tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67476182933501227122024-03-17T00:24:20.449-07:00Week of Menusgood cooking for people with too much on their plateJoanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.comBlogger797125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-31613861973274534162021-02-16T23:30:00.001-08:002021-02-16T23:48:59.576-08:00Almond Toffee Mochi Cake: Finding creativity<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO8DcZ214TJOD4xDNUArI1wMOVkXpA9mwD-ay0pzRPImGJGbvQozwcXqauXP46XMaEDkBX7NKac2iukmX8CzjhFQFGSMjT1a_Z0oXzhm10i6OAeJ9go2Y5orGiGkIo7_ix8Lii354718/s2048/_MG_5068.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO8DcZ214TJOD4xDNUArI1wMOVkXpA9mwD-ay0pzRPImGJGbvQozwcXqauXP46XMaEDkBX7NKac2iukmX8CzjhFQFGSMjT1a_Z0oXzhm10i6OAeJ9go2Y5orGiGkIo7_ix8Lii354718/w426-h640/_MG_5068.jpeg" width="426" /></a></div><br />Most certainly for me, I need alone time. Quiet time. The time when there is no one looking for me, asking me a question, or quite frankly, breathing near me. And in the past near 12 months of being placed in a home with my family all day long, alone time has been really hard to find. I've tried to create that private space for myself by using noise-canceling headphones, going for walks, or even standing in line behind a mask to get inside whatever grocery store; at most I found brief relief, but I lacked the extended duration of the alone time I need. Without solitude, I feel my creativity and ability to try and make new things, whether cooking, writing, or just pure random thought, withered. I've had a long drought of creativity--the "covid period" essentially put a moratorium on my own movement in creative spaces. I filled my time with other things, most of them survival oriented, working, cooking, laundry, but the creative spaces of my mind shuttered.<p></p><p>But even as I overlooked the need to give myself time for creating, my brain would not let me deny my creative urges any longer. I stopped sleeping to buy myself moments in the morning before anyone got up that would be my own. And I discovered Saturday mornings were a beautiful time for me to do things in the kitchen, uninterrupted, and create and figure things out. Cooking is meditative for me when I am not pressured to cook for people on a schedule. When I can putter around, testing ingredient combos that live in my head, I feel the tingle of long-neglected creativity. This mochi caked topped with a delicious toffee came to me while quietly sorting ingredients in my pantry that I wanted to use. I discovered a bag of sliced almonds, boxes of mochiko that I hadn't used in nearly a year, and coconut milk. And I figured out that I could make something new and different with ingredients that were familiar friends. I texted my food buddy, who is often my sounding board when I have an idea that I think might sound weird, and her words were, "It can't hurt to try." Later, when I dropped some off for her to eat, she texted, "I had a foodgasm moment with these." </p><p>This little cake reminds me that creativity does not like to be put into the corner. My creativity longs to be nurtured, released, and allowed to roam the inner recesses of my brain, and I need to make time for it to flourish. Much of my own well-being and sense of self is directly tied to my ability to create - to write, to think, to invent, to make - and without allowing it to thrive, I do not feel in balance. My ache for quiet time is essentially the longing of my creativity to be given agency to meander freely. And I am going to do more to honor it, that space in my brain that desires to wander and think of more than what is in front of me.</p><p>If you've not made the mochi cake that is on my blog, you should definitely make that first. (Find that recipe from 2010 <a href="http://weekofmenus.blogspot.com/2010/07/mochi-cake-proof-that-being-competitive.html">here.</a>) I know many of you who read my blog have made that mochi cake many times, and this recipe is very similar but with the twist of added toffee poured onto the top, which you will bake. I've adjusted some sugar levels as I still want balance in the flavors and I think this one hits the mark. You will have to know your own oven a bit and play with baking times, but definitely go back and try again if it's not perfect. I haven't seen anything like it on any other blogs, so hopefully, this little taste of creativity will inspire you to go back and find your own.</p><div style="text-align: left;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95xwIpE9rQwP686HD3UhCsJZYGBtttEIctrf9tt71EN4d1yz2NfL09rxaY2F7jPPZywysPDaJqISmD5MirMEb8j1yh9JVMGZKr9S4fRZt3aSEhkkyzjXFxrSTiHWEx40foKTCmo_r-E4/s2048/_MG_5077.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95xwIpE9rQwP686HD3UhCsJZYGBtttEIctrf9tt71EN4d1yz2NfL09rxaY2F7jPPZywysPDaJqISmD5MirMEb8j1yh9JVMGZKr9S4fRZt3aSEhkkyzjXFxrSTiHWEx40foKTCmo_r-E4/w426-h640/_MG_5077.jpeg" width="426" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Almond Toffee Mochi Cake</span></b><br />Makes a 9x13 pan which can be cut into 32 nice pieces</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Ingredients</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Cake</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 lb box mochiko (sweet rice flour) - my preference is <a href="https://www.kodafarms.com/blue-star-mochiko-sweet-rice-flour-serving-suggestions/">Koda Farms Blue Star Mochiko</a></div><div style="text-align: left;">2 cups of sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 teaspoon salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 14 oz cans of coconut milk - not low fat</div><div style="text-align: left;">5 large eggs</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 stick of butter (1/4 cup of butter) melted and slightly cooled</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Topping</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 1/2 sticks of butter (3/4 cup of butter)</div><div style="text-align: left;">3/4 cup of brown sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/4 cup full fat coconut milk OR heavy cream</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/4 teaspoon salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 cups of sliced almonds</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Preheat oven to 350. Line a 9x13 pan with parchment paper, making sure to take the paper up the sides. (You will thank me later when the caramel is not stuck.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3_w6s48_URg-sOx16IV0IiaNKXnVRwlifMKal7e2nLh0B9LFDqs_ZihgqBuovTYbFsEiRYt9Epg8ArXzgpGNju_eiQr1pQipSeVa3CVB7I-1V7JK95aqEegcx1bRwbfh5cYmYCGiETY8/s2048/_MG_4959.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3_w6s48_URg-sOx16IV0IiaNKXnVRwlifMKal7e2nLh0B9LFDqs_ZihgqBuovTYbFsEiRYt9Epg8ArXzgpGNju_eiQr1pQipSeVa3CVB7I-1V7JK95aqEegcx1bRwbfh5cYmYCGiETY8/w213-h320/_MG_4959.jpeg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In a large mixing bowl, or in the bowl of an electric mixer (my current preference as my arms are tired) mix together mochiko flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Add coconut milk, and mix well. Add eggs and melted butter and mix on low until mixture is uniform. Make sure to scrape the bottom of the bowl to ensure the entire mixture is well incorporated.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jLA6W_JjGAMPFHLNapUDw-esNmY57PXq7i4tEU1WrAaUWx-fi_mLUGGNNvWviT2iTGdzCetg3e0jDKwauhDzEJQqy6Le-SfyzWQ1ci0yX1XX6tEFTrHgL2uJVmS5oxmfxoJy21nxSwg/s2048/_MG_4954.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jLA6W_JjGAMPFHLNapUDw-esNmY57PXq7i4tEU1WrAaUWx-fi_mLUGGNNvWviT2iTGdzCetg3e0jDKwauhDzEJQqy6Le-SfyzWQ1ci0yX1XX6tEFTrHgL2uJVmS5oxmfxoJy21nxSwg/s320/_MG_4954.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Mtn6yo7eFOANar6yrLnwWmGNlJF3fx_y7hA0nN4znPtKXlEfjA9FYNxtwr8NFoLf-ZMxMEa8t8tk6UmomrBn2xhDEMiAFZL5t-AWH7D9E7XCTTlMytsJALnnOBS-l3FTT4RR6kg1Z_k/s2048/_MG_4958.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Mtn6yo7eFOANar6yrLnwWmGNlJF3fx_y7hA0nN4znPtKXlEfjA9FYNxtwr8NFoLf-ZMxMEa8t8tk6UmomrBn2xhDEMiAFZL5t-AWH7D9E7XCTTlMytsJALnnOBS-l3FTT4RR6kg1Z_k/s320/_MG_4958.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pour batter into lined pan. Bake for 80 minutes, noting if the sides have pulled away from the pan a bit and the center is bouncy and set. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Set the cake aside to cool briefly while you make the toffee. In a medium pan add butter, sugar, coconut milk (or cream), salt, and vanilla extract. Bring to a boil and stir watching for the mixture to thicken slightly and become homogeneous, about 3 to 4 minutes. Remove saucepan from heat and add almonds and stir until all almonds are evenly coated. Immediately pour toffee mixture on top of the cake, taking care to spread and distribute almonds even across the surface of the cake. Return mochi cake to the oven, to bake for another 8-10 minutes, or until the top of the caramel is bubbly. Remove cake from oven and allow to cool in the pan for at least 45 minutes or until the topping is set.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGu9FHnQLhX1foTG1JyTCjnOT5sx2hgBsRdRq7sHKZrg96xx00qzPs275Gmw_mFm5NsdXpvCzjbKzKoCWxijOIbOotuwukFtB8IP5GhdA1sxHIB7B2-CPv3GG_ncVBlSNMydEFZJVIcE/s2048/_MG_4984.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGu9FHnQLhX1foTG1JyTCjnOT5sx2hgBsRdRq7sHKZrg96xx00qzPs275Gmw_mFm5NsdXpvCzjbKzKoCWxijOIbOotuwukFtB8IP5GhdA1sxHIB7B2-CPv3GG_ncVBlSNMydEFZJVIcE/s320/_MG_4984.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_n7kBKWp1CIy4vAHZOdNuPa0X_5wFhUDdDNUGUR32G9pJlzHk-JfKk3aEaEsEdPSMKdTSj1DJHTf2sWvxTfyiws2NsZWjAPzuMYVII-5ndtb7MArPgXQzvd1GaEjcjUyswKYlOGuViY/s2048/_MG_4988.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_n7kBKWp1CIy4vAHZOdNuPa0X_5wFhUDdDNUGUR32G9pJlzHk-JfKk3aEaEsEdPSMKdTSj1DJHTf2sWvxTfyiws2NsZWjAPzuMYVII-5ndtb7MArPgXQzvd1GaEjcjUyswKYlOGuViY/s320/_MG_4988.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHYAPcD0Hv0ktl-JY0UkUD7JI5_P11ddpmMRDDQoymhBLImaTTUdA8mYWsbxKHK6arqPfWKDLAO7VJmOfYFCitwmyZYz2-MLK6lYL5cf4ztZPJPdejK8iHWRyPdV2bRBf2HoHu39P3bM/s2048/_MG_5036.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHYAPcD0Hv0ktl-JY0UkUD7JI5_P11ddpmMRDDQoymhBLImaTTUdA8mYWsbxKHK6arqPfWKDLAO7VJmOfYFCitwmyZYz2-MLK6lYL5cf4ztZPJPdejK8iHWRyPdV2bRBf2HoHu39P3bM/s320/_MG_5036.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Taking care, lift the entire cake out of the pan using the parchment paper (watch out -this cake is HEAVY) and move onto the cutting board to slice into the desired size.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvFsCTUbnmxDZfMiCuOxh6V2CuP8tQiznUK_CbP5DUdpfBWVchvYCvppvY8GF5Z9VZqNEBM9UUI5sycZaBW-0bs_AEh106v645u-X-TMmb2ofFrpB6UVDBY_tSYC2Nf5sOdPmNnfl5gU/s2048/_MG_5056.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvFsCTUbnmxDZfMiCuOxh6V2CuP8tQiznUK_CbP5DUdpfBWVchvYCvppvY8GF5Z9VZqNEBM9UUI5sycZaBW-0bs_AEh106v645u-X-TMmb2ofFrpB6UVDBY_tSYC2Nf5sOdPmNnfl5gU/w426-h640/_MG_5056.jpeg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Enjoy!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KIxf71v9UZJFfb9G0oy8gighYd-HMelRA0uHhwLi63I/edit?usp=sharing"><i>Printable recipe </i></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0xNtbGUMnQQlERX-dsSNBImWuczvOdsLsafZubt1nwk4XtU6Qp7JCpc8qcoBq0tIvSf_2xhPv5qPAdyiw4Z7SNHp0-iOhW1pQx7z0yIa7ke4UwTI0eZgV04qu6l6JlxHjgUHzDHivgY/s2048/_MG_5062+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0xNtbGUMnQQlERX-dsSNBImWuczvOdsLsafZubt1nwk4XtU6Qp7JCpc8qcoBq0tIvSf_2xhPv5qPAdyiw4Z7SNHp0-iOhW1pQx7z0yIa7ke4UwTI0eZgV04qu6l6JlxHjgUHzDHivgY/w426-h640/_MG_5062+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little bit of something to help you create.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-46579567546599641962020-05-17T19:11:00.002-07:002021-03-17T01:10:30.854-07:00Spicy Honey Glazed Korean Rice Cakes: No Change in Scenery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSpZgSOjp2w-IdiJJe6tt4DGsuFEhQ_Unb8qnbBS72AQ3a93xLQnb_0WBDr0UlDlK4_7t1J8H4nPhBvkYV9k5j8kYxDF3ZKZIknl9uuAxYzqsoNPnsgyiEbCDUxXv4MerM3WpIt3VWkek/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSpZgSOjp2w-IdiJJe6tt4DGsuFEhQ_Unb8qnbBS72AQ3a93xLQnb_0WBDr0UlDlK4_7t1J8H4nPhBvkYV9k5j8kYxDF3ZKZIknl9uuAxYzqsoNPnsgyiEbCDUxXv4MerM3WpIt3VWkek/w640-h426/_MG_4639.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>I think one of the more eye opening aspects about our current going-on-month-three-of-being-stuck-at-home-with-the same-five-people, is the way the contained and restrained aspect of our condition has led us down new paths of confusion about the people we live with. Regularly, every night, after being deluged with the feelings and personalities of said housemates, I find myself confused, bemused, and irritated by the same people that I once felt peace, harmony, and understanding with. The good moments are still many of course, but the harder moments are so intensified in this pressure cooker of lockdown. I'm still stunned at the many moments I say WTF under my breath.<div><div><br /></div><div>And I'll be blunt - the biggest area for conflict right now in our family is the kitchen. Prior to shelter-in-place, the kitchen was my domain. No one was really home during the day and I'd get to enjoy my silent and organized kitchen, putting away the dishes and preparing for the next meal. And usually, that next meal was just dinner for a family of five. It was relaxing and therapeutic, and my kitchen felt restful and serene. I cooked meditatively, enjoying a lot of the sensory experiences as a person cooking, whether the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board, the aromatics of garlic hitting the frypan, or sight of steam rising from a hot pot of soup - all of those experiences were moments which grounded me in the kitchen and reminded me of who I am.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right now, I fight so many forces in the kitchen. The children whom I always wanted to be more independent about their own meals, suddenly prepare their own breakfasts and lunches and invade my sanctuary. The husband, who used to take two, if not three meals outside of the home, enjoys hot Korean meals three times daily in the kitchen. The feedback from these eaters has increased 100 fold, and the feedback isn't always flattering. And I feel like I spend an inordinate amount of time taking stuff and putting it away in my kitchen as the clutter on the counter is overwhelming and I feel cramped. The kids like having their snacks easily accessible and one of my daughters likes the vitamix on the counter so that she can make a smoothie for lunch. My sanctuary it is no longer - it is a place I struggle to find my own room and make sense of the disorder and chaos. Everyone unloads the dishwasher, everyone takes turns loading it - it is the same people who have always been in my kitchen but suddenly the overdose of them has changed how I feel about them and the kitchen itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I can't help to think that while I think I'm perfectly charming, amazing, and reasonable, my own family members must lie down at night and think in their heads unflattering thoughts about me as well. I'm sure I'm unreasonable from their perspectives. I'm sure I'm pretty annoying. (Heeeeeyyy...I'm super funny though.) I'm pretty sure that I'm also best in small doses, not this 24 hour, 7 days a week continual feed. Which is to say in short, we all need a bit of change in scenery.</div><div><br /></div><div>As there is no change of locations or no switching of housemates in the immediate future, I decided to change up something I could in the kitchen - take something familiar and move some ingredients and technique around to get something different. This is not your traditional Korean street food style ddukkbokki. Gone is the soup sauce, the extra spicy liquid fire with submerged chewy rice cakes within. These rice cakes are gently caramelized and coated with a spicy sauce, almost reminiscent of what you might taste on Korean fried chicken. And it is so good. Honestly, doing this familiar dish differently made me feel better about the people eating it. Even more surprising, the challenging housemates responded unexpectedly to this dish - the one who hates spicy food ate quite a bit of this one with no complaining, and the one who generally shuns Korean food ate a ton of it. I also sat and enjoyed this dish, with the housemates, appreciating the new view and the new experience in my mini-world where everything seems to be on repeat--and it was just enough of a difference to keep me sane for another day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCDaqG5NFQDkq6DFlxrSLNCn-2skl4Z50aI0D0exeCuxP-2XJP870h5p6ePCAd3VtJnIgC3Y2hBidC3qU7frjmG9_-jyh5eB0t_B0j4y5k6Z8OitBarMq-MtqKQ33WwpWzUe2Ir5UNXU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCDaqG5NFQDkq6DFlxrSLNCn-2skl4Z50aI0D0exeCuxP-2XJP870h5p6ePCAd3VtJnIgC3Y2hBidC3qU7frjmG9_-jyh5eB0t_B0j4y5k6Z8OitBarMq-MtqKQ33WwpWzUe2Ir5UNXU/w426-h640/_MG_4645.jpeg" width="426" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I offer two versions of this recipe depending on which type of rice cake you have access to.</div><div><br /></div><div>** Cooking note - the trick to getting the proper texture of this rice cake dish is to understand the condition of your rice cake. If you are lucky, and you are getting day of fresh rice cakes from your local Korean supermarket or rice cake store, then you do not need to do any preparation of the rice cake. However, if you are working with refrigerated packaged OR frozen rice cakes, taking an essential extra two steps will dramatically improve your results and make it more delicious. </div><div><br /></div><div>My grandmother taught me that soaking the rice cakes in cold water if they are coming out of the freezer or refrigerator is an essential step. It allows you to separate the rice cakes into individual pieces without damaging them and the water keeps them from drying out. If you're using refrigerated rice cakes, this only needs to take less than 15 minutes, but frozen ones could take an hour or so.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72Bg6FKq6tBTQEUgwPKuM_pBsdmVEymlDcHbxIxQYVMI4UfkRpx1x46A1hg-l2R4JLTR_xOMp3HNeL-YDgITp1iCWhO6hJLPWercuhSguomsfFHxKyKzm8r-38NRZI-Pw2QlCLvCMM_M/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72Bg6FKq6tBTQEUgwPKuM_pBsdmVEymlDcHbxIxQYVMI4UfkRpx1x46A1hg-l2R4JLTR_xOMp3HNeL-YDgITp1iCWhO6hJLPWercuhSguomsfFHxKyKzm8r-38NRZI-Pw2QlCLvCMM_M/w240-h320/IMG_5526.jpeg" title="presoaking the refrigerated rice cakes" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><font size="4">Spicy Honey Glazed Korean Rice Cakes</font></b></div><div>Serves 4-5, depending on how many rice cakes your family eats</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Ingredients</b></div><div>16 oz fresh or prepackaged Korean rice cakes (pre soaked if you are using packaged rice cakes)</div><div><br /></div><div><div>2 tablespoons soy sauce</div><div>2 tablespoons honey</div><div>2 tablespoons Korean chili pepper paste (gochujang) - I use a less spicy version</div><div>1 tablespoon chopped garlic</div><div>1 tablespoon sesame oil</div></div><div><br /></div><div>1 carrot cut into strips, similar in length to the rice </div><div>1/2 onion sliced </div><div>4-5 ounces fish cake, sliced (optional - I like the firmer Japanese style "maki" style)</div><div>1 tablespoon vegetable oil</div><div><br /></div><div>4 scallions, cut to be similar length of rice cake and carrots</div><div>crushed toasted sesame seeds</div></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Method for Pre-packaged rice cakes</b></div><div>Soak the rice cakes in water, and separate the rice cake into individual cakes. Bring a large pot of water to boil. You will be parboiling the rice cakes just before adding to the overall dish. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXuoG4PbYqDldS-Bdy4ZE7mtM9wY8SSA0F197PI3yAVQjH59-AuSIhRWrpFWIHHzRi_F7OZa_cVQy0mobNjHsfRrWNeMfNWavb_6hZTkHN-A_1aBnod41T4FjJJm6dyK3NB6N_wjWY4k/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXuoG4PbYqDldS-Bdy4ZE7mtM9wY8SSA0F197PI3yAVQjH59-AuSIhRWrpFWIHHzRi_F7OZa_cVQy0mobNjHsfRrWNeMfNWavb_6hZTkHN-A_1aBnod41T4FjJJm6dyK3NB6N_wjWY4k/s320/_MG_4601.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>In a small bowl, mix together soy sauce, honey, Korean chili pepper paste (gochujang), garlic and sesame oil. Set aside until needed.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a large non stick skillet, heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil over medium heat. Add carrots, onions, and fish cakes and cook until carrots are softened and onions are translucent and the fish cakes begin to caramelize. Turn heat to low. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Fa9TabjQqNpQNEx2CMTEbIGHgRhomahbVkFNMtzejV_XUueTJ_56GiHKWql5XWLuRAXEZMsJYHCq4u4TwXd7NOEXNayfItkRgmo9NwSbpLbruQucjLBjj5M15oL_GAI7R9ZJ2PRGeuk/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Fa9TabjQqNpQNEx2CMTEbIGHgRhomahbVkFNMtzejV_XUueTJ_56GiHKWql5XWLuRAXEZMsJYHCq4u4TwXd7NOEXNayfItkRgmo9NwSbpLbruQucjLBjj5M15oL_GAI7R9ZJ2PRGeuk/s320/_MG_4621.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>To boiling water, add rice cakes and begin stirring them. You do not want to overcook the rice cakes, but they do need a bit of time in the water to loosen up. It can take anywhere between 1-3 minutes, depending on the rice cake size, so keep a slotted spoon or sieve handy to fish out rice cakes and squeeze. It should give all the way without feeling like there is a hard core but not be mushy. (undercooking is much preferred here, as you can add water to the fry pan.) The difference between a rock hard rice cake and an overly mushy one is a matter of seconds, so watch very carefully. Test and when the rice cake just barely gives between your fingers, using a slotted spoon or sieve, add directly to the carrot onion mixture. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqa-hvIii9mCb3l5No65t5lpQHtcXptiTSJgQe__xxH81nXZ6lsksX5ULirtb5cRXia1IL-U88bph13GlVVDsls44SdmkLia7QFkCRSDLGq0kF6oqR0ByRNVrfj_AdsOYTYvQ4NwVdV0g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqa-hvIii9mCb3l5No65t5lpQHtcXptiTSJgQe__xxH81nXZ6lsksX5ULirtb5cRXia1IL-U88bph13GlVVDsls44SdmkLia7QFkCRSDLGq0kF6oqR0ByRNVrfj_AdsOYTYvQ4NwVdV0g/s320/_MG_4606.jpeg" width="320" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>Increase heat of fry pan until rice cakes sizzle and the excess water is steamed off, about 1 minute. Then add sauce mixture and and quickly incorporate sauce across all the rice cake and vegetables. Reduce heat and keep cooking sauce mixture with the rice cakes. If you need a bit of extra liquid to help coat, use a tablespoon or two of the rice cake cooking water, or regular water to help the sauce spread. Cook until sauce is reduced and coating the rice cakes, and things are caramelizing. Remove from heat and serve.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGub6Fm3YgCggGeXMopgAtJpNN8_CO30cpT-_REUFEzWqSa9-_VF9Fafe-Cz7W8zKsUAmbqVQCnf8s0OOchlxhabjU2EU-AjJfq5E3X5BHzWGkXx15EMCzOycfwfaJre-dhP9vCjkQk4Y/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGub6Fm3YgCggGeXMopgAtJpNN8_CO30cpT-_REUFEzWqSa9-_VF9Fafe-Cz7W8zKsUAmbqVQCnf8s0OOchlxhabjU2EU-AjJfq5E3X5BHzWGkXx15EMCzOycfwfaJre-dhP9vCjkQk4Y/s320/_MG_4633.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXnAh0Mt3sExhFI9WkLAjbB8bxnnUkACCH93xD8xogjnyhF_cQDHl9BRnvR4Dy35ewbskc6WRYxAWSNPSqoTITayF2UiwKtaEmlSMdtV0q396mlLp03l9T2tryMj6k8PrPYWqxjnkKTA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXnAh0Mt3sExhFI9WkLAjbB8bxnnUkACCH93xD8xogjnyhF_cQDHl9BRnvR4Dy35ewbskc6WRYxAWSNPSqoTITayF2UiwKtaEmlSMdtV0q396mlLp03l9T2tryMj6k8PrPYWqxjnkKTA/s320/_MG_4635.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div><b>Method for fresh rice cakes</b></div><div>In a small bowl, mix together soy sauce, honey, Korean chili pepper paste (gochujang), garlic and sesame oil. Set aside until needed.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a large non stick skillet, heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil over medium heat. Add carrots, onions, and fish cakes and cook until carrots are softened and onions are translucent and the fish cakes begin to caramelize. Turn heat to low. </div><div><br /></div><div>Increase heat of fry pan and toss rice cakes so they get coated with some of the oil. You may want to sprinkle one or two tablespoons of water if it seems like everything is too dry. Then add sauce mixture and quickly incorporate sauce across all the rice cake and vegetables. Reduce heat and keep cooking sauce mixture with the rice cakes. If you need a bit of extra liquid to help coat, use a tablespoon or two of water to help the sauce spread. Cook until sauce is reduced and coating the rice cakes, and things are caramelizing. Remove from heat and serve.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YfEZrUqAdPJfmGODonm3Pqg9WyodRPTxgOj9zi8wH1c/edit?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Printable recipe</a></i></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25TY8eJha0qk2YisjqWUquDOeInROhmDR3yItLXQwI4UcwDdvoaRd2tVxIEgQWkMRO2RTqE9L9_fZ2vdNkEdVN1gHHLtRrHcZda5u1Q6I8HRkm2gBkgkkKr3V0KIf7UZSd_vprGCpkBg/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25TY8eJha0qk2YisjqWUquDOeInROhmDR3yItLXQwI4UcwDdvoaRd2tVxIEgQWkMRO2RTqE9L9_fZ2vdNkEdVN1gHHLtRrHcZda5u1Q6I8HRkm2gBkgkkKr3V0KIf7UZSd_vprGCpkBg/w426-h640/_MG_4642.jpeg" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Changing things up</td></tr></tbody></table>Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-35883518802235561972020-05-14T22:01:00.001-07:002021-02-17T00:22:20.724-08:00Blueberry (or any berry) Crostata: Imperfectly Delicious<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For KSG and YKK - </div>
