Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) ingredients; appreciation for culture

I’ve never been a pro medicine person. I avoid pain medications for as long as I can possibly stand, which is a bit odd to say because luckily, I rarely have a need for them unless I’m having a god-awful period, or suddenly a headache is coming on. I would much rather do whatever “natural” remedy out there exists. For period pain, if possible, I would use a heat pack on my abdomen. For headaches at night, I would rather just sleep it off or drink more water. But sometimes, the medication is absolutely vital, like when you get pertussis (good ol’ whooping cough!) or a peri-tonsillar abscess (the miserable joy from last November that I would much rather forget ever happened to me). Then, you have to take the damn pills and give in.

I never thought much about Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) even though I was given endless tonics, herbal teas, and soups lovingly made by my grandma, mom, and aunt growing up. They always said that at a given time of year (depending on the season), your body needs these herbs or these berries or special ingredients. I generally just smiled and nodded, obediently drinking or consuming whatever they gave me and assuming that it really was all good for my health. It’s not that I ever doubted it; it’s more that I wasn’t sure how much “better off” I was now that I had consumed said soup or tonic. I didn’t start actively thinking about TCM until I got pregnant in 2021 and was carrying my Kaia Pookie. Then suddenly, I was reading about all the benefits of all these Eastern ingredients and assuming that of course, they all must be nourishing and making my baby and me stronger! I wanted whatever natural remedies and herbs were out there to help me recovery more quickly and to potentially help give me a good milk supply!

One of my best friends is about to give birth any hour now. And I told her that I would make some of these TCM herbal teas and soups for her after she came home. So now, I’m once again immersed in all the ingredients. I had to restock a bunch of things I ran out of from my postpartum period, and I went to a herbal shop in Chinatown today with English/Chinese/pinyin notes ready in case I couldn’t find what I wanted and needed help. This was my list:

Red dates (hong zao): High in antioxidants; “heaty,” so good for postpartum recovery and “warming the body”

Dang shen root: Good for restoring “qi” or vital energy; helps combat fatigue and exhaustion; nourishes blood, supports digestion by strengthening spleen and stomach; boosts immunity; like “poor man’s ginseng” because it’s milder but still beneficial

Goji berries (gou qi): Combats fatigue, boosts immune system, high antioxidants

Dried wild yam slices (huai shan): Restores energy and vitality; good for kidney health, can increase milk production, cleanses system after giving birth, helps with hormone balance

Dried longan (gui yuan gan or long yan gan): Improves blood circulation, increases energy and vitality; can increase milk production

Astralagus root (huang qi): Immunity boosting, high in antioxidants, good for kidney function and sleep quality

Dried hawthorn berries (shan zha): Rich in antioxidants, boosts digestion, improves skin health

I suppose it’s true that with age, we start believing more of what our elders taught us when we were young. I guess that may be the reason, along with my general anti-medicine approach, that I’ve started reading more about TCM. In the last two years, I’ve gotten more into making nourishing, homey Chinese soups; it’s made me realize that many times, less actually can be more. And I’ve also read more about what traditional Chinese herbs and ingredients I could incorporate into everyday cooking. It’s not only been fascinating and fun to learn about, but the other way I look at this is that I’m delving into yet another aspect of my (Chinese) culture that I hadn’t previously paid much attention to. No, I won’t be using or suggesting any of these herbs to cure anyone’s cancer or HIV, but I do believe that a lot of these herbs can play a role in everyday health maintenance and wellness, so why not incorporate them? Plus, it’s another way to diversify one’s diet and ensure you’re eating more plants, which is a win for anyone!

Making banh xeo after 3.5 years and paying it forward with baby gear

I hosted some friends over for lunch today and decided to make a Vietnamese meal. After spending the last two weeks eating a lot of Peruvian and Ecuadorian food, I was definitely feeling a craving for something Vietnamese. I thought about one of my favorite Vietnamese dishes, banh xeo, and decided that this would be the weekend I’d make it! I thought about the last time I’d made this dish, and I realized it wasn’t since November 2021, or just a few weeks before I gave birth to Kaia. Then, I also made it for a lunch I was hosting. During that lunch in this very same apartment, some friends came out from Long Island to drop off several boxes worth of baby gear they were either giving us as brand new (because they never got to using them) or lightly used. So, it’s been 3.5 years since I last made this dish at home. Then, I was welcoming friends over who were handing down baby items to us. This lunch, I am handing down baby items to these other friends, including the stroller that we used regularly for over 2.5 years. All these baby items are expensive and add up, plus they take up space. So, I was happy to give new life to a lot of these items, as well as clear space in my closets!

