Cool Noodle Salad for those Hazy Days

I think summer is here. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh... don't scare her away. The thunderstorms and steamy afternoons (and migraine headaches!) definitely mark the beginning of summer. So do strawberries and rhubarb in the market and an increasing urge to stay outside.


While a couple weeks ago I could get away with making soup and enjoying it despite the hot weather, I can't say that I could have done that for the past few days. Instead, a few days ago, I made a yummy, simple noodle salad that sat in the fridge and was enjoyed all week long. I used extra thin vermicelli, (but I think next time I might try cellophane noodles), sliced carrots, blanched broccoli and asparagus and dressed it with a lime, ginger and soy mixture. The final ingredient threw it over the top: Thai basil. Ever had it? It's definitely similar to Italian basil but with a sweeter and more licorice-y taste. When I smell it, I think of pho, that classic Vietnamese noodle soup that comes served with raw bean sprouts and tons of Thai basil that you just throw into the soup to cook. I used tons of it in this salad and it totally made the different between a great salad and a super-fantastic salad.



I used a combination of raw and cooked veggies, but if you were feeling lazy, you could stick with just raw ones. Cucumber would be very refreshing in this salad, as would sliced red peppers or even celery. For a bit more kick, you might want to add some chopped green onion, or use a fresh red chili in the dressing instead of the chili powder that I used. If you need a bit of protein in your salad, shredded cooked chicken would be perfect, as would some marinated tofu if you want to keep it veggie. Cilantro would have been a perfect herb to add as well, but try not to skip the Thai basil. If you don't grow it, you can usually find it wrapped in most Asian grocery stores. Personally, I'm ecstatic to have three little Thai basil patches growing on my balcony, because I plan to make this salad many more times this summer.

Now..what should I do with this big pot of spear mint that was given to me as a gift ......

Noodle Salad with Thai Basil
300g of dried, extra thin vermicelli (they come in little "cakes" -- I used three)
1 medium carrot, sliced into match sticks
1/2 head of broccoli, cut into bite sized pieces
1/2 bunch of asparagus, trimmed and cut in half
a big handful of Thai basil
a few sprigs of fresh thyme

juice and zest of 2 juicy limes
1 tablespoon of light soy
1 tablespoon of dark soy
1 teaspoon of grated ginger
1 teaspoon of dark brown sugar or honey
1 teaspoon of toasted sesame seed oil
1 teaspoon of canola oil
a pinch of cayenne pepper

1. Soak the noodles in cold water for a couple of hours. Drain, and dunk into boiling water for about 30 seconds. Remove (but keep the water to blanch your veggies) and run under cold water. Drain and put into a large bowl.

2. Blanch the asparagus and broccoli separately until tender. Drain and add to noodles. Add carrots and herbs and toss until everything is evenly distributed.

3. In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice and zest, oils, soy sauces, ginger and sugar. Taste and add more oil or sugar to your liking. It will be quite zing-y, but the noodles will mellow it out.

4. Pour 2/3 of the dressing in the salad and toss. Taste and add more if you like.

5. Serve immediately or chilled.

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.

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.