talking to myself

Fix You (by ColdPlay)

When you try your best but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

The song has returned to me ever since I heard it on my pandora station the other day.

I remember I used to play this song alot earlier this year — it was strangely the song that I played when I felt that I was beginning to put my life together: when I started working at Corso, when I felt like I was not just passing through each day but was starting to make plans and think about what I want — the song comforted me.  I used to cry when it started playing in the middle of the night, as I am struggling to keep up with them boring law school books.  I think I was trying so hard to fix myself then and the song was like me talking to myself.

Hearing it again on the radio brought an errie feeling — a sense of relief, a sort of self-recognition of some sorts of rites of passage that I had experienced — and a sense of loss that the experience seems over.  Or is it that I feel like I am once again feeling lost, feeling like I am losing sight of where I want my life to go? And even losing the courage and motivation to explore?

I don’t know.

going through a miso phase…

I love soups, but I have never been a fan of miso soup.

Especially the way they make them in your typical American Japanese restaurants — the soup just tastes “dead” to me — the saltiness of the miso is the only thing that comes through. Bleh. The beauty of soups is their layers, their whole-heartedness, or on the other end of the spectrum, the soothing beauty of its clarity — your typical restaurant miso soup sat on neither ends.

But I always knew that miso soup could shine — I love the home-style, hearty miso soup they serve at Katsu Hama in New York City — filled with julienned cabbage, carrots and onions.  The sweetness of the vegetables flavor the miso soup and add another dimension of flavor (and not to mention texture).  I also, absolutely adore, the clam-based miso soup Thomas serves at Taki Sushi.

About two weeks ago I made a successful pot of miso soup at home — and have been craving miso ever since.  The key, really, I have found (finally confirmed what all the other food blogs and chinese mom-cooks have told me), is to mix the miso into a paste before adding them to the soup, and NEVER boil the miso to maintain its fermented, sweet flavor.  I forgot to take pictures, but here’s your basic vegetable miso soup recipe:

Home-style vegetable-based miso soup

Ingredients

• shiro miso paste /white miso paste (obviously, you can use red)
• 1 onion, julienned
• 1-2 carrots, julienned
• 1-2 daikon, julienned (feel free to substitute and change the vegs)
• touch of soy sauce
• salt
• cilantro
• water or stock

1. sweat your vegetables in a med size sauce pan.
2. add in water (or stock if you want), bring to a boil them simmer until veg are tender.
3. in a small bowl, add in a table spoon of the simmering liquid from the pan, mix in miso and soy sauce to form a paste
4. dump the miso-soy paste into the soup, stir and remove from heat.
5. add salt, cilantro for garnish.

More miso recipes to come — I am sure….already thinking miso marinated fish, miso pork, miso steamed tofu….miso sweet parsnip puree (yeah fall)?

Back in the kitchen

Sorry for being gone for awhile. 

I took a hiatus from the kitchen to deal with the hell that is law school finals.  After that and a brief break I am now working as a summer associate at a big law firm.  Given the state of the economy, the work environment is, well, a little stressful.  I guess I am also starting to feel pressured about figuring out exactly what to do after law school.

But I have been back working in the restaurant for two weekends now.  The first weekend was awkward, my unfamiliarity with the place got to me and I started questioning my own actions and became even slower.  At the same time there was a small part of me that was surprised by what I have retained and what I still remembered.  Thinking about how I felt that first weekend now, I am reminded of what Chef B once told me, that there is something to be said about the ability to just enter a kitchen, any kitchen, and be able to work in there.

I took sometime last week during the day and watched the clip of Michael Symon’s guest lecture to CIA students on youtube.  It’s a fairly simple clip and he does not impart any ground-breaking knowledge, but somehow it helped me shape how I entered the kitchen this past weekend.  Instead of being freaked out about being fast, I told myself my #1 goal in there is not to be fast, but to be good at what I do — being fast is but an integral element of being good at it.  But be efficient, be smart about how I do things, be responsive, and be not taking up too much space, and speed will naturally follow (I think, hopefully anyway, right?)

