Tag Archives: Asian

Fried Rice Seasoned With Gochujang & Miso

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My heart sank when I realized I had no soy sauce.  I had just chopped a mound of vegetables and de-frosted meat, only to discover an empty soy sauce bottle in my fridge.

With two takeout boxes of leftover steamed rice and a half hour of prep work done, there was no way I was not going to make fried rice.  I reached further into my fridge and pulled out a jar of Korean gouchujang and my trusty tub of year-old miso paste.

Then I proceeded like normal.  I stir fried my vegetables with a little Chinese sausage, chicken breast, and leftover rice.  Then, I flavored the fried rice with a mix of gochujang and miso paste, diluted with water for easier incorporation.  I found Chinese sausage at the Asian & American Market in Fargo.  It provided a subtle sweetness that balanced the miso’s saltiness and gochujang’s heat.

We were satisfied with the result.  So much so, that we polished off the skillet of fried rice.  If you just own a regular kitchen skillet, you probably won’t get any smokey char, but your fried rice will still be a respectable home variation.

My method of cooking fried rice is not an exact science.  Once I choose my vegetables and proteins, it’s basically a process of sautéing and tasting.  You could use soy sauce instead of miso and add additional seasonings like hot peppers and ginger.

Mantra: Homemade fried rice is easy.  Homemade fried rice is an efficient way to use up leftover meat and veggies.  Homemade fried rice puts extra takeout rice to work.

Ingredients
Vegetable oil
Chinese sausage, finely diced
Chopped vegetables (I used lots of onion, green onions, swiss chard stems and greens, and carrots)
Proteins of choice and/or scrambled egg
Leftover rice
1 clove of minced garlic
Miso paste and gochujang, diluted with some water
White pepper
Cracked black pepper

Directions
In a dab of vegetable oil, begin sauteing the Chinese sausage.  When it renders a bit, add the vegetables and stir until softened but al dente.  I add the vegetables that take longer to cook first, such as carrot and onion.  Then, I add the softer vegetables like chard leaves, green onion, and garlic.

As the vegetables are cooking, prepare any additional protein or scrambled egg in a separate pan.  Add a little more oil to the vegetables and then stir in the rice.  As the rice is cooking, flavor with diluted miso paste and gochujang, black pepper, and white pepper.

Add the scrambled egg and/or other cooked meat and combine.  Taste and adjust for seasoning (I used a lot of miso and gochujang).

Cook to your liking.  I prefer my fried rice to develop some crusty bits.

Not Chicken Teriyaki Boy’s Glazed Beef Patties and Chicken Thighs

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When I hear the word “teriyaki,” I think of Larry David’s Chicken Teriyaki Boy or that goopy, cloyingly sweet sauce also known as teriyaki.

My experiences with teriyaki sauces have been limited to that awful stuff that often slimes airplane chicken meals or sad stir fries.

However, my view of teriyaki changed as I flipped through Harumi’s Japanese Home Cooking and Harumi’s Japanese Cooking, written by Harumi Kurihara.  Although I borrowed these books from the library months ago, they inspired me by making Japanese cooking approachable and accessible.  I drooled over Harumi’s recipe for petite beef patties that glistened with a simple teriyaki sauce made from mostly soy sauce and mirin.

Instead of incorporating bread crumbs into my ground beef, I used ground, instant oats.  This resulted in meat patties that reminded me of baked, Lebanese kibbe.

I have glazed turkey burgers with reduced soy and mirin with delicious results.  This was no exception. I created this recipe as I cooked so my best advice is to taste as you go, following the recipe as basic guidelines.  Since I cooked with small quantities of meat, double the recipes as needed.

Ingredients:
2 chicken thighs trimmed of excess fat (I used bone-in, but boneless would be fine)
1/2 onion, sliced
1/2 pound ground beef (or turkey)
Oil or butter
1/2 onion, minced
3 button mushrooms, minced
Salt
Pepper
1/2 teaspoon ginger, freshly grated
1 small garlic clove, grated
1 egg
Wocestershire sauce, 2 dashes
1 small squirt of ketchup
1/2-3/4 cup instant oats, pulverized in a blender of food processor

Teriyaki Glaze
Soy sauce
Mirin
Sugar
Grated ginger
Spritz of fresh lemon juice
Optional: Cayenne or other hot pepper

Directions:

To prepare the teriyaki sauce
In a small saucepan, reduce equal parts of soy sauce and mirin.  Add a little grated ginger.  Gradually add more sugar until the sauce is not too salty.  Gently reduce until the sauce is glossy and coats the back of a spoon.

