Monthly Archives: June 2015

When The Unicorns Come to Town

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When the unicorns come to town……
2015-06-10 07.04.24Wherever we–our little band of international food writers and broadcasters, in Yantai, China for the Gourmand Cookbook Awards–went, we were met with wonder, with awe, with cameras! Everyone we came upon, everyone who saw us, right away wanted to be snapped with us in a photo; it was as if we were creatures of wonder and there was no mistaking it: we were welcome, we were beyond welcome.
But we did not understand it at all: why would anyone want photos of US? James McIntosh was used to it, being a celeb chef in China due to his television series The Silk Road and introducing Aga to China. as was Cyril Rouquet-Prevost, world ambassador for Masterchef. But Bruna VS, Michelle Brachet, and myself asked Simon, our guardian angel in China, “Why? Why do they want OUR photos?”. 2015-06-11 03.11.29 “You look so different, like no one else they have ever seen” replied Simon. “Your hair, your clothes, your skin, its all so different……can you imagine: it is as if a vehicle filled with wonderful unicorns were to land in your town: you’d come out to snap pictures, right? Well, to the people of Yantai, Penglai, and other parts of less travelled China: YOU are like unicorns. And people want to remember you with pictures, especially ones that include themselves!”

te lovely Bruna with her rainbowl hair was the most unicorn of us all!

te lovely Bruna with her rainbowl hair was the most unicorn of us all!

I’ve never felt so loved.
licking rainbow lollies in the back of the van en route to Penglai. James McIntosh and I are taking our lollypop munching with great glee! To be honest, we all were!

licking rainbow lollies in the back of the van en route to Penglai. James McIntosh and I are taking our lollypop munching with great glee! To be honest, we all were!

Lunch in Yantai/ Fragrant Chicken and Potatoes

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Yantai, China, where the Gourmand Book Awards were held, is just across the water from Korea, both North and South–so near in fact, that if you look closely you can see its shadow just over my shoulder on this not very flattering selfie. 2015-06-11 03.56.03 The event itself took place away from the center of town, in a charming complex of buildings, gardens, artisan workshops, restaurants and bars, leading down a hill to the beach. The area so swiftly being developed that skyscrapers with cranes on top mark the landscape and in the course of the week we were there, we noticed huge changes. It was kind of staggering how quickly things sprang up: one day the road was dirt, the next day the cranes and diggers were at work, and by the time we left it was a super smooth roadway. Buildings were springing up, starting with a dry emply plot of dirt. Halfway through finishing the landscapers came in with gardeners and trees, bushes, grass, suddenly appeared; before the buildings were even finished the area was livable. Areas of run down huts were being replaced by high rises and luxury. I nearly cried when we drove to the airport and across from the terminals, in a triangle surrounded by motorways/freeways, a weather-beaten cowherd watched his small herd.

With tradition life disappearing so quickly, there is the sadness of bye-bye charm. On the other hand: for the people who live there, hello more comfortable life.

One afternoon I set out with Barcelona’s Laura Gosalbo–her book of food memories of her mother and grandmother had won a Gourmand Award–searching for lunch. We turned towards the beach and found a little strip of shops and restaurants: I had heard there was some wonderful food here but had no further clues as to where. Unable to read the Chinese signs, we had little idea of what was going on inside or even which storefronts were restaurants. We decided to pop into each and see, then make our decision after we had visited them all.

The first was a laundry. The second a sort of convenience shop. The third was an empty room with formica tables, a sign advertising cherries (it was the season in Yantai). It looked grim but it smelled FABULOUS. We next found our pottery master, the resident artisan in the complex, who had been teaching us to throw clay on his wheel; he ushered us into a stark and rustic-elegant room with a long low table and a zillion teas. It was the most zen place I’ve ever been to. Our pottery master stayed for tea but we mimed eating and set out to continue our search for food. One restaurant looked perky and clean and promising, with photos of the enticing things we could eat. The last restaurant on the row was appealing, brightly coloured, and Korean. It was such a difficult decision, they all looked promising.

