Category Archives: Home Cookin’

Chinese New Year 4720 (2022)

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(Click on any image to view it in high resolution.)The two-week long Chinese celebration of the Lunar New Year begins today – it’s 4720, the Year of the Tiger. The Tiger is known for his strength, bravery, and particularly his ability to purge evil – and if ever we needed that specific set of superpowers, it’s now.

But even COVID can’t stop us from embracing all of the traditions that make this holiday so extraordinary. One that I particularly enjoy is the way in which wordplay and homophones factor into the selection of traditional foods specially prepared to mark the occasion. For example, at festive gatherings a whole fish will be served, because the word for fish (yu) is a homophone for surpluses.

So since I could definitely use some surpluses right now, I’ve made a whole steamed fish stuffed with ginger and scallions and bedecked with even more julienned fresh ginger, scallions, chives, and cilantro for the centerpiece. Accompanying the star of the show were snow peas and black mushrooms in black bean sauce, and char siu fried rice (homemade char siu, to be sure).

Now, if you read me, you know that of course there’s a backstory that involves the preparation of this feast, and I’m going to save the near miss details for a future post. But there is a Lunar New Year story I would like to share with you now, one I wrote a few zodiac signs ago, a mystery involving a particular nian gao (the traditional sweet rice cake and a homophone for high year) that resonates to this day. It’s all in my very short story, “The Case of the Uncrackable Case!”

新年快乐! Xīnnián kuàilè!
恭喜发财! Gong hei fat choy!
 
 

Canned Fish Don’t Get No Respect!

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They may well be the Rodney Dangerfield of lunch foods. I’m not talking about tuna, salmon, sardines and the like; obviously those have earned a seat at everybody’s table. I’m referring to the enormous variety of canned piscine treats hiding in plain sight in international markets.

But are you supposed to just open the can, dump the contents onto a plate and consume them undressed? (I mean the fish, not you.) You wouldn’t open a can of tuna and just eat it straight and unadorned, right? We make tuna or salmon or sardine salad which can optionally graduate to sandwich status, or we combine them with noodles in a hot or cold configuration or perhaps work them into a casserole. The list goes on; entire books have been written on the subject. We probably all have favorite treatments, perhaps even family recipes passed from generation to generation; my grandmother used to make something she called Salmon Corn Loaf – not bad IIRC.

So why not spend a minute to create something memorable? And that’s part of the fun – figuring out what to do with the stuff.


Today’s case in point – Chinese canned roasted eel.

Here’s what I came up with: I figured that eel would go well with the sticky rice I had on hand, prettified with a sprinkle of furikake. The liquid in which it was packed was surprisingly flavorful, clearly intended to be used as a dressing, not just as a medium for packing like the oil used in standard issue sardines. It was spicy and a little sweet and had a couple of tiny rings of red pepper floating in it so I added more red pepper rings plus green scallion rings. The fact that the label depicted leafy greens suggested that I lay down some lettuce, top it with the eel, and pour the kicked up sauce over. That’s the photo you see here. But the eel was still a bit dry, so I broke it up, shredded the lettuce and microwaved it along with the rice for a few seconds, just to warm it up and hopefully soften it a bit. Stirred it all together and it was delicious. But it was so not pretty; that’s why there’s no photo of the final dish!

A different kettle – er, can – of fish awaits on the shelf. More to come….
 
 

Tilapia Masala Curry and Paneer

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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Part Three of Tilapia, Three Ways.

As I write this, I’m realizing that this post and the two before it comprise an object lesson in dealing with diminished resources: a scarcity of supermarket selections, a food budget that is less lavish than it once was, and an energy level that seems to have gone missing in the light of living in 1984 in 2022.

So today’s tilapia challenge is a cheat as well.

I concocted a sauce that was akin to an Indian masala curry using canned tomatoes, tomato paste, onions, fresh chilies, garlic, ginger, yogurt, cream, and cilantro. The spices were ground, toasted cumin and coriander seeds, ground tellicherry peppercorns, turmeric, garam masala, cardamom, and mace plus a couple of Indian blends I had on the shelf.

The basmati rice was spiked with chopped onion sautéed in ghee along with a cinnamon stick, a clove, and some cumin seed and mustard seed. Raita and paratha on the side.


Paneer was an unplanned afterthought, but there it was in the cheese section of the supermarket and I’m not one to look a gift course in the mouth.

I pan-seared the fish and the paneer (paneer doesn’t melt) separately to get some serious browning and let them simmer in the sauce respectively.
 
 
So there you have it: three posts involving a three-pillared object lesson – and perhaps three wishes to grapple with it.
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Tilapia, Indonesian Style and Pisang Goreng

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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Part Two of Tilapia, Three Ways.

