anzu

Had time to think of another reason why it could be bitter. Fenugreek seeds are intriniscally bitter and are EXTREMELY bitter when over roasted. Try a couple raw, clear your palate (by eating some rice or bread, for example). Roast a few seeds by placing them in an unoiled skillet over medium heat, try the taste test again, and keep roasting a few until they are clearly overdone. Taste those as well. Were any of those flavours reminscent of the bitterness you were experiencing? I started wondering this after thinking about how you were showing your roasted spices in the photo (i.e. all in one dish). I wasn't sure if maybe you'd roasted them all at the same time, or had put them together to cool or ready for grinding. How are you roasting them? I always use the aforementioned dry skillet, and roast each spice separately, as the times each require vary greatly. (And it's also a very rare Indian kitchen that has an oven). Turmeric and chilli also taste bitter when over roasted. Panch Poran is the same spice mixture, just different spelling. BTW, BBhasin, the Prasad book seriously drives me crazy. No index at the back, the page numbering in the contents section of the book does not make it easy to find the dish within the body of the book, and a knowledge of Hindi and Persian are almost a prerequisite in the contents section to know what the dish actually is. Yes, having studied Persian, I will know more or less what the dish will be when I see a name like "Khuroos-e-Tursh", but would it have killed them to at least give a hint to others that the dish is referring to chicken? On top of that, a lot of the recipes seem to me to be the type where five steps must be followed where anyone else would use two or three... Yes, the book will give you good results with food, but no way is it user friendly.

A couple of points. Yes, the dish should have been cooked for much longer. I usually cook it for at least half an hour in a pressure cooker. I don't see how a shorter cooking time would make it taste bitter (though maybe someone will correct me here). It could be from burning the onions or the spices though. Perhaps you let it darken a little too much in the bhuna stage? (You should be sprinkling a little water into the pan every time it seems it is about to burn, were you doing that?). Also, your spices might have been under-roasted. Even though you say that your onions were darker than in the photo, I would still have cooked them for longer again. I have taught Indian cooking classes and getting people to fry stuff for long enough is always the hardest part! You are still perhaps being a little over-influenced by the briefness of stir-frying? Sorpotel (also called sarapatel) does not contain cashews. Are you quite sure they said this in your book? It is occasionally - and not all that often - cooked with feni (cashew liqueur) in addition to vinegar. Do try sorpotel, particularly if you like liver. There is a recipe here for sorpotel. Obviously you do not have to use the amount of dried red chillis they are suggesting here! I have three Goan cookbooks in front of me right now, all written by people from Goa. One of them (and I think the linked recipe has been based on this) asks for 30 chillis, one asks for 15 chillis, or to taste, and the other asks for 2 teaspoons chilli powder, or to taste. All are recipes with the same quantity of meat. Two of them want only pork and liver, no heart. In addition, the suggestion in this link that the sorpotel be boiled up again daily is a suggestion for people without refrigeration. It helps the flavors mellow as well, but if you keep it for four days before eating, for example, and don't boil it up again every single day, I wouldn't sweat the issue (presuming you're refrigerating it of course!) A suggestion for getting used to which spices you personally like and dislike. Cook something with a more neutral flavour, such as potatoes. Fry onions and/or garlic and/or ginger, then add peeled cubed potatoes and only one or two of the spices you want to experiment with. Depending on the spice, you should probably be frying the spice briefly before adding the potatoes (refer to your cookbooks here as how long and at what time varies according to the spice). Stir the potatoes around a few times so that they are well mixed in with the spices, then add water, bring to a boil, and cook til the potatoes are soft. Try, for example: turmeric + coriander powder + cumin (or any combination of the three) turmeric + tomatoes curry leaves + mustard seeds panch phoron (a Bengali spice mix) aniseed (NOT star anise) + cumin + sesame seeds These spice combinations are basically typical for home-cooked vegetable dishes BTW, I am not suggesting any radical combinations where the results will be inedible! This way, you should start to get a feel of how the individual spices are working within the dish, and how you personally feel towards those spices.

