Watercress Pakodas

Ted Kennedy's diagnosis was surprisingly emotional for me. My uncle passed away of a similar tumor a few years ago.

Last weekend, since I was planning on frying, I decided to make watercress pakodas. This was a dish that my aunt loves. Apparently, she and my uncle would go across town to specific stand in one of the busiest markets in Bombay for these pakodas.

My uncle was very particular about food. He did the majority of the marketing. He knew how to spot the best mango; which stands cheated you; and when each vegetables were in peak season. I lived a world away from him, so I saw my uncle very rarely, but I still have strong memories of him. He was one mean Uno player and he purchased me my first kitchen (even if it was only 4 inches high.) And, when we would stumble out of the Bombay airport, exhausted and disoriented by the radical shift to our senses, and look into the sea of unfamiliar faces, he would be standing there in his crisp khaki pants and polo shirt, smiling. Anyway, enough of the memories, onto the food.

So, the one time I went across town to feast on these storied watercress pakodas, the stand was sold out. So, I made the same batter of besan flour and water that I would use in cabbage fritters. This was then mixed with 3/4 cup julienned watercress leaves, 1/4 diced onions, and 1/4 cup diced asparagus (my own addition.) I paired this with a coconut, watercress flower chutney.

It was not at all as wonderful as eating fresh pakodas on the street with my family, but it really made due.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Ras el Hanout

I am nothing if not dying to be au courant, ha ha ha. Actually, ras el hanout came into my life thank to that child molestor and tv "chef", Jeff Smith. He did a series of shows about world food, and the middle school me fell in love with Moroccan food. Even in the pre-internet world, I found a variety of sources about Moroccan food. And, then I started cooking, making preserved lemons and trying to fashion my own ras el hanout. Mind you, all the while, having never tasted actual Moroccan food. Now, much later, I have eaten Moroccan at restaurants in the US and France and I have made many more attempts at ras el hanout.

It is cool stuff these days; I keep seeing it in magazines and hearing about it on Top Chef. But, what I love about it is the fact that there is no right answer. It is the Moroccan equivalent of curry powder--a combination of spices that vary according family/store and region. For ras el hanout, expect cardamom, clove, cinnamon, paprika, coriander, cumin, nutmeg, turmeric, dried rosebud, and then up to 81 more spices and herbs. The resulting mix, with its rich complexity, is deserving of its more recent fame.

It is lovely on thickly cut roasted sweet potatoes and served alongside yogurt dip. This snack is satisfying and my entry for Weekend Herb Blogging started by Kalyn and run this week by Wandering Chopsticks.

NB: Do you prefer the first photograph, in which the sweet potatoes look as if they have been banished from their brotheren, or the second, in which the sweet potatoes look as if they are being served up at high noon in the desert?

Green Eggs No Ham

Last Saturday, while soft snores spilled out of my beautiful baby and hilarious husband, I was standing in a farmer's market line. It was near 7:00 AM, and I had morel and strawberry dreams. But, those were not to be, and I satisfied myself instead with asparagus and eggs. When I got home, the family was quietly waking.

My husband loves baked eggs, retro as it sounds. When we have too much stewed eggplant or ratatouille, which is not very often, I pull out the baking bowls. The prep is all of 10 minutes, and the meal is super satisfying. A whizz in the blender and quickly steamed asparagus, egg whites and parmesan cheese yield a lovely based for baked yolks.

Then tonight, I decided to take this one step further. I made asparagus souffles in egg shells. They were more work than baked eggs and more adorable but equally delicious and satisfying.

As my meals over lap with In the Bag (how nice of them to pick such an ideal combo), I thought i would send it over. ‘In The Bag’ is a food event run monthly by ‘A Slice of Cherry Pie‘ and ‘Real Epicurean’.


Recipe:

Asparagus Souffle

Using a sharp paring knive, nip the top off 4 eggs, pour out egg and then separate the yolks. (You will only use 3 whites and 2 yolks, but have enough filling for 4 eggs.)

Steam 1/2 bunch asparagus, chop and puree (use the steaming water to help). Add
1 t salt
1/2 t pepper
1/4 tsp mustard powder
two yolks
2 T flour
2 T parmesan cheese

Whip egg whites until still peaks. Fold the egg whites into the asparagus. Carefully spoon batter into the egg shell. Bake 5 minutes

A Less than Operatic Note: Opera Cakes

It has been a full 24 hours after the affair of the opera cake and I am still drained. There will be 100's of these cakes posted today, so there is very little more that I can say about mine. And, if yesterday I had possessed the energy to lift even one exhausted finger to the keyboard to peck out the tale of my little cakes' creation, well, there would have been a tale there.

But, now, I feel more subdued and resigned about the opera cake. L'opera is a product of the rarified French pastry world, but in my mind, these pastries are tied to Japan and all the fine bakeries that litter Tokyo. A few years ago, a slice of opera (I always ordered the dark chocolate type) and a cup of tea was easily over 10 dollars. And, having experienced the labor and the amount of dairy involved, I have come to think that might have been a steal.

For me, no single element was hard to prepare. Instead, our problems were three-fold: we decided to split the recipe to make two flavors; we decided to do it all as one marathon during Belle's afternoon nap; and we made mini-cakes.

This is a recipe that requires the baker to be prepared, to have a plan, and to be caffeinated. None of those things were true in our case. This meant that when the baby chose to take a 3.5 hour nap, we didn't argue. And, that when she woke up, we allowed some serious latitude in her behavior (running around with toast in her hand and ravaging the tupperware drawer) because we needed to finish assembly.

We were allowed to choose flavor combos as long as the cake remained light-colored. In addition, cupcakes were allowed. How could I turn this mini suggestion down? Well, I didn't. We made 1/2 an opera sheet cake with Mango and Ginger. And, then we made mini-mini green tea, almond, white chocolate cakes. And, but with the green tea, we broke the rules used dark chocolate ganache too (and chocolate butter cream for some). My favorite was the rule breaker, but that is the kind of girl that I am.


My husband is fairly confident the first instruction in next month's Daring Bakers' challenge will read, "sow your land with wheat, mill the first harvest into fine flour..." Ah, the joys of being an insane, I mean, daring baker.

And, while it might seem ungrateful, I am not. Thanks to this month's hosts Ivonne, Lis, Fran and Shea for a great challenge. This challenge was a wonderful way to hone your skills and to feel huge success. Hell, I made 2 opera cakes....

If you want more opera cakes, look at the Daring Baker Blogroll. For a great run down of the recipe, go to Rosie's Yummy Yums. The only thing I would add is, you don't need jelly rolls. I used pyrex pans but only poured the batter in at 1/2 inch thick.

Photographing the Farmer's Market

Hustle and bustle results in great photographs. That this adage is made up doesn't make it wrong. I am by no means an experienced or professional photographer. But, recently, I was trying to figure out why I am so happy with the pictures that I take when I go to the farmers market and these are my conclusions. If you are feeling like you can't take a good picture, take your camera to the market.