Full disclosure: this is Indonesian-ish, because it’s a complete and utter cheat which explains why it doesn’t even have a proper name. One of the key ingredients in the sauce is nasi goreng paste from a jar (heavens!), the intended use of which is to facilitate a quick ‘n’ easy version of Indonesian fried rice. Its ingredients are onions, dried chilies, shallots, garlic, salt, palm oil, sugar, tomato paste, vinegar, black pepper and turmeric and it’s actually a pretty good product; I added a touch of kecap manis (thick sweet soy sauce) for sweetness and depth and some chopped peanuts for a little crunch. Onions and bok choy unused in yesterday’s Tilapia in Black Bean Sauce with Ground Pork post were the veggies of record; that little blossom perched atop the rice is a slice from the stem end of the bok choy.


As long as I was doing “Indonesian style” cooking, I decided to make pisang goreng (deep fried bananas) for a treat. (Yes, more comfort food.) The batter called for rice flour (although other types are widely used too), baking powder (some versions call for baking soda as well), vanilla sugar (my own touch), and salt, and I sprinkled the finished product with flaked coconut and a spicy coconut bumbu condiment I had in the freezer.


The inner workings; crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside.
 
 
More tilapia elevation to come….
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Tilapia in Black Bean Sauce with Ground Pork

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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So I made a quick trip to the supermarket to grab whatever might be available and reasonably priced. (Sounds familiar these days, doesn’t it?) A large package of tilapia, far too much for a single meal but so persuasively priced, presented itself as a challenge.

I’ve said it before: tilapia is a widely available, bland tasting, poor excuse for fish. But I tend to think of it and other entry-level fish as an artist’s canvas: it’s essentially an uninteresting blank medium waiting to be turned into a masterpiece. Or in this case, dinner. So that makes it a good excuse for playing around with internationally influenced inventions where any richly flavorful fish would get lost in the sauce. Literally.

I decided to focus on Chinese, Indonesian, and Indian cuisines based primarily on whatever else looked fresh in the market and whatever seasonings and ingredients I had on hand. (Spices don’t keep forever and it’s always a good idea to try to use up what you have before it’s too late.)

So this is Part One of Tilapia, Three Ways.

First up, Chinese: Tilapia in Black Bean Sauce with Ground Pork. The vegetable components were onions and bok choy plus the usual ginger, garlic, scallion and chilies. The personality came from browning the ground pork followed by three different black bean sauces that had been keeping company in the fridge (still haven’t used them all up) plus chili sauce, oyster sauce, soy sauce, chicken broth, and a pinch of sugar, all stir-fried together and poured over the sautéed tilapia fillets.

Since I’d left the fillets in one piece, I should have plated it better if I had been attending to the presentation instead of my appetite. Still, it was a decidedly tasty dish – no complaints.
 
 
More tilapia elevation to come….
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Kung Pao in the Time of COVID

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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As a hedge against renewed COVID angst and the current wave of Kafkaesque national politics, I’m cleaving to this course again for a little while, just until the omicron spike subsides. (Some say the graph is shaped like an ice pick but I can’t help seeing it as an inverted hypodermic needle.)

Because I ran out of Ben & Jerry’s but I did have chicken and crunchy peanuts on hand, Kung Pao will have to do for today’s comfort food.

In addition to those two ingredients, I added red bell peppers and scallions along with dried chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, garlic, ginger, and yibin yacai (preserved mustard greens) for the aromatic flavor burst component, and sugar, soy sauce, Shaoxing wine, Zhenjiang vinegar, and Guizhou fermented black bean chili sauce to keep it together.

And apropos of keeping it together, I can’t help but wonder if it’s possible that between the red bell peppers and the green scallions, I was subconsciously trying to keep Christmas around a little longer.
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Pongal

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Pongal, the holiday, is a four day long harvest festival occurring around mid-January (on the 14th this year) that is observed primarily in the South Indian state of Tamil Nadu but like most spiritual anniversaries can’t really be confined to a specific geographical area, diasporas being what they are. One of the most important holidays celebrated by the Tamil community, it is characterized by social gatherings, time-honored rituals, prayers for health, happiness, and prosperity, and, of course, traditional foods. Bidding farewell to the winter solstice and marking the beginning of the sun god’s annual ascent in the zodiac, each day of the holiday features its own set of conventions. It is the second and principal day on which pongal, the dish, is prepared.