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I miss many people these days. Of course I can text them, call them, videoconference with them, drive by their homes and say hi, but I miss my close, in-person interactions with my loved ones. I realize how much I've taken for granted time in the presence of those whom I love. For example, my high school best friends and I usually spend our birthdays together - celebrating in my home while I cook them food that I want them to eat. We live in the same area, but our meetings are sporadic at best. However, we always manage to gather around our birthdays for a lengthy meal and catch-up session. Both of them are great appreciators of my food regardless of any mistakes I make, verbally effusive when they taste things I've made with my hands, and always happy to take whatever leftovers home to their families.<br />
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Their birthdays come in the summer, and usually we alternate between eating out or eating in, but this year, should we get to meet in person, I will insist upon a meal in my home, cooked by me. I want to sit across from these beloved faces, laugh, and do the crazy things we do when we gather in the comfort of my home. The meal will be casual, imperfect, but made more delicious simply because of the present company. Included in that meal will be birthday crostata with a candle for each of them.</div>
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If you're not familiar with a crostata, think of it as pie's hipper and more casual cousin. If pie shows up to the wedding properly attired in a dress, crostata shows up with that slightly edgy outfit that borders on almost inappropriate, but the one everyone wishes they had the guts to wear. The shape of crostata doesn't have to be perfect, and you can make a couple easily by simply doubling the dough. The dough is also forgiving - if it breaks, just smoosh it back together with no issues. If the juices from the berries ooze out, that just means that it's even more delicious and imperfect. I love it because the flavors are buttery pastry and zingy berries, barely sweetened. It is fruit forward and crust forward and ease forward. </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Blueberry (raspberry or blackberries also work) Crostata</span></b></div>
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Makes 1 crostata, which can be cut into 8 smaller portions</div>
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<b>Ingredients</b></div>
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<b>Dough</b></div>
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1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour</div>
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1 tablespoon sugar</div>
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1/2 teaspoon of salt</div>
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4 oz (1 stick) of cold butter (stick it in the freezer for 20 minutes if you can)</div>
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1/4 cup ice water</div>
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1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar</div>
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<b>Filling</b></div>
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12 oz of blueberries (a little over 2 cups) rinsed and picked over </div>
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3 tablespoons of sugar</div>
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1 teaspoon of lemon zest (or lime zest or even orange zest if you like - just zest)</div>
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2 teaspoons all-purpose flour</div>
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<b>Finish</b></div>
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1 egg, beaten (for brushing all over the crust)</div>
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1-2 tablespoons turbinado (raw) sugar</div>
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<b>Method</b></div>
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In the bowl of an electric mixer, add flour, sugar, and salt. Run mixer until all dry mixture is mixed together. </div>
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Take butter and cut into smallish chunks, and then add to mixer. </div>
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Turn mixer on lowest speed so the cold butter and the flour mixture begins to look like chunky sand. </div>
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Mix apple cider vinegar and ice water together and with the mixer on low, pour over the mixture. Allow mixture to clump together, but it should NOT look like cohesive dough. Once it has clumped together (less than a minute of mixing time), turn off.</div>
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Cut a piece of parchment large enough to fit a large cookie rimmed sheet. (Half sheet size 13X18). Pour dough crumbles into the middle of parchment and using your fingertips (the cooler part of your hand) as much as possible, begin working the dough into a cohesive single mass. Pat it gently, forming a round disk. You'll notice smears of butter on the surface and this is a good thing, because it means you'll have a nice flaky pastry. Once the dough looks like a solid round disk, take the parchment and fold it around the dough and refrigerate for 1.5 hours or overnight.</div>
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When you're ready to bake your crostata, preheat the oven to 375. Prepare filling. In a medium bowl, take sugar and citrus zest and rub it between your fingertips or with a fork. You will smell the essence of the fruit when you have released the oils. </div>
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Add flour and then toss berries into the mixture. Remove dough from refrigerator. Flour the top surface of the dough and flip it over and lightly flour the other side. Using a rolling pin, roll out the dough to rough 14" diameter. Pile berry mixture in center of dough. Using the parchment as your helper, fold the parchment over so that it pushes the dough to cover part of the berry mixture. Repeat all the way around so that the berries are framed by the dough.</div>
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Brush crust with beaten egg. Generously sprinkle turbinado sugar all over crust and on top of fruit. </div>
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Bake for 35-40 minutes, until crust is golden and the fruit is bubbly.</div>
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Remove from oven and cool and the juices settle. Serve warm or room temperature. A scoop of ice cream or whipped cream can bring this dish to new levels.</div>
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Enjoy.</div>
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jBcIZwvSx0zO46wZN4DCNnB07pJfQzmDOf9u4msZ52Q/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i></div>
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A little bit of something perfect.</div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-76113824973517045602020-05-11T23:54:00.001-07:002020-05-11T23:56:54.851-07:00Coconut Milk Marinated Chicken: Rest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I told my kids for Mother's Day that my one wish was to watch movies of my choosing with them. I refused breakfast in bed, dinner at night, elaborate presents, flowers, chocolate and instead said two movie dates were all I wanted. While they were initially relieved that my demands were so mellow, upon hearing the two movies I wanted to see, <i>Little Women </i>and <i>Knives Out, </i>they had quite a bit to say about it. "Mom - are those movies in appropriate for kids our age?" and "I don't like scary movies" and "Those old-fashioned movies are boring" and "What will we have for snacks?"</div>
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I calmly insisted on the two movies of my choosing and with some mild reluctance, the stage was set. On Mother's Day, in particular, I thought the evening was memorable. The kids did make me a simple brunch plate, but I cooked all morning in order to have dinner ready so that movie time could be bowls of <a href="http://weekofmenus.blogspot.com/2010/08/pseudo-bibimbap-when-it-is-just-way-too.html">bibimbap</a> in front of the TV, in addition to our snacks. Once I sat down, I didn't move for the next four hours. The kids brought me my dinner that I had prepared earlier, my husband (slightly confused) brought me some kimchi, and I just sat on the sofa, an immovable object sitting and eating in the same location on the sofa. And together we watched the movie, without subtitles, which turned out to be the life's dumbest mistake. The movie, with its ensemble cast, and various voices moving all over, made it challenging to focus on single voice and the plot. Add to the complexity of the movie itself, the noise of four people happily scraping their dinners into their mouths, asking questions, shouting "I'm scared" and "Who is that person married to?" repeatedly interrupted my ability to hear and I began getting frustrated. But we were all gathered, all sharing the same meal, all watching the same thing, and all focused on the same experience, which made it lovely. And, I didn't move once during that entire four hours. My children took away the dishes, the husband took out the compost, the kitchen was more or less clean, and my feet, my legs, and my arms just rested in the early evening for the first time in I don't remember how long.</div>
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I was reminded that pleasure doesn't just come from producing, which is my normal mode of thinking. I like teaching things, making things, doing things, writing things, cooking things, gardening things, and I don't like to be without "things" to do. I push myself to do those things because I do get pleasure from seeing results, products, or growth, or dishes, or words on a page. But there is also pleasure from rest, and God designed us to take a day of rest. And on this day, Mother's Day, I prepared myself for rest by planning ahead and and letting the kids know that yes, we would be resting together, and in this 4 hour space, my body relaxed, my muscles that twitched took a break, my eyes focused on something far away, and my knee and my foot didn't ache, as there was no movement to cause the ache. And muscles, tensions, worries faded for those hours, simply when I allowed my mind to wander to other places and escape its own ranting and cycle of concerns. And it was just so good.</div>
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I give my permission for this kind of rest more regularly - not just the sole Sunday of Mother's Day, but more often than once a year. All of us need to gather for this type of break more often, mothers, fathers, and children, for it is the rest that brings us the energy for the next round of activity. And this chicken dish, is just the perfect dish for that kind of rest. You marinate it the night before in a few ingredients and cook it the next day with little fuss. The resulting chicken is so tender, juicy, flavorful, and delicious (and not coconut-y) it feels like you spent a lot of time on it, when really you didn't. This chicken also needs a bit of a break (in the fridge) so you get one too. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect Easy Meal</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Coconut Milk Marinated Chicken</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">adapted from Samin Nosrat's <a href="https://www.saltfatacidheat.com/buttermilkmarinated-roast-chicken">Salt Fat Acid Heat </a></span></div>
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<b>Ingredients</b></div>
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1 whole chicken (fryer, roaster - anything between 3-5 lbs is fine)</div>
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1 13.5 can full fat coconut milk</div>
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Juice of one lemon or 2 limes</div>
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2 1/2 tablespoons salt</div>
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1 tablespoon spice rub or mix - your choice (optional- I used ras el hanut - but cumin, chili powder, paprika, curry powder would all infuse nicely - it's a faint back note, not the main flavor)</div>
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<b>Method</b></div>
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Prepare chicken by removing any gizzards from the chicken cavity. If you are a chicken stock maker, you can cut the wing tips. (I left mine on for time's sake.) In a large gallon ziploc bag, pour coconut milk, lemon/lime juice and salt. Give it a quick stir with a wooden spoon. Carefully add chicken into the bag, and give it a swirl. Seal bag, removing as much air as possible and place bag, chicken and all in a bowl. Turn it a couple of times so that coconut milk mixture gets everywhere. Put in refrigerator at least overnight. (You can turn the chicken over once or twice if you're so inclined.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_8j-zln-AhA1Q_GIuugAFZQmOr6To4wWHw6iJfaWw8cs9cASz7EU0pAFQ7wekXVEhCP5S_5iaYMFqppCwXFQKfbnGdPrZh2ZRbjAo0ZrO8dgjRaMMVqvlnjD8prc9H5KG99LG1sDOxQ/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4272" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_8j-zln-AhA1Q_GIuugAFZQmOr6To4wWHw6iJfaWw8cs9cASz7EU0pAFQ7wekXVEhCP5S_5iaYMFqppCwXFQKfbnGdPrZh2ZRbjAo0ZrO8dgjRaMMVqvlnjD8prc9H5KG99LG1sDOxQ/w320-h213/_MG_4303.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The next day, an hour before you want to cook your chicken (<b>and it takes about an hour to cook, so two hours before you plan to eat</b>) remove your chicken from the fridge, and remove it from the marinade. Let the marinade drip off, and place the chicken on a shallow roasting pan or cast iron skillet. Discard marinade. If you are able and skilled, truss your chicken to keep the legs and wings from splaying out and cooking too quickly. (Watch how <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpSPfuJQVOA">here</a>.) Let chicken sit at room temperature for a total of an hour. </div>
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While your chicken is coming to room temperature, preheat your oven to 425. After chicken has been at room temperature for an hour, place chicken in oven, legs facing the back and breast facing the front. Let it cook for 20 minutes, and then REDUCE oven temp to 400. Allow to cook for another 20-30 minutes, testing for doneness with a thermometer inserted into the thigh, and not touching the bone. Temperature should be 165. IF you do not have a thermometer, don't fret. You can use a knife and carefully cut the lower thigh and see if the juices run clear. If not, cook another 10 minutes. </div>
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When chicken is finished, remove from oven and let it rest for about 10 minutes at room temperature before cutting. Cut into desired pieces (or just rip with your hands if you're not feeling a carving type of dinner). It can easily be eaten with a salad and potatoes, or with rice and vegetables. I served it with fresh bread with butter and sauteed greens.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpmoVjCzkwc_fWeb0fsXGJbdbG3LUDKqkVwMn9KrBCONzA0tXgjVyEwpQBpEJFqwBNQ-Sl-wtWGgOc8NCShUsugYnQyl_jvl-a8ZVzAV-cH3ek-FlZ3MuAHDacrLt9OzG_ZcSXuNGz10/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpmoVjCzkwc_fWeb0fsXGJbdbG3LUDKqkVwMn9KrBCONzA0tXgjVyEwpQBpEJFqwBNQ-Sl-wtWGgOc8NCShUsugYnQyl_jvl-a8ZVzAV-cH3ek-FlZ3MuAHDacrLt9OzG_ZcSXuNGz10/s320/_MG_4316.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ajTm-5qd-5lKbfcbJDRZaxTYF1oFFBy0h-Q3eRxH1Yg/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RGhIkwIs1BXuR64SAbHYyiKtTIl4C_Gr4ecOv5rRBW-JRxwaniUGaYeiJI7pVmsF5_c_vbgWUsJq0UyTZDPYsDTtRouBj0P-dIV7X5_GkGxd9uVZMk6CLp0lBVFzIbjh4vb0bdgTBcw/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RGhIkwIs1BXuR64SAbHYyiKtTIl4C_Gr4ecOv5rRBW-JRxwaniUGaYeiJI7pVmsF5_c_vbgWUsJq0UyTZDPYsDTtRouBj0P-dIV7X5_GkGxd9uVZMk6CLp0lBVFzIbjh4vb0bdgTBcw/w426-h640/_MG_4395.jpeg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for the family</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlD7P3nc5dNbmv43c7GQ-pbJiu45qVPYrI7MpQsHfCfR27WTKKAYC-u5MincSV-ug4PW27iIJ_hdkY9XITbddA3mZnWsJTPXy6UoT4ySGOG8dqDaaNL1AfHd9yRamJpTwleFbF6yDMJqY/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2848" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlD7P3nc5dNbmv43c7GQ-pbJiu45qVPYrI7MpQsHfCfR27WTKKAYC-u5MincSV-ug4PW27iIJ_hdkY9XITbddA3mZnWsJTPXy6UoT4ySGOG8dqDaaNL1AfHd9yRamJpTwleFbF6yDMJqY/w426-h640/_MG_4406.jpeg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For me</td></tr>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-19626109192948082142020-05-06T01:09:00.000-07:002020-05-06T08:13:59.602-07:00Glazed Lemon Tea Cake: Overcoming pain (College Essay Series)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JzoiFGIQ2T86iZdvV45ljKSuHG8zz0xOov20Qr_l4Z_BwPApiQZv2ZiXStyriIqmdwXogH0tlW6lWQYgbegSLI3ca0x0HMergBi1xLK_QYFjWclEF3KDVq0l-xzoM6PTyQmYxbojOvc/s1600/_MG_4051+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JzoiFGIQ2T86iZdvV45ljKSuHG8zz0xOov20Qr_l4Z_BwPApiQZv2ZiXStyriIqmdwXogH0tlW6lWQYgbegSLI3ca0x0HMergBi1xLK_QYFjWclEF3KDVq0l-xzoM6PTyQmYxbojOvc/s640/_MG_4051+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
* Names have been changed to protect the student's identity and she has granted me full permission to use her essays.<br />
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The students who most benefit from writing their application essays are those who are willing to risk it all on paper. The ones who can stare into their past histories and convert them into chains of connected words, whether beautiful experiences or heart-wrenching challenges, are the ones who gain the most during the flood of sentences over several months. Of course, some students check boxes and look for a quick exit out of the application process itself, but for the many who try and use the process as more than a "to-do list" and seek understanding of themselves and their experiences, there are untold gains of character and inner strength.<br />
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Sadie was such a student. I had met her a couple of times before she started high school, and back then she was reserved, demure almost, but looked comfortable in her own skin. The Sadie who showed up at the beginning of her senior year was very different - she was womanly but with a guarded presence, and almost distrust in her face. When she entered my office to start, she immediately announced, "I want to write about my sexual assault."<br />
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Since I was completely unfamiliar with the case, I first asked if she was safe, if she had reported it, if her parents were aware, and what the status was with the perpetrator. I wanted to make sure that her own ability to pursue whatever need to be done wouldn't be jeopardized by hesitation or someone talking her out of it. She listed the cold hard facts of the case, a friend who had assaulted her, the multiple occasions, her own attempts to address it, and finally the end of the road for her ability to pursue legal action: she was talked out of it by the police as they stated her case was so low profile, the perpetrator could hire lawyers and rip Sadie's life into little pieces in front of the court. The police told her that pursuing legal action would make what was a private incident into a much larger public one. Sadie chose to drop the case and walk away.<br />
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In her retelling, her voice was full of bitterness and anger, and the verbal expression of what she wanted to discuss signaled to me that her essay was going to go through many iterations, if only for Sadie to begin processing. She showed me an early draft of her writing, and it was scattered, emotional, angry, raw--all understandable, but all too unprocessed for the actual writing required. I told her to go at it another time, another brand new draft, focusing on the aftermath of the incident instead of the lead up to the incident.<br />
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Several drafts were full of emotions, and while the actual incident was the same one, by shifting lenses on the narrative, I was able to help Sadie bring out the different notes of what the final essay might be. In a particularly challenging version of her essay, she pointed out the different ways the cultural expectations had perhaps fueled and encouraged the behavior which eventually led to the assault. Upon reading this version, I asked her, "Do you think you are to blame for what happened to you?" And her response was that family had made her feel that she was responsible. We took time to write a response to that emotion, to address it on paper, to grapple with culture that often blamed women for everything. I also shared with her my own challenges with my culture, some of the challenges that I had experienced as an Asian female. And in doing so, I explained, "The roles do not have to be defined by your culture or your past experiences. You can redefine them."<br />
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After she wrote through the onslaught of bitterness, Sadie's writing began to change. She allowed herself to examine her own experiences, not through the lens of her attacker, but rather through her own. She began shifting the essay's tone from recrimination and finger pointing at her assaulter, and moved it towards understanding of her own value and self worth. And I will say it has far less to do with anything specific I said, but far more about the effort she put into exploring the experiences. In some meetings, her words brought me to a fraught edge of tears, only because the agony in many ways was palpable and inherently relatable as a woman. But during those moments, I was keenly aware that the tone was shifting in her essays, and it was towards her strength to examine the full spectrum of emotions, not just the obvious ones.<br />
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"The next day, I walked into the wellness counselor’s room and I poured out seven months of anger, shame, pain, and humiliation. At the end, she asked me if I was prepared to report him. It had taken 213 days, but I was ready. A week later, I was at the Family Violence Intervention Center, painstakingly recalling every time, place, and way I had been violated. After months of staying silent, I found it within myself to be brave and speak my truth. I discovered my capacity to act on my own behalf and make difficult choices. But while this empowered me, it also showed me how truly alone victims are.
