#I did try special peanut butter that was fine for me in theory one time. HATED the texture never tried it since. I do not recall details
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I’m not allergic but a secret forth thing!
#I probably can’t digest them due to a rare and very much a Bitch of a medical condition#side effect of the medical condition that is also very likely the reason I survived to adulthood: everything I cannot digest is met with#a very strong survival instinct known as ‘icky get it the FUCK OUT OF MY MOUTH’#and well. I once ate a singular peanut offered to me by a friend and very much disliked it.#also I can’t have normal peanutbutter regardless of being able to digest peanuts or not due to another ingredient being the exact thing#that would have killed me if not for my ultra instinct of disgust so.#I did try special peanut butter that was fine for me in theory one time. HATED the texture never tried it since. I do not recall details#I only recall it’s never getting near my mouth ever again#side note the ‘gut feeling’ I get over shit I can’t eat is very similar to being hungover and smelling the alcohol that got you drunk#on account of the effect on the liver I’m guessing? either way I’m pretty sure my medical condition makes Common Ingredient worse for my#health then alcohol but has the same long term effect basically. so I’m also not really supposed to drink#but also as a secondary side effect I do also get a bit of the same gut reaction for alcohol in general so. also hard for me to drink since#I have to bypass the instinct that kept me alive this long to actually get drunk (once I’m drunk it’s much easier. I think)#well plus I also can’t spruce up any alcoholic beverages so it’s pure alcohol or nothing basically. I generally pick nothing
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Delores Theadoisa Hargreeves
Chapter Eleven
@tomisbaeholland
Italics = Delores' letter to Five
*Thirteen Years Old*
Dear Finn,
I've missed you. How've you been?
"I wanna time travel."
Having been lost in the book she was reading -- ironically a college history textbook -- Delores was not expecting her brother to materialize by her side, despite his fondness for doing so.
Seems silly, I know; writing a letter that you'll never get to read because I don't have anywhere to send it.
"Doors, Five! We've discussed this!" She exclaimed upon recovery from her minor heart attack.
Five rolled his eyes. In a flash of blue light, he was gone. A shave and haircut knock sounded from the other side of Delores'bedroom door, and it opened, only for Five to teleport back to her side on her bed upon closing it.
Delores huffed and lay her forehead on her book. "You know, I worked so hard, how did I mange to raise such a brat?"
"Love you too." Five nodded. "I wanna time travel."
I mean, Klaus says he can't see you -- not that he sees much of anything these days -- but I like to think it's because you pulled it off.
"Why? I can guarantee you that the world sucks no matter what year you're in."
"I wanna prove I can do it. If my spacial jumps can take me through physical space, why shouldn't they be able to take me through time?"
"Teleportation and time travel are two very different things Five." Delores informed.
I'm not sure if you're so caught up in it all that you haven't been back to visit yet,
"You don't think I can do it?" He raised an eyebrow, a defensive tone edging his voice.
or if something went wrong and you can't make it back.
"I'm not saying that. I'm saying you need to take it slowly the same way we approached the rest of your training. More so; if you get stuck in a different time there's very little we can do to get you back." She laid her hand over his. "You can accomplish anything you set your mind to Finny. I'm just not willing to put you at risk to prove a point."
Five's name had been basically forgotten by the household. No one used it anymore, and it was likely the others believed their brother had simply never had a name to begin with.
Delores was the only one to still call him Finny, and it was how he knew she was being serious. (She only used Finnegan when he was in trouble.)
"Fine. You're right."
"Try again."
"I'm wrong."
"There ya go." She smirked, nudging him with her elbow.
Five glared at her, but was unable to keep the corner of his lips from turning up. "I'm still gonna do it."
"Take pictures when you do." Delores requested. "I've got this theory that dinosaurs had feathers."
But I like to think you're out there somewhen, taking pictures like I asked you to.
******
*Several Weeks Later*
Meals in the Hargreeves household, like most times spent in Reginald's vicinity, were quiet. The sound of a Herr Carlson broadcast playing filled the empty spaces between the scrapping of cutlery and Diego carving his initials into his chair.
Not to say this stopped conversation; the Hargreeves children were quite adapt at talking with their eyes. As such, Delores caught on quite quickly to the silent argument Five seemed to be having with Vanya, along with the glares intermittently thrown her Grandfather's way.
If you end up in the future, I hope you come across a few of the signs I left for you.
Vanya was just giving her a desperate look asking for her intervention, when Five slammed his steak knife into the table.
It's a real Hail Mary, because of course, I don't exactly know where or when you are.
"Number Five?"
"I have a question."
“Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules; no talking during meal times. You are interrupting Herr Carlson.”
What are you up to Finny? Delores worried. No one, even Five as bold and brash as he could be, would dare make a scene like this in front of Reginald over small potatoes.
"I want to time travel."
Wherever it is, it must be far....
Uh oh...
"No." Reginald said flatly, not once looking up from his meal.
"But I'm ready. I've been practicing my spacial jumps, just like you and Eight said." A flash and he was standing at her Grandfather's side. "See?"
“A spacial jump is trivial when compared to the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding across the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water, and re-emerging as an acorn.”
Perhaps Delores really wasn’t getting enough sleep; that almost made sense to her. It clearly didn’t to Five however, as his smile grew stiffer. “Well, I don’t get it.”
"Hence the reason, you're not ready."
"I'm not afraid!"
“Fear isn’t the issue.” Reginald finally set down his cutlery to look at his son. “The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable. Now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore.” He turned back to his plate, clearly thinking the conversation to be over.
You don't have to worry about us though okay? I can handle everything here; you go explore. It's what you were meant to do.
Five, in all his stubbornness, had other ideas.
Several things happened in quick succession; Five ran from the room, Reginald called after him. Delores ran after Five, also ignoring her Grandfather’s calls of ‘You haven’t been excused!’
“Finny!” She chased him out the gate and down the block. Delores could see the familiar blue surrounding him and reached out to grab him. Her fingertips jus barely brushed the fabric of his jacket before he jumped through his portal and was gone.
Take lots of pictures, bring back lots of stories, there'll be a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich waiting for you.
*******
Five lit up when the season around him changed. “Not ready, my ass!” He pushed further, autum leaves turning into snow. He spots a storefront advertising polaroid cameras on Christmas special.
