Happy Summer!

Hello again readers! Sorry again about the radio silence - there's a reason this blog is called Heavy Tines you know... I've been a busy gal, both eating and enjoying the summer. There hasn't been much time spent in my kitchen lately, but that doesn't mean there's been a shortage of food! Here's a recap of our Fourth of July festivities:

Fourth of July weekend!

S. and I took a trip with a couple of friends to Tahoe! As they say, you go to Tahoe for the winter, but you stay for the summer. I don't really remember who They are, but it's true. With warm days, cool nights, a lookout over the lake for fireworks and a cozy cabin deck for bbq, our Independence Day weekend was perfect. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite get pictures of food before it was mostly ingested; sorry, I was hungry. Those of you who know me hungry know that I put black holes to shame.

Potato Salad

Of course we had to have potato salad at our barbecue! It's all american. But with the parsley, dill, and dijon, it was slightly fancier than your run of the mill costco potato salad, and all fresh too! Yum. me.

Corn on the Cob was courtesy of our grill master for the night, C., who was also responsible for the bbq tri-tip (not pictured because we ate most of it before I whipped out the camera. Also, I had sticky rib fingers (see below).

Baby Back Ribs

Those aren't my fingers, they're S.'s fingers. You'll also notice there's not much meat left on those ribs, I think he was hungry too. If anyone's interested, I have a post-bbq picture of S. slumped over in his chair with his eyes glazed over and looking pretty satisfied with himself. Come to think of it, that's post-any meal.

Feeding Frenzy

Mango Sticky Rice

It's been awhile, friends. And this in no way means that S. and I haven't been cooking...it means that it's been so hot around here that turning on the oven becomes something we really have to think hard about because the kitchen will quickly turn into a kiln. But, to make up for my absence, I have posted quite a few new delectables that are (for the most part) oven-free!

See above: Mango Sticky Rice! On Sunday mornings in Berkeley, there's an "establishment" called Thai Temple Brunch that S. and I like to frequent for amazing Thai food and outdoor seating. I call it an "establishment" because of it's suspicious lack of restaurant permits and because it's technically a temple that's only allowed to accept donations. However, if you do not "donate" in exchange for food, well...you don't get fed. I've considered bartering before, but I doubt the "volunteers" would be as grateful for my hugs as for my money. Anyway.

Every time we go, I ask S. if we can get the mango sticky rice. He says No. Then he says Yes. In the same breath. This is because despite the fact that he is both carb and money conscious (neither of which I am), he is always swayed by the thought of those subtly tart, firm mangoes on a side of sticky rice soaked in sweet coconut milk. Sick of waiting for those lucky Sunday mornings, I decided to make some myself and topped mine with some toasted black sesame. That's right, they're not fruit flies that got stuck in my rice.

Next up! Some hearty split pea soup with ham. I don't know why I'm in a yucky mood today, and I don't want to ruin this for you, but on first glance this may look like movie vomit. But it's not, I swear! Observe closely, that's a piece of carrot, and there's some ham in there! I topped it with some homemade potato chips fried in duck fat.

Split Pea Soup with Ham

Mmm, dinner. Last night, S. and I got all fancypants in the kitchen and cooked up some filet mignon. It's very simply done in the pan, and we ate it with a side of green beans almondine, and a bleu cheese sauce. Notice the perfect medium rare on that meat! I did that. :)

Filet Mignon with Bleu Cheese Dressing and Green Beans Almondine

And finally, an extra dose of sweetness, blueberry cobbler. I made the mistake of making this in the morning and then leaving it on the counter with a spoon in it so that every time I walked by I sampled it. You know, to make sure the flavors were uh...settling. By the time we went to bed, it was 4/5 gone. The last 1/5 will be gone by the time I finish this post. Which is now.