When I stood up, my best friends told me they could not pick me over my assaulter because I was a girl. When I stood up, my mother claimed I played a role in my being assaulted. When I stood up, my school did nothing to protect me from seeing my assaulter everyday. When I stood up, the police told me I could not discuss what had happened to me. When I stood up, people at my school labeled me as a fragile, pathetic victim. When I stood up, I felt more alone than I ever had before. But then people began to stand with me when I least expected it. Two girls, also sexual assault victims, reached out when I needed it most. They stood with me and I was no longer alone. They validated my experiences, showing me I was someone worth protecting, that I should never regret my decision to stand up for myself. And then more people began to stand with us.
I know first hand the tremendous isolation sexual assault victims face. But I’ve also been fortunate to experience both being uplifted by those around me and made proud to be a survivor, a privilege not given to everyone, especially for those who choose to stay silent."<br />
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In an unexpected turn of events, a few months later, Sadie had additional opportunities to write about this same experience, allowing her to further hone her own understanding and process own development, and she was surprised to discover her own strength, something I encouraged her to write about, time and time again. In one exercise I asked her to remove all the emotion of the experience, and simply focus on the the events, as if in a timeline, and push through to the aftermath--doing so developed an entirely different essay in tone, one that acknowledged the horror of the events but without the filter of emotions; instead, this essay pushed Sadie to realize how far she had come, and how resilient she was. In her final thank you card to me, she wrote "But you helped me find myself and my voice, something I will never forget or take for granted."<br />
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I do not intend to minimize the impact of sexual violence against women, nor do I propose that merely writing about it is the way to recover and heal all wounds. But for Sadie, her movement out of the trauma came from being fearless in confronting it in the written form, experienced through really digging within and writing her college application essays. By focusing on the process behind the final essay, real growth can emerge. It's not a complicated proposal really, but rather a simple request to return to making writing honest and worthy of its writer, and not just on the "dream" name brand college.<br />
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And so this cake, is also simple, and honest. Its flavors are few - lemon, butter, sugar, but the straightforward combination is delicious.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Lemon Tea Cake </span></b><br />
Makes 1 loaf, serving 6-8 people<br />
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<b>Cake </b><b>Ingredients </b><br />
2 cups cake flour (250 grams) (note - if you're not weighing, the most accurate method of getting close to the correct weight is to fluff the flour up with a spoon, and then delicately spoon it into a measuring cup and then carefully taking a knife across the top to even it out. DO NOT PACK)<br />
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (3 grams)<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder (5 grams)<br />
1 3/4 sticks of butter, softened (14 tablespoons or 200 grams)<br />
1 cup sugar (220 grams)<br />
Zest of two lemons<br />
2 eggs<br />
1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice<br />
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<b>Icing Ingredients</b><br />
3/4 cup powdered sugar (100 grams)<br />
1 tablespoon of lemon juice (20 grams)<br />
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<b>Method </b><br />
Preheat the oven to 330 or 325 if you have an old fashioned oven. Line a loaf pan with parchment paper or grease loaf pan well.<br />
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In a medium bowl, stir together cake flour, salt, and baking powder. Set aside.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, or in a large mixing bowl, mix together sugar and softened butter. Mix until sugar is mixed well throughout the better. Add lemon zest. Add eggs one at a time. Mix until the egg is also well incorporated. Add half the flour mixture and mix on low. Add all the lemon juice and mix on low. Finish with the remaining flour mixture and mix on low until mixture is uniform. It will be a little stiff.<br />
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Move mixture into loaf pan. Smooth out the top as best you can, and then put in the oven. Bake for 60-70 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean.<br />
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For the prettier more refined look, you can do what I did in the photos which is to slice off the puffy top of the cake, and then flip it over so that you ice the bottom of the rectangle so that it looks modern and refined. You do lose quite a bit of cake this way, and while the scraps are delicious, sometimes this is extra finicky and you do not need to do this. Alternatively, simply pour the icing all along the top of the loaf, and allow to run down the sides and set. Slice and serve. Best day of, but if you like to save it, wrap it tightly in saran wrap.
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<a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1T_nTKb5trxQ2pVkcVYbmkMJu-M86dcIFkfsHo8eFNyo/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a><br />
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Simple. Honest. True.</div>
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-25069978198237757232020-04-26T23:18:00.003-07:002020-04-26T23:18:56.878-07:00White Fish in Dashi: Renaissance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's strange, but while looking around at this surreal and unusual time we are living in with shelter in place protocols, quarantines, and the fear of an unseen enemy, I see creativity. I am a bit in awe at the ability of people to find ways to express themselves, despite restrictions. Artists, musicians, writers, who all sharpen the respective tools of their crafts, have been producing works and joyful creations to share with all of us who are locked at home. While in quarantine, I've had the opportunity to read a novel written by one of my friends, listen to the beautiful pieces of Yo-yo Ma who plays "Songs of Comfort" on his Facebook account; I've seen beautiful art and photography, and watched so many people attempt sourdough bread. (I have also attempted sourdough bread.) My own writing has suffered, as lack of time has pushed my personal focus of writing way off to the sidelines, but I've dabbled in a bit of poetry, and am trying to blog again.<br />
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But I've also experienced a bit of my own renaissance, or rebirth, in cooking. Because I have spent a lot of time in past months focusing on meals that I can quickly produce with consistency, I will be the first to admit my experimentation has been low, and I've relied on steady dishes that have performed well. But with additional meals to prepare for the family (lunch AND dinner), I've found a certain curiosity of foods that I would not have made for before brewing inside of me. Different flavors, different preparations all are able to be handled and considered as potential meals for my family. I've tried making homemade noodles, my own bread, gnocchi, and the kids also ask for new items every day. "Mom, do you think you can make pasta from scratch?"<br />
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And while this rebirth results in a lot more dishes to clean every day, I've found a certain re-interest in cooking again. And in doing so, have been reminded that as with most things, growth comes from being challenged. Anytime we try the unfamiliar, there are pitfalls and problems and unexpected results that can easily deter us from continuing. But true growth comes from the willingness to confront the thing that is hard and practice it. It is in the practice of cooking, the work towards mastering a dish, that ultimately brings the dish closer to our hearts and our stomachs, in both ease and consumption. So while I've just tried gnocchi once, I know that to get better at it, I must do it again and again, and probably a couple more times than that. I've gotten it into my head to truly master sourdough bread baking, and to do that means there is a LOT of bread baking in my house. To date, I've made twenty-two loaves of sourdough bread on consecutive days, and tomorrow have another two loaves ready to go to bake in the morning. I will tell you that the loaves look weird, but my kids enjoy them, and I'm also happy to quickly turn them into croutons should the whole thing not work out well. Bread making has turned out to be a pretty big rabbit hole and I'm Alice in Wonderland not ready to come out.<br />
<br />
While bread baking is a crazy long and involved endeavor, I will say there are other dishes that just require a few rounds of practice before they feel comfortable. Some of the practice is in the preparation of the dish itself, and some in the cookery, but none of it overwhelming to the point where it cannot be completed. I sought a light dish, using lots of vegetables and a little bit of fish to refresh and nourish me since I had been nourishing myself on a lot of bread in recent days. I love this fish dish as it is subtle in all of its flavors, yet satisfying to the stomach.<br />
<br />
<b>White Fish in Dashi</b><br />
Serves 4-6 (depending on your eaters and the size of your fish)<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients</b><br />
9 cups of water<br />
1 large piece of konbu (about the size of your forearm)<br />
1/2 cup bonito flakes<br />
10 scallions<br />6-8 heads of bok choy (other leafy greens like spinach would work)<br />
4-5 mushrooms - any type your choice (optional)<br />
1-1.5 lbs halibut or other mild meaty white fish<br />
1-2 tablespoons soy sauce, more if needed<br />
Sesame oil to finish the broth (will put a few drops in each bowl)<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
In a pot large enough to hold 9 cups of water, add water and konbu. Simmer over low heat.<br />
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While konbu is boiling, prepare vegetables. Chop scallions - the white part more finely, and green part can be bigger and less fine. Separate leaves of bok choy so they can float as individual leaves in the broth. If you're using, slice mushrooms into desired shape.<br />
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After the konbu has simmered for 20 minutes, turn off heat, and sprinkle bonito flakes all over the surface of the stock. Let the flavor steep. (alternatively, if you have a great dashi stock - I like the ones by <a href="https://usa.kayanoya.com/kayanoya-original-dashi-stock-powder.html?gclid=EAIaIQobChMItNzgzu2H6QIVAtvACh32mQvDEAAYASAAEgJgI_D_BwE">Kayanoda </a> which are pricey comparatively, but the flavor is amazing, you can use that in lieu of making the konbu and bonito mixture.)<br />
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Cut your fish into individual portions and carefully dry the tops of the fish. Sprinkle tops with sea salt. This will be the side you lay down in the fry pan so that it browns.<br />
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Heat a fry pan (nonstick makes things easier) over medium high heat. Add oil and once hot, add fish, salted side side and press gently with a spatula to facilitate even browning. You will only cook the fish on one side, so watch the sides of the fish to see when it gradually becomes opaque. Even if the top isn't fully cooked, once the sides are fully opaque and no longer pink, turn off heat and set aside.<br />
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Strain broth into a pot that can hold the vegetables you have prepared. (You are welcome to finely julienne the fully rehydrated konbu if desired, as another textural addition to the soup.) Season with a tablespoon of soy sauce. f it needs more, add a bit until the broth is seasoned to your liking. Bring broth to a low simmer. Add whites of the onions, bok choy, and mushrooms. After they have softened, add the green onions.<br />
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Place the hot broth and a mixture of vegetables into each bowl, and flip a piece of fish so that the white unseared side sits in the hot broth. If necessary, top with a bit more broth. The brown seared side should be on top.<br />
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Finish with a few drops of sesame oil in each bowl. Serve immediately.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1eGmb98outyuaPp_2mDoIZKTXRxoq0eIygfsNsBW-tfs/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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its own bit of beauty</div>
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-41719124392602638622020-04-03T22:27:00.000-07:002020-04-27T00:09:57.354-07:00Chicken Leek Rice Soup: The loss of self<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I try and wake up early so I have the house to myself in the morning, even if only for a brief moment. Since my kids are definitely not abiding by normal business hours, I find it hard to live my life within normal business hours. Everything is confused and mixed up, and I can’t seem to get a handle on the pure basics of running life - while the schedules in the old model allowed me to control what was happening, the new model means I have absolutely no control over anything. In fact, my kids are in control of their own schedules, deciding what they are doing, making their plans with friends to meet online, going to long-distance school, and finding ways to disrupt what I consider to be a normal schedule, and this is happening with my own work/handle-everything-in-the-house schedule. My husband has specific set conference calls at certain times, which means that is also part of the equation of things I have to make time for, and all in all, the sheer number of activities, while in essence should feel reduced, actually feels exponentially increased to me, because all the schedules are happening right in front of my face and it slaps me around all day long.<br />
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So the early morning, before anyone wakes up, is my sacred time. I get sometimes 30 to 45 (60 is a gift) minutes of quiet time - all my time, in my home where all other bodies sleep. It’s a period where other people’s schedules are not being reported to me, no one is asking me for the day’s meal plan (it’s the same folks - breakfast, help yourself, lunch, eat leftovers, dinner, I’ll make it.) And in the old model, I would have yelled at everyone to hurry and wake up so we can get going; in this new model, I tiptoe, pour my coffee quietly like a mouse, and pray no one wakes up until I’ve had a few moments of silence alone. What I’m seeking is solitude - silence - alone time, even perhaps a moment to feel lonely. I need a moment to recharge, a moment to feel only me and who I am, not defined by the strictures of fight breaker-upper, piano-practice-maker, food-cooker, laundry-doer, vacuum-er, dishwasher, but just to be me.<br />
<br />
And like so many of you, cooking has become this very crazy insane burden. I feel the same. The day in and day out repetition of providing meals that people want to eat with no immediate end in sight hurts my head. But I also realize that I still love cooking - I just don't love it when I'm fighting all the schedules and the demands, and my kids are gathering their needs in the kitchen, trying to figure out what they are going to eat. It's not enjoyable when they protest about the decision I've made or if they are making different requests from what I'm working hard to prepare. They are also noisy, moving in and out of the space, leaving cabinets open, banging the drawers, so that I have no ability to move smoothly and efficiently in motions that I happen to enjoy.<br />
<br />
My solution is to cook in the early morning, prep and organize as much as I can before anyone shows up, and then evacuate once they all show up and take over. It's cooking where I find my peace and and have the ability to control things--even making decisions that no one can argue with like how-many-shallots-I-put-in-the-soup feels somehow soothing. There is no jostling of me while I'm chopping, the sounds are all rhythmic and restful, and even the sizzle of the pan when I throw in the vegetables just makes me feel rested.<br />
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This soup is great for that - there is just the right amount of organized chopping to soothe your spirits, the right bit of sizzle when things hit the hot pan, tons of flexibility in how you time and pace the cooking, and uses some standard pantry staples to get you through. It happens to be a favorite of my husband who doesn't appreciate any soups with potatoes or legumes in them, so this one fits the bill perfectly. The longer you leave it waiting, the more the rice absorbs the broth and becomes thicker. You can thin it out with more liquid, but there is something satisfying about a thick soup that sticks to your ribs.<br />
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There will be some silence as your family appreciates this soup. You're welcome.<br />
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*homemade stock is great, but if you don't have it, don't worry. This soup is super forgiving and just use whatever you have at home.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Chicken Leek Rice Soup </span></b><br />
Serves 4-6<br />
Adapted from <a href="https://smittenkitchen.com/2020/03/chicken-leek-and-rice-soup/">Smitten Kitchen</a><br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
2 tablespoons olive oil<br />
2 or 3 leeks, halved, thinly sliced, and washed really well (I like slicing and chopping them and throwing them in my salad spinner and letting all the sediment sink to the bottom and then rinsing and repeating until no more sediment)<br />
2 or 3 celery ribs, finely chopped<br />
2 or 3 shallots, finely chopped<br />
2 or 3 garlic cloves, minced<br />
6 cups stock - vegetable or otherwise (or at least 3 cups of chicken stock and the remainder water - 6 cups liquid - but the better the liquid, the better the soup)<br />
1 pound boneless, skinless breast<br />
1/2 cup arborio rice (or any that you have to use up)<br />
fresh parsley or other fresh herb<br />
spice choice - chili pepper flakes, black pepper, or harissa paste (which is what I used)<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
Sprinkle chicken breast all with salt. Set aside until needed.<br />
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Heat olive oil in a large heavy pot. Add leeks, celery, shallots, and a nice teaspoon of salt and a good sprinkle of pepper. Cook 4-5 minutes until the leeks have wilted and softened. Add garlic and cook a minute or two more. Add stock/liquid all at once. Season again with another teaspoon of salt. Bring to a boil.<br />
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<b>Cook and pause method </b>(the method I use when I want to prepare as much as possible before the kids wake up)<br />
Add chicken and bring soup back to a boil. Cover and remove from heat and let chicken slow poach in hot soup for at least 30 minutes, but longer if needed. (This is where you can wake your family up to do stuff) After at least 30 minutes, remove chicken from soup and shred or chop into desired pieces. Bring soup back to a boil and add rice all at once, and cook until rice is tender. Add chicken back to soup. Taste and adjust seasonings. (May need more salt and pepper depending on the saltiness of your original liquid base.)<br />
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<b>Cook straight through method</b><br />
Add chicken and bring back to a boil. Simmer chicken in broth for 15 minutes, until cooked through. Remove chicken breasts from soup and add rice. Shred or cut up chicken while rice cooks, and then return chicken back to soup. Taste and adjust seasoning. (Check for salt and pepper needs.)<br />
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Serve hot with fresh herbs, chili pepper sprinkled on top.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1puThvA5uixhrCkbiVO_Wut62xriumCm_HuCVzTKqbuY/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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Before they wake... </div>
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Vase and bowl: <a href="https://www.heathceramics.com/pages/tabletop-kitchen">Heath Ceramics</a></div>
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Tray: <a href="https://www.shop-foglinen.com/search?q=trays&type=product">Shop Fog Linen</a></div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-34469098714043316562020-03-31T09:17:00.000-07:002020-04-27T00:03:12.449-07:00Chocolate Chip Banana Chip Cookies: Virtual Food Fight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today marks two full weeks of California's shelter-in-place order. And in comparison to many others in California who have encountered major struggles in conjunction with complying with the order, I have had it relatively easy. Our home is comfortable and spacious enough to hold two working-from-home adults and three teenagers kids in distance learning, and while our internet bandwidth could use a major boost, we are connected to the internet. We also have Netflix, a video game console with some fun family games, puzzles. We eat well, as I am cooking more meals than I have ever cooked in a concentrated period in my life. I have requested that the kids handle their own breakfasts, and lunches are a mix of leftovers or simple-to-gather foods from the fridge (the rule is you must gather from the fridge) and dinners are family affairs. We are lucky and blessed, and I rarely forget that as I move through my day. My family is with me, and we are whole. We are cranky at times, but generally, we are whole.</div>
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But even my introverted self is missing some of my daily fun interactions with my closest friends and neighbors. I will say that while I do not see my friends from my daily life, we make more time for crazy texting and group Facetime or Zoom meetings. And humor. Lots of humor. We send back and forth quips, the funniest situations from our life (one of my good friends is raising a puppy, and her stories of puppy-mom-in-quarantine are pretty hilarious), the toilet paper we are counting, the curse words we are swallowing, the food we are burning through, and one afternoon it was the pantry "Would you eat this?" game. One of my friends had time to dig into her pantry and began sending us some pictures of expiration dates and whether we would eat it or not. For the most part, we all said eating the foods were fine, which pretty much gave our friend a lot more cake mixes to bake. Then we had another series of texts and pictures for the next game, "Can you use this?" which featured unopened food items from one house to see if it would be used in another. I'm not one to turn down ingredients, so during that game I won banana chips and arborio rice. (No takers for the boar sausage though.) The banana chips ended up on my doorstep the next morning. My husband went out to the front to take a call, and came in with a quizzical look on his face and a package of organic banana chips in his hand, asking, "Uh - did you leave these banana chips outside?" (For the record, I don't know if I've ever just had banana chips in the house.) </div>
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So this cookie is a cookie of adjustment, survival, give-and-take. Not one of us is leaving this period of pandemic unscathed - it will touch us in ways yet unseen. But in all the small ways, I'm pushing to remind myself of the lessons we will learn - resilience, flexibility, and joy in all circumstances. This cookie -- it's not a normal chocolate chip cookie, as it is not born of normal times -- but it is tasty and has some unusual items, which are easily substituted by other items you may have lurking in your pantry. DO NOT go out to purchase anything - simply use what you can and see what you can make. Creativity is often born from limits, so try your best to adapt what you have to make this cookie. It is best enjoyed slightly underbaked, so you end up with a slightly gooey center when warm, and a soft cookie when cool. (My wonderful neighbors got to enjoy it this way.)</div>
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The recipe makes a lot (because I created it to use up a huge bag of banana chips) but they are the perfect cookie to bag up and send to friends to let them know you are thinking of them. (Use safe food handling practices, including washing hands very carefully; if you are sick, don't make these for others.) To my people, I'm missing you much.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Banana Chip Chocolate Chip Cookies</span></div>
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Makes 6 dozen</div>
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<b>Ingredients</b></div>
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3 cups all purpose flour</div>
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1 cup wheat germ OR 3/4 cup ground up oats (toast in the oven at 350 for 5 minutes)</div>
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1 teaspoon baking soda</div>
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1 teaspoon baking powder</div>
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1 teaspoon kosher salt</div>
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1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened</div>
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1 cup brown sugar</div>
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1 cup white sugar</div>
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3 eggs</div>
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2 cups banana chips, roughly chopped (or coconut chips, or nuts, or some other type of dried fruit would work here)</div>
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2 cups chocolate chips (I used just some basic semi-sweet ones, but milk, white, or bittersweet all work. Mix it up if you like)</div>
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<b>Method</b></div>
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Preheat oven to 375.</div>
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In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, wheat germ (or ground oatmeal), baking soda, baking powder, salt. Set aside.</div>
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In a large bow, or in a mixer with the paddle attachment, cream together butter and both sugars until well incorporated. Add eggs, one at a time, scraping down the side of the bowl, but beating until each egg is just incorporated. Add flour mixture in two parts, and then add banana chips and chocolate chips. Mix until everything is just incorporated. </div>
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Drop heaping tablespoons of dough 2 inches apart onto a cookie sheet. Gently flatten down the tops of the dough mounds so they spread a bit during baking. Bake for 7-8 minutes, until lightly golden on the top and bottom. Cool on the sheet for 2 minutes, and then transfer to racks to cool. </div>
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If you over bake them, you'll lose the mild gooeyness and the cookies will be crunchier (but still tasty).</div>
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<a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/11NAIWs9XK3BbEwSUmjnsTg1zoqu4xUhGRpNXFyFpmlg/edit?usp=sharing"><i>Printable recipe</i></a></div>
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Waiting to enjoy these with my friends.</div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-29385839753179844052020-03-26T10:50:00.003-07:002020-04-27T00:12:36.286-07:00The Dystopian Life in the Age of Covid-19<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As a reader of books, I never loved dystopian literature. I always found myself feeling very uncomfortable and at odds with what happened in the book. Whenever the normal life in books veered off into a twisted form of reality, my guts and insides convulsed with the plot When firemen burned books Ray Bradbury's <i>Fahrenheit 451, </i>I felt stories I had read in the past had to be preserved in my memory. When Aldous Huxley's <i>Brave New World</i> was in my hand, I couldn't wait to finish it and throw it somewhere far away, for the cold, technology-driven society scared me. Even a dystopian book meant for a younger audience, Lois Lowry's <i>The Giver, </i>forced me to confront my own desire for a life where I did not need to make any choices. All these books, while challenging me, also forced me to examine realities and problems in my own life.<br />
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I texted a good friend of mine, "I do not recognize this dystopian world I am living in." He responded, "It's a shit show." And in this dystopian world where we physically distance ourselves, do not leave our homes, and do our work, our school, our exercise, our entire lives within four walls, I find much awkwardness and discomfort. And like with the books I have read in the past, I have been trying to figure out from where does my discomfort stem? I've been challenged by the overwhelming presence of many children in my home, all demanding food, clothing, and help at various times of the day. My husband's work from home means he also needs food, but his schedule doesn't always align with the rest of the family's. My students all want help with their work, as they struggle with their online coursework, and seek support from me. My friends and I complained and joked with one another about the additional work and burdens shifted upon us during this time. Gone was our freedom to go and do what we pleased. The ability to go to a restaurant and eat on a whim? Haircuts? Spontaneous, needless Target runs? And I am not the only one profoundly affected - everyone else around me feels that same discomfort.</div>
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This narrowing of my world, to be isolated and kept at home, to lose many of the freedoms I'm used to and have taken for granted is the source of my discomfort. I am supposed to be able to live my life, and explore and see the world, and see everything and do whatever I want. It's pretty much what everyone thinks about - the freedom they have left behind before COVID-19 changed our ability to do so. Our doors to our utopia have been shut and we've been locked in for this dystopian version of our lives.</div>
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But in the best dystopian literature, there are the characters who seek to disrupt the nature of dystopia, to try and incite change. These characters try, in whatever ways they can, to bring about a new order, a new sense of governance, and build a different stability. Sometimes, many times, those efforts fail, but then there are those moments of those characters who do make some efforts towards change and illuminate a future of improvement.<br />
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So I have begun my own thinking about how to move towards an improved future. If this strangeness of separation is to last, I need to figure out not only how to survive it, but also how to make it better than what I had before - perhaps an overly idealistic and fantastical idea, but the bigger goals are the ones worth striving for. I haven't fully fleshed out my own plans for an improved future, as I'm struggling with the day to day management of so many people in the house who want to eat all the time, but I have had some thoughts and partially fleshed out ideas. Some of them are little things, while others bigger, more abstract concepts. And as I sit here locked up, I try to move towards one or more of them. These are some of my half-ideas, listed in no particular order.<br />
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<b>1. Growing food</b>. I dabbled with it last year - and I killed a lot of plants, but also enjoyed eating quite a few crops (I'm really really good at lettuce.) It taught me how precious food is though - how much work goes into growing and harvesting and keeping my vegetables growing. I'm repeating the exercise this year. My landscaping is still not done, so the garden is temporary, using gro-bags, which incidentally are often what marijuana growers use, so I'm in great company! Even with a tiny balcony, or small patio, you can set up an experimental garden. Here are the grow bags, in the size I like. One 15 gallon grobag supports 5-6 lettuce seedlings quite well, and lettuce happens to be amazingly easy to grow, and tremendously satisfying. (Link to <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VWU37QG/ref=as_li_ss_tl?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&linkCode=ll1&tag=weeofmen-20&linkId=c636e98fb9da50cb0a226623c1d0e004&language=en_US">grobags</a>.)<br />