"Take pictures when you do."
Caring very little for the price tag, Five jumps his way into the store and picks up the first camera he sees, along with the extra paper pack that happens to be laying next to it. He jumps back to the street and barely hears the store clerk start to yell before he jumps through time again.
Only this time it didn't go so well.
Camera and supplies clatter to the ground. Five looks around in shock and fear at the wreckage around him. He can still recognize what used to be the store he had just stolen from.
We'll be waiting for you when you come home.
A sharp feeling of terror fills him and he darts back down the street the way he’d come, skidding to a halt in front of the gate he had gone through minutes before, now bent and hanging off it’s hinges.
“Eight! Vanya! Ben!” He yells into the wreckage. “Anyone!”
He runs through the broken gate and across the stone rubble. There are a collection of bodies sticking out under the dust that at first he doesn’t recognize. Then he sees the familiar umbrella tattoo on one of their arms and his heart stops.
Klaus.
Allison.
Luther.
Diego.
As he puts names to the aged faces, his stomach drops out when his eyes land on the last one.
I love you, Finny. Stay safe.
There, tucked in the back like they had been trying to protect her, is a woman a few years older than the rest, her blonde hair draped over a treble cleft tattoo on her left arm.
-- Love, #8
“No. No no nonononnono!” He runs over and shakes her slightly. “E, wake up please!” no response. Her body remains limp and her eyes remain closed. “Eight! Eight! Mom, come on please!”
Next
#tua#tua fanfic#tua imagine#umbrella academy imagines#umbrella acedmy#ben hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#deigo hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#five hargreeves#number five imagine
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Tagged by @doorsclosingslowly
Would you rather:
1. Go apple picking V.S. Go on a hayride. (I feel like ‘hayride’ probably means something very specific and obvious that I nonetheless have no idea about due to cultural mismatch.) 2. Scary V.S. Sweet. (Not that you’d know it given how I talk to people I don’t know well, I guess, but I am a high-strung critter with a low tolerance for being freaked out by things.) 3. Sweaters V.S. Boots. (Sweaters are nice in theory, but in practice my hot-blooded self will roast if I’m not wearing something that can be opened up to at least some extent. Not that I wear boots a lot either, but that has more to do with the fact that I only own two pairs, one of which is Swedish-bought winter boots that are overkill for the British weather pretty much all but two days of the year.) 4. Socks V.S. Mittens. (Honestly, I’ve hated wearing both since I was a kid, but I dislike socks slightly less and shoes are often uncomfortable without them.) 5. Bonfires V.S. Football. (Bonfires are warm. Football is either sweaty and nasty if you’re playing it, or freezing cold if you’re still and watching it. Also it’s boring.) 6. Trick or Treating V.S. Watch Scary movies. (My brief education in Spanish involved multiple horror films and I hated every minute of it. People get alarmed when you spend half an hour curled up in your chair with your hands over your ears.) 7. Apple Pie V.S. Pumpkin Pie. (Not that we ever make pumpkin pie in this house. The US takes Hallowe’en seriously, Britain makes an attempt but just doesn’t do it as well, and then there’s my family...) 8. Halloween V.S. Thanksgiving. (Swede living in Britain, so no Thanksgiving, and there isn’t really another autumnal holiday I could think of that would make sense to substitute in.) 9. Bake Pie V.S. Bake Cookies. (I cannot bake but cookies aren’t exactly special enough for me to put the effort in either.) 10. Rain V.S. Fog. (I’ve been woken up by rain a bunch of times in the last week from the storms and it’s nice.) 11. Black Cats V.S. Owls. (I love them both, but you can get closer to black cats.) 12. Ghosts V.S. Wizards. (Ghosts are just very upsetting as a concept. Don’t make me think about mortality too hard please and thank you.) 13. Harry Potter V.S. Halloweentown. (I know what Harry Potter is. Although at the age I read the books, they were... very scary.) 14. Go Hiking V.S. Sleep in. (Going out for a walk makes the rest of my life feel more manageable.) 15. Cinnamon V.S. Nutmeg. (I found a coffee with cinnamon and cardamom in it in Sweden and it was the best thing I’ve tasted all year.) 16. Reading V.S. Writing. (Both is good, but writing makes me feel more productive.) 17. Hot Chocolate V.S. Tea. (In general I’m pretty meh about both - I had the spiced chai tea we serve at work yesterday and could barely taste it until it’d been steeping for nearly 15 minutes - but I drink a fair bit of rooibos to pad out the caffeine.) 18. Live in a Cabin In a Forest V.S. Have it be Fall 24/7. (Forests are nice and cabins are cozy. Seasonwise, I would rather the weather make its mind up than wobble between almost summer and almost winter for months on end.) 19. Candy Apples V.S. Caramel Apples. (While I have no memory of trying either, the concept of candy apples is perplexing me a bit. What does one do to the apple to make it a candy apple?) 20. Blankets V.S. Pillows. (More than one blanket is rarely necessary, in my experience.) 21. Roasted marshmallows V.S. Roasted Chestnuts. (Not that I’ve had roasted chestnuts, but I know I like roasted marshmallows.) 22. Coffee V.S. Apple Cider. (Never tried apple cider, but when the owner of the coffee shop you work at thinks you drink your coffee amusingly strong...) 23. Red Leaves V.S. Orange Leaves. 24. Braids V.S. Bows. (Should have learnt to do braids before I cut half my hair off, I did like the way they looked, but anything beyond bunches was more than my lazy ass could handle.) 25. Scented Candles V.S. The Smell of Fresh Baked Goods. (My kitchen incompetence does bias me somewhat, but I like candles.) 26. Carve Pumpkins V.S. Make Pumpkin Pie. (At least you get something potentially nice out of making the pie? Assuming you like pumpkins. Which I’m not entirely sure I do. I mean, I know I’ll eat the seeds, but that’s all.) 27. Pumpkin Spice Lattes V.S. Chai Tea Lattes. (I’ve tried both exactly once, not being a big fan of lattes, but my memory of the pumpkin spice is ‘this tastes like knock-off gingerbread’ and my memory of chai latte is at least generally positive.) 28. Coats V.S. Oversized Sweaters. (See above about sweaters.) 29. Beanies V.S. Berets. (I’m sure berets are cute and all but have you met winter) 30. Candy Corn V.S. Peanut Butter Cups. (I’ve never had either to the best of my knowledge.) 31. S'mores V.S. Apple Crisp. (I’ve had s’mores a couple times. Sticky, but not unpleasant. Apple crisp is a mystery.) 32. Jump In a Pile of Leaves V.S. Swing on a Tire Swing. (Swings in general hit a point of soothing repetition for me.) 33. Corn Maze V.S. Haunted House. (Getting lost is fine and my dad taught me how to get through mazes. Getting scared constantly is less so.) 34. Bob For Apples V.S. Visit a Pumpkin Patch. (If I’m going to get soaked I would rather it be from rain.) 35. Whipped Cream on Hot Chocolate V.S. Marshmallows on Hot Chocolate. (Dairy and I have a difficult relationship that hot chocolate alone will strain. Although from my coffee shop experience, cream and marshmallows tend to go hand in hand.)
