# recipe

title: Beef Chow Mein
source: Gourmet September 2005 Inspired by "Chop Suey Chow Mein," Louis Prima, 1953 (www.epicurious.com)
recipe_hash: 961d7b487f716a03f2249480b93fb065
ingredient_hash: 8f458e24bc653dc0af3c3bc266b1048c
link: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/recipe_views/views/232606
instructions:
Cut steak with the grain into 1 1/2- to 2-inch-wide strips. Cut each strip across the grain into 1/4-inch-thick slices and put in a medium bowl. Using your hands, toss beef with sugar, sesame oil, 1 tablespoon soy sauce, 1 tablespoon rice wine, 1 tablespoon oyster sauce, and 1 teaspoon cornstarch. Let beef marinate at room temperature while preparing remaining ingredients.
Stir together remaining 1 tablespoon soy sauce, 1 tablespoon rice wine, 1 tablespoon oyster sauce, and 1 teaspoon cornstarch with 1/4 teaspoon white pepper in a small bowl until smooth, then stir in chicken broth.
Heat wok over high heat until a drop of water evaporates within 1 to 2 seconds of contact, then add 1/2 cup peanut oil and heat until just smoking. Carefully add noodles all at once, flattening top to form a 9-inch cake. Cook until underside is golden, 4 to 5 minutes, rotating noodle cake with a metal spatula to brown evenly and lifting edges occasionally to check color. Carefully flip noodle cake over with spatula and tongs, then cook, rotating cake, until other side is golden, 2 to 3 minutes more. Transfer noodle cake to a large paper-towel-lined plate to drain excess oil. Discard any oil remaining in wok and wipe out wok with paper towels.
Transfer drained noodle cake to a platter and loosely cover with foil to keep warm.
Heat wok over high heat until a drop of water evaporates within 1 to 2 seconds of contact. Pour 1 tablespoon peanut oil down side of wok, then swirl oil, tilting wok to coat sides. Add beef, spreading pieces in 1 layer on bottom and sides as quickly as possible. Cook, undisturbed, letting beef begin to brown, 1 minute, then stir-fry until meat is just browned on all sides but still pink in center, about 1 minute. Transfer meat and any juices to a plate.
Add 1 tablespoon oil to wok over high heat. When oil just begins to smoke, add ginger and garlic and stir-fry 5 seconds, then add scallions and stir-fry 30 seconds. Add mushrooms and stir-fry until softened, about 3 minutes. Add choy sum and stir-fry until leaves are bright green and just wilted, 2 to 3 minutes (if using broccoli, cook until almost crisp-tender). Stir broth mixture, then pour into wok and stir-fry until sauce is slightly thickened, about 2 minutes. Add beef and stir to coat. Return mixture just to a boil, then pour over noodle cake.
*Available at Uwajimaya (800-889-1928).

Makes 4 main-course servings.

Gourmet

September 2005

Inspired by "Chop Suey Chow Mein," Louis Prima, 1953


title: Chilli
modifications: Antony Worrall Thompson
recipe_hash: 70c91207c8fce63f338b9738dea29187
ingredient_hash: 6de2e25e1c467338dcc377fb14dbc8c3
link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/database/chilli_78774.shtml
instructions:
1. Heat a large pan until hot then add the olive oil and beef mince. Fry until browned, then remove from the pan and set aside. 
2. Add the onions, garlic, celery and chillies and sweat for 5-6 minutes until golden.
3. Add all the spices and fry for one minute.
4. Return the beef to the pan and stir to combine.
5. Add the tomato purée, tinned tomatoes and stock and bring to the boil.
6. Reduce the heat and simmer for 1-1½ hours until very tender.
7. Add the chocolate and kidney beans and simmer for a further five minutes until hot through.
8. Check the seasoning before adding the coriander leaves and serving.


title: Thai Chicken Soup For The Soul: Tom Kha Gai
recipe_hash: cae457bf7d884cff605ecfc74a3279e1
ingredient_hash: 04e9cd4e40e72cd34da9d5e5390ee378
link: http://www.tigersandstrawberries.com/2006/07/05/thai-chicken-soup-for-the-soul-tom-kha-gai/
instructions:
Combine coconut milk, chicken broth, galangal, lemongrass, lime leaves, zest or oil, and curry paste in a heavy-bottomed pot. Bring to a boil, turn down heat and simmer. Season to taste with fish sauce. Turn down heat and allow to simmer for at least one half hour, forty minutes is better.

