Cold nights, hot pot.

I hope everyone's settling in nicely to the new year (read: going back to work wasn't so hard today compared to yesterday).

A couple times while home over the holidays, we cooked up a traditional Chinese "hot pot" -- a boiling pot of broth at the center of the table and plenty of meat, veggies, and noodles to cook in little baskets with your family. Oddly enough, I had never done hot pot with my family growing up. When I started working for my current team, they took me to Uncle Liu's in Falls Church, but until then, I had never participated.

Here's how hot pot works:

Light a fire in the middle of a table (we used a little butane burner).

Bring stock of choice to a rolling boil (we made chicken stock and ladled out a pot).

Provide each diner with a plate, bowl, soup spoon, pair of plastic chopsticks (for eating cooked meat), pair of wooden chopsticks (for cooking/handling raw meat), and a special mini basket (to hold food as it cooks in the broth).

Thinly slice raw meat onto plates with mini tongs. Assemble vegetables and noodles for cooking. Dish up a variety of savory, sour, and spicy dipping sauces.

Every person has his own "cooking" utensils; because the meat is so thinly sliced, you can cook it quickly in the boiling soup, a piece or two at a time. Pick up meat slices and drop into the baskets; submerge baskets and cook for 10-30 seconds, depending on what you're cooking (careful, sometimes if the soup is boiling rapidly enough, the meat gets away!)

Enjoy piping hot, dipped in delicious sauces.

After you've cooked all the meat, keep soup boiling and add vegetables to soup. Once the veggies are cooked, serve into individual bowls and add noodles to boiling broth. Serve noodles and soup with veggies, and enjoy!

 

Our menu: (we were spoiled with fresh seafood flown in from L.A.)

• Conch
• Razor clam
• Halibut
• Sole
• Mussels
• Beef
• Choy sum
• Enoki mushrooms
• Tofu
• Cellophane noodles
• Rice cake noodles

There's something spectacular about an already-tasty broth that has been cooking and boiling seafood and beef and vegetables and noodles (a natural thickening agent). With a little purring fire at the center of the table, hot pot is a truly cozy event.

Won't you take me to...Chinatown?

(The third and final installment of the New York food saga!)

A trip to New York for my family is never complete until we've been to Chinatown. Having grown up in the Midwest, there wasn't much in the way of good ethnic food. There's a time and a place for greasy take-out in pagoda-shaped containers, but for the real stuff, you have to go with experts (not me). Fortunately, my parents have over 100 years of combined experience eating authentic Chinese food. Notable cities with fairly reliable supply (from West-East):

• Vancouver, BC (Canada): my sister and her husband live in Seattle and were driving up with my visiting parents for the weekend. At the border coming home from a rather successful (read: gluttonous) weekend, the Customs officer asked, "And what was your reason for being in Vancouver?" My brother-in-law looked squarely at the officer and said, "Eating restaurant food." And he waved them on.
• San Francisco, CA: home of R&G Lounge, serving the biggest Alaskan king crabs and steamed jumbo prawns you ever saw.
• Chicago, IL: take your pick between downtown Chinatown and suburban gems such as Triple Crown (Oakbrook, IL).
• Toronto, ON (Canada): according Wikipedia, Toronto is more ethnically diverse than New York City, ringing in at 11.4% Chinese. Until recently, Toronto was the only place I could get Shanghainese cuisine, my absolute favorite regional specialty. Unfortunately, I don't really pay attention to restaurant names but rather just eat where my extended family knows the owners and can get a good table without a wait (a good number of establishments in Markham and Richmond Hill).
• New York, NY: the Big Apple is home to more restaurants than I could ever try -- and if you venture far enough down Manhattan to Canal St., you'll find plenty of noodle shops, seafood restaurants, Szechuan, Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese, and other regional Chinese cuisines.

On this particular trip, we took Nick to a newly recommended spot, Shanghai Asian Cuisine (nobody strained any muscles over that one -- why bother when the food speaks for itself?). Nick had never been to any sort of Chinatown before, so it was funny seeing it through his eyes. Sidewalks were even more crowded (and with even poorer drainage) than uptown. Having grown up served chopped-up chicken reassembled at the table (including the head, if you were in a restaurant), I forgot that seeing whole lacquered ducks hanging in windows can be an unnerving experience. The only moment he looked truly alarmed was walking by a grocery stand when we saw a little blue crab leap out of a basket full of its spiny brethren, fleeing for the street. He whispered to me, "This is the only place I've ever been where getting the food to the market doesn't guarantee it'll stay there." Seeing your dinner (hand-selected by the waiter) nearly walk away while you're inspecting it is par for the course. "That's how you know it's fresh," I whispered back reassuringly.