My brain is doing the name bloop thing, but if anyone feels like talking about their opinions on autumnal things, feel free to consider this a vaguetag.
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Pad Thai
Even though some think it’s a cop-out ordering Pad Thai in a Thai restaurant, marking you as a newbie, I like it quite a bit. I do tend to go for Pad See Ew, wide pan-fried rice noodles, although I’m a little picky about them because I like the dish when the chewy ribbons of noodles have stuck to the wok and start sticking together, getting charred in the process, and the dish isn’t overly saucy. Chow fun can be made like that, if you order it dry-fried, which I do.
At a book event in Paris, Danette St. Onge stopped by and gave me a copy of her book, The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook, knowing that I liked to make foods from other countries. Being from California, foods from Asia are part of our DNA, regardless of our individual ancestry. I’m happy to be part of that mix, and in Paris, Asian restaurants are thriving (and usually packed) outside of the traditional quartiers asiatiques, most notably Belleville and the 13ème. Thai cuisine isn’t as well-represented as, say, Vietnamese (perhaps due to the seasonings), so I often take matters into my own hands, or wok, or skillet, and make it myself.
When I posted a nod to a Vietnamese cookbook I liked recently, some inquired, “Are the recipes authentic?” and I didn’t know how to answer. Would that mean the recipes are made exactly the same way they were first made, which might have been hundreds (or thousands) of years ago? Or were the recipes modified and adapted over the years, as new ingredients were available, or as immigrants searched for items similar to their home countries when they moved elsewhere? I don’t know too many recipes that have stayed exactly the same since their inception, and I’m not the only one who questions whether it matters, or not.
Incoming San Francisco Chronicle food writer and critic, Soleil Ho, described authenticity as “a shackle,” when vowing never to use that word. Others are distancing themselves from the term “cheap food” as it gets applied to foods from certain parts of the world, but not others. (For some reason, we seek out an eight-buck bowl of Pho or ramen, but don’t expect to find Cacio e pepe pasta at the same price point.) Admittedly, a lot of Asian food is “street food” meant to be made, and served, quickly (and inexpensively, I guess I should add…) – without a lot of fanfare, like Pad Thai.
Speaking of controversy, I’ve seen recipes for Pad Thai that use…wait for it… ketchup, in place of the tamarind paste. I’m not a big ketchup fan (I don’t even like it on fries) but it is America’s “umami,” just like mustard is the umami of France, and fish sauce is the umami of Vietnam. But ketchup‘s origin was in China (via Vietnam), and originally made differently than what we think of ketchup today; the other version is called kĕchap or ke-chiap and used in Malaysian and Singaporean cooking, hence the connection.
The great thing about being an adult, however, if that you can make – and eat – whatever you want. Well, as long as you don’t write about it on the internet ; ) But going shopping these days can be a loaded experience, whether you write about it or not, which I kept in my mind as I headed to Belleville to gather the ingredients to make Pad Thai.
Fortunately, all the ingredients are pretty readily available, even in Paris. The only one you might need to track down is tamarind paste, which you can buy already made, or make it yourself. (I did see a version of Pad Thai that uses distilled white vinegar, in lieu of tamarind paste, which I haven’t tried. But I did actually try the ketchup version when that book came out in 1997, but it’s pretty controversial.)
Danette’s recipe didn’t have dried shrimp in it, which I like in Pad Thai, which Andy Ricker uses, as it gives Pad Thai an underlying savory flavor. But in Paris, they cost €21,99 ($25) for a frozen 400g (nearly one-pound) bag, and I knew it would take me a long, long time to finish those off, if I used them by the tablespoon. So I passed.
Danette grew up in Thailand and California, where her parents operated a Thai restaurant. She also writes for food magazines and I have to say, the recipes in her book are remarkably well-written. You know, the kind of recipes where you feel like you can actually follow what she’s saying, and she gives you a heads-up about things to look for, what might go wrong (and how to avoid them), as well as do-ahead tips. I often read cookbooks and think, hmm, was there a better way to explain something? But The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook hit all the right notes for me. And all the flavors, too.
I especially appreciated her tips on buying the flat rice noodles used for Pad Thai. The store I went to had several shelves of dried rice noodles, but no flat ones. (I joke that the farther I go to buy something in Paris, the more chance there is that they will be out of it.) Facing an empty space where the flat noodles, theoretically, should have been – which Danette said are often labeled Chataboon or Jantaboon – I found them one aisle away, in their own special place, as if they were placed there just to prove my theory right.
Romain and I were lucky I found them and we were rewarded with a speedy, definitely better-than-takeout lunch. Once you have the ingredients gathered, and prepared, this Pad Thai can be made in minutes. You are welcome to cook the noodles in advance, prepare the sauce, trim the shrimp (if you’re a vegetarian or don’t eat shellfish, you can leave them out), slice the scallions, and chop the garlic. Then, when you’re ready to go, before you know it, you’ll be at the table, enjoying this better-than-takeout Pad Thai.