Photographs are about getting the right things in the frame. So, when you are photographing your dog licking the bone, you need both of those things. But, if you also get the tv cord and some old socks, these might distract the viewer. At the same time, it is also about luck. If you have your dog licking a bone and your husband running in with an empty casserole--hilarious. At the market, there are so many things happening that if you miss one moment, you will find another very quickly. And, for me, taking a camera to the market makes me more observant and in fact a better market-shopper.

Open air farmer's markets add to the photographer's bounty thanks bright light and engaging colors. None of these photographs were color corrected--the outdoor light is magic. While obviously, markets have strengths in terms of food stuffs. (Where else can you get nettles and Japanese asparagus?) Look for the most engaging item, and by that I mean, that thing which you love. Super into asparagus? Loving the radish? (They are my muse presently.) And, then set it down in film or digitally. If you like your subject, your photograph will be more interesting. Look for that detail and snap a couple images.


While the best produce is often gathered when purchasing early, those early morning photographs will have a very different quality than those taken near noon. The morning light (say 7:00 AM) will be even and diffuse. By Noon, that light will give you strong chiaroscuro. And, wouldn't that strong contrast be wonderful on something soft like lettuce or something ugly like Jerusalem artichokes? (Below the first picture was taken at 11:30 AM and the second at 7:00 AM)



Finally, markets are great place to take pictures of people. In this digital age, there are clear issues of privacy, so I have made it a personal rule to not photograph anyone without asking and I don't post faces on my blog. But, this of course is your choice. With people, take many more pictures, after all, unlike the vegetables, they move. And, anticipate the movement. If he is reaching into a bag, click the second before he reveals that perfect apple.

Frankly, you could have stopped at the fifth sentence in this postand still take great pictures; farmer's markets are the ideal novice photographer's venue.

RFJ: Almond Fried Chicken and Raspberry Sweet Potato Waffles

When I was living in Berkeley, I found myself spending too much on groceries. There were so many amazing items in the stores, and I would just go crazy. They say you should only shop on a full stomach, so I hatched a plan. I would eat a very filling meal. Roscoe's is a California tradition and its signature meal is Fried Chicken and Waffles. I haven't been to Oakland in years, but back then, you didn't need to ask directions to Roscoe's. You need only spot the line around the corner.

This combo has gotten some good press in the last few years, but if you are thinking "WHAT??!!??" I can only explain it this far...there are many who claim to have originated the pairing. It seems to have been a naturally occuring result of late night dining. Apparently at 2 O'clock in the morning, short-order restuarants would serve both dinner and breakfast. Many diners chose to partake in both and glory in the joy that is sweet and savory.

Recently, I was reading the Royal Foodie Joust ingredients to my husband. Two days later, just after I turned off the bedside light, I heard, "Fried Chicken and Waffles...Almond Fried Chicken and Raspberry Waffles." And, so it was born. Fruity, fried, crispy, crunchy, moist, sweet, savory, healthy (almonds and raspberries) and unhealthy.

And the lime you say? The lime linked the two components. There was lime juice in the chicken marinade, lime zest in the waffles, and lime juice in the coulis.

Did this work? If you accept the premise that there is culinary promise in the sweet/savory counterpoints, then yes. We had planned to make this for brunch during the holiday weekend, but we came to realize why everyone was standing in line at Roscoes--this is a lot of work to accomplish in the morning.

Recipes:
Almond Fried Chicken
The night before, soak 8 pieces of chicken (we used dark meat) in:
2 cups of buttermilk
1/2 cup almond milk
3 T lime juice

Drain the chicken, pat dry, and rest for 10 minutes.Dredge the chicken in 1.5 cup flour that has been seaoned with
2 T of salt
2 T paprika
2 t cayenne pepper
1/4 cup almond flour

Let the chicken rest 10-15 minutes.

Dredge the chicken in fresh buttermilk and then dredge in flour and sliced almonds

Fry in vegetable shortening (oh yes, shortening.) Or, if you go that way, lard....

Raspberry, Sweet Potato, Lime Waffles

(using a recipe modified from Spice Island Vegan and, well, bastardized, made non-vegan and served with meat. Sorry, Spice Island Vegan.)
Combine in a bowl:
2 1/4 milk
2 large sweet potatoes (about 15 oz), cooked and riced
1/4 cup oil
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Once the wet ingredients are combined, add the dry:
2 1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup almond flour
2 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 t lime zest

These rise! Do not overfill the waffle iron. Fill the waffle iron only halfway up.

Once they are in the iron sprinkle in the raspberries. We found whole raspberries messed things up so we used tiny chunks of raspberry--about 1 berry per waffle. In total for the whole batch we used about 1/3 cup frozen raspberries

Serve with Warm Rapberry Lime Coulis (use the juice and the rind), Maple Syrup, and Hot Sauce.

Ramp Vodka and Rhubarb Vodka

Last week at the market, when I bought my ramps, I informed the purveyor that I would be infusing vodka. The farmer looked past me for a moment, as if pondering the need for an intervention. After an awkward silence, I explained my planned uses: vodka tomato sauce, to finish sauteed mushrooms, to augment white wine in risotto. All of a sudden my plan seemed to make perfect sense. Since then, I have come to understand that this vodka is also great in bloody marys and dirty martinis.

Ramp flavored vodka is super easy. We followed the basic principals of vodka infusion set down at Burnt Lumpia. He used limes. Basically, use lower price range vodka, filter it through a water filter, and martinate your flavoring agent in the vodka for 1 week. Easy and fancy all at once--though my use of canning jars for the process takes down the fancy level considerably.

For the rhubarb hooch, I had a vague plan to make rhubarb wine. A friend who is an experienced brewer and drinker explained that this is easy but can turn bitter, so I tipped my foot into the world of rhubarb-flavored alcohol with a vodka infusion. In this recipe that I found, rhubarb infusion seems a more complicated process than the ramps. But, with that ramp success, I thought, bring it on. Has it succeeded? Ask me on September 15.

Cabbage Kimchi and a small Announcement

Swati of Sugarcraft mentioned in a comment on my Ramp Kimchi recipe that she would love my recipe for Cabbage Kimchi. In full disclosure, I have eaten at Korean restuarants, but I am most definitely not Korean and nor have never lived in Korea. My Kimchi experience is from a sincere love for kimchi and a natural born love of the pickled. In full disclosure, I am an Indian-American, and as such, from childhood, I have loved spicy preserved goods.
And, I really like to think of kimchi as the lovely (if odiferous) substantial cousin of achaar--Indian pickles. And, that to me is the essential difference. In my family, achaar is a condiment and accompaniment. I have been known to add Bedekar's lime pickle to yoghurt and cucumbers for a sinister dip for chips. My grandmother presaged the hot and spicy Cheetos by insisting the plain variety should ALWAYS be dipped in vadu mango achaar. Kimchi is closer to a side dish and eating it with rice would seem acceptable and even filling. I could never feel satiated eating rice with achaar--I would definitely need dal or a vegetable side dish.