Shanghai Asian Cuisine had the classics (here's just a small sample of what we ordered) -- I wish I had gotten more photos, but I was a little preoccupied:

• Nian gao: chewy rice cakes pan fried with pork, vegetables, and soy sauce
• Thick, chewy soup noodles in a rich chicken broth (pictured above)
• Something I've never known how to transliterate but often appears on menus as "war tip": pan-seared then steam-finished pork dumplings (gyoza, in Japan)
• Xiaolong bao: the jewel of Shanghai, the soup dumpling -- if you ever wanted to simultaneously burn your mouth and be in heaven, then xiaolong bao are for you. It's the perfect steamed dumpling filled not only with delicious stuffing but also a searing hot ladle of soup prior to being sealed up.

Some of my favorite meals have been elbow-to-elbow with strangers (perhaps sharing your table) in a room smaller than my studio apartment, full of shouting waiters, and a proud "A" (or perhaps proud "B") health inspection grade hanging prominently in the window. This trip my mom, dad and I got our fix, and Nick got (and seemed to thoroughly enjoy) the full New York treatment.

Soup's on.

As I mentioned before, I've been challenged by a coworker to eat a bowl of chicken noodle soup every day in 2011. So far we're on day 229, no misses. You can follow my adventure here!

Though I love all chicken noodle soups, this particular recipe was worth blogging about (which, as Nick pointed out the other day, has replaced "worth writing home about" in this modern day). I was watching Secrets of a Restaurant Chef, a fabulous Food Network show hosted by Anne Burrell: Anne's concept is bringing restaurant techniques to the home cook, and in this particular instance, she featured chicken noodle soup. I was surprised and delighted (and further validated that chicken noodle soup is truly a beloved dish!) to see an entire special about my daily fix. Incorporating interesting, hearty flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and lemon, this recipe is a perfect example of just how versatile this comfort food can be. Once it was all steeped in flavorful goodness, it was hard to pick out the individual ingredients; rather, it was one of those delicious, blended flavors that made you say, "Huh, what is that?"

Anne's tips from the episode:

1. When working with herbs and spices, add them to the oil/sauté instead of waiting to add them to the liquid; they get toasty and release even more flavor!
2. Adding white beans to the soup imparts a velvety, rich texture.
3. Cook the pasta separately (instead of in the soup itself) to keep it nice and al dente.

~

Anne Burrell's Chicken Noodle Soup

(I used chicken stock instead of water: major time-saver, and adding chicken only boosts flavor even more!)

Extra-virgin olive oil, as needed

1 large onion, cut into 1/2" slices

4 ribs celery, cut into 1/2" dice

3 carrots, cut into 1/2" dice

Kosher salt

2 cloves garlic, smashed

2 t crushed red pepper flakes

1 bunch thyme

3 lb bone-in chicken legs and thighs, skin and excess fat removed

Water, as needed (enough to cover the chicken)

2 bay leaves

1 lemon, halved

1 t ground cinnamon

2 grates fresh nutmeg

Freshly ground black pepper

1 (15-oz) can white beans or chick peas

1 bunch cilantro, leaves coarsely chopped

2 c small pasta, preferably small shells such as orecchiette, or orzo; cooked

Coat a large stock pot with olive oil and add the onions, celery and carrots. Season with salt, to taste, and bring the pot to medium-high heat. Cook the vegetables until they start to soften and are very aromatic, about 10 minutes. Add in the garlic, crushed red pepper and thyme and cook for another 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the chicken and fill the pot with enough water to cover the chicken. Add the bay leaves, bring the ingredients to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook for 30 minutes and skim off any particles that accumulate on the surface.

Squeeze the juice of the 2 lemon halves into the soup and drop in the lemon halves. Add the cinnamon and nutmeg and taste for seasoning. Adjust the flavors with salt and pepper, if needed. Simmer the soup for an additional hour.

After the soup has finished, switch the heat off and remove the chicken to a cutting board. Discard the lemon halves, thyme and bay leaves. Let the chicken cool, then remove the bones and discard. Pull the meat into bite-sized pieces and return them to the pot. Taste the soup for seasoning, which should be spicy with a bright lemon flavor and a warm cinnamon chicken feel. It should be very full-flavored and warm your soul. Rinse the beans and add them to the pot. Adjust the seasoning, if needed.

Spoon some of the reserved pasta into the bottom of each serving bowl and ladle the hot soup over the pasta. Garnish with the chopped cilantro and serve.

A blue ribbon winner.

(Another farm box item, made with local summer squash and zucchini from Charlottesville, VA.)

When my friend Amanda and I threw a dinner party, one of the dishes was sautéed veggie ribbons with fettuccine and herbs. The other evening I was looking for something light and tasty to make out of my farm box, and I was inspired to jazz up my classic chicken noodle soup (with simple celery and carrots).

This recipe is lightning fast to prepare and can be made with pretty much any vegetable you can peel into strips with a vegetable peeler -- you can either cover the final product with a veggie or chicken stock, or you can just pour half a cup or so of broth in a pan and reduce with white wine to create a light sauce (the possibilities are endless). The key to any variation on this recipe is blanching the vegetable ribbons in salty water (to keep from washing away the flavor): this makes them retain their bright color and fresh taste, along with a fresh, crisp bite.