2015-06-11 02.11.44In the end we chose the one that smelled wonderful, that had been empty first time around. Now, 20 minutes later when we returned, it was packed. And it smelled even better with bowl after bowl of noodles and stir-fries, soups and huge sesame-flatbreads on each table. A woman–the owner?– sat at a corner table peeling a mountain of garlic. She took a break for a bowl of noodles, and I noticed her eating a clove or two of the garlic as she slurped her noodles and soup. 2015-06-11 02.02.03

First we ate a big crisp sesame-coated flatbread with chilli sauce and a plate of spicy crunchy potato salad. I have eaten this salad in Flushing, New York, and wondered how the potatoes stayed so crunchy yet shoestring thin. We they cut and then par boiled or were they par boiled and then cooked? or possibly, were they stir fried gently? Yantai seemed to be the epicenter of this particular dish: it was on every table and menu, every meal from breakfast to dinner. And yet: I still don’t know how to make it. On my next visit to New York food writer Tia Keenan and myself are going to look ourselves in her kitchen with the largest bag of potatoes we can find, and not emerge until we have cracked the code. 2015-06-11 01.12.39 We drank cooling local beer–Tsingtao beer is made nearby, in the town of Quingdao, introduced by the Germans, and has spawned a whole industry of refreshing local light lagers: 2015-06-11 01.14.41good with the crisp sesame flatbreads and chilli paste. 2015-06-11 01.11.12 Somewhere along the way there were chewy, hand-rolled thick noodles in soup.

But clearly, the winner of the day, possible the whole trip, was the mystery dish we had just pointed to or were we told by the waiter that this was what we were having? It was hard to tell. In any event, its the big platter in the large photo above: chicken and potatoes, long simmered, tasting of spices, golden with turmeric, and spunky with hot chilli and studded with long strips of fresh ginger. There was, unsurprisingly, garlic galore. It was divine.

So, when I stepped off the plane, and hours later found myself in my own kitchen with a hungry self and husband as well as a package of chicken breasts, I whipped up my own version of the dish. It wasn’t the same, exactly, I used chicken breasts instead of a whole chicken’s worth of parts, so my version cooked for less time. Other than that, it was wonderful. So wonderful I really want you to make it. I know I want to make it again. and probably again.

Chicken and Potatoes from Yantai, China
Serves about 4
PS: I used olive oil instead of whichever oil the restaurant used: chicken shmaltz/fat would also be delicious instead.

2 tablespoons oil of choice, less (or more) as desired
2 onions peeled and cut into chunks
8 cloves of garlic, thickly sliced or in chunks
1 carrot, coarsely diced
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
3 medium large waxy potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
1/2 green pepper, cut into thin strips
About 1 inch length peeled ginger, cut lengthwise into paperthin slices/strips
1 fresh not too hot red chilli pepper, sliced (seeded if you wish it milder, keep the seeds and add more chilli if you want it hotter)
3 plump boned chicken breasts, cut into large chunks–say, each breast cut into 3 or 4 pieces
Salt and black pepper to taste
5-6 black cardomom pods, whole
2-3 tablespoons paprika, preferably smoked but not hot, paprika
20-25 cherry/grape tomatoes, halves
Pinch Chinese five spice
1/2-1 teaspoon turmeric powder or about a teaspoon or more, finely chopped/shredded peeled fresh turmeric root
Juice of 1/2 to one lemon, to taste
Water or mixture water and chicken stock/broth, to cover
Fresh coriander leaves/cilantro to serve
Thinly sliced green/spring onions
Extra lemon if desired

In a wok or other heavy frying pan, heat the oil to medium hot, then add the onions, garlic, carrots and cumin seeds; lower the heat to low, and cook for a few minutes slowly until the vegetables soften and are gilded with the oil. Add the potatoes, green pepper, ginger, chilli pepper, and chicken, raise the heat slightly, and stir-cook (not so hot as to stir-fry) until the potatoes are coated with the spices. Season with salt and pepper. Chicken should not be cooked through.

Add the black cardomom pods, paprika, cherry/grape tomatoes Chinese five-spice, turmeric, and half the lemon Cook together, stirring, a few minutes then remove the chicken to a plate. The chicken should not be cooked through at all. It should still be mostly raw.

Add the water or water+broth mixture, cover with lid, and raise the heat. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer for 15-20 minutes or long enough to cook the potatoes almost through.

Return chicken to pot, cover and continue simmering, stirring once or twice, until chicken is done. You want the potatoes–truely the best part of this dish–you want the potatoes to be cooked through but not falling apart.

Serve garnished with green/spring onions and coriander leaves/cilantro; if desired, squirt in a little extra lemon.

The Best Borsht

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I think I made the best borsht of my life today.

To be honest, most every time I make or eat a borsht, inbetween spoonfuls I moan: “The Best Borsht ever”. But yesterday, with this borsht, even my husband–Anglo-Scots through and through, someone who didn’t grow up on borsht but enjoyed it during student visits to Russia, agreed: Best Ever.