Of course there are more practical differences. While both use salinated, hypertonic environments to hold off bacteria, kimchi also is fermented (another great method of preservation.) In addition, while salt is used to soften the cell walls of the vegetables in kimchi, in many pickles, but not all cooking is often used. I have a few more Indian pickles to post, eventually, but if you wish to read about cooking in Indian pickle recipes, look at my orange pickle recipe.

So that said, here is how we make cabbage kimchi. First, we accept the ridicule and derision that might occur from purchasing kimchi red pepper, chinese cabbage (substitute napa if desired), and turnips at a Korean grocery store. I almost never ever make kimchi without a radish, daikon, turnip component. I love their crunch. You can add shredded carrot, I often do. And to answer Modern Beet's question, spring green garlic would be great. Pea shoots are good. Nettle and sorrel work, but when added to cabbage. Rhubarb and spring garlic, it is weird but good. (Will post that eventually.)

Plan of action:

Cabbage and Turnip Kimchi
Cube a 4 inch piece of daikon or turnip. Remove the stems from 1 small cabbage and cut into thick shreds. Salt all the vegetables (use about 1/2 cup pickling salt, yes, 1/2 cup), reserve in a colander over a bowl. Squeeze the cabbage periodically.
Pour out the water and rinse these vegetables. Place in a non-reactive sealable container. Tupperware is fine but it will stain. Add:
2 scallions sliced
5 cloves garlic slivered
2 t sugar
2 T korean chili powder
1 T sesame oil
2 t ginger powder
1/4 cup soy sauce

Mash together this mixture with your hands, put in sealed container, leave out for 4 days and then refrigerate.

Pickled Ramp Kimchi over Rice

So, the sickly pallor has finally lifted from my daughter's eyes, and now she is all trouble all the time. I am fairly confident that she is attempting make up for lost time, because she is more active, more inquistive, more physical. Yesterday, we had only a few minutes to make lunch. There is a smidge more ramp kimchi left. I quickly fried up an egg sunny-side up, put it over sticky rice and added 2 or three leaves of kimchi. This might be an advanced use for kimchi because my husband abstained from this completely and opted for toast for breakfast. To each his own...

Pickled Ramp Bulb

Recently, we made ramp kimchi and we rejoiced. When any food stuff is a two-fer, it can be fantastic or perplexing. Think of that moment when you have made a couple batches of macarons, which incidentally have made your hold your breath all afternoon, and now you are looking into a bowl of 12 egg yolks, thinking what the hell. Well, of course you make flan, lemon curd and an egg wash. (Or to heck with it all, you cook up a couple up for the dog.) Way off track already, and I have 8 more ramp posts to go. Damn, this is really going to be a long evening.


So, ramp kimchi was mainly ramp leaves with just a few bottoms. So, what to do? Periodically, I lurk at Miss Ginsu (doubtless Ms. Ginsu younger, less feminist sister). They had a reproduction of Floyd Cardoz's Quick Ramp Pickles. Floyd is a man I have never met, but I have never ever disliked any of his recipes that I have cooked. And, this is no exception. It was fantastic, easy and satisfying.

When it was finally ready, the first thing we put them on were grass-fed beef hot dogs. I eat hot dogs very rarely, so I decided this one had to be super dolled up. And, this tart looked like she was, well, overdressed. She had Floyd's ramp pickles, hot mustard, red onions sliced oh so thin, and green tomato pickle. It was high/low brow and I ate it leaning over the kitchen counter because I couldn't wait to get to the table.

Ramp Kimchi, Masoor Dal and Potato Sandwiches

I have a terrible back log of ramp recipes to post. It seems sort of cruel to do so as the ramp season is over (at least in Northern Ohio.) But, as this blog is mostly a selfish exercise of journally our culinary adventures--I am just going to put these recipes down regardless of the present availability of these ingredients. (Apparently, I am hard-hearted inside.)

The ramp kimchi we made ages ago was fantastic and easy. As made commenters said, it is easily enough to do, and it would likely be good with green or fresh cultivated garlic. A few weeks ago, I wanted a hearty sandwich with my tea in the late afternoon. I had some cooked masoor dal in the fridge, so I microwaved a potato, chopped up some kimchi (1 tsp per sandwich) and put a heaping mound in two pieces of wheat bread. My sister-in-law's waffle iron is becoming my new friend (even if it doesn't approve of falafel making), and the result was spicy kimchi sandwiches. Best served with hot black tea.

These were such fantastic sandwiches--warm and spicy; I kind of wish I had one with me right now.

While there is no recipe, I think the point is two-fold: kimchi is great in a warm sandwich and if the dal is thick enough it can be used in a sandwich. Food-n-More has a sandwich event, so why not include this lovely?

Warm Mango Raspberry Oatmeal Smoothie

Motherhood contains with it a certain amount of grossness. The newest “eew” to me is hand, foot and mouth disease which should really be called “erupting sores all over disease.” Lost your appetite yet? Well, let me tell you, as there were some nasty suckers in her mouth, Belle sure did. And, frankly, thinking about those sores also made me loose mine. We have both been housebound for the last couple days, because I do not want to go down in history as the mother of Typhoid Maybelle.

I have been cooking soft food and pacing. I had dreams that my culinary results would be both enticing and curative. Of course, as she hasn’t eat anything I have made since Wednesday, excluding white rice and some mango oatmeal smoothie. It does indicate the power of the slightly warm oatmeal smoothie.

This smoothie is becoming a common blue plate (mug?) breakfast special here. It is full of good things (calcium, whole grains, fruit, fiber); it takes less than 10 minutes to make; and it is adorable when being slurped by a sickly toddler. And, it is of course good for me, too.

I have been fairly quiet about my identity, but I lets just say I am over thirty, Asian, and thin—the trifecta when it comes to osteoporosis. My cousin, freshly certifiable and a doctor, claims thirty years of milk consumption are not enough to counteract these risk factors, years of physical inactivity, and high caffeine consumption. In other words, I am about to hobble down a very painful road if I don’t take care of myself. My weight bearing exercise right now is the daily activity of lugging around 21 pounds of lovin’, but that is more than I did two years ago.

The food as medicine portion, including consuming calcium and whole grains, is much easier, tastier and enjoyable. And, this oatmeal smoothie is one great medicine. Heck, even a sore-ridden toddler agrees to that.

I have included this in the osteoporosis event by Food Blogga. Since I saw it listed, I knew that I should make a good faith effort to not only be part of the event but also read all the entries--for my health and belle's.