Adapted from The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook by Danette St. OngeI like to add minced or crushed dried shrimp to my Pad Thai, but the ones I found in Paris were packed in 400g (about one pound) frozen bags, and were €22. I didn't think I'd use that amount very quickly, so I passed, but if you do, you add them in step 4, right after you saute the garlic. (Most Asian food shops in the U.S. sell dried shrimp in small bags.) Danette says you can use 1/3 cup of finely chopped dried shrimp in place of the fresh shrimp, "for a more traditional version," although I'd probably dial that down to one or two tablespoons.Some versions of Pad Thai have crushed dried Thai chiles added right after cooking, about 1/4 teaspoons, at the end of step 5, when adding the peanuts and other ingredients. A bit more can be sprinkled over the top, too.Pressed tofu, as shown in the post, often comes flavored with 5-spice powder, which was all I could find. Most stores that specialize in Asian ingredients carry it. If you can't find it, firm tofu is a decent substitute. Or you can make crispy tofu and cut the cubes into strips or smaller pieces for this recipe.This recipe cooks remarkably fast. It's best to prepare all the ingredients, so they're all ready to go when you heat up the skillet. The total cooking time is less than 5 minutes, so you'll want to be prepared.
4 ounces (115g) dried thin, flat rice noodles
1/4 cup (60ml) fish sauce
3 tablespoons (32g) granulated palm sugar or light brown sugar
2 tablespoons (40g) tamarind paste
3 tablespoons vegetable oil (total)
12 medium raw shrimp, peeled and deveined, with tails on (preferably)
2 tablespoons (20g) minced shallots
1 large garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 eggs, beaten together in a small bowl
1 1/2 cups (75g) bean sprouts (total)
3 ounces (80g) pressed tofu (see headnote)
3 scallions (just the green parts), cut into 1 1/2-inch (5cm) pieces
1/4 cup (35g) roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped, plus an additional 2-3 tablespoons (chopped) for garnish
fresh lime wedges, for garnish
1. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. Turn off the heat and add the noodles. Let the noodles sit in the water for 5 minutes, stirring them a few times as they sit. Drain the noodles and rinse well under cold running water, separating the noodles with your fingers, and set aside.
2. Mix the fish sauce, palm sugar, and tamarind paste in a small bowl. Set aside.
3. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a wok or large skillet over medium heat. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring occasionally, until they're just about cooked through, about 2 minutes. Remove the shrimp from the wok or skillet and set aside. (If you can only find pre-cooked shrimp, skip this step and have them ready to add later.)
4. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in the wok or skillet and add the shallots and garlic. Stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds to 1 minute, then add the cooked noodles and fish sauce mixture. Cook for about 1 minute, stirring, until everything is well combined.
5. Push the noodles to the side of the wok or skillet and add the eggs to the pan. Cook, stirring frequently, until they start to set, about 30 seconds, then add the cooked shrimp, 1 cup (50g) bean sprouts, the tofu, scallions, and 1/4 cup peanuts. Continue to cook, stirring, until everything is well combined and heated through, about 30 seconds. If the mixture looks a little dry (the noodles should be slicked with sauce with some extra floating around), add a tablespoon or so of water or chicken stock.
6. Transfer the Pad Thai to a serving plate. Serve sprinkled with the remaining bean sprouts, peanuts, and wedges of fresh lime alongside.
Related Recipes
Pim’s Pad Thai (Use Real Butter)
Pad Thai (in 5 parts) (She Simmers)
Andy Ricker talks about Thai Ingredients (Munchies)
David Thompson’s Pad Thai (Gourmet Traveler)
Tofu Press, for making your own pressed tofu (Amazon)
How to make tamarind paste (The Splendid Table)
Source: https://www.davidlebovitz.com/recipe-pad-thai-recipe-thailand-noodles/
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Pad Thai
Even though some think it’s a cop-out ordering Pad Thai in a Thai restaurant, marking you as a newbie, I like it quite a bit. I do tend to go for Pad See Ew, wide pan-fried rice noodles, although I’m a little picky about them because I like the dish when the chewy ribbons of noodles have stuck to the wok and start sticking together, getting charred in the process, and the dish isn’t overly saucy. Chow fun can be made like that, if you order it dry-fried, which I do.
At a book event in Paris, Danette St. Onge stopped by and gave me a copy of her book, The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook, knowing that I liked to make foods from other countries. Being from California, foods from Asia are part of our DNA, regardless of our individual ancestry. I’m happy to be part of that mix, and in Paris, Asian restaurants are thriving (and usually packed) outside of the traditional quartiers asiatiques, most notably Belleville and the 13ème. Thai cuisine isn’t as well-represented as, say, Vietnamese (perhaps due to the seasonings), so I often take matters into my own hands, or wok, or skillet, and make it myself.
When I posted a nod to a Vietnamese cookbook I liked recently, some inquired, “Are the recipes authentic?” and I didn’t know how to answer. Would that mean the recipes are made exactly the same way they were first made, which might have been hundreds (or thousands) of years ago? Or were the recipes modified and adapted over the years, as new ingredients were available, or as immigrants searched for items similar to their home countries when they moved elsewhere? I don’t know too many recipes that have stayed exactly the same since their inception, and I’m not the only one who questions whether it matters, or not.
Incoming San Francisco Chronicle food writer and critic, Soleil Ho, described authenticity as “a shackle,” when vowing never to use that word. Others are distancing themselves from the term “cheap food” as it gets applied to foods from certain parts of the world, but not others. (For some reason, we seek out an eight-buck bowl of Pho or ramen, but don’t expect to find Cacio e pepe pasta at the same price point.) Admittedly, a lot of Asian food is “street food” meant to be made, and served, quickly (and inexpensively, I guess I should add…) – without a lot of fanfare, like Pad Thai.
Speaking of controversy, I’ve seen recipes for Pad Thai that use…wait for it… ketchup, in place of the tamarind paste. I’m not a big ketchup fan (I don’t even like it on fries) but it is America’s “umami,” just like mustard is the umami of France, and fish sauce is the umami of Vietnam. But ketchup‘s origin was in China (via Vietnam), and originally made differently than what we think of ketchup today; the other version is called kĕchap or ke-chiap and used in Malaysian and Singaporean cooking, hence the connection.
The great thing about being an adult, however, if that you can make – and eat – whatever you want. Well, as long as you don’t write about it on the internet ; ) But going shopping these days can be a loaded experience, whether you write about it or not, which I kept in my mind as I headed to Belleville to gather the ingredients to make Pad Thai.