If the sauce seems to salty, add more mirin, sugar, or water.  If it seems to sweet, add more soy sauce.  Spritz in some fresh lemon juice for brightness.

To prepare the chicken
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Preheat a skillet with oil to medium-high.

Rinse the chicken thighs and pat dry.  Trim off the extra skin.

Season the skin-side of the chicken with salt and pepper and place in the preheated pan, skin-side down.  Let the chicken cook until the skin renders to golden brown.

Remove the chicken from the pan and place in a lightly oiled baking dish, on top of the sliced onions, skin-side up.

Bake for about an hour or until the juices run clear and the meat is no longer pink.  As the chicken cooks, baste with the teriyaki sauce and pan juices.

To prepare the beef patties
In a pan over medium heat, saute the minced onion and mushrooms, seasoning with salt and pepper.  As the vegetables cook, grate in ginger and stir.  When the vegetables are translucent and the ginger is fragrant, remove from heat.  Grate in the garlic, stir, and allow to lightly cook.

Roughly pulverize the oats in a blender or food processor.

In a bowl, incorporate the ground meat, sauteed vegetables/ginger/garlic, egg, Worcestershire sauce, ketchup, salt, and pepper.  Add the ground oats until the patties hold together.  Test the seasoning by sauteing a small amount of the meat.

Form the mixture into patties and sear over medium-high heat.  Reduce the heat and baste with the teriyaki sauce as the patties cook through.  Add a little water to the bottom of the pan, as needed so the teriyaki sauce does not scorch.  Cover the patties with a lid for faster cooking.

I served my glazed meats alongside Thai sticky rice, sauteed mushrooms, and green peas.

Thai Chili and Lime-Flecked Oriental/Asian/Mandarin/Chinese Cabbage Salad

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All of this talk about Oriental salads gave me a hankering for Oriental salad.

Actually, I’ve been craving this salad ever since I brought home my mom’s old church cookbooks.  These old cookbooks are littered with versions of Oriental/Asian/Mandarin/Chinese cabbage salads.

And I have not been craving just any type of Asian salad, but the variety with shredded cabbage and crunchy ramen noodles.  The type I have never made myself but enjoyed at family gatherings, church picnics, and office potlucks.  After a long weekend of over-indulging in Easter foods like ham, turkey, and steak, I made a batch of this comfort salad to bring for lunch as I return to work.

Thai Chili and Lime-Flecked Oriental/Asian/Mandarin/Chinese Cabbage Salad
Inspired by Donna Curry and Denise Bierle Svec’s cabbage salad recipes in the Ebeneezer Ridges Campus Cookbook, 2005

Ingredients
1 small-medium head of green cabbage, shaved and cut into manageable pieces
6 green onions, thinly sliced
7 Tablespoons of slivered almonds
6 Tablespoons of toasted sunflower seeds
2 packages of ramen noodles, broken into small pieces (I used the spicy chili variety)
Raisins, 1-2 handfuls

1/3 cup of vegetable oil
3/4 cup of vinegar such as rice wine, apple cider, or white (or a mixture)
1/3 cup of sugar (or to taste)
Juice of one fresh lime
2 Thai chilies, minced
Salt, to taste
Cracked black pepper
Optional: A dusting of the ramen noodle seasoning packet

Directions:
Mix the cabbage, green onion, almonds, sunflower seeds, and raisins.

Then, drizzle in the oil, vinegar, sugar, lime juice, chilies, salt, and pepper.  Stir to combine and taste for seasoning.  I chose to go lighter on the sugar and heavier on the tart and salty elements.

Stir in the broken ramen noodles.

If you wish, dust with seasoning mixture from the ramen noodle packet.

You can make the dressing separately to add to the cabbage mixture, along with the ramen noodles when it’s time to serve.  I just let all of the ingredients mingle together, come what may.

Too Asian: Yes, I Am Cooking More Asian Food & Yes, It’s Short Ribs

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“Bev, I just want to make sure that the whole thing is not too Asian, ’cause that’s not my style.” 

