Obama, Healthcare, Food

Check out my latest on the Huffington Post.

Some good news: right after I posted it, Obama did speak up saying “It also means cutting down on all the junk food that is fueling an epidemic of obesity, putting far too many Americans, young and old, at greater risk of costly, chronic conditions. That's a lesson Michelle and I have tried to instill in our daughters with the White House vegetable garden that Michelle planted. And that's a lesson that we should work with local school districts to incorporate into their school lunch programs.”

Let's just watch and see if this is a whole lotta B.S. or what.
I'll be holding him to this quote.

Singaporean dessert

Before it's too late and I have forgotten everything, I must write about dessert.  Dessert in Singapore/Malaysia/Indonesia is not like anything I have ever had before.  Wheat flour makes few appearances, same with chocolate.  You would think then that there was nothing good left to eat for dessert, but this would not be true.

Picture this:

a bowl full of chopped gummy bears, sweet corn, and beans. Topped with Italian ices.

This is called ice kachang and it's the picture I led with when I began this series.  Here's another closeup so you can see the corn and stuff.  Maybe it was all the satay and beer I had before it (or the week-long food orgy leading up to this, my final night in Asia), but this wasn't my favorite thing I had.  My favorites were in Kuala Lumpur...

At a sweet little restaurant

 called Precious, in the Central market, we had chendal, sago melaka and bubor chacha.  The whole Malaysian gang I was with were very very excited to see these things on the menu and declared these renditions to be "very very very good."  I myself had nothing to compare them to.  They looked like nothing I had ever seen and I thought they were OUTSTANDING.  

The one at the top of the pic is, I believe, the sago melaka, a divine mound of glutinous rice balls submerged in a sweet coconut broth. Does this even do it justice? Chendal is stranger, also incredible--a mound of shaved ice, with that same coconut liquid, and some brown stuff--brown 

sugar? and then topped with these glutinous green stringy things.  how do I make this sound appetizing?  My food writing skills are failing me.  You'd have to eat it to understand.

Weird Stuff (Street Food)

In Bahasi Malay and Indonesian, warung means stall.  I am a sucker for a food stall, as we all know. Like my hero Calvin Trillin, I've got the gene that makes me love buying street food and eating while standing up.  In just 10 hours in Kuala Lumpur, I ate like a king.  Malaysia beckons me back....I had goreng pisang (battered and fried banana, right), and some thin crispy crepe with peanuts (see below).

 In Indonesia, I showed some uncharacteristic caution and resisted all food carts except the grilled corn being sold at the top of the mountain where we went to look at Mount Merapi (oh man what was that place called again...?).

In Singapore, the street food is housed inside, in hawker centres, where things are clean and tidy, and handily grouped all together. Calvin Trillin wrote famously about them in the New Yorker, and there's a guide to them you can pick up while in Singapore.  I trusted Claire and Huzir as my guides, and didn't go wrong. 

Highlights: 

Carrot Cake.  Which is not at all what it sounds like.  Glutinous chunks of what Claire reported to be "grated root vegetable," sauteed in garlicky soy sauce.  I couldn't stop eating it despite my overly full belly. 

Teo Chew (braised duck with rice noodles): Man alive. So flavorful.

Rojak: We had a version of this peanut-sauced fruit salad while in Jogja, but this one was stranger and more delicious.  I will list the ingredients but you'll think I am joking.  Sliced guava, cucumber chunks, mango(?), and a few other fruits and vegetables, with chunks of giant fried churro.  Doused in an incredible peanut sauce. Oddly, inexplicably divine.

Chwee Kueh (steamed rice cakes with minced something or other on top): There is no end to how many ways I can enjoy rice products, apparently.

Apologies to Huzir for not calling the Char Kway Teow a highlight.

Weird Stuff, part 3 (Rijsttafel)

Rijsttafel meaning "rice table" in Dutch, ends up meaning a kind of lunch smorgasbord.  Or that's what it meant for us, anyway, as we sweated it out in the courtyard of the Hotel Mertua, gorging ourselves on a series of small Javanese plates.

