[skip down to Lunch unless you want to get personal]
I never know what to do with this day. This day that we as a country have all agreed to share in appreciation of something I no longer have. A lot of the time it sort of just disappears behind distractions before I have a chance to fully acknowledge it, despite that I always feel heavier and heavier in the moments leading up to it. Today was not very different given the circumstances, and I think I'm thankful for that. Thankful for enough food projects as always this quarantine season to keep me from ruminating too hard. This is the theme for quarantine entirely - that as the entire world is burning around me, I am... okay?
We officially started in March the day after her birthday, and we're going to continue on through to her deathday on June 1 (and probably then some), yet somehow numbers of tears cried and percentage of time spent in self indulgent wallowing has gone down for me during this block of time compared to past years. This year I thought about what I would make her if I could share a meal with her. I thought about what critical comments she would have about my cooking style. It'd probably be too sweet, too salty, too dry, too oily. Or it'd be perfect - just the right amount of peppercorns and vinegar and garlic and chilies. The thing that makes me saddest is that I truly don't know. The love of my life is a fantasy in my head because I barely knew her. She was my caretaker first; I followed her everywhere like a imprinted duckling, but I never got a chance to know her as a three dimensional person. Yet I channel her every time I step into the kitchen, conjuring memories of meals that I honestly don't even know if we shared together. I ache a little when I clumsily slice through meat, envisioning her hands deftly breaking down a whole duck with a cleaver, and I yearn a lot when I breathe in Sichuan peppercorns and star anise sizzling in hot oil, the aroma of her childhood. I fill this barrenness inside me with millions of dumplings, pleated the way she taught me when I was a toddler. I pretend my senses are hers. I pretend she would smile like it's the first time seeing a picture of my pork belly for the umpteenth time. I pretend I still feed her like I did when I was two, piece by piece (this captured moment, still a favorite picture of mine).
This year I'm still heavy, shocked I can still miss her as desperately at 28 as I did at 9.
Sharing this coffee and croissant and everything else on this day and every day with you, Mom.
Lunch
pc: Joyce
Joyce brought over Cynthia's gochujang eggs but with her touch of added kimchi.
And my whey sourdough toast "buttered" with kewpie mayo.
And ~spa water~
pc: Joyce
Caught in the moment of trying to decide if I should eat a chunk of tomato that dropped on the ground........ don't judge me, there was enough sauce to cushion underneath it, okay?!?!
Dinner
Frank and I beta-tested our slightly misguided attempt at a virtual cooking competition. Complete with secret ingredients chosen by our housemates (cilantro, coconut), time limit (75min), judges (our respective housemates.... sorta), and agreed upon theme (ramen).
Okay, I will admit that I cheated a bit. I ended up prepping the salmon a day in advance. But I feel justified in doing so because that piece of raw fish was not going to last another day in the fridge. And because the method I wanted to try had an overnight step.... *grimacing emoji*
Anyways, let's get into it.
the noods
1c bread flour
1/4t salt
3/8c cabbage puree water*
-kneaded and wrapped a day in advance
-rolled, cut, and cooked in time frame
-dropped in boiling water 2 min and strained
*the last time I attempted this, it did not work. So this time, I blended the cabbage with the water, and it worked!
Excuse my shadow and less than desirable lighting in this photo that was taken hastily in the middle of a serious competition. Pre cook (above) and post cook (below) noods held their purple color pretty well.
But this was a ramen competition. So to achieve that bouncy, chewy ramen texture, I used that classic cheat trick of boiling pasta in alkaline water. And this is where
My fun purple noods turned into fun blue noods. Which admittedly could be off-putting for some, but ended up complementing my assortment of beige/brown toppings quite well.
the salmon
The impetus for ramen was this salmon chashu I had been conceptualizing for awhile. So honestly if Frank hadn't proposed ramen, I would've made this ramen anyways. You might recall the half a salmon I processed. One side of the tail was cured...and I halved, folded, and practiced some bondage ties on the other side.
Fried to achieve that sexy crispy salmon skin that honestly was kind of a waste and a shame...
... because then the braising liquid (1/2c soy sauce + 1/2c sake + 1/3c sugar + ginger slices + scallions) went in and softened it all back up.
My mermaid tail was then vacuum sealed with the reduced braising liquid overnight.
