TEN

Viridian take all my money please.

Here we are at meal #4 or 5 out.

But we HAD to go. They were doing a collab with Merritt Ceramics.

Clearly I can't resist a good collab.

The collab dish was braised beef with the best fucking crispy eggplants I've ever put in my mouth - the only thing it was missing was a little bowl of rice.

And we got a handmade bowl to take home too *smiling face with hearts emoji.*

We got the honey walnut prawn toast for some carbs, which did not disappoint - fluffy on the inside, toasty on the outside.

 

emptied items:

n/a again *sobs*

11

My face melted off in a three hour meeting where no one listened to the technical team anyways... the way this giant soft serve slowly melted in my hands.

I saved it with a shot of espresso to make it through the rest of the meeting filled day.

twenty three

Life sustaining toast to get me through five hours of ceramics where I finally attempted to put handles on things.

avocado, salted egg yolk, flybyjing chili

sunny egg, everything bagel, pea shoots

twenty nine

A peanut butter + doenjang sourdough pancake with herbs, everything bagel seasoning, sesame oil, and chili.

A moderately productive studio day where I forgot how to center apparently and friction burned my pinky on the wheel as a result.

A drive by Almanac to play with a bebe.

A couple of impulse quesabirria tacos from El Fuego to pregame dinner.

A few vulnerable tears.

Not pictured dinner of more ube sourdough coconut curry with extra charred veg.

emptied items:

Dutch peanut butters

final hurrah on fortyfive

I ate my damaged and wounded little heart out at Jo's Modern Thai because restaurant freeze until August is in effect. It was easy because all I had in the morning were a few bites of the experimental malt bread* that one of my coworkers actually enjoyed - I should've just brought the whole loaf to work... and mini grilled cheeses with little pickles** using Joyce's leftover mini milk breads.

We were unclear about the actual presence of catfish but I will eat anything crunchy and umami when wrapped in crisp lettuce. 

Which was basically also what this fried sole dish was (with fish sauce caramel mmmmmmm).

And now I'm regretting not taking to-go the rest of this pork belly curry sauce with some rice as a sad girlie midnight snack.

countdown

seriously this tostada from Bolita Masa was sooooo good. so fresh, so spring, so balanced.

it inspired me to get more spring things, but the "esquites" from My Friend Fernando didn't hit the same way. it was a bit too salty - maybe it just needed a nice crispy tortilla?

i needed to fill up on some satisfying typical tacos - quesabirrias and chicken mole - from Dos Raices.

and that was first friday at Hammerling for Cinco de Mayo.

weaponized incompetence

This is a giant Arsicault croissant on my favorite coffee mug.

We are decompressing today because I am triggered.

my life in pastry review

If I found out eating any amount of gluten could kill me, I'd change into my pj's and spend the whole day making a tray of milk bread cinnamon rolls. And then eat them straight out of the oven.

Bake Sum - Oakland

holy hell this okonomiyaki pastry is what savory dreams are made of

musubi croissant is close second

my octopus friend

it's corn!

I truly understand the hype around corn. 

You perfect golden food.

This is one of many love letters to corn.

hello compilation

A summary of latin food from the first half of this year and stories from my hazy memory.

idk

I've never witnessed someone actually being kicked out of a restaurant, but if it were to happen anywhere - Boston feels wildly appropriate.

Let me set the scene.

I was pretending to be some mysterious woman in town, dining alone at the bar... in mom jeans, rec volleyball tee, and the cheap Target slides (that I picked up when I made a lunch run to Target to replace the shoes that literally broke on my walk to work). I was at Picco, which was down the street from my hotel that doesn't know if it's a hip hostel or upscale business stay, nibbling on a sausage, broccoli rabe, and olive pizza for one.

ramen weather

Anxiety levels are always high when I'm back at home. But not just in the typical ways you could guess for adult child returning back to den of someone else's rules and habits. I regress about 20 years in mentality, but whenever I open a cabinet or drawer to find it stuffed full of papers and tools and snacks and toys and just all around junk, I feel the daunting task of one day having to be responsible for cleaning it out. Then I slowly close the cabinet or the drawer and walk away and tuck myself into my temporary bed and try to sooth my brain into believing I can just pay someone to take care of the mess when the time comes.

I can't even bring myself to really stay in the kitchen. The fridge is full of 2, 3, 4, 5 year expired jars and blocks of things, and the pantry is full of 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 year expired bags and cartons of things. The reluctance to throw anything out. The inability to begin any form of organization. Is this mental illness?

Before you say anything, yes, this is where I get it from. But at least I have control over my own things. Did anyone ever question if I, too, have a mental illness though?

I made these fried enoki with togarashi last year and looking at this tangled mass of fungi without any indication of where it starts and where it ends is not unlike looking behind any door in my parents' house.

writing exercise #1

 

Fish and Bird Sousaku Izakaya

Is this enough cabbage for you?

This is an ebi katsu. Somewhere underneath this bird's nest of cabbage is a fried shrimp patty. I'm not complaining though. I could eat wedges of cabbage, raw. Plain, when it's crisp and cool in your mouth like eating water. I eat water dipped in a creamy dressing. Freshness cutting through the fatty mayo that coats my mouth. The shiso ume tartar sauce that oozes out from beneath the top bun demands this cabbage nest. I eat water to chase a fried bite or two as well. Oil and water are friends here. My cabbage nest becomes a bland palate cleanser for each crunchy bite of katsu. You might notice as I did that the menu distinctly left out cabbage as an ingredient on this sandwich. When I asked the waitress to confirm that I was not going to just get a fried chunk of meat between two buns (which would've been good but not great), she offered to leave the cabbage off. I interrupted her, No. I love cabbage. 