Recipe/Plan
Oatmeal Smoothie
Make one serving of oatmeal (not instant and not steel cut) according to the package directions

In a blender, whizz until crushed
1/3 cup frozen fruit (I used raspberries and mangoes)

Once the fruit is crushed add:
1/3 cup plain Greek-style yogurt (I used fat-free)

Whizz. Add soymilk to get the smoothie to the right consistency.

Pour 1/2 the oatmeal, when slightly cooled, into a tall mug, and spoon fruit over the oatmeal.

Makes two adult portions

Rebellion is Cool

The kitchen is a perfect venue for innovation and experimentation. Short of a grease fire or botulism, the consequences of failure are generally small. The benefits of success are delish.

But, kitchen innovation is about a mindset. A kitchen innovator has a healthy sense that recipes should be changed; tools should be used in a manner not planned by the manufacturer; flavors hereto uncombined are apt partners. In other words, a kitchen innovator is rebellious by nature. Of course, this kind of rebellion is well appreciated in the food world—Ferran Adria is basically a god for some. For me, I appreciate the home-bound brilliance.

One such spark of innovation to me was Aaplemint’s use of spoons in lieu of madeleine pans. I have one mini-madeleine pan but really need 4 if I want to make a full recipe. So, this innovation much appreciated. Good job, Aaplemint.

Arugula Flower Rotis

Life is about give and take. In the world of Indian flatbreads, a chapathi is light and soft but not substantial on its own. When one fills these little balls of dough and pan fries them, you get parathas. Parathas have the wheaty goodness of chapathis and are more substantial but lack their fluffiness. Give and take, I say.

In my mind, this fluffiness is worth loosing if the filling is tasty enough. The gold standard in my house is aloo paratha (starch filled starch.) For my cousin, the best paratha is mooli (radish). Fillings have their own algorithm of give and take--they should have a presence but not overwhelm all other vegetable accompaniments.

A couple of our vegetable purveyors at the farmers market have arugula flowers. They are sold plant and all in little baggies. Like broccoli flowers and watercress flowers, arugula flowers have but a small fraction of the piquancy of their foliage. For me, their strength lies in their delicate aesthetic features. Their pale grey veination upon a barely yellow ground gives them a fairy-wing-like quality. In fact, I purchased them on the basis of their look.

So many sites say arugula flowers are fantastic in salad, but we decided to make arugula chapatis and parathas. For the former, we placed the flowers into the dough and rolled then thin. We rolled these very thin. They looked like hand-made flower impregnated paper.

For the latter, we filled the dough with potato and the flowers, pan-fried them, and topped them with butter. The flower chapathis were fluffy, but the flowers imparted color not flavor. The parathas were basically aloo parathas. (In the future, I would have paired the bread with chickpeas and arugula chutney.)

These parathas and this post are my entry into Weekend Herb Blogging started by Kalyn and run by Sweetnicks.

Recipe
Potato and Arugula Flower Parathas
To make dough, mix in a shallow, flat bowl or pan:
1 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 teaspoon salt

Drop by drop add warm water until you get a sticky bread-like dough

Cover and set aside.

To make the stuffing, boil, peel, and mash:
1 large potatoes

Add:
1/4 cup onion, finely chopped
1 t cumin/coriander powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 Tablespoons fresh arugula flowers

In the palm of your hand, create small balls, flatten them, and then fill with a small amount of the filling. Gather up all the dough and then roll it out.

a mini-manifesto

Mini food is much nicer than maxi-food. Maxi food is stomach-bloating, hip-fattening, heartburn-inducing. The tiny food can be caught in one hand, enjoyed in one bite. It can realize the whole experience of say a cake, within just three bites. Who hasn’t had the sort of day where you dream of tucking into a whole cake for a whole lot of sweet therapy? When this moment of self-indulgent, well, indulgence, is over, if your cake was only 2 inches wide, then what was the harm? And, the mini affords the baker more opportunities to hone their craft, to make tiny sugar flowers, to, well, stay up all night carving tiki huts and the like. Mini is therefore a win-win prospect. what mini's can you make? mini-trifles, mini-cakes (quite a lot different from cupcakes), mini-pies, mini-pot pies. So, I say, make minis.

Tiny Kumquat Madeleine Citrus Curd Condensed Milk Trifle with ...

Alright, I was tempted to add something else to the title just for effect, but the actual elements are funny enough. I had all these elements on hand for various reasons the other day when I really needed something sweet. It is very rare that I yearn for a sweet, but when I do I lean towards the tooth-shattering. I had made kumquat madeleines as a gift. We also have more condensed milk at home than a Vietnamese coffee stand. Why? Lord knows. But, thanks to the French colonists of Indochine, we know that condensed milks lasts pretty well. And, then orange/lemon curd was quick to whip up.

The result was both refreshing and shockingly sweet. In the future, should somehow this perfect storm of citrus appear again in my refrigerator will I make this? Heck yeah. I have already come up with a plan to make up 15 or so for a late winter's brunch (when citrus is back in season).

This trifle is also my entry for this month's sugar high fridays: Citrus, an event started by Jennifer of The Domestic Goddess and run this month by Tartelette.

Recipe/ Plan
Blah blah blah Trifles
In a small cup or even a votive candle holder (as picture), layer madeleines [made in a mini-mold or with teaspoons (as invented by Aaplemint)] with cream or whipped cream and citrus curd.

Condensed Milk Cream
Mix vigorously 1/4 cup greek yoghurt with 1 T condensed milk.(This is good for 2 mini-trifles)

Citrus Curd
I followed this recipe from Fine cooking but halfed it. Also I used half lemon juice and half orange juice(This is good for 2 mini-trifles)

Taste and Create:Ma che ti sei mangiato's Morel Risotto Sans Morels

I am optimistic. Case in point, today. We went mushrooming and I knew that we would find one lovely morel. I live in the Great Lake Region, after all, a morel superland. Many people had found morels but a few miles from our friend's land.

My Taste and Create Partner, Rossella, had found morels recently and made a single serving of risotto. Mind you, she lives in that beautiful, blessed land called Italy--and lord knows that there are many more travelogues books about Italy than Cleveland. There were other lovely dishes on her Rosella's site, but the morel risotto just screamed to me. And, this recipe instilled more strength of conviction that my morel was out there waiting.


On Saturday, I ran to the market to purchase organic wild mushrooms--black and yellow cloud mushrooms, but knew that we would not be having these mushrooms in risotto. They would be put to use elsewhere, as my morel was out there.


And, then yesterday, we got all suited up to trek through the drizzles of rain. So, we went back to the land of ramps and looked hard. Along our path, we saw lovely jack in the pulpit, pink trillium and carpet-like swaths of moss. I photographed them half-heartedly, as I knew in my bones our morel was around the next corner. I was prepared to cut my little prize in half to confirm that it had no cotton in its surely hollow interior. As we chatted on our hike, I was considering with which bowl I would use to soak my expensive prize.

