Foodie ships passing in the night...

This is just one reason I love my coworkers.

Micah: Hey Stephanie--what do you think about a trip to the curry truck tomorrow?
Stephanie: oh dear, I have a lunch tomorrow!
Micah: Ray & I are doing the curry truck tomorrow b/c he wants to go before his paternity leave starts. So I can do recon. :)
Stephanie: okay 
Stephanie: I'd be up for, say, a regular taco truck trip on Friday =D
Micah: I'd love tacos on Friday, but I'm out for a half day. You'll have to have one for me 
Stephanie: oh bummer 
Micah: foodie ships passing in the night...
Stephanie: LOL.
Stephanie: I just had an image of big Spanish galleons
Stephanie: laden with foods
Micah: haha!
Stephanie: passing each other in the darkness
Stephanie: moonlight and everything
Micah: I'm picturing a lot of meat & pastries

Foodie Tuesday: Brown Sugar Discs

A somewhat lazy Foodie Tuesday for you today.  If you ever wondered whether there is an alternative to having rock-hard brown sugar from which you must chisel pebbly hunks from every time you want to make chocolate chip cookies...well, wonder no more.

These nifty little terra cotta discs will restore the fluffy soft texture of your brown sugar, as it was meant to be.  And if your brown sugar is already nice and fluffy, they will keep it that way.

No, I don't really understand how they work except maybe that there is controlled release of moisture involved.  Available at a bunch of places, most conveniently Amazon

And yes, they come in all sorts of fun shapes/designs.

I'm not saying I would, but if I were to get a tattoo, it would definitely be done by Anil Gupta of Inkline Studios

I can't even remember how I found out about this guy in the first place, seeing as he operates out of New York and has done tattoos for a number of celebrities and ordinary people alike.  All I know is, if I were to commit something permanently into my skin, I'd want someone who knew what he was doing.  And Anil Gupta is like the Picasso of tattoo artists.

Also, it would probably be something lame like a lotus flower (my name, in Chinese) or some other nature-inspired pattern, because I don't have an original thought in my head when it comes to body art.

10pm supper for one: Gnocchi in egg sauce and purple carrot stir-fry

If you meet a picky eater who won't eat his/her veggies, maybe you ought to try feeding that fussy-fuss some PURPLE VEGGIES.  Because they are so much fun, and tasty besides.  You may already know I have a penchant for purple things that normally come in other colors.  I should clarify: I have a penchant for purple vegetables that normally come in other colors.  Bruises and other bodily injuries do not count.


I got these gorgeous purple carrots from, where else, Berkeley Bowl market.  I love getting things there that I can't get anywhere else.  I was dismayed to see that the purple color was so delicate - even rubbing the carrots too vigorously while washing took away a lot of the color, so I didn't even bother peeling them.  

I thought maybe like potatoes and bell peppers, the purple color would turn brown upon cooking, so I tried a couple bites of raw carrot and made a face.  I do not like raw carrots.  So I cooked it.  With sliced zucchini, mushrooms, and lots of garlic!  The purple color ended up holding well, which made me happy. I'd say it was a delicious success.  Lovely earthy texture, and the flavors went so well together I just wanted to shovel it in my mouth and dish some more.

Anyway, for starch I was attempting to make a supposed carbonara sauce and failed, but it was still tasty.  I even browned the butter before frying my gnocchi in it.  But the gnocchi were much too hot, and as soon as I dumped my egg/parmesan mixture, it curdled and became scrambled eggs.  I tried to thin the mixture with some pasta water but it was a no-go.  Scrambled eggs they were, and scrambled eggs they remained, with delightful little lumps of potato gnocchi.  Finished off with some salt and pepper, it still made a wonderfully simple and satisfying dinner.

Foodie Tuesday: Sofrito, for Cuban-style black beans

This journey began with Versailles Cuban Food in Culver City, where I first fell in love with that magical combination of black beans and fluffy white rice.  Each by itself is pretty good, but together they become more than the sum of two parts.  Don't ask me why a Cuban place is named after a French landmark.  Just ask me how delicious their food is, and I'll give you an answer: VERY.

You can tell good black beans when you spoon them over a small pile of rice and they sort of just fall slowly over themselves in this luxurious mix of sauciness and mashiness.  And when you taste them, it's got this pleasingly soft mouthfeel and thickish texture, and the cumin starts to make happy little zings across your brain.  At least, that's what cumin does to MY brain.  Cumin is hands down my favorite spice, ever.  Who needs illegal drugs when there's cumin around?

Anyway, I've tried over the years to replicate that amazing flavor at home, with very little luck.  I remember the first time I bought a pound of dry black beans from the local Mexican market, feeling so proud of myself, only to be so disappointed when I tasted my first batch of beans and found them upsettingly sweet and nothing like Versailles' Cuban-style black beans in flavor or texture.