Sitting atop our beautiful Jogja batik table cloth, they included the local salad teran chan--fresh grated coconut, ginger, sliced long beans, bean sprouts, and something else or two; homemade tempeh, which we were having for the second time, and is on a level that industrial tempeh just can't touch; serunding--another grated coconut dish, this one spiced and toasted I think; various satays; fried rice, noodles, etc.  

It is worth mentioning the distinctive taste of Javanese food.  Before we left Singapore we were warned by one person that the food's no good, assured by another that it is good, but very simple. I agree with the second person, though truth be told we ate only at our lovely hotel, the Bale Raos royal restaurant at the Kraton, and here.  And it's true--no sauces, nothing fancy, just simple ingredients, most of which we saw growing at some point, whether it be in the rice paddy fields in the local villages or up in the terraced mountains near Mt. Merapi. 

weird stuff, part 2 (breakfast)

My first day in Singapore, not 2 hours off the plane, we headed to Chinatown for dimsum.  I earned my stripes sucking bbq sauce off of chicken feet. Slurping red bean steamed buns and shrimp dumplings, blinking off jetlag and enjoying my new discovery: non breakfast food for breakfast. 

For the next two days, I drooled over nasi lemak: coconut rice with chili paste, little dried crunchy fish and then a big fried fish on top. Also good for breakfast is nasi goreng, javanese fried rice. Between all the breakfast rice and, well, the lunch and dinner rice (not to mention dessert rice--more to come on that), I am now basically one giant rice ball.

First day home and I am back on Cheerios and milk. What's up with that?

Another Singapore specialty is kaya toast, a kind of coconut custard spread on big fluffy white crustless bread, and lightly toasted.  We had this only the once, but it was delicious, and compelling.

you eat weird stuff, part one

For centuries, travelers and "discoverers" have encountered new countries and new cultures and they have thought or said: "you eat weird stuff here!"  Some of those intrepid swashbucklers then add: "Can I taste?"  I am one of said intrepid discoverers, leading with her tongue.

I have just returned from nearly two weeks traveling Singapore, Malaysia (for 10 food-filled hours), and Indonesia.  Claire and Huzir took pains to introduce me to all of the important dishes, fruits, and tastes on offer.  As Huzir feared I would, I am now publicly declaring that I have met my match in those two. They love food journeys as much as I do.

I took pictures of nearly everything, and will chronicle it all here in such detail that your eyes will bleed. Or your stomach growl.  Whatevs.  I begin tonight, when I should be asleep already, with:

DRINK.

Upon arrival in Jogja (that's the island of Java, hey now), our houseboys greeted us with a welcome drink.  Last time I saw such a maneuver was on "Fantasy Island," and the gesture was lost on me.  Suddenly, on that hot Indonesian patio, I understood why we greet visitors with a taste of their new home. This drink sought to transform us from the inside out, sending streams of rose syrup, cinnamon, tamarind and lemon grass through our veins, synching our pulses with those of the Javanese.  This isn't it pictured here, but it's something similar.

In fact, at every turn, each time I reached for a Coca Light (see my recent HuffPo post on that ol' silly habit), Claire pushed me to try something new.

Including:

cincau: seaweed jelly cubes in syrup--was that coconut?

avocado "juice": basically an avocado smoothie. hello!

fresh squeezed sugar cane, with one of them mini limes

kickapoo joy juice: this is not a name I have made up. Seriously.

and the list goes on. 

In fact, I took a pic of a menu at a coffee shop (not what we think of when we say coffee shop. Something else) and it gives you a sense of all the crazy beverages they've got going on. 

Going Local/Going Abroad

Local:

The reason I love the restaurants I love (generally of the seasonal ingredient-driven sort) is not because the politics line up; not because they have a super relaxed yet lovely vibe; not because I imagine the people in the kitchen have more fun, learning how to make new things all the time, even though all of that is true.  It's that I love not knowing what I'll find there next--the menu changes with each day or week or season, and I am surprised every time.