I had a good weekend working at the kitchen. It felt good to be doing something with my hands and making things.

Still freaked out and stressed out as hell about the law thing though.

Tomorrow morning if you wake up, and the sun does not appear….

(a line from a love song I have always adored and that was played at my oldest sister’s wedding)

Taiwanese beef noodle soup (紅燒牛肉麵)

taiwanese braised beef noodle soup

I made Taiwanese braised beef noodle soup for the second time with a modified recipe and actually managed to jot down my changes this time.  This time, I eliminated the use of a pre-packaged 滷包 — basically the Chinese version of a herb sachet (I am forgetting the phrase for this, a bouquet garni? too lazy to verify this right now) made with dried Chinese spices.  Instead I just added the actual spices that are commonly found (and that I like) in the pre-packaged Chinese sachet so that I can control exactly what is going into that broth.

I also made use of my Fagor multi-cooker by first cooking the beef tendon in the pressure cooker and the slow cooking the whole thing using the slow cooker function.  You can of course just cook the whole thing on stovetop over low heat if you want — the main point here is that the tendon takes much longer to cook than the beef shank/shin so I would cook it for 40 minutes more.

Ingredients:

Beef shank/shin (牛腱) or you can use beef stew meat/beef chunk roast/beef short ribs), 1 lb;
green onions/scallions, 3-4 stalks;
ginger, 4-5 slices;
garlic, 3-4 cloves;
thai chili peppers, 2-3, seeds removed;
1 tomato, cut into quarters;
1 yellow onion, peeled and cut into quarters;
1 carrot;
Chinese chili sauce (辣椒醬), 1 tsp;
Taiwanese bullhead bbq/satay sauce (沙茶醬), 2 tbsp;
spicy Chinese soy-bean paste sauce (辣豆瓣醬), 3 tbsp;
soy sauce (about 1.5 cup);
water (to cover, I believe the ratio of soy sauce to water I had was about 1 to 9 but don’t count me on this — will verify);
rice wine, 2 tbsp;
Chinese star anise, 2-3 pieces;
dry orange peel, 1-2 pieces

1. Bring pot of water to a boil and blanch tendon and beef shank. Then immediately chill in ice water to stop the cooking process.
2. Heat bottom of another pot — add oil — throw in ginger slices, green onion stalks, thai chili peppers, garlic — cook on medium high until fragrant
3. throw in tomato, carrot, onions — cook until onions are soft.
4. add in spicy bean paste, taiwanese bbq sauce, chinese chili sauce, pour in soy sauce — cook for a minute or two
5. deglaze bottom of pot with cooking wine. throw in tendon and shank.
6. cover with water.
7. Bring pot to boil and simmer for 2-3 hours, until beef shank and tendon are soft.
8. Strain the broth (alternatively, you can put everything but the beef shank and tendon, onion, carrot and tomato into sachets.  You can pick out the onion, carrot and tomato after.
9. Skim the broth.  This is critical. I did this 3 times.
10. Slice the beef and tendons into cubes or slices, depending on what you prefer.
11. Cook noodles in another pot. add. garnish with lots of green onions.

If I have time later this weekend i am going to take photos of the sauces I am referring to so everyone knows what I am talking about…but omg, delicious.

checklist (or reassurance) for the restaurant intern

Line cook is a new blog that I’ve been “following”.  I came across the blog about a week ago when I googled for line cook/restaurant blogs out of desperation.  Interestingly enough, on February 22 of this year, Richie “the Line Cook” (who works at Nopa in SF, I think), posted a blog/podcast titled Skipping Culinary School. A Guide.

It’s a pleasurable read. It’s good to know that at least according to the entry, I am doing all the right things (well, almost all of it and more). So to everyone who has said to me at some point during the past month something along the lines of: “you look tired”, “are you busy?”, “I am busy so I can’t do xyz”, “you always have five minutes to call”…etc. I suggest you read the guide above.  I am not up to the 6-month time line that Richie describes, but I have been doing almost everything he prescribes, plus being a law student, trying to be a good friend, and failing at being a good daughter or caring sister.