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<b>2. Being present for my family.</b> Usually being busy is one of my FAVORITE activities - I love the push on my schedule, the feeling of stress of trying to accomplish as much as possible in a single day. I generally don't sleep enough - and the end result is I'm not that present for my family. I've discovered a lot of interesting things about my family recently - one of us has horrible table manners, another one of us can't sing in key, a third seems to think that getting up in the middle of dinner to demonstrate a dance is appropriate, another enjoys her secret stash of candy hidden in plain sight. Our mealtimes during this dystopian reality have suddenly become meals of all five of us gathered at the same time; before the schedule didn't allow. I've discovered I really enjoy watching my family eating the food I've made, and there is a powerful sense of ownership when I look around and know that my food fuels these humans. My friend and I have a working <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1g9Nm7AVGbdnf_sFBXuAye9jm22Jl4CrUdZfQ9ALL_Hg/edit?usp=sharing">meal plan</a> - so together we can see what the other is eating and just force ourselves to plan, and all of this helps me focus on them.<br />
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<b>3. Writing my book</b>. I have a book idea. I've had a book idea for a while. And I've told myself I'm not ready to write it, and I'll do it later. I'm worried about the criticism, the critiques, and the critics. I'm worried about failing. I'm worried that it won't be good. I have a million worries, and none of them are good enough to stop me from challenging myself. But I have, in a sense, more time (the schedule does seem to be settling in) and with more time now, I should try and put this book into an actual form.<br />
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<b>4. Serving God with much more of my heart, not my head</b>. It's easy for me to get caught up with the logistics and scheduled aspects of my church, a community that I love. It's a community I helped plant, and I've been abundantly blessed to watch grow. I readily rely on my head to get me through challenges and problems in ministry, but this dystopian reality has forced me to move to my heart. My community has been pushed to go to online platforms to meet and worship, changing the very nature of meeting - and my head tells me it is different, but my heart feels my community. Initially my church had no thought of offering children's ministry online during the quarantine, but later asked me if I would be willing. And my head, calculated all the humiliation, the self-consciousness, the reasons not to, but my heart thought of my students, suddenly without their community. I shut down all the reasons not to, and focused on doing it. The first lesson, I recorded myself giving my Sunday school message some 20 times; I worried about each facial expression, each tone, and reworked it ad nauseum. Even after I gave the message, I missed the kids - almost feeling bereft without their sweet faces, so asked for help in figuring out how to see them. I found help (ZOOM), and managed a mid-week live praise session. Again my head hesitated, for it's one thing to do dances and crazy things in front of my Sunday school students in a classroom closed to parents, quite another to enter the homes of said students and do the same things in front of the parents and the kids. But the moment it began, that first time, my heart leapt with joy, and my head couldn't even think. It was pure joy serving God, this strange new way, and I felt my heart rejoice.<br />
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<b>5. Mastering my pizza oven.</b> Around my birthday, in a crazy turn of events, I managed to somehow win a pizza oven from the folks over at <a href="https://ooni.com/">Ooni</a> with the help of my friends J, T, P, and T. I was incredibly thrilled, as who doesn't want an awesome pizza oven, and I was excited about the prospect of making my own dough, my own sauce, and popping out professional looking pizzas in 90 seconds or less. I've had the oven for a while, and still, even after multiple practices, pizza making is anticipated with a ton of optimism, and then finished with a bunch of curse words, sauce everywhere, and burnt crust. I am not close to mastering this. My dough is crazy, my oven is not in my control, and I cannot figure out why I am so bad at it. But I want to master this skill, if only to provide endless pies for my family, so that we never ever have to order pizza out.<br />
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I am not sure if things are ever going to "return to normal," but rather than wait for that, I will work on being one of those characters in dystopian novels who can see a way to make change in the world as it is.<br />
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-21073888351775653052020-03-07T10:22:00.000-08:002020-03-10T23:34:55.924-07:00Matcha Tea Cake: Return to Buyer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Like the best creative moments which are built upon many disparate elements coming together to make something far more than the individual components, this tea cake is a product of many random occurrences. It started with my friend HL, from another city far away sending me a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8W_iVqIT-I&t=30s">video of a cake</a> making demonstration and pictures of a cake she had made accompanied by the words, "It's not rising. But I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong!!" Because I'm always curious about what can go wrong in baking, I immediately texted back a series of questions about the freshness of her baking powder, what kind of technique she had used to fold in flour, how much lemon juice she had used, even before watching the video. She responded that ingredients were fresh (although the baking powder was a bit iffy) and her technique followed the video. I finally sat down to watch the video, was intrigued by its rather soothing simplicity, and texted, "Recipes that appear very simple are often technically challenging. And the pan she is using seems really small."<br />
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I subsequently began the madness of testing out various theories about the recipe, including my primary hypothesis that the pan size in the video was much smaller than what most standard bakers at home had. I messed around and then returned to her with, "It's pan size. Double the batch or get a smaller pan." The mystery, it seemed, was solved.</div>
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I kept the recipe in my head, calculating how to simplify some of the more finicky aspects of it (three separate bowls, hand mixing, extra ingredients) and then while digging for the all-important cake flour in my pantry, stumbled upon an unopened bag of matcha, purchased from Costco. The bag was unopened because it was the second of two bags, the first bag being one that I forced myself to finish, the second one a regret purchase I didn't want to deal with. In the realm of matcha, I just didn't love it, but I also didn't return it to Costco, where I know I easily could have gotten my $19.99 back and used it to purchase a matcha I might like more.</div>
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One might ask why I didn't return it, or why bother holding on to it, and the answer is simply this - WASTE. I'll ask you to consider, for a moment, what happens to food items that you return to the store? It goes back on the shelves, so another person can purchase it, and it's part of the cycle of retail. Except that isn't what happens. When you purchase food at the store, do you ever think it has been any place except a warehouse and the store itself? Of course not. You never imagine that your box of cereal has traveled to someone else's house and come back to the shelves so that you can purchase it. And it hasn't. The item you purchase has never been purchased previously.</div>
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I learned this very hard lesson about food waste while running Vacation Bible School almost ten years ago. I had three kids in the Vacation Bible School, and I took on the very specific role of creating, purchasing, executing biblically-inspired healthy snacks for the 75 or so kids that showed up every evening for a week. (I have a couple of posts about this actually. <a href="http://weekofmenus.blogspot.com/2012/06/sky-vacation-bible-school-snacks.html?q=vbs">Here </a>and <a href="http://weekofmenus.blogspot.com/2011/06/pandamania-vacation-bible-school.html?q=vbs">here</a>. ) The funds came from our church for VBS, and I was very conscientious about not overspending and coming in under budget every year. One year, I purchased five boxes of cereal too many, and since it worked out to about $20 of church funds, I set out to return them because I didn't want to waste God's money. At Target, I slid five perfectly pristine, unopened boxes across the counter to the cashier and said, "I need to return this." She promptly dragged a trash can over, grabbed a box, scanned it and proceeded to move the box towards the trash can. Panicked I said, "Wait! This is a brand new box! What are you doing!" and she told me that by law, anything that can go into the mouth that is returned cannot be resold. She was going to trash five boxes of uneaten cereal. I reached for the box, told her I was cancelling my return, and left with five extra boxes of cereal, $20 to give to the church for my mistake, and breakfast for my family for the next three months. Watching perfectly clean food being thrown away hurt me on the inside, and I decided to take far more responsibility for the food I purchased.</div>
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People have pointed out to me repeatedly that conscientious stores like Costco, and many Targets and supermarkets carefully donate food to different food shelters and the needy. And while I admire their corporate responsibility and philosophy, I am tremendously bothered by the lines of carts shoved with unsellable food I see at many supermarkets. This isn't about expiration dates or defective foods - this is about perfectly fine food items that some buyer decided that he or she didn't want or need anymore. And while I am sensitive to people needing to have the $20 cash back in their pocket or bank accounts, I wonder about the people who just didn't think ahead about what happens to the food they return.</div>
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I think stores should do a better job explaining what happens to the returned food - even the idea that food is not resellable could perhaps deter shoppers from buying what they don't really need or want. A stronger policy, one that I know will be harder to implement, is simply not allowing food to be returned, except for defective and expired food. The lenient food return policy is helpful for the consumer, but it is also building some very poor habits in our society - if we don't want it any longer, we need not consider the consequences, as long as we have our money back in our pockets. But there is a cost to waste, and it isn't being borne by the buyer of the unnecessary food, but by our societal consciousness as a whole. </div>
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And that is why the matcha stayed in my pantry, unused for over a year. Returning it meant it might be sent to a food bank, but if I didn't like the matcha for me, why should I assume that someone at a food bank might? I kept it until I had an opportunity to find use for it, so with the tea cake recipe in my head, I decided to apply the bag of matcha (12 oz bag no less) to my endeavors to make something delicious.</div>
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After something like seven separate attempts, the cake is where I want it to be - moist, delicious, and perfect with a cup of tea. It's not overly sweet, and the icing is just the perfect touch of sweetness without being cloying. The quality of your matcha can affect both color and taste, and a higher quality matcha will yield a greener and more herbal cake. (In case you are wondering about this particular matcha and my dislike for it, it has to do with the color of the matcha, as it is more yellow than green.)<br />
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The two special ingredients in this cake are cake flour (Softasilk and King Arthur are two brands I've seen) as cake flour doesn't develop gluten (which turns into a tough cake) the way all purpose flour does and matcha. Matcha powder is readily available in the Asian section of most grocery stores (or here on <a href="https://amzn.to/2Q619XD">Amazon</a>). Splurge a little bit more for the better green color. (note the difference in the greens between the matcha latte and the cake itself in the picture below. The matcha latte was a brighter green matcha.)</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Matcha Tea Cake</span></b><br />
Makes 1 loaf<br />
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<b>Cake Ingredients</b><br />
2 cups cake flour (250 grams) (<i>note - if you're not weighing, the most accurate method of getting close to the correct weight is to fluff the flour up with a spoon, and then delicately spoon it into a measuring cup and then carefully taking a knife across the top to even it out. DO NOT PACK</i>)<br />
2 tablespoons matcha powder (16 grams)<br />
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (3 grams)<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder (5 grams)<br />
1 3/4 sticks of butter, softened (14 tablespoons or 200 grams)<br />
1 cup sugar (220 grams)<br />
2 eggs<br />
1/2 cup milk (can use oat, soy, or regular milk)<br />
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<b>Icing Ingredients</b><br />
3/4 cup powdered sugar (100 grams)<br />
4 teaspoons of water (20 grams)<br />
1/8 -1/4 teaspoon of matcha (varying grams for color)<br />
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Preheat oven to 330 or 325 if you have an old fashioned oven. Line a loaf pan with parchment paper or grease loaf pan well.<br />
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In a medium bowl, stir together cake flour, matcha powder, salt, and baking powder. Set aside.<br />
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In the bowl of a stand mixer, or in a large mixing bowl, mix together sugar and softened butter. Mix until sugar is mixed well throughout the better. Add eggs one at a time. Mix until the egg is also well incorporated. Add half the flour mixture and mix on low. Add all the milk and mix on low. Finish with the remaining flour mixture and mix on low until mixture is uniform. It will be a little stiff.<br />
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Move mixture into loaf pan. Smooth out the top as best you can, and then put in oven. Bake for 60-70 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean.<br />
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Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then remove from pan and allow to cool on rack. Once the cake is fully cool, usually after about 2 hours, you can work on the icing. In a small bowl, mix together sugar, water, and matcha until completely uniform.<br />
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For the prettier more refined look, you can do what I did in the photos which is to slice off the puffy top of the cake, and then flip it over so that you ice the bottom of the rectangle so that it looks modern and refined. You do lose quite a bit of cake this way, and while the scraps are delicious, sometimes this is extra finicky and you do not need to do this. Alternatively, simply pour the icing all along the top of the loaf, and allow to run down the sides and set. Slice and serve. Best day of, but if you like to save it, wrap it tightly in saran wrap.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XC1RjZcjO6PXgmL4R1vOJjgt4PE8YxXatc3qJ6GUaTs/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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Tea time. </div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-50528776044483708602020-01-24T09:29:00.001-08:002020-01-24T09:29:43.428-08:00Black Sesame Tea Cookies: How to say goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For my grandmother</i><br />
<br />
My mom once told me that in your 40s and 50s, you attend more funerals than weddings in a year. I've been invited to three weddings this year, which doesn't bode well for the funeral count. But death is a part of life, and even as we grow accustomed to the idea of someone leaving the earth, the passing of a loved one is always accompanied by complex and contradicting emotions.<br />
<br />
My grandmother, at the age of 95, passed away last summer. I deeply ached in places previously unknown and unfelt. I found myself asking lots of those crazy internal questions: if I had done enough for her, loved her enough, or been there enough for her. I felt off balance for much of the rest of the summer and well into the holiday season. There were so many triggers for me - seeing my cousins in Korea at her funeral, honoring her, while I lay on a sofa recovering from an ACL replacement, unable to fly to Korea to be there. I saw my father in photographs of the funeral, wearing a white, short-sleeved dress shirt and was confused why he was dressed as such, and then remembered that this all happened during one of the craziest heatwaves in Korea. I remembered the small earrings I wear daily were a wedding gift from her, when she took me shopping and wanted me to buy something bigger and grander, and I chose smaller and simpler despite her protests. I can still hear her lament that I chose something so understated. I noticed on the holiday card list her name and address in Korea, and realized that I didn't need to send a card this year. I wrote her address by hand even though I didn't need to send a card, simply to feel the weight of her presence in another place.<br />
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My relationship with my grandmother wasn't a complicated one - simply because she adored me. It was our relationship with other people that made it a little more complicated. Her adoration and love of me was palpable, almost embarrassing because it wasn't a secret from anyone. All my cousins, my family, my brothers all knew I was number one in her heart, and I will tell you there is something ultimately potent and heady to be loved as hard as she loved me. I often jokingly talked back at her, ribbing her in these little ways, making fun of her hilarious idiosyncrasies, like her supreme dislike of pork while I insisted on eating it. I loved seeing her face, indignant at my pricks, and then relax and smile when she realized that I was making fun of her. I am fortunate that while both of my daughters were young I lived a mere 30 minutes from her in Seoul, and she wouldn't hesitate to get into a cab to come and visit the girls and me, bringing something yummy to eat or fun to play with for my girls. In my grandmother's eyes I was always special, unique, precious, valuable, and more than enough for her. I did nothing outstanding to experience this kind of unconditional love, and I know that I lived 47 years of my life being completely adored.<br />
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I am blessed to have learned cooking from her, to taste the food of her hands, to associate tastes, flavors, and textures to food that she made for me. She lives on in so much of who I am as a woman who tries to cook well for her loved ones. She modeled hospitality, beauty of presentation, and meticulousness of execution - all to a level I cannot match, but aspire to. She always wanted me to do less, to protect my body from the harsh labor of constant cooking, all the while pushing me to learn and keep her dishes and her flavors alive. With her spirit in another place, I remember her more when I cook, feed others, taste something. She was always so sure of her expertise, her technique, and what she was making - and I hope to be able to reach her level one day.<br />
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These black sesame tea cookies make me think of her. She used to bring me Korean black sesame cookies, pointing out it was something my mom loved, despite their ability to leave you with crazy black specks in your smile. Sharing something delicious with my grandmother may be the moments I miss the most in the second half of my life.<br />
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These are not an overly sweet cookie, but rather a mildly sweet, very nutty cookie, but so good with a cup of tea or coffee.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Black Sesame Tea Cookies</span></b><br />
Makes 36-40 cookies<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Ingredients</b><br />
1 cup unsalted butter softened<br />
1/2 cup powdered sugar<br />
2 cups all-purpose flour<br />
½ teaspoon salt<br />
1 cup black sesame seeds, measured first then ground in a food processor<br />
1 cup (approximately) powdered sugar (for rolling - NOT FOR THE COOKIE DOUGH)<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream the butter and ½ cup of powdered sugar. Add the flour and salt and mixed until combined. Last, mix in chopped ground black sesame seeds until just mixed. Roll the dough into 1" balls. Cover and chill the dough balls for at least 2 hours, up to 36 hours.<br />
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Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place dough balls on a non-stick baking sheet. These cookies will not rise or flatten, so they can be placed relatively close together. Bake for about 10 minutes. Don't allow the balls to brown. This will ensure the cookies are buttery soft.<br />
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As soon as you are able to touch the still-warm cookies, carefully roll the cookie balls in powdered sugar. Allow the cookies to cool completely on a rack and then roll them again in powdered sugar.<br />
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Can be stored 3 days in an airtight container.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/15kHUXPcIZ0KXyhqWnRKJnGXEu16wHd8RhR44MTczNiU/edit?usp=sharing">Printable Recipe</a></i><br />
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These cookies are perfect piled up in a corner.</div>
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-36456361616661399602019-04-04T12:50:00.000-07:002019-04-27T23:20:33.827-07:00Vegan Oatmeal Cranberry Cookies: Inserting yourself<div>
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<i>To L, L, T, C - for being there</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
Last summer, my husband announced that he was going to explore a vegan lifestyle, inspired by something he saw on Netflix. As his supportive wife, I tried hard to not roll my eyes into the back of my head, and simply nodded, "Whatever you say," and began planning how I was going to accomplish this. (The kids and I also privately tried to predict when he would stop eating vegan. His son put him at the longest at 2 months.)<br />
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Fortunately it was summer when he decided to start, which meant lots of choice for fresh produce. And he wasn't unduly strict about it; if we went out or were invited to someone's house, he'd do his best to eat what he could. But when it was possible, if it was possible, he wanted to try and embrace being mostly vegan. The rest of the food I knew he loved--steak, ribs, cheese, salami, ice cream--he gave up completely. </div>
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He took this on for about 7 months, relaxing towards the end more, with more fish more often in his diet, but for the vast majority of those 7(!!!) months, he was strict and kept to his diet, in large part due to my willingness to facilitate it. I made sure there were plenty of greens; I bought the things he wanted like mounds of hummus and carrot sticks; and I made sure his meals focused on nutrition minus meat. I learned and experimented with tofu (an ingredient he's grown to dislike in recent months) and I found ways for the burgers and his snacks to be vegan. I packed his work lunches and I made sure he had a hot meal when he came home. It was hard at first, especially since the rest of us were not choosing a vegan lifestyle, but I figured things out and adjusted. He lost a significant amount of weight, his mood improved, and he looked younger and more vibrant. Even with that though, I have to say that I was somewhat relieved when he decided to go back to the family's diet, although with the request for more vegetables. </div>
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He is the one who had will power to give up his favorite foods and try this, but I want to go on the record and say I assisted by supporting him and making it easier to make this change. I didn't refuse to give him what he wanted and I tried to encourage the rest of the family to embrace their father's change. I wanted him to be successful, even if it meant bending backwards a little bit on my part to get it to happen. I had a few friends tell me that I should let him handle this on his own, make him do his own cooking, and make him figure it out, but I know he needed someone to make sure that maintaining veganism at home was easier. Sometimes it takes someone else to support you and make some adjustments for you to be successful when things get hard.</div>
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But my friend did point out that these adjustments were easier for me to manage because I had spent over a decade managing adjustments for my son. And that training I got, from having to feed a boy allergic to so many things, changed me on the inside. Food, although a joyful place for me, was also a dangerous place for my son, requiring tons of supervision and management. I became a bit hyper vigilant, a bit paranoid, and my friends had to get used to my interrogations around food--how was this prepared, what went into it, can I see the package, where did you buy it from, how was it stored in your fridge--I feel lucky that people were willing to invite me to home in those early years. Even my own mother wasn't saved from these food prep interrogations and there were moments of realization that dawned on her face when she realized a quick rinse of a bowl for food prep probably had the sesame seeds that caused my son's eczema to flare up viciously. Making adjustments around food has long been a part of my life.</div>
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In recent weeks, I heard a comment from one young mother at church talking about another mom who appeared to be struggling with food allergies in her baby. I didn't know the other mom well, but I couldn't stop thinking about these people I didn't know. The baby cried a lot, was fussy, and the mother was stressed and worried. And suddenly all this training, these modifications, these struggling moments I had put into my own son came charging back--I wanted to do something. I reached out to this woman, told her my story, and asked if I could just insert myself into her life to help her.</div>
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She must have been desperate, because she let a near-stranger into her life. I asked if my friend and I could pray for her baby and her family. I asked if I could know her meals and food habits. I began helping her pick apart foods she was eating that could potentially upset her son's delicate digestive system. I suggested she avoid certain foods. I made her a couple of meals, to my exacting allergy-friendly standards, because I know what it takes to get allergen-free dishes to the table. I asked her about her breastfeeding, how long for reactions, and slowly and surely, her baby began to improve. </div>
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I had her and a couple of other moms over for a meal recently and I consulted with her on her own food allergies (food allergy baby has food allergy mom if you can believe it) and crafted a menu for her that our entire group could enjoy. I went with the one of my favorite dishes, <a href="http://weekofmenus.blogspot.com/2012/08/poached-chicken-with-three-sauces.html?q=poached+chicken">Poached Chicken</a>, some sauteed broccoli, rice, and a vegan chocolate chip cookie (post to come). She wrote me a lovely message afterwards, thanking me for the communal meal - eating food with others, and to just partake in the community of eating from the same dish. I had consciously made the meal around her, to make something she could eat, and we subsequently all enjoyed it.</div>
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I never expected the struggle I went through with a food allergy child would be used in such a simple way. I CAN cook for other people who have food allergies, because I know how to think about it, how to ask the questions, and how to verify and make sure. I can make the recipient feel comfortable. I can insert myself in a place of challenge and help, and then step back and help again when called upon. And it also made me realize asking for help and giving help isn't as natural as people think it is. I don't know if the young mother at church KNEW what she needed - but I did. I don't know if in her sleep-deprived frustrating days she could have figured out how to get support for herself, because it is hard knowing what to ask for. But I could figure things out with more clarity. Ultimately, I believe God pushed me into this place, to insert myself, and to let His work be done. I was lucky enough to see how He could use all the suffering I had gone through, and make it fruitful. The little baby? He's feeling so much better. The mom? She's going to come over for lunch again in a couple of weeks. Me? I'm joyful God placed me in the right place, with the right training, in the right time to help someone with skills I received through my hardship. What better way to redeem suffering than for His glory.</div>
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However, it is hard to ask for help. It is hard to figure out HOW to help. For that, I turn to a resource, my friend and author Diane Dokko Kim, who wrote a phenomenal book called <i><a href="https://amzn.to/2FORfE1">Unbroken Faith</a>. </i>She is a special needs parent, her older son with an autism diagnosis (she often refers to it as #awetism, because God's grace through the diagnosis has been nothing short of awesome). She has chronicled her own journey and has detailed how hard it is to be vulnerable and allow someone into your life and get help. I think often we don't know what we need, and often we, as observers, want to help don't have any concrete idea of what small impactful thing we can do. Diane has made available a wonderful <a href="https://www.dianedokkokim.com/the-help-wish-list/">help list</a>, which I love because focuses on small tangible things those who need can ask for, and those who want to help can provide. It takes guesswork out of what to do.<br />
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I've learned a lot from this experience of inserting myself in someone's life. I am definitely NOT more capable nor more talented than the person next to me; but through my willingness to try to give to others, God uses me, in the small immeasurable, intangible ways, which hits a certain string in my heart - the one that resonates with my love for Him.<br />
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This recipe is for all my food allergy families--the ones who have suffered and eaten sometimes tasteless cookies--because these cookies TASTE SO GOOD. They have a chewy crispy texture, and a light cinnamon and oatmeal flavor. You can give them out, and I promise, NO ONE would know they are vegan and allergen-friendly - free of eggs, butter, nuts, peanuts.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Vegan Oatmeal Cranberry Cookies</span></b><br />
Makes about 2 dozen cookies<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
1½ cups all-purpose flour<br />
¾ oats (instant or old-fashioned)<br />
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder<br />
¾ teaspoon baking soda<br />
½ teaspoon fine salt<br />
1¼ cranberries or raisins if you prefer<br />
½ cup sugar<br />
½ cup packed light brown sugar<br />
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon canola, grapeseed, or any other neutral oil<br />
¼ cup plus 1 tablespoon water<br />
2 teaspoons vanilla extract<br />
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<b>Method</b></div>
In a large bowl, whisk together flour, oats, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the cranberries (or raisins) to the flour mixture and toss to coat. In a separate large bowl, whisk the sugars together, breaking up any potential clumps of brown sugar with force if necessary. Add oil, water, and vanilla extract, whisking briskly until smooth and incorporated, about 2 minutes.<br />
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Add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture, and then stir with a wooden spoon or a rubber spatula until just combined and no flour is visible. Do not overmix. Cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate the dough for at least 12 hours and up to 24 hours. DO NOT SKIP this step, because it is essential for both texture AND flavor.<br />
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Preheat the oven to 350° F. Line two rimmed sheet pans with parchment paper. Remove dough from the refrigerator and use an ice cream scoop or a spoon to portion dough into 2-inch mounds. After shaping dough, freeze for 10 minutes, which allows cookie to maintain a better shape. After freezing, bake for 12 to 13 minutes, or until the edges are just golden. Do not overbake. Let cool completely before serving.