Blueberry Cobbler

Best Leftovers I Ever Had

Pork Roast and Swiss Chard

It goes without saying that they weren't leftovers the day we made it, but I'm glad we made more than we could eat. I kind of wish that S. and I weren't so hungry and had some more patience, otherwise I would have had a picture of the whole roast. As it was, it was hard enough to take this picture because I was ready to DEVOUR. It's the tragedy of making delicious meals that take a long time on the stove or in the oven; the aromas that come from the kitchen really get my digestive juices going...one of these days I'm going to have an ulcer and S. will have to pamper me and make me everything I wanna eat. Maybe that's not so bad. Especially after he surprised me with how great his chard was; we followed Thomas Keller's recipe for the veg, which included golden raisins and pine nuts. The pork was juicy, peppery, and tender enough so that even after I microwaved it a couple days later it was still delectable. Next time I'm going to have to plan ahead and make a lot more for leftovers.

For some sweet leftovers for the week, I made a bunch of drop mini blueberry muffins; baked with cream rather than milk or water, the muffins were very distinctly ...creamy. Duh. I'm on a muffin kick now, be on the watch for more tiny muffitos!

Tiny Blueberry Muffins!

Lamb Tajine with mint, zucchini, tomatoes and peppers

I haven't heard of tajines before, so to explain, a tajine is a Moroccan stew traditionally cooked in an earthenware pot. I don't have an earthenware pot, so this may not be a true tajine, but maybe one day it'll grow up and get promoted. What struck me first about this recipe was how many spices are involved! Being an aficionado of curries and all those mouth-watering spices that come in middle eastern and Indian food, I was excited to be measuring out the coriander and cumin for this dish. Except I didn't measure them out, I just dumped a bunch into the pot. Yummm... I'm a greedy spice-monger.

Tarte Tatin

And what better way to celebrate Memorial Day, but with apple pie! But...not really apple pie because it's French and it's a tart. I have to admit, S. and I had to ditch the first batch of caramelized apples because they burned. No one's perfect.. however, the finished product was delicious. S. sweated bullets watching me pour sugar into the pan for the caramel, but he all but forgot when he gobbled it down with ice cream:

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Sigh. It's summertime everyone! Even though earlier this morning it drizzled just enough to make me regret wearing new sandals but not enough to justify my umbrella use. Being a student is signing yourself up for a roller coast of stress, living the extremes!! 9 months of the year is devoted to mind numbing frustration, 2 sets of mental breakdowns during finals weeks (3 if you're on the quarter system), sleep deprivation, seasonal affect disorder, and coffee intoxication. Then there are 3 glorious months when the sun shines, sleeping too much becomes a problem, everything blooms, and life is worth living again!!! Let's not talk about September and school starting.

Even though I'm not completely off the hook this summer and am still working full time, something about just the thought of summer is magical. It makes me want to eat. Screw swimsuit season, this is stuff-your-face-season. I think this is mostly because the nice weather makes eating a portable activity. Picnics! Snacks on sticks! Street fairs!

S. and I make a strawberry rhubarb pie to share for a friendly poker get together. What he doesn't know is I slipped something into the pie to befuddle his friends and win all their money. Muahaha. Not really.

And what's better for a summertime dinner than something light like seared ahi tuna? Here is dinner from a bit ago; I seared the tuna with sesame seeds and served it with greens, sprouts, avocado, and a sweet soy ginger dressing:

Sesame Seared Ahi Tuna Salad

To bean, or not to bean?

Chili con carne:

It's been a busy few weeks, and with studying for (and finishing!) finals, I might briefly have slipped into the black hole that is eating takeout. But! knowing that this was a possibility, I wisely made some things to post, post operation-get-good-grades-and-work-on-a-career. It seems that this semester after the initial release of my last test and putting away weeks of notes and flashcards, there wasn't that expected zombie phase where I get to catch up with some much needed television; instead, I was making up lost time at work and arranging my quick trip to LA to visit family.

Anyway, *gesture above* here's my chili con carne! A friend and I had a discussion later whether a "real" chili has beans or not, resulting in an obligatory googling and hundreds of posts from people who also felt that this issue was more controversial than, I don't know, whether or not we landed on the moon (we did). People are passionate about their chili. This particular chili con carne is bean-less, but to give it some added textural depth, and also because of a certain diva butcher, it's made with chunks of beef chuck and ground beef.