A friend from Jamaica tsk-tsked me and told me I should NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES put onions in with black beans.  No onions!  Only garlic, and lots of it!  But when I tried her method, it still didn't come close.  She also was the one who insisted that "plantains" be prounounced plantin's, as in, "I'm plantin' a garden."  I have never heard anyone else pronounce it this way, but it stuck with me.

More recently I was absolutely determined to find a really authentic recipe for cooking Cuban-style black beans.  I was dubious of most recipes that called for not only onions, but bell peppers, which is one of my least favorite vegetables.  That is, until my search led me to this series of how-to videos on YouTube, by Expert Village. Let me tell you, this is quite possibly the world's most infuriating how-to video, because what should be a 24-minute demonstration is inexplicably chopped into 1-minute segments that are not labeled in order (part 1 of 24, part 2 of 24, etc).  That meant sitting through this annoying 6-second introduction 24 times.

However, in my grim determination I watched all 24 one-minute clips, mostly out of order, and trusted my instincts to help me put the story together. And the secret I unearthed was this: SOFRITO.

I'd never heard of sofrito before, but I learned that it's the Spanish and Latin-American equivalent of mirepoix, an aromatic combination of super-finely chopped onions, bell peppers, and spices that serves as the base for many soups, stews, and sauces.  At last, here was the key to that hauntingly delicious flavor I'd experienced at Versailles.  Despite my reservations about bell peppers, after cooking them down with spices I realized that their bitter brashness balanced the sweetness of the onions well, and it is absolutely what pulled all the flavors together.  That, and a WHOLE BIG MESS OF CUMIN.
So my super dumbed down version of how to make Cuban-style black beans involves:
  • Putting your pre-soaked black beans (about a pound) on the stove to boil, on high, with a few big chunks of bell pepper, 1-2 bay leaves, and enough water to cover.  Optional: you can use chicken stock instead of water, but adjust your salt accordingly.
  • Processing about 1 bell pepper and 1 small onion along with 2 cloves garlic (optional) in your processor or with your nimble fingers and a sharp knife.
  • Adding the vegetables to a small fry pan along with a good amount of olive oil and spices (cumin, oregano, black pepper, garlic powder, about a teaspoon or tablespoon each depending on how much you're making) and salt (start with a cautious amount; you can always add more later). This is your sofrito.
  • Cook the sofrito on medium heat until it is nicely rendered down, stirring occasionally, about 20 min.  It should be dark greenish-brown and greasy-looking and very fragrant.
  • Check your beans.  When they are fat and swollen, and starting to crack open, they are ready to receive the sofrito.
  • Take the beans and sofrito off the heat.  Mash the beans a bit, leaving about half of the beans whole, then add the sofrito and mix.
  • Add a spoonful of sugar to the pot and mix.  THIS STEP IS CRUCIAL.
  • Add maybe a quarter-cup of red wine and a splash of vinegar.  This step is nice-to-have for additional flavor but not as crucial.
  • De-glaze the pan you used to cook sofrito with a little red wine; add everything to the pot of beans.  Also a nice-to-have but not crucial.
  • Return pot to heat and simmer on low, partially covered, for several hours until the soup is super thick and creamy and yummy.  Or move the whole mess to a slow cooker, set it, and forget it.  Check back to see if you need to adjust the amount of liquid, spices, or salt.
  • Serve with fluffy white Cuban rice and your choice of Cuban meaty deliciousness.

Lessons from two different UPS locations: not all franchises are created equal.

Not a terribly groundbreaking observation, but I was struck recently by how different the customer experience can be at different locations of the same franchised brand.  In this case, I had had a particularly negative experience at the UPS location in Burlingame.  Couple points:
  • Inflexible hours (I had to return a second time because they closed right in front of my face the first time.)
  • Lack of convenient "extras" (they threatened to charge me $2 for tape to package my box, so I had to go home to package it and return a third time).
  • Unpleasant attitude from workers in general.
In contrast, I recently took another package to a location in San Mateo.  I went prepared with both my own tape and scissors, having learned my lesson from the other location.  When I arrived, close to closing time, I was immediately greeted by a kindly middle-aged man (looked like the owner of the franchise) who called me "my dear."  Sitting right there on the counter were no less than three different kinds of packing tape, all complimentary, with convenient dispensers that required no scissors at all.

As I was painstakingly packing my box, the man offered several times to help me with it.  I politely insisted on packing it myself (using quite a bit of their tape).  They did not complain that they were about to close (the delivery guy good-naturedly joked that he was paid by the hour, not by the box, or something suggesting that he didn't mind waiting a few minutes extra so I could get my box sent in time).  And in general, they were simply pleasant and lovely and sent me away with a smile on my face.

When I told the man how much better this experience had been compared to the Burlingame location, he shook his head and said, "Some people just try to nickel and dime the customers," as if it were the most pointless, nonsensical thing in the world.  I couldn't agree more. 

Needless to say, I know where I'm taking my packages when they need expedited delivery. Moral of the story: Don't nickel-and-dime your customers.  Invest in a great user experience!