Matt

Nothing makes me happier than people who are determined to learn how to cook or bake. My interactions with Matthew these days are largely through following his journey through Paul Hollywood's bakebook on Instagram and talking about cakes. Matt identifies as Northern European (specifically Swedish, Norwegian, German, and Danish). The first time I met him wassssss probablyyyyyyyy... at Hopscotch*, where Christy and I set up a double date so I could finally meet the one that stuck. He was by far the favorite.

sausage

I'd been sitting on this meal for a couple months by now. As in I had my selected sausages from Taylor's Sausage in Swan's Market and my potato buns in the freezer waiting for a rainy day. Or rainy... week. My lab weeks basically turn me into a degenerate, scavenging my freezer, dry goods (read: bags of rice), and scare snack pile for dinner because I'm often too tired and lazy to go grocery shopping let alone actually cook for myself. Also coming off of two straight weekends of trash eating (i.e. pizzas, garlic fries, so many wings, many many beers).

Today I finally blessed my insides with something green. In the form of a pile of scallions and cilantro leaves... lol. Didn't want to shock it too much, you know.

Featuring the boudin blanc.

[homemade] Toasted potato bun with the thinnest spread of horseradish on the inside of one side. If I had mayo, that would've gone on as well.

[homemade] Asian pickled carrots.

Kimchi from KP.

Scallions + cilantro + sesame.

Plus extra on the side.

send noods

I really don't know what to say. This slow roasted lamb sammich from SOMA Eats was fucking incredible. With date almond relish and arugula and a pile of roasted lamb shoulder on ciabatta. Making going back to work...watching Youtube videos while lamb juices drop down my hands and then I have to awkwardly pinch my mask back onto my face to walk over to the sink to wash up... totally worth it.

all ears

I had a craving for fuqi feipian (夫妻肺片), which also reminded me of the fact that I haven't had a spread of Sichuan food in ages. Some menu browsing and musing later, I accidentally ordered fish with chilies, spicy pig ear, and fuqi feipian from Spices 3, but I didn't regret it.

Eaten with lots of rice.

Eaten with salted egg yolk sticky rice.

musings but no conclusions from an internetless week

AT&T decided to crap out on us two Fridays ago. And it turns out I can survive without internet.

But I don't love it.

Thank goodness for my first full week back to work where I could surf as much web as possible before going home to watch my collection of random movies on the external hard drive I've had since early college.

eightyone

I went into Miss Ollie's after an invigorating town hall//protest* and asked the woman behind the counter for her recommendation. Fried chicken sammich with fried plantains in place of bread. Done. I don't even care that there's also veg and slaw and spicy avo cream. And a side of thicc yucca fries.

*I get it. I feel it. I'm inspired by it. But crowds still overwhelm me and after it's all done, then what? I've never really cared about making a difference before. I wasn't out to change the world or leave my mark, but in the past couple weeks, we've all been called upon to take action in whatever way we can. But what do you do when voting and reading and donating and talking just feel so... unsatisfying. It's hard to pull yourself out of a spiral of hopelessness, knowing that there's a lot to dismantle and rebuild and even when that's done, there will still be people on your opposing side.

eightytwo

I've been thinking a lot about Asian American identity and how it's shaped and defined by both my relationship with white Americans and black Americans. There's a lot to be angry about and a lot to be confused about and a lot to reckon with in general. I was [unintentionally?] raised in a cloud of shame. Trying to fit myself into a suit of White that was crafted by my minimally diverse hometown and the picture perfect lives I saw every time I stepped into my friends' homes. It was honestly why I taught myself how to cook in the first place. A story I've told over and over again - I rejected the Chinese food my parents set in front of me to make spaghetti and meatballs so I could eat "normal" like my purebred American neighbors.

But in the same way I used food as a tool to separate Chinese from American, I used food again to reclaim the part of me that makes me susceptible to casual racism. I don't think casual racism will ever go away, but maybe I could start by... hating myself less.

And honestly, is there a better picture of self love than Joyce and her glistening cherry butt?

Amongst the many reasons why I love food is that some fruits perfectly resemble bits of the human body.

One pound-ish of the four pounds-ish cherries I hauled home (with much restraint) went into this super simple cherry almond upsidedown cake from The Artful Baker. To say I was obsessed with the vibrant cobblestoned cherries would be an understatement. I almost didn't want to cut into it, if not for the tantalizing scent of extra almond extract I added into the cake batter.

eightythree

At the beginning of protest season, Bon Appetit reminded themselves (and I guess us) that food is political. I have been thinking about this a lot too.

Of course it's political. How can something that is integral to every human life not be political? But I'm noticing now that a lot of the food justice issues my specific industry has been championing is largely divorced from race. But should it be?

Then BA imploded sometime after I made this Pocky sticks with Claire as my guide.

Pocky by the way, is not easy to make. It's the dipping part that is most annoying. I broke pretty much every other stick. And yes, that is why my horrifyingly uneven coatings of raspberry and dark chocolate are not pictured. Tbd if it's worth the labor over picking up a box for... what, less than $2? 

fortyone breads

Apparently we are at the crazy divide. If you've made it this far without going crazy, you probably won't now. Not sure if I believe 40 days is long enough to really know or to ensure your mental state won't deteriorate...but I might be on the verge of needing a break from bread.

pc: Joyce

Gasp, I know.

I need a culinary vegetable.