And for dessert? Marcel Proust's Rememberall, the madeleine. I have a mold made in france that I proudly bought at an antique store for 2 bucks, and it makes beautiful orange and lemon zest madeleines that I later gave away (S. was disappointed). Interestingly, these particular madeleine's are accidentally whole grain...those who know me well know I'm awful with reading details in emails and on packages; luckily, this time the flub resulted in something that's not totally catastrophic, and possibly even good for me (disclaimer!! remember everyone, whole grain does not equal whole wheat. It's different).

Young at heart

Iced coffee with vanilla ice cream... much needed mojo for some serious studying

This is how we roll

For some reason, even though no one I've met who has actually eaten cake rolls has disliked them, these moist-and-creamy-sponge-cake-cylinders-of-subtly-sweet-deliciousness are highly underrated. I think most people know what they are (I hope! if you don't, go get one now!) but if you're looking for one at your grocery store, chances are you won't find it. I don't think I've even seen it before at our beloved Berkeley Bowl (which I learned recently sells elk sausage. S. was excited.). Up till the day I made one myself, I've only bought them at Asian bakeries even though nothing about them is Asian. I'm not totally sure where the origin is. They sometimes go by the name Swiss cake rolls, so perhaps they're Swiss? Who knows, maybe cake rolls are to the Swiss as fortune cookies are to the Chinese, at the end of the day who the hell cares, just eat the damn thing.

They are surprisingly versatile, with flavors like matcha green tea with azuki bean filling (ok that one's Asian, but that's an adaptation), chocolate with strawberry cream filling, whatever you crave with your tea or coffee. The sponge cake is light enough for a mid afternoon snack, but the cream is what makes it perfect for after dinner dessert. Or before dinner dessert.

My mocha cream marble cake roll:

And because the summer bug is getting to me (finals are almost over!), I wanted something light and refreshing for dinner, so I put together some store bought seaweed salad, made some miso soup and rolled up some sushi! Now, I am no sushi chef. In fact, the fish I hacked so elegantly to fill and top this sushi would make any sushi chef from the discount 99 cent sushi stand in the back of a convenience store weep. But the colors were pretty and I liked the idea that we ate a day of rolls so here it is:

No Knife Needed

The last couple of hours in a stew or a roast or whatever it is always seems to follow a trend. The meat is chewy, sinewy, gets stuck in your teeth, so you put the lid back on and figure you'll come back and check again later. This is the longest, most drawn out time in the stewing process, because the meat's cooked, it's edible, and goddammitI'mhungry. It doesn't matter how many times you check that beef, each trial taste is an advertisement for floss and a masochistic exercise in patience. Until suddenly! It's like that hunk of cow decided to jump off a cliff and beat itself silly on the way down so it could melt in your mouth one day. Every little cow's dream.

For this particular stew, which is technically a pot roast plus beef shank, the meat was marinated in a red wine sauce (preferably overnight, but for lack of proper planning, it was just from morning till the time I got off my butt to cook this shoulder). The shank is what makes the sauce really comes together - the collagen melts off the meat and bone and makes the sauce thick and rich. And to top it all off, there's this little stub of bone with what Anthony Bourdain has appropriately termed, God's Butter. Oh yeah. That's marrow in there. Well, not in this picture, because I sucked that out well before the stew was done. Shank isn't the best source of bone marrow; if that's what you're looking for, better go for marrow bone (duh) and roast it, but what you can dig out of that little stub in a shank is a nice little cherry on top.

Sweet and Cheesy

The next few weeks will be busy, friends. It's that time of year around college towns like this when coffee sales skyrocket and sweats become an acceptable and practical fashion statement, mostly because of the coffee-bloating. It's finals time.

