Sawsawan!

If everyone had the same taste...

...there would only be one flavor.

Sometimes, I get homesick for loud brownfolk. Homesick for a world where aunties arrive, competing for loudest entrance to a room. A world where the dining room seems to tilt as one more pot of pancit noodles or another platter of plantain fritters is added to the table.

(we get excited about karaoke; we are, afterall, ASIAN)

When I can't fly back home to my NY, I head straight down to SoCal where my "California" cousins have been calling San Diego home for over 30 years. Of course, when we get together, there is plenty of eating going on. Witness the edible carnage at a lazy Sunday afternoon bbq in Temecula...

(we get excited about meat marbling, too)

But, for the brown and down, meat—beef, fish or pig!—is not officially eaten in Filipino homes until a bowl of sawsawan is prepared. Loaded with salt, tang and kick, the sawsawan is essentially a condiment. Yet, so much more. Think of it as a dipping sauce that makes use of all those tiny bowls that come with a full dinnerware set. And, you thought those were for ice cream! Well, think again.

(this was an enormous bowl of sawsawan made by my cousin's husband who does the equivalent of "keeping kosher" by "preserving pinoy." Romel's sawsawan is composed of chopped fresh tomato, white onion, jalapeños—seeds included, pickled peppers, probably a couple whole garlic cloves, lemon juice, vinegar and soy sauce.)

Sawsawan, usually a "sour accompaniment," is delicious with any grilled, broiled, baked or fried meat. It can be as simple as a bowl of patis. Or, a side of soy sauce, calamansi juice and a few dry red chilies. How 'bout a small dish of bagoong with chopped green mangoes?

With warm, steamed white rice and a meat of choice, sawsawan makes a meal more personal. Perhaps, you're partaking in a host family's favorite sawsawan. Maybe, your little dipping bowl transports a solitary meal to a place called Home. If you want to get REAL, eat with your hands*: Squish together mounds of meat and rice, dip and enjoy. A friend once wrote that her perfect lover would relish the scent of patis on her fingers and seek out her vinegar kiss.

Sawsawan. Flavor. Try it.

(it's guaranteed to empty your rice pot!)

*Kamayan: "Eat with your hands"

More Strawberries (Happy Bastille Day!).

Today at work I had a fried chicken craving. I announced it to the first person I saw in the hallway, but he couldn't help me. Then, I told Julie. And, she was glad to bend my ear:

"Bakesale Betty's," she said. "They have chicken sandwiches, and they only have one kind. But, it's really, really good. Don't tell anyone you're going. You'll be buying sandwiches for the whole office!"

She went on to passionately described the coleslaw-stuffed, fried chicken on a roll concoction at Betty's.

This is what I lovelovelove about the Bay Area. It's what brought me here. Eighty percent of the nations produce grown an hour away, and nearly everyone's everyday passion for food. I used to think that I tended to gravitate toward "foodies" or whatever people who stock four different kinds of paprika like to call themselves, but after ten plus years in the Bay, I know I can't get through even the simplest meal—pizza, a bagel, a packet of oatmeal even—without hearing some kind of strong opinion about food.

Transplant or local, like a rite of passage, nearly everyone in the Bay has had an artichoke, knows what aioli is (and how to make it!) and can tell you the difference between wild and farm-raised. Food crazy is in the air, the water, the food. The whole, organic food. Whether you happened upon your food passion as a waiter or a food snob or both, we love our food. Especially, OUR food. Bay Area food. Which brings me back to Bakesale Betty's...

The drive from Emeryville was a little under ten minutes (with the speed bumps). As I pulled up to 50th and Telegraph, I could already see the line about twenty deep at the door. Magically, a parking spot opened. Then, I fell in line noting the lunch crowd hunched over bare ironing boards serving as cafe tables.

(all pictures courtesy of my fellow yelpers)

Almost immediately, someone filed behind me, assessed the waiting line and muttered with conviction.

"It's so worth it," he said to himself. "So worth it."

"Yeah, there's a wait," I said stating the obvious.

"Have you ever been here before?" he asked.

"No. This is my first time."

"Really? Wow."

He thought I was a tourist.

"Where are you from?"

I explained the fried chicken craving. It's so worth it, he said again. And, he went on to passionately describe his morning ritual of Betty's pear-ginger scone, coffee and a fried chicken sandwich—he saves it for a few hours until lunchtime—that he eats at work in Martinez.

"You drove here from Martinez?" I asked.

He said yes. Then, he said, Is that far? But, he didn't seem to mind. Especially, if it meant he could get Betty's fried chicken sandwich in his stomach. Passion. For food.

The line moved fairly quickly, and before I knew it I was wide-eyed inside the shop. A mound of ginger cookies and a whole pie brimming with berries welcomed me like a grand dames on silver stands. The air buzzed with the yammering, hustling staff—about a dozen people including Betty clad in her signature blue wig!—assembling and stuffing pastry boxes and filling and calling out orders. The air was just slightly sugary.

