Chè Thái (Vietnamese fruit cocktail)

I grew up eating many variations of chè, or traditional Vietnamese sweet soups and puddings. As a child, I enjoyed them just as much as I enjoyed western desserts like cake or ice cream. Plus, I didn’t have as easy access to these Vietnamese desserts unless we stumbled upon a Vietnamese bakery or were in San Jose or Orange County. My mom never really made very much Vietnamese food given the dishes can be very laborious, and there was no way she’d ever go to the great lengths it takes to put together a Vietnamese dessert like these.

I never realized when I was younger how much healthier most of these Asian desserts were because they actually had good-for-you ingredients like real fruit and even beans — yes, beans! The one my mom got for me most often in my early years was che dau xanh, or mung bean pudding. It’s a pudding-like che that has mung beans cooked down until soft with some sugar, and sometimes flavored with pandan. Then it’s topped with a very luscious, whipped coconut cream. Another one I enjoyed occasionally was che ba mau, also known as “three colored dessert.” This one has layers of pandan jellies, mashed sweetened mung bean, red beans (sometimes even kidney beans), and a thick layer of sweetened coconut cream.

One version of che that I’ve been thinking about a lot since we were in the Philippines (halo halo!) was che thai, which is translated to mean “Vietnamese fruit cocktail.” I suppose that is accurate given it’s a few different types of fruits and jellies served in a sweetened “soup” that uses coconut milk or cream as its base. So I decided that once the weather got warmer and we had company over that I’d make it. Chris’s parents have arrived for their annual visit, so this will be their first dessert at home with us. It’s pretty straightforward and easy given most of the ingredients are from cans: canned longan, lychee, jackfruit, toddy palm seeds, young coconut flesh, and even aiyu jelly can be used. If you don’t want to use aiyu jelly from a can, you can either make your own, or make a pandan jelly. I made and cubed pandan jelly this morning using agar agar (seaweed) powder – it took less than ten minutes! I also sliced up some jackfruit and toddy palm seeds, and then I peeled and cut some fresh mango. I added some canned longans. And as the last step, I mixed the “soup” base, which was about a cup of coconut milk, some coconut water, and added some jackfruit syrup/juice from the can until the sweetness was just right. I mixed everything in a big bowl and put it in the fridge to cool.

The che thai was a success: everyone enjoyed it! Chris’s mom even had seconds. And Kaia finished the little bowl I prepared her; she was especially fascinated by the pandan jellies. If it were in season, I would have liked to include pomegranate seeds to give the che thai a red color to make the soup “pop” more, but I guess I can save that for another time. Some recipes, to add a “red” fruit, will take canned Chinese water chestnuts, coat them in tapioca starch and red food coloring, and then boil them to infuse the red color into the water chestnuts. But I am trying to avoid artificial colors and flavors as much as I can, so I nixed this. And I don’t think anyone would have thought that could enhance tonight’s dessert. Sometimes, it really is the simplest desserts that are quite delicious.

Making strawberry matcha latte at home

The last time I was at a matcha cafe, I was very tempted to get their strawberry matcha latte. But then I balked at the price — $9. I thought to myself, I know I can easily make this for so much less at home, and I would enjoy doing it. So I ordered a cheaper matcha latte that day and made a mental note to myself that I had to buy strawberries when on sale next and commit to making the strawberry sauce base.

So I got two pounds of very ripe strawberries from a street vendor in Astoria last weekend, and this time I knew I was finally going to make this happen! I washed and cut up the strawberries, tossed them into a little saucepan with a little bit of sugar. Then I boiled and simmered it for about 10 minutes. I pureed the sauce and stored it in a jar in the fridge. The “hard” work was done here.

Today, I finally put it all together: I added about a quarter of a cup of the strawberry sauce to two tall glasses (for both Chris and me), then poured in about half a cup of milk to each. I took some of my Costco everyday matcha powder and whisked it with some hot water. I added this to the glasses along with some ice and stirred a bit. Then I took a sip.

This was definitely tasty, and likely more satisfying knowing that I made this all by myself… And knowing that each of these glasses did not cost $9! I am more than happy to pay for lattes or tea/coffee drinks out when I know I cannot be bothered making the equivalent at home. But for me, a strawberry matcha latte is very low effort, high reward. And as long as I have matcha at home and affordable access to sweet strawberries, then I’m all in on making these and enjoying at home.