Finals time for some means putting aside basic survival necessities and ignoring all acceptable societal conduct such as sleeping and showering. For me, it's when I indulge maximally in all things that could distract me before I can focus on school. Sleep till I'm rested! Get all that television watching out of the way! Eat whatever I want!!

Hence the New York Cheesecake with Strawberry Coulis:

Apparently there are quite a few ways to bake a cheesecake. The New York method yields a dense, thick, and creamy cheesecake with a heavy cream cheese cake.  This particular cheesecake comes with a shortbread crust. After this picture was taken, S. and I devoured it with whipped cream. I have a slice left I plan to eat with my obligatory finals coffee.

Knead to Eat

I can't help myself: puns are my Kryptonite.

Occasionally I poke fun at my highly conflicted foodie boyfriend, who besides food, also loves to experiment with fringe diets that seem to be made for the sole purpose of giving me a reason to roll my eyes. One can only imagine the inner struggle he goes through every time I suggest a cut of meat that is not free-range, bake when he is sugar-free, or make fresh pasta while he is gluten-free.

This was one of those weekends. S. was on a gluten-free kick, which stopped the moment he started pinching at the dough I was kneading for honey wheat bread. He didn't even wait until it was cooked...

Awhile ago, we went to a restaurant that served Italian-Iranian fusion food, and I had their creamy and tender Parchment Fish. Determined to replicate it at home, I bought some Tilapia at our grocer (assured to be radiation free! farmed in Ecuador), and made a cream sauce with what I thought belonged in my own Tilapia en Papillote: mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, asparagus. Potatoes in cream on the side, and just a bit of grilled zucchini and banana squash for a fresh side dish. Since I had gluten-broken S. earlier in the day with bread, I brazenly sprinkled some flour into my cream sauce to thicken it around the fish as it baked in it's parchment cocoon. Unfortunately, I don't think you can see the fish under all the goodies in this picture, but trust me, it was good.

The Elusive Donald Duck

There's only one place around here that sells fresh duck, and it happens to be in a posh area with no parking and completely out of the way of our usual, beloved grocery store. It remains one of the only butcher shops I've been to; an institution, if you ask me, that is dying slowly because of the complaints of one-stop shoppers who value time over custom cuts of meat and aggressive vegetarians, of which Berkeley has no shortage.

I have no idea why duck is so difficult to find in American grocery stores; it's possible that it's because we haven't developed quite the sophisticated palate as many Europeans, or people don't quite understand how to cook duck. I tend to think it's because ducks have been glorified as lovable cartoon characters described as "cute," and "funny," even though creepy Donald wears no pants and Daffy spits like an automated sprinkler on a suburban lawn. People just don't want to eat that.

When S. noticed the duck peeking out of a corner in the display, he almost didn't notice that it wasn't free range or organic (S. belongs to another gastronomical discriminatory group that Berkeley is replete with, The Organicists.). Right then and there we decided to return the following week, pick up our hormone-injected duck, and to the horror of my vegetarian roommate, cook the damn thing in its own fat for a delicious duck confit.

Then Taxes happened. Being the responsible procrastinator that I am, I saved my tax doing for a few days before the last possible minute, meaning this past weekend was tax time. I was consigned to register myself with the one-stop shoppers and pick up dinner foods at our wonderful, but expensive, and unfortunately fresh duck-less Berkeley Bowl. As a piece offering to S. who was rather disappointed about having to wait for his confit, I decided on a compromise: a tangy and peppery chicken a l'orange, traditionally made with duck rather than chicken breast.

If you didn't already know, croissants have a lot of butter..

But that's ok. According to S., butter is good for you. I'll spare everyone the extremist nutrition lecture I was subjected to. Since I've had an easier couple of weeks at work and school lately, and the sun has finally decided to end its boycott, I had some time yesterday to undergo the long process that is croissant-making. The actual time spent working on them isn't that demanding, it's the weird waiting periods.  To make sure the butter is mostly solid and doesn't melt into a greasy gooey heavenly mess, between working the dough into all those flaky layers I refrigerated it in intervals.