The Chinese name is fo shou gua 佛手瓜. This means "Buddha's hands melon" as the shape is meant to resemble the way some Buddhists put their hands together while praying. I've given the name in Mandarin. You may have been told it in Cantonese. That is, I think, fat shau kwa. Happy eating!

While I'm obviously not too aware of what's available in New York, try finding places which cater to Thai customers. Coriander in such places is usually sold with the roots on, and I have even seen coriander roots for sale without the rest of the plant. If you can find plants with the roots, they have the bonus of staying fresh much longer than coriander sold without the roots. You can even cut off the roots first and use them separately and, as long as you have left a tiny stub of root attached, the leaves still stay fresh for longer. Growing it yourself is also not entirely out of the question. I have managed to successfully grow coriander in window boxes, and in climates quite similar to New York. I sow the seeds quite thickly as at best I get a germination rate below 50 percent, and keep very thoroughly watered. Growing this plant can be a bit variable. Great germination and growth on one occasion, and complete failure on another.

Purists will probably want to shoot me, but I would personally say yes to both substitutions. (Disclaimer: I have never tasted Cambodian preserved limes, I am only familiar with the Thai ones. I do believe, though, that they are fundamentally the same.) The Thai preserved limes are preserved whole, in brine. There is no extra lime juice added to the pickling liquid. I have sometimes substituted these for Middle Eastern ones (the people from that forum will also be wanting to shoot me). Despite what the recipe says, I am referring to limes and not to lemons as I do not think there is such a thing as preserved lemons in SE Asia. I may very well be remembering incorrectly, but I seem to recall reading somewhere long ago that the temperatures required for lemon and lime trees differ, and therefore you will usually find one and not the other in various countries. I personally have never seen lemons anywhere in SE Asia or seen recipes using them. Also, preserved limes are quite commonly sold in SE Asian markets (sometimes labelled as lemons), whereas lemons are not. That said, once preserved, they develop a similar taste and texture to the middle eastern lemons. Kapi lek is shrimp paste (isn't it?), so obviously it will not be identical with fish paste. However, it is being used to provide a depth of background flavor in basically the same way, so in your place I would go ahead and use it. In addition, when the authors have said that some people substitute shrimp paste, it is this kind of product they have in mind, I think. Hey, go ahead. The worst thing that can happen is that it absolutely bombs and you have to throw it out!

Prahok is preserved fish. It is in paste form, sold in jars, and is gray in color. In The Elephant Walk Cookbook , the authors state that it might be sold in Southeast Asian groceries, and is probably labelled as 'mudfish' or as 'preserved gray featherback fish'. I'm not sure, but it might possibly be available in Yokohama Chinatown, particularly in places catering to Thai customers. The authors do state that it is extremely strong, and requires getting used to. They also say that some people will substitute anchovies or shrimp paste. As far as leaving it out is concerned, the authors have given five different recipes for somlah machou. In each, prahok has been listed as optional. In addition, the souring agent in all five soups is tamarind. None of them asks for preserved mandarins. With all respect to BonVivantNL, I think a little more leeway in ingredients is often a good thing. Given the poverty that has been and is still present in Cambodia, I am sure that there would be plenty of households making this soup without preserved mandarins, and possibly without some of the other 'compulsory' ingredients as well. It will not be exactly the same as the soup you enjoyed, but it will still be both authentic and tasty. BTW, I would highly recommend the book itself. Not only are the recipes delicious, but most of them call for ingredients that are easily obtained in Japan (daikon, shrimps, and so on).

Not that unfamiliar with raw figs, I would say. I lived in two different parts of Kansai, and both places there were neighbours with fig trees in their gardens. The second place (Osaka that time around) the owner was also selling them out the front of his house, with about ten figs to a tray and charging maybe 150 yen for the lot (not that long ago, but forgotten the exact price). So I figure if they were that unfamiliar, they wouldn't have been grown so often. Surely, also, one would not be charging such a reasonable price, and leaving the fruit outside for people to pay by the honor method? Of course, I could have come across the only two fig trees in the whole of Kansai, but I kind of doubt it!