And, then finally, as we got to the end of my friend's land, our bag empty, it finally dawned on me--my morel was not out there. Alas....

There were many wonderful recipes at Ma che ti sei Mangiato. Mind you, I took only one course in Italian for Reading Knowledge, and with my dictionary and BabelFish, we read through her site. There was a very nice artichoke and proscuitto pasta too, and I particularly love reading about the dinners she served. If it was melon season, I would have definitely made her risotto with melon. I have bookmarked this one for the future. Finally, loking at our pantry, my husband and I made her lentil soup (which I will post this week), which was from 101 cookbooks, and mushroom risotto using our mushrooms.



The result was excellent, filling and satisfying, and it makes me say, who needs morel mushrooms. (Though, if I should ever come up a morel, I will completely change my tune, mind you.)

Grilled Halloumi and Asparagus Salad

The other day, my husband and I were discussing how true this blog is to us and our lives. Would we have made ramp gnocchi if no one was watching (if only virtually)? Anyone who has attended our home for any meal would know that the answer is yes. For example, when my doctor told me I needed to increase my calorie intake, we did not turn to fast food or portein powders, we turned to homemade pasta every Sunday. Point is, we have always loved to cook.

But, the blog has changed one major thing about my cooking--well, that is I have begun making dessert. My husband and I made desserts only twice a year up until this year--caramel cake for Thanksgiving and piselle for Christmas. Now, I have been making macarons, chocolate cakes, cupcakes, madeleines...well, many, many sweets.

These desserts, with their specific directions and measurements, can be insanely difficult, and I appreciate hard won successes. But, I don't have a sweet tooth. Usually the desserts go to work or to friends. If they should lie around, my husband has been known to indulge.

So, what to do? Healthy food. With the spring market, it is much easier to do this. So, for lunch today, we had grilled halloumi and asparagus salad. This was a quick, refreshing and satisfying lunch. Nourish me had such a lovely recipe for goat cheese salad that I felt moved to make a cheese salad for the No Croutons Required cheese salad event.

Recipe:

Grilled halloumi and asparagus salad
Cut into 1 inch pieces and steam:

6 young spears of asparagus

Slice very thinly (or even use a pealer)

2 small radishes

1 young carrot (yellow is pictured here)

In your serving bowl, smash one piece garlic with salt until a paste is forced. Add:
2 T lemon juice

3 T olive oil

a sprinkle of oregano

Grill hallomi until warmed but still firm. Cool slightly and diced.

Toss halloumi with dressing and then add vegetables. Serve over mache.

Pea Shoot Kimchi

I would love to believe that my recent obsession with all things preserved is something out of the primordial maternal portion of my brain. (Please let me live this fantasy.)

This party began near the end of citrus season. I adore citrus. I could eat a whole box of clementines in one sitting and still desire more. So, I made citrus preserves and pickles—lots of them. Slowly we are breaking out the various products. The orange pickle is ridiculously good, by the way.

More recently we have done quick pickles (ramps and green tomatoes), and then we moved on to kimchi. The first of these was ramp kimchi. These are so yummy that you will find yourself late at night standing in your pajamas eating them straight out of the jar.

And, then the kimchi party continued. The next kimchi was pea shoot kimchi. I have become ambivalent about peashoots. They can be silky and sweet, or else so tough you feel as if you might choke when eating them. The pea shoots we purchase recently were of the latter—all stems, abbreviated leaves. So, a long, slow sleep in bright red pepper seemed a fitting course for the shoots.

I have just begun to understand the complicated culture that is kimchi. As with Indian pickles, the variations seem endless. This empowered me to make my own variations. Ginger and garlic seem to play with many kimchis—but for my pea shoots, I went with only garlic. Why, well, I just did.

There are a few caveats—this is a fresh kimchi (even if that seems like an oxymoron.) As such, it doesn’t last forever. Second, pea shoots are apparently 98% water or something. I started with a nice large box of peashoots and finished with very little green in the kimchi. As such, this recipe below has more pea shoots and fewer carrots/daikons.

The result is nice—not ramp kimchi nice, but nice. The next step with this kimchi is to make it into soup. Come back and see.

As I would like everyone to eat kimchi (full of vitamin C and fiber), I am including this in Weekend Herb Blogging hosted by Gay from Scientist in the Kitchen and started by Kalyn from Kalyn's Kitchen.

Recipe
Pea Shoot Kimchi
Wash and dry:
1 large bunch of pea shoots—you need much more than you would think

Salt the greens liberally with kosher or pickling salt

Julienne and then salt:
1 small carrot
3 inch piece of daikon

After 1 hour, drain all the vegetables and rinse the carrots and the daikon. Mix with the pea shoots.

Create a paste of
3 T ground Korean chilies
4-5 ramp bulbs
1-2 cloves garlic
2 T garlic
2-3 T minced scallions
1/3 cup sesame oil
1 T amchur powder

Massage the vegetables with the paste and reserve in a non-reactive container. Eat after 1 day.

And, soon I will post the recipes where I used my kimchi....but here is a sneak peak.

Spring Ramp Gnocchi

Romance is an experience that is hard to define. If you asked me when I was 16, I would have no doubt said that it involved flowers, fancy dinners and jewelery (preferably platinum.) Much older, I have come to the conclusion that romance is complicated, tied to the moment, and, most importantly, ephemeral.

Spring is particularly romantic. After all, nature is in love at the time: the trees are in bloom, the robins are laying their egg. In Cleveland, after a winter cooped up with a toddler, the arrival of spring was particularly welcome. The spring market offered us so many lovely and welcome additions to our diet--nettles, pea shoots, morels and, of course, the wild spring leeks--ramps.

The Allium family is a sort of aphrodesiac--or more accurately they do promote comraderie and pairing. Only one person in a couple consuming garlic bread results in, well, no kissing. When both consume, anything is possible.

When our friend told us that we could forage for ramps on their wooded lot, we jumped at the chance. Like all good romantic experiences, the sweetness and enjoyment of the event snuck up on us.

My husband and I arrived at the lot just before sunset, bag and shovel in hand. The air was moist--it had rained this morning. On the way down to the river, as we passed the newly blooming primroses, we spoke. Nothing special, we just talked. When you spend so much time talking about work, bills, errands, babies, just talking is an incredibly romantic moment.

When we returned home with our ramps, the sun was just about gone. For my husband, Italian food is comforting and homey. The culinary prowess of his Nonna lives on-- a full decade after her death. The best of the Italian kitchen profits from the freshness and seasonality of the ingredients. Our ramps were in the ground only 1/2 hour before we cooked them.