Fish out galangal and lemongrass. Add mushrooms and chicken. Simmer until chicken is done. Fish out lime leaves, add lime juice to taste, and garnish with cilantro leaves, scallion tops and sliced chilis.

modifications:
Some foods are comforting because they remind us of our childhoods. 

They remind us of home, mother, milk, and the warmth of grandmother’s kitchen. They take us back to when life was good, and simple and food was something that came to you without effort. As children, we asked, and then, did receive.

Other foods are comforting because of what they are.

For me, Thai tom kha gai is comforting just because of what it is: a silky, velvety-smooth coconut-milk based soup filled with the flavors of lemongrass, galangal, lime, and chile, enlivened by small pieces of just-cooked chicken and slippery-sweet mushrooms. From the first time I tasted this soup, years ago in a Thai restaurant in Cleveland, I have longed for it, and every time I eat it since, from the first taste, I feel like I am coming home. 

It doesn’t remind me of my childhood at all, or at least not the childhood I remember consciously of this life. It cannot–it is a soup born of a place of where yards are fillled with trees bearing tropical fruits, and kitchens exist in a room separate from the main house. It is born of a place where rice is the staple food, grown in emerald terraces, where gilt Buddhist temples rise from the trees, and where strong flavors are the rule of the day. 

I was not born into such a world, but every time I taste tom kha gai, my heart is made at peace, my stomach is made happy, and I cannot help but smile, resting in the comfort of the flavors that envelop my senses.

Yesterday, I cooked up a Thai dinner: tom kha gai, nam sod and panang neur with steamed jasmine rice. In part, it was because I wanted to make a nice dinner to celebrate the holiday, and. in part, because I was on a mission of mercy. A friend of a friend is suffering post-surgical appetite loss, and it turns out that she is partial to Thai food. So, I promised to make up some Thai food to send over to her, in the hopes of kick-starting her appetite, as there is no place any closer than Columbus to get take out Thai. My hopes are that the healing powers of chicken galangal soup will assist in healing someone who is having trouble eating, and if it does, and she eats well, I promised to make some more Thai goodies to keep her eating, so that her body can do its work to repair itself.

The second word in tom kha gai, “kha,” means, “galangal,” and it is the backbone of the soup. Coconut milk is the vehicle that carries the flavor, but it is not the basis of the soup. It is all about galangal. 

Galangal is the tougher, larger, more complex-flavored cousin to ginger. Also a rhizome, galangal is best used fresh or failing that, frozen; I have tried to use dried chips of it to make tom kha gai in the past and have failed miserably. Most of the sharp, medicinal tang of the flavor is dissipated when it is dried, so the complexity of galangal is lost, leaving on a whisper of mustiness behind. 

When fresh or frozen, however, the full impact of galangal is ready to be absorbed into the coconut milk-based soup. To infuse the broth with the galangal flavor, I buck tradition and simmer it very slowly over at least a two hour period of time. I leave the stalks of lemongrass and the lime zest or leaves in for the full time as well, allowing their fresh, floral flavors to fully invade the succulent coconut milk and chicken broth base along with the galangal. I also slip a tablespoon or so of red curry paste into the soup at this time to add a further note of complexity to the flavor.

