A Passover Dare

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(Originally posted on April 20, 2019, in better times.)

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Previously on ethnojunkie.com, I did a springtime post that included a story about someone who dared me to come up with an ethnic fusion Passover menu. I wrote:

Well, far be it from me to dodge a culinary challenge! So although obviously inauthentic, but certainly fun and yummy, here’s to a Sazón Pesach!

Picante Gefilte Pescado
Masa Ball Posole
Brisket Mole
Poblano Potato Kugel
Maple Chipotle Carrot Tzimmes
Guacamole spiked with Horseradish
Charoset with Pepitas and Tamarindo

And, of course, the ever popular Manischewitz Sangria!

It was all in good fun, of course, but it got me thinking about actually creating a Jewish-Mexican fusion recipe. It isn’t strictly Kosher for Passover, but I thought the concept was worth a try. So here is my latest crack at cross cultural cooking: Masa Brei!

Now you might know that Matzo Brei (literally “fried matzo”) is a truly tasty dish consisting of matzos broken into pieces that are soaked briefly in warm milk (some folks use water), drained, soaked in beaten eggs until soft, then fried in copious quantities of butter. Typically served with sour cream and applesauce, it’s heimische cooking, Jewish soul food, at its finest and it’s easy to do.

So I thought it might be worth a try to swap out the matzos for tostadas, the milk for horchata, the sour cream for crema, and the applesauce for homemade pineapple-jalapeño salsa. A sprinkle of tajín, a scatter of chopped cilantro – and it actually worked!

Happy Passover!
!חג פסח שמח
 
 

Brown Sugar Boba Ice Cream

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I still haven’t been back to Flushing because of the damndemic but I do manage to make it to Manhattan’s Chinatown for my idea of essential provisions. On a recent shopping spree, I picked up a package of frozen Brown Sugar Boba Ice Cream Bars.

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It transported me back to the day in May, 2019 when the Taiwanese chain, Tiger Sugar Bubble Tea, first opened its window at 40-12 Main Street in Flushing. We all stood patiently outside in the seemingly interminable, glacially slow moving line to get our first taste of this refreshing treat – refreshing indeed because IIRC temperatures were pushing 90°; on subsequent visits when it was pouring rain, the management handed out loaner umbrellas to keep us dry and happy as we waited.

The popular milk drink with its Instaworthy tiger stripes of dark brown sugar syrup was an instant success spawning multiple competitors like this excellent version from nearby Yi Fang Fruit Tea.

Its sweet syrup and melt-in-your-mouth boba were warm and flavorful and contrasted harmoniously with the ice cold milk. Before long, an enterprising challenger, With Sugar and Tea, opened up next door to Tiger Sugar featuring a drink with a snazzy cap…

…that tasted like White Rabbit taffy, one of the first Chinese candies I ever sampled decades ago.

Like Cream Mousse options elsewhere, this one sported Cream Cake topping, the thick foam enhancing its signature White Rabbitude. Alas, I understand that they’re no longer in business. Tiger Sugar went on to open multiple locations and the competition from legitimate contenders and a host of knock-offs hasn’t subsided.

But I digress. As usual.

Here are a couple of pix of the frozen confection incarnation of the now ubiquitous drink.



 
 
And a reminder: New York City boasts at least six Chinatowns and perhaps a few more depending upon your definition of what constitutes a Chinatown; just pick one and go! Now, more than ever, please SUPPORT CHINATOWN!
 
 

Shanghai You Garden

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Part of what I’m calling the “Golden Oldies” series: photos I had posted on Instagram in bygone days that surely belong here as well, from restaurants that are still doing business, still relevant, and still worth a trip.

From a visit in April 2017 to their Flushing venue at 135-33 40th Road.

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Soup Filled Bun. Yes, that’s a standard size drinking straw. Shanghai You Garden is famous for this Brobdingnagian novelty, but in addition to being a show stopper, this pillowy pouch is a taste topper too.


The inner workings.


Steamed Crab Meat Xiao Long Bao; these more modestly sized soup dumplings were tasty as well.


Spotlight on a soup spout.


Deep Fried Yellow Croaker with Dried Seaweed. If you’re a fan of fried fish like me, this will satisfy your cravings.


Ca-rrrunch!


Sautéed Tofu with Salted Preserved Egg Yolk and Shrimp. Instagram is fairly dripping with egg yolk porn, so its popularity seems to be universal. If you’re in that camp and you’ve never tasted salted preserved duck egg yolk in some form, you’re missing out on an intensely rich and flavorful experience that almost makes chicken egg yolks pale into insignificance. Once you go quack, you’ll never go back.
 
 
If you haven’t sampled Shanghainese food, Shanghai You Garden is the perfect place to get your feet wet; everything we ordered that day was a treat.
 
 
And a reminder: New York City boasts at least six Chinatowns and perhaps a few more depending upon your definition of what constitutes a Chinatown; just pick one and go! Now, more than ever, please SUPPORT CHINATOWN!
 
 
Shanghai You Garden has two locations: 135-33 40th Road in Flushing and 41-07 Bell Blvd in Bayside.
 