Homemade gnocchi is one of my husband's favorite meals as it quick, filling, adaptable. Squash gnocchi with sage, potato gnocchi with tomato sauce, beet gnocchi with brown butter, ricotta gnocchi with zucchini blossom...well, you see the kind of wonderful cook that he is. For the ramps, the goal was something that didn't overpower these spring treats. We debated making a potato based gnocchi, as potatoes and ramps are a classic, but we went with ricotta, in order to achieve soft pillowy dumplings. The ramp gnocchi were delicious--light and fluffy. Sauteed ramp bulbs and bacon dressed our ramps.

We ate our dinner off one plate, snuggling on the couch. Ramps, spring, Italian food equals romance.

Recipe:
Ramp Gnocchi
Combine:
8 oz whole-milk ricotta cheese (that has been drained)
1 egg
¼ C grated Parmesan cheese
½ cup finely chopped ramps

Once this mixture is combined add
¾ cup flour

Work gently until a dough is formed

Let rest, roll into long snakes and then cut into bite-sized pieces. You may roll it against a fork to get the characteristic indentations.

Boil until they come to the surface—watch not to over cook them.

Dress with bacon and sautéed ramp bulbs or if vegetarian with ramp bulbs and pecorino.

Spring Preserves: Ramp Kimchi

When one of the multinational appliance companies did a global study of fridge needs, in Korea, they found that housewives sought a fridge with a special compartment to house the kimchi. Why segegrate their national dish? Because, the fermented dish of preserved turnip and or cabbage, can be stinky. Though have we not all learned that stinky can mean yummy? (Think cheese.)

There are two basic branches of kimchi--summer and winter. The latter is the more odiferous and the way that fall's bounty would be preserved for the long, cold Korean winter. I myself am partial to the turnip. Though, sticky rice with a fried egg, cabbage kimchi and an ice cold beer is a wonderful meal.

Spring kimchi or seasonal kimchi, on the other hand, spices up the best of the season for short-term storage. I am all about quick gratification, and I have some seasonal goodies that I wanted to preserve (if only for a few days.) So seasonal kimchi, we made.

The word on the street was that the ramp season is basically over. But, since I saw the Preservation announcement on You Say Tomayto, I say Tomahto, I knew I wanted to make ramp Kimchi. And, this was the weekend to do it.

While we have had a good long time fulfill this Preservation event run by Pixie and Rosie, I put this project off because, well, I didn't want to explain my kimchi plans to my friendly Korean grocer. We have three Korean grocery stores close by. I frequent two of them almost equally--I want all good local businesses to succeed. But, whenever I am making something Korean, they are fairly incredulous. (Actually, I have found this a hallmark of all ethnic grocers.)

I had everything I needed except the special Kimchi pepper. When we walked in, the owner was having a fairly animated (though jovial) conversation on the phone in Korean. "No", "not true", "important business decision" all seemed to be key elements of her point, whatever it was. I was secretly swearing at whoever was winding up this lady.

When she got off, the owner stated she remembered us from previous shopping excursions, and then asked why after all those years of marriage, we didn't have children. If this woman wasn't so loveable, I would have been peeved or claimed to secretly be a man. After this surprisingly intimate small-talk, we explained our plan to make kimchi. The chuckle was fairly slow at first, but then she began to mention our plan to the other patrons..."kimchi blah blah blah in Korean HA HA HA blah blah blah in Korean"

In the end, the owner actually seemed pleased that we were making kimchi. She suggested that we freeze any red pepper that we can't use. We left with her waving us good luck storming the castle--I mean good luck with your kimchi.

Note: We worked out this recipe from a Mark Bittman article with a cucumber kimchi recipe. There are other few ramp kimchi recipes that I found online, one here and another at No Recipes. In addition, there is a great article on kimchi making courtesy of the North Korean government. We decided to make our vegan because we have laid off seafood due to environmental concerns.

Ramp Kimchi

Wash and dry:
2 bunches ramp greens

Salt the greens liberally with kosher or pickling salt (1/3 cup or less).

Create a paste of
3 T ground Korean chilies
4-5 ramp bulbs
1-2 cloves garlic
2 T garlic
2-3 T minced scallions
1/3 cup sesame oil
1 T amchur powder

Massage the greens with the paste and reserve in a non-reactive container. Eat after 1 day.

The Rules of Taco Night

While I do all the writing for the blog, my husband and I share the cooking, photography, and baby chasing fairly evenly. And, taco night is my husband’s favorite. I don’t think he had it as a child; I certainly did not. But, he gets very excited when I pull out our bulk bag of frozen tortillas.

Recently, on a nice evening, my husband and I whipped up quick tofu tacos. There is no recipe, but instead a plan.

I decided to pass on our vegan (vegetarian) taco rules to Dhivya's AWED event:
For the base, we almost always use tortillas, but we have been known to use dosas and rotis made of maida. This base can be fried, but really that takes so much time, only do it when you have had a terrible day.
For the filling, I like something with protein and a varied texture. While we have been known to use TVP or processed fake meat, I have come to prefer scrambled tofu (cooked with veg. Worchestire, chili powder, and cumin). We often add chopped raisins, cinnamon and almonds to this “meat” taking a page from Rick Bayless. Or, we might use adzuki beans and black beans, smashed and refried and topped with fresh cilantro. Another good filling is frozen tofu that is shredded (which looks like chicken). This can be flavored with lemon, a smidge of tamarind, cinnamon and cumin and paired with sauteed mushrooms.
I am fairly convinced the toppings are what turns my husband on about Taco night. We usually have a number of toppings available, including soy or almond cheddar, shredded lettuce, slivered cucumber, julienned carrots, sliced mushrooms, olives, soy or regular yoghurt, queso fresco, cheddar. My husband makes a wonderful roasted tomatillo salsa and I make an enjoyable mango salsa that have both made there way on to tacos.

We often pair our tacos with brown rice, spanish rice, or black beans, but it is also good with sweet potato hash browns.

Mango Jam

Asthma sucks! Yesterday, I had to go home from work early thanks to my over-acheiving airways. (Something about me has to achieve above averagely.) And, as I was running out of work to go home, I realized I had a meeting I couldn't miss. Luckily, I have friends who step in.

As I was lying on the couch coughing, my husband whipped up some cookies to give my friend and filled them with a quick mango jam that we had at home. For the jam, we used the recipe at Mahanandi, but we added 1 pod of cardamom to the pot. I also put in 1 tsp of pectin to make this set up more. Rather than a jam, this recipe is sort of a preserve.

For the cookies, we used a recipe from Veganomicon--but we baked them only 7 minutes. I have made these cookies before, but I remembered that I put it 1 T more oil than the recipe, only 2 t of rose water, and I rolled them out very thick (1/4 inch). They are sweet but match the slightly sour mango preserves.