I can't believe it's all butter:

Mmm... breakfast in the morning. Some are chocolate filled, and some are plain, meant to be eaten with more butter and maybe some jam. Notice baby croissant! I shall name him Croissito:

For dinner, a slightly healthier option:
Chicken with mushroom sauce. Simple and heartwarming.

Soup Salad Sandwich Combo

Until recently, the weather's been pretty awful around here. It's been raining with a vengeance! Days like these, I wonder if someone upstairs is plotting the mass destruction of earthworms, by flooding, then by consumption by hungry seagulls as their vermiform dinner wiggle across the sidewalks in desperate escape.

To eat away our sorrows, S. and I decided to make some comfort food in the form of a Caesar salad (with a Swedish twist), and the classic grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Just like mom made (except not like mom made, since I'm Chinese and for comfort my mom served me dumplings and math).


Tomato Basil Bisque:
creamy, with a dash of cayenne

Grilled Cheese:
Butter-brushed Brioche, grilled with Gruyere, then baked

Swedish Caesar Salad:
Fennel seed crusted grilled chicken, bacon, soft boiled quail's eggs, dill and greens. Homemade Caesar dressing with anchovies, sour cream, and dill. Garlic olive oil croutons.

Prometheus and the Lamb

Let me tell you a story the Greeks left out. When Prometheus stole fire from the Gods and gave it to man, man rejoiced. It's red! It's hot! Let's stick a pan with some chicken in it and make ourselves a stir-fry! At first Prometheus celebrated with man; months of endless feasts rolled on and on as the party people cooked. As with all new discoveries, the initial excitement lead man and Prometheus to overindulge. In these days before gas stoves with heat adjustment dials and ovens with different leveled racks, meat was thrown straight onto the fire and man thought, "what the Hades? let's cook the shit out of this minotaur steak, just because we can." So they dined on the charred remains of all kinds of animals, and Prometheus sat at the head of the table, and it was good.

Sometime between this Olympic feasting (get it? Olympic??) and the day Zeus finally chained the guy to a rock for eternity, Prometheus was helping out in the kitchen cave and absentmindedly took a bite out of some raw lamb he was butchering. He was shocked. Everyone had been so excited to eat overcooked meat that they had forgotten how delicious meat was raw - it was tender, juicy, earthy, and most of all, tasty. It didn't have that cancerous black crust and it didn't have the consistency of asphalt. What had they been doing? And it was then that Prometheus learned to moderate the fire he had stolen. Touching the lamb with just enough heat to finish rare, instead of grilling it from here to Mount Olympus, yielded a succulent, mouth-watering product that would tempt the Gods.

I tell you this story because S. and I came to a similar realization this past weekend when we made an herb crusted rack of lamb. Fully intending to keep it in the oven long enough for medium rare, we bickered at where to stab the meat thermometer lest we get an inaccurate reading and overcook it. Finally, hunger won over patience. We slipped the rack out of the oven and tapped our feet impatiently as it rested. At the moment of truth, S. carved the thickest portion from the rest of the rack and we peered in. It looked rare. Torn between our hunger and the irrational modern day fear of eating raw meat, we decided to gamble our chances at eating the one unlucky lamb that may have had worms and no friends.

It was delicious.

Herb crusted rack of lamb with wilted spinach and mushrooms:

Unfortunately, days after his rediscovery of rare meat, Prometheus was chained to a rocky hillside somewhere. His punishment for stealing fire was to lay with his innards exposed to the sun and every day about the time when his liver was heated to the perfect temperature, an eagle would fly in and eat it rare.

A Strawberry Trilogy

When a financially challenged student cursed with a sweet tooth walks into a grocery store and sees strawberries on sale for six dollars a flat, she buys them. The problem is, a flat is a unit that is weirdly difficult to imagine outside of context of fruit. It's like asking someone to imagine the size of the universe, or more relevantly, a side of beef. I'm reminded of an I Love Lucy episode where Lucy, in the lingering excitement of buying a new walk-in freezer, buys a side of beef, not realizing exactly how much meat that really is (she ends up having to hide all that beef in a furnace and hilarity ensues...oh Lucy, you got some 'splainin to dooo).