Fortunately, all the ingredients are pretty readily available, even in Paris. The only one you might need to track down is tamarind paste, which you can buy already made, or make it yourself. (I did see a version of Pad Thai that uses distilled white vinegar, in lieu of tamarind paste, which I haven’t tried. But I did actually try the ketchup version when that book came out in 1997, but it’s pretty controversial.)
Danette’s recipe didn’t have dried shrimp in it, which I like in Pad Thai, which Andy Ricker uses, as it gives Pad Thai an underlying savory flavor. But in Paris, they cost €21,99 ($25) for a frozen 400g (nearly one-pound) bag, and I knew it would take me a long, long time to finish those off, if I used them by the tablespoon. So I passed.
Danette grew up in Thailand and California, where her parents operated a Thai restaurant. She also writes for food magazines and I have to say, the recipes in her book are remarkably well-written. You know, the kind of recipes where you feel like you can actually follow what she’s saying, and she gives you a heads-up about things to look for, what might go wrong (and how to avoid them), as well as do-ahead tips. I often read cookbooks and think, hmm, was there a better way to explain something? But The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook hit all the right notes for me. And all the flavors, too.
I especially appreciated her tips on buying the flat rice noodles used for Pad Thai. The store I went to had several shelves of dried rice noodles, but no flat ones. (I joke that the farther I go to buy something in Paris, the more chance there is that they will be out of it.) Facing an empty space where the flat noodles, theoretically, should have been – which Danette said are often labeled Chataboon or Jantaboon – I found them one aisle away, in their own special place, as if they were placed there just to prove my theory right.
Romain and I were lucky I found them and we were rewarded with a speedy, definitely better-than-takeout lunch. Once you have the ingredients gathered, and prepared, this Pad Thai can be made in minutes. You are welcome to cook the noodles in advance, prepare the sauce, trim the shrimp (if you’re a vegetarian or don’t eat shellfish, you can leave them out), slice the scallions, and chop the garlic. Then, when you’re ready to go, before you know it, you’ll be at the table, enjoying this better-than-takeout Pad Thai.
Adapted from The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook by Danette St. OngeI like to add minced or crushed dried shrimp to my Pad Thai, but the ones I found in Paris were packed in 400g (about one pound) frozen bags, and were €22. I didn't think I'd use that amount very quickly, so I passed, but if you do, you add them in step 4, right after you saute the garlic. (Most Asian food shops in the U.S. sell dried shrimp in small bags.) Danette says you can use 1/3 cup of finely chopped dried shrimp in place of the fresh shrimp, "for a more traditional version," although I'd probably dial that down to one or two tablespoons.Some versions of Pad Thai have crushed dried Thai chiles added right after cooking, about 1/4 teaspoons, at the end of step 5, when adding the peanuts and other ingredients. A bit more can be sprinkled over the top, too.Pressed tofu, as shown in the post, often comes flavored with 5-spice powder, which was all I could find. Most stores that specialize in Asian ingredients carry it. If you can't find it, firm tofu is a decent substitute. Or you can make crispy tofu and cut the cubes into strips or smaller pieces for this recipe.This recipe cooks remarkably fast. It's best to prepare all the ingredients, so they're all ready to go when you heat up the skillet. The total cooking time is less than 5 minutes, so you'll want to be prepared.
4 ounces (115g) dried thin, flat rice noodles
1/4 cup (60ml) fish sauce
3 tablespoons (32g) granulated palm sugar or light brown sugar
2 tablespoons (40g) tamarind paste
3 tablespoons vegetable oil (total)
12 medium raw shrimp, peeled and deveined, with tails on (preferably)
2 tablespoons (20g) minced shallots
1 large garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 eggs, beaten together in a small bowl
1 1/2 cups (75g) bean sprouts (total)
3 ounces (80g) pressed tofu (see headnote)
3 scallions (just the green parts), cut into 1 1/2-inch (5cm) pieces
1/4 cup (35g) roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped, plus an additional 2-3 tablespoons (chopped) for garnish
fresh lime wedges, for garnish
1. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. Turn off the heat and add the noodles. Let the noodles sit in the water for 5 minutes, stirring them a few times as they sit. Drain the noodles and rinse well under cold running water, separating the noodles with your fingers, and set aside.
2. Mix the fish sauce, palm sugar, and tamarind paste in a small bowl. Set aside.
3. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a wok or large skillet over medium heat. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring occasionally, until they're just about cooked through, about 2 minutes. Remove the shrimp from the wok or skillet and set aside. (If you can only find pre-cooked shrimp, skip this step and have them ready to add later.)
4. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in the wok or skillet and add the shallots and garlic. Stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds to 1 minute, then add the cooked noodles and fish sauce mixture. Cook for about 1 minute, stirring, until everything is well combined.
5. Push the noodles to the side of the wok or skillet and add the eggs to the pan. Cook, stirring frequently, until they start to set, about 30 seconds, then add the cooked shrimp, 1 cup (50g) bean sprouts, the tofu, scallions, and 1/4 cup peanuts. Continue to cook, stirring, until everything is well combined and heated through, about 30 seconds. If the mixture looks a little dry (the noodles should be slicked with sauce with some extra floating around), add a tablespoon or so of water or chicken stock.
6. Transfer the Pad Thai to a serving plate. Serve sprinkled with the remaining bean sprouts, peanuts, and wedges of fresh lime alongside.
Related Recipes
Pim’s Pad Thai (Use Real Butter)
Pad Thai (in 5 parts) (She Simmers)
Andy Ricker talks about Thai Ingredients (Munchies)
David Thompson’s Pad Thai (Gourmet Traveler)
Tofu Press, for making your own pressed tofu (Amazon)
How to make tamarind paste (The Splendid Table)
Source: https://www.davidlebovitz.com/recipe-pad-thai-recipe-thailand-noodles/
0 notes
Text
Pad Thai
Even though some think it’s a cop-out ordering Pad Thai in a Thai restaurant, marking you as a newbie, I like it quite a bit. I do tend to go for Pad See Ew, wide pan-fried rice noodles, although I’m a little picky about them because I like the dish when the chewy ribbons of noodles have stuck to the wok and start sticking together, getting charred in the process, and the dish isn’t overly saucy. Chow fun can be made like that, if you order it dry-fried, which I do.
