Pear Shaped Circle

Book review: Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter

2009-11-28T10:19:00.001-05:00

Holidays out of town with the 'rents have rendered me nonexistent online. I know you missed me!

Finished Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter and it was just okay. To be cheesy and in spirit of the book, it was 1 part indulgence, 2 parts Kitchen Confidential (Bourdain) and 2 parts staff manual of Per Se. Served with a Naomi Wolf inspired foam.

A chicken in every pot

2009-09-13T20:34:00.009-04:00

With the start of football season, I'll find myself with a chunk of time at home while I watch the game. During this time, I like to cook. I have had an unusual aversion to cooking a whole chicken for awhile. I feel like a good cook should have a reliable roast chicken recipe and I have been reluctant to try my hand at it. I have seen so many different ways to roast a chicken: brine, don't brine, high heat, low heat, stuff, don't stuff -- that it makes my head swim.

However, I have been wanting to try America's Test Kitchen French Chicken in a Pot because it looked simple and relatively difficult to screw up. This came out well. It makes a kick-ass jus, but I'll need to adjust my cooking times next time. I think the breast was a little dry.

French Chicken in a Pot

from the January/February 2008 edition of Cook's Illustrated

The cooking times in the recipe are for a 4 1/2 to 5 pound bird. a 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 pound bird will take about an hour, an a 5 to 6 pound bird will take close to hours. We developed this recipe to work with a 5 to 8 quart pot with a tight-fitting lid. If ueing a 5-quart pot, do not cook a chicken larger than 5 pounds.

1 whole roasting chicken, giblets removed and discarded, wings tucked under back
2 teaspoons kosher salt or 1 teaspoon table salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion, chopped medium
1 small celery stick, chopped medium (about 1/4 cup)
6 medium garlic cloves, peeled and trimmed (I smashed them and roughly chopped them)
1 bay leaf (I didn't use it as there weren't any around)
1 medium spring of rosemary (this added such nice scent)
1/2-1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

1. Adjust oven rack to lowest position and heat oven to 250 degrees. Pat chicken dry with paper towel and season with salt and pepper. Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium heat until just smoking. Add chicken breast-side down; scatter onion, celery, garlic, bay leaf and rosemary around chicken. Cook until breast is lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Using a wooden spoon or tongs inserted into cavity of bird flip chicken breast side up and cook until chicken and vegetables are well browned, 6 to 8 minutes. Remove Dutch oven from heat; place large sheet of foil over pot and cover tightly with lid. Transfer pot to oven and cook until an instant read thermometer registers 160 degrees when inserted in the thickest part of the breast and 175 degrees in the thickest part of the thigh, 80 to 110 minutes.

2. Transfer chicken to carving board, tent with foil and rest 20 minutes. Meanwhile, strain chicken juices from pot through a fine-mesh strainer into fat separator, pressing on solids to extract liquid; discard solids (you should have about 3/4 cup juices). Allow liquid to settle 5 minutes, then pour into saucepan and set over low heat. Carve chicken, adding any accumulated juices to saucepan. Stir lemon juice into jus to taste. Serve chicken, passing jus at table.

I had more jus because instead of using the vegetables as written, I had 2 cups of chopped carrots, onions, celery, and garlic that I use for a base of a lot of recipes that need aromatics.

This paired with Jacques Pepin's Potatoes Fondantes was a nice homey meal.

We are family.

2009-08-10T22:21:00.002-04:00

Lately, I've been thinking about the roles and relationships we're brought up with and continue to propagate. I have always thought that sometimes we are no more than the product of our birth order. I fully believe that a lot of the kind of person I am has a lot to do with the fact that I am the oldest child.

I'll guess at a person's birth order and have been right more than wrong. Babies of the family are easiest to tell. It's interesting because I see a common thread in many of them. They foster these relationships that reinforce that they are the babies in their families. A secondary mother, a big daddy, a parental proxy. A friend of mine, in an extreme drunken state, would pull these idiotic antics. When being admonished, he would grin this impish grin meant to be endearing, like a child who knew he was being naughty but cute and could get away with it. To me, it was a reinforcement of his birth order. He was the baby of the family.

I know this sounds like an indictment of the youngest sibling, it's not meant to be. I just have been lately surrounded by those who are the babies of their families and am noticing it.

It's not easy being green

2009-07-20T21:49:00.006-04:00

I've been cooking up a storm lately. When I'm stressed, I cook. Of course when I'm done cooking, I have no desire to eat what I've been slaving over and smelling for the last couple of hours.

Whipped up a batch of chimichurri over the weekend and have been trying to figure out ways to use it outside of slathered over a medium steak. Most recipes I reviewed stated that the sauce is only good for a few days. Not sure why as it's just herbs, oil, lime juice, but I guess the potency of the hebal notes would dissipate over the course of a few days.