Those who followed this past season of Top Chef will remember the infamous moment when Heather sternly forbade Beverly from cooking “too Asian.”  Despite the fact that Heather only cooked “rustic American food.”  And that Sarah mostly cooked Italian food.  Or Italian food gone anti-griddle wack.

Sarah also scolded Beverly, steering her away from cooking those damn short ribs again.

I’m more like Beverly that I’d like to admit.  I’m kind of awkward.  I’m Korean.  I cook and eat a lot of Asian food.  I run into walls.  I drop things.  I have a tendency to be spacey.  And I have an announcement.

Things are about to get all Asian up in here.  And they’re going to involve short ribs.  

Traditionaly cut galbi short ribs don’t grow on trees in this neck of the woods.  In the fall, I found frozen Korean short ribs at the Everyday Mart for $40 a box.  For my budget, they were pricey, but turned out as good as versions I’ve tried in Korean restaurants.

This weekend, I had a $6 package of non-korean short ribs in my freezer and I was determined them into galbi.  Fortunately, their long soak in galbi marinade rendered them silky and succulent.

Because this cut of meat is usually slow-cooked, I cut them into slices and soaked them for 18 hours in galbi marinade, to break down its connective tissue.

I served the short ribs along with lettuce for wrapping, scallions, julianned carrots, tart kimchee, gochujang, and Thai sticky rice.

Thai rice is usually steamed in a traditional metal pot and basket set.  Sticky rice is a delightful treat for a tired palate.  Plus, it’s a fun, moldable tool to transport food to mouth.  A pot and steamer basket will run about $10.

Both are available at the Asian & American Market in Fargo, ND for $13.  Look for glutenous or sweet rice from Thailand.  I found several varieties at the Asian & American Market ranging from $6-14.

This meal is definately slow food.  Plan to marinate your kalbi overnight and soak your rice the morning of.

Marinating Your Galbi
I used the same galbi marinade recipe from my post Flipping Amazing Galbi, reducing the quantity for my short ribs.  Feel free to vary from the recipe and, as always, add more or less ingredients to taste.  This time around, I reduced the sugar, honey and soda and added two, thinly sliced Thai chilis.  The Asian pear is essential to tenderizing the meat.

Ingredients:
1/2-1/3 cup soy sauce or tamari
1 Asian pear, grated with juices (available at Hornbachers)
2 Tablespoons of minced garlic
1/2 onion, peeled and grated, with juices
1 Tablespoon of grated ginger (you can leave the skin)
2 Tablespoons of light brown sugar
1 Tablespoon of honey
2 1/2 Tablespoons of sesame oil
1 Tablespoon of ground cayenne pepper or fresh chilis
1/4 teaspoon of black pepper
2 green onions, thinly sliced
Lemon-lime soda, about 20 ounces

Simply, mix the ingredients together and add the short ribs.  Marinate in the regrigerator, covered, overnight.

To cook, drip off the extra marinade and cook on a hot grill or pan until the meat reaches your desired level of doneness.

Serve with Thai sticky rice, julianned vegetables, gochujang, kimchee, and lettuce for wrapping.

To Make Thai Sticky Rice
Pour as much sticky rice as you need into a large bowl.  Rinse until the water is mostly clear.  Swish the rice around in the water and gently pour out the water, repeating a few times.

Allow the rice to soak in the clear water for at least four hours.  Since I hadn’t made sticky rice for years, I enjoyed this refresher from Blazing Hot Wok whose author recommends soaking while at work.

Fill the pot with a few inches of water and heat to medium-high.

Drain the rice and pour into the steamer basket.  Place the basket over the pot and cover with a lid.

Steam the rice for about 10-15 minutes after the water starts to boil.  Gently shake the basket and try to flip the ball of rice so the other side can steam evenly.  Keep tasting the rice until its texture is tender but not mushy.

When its finished, place in a bowl and cover with a towel.  You can also buy a traditional basket for holding cooked rice.

P.S.  The oldest 27-year old is now on Twitter.  You can follow me @JeniEats.

Stern Korean Grandmothering, Credit Card Flicking & Korean Chow: Adventures at Dong Yang

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Solo Road Trip Home Part II continues here.

I was pleasantly surprised when my folks agreed to a meal at Dong Yang, a tiny Korean restaurant located inside a tiny Korean grocery store, connected to a hardware store in Hilltop, MN (near Fridley and Colombia Heights).

