic Italian Tuna Salad

- 1 - 6 oz. can tuna packed in olive oil, drained
- 1 T. non-pareil capers, some juice
- 1 small shallot clove, thinly sliced
- 1 or 2 golden pepperocini, sliced into rings, to taste
- 1-2 t. extra virgin olive oil, the best you have, to taste
- 1 to 1 ½ t. lemon juice, meyer's are great
- kosher salt and ground peppercorn blend, to taste
- crushed red pepper flakes,optional
- white italian flatbread (like focaccia) or pita bread
- aioli, optional

Drain and place tuna in prep bowl. (You may want to add back some of the drained liquid depending on texture of the tuna.) Add capers, shallot (better than red onion!) and pepperocini. Mix gently with a spoon while breaking up the tuna. Add salt and pepper, olive oil and lemon. Mix gently again, then taste. Fix seasonings. Chill in refrigerator covered in plastic wrap.

Cut flatbread or pita into triangles or small squares just larger than bite-size. Toast until medium golden. Let cool slightly. Cover will small amount of aioli or olive oil mayo. Top with chilled tuna salad. Scatter thinly sliced shallot and-or pepperocini rings. Drizzle with your best extra virgin olive oil. Sprinkle with a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes.

Close your eyes. Imagine yourself reclining while tasting the azure Mediterranean air!

(Spicy bits.)

It's not called an "olive oil croissant" for a reason.

I won't start calling myself a "blutter'er" or a "but'ogger," but I can't wait to see how many bloggers do after reaching into their mailboxes this month and birthing "The Beauty of Butter" from Saveur, aka 'Playboy for Cooks.' If you didn't read all about it, contribs celebrate butter by glancing at it's controversial past when margarine surpassed U.S. butter consumption in the 80's, then sing a song of praise for its present popularity.

(US butter-lust could be a surrogate European vacation while the EURO kicks the USD on its bum.)

Butter has never been a bad'un in my book, but I wanted to share my own tale of butter lust...

On a recent visit, my sister said that butter is only really bad (the big BAD cholesterol) when it reaches past the smoking point. "Oh, really?" I said while patiently awaiting careful crisping , especially edge, on our multi-grain pancakes by cooking in small puddle of browned butter.

(Maybe she was saying this because her kids were watching.)

I was butter-obsessed as a child, I reminded her, snubbing bright tubs of margarine mom bought in three-packs. I learned patience from my love of butter. I had to lop hard pats off a stick of unsalted butter for my bagels. First I toasted the bagel to soften the butter, then spread it carefully and then I toasted the bagel again, just long enough to watch the butter bubble-up hot and golden already anticipating the first warm, crunch. Warm. Butter. Crunch.


Over platters of crispy-edged pancakes and real maple syrup, we resigned ourselves to the fact that I will be taken out by a fate that can be directly and easily traced to my over-zealous relationship with food. Chef-author Anthony Bourdain will likely share my food fate. In the New Yorker, he gave readers the straight dope on a much loved fat (from "Don't Eat Before Reading This," New Yorker, 1999):

"In the world of chefs, butter is everything. Even non-French restaurants... throw around butter like crazy. In almost every restaurant worth patronizing, sauces are enriched with mellowing, emulsifying butter. Pastas are tightened with it. Meat and fish are seared with a mixture of butter and oil. Shallots and chicken are caramelized with butter. It's the first and last thing in almost every pan; the final hit is called monter au beurre. In a good restaurant, what this all adds up to is that you could be putting away almost a stick of butter with every meal."

Monter au beurre. It's not called an "olive oil croissant" for a reason.

(Miss Minnesota, butterized.)

Morning-After Wild Blueberry Muffins
(tops with that warm, butter crunch)


Want to know more about the science of butterfat or hear a geek's tale of homemade buttermaking. ? (or paste, http://www.cookingforengineers.com/article/113/Making-Butter)

Want the recipe for the muffins? Please leave a comment and let me know. They're delicious!

Something 'bout Spicy.

IN my favorite scene in the movie SIGNS, the camera cuts to Mel Gibson sitting at the head of the table presiding over his family at what he fears is their last meal together before being attacked by aliens. Double bacon cheeseburgers, greasy french fries, heaps of meaty spaghetti, stacks of buttery, syrupy pancakes and milkshakes all around clutter the family table...their hollywood faces stricken with impending doom. Met with the end-- What would you chew?

(a few of my) Last Meals on Earth: No Subsitutions Please!!@**

Mexicali Repast with bubbly and a late night trip to spain

- to some LOUD mariachi with accordions, omalara portuondo & andrés segovia.

• Veuve Clicquot, Wild Strawberries and Blackberries.
• Quesadilla con gambas ala parilla, carne asada, cilantro y queso fresco and mango-papaya salsa 'a mano' by someone’s loving abuela.
• Whole red snapper grilled (deboned tableside), cilantro rice, heirloom black turtle beans, avocado crema.
• red wine sangria (con banana, peaches and blackberries), rosado.
• More strawberries, blackberries and french Champagne.
• all night dancing in the island heat (to renew appetite).
• churros y chocolate from café san gines, madrid, spain.

Memories of my Italian neighborhood
- to the arias of la Bohéme & madonna’s “borderline.”

Half a New York “Italian” on a roll with pepperocini, o&v, s&p. Side of eggplant parmesan, hot, garlic bread, limonata pellegrino.
3 slices of thin crust cheese pizza (from a wood-fired oven): one regular, one with black olives, garlic and extra tomato slices, the other with escarole, onion and anchovy. A ½ litre of chianti classico, barolo or brunello di montalcino.
pistachio, chocolate hazelnut italian ice & a florentine cookie.
La Serra Moscato di asti or Bonny Doon vin di glaciere.

An American Melting pot feast with a final nod to Scotland & canada
- to “be bop,” billie holiday and mozart’s adagios, al fresco.

• Grey goose poire and santa cruz cranberry juice, shaken, a few pomegranate seeds.
• A litre of sparkling calistoga water.
• Salad of arugula, friseé, roasted beets, tsatsuma supremes and chevre with meyer lemon vinaigraitte (made from northern and central valley california produce).
• A few more glasses of sparkling calistoga water, cabernet franc (Rhone valley)
• Linguine alla vongole, parsely, chili flake and lemon handmade by someone's loving Nonna.
• Whole Steamed maine lobster, Steak Frites (ribeye and yukon shoestrings preferred)
• Grilled artichokes, asparagus and fingerling potatoes, meyer lemon aioli
• Scharffenberger Chocolate pudding, mint whipped cream and/or pistachio and chocolate hazelnut gelato with crushed almond biscotti.
• Double shot espresso.
• rest period.
• Balvenie, double wood, single malt, with gentle massage.
• A cigarette (export A – extra light silver), with a view. If it really is my last meal...
• In the end, why not feast... with decadence and abandon!?