mizducky

Well, during the era in which "Little House on the Prairie" was set (the late 19th century), a large proportion of the US population lived--and worked hard--on farms. And my understanding is that breakfast was indeed a heavy-duty thing for lots of rural folk back then--that is, if they had the wherewithal to afford that kind and amount of food. Re: what Americans of yesteryear used to eat for breakfast: a little websurfing turned up the following fascinating site: Feeding America. Searching the collection of historic cookbooks archived on that site with the term "breakfast" turned up a huge number of references, including both familiar and unfamiliar breakfast foods (oysters are definitely represented, as are all sorts of fish, fowl, and game we modern Americans no longer think of as breakfast foods). Here's just one example, a list of foods considered appropriate for breakfast according to one of the cookbooks in their collection: clickie (section on breakfast foods starts halfway down the page). Edited to add: I have gratefully given up all notion of mandatory vs. verboten breakfast foods. Sometimes my breakfast looks sort of breakfast-y (yogurt, fruit, coffee); sometimes not (turkey sandwich on pita bread). I am most glad of never having to eat cold cereal ever again. Sometimes, however, I do eat hot cereal--but usually as a late afternoon snack. I greatly admire the Vietnamese custom of eating pho for breakfast--now that's the way to kick a day off right!

Hiroyuki, please know that I too am sending positive healing thoughts to your wife, and supportive thoughts to you and your household. I have always appreciated your posts too. I happen to think the plain old slice-of-life everyday cooking info from around the world is one of the best gifts that eGullet has given me. And as you know I am keenly fascinated by the cooking of all the Asian countries, very much including Japan. Your posts have taught me a lot--and I look forward to learning more from your blog. I'm especially looking forward to learning more about rural Japan, as I think most of my expsoure has been to the more urbanized aspects of Japanese culture. I might not get to comment on your blog a whole lot as I'll be traveling this week, but I'll definitely at least try to browse whenever I get my hands on an Internet connection. Good luck, and blog on! P.S. I also think your English is great! Especially when I think about what it might take for me to master written Japanese to anything approaching a similar level!

I used to have the stackable bamboo steamers. It was definitely fun doing a whole dinner in that rig--veggies on one level, fish on another. However, I finally decided that, for my simple purposes at any rate, the bamboo steamers were more fun than practical for a couple different reasons: --I was afraid putting food directly on the grid would cause flavors to penetrate the bamboo, so then I'd have to be lining each steamer level with paper or lettuce, or putting a plate in ... and the whole routine just became so fiddly that the bamboo steamer wound up languishing in a cabinet. --You kind of have to put a plate or liner in anyway if you have small pieces of food that might slip between the bars of the grids. --Using my wok as the water-holding container under the steamer meant that the just-boiling water would remove the seasoning from the wok. Some people do buy an extra wok just for steaming and other water-cooking methods just for this reason, but at the time I didn't have cabinet room for yet another wok (plus the bamboo steamer, etc.) But if you've already got the multi-tier steamer, and a spare wok whose seasoning you don't mind sacrificing, they're definitely fun to play with. And if you need to steam a bunch of different things, or a lot of one thing, simultaneously, then I think the convenience of a multi-tier steamer definitely justifies the extra fiddlie-factor.

I too like to do super-quick steams in the microwave. I load a bunch of cut-up veggies into a clear Pyrex baker--sometimes I'll drizzle in a little liquid, sometimes I'll just go with the water clinging to the veg after I've rinsed it--put the lid on, and nuke for a few minutes. The lid holds in the liquid/steam; the clear Pyrex lets me judge by color whether the veg is done without taking the lid off and losing my head of steam. Yep, broccoli really takes to this kind of treatment, turning a brilliant bright green--but as soon as it hits that color, you need to whip the lid off and dissipate the steam and heat, or else it'll overshoot and lose that color. A quick shock with cold water helps. I also use the collapsible petal steamer, even though, yep, it's a bit fiddly. And sometimes, just to be random I guess, I just fling the veg directly in the pot with about an inch of water, or the post-rinse water clinging to it, and put a lid on it and some heat under it--this last works best for tender fast-cooking leafy veggies. I find I can get great control of cooking time, even when mixing veggies of different densities in one steamer, by varying the size of cut chunks of veg. Dense heavy veggies like carrots, turnips, and broccoli stems get cut in thin slices/pieces; faster-cooking veggies like broccoli florets can be left a bit bigger. Mixing veggies can also impart some flavor to the whole, especially when the mix includes aromatics such as (sliced) onions. You can also get some flavor in during the steam by putting a couple of sprigs of herbs on top of all the other veg--as the whole mass steams, the steam condenses on the inside of the lid and then drips onto the herbs, infusing the herbal flavors into the veggies below. However, I find these flavor strategies can be pretty faint--it's more effective to do what others have already said, and season/sauce/flavor/etc. after the steaming step.