 

Masoor Malka Dal and Fried Basa

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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Another one of those improvised, sort-of-ethnic (in this case Indian), rainy day, I-don’t-feel-like-writing-so-I’ll-spend-the-day-cooking time sinks.

Sometimes folks inquire about what goes into these concoctions; I seldom measure anything except when I’m developing a recipe or baking but I did try to write down all the ingredients this time for anyone who might be curious.

Oversimplified and if memory serves, here’s how the masoor dal (red lentils) started out: I sautéed puréed onion, ginger, green chili and garlic in coconut oil and set that aside.

The next step involved toasting mustard seed, cumin seed, ground cumin, coriander, ground dried chilies, cinnamon, cardamom, garam masala, amchur (ground dried green mango) and turmeric. I tempered them in ghee – that’s a tadka – and when my kitchen smelled like an Indian restaurant, I combined it with the aromatics, cooked it a bit, added the dal, and stirred in chicken broth and tomato paste. They simmered together until the dal was tender; at that point I introduced a little yogurt to the mixture and it was ready.

Or something like that.

The fish component consisted of floured (that had been kicked up with some of those spices) pieces of basa, pan fried, and placed over a bed of the dal. Homemade parathas on the side.


Spotlight on the aforementioned parathas.

Of course, the problem with a day that I spend cooking because I don’t feel like writing is that I ultimately have to write about the day that I spent cooking.

Hoist by my own petard. 😑

 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

While in Kathmandu

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Part of what I’m calling the “Golden Oldies” series: photos I had posted on Instagram in bygone days that surely belong here as well, from restaurants that are still doing business, still relevant, and still worth a trip.

While in Ridgewood or while in Bushwick, consider a stop at While in Kathmandu, the Nepali restaurant virtually on the border of those two neighborhoods. When we visited in September 2017, they were the new kid on the block, but they’re still holding down the fort at 758 Seneca Ave, Queens and their menu has expanded significantly since the early days. Here’s what we ordered back then:

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Masala Wings, crispy fried chicken wings tossed in a homemade spice blend.


Breakfast! Fapar Ko Roti, a savory traditional buckwheat pancake, served with potato curry, soup, and a fried egg.


Chicken Choila, grilled chicken marinated in a blend of spices and served with chiura (beaten, flattened puffed rice) and aachar.


And, of course, no Nepali meal is complete without Jhol Momo. Jhol means soup; I was told that mo means steam (then momo would suggest steam-steam so let’s just make the culinary quantum leap to dumpling and not look back: I’ve definitely heard more plausible explanations), hence soup dumpling. But despite what you might be thinking, there is no soup to be found inside these dumplings: rather the hot dumplings swim in a cold tomato-y pool that lies somewhere along the sauce <-> soup continuum and the two complement each other deliciously. They’re available in five of your favorite momo flavors: chicken (shown here), pork, shrimp, plantain (kera ko momo), and vegetable, each with its own characteristic shape. I understand that you can get them fried as well, so I guess that would be fried-steam-steam; I’m not going to go there linguistically, but I’m definitely going to go there for another delicious meal!
 
 
While in Kathmandu is located at 758 Seneca Ave, Queens.
 
 

Sfingi

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It seems like every world cuisine has its own version of fried dough – Zeppole are Italy’s contender. You’ve probably seen them at street festivals or perhaps you were fortunate enough to have grown up watching your nonna make them as she confidentially disclosed her signature special ingredient, amore, which of course elevated hers above all others. They’re usually dusted with a sprinkle of powdered sugar but on occasion are dressed with a shot of pastry cream.

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These first cousins are sfingi (pronounced SFEEN-ji), Sicily’s answer to Neapolitan zeppole, although the two are not mutually exclusive. Sfingi are fried cream puffs filled with cannoli cream and can be found in Italian-American bakeries in celebration of Saint Joseph’s Day, March 19, honoring the husband of the Virgin Mary. (BTW, I’ve seen recipes that call for baking them, but….No.) This pair, chocolate on the left, bursting with ricotta-based, cinnamon-inflected, sweet cannoli cream shot through with mini chocolate bits, came from Court Pastry Shop, 298 Court St in Brooklyn.

The inside scoop:

Crunchy crispitude.


Puffy and floofy.
 
 

Irish Soda Bread

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I checked into Wikipedia before I started writing this to see what gaps in my knowledge of Irish cuisine might exist: the extensive article boasted almost 9,000 words and explored the cuisine beginning with its roots in the prehistoric Mesolithic Period (8000–4000 BC)! So for the sake of our mutual sanity, we’re going to stick with Irish food that I actually know and love.

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Some dishes are quintessentially Irish like colcannon (potatoes and cabbage), bacon and cabbage (which begat corned beef and cabbage), Irish stew (traditionally mutton and potatoes), boxty (a potato pancake), coddle (sausage, bacon, and potatoes), black pudding and white pudding (sausages), shepherd’s pie, and more.

But in honor of St. Patrick’s Day on March 17, here is a favorite that does not include meat, potatoes or cabbage: Irish soda bread. Baking soda activated by buttermilk takes the place of yeast as a leavening agent in this delicacy; that accounts for its delicate, crumbly texture and puts it somewhere along the bread <-> cake continuum.


