Showing posts with label Asian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asian. Show all posts

Monday, March 18, 2013

Back to the Whirlwind: A quick little supper


March Break = Finished. This year, I didn't make a list of to-dos ... I just did! Brunches, coffees, programming, writing, adventuring, baking. I usually love lists, but they felt a bit constricting this year, so I just played it by ear. And it was a truly relaxing and productive week. Score on all fronts!

Today, it's back to the whirlwind of the classroom, and that bowl of cereal is just to tempting to call supper, so I'm presenting you with a beautiful, quick and healthy supper dish that's satisfying and easy to prepare: Mushroomy veggie bowl. It's inspired by a veggie steamed bun that I bought for a snack one day at the dim sum stand at T&T.  It's a simple saute of shredded cabbage, carrots, spinach, ginger, tofu and Chinese mushrooms seasoned with splashes of soy and toasted sesame oil. Very classic and very simple. The first night, I had this mixture over brown rice veggie spirals, and I had leftovers over brown rice with an extra drizzle of dark soy. Delicious bowls both ways. Nix the tofu and replace with left over chicken breast if you're feeling carnivorous, or use chickpeas as your protein bump instead. Either way, keep it simple -- that's what we're going for here.


For this recipe, I used dried Chinese mushrooms that I re-hydrated in water about 30 minutes before I started cooking. They have a really intense mushroomy flavour that gives this dish a real body. I'm sure fresh mushrooms would work well too -- especially ones like shitakes or king oysters -- although if you go that route, the mushroomyness will be a lot tamer.



I have another bowl coming up later this month.  They never get tiring around these parts and are a welcome distraction from the cereal box.

Mushroomy Veggie Bowl
feeds two hungry people

2 servings of dried pasta or
1 cup of brown rice + 2 cups of water

4-5 dried Chinese mushrooms
2 cups of shredded savoy or napa cabbage (about 5-6 leaves worth)
1 large carrot, finely diced or shredded
1/ 2 package (about 3-4 ounces) of firm tofu, but into cubes
a handful of baby spinach or chopped spinach
an inch bit of ginger finely chopped
a big splash each of dark and light soya sauce
1/4-1/2 cup of water or vegetable stock
a big grind of black pepper
1 tiny drizzle of toasted sesame oil

1. Put your dried mushrooms in a bowl of water. Let them sit while your prep everything else.

2.  Cook your pasta according to the package directions. Drain and set aside. OR: Put 1 cup of brown rice and 2 cups of water in a small pot. Bring to boil, then lower the heat, cover, and cook for about 20 minutes, or until the rice is nice and tender.

3. While your rice or pasta is cooking and your mushrooms are soaking, prep your vegetables. Heat a bit of oil in a saucepan and saute the ginger for about 1 minute or so, or until it starts to get fragrant and a tiny bit brown.

4. Add the carrots and cabbage and stir well. Your mushrooms should be ready! Squeeze out the excess water, slice them up and toss them in with the carrots and cabbage. Add your tofu now too.  Add 1/4 cup of water or vegetable stock along with the soy and black pepper.

5. Mix well and cook for about 4 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender. Add in the spinach, and mix well. Cook for another minute or so, and then drizzle over the toasted sesame oil.

6. Serve over your pasta and rice.


Sunday, April 22, 2012

Silky Smooth Asian-Style Brown Sugar Custard Tarts



I know some people who get inspiration to cook from the food they eat at restaurants.  My Auntie used to re-make restaurant dishes at home all the time.  We'd go out to eat and she'd taste something she really liked, and then soon, she'd be concocting her own version at home.  She found it a real challenge to try to make something taste authentic.  And I loved watching her and asking a million annoying questions.

When I bake and cook, it's usually something I've seen on blogs, or something I have a craving for.  I've rarely, until recently, tried to re-make restaurant food at home, but now I see how satisfying it can be.  It was awesome when I made Chinese steamed sweet red bean buns at home -- like having dim sum without the grease and the wait!  I've also made baked barbecue pork buns with the help of my Dad (who made the filling) and this lovely, easy bread recipe.  I even glazed it and everything!  Most recently, I tried my hand at making Chinese custard or egg tarts.  Ever had them?  They're a sweet, smooth, barely flavoured custard baked with a flaky crust that's a cross between savoury and sweet.  I used to have them all the time when I was little, and never imagined I'd be making them myself at home.