Well, for whatever it's worth, this latest Bourdain rant has won my heart, and my laughter, simply on the strength of the phrase "fur-bearing catfish." I relate Bourdain's style to the kind of high-voltage rants practiced by music writers in the punk rock era (a chunk of musical history which I gather is near and dear to Tony's heart as well). It's a style that's always set to 11 (to borrow another rock metaphor, this time from "This is Spinal Tap.") I dunno about anybody else, but this left-over punk rawk grrrl still thinks it rules. As for the show ... well, I too have been avoiding FTV for some time now, and just the thought of this show will keep me away for another long while. Yeah, this kind of show may seem to be an easy target to take potshots at. But since FTV is obviously NOT getting the message, maybe the target needs to be nuked a few more dozen times.

A few random reflections before your blog closes: That is indeed a wonderful green you picked for your kitchen. So fresh! I am in awe of your ability to keep up with your strenuous schedule and workload. (sez the ultra-non-morning person.) Really dug the spiky merengues. (Basically dug everything, actually.) I love the happy curve of your cat's tail while chowing down in the new kitchen. Feline seal of approval. Many thanks for your witty tour through your week!

I am at best an indifferent and infrequent fisherwoman, but the few times I've done it successfully have been sweet, if more symbolic than substantial. At one point I was living in Boston and working out at Digital in Maynard MA. Sometimes I'd get so bored with my daily commute that I'd skip the freeways and take the back routes, winding through towns like Concord (yep, that Concord, Walden Pond and all). I don't remember when I first noticed the occasional guy under an overpass casting into a creek, but it inspired me to pick up a cheap light rod of my own and go panfishing, something I hadn't done since my dad took me fishing when I was a kid. I think all I ever caught on these adult (or second childhood?) expeditions were a few panfish, barely a mouthful of edible food each, but I'd go through the business of cleaning them anyway, because, well, that was part of the ritual, man, you had to use what you caught! I remember thinking, hmm, they taste nice enough, but hardly worth the trouble simply from a nutritional standpoint. At least they were so small that they didn't produce all that much mess. But this exercise wasn't about putting food on the table. It was about staging a momentary escape from modern corporate America to stand on the bank of a stream, under a two-lane overpass, with the marshy grasses waving and the little critters all chirping and rustling around me, methodically casting and playing my little flashy spinner and neon-colored salmon eggs through the current, waiting to feel that tell-tale tug on the line, and wondering if Thoreau had once stood in this same place, doing this same action--no doubt with more success both in catching fish and philosophizing about it, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

I'd love to have a private chef--but only if s/he would let me play apprentice sous-chef from time to time so that I could up my skills to pro level. That might mean s/he'd eventually work his/her way out of a job, though ...

Dude! Your GC is, like, on surfer time? Say no more! (sez New Yorker transplant to SoCal, who has mellowed out considerably but is still getting used to it ... and to keep this semi-on-topic, I've similarly adjusted my expectations of the service when dining at places immersed in that surfer mentality... )

Shalmanese, what's the seasoning on this dish taste like? I'm guessing mild, from the light color of the sauce, but just checking ... P.S. It sounds yummy in any case.

My understanding is that char siu bao are doughy buns stuffed with Chinese barbeque-flavored roasted pork (char siu), usually with no soup involved; whereas xiao long bao are dumplings made with flat dough wrappers wrapped around a filling of meat and gelatinized broth. Char siu bao Xiao long bao The trick with the soup is that the (cold) gelatinized broth liquefies when the xiao long bao are steamed, producing the mouthful of soup that gushes into one's mouth when one eats these. (The other trick, according to mmm-yoso, is getting the amount of gelatin and meat filling, and the seal on the wrapping, just right so that the dumplings don't leak or burst while being cooked.)