Beet Amaranth Pilaf or Gruel: Now serving the finest prisons

Tonight I observed two phenomena that reiterated certain inalienable truths: online recipes lie and toddlers have the most capricious tastes. This tale begins with the former. In the height of the vegan days, when Belle wouldn't eat any meat, I started to focus on protein sources. Quinoa, a South American seed, is a complete protein, the only one in the vegetable world, and is also a great kosher for Passover side dish to boot. So, in those heady days (well, January, actually) when I was dipping into the waters of alternate grains and flours, I purchased some amaranth. Those little seeds just sat in their bulk container for a few months, and then today, home sick from work, I read more about amaranth. Many vegetarian sites promised an easy, tasty, fluffy pilaf like side dish. Only 15 minutes they told me. So, like a true-believer, I just went with it. And, then thirty minutes later (having added a bit more water to keep it from burning), I found that instead of pilaf, we would be having gruel for dinner.

Hell, the life of bourgeousie is a bit like a cultural prison, so we decided to chow down on our gruel. I had planned a beet, orange and goat cheese pilaf, as I had read about beets and beet combos recently on Modern Beet and nami-nami. So, we had roasted beets ready and waiting. I tossed the combo together, creating the most lovely claret pebbles of amaranth. The flavor was quite nice--earthy, nutty, crunchy--however there was an undertone of slimy that might have been difficult for the texturally specific.

But, surprisingly enough, it was not difficult for Belle. Self volition is a theme of the second year of life, and she has chosen to nod "no" to many food offerings that she has previously loved. She has spent the last three weeks refusing most things green. (Not that it has stopped me from offering them.) But, apparently, amaranth gruel with oranges, beets and beet greens (no unpasteurized goat cheese for the baby) was a stunning success. Yum she told me. Then there was the licking of lips. And then, she began to dip her bread into the gruel. Finally, she just dipped her fingers in and pushed it towards her mouth. All I can say is GO FIGURE.

Buddhist (mock) Shrimp Dim Sum

The universe has been pushing me to attempt to sculpt my food. A few weeks ago, on the Gourmet show on PBS there was a whole episode about food impersonator (fine cakes, Michel Richard). In that episode, there was a whole thing about Buddhist Thai cuisine with its amazing meat simalcra. Then, today, on Kylie Kwong, there was another mention of Chinese Buddhist cuisine. I felt moved to make some fake shrimp; those crustaceans are so small that it should be easy to fake them. There is a virtual Chinese Take Out dinner party going on at Mochachocolatarita to celebrate her 88th post, and I thought all signs were pointing to me making a Buddhist Vegetarian dish to take to the party.

Very strict Buddhists are vegetarians. In many places (China, Japan, and Thailand), a specific cuisine grew up around these monasteries. One of the highlights was the use of high quality and realistic "meats." For the shrimp, I used eggplant. I looked all over the internet to figure out what the real Buddhist shrimp was made from, but I couldn't find out (duck is often made of tofu and yuba, and ham from seitan). So, I decided eggplant had a similar texture.

I wanted to use the shrimp in something that would highlight its brininess. So, I settled on dim sum. While it isn't strict take-out food, it seemed like the best thing for my fake shrimp. I have had Chinese Dim Sum by Lee Hwa Lin for almost twenty years but I have not once made dim sum (though I have read it cover to cover many times). Intermittently over the years, Chinese restaurants in Cleveland have had passable dim sum, and I have had excellent dim sum in San Francisco, London and Hong Kong.

The dim sum standard shrimp rice noodle seemed perfect. As this was a whim, I didn't have the energy to make rice noodles. I used a rice paper wrapper.

To get the flavor of the sea (I won't say shrimp), I boiled eggplant with asofoetida, konbu, salt, sesame seeds. Then I decorated my briny lovelies with vegetable-based food coloring. I topped the dim sum with garlic chives and tamari. Paired with jasmine tea, this was enjoyable and filled the void of the original--though it wasn't really like it.

Wild Garlic Chutney Sandwiches

A few weeks ago my husband and I found wild garlic in our garden. We have always known it was there, but we were never quite moved to use it. Foraging requires unlearning certain social beliefs--good food comes from markets, farmers grow your food; all vegetables are cultivated. I should say I am a big fan of vegetable cultivation; I can't imagine the wild artichoke is anything but choke inducing. While the cultivated often beats its wild cousin for volume, size and therefore edibility, the wild is often a small punch of flavor. There must have been something luscious that rewarded the first person who suffered through that choke that induced him/her to selectively breed this vegetable. The wild asparagus is something so lovely that it induces stalking.

Some foraged items, like ramps and dandelions, are becoming extremely fashionable. What I have come to enjoy about the foraged is the strict seasonality. It is very specific to a moment in the year; April in Cleveland. Most things these days can be put off and consumed at any time(think Tivo), but ramps come at only one time. So, recently we went to a friends house to harvest ramps and wild garlic. Now, we have been trying different ways to use them.

The wild garlic doesn't have the heat of its plump cultivated cousin. It is often considered a weed by many gardeners, and is apparently difficult to iradicate. So, it is my suggestion to give up the fight and just eat it.

You will be rewarded with a pleasant lightly kick. For the last of my wild garlic from this haul, I wanted to do something that highlights the allum loveliness and subtly. So, I decided to use it raw. When I was a child, my mother used to make chutney or pickle sandwiches. She would take processed white bread (a stand-in for the double roti of her youth), slather it with softened sweet butter and then spread it with whatever leftover coconut chutney or pickle she had in the fridge. This she paired with hot tea. (I drank milk as my accompaniment.)

This is my first ever entry for weekend herb blogging hosted this week by Laurie at Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska (who herself included a recipe and instructions for foraging--though from reading her entry there are much more exciting foraged greens in Alaska than Cleveland). It this seems hardly right to include it, as it is almost not a recipe. It is more of a suggestion to all of you to use that wild garlic and look in your garden for other wild foods.

There is one caveat--harvest ethically by only taking a small portion of what you find.

Recipe:
Wild Garlic Chutney
In a cast iron skillet, brown
3 T coconut
1 red chilli

In a pestle, grind
2-3 wild garlic plants (green and white)
1 stalk of chives

Add the browned coconut and combine. Salt to taste (I added a tiny pinch)

Spread the chutney on buttered toast or eat with rotis.

Ramp Spanish Tortillas

My husband loves a frittata/ spanish potato tortilla. In his bachelor days, this was his "go to dish" as he would say. I have never made one. But in near a decade, I have never needed to; that is my husband's job. A few weeks ago, my husband made a frittata with potatoes and ramps. The result, which we paried with green olives, was lovely.

Baby Loves Violets

Will I eat what my mother makes me? Will I not? With a toddler, I have learned that it is really a 50-50 prospect.

Homemade Lemon Pickle in Spicy Beef Soup

We had cooked rice noodles and brisket in the fridge. It was 9:30 and we were starving. So, what was there to do? Spicy beef stew. We topped the noodles with cooked brisket, finely shredded cabbage and a good dollop of homemade lemon pickles.