Galangal is often found fresh at Asian markets that cater to southeast-Asian populations; it can even more often be found in plastic packages frozen. The rhizomes are simply cleaned up, and cut into big chunks, then packed in clear plastic and frozen, and I have found little difference in quality between fresh or frozen galangal. One thing I will note–these very tough, hard rhizomes are easier to cut once they have been frozen and thawed–they are like rocks otherwise. That is why I always use my heaviest cleaver to cut them when they are fresh.

When the soup base is fully flavored by these aromatics, I fish them out with my wire skimmer, and discard them; neither galangal slices nor bruised lemongrass stalks (to bruise them, I cut the stalks as directed in the recipe, and then tap them heavily with the back edge of a cleaver–one can smash them with the flat of the cleaver as well, but one risks having them fall apart and leave shards of fibrous material in the soup if one completely mashes the stalks) are particularly edible unless they are cut very finely or pounded into a puree.

After the basic flavors are in the broth and the stalks, rhizomes and zest are discarded, I then add a lot of fish sauce to the broth, to add a deep, satisfying salty tang. Do not skimp on the fish sauce, no matter what you might think of what it smells like. With fish sauce, more is better. After I have tasted the soup, I then add the sliced mushrooms and the chicken bits, allowing them to simmer gently until just done; I do not like the chicken to become overcooked and tough. It should be as tender and silken as the broth. 

Finally, a kiss of lime juice, a sprinkling of herbs and scallion tops, and out the soup goes to the table, accompanied by a bowl of sliced Thai chiles so diners can add as little or as much heat as they would like. (I like it very, very hot, personally, and find that there is no other soup in the world that can cure me of a cold faster than supremely spicy tom kha gai. It also gives my cheeks an attractive rosey glow, I am told.)

It is a simple soup to make, and it really is comforting. I hesitate to claim healing powers for it, but I do know that after eating last night, everyone’s sinuses cleared right up, including Heather’s, and she has been having a horrible time with allergies this week.


title: Nam Sod
recipe_hash: 2f56eae2982b4e8051a8230f22407185
ingredient_hash: 45bf2df77d945d131d17efdf4d02b1b2
link: http://www.tigersandstrawberries.com/2005/09/05/dont-fear-the-fish-sauce/
instructions:
Trim all membranes and most of the fat from the boneless skinless chicken breasts and remove all tendons. Cut the meat into a rough dice, then mince by hand. It should be unevenly done, with some larger pieces and some much finer–this is why it is easiest to do this by hand. Using a food processor or buying ground chicken results in a texture which is too uniform. (In order to see an example of of mincing chicken with two cleavers, there is a reference photograph in my post about minced chicken in lettuce cups.)

Mix chicken in a bowl with fish sauce and cornstarch and set aside in a bowl while prepping the vegetables and garnishes

Heat wok until smoking, add oil. When it is very hot, add minced garlic, ginger, chiles, curry paste, cilantro, and peppercorns and stir fry until very fragrant–about one minute. Add chicken all at once and stir fry, chopping at the chicken with the wok shovel to get it to stop sticking together. When chicken is half done (when roughly half of it is white and half is transluescent pink), add fish sauce.

When chicken is mostly done, add carrots and stir fry about thirty seconds, then add onions and stir fry until chicken is done. Add snow peas, herbs, lime zest and the juice of two limes, and continue stir frying until the herbs begin to wilt–about thirty or forty seconds. 

Add half of the peanuts and stir to combine. 

Pour contents of wok onto serving platter and mound decoratively. Scatter cilantro sprigs around and over mound.

Garnish with remaining peanuts and whatever garnishes you choose to use. 

To serve, flatten a serving of rice on a plate, and scoop up nam sod, being certain to get some of the lettuce leaves, and put on top. Serve with a lettuce wedge on the side.

modifications:
I am continually amazed at how fearful salty fermented fish squeezings can make people.

Every time I have taught a class in Thai cooking (which has been many times over the past five years or so), I have had one or two people hang towards the back of the room, and when I launch into my spiel about how necessary fish sauce is to getting that correct “Thai flavor” in their cooking, one of them puts up a tentative hand, and in a quavery voice asks, “Do you -have- to use fish sauce? I mean, is it -really- necessary?”

