nakji

Hear hear! A lot of times I view tea as a means to fuel me through work, where volume is more important than quality. It's worth remembering that a fine cup of tea (or coffee, for that matter) provides an opportunity for a mental refreshment as well. Stepping away from my desk and taking a minute to brew and enjoy a decent cup allows me to not only appreciate the quality of the tea, but the ritual of making the tea itself provides a respite from other tasks. If I can do it reasonably well, to turn out a reliably good cup of tea and to find five minutes to myself, then I think the effort is well-spent.

Lots of fabulous suggestions! Of course - I'll try it stir-fried with some vegetables, but I'm also curious about cooking it with rice. Duck liver sausage is available, as the Wal-mart in question is a brand new one in Suzhou, Jiangsu province, where I'm currently living. It's quiteexcellent, but I concur with the exhaustion. When I get home I feel like I've run a marathon. Yes! yesyesyesyes! My husband came home with some fresh, hand-made noodles, and I had no idea what to do with them, nor appropriate means to deal with them, so I had to bin them. I felt like an utter failure. As for the "glutinous" rice, are we talking the kind of rice that's usually used to make rice cake/mochi? The kind that's more of an opaque white colour than typical rice? Then, would I saute the meat and add it to already cooked rice, or can I cook it in with the rice as it cooks, like a Japanese-style takigomi-gohan?

Ms. Tropp suggests this step be repeated two or three more times, with the pan cooling between onslaughts of oil. I repeated the rubbing until I got a good colour on the bottom of the pan, and oil began to bead up and run down in rivulets along the side. You can also see how it seems to have a small shiny area on the bottom. As I use it to cook, I hope the dark shiny area will build. After two week's use, I'm already getting a nice colour there, and food is sliding around nicely on the bottom of the pan. I shall never use soap on it, and I'm emptying it out immediately after use, but Barbara is very anti-wok brush. I'm wondering, though, if I use the wok everyday, with it stand up to some light abrasive, like a bamboo brush?

I bought my first wok a couple of weeks ago from a supermarket here in China. It's 32 cm, and flat-bottomed. I didn't see any round-bottomed woks available for purchase. Actually, when I bought it, I joined a rather large group of confused looking locals surveying the racks - it seems the main qualification for purchase was the ability of the shopper to heft and brandish the wok appropriately. At one point, an older man got so animated with his pan that he brought down an entire row of woks upon himself - it was fun to watch all the shop attendants come running to rescue him from the pile. It must be a thorny choice for people, because as I was making my way through the store with my wok in the basket, my friend and I were stopped by another woman who asked us how we'd managed to pick one out - she confessed there were too many models for her to choose from. The shop attendants were keen to push non-stick woks on us, but I wanted one to season myself, following Barbara Tropp's thorough method listed in her "Modern Chinese Cooking", which I will chronicle in photos here. First; the wok. I think it's carbon steel, but who knows. Ms. Tropp is very specific that it gets a good scrubbing, but minutes of furious scrubbing yielded me a pan no different than before the steel wool touched it. I assume she was dealing with dirtier pans in her day. Still, she doesn't strike me as the sort of person whose steps should be skipped. So; I scrubbed. Then, onto the gas ring on a high heat, until the pan sizzled water. I had a dish of peanut oil, tongs, and a cloth to help. She suggests paper towel, but I couldn't find any. When the pan was hot enough to sizzle water, I began to rub in the peanut oil with the cloth, until the pan began to smoke and turn dark on the bottom. Not for those faint of heart or exhaust. Fortunately, Chinese home kitchens seem to be well ventilated.

The sick thing is - it was a Wal-mart. Anyway, if it's lop yuk, I'll look that up in my small Chinese cookbook library, and see what else I can make with it. Steamed into rice might make my husband more inclined to eat rice, actually.