Thanks to this thread I made shiso pesto the other day. Just shiso, olive oil, and salt. (lacking pine nuts and parmesan, maybe you should just called this mushed shiso?) and served it over spaghetti. Whatever you'd call it, it was really good, and I'd NEVER have thought of it if it hadn't been brought up here. As was mentioned in the Chinese thread on shiso, it is used a lot in Vietnamese cooking, and any type of Vietnamese herb platter (as with pho for example) definitely does well with shiso added. Haven't tried this yet, but there is a Vietnamese salad - Ga Xe Phay - with shredded roast or boiled chicken, shredded cabbage and shredded carrot, dressed with fish sauce, lime juice, rice vinegar, sugar, garlic, sliced fresh red chilli, chopped peanuts and plenty of shredded mint. The ingredients of this can be varied quite a bit, and I'm sure that shiso would go well with it either in addition to or in place of the mint. With natto? I'll pass, thanks.

I love this thread. Finally, the place to ask things I've been unsure about. These are embarassing, since they reveal not only my ignorance but most of them also make it sound as if I would fail food hygiene 101 and that my house is teaming with contagion and rotting food. Really, it's not. These questions have been building up over a long time! Deep breath. Here goes: 1) Olives. I usually buy them loose, which means that they are no longer covered in brine once they were scooped out by the salesperson. I keep them in the same container I've brought them home in, which is usually either a small plastic tub or a plastic bag. Within a couple of days in the fridge they are often covered with small whitish specks and/or a sticky brinelike substance seems to be surrounding the oilves, but is way stickier than brine. Are my olives going bad? If so, is there some better way I could be storing them to stop or retard the process? 2) Anchovy paste in a tube. How long can it be kept safely after opening? No tube I've ever bought says this, but surely its life must be limited? I know it's filled with heaps of salt, but it is still fish after all. 3) Dried kidney beans. Even though I buy these from places with a fast turnover, buy the newest stuff possible, and they also get consumed very quickly at our place, the dried beans often have a faint whitish powdery coating on them which appears to disappear when I wash them. Is it mold and should I be worried about it? 4) Fresh bay leaves. My tree is about two feet high. Is there an optimal place I should be picking the leaves from off the tree, so that growth will be stimulated and the tree not be damaged? Or are laurel trees not so sensitive to such things? 5) Left over wine that I'd like to use at some later point in cooking. Is it okay to freeze it? 6) Indian carrot pickle. My mother in law makes a traditional North Indian black carrot pickle every winter. This involves black carrots, about 8 cups of water, 1 teaspoon crushed mustard seeds, and 2 tablespoons salt. You put the lot in a big jar and leave it in the sun for about 4-5 days. This is during winter in Delhi, so temperatures are very roughly comparable with the temperatures in California. One is meant to drink the liquid and eat the carrot pieces. I have NEVER dared eat any of this pickle - I've got bad food poisoning from my mother in law's food a couple of times and now always err on the side of caution. But, should it actually be okay?? Are the quantities of salt and mustard in this much water enough to make this stuff safe, or is it just sitting there and breeding up a whole bunch of bacteria?

I recently read a newspaper article reviewing a new book (in German only) featuring seaweed recipes. In the review, they stated that this book gave no recipes for either konbu or hijiki. The reason? These two allegedly are dangerous for your health. According to the article, konbu and hijiki are the two seaweeds that contain maximum iodine. Because they are natural products growing in varying places under varying conditions, the amount of iodine they contain will vary greatly and can be anywhere between negligeable and enough to (allegedly) send your thyroid into shock. They went on to state that eating konbu and hijiki is okay for Japanese as it has been eaten in Japan for generations, and peoples' bodies are used to it. So then I went and had a quick look in local Asian grocery stores and health food stores. Sure enough, the range of other seaweeds is much larger, while the selection of konbu and hijiki is small. The health food stores actually have health warnings near the konbu saying not to consume too much. Now, a search (admittedly quite a brief search) on Google suggested that too much is bad if you already have thyroid problems, but I couldn't find anything saying that it's actually going to CAUSE new problems. And this deal about it being okay for Japanese (presuming that it truly is not okay to eat) because it's been eaten for generations sounds rather iffy to me. How much konbu or hijiki would poor peasants have been eating in pre-Meiji Japan if they were living inland? Konbu was, as I understand it, harvested in the north at considerable expense, and was costly enough that it was a major export article to China (where it was used by people as a salt substitute because salt was extremely highly taxed). So how many people were able to afford it and were eating it on a regular basis? Your thoughts please.