I try very hard not to sigh or bark back at them, “What did I just get through telling you? Weren’t you listening?”

Instead, I very patiently go over why fish sauce is necessary in the making of Thai food, and how even some Thai vegetarians even use it, but that if it really bothers you or if you are allergic to fish you can use Thai soy sauce, but be aware that your dishes will not taste like the ones you eat out in Thai restaurants, because you will be lacking a crucial ingredient.

This usually causes the fearful ones to settle down until I start doing cooking demonstrations and pour a liberal amount of fish sauce into a hot wok. When the scent of boiling fish hits them in a cloud of steam, the fearful ones usually step back and snivel, their faces screwed up into expressions of disgust and mistrust.

I usually resort to humor at that point, and tell folks that when I cook Thai food for the first time for guests, I always make up a pretext to send them out of the kitchen when it comes time to whip out the fish sauce and throw it in the wok. For instance, I always send my Mom out to the porch for a last cigarrette before dinner is ready. Any number of friends have been sent out on various pretexts: go set the table, feed the dog, look at the garden, oh, wow, there is a deer in the yard, go look–you name it, I have used it.

But that is only for the squeamish and uninitiated, and that was only done years and years ago when I was less confident. These days, my friends and family are old pros and they know, that no matter what smells may issue forth at intervals from my stove, the end result is always divinely edible, so they wait it out in anticipation.

Some of them, like me, have learned to salivate when they smell the fish sauce spashed against a hot wok.

Because here is the deal: fish sauce grows on you. It may not smell to conventional Western tastes, what one would call good, but after a while, it doesn’t smell bad, either. And then, as you cook with it more and more, and your palate and nose begin to associate the smell of fish sauce with the delicious results of pad thai, green curry or tom kha gai, you begin to actually like the smell of it. It becomes comforting, homey and appetizing.

Once you start making dipping sauces out of it by combining it with sugar, lime juice and chiles, it starts to smell and taste downright good in its own right.

At that point, my friend, you will know that you have learned to love that which you once feared. And that is a good place to be.

Because fish sauce can then become a secret ingredient in your kitchen arsenal. Of course you will use it in Thai food and Vietnamese food, because you can’t make the stuff without it. But after you learn what beautiful, mysterious things it can do to food, you will find yourself bringing it out to use in dishes that never saw southeast Asia, except maybe in a travel brochure.

I have used it to pick up a few Italian sauces that tasted somehow flat. This sounds disgusting and surprising, until you take into account that fish sauce is made from salted, fermented anchovies–a wee fish that is used often to round out the flavors in Italian foods. I have added it to vegetable soups that lacked a savory depth, probably because I didn’t use a good soup bone in making them.

I have not gone so far as to add it to any desserts or breads, but you never know. I once added duck sauce to a batch of cookies, and invented a new recipe that people adore, so watch out.

Fish sauce may well appear in a tart someday.

But, for now, I tend to prefer to use fish sauce for its intended purpose, which is to make Thai food addictively, splendiferously, delectable.

This Saturday, I made a little Thai/Chinese supper for the friends; I was supposed to make steamed buns, but after the ordeal of nearly breaking my nose by closing the hatchback of our car in it (I knocked myself out for a few seconds–it was quite exciting–I scared Zak to death and irritated myself because after that, I was not only hobbling with a very bruised foot, I had a cut and a bruise on the bridge of my nose), I could not face playing with bun dough.

But, I found when I awoke on the dirty floor of our garage, with blood coming out of my nose and Zak frantically shaking me, was that I had a sudden craving for nam sod.

Nam sod is a wonderful Thai salad that is supposed to be made out of minced or ground pork. It is also supposed to have only some slivers of red onion, some herbs and minced ginger and chiles in it, and is garnished with crushed peanuts. The dressing is fish sauce and lime juice, though I have had it with sugar added to it, though I prefer the flavor without the sweetness.