I ordered two chicken sandwiches, a ginger cookie and a strawberry shortcake (yet another craving I've had since strawberry season went into full swing). The single-file line pressed through the door with ravenous eyes.

Just beyond the glass partition where the staff made sandwiches, it was a tremendous scene. Not one but two (3 gallon cap.) metal bowls stacked with freshly fried chicken breasts, a third bowl heaped with an even fresher cabbage slaw flecked with vibrant pickled red onions and hands, very fast hands, inserting chicken and slaw, chicken and slaw into a delicate yet substantial torpedo roll.

(the chicken sandwich is $7.75; they also have chicken pot pie and sometimes egg salad sandwiches, I hear)

The price for such a great lunch spot tip was getting a fried chicken sandwich for Julie, too. But it was a pleasure in itself to watch her eat the damn thing in about fifty-five seconds.

"You saved my life," she said. "This is the only thing I eat fast. Uh, well, this and In-n-Out."

The chicken was incredibly moist, and the slaw was laced with sweet (champagne?) vinegar dressing instead of traditional mayo. Bakesale Betty's quenched the fried chicken fiend in me, for sure. Or, for now. I even got to try a delicious "bakesale" good—the strawberry shortcake.

Betty's famous shortcake mounds, layered in sugared strawberries and a heap of dense, whipped cream sure was tasty. But, I wouldn't say it surpassed my friend Anne's strawberry shortcake— Anne employs the big guns: thick strawberry puree, irish-secret-recipe shortcakes the size of your head, creamy light dollops—

But, I wouldn't want to get into every little detail from cream to crumb though. I wouldn't want you to think I was a food-obsessed, crazy, FTW, all-passionate Bay Area foodie.

It gets cold here (in May!). Then, we roast things.

But. first, another quick trip to NOLA*...

Southern Strawberries Juleps!

- crushed ice
- strawberry pureé
- Southern Bourbon, like Knob Creek
- simply syrup
- mint
-water

Juleps are deceptively simple: Muddle mint (but not too much), a few strawberry slices and tsp sugar, 2 tsp still water. Add a handful of crushed ice, strawberry pureé, simple syrup and bourbon, to taste. Cut with still water as needed. Garnish with mint and fresh strawberry slices. A smooth, sweet taste of sun-drenched Southern goodness. Positively enjoyable!

IT GETS COLD HERE. THEN, WE ROAST THINGS:
More comfort food from the chilly city by the Bay

... with Ella Bella Farm Provence Sea Salt.

The micro-climate known as the San Francisco Bay Area has many surprises like eighty-five-degree beach weekends in April while March's lions still extend their paws into Spring. Long-lines at ice cream shops in February. Cashmere, denim and Uggs in May!

When the sun disappears and the skies threaten rain, I roast chicken legs in my heavy iron skillet. Aromatics and herbs that hint at summer and spring and a simple gravy (roasted root veggies, light stock hit with an immersion blender) to warm the bones. Pan-roasting chicken is all about the sear. Start off with fresh, free-range birds and make sure to give it some good brown color before it goes into the oven.


For a more hand-held affair, smoke up the house with an indoor grill. Beef-n-Brie sliders on toasted Ciabatta bread unites local grains & artisan bakers, humanely-handled beef and French brie.

(You can even add caramelized shallot!)

NO FRIES NEEDED!

So, what else do you do when the weather runs cold in the Bay Area?
Turn on the heat and cuddle up to that stack of magazines by the bed. Open up the "off-limits" bottle of Cabernet Franc, and shop for cookbooks online. You can even don your favorite pashmina and walk off (up steps, stairs and hills of SF) all that gooey brie.

Still hungry? How about another not-so-heart-healthy cold-weather snack?

Roasted Asparagus and Crimini Mushroom Dressing
with Toasted Double-Cream Gouda on Levain Bread

(Look delish? Send me a comment and I'll tell all: technique & recipe!)

*Check out my previous posts and pics from New Orleans.

Always,

Cooking with E Luv.

"Do you know what it means to Miss New Orleans?"*

Here I am again. Decatur Street.
Always my first stop in the Quarter.
Licking my white-sugar-coated-cafe-au-lait lips.
Inhaling the Mississippi at night.
It begins.

Eight years have passed since my last trip to New Orleans. My Uncle Sidney's not up in the loft at his store. That same trumpeter doesn't stand on the corner of the Square anymore.*

I can't help but wonder who's left and who's stayed (despite all the documentaries about it!). All I want is to throw money around because I can't help build houses. And, stay...

I'm eating my beignet. But, I still miss New Orleans.


*(with a nod to Jazz great Louis Armstrong.)

*(Uncle Sidney has been displaced to a condo in Gainesville; I still miss that trumpet.)

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.