Then when I made banh xeo, I am willing to bet I made it in either my Scanpan (in other words, “fake” or “healthier” nonstick) or in a ceramic pan (also seemingly fake since the ceramic coating barely lasts at all!). This time was the very first time I was not using a nonstick pan; instead, I was using my carbon steel pan and was a bit wary of whether the crepe would stick and make a mess. But, I figured that since these are supposed to be my “forever” and “healthy” pans that I had to give it a try. If this works with banh xeo, then my next step would be to try out making my beloved banh cuon in them!

Somehow, I was able to get it. After a few tries, I was able to get the crepe to release itself from the pan, and the crispiness turned out well. I did experience some hot spots where some parts crisped (and almost burnt) more than others, but I realized that yes, I could successfully make banh xeo in my carbon steel pans as long as I had the heat calibrated just right. It just takes some patience; each banh xeo needs about 10 minutes of cooking time to fully cook through, crisp up, and properly release from the pan. As I kept cooking, I also got those beautiful lacy edges on the crepe that I love so much (and are particularly crispy!).

Banh xeo is a food to share. Whether eaten and wrapped in rice paper or lettuce with herbs, it’s a food that really makes eating a true “activity.” So I’m happy to make it for loved ones who can appreciate that it’s a labor of love, but also a labor of deliciousness.

Sichuan style cabbage, elevated with premium ingredients

Ever since I splurged on a number of premium Sichuanese Chinese ingredients on Mala Market, I’ve never looked back. Every single ingredient I’ve purchased that I’ve either tested or used in cooking has been really exceptional and quite worth the relatively higher price I paid for the items. This week, I’ve been busy clearing out the fridge in preparation for our two weeks away in South America. I picked up a small head of Napa cabbage and used half of it for my lion’s head meatball braise, but I still had another half head to use up. So, I decided to prepare the cabbage Sichuanese stir-fry style with lots of garlic, Baoning Sichuanese black vinegar, Zhongba soy sauce, and toasted Mala Market Sichuan red peppercorns. And I’ll be honest: while the Chinese historically have loved cabbage and consider it one of the best vegetables on earth, I…. think it’s just fine. It’s a good vegetable, but it’s not in my top five or even ten. Whenever I have the choice of pork and chive vs. pork and cabbage dumplings, 10 times out of 10, I will always choose pork and chive. But when the cabbage is prepared like this with these premium ingredients, this vegetable almost becomes good enough to be a standalone dish on its own. After I tasted a few bites of it after cooking it, I could totally imagine myself eating just this cabbage stir-fry with some rice. It was that good. Chris, who is not usually a cabbage fan and eats it begrudgingly at the beginning of his meal to get to the “better” foods, even admitted it was “very good.”

Kao fu (seitan) and shi zi tou (Lion’s Head meatballs)

I look back on my childhood dining-out experiences, and almost all the meals out with family were Cantonese Chinese family-style meals. We always went to a no-frills Cantonese spot in the neighborhood that my grandma or aunt liked, and given we were with my grandma, aunt, uncle, and three sons, we always had a large table with a big lazy Susan in the middle. The few times when we were taking out someone “special” (some random relative or family friend who “had money”) as a guest of honor, my aunt or uncle would choose a fancier Chinese place that was a bit more upscale. At these rare fancy meals, the dinner would always start with an assortment of small plates, cold dishes that consisted of a variety of flavors, textures, and heat levels. The one that consistently showed up that I remember with fondness was hong shao kao fu (braised Shanghainese style seitan). I never knew what the heck it was. All I knew was that it was sweet, salty, umami, and had a variety of fun textures. I remember the meaty shiitake mushrooms, the crunchy cloud ear mushrooms, and some strange, squishy, meaty sponge-like thing that was almost like tofu, but not quite. As an adult, I later learned that this was called “seitan,” also known as wheat gluten, and was a popular meat substitute and source of protein for vegetarians/Buddhists. I also liked the slight crunch from the peanuts that were braised in the same liquid/sauce.