The high protein life

One of my friends who has an insulin resistance recently gifted me three boxes of bean-based dry pasta: they are chickpea, edamame (soybean!), and black bean based. She told me that given her health condition, she actually doesn’t have any regular (wheat) pasta at home, so this is all she has when she says she eats pasta at home. I tried the edamame spaghetti and used it for this oven roasted tomato sauce I’d made about a month ago and defrosted. Chris tried the pasta before I did, so I asked him what he thought.

“The sauce is very good,” Chris said to me.

“Okay,” I started, “But what about the pasta?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “The sauce is very good.”

Okay, so he hated the pasta. Then he eventually elaborated, saying that the edamame pasta was clearly not going to fool anyone who knew what “the real thing” tasted like. He said it felt like he was “eating for the sake of eating.”

Then, I tried the pasta with my homemade sauce, and I understood what he meant. It just didn’t have that nice mouthfeel and texture that durum wheat-based pasta has. Plus the texture was very questionable. I cooked it al dente according to the box cooking time, and this pasta… just felt like a lighter form of leather.

But I’m still going to keep going with this, and I will most definitely use and cook the two remaining bean based pastas. Today, I tried the tofu bread rolls I made from Hetty Lui McKinnon’s Linger cookbook. These tofu bread rolls are made with zero dairy or eggs: the majority of the dough is just silken tofu and bread flour for high gluten development (i.e. extra, extra fluffiness and lift). And while the texture and fluffiness were very good, I think it may have needed some extra sugar to be more of a standard dinner roll-type bread. I couldn’t imagine eating this bread plain on its own; it definitely either needed a high quality, salted butter, or a fruity jam.

So, this is the high protein life I am exploring. It’s an interesting one, and I am definitely learning a lot about how the foods we know can evolve!

Bibimbap with a gochuchang-based sauce that doesn’t have corn syrup

I have been working to slowly but surely use all the meat in our freezer up before our next Costco run that is coming up soon. I defrosted some ground beef and decided that I’d make bibimbap this week, especially since as I was going through my pantry, I realized I had purchased a Trader Joe’s brand gochuchang sauce. And I really wanted to finally open and use it. The reason I got this gochuchang was that this is the very first gochuchang I’ve ever purchased that did not have either corn syrup or high fructose corn syrup in it. When I used to go down the entire aisle at HMart or other Korean markets, a gochuchang paste that had neither of these corn-based ingredients was simply nonexistent. And I really wanted to use gochuchang, so I felt like I had no choice but to settle on one of these versions, so I’d just pick the one that got the highest ratings. Corn syrup is pretty prevalent in Korean-made products since it’s cheap and gives the gochuchang an attractive, shiny glaze. It also acts as a stabilizer in sauces and processed foods. The Koreans were likely heavily influenced by Americans in using this cheap ingredient, and so it became a thing.

So now when you see modern, new-age independent Korean food companies rolling out new products, you can see immediately that they reject corn syrup/HFCS and proudly state on their label, product, banner, or website that they use real sugar and no corn syrup-type ingredients. You also see these items marked up quite a bit since obviously, real cane sugar is much more expensive than its crappy corn-based substitutes.

Anyway, so I used the gochuang paste in my bibimbap sauce tonight. I mixed it with some sesame oil, sugar, water, roasted sesame seeds, apple cider vinegar, and garlic. Once you combine these simple ingredients together, you get the magic of a gochuchang-based bibimbap sauce. Bibimbap, aka “mixed rice,” is always satisfying because of all the different flavors and textures of the various vegetables and protein, all pulled together with the sweet-savory bibimbap sauce.

I asked Chris what he thought of the bibimbap, and he said it was good, but noted that he thought he might have liked the previous gochuchang-based sauce I made more.

“That’s the one with the corn syrup!” I said. “This is the first bibimbap sauce with a gochuchang that has no HFCS or corn syrup!”

I guess the moral of the story is: Chris likes corn syrup. 🙂

Candied nuts – the simplest addition to salads that can make it pop!