Now trying to stay calm and not let the anger get me.

想問天問大地 或者是迷信問問宿命
放棄所有 拋下所有
讓我飄流在安靜的夜夜空裡

你也不必牽強再說愛我
反正我的靈魂已片片凋落
慢慢的拼湊 慢慢的拼湊
拼湊成一個完全不屬於真正的我

– 夜夜夜夜 by熊天平

But there is something gratifying about skimming a stock…

I apologize for the rambling entry, but I am so exhausted living this double life.  I literally feel like I might collapse any moment (not faint, not feel dizzy, but just collapse because I’ve fallen dead asleep).

Today I had a chance to take a 20-minute nap before class and I fell asleep instantly on the couch in the student center despite the stupid door that beeps every other second, and the ppl walking in and out and talking around me.  After class, I went home and attempted to work for like 15 minutes before I decided that I should just lie down on my bed for awhile.  Usually that literally just means lying on my bed because I always have trouble falling asleep, but today I was out just like that and slept for a good hour and more.

I have beef shin and tendon defrosted in my fridge for 2 days because I was going to make Taiwanese beef noodle soup, but have had no time to get to them.  Instead I have been eating ramen noodle, frozen stuff, junk food, and just consuming a lot of alchie  (as long as I am rambling here…why the hell did we ever drink bailey’s when we were young? it’s disgusting.)

A bunch of little stuff happened this week too, but to sum up: I am exhausted, frustrated, and lost. And all of this is making me feel like I am fighting this battle alone, for no good reason.

But Chef C was showing me how to skim a stock properly this past Monday night, and he was saying how we could just wait for it to cool and take off the top layer of fat after it has solidified.  Then he said, “but then there is also something gratifying about skimming a stock, you know?”

I was slow to respond and I think he assumed I am thinking he is crazy, cuz he smiled and said, “no? maybe its just me.”

Actually, I was stunned by the beauty of it.  It was so eloquently simple, yet true.  There is  something gratifying about what may appear to others to be the tiniest accomplishments in the kitchen.

His comment reminded me of the “lemony-thyme” moment back in December last year that had re-triggered the chef dreams in me and ultimately led me to my crazed, double-life now.  So yes, I still feel like I might collapse any moment, but somehow, thinking about Chef C’s comment made all this self-imposed madness seemed a little less mad (just a tad anyway).

restaurant internship update 2.24

Last night was so cool.

All the chefs were there. Among other things, the new sous chef (“Chef C”) showed me how to grind and emulsify sausages. We also talked more about the different theories and ways of making an aioli. The other sous chef (“Chef D”), who happened to be the only one with a culinary education background, showed me how to sharpen knives.

Last week Chef D had shown me how to butcher/fillet fish, but last night the head chef showed me how to butcher rabbits…and then I butchered a tray of them.  Sorry if you are an animal lover!

for better or worst…

I had a turbulent week at my restaurant internship.

Over the Valentine’s / President’s Day long weekend I worked three nights in a row and got to some more talking with the chefs during the afterhours.  Chef A continued to be my mentor and I felt comfortable to share with him my little “chef success” story that had took place earlier that week.  I was having lunch with people at the law school cafe and one of my friends spilled her drink all over her books and chair.  I instantly got up and fetched some napkins and heard the big “oh no” gasp as I was walking away from the table.  And then I thought, that was a chef moment.  I didn’t think. I didn’t comment.  I just reacted.

Chef A heard the story and smiled, giving me a high-five.  “Good job. I am proud of you. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Monday I showed up to work and found out that Chef A was gone.