My version of arroz verde is the second best use of the chimichurri sauce. Recipes below.

Chimichurri
1 part basil
1 part mint
1 part garlic
2 parts cilantro
2 parts parsley
1 lemon, zested and juiced
2-3 serrano or jalepeno peppers
salt to taste
olive oil

Take all the herbs and the lemon juice and zest and pulse in a food processor until fine. Turn on the food processor and stream in olive oil until the consistency preferred. Add salt to taste.

Some chimichurri recipes are a lot of oil so the herbs swim in it. I prefer a loose pesto like consistency that is spreadable. Almost any herb can be added to this. This is what I had on hand from the farmer's market. The proportions are also subject to preference. I like something that's got the balanced grassy notes of parsley and not just cilantro. I didn't have any oregano on hand, though I've added it in the past. I love the floral notes of the mint and basil.

I love to slather this on a steak. I've mixed it with cream cheese for a dip. And the arroz verde below is incredible.

Arroz Verde
3 cups chicken broth
2 cups basmati rice (any long grain rice should do, but I love the nutty smell of basmati)
1 teaspoon of salt
3 tablespoons of chimichurri

Bring the chicken broth to boil in a saucepan. Add the rice and salt and 1 tablespoon of the chimichurri. Reduce to a simmer and cover. Let it simmer for 20 minutes or until the broth is absorbed. Dump the rice into a large bowl and toss with a fork with remaining 2 tablespoons of chimichurri.

Eat!

Sticks and stones my break my bones. . .

2009-07-10T08:36:00.003-04:00

Yikes! Okay, so I really suck at updating, but that's okay because no one is reading this anyway.

Just got back from a road trip, and it occurs to me that I use language pejorative to women a lot when I drive. It's automatic for me to use such as "pussy-assed driver" and "douchebag." While I realized their roots are sexist, as a woman, I'm not offended when someone uses those words most of the time. Is insult in the eye of the beholder?

Some of this speaks to the recent Perez Hilton/Will.I.Am spat where Hilton claims called W.I.A. a "faggot" knowing that it would be a wounding insult to W.I.A. to call him a homosexual. Many communities have struggled with claiming back depreciatory labels that have once been used to marginalize them and instead using them to empower themselves. It seems the debate on "nigger" comes up every few years as the African-American community debates on its usage. The Gay community has done the same with "faggot." Third-wave feminists would probably make the same argument for "cunt" and the words I use above.

I've never sat right with the "I can use it because I am it" because it seems hypocritical. And yet, as a woman, as an Asian, I have rationalized my usage of "cunt" (in extreme cases), "douchebag" (which is my new replacement for "asshole"), and "slanty-eyes" (only in reference to me). Of course there is also the side that is, if I'm amongst friends, be they female or Asian, I know their words are used with affection although they might be completely insulting my mother and my parentage. Obviously we're not always politically correct or refined and are familial and casual with friends and family.

But is keeping it out there, using the pejorative terms, perpetuating the underlying sexism, racism, prejudices that still exist in our society. What do we do about it? Does this fall into moral relativism where usage can only be reflective of intent and in context or is there a universal standard that says usage, regardless of context, is detrimental and only serves to further embed these prejudices into our collective subconscious.

Alone in the Kitchen

2009-03-24T20:43:00.003-04:00

I love to cook. There's something soothing, comforting about creating a meal. Spent a weekend with friends who just had a baby, and I had to restrain myself from channeling my inner Jewish mother and cooking up a storm for them to reheat. I did so when my godson was born. I visited him when he was less than a month old. While my friend tended to the baby (not as much downtime as I thought there would be), I cooked and kept house. A hot meal was on the table when her husband came home. It was probably the closest I'll ever get to being a housewife.

Oddly enough, after cooking, the last thing I want to do is eat what I've cooked -- especially in cases where I've cooked all day and the whole apartment smells like food. For a person who lives alone, I also suck at cooking meals for one. I am incapable of cooking less than 4 servings. Ironically, I hate leftovers. My freezer is always full of extra servings of chili, pasta sauces, braised meats. Having my brother and/or his friends living in the same building as me saved me from having to deal with them. Slowly, I'm building a network of co-workers who are more than willing to take extra food off my hands.

Tonight though I made probably the only dish that I can successfully make for one and not have leftovers: spaghetti carbonara. It's my current go-to comfort dish.