As someone who has always loved tinkering in the kitchen with different ingredients and recipes, I have always enjoyed candies nuts in salads when I’ve had them. But for some reason, I never thought to make them myself. I know they are pretty simple and straightforward to make: you take a bunch of nuts, coat them in maple syrup or simple syrup, sprinkle a little sea salt on top, and toss them. Then, you bake them at a low-ish temperature in the oven for about 25-30 minutes until they are crystallized. When you are done, you get this magical savory-sweet, high protein, high fiber snack that will quickly impress people when they find out you actually made them yourself. It’s low effort, but high “wow” factor.

Well, I finally got inspired and pushed to make them for a beet and lentil salad with tahini-yogurt dressing recipe from Hetty Lui McKinnon’s Linger cookbook. Honestly, this is not normally a cookbook I would have bought for myself; it’s all about salads, and the entire book is vegetarian. But after being gifted it and going through it, I’ve realized I am quite inspired by Hetty’s take on what a “salad” is, and I love the way she pairs ingredients together. It’s definitely made me rethink food pairings and what flavors complement each other.

So for this salad, (pre cooked) beets and shallots are pickled in a sweet vinegar mixture with spices. Then, you add cooked lentils, toss them both together in olive oil and salt/pepper. And finally, you smother a tahini-yogurt sauce on them, topping them with candied walnuts. And yes, the candied walnuts truly MAKE this salad pop. It’s one of those salads that are very memorable not just because it’s gorgeous to look at with the color contrasts, but because the flavors all meld together really beautifully.

And that, my friends, is a beautiful, delicious salad worth making and eating again and again.

Rediscovering the glory of cooking with fresh lemongrass — all because of a very sharp knife

At most, I cook with fresh lemongrass two to three times a year. You can’t buy it at a regular grocery store; if I need it, I pick it up from Hong Kong Supermarket or my Vietnamese market in Chinatown. There’s really no substitute for fresh lemongrass: it is bright, fresh, almost sweet, with very floral, minty, almost gingery and herbaceous notes. When you eat something with lemongrass, it stares at you in the face; subtlety is not a characteristic of this herb. Although I love this herb, I’ve historically found it really annoying to deal with. The edible part of the stalk is very hard, which means it can be difficult to cut, even with a sharp knife. If you look at guides for how to cut lemongrass, some of them even say that you should consider resharpening your knife after cutting lemongrass because the damn stalk can dull your blade!

But alas, with my fancy Shun knife that was gifted for my birthday, I have a super, duper sharp knife now. So when I picked up two lemongrass stalks to make some grilled Vietnamese lemongrass beef patties, I wondered how much easier it would be to cut these with this new knife. And lo and behold, this crazy sharp knife made a massive difference: not only did the knife slide through the tough stalk quicker and smoother, but every cut felt so easy! Who would have thought that the knife would truly make all the difference when it came to cutting this delicious herb?

So I finely minced the lemongrass and threw in some other aromatics, fish sauce, oyster sauce, black pepper, and some sugar. I added the minced beef, mixed it up, created meatballs, then flattened them for quicker cooking on the pan. And once I was done cooking, I took a bite of one of the meatballs: Yum. The lemongrass flavor was just singing! Few things beat this flavor for me. My new mental note to self is that I will definitely be cooking with lemongrass more often now that I have this knife, which has greatly improved my handling of literally tough ingredients like this herb. It really is true: oftentimes, your equipment makes all the difference when cooking!

The elusive chai I keep chasing in NYC

Ever since I had my very first sip of chai as a high schooler, I was in love. There are many delicious hot drinks you can have, but I think chai — the Indian spiced milky tea, not just tea, is one of the most comforting ones. There was a period several years ago when I splurged a bit and would buy The Chai Box chai (their Punjaban Party blend is my all-time favorite!), but that ended up becoming very expensive. So, I decided to start trying to blend my own. It’s actually worked out pretty well: I’ve gotten to the point where I add just enough ginger, cardamom, fennel, and clove to my tea (mostly CTC, with a little Ceylon BOPF) and have been able to replicate the exact flavor I want. The chai is always double boiled; it’s not chai to me unless it’s double boiled. And I add about half a teaspoon of sugar per cup of liquid to help even out any bitterness that comes from the tea being so vigorously boiled.