At a book event in Paris, Danette St. Onge stopped by and gave me a copy of her book, The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook, knowing that I liked to make foods from other countries. Being from California, foods from Asia are part of our DNA, regardless of our individual ancestry. I’m happy to be part of that mix, and in Paris, Asian restaurants are thriving (and usually packed) outside of the traditional quartiers asiatiques, most notably Belleville and the 13ème. Thai cuisine isn’t as well-represented as, say, Vietnamese (perhaps due to the seasonings), so I often take matters into my own hands, or wok, or skillet, and make it myself.
When I posted a nod to a Vietnamese cookbook I liked recently, some inquired, “Are the recipes authentic?” and I didn’t know how to answer. Would that mean the recipes are made exactly the same way they were first made, which might have been hundreds (or thousands) of years ago? Or were the recipes modified and adapted over the years, as new ingredients were available, or as immigrants searched for items similar to their home countries when they moved elsewhere? I don’t know too many recipes that have stayed exactly the same since their inception, and I’m not the only one who questions whether it matters, or not.
Incoming San Francisco Chronicle food writer and critic, Soleil Ho, described authenticity as “a shackle,” when vowing never to use that word. Others are distancing themselves from the term “cheap food” as it gets applied to foods from certain parts of the world, but not others. (For some reason, we seek out an eight-buck bowl of Pho or ramen, but don’t expect to find Cacio e pepe pasta at the same price point.) Admittedly, a lot of Asian food is “street food” meant to be made, and served, quickly (and inexpensively, I guess I should add…) – without a lot of fanfare, like Pad Thai.
Speaking of controversy, I’ve seen recipes for Pad Thai that use…wait for it… ketchup, in place of the tamarind paste. I’m not a big ketchup fan (I don’t even like it on fries) but it is America’s “umami,” just like mustard is the umami of France, and fish sauce is the umami of Vietnam. But ketchup‘s origin was in China (via Vietnam), and originally made differently than what we think of ketchup today; the other version is called kĕchap or ke-chiap and used in Malaysian and Singaporean cooking, hence the connection.
The great thing about being an adult, however, if that you can make – and eat – whatever you want. Well, as long as you don’t write about it on the internet ; ) But going shopping these days can be a loaded experience, whether you write about it or not, which I kept in my mind as I headed to Belleville to gather the ingredients to make Pad Thai.
Fortunately, all the ingredients are pretty readily available, even in Paris. The only one you might need to track down is tamarind paste, which you can buy already made, or make it yourself. (I did see a version of Pad Thai that uses distilled white vinegar, in lieu of tamarind paste, which I haven’t tried. But I did actually try the ketchup version when that book came out in 1997, but it’s pretty controversial.)
Danette’s recipe didn’t have dried shrimp in it, which I like in Pad Thai, which Andy Ricker uses, as it gives Pad Thai an underlying savory flavor. But in Paris, they cost €21,99 ($25) for a frozen 400g (nearly one-pound) bag, and I knew it would take me a long, long time to finish those off, if I used them by the tablespoon. So I passed.
Danette grew up in Thailand and California, where her parents operated a Thai restaurant. She also writes for food magazines and I have to say, the recipes in her book are remarkably well-written. You know, the kind of recipes where you feel like you can actually follow what she’s saying, and she gives you a heads-up about things to look for, what might go wrong (and how to avoid them), as well as do-ahead tips. I often read cookbooks and think, hmm, was there a better way to explain something? But The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook hit all the right notes for me. And all the flavors, too.
I especially appreciated her tips on buying the flat rice noodles used for Pad Thai. The store I went to had several shelves of dried rice noodles, but no flat ones. (I joke that the farther I go to buy something in Paris, the more chance there is that they will be out of it.) Facing an empty space where the flat noodles, theoretically, should have been – which Danette said are often labeled Chataboon or Jantaboon – I found them one aisle away, in their own special place, as if they were placed there just to prove my theory right.
Romain and I were lucky I found them and we were rewarded with a speedy, definitely better-than-takeout lunch. Once you have the ingredients gathered, and prepared, this Pad Thai can be made in minutes. You are welcome to cook the noodles in advance, prepare the sauce, trim the shrimp (if you’re a vegetarian or don’t eat shellfish, you can leave them out), slice the scallions, and chop the garlic. Then, when you’re ready to go, before you know it, you’ll be at the table, enjoying this better-than-takeout Pad Thai.
Adapted from The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook by Danette St. OngeI like to add minced or crushed dried shrimp to my Pad Thai, but the ones I found in Paris were packed in 400g (about one pound) frozen bags, and were €22. I didn't think I'd use that amount very quickly, so I passed, but if you do, you add them in step 4, right after you saute the garlic. (Most Asian food shops in the U.S. sell dried shrimp in small bags.) Danette says you can use 1/3 cup of finely chopped dried shrimp in place of the fresh shrimp, "for a more traditional version," although I'd probably dial that down to one or two tablespoons.Some versions of Pad Thai have crushed dried Thai chiles added right after cooking, about 1/4 teaspoons, at the end of step 5, when adding the peanuts and other ingredients. A bit more can be sprinkled over the top, too.Pressed tofu, as shown in the post, often comes flavored with 5-spice powder, which was all I could find. Most stores that specialize in Asian ingredients carry it. If you can't find it, firm tofu is a decent substitute. Or you can make crispy tofu and cut the cubes into strips or smaller pieces for this recipe.This recipe cooks remarkably fast. It's best to prepare all the ingredients, so they're all ready to go when you heat up the skillet. The total cooking time is less than 5 minutes, so you'll want to be prepared.
4 ounces (115g) dried thin, flat rice noodles
1/4 cup (60ml) fish sauce
3 tablespoons (32g) granulated palm sugar or light brown sugar
2 tablespoons (40g) tamarind paste
3 tablespoons vegetable oil (total)
12 medium raw shrimp, peeled and deveined, with tails on (preferably)
2 tablespoons (20g) minced shallots
1 large garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 eggs, beaten together in a small bowl
1 1/2 cups (75g) bean sprouts (total)
3 ounces (80g) pressed tofu (see headnote)
3 scallions (just the green parts), cut into 1 1/2-inch (5cm) pieces
1/4 cup (35g) roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped, plus an additional 2-3 tablespoons (chopped) for garnish
fresh lime wedges, for garnish
1. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. Turn off the heat and add the noodles. Let the noodles sit in the water for 5 minutes, stirring them a few times as they sit. Drain the noodles and rinse well under cold running water, separating the noodles with your fingers, and set aside.