And sliced in the time frame.
Two things for next time: I would like to figure out how to make it less flakey and more like solid slices of salmon chashu, and I will reserve salmon skin for crispy skin chips.
the toppings
I just about buried my smurf noodles in toppings, but honestly, this is me being restrained in the end.
Some of these things were not entirely prepped in the time frame, but I say whatever is in my fridge is fair game.
salmon chashu
cilantro
hojicha syrup + soy sauce cured egg (found item in fridge)
seared tarragon-cured oyster mushrooms (found item in fridge)
boiled bok choy
crispy fennel (simply sliced and shallow fried to crisp)
chashu braised turnips (cooked in leftover braising liquid from salmon, a splash of shaoxin wine, and a couple spoonfuls of ramen broth)
the broth
[pictured in mason jar]
Coconut truly threw me for a loop, and I was not initially pleased with it. I was not expecting a 'secret ingredient' that I couldn't quickly spin into a topping, but when Frank told me it'd be coconut, I knew there was no where else it could easily go but in the broth. But like... salmon and coconut?
Don't worry, I made it work.
This is a kombu dashi at it's base. Simmered 13g kombu in 4c water until just before it boils. Removed the kombu so it doesn't get too bitter and slimy, and tossed in cilantro stems to simmer for longer. Once the stems started turning a dull green, I removed those and added in 3-4 soup spoonfuls of salmon stock from before, as well as a generous tablespoon of dark miso paste. Kept it simmering until it got to a point where the salt level was just about right, and I added in 4-5 soup spoonfuls of coconut milk. Finished with a bit of salt.
the saucy extras
cilantro oil - handful cilantro leaves, splash lemon juice, 2 pinches salt, reserved oil from crispy fennel, touch more olive oil
Joyce's chili oil (found item in fridge)
the ramen
I wouldn't turn down some crispy shallots on top and egg could be jammier, but all said and done, I was v v happy with this bowl of ramen. Coconut and all.
the competition
Doing a "quarantine" edition stay-at-home Iron Chef against Amelia, I knew one thing: I would lose. With that out of the way, this was a fun way to flex some much needed exercise of my cooking skills (skills? lol). With cilantro (picked by Amelia's roommate) and coconut (picked by my roommate), I definitely knew I wanted to cook Khao Soi – this salty, coconut-creamy, flavorful soup of noodles topped with fun picked vegetables and wonton crisps for texture. I can count the number of times I had this dish – Jamjuree restaurant in Capitol Hill in Seattle and Lotus of Siam in Las Vegas. Funny thing, I couldn't remember Khao Soi, the name of this dish for the life of me, so I ended up using Google Maps to find the Seattle restaurant, Jamjuree, whose name I also forgot, searched by location, finding the restaurant name, going onto their website, and scrolling through their menu. I should consider being a private investigator)
I used this recipe, and went to the local Asian grocery store, which I love for its cheap fresh herbs. First off, it took me forever to find these powders and pastes – I felt like such a bad Asian, walking up and down the aisle at least a dozen times. Couple firsts: never bought turmeric before (which look like crawly bugs, to be honest), or shrimp paste? Intriguing. Total for everything came out to be ~$40.
You do need a blender or food processor for the khao soi paste - but I love chopping things – makes me feel "legit". Seeing the finished product (the Thai chili, shallots, garlic, ginger, cilantro, lime, turmeric, coriander, curry powder and shrimp paste, no regrets) mixed with coconut milk is so satisfying, the smell of Khao Soi hits you. I threw an extra Thai chili in. No regrets.
Amelia and I agreed to put 75 minutes on the clock. Pretty sure I would have been under if I didn't end up drinking so much sake at the beginning ... during ... and end. I do feel bad because her dish was getting cold for the last 20 minutes when she was waiting for me, but I needed that time to PERFECT MY PLATING (obviously). We did our big reveal - and a la Iron Chef style, described our dishes. When Amelia said that she boiled her ramen noodles in alkaline water to give it a more chewy texture, I thought to myself, "Yup, I lost." - But I knew that going in! And I feel like the true winner, because I got to eat noods. 10/10 would do again, especially now that I have all this leftover shrimp paste and turmeric. Note: turmeric stains everything yellow. To future self: wash everything immediately.
-Frank
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