This sweet raisin-studded beauty came from Court Pastry Shop, 298 Court St in Brooklyn, and it was truly outstanding. It’s served here with Irish cheddar cheese, radicchio marmalade (a change up from the traditional coarse cut orange) and whipped butter.

(I know. Two rave reviews in less than a week. What’s gotten into me? But if you can get to Court Pastry, try it for yourself and let me know what you think.)
 
 

Pi Day – Petee’s Pie Company

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From a visit to the amazing Petee’s Pie Company in Manhattan back in April, 2018.

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Pi Day is upon us! The official day that celebrates the astonishing discovery in 1988 that the first three digits of the mathematical constant pi (π≅3.14) correspond to the calendar date using the month/day format (3/14).

Provided, that is, that you don’t use the MM-DD format with its leading zeros. Or that you’re literally anywhere in the world outside of the United States where, intuitively, DD-MM-YYYY puts the numbers in order of significance. Or that you’re not enamored of the eminently more logical and sortable YYYY-MM-DD format.

But I digress.

IMHO 🥧 > 🍰 and Petee’s Pie Company at 61 Delancey St in Manhattan and 505 Myrtle Ave in Brooklyn dishes up some of the best I’ve ever tasted, but making the decision about which of the delightful daily selections to choose is neither as easy as pie nor is it a piece of cake. Of course they have wonderful fruit pies, nut pies, and custard pies, but their chess pies are always first to grab my attention.

Chess pie occupies (ahem) the middle ground between cheesecake and custard pie. Devoid of cheese and generally with a little more body than custard pie (often due to the addition of cornmeal) they are incredibly rich and, unsurprisingly, hail from America’s South.

Folktales about the genesis of its name are plentiful. One has it that chess pie is so sweet, it needs no refrigeration and could therefore be kept in the kitchen pie chest → pie ches’ → chess pie. Another speculation involves a tangled explanation involving English curd pies (think lemon curd as opposed to cheese curd and therefore sans cheese) and an American corruption of the British pronunciation of “cheese pie” – a long way around if you ask me. I favor the simpler, homespun tale that goes, “That pie smells incredible! What kind is it?” to which the modest Southern baker’s humble response was, “It’s jes’ pie.”

This incredible black bottom Almond Chess Pie infused with amaretto, topped with toasted almonds, resting on a layer of chocolate ganache and served with housemade vanilla ice cream was the capper on a day so packed with pigging out that we wondered if we would have room, but it was so delicious that it wasn’t a stretch. (Not so my belly, however.)
 
 
Visit Petee’s Pie Company on the web to check out their complete menu.
 
 

Guacamolcajete (Not)

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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Since I mentioned using a molcajete in my last post, here’s a bit more information as promised. The molcajete is Mexico’s version of a mortar and pestle; both pieces, the porcine basin and the grinding tool (the tejolote) are crafted from volcanic rock. You apply the tejolote to the ingredients (spices or vegetables) with a pressing and twisting action which results in a texture that’s considerably different from what you’d get with a spice grinder or a food processor; that method in turn affects the flavor.


And you’ve no doubt witnessed it being pressed into service (no pun intended) when preparing and serving guacamole and the like in Mexican restaurants. I use mine primarily for its unique grinding capability and less frequently for presentation – after all, it’s not called a guacamolcajete – but sometimes this three-legged stone piggie likes to dress for the occasion.


“Ready for my closeup E.J.” (She’s something of a diva: she’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen – and she knows it.)
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Taco Tuesday (Not)

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👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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Do you get pandemically induced food cravings too or am I alone in this? For no apparent reason I was jonesing for fish tacos and it wasn’t even the officially sanctioned el martes. Besides, it gave me an excuse to break out the comal and make salsa cruda.

Here’s what I did to scratch the itch. There’s nothing auténtico about these, but they were a cinch to prepare. You can use any neutral white filet like tilapia or basa because there’s so much going on in this application that any richly flavorful fish would get lost in the sauce. Literally. I tend to think of tilapia 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.

Season (or even marinate) the fish, then bake, grill, or pan sear in a skillet (that’s what I did: easier cleanup), cut into chunks and carefully place them into the taco shell or tortilla of your choice, along with avocado, shredded lettuce (or not), shredded or crumbled cheese (or not), crema (or not), and let the salsa do the heavy flavor lifting.


The salsa cruda started by charring white onion, tomatillos, tomato, and jalapeño on a comal – shown here mid-blister. Previously, I had used it to quickly toast some dried ancho and chipotle chilies then let them soak until rehydrated. When all the chilies are ready, remove any excess seeds and lose the juice from the tomato (it’ll make more). I chopped it all by hand because a blender or food processor creates a thin salsa which is fine but I prefer some crunch. (A molcajete works well too – see my upcoming post about guacamole, another craving inspired by this dish.) I included chopped cilantro, garlic, lime juice, olive oil, salt, and a pinch of cumin and Mexican oregano.


The finished product.

Itch scratched. Except for the aforementioned guacamole. Stay tuned.
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️