Dong Yang
735 45th Ave NE
Hilltop, MN 

When I lived near Theodore Wirth Park, I occasionally ordered take-out from Dong Yang.  Since my folks recently moved to Shoreview, it seemed like a shame not to take advantage of the close proximity.

J. is an adventurous diner who is fond of spicy food, while Dad has always preferred his food mild and well-done.  I prepped them about Dong Yang’s stern Korean grandmother-style of service and they assured me they were ready.  Despite my dad’s disdain for kimchee.

We meandered through Dong Yang’s grocery store to the small kitchen that bustled with customers.  Although most of the tables were full, a gentleman graciously led us to an open seat.

I immediately noticed an illuminated menu with prices and photographs above the counter.  Gone were the pieces of 8 X 11 paper with menu items handwritten in Korean.  An arched entryway punctuated the back of the dining room where there had once stood a solid wall.

J. ordered the spicy pork stir fry, Dad chose beef bulgogi, and I ordered the kalbi shortribs.  When Dad handed the woman the credit card to pay our bill, she flung the card into the air and let it crash down onto the counter, where it rattled to a halt.  This sequence occurred within the blink of an eye and was performed in a comically, nonchalant manner.  With the same, deadpan expression.

We froze in confusion as we tried to figure out how the card flew up into the air.  Finally, she broke the silence by saying “No MasterCard.”  Her deadpan expression softened a bit.  Dad muttered “you were right” from the corner of his mouth and I just nodded and smiled as I tried not to crack-up.

After we settled, we were brought a beautiful tray of banchan, delightful little dishes of Korean appetizers and pickles, perfect for cutting the richness of meat.  We also received our own little bowl of rice.

Our spread included spicy, assorted kimchees and milder dishes like slightly sweet beansprouts, marinated strips of fishcake, eggplant and a cabbage salad of sorts.

Besides the traditional cabbage kimchee, my favorites included the eggplant and this spicy version kimchee made with different vegetables.

Shortly after, the kitchen began to set our entrees on the counter.  J’s spicy pork stir fry was indeed spicy.

Much spicier than the version Jake used to order from Hoban, and plush with fresh veggies like sliced jalapeno, thinly shaved carrot, and silky cabbage.  The sauce was delightfully spicy, perfectly balanced to the point of tasting addicting, and complicated in flavor.  This is definitely my favorite and spiciest version this type of pork dish I have ever tried in a local Korean restaurant.  When I return, I will order another serving.

Dad’s beef bulgogi was savory and sweet.

The slices of beef were thin, though one slice I tried was slightly dry.  I’m a sucker for beef bulgogi so I still considered it delicious.  He complained a bit about some fatty bits of meat he had to pick around, a taste and texture to which I’ve become accustomed or acquired the taste.

My galbi short ribs were plush and flavorful.  Some of the meat was medium rare, a treat in my book.

They were a bit chewy, but not enough to complain about and I enjoy working for my meat.  Similar to chicken wings and crab, I don’t mind navigating around bone and cartilage, and savoring small bits of melting fat.

During a lull, the staff took a break to enjoy a staff meal and I admired the mysterious and delicious-looking contents in their bowls and pots.

After we finished eating, I made sure we left a tip, despite the spontaneous credit card flipping.  We stood up to leave and had almost passed through the dining room’s doorway when we heard the same woman hollering at us.  When she repeated “self-serve” we realized she was trying to tell us to pick up our damn dishes!  So, with our tails between our legs, we scurried back to clear our table.

On the way out, we explored the restaurant and curiously eyed a row of tables near the entry, displaying plastic bins of mysterious treats.  All of the items were available for sampling, suggested by a plethora of toothpicks.

I didn’t feel brave enough to taste tiny, preserved fish soaking a vibrant red brine, nor preserved sea squirt.  Yes, sea squirt.  The same, pulsating, ruby red creature Andrew Zimmern sampled in Japan on Bizarre Foods.

All in all, the food was divine and the dining experience an adventure.  The prices of soups and entrees ranged around $8.99-$13.99 and the portion sizes were plentiful.  And remember, that banchan always comes with the meal.  I love Korean food, I love Dong Yang, and I love the stern (and sometimes terrifying) Korean grandmothering I never received.  There’s nothing like making up for lost time.