Consider my mind blown. I've been living in Asia for seven years now, starting in South Korea, then on to Vietnam and most recently, Japan. I've been in the great live fish market in Seoul and wandered through the ginseng bottles and kimchi tubs in Namdaemun market. I watched in on my street in Hanoi as every day at four o'clock a whole pig was gutted and butchered for the dinner rush. I've shopped in the great food halls of Tokyo's department stores. I had thought, rather, that I'd seen it all. Today, however, at my local Wal-mart, I ground my cart to a halt and admitted defeat to my husband. Fully 50 percent of the products in the shop I had no idea what to do with. The only products I recognized and knew how to deal with were the Korean chili pastes and sauces(add to stews), the durian and dragonfruits in the produce (peel; enjoy), and the three bottles of Yellowtail (pour directly down the drain)in the wine section. Oh, and the tea. I recognized the tea, but there were at least thirty kinds of bulk tea. My husband's faith in my ability to cook anywhere is shaken to the core. I need help. As a companion to our great Chinese cooking ingredient pictorial topic, could I humbly ask advice on items I have purchased here? Just walking through the aisles, I could pick out amazing-looking ingredients. Whole aisles full of dried mushrooms and...other things. Little red bitty things. Big brown knobbly things. Eight varieties of duck pieces. Whole smoked duck. Whole salted duck. Whole smoked chickens. Whole salted chickens. Salted pork. Never mind the aisle upon aisle of jars. In the sausage cart, there was dried sausage (five kinds) and something that looked like an Iberico ham. I want to make something with that. I couldn't say what, so I didn't buy it. I did cave and buy this: It's smoked pork belly, right? I can only make out the characters for "meat" and "product". I'm thinking I can cube it for fried rice. What else can I do with it....?

How timely! I'll be in Shanghai over the full moon festival the first week of October, and I'm looking for a xiao long bao place recommendation - as well as any other must-eats. I was in Shanghai for a work seminar two weekends ago, but only ate at my hotel and, uh, MacDonalds. Actually, I had a Starbucks, too. I'm looking for traditional Shanghai-style dishes (that is to say, no French or German fusion), no hotel restaurants, location isn't important, in the 100-200 RMB a person neighbourhood for dinner, less than 100 RMB for lunch -type places.

How do you find the pasta tossed with pesto? I always want to like it, but I just never enjoy cold pasta. Also - if you're going to make rice balls, don't forget to cool the rice down a tiny bit, put some water and a little salt on your hands - the water will keep the rice from sticking and help you mold it, and the salt will make the rice taste better.

Slate says that it's not meant for and that And implies that her beouf bourguinon recipe has perhaps more steps than are entirely necessary. Is it worth learning to do things "Julia's Way"?

I can't see how big the rice molds are, but they should work fairly well just by packing them with warm short-grain rice. If you want, you can mix a little furikake in, or even some black sesame seeds for a visual contrast. If you're using freshly cooked rice in the morning, just pack it in - if you're using left-over rice from dinner, make sure you've heated it through in the microwave, pack it in the mold, then knock it into the bento, using a silicone divider if PJ likes his rice separate from other bits. The rice shouldn't stick too much to the mold.

I made japchae just this weekend and used the correct, Korean-style noodle. I had success with the method described on the packet, which called for soaking the noodles for eight minutes in about a litre of boiled water. Worked a treat, and they weren't overcooked. My Korean friend also swears by a little soy sauce in the cooking water.

A note on the rice balls - refrigerated rice balls can get pretty hard and unpalatable. They might survive refrigeration better if you use sushi or seasoned rice. Or, as you can see above, Torakris has packed hers, probably while the rice was still a little warm, by wrapping them in plastic wrap. The moisture seems to help keep the rice from getting too hard. I made my first bento in four months today - the first day of school! Mine was red curry, rice, and pickles packed into a thermal set.

In my experience, leftover gravy is as rare as leftover shepherd's pie - but I'll hold some gravy back for just this purpose next time. So true! We never had any leftover lamb, so my family has always used beef mince and called it shepherd's pie anyway. Maybe it's a Canadian thing.

Thanks, Marlene - your recipe is pretty close to the method I used yesterday to make mine. I think my next pass at this dish I'll use leftovers from a roast and (ideally leftover) gravy, to see if I can get a more satisfying flavour from the base layer.