Hmm, maybe time to define my stance a little! I'm not asking about whether I have wronged my husband here. I'm asking about how far other people like to go in discussing what is in the food they're serving or about to serve. For me, a great deal of the joy in cooking and eating is pushing the limits of what one eats just that little bit further. It does not involve leaps large enough to make the eater uncomfortable, though it may, perhaps, leave him/her teetering on the edge of their comfort zone. Now, the form this takes will depend on existing food habits. If I give horse to my husband, it's because I know that he's already okay with kangaroo, reindeer, elk, moose, and donkey. To me, there would not seem to be a quantum leap. On the other hand, I wouldn't serve cat, dog, or grasshopper without warning, because I do rather doubt he would be happy with these. I should point out, perhaps, that when cooking for others, I always ask first about what foods or general food categories are not acceptable. And then what I give them will be decided accordingly. If cooking for someone used to eating only spinach, for example, the process of pushing the envelope might be as simple as serving swiss chard instead. Or cooking with butter for someone who has only ever used margarine. To me, serving roasted cauliflower to a person who has eaten it cooked only in other ways is also part of the same process. Further, there will ALWAYS be a variety of alternative dishes on my table for those who wish to avoid a particular food. The variation in comfort zones is why I put 'weird' in quote marks in the first place. What is 'weird' for one person is utterly commonplace for another. And I chose this word deliberately rather than exotic, objectionable, or any other word. So, in this context, I would definitely agree that adding mint to a dish was adding a 'weird' ingredient, given that the eater's expectations of the dish were different. And so it's interesting to me that you didn't disclose it. As far as serving heart goes. Who are you serving it to? Have you told them in advance? (i.e. at what point did you disclose it??). Are you providing alternative dishes as well? So, let's back away from horse as it's obviously pushing a few people way past their comfort zone. Choose whatever foodstuff you desire, and now imagine serving it with a slight twist to someone who has either not eaten that food before, or has not eaten it prepared in that way. Pumpkin greens in place of spinach. Coriander powder baked into the chocolate cake. Whatever. Now, would you disclose the ingredients first, or just go ahead and serve it?

Notice no one's stepped forward yet to say they can make hand pulled noodles! The guy I used to watch making them in Shanghai kept the kneaded dough covered in a generous amount of flour. No oil was used at any point. This could, I guess, be for reasons of economy rather than taste or workability of the dough. When a customer ordered a serving of noodles he would cut off a section of dough, roll it once in the extra flour, then pull. So no extra flour or oil after that initial point.

A nearby supermarket recently started stocking horse meat, so of course I bought some and cooked it. About seven eighths through the meal, my husband suddenly asked what the meat was we were eating. When I told him, he refused to eat the rest, and accused me of being cruel. Cruel to him, that is, for not having told him what I was serving him. Now, I normally never say in advance what it is I'm dishing up, whether it's taro, banana flower or, in this case, horse. And it's never actually been an issue before even though I am (ahem) slightly wont to experiment. So, should you warn people about to eat your food that the ingredients might be different from what they're used to? Wouldn't this frighten off the easily intimidated before they've even tasted it so that they will never experience the joyous taste of whatever it is you're serving? (It goes without saying that I am not advocating keeping ingredients secret when cooking for people with food restrictions, be these restrictions religious, allergy-related, or of any other type.)