I haven't yet written about Back Forty, Peter Hoffman's downscale East Village joint, a place that despite not always getting it right, has made it onto my short list of loves.  The first time I went was last summer, on one of those sunny and amazing days--the pork jowl nuggets were not my thing; the lobster roll couldn't hold a candle to all the classic lobster roll joints we have going these days.  But other things were excellent, and the beers were carefully chosen and crisp and cool.  And the waitstaff was friendly and the vibe was excellent.  So I have returned and each time I get better at ordering and each time I have things I adore.

Last night the toasted fregola salad was off the hook and there were ramps everywhere--which I am gathering must have been brought up from the Carolinas.  Chicken liver mousse with pork cracklins, amazing rosemary french fries.

Abroad:

I am off to Asia in a few weeks and I needed some good travel guides.  I am terrible at pre-trip reading.  In fact, I have never visited a travel bookstore before.  I was running errands in Chelsea this past sunny Saturday and the map on my iphone led me to Idlewild Bookstore on 19th street. The store is a quiet 2nd floor haven, replete with cute bookish sales guys, Tom Waits tunes and a lovingly curated selection.  I love the way it's organized--it reflects an interdisciplinary style that I've long favored as a tutor.  Categorized by country/region, there are, alongside the traditional travel guides, related fiction and non-fiction titles mixed in.  Also, over by the travel writing, cookbooks.  Also, they sell globes.  I got 2 slim Singapore guides and a Nell Freudenberger short story collection set in Southeast Asia.  24 hours of plane ride to kill, and now, 3 books to read!

Carolina Gold

2 months ago I went to visit my peeps in Columbia, South Carolina, and took a moment to visit Anson Mills (see my photo gallery on the SFUSA blog). Glenn Roberts--heritage grain genius, artisanal food entrepeneur, and all around great guy--handed us bags of rice on our way out, bags that have been idling in my freezer until last week's potluck lunch at the office.

I made two iterations; the first was the filling in Mark Bittman's stuffed peppers (or as I like to call them, "Amy's stuffed peppers"). The second, I made up, and darned if it wasn't good. Mostly, I think, because it showcased the rice-beautiful Carolina Gold.

1 leek, washed, trimmed, and sliced into thin half moons
1 cup Anson Mills Carolina Gold rice
2 cups water
3 tbsp Kerrygold butter
fresh basil leaves, chiffonaded (ribbons)
the zest and juice of one lemon
salt, pepper


In a big saucepan, saute the leeks in 2 tbsp of the butter until soft and transluscent, salting a bit as you go
add the rice, stirring to coat
add the two cups of water, bring to a boil, then cover and reduce heat to a simmer
cook 15 minutes or so until rice is moist and fluffy
take of heat and toss with remaining butter, lemon zest and juice, basil ribbons
more salt and pepper to taste
if you don't like it, add more butter!

The return of the White House Garden

CHECK THIS OUT.

2 Breads whose Roots are Twin*

Many a time I've wondered what the scoop is with Sullivan Street Bakery. One day I woke up and it looked the same in every way, down to the crumble of each and every bread, except it was called "Grandaisy." But they were still selling bread in Sullivan Street Bakery bags at Murray's, so it clearly wasn't a rebranding.

I heard rumors of a divorce.

Then, because I am slow like that, I finally just read an article from October's Atlantic Monthly, written by Corby Kummer, called "Half a Loaf," in which he explores what happened in this situation--as well as the larger issues including who has the rights to a recipe, who can claim a signature delicious loaf (especially if it is merely a subtle riff on a European classic).

A great read.

(Plus, Corby's got a whole new food section on Atlantic Monthly's website and it rocks).

* An oblique reference to an Alice Walker poem I love..."I am the woman offering two flowers whose roots are twin. Justice and Hope/ Hope and Justice/ Let us begin."

HuffPo

Check me out in my new gig as a contributor to the Huffington Post blog.

Sustainable Farmers=Rockstars

It's a sign that at least one thing is going right in our crazy world when small organic farmers get treated like rockstars. There's Rosie Perez....and Mena Suvari....and that giant gorgeous Inuit supermodel from the 90s...and a bunch of girls in stilettos drinking cocktails and not eating the marvelously artistic passed hors d'oevres...and my high school buddy Anna's rough-hewn and lovely portraits of sustainable farmers in the Pacific Northwest, shirtless in the fields, the center of all the fuss.