My version, however, is made with hand minced chicken breast, julienned snow peas and carrots in addition to the red onion, lots of finely minced ginger, garlic and chiles, and has lots of herbs and sprouts to garnish it. I also discovered on Saturday night that really sweet, ripe cherry tomatoes are absolutely to die for as a garnish.

It tastes good the way I make it, even if it is so different from the original recipe that I shouldn’t even call it nam sod. But I wouldn’t know what else to call it, so there we are.

Besides, I patterned mine off of the nam sod they had on the menu at Siam Square in Providence, Rhode Island, which to this day, is still my favorite Thai restaurant anywhere, so there is precident for some of my unorthodox presentation. They, too, used minced chicken, which I know they minced by hand, because every time I ordered it, I could hear the chef pounding away at the chicken with two cleavers to mince it up finely and quickly. It wasn’t until I was well and truly addicted to it that I found out that it is supposed to be made of pork. When I tried it with pork, I didn’t like it, so, here’s the deal–you come to my house, I make nam sod–it is made with minced up chicken, and that is the way it is.

The slivers of red onion–that is orthodox nam sod. The slivers of snow peas and baby carrots–that is classic Barbara. The cilantro (and sometimes mint, when I have it) is traditional; the Thai basil and lime peel are my own innovations. The lightly crushed peanuts belong there; the tomatoes came about because they are in season, and shimmer like little gems when cut in half and sprinkled along the dish.

They also taste fantastic.

Edible flowers such as nasturtium blossoms are not a necessity to the dish, but they sure do look pretty. Lettuce in some form, however, is required. I like to use a salad mix with as many different colors, textures and flavors of greens as possible. As shown to the left, I have a mixture of leaf lettuces with romaine, radiccio and sunflower sprouts in the serving platter. I edged the platter with lime wedges so diners can snag a wedge and add more lime to the flavor mixture as they like.

I realized as we were eating the nam sod tonight, that this is yet another recipe that I learned at the behest of a friend, who upon visiting Providence while I was in culinary school, tried it at Siam Square and fell in love with it. In order to ensure that she would get to eat it again, she entreated me to learn how to make it, so I ordered it a few times, looked up some recipes and then started experimenting in the kitchen. Eventually, I came up with the version that I make to this day, and she said she liked it better than the one she had at the restaurant.

At any rate, this is a very simple dish, and it can be dressed up or down with as many garnishes as you like. I loved the serrano chiles and cherry tomatoes in this version, and the radish sprouts really added a nice cooling zing to the moderately spicy dish.

You can also make it as hot and spicy as you like, simply by adding more Thai chiles or red curry paste to the dish. Or, you can add less.

One thing you absolutely must not skimp on is the fish sauce. You must use a lot of it. And use good fish sauce. I prefer Golden Boy brand–you can recognize it by the little laughing Buddha-bellied baby boy on the label. He is a fat, happy little guy, holding a bottle of fish sauce in one hand and giving a thumb-up sign with the other while grinning like a big ole ‘possum. You can’t miss him. At any rate, that is one of the best fish sauces on the market–it has a very light flavor, and is tangy and salty without being overpoweringly so.
If you do not have homemade curry paste in your freezer (I realize not everyone does), you can use Mae Ploy’s red curry paste. It comes in a resealable plastic tub that seems to last forever in the fridge. 

You can make this as hot or as mild as you like depending on how many Thai chiles you use, and how much red curry paste you use. This batch was pretty mild–I actually used no Thai chiles whatsoever in making it and use fresh local serranos, which were mild even for serranos, and the curry paste. 