The word pongal means to boil or spill over and the seasonal milk plus newly harvested rice preparation does indeed overflow as it cooks, symbolizing the abundant harvest for which participants exuberantly give thanks. The dish manifests in two varieties: sweet (chakkara or sakkarai pongal) which calls for jaggery (unrefined cane sugar) along with raisins, cashews, and spices like cardamom, and savory (ven or khara pongal) which emphasizes an array of more potent spices and herbs.

A multitude of recipes is extant, of course, some saturated with copious ghee (usually the savory variants), some shot through with coconut (usually the sweet), but most of the recipes I’ve found call for the addition of moong dal (mung bean or green gram) to keep company with the rice, similar to North Indian dal khichdi. For today’s culinary adventure, I decided to prepare the savory version.

After toasting the dal, I cooked it together with rice in equal parts (again, recipes vary, often with more rice than dal) using more water than customary to achieve the proper cohesive consistency; they’re prepared sans seasoning – all of the distinctive ingredients are folded in afterwards.

One of the essentials of many world cuisines involves dry toasting spices to bring out their essence. In addition to employing that technique, Indian cuisine takes it one step further by making a tadka, tempering whole herbs and spices in oil to bloom their flavors beyond dry roasting and to flavor the oil as well; it’s the foundation of many Indian dishes and one I frequently use. In this case, ghee provided the lipid component (make sure it’s high quality and fresh) and my “distinctive ingredients” were cashew nuts, cumin seeds, cracked Tellicherry peppercorns for their citrusy notes, curry leaves, grated fresh ginger, green chilies, a pinch of hing (aka asafoetida) and turmeric.

Simply fold the tadka into the prepared rice and dal mixture, cook for another minute or two, et voilà. The texture of the dish should be a little like risotto, think porridge rather than discrete grains like biryani – after all, it’s comfort food; some recipes even call for mashing the rice a bit. It’s often served with coconut chutney (see photo) and sambar.

I confess to consuming it with greedy gusto since this particular combination of cashews, herbs and spices really resonates for me; of course, now I’m craving the sweet version too. Next time!
 
 
Happy Pongal!
 
 

Egg Drop Soup

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And speaking of holiday leftovers….

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I usually use chicken broth when I make egg drop soup.

But the idea here was to use up all the leftover turkey with deference to glorified frugality beyond the ritual turkey salad sandwiches, turkey hash, turkey mole, turkey tetrazzini, turkey burritos, turkey pot pie (see last post) and an occasional treat for the cats, so the broth that went into this dish was made from leftover roasted turkey bones.

If only I had a leftover turkey egg to use in this…. 🙃
 
 

Turkey Pot Pie

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I’ve written about the procession of leftover Thanksgiving turkey dishes that parade through my kitchen annually, but I’ve never posted any proof. So if you don’t mind a few more Home Cookin’ pix, here, in reverse order of presentation, are some photos of this year’s Turkey Pot Pie. The lacy crispy bits are fried Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, aka frico.

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Plated: prettified with parmesan and peppered with parsley.


Preparatory probe plowing into pot pie prior to plating.


Preliminary portrait. Picture perfect – practically. 🤷
 
 
Clearly, I have too much time on my hands. 😉
 
 

Alternate Side of the Sweet

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If you read me regularly, you know that I didn’t orchestrate an over-the-top Thanksgiving feast this year; our annual gathering was an out-of-state potluck with each family member contributing some favorite side dishes. (I brought these two.)

But I missed my Dandy Brandied Candied Yams. (Actually, they’re sweet potatoes, but that’s a story for another day.) On a subsequent shopping trip, I tossed one in the basket, but upon contemplating the solitary and rather forlorn looking sweet potato back in my kitchen, I knew that I wasn’t going to go through the process of creating a mini version of the elaborate side dish for just myself. I also knew that I wasn’t really up for a plain roasted sweet potato, no matter how much butter I doused it with. I needed to come up with an alternate side for that sweet potato.

So I decided to experiment. (Mwah-ha-ha!) I performed a cursory inventory of the fridge and the pantry and hatched a scheme: Roast the root, mash the flesh and instead of brown sugar for sweetness and butter for creamy unctuousness (two of the many DBCY ingredients), I’d use eggnog.

Now wait – before you go “Ewww!” stay with me; this is how recipes are born. Upon testing, the theory proved reasonably solid although it needed some intensification. For texture, I added some butter-toasted pecan pieces and crystallized ginger (both of which I had on hand). But it still needed a bit more sweetness (I was surprised, too) plus a jolt of spice so I drizzled a thread of maple syrup over the nogified veggie mash and sprinkled a bit of cinnamon and freshly grated nutmeg on top.

Trust me: if it hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t have taken the time to photograph it and write it up for future fine tuning. Reckless abandon to the rescue again!