Spaghetti Carbonara for One

Put some water on to boil.
Mix one egg, 1/3 cup of grated parmigiano-reggiano, and a tablespoon of heavy cream in a large bowl.
Mince half an onion.
Mince some pancetta.
Saute the onion and pancetta in some olive oil.
Add red pepper flakes, chopped garlic, salt, and pepper to the onion and pancetta mix to taste.
By now, water is boiling. Add lots of salt. Add pasta and cook per package instructions.
Continue to cook the onion and pancetta mix until the onions are lightly browned and pancetta cooked through.
Add a splash of white wine or vermouth. Cook until the alcohol reduces.
Set onion and pancetta aside to cool slightly.
By the time the pasta is ready, the onion and pancetta is cooled enough to be added to the egg/cream/cheese mixture.
Reserve a cup of pasta water and drain the pasta.
Dump the pasta into the bowl and toss.
Add pasta water if the dish seems a little dry.
Season with salt, pepper, more parmigiano-reggiano to taste.
Mangia!

This time I used lemon juice and zest as a nod to the season, regardless of the weather. I didn't use any white wine or vermouth. Instead I added the juice of half a lemon and the zest of half of a lemon to the egg/cream/cheese mixture. It was a nice change.

Bad blogger

2009-03-22T12:24:00.000-04:00

I am such a bad blogger. I should do better.

One of my birthday resolutions was to be better about this. Other than that really, I don't celebrate my birthday. So here's to another year of complete disregard for age-appropriate developmental milestones.

Spring is coming back. The weather is gorgeous today and I can see the starts of the season's vegetation in the farmers' market. Spent way too much at the market and this was me being restrained. I didn't buy nearly as many vegetables as I would have liked. With the longer days, I think I'm going to try to cook on weekdays again. This also means that I have to force myself to leave the office at a more reasonable hour. Did it twice last week and it felt decadent.

Speaking of longer days, I think my body has finally adjusted to daylight savings time -- only took 2 weeks. I'm getting up an hour earlier (which is when I should be getting up anyway) and not cursing the morning. . . well not cursing the morning more than I usually do. I really should examine my sleeping patterns and come up with a more adult schedule. Staying up and watching Carson Daly - which I don't even really like - is ridiculous.

On a sad note, schlepping back from the market, I lost my coin purse. It was this small purple leather purse that I've used for years to carry change and money. On occasion I've just shoved a credit card, driver's license and whatever cash on hand in it and run out the door. It must have fallen out of my pocket somewhere today in the 4 blocks from the market. I mourn the loss of the purse more than the $40 it held. It was a gift from a dear friend and was useful.

Oddly enough, for a girl who has some committment issues with regards to relationships, I have strong attachments to the things I use in my life. I love it when I find a bag that really fits my day-to-day life and will use it in almost all situations, even when it's not wholly appropriate or matches my outfit. I got really angry when the shampoo and conditioner I've used for years stopped production and am still not sure the replacement product I now use is as good. I'm oddly brand/version loyal which makes me a crappy warehouse shopper.

Vomitus Interruptus

2009-02-21T20:28:00.004-05:00

Gah! I hate being sick. I'm sure no one enjoys it, but right now in my utter illness-driven selfishness, I am the one who hates it the most. It's not the symptoms themselves that I loathe: the coughing, congestion, ear infection, etc.. It's the malaise that strikes me when I am truly sick that bothers me. I'm not ill enough to confine myself to my sickbed, but getting anything else done is too exhausting to consider. It's this energy-sapping listlessness that drives me batty. I hate the way my tastebuds are affected. Cooking like this is no good. I hate the mental fog that I can't seem to shake.

I return you to your normally scheduled programming.

Musings

2009-01-09T11:52:00.000-05:00

I find it ironic that a race track driver is shilling for a GPS device.

I hate it when my sinuses get all dry because of the heaters indoors.

Oprah is coming to DC for inaugural week. It is going to get ridiculous in this town mid-January. She's renting out the Kennedy Center for her show.

I really like Amy Winehouse's song Rehab but feel bad about enjoying it given her current condition.

I have this funny image in my head that Andrea Mitchell and Alan Greenspan get home at night, open a bottle of wine and watch trashy reality-tv to unwind.

I get a unnatural sense of satisfaction when texting the word "going". My fingers rock back and forth between the 4 and 6 number keys.

Why am I watching this?

2008-12-22T16:51:00.004-05:00

Taking some time off before I travel for the holidays, and I'm watching Jon & Kate Plus Eight. I am 2 parts horrified, 1 part amused, and 3 parts wholly grateful that I do not have nor want children.

I can't stop watching it -- mostly because there's nothing else on right now and I'm biding my time until the block of NCIS on USA starts -- but I actually get stressed out watching this family. Seeing the kids swarm someone actually makes me twitch. I appreciate that this family is a real family and that the parents are a real couple, but damn, nothing about this show makes me want to settle down, get married and have kids. More than anything it has the reverse effect on me. Seeing the commercials for the Duggars (17 and counting) creeps me out as well.