FWIW, the Diet Pepsi Jazz is also widely available here in San Diego. The caramel flavor is okay, but I confess to an unholy fondness for the cherry-vanilla and strawberries-and-cream flavors. Then again, as someone who has been drinking diet sodas since early childhood, I also confess to a really warped palate with regards to these beverages. I also adore Diet Dr. Pepper, and the diet cherry colas (both Pepsi's and Coke's version). Something about that mix of fruit/caramel/cream/cola/god knows what-all else ... all artificial flavors, too, but they mask the artificial sweetener pretty effectively. I tend to refer to all these soft drinks collectively as "diet brown stuff." Yeah, I know it sounds pathetic. Told you my palate was warped (and probably my brain too). FFB, I'd be more than happy to take that Pepsi Jazz off your hands if you could figure out a cheap way to ship it to me.

Awwwwwwww! As I type this, my household's orange kitty is lolling about on top of my computer monitor--isn't he lucky I didn't spring for the flat-screen model! If only cats had opposeable thumbs, I'd be lining up to reincarnate as one--they have The Life, don't they? My fellow San Diegan and passionate blogger about little Asian hole-in-the-wall restaurants, mmm-yoso, has a special thing for those soup-filled dumplings, which are called xiao long bao. Here's an entry from his blog in which he demonstrates making them from scratch. If you search his blog, you'll find several other entries about SoCal restaurants that specialize in these dumplings.

My blood pressure was rising on your behalf as I read about your run-in with the fridge repair flakes. That kind of "service" really makes me want to scream and throw things! Cool about the rice cooking method. I learned a similar routine, only done in a pressure cooker, for doing brown rice. Can you say a little more about the curry paste you used?

Happy blogging, Jennifer! Looking forward to adventures both in your new kitchen and out and about in San Francisco. Yeah, aren't 99 Ranch stores da bomb? I too love just wandering around, looking at stuff, poring over labels, pondering species of fish unfamiliar to me, plotting in my brain various ways I could use the stuff I see there. And yeah, while I adore Trader Joe's for some things, I don't depend on them for produce--mainly because I find their stuff tends to be a little overpriced for what it is; plus I find their habit of prepackaging produce rather annoying, not only because it prevents me examining the goods but also because the packages are usually in quantities too large for a single person cooking for herself alone.

Fresser, I totally identify with your tale. If someone had told me two years ago that I'd be chomping my way happily through celery hearts of my own volition, I too would have told 'em they were meshugah. Even as I upped my veggie intake, I thought celery would be the last holdout on my bad-old-diet-nightmare list. But I come to discover celery is quite yummy--IF you only munch on the hearts, and leave the big ol' lumber-like outer stalks for stock-making. Or for your neighborhood rabbit. In the bad-old-diet-nightmare days, I'd dutifully attempt to chow down on those outer stalks, which are about as much fun to eat as green-tinted styrofoam. No wonder I thought I loathed raw celery! Mind you, I ate veggies willingly throughout my childhood. But in nowhere near the quantities I do now. As for oatmeal, I tend to make savory porridge out of it too. In fact, I make it congee-style, using broth rather than water, and a lot more of the liquid than for standard cooked oatmeal; I also simmer it on low for at least an hour, so I wind up with a thick congee-like broth, which I then season just like congee (i.e. soy sauce, sesame oil, or a cube of fermented bean curd, or etc.).

How about making savory matzoh "chips", coated with various seasonings and then fried/baked to a crisp. You could have a lot of fun with different flavors, like the gourmet potato chip makers do. Hey, bagel chips and pita chips have done well, why not with matzoh? Those various layered casserole ideas sound fabulous too.

Ahah! Another point of connection between Jewish and Chinese culture! Jewish mothers also excell at one moment going "Eat! I've slaved all day over a hot stove!" and the next "So when are you going to do something about your weight?" Though Jewish mothers won't be tempting one off one's diet with pig's feet... (So I have to do that kind of tempting myself ... ) Cool tip about using the broken rice to make jook. I've seen broken rice in my local Asian grocery stores--I'll make a point of it to buy a bag next shopping trip. I know we talked about brands of fu yu awhile back, but since then I've had an opportunity to try that brand with the picture of the mature woman on it (I think someone said the brand translated as "Honorable Elderly Woman" or something like that) and it was fantastic, the best fu yu I've yet tasted. Reading the ingredients list, I noticed part of the secret was MSG ... but I've pretty well lost my silly gweipo fear of MSG by now.