The Hilarity Ensues. . .
Until Saturday, I had never read Hunger Games, anything related to Hunger Games, and barely knew the plot.  My folks suggested a movie, post Dong Yang, and we somehow settled on Hunger Games due to its buzz and the fact that we wanted to attempt to remain relevant.  Despite my age, I often feel like an old soul.  For example, I prefer to read books in hard copy and just learned what a QR code was last week, a fact I probably shouldn’t admit in public.

We were nearly the eldest people in the movie theater, and by eldest, I mean even myself at my ripe old age of 27.  Without spoiling the movie, all I can say is that a team practically had to peel me off the ceiling and stabilize me at the conclusion.  For the rest of the afternoon, I was left grappling with omg so that’s what they meant by games and #IhadnoideawhatHungerGameswasaboutandjustsawthemoviepleasefindmytherapist.  #now.

Hash tags and all.

P.S. I feel better now.  The adrenaline has slowed just in time for the first book to arrive on my doorstep.

My First Whole Fish Smiled At Me With Rows Of Teeth

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Jake and I made the 3.5 hour trek back to the Twin Cities after work on Friday.  The drive to and from Fargo is a straight shot down I-94, and a rather uneventful one at that.

Jake fills up on coffee and drives, while I usually fall asleep around hour two to escape hour two of the Adam Carolla podcast.

One of my goals this past year has been to order a whole fish.

So, on Saturday, Jake and I stopped by our favorite haunt, Bangkok Thai Deli.

Bangkok Thai Deli  (Look for the sparkly, mosaic smokestack)
315 University Ave. W.
St. Paul, MN 55103
651-224-4300

For the first time, we ordered our meal to enjoy inside the deli.  I noticed the table in front of us order a whole, fried fish covered in a spicy-looking sauce with herbs.  So, mimicked what I’ve seen Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern do on television.  I pointed at their table and asked for what they were having.  We also ordered the spicy, grilled beef laarb and Jake’s favorite chicken pad thai, per usual.

Amongst a bustling, full house, we sipped on hot tea and Thai coffee swirled with sweetened condensed milk while we waited for our order.  I noticed a few copies of a “special menu” offering foods such as roasted duck, ribs fried in some kind of salt and chili mixture, and other items not included in Bangkok Thai’s normal menu.

After a short wait, our waiter delivered our first, whole fish.  It was giant, deep-fried and glistening in red sauce (I think our waiter mentioned tri-flavored sauce).

We navigated around the fish’s spiny fins and delicately nibbled its crispy skin and hatch-marked flesh.  The meat tasted clean and fresh without even the faintest “fishiness.”  I’ll have to admit that I was rather frightened of my whole fish when I noticed it grinning/grimacing at me with multiple rows of tiny teeth

We forged ahead, spitting out the occasional bones and licking the sweet and spicy chili sauce from our fingers.

Jake removed its head and dug around for tender cheek meat while I froze in fear with one chopstick in the air.  Later, I squeamishly picked up the fish head and relaxed a little as I cupped it in my fingers and realized it would not and could not move.

We both enjoyed our first, whole fish experience and I’m sure I’ll become more comfortable with the experience with repetition.  During my college years, I was terrified of peel and eat shrimp and made my friend peel them for me.  Now, I prefer my shrimp with their heads on and shell and legs intact and peel them for others.  When you grow up so far removed from eating food that resembles food, it can take time, exposure, and practice to become comfortable.  Like any new skill, trying new foods, especially food with teeth, can feel scary so be patient with yourself.

A family gathering prefaced by these followed our whole fish adventure. . .

Booya.

A Taste Of Korean Culture Camp: Pork Stir-Fried With Cucumber

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Brace yourself for another non-recipe recipe.

The art of recipe writing is a skill in which I could stand to improve.  Each time I set out to adapt or create a recipe for blogging purposes, I’m caught in a whirlwind of improvisation.  Before I realize it, I’m left with another non-recipe recipe.

Recently, my family unearthed this old Korean Culture Camp recipe booklet.

I don’t recall much about my childhood summers at Korean Culture Camp, except that the tomboy inside of me was terrified of performing the fan dance in a hanbok, and I always looked forward to lunch.

Minnehaha Academy’s cafeteria was taken over by Korean cooking and campers ate kimchi, fried rice, and mandu on plastic lunch trays.  Just for the record, I’ve always liked kimchi.

My Korean Culture Camp booklet includes a simple beef and cucumber stir-fry, a perfect meal for a Friday evening.  Not quite a week night and not quite a weekend.