I have to change the channel.

Whistle While You Work

2008-12-05T18:05:00.005-05:00

So I have this habit of whistling when bored. I won't even realize I'm doing it until someone stops me. I used to do it in lectures when in school which is probably the worst time to whistle. I'm not winning any whistling competitions but most times someone can tell what I'm whistling. My mother gets after me about the wrinkles it will cause, so I find myself massaging my mouth. No clue if it does anything, but it makes me feel better.

I even whistle while walking down the hallways at work and folks usually use it as a barometer of how I'm feeling that day. To them whistling = happy which isn't the case for me. Rarely am I happy at work.

I wasn't always a whistler. I used to sing regularly in grades K-12 and once out in the real world, I think I missed hearing the music daily, so I started to whistle. Now, I'm not even aware of it and will start whatever tune is in my head. I'm highly susceptible to earworms so there's usually some god-awful song that needs to be expunged from my brain.

So today instead of whistling because I'm bored, I decided to blog. Maybe I can replace one unconscious habit for another.

Baby it's cold outside

2008-11-18T23:14:00.006-05:00

Brrr. . . it's cold in here. There must be some Toros in the atmosphere

Okay, so a cheerleading song isn't quite appropriate for the weather, but it's the first thing I think of when I step outside and it's chilly.

I love when the weather turns. The crisp, cold of late fall, before the bitter, wet, slushy winter begins. I love what the weather means: cuddly sweaters, hearty meals, fuzzy socks. I automatically look to root vegetables to roast, cheap cuts of meat to stew, tweedy coats to wrap myself in. I love digging out my gloves, scarves, hats, and earmuffs. And while managing the accessories of the season can get a bit unwieldy, there's a comforting warmth in the soft woolens. Even though I live in a city, I can imagine the faint woodsmoke in the air.

Roasted Root Vegetables

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Peel and cut root vegetables into cubes. I used sweet potatoes, butternut squash and parsnips.
Chop some garlic.
Toss garlic and root vegetables with olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Roast in the oven for 15-20 minutes. Check for doneness with a fork.

Variations: You can use other vegetables. Broccoli, onions, and brussel sprouts roast well. I've also added additional spices like cumin or chili pepper.

Eat as is or add to a salad or omelet, top a pizza, or add to risotto.

Are you ready for some football?

2008-11-16T22:14:00.005-05:00

Growing up in Texas, you couldn't avoid football. As a student active in the acedemic and extra-curricular programs, supporting the football program started early. Football was also the means to a lot of fundraising. It wasn't a unilateral relationship.

However, in high school, I was rather disdainful of the football program. It usurped a lot of resources. It was the machine that overshadowed other achievements. It glorified violence and conquest. I even factored in the lack of a football program as part of my choices.

Once in college, I found myself missing the game. It wasn't the sport itself I disliked. I had a problem with how the systems within which football programs existed valued them. Also, in moving to a bigger pond, I found comfort and identity in aligning with the professional teams of my childhood. I was the girl from Texas. The Dallas Cowboys fan. Living in Washington Redskins country, the rivals, only solidified my alliance.

Now my love of football is even richer with the advent of high definition. Plus Miles Austin's ass is a total thing of beauty.

Inaugural Post

2008-11-16T20:10:00.003-05:00

I find myself unsure of what to say in my inaugural post. I wonder if there are speech writers you can hire to compose inaugural posts, like there are speech writers you can hire to craft inaugural addresses. I guess though that would be antithetical to the purpose of starting a blog -- a blog being a space for my own voice.

Speaking of inaugurations, DC is abuzz with inaugural preparations. I don't remember a city being so excited. Then again, maybe its easier to recognize as the party coming in to town is in line with my own beliefs. I've been so disheartened by the past two presidential elections previous to this year.

I will admit that it surprised me to see people take to the streets at 11:00 on November 4. Nothing planned, nothing strategized, sheer spontaneity. I don't know that I've ever seen that kind of a reaction to an election. That said, I don't see myself participating in the whirly-gig of events come mid-January. I don't need to rent out my place for an absurd amount of money. I don't need to scramble about for tickets to the events. I've done to inauguration celebration. It's too cold to stand outside, plus I'm skeptical that tickets will be readily available. This city will be packed to the gills with folks wanting to participate in the celebration.

So back to this blog, I'll warn any readers now that I can't promise this will stick. I'm not really a "Dear Diary" kind of girl. But short of learning how to play an instrument to send out my voice into the universe, this is my blog -- a space for my own voice. A place for me to be heard, regardless if no one is listening. We'll see how this goes.

Thanks for reading.