But, I must say, the spicy orange pickle was FANTASTIC. It was so much better than most storebought pickles (though I have never seen orange pickle per se in stores.) It was so easy, if you are reading this, you should stop and make some yourself.

Market Day Russian Style:

I am in the midst of reading War and Peace, a novel that I hope to finish this year. While this lovely novel (so far) highlights the Francophilia of the Russian urban aristocratic class, reading it still makes me dream of Russian food. The east side of Cleveland has a large population of post-Soviet (and Soviet) era immigrants. And with immigrancy, there are the requisite restaurants, grocery stores and video stores. Today, we visited the Overseas Imports in East Gate Plaza. This was my first visit to this little market, but not my last. I was truly impressed. It was clean and organized. I have never really experienced Eastern European food in its glory. Well, I know those items that are part of the Jewish-American kitchen—kasha, lox, blintzes. And, my friend M—, of Polish descent, makes lovely pierogi (and her mother even lovelier ones). But, much of the creamy salads, borschts, and dilled potatoes existed only in textual sources.

It was an interesting experiment to walk into a grocery store without any preconceived desires or taste memories. Asian grocery stores have always been part of my life—depending on the type of market, I can imagine a good percentage of what the wares might taste like. But, everything at the Overseas Imports seemed new to me. There was a aisle of jarred, whole tomatoes. In fact, there was a whole selection of summer’s bounty (fruits, beets, mushrooms) encapsulated within brine, vinegar, sugar syrup. I had this feeling of sitting in an old Russian home in St Petersburg eating thick brown bread and currant preserves off chipped china while watching thick snow drifts. Preservation seems to me to be a cultural coping mechanism against long winters in Russia. Of course, preservation also leads to wonderful taste sensations. Even with refrigeration and the ability to have cucumbers all winter long, we still eat pickles with our sandwiches.

This isn't to say it was all cold winter food. There was a fair share of levity--it in the form of sweets. There were some lovely, Francophilic cakes. There was one reminicent of an opera cake that really tempted me. And, then there was a wall of candies. As I was wandering the aisles with Belle in one arm, I didn't even attempt to peak into the bins. Afterall, I had barely entered the store, and wasn't about to be thrown out because my 2 year old had chosen to pillage their candy supply.

This was a quick trip, so I didn’t leave with much—some interesting rosehip jam, some cute Easter biscuits, and hot Russian mustard. This evening, I am still kicking myself for missing out of the cheeses and meats at the deli stand. If you can bear the Mayfield Road construction, this is a must visit grocery store.

Violet Pea Soup

I am fairly confident that I have lost most of the interesting articles that I have read on the Internet—so I can’t cite this. But, somewhere I read that peas and violets are a lovely taste combo. I planned to make a pea soup with violets, but instead we had rice noodle soup with a pea-like combo salad. How? Well, I wanted rice noodles and I wasn’t very interested in blending anything. We combined pea, fava beans and soy beans (frozen and quickly microwaved) with red onion, diced carrot and a smidge of sesame oil and some rice wine vinegar. We used this salad as a topping for rice noodles that were boiled in vegetable broth. And, then we topped the whole thing with a huge handful of violets.

The result was good—but I wouldn’t say this was the showcase for my flowers. I have read that the purple violets are sweeter, so perhaps it also could have been the flowers. But, hey, they didn’t negatively affect my soup either. Well, hopefully the other violet adventures are more successful.

Cleveland Cupcake Project--Lest you forget

It’s a sunny Sunday in Cleveland. All of the bakeries near my house have the day off. But bright and early tomorrow morning, there will be bakers all across Cleveland making fluffy, yummy cupcakes. When you have gotten fed up with the politics of work, where will you turn for your cupcake needs? Well, the Cleveland Cupcake Project can help. We already have two early entries—one at i heart cleveland and one at Heights Eats. And, while both bloggers are clearly trustworthy, why take their word for it? Go out and search for your own favorites, write about it and then tell me. (Feel free to use the logo in your entry.) The directions and rules for the Cleveland Cupcake project are here. And those without blogs, please remember to email your fav (with a picture) rather than leaving it in a comment.

And, this doesn’t have to be a solitary event at all. Join your fellow man in this endeavor. Mr. Epicure at Cleveland Epicure will be eating his way through the West Side Market for the event; he is a man who clearly embraces a challenge. My co-workers and I will be planning a lunch date at work where we will bring in cupcakes from around town to taste (and photograph.) Go forth, I say, and eat your way across Cleveland’s bakeries.

Cleveland Beautiful

Tuscany is extremely lovely. Provence, as well. These might be indisputable truths. But, recently, I have been considering the role of the viewer, the documentarian, the photographer, and the writer in our understanding of beautiful locales. These intercessors give us ideal moments, parsed and polished for consumption. Blogs, like Lucillian Delights which exhibits the ideal Tuscany, use wonderful photography to express the perfect moments and elements of those places. While Tuscany has often been called an earthly heaven, what about those of us who in live in more pedestrian places?

Familiarity breeds blindness when it comes to looking for beauty in one’s natural and built environments. If you were asked to describe something beautiful on that building on the corner that you pass everyday, could you? How do you look at your hometown for the beautiful? Look and continue to look. Describe and describe again.




This is the exercise that I have began with my hometown—Cleveland. We took a vacation one afternoon a few weeks ago to Cleveland’s Chinatown and we brought our camera. Food is central to all our vacations. We began with a return to our courtship favorite, Siam Café. It is embarrassing how often we used to dine at this pan-Asian restaurant when we lived in the city. The menu features Chinese, Thai and Vietnamese items. For old time’s sake, we got fried spring rolls with plenty of hot mustard. Iced coffee with its chicory undertones is the ideal counterpoint to the crispy, oily rolls.

Shopping was our next order of business. We wandered in and out of Asian grocery stores. Ostensibly, we were in search for pak choi and mizuna seeds, but mostly we were observing. I have run into these specific markets before to grab this or that. Preparation prevents observation. During this trip, we were purposefully wasting time. Oxymoronic as it sounds, recently, I have found I have to schedule doing nothing. So, we wandered up and down talking about what looks interesting, pretty, cool.

We ended the 2 hour vacation with a take-out cake from Tastebuds. I must say this was weeks ago, so I can’t describe the cake accurately. My memories of it were of a moist cake with an interesting spice-infused frosting.

I drive through this part of Cleveland often. On a busy day, driving through, you might only see a grouping of nondescript brick buildings. While many of the signs are in Chinese, otherwise, it could be perceived as any part of the urban Midwest. But, so much of it is, attractive and interesting. It is not quite Tuscany, but hell, Tuscany isn’t Cleveland.

For a rundown on groceries stores in China Town, read this entry in A View from the Kitchen.