I substituted tender pork for beef and spiked the marinade with a split habanero and cayenne pepper.  I started by following the booklet’s recipe and added more ingredients to amp up the flavor.  The sesame seeds add a nutty flavor that is rich like peanut butter.  Overall, it’s a highly addictive dish that I enjoyed for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The ingredients, below, provide a rough guide for 1/3-1/2 pound of meat.  You only need enough marinade to coat your meat.  If you do not have mirin, sweeten the soy sauce with sugar or honey until you like its flavor.  As you cook the meat and vegetables, savory juices will meld with the marinade and create a umami-filled sauce.

Start with equal parts soy sauce and tamari and test for balance (I preferred a little more soy).  The rest of the ingredients can be added to taste, but use the sesame oil sparingly, as it’s very fragrant.

Ingredients
2-3 cucumbers
Sliced mushrooms
About 1/3 lb of a tender cut of boneless pork or beef, sliced thinly (frozen meat is easier to thinly slice)
2 Tablespoons of soy sauce or tamari
2 Tablespoons of Mirin
1/2 Tablespoon sesame oil
Two scallions, sliced, plus extra for garnish
2 teaspoons sesame seeds
A dash of ground ginger, or a glob of freshly grated ginger
Black Pepper
Optional: Cayenne Pepper (to taste)
Optional: Habanero Pepper, split

Directions
Peel the cucumbers, cut in half (hot dog style), and scoop out the seeds.  Slice the cucumber halves and let them sit in a strainer with a sprinkle of salt for 1/2 hour to eliminate extra moisture.Make the marinade by combining a couple Tablespoons each of mirin and soy sauce.  Taste for balance, and add more soy sauce, mirin, or sugar if needed.Stir in the sesame oil, chopped scallion, sesame seeds, ginger, black pepper.  If you like things hot, add cayenne pepper.  If you like things hotter, try splitting open a fresh habanero pepper and allowing it to soak in the marinade.

Add thinly sliced meat to the marinade and allow to mingle for at least 15-minutes.

Preheat a pan over medium-high heat with a couple tablespoons of oil (not olive oil).  Stir-fry the mushrooms until tender and caramelized and set aside.  Then, add the beef with its marinade and stir-fry.

Add the sliced cucumber to the beef and stir fry for about a minute.  Then, add the mushrooms back to the pan and allow everything to briefly simmer, continuing to taste for seasoning.

Lucy’s North China Cuisine: Two Takes

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Last weekend weekend, Jake and I were both feeling run-down so we opted for a quiet Superbowl Sunday night at home.

Jake is the football fanatic of our relationship.  I have never understood how the game of football works and many have tried to provide explanations without success.  The few times I earnestly tried to watch a game, I fell asleep.  Though I managed to watch the second half of the game, I was more concerned about when I could watch The Voice.

As Jake watched his game, I picked up takeout from

Lucy’s North China Cuisine
3003 32nd Ave S
Fargo, ND 58102
701-356-5100

When we first moved to Fargo, I tried Lucy’s, solo, and ordered a spicy fish entree with tofu, onion pancakes, and homemade kimchee.

The onion pancakes were Lucy’s pancakes were smaller, denser, and more compact than versions I’ve tasted at Szechuan restaurants.

They were crunchy on the outside, flaky, and hinted of five spice.

The salty-sour dipping sauce made a wonderful accompaniment.

The house made kimchee tasted different than traditional Korean kimchee.

I liked the crunchy texture of the pickled cabbage and its spicy and complex flavor.  The marinade tasted sweeter, included different spices, and packed a large garlic punch (which I enjoyed).  Definitely worth a try for those who enjoy kimchee.

I wasn’t so fond of the fish.  When I lived in North Minneapolis, I loved going to The Teahouse in Plymouth, MN to order the fish fillets with tofu and cabbage in spicy broth.

At Lucy’s, the fish fillets were plentiful, had a beautiful texture, and tasted fresh.  The salty seasoning sprinkled on top of the fillets was also delicious.

However, I could not stomach the sauce.  It felt and tasted like pure, unflavored oil and I could not palate  its scent.

On our recent Superbowl visit, I ordered Kung Pao Chicken, onion pancakes, and sweet and sour fish.