I love serving (and eating!) ratatouille at room temperature. And then there are all the banchan I was grooving on during my recent foodblog. They're meant to be served at room temp too.

Cool! This is exactly the kind of stuff I was hoping to find out. Taking notes ... (I think my sister did mention taking the kids to Discovery Place--one's four, the other's eight, so it sounds like just the thing for 'em ... plus their auntie here is a big ol' kid at heart and would probably groove on it too. )

Howdy, folks--I'll be visiting my sister in Concord NC in the latter part of April (specifically, I'll be flying into Charlotte April 25 and heading back May 1), and I'll have a rental car at my disposal for prowling around, especially during those times when I'll be on my own while my sister is working and her kids are busy with school. I've read through this topic and a few others I found from searching on Charlotte; unless I goofed the search up somehow, I found nothing on Concord. What I'm especially looking for are places that specialize in local regional cooking and/or uniquely "local flavor" establishments I'm highly unlikely to find back in San Diego--and I don't mind doing a little driving to get to such places. I've read up on North Carolina styles of barbeque, and am definitely interested in trying some; I'd also love to get some good soul food, which I haven't had in years. Personally, I'm rather less interested in upscale dining at upscale prices, but you never know ...

Interesting! I have seen a somewhat similar seaweed product here in the local Chinese supermarket (99 Ranch). It was, as you say, like a big "pancake" of seaweed, about 10 inches in diameter, and not very thick, maybe a little under a half inch, made of lots of thin ribbons of a slightly shiny black seaweed stuck together. From the looks of it, I was guessing it was made of what the Japanese call nori ... but it was only a guess. Does this sound familiar? I would love to know what to do with it ... the one time I tried to use it, I obviously must have way overcooked it because it did fall apart and get unpleasantly slimy.

I too think this is a fabulous party idea. Alas I'm no longer in Seattle and thus no good for references to specific trucks. But as to how to go about arranging this: if it were me, I'd simply strike up a friendship with the owners of a taco truck whose food you like--preferably by buying and eating a bunch of their product -- and then asking them if they cater parties. I get the impression that catering for block parties and similar festivities is a familiar thing for this kind of rolling business, so they'll know how to take it from there.

I'm wondering if what you were served was not flank or skirt steak at all, but another cut of meat we call top round. The reason I'm thinking this is that the preparation and serving method you describe is typical of one of the many variants of London Broil that are popular here in the States. London Broil does tend to generate all sorts of confusion about what meat cut is involved, because originally the term "London Broil" described a method of cooking rather than a specific cut, and at one time the preferred cut to use was in fact what we in the States call a flank steak ... but then butchers started applying the label "London Broil" to a bunch of cuts of meat that did not even remotely resemble flank steak--most commonly, what we call top round steak (or sometimes, even more confusingly, top round roast), a cut that runs from one to two inches thick and which, while flavorful, can turn tough on you. That makes it a great candidate for the London Broil method, which usually involves marinating it, grilling/broiling it till still quite rare in the middle, and then slicing it across the grain into sorta-thinnish slices. Right now I don't have a chunk of "London Broil"--ready top round to show you, but this recipe comes with photos that pretty clearly show the kind of meat cut I'm talking about (also note that, instead of a marinade, this recipe involves rubbed-in spices like the dish you were served). Anyway--do the photos in that recipe match the cut of meat you remember being served? Am I even warm, here?

I too am thinking that the soup you mean is bun bo Hue, which traditionally is garnished with a few cubes of congealed pork blood. Alas, I have no idea how they prepare the blood. Maybe they just let it stand in a pan until it congeals naturally, but I'm just totally guessing here. I have seen big blocks of already-congealed pork blood available for sale in the meat departments of local Vietnamese grocery stores--perhaps many people prefer to buy it already prepared that way, and then chop it into cubes for the soup? Again, just guessing ... Here's a photo of some bun bo Hue, with a couple of cubes of pork blood showing, from my last foodblog: And here is a recipe I found out on the web for a pretty authentic-looking bun bo Hue with pork blood--click here--note it assumes you've bought the pork blood already congealed, and then instructs you to cook it separately from the rest of the soup and add it in at the end.