Last Thursday I attended the launch of the USA Network's Character Project, a photo exhibit, and a forthcoming book, as far as I can gather. And there were Anna's pics, alongside the works of luminaries such as Sylvia Plachy and Eric Ogden! The exhibit has left NYC but you can check it out in other locations.

And to gaze at more of Anna Mia Davidson's farmer portraits, including one of her husband John, click here.

Put your Insidious Big Ag Ads Here!

Thanks to my buddy Jack for this one. We both agreed that these series of high fructose corn syrup ads that have hit the airwaves and the magazine pages are kind of douche-y (as in Massengill ads from the 80s, though also kind of douche(bag)-y as well).

Missing

Sometimes I miss things so intensely, it's hard. It's such a basic human emotion, I realize, but it can be futile, especially if the person or place you're missing ain't ever coming back.

I miss Brooklyn.

But I work there! But I hang out there! But it still EXISTS! Can I still miss it? Well, I do.

Last night after work I headed deeper into Brooklyn with one of my favorite food buddies to Buttermilk Channel for a cocktail and some bacon nuts and other treats; then walked up to Black Mountain (a little gem) and sat by the fire eating truffle-y, mushroom-y mac and cheese and sipping red wine.

It was awesome, because how often do you get to scratch the missing itch like that?

Go Meat- and Dairyless One Day a Week

From an article in the latest Mother Jones:

"According to a 2008 report from Carnegie Mellon University, going meat- and dairyless one day a week is more environmentally beneficial than eating locally every single day."

Eating From my Larder

As posted on CivilEats.com today (and as pinged by Mark Bittman on his blog today--sweet!):

The fact that the cabinet door to my “pantry” is suddenly busted has made ignoring its contents difficult. For example: two cans of tuna packed in oil, and I cannot remember the last time I ate canned tuna. My concerns about seafood (un)sustainability have made me shy away from eating fish lately. When did I even buy those cans, and why?

Then there’s that half bag of quinoa. Um, how long until quinoa goes bad? Half bags, too, of pearl barley, lovely little green lentils, couscous, risotto….the list goes on.

Also, there’s the matter of my freezer, which given other freezers I’ve seen (like the one at my Mom’s house—sorry, Mom) isn’t so bad. But it’s got two big bags of corn kernels I froze in late August, and if I don’t eat them soon, they’ll be losing a competition against fresh summer corn at the market. Also, a plastic liter seltzer bottle full of whey, and about a dozen bagel halves from my nephew’s bris (n.b. he was born September 20th).

Eating what you have on hand has been a much-discussed topic these days for the food obsessed. For example, I’ve just discovered that our editor here at Civil Eats is also participating, via the Washington Post's blog "A Mighty Appetite," in what Kim O’Donnel is calling "Eating Down the Fridge," a title I like.

I discovered the idea on the New York Times Diner’s Journal blog, which alerted me to a contest brewing on eGullet: “National Eat the Stuff in our Freezers and Pantry Week.” I don’t have the stocks to participate in this contest full on (I love eGullet because it’s hard core—these people have boxes of Parmalat, powdered milk even, for crying out loud); but I decided to read about the contest and shadow, as best as I could.

First, there are rules, as explained by the staff at eGullet:

1 - No stockpiling.

2 - No endangering your children.

3 - No making yourself miserable.

4 - If you decide to participate in this experiment, you’re making a commitment to chronicle a week’s worth of meals starting on whatever day you normally shop.

5 - Have fun, and keep everyone posted on your progress!

SobaAddict70 shares a list of everything he had, and whoah—this dude must live in the suburbs, because where would I put all that? Steven Shaw (aka “Fat Guy”) discusses the merits of freezing milk and I feel like I am back in the scary wilds of my mom’s freezer; I may have a dozen bagels from 2008, but darnit, I have my limits.