Second visit disclaimer:  I did not order the Grandma Noodles or Hunan Fish, dishes a friend highly recommended.  Maybe I should have known better than to order Szechuan and sweet and sour dishes at a Northern Chinese restaurant, however, they were for sale.  I will not give my final verdict of Lucy’s based upon the non-Northern Chinese dishes I ordered.

I did not enjoy this version of Kung Pao Chicken.  The chicken tasted strong and a bit funky.  The sauce had a nice garlic flavor, but was viscous and oily and lacked chili peppers.  I had a love-hate relationship with the vegetables.  I loved that they were vegetables and provided crunch, but hated that they were carrots and celery.  Also, I did not detect smokiness or wok breath.

The tofu and vegetable dish was better.  The slices of tofu had a pleasant texture and the vegetables were crisp and delicious.  Even Jake enjoyed this tofu, as he is not one to seek out dishes made with meat substitutes.  The sauce was slightly spicy, but its oiliness was overwhelming.

The Kung Pao and tofu sauces seemed to be mostly oil which coated everything and pooled around the bottom of our plates.

My favorite dish was the sweet and sour fish.

Our portion contained a large amount of fried fish fillets coated in sweet and sour sauce that was dotted with green peas.

Because the fish was pre-covered in sauce, the batter was soggy and erased all hope for crispiness.  However, the fish had a delicate and silky mouthfeel and tasted clean.  We were able to forgive the soggy batter because the fish was so delicious.

The sweet and sour sauce tasted like the garden variety, but it wasn’t too sweet for my tastes.  On a return visit, I’d order this dish again and ask for the sauce on the side.

In conclusion, I was not elated with most of the dishes I have ordered from Lucy’s and could not stomach the oily sauces.  I liked the scallion pancakes on both visits (Jake left his untouched) and found the sweet and sour fish strangely addicting.  If I can overcome my sweet and sour seafood craving, I will try their lion’s head meatballs, dumplings, grandma noodles, Hunan fish, or a special written on their blackboard.

On both visits, the service was pleasant and take-out order quickly made.  I may have been assisted by Lucy, herself, and she was lovely.

Americanized or not, where is your favorite place to grab Chinese take-out in the Fargo-Moorhead area?

I Cooked A Bitter Melon And I Liked It

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In my last post, I mentioned that I love vegetables.

It’s true.  I’ve literally liked, at the very least, every vegetable that I’ve ever eaten.

I especially love the vegetables that received less love such as cabbage, okra, slimy nopales, cooked spinach, and mustard greens.

I even like soggy, boiled brussel sprouts and stringy, pre-frozen asparagus.  And now I can add another veggie to the list.

I cooked a bitter melon and I liked it.

This banged-up bitter melon came from the Asian & American Market on Main Ave.  I’d never tasted a bitter melon, but often see it appear on Chowtimes, one of my favorite blogs, and Paul, of this season’s Top Chef, incorporated the  melon into a “least favorite dish” during the conveyor belt Quickfire challenge.

Squirming with curiosity, I took a nibble of a raw, unblanched slice of bitter melon and found it palatable, despite its bitterness.

 Following the suggestions of many online sources, (including this thread from Chowhound and The Bitter Melon Truth from Simple, Good, and Tasty) I cut the bitter melon in half, removed the seeds and white pith with a spoon, and sliced thinly.  A quick blanch in salt water, shock in ice water, and a couple rinses supposedly removed some of the bitterness.

The blanch and rinses mellowed the bitterness, though it was most certainly still bitter melon.  Lately, I’ve been craving sour, vinegary, bitter foods so the bitter melon tasted palatable to me.  It’s highly regarded for its health properties including the management of blood sugar and acne.  Was my body trying to tell me something by screaming out for this vegetable I have never eaten?

To balance the bitterness, many favored pairing bitter melon with a fatty element.  I browned some fresh Italian sausage links with sliced onion.  Then, I added the bitter melon slices, seasoned with tamari, ground cayenne, cracked black pepper, and plenty of mirin.

My verdict:  Tasty.  Not a food I would want to eat all of the time, but I would definitely crave bitter melon on occasion.  Next time, I’ll skip the sausage and incorporate the melon into scrambled eggs.Jake pronounced the bitter melon “gross, aptly named, and disgusting.”  He also said it tasted like “tar.  Melony tar.”

Apparently, Jake has eaten tar.

How do you bitter melon?