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<a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ULkKRxSpv2EKnPk2yzAB7ucLPfZb5jWIK0KcoDkJgo8/edit?usp=sharing"><i>Printable Recipe</i></a><br />
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No one needs to know these are vegan.</div>
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-55383636633015510672019-04-02T10:28:00.002-07:002019-04-02T10:29:54.276-07:00Matcha Brown Rice Cookies: An Open Letter to Parents on the Day of Rejection from College<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Parent:<br />
<br />
Today, and the last few days and weeks preceding today have been rough for us. Colleges have announced their admissions decisions for their incoming classes, and in the pile of digital messages, our wonderful children have heard the phrase, "It is with great regret..." instead of "Congratulations!" way more times than we want to admit. With each no that hits our children's email inbox, we start becoming more and more anxious our children will not get in anywhere, and we will be left holding a broken, broke, directionless student at home.<br />
<br />
As parents, we have a tough job in this moment. It is hard watching our child suffer the disappointment of rejection, harder still when the child has had repeated letters which said "no." It's very easy in those moments to overanalyze and begin picking apart why our child didn't get into the particular school of his or her choice. We look at numbers and statistics, picking apart small decisions and start getting frustrated and wonder IF our child had done one other thing "right," then the no would have been a yes. It's tremendously easy to go down that path, to dwell on rejections in its various shades, and try to proclaim the numerous reasons why the college should have accepted our child.<br />
<br />
But parents, I encourage us to take a step back and think about the greater lesson that we are in the best position to teach - and that is the response after a painful disappointment. Our reactions to these hard moments are the best indicators to our children of how they are to interpret the harsh news. If we act like it is the end of the world, our children will feel it is the end, and they have somehow contributed to the disappointment of the parents. If we can respond with balance and a certain amount of sanguinity, they can eventually reach that same emotional conclusion themselves. They will echo our reactions, so how we behave in these hard moments will be the best instructor for how they should. We set the example of how to prepare for a lifetime of infinite disappointments, the kind that a normal life throws at you - the unexpected, the painful, the challenging moments when things just do not go your way.<br />
<br />
To teach our children how to respond when a college rejects them, it helps to remember some important ideas:<br />
<br />
There is not just the one perfect college for our child. If we watch our children's lives with the perspective trying to seek the one "perfect" thing, we will be stuck trying to find the perfect crib, stroller, school, carseat, food plan, program, teacher, soccer team, prom outfit. There is no end to the hunt for perfection - it is a Sisyphean task with no joy. We find ourselves bitter celebrities and the uber-rich can afford to buy their child's way into the "perfect" college, and we tell ourselves we wouldn't do it; yet dark parts of us secretly wish we did have the means so we could. But there are many ways for a child to thrive and grow with far less than perfection - with pretty good, with about average, with it's all right. We, as parents, easily become overly consumed with perfection that we've forgotten that average is a wonderfully healthy place. If we remember that there are a variety of options available, a series of items on a menu if you will, then there are many things to choose from when the limited, exclusive special is sold out. We can teach our children that there is no one perfect school, and that there are multiple paths to a destination.<br />
<br />
We must remember opportunity is different from getting what we want. In the incredibly unpredictable months of college admissions, it is easy to miss the interesting opportunities presented to our children because it isn't exactly what we/he/she want or wants. However, opportunities are not about desire, but far more about how we take advantage and engage in experiences fully. I'll point to a <a href="https://ed.stanford.edu/news/first-step-choosing-right-college-ignore-rankings-says-stanford-researcher">Stanford Graduate School of Education</a> study co-authored by Denise Pope which states, "Research tells us that the most successful students, both in college and beyond, are the ones who engage in the undergraduate experience regardless of how selective a school may be....This is almost always the case whether a student attends the top-ranked or 200th-ranked college." In other words, the best opportunity is the one that our child fully involves him/herself in. The best college is the one that our child takes full advantage of in terms of experiences, learning, extracurriculars, professor relationships, research, and human connection. These amazing opportunities are not limited to a single school, but are available regardless where our children go, as long as we show them how to find them. We can teach our children to be excited about what is at the school they are going to, the special characteristics, classes, and opportunities that are there. We can be excited for them for what their future holds instead of disappointed about something that didn't happen. There is a wonderful <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/17/smarter-living/seeing-the-bright-side-of-missed-opportunities.html"><i>New York Times </i>article</a> which explains this idea about how rejection yields advantage<br />
for adults, in case you think this is just something to consider for our children.<br />
<br />
Finally, we need to celebrate our children for being our children, not for the things they do. Their wins do not give us glory; their setbacks do not bring us shame. We celebrate them for living their best life through the natural, normal, and unpredictable moments. By consistently loving them no matter the circumstance, we provide the safe space for them to tackle life's road of potholes, bumps, and sinkholes. They need to be able to come back to us when times are hard and not fear parental repercussions when they fail. Because they need to fail. We need to let them fail, and fail again and again, and a few more times over. And each time there is a failure or a setback, we just love them, and they get up and try again. Their college acceptance is not a sign of our own win at parenting, our own excellence at our ability to be awesome at raising children (or to be able to pay for something to happen), or a sign of our intellect. Their college acceptances are their own achievement, an attempt to learn about choices and performance, and we need to demonstrate that it is a mere moment in a much longer journey to a far-off destination.<br />
<br />
I won't go into the all the ways I think the college system is broken and dysfunctional and non-transparent--because it is the system we live with at this moment. But I believe firmly that the dysfunction of one system should not be the reason our own families become crazed; instead we use the dysfunction of the system to build up our families, grow our children, and prepare them for the realities of life. As parents we can be better and change the way we respond to an inexplicably inscrutable system, and by doing so, show our children how to respond when the choices are not what are expected.<br />
<br />
Parenting is not full of mere sweetness--it is not a spoonful of honey or a cup full of sugar. Parenting is full of many other flavors - sometimes the flavors are bitter, salty (full of our tears as it were), sour, tannic, along with the sweet. Understanding that makes us more prepared for the road that lies ahead for us, as well as our children.<br />
<br />
Our children are amazing, for who they are in each moment of their life, regardless of what their achievement at any particular moment. Drink them in, enjoy them, celebrate their faults, their foibles, their humanity. You do not need to wait for moments of greatness or achievement to be proud of our children.<br />
<br />
Good has already happened and good is yet to come.<br />
<br />
These cookies, like parenting, are not one note of sweetness: matcha gives is an herbal grassy note, while the back note richness of cream cheese and butter help round the flavors. The brown rice (my preference) gives it a special nutty crunch, and the sugar coating (kids' preference) makes it sweeter and milder.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Matcha Cookies with Brown Rice</span></b><br />
Makes 4 dozen 2-inch cookies<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
3 cups all-purpose flour<br />
1/4 cup matcha powder (culinary grade is good)<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder<br />
1/4 teaspoon baking soda<br />
3/4 teaspoon salt<br />
1 cup (8 ounces, 225 grams or 2 sticks) unsalted butter<br />
1/4 cup (2 ounces, 55 grams or 1/4 of an 8-ounce brick) cream cheese<br />
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar<br />
1 large egg<br />
2 teaspoons vanilla extract<br />
1/4 teaspoon almond extract (optional-it's a nice note, but if you have nut-allergy concerns just leave it out)<br />
<br />
1 cup toasted brown rice tea (available at Japanese markets) or 1 cup turbinado sugar OR a bit of both<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
Preheat oven to 375. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.<br />
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Combine flour, matcha powder, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a bowl and whisk to blend.<br />
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In a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer, beat cream cheese, butter and sugar until fluffy. Add egg, vanilla extract, almond extract and blend again. Scrape down sides. Add flour mixture and beat just until flour disappears. If the dough is too soft, just let it chill in the fridge for 20 minutes. If it is solid enough to be moldable, then you're ready.<br />
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Scoop balls of dough using about a rounded tablespoon's worth. Roll them briefly in the palms of your hands before dropping them in a bowl of either the toasted brown rice or the turbinado sugar (or some in either, for some variety, as I do here.) It might take a bit of work to get them to stick, but work towards coating the dough.<br />
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Place ball of dough on cookie sheet and after your tray is full, begin the fun squishing process. Press down on the ball of dough until it's about 1/4 inch tall. You can use a glass, a meat pounder (gently), or even a flat spatula.<br />
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Bake for 9-10 minutes, until the bottom is barely golden brown. (the top might look underbaked, but that is better than overbaked.)<br />
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Allow to cool on sheet for a couple minutes and transfer to a cooling rack. They do firm up the next day, so don't be afraid if they seem a little soft.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1j_A4Lzdx90pKuj9rfxlnlxVtDHKgGDTZx0QA13BZZko/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-50440591203746197692019-03-26T10:56:00.003-07:002020-04-01T09:42:27.623-07:00Upside Down Banana Cake: Beliefs vs. Principals (College Essay Series)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For DG - who taught me way more about music than I wanted to know and for reminding me that hard work trumps talent. </i><br />
<br />
Meeting DG as a student was really a resolution of many years of curiosity. He was the son of a close friend, one I've known since I was 23, who shared bits of his son's life with me during sporadic lunches and texts. The father I knew relatively well, the son only through his father's description, so the young man beyond his father's description interested me.
His face was remarkably expressive, his red hair unruly, his smile broad and unrestricted, and his voice so familiar, as it had the same timbre as his father's. He and I had little in common in terms of background, save for our classical music training. DG was far beyond my own skill and experience: a remarkably humble double bass player with many hours of practice and dedication, a deep passion for classical music, and a fierce commitment to the idea that "talent," musical or otherwise, did not exist. He never considered talent a part of his makeup, but attributed all of his musical ability to pure practice and dedication. I started many of our sessions with the question, "You still don't think talent matters?" to which he always responded, "Nope. Not even a bit." It was a bit of routine between us, my asking the question, and his ever-consistent response.<br />
<br />
That line about talent not mattering was straight DG's dad. I recognized and knew it. In all our many conversations leading up to writing his essay, so much of his father's instruction and beliefs were deep within DG, and I quickly understood how much he wrestled with upholding his father's beliefs. Honoring his father and making him proud quickly became the major hurdle for DG to overcome, for with every word he wrote, he worried and fretted that it was not good enough for his father. There were conversations where he would start with an idea, and end without a resolution, false starts to essays that didn't have a logical end; all the while this personal battle within him focused on how to measure up to the man just down the hall from where he slept.
The most complex challenge of resolving DG's ability to write his story was how different his father's experience was from his own. Their childhoods and adolescence could not have been more different, a main driving force behind these difference being skin color. The father was far darker in skin tone, born to an African American father and a Caucasian mother, and DG had none of the darker skin tones shading his father's complexion--he complained about burning in the sun after a short walk down the street, his hyper-fair skin missing all the melanin that defined his father's experience, his fiery red hair drawing society's attention to him differently than the dark hair of his father. As much as they looked so different, I could see so much of my friend's face in his son's, the goofy eye expressions, the quirky sardonic movements of brows and half-smiles, all manifestations of his father.<br />
<br />
I knew if he could get all these complex and contradicting ideas down on paper, we would have a powerful piece of writing that he could be proud of. But for many many weeks, we were stuck at about 75 words, none of them exactly what he wanted to say, and each week he'd show up for a session, with a sheepish grin on his face and the words, "I didn't write much Joanne" to which I responded, "That's ok." It wasn't for a lack of alternate topic that he struggled either, quite the contrary; his different experiences and work outside of school were varied and highly engaging. However, we both knew that the topic that would stand out would be the topic that was hardest for him to articulate. I won't lie--there was a period I started getting REALLY worried and wondered if we would hit any of the major early deadlines: November 1 or November 30. Finally in the 11th hour, a couple of days before Halloween, his essay took shape. More than anything he had looked for a hook or some sort of analogy to hang his experience upon - one that could in part explain the crazy background he had within him, and we found it in the musical term "polyrhythm," not surprisingly a musical concept that he adored.<br />
<br />
"There is a concept in music which fascinates me for three reasons: it is a nuanced, complex, and baffling concept; it exists everywhere in all types of music; and it makes for a great metaphor of my life. This musical concept is called a polyrhythm. By definition, a polyrhythm makes use of two or more rhythms simultaneously. I walk in polyrhythms wherever I go, walking in two and snapping or whistling in three. It does, in fact, drive my friends and family a little crazy. For the longest time, I thought I only did this because I am super music nerd, but it was only while writing this essay that I have come to learn it is the ultimate metaphor for my life.<br />
<br />
"I idolize my parents. They are diligent workers, respectful to anyone and everyone, and are the most truly kind people I have ever met. I want more than anything to be just like them. Like a polyrhythm, they come from such different places, different rhythms if you will. My mother grew up in a middle class working family from Connecticut whereas my father grew up in abject poverty. My father, the son of a single mother with no more than a high school education, didn’t have the same opportunities my parents afforded me. My dad had to navigate a situation in which he and his mother were not allowed into family members’ houses because of the color of his skin. He had to work five times harder than I will have to, for everything. This pulls at me every day of my life. Knowing that I have and always will have a different experience from my dad is the internal polyrhythm I face on a daily basis. "<br />
<br />
I think the most telling part of his writing experience came a couple days after he had managed to get a strong rough draft onto the screen. He told me that he had a highly-out-of-character-super-charged-emotional conversation with both of his parents (he told me he ended up curled up into a ball crying), where ultimately what he realized was how thankful he was for the life they had given him. This is of course not to say that he wasn't grateful in the small ways for the wonderful life they had provided, but rather now, after writing down what was within him, he truly felt a level of gratitude because he understood a little bit more about who he was and a lot more about what he owed his father and his mother.<br />
<br />
This student's challenge pulled at my head for many weeks long after he put the words down, and I happened to listen to Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History podcast titled, "The Basement Tapes." In the podcast, Gladwell concludes with a series of statements that helped me frame A's challenge. He says, "What is a child's obligation to his parent? [How do we honor our parents?] Not by honoring our parent's beliefs. We are different people than they are. Born in different eras, shaped by different forces. What we are obliged to honor in our parents is their principles, the rules by which they live their lives."
It brought to home for me why DG ended the essay the way he did, and how he could finally understand what his father meant to him. He could never live his father's life as time, experiences, skin color had made that impossible. But he could live according to his father's principals. He writes, "This is my polyrhythm, the knowledge of my white privilege, being able to ignore it because of my white privilege, but always having it in the back of my mind. It is my duty to be aware of my father’s experience, to be grateful to him for the privilege he has provided me, and ultimately to do right by my father, by being a tolerant, aware, and open-minded person. The challenge beating inside me every day is reconciling my privilege with his experience: to be conscious of my father’s narrative in making my decisions, so as to not take advantage of the color of my skin."<br />
<br />
I think as parents we more often than not wish our children could live as we did--whether to gain our insight and our knowledge, or to know and understand things exactly the way we do. But the greater lesson is that expecting a life for our children the way we lived it is unreasonable and impossible. It is vastly more important that we live by strong principles, in a clear and deliberate manner, so that our children can know and honor those principals. While DG knew his father's story well, it was figuring out how to honor his father's principals in life that became the most valuable lesson for him.<br />
<br />
And so we now enter the recipe portion of the blog post. And it's banana upside down cake. And you're thinking, how do you get from a son honoring his father to this? The way this cake is made is by layering different ingredients on the bottom of a pan - brown sugar, dots of butter, slices of banana, and cake batter. And you bake it up not knowing exactly what is going to happen. And when it is done, you take it out and you're worried it won't be perfect or it won't come out of the pan, and voila - you flip it over, peel back the paper, and it is a thing of beauty. Just like a parent tries to layer as many things into a child, not knowing exactly what will happen, and you have this opportunity to flip the child over and peel back a little bit of what's underneath - you will, more often than not, find a character of beauty.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Upside Down Banana Cake </span></b><br />
Makes a 9x13 cake<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients</b> (topping and cake listed separately)<br />
<i>For the "upside down" part </i><br />
¾ cup brown sugar<br />
3 tablespoons of cold butter, cut into cubes<br />
5 ripe, but not overly ripe bananas (you want bananas that are firm and hold their shape, not complete mush)<br />
<br />
<i>For the cake part</i><br />
¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter<br />
1 vanilla bean, split, seeds scraped or 1 tablespoon vanilla extract<br />
3 cups all purpose flour<br />
¾ cup granulated sugar<br />
¾ cup light brown sugar<br />
¾ teaspoon baking soda<br />
1½ teaspoons kosher salt<br />
1½ cup whole milk yogurt or buttermilk<br />
3 large eggs<br />
<br />
<b>Method </b><br />
Preheat oven to 350.<br />
<br />
Line a 9x13 baking pan with a sheet of parchment paper - a bit of overhang is helpful when you have to remove the cake and paper as well.