Unfortunately for me, I have yet to identify a single place in New York City that makes chai the way I want it. I’ve found places in Melbourne that do it with the flavor I want, but not here. Kolkata Chai, which has expanded quite a bit, is good, but the flavor is still not the way I want it. The flavor I am chasing is like the one we had all over India, which definitely leans toward Punjabi style chai, like The Chai Box’s Punjaban Party blend. The biggest problem is that the chai made at shops all over here are just too strong on the cinnamon. Cinnamon is fine in chai, but I find it very overpowering to the point where I pretty much never add it to my own at home. I want a dominant ginger and cardamom flavor, first and foremost, with fennel and clove humming in the background. That’s my perfect cup of chai.

While I was at my friend’s house yesterday, she made all of us chai. She said it was mostly ginger, with a “hint” of cardamom. And it was absolutely delicious. I would personally prefer more cardamom, but I was just extremely thrilled and touched that anyone would take the time to double boil chai for me. In that moment of sipping it with the strong flavor of freshly grated ginger, it suddenly dawned on me that this was the very first time anyone has taken the time to double boil chai for me — ever . And I just felt so much gratitude in that moment.

Today, I took Kaia out on a play date to the Brooklyn Children’s Museum with our neighbor friend and her son. We had lunch together at an Indian-ish cafe nearby that I had been wanting to try. Even though I had that delicious homemade ginger chai yesterday, I still wanted more chai today (well, I want it every day, but that’s not realistic). So I ordered the signature masala chai at the cafe. It came out… and once again, it was too cinnamony. It was not as cinnamony as the last place I went to for chai in the Lower East Side, but it was just too much cinnamon. And then someone topped it with even more ground cinnamon just before it was handed to me! Can these places please stop doing this…?

I will keep trying and searching because I refuse to give up hope that my perfect cup exists out there in some shop in New York City. But in the meantime, I will also continue making my own perfect cup of chai at home about once a week. I deserve that little time for myself to indulge.

Khmeli suneli

One benefit of being on the east side for my mammogram appointment earlier this week was that I had an excuse to go to Kalustyan’s, a popular spice shop on Lexington in the east 20s. I took the 6 train down to 28th Street, along the route I was already planning to take to pick up Kaia from school later that afternoon. While there, I forgot how overwhelming all the different global spices can be. It’s two floors of spices, sauces, and treats from around the world! My goal was to pick up khmeli suneli, the Georgian spice blend I learned about during my Georgian cooking class last month. The earthy and fragrant flavor would absolutely be needed if I wanted to make any Georgian dishes in the near future. The spices that are included are usually blue fenugreek (not the same as Indian fenugreek!), coriander, marigold, savory, dill, amongst others. The blend I picked up, the only version Kalustyan’s had for khmeli suneli, had about 12 different spices in it. Since I was already there, I did some more browsing and also got a little packet of salted kombu, which I was inspired to get from a recent Japanese restaurant we ate at.

My first use for khmeli suneli would be Georgian eggplant rolls with walnut paste, or nigvziani badrijani. The walnut paste is made with toasted, ground walnuts, khmeli suneli, lots of garlic, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Then, you take long, wide strips of roasted eggplant, add the walnut paste in, and then roll them up. They’re usually topped with pomegranate, as well, for a finishing touch. The interesting thing about this paste is that there’s no oil in it; it all comes together by combining hot water. The hot water makes all the ingredients come together, and it also does an added (or included) step of “cooking” the spices. I guess that’s the water way of “blooming” spices the way you do with Indian spices and oil. I love this technique! It’s so interesting how different cultures came up with their techniques for cooking and coaxing out as much flavor as possible from the ingredients they have. It comes together really quickly, and the only other thing you have to do is slice and roast the eggplants!

I’ve got 60 grams of khmeli suneli to use, so I definitely will be finding more ways to use it in the near future!

Flattery with food

Everyone loves it when people take their suggestions. It’s an unspoken compliment or flattery, to do or take up something that someone has suggested. In the past, I’ve always gotten annoyed when i’ve spent time putting together travel lists for people who ask for my suggestions about a given city or country, and then they barely look at my list and say they did other things. Now, I don’t do a single thing custom for anyone because of that since that takes time, which is a valuable commodity. If they want to see my travel suggestions, I will just give them my OneNote dump for the location, and they can sift through it themselves.