Speaking of Hodge Podge... I was in the Annapolis Valley the other day, and stopped in at Hennigar's Farmstand in Wolfville. They had all sorts of new vegetables in, and a recipe posted for making Hodge Podge, so I thought I'd give it a try. Basically, the recipe is meant to use a variety of vegetables fresh from the garden. It makes sense in Nova Scotia, where you can't always count on having a huge bounty out of your garden all at once, to try to make use of small amounts of different vegetables. It's hardly a recipe at all - just a pot f boiling water, to which you add potatoes, then carrots, then beans, then peas, in declining cooking order. When the peas are right and ready, drain the lot,and add generous amounts of cream, butter, salt and pepper. How can you go wrong? I've heard some tales that suggest this dish is part of the origin of pasta primavera, although Wikipedia suggests differently. Does anyone else recall hearing about this?

Usually once or twice a year, I get a craving for Shepherd's Pie. In my house, it was always made with minced beef, grated cheese and paprika on top of the potatoes, and soy sauce to flavour the beef, sacrilege all. Maybe. There hardly seems to be consensus. I made this once in a hostel kitchen in New Zealand, I had gotten such a sudden and burning craving for it, before I knew what was on me I was in the local supermarket, pricing mince. Despite the locality, no one gave me a hard time for using beef over lamb, although I did shock and awe another hostel guest, a chef from Israel who watched me for twenty minutes in the kitchen before coming over and demanding to know what I was making. When I explained the dish, he claimed never to have heard of it. I made it again tonight, using the rather sparsely-equipped kitchen of my in-laws- not being cooks, they don't have so much as a spice rack. I was frustrated in the attempt to create a rich and satisfying base layer for the meat; however, I can't blame the kitchen fully - is it possible to get a good meaty flavoured base, with a thickish gravy holding the meat together; using only mince and the broth it creates itself after adding a bit of water and wine; and some sort of thickening agent? Or is it necessary to cheat it and add Bovril or other stock powders, as I did tonight, using a lone Knorr chicken cube found at the back of the cupboard? And if this is the case, is the problem then using mince itself - for a satisfying pie, wouldn't it be better to start with a good leftover roast as in original versions, and give mince up as bland and unsatisfactory? We goosed tonight's pie up with lots of ketchup, and it was a hit, but I feel I can do better.

I always feel compelled to follow a recipe exactly to the letter the first time I make it, even if I want to do it another way, or substitute another ingredient. Especially if it's a cookbook from an author I trust, although now that I've written that sentence, I can't imagine why I'm following recipes from authors I don't trust. Huh. At any rate, I always assume they know something I don't, but that's probably because I still think of myself as a beginner in the kitchen.

I have eaten in Hue and hold one of the meals I had there as one of the top meals I've had in my life. I know that Hue is famous for Bun Bo Hue and Imperial court cuisine. Are banh beo the sort of dish you can buy on the street in Hue, or are they more of a home-cooking style dish?

When I read the article, the thought that came to my mind was, "There are pockets of resistance". I'm in one right now. Some people will always be interested in cooking. I deplore the idea of cooking as a hobby, because, as David rightfully points out, I don't plan on outsourcing showering or brushing my teeth or getting dressed any time soon. There are other people who think like me, and as long as we keep it going, keep buying unprepared food to prepare ourselves from people who grow or produce food for people like us, then cooking won't die. However, I feel like I have to be a bit evangelical about it. I was standing at the Halifax farmers market the other day, a once a week affair that attracts a lot of the yoga-reiki-willow-basket-carrying set, waiting to buy some vegetables, when a man and his wife came up to the table I was at. It looked like their first visit to the market - they stuck out with their lack of eco bags and with their (non-fair trade) Tim Horton's coffees in hand. The table in front of us was full of pint after pint of pattypan squash. The man looked down in amazement, looked at me and asked, "What are those?" I told him, and he asked, "What do you do with them?" "Cut them in two. Brush them with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and grill them." His wife lit up, and said,"We saw those on the food network - with the lady? She stuffed them!" I nodded. "Or you could stuff them." Someone further down the table leaned in and said, "I like to chop them up in a soup." And so it went. Seized with excitement, he bought two pints, and a pint of heirloom eggplants, because he liked the stripes. Living in other countries, I often meet other foreigners who feel intimidated by cooking dishes from locally available ingredients, and find themselves living off of things available from the 7-11 or similar. In those cases, I always invite them over for dinner, ask them to come early, and show them one or two simple recipes to make. I don't convert everyone, but some people get it, and go on to feed themselves. I consider that a victory against the Balzers of the world.