Fortunately, I've seen that episode and have learned from our favorite redhead's folly! You see, I had a plan. A three part plan. A trilogy, if you may.

A flat of strawberries, which if you haven't figured out already, is a lot of strawberries for someone who's only really feeding herself and a part-time carb-free, full-time boyfriend. The easiest thing to do, is to pick out some of the best looking ones, and save them for eating fresh, in oatmeal, on panna cotta, etc.

The second part of this trilogy involves artfully disposing of a large proportion of the remaining, uglier strawberries. By some dirty produce arrangement trick, the ugly berries always end up on the bottom. If you're not buying organic (which these were most likely not), the ones one the bottom are the monster GMO strawberries with third limbs. The answer: jam! Mashing berries is strangely satisfying. Realizing how much sugar goes into strawberry jam, is not. End result? 4x1cup jars boiled and sealed, ready for consumption some other day.

Finally, putting some of that jam to good use, we make a Linzertorte. This is something I was only recently introduced to, but quickly fell in love with. Reminds me a little of those Pepperidge Farm Montieri Raspberry Tart cookies...only better because you can have a large slice and still call it one serving. Ground almonds form the basis of the crust and the fresh jam for the filling. I used Oma's (German Grandma) Linzertorte recipe, provided to me by not S.'s Oma (although I'm sure she had one too), but by another S.'s Oma.

And that will last 2 days if left in plain sight, 4 if you hide it in the back of the refrigerator where your "carb-free" boyfriend won't find it.

Improv Night

S. and I were busy this weekend. It was one of those unsettling, I-should-be-working couple of days when brushing your teeth seems like a waste of time. Getting out of the house to go grocery shopping, normally one of our favorite pastimes, turned into a disorganized battle against time. With no list or menu prepared, we walked in and grabbed some reliable staples - foods we know we'll like and will know what to do with. Lamb. Canned tomatoes. Brussel sprouts. Unfortunately with what came to me later in the day as a dinner idea forced us to improvise...Warning: these two dishes are probably not the best to have together, but as anyone who has ever been in a self-induced studying stupor will know, sometimes you just have to make food. Who cares if your side dish doesn't complement your entree? Many years ago some gastronomic revolutionary dared to boil down some cranberries and spoon them over turkey. I don't know the real story, but I imagine it involved an empty cupboard and a turkey overpopulation. Perhaps Native Americans were involved.

Lamb Tikka Masala (S. wanted lamb and I wanted something tomato-y)

Honey Pecan Brussel Sprouts. 

Quite an improvisation on my part, never made it like this before. We just had a bag of unfinished chopped pecans I wanted to get rid of. Like I said, didn't quite go with the Tikka Masala, but I imagine one day I'll make it again with some grilled pork chops.

When I'm not working, I chew.

After spending most of the workday at school and in the lab, I would like nothing more than to come home and eat everything I spent in my classes daydreaming about. Alas, herein lies the rub: who has the time and energy to cook after a long day? Not this weary blogger. Oh, the tragedy of the young student glutton...to be aware of what's out there and to be sadly unable to eat it.

For the greater part of this story I've resigned myself to eating the brightly colored science experiments trapped within supermarket freezers. It was my only comfort knowing that if unfrozen, these instant meals would actually rot, as opposed to certain bagged or boxed preservatives laced with food that would keep my dead corpse pristine for years after my expiration date.

Here's the real tragedy: I CAN cook. I'm not one of those people who have a difficult time boiling water (based on a real life friend who called me asking, "but how MUCH water? which pot? how will I know when it's boiling?"). I'm no Thomas Keller, but I've been known to throw together some food now and again. I just have a hard time tearing myself away from work, studying and the ever-masochistic act of watching the Food Network while hungry.

So to give this story a happy ending (beginning?) I promise to no longer voluntarily deprive myself of what I know is within my fork's reach!...when I have the time.