Cover the bottom of the parchment with 3/4 cup brown sugar. Take 3 tablespoons of butter and add the dots of butter all over the parchment. Slice the bananas in half lengthwise, and place them in your desired pattern, flat size down, on brown sugar and butter. Set aside.<br />
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In a small saucepan, melt together butter with vanilla bean pod and seeds (if you are using, and if you're using vanilla extract, add it to the wet ingredients). Cook butter and vanilla bean swirling the pan every little bit. It will smell super delicious when it is close to ready, and also have bits of brown on the bottom. Use a fork to scrape up the brown bits and remove from heat. Set aside.<br />
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In a large bowl, whisk together flour, granulated sugar, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a large measuring cup or bowl whisk buttermilk, eggs, and vanilla extract (if you didn't use the pod). Add buttermilk mixture to dry mixture, carefully incorporating the wet into the dry, so as not to over-mix. A few streaks of flour are acceptable. Remove vanilla bean from melted butter and pour butter into the batter. Mix again, just to blend.
Pour batter over bananas and prepared pan.<br />
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Bake until edges are golden brown, about 45-55 minutes. If it's done, the top should spring back; you can also use a cake tester in the center of the cake. Remove cake from oven. Allow cake to rest for 10 minutes.
After 10 minutes, find a large tray or plate, and cover the pan, and flip both pan and tray at the same time, so that the top of the cake is now on the bottom of the tray. The cake should pop right out, leaving the parchment paper still attached. Carefully peel back the parchment paper.
Your cake is gorgeous with layers and perfect with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/10U4zVjt8t8dIiwfY5MaOzx-pAii2ya-rzDMfLX3O7OI/edit?usp=sharing"> Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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All those good layers</div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-31603904058669044202019-03-16T11:30:00.001-07:002019-03-21T23:54:20.849-07:00Glorious Carnitas: True Motives (College Essay Series)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For JW - you are wise beyond your years, honorable beyond your awareness, and worthy of all good things.</i><br />
<br />
I don't know if it was because I saw a lot of his father's face in him, (father is a former coworker of mine) or his quick-to-appear grin, but J's personality engaged me immediately. It helped he didn't have any hangups about his experiences -- he was very comfortable and open discussing his academic passions and dislikes, and very vocal about the teachers who had made him nuts in school and those who had engaged his brain. He also loved his skateboard, and would excitedly try and explain to this skateboard novice some trick with a cool name, using his fingers and tiny little skateboard he had on his desk. He was quieter about what he thought he wanted to do "for his job," but clearly had strong interests in physiology and the mechanics of the human form. He was also incredibly self-aware about his position in his world, his biracial ethnicity being one of the key factors in both his development as a human and his understanding of the communities he is a part of. It was clear within a few weeks that his perspective of his experience was far more complex, nuanced, and sophisticated than the easy-going personality let on. He was never afraid to challenge and question his own motivations. In the early weeks, I had a far clearer picture of who he was going to be, versus what he was going to do job wise.<br />
<br />
The Common Application essay prompts are varied, inviting students to respond in various ways. There are essays that I consider to be slightly "easier," in that the topics are obvious in approach. These are ones that invite student to measure and discuss something concrete from their own experiences - an achievement, accomplishment, a failure. For that reason, I always ask students to start attacking the challenging essay prompts first, because I often find that the essay prompt that is harder to answer pushes students more. I asked J to answer Prompt #4: "Describe a problem you've solved or a problem you'd like to solve. It can be an intellectual challenge, a research query an ethical dilemma - anything that is of personal importance, no matter the scale. Explain its significance to you and what steps you took or could be taken to identify a solution." He balked initially, but then he began considering all of his activities, and said, "I want to change how people volunteer."<br />
<br />
The idea was raw and underdeveloped, but it came from a place of experience. J, together with his mom, had spent many days volunteering at a large church in their city. The church itself had done an amazing job really inviting as many people as possible to volunteer to help feed the homeless, ostensibly to draw attention to the homeless crisis in the city where J lives. However, J describes the scene with the volunteers writing, "I have seen tech companies bring in a bus in order to publicize that their respective company is 'charitable'...but unfortunately I see other organizations, as well as individuals, use it as an opportunity to publicize how 'good' they are, leaving with their egos groomed, feeling as if they have just rid the world of hunger. " J was bothered by the attitudes of those who volunteered, the selfies they posted on Instagram and Facebook, sensing that their motives had less to do with the people they served and more to do with their own sense of accomplishment. I think the Pastor Edward Paz (incidentally another former student of mine) from the <a href="https://themovement.church/sunday">Movement Church</a> summed it up most clearly: "You don't show compassion to get something <i>for yourself. </i>You show compassion to give yourself <i>to something</i>."<br />
<br />
Ironically, J initially didn't want to volunteer, but went because his mom pushed him to do something for other people, and his mom went weekly every summer, taking J along with her. However reluctant his beginning, once he got there, he also figured out how to make the most of the situation, and that came from giving himself to the homeless. He summed up his wish for those who volunteer at the end of his essay:<br />
<br />
"I want people to really think hard about why they volunteer. I wish for the volunteers to have empathy for the people they serve, and even see the people they love in whom they serve. The most rewarding experiences I’ve had are those working with the disabled and elderly at the church’s cafe. Because we deal with guests who are less mobile, volunteers are asked to bring the trays of food to the person's seat, as opposed to having the guest come to get their food. Working in a smaller, slower setting allows for more intentional work to take place. Conversations between volunteers and guests are common. The rules are also a little looser, which makes it easier to sneak a guest an extra of their favorite flavor of yogurt, or a little extra sugar for their coffee and oatmeal. I’ve found that connecting with people is more than doing things for them, but seeing the humanity in each and every person that walks through the church doors."
<br />
<br />
While J's essay revealed to him his personal standard for volunteering, it also made me reevaluate all the reasons why I do something; his words challenged me to look at how I do things, to think about my own motivations for doing things for others. It's much easier to serve when you already know what your return will be, but it is far more challenging to serve when you have no idea what the reciprocation. True service is the act of giving generously without any thought of what the return will be. True compassion is the act of giving yourself to something. I know I have a long way to go to fully demonstrate living both generously and compassionately.<br />
<br />
Just as my student challenges me to rethink how to act generously and compassionately, I challenge you to rethink what carnitas should look like - which is this - it's not one color. It should not look pale grey, or lifeless, or uniform in color and texture. Carnitas should have all these many textures and colors because when cooked using a nice heavy pot with the beauty of time, it comes out to be something rather glorious. It isn't hard to get the results, but it does require a commitment to the process of time and the right attitude going in.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Glorious Carnitas (Little Meats)</span></b><br />
Serves 10-12 (make the whole batch and you get leftovers to enjoy, or make the whole batch and share with a family)<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients </b>(these ingredients will be divided into half between two pots)<br />
6-7 lbs boneless pork shoulder or butt, cut into 2-inch pieces (I get the package from Costco that is already cut into strips, which makes the cutting into 2 inch pieces so much quicker)<br />
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1<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-30284273-7fff-7f06-7a0d-cb0775df7861"><span style="color: #333333; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">½</span></span> </span>cups citrus juice - I use a mix of orange, lemon, lime, tangerine, whatever I have around. (Not too much of the super tart, as you do want some sweetness so don't shy away from using some orange or tangerine)<br />
4 tablespoons chopped garlic<br />
2 teaspoons kosher salt<br />
2 bay leaves (optional)<br />
2 sprigs of thyme (optional)<br />
<br />
<b>Method</b><br />
In two large heavy pots, divide up the pork shoulder. The ideal pots will hold a majority of the meat so that they touch the bottom of the pot, and not chunks of meat on top of one another. The first part of the process is about rendering the fat and tenderizing the meat through cooking. Add 3/4 cup of juice to each pot. Add 2 tablespoons garlic to each pot. 1 teaspoon salt to each pot. 1 bay leaf and 1 sprig of thyme to each pot.<br />
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Add enough water to barely cover the pork pieces. A couple of pieces poking out from out of the water is ok, as long as you can push down under the water during the cooking process. Bring both pots to a boil and then reduce the heat to a simmer. Simmer uncovered for 1.5 to 2 hours, until about half the liquid has reduced. Try and not touch the meat during this time.<br />
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After the liquid has reduced down, increase the heat to medium high and continue to cook, carefully and gently turning over pieces increasing the caramelization and browning. This is not a saute quickly and roughly moment, but rather a moment of carefully turning tender pieces of meat so that they can brown and crisp up in their own rendered fat. (This is really what makes carnitas so good - the browning of the meat in its own fat.) If I am unable to eat the entire pot at the moment, I will take pieces of the carnitas out and brown it in a fry pan, which is also delicious.<br />
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When the pork has gotten golden brown on as many sides as possible, it's ready for eating. Check seasonings and serve with whatever fixings you like. I like some crispy salad, guacamole, cilantro, and some salsas.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tYrURidHjdItoyqdpTWk5cQRUEF8ySQpVcYWSrjAGyY/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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Let me convince you that you should eat carnitas like this.</div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-39298234258190253382019-03-15T23:34:00.000-07:002019-03-15T23:34:30.926-07:00Rice Porridge (jook): Bystander to grief<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For my Food Sister - may your heart and your memories find rest.</i><br />
<br />
I was standing at the kitchen sink, staring at the unruly pile of dishes that refused to submit to my will, and contemplating which song I wanted to do them to when I reached for my phone, and saw the following text from my friend:<br />
<br />
"Are you teaching? I'm outside."<br />
<br />
Something about the hour (past 9:30 pm) and the text itself made my heart beat a bit faster, because I could tell something was wrong. Without telling anyone in my house what I was doing, I ran outside to see my friend, illuminated by my house lights, sitting in her car, wiping away her tears. I dashed over, flung open the car door and said, "What's wrong? Is it your dad?" to which she nodded, and I blurted out, "WHAT?" and she proceeded to tell me through her tears that he had passed away at 2:00 pm that day. She was on her way home after working with her mother and sister on the crazily mundane and frustrating logistics after death has come into your family. I hugged her as hard as I could, sobbing with her, partly because that fear of losing your parent lives in all of us. Our meeting wasn't too long, because she was headed home to her family, but she wanted to tell me in person. And before she left, I said, "Tell me what you need. And I will do it."<br />
<br />
Early the next morning, I got another text:<br />
<br />
"Thought of what you could do for me.<br />
Write.<br />
Comfort in food, comfort in words.<br />
I'm in need of both."<br />
<br />
The food part was easy - this jook, which my food sister and I always refer to as the "hug in the bowl," but the words were more challenging. I pondered what I was supposed to write about as a bystander to grief-- I sit on the sidelines watching her and her family grieve, feeling only the sliver of her pain, while trying to understand death as a bystander. I've been a bystander to death multiple times, death of a friend, death of a friend's beloved infant, death of my friend's parents, death of students, so it was not that death was unfamiliar - it is our inevitable ending point.<br />
<br />
I stumbled across a term "transactive memory" which is an extension of group mind think applied to memory. The term was first proposed by a psychologist <a href="https://scholar.harvard.edu/files/dwegner/files/wegnererberraymond1991.pdf">Daniel Wegner</a> and it is a theory about how groups of people have collective memories but no one person holds all the memory. The sort of pedestrian example they use is that one person in a couple knows how to get to the location so that the other person doesn't have to. Or one person knows how to operate the remote control so that the other person doesn't have to. The little research I did on it seemed to focus on the idea that it was for close and tight relationships - best friends and married couples. Because the relationships are so close, and the memories shared, with one person holding some and the partner holding the other half, death is incredibly disruptive to memory for now half of the memories are missing with the passing of one half of the pair. The idea that half of your life is missing when you lose your partner seems all the more poignant when you imagine that half of those memories go with your partner when he or she passes.<br />
<br />
But I could easily extend the concept of transactive memories to families as well, and particularly this real way of memory exists in parent-child relationships. For my friend, perhaps the loss that is the most painful is the loss of her father's memory of her as his daughter. There are no more memories of her as a young girl, the apple of his eye, the free spirit dancer who smiled slowly, but loved to laugh. There are no more memories of seeing her move through his home and his room, speaking gently and softly to him, tending to his needs, or bringing by his favorite foods. Other people may have those memories of her, but the way her father had them are no more, and maybe that is part of the feeling of being bereft after the loss of a parent. Who will remember how her father felt about her? Who will know how much love he had for her? I never thought about loss of memories as being a part of grief, but when one half of the father-daughter pair leaves this earth, then half of the memories of that relationship go as well. That may be the greatest feeling of loss, the idea that someone who loved you takes the memories of you with them. This may be why so many cultures invite a period of sharing of memories after a loss, perhaps a form of redistributing them around to new people so that the memories live longer.<br />
<br />
I am by no means an expert on grief, grieving, or loss. But as a friend, I wonder if my role is to help by being another place for transactive memory. If the memories of the father for his daughter are gone, I want to be the place where the memory of a daughter's love and loyalty to her father can live. I remember the many Saturdays where my friend and I would part, and she would leave to go spend time with her parents. I have the memories of the pained look on her face when she related that her father was again in the ER. I know of the special foods and the colorful flowers she bought at the farmers' market so that she could share them with him. I remember the moments of forgiveness and grace she extended. I hold images of all the quiet ways that she loved him, continued to love him when he was ill, and loves him now. I am purposeful in the kind of questions I ask in her moments of pain. What song were you listening to when you cried? Why did you cry last night? so that I can store those memories up for her and be a source of her memories. <br />
<br />
I remember the honor that she as a daughter has long shown to her father.<br />
<br />
Along with the comfort in words, I think there is nothing like certain foods to soothe the aching spots in your heart. Although I love a big plate of something to be shared, I also love the individual plating of something to be coveted as one's own. These jook bowls are just a fancier extension of the rice porridge so common in so many cultures - including my Korean one. But rather than mix all the ingredients together and cook them, I like the separation of all the components so that they can be appreciated for their individual qualities - sharp scallions, crispy and tender pork belly, soft and unctuous egg, crumbly and crunchy furikake, and delicate and lacy rice. It isn't much harder than making the jook and then having some components. There is the technical matter of the poached egg, but if you can't get around to poaching an egg, an over easy fried egg or a soft boiled egg will do nearly the same thing with the runny yolk.<br />
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I don't have a recipe really - just some ideas of things you can add to your jook and some basic proportions of how to get your jook to a texture that is both light and creamy.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Rice Porridge with Toppings</span></b><br />
Serves 4<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients</b><br />
1 cup cooked rice (My favorite thing to do is use up rice from your rice cooker, or cold rice and convert it to this luxury. It's the best way not to waste some old rice)<br />
3 cups of water<br />
1 tablespoon sesame oil<br />
1 teaspoon salt<br />
4 eggs, poached, fried over-easy, soft boiled - your choice<br />
1 cup finely chopped scallions<br />
Pork or spam - currently the topping people seem very drawn to is <a href="http://weekofmenus.blogspot.com/2019/01/roasted-pork-belly-halfway-mark.html">this pork belly</a>, sliced. But spam is also very very delicious.<br />
Furikake - to taste (I like the combination of both a spicy furikake and a non spicy one) - the ones in the photo below are my current go to - found at my local Japanese Market. They are more expensive than other furikake, but the quality and texture is obvious in the look and taste.<br />
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Other topping ideas include sauteed mushrooms, steamed broccoli, blanched spinach, wakame (seaweed)<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
In a medium pot add cooked rice, water, sesame oil and salt. Cook on medium high heat until the rice is translucent or the texture you desire. You may want to add additional water if you want a lighter, less sticky texture.<br />
<br />
While the rice is cooking, prepare other ingredients - poaching eggs, boiling them or frying them. Make sure all components are ready to go while the rice cooks.<br />
<br />
Once all components are ready, you can simply assemble the jook. Rice mixture on the bottom. Add whatever toppings you wish in an artful manner, keeping the components separate so that you invite your eater to mix them. It is easiest to add the furikake last.<br />
<br />
Serve warm.<br />
<br />
The photo below is how I often send jook to those who may need their own bit of comfort. Glass bowls that come with a lid, and then they can eat them at their leisure, simply heating them up in the microwave.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZTusJhHNQwvBLw4Eg4pmIIfJzIJPDQ103LLkPufSC_WQLVNu5P_dlqd-quQ5nR87YCjlvMlzmmHmb70wMRQ_-JQPLY0jj_fyhr_Juh1Aff-NSew9ilU5kwBIxPm6vTLprI5ejFXkdjqA/s1600/_MG_2757.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZTusJhHNQwvBLw4Eg4pmIIfJzIJPDQ103LLkPufSC_WQLVNu5P_dlqd-quQ5nR87YCjlvMlzmmHmb70wMRQ_-JQPLY0jj_fyhr_Juh1Aff-NSew9ilU5kwBIxPm6vTLprI5ejFXkdjqA/s640/_MG_2757.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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This is a great set of these dishes.<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Snapware-Total-Solution-Storage-24-Piece/dp/B011L4Q15Q/ref=as_li_ss_il?keywords=glass+lock&qid=1552717926&s=gateway&sr=8-12&&linkCode=li2&tag=weeofmen-20&linkId=ba1c1a1da2973671df3b77b4945cd1d1&language=en_US" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=B011L4Q15Q&Format=_SL160_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=weeofmen-20&language=en_US" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=weeofmen-20&language=en_US&l=li2&o=1&a=B011L4Q15Q" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />
Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-21888349512036162752019-02-10T23:20:00.003-08:002019-02-10T23:27:06.599-08:00Matcha Tea Cookies: Confessions of a Hoarder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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About six months ago, after casually putting my phone on the table, my friend E grabbed it and gasped horrified, "Joanne! There are 34,134 unread messages on your email! What are you doing with your life?" She subsequently took pictures of it to send to her daughter, who was equally mortified, and then graciously allowed me to explain how such a travesty would occur.<br />
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And I answered honestly - I'm too lazy to delete. (and I know a VAST majority of you out there are actually judging me and my email hoarder lazy ways, and I forgive you.)</div>
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My friend then showed me easy ways to mark off messages so that at least they'd appear to be read, and advised me on ways to just stay abreast of all the emails, and I nodded politely, slightly feeling like she had a point, but more on board with my own idea that I catch the important things in my email and I ignore all the junk that comes in. So much junk. I made a half hearted effort to try and get all the messages read, and tried to be more active about deleting, but for some reason, it didn't stick, and six months later, I ended up with 61,359 unread messages in my inbox. (This does not include read messages, which I also leave in my inbox.) After staring at the number in red on my phone, and contemplating whether I should see what happens if I cross to 100,00 unread messages in my email boxes, I decided to try and get on top of it, and put my big girl pants on and sat in front of my computer, my inbox now bursting with 63,212 messages.</div>
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At first I did some rapid fire deleting - just running down the lists, clicking all the offensive messages, and then hitting the trash button. But my web email system only lets me batch delete 50-200 messages at a time, and the clicking down quickly became boring and tedious. I discovered that a better method was to go down individually, click the "search" for a specific address, and voila-- all the emails from that address would appear in a cluster, easily removed with an additional click and suddenly I had a plan of attack.<br />
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I discovered some very interesting things through this method. Spam emails masquerading as friendly emails became evident. I learned when searching for all the emails under certain email addresses, completely unrelated email topics would come up, usually offering me insurance on my home, dating advice, and HARP home loans. Those I quickly and gleefully hit the spam button. It was the most exciting when 50 or 100 emails would disappear as such.<br />
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EasySpirit shoes somehow had the idea that I was a grandmother in need of their comfortable easy style, as they had sent me over 500 emails over the course of 3 years. I asked to unsubscribe from their mailing list (as I can ALWAYS join when I am in need of their comfortable and easy style) and joyfully hit delete.<br />
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Gwyneth Paltrow had emailed me not once, but on five separate occasions, explaining to me that I could live a better life if I tried her skin care regimen. I unsubscribed and sent her rapidly to the trash bin, as working with her regimen doesn't quite fit my current schedule. Sorry Gwyneth. Maybe next time.<br />
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My email box also revealed how my clothing and shopping styles had changed with the times. There were many emails from children's brands that my children, who are much older, no longer wear or have interested in. I unsubscribed from Zulilly, the Disney Store, the Lego Store, the Brain Store. I stopped all messages from clothing lines that are staples in our house, such as Gap and Old Navy, because every single sale doesn't mean anything to me. I buy when there is need, and I don't buy when there isn't. I firmly told them to leave me alone.<br />
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Message boards I had nothing to do with still sent me messages as well - schools my children no longer attend, groups my kids are no longer a part of, programs that I no longer participate in. From these message boards and groups I also politely exited.<br />
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This process, this focused de-cluttering of my email box, took hours over many days - more than a week. Each day saw the number in red come down a few thousand, all the while I rapidly sorted and deleted and unsubscribed. I sent my friends my updates, slowly chronicling the slow and but very steady reduction of the messages in my mailbox. I also noticed the slow and steady reduction of excess flying into my email inbox. And with the excess much removed, I could finally manage the load coming in. I realized how much headspace avoiding the clutter was taking up. Eliminating all the excess made looking into my mailbox that much more enjoyable, to pay attention to what was within, and to actually take into account the words there. My message inbox has reduced significantly, my before daily load totally nearly 500ish (mostly JUNK) down to about 75 daily messages that need to be dealt with. (trash, spam, respond, file)<br />
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This process made very clear to me how much extra noise in my life just makes me numb. It illustrated how easily excess just makes me extra tired. And even though the effort to simplify and empty out an email box was a pain in the butt, I love the result. Currently, at time of writing this blog there are 6 read messages in my email box - items that I need my attention in the morning.<br />
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With the intensity of life, I deliberately seek simplicity in the kitchen as well. I'm cooking far more simply, trying to make things easier for me to manage so that my brain doesn't have to go haywire with the juggling. And even as I get inspired by foods and flavors, my main goal is trying to execute the flavor I want in as simple a manner as possible. Fewer ingredients, cleaner flavors, simpler process. These cookies are a result of a green tea cookie that didn't taste like what I wanted it to taste like, so then I began experimenting with one to get the flavor I was looking for. This is the end result - a tender tea cake, modeled off of the Mexican wedding cookie so many people love, with a melt in your mouth experience that is simple and comforting.<br />
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Use a universal grade matcha powder - there will be a good enough flavor. (click picture to go to amazon.)<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Maeda-En-Shiki-Matcha-green-powder/dp/B00O9IDPSI/ref=as_li_ss_il?crid=5LTJH9ZS65G8&keywords=maedaen+matcha&qid=1549867024&s=gateway&sprefix=maeda+e,aps,193&sr=8-6&linkCode=li2&tag=weeofmen-20&linkId=422cedde1e62c7e18ecb7e69554b25d3&language=en_US" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=B00O9IDPSI&Format=_SL160_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=weeofmen-20&language=en_US" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=weeofmen-20&language=en_US&l=li2&o=1&a=B00O9IDPSI" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Matcha Tea Cookies </span></b><br />
Makes about 36 tea cookies<br />
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<b>Ingredients </b><br />
1 cup unsalted butter softened<br />
1/2 cup powdered sugar<br />
2 tablespoons matcha powder<br />
2 cups all-purpose flour<br />
½ teaspoon salt<br />
1 cup finely chopped pecans<br />
1 cup (approximately) powdered sugar (for rolling - NOT FOR THE COOKIE DOUGH)<br />
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<b>Method </b><br />
In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream the butter and ½ cup of powdered sugar. Add the flour, matcha powder, and salt and mixed till combined. Last, mix in chopped pecans.<br />
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Roll the dough into 1" balls. Chill the dough balls for at least 2 hours, up to 36 hours.<br />
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Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Place dough balls on a non-stick baking sheet. These cookies will not rise or flatten, so they can be placed relatively close together. Bake for about 10 minutes. Don't allow the balls to brown. This will ensure the cookies are buttery soft.<br />
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As soon as you are able to touch the still-warm cookies, carefully roll the cookie balls in powdered sugar.