I’ve been trying to figure out why. I mean, it looks just like ordinary vegetable borsht: shocking, neon pink. The colour that sets borsht lovers into a sort of frisson of happy anticipation and borsht-haters into abject fear; in other words the way borsht is meant to be. Yet something in this borsht transcended ordinary: it tastes: complex, healthy, refreshing, delicious……Was it the freshness of the beet/beetroots? probably yes. Was it the delicacy of the Savoy cabbage, or the addition of both butternet squash (sweet) and green beans (slightly bitter and green gardeny)? Yes also. Was it that last minute brainstorm of splashing in pickle juice? I have no doubt about it.

Most of all, somehow, after 6 months of cancer treatment and now, looking towards the future and beginning to feel better: this soup, it tastes encouraging! If that makes sense? and with each spoonful I feel clearer about life and the future.

Vegetable Borsht of Encouragement and Clarity (Physically, its really just a simple vegetable borsht with a splash of pickle juice–spiritually: eating this borsht was “a moment”)
Serves 4 or 2 people over the course of several meals
Borsht can take so many forms: borsht with meat (such as Eastern European in other words someone in the family made it this way and we never figured out where they came from, of long simmered beef, and there is the French borsht that a cookbook friend, Georgeanne Brennan, prepares, staring with “a whole duck”). There is borsht with only vegetables too. We have hot borsht (not only a soup but a Bay Area Klezmer band) filled with cabbage and vegetables and cold borsht that is mostly beets, a shimmering clear jewel-like liquid. There is thick pureed borsht–such as one I ate in Paris topped with a scattering of chopped hazelnuts and dill, and thin clear borsht such as the Polish Christmastime soup that comes to the table floating the tiniest delicate wild-mushroom stuffed pasta, ushki. Then there is borsht with lots of chunks of vegetables in it, a simple garden soup really; what makes it borsht is the beets/beetroots and the sweet-sour balance of seasoning.

Many add potatoes: cooked separately so they don’t cloud up or weigh down the bright light soup. One of my favourite childhood treats was going to Canters Restaurant in Los Angeles where you can order hot borsht with cold potatoes or cold borsht with hot the potatoes; either way you get maximum borsht absorance into the spuds while the soup retains its clarity.

Basically, a borsht can have so many forms: its all about spirit rather than letter of the recipe. The vegetables can vary, so can the meats. Borsht is really the soupe sans frontiers: in India there is a wonderful beet/beetroot soup, a borsht really, filled with indian spices and sometimes turmeric-tinted meat-filled dumplings. And the last time I made my very Jewish borsht I added leftover Greek stuffed cabbage to the soup at the last minute to warm through. Wonderful.

5-6 medium large-ish beets, peeled and cut into bite sized chunks
1 small Savoy cabbage, cut into bite sized chunks
1 red onion, or about 5-8 small shallots, or 2 large-type torpedo shallots, peeled and sliced or coarsely chopped
2-3 whole garlic cloves, peeled or not, as you like
Several large slices of hubbard or other firm winter squash, peeled and cut into bite sized pieces (in volume about 2-3 cups worth, a few handfuls, we’re talking aproximations and very very loose measurements here
1 tin/can 400-ish g/ 13 is oz chopped tomatoes plus their juice
About 2 litres/ 2 quarts mixture half water, half broth or all water plus one or two stock/bouillion cubes
Handful green beans, topped and tailed then cut into bite sized lengths
2-3 tablespoons sugar or honey
Sour salt–citric acid; several small pinches to taste, or use vinegar, but really: sour salt is indepensible to a good borsht
About 1/4 cup pickle juice, or more, to taste (you can use kosher kill pickles or Polish slightly sweet pickles; I used French cornichons pickle liquid with its lovely tarragon and mustard seed scent)
To serve:
A few drops vinegar in each bowl
Sour cream
Chives, snipped into tiny bits

Into a large soup pot place the beets, cabbage, onion, garlic, hubbard squash and tomatoes then add the water/broth to the pot.

Bring to the boil, reduce heat and simmer until the beets and squash are tender, maybe 30-40 minutes.

Add the green beans, sugar/honey, citric acid, and continue to cook another 15-20 minutes.

When all the vegetables are tender, adjust the sweet-sour balance with sugar/honey, and citric acid, then add the pickle juice and warm through together.

To serve, and by the way its even better the next day and the day after that though i wouldn’t go much further than a couple of days, heat the soup through, and ladle it into bowls, each bowl with a few drops of vinegar added. Top each bowlful with a spoonful or two of sour cream or creme fraiche or Greek yogurt, then sprinkle with chives.

Sour rye bread with butter is pretty much perfection with a bowl of borsht. If you can access to good sour rye bread, now is the time.