Nasturtium blossoms make really stunning garnishes to top this recipe–especially since they taste nice and peppery, which goes well with the dish.


title: Chicken Kerala
source: BBC Food Chicken Kerala by Manju Malhi from Saturday Kitchen
recipe_hash: fc0656ce72d8c6dabf27efab593091f8
ingredient_hash: 6cec022e4862e27e18317980d2ee8b4c
link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/database/print/chickenkerala_74036.shtml
instructions:
1. Heat three tablespoons of oil in a pan and sauté the onion and chillies for three minutes.
2. Stir in the ginger, garlic, chilli powder, coriander, turmeric and salt.
3. Add the chicken and fry on a low-to-medium heat for eight minutes, until the chicken is lightly browned.
4. Tip in the tomatoes and potatoes and cook for two minutes.
5. Pour in 100ml (3½fl oz) of the coconut milk and simmer for six minutes.
6. Add the remaining coconut milk with 200ml (7fl oz) of boiling water.
7. Simmer for 10 minutes, until the potatoes are tender and the chicken is cooked.
8. In a separate pan, heat the remaining oil and add the curry leaves and shallots, if using.
9. Fry for five minutes until golden brown.
10. Sprinkle the garam masala over the stew and swirl in an extra two tablespoons of coconut milk.
11. Serve hot, garnished with fried shallots and curry leaves and basmati rice.


# ingredients

item:
stalks lemongrass–bottom 1/3 only, bottom of stalks trimmed, and outer layers stripped away–cut into three equal pieces and bruise with the back of the cleaver

ingkey:
stalks lemongrass–bottom 1/3 only, bottom of stalks trimmed, and outer layers stripped away–cut into three equal pieces and bruise with the back of the cleaver


item:
kaffir lime leaves, or the zest of two regular limes (I just cut the zest off in big pieces with a peeler to make it easier to fish out when all the flavor is gone from it)

ingkey:
kaffir lime leaves, or the zest of two regular limes (i just cut the zest off in big pieces with a peeler to make it easier to fish out when all the flavor is gone from it)


# nutrition

gramdsc1: 1 tsp
gramdsc2: 1 stick
foodgroup: Fats and Oils
desc:
MARGARINE,Regular,HARD,SAFFLOWER and Soybean (Hydrogenated and Regular) and Cottonseed (Hydrogenated)


gramdsc1: 1 envelope Swiss Miss
gramdsc2: 1 packet
foodgroup: Beverages
desc:
COCOA MIX,with  ASPT,Low Calorie, calories,Powdered,with  ADD Calcium Phosphorus,without  ADD Sodium OR Vitamin A


gramdsc1: 1 piece, cooked, excluding refuse
gramdsc2: 3 oz
foodgroup: Lamb, Veal & Game
desc:
LAMB,New Zealand,Imported,Frozen,Shoulder,Whole (ARM and Boiled),Lean only and FAT,1/8"FAT,Cooked,Braised


gramdsc1: 1 NLEA Serving
foodgroup: Sweets
desc:
KRAFT,JELLO SGR FR CK and SRV Reduced Calorie, calories Pudding, puddings and PIE FLNG VAN,with A,Powdered


gramdsc1: 1 tbsp
gramdsc2: 1 package
foodgroup: Sweets
desc:
GELATIN Dessert, desserts,DRY MIX,Reduced Calorie, calories,with  Aspartame,ADDED Phosphorus,Potassium,Sodium,Vitamin C


gramdsc1: 1 sandwich
foodgroup: Fast Foods
desc:
FAST FOODS,CHEESEBURGER,Regular,DOUBLE PATTY and BUN,with Condiment, condiments and Vegetable, vegetables


gramdsc1: 1 sandwich
foodgroup: Fast Foods
desc:
SANDWICHES and BURGERS,HAMBURGER,Large,SINGLE PATTY,with Condiment, condiments and Vegetable, vegetables


gramdsc1: 1 cup
gramdsc2: 1 tbsp
foodgroup: Fats and Oils
desc:
CREAMY Dressing,with SOUR Cream AND/OR Buttermilk and OIL,Reduced Calorie, calories,Cholesterol-free