Allow the cookies to cool completely on a rack and then roll them again in powdered sugar.
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Store in an airtight container at room temperature. Sift powdered sugar over them before serving, if desired.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dmqc6-7Cy6ybC9NaGsfP5kjQj0KKluNJ9qHbC74kplo/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-51234393808131941322019-01-25T23:44:00.001-08:002019-01-25T23:44:41.694-08:00Roasted Pork Belly: The Halfway Mark<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For Fun and Almost-Funny... </i><br />
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I am nearing the 50 mark in age, and as it happens, some of my friends are starting to hit that milestone. It's the "Over the hill" birthday, the one that people often celebrate in a big way, marking the occasion of being five decades old. It's the birthday that often stumbles people, triggering feelings of inadequacy and doubt, wondering if this is the end or if this is all there will be.<br />
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My good friend had her 50th birthday coming up, and I asked what she might like to do, and she expressed an interest in getting away with me and another one of our friends, a quiet weekend away to eat and relax and be out of our normal habits, to open ourselves up to just time together. It seemed an easy enough request to fill, so we began planning a weekend away, with the location to be beautiful Carmel-by-the Sea, CA, a mere two hour drive away. Let me be blunt - as much as I planned this as a beautiful weekend away for my friend, I was also looking forward to some time away for me, as it would mean leaving behind the duties and responsibilities of mother. In other words, WEEKEND GETAWAY!<br />
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Our weekend did not start off smoothly, as the birthday girl somehow ended up in the ER for an extended period of time for a minor issue that didn't get resolved. As we exited the ER at 1045 pm, a bit defeated and tired, we discussed aborting our trip for the night. I insisted we go. We HAD to go. We needed to drive in the wee hours of the night and get to our location. The other two agreed and we set off in a car, Korean snacks and hot pot in the trunk, and three tired bodies moving towards our lodging.<br />
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We arrived, slept in the next day, and eventually had our first leisurely meal at <a href="http://www.labicycletterestaurant.com/">La Bicyclette</a> in Carmel. We took a lovely drive down the coast to Big Sur and it was on the drive that we had time to reflect and talk, to look back on our friendship together, as well as help our birthday girl reflect on a life of 50 years and where she was at this moment in time. I got to take pictures of her and of gorgeous scenery. We laughed and did silly things, all the while enjoying one another and making memories of a special time with our friend. We remembered stories, and we reminded one another of how God has constantly worked for good. And we held onto each others hearts, marveling at the beauty of steady and consistent friendship, the kind that sees you through your darkest hours, and sticks around for the joy that always follows.<br />
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Before we left our weekend behind, we stopped off at one more restaurant that I had found, <a href="https://www.thestationaery.com/menu">Stationaery,</a> for a lovely brunch (chilaquiles) and suddenly the birthday girl announced, "I'm going to breakdown right now." I looked up to see these tears welling up in her dark eyes, and suddenly looked across at my other friend and mouthed, "What do we do?" to which she just shrugged her shoulders. We let our birthday friend water the table for a bit, and then I said to my other friend, "Should we look at her?" and she replied, "Don't you know anything! Don't look at her." We began laughing and then the birthday girl began to share how she never imagined her 50th year. She never could see far enough ahead to know what 50 would feel like, and never dreamed for herself that 50 would mean peace in her heart, gratitude for her life, and joy in friendships. And the tears were just an overflow of a heart so grateful for God's plan, one that is always greater than our own.<br />
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And as strange and weird of a metaphor as this might be, in this roasted pork belly and the process it must go through, I can see how God molds us. We often use the idea of clay and the master potter to explain how God shapes us, but I am going to create the new (and rather odd) analogy of pork belly and the master chef. The pork belly starts out flabby, undefined, bland, and through a measured seasoning of sugar and salt, cooking at high temperatures and low temperatures, out blossoms a beautiful product. I think we often wish for a life that is simpler, and more straightforward, but there is so much wonder that comes as a result of surviving pain and hardship. We too, must be seasoned and cooked. And this pork belly, after being treated to a variety of processes, exits more beautiful than it began. (not to mention infinitely more delicious and useful, because no one wants to eat raw pork.)<br />
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To my dearest friend on her 50th birthday, God has transformed you the way a chef transforms pork. May I enter my 50's as beautifully and gracefully as you have. All my heart, J.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Roasted Pork Belly </span></b><br />
Serves 10 or more<br />
<i>Preparation note - needs to be prepared at least 8 hours ahead of time before roasting. Roasting time is about 2 hours and 15 minutes. Cooling time is about 45 minutes. </i><br />
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<b>Ingredients </b><br />
5-6 lbs of sliced pork belly (I procure mine from Costco, but Korean and Chinese markets will have. You can purchase either the slab of pork belly or the strips of pork belly)<br />
¼ cup of sugar<br />
¼ cup of salt<br />
Freshly ground pepper<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
At least 8 hours before roasting, preferably the night before, prepare pork. Mix together salt and sugar and set aside. In a heavy roasting pan which will fit the pork snugly, lay out pork, fat side up. Sprinkle pork with sugar salt mixture, making sure to rub it into the side of the pork as well. Sprinkle with pepper. Place pork in fridge, uncovered, for at least 8 hours, a maximum of 24.<br />
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On the roasting day, preheat oven to 450. Before roasting the pork belly, remove the excess liquid which may have formed on the bottom of the roasting pan. (I just tip the pan carefully and allow it to drain into the sink.) Once liquid has been drained off, place pork into the oven to bake for 1 hour. At around the 30 minute mark, baste the pork with the rendered fat, and allow pork to continue cooking.
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At the end of an hour, REDUCE oven temp to 250, and allow pork to cook for another 75 minutes. Remove pork from oven.
Allow pork to cool slightly, and then remove pork from pan and allow it to cool on a plate for about 45 minutes. You CAN eat it straight from the oven, but the slices will be messy and not pretty, (but it will taste really good.) Allowing it to cool for 45 minutes gives you a better opportunity for beautiful slices.<br />
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<b>Serving Ideas</b><br />
My favorite use of this sliced pork belly is in a little mini sandwich on a Kings Hawaiian Roll. With sliced cucumbers, a sliver of scallion, and a drop of hoisin sauce, it is the perfect little bite.<br />
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<br />
Another favorite use of mine is adding it to a composed rice jook dish. This is a warm and comforting dish, made decadent by the roasted pork.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_O_aMFMUpKY4q1nRm4o7wk5K0qGZSSn75JVEmDwtbg_3XST3fo2GNtEiZd8-X-1n5tQEwLC4Dy6mvLxEswYU7z1p9v6IKHynhg2aAqJ3ZkQfDmCCJzBtqQrUpe17__cQpgFjIwlqaqA/s1600/_MG_2298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_O_aMFMUpKY4q1nRm4o7wk5K0qGZSSn75JVEmDwtbg_3XST3fo2GNtEiZd8-X-1n5tQEwLC4Dy6mvLxEswYU7z1p9v6IKHynhg2aAqJ3ZkQfDmCCJzBtqQrUpe17__cQpgFjIwlqaqA/s640/_MG_2298.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Simplest way to enjoy this pork is with rice, sliced cucumbers and kimchi.
<br />
<br />
<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1M9AaFhEBcWdeodbJksO_OKksG5y_Gwv2lzAR1y9D7Ng/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i>Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-31151635389947996902019-01-24T11:12:00.000-08:002019-01-24T11:12:04.771-08:00Furikake Chex Mix: Unexpected Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For P</i><br />
<br />
Nearly a year ago, my friend passed away. I actually wrote a blog post about it: it still sits unpublished in my list of blog posts, raw, emotional, and painful to read. It was an attempt to come to grips with a horrible loss that I couldn't quite get my head around - the words helped, but more than anything I needed time.<br />
<br />
Approximately 365 days later, all those many ticking of days, hours, minutes, seconds even, I find myself thinking of my friend in the most random of times. There was the waiter who looked so much like my friend, sounded like him, and it happened to be on my friend's birthday. Randomly, I had a seven-year old memory pop up on Facebook and there his face was, smiling and playing basketball with my young toddler son, who giggled and looked up at him. And just Sunday, it was talk of the Super Bowl that had me thinking about my friend again.<br />
<br />
Bear in mind, I don't care about football. I don't understand the nuances of the sport, the ball, all the hype, and the plays don't ever make sense to me. But many years ago, during a Super Bowl party at our friend's house, where I only showed up in order to get some of my friend's yummy food, I kept asking questions about the game, and was hushed by the avid football lovers, and my friend, who also loved football, took the time to sit next to me, and explain to me some of the game. I kept telling him it was ok, but he wanted me to participate the same way everyone else was able to, and took the time to explain the meaning of downs, and different maneuvers and all the other questions that burned in my head as I watched the game. I'll be honest - the explanations are vaguely in my head, and I still don't really care that much about football, but it was a moment of his generosity, one that characterized him, that I suddenly remembered Sunday.<br />
<br />
The strange thing about memories is that you never know what will trigger them. And they are these moments that sometimes cause your heart to ache, but also make a smile explode from you heart. And I thought of the many Super Bowls we spent together, eating our friend's delicious food, and just the warm atmosphere of shared space and air. And my heart smiles.<br />
<br />
My friend would have loved this mix - I can see his eyes light up as the bowl gets passed around, his grabbing and holding onto the bowl, and the thoughtful expression that would cross his face as he contemplated the different components of the mix. I can even imagine him picking out one component, and saying something like, "Jo, why is there goldfish in here. Do other mixes use goldfish?"<br />
<br />
This is the perfect thing to have on hand at your Super Bowl party. The trickiest bit is the mixing of all the ingredients with the syrup, and based on my performance today, which ended up with bits of cereal flying onto the floor and getting crushed by my feet, I would recommend using one of those big roasting pans and tossing everything together in that. As it was, I had to use a big bowl and a big pot, and it wasn't gorgeous. In addition, trying to stir everything in a shallow half sheet pan every 10 or 15 minutes or so wasn't easy either. So the takeaway - use a bigger receptacle if you have it available, and if not, just be prepared to lose some mix and be ready to vacuum.<br />
<br />
I came by this recipe from the awesome SK from my church who gifted me a bag and sent me to a link made by Food 52, which is their original recipe <a href="https://food52.com/recipes/78422-furikake-chex-mix-snack">here</a>. This is my version with one of SK's additions (HONEYCOMB CEREAL YES!) as well as my own changeup to make it safer for my peanut allergy kids.<br />
<br />
See you at the Super Bowl everyone. I'll bring the mix.<br />
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<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Furikake Chex Mix </span></b><br />
Makes a lot, especially if you don’t spill it. (Approximately 15 cups of mix by my best estimate)<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients </b><br />
<b>Dry snack mix </b><br />
4 cups Rice Chex cereal<br />
4 cups Corn Chex cereal<br />
4 cups Honeycomb cereal<br />
6.6 ounce bag Pepperidge Farm Cheddar Goldfish<br />
14.5 ounce bag of Bugles or about two bags of 7.5 ounce Bugles<br />
3 cups mini pretzels or bag of pretzel goldfish<br />
6 oz can of honey roasted almonds<br />
<br />
<b>Syrup </b><br />
¾ cup butter (1½ sticks of butter)<br />
½ cup light corn syrup<br />
¼ cup sugar<br />
1 tablespoon soy sauce<br />
<br />
<b>Additional items </b><br />
1.7 ounces furikake (Nori Fomi Furikake is an easily sourced brand, or the one of your choice- just make sure that the furikake only contains sesame seed, salt, sugar, and seaweed.)<br />
Disposable gloves, optional (best mixing utensil for this is really your hands)<br />
2 large sheet pans, or for stirring ease, super-large disposable aluminum roasting pans<br />
<br />
<b>Method </b><br />
Preheat oven to 250°F.<br />
<br />
In a medium pot over medium heat, heat butter, corn syrup, sugar, soy sauce, stirring until sugar is completely dissolved. Remove from heat to cool while preparing the dry mix.<br />
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<br />
In a very large owl (you might need two), combine the Chex cereals, honeycomb cereal, goldfish, pretzels, and almonds.
Mix dry ingredients well.
Carefully add syrup mixture to the large bowl and, using your hands, mix ingredients with syrup well. The goal is to coat as many of the pieces with the syrup, so mix to the best of your abilities. (This is when pieces of cereal start flying.)<br />
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<br />
Bake in the oven for about 1 hour or until the mix is dry (which will depend on the humidity of your local area), removing and mixing trays every 15 minutes.
Once done, remove from oven and cool completely on racks. Serve to as many or as few as you wish.
<br />
<br />
Printable recipe<br />
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-55624195690214598272019-01-22T21:02:00.001-08:002019-01-22T21:45:58.290-08:00Matcha Mochi Cake with Roasted Rice: The Essay Midwife<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My oldest was born by midwife. There was a doctor who showed up at the end, but all he did was verify that my child was intact and whole. The midwife is the woman I remember encouraging me, trying to keep me comfortable, and monitoring me the whole way. When I cried out in pain, she helped me regain my bearings and when I said it was time to push, she was the one who agreed, in fact, it was time to push. She was there when my eldest popped out in the world, and she was the one who held up my baby so that I could see that I had the son that I thought I was going to have. (She laughed and told me to look again, and then I realized that I had a daughter, not a son.)<br />
<br />
But my daughter's birth certificate doesn't bear the name of this woman who sat with me and instead has on it the doctor who showed up for 10 seconds after my daughter was born. His signature verifies that my daughter was born at a certain time and he got credit for her birth, even though it was the midwife who put in the major amount of time with me. And I've long thought about that woman, whose name I don't have on a certificate but whom I will always remember, being by my side the first time I was so scared to have a baby.<br />
<br />
So I do find some humor in the name "The Essay Midwife" which was coined for me by my friend BS, after he watched me work with his son during the college essay process. I think, for the most part, this moniker is the appropriate description for what it is I do when I work with students. Each student has their story, their baby if you will, within their hearts and souls, and it is my job to sit by their side, encourage them, and help them figure out what this story will be. And it also is an appropriate term because so often, so many want to push their essays through, when it isn't ready, and so many struggle with the pain of their story, because their stories are hard to tell. My job is to be nearby, to hold their hand, to encourage them, to whisper that it will be worth it after they struggle, and that there will be something wonderful to read at the end of all the crazy months of answering question after question, and writing words, sentences, and paragraphs ad nauseam.<br />
<br />
Every year I say I will stop the job, because the job is grueling. I never celebrate my birthday as November 1 is an Early Decision/Early Action deadline and every year SOMEONE is trying to finish something by midnight that evening. Christmas every year is tricky because I generally allow students to have a break during their finals and then I demand their time during Christmas vacation. Countering all of those demands are the demands of my own family, and trying to be present for them when I am most definitely distracted by the words that need to be written by these college-bound seniors. And yet every year, at the end of it all, I am somehow immensely satisfied. I love seeing all the letters in black and white framing a tiny snapshot representing a human being. I love the mental challenge of trying to figure out how to get students to the final product we can all live with. But most of all, I am enthralled and in awe of students and their stories and experiences and the reflection that they allow themselves to engage in, to measure their time on earth during a brief six month frenzy of applying to colleges.<br />
<br />
I am fiercely committed to the idea that applying to colleges is a rite of passage. You'll notice I say applying to college and not going to college. In order to figure out where a student will go, the process of trying to know oneself through the application essays is an essential part of a student's journey to knowing him or herself. My process has never been focused on getting a student in to the "right school" or a "name brand institution" but about understanding and framing the experiences that have already happened, so that students can learn about themselves. More than a few students call this a form of "therapy" as I ask numerous open-ended questions in the quest to find that thing to make the essay sing. Each student requires different types of questions, and every student has a different writing process. Some get the assignment and just start writing all sorts of verbal diarrhea, and my job is to go and dig through the flood of words and find those sentences that are the most revealing and magical. Others will sit in front of a blank document, unwilling to commit the swirl of words that move in their heads onto the screen, as they sometimes fear exactly what those words would mean in black and white. With these students my job is to prod, to cajole, to nudge, and to encourage them that words and the mere placement of them onto the screen does not imply firm commitment to an idea or feeling, but rather allows the feeling and idea to live for a moment, so that it can be fully understood as being valid or not. Still other students struggle because their pain and sadness is deep, and addressing it seems too hard. My job in those moments is to validate and acknowledge the pain and sadness and also try and convince them that writing about it will help make processing it a little easier.<br />
<br />
I'm the midwife to these students and these essays. My job is to help facilitate their birth into black and white letters on a Google doc. My job is to help students realize that within them, they already have a story worth writing. My job is to teach them how to find their story and how to tell it in the most compelling way. My job is never writing the story for them or telling them which story will get them into the right school. At the end of it all, I see all those essays, gathering in a folder, and I smile at the joy of it all. Every student does have a story, and one worth telling. They can be complex, sweet, tender, harsh, but always delicious in its own right.<br />
<br />
And that long intro brings me to this mochi cake, this tender, wonderfully chewy, crispy, flavored mochi cake, which is simultaneously easy to make, yet wonderful to enjoy. Each bite is a little different, as some bites will afford you a bit of the crispy brown top, or a bit of the chewy edge, while others leave you chewing and savoring the smooth middle. It's a cake I've made in a large sheet pan, and also in smaller little muffin tins, and mini bundt cake pans. It works in multiple forms and is delicious and just tastes so good.<br />
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<br />
There are a couple of special ingredients - pictured here.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Green tea (not super expensive- culinary grade is fine.) and roasted rice tea. I found both at my local Japanese market.</div>
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<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Matcha Mochi Cake with Roasted Rice
</span></b><br />
Makes 9x13 pan, 12 smaller bundt cakes, 64 mini cakes<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients </b><br />
1 lb box of mochiko flour (3 cups equivalent)<br />
2 ½ cups of sugar<br />
1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder<br />
3 tablespoons of matcha powder<br />
1 teaspoon salt<br />
2 14 oz cans of coconut milk - not lowfat<br />
5 large eggs<br />
½ stick of butter (¼ cup of butter) melted and slightly cooled<br />
Bag of roasted rice tea (to be sprinkled on top of cake)<br />
<br />
<b>Method </b><br />
Preheat oven to 350.<br />
<br />
Grease WELL a 9X13 baking pan or the pan of your choice.<br />
<br />
In a large mixing bowl, whisk together mochiko flour, sugar, baking powder, matcha powder and salt.
<br />
In a separate bowl or large measuring cup (4 cup capacity), beat eggs, then add coconut milk, and melted butter.
Carefully pour the wet ingredients over the mochiko flour mixture and whisk until mixture is smooth and uniform in texture.<br />
<br />
Pour batter into greased pan of your choice. If you are using a bundt cake pan, liberally sprinkle roasted rice on bottom of pan. If you’re using standard muffin tins or 9x13 pan, sprinkle roasted rice after you’ve poured the batter.<br />
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Baking time depends on the size of your pan - small muffin tins are between 15-25 minutes, larger tins can be 35-45 minutes, and the mini bundt pans are about an hour. The full 9x13 pan takes 90 minutes, but bake until the tops are golden and the sides look like they are pulling away from the side a bit.