Your chapchae looks delicious and entirely edible. You probably already know this, but it's their loss, and at least you have your lunches for a few days. Often it's a matter of misjudging the crowd, but if your friends have known you that long...well, it's kind of strange. I don't get to a lot of potlucks myself, but my mother made chapchae and brought it to a work potluck, where only an intrepid few of her co-workers tried it. I thought, "how can you go wrong with noodles? Everyone loves noodles." But there it is. They'd never heard of it before, so they assumed they wouldn't like it.

I always like shredded daikon in my galbi ssam. Take half a nice-sized daikon, peel and cut into matchsticks, then salt for about 10-15 minutes. Briefly rinse and squeeze out as much water as you can, then dress with 2 tablespoons each sugar and rice vinegar, and one tablespoon each sesame oil, roasted sesame seeds, and gochugaru. Or, skip the oil, sesame seeds and gochugaru, and add wasabi to taste. They really jazz up a ssam.

There's a reasonably decent Korean restaurant in the spur corridor across from the Subway. The bibimbap is always a safe option.

I prefers my slaws vinegary. My husband prefers them creamy, which means a lot of conflict in our house. I usually serve a creamy slaw if pork is on the menu, and serve a vinegary one if I'm making burgers, or taking the slaw to a picnic or similar. My favourite shredded salad comes from Vietnam - Ga Xe Phay. There are lots of recipes out there for this, but I've developed one to my own taste. I shred about half a cabbage and a large-ish carrot, and toss them together with a handful each of julienned mint and cilantro leaves. Then I shred a cooked chicken breast - I sometimes poach one specifically for this, but it's also a good use for any chicken you have left over from the previous night's grilling. I toss the shredded vegetables and chicken together with about a third cup of ground peanuts. If I have them on hand, I also add two red chilis, which have been seeded, then minced. To dress it, I mix together the juice of three limes, two to three crushed garlic cloves (to taste, really), a tablespoon or so each of rice vinegar and fish sauce. Some people like as much as three tablespoons of fish sauce, but I like a light hand with it, myself. Then I add sugar to taste again - somewhere around a 1/4 cup, but going up to a 1/3 cup if the limes are particularly sour. Basically, I'm trying to balance the salty-sweet-sour flavours until I'm happy. I finally add vegetable oil in the same volume as the other ingredients, whisk until it's mixed, and toss the lot together and let the whole thing gel in the fridge for an hour or so before eating. If I take this to a party, I always bring a copy of the recipe with me, since I can never escape without someone demanding it. Serve it with a baguette, and you have a whole meal.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's amazing how well they go together, and how rich the dish tastes for how simple it is to make. I make this one for everyone who says they don't like tofu. The key, however, is as I said: using really good tofu and really good tomatoes.

Welcome to Cook-off 48: Slaws! Our complete Cook-off Index is here. Summer usually means that we've dusted off our salad bowls; we've been debating pillowcases versus OXO over in the salad spinner topic. Some of us are already making plans for this year's tomato crop. But if you're sick of lettuce, and your tomatoes are still green on the vine, it might be time to get out your mandoline and start shredding. Our slaw Cook-off embraces a whole range of shredded salads. Everyone loves coleslaw - although opinions differ on whether a creamy dressing or a vinegar dressing is superior. You can have it out here, or make your case for both. Maybe you add nuts, apples, or broccoli. Maybe you only adhere to the spirit of slaw, and make yours with green papaya and chili, like they do in Thailand. Whichever way you slice or dress it, come join us in shredding your salad.