But I did!  I wanted something special and cute to bring to my Mom as a surprise treat one day, and these tarts were just the thing.  They're relatively easy to make, and the custard feels so silky and lovely in your mouth, especially good when you eat them warm.  The recipe I used seemed odd at first -- measurements of liquids in grams and the half an egg yolk really threw me off!  It was also a recipe that made 7 tarts -- an odd number, I thought.  But I pressed onward, changing grams to milliliters, and carefully adding in just half an egg yolk.  It turned out fantastic!  And because I used brown sugar, it got an added caramel taste you won't find in the tarts at the Asian bakeries.

A few notes about the recipe.  It calls for evaporated milk, but not too much of it.  If you don't feel like opening a whole can just a few tablespoons, I think it's safe to say that regular whole milk or non-dairy milk (as long as it's not the lite kind) will work find.  Light cream (like the cream you might have for your coffee) would probably also be good.  Also, you'll need to get those tin foil tart shells to press the crust in. They're about 3'1.5 inch shells. You could try doing it in a muffin pan, but be extra careful when pulling them out, as the pastry shells are quite delicate.

Asian-Style Brown Sugar Custard Tarts
adapted from The Missing Lokness
makes 7 tarts

Crust:
1/4 cup of Earth Balance margarine (or salted butter)
3 tablespoons of powdered sugar
3/4 cup of all purpose flour
1/2 a large egg yolk
2 teaspoons of evaporated milk

Custard:
9 tablespoons of water
1/4 cup of brown sugar
2 large eggs
3 tablespoons of evaporated milk

1.  To make the crust, cream together the margarine and powdered sugar until well combined.  Add the egg yolk and mix well.

2.  Add the flour and mix, slowly, adding the milk as you mix.  Keep mixing until you get a nice soft dough.  You might need to add a few extra drops of milk.  Form the dough into a ball and refrigerate for about 30 minutes.

3.  Meanwhile, make your custard.  First add the water to pot and bring to a boil.  Add the sugar and cook until the sugar has dissolved.  Set aside to cool.

4. In a large bowl, beat the eggs and evaporated milk until well-combined.  Add in the cooled sugar syrup and mix well.

5. Take your dough out of the fridge and divide it into 7 little balls.  Press them into the tart shells and fill will the custard mixture, making sure to leave a bit of room at the top.

6.  Bake your tarts in a 375 degree oven until the custard jiggles slightly when tapped.  Serve warm.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Camping and Noodles



Ever since I was in the tenth grade, and my best-friend to be brought in an article about the old growth forests in North Bay -- the Temagami red and white pine old growth forests -- and our science teacher made our class debate the pros and cons of logging in that community, I've been aching and yearning to see these forests for myself. For my 19th birthday, my sister bought me a poster that featured the huge trunk of a pine tree in the Temagami. Sometimes, I'd stare at the poster, then close my eyes and pretend that I was standing in the middle of that forest and soaking up the stillness of the oldest red and white pine forest in the world.


In my second year of university, I was sent an email that went out over a list-serve inviting people to join a group that would be taking a bus up to the Temagami for a protest over a recent decision made by the government to continue logging. I was very very close to going, but no one would go with me, and my parents would give their heads disapproving shakes every time I'd mention it. Needless to say, I missed the opportunity. It just wasn't my time.

After I started teaching and I had my summers totally free, I started thinking about making the trek up to the forests (were by now, partly logged) with my partner. But once I started researching and looking up prices, my spirits sank again. Train and even bus tickets up there were so expensive. I kept saying to myself that I'd save up and then one summer, we'd do it. But plans to buy a place for myself got in the way -- how could I think about vacations when I was supposed to be saving for a loft? When I finally made that purchase of a lifetime, I kissed my dream of seeing the Temagami good-bye. There was no way that I, now a home-owner and slave to a mortgage, was going to make it up there anytime soon.