2. Mix the fish sauce, palm sugar, and tamarind paste in a small bowl. Set aside.
3. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a wok or large skillet over medium heat. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring occasionally, until they're just about cooked through, about 2 minutes. Remove the shrimp from the wok or skillet and set aside. (If you can only find pre-cooked shrimp, skip this step and have them ready to add later.)
4. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in the wok or skillet and add the shallots and garlic. Stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds to 1 minute, then add the cooked noodles and fish sauce mixture. Cook for about 1 minute, stirring, until everything is well combined.
5. Push the noodles to the side of the wok or skillet and add the eggs to the pan. Cook, stirring frequently, until they start to set, about 30 seconds, then add the cooked shrimp, 1 cup (50g) bean sprouts, the tofu, scallions, and 1/4 cup peanuts. Continue to cook, stirring, until everything is well combined and heated through, about 30 seconds. If the mixture looks a little dry (the noodles should be slicked with sauce with some extra floating around), add a tablespoon or so of water or chicken stock.
6. Transfer the Pad Thai to a serving plate. Serve sprinkled with the remaining bean sprouts, peanuts, and wedges of fresh lime alongside.
Related Recipes
Pim’s Pad Thai (Use Real Butter)
Pad Thai (in 5 parts) (She Simmers)
Andy Ricker talks about Thai Ingredients (Munchies)
David Thompson’s Pad Thai (Gourmet Traveler)
Tofu Press, for making your own pressed tofu (Amazon)
How to make tamarind paste (The Splendid Table)
Source: https://www.davidlebovitz.com/recipe-pad-thai-recipe-thailand-noodles/
0 notes
Text
Pad Thai
Even though some think it’s a cop-out ordering Pad Thai in a Thai restaurant, marking you as a newbie, I like it quite a bit. I do tend to go for Pad See Ew, wide pan-fried rice noodles, although I’m a little picky about them because I like the dish when the chewy ribbons of noodles have stuck to the wok and start sticking together, getting charred in the process, and the dish isn’t overly saucy. Chow fun can be made like that, if you order it dry-fried, which I do.
At a book event in Paris, Danette St. Onge stopped by and gave me a copy of her book, The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook, knowing that I liked to make foods from other countries. Being from California, foods from Asia are part of our DNA, regardless of our individual ancestry. I’m happy to be part of that mix, and in Paris, Asian restaurants are thriving (and usually packed) outside of the traditional quartiers asiatiques, most notably Belleville and the 13ème. Thai cuisine isn’t as well-represented as, say, Vietnamese (perhaps due to the seasonings), so I often take matters into my own hands, or wok, or skillet, and make it myself.
When I posted a nod to a Vietnamese cookbook I liked recently, some inquired, “Are the recipes authentic?” and I didn’t know how to answer. Would that mean the recipes are made exactly the same way they were first made, which might have been hundreds (or thousands) of years ago? Or were the recipes modified and adapted over the years, as new ingredients were available, or as immigrants searched for items similar to their home countries when they moved elsewhere? I don’t know too many recipes that have stayed exactly the same since their inception, and I’m not the only one who questions whether it matters, or not.
Incoming San Francisco Chronicle food writer and critic, Soleil Ho, described authenticity as “a shackle,” when vowing never to use that word. Others are distancing themselves from the term “cheap food” as it gets applied to foods from certain parts of the world, but not others. (For some reason, we seek out an eight-buck bowl of Pho or ramen, but don’t expect to find Cacio e pepe pasta at the same price point.) Admittedly, a lot of Asian food is “street food” meant to be made, and served, quickly (and inexpensively, I guess I should add…) – without a lot of fanfare, like Pad Thai.
Speaking of controversy, I’ve seen recipes for Pad Thai that use…wait for it… ketchup, in place of the tamarind paste. I’m not a big ketchup fan (I don’t even like it on fries) but it is America’s “umami,” just like mustard is the umami of France, and fish sauce is the umami of Vietnam. But ketchup‘s origin was in China (via Vietnam), and originally made differently than what we think of ketchup today; the other version is called kĕchap or ke-chiap and used in Malaysian and Singaporean cooking, hence the connection.
The great thing about being an adult, however, if that you can make – and eat – whatever you want. Well, as long as you don’t write about it on the internet ; ) But going shopping these days can be a loaded experience, whether you write about it or not, which I kept in my mind as I headed to Belleville to gather the ingredients to make Pad Thai.
Fortunately, all the ingredients are pretty readily available, even in Paris. The only one you might need to track down is tamarind paste, which you can buy already made, or make it yourself. (I did see a version of Pad Thai that uses distilled white vinegar, in lieu of tamarind paste, which I haven’t tried. But I did actually try the ketchup version when that book came out in 1997, but it’s pretty controversial.)
Danette’s recipe didn’t have dried shrimp in it, which I like in Pad Thai, which Andy Ricker uses, as it gives Pad Thai an underlying savory flavor. But in Paris, they cost €21,99 ($25) for a frozen 400g (nearly one-pound) bag, and I knew it would take me a long, long time to finish those off, if I used them by the tablespoon. So I passed.
Danette grew up in Thailand and California, where her parents operated a Thai restaurant. She also writes for food magazines and I have to say, the recipes in her book are remarkably well-written. You know, the kind of recipes where you feel like you can actually follow what she’s saying, and she gives you a heads-up about things to look for, what might go wrong (and how to avoid them), as well as do-ahead tips. I often read cookbooks and think, hmm, was there a better way to explain something? But The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook hit all the right notes for me. And all the flavors, too.
I especially appreciated her tips on buying the flat rice noodles used for Pad Thai. The store I went to had several shelves of dried rice noodles, but no flat ones. (I joke that the farther I go to buy something in Paris, the more chance there is that they will be out of it.) Facing an empty space where the flat noodles, theoretically, should have been – which Danette said are often labeled Chataboon or Jantaboon – I found them one aisle away, in their own special place, as if they were placed there just to prove my theory right.