But in the last 10-15 years, I’ve had people take my suggestions on endless things, whether it’s restaurants, cities/countries to visit, or specific lesser known places or dishes to eat. I always get excited about this every single time, and I love hearing about their thoughts after they’ve experienced said thing. But now, it seems like I’ve been influencing friends to cook things, and that makes me super thrilled.

In the last year, I’ve had friends and colleagues make toddler baked goods I’ve made for Kaia. They’ve made chilis and soups I’ve made. One friend made the almond cookies I made for my last two Lunar New Year parties. Just last week, I was raving to a friend about a high protein peanut noodle (there’s a whole block of silken tofu in it!) dish I made, and then the next day, she went ahead and made it, agreeing that it was delicious. This same friend is saving the black sesame swirled pumpkin nian gao recipe for a future family gathering. And she was asking me for tips on how to best steam fish, and what my steaming setup was like. She said she usually roasts or bakes, but because of my steamed fish dish from the Lunar New Year party, she wants to start incorporating more steamed fish into her diet.

This was like music to my ears. I told her about my steamer setup and how I steam different things. She told me that she actually broke her little metal steamer rack, so I offered to go to Chinatown and pick one up for her (after all, I am there five days a week to pick up Kaia). I think with food, the best compliment is not necessarily the compliment of the food itself, but it’s when people liked your dish so much that they not only asked for the recipe/how to make it, but also went ahead and made plans to make it, and made it. That is the kind of flattery I love.

Year of the Fire Horse Lunar New Year Party

Today, we had a Lunar New Year party of 17 friends who came to feast on 12 different dishes that I made! It was our largest group hosted yet. We had 16 people, but then a friend of Chris decided last minute he could come. Chris asked if I had enough food. I had a mini panic in my head last night, but I figured that I could always supplement with additional dumplings I had cooked and frozen that were originally meant for future use.

Well, there was way more than enough food; I was actually shocked by the amount of food we had left over, which just means that we’ll have more to eat (and less need for me to cook!) for this week. This year, in true form, I “upleveled” and tried out some new recipes, did my usual trusted staples, and also added more Vietnamese dishes (which were quite labor-intensive!) to the line-up. After prepping for two weeks and deciding on this menu about a month ago, this is what I made:

Starters:

Banh it tran – Vietnamese (Hue) sticky rice dumplings filled with mashed mung bean and minced pork, topped with scallion oil, fried shallots, and served with nuoc cham

Banh bot loc – Vietnamese (Hue) banana leaf steamed tapioca dumplings stuffed with shrimp , served with nuoc cham

[Do chua – pickled carrot and daikon (for both dumplings above, plus thit kho as a palate cleanser/much needed acidic hit)]

Luo bo gao – Chinese pan fried radish cake with Chinese sausage, shiitake mushrooms, and shredded scallops

Mains:

Thit kho – Vietnamese coconut water braised pork ribs with eggs

Nuo mi fan – Chinese sticky rice with Chinese sausage, cha siu, shredded scallops, shiitake mushrooms

Dan Dan noodles

Steamed wild black sea bass with ginger and scallion

Blanched yu choy greens with black vinegar sauce and crispy garlic

Buddha’s Delight / Luo han zhai: Stir fried (12!) vegetables with mung bean noodles

Desserts:

Black sesame swirled pumpkin nian gao

Chinese almond cookies

Black sesame tang yuan

Food is one of my love languages. I love feeding people I love. I love it when people discover new foods and enjoy them, and I love when they discover new foods they enjoy because of me. And I love it when people love the food I make them. One friend discovered she loved lotus root and the different tofu products in my zhai dish; she also loved the do chua/pickled carrot and daikon for my Vietnamese dishes. Another friend was obsessed over the savory-sweet flavor that the coconut water gave my thit kho/pork ribs. A friend who came for the first time said she couldn’t get enough of my steamed fish and how flavorful it was. A friend also was excited to have my black sesame tang yuan again — this is someone who is self-professed about being anti-dessert, but loves these sticky rice balls of “not too sweet” black sesame filling.

It’s definitely a lot of thought and work to put into this party, but I love every bit of it. I love the lead up, the food prep, the last minute bits that have to be cooked, the chaos that ensues with the kids coming in. And I always end the evening, after lots of cleaning and washing, with a happy and warm heart.