Enter: my sister, my camping sister, my camping sister who has a drivers license. When she suggested that the four of us go camping this summer, I agreed and didn't think anything of it. Then, she called and said very casually "I've booked our camp site. It's in the Temagami. I thought it would be cool since you've always wanted to see it." I almost jumped through the ceiling, I was so excited. Hiking on Temagami island was a magical, jaw-dropping experience. Although we were not in oldest stands that exist in the area, the sheer height of some of the trees made me stop and gaze with amazement. The canopy overhead held a sudden rain at bay long enough for us to don our ponchos and keep going. And did I mention a lake? The crystal clear, warm-watered beautiful Lake Temagami that we just had to stop and swim in. My 13 year old dream to visit this magical place had come true. It was bliss.

And just like any regular camping adventure, there was lots of camping food. S'mores, kick-the-can ice cream (made with fresh local blueberries bought at a stand on the way), lots of camp fire-grilled goodies ... and instant kimchi noodles. I'm no stranger to instant noodles; it was a childhood staple that I've since grown out of. But not my big sister. She's a total noodle head and started each day with these noodles. When she offered me a bite, I thought it would be like any other instant noodle -- addictively salty and neutral in flavour. But no ... this new-found kimchi flavoured noodle had a little something extra . Needless to say, I went back for a second and third bite.

Upon arriving home, I wasn't about to re-live my preteen-instant-noodle-eating days, but I wanted to recapture that salty, spicy, definitively Asian flavour of those noodles. A quick poke in a chinatown grocery store, $2.99 later, and I had a little container of kimchi, waiting to be used. For those of you who aren't familiar with kimchi, it's a Korean pickled vegetable condiment that consists of nappa cabbage marinated in a chili-based sauce. My sister usually just snacks on it as is, but I've had it in a stew with tofu and it was incredible. Remaking the stew crossed my mind for just a second before it settle back to the noodles. And although my version isn't quite instant, it's tasty, satisfying and quick to make. I added rainbow chard, which dyed everything a beautiful deep pink, and a good dose of ginger to complete the experience. I packed some up and took it to my sister, who gave it a satisfying slurp of approval. If you've never tried kimchi, this is a good way to have a first experience. Don't be scared and don't get turned off by the strong smell. Cook it in a little broth and your whole dish becomes magic ... just like the Temagami.

Kimchi Noodles with Rainbow Chard

1 serving of noodles (I used a carrot-infused Chinese wheat noodle, but pasta would be great)

1 teaspoon of ginger, minced
4 stalks of rainbow chard, stems diced up and leaves cut into ribbons
as much kimchi as you can muster (I used about 6-7 pieces), cut up into strips
1/2 cup of vegetable stock
a squirt of soy sauce
a little dash of toasted sesame oil

1. Cook your noodles according to the package directions. Drain and set aside.

2. Meanwhile, saute the ginger in a saucepan until it gets fragrant but hasn't turned brown. Add chard stems and a splash of stock and cook for 2 minutes or so, until they soften up a bit.

3. Add your chard leaves, kimchi and the rest of the stock. Give it a good stir and cook until chard leaves have wilted and are almost tender. Add the noodles, soy sauce and sesame oil and toss until everything is well combined. Cook for another minute or so until most of the liquid has absorbed.

4. Anoint with more kimchi if desired or just dig in and pretend that there's a morning camp fire in front of you and you're counting the birds on the trees overhead.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Craving and Missing





If you asked me what the one thing I crave most is, it would probably be coffee. We've had this discussion before. My love for coffee turned into an unhealthy addiction so now I am forced to be disciplined. Oh well, such is life. My other cravings? Probably peanut butter (also aforementioned), chocolate, ice-cream .. We could be here for days. But recently, I've been craving something quite unusual and I've realized that it's because I miss something, or in this case, someone: my parents.