I finally made this seitan dish for the first time last year and was surprised how straightforward and easy it was. From my memory, it’s likely the very first Shanghainese dish I was ever exposed to. The second Shanghainese dish I had that I liked, which I wasn’t exposed to until I was in college with my Chinese teacher and our classmates, was shi zi tou, or Lion’s Head Meatballs. These are not made with lion meat (um, endangered and exotic), but rather with fatty pork, lean pork, and water chestnuts for crunchy texture. I made both of these dishes today for a mini ode to my Shanghainese Chinese teacher for my first two years of college. She not only taught me Mandarin Chinese language and more Chinese culture, but she was also responsible for giving me exposure to Shanghainese/Jiangnan style Chinese food, which was severely lacking in San Francisco (and even if it was plentiful, it would have been highly unlikely my very biased Cantonese family would have wanted to patronize those places).

You could spend your entire life learning about and making different Chinese dishes and likely never stop your learning. I’m happy to keep making “new” dishes for our home to ensure that Kaia is exposed to an endless variety of foods.

Greenpoint – where all these cute little Japanese spots are popping up

About three years ago, a spot called Dashi Okume opened in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It was a place that aimed to be the only custom-made dashi place in New York City, if not the U.S. Okume is originally a dry goods wholesaler at the Tokyo Central Wholesale Market; it was founded in 1971, so it has a long history of creating “delicious food forever.” Okume has a restaurant component, as well as multiple Japanese-owned businesses in a large, warehouse-like shared space. Japanese toasters and electronics, ceramics, and skin/haircare are here. You can even buy fancy (and insanely sharp!) Japanese knives here. I’d been wanting to come here for a while, but I finally made it here yesterday after some time with Kaia at Space Club and lunch at Wen Wen.

As soon as we walked into Dashi Okume, I felt a bit intimidated. You see bins and bins of different dried fish and seafood, multiple varieties of kelp/kombu/seaweed, dried vegetables, and mushrooms. By weight, you have an assistant help you select which ones you want for your custom dashi, and once you are done, they take all the dried pieces into a combined basket and dump it all into this huge, industrial-sized grinder. It shreds everything into small pieces, then portions out your dried dashi into 15 or 30 different perfectly portioned bags. Each bag yields about 300ml of “first dashi” stock, which you can then reboil and make second or third dashi if you so wish for a slightly more diluted dashi.

I couldn’t really deal with this during my first visit; it seemed like too much to choose with not enough background on proportions for dashi creation. I am no Japanese food or dashi expert. So, instead, I went to sip tastes of their already-created dashi. They had about five different types. You can self serve samples, all piping hot. Who would not enjoy having free tastes of fancy, ready-made dashi?! Even if you didn’t care to cook, the taste testing here would be fun and delicious. Predictably, I ended up getting a pack of 15 bags of their premium dashi, which was very seafoody, umami, and potent.

New York City is a hard place to get bored in. It seems like every neighborhood has something fun like this to discover. I love finding and enjoying new things and places in my adopted home.

Mandoline sliced something other than zucchini today

Today was Father’s Day, and I thought it would be a good occasion to put together a cohesive meal. Most of the time when I am making food, I am thinking in singular dishes or about how many vegetables I need to prepare. Since Kaia was born, the only times I’ve really prepared a cohesive menu are when we’ve had guests over. But I really do want to change that because I prefer it when dishes are supposed to go together. So today, I made kimchi soondubu jigae (Korean kimchi soft tofu soup) with pork ribs, japchae (Korean glass noodles with vegetables), bindaetteok (Korean kimchi mung bean pancakes), rice, and three different types of banchan: soy bean sprout salad, marinated spinach, and zucchini.

For the zucchini banchan, I decided to whip out the mandoline Chris got me during the pandemic. Honestly, I haven’t used it too many times because I am a little terrified of it. I have a mandoline section on my box grater, but I’d only ever used it a few times and didn’t really trust it (it seemed too dull, which would beg for more pressure, which is dangerous!).

The few times I’ve used the mandoline setting, I was very deliberate with each slice. I watched each cut go through. I was always determined to never get cut by it… Until today, when I finally got cut by it. I was talking to Chris. Kaia was making a ruckus nearby, and I was very clearly distracted. I kept slicing the zucchini until it got way too close to my fingers, and SLICE! A huge section of the side of my right thumb got cut off. The blood was literally getting everywhere. I was dripping blood and leaving small puddles on the counter and floor. It took almost an hour and endless tissue, gauze, and paper towels to stop the bleeding, along with applying pressure and ice. I’d never cut myself this deeply before.