~

Veggie Ribbons with Noodles

1/4-1/3 lb fettuccine (serves two)

2 carrots

2 celery stalks

2 zucchini

2 summer squash

1 qt. chicken (or vegetable) stock

Cook fettuccine. Bring stock to a boil. Boil salted water and prepare another large bowl of salted ice water (you'll need more than you might think, ~ 2-3 t of salt for a big bowl of water).

Peel carrots, celery, zucchini, and squash into long ribbons with a vegetable peeler. (You won't be able to peel the very center of the zucchini and squash -- the seeds will come apart in your hands. Reserve the centers for another dish.)

When salted water is boiling, add vegetable ribbons to the water, just until the water comes back to a boil (~1 min.). When the vegetables are bright and perfectly al dente, toss them into the salted ice water to shock them and stop the cooking -- this will be what keeps them bright, colorful, toothsome, and delicious.

Add noodles and ribbons to stock, and serve.

Hidden Underground.

Since moving to the D.C. area in 2009, I've been trying to find a new ramen spot. I suppose the saga should really be introduced properly: my love affair with ramen began back in early childhood with the satisfying saltiness of the orange Maruchan packages, but I was introduced to the "real stuff" in college.

My favorite stand-by while in school was Sapporo Ramen, oddly enough nestled in the student union of Lesley University in Porter Square (Cambridge, MA). It's this tiny shop with long plastic tables and folding chairs (whose four legs never seem to be level, only adding the restaurant's charm), plastic cups, and a bossy waitress who always gives me a judgmental look when I order extra noodles. My friend and I would take the hike to the next Square over before our Japanese culture class and indulge in a bowl of "premium wave noodles" in a broth that had allegedly been boiled for 10 hours. Naturally we would be asleep within the first five minutes of lecture, tummies full of hot, noodly goodness. But did we ever learn about Japanese culture.... Ever since discovering Sapporo, I've had an insatiable appetite for ramen, and I take all my loved ones to this beloved hole-in-the wall in Porter Square (I credit the shop with a good amount of the chopsticks practice my boyfriend has had).

When I moved to D.C., I had to find a new spot. For a while Ren's was perfectly serviceable (though a bit of a hike, in Bethesda, MD) -- high-quality noodles and a similarly sketchy-yet-familiar, plastic-cup sort of feel, located behind a CVS -- until it closed indefinitely. Since then, I was on the prowl for Premium Wave Noodles when my prayers were answered: Toki Underground opened on H St. (NE). A coworker had gone and reported back "even better than Ren's." Of course, that "better" experience came with a wait time of two hours if you arrived after 5:30pm.

I finally roped some friends into braving the line with me on Friday night. It was a little hard to find, between 12th and 13th streets on that Metro-inaccessible corridor that is H St. NE -- neither underground nor with any recognizable signage, Toki Underground is literally a bit of a hidden gem (though gaining popularity fast). To my surprise and delight, we didn't have to wait at all -- the friendly hostess assured us that seating anytime before 7pm should be fine (we arrived at 6:50, just ahead of a big crowd). I ordered the Toki Hakata Classic: rich sesame flavor with a perfectly soft-boiled egg, vegetables, pickled ginger, and two generous slices of char siu. Great food, fast service, a noisy, friendly atmosphere that reminded me of my most recent ramen adventure at Ippudo in New York (where they shout a traditional Japanese greeting every time someone comes in), and interesting décor that fell somewhere between a comic store, bamboo garden, and skateboard chop shop. All in all, $12 ($10 for the bowl, $2 for the extra noodles) well spent.

Channeling my inner bubbe.

My Jewish friend once invited me to a Passover Seder. When I mentioned that I had never been to one, she said, "Oh, everyone's a little bit Jewish during Passover."

So, as inspired by the season, tonight's culinary adventure: matzoh ball soup. From what I've heard (and tasted, in the limited sampling I've done personally), I think I was relatively successful in making a nice, fluffy matzoh ball. I think it helped that I refrigerated the dough (or is it batter?) overnight, so the fat really had time to set up. Alas, I wasn't able to track down chicken fat for the occasion, but shortening did just fine. I cobbled together a few recipes from the Internet (borrowing most heavily from Ina Garten), bringing together the final recipe.

Ina suggests taking the fat off the top of your homemade chicken stock and using that -- while homemade chicken stock is something of a personal passion (my freezer always has at least one quart sitting around), only the tubs of stock from the top of the pot have the nice layer of fat that rises to the top when frozen. As I'm nearing the end of a batch, only skimmed soup was available. Oh well, it was still quite tasty.

I realize the peas are probably not totally orthodox (no pun intended), but I just love the little sweet pop--and fresh color--they add to chicken soup.

Chag Sameach, friends!

~

Matzoh Balls

1 c matzoh meal
4 eggs
1/4 c shortening
2 t salt
1/4 c hot water

Directions: Beat the eggs together with the shortening, then combine with the rest of the ingredients. Refrigerate overnight. Boil three quarts of water, salt liberally, and cook, covered, for 20 min. Add to tasty chicken soup, and serve! (I added egg noodles, peas, celery, and carrots to mine.)