I still don’t know what really happened and I never will.  The news traumatized and scared me and saddened me more than I expected.  For starters, I have to admit that I am just naive.  In my past office jobs while the economy was booming no one ever got fired or laid off.  People left for various reasons, accompanied by two-week notices, goodbye parties and happy hours.  I think it scared me how easily someone could just leave the restaurant.  I think it made the chef as a career move seemed all the more risky.  Selfishly, I also feared what would happen to me, the crappy intern who had been mostly working with Chef A?

But most importantly I mourned the loss of the chance to work with Chef A.   I recognize that I have been tremendously lucky to have met great mentors in the different jobs that I have held and treasure those relationships dearly.  I know how fortunate I am to have people who have been there that are willing to share their knowledge and experiences with me.  While other mentors may come along, so far, Chef A had filled that role for me in the professional kitchen.  I was not afraid to ask him questions, both about technique and about the industry generally.  And though I saw how militant he was with everyone else, I knew part of that style came from his passion for the place and respected him for it.

I felt the same way that I had felt before when I was leaving my old jobs, leaving my mentors there.

But I also, again selfishly, knew that there was a silver lining in all this.  No more Chef A.  Now I can see if I really do love the kitchen.  Now I can experience working under a different, new authority.  Now I can try to slice and dice my emotions and try to make sense of this internship experience.  This is the reality: the high turnover rate in the industry.  I am getting the full “restaurant” exposure — the good, the bad, and the unknown.

This past Saturday rolls around and I find myself hanging out with the chefs (minus Chef A) after work like nothing had happened.  I respect them and find them to be amazing individuals, each of them.  I don’t know what the working dynamics will be like for me going forward, but I realized that, for better or worst, I still want to learn from them.  I still need to figure this out.

So I say, “Thank You, Chef A.”  Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me.   Thank you, Chef.

The Pasture by Robert Frost

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha’n’t be gone long.–You come too.

I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha’n’t be gone long.–You come too.

Taiwanese Oyster Omelette (蚵仔煎)

Taiwanese oyster omelette upclose 蚵仔煎 upclose

taiwanese oyster omelette 蚵仔煎2

I bought oysters the other day so that I can practice my shucking skills (or lack thereof), so I decided to make the famous Taiwanese street food oyster omelette 蚵仔煎.  It’s a shame I forgot to buy the sauce to go with it.  I also did not have any Taiwanese cabbage so I used lettuce instead.  Shucking was fun! I am still slow as hell, but I am improving, and come to think of it, I should buy another batch so I can continue working on this.

Recipe taken from Eupho Cafe

Ingredients (1 serving): 10-12 oysters, Taiwanese cabbage (小白菜) or some sort of lettuce greens, 2 eggs beaten, 6-7 tbsp corn starch, water, salt and pepper to taste

1. shuck oysters or clean them (if already shucked); chopped greens into bite-size pieces
2. mix corn starch with water so that you get an extremely gooey, cement-like paste (thicker than you would need it to thicken soup.
3. heat a saute pan over medium heat.  Add 1 tbsp of oil, then add about half of the oysters.
4. pour in half of the corn starch mixture and half of the egg mixture.
5. put the lettuce greens on top as the egg begins to form an omelette.
6. add the rest of the oysters, egg, corn starch mixture.  flip the omelette over for 1 minute before serving.
   

Oven-roasted root vegetables (parsnips and carrots)

roasted parsnips and carrots

Roasting winter root vegetables is easy, and super sweet and delicious since the vegetables are in season, and cheap because you can buy the root vegetables locally.  Here I have parsnips and different colored carrots, including super sweet blood carrots that have a deep-red, vein-like skin.

Ingredients: extra virgin olive oil, kosher salt, black pepper,various winter root vegetables (parsnips and carrots here)

1. preheat oven to 400 F.
2. Peel carrots and parsnips, then cut then into equal-length strips.
3. toss the carrots and parsnips in a bowl with extra virgin olive oil, kosher salt, black pepper.
4. spray the bottom of a baking dish with nonstick spray, spread out the root vegetables on the baking dish and bake forabout 30-40 minutes.