Take mint from the garden, and simmer with milk, cream and sugar. Let steep half hour before heating again and adding to egg yolks. Cool before pouring in machine.
After mixture reaches a thick but not-quite-done texture, toss in some creme fraiche and let churn for a bit more ...
Scoop into bowl, and top with more mint from the "garden." Eat. Yum.
Experimental version of Dak Dori Tang with seared chicken thighs, mixed baby potatoes, green onions and a side of mixed-grain rice. Think I may have to fork-and-knife this one.
Koreanese bento #8: Bulgogi, shigumchi namul and oiee moochim on a bed of rice; (misshapen) seaweed heart roll with yellow bell pepper; salad and fresh fruit.
Fried panko shrimp and roasted sesame dressing float on a sea of somen noodles; fish-shaped hardboiled eggs swim by a colorful reef of cherry tomatoes, shredded carrots, celery sticks and baby arugula.
OK, I guess one would be hard-pressed to call my back staircase a garden. But we must make do with what we have. And though the view is only of my neighbor’s adjacent building, this is San Francisco after all, having a bench seat for one and a pocket of sunshine just off my kitchen is truly a joy.
When it’s not raining and storming like today, I sit and have my morning coffee with Gnome. We stare blissfully at our pots of succulents and herbs, as if they were the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
We have great plans for our little space, which we plan to fill until we all but crowd ourselves out. We’ll have hanging plants and boxed plants and plants mounted on the walls in burlap sacks …
But for now, nous somme content. And that is the whole point of this little “garden” after all.
Chicken sausage octopi invade unsuspecting bento box, feasting on the kimchi omu rice, edamame and fresh berries inside.
As I’m going through a Japanese cuisine cooking phase, I’ve been studying up a lot on the subject, watching video series on YouTube, like Cooking with Dog, and pouring over my favorite Japanese cookbooks in the tub (favorite pastime).
I’ve realized that sometimes I’m not sure if something is Japanese or Korean … For instance, the above-mentioned omurice. Now, I first ate the omelet-over-fried-rice dish while studying abroad in Seoul. We would slather ketchup all over the tasty egg and then dig in with one of those long, wide Korean spoons down to the steaming rice below.
But then, I look in my Japanese cookbooks, and there it is: omurice. So which one is it?
And then there’s the matter of rabbit-shaped apple slices. My mother made these for me my whole childhood. It was the only way I would eat apples, which I never much cared for … Even today, I never eat apples (thought I do love apple sauce, juice, pie, etc.) But I guarantee that if you slice an apple up like a bunny, I will finish the whole thing!
Then, earlier this year, I discovered the apple bunnies in the pages of The Just Bento Cookbook, which states that all Japanese kids grow up knowing and loving these tasty treats. What? They’re not Korean? How can that be?
A plate of apple bunnies, just like my mom used to make. I ate the whole thing.
But I guess growing up where no one else’s mom packed apple bunnies in their lunches, much less roasted seaweed squares and stinky kimchee, I had no one to compare with … There wasn’t another Korean kid in my class until high school and certainly no Japanese!
I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter whether apple bunnies or omurice originated in Japan or Korea. They’re still a part of what I see as my amorphous and ever-changing Asian-American culture/identity. But I’m still curious who invented them.
Here’s a video on making omurice on “Cooking with Dog.”
The Kim Family on their annual seaside vacation somewhere beyond Seoul, circa 1960s. My mom is the one in the funky cat-eye shades!
Props to KoreAm magazine’s recent article on “The Kimchee Chronicles,” a show on the wonders of Korean cuisine hosted by Hapa Korean American adoptee Marja Vongerichten. Not only is Marja a stunning former model and actress, but she happens to be married to the famed Jean-Georges, global chef extraordinaire. But what really gets my wheels turning is her apparent love for Korean food — the connection it brings to her culture of origin and her desire to share this love with the world.
Marja and I are the same age, which I like to think means something … Even though our experiences are worlds apart: I grew up with my Korean family in close connection and in Florida to boot. But I did spend several years in New York City, and I do know what it’s like to never have relations with part of your family until adulthood.
The show airs on PBS sometime soon … Can’t wait to see where she takes us. Makes me want to dig out my hanbok, some old family albums and a map. Perhaps I’ll plan a trip back to Seoul. (It’s been more than a decade since my first and last visit. What a shame!)
Hanging outside the Temple of Hatshepsut with Paul and Omri. August 2005.
Dear Egypt,
I know it’s been a long time since we last spoke. I haven’t seen you in more than five years, though in someways it feels like many more.
This is such a difficult time for you, it’s hard to know what to say. I can only try to imagine what you are going through. The pictures I see on the news and the stories I hear … It is too much to have you so far away. Please know that I am thinking of you right now, and wishing you find the peace you seek.
I will never forget the kindness you showed me on Sept. 11, 2001, and in the days after … And it was good to spend time with you again in 2005 under happier circumstances. Please give my love to the Nile, the Pillars of Karnak, the bustling streets of Cairo, the bedouin tents in the desert Sinai and all the amazing fishies in the great big Red Sea.