Actually, no. I know the type you are referring to and in fact have some at home right now. They were bought, just to confuse the issue, at a grocery store that imports all its produce from Pakistan, and Indian and Pakistan customers are quite happy to buy them. However, the ones I'm referring to are on average about 7-8 cm long, though they can range from, say, 5-12 cm in length. They are, very approximately, 1 cm in width. As far as heat goes, they vary considerably, like so many chillis do. I usually check their heat before adding them to a dish (as in, cut chilli, touch finger to cut end, touch finger to tongue), so as to be sure it won't be bland or won't blow my head off (unless that's what I'm aiming for). Sour? I never thought so. But maybe that's just me. (or just you?!) And yes, as far as I know, the chillis in India cross-pollinate like mad. Occasionally one buys capsicum/green bell pepper/ Simla mirch or whatever else you want to call it, and they have, it would seem, been grown next to hot chillis and have cross-pollinated. Hot enough to make my hands sting after cutting them up (hot chillis I usually handle from the stem end while cutting them, so not an issue in their case). But it's also a rare enough event that I get caught by surprise every time it happens.

Having lived in quite a few countries, and bought and eaten tomatoes in all of them, I'd say that vine-ripened tomatoes taste considerablely better, and that those still on the vine generally taste better than those that were allegedly vine-ripened, but are not still on the vine. Just smell them, if packaging will allow, and you'll see what I mean. That said, supermarket tomatoes in the US were generally worse quality than anywhere else (though the UK can be pretty dire as well), and vine-ripened tomatoes were way overpriced. Yes, they're leaving them longer on the vine, but I don't feel the extra time justifies that much difference in price (same goes for red vs green bell peppers), so I feel the price difference is partially hype, or simply charging what they think the consumer will pay. Or do people, and not just the producers, want harder and nastier tomatoes (nothing should surprise me). In Western Europe, almost all the tomatoes are imported, and come from a wide variety of countries and in all stages from crap to luscious. Mostly they come from Holland, Spain, Italy, Greece, etc. That is, the difficulties of shipping, and shipping costs still have to be factored into the price here, but there is not such disparity in price between decent tomatoes and those which might better be used as tennis balls. (there must of course be other factors coming into this as well, such as different labor costs). On top of this, even most of the nasty totally cheap supermarkets will usually have a good selection of high quality vegetables, so I'm figuring that consumers in general are more picky about taste than in the US (?) Growing the tomatoes in greenhouses does not per se change the taste. Tomatoes from Spain (Murcia for example) are almost always going to be grown in greenhouses, but they will definitely taste better than those grown in greenhouses in Holland. Hydroponics must also play their part as well, but I feel it is above all the hours of sunlight that make the difference ((not exactly an earth-shatteringly new finding, I know). Of course, places with less tendency to pick fruits too early, and with huge amounts of heat and sunlight, like India, for example, will produce the most flavorful tomatoes of all. A couple of years back I was mad enough to have over fifty tomato plants in the ground, all fruiting prolifically at the same time. I reallly didn't find there was that much difference between their taste and those I had bought a few weeks before (here in Europe) that were greenhouse-grown, imported, and vine-ripened (and sold on the vine). So maybe what it boils down to is the need for a bit more consumer agitation in the US. Decent tasting tomatoes at an affordable price must surely be possible, they're just not letting you have them.

Don't forget borage! It grows easily and self seeds as well. Borage is so hardy that it even managed to grow in my former landlady's garden. She had actually managed to kill everything in that garden except for blackberries, nettles, dandelion and borage. She even managed to kill off mint, but the borage still survived, so I figure that's saying something. Incidentally, the leaves, though a bit hairy, are also edible. It's not just the flowers.

