nakji

Maryland Chicken was the first dish I ever cooked, when I was I think 9. I don't know what recipe I used, but I remember liking the results and being complimented by my parents, who I doubt would have told me they liked it if they didn't. Chicken Maryland sounds fascinating - the chicken is pan fried instead of deep fried? And sometimes comes with hush puppies? Does anyone have a recipe or methodology they'd care to share?

Ha! No, I meant the sound of a blender running for ten minutes. Although the chickpeas do make a nice soft squicking sound, followed by a ping as they hit the bowl when I peel them. Not really annoying, though.

Yes, ten minutes seems crazy - I couldn't stand the sound for that long. Peeling chickpeas always takes me a crazy long time, but I usually do it while watching TV, too. Do you think you'll bother peeling them again?

I'm assuming that anyone cooking with supermarket ground pork is going to cook through to 70 C/160 F in the middle - but if grinding your own, is anyone going rarer? And would there be an advantage to going rare with pork like there is for beef? I had rare Kurobuta tenderloin several times in Japan and the flavour was excellent. Would it translate to a burger?

So, did you peel those two 15-ounce cans of chickpeas by hand? You're a hero. Or, do you have an easier method for peeling them? I think using the chickpea water is great if you want a lighter-textured product than one with a lot of tahini or olive oil. I usually use 2 tbsp. of tahini for one can of peas - next time I'll dial it back and add more water instead. Do you find the water separates out though if you keep it in the fridge? Or does it not last that long?

Thanks Margo. It's true, China is one of the nicest countries for food travel I've ever been. So the next morning we got up early so we could see a little more before heading back to Suzhou. Since the tolls on the highway are still quite expensive for the average person, we knew there'd be little to no traffic on the highway - stunning in this country of a billion people. We knew we could make it back in three or four hour's of straight driving, so we wanted to cram in a visit to Huang Shan city, where our friend is living as the private tutor for the daughter of a local development magnate. First, though, we had to have breakfast. Fortunately, there were a couple of noodle and dumpling shops set up on the main street. They were stuffed with cabbage, yellow-bean and chili paste, and a teeny bit of the local wind-dried ham fat, I think. Incredible. I could have eaten ten, but then I'm a sucker for dumplings. Coffee was not going to happen, but a good cup of tea is never far away, so we stopped in at a tea house for a caffeine hit. More sunflower seeds resulted, and my friend took a few minutes to tutor us in the fine art of eating sunflowers seeds using only one hand and your teeth. The teahouse was situated next to the river to take advantage of the shade and cool. Terrifying bathrooms; excellent local tea.

I tried to root cilantro in water with the hopes of growing it myself when I lived in Japan. It was hard to find there, and expensive when I did find it. It seems a lot of people in Japan feel the same way about the herb. I think I asked around and someone told me it's a very hard plant to grow, and my roots just withered in the water. In Cambodia, we had a great stuffed banana leaf, where the stuffing was cilantro root, garlic and kampot peppercorns crushed and mixed into minced pork. Curiously enough, I was one of those people who hated the taste of cilantro the first time I tried it, but I kept eating it until I got over it. I think the Chinese also call it a "stinky herb", and it's quite commonly available here, used in beef and lamb dishes.

We ended up staying the night in another village, Wang Kou. We stopped in at a pension and made arrangements with the owner for a couple of rooms and dinner at 7pm. We had a brief wander around the old town, which was beginning to close up for the evening. Then we opted for showers over more old carvings, and went back to the hotel. I negotiated briefly with the owner to convince him to put some beer in the cooler for us, as it's usually, like all other beverages in China, room temperature. Success, although I did get a strange look. When we came down to dinner, I realized once again that I'd have to really start cramming characters, because I still couldn't read the menu beyond "beef", "chicken", "fish" and so on. Fortunately the menu was really only pro forma, like the owner had seen one once in another restaurant somewhere and thought his pension ought to have one too. When I pointed out several dishes randomly, they turned out to be "mei you" - unavailable. Which was fine, as I'd had no idea what they were anyway. Might have dodged a bullet? We chatted in a limited fashion for a few minutes and it was agreed that we would eat what everyone else was having, which was: rou, cai, mi fan. Meat, vegetables, and rice. Why try to get creative? Fresh bamboo shoots with local wind-dried ham: Greens: More mystery-herb pork belly. Better than the previous night's - much less oily. After that, we went up to the fourth floor balcony over the street, and watched the town wander around and enjoy their holiday. We ate a sleeve of Oreos for dessert and I finished off the cold beer, since I didn't want to leave the owner with unsaleable bottles.

I bought some pre-ground pork shoulder at the supermarket, and I'm going to try these out on the grill this weekend if it stops raining. I want to go "banh mi" burger style, with some daikon/carrot pickle, sliced red onion, mayo (in place of Laughing Cow cheese), and some shiso/mint/cilantro mix.