Every year, my retired parents take a 2-month holiday to east and south-east Asia, and while my father's weekly emails containing updates about what he ate, what my mother is doing and the random things that they are seeing are quite entertaining, I think it's his cooking that I miss. My father worked the midnight shift before he retired. He told us once that after his seniority reached a certain level, that his supervisors offered him a chance to switch to days. He promptly declined, not because he loved working midnight-8 and then having to adjust his body on the weekends, but because if he did, he figured he wouldn't have time to cook dinner for us. Eating dinner together was a big deal in our family, so big that it became a bit annoying when we grew up and our lives started changing, and sometimes because it was always the same kind of food (Chinese) and the same kind of flavours (curry, soy sauce, sesame seed oil) that were on the table. But somehow, we managed -- quite well if I may say so.

When I moved out of the family home, one the most exciting parts about it was being able to cook new things and experiment with flavours that never made it to our family dinner table (you see, between my father and my grandmother, few other people get to spend time the kitchen!). I think my mom was too, because within the first week of being in my new place, she requested that I make her shepherd's pie and chicken pot pie. But we're getting off topic. What does this have to do with my cravings?


Well, I'm dancing around the answer because I know you'll judge me, but I beg you not to. I was craving tofu. Haha, very funny, there. Tofu, ie. soy bean curd. Not something that normal people crave right? Well, at the family table, there was always tofu. It was cooked into curries, steamed with fish, mixed with a spicy meat sauce, chopped up in an egg salad or just served cold, right out of the container and drizzled with sesame seed oil and soy sauce. I realized that since moving out, I haven't cooked with tofu, and since my parents left on their trip, I haven't eaten tofu. So the other night, I made a meal that included marinated tofu, veggies and Chinese noodles. The noodles and veggies are cooked simply with curry paste, and the marinated tofu is added on top, cold. The idea to marinate tofu is actually my sister's. She did it years ago when my parents were on their yearly trip and she could snag some time in the kitchen, and I loved it instantly. I haven't made it since then, but it was the first tofu dish I thought of when my cravings hit. Simple to make, with the comforting flavours of childhood dinners, the cool marinated tofu was a perfect match to the steamy, spicy, crunchy noodles and veg. I used an Asian wheat noodle flavoured with spinach that cooked up in just four minutes, so not only was it simple, but it was quick. It really hit the spot. So go make it! Forget about all the tofu stereotypes and just make it! You can thank me after. :)

Marinated Tofu with Noodles and Veggies
(Warning: Some of the condiment measurements are guessed. Adjust to your taste :)

1 pkg of firm or extra firm tofu
1 teaspoon of toasted sesame seed oil
1 tablespoon of dark soy
1 teaspoon of light soy
a few grinds of black pepper

2 portions (about 3 oz or 85 grams) of Asian noodles (Pasta would be great too. Just be careful to adjust to cooking time.)
1/2 a shallot diced
a bit of ginger, grated
3 teaspoons of curry paste*
1 cup of chopped red cabbage
2 cups of chopped spinach
3/4 cup of water of vegetable stock
1 teaspoon of dark soy

1. Chop up the tofu as nicely as you can and put it in a large bowl. Drizzle over the sesame seed oil, soy sauces and pepper and mix gently. Taste and add more stuff if you'd like. Put the tofu in the fridge and let it get happy.

2. Put your water for the noodles on and start chopping up your vegetables.

3. In a pan, saute the ginger and shallots for about a minute. Add the curry paste and stir to dissolve. Add the cabbage and stock/water, reserving about 1/4 cup and cook for about 5 minutes, or until the cabbage is almost tender and the stock has reduced a bit.
(While the cabbage is cooking put the noodles in the water to cook.)

4. Add the spinach and the rest of the stock/water and cook until the spinach is wilted (about a minute or so). Add your noodles and soy and give it a good toss. Cook for another minute or so to let the stock and curry and soy get a all acquainted and almost syrupy.

5. Serve topped with the cold, marinated tofu and a little sprinkle of black sesame seeds.

6. Deny that you ever craved tofu!

*The next day, I made the same dish, but instead of the curry paste (which was too intense for my dear one) I used 2 teaspoons of dark soy, one teaspoon of light soy, some lime zest and a squeeze of lime juice. Different, but equally delicious.