Allow cake to cool for about 30 minutes on a rack, and then carefully flip it out and cut into 24 squares, or the size of your choice. Can store mochi cake for three days, covered.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1cj83F7pTBHOc89BWfRpDrMVqWOCqBcQhCIq6UpOSnE8/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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Love the green. Makes me happy.</div>
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<br />Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-79732918487892274732018-09-12T19:28:00.001-07:002018-09-13T15:22:50.389-07:00Grand Chocolate Chip Hazelnut Cookies: On the challenge of simple things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been many many months since my last post, mostly because I was trying to keep afloat during a house remodeling project that threatened to drown me every single day. My personal dislike of large expenditures of cash, conversations with too many people, and codes and processes unfamiliar needing to be navigated daily put me in a mood that was challenging to pop out of. I'll spare everyone the gory details of the day to day, but instead focus on the one really interesting aspect of home remodeling that came to light for me.<br />
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My normal introvert nature was at odds with the needs of the job, and I found myself engaging in many different conversations with many different people. I had to open myself up to unexpected meetings and words with people that I probably would have not paid attention to in my normal mode, and only did so because these people were building my home. I took a step back and made a conscious effort to try and see these individuals as human beings, people worth a moment of caring and connection, not because I thought they'd "fix my house better" for doing so, but rather it was the only way to make the work I had to do bearable for myself. It was with this attitude I found myself having fun and interesting relationships with many of the subs on my job, mainly because I think they reminded me of the students I taught, long ago when I was young and energetic.<br />
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And with a couple of the subs, we had deeper conversations about life and the way we live it. I found ways to encourage them to read more, and even write more in the form of hard won words and letters, as a way of self expression. I longed to see these young people find joy in the work that they did as well as joy in the process of continuing to learn, whether through books, through conversations with people unlike them, or with travel and experiences. In particular, two subs who worked on my house and I had a lot of fun conversations, where we even shared moments of writing together. The writing teacher in me never dies and I always want to see people write and continue to write long after school ends. And then one day, all the work on the house stopped and all these people I had spent time with were gone.<br />
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It was a sort of graduation, if you will, the moment that a teacher sends out her students and forever wonders what happened to them. Of course this is not that level of departure, but it is sort of a question I have, wondering if I was able to impact them in the way I hoped to, while still being reminded of the way they made me think about those simple things like written words again. In other words, I would like to think there was a mutual touching of lives.<br />
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So why this story with this cookie? This cookie is all about making an impact with simplicity. I was inspired by the Levain Bakery chocolate chip walnut cookie, of which there is no official recipe available, but I began experimenting heavily over the past two weeks. I will not tell you of the many pounds of butter, sugar, and chocolate chips I've gone through in an effort to perfect this cookie, but this is my take on a grand chocolate chip cookie. The most complicated thing about this cookie is the need for 3 different flours, but aside from that, it reads like a fairly standard chocolate chip cookie recipe. The ingredients are simple, and you only make 8 or 9 cookies per batch. And then you take those big cookies, and pass them out, one at a time to different folks whom you'd like to give them to, and you await them to tell you it is the best thing they've eaten. (and they will do that.) Or maybe they'll eat it, think of you and remember that you were the person who gave them an amazing cookie. Either way, don't keep all the cookies for yourself because that is dangerous.<br />
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The cookie is designed to be crispy on the outside with a slightly gooey interior--not raw mind you-- but just undercooked.<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Grand Chocolate Chip Hazelnut Cookies</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Makes 8 or 9 large 6 oz cookies</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ingredients</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 cup (two sticks) unsalted butter, cut into tablespoons</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">½ cup light brown sugar</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">¾ cup sugar</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2 eggs</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 cup cake flour</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 cup all purpose flour </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">¾ cup bread flour</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 teaspoon baking powder</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">½ teaspoon baking soda</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 teaspoon coarse sea salt</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2 cups toasted hazelnuts (Trader Joe’s has toasted hazelnuts ready to go)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2 cups (12 oz) semi sweet chocolate chips (see notes below)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Method</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper or use a silicone mat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In a medium bowl, mix together all flours, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Set aside. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Using an electric mixer, beat butter on low speed until softened. Add both sugars and beat on low speed until uniform. Scrape down sides with spatula. Add eggs, one at a time at low speed until just incorporated. (Do not be tempted to over beat on high as it will cause unnecessary puff and then collapse of your cookie.) Add flour mixture all at once. Mix on low speed, until just combined. Add hazelnuts and chocolate chips at the same time. Mix until JUST combined.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Using a food scale, weigh out 6 ozs or 170 grams of cookie dough. Do not be tempted to shape them into perfect round baseballs - an organic blob of dough is what you are looking for. You should be able to get 8 or 9 cookies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you do not have a food scale, do not worry, and instead divide the dough into 8 equal parts. The weight won’t be perfect but you’ll be close. (Divide dough in half, and then each half into half, and each of the quarters into half again.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Place in oven. If you have a convection oven, your baking time will be 12-13 minutes. If you have a standard oven, baking time is 16-17 minutes. Watch the cookies at the very end to make sure they are golden brown but not burnt. (I made this mistake too many times.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Remove cookies from oven and allow them to cool in the pan for 15 minutes. DO NOT TOUCH THEM OR MOVE THEM until the 15 minutes are up. You want the cookies to set up and firm up so that it’s not an ooey-gooey disaster.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Enjoy! (Best enjoyed day of)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1J1NW2yRJ-UtlcQAhJrGxlNSSfRCw51VYGBysXC8u0bs/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think it tastes best with a cup of coffee. Mine. All. Mine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">NOTE: The chocolate chip I love in this cookie (for it's shape and overall sweetness balance) is Guittard's Super Cookie Chip. The challenge is the chocolate comes in a 10 oz bag, not 12 oz, and pours out to about 1 3/4 cups of chocolate chips, not the 2 cups (12 oz) which makes this cookie. So I use MORE than a single bag, but if you try this chip, you'll see it's worth it. </span></span><br />
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-29013532329796175422018-01-10T10:18:00.000-08:002018-01-11T12:59:20.993-08:00Chocolate Chip Sea Salt Cookies: Love and Grief<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>For the sweet K Family P, T, E, and Baby E - forever in my heart</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Friends of mine lost their baby and asked me to speak at their baby's memorial service. These are my words.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />There is a strange, dreamlike quality that comes over parents the moment they discover they are pregnant — such hope and elation and promise of what will come in nine months. They are excited and desire to tell people, but hold onto their secret until things are “safe” and things from a medical perspective are secure. Only then do they tell people who are overjoyed for them, and many who also suspected all along. And I, along with so many others, enjoy these happy revelations of babies to come.<br /><br />But my first news about Baby E was not to be as such. TK came to me for some thoughts and possibly words of comfort and hope I could offer, based on my own experience with my brother, who also had challenges with not so positive news about his twins. And the pain in her voice as she she shared Baby E’s diagnosis of Trisomy 18, and while she asked the questions and asked to hear my own testimony, weighed on me. I had no right answers, no words to take her pain, but I did tell her something that pressed on my heart at the time — God didn’t want her and PK to have to have the burden of choosing what to do with Baby E. That instead, she and PK could wait, if that seemed like something they wanted to do — to simply wait.<br /><br />The decision to not terminate the pregnancy, one that PK and TK made after lots of soul searching, website reading, pastor talking, information gathering, ultimately was a decision that went against the advice of many around them, but I know it was a decision they came to with fervent prayer and consideration. This was a decision they were leaving to God, and in the wait, they discovered things about themselves and demonstrated to those around them character that encouraged and challenged. The subsequent six months of waiting would reveal to them their own personal courage and strength to trust God when the circumstances were against them. And most importantly, the wait gave them an opportunity to love Baby E, in a way that maybe doesn’t make sense to some. This love of Baby E, very much a powerful love, is ultimately an imperfect reflection of God’s love. To love a child not yet born, is very much how God has loved all his children.<br /><br />There are a few images that I keep in my head, to remind me of specific words and emotions that I may want to capture in words at a later date. There is one that I have in my head of the first time I saw Baby E, which was in a hospital room at Stanford, this tiny little wisp of a body, in the arms of his dad, who had all of his many, many biceps bulging at various angles, holding him. It is an image of grief, which I’ve come to understand as a form of extreme love when it confronts death. As an observer to this grief and love, I was left breathless. As TK lay in the bed, responding to our mundane questions about her operation and recovery, I was distracted by PK holding Baby E. I could not take my eyes off of them, together, PK rocking his son, proudly showing us his child, and all the while tears were in his eyes as he tried to process what had happened to his hope to hold his child alive, and his hope to see his love for Baby E returned. It’s an image of unrequited love — not of the kind that we are used to thinking of, but this love of a child so powerful and so pure, to not have returned back, in the form of cries and gurgles and beautiful eyes staring back. <br /><br />PK asked all of us if we wanted to hold him, and we all took turns. When mine came, I looked down at Baby E, noted his perfect head, his hair like his sister’s, his nose shaped like TK’s, his 10 fingers, his ears, and his body, light because it had not Baby E’s spirit. And I confronted a little bit of that grief in the room in that moment — I had a chance to see what was lost, and the smallest sliver of understanding of their grief. I also know that there was a day when they had to leave Baby E behind, to say their final goodbyes to the physical representation of the waiting and hoping they had done, and I don’t have the words to capture what I don’t think I can fully understand. Because after their wait, PK and TK had to leave their son behind.<br /><br />But I know Baby E has left his mark on this world and being this accidental outside observer to his life has taught me some things.<br /><br />While PK and TK waited, they loved courageously and they loved fearlessly. They loved fully, even while knowing the risks, and just loved Baby E unconditionally. They did not know what was to come at the end of their waiting, but just opened their hearts to love him. It’s the way God has told us to love, the way God loves us, but a way that is hard to do in a world where we love with condition and love while measuring risk. I am challenged to love people better after witnessing this kind of fierce and wild love. <br /><br />I’ve also learned that my brain is teeny tiny compared to the vastness of God and His purpose. As much as I’ve questioned God, tried reasoning with Him, and asking WHY, I’ve come to a place where I know that I cannot minimize God’s design and make it possible for me to understand. I don’t have to understand God completely to know that God loves PK, TK, EK, and Baby E. There is perfection in His love that defies feeble human understanding. <br /><br />Baby E has also taught me that even if time is so short and brief, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">we can make an impact on those around us, and that should be first and foremost our desire on this earth: to touch lives, to create change, to leave our own fingerprints on others by sharing love and goodness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Thank you PK and TK, Baby E, for allowing me to witness, record, and share your great love, your sacrifice, and your lasting impact. <br /><br />*****<br /><br />Many of you ask, why this post with this cookie? Because in life's beautiful way, after a heart-wrenching memorial service, the mourners gathered in the home of the K family, to share food, to laugh, to soak in that spirit of love in the face of grief. Even in this sad moment, humans have the endurance and strength to laugh and remind themselves of the hope that still exists after death. Life continues — a different color certainly, but the days continue to pass all too quickly. And in this space, I ate a chocolate chip cookie from a bakery (<a href="https://www.neighborsf.com/menu/">Neighbor Bakehouse </a>in Dogpatch), and I went up to PK and I said, "THIS COOKIE IS AMAZING! and NOW I WANT TO BEAT IT!" because it tasted so good. And PK laughed and said, "You like that? I'll be happy to judge." For a brief moment, grief subsided and there was the reminder that my competitive nature still rears its ugly head. <br /><br />This is, of course, a chocolate chip cookie - a fine one, if I might brag. It does have some special ingredients (chocolate disks vs. chips), a touch of special technique (brown butter), and the requirement of a bit of resting time (at least 6 hours). And after making it, take a moment and relish the life we have and the life we get to live, in all its many shades of grief, love, and joy.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Chocolate Chip Sea Salt Cookies</span></b><br />
(adapted from <a href="http://ragebake.com/blog/2017/5/15/chocolate-chip-cookie-day">Rage and Bake</a>)<br />
Makes 20-24 cookies<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter<br />
2 cups all-purpose flour<br />
1 teaspoon baking soda<br />
¾ teaspoon kosher salt<br />
1 cup packed light brown sugar<br />
½ cup granulated sugar<br />
2 large eggs, room temperature<br />
2 teaspoons vanilla extract<br />
¾ cup Heath Bits o’brickle<br />
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1½ cups chocolate disks (I like Guittard - experiment with different levels of sweetness in their disk offerings to find the best balance for your taste)<br />
Flaky sea salt<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
Oven will need to be preheated to 375, but due to the resting period involved in these cookies, there will be no need to preheat until after mixture has been made and rested for at least 6 hours.<br />
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Cook butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat, stirring often, until it foams, then browns, 5–8 minutes. Scrape into a mixing bowl and let cool slightly.<br />
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In a large mixing bowl, add both sugars, baking soda, salt and mix these dry ingredients well. Add browned butter. Using an electric mixer on medium speed, beat until incorporated, about 1 minute. Add eggs and vanilla and beat until mixture lightens and begins to thicken, about 30 seconds. Reduce mixer speed to low; add flour and beat just to combine. Remove mixer blades. The rest of the mixing will be done by hand.<br />
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Mix in toffee pieces and chocolate wafers with a wooden spoon or a rubber spatula. Cover dough well, and refrigerate, allowing the flour to hydrate. Dough seem runny at first, but will thicken as it sits.<br />
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Allow dough to warm up at room temperature about 30 minutes. Place a rack in middle of oven; preheat to 375. Scoop and shape 6 to 8 ping pong ball-sized dough balls and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet, spacing about 3" apart. Leave plenty of room as these cookies spread. Do not flatten. Sprinkle with sea salt.<br />
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Bake cookies until edges are golden brown and firm 9–11 minutes. Let cool on baking sheets 10 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely. Repeat with remaining dough. <br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OpmeK6tDSuj88397vQJY_1835izpxPlYnzL2u7Vy3g0/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-79923948145031713272017-11-17T14:10:00.000-08:002017-11-17T14:10:09.074-08:00Giveaway: Hip Hip Hooray! Let's have a giveaway!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Reader,<br />
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It has been far too long, but I have not forgotten you. I have thought of you often, mostly when I ate something delicious, or cooked something so simple and magical. I have wondered, "When can I tell my reader about THIS?" but the logistics of time and energy have not been on my side these past few weeks.<br />
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But that does not mean I have not meant to write or say something to you. In fact, I've been working hard on this little giveaway sponsored by Hatchette Book Group, something I'm super excited about. It took more time than I had anticipated, because I wanted to try a couple of little things before getting the book out there to my readers.<br />
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Simple things like egg and toast become a little more special with Gail Simmons' touch - probably because she has a lot of Top Chef experience and she's just in general, a foodie. I made this little spread for myself - the perfectly soft boiled egg with some crusty bread spread with homemade flavored cilantro butter - and the combo - COME ON!! So good. (and the little egg cups, I bought at CostPlus World Markets for $.99)<br />
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I also tried out the Piri Piri chicken dish, mostly because I have long wanted to try a heavy spice rub on some chicken. I did it on a whole roasted chicken, which was great, but also tried it on some chicken wings which was ALSO delicious. I'll definitely be making this more than once.<br />
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The book is filled with lots of fun things to make - for the more adventurous types of cooks, there are new and interesting flavors to experiment with (Dukkah anyone?) and for those who prefer old favorites, the Spaghetti with Burst Tomatoes looks both comforting and delicious. There are basic tips with in, along with more masterful ideas that I haven't fully digested yet. I love the book because she's not afraid of flavors from any culture, perhaps a reflection of the times - food is delicious, and there are so many cultures and tastes that have much to offer the cooking landscape.<br />
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I get to give away not one, but TWO copies of this book - and so if you look at the Rafflecopter below, you'll see all the ways you can increase your chances of winning. This giveaway is only good to those in the continental US (sorry international readers) but if you are international, and know that you're going to visit sometime soon, I'm sure we can work something out!<br />
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Thanks to Hatchette Book Group for sponsoring and Gail Simmons for continuing the quest of good food. Can't wait to see you all soon!<br />
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<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-77451296853460434672017-09-30T23:28:00.000-07:002017-09-30T23:28:10.950-07:00Roasted Scallion Shallot Dip: The things worth waiting for<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For my CH girls... the writing is on the wall - 2020.</i><br />
<br />
I'm coming off of a marathon 24-hour visit with my old friends and besties from my 20's. I was able to see each of them individually last year, but the last time we had gathered as a fivesome was 2011, the year I turned 40. In a lucky turn of events, and by scheduling and canceling our duties as mothers, wives, employees, teachers, book fair chairs, we managed to gather 5 of us - one from NYC, another from Boston, yet another from Irvine, and the two Bay area locals. It seemed almost a far flung fantasy to be able to bring together busy women, but somehow a reunion happened.<br />
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People will ask what happened during this packed 24 hours: We ate decent food, drank some boba, and drove around a 10-year-old minivan. We embarked on the simplest of pleasures, the one of time with people you love, location and activity falling by the wayside. We made certain to get all of us in the same car, seated at a small table, trying the same things, walking the same streets. But there is alchemy in the combination of time and friends; suddenly there is laughter so loud and long that our stomaches ached and our faces nearly cracked, new inside jokes that sent us into peals of laughter anytime someone brought it up. We found ways to weave in strands of our current individual struggles in our lives - as wives, mothers, daughters, as human beings, and in sharing, received patient listening ears of non-judgement and understanding. We did not waste a minute of time together. Even sitting to catch our breath, we were surrounded by the golden hue of friendship, long forged in our two decades of time, molded by love and laughter.<br />
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The 24 hours were over too fast. Each minute was long and amazing in the moment, too short in the passing. But that golden taste lingers and leaves me smiling, satiating that place that only true friendship can touch.<br />
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The takeaway from this experience is the alchemy of simplicity. We focused not on the external experiences of where to eat, reservations, where to stay, what to do, but instead pared everything back to simple single focus of breathing the same air in the room. And what a joyful room it was.<br />
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In cooking, everyone is prone to focus on the complicated and the involved aspects of the experience, when really it should be about the single focus of getting food on the table to eat and enjoy. I've found myself seeking those different dishes, the ones that I can do quickly but end up tasting amazing, as the hours I have to cook have dramatically shrunk. This dip - of few ingredients and some oven time, is a magic all of its own, an alchemist's reaction of simple base things coming together into something far greater than the ingredients alone. Some scallion, shallots, chives mixed with mayonnaise and sour cream becomes the reason your friends won't leave you and instead gather around you to enjoy what belongs on a chip in a room of friends.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Roasted Scallion Shallot Dip</span></b><br />
Makes a generous 2 cups, perfect for snacking or a party<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
36 scallions, root portion cut off, roughly chopped<br />
4 shallots, thinly sliced<br />
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil<br />
Kosher salt<br />
1 cup sour cream<br />
½ cup mayonnaise<br />
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice<br />
½ cup minced fresh chives<br />
Freshly ground pepper<br />
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Potato chips or crackers for serving<br />
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<b>Method</b><br />
Preheat oven to 425. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.<br />
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Put the scallions and shallots on the prepared sheet, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons salt. Toss scallions and shallots so that all the pieces have been coated in oil. Spread across the baking sheet into an even layer. Roast in oven for 10 minutes, stir, then finish roasted for another 10 to 15 minutes until softened and browned in spots. Let cool to room temperature.<br />
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Transfer scallions to bowl of food processor. Pulse until roughly chopped. In a medium sized bowl, mix together sour cream, mayonnaise and lemon juice. Add scallion shallot mixture, mix and taste. Add pepper and more salt if necessary. Add chopped chives. Stir and store in an airtight container for up to 3 days.<br />
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Serve with chips, crackers, and friends.<br />
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<a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ik0MRctk9jmU2BRFClyE7q2JB_xrGyFCMdYO9ZYtIYE/edit?usp=sharing"><br /></a>
<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ik0MRctk9jmU2BRFClyE7q2JB_xrGyFCMdYO9ZYtIYE/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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Simple</div>
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Joanne Choihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03378851870526242783noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6747618293350122712.post-12207457170211755412017-09-03T18:46:00.001-07:002017-09-03T18:49:39.514-07:00Shrimp and Corn Chowder: Encouraging that passion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>For you, AK, maker of great chicken</i><br />
<br />
If anyone wants to know what sort of students I teach, I have no one single answer. I've made it a personal goal that the students who end up at my door, asking for writing challenges and support, come from various walks of life, ethnicities, life stages, and abilities. My students are from over 10 different schools and range in ages from the elementary school to post college. I like to teach all different needs of students for one primary reason: I don't want to get stale teaching the same type of student and I don't want to get bored of my work. The variety of students in my pot are what keeps the day to day work super interesting.<br />
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One of my students attends a progressive and innovative local school, and this summer he had to do a passion project. There was some sort of abbreviated "passion defining" process the school required that he went through online with me, and while answering these questions about his "passion" I had a running conversation with him. His initial passion was basketball, for which I said measuring and executing passion in a meaningful way this summer doing basketball would be challenging. I offered him cooking as another idea, and his eyes lit up and he said, "I can do that. I want to try that."<br />
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For a couple of weeks, he and I did some cooking together, and mostly I would leave him in my kitchen with some instructions and a recipe that we had chosen together, and he would try and execute it to the best of his ability. I would often be teaching while he would be prepping ingredients and then in between sessions I'd pop my head out and check to make sure things were going well. A part of the reason why I was excited about his cooking was his ability to directly impact his own family - with two working parents with busy schedules, meals at home were hurried and in short supply. A part of his focus was being able to alleviate some of the pressure on his parents to provide meals. We did BBQ chicken, salad, grilled corn among our dishes. (extra side benefit for me - he cooked, my family ate too!)<br />
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We also worked on a chowder. I was in midst of some experimentation of flavors like shrimp and corn and asked if he might want to help out and he came over and we made simple meal of chowder and to be served with crusty bread. (again my family benefitted) The chowder is so simple and easy and yet so satisfying and delicious it's hard not to love it. It comes together quickly with some straightforward ingredients and becomes an elegant and scrumptious meal. Our entire family (minus the dairy allergy son) loves it and we have it fairly often as a light dinner on its own or part of a larger meal. Enjoy!<br />
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P.S. I'm happy to say that this project has made him excited about cooking for his family and given him motivation to cook more for his family.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Shrimp and Corn Chowder</span></b><br />
Serves 4 as a main course, 6 as a first course<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
1 tablespoon unsalted butter<br />
2 slices of bacon, chopped into small pieces<br />
2 cups corn kernels (fresh off the cob is best, but go ahead and use canned or frozen if that is what you have available - reserve cob if you are using fresh corn))<br />
3 scallions, finely chopped, both green and white parts<br />
3 garlic cloves, finely minced<br />
½ teaspoon crushed red pepper (less if you’re worried about it being too spicy)<br />
4 tablespoons flour<br />
4 cups dashi stock, fish stock, shrimp stock or some clam juice mixed with water<br />
¼ cup creme fraiche or heavy whipping cream<br />
1 ½ lbs peeled and deveined shrimp, cut into nice bite sized pieces<br />
<br />
<b>Method</b><br />
In a heavy saucepan over medium high heat, melt butter and cook bacon until golden brown, about 4 minutes. Add corn, scallions, garlic, and crushed red pepper and cook, stirring frequently until corn is crisp tender, about 4 minutes. <br />
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Add flour all at once, and cook, coating all the ingredients in flour another minute. Add stock all at once, and if you have the corn cobs, add corn cobs for extra corn flavor. Cook until thickened, about 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.<br />
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Remove corn cobs (if you used) and add shrimp and creme fraiche and cook until shrimp is pink and opaque, about 3 to 4 minutes.<br />
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Serve warm, with a garnish of scallions if desired.<br />
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<i><a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Pz9Mucf7pp4wMfh_GC1wtHfQWWBKyOpayh_ejE-iPl0/edit?usp=sharing">Printable recipe</a></i><br />
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