Luckily, I don’t think I cut any nerve or tendon, but it’s been pretty uncomfortable. The few times I’ve knocked myself in that spot, it hurts like hell. I’ve been doing my best to not use my right thumb, which is obviously hard. But it’s so painful when something even taps it. I have a feeling this will be the worst kitchen wound I have had to date. My friend, who also cooks often, was marveling that this was just my first mandoline cut (it’s a VERY common kitchen injury!). She even educated me on “finger condoms” (today, I learned…) and how I may want to get some to protect myself from similar injuries in the future.

Next time, when I am brave enough to take out the mandoline again, I will not talk to anyone or have my child near me. I will need to be 120 percent focused. Wounds like these are not fun at all, and even typing this feels odd because I am trying to avoid using a thumb to type…

Hot cross buns, take 2, results

It looks like I did two things right that I got wrong last time: I made sure that I used instant yeast as instructed, and I also scalded my milk to prevent any weird growth deactivation in my yeast. But I probably did not spend enough time folding over my hot cross bun balls enough. The balls were already a bit misformed when I rolled them into balls. So when they rose a lot and expanded, they just… got bigger as the same misshapen balls. The second thing I also got wrong once again was the hot cross piping. I think my flour/water paste was too thick this time; last time it was too thin, ran too much over the buns, and then completely disappeared. This time, the crosses are very clear, but a bit too thick. I also cut slightly too big of a hole in my piping bag (I just used a Ziplock bag), which made my crosses thicker than I would have liked. So appearance wise, they still are not completely what I would have liked, but they are far, far better than the crappy “hot cross scones” that I made a couple months ago. When they came out of the oven and we ate one each, we both declared that they looked, smelled, tasted, and felt just like hot cross buns. So even though they are not perfect, they are many steps closer to my ideal homemade hot cross buns.

I might not try this again so soon after having made them twice, but I do want to try my hand at them at least once more this year, just to get the hang of shaping and piping better. That’s #alwayslearning for me here!

Hot cross buns, take 2

Since I messed up the first iteration of hot cross buns I did around Easter time, I decided that I would follow up by trying to make them again this week. This time, I was ready with both my instant yeast and my pre-scalded milk. There’s no deterring me this time! The dough is currently right by my stove rising. I just checked and it’s already more than doubled in size, which is not what happened last time. A couple months ago when I did this, the dough probably only rose about 50 percent, which was already an indication to me that something was inhibiting the yeast from growing my dough to the full potential.

My friend asked me last week if I had tried making hot cross buns again given my mini disaster last time, and I told her I hadn’t yet. She gave me this look to basically keep me in check: “If I were you, I would have already done it to prove to that fucking dough that I could do it!” Good point. Time is of the essence, so fingers crossed that tomorrow morning, I’ll be able to make this work the right way this time!

Yibin Fresh-Chili Beef Noodles (Shengjiao Niurou Mian, 生椒牛肉面)

My understanding of regional Chinese cooking has grown exponentially since my college years, when I finally learned Mandarin Chinese, how to read and write (just enough) Chinese, and when I finally started exploring more of my own (well, half) culture in depth. The truth is that as most Chinese scholars will note, you can spend your entire life studying the various regional cuisines of China, and you will barely touch the surface of it. Even when you think you know everything there is to know, some town, some city, some person or family will shock you and show you something you never even knew existed. Reading about Chinese cuisine and the endless dishes and methods through the eyes of Fuchsia Dunlop also felt a bit life changing for me (I could read her writing about Chinese cuisine and culture until the end of time). As someone who identifies as half Cantonese, I still cannot believe all the things I am learning about Cantonese cuisine. For example, it wasn’t until about seven years ago when I learned that Chaozhou (or Teochew) cuisine is considered a branch of Cantonese cuisine, known for light, fresh flavors, and arguably being one of the first cultures of the world that started eating raw fish (as it has been made famous by the Japanese today).