Ah, so it's like a gateway drug for cooks...sell them on the usefulness of individual spices, give them a recipe card, and hope they'll buy the whole bottle of paprika next time?

Oh, a nice bowl of pho! That's painful to see. Every detail is right, down to the stolen "Laughing Cow" logo on the bowl's rim. Was that in Toronto? I'll be there in July, and I'd love to have a good bowl of pho before going back to Halifax.

I guess it'd be useful if you didn't want to buy lots of little packs or bottles of herbs...but still.

I wonder why they bother to separate the spices out like that? It seems a traditional spice packet with the spices mixed would be be just as good.

It's true, you never get the sense she feels ambivalent about an ingredient or a procedure. If you do decide to cook through it, lay in a goodly supply of olive oil. You'll need it.

From Marcella Hazan, The Essentials of Classic of Italian Cooking: Pasta, peas, bacon and ricotta: Actually, a really good book for dealing with random CSA assignments.

That sounds...excellent. I'm wondering...would it be crazy to grind up bacon to add to ground pork, if one wasn't able to smoke one's own pork fat?

I need a cookbook holder, and I too will probably have to source one on-line, or jury rig it from something else. Any recommendations?

I've been eying one for a while. This might be the book that pushes me over the edge - as long as I can find a space for the stand in my kitchen!

Japanese hambaagu is a triumph, agreed. I always bought 50/50 mix in Japan even for making regular grilling burgers. I could see adapting a tsukune recipe into chicken burgers with Kewpie mayonnaise and...what, ginger cucumbers or similar for crunch? This may be true of supermarket pork in North America, but I find Asian pork has a lot of flavour, even standing on its own without herbs. Perhaps because it's not such a lean meat here? How do you garnish them? Straight up like regular burgers, or with some twist?

Just a rubber spatula. Any remaining film of hummus is the chef's privilege, to be removed with fingers (carefully) or heels of bread. I'm not sure that a blender is necessarily smoother than a food processor, though - is it?

Mark Bittman's column today in the New York Times Dining and Wine section is on alternatives to burgers made with supermarket ground beef. We've had discussions on this idea before - our lamb burger topic; our turkey burger topic; our veggie burger topic. We've of course discussed the superiority of grinding your own beef. But what about pork burgers? I really enjoyed eating bun cha in Vietnam - basically small burgers of pork grilled on an open grill with a fan, then dunked in a sour broth with rice noodles and herbs. I'd love to adapt that to a full burger size, served on a bun, with banh mi pickles and herb garnish. Does anyone else make pork burgers?

Discussion of the book itself over here. I bought this book the other day after circling it at my local bookstore for the last six months. At first I assumed it was more a "coffee table" style cookbook meant to be looked at and not cooked from, but discussion in the book topic inspired me to flip through it. I found a few recipes that looked interesting, so I decided to give it a go. Unfortunately, my husband had a flip through all of the gorgeous pictures, and started making noises again about taking motorcycle trip through Northern Vietnam and Laos, as he's been threatening to do with his friends the last couple of years. If it gets off the ground, I guess I'll have to take a recipe notebook with me this time. There's a basil chicken I had in Luang Prabang that still haunts me, and I kick myself once a month for not barging into the kitchen and watching it get made. The first recipe I tried was based on Snadra's recommendation of the fresh corn and chili stir-fry. `I got the corn and chilis from the market without looking at the recipe (as I ever do) and missed out completely that it called for pork. So I displayed adaptability and used a bit of Hunan smoked pork I keep around for just such idiocy, thus "Sinicizing" the dish somewhat. Nevertheless, it was excellent. Only later did I read the accompanying notes and realize it was a Hmong dish. In fact, so many of the pictures of Yunnan province remind me of Northern Vietnam (for obvious reasons) that it's making me want to get on a plane. The other dish I made was the Dai Grilled chicken - a real hit. My husband loves Sichuan peppercorns, but I usually hate them. This recipe called for grinding them up, however, which I found a lot less intrusive than I normally do. Actually, the smell of the garlic paste that went on the chicken before grilling was heaven. I only had skinless chicken thighs - next time I'll use ones with skin to keep it more moist. My only complaint about the book so far is the size of it. Although it's about cooking in Asian kitchen, it's hardly meant for actually using in an Asian kitchen - there's not a flat surface big enough in mine to lay it open on. I'll have to copy out the recipes I like best and leave the book on my coffee table.

Allspice! Hmm. Interesting. I asked my friend who supplied me the tahini what he did to make his hummus so light and smooth, and he said he liked to put it in the blender, walk away for ten minutes or so, and then come back. I only blend mine for around a minute. How long does everyone blend for?

Guilty confession: right now I am craving, craving a Costco hot dog, piled high with onions and mustard, and a smear of neon green relish on top. Recently, in two separate novels, I've read a hot dog referred to as a "sandwich". Is a hot dog a sandwich?

Hmm, that's a good question. I assumed that I would just strain the stock, then continue to boil it down until it had reduced. I'm not sure that's the best method, though.