Here's one that's close to home for a lot of egulleters: Root beer. Every non-American I know, including myself, bought this in either the spirit of scientific enquiry or culinary curiosity, or by mistake - thinking it might be something palatable. This was not a mistake any of us ever repeated. And the idea of a root beer float... What a waste of icecream! Salted liquorice is popular in Sweden and Finland too, though maybe in not quite the variety of the Netherlands. But Finland has a wide varity of liquorice flavored things: chewing gum, liquorice icecream with liquorice syrup (interesting visually, but taste-wise ). I seem to remember liquorice flavored soft drinks as well, but maybe that's just a figment of my fevered imagination. And while in Scandinavia: viili ((the Finnish name) or filmjölk (in Swedish). This is a dairy product made in a similar way to yogurt. HOWEVER, in taste and texture it's like when you try to make yogurt yourself at home. You know how occasionally it just doesn't work (maybe this is just me ) and you have this nasty runny yet stringy texture... Vap ca aka Vietnamese fish mint. Words fail me on this one. Don't buy it. Don't try it. And finally cha om (Thai name) or tra om (Vietnamese name). These are acacia shoots, and are reputed to be 'strong flavored'. Rather an understatement IMHO. I had to scrub my pan twice and my chopping board five times before the smell would finally come out. My fridge smelt of it for days. It doesn't actually taste that bad, but the taste keeps 'recurring' for several hours after eating it. But how, on a previous post, could one say that Japanese sweets are not likeable!? I sure wasn't born in Japan, but Japanese sweets are to die for!

I lived in Delhi for several years with my in-laws, go back to India for about a month each year, and have also spent time in Hyderabad and Udaipur. A lot of that time was spent cooking with local people. If it helps, my in-laws are Punjabi. There was only one single occasion where there was any discussion about what type of chilles were going to be used. This was at a party in Delhi where the guy was basically showing off while his parents were away, and had cooked an (inedible) dish containing the hottest chillis he could find. I don't know the name, but they were smooth, round, small, and red. I've seen a lot of chillis in my time, but these were not ones that seem to be all that commonly available. I don't even known where he got hold of those chillis. I've only ever seen one variety available in the markets in India. Again, I don't know the name - it's the medium length, thin, bright green one that I simply think of as the generic Indian chilli. This is the one where they give you a handful free together with a free bunch coriander whenever you buy veg. I've also spent quite a bit of time cooking with people while outside of India. Mostly people from Uttar Pradesh, Bengal, and again Hyderabad. Also people from Pakistan (Punjab again). Again, none of them made any distinction about the type of chilli. The dried (South Indian?) chillis that one can buy whole and are stuffed with spices are clearly a different type of chilli. However, I have never seen them for sale fresh in India in the places where I've been. Hope this helps, Anzu

It is not easy. A (Chinese) friend and her husband have been running their own restaurant for over ten years, and even they still can't manage it properly. The following is a combination of tips from her and from a guy that ran a stall in Shanghai making only these pulled noodles (called lamian by the way) who I questioned closely a few years back. Use white flour (I don't know what type), mixed with water and no other ingredients. Knead the heck out of it and then knead more again. Leave to rest for several hours before trying to pull them. And don't count on being able to get a meal out of the ones you're practicing with. They will probably end up on the floor rather than in you cooking pot for the first few attempts! This is the voice of experience. Good luck.

I lived for 5 years in Columbus OH, and you could buy daifuku there. The selection was limited, and you could buy only frozen ones, but it was still not a complete desert as far as daifuku were concerned. There is a Japanese grocery store there called Seafood Japan, should you ever be in Columbus. However, some Chinese grocery stores also carried frozen ones. Of course, Columbus is not Cleveland, but you might want to consider checking the freezer cabinets in the Chinese groceries. Who knows?

I believe I can help with the difference betweensour and bad yogurt. I lived for a couple of years in an area where, in summer, the yogurt was clearly not kept cool enough during shipping and before being sold. Often, open opening, it had a pinkish growth covering the surface. That was clearly bad. Sour yogurt, on the other hand, quite simply smells and tastes sour. Even if extremely sour tasting it can still be okay for comsumption. In fact, in some places (Rajasthan, for example), the yogurt served is often so sour that I, personally, would have tossed it rather than eaten it. People like it that way there, however, and suffer no ill-effects from its consumption. Not sure if I can help as far as sour milk goes. Isn't it bad if has split (separated into curds and whey of its own accord)? If this has just happened recently, it would still be okay for making ricotta or paneer. Here, too, drinking this would not necessarily cause illness or even discomfort. Someone I knew who grew up in the UK said that their milk ALWAYS came in this form when he was young, and they drank it anyway. Now it it has actually changed color (a lightly blue-ish tinge), it would probably be better off tossed. Does it show that I spent quite a lot of my life living in really hot countries? Anzu