When the Dipshit Administration announced a couple months ago that massive tariffs were going to hit a lot of our imported goods, I went into a slight panic and went onto Mala Market’s website to purchase a bunch of premium quality Sichuanese products. This included a family of regional Chinese black vinegars, various types of Sichuanese peppercorns, a premium aged Chinese soy sauce, and some alkaline (jian shui) dried noodles. The Mala Market website is amazing — it is so informative and well researched. They not only give you a thorough background on the products they sell and how they were produced, but they also share the history of the overall products (e.g. how was soy sauce first made? What’s the history behind black rice vinegar? How did different versions come about?), and also have a pretty legitimate recipes section that cheekily notes, ‘Proceed at your own risk’). Through their website, I started learning about other regional, city-specific dishes in Sichuan and decided to start trying the recipes out.

Today, I made Yibin fresh chili beef noodles from their site. Yibin is a prefecture-level city in the southeastern part of Sichuan province, about 260 kilometers away from Chengdu. It is known for being a historical source for salt, as well as having a large pepper mill. They also produce bai jiu, or a distilled hard liquor. The noodle dish has four main components: the wheat noodles (in this case, noodles that due to being produced in an alkaline lye water, are naturally colored yellow), the noodle sauce, the saucy minced beef topping, and the fresh accompaniments (freshly chopped cilantro and red peppers). Like many very delicious Sichuanese dishes, this really needs to be assembled to order and eaten immediately. So I got all the components ready and then tossed them in individual portions in a large bowl and served them for dinner. And it was so, so good. The hot and numbing feeling of the just ground Sichuanese peppercorns was super tingly and spicy. The noodles had a perfect al dente chewy texture. And the entire dish just brought me back to our Chengdu trip, where we ate extremely, extremely well. I love and miss the mian guans (noodle houses) that we visited and where we ate copious amounts of delicious food.

I might not be able to go back to Sichuan that quickly or easily, but I have all my Mala Market ingredients to take me there via my noodle bowl at home when I please now. I’m so happy I finally made a big purchase from them this year! Every penny was beyond worth it, even if the prices aren’t cheap. You get what you pay for!

Pit stop at a Phil-Am Market to the Staten Island Ferry serves as inspiration for bread making

After my friend’s baby shower yesterday, I helped with some relatives and another friend to load and off-load gifts and baby items back at their house. Since her friend had a car and was driving back to Brooklyn, she offered to take me to the ferry terminal so that my friend’s boyfriend didn’t have to drive me. The caveat, she said, was that she hoped it would be okay to first stop at a Filipino market on the island before dropping me off at the ferry terminal.

My friend looked directly at me and smiled since she knew what my reaction would be. “Ummm, YES; I would love that pit stop first! I’m coming in with you!” I exclaimed.

My friend’s friend went in to pick up Filipino groceries as well as takeout (they have a prepared foods section) to bring home to her family. I picked up the pancit, which she also got and recommended, a tray of kare kare (this delicious Filipino oxtail / beef peanut stew), and a bowl of ube halo halo. And while I was perusing the packaged goods aisle, I was beyond ecstatic to find dehydrated ube powder; this was the ingredient I wanted to use to make ube pandesal, but I hadn’t been able to source it at an Asian market until now! This was likely the one item I got from this place that made this trip to the market a thousand percent worth it.

As soon as I got home, I started looking up recipes for ube pandesal. A year and a half ago, I made classic Filipino pandesal bread buns and really enjoyed how simple they were to make, as well as how comforting the flavor was. My next step in my mind was to make the ube version. There are ube pandesal recipes that call for frozen mashed ube, but it seemed like based on the recipes I found that dehydrated ube powder was the most common and preferred way. I also love this packet of dehydrated ube powder I got because there are zero additives in it: it’s 100 percent ube powder with nothing else – no stabilizers, no artificial coloring, no weird thickeners, nada! I had a strong urge when I boarded the ferry back to Manhattan to make bread this weekend.

I decided I’d do the bread recipe that was on the top of my to-make list ahead of my ube pandesal urge, though, which was King Arthur’s big, bubbly focaccia. I started the dough this afternoon, did some pulls and dough turns to develop gluten, and then will let it bubble, grow, and ferment overnight for additional flavor before baking it tomorrow.

This visit to the Phil-Am Market really got me excited to want to make bread again – this was an unintended, unexpected effect of visiting a Filipino grocery store on Staten Island. And now, I have both dry active yeast and instant yeast, so I don’t have to do any conversions for yeast types or worry about whether something will fail based on the yeast type I’ve chosen!