OK, so first things first, I decide to use the quinoa. I cook up a half box and it makes an insanely large bowl of quinoa, more than I can imagine eating this year, let alone this week. I douse it with sesame oil from the pantry, and toss in some peanuts from my freezer (I keep a lot of nuts in the freezer: pecans, pignoli, hazelnuts, walnuts). It was pretty dull. The prospect of eating 85 servings of this makes me very sad indeed. So I go out and buy out-of-season-but-organic scallions and red bell pepper, and a small bottle of sake in which to sautee some onions from my fridge drawer. The first assignment and I have already broken the rules! In fact, these past few days, I keep learning this sad lesson again and again. I try to use the things in my larder, and to make anything halfway decent, I need to buy more things. And then to use those things, I need to buy even more things. It’s a vicious (if often delicious) cycle.

I take comfort in the loosey goosey goings-on over at eGullet. Plus, the photos are riveting. I cannot believe all the cool (and, well, strange) things people have kicking around. It kind of makes me want to live with some of them, or at least you know, hang out together at mealtime. One person harvested dandelion greens from their backyard in Texas! Also worth mentioning there seems to be a deep love of Costco over there on the boards.

OK, next dish. With the corn, a peak-of-summer corn chowder with a fridge drawer potato, some fridge drawer onions and celery, and the remainder of the red pepper. Then I buy some fresh basil—doh! I am really very bad at this indeed. (But, but, but, remember how Mark Bittman said dried basil is bad? I had agreed with him, but now I wish I had some so I didn’t have to transgress like this….)

But all is not lost; tonight I will defrost the pork chops from Bradley Farm, and with the rest of the frozen corn, a little of the precious remaining milk I’ve got, as well as the half bag of Wild Hive Farm stone ground cornmeal from my freezer (ohhh yeah, cornmeal and flour go in the freezer at my house) I will make a corn pudding.

I may not have much of a larder, and I may be buying a lot of supplements, but I am a) having a blast following the contest and b) doing a fine job of clearing out my stores, and c) spending less money as I do it.

This week I have made egg salad (very tasty on ancient toasted bagel); I have used those frozen overripe bananas to make a banana bread for my new parent friends; I have eaten down my fridge. I have looked it in the eye and shown it who’s boss.

Not about food but who doesn't love puppies?

I heard that sites that have porn or post wacky pics of kittens and puppies get a lot of hits, so, uh, here goes. I don't know what you do at your job but at my job we play with puppies.

Avant Garde Restaurant Hits the Big Time

It is with pride that I direct you to this piece in Time Out New York!

This weekend's event is sold out but I hope you'll come chew the scenery with the AVGR in April...?

PS also check out TONY's David Cote's blog post with our Butternut Squash soup recipe.

Peanut, peanut butter

I am a good American, inasmuch as I really like peanut butter and I eat it an awful lot. As you can imagine, for this and other reasons, I have been following the peanut recall with more than idle curiosity.

Please see the Slow Food USA blog today for my woefully belated Peanut Butter Recall Redux.

Also, please see my old post, from the early days (4 years ago!), on Peanut Butter Bumpers. n.b. this week Whole Foods was having a sale, and now the top of my fridge looks like a PBB convention.

Death of a Salesman

A few weeks ago, the peeler guy from the Union Square Greenmarket died. Yes, I bought peelers from him, and yes, they work really really well.

I already miss his shpiel.

I spent my childhood watching my father's alter ego--antique book salesman--and admiring its unlikely bravado. My weekday policy/finance Dad wore a suit, carried a briefcase, and went to an office. I don't know exactly what his work persona was like--though a memorial service last year gave me the sense that he was more outgoing and more gregarious than I ever imagined--but his salesman persona always seemed like a funny role he was playing.

"Antiquarian bookseller" sounds genteel, I realize, but ofttimes this involved selling at streetfairs (back when NYC streetfairs were eclectic and interesting, not just sweatsocks and funnel cakes). On certain occasions, he was a carnival barker, calling passerbys to his booth, promising 50% off. I was usually plopped on a lawn chair at the front of the booth with my mother, making sure nobody stole anything, making transactions, and watching my father doing what he loved.

Somehow I think Joe Ades the vegetable peeler seller reminded me of that unabashed salesman spirit I used to see in my Dad...