Romain and I were lucky I found them and we were rewarded with a speedy, definitely better-than-takeout lunch. Once you have the ingredients gathered, and prepared, this Pad Thai can be made in minutes. You are welcome to cook the noodles in advance, prepare the sauce, trim the shrimp (if you’re a vegetarian or don’t eat shellfish, you can leave them out), slice the scallions, and chop the garlic. Then, when you’re ready to go, before you know it, you’ll be at the table, enjoying this better-than-takeout Pad Thai.
Adapted from The Better-Than-Takeout Thai Cookbook by Danette St. OngeI like to add minced or crushed dried shrimp to my Pad Thai, but the ones I found in Paris were packed in 400g (about one pound) frozen bags, and were €22. I didn't think I'd use that amount very quickly, so I passed, but if you do, you add them in step 4, right after you saute the garlic. (Most Asian food shops in the U.S. sell dried shrimp in small bags.) Danette says you can use 1/3 cup of finely chopped dried shrimp in place of the fresh shrimp, "for a more traditional version," although I'd probably dial that down to one or two tablespoons.Some versions of Pad Thai have crushed dried Thai chiles added right after cooking, about 1/4 teaspoons, at the end of step 5, when adding the peanuts and other ingredients. A bit more can be sprinkled over the top, too.Pressed tofu, as shown in the post, often comes flavored with 5-spice powder, which was all I could find. Most stores that specialize in Asian ingredients carry it. If you can't find it, firm tofu is a decent substitute. Or you can make crispy tofu and cut the cubes into strips or smaller pieces for this recipe.This recipe cooks remarkably fast. It's best to prepare all the ingredients, so they're all ready to go when you heat up the skillet. The total cooking time is less than 5 minutes, so you'll want to be prepared.
4 ounces (115g) dried thin, flat rice noodles
1/4 cup (60ml) fish sauce
3 tablespoons (32g) granulated palm sugar or light brown sugar
2 tablespoons (40g) tamarind paste
3 tablespoons vegetable oil (total)
12 medium raw shrimp, peeled and deveined, with tails on (preferably)
2 tablespoons (20g) minced shallots
1 large garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 eggs, beaten together in a small bowl
1 1/2 cups (75g) bean sprouts (total)
3 ounces (80g) pressed tofu (see headnote)
3 scallions (just the green parts), cut into 1 1/2-inch (5cm) pieces
1/4 cup (35g) roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped, plus an additional 2-3 tablespoons (chopped) for garnish
fresh lime wedges, for garnish
1. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. Turn off the heat and add the noodles. Let the noodles sit in the water for 5 minutes, stirring them a few times as they sit. Drain the noodles and rinse well under cold running water, separating the noodles with your fingers, and set aside.
2. Mix the fish sauce, palm sugar, and tamarind paste in a small bowl. Set aside.
3. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a wok or large skillet over medium heat. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring occasionally, until they're just about cooked through, about 2 minutes. Remove the shrimp from the wok or skillet and set aside. (If you can only find pre-cooked shrimp, skip this step and have them ready to add later.)
4. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in the wok or skillet and add the shallots and garlic. Stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds to 1 minute, then add the cooked noodles and fish sauce mixture. Cook for about 1 minute, stirring, until everything is well combined.
5. Push the noodles to the side of the wok or skillet and add the eggs to the pan. Cook, stirring frequently, until they start to set, about 30 seconds, then add the cooked shrimp, 1 cup (50g) bean sprouts, the tofu, scallions, and 1/4 cup peanuts. Continue to cook, stirring, until everything is well combined and heated through, about 30 seconds. If the mixture looks a little dry (the noodles should be slicked with sauce with some extra floating around), add a tablespoon or so of water or chicken stock.
6. Transfer the Pad Thai to a serving plate. Serve sprinkled with the remaining bean sprouts, peanuts, and wedges of fresh lime alongside.
Related Recipes
Pim’s Pad Thai (Use Real Butter)
Pad Thai (in 5 parts) (She Simmers)
Andy Ricker talks about Thai Ingredients (Munchies)
David Thompson’s Pad Thai (Gourmet Traveler)
Tofu Press, for making your own pressed tofu (Amazon)
How to make tamarind paste (The Splendid Table)
Source: https://www.davidlebovitz.com/recipe-pad-thai-recipe-thailand-noodles/
0 notes
Text
Beer with a Painter: Jennifer Coates (Hyperallergic)
Jennifer Samet: You grew up in a suburb of Philadelphia. I’m guessing, based on what you have told me about your background, that you didn’t actually grow up eating the mass-produced foods that have become a subject of your work.
Jennifer Coates: In 2016, I had a show, Carb Load, at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. My mother came to the opening. She was saying to everyone, “I just want you to know, I did not feed Jennifer these foods.” And it’s true! My parents prided themselves on their gourmet cooking skills. I learned to cook from my dad. My friends at school would all eat tuna fish sandwiches on white bread with the crusts cut off. They had ravioli from the can. Those foods freaked me out. And I was just not cool and got teased for everything — from playing the violin to having nice, cute lunches, like a roast beef sandwich with mustard on multigrain bread.
So, I am recapitulating my sense of being an alien as a child. “I’m wrong, everything I do is wrong. I’m different from you, and I don’t understand you.” It is a comfortable perspective, in a way.
JS: Was art-making a part of your childhood? Were there artists in your family?
JC: Drawing was my thing. I drew all the time, picture after picture of wide-eyed little girls. They were like children of the corn, recurring and repeating and multiplying. In high school, I remember being miserable and thinking, “The only thing I have control over is what is on this piece of paper.” From time to time, it’s good to tap into that original impulse — when art history and contextualizing your work can start to take over. It’s about trying to make sense of how to be a person.
Recently, I found a drawing I made for my father, when I was eight or nine years old. He had sprained his ankle, and I was trying to make him feel better. So I made this drawing of an enormous hamburger with five different patties and all kinds of condiments, and his tankard of beer. It’s like you have one idea your whole life, and that’s it.
My maternal grandmother was really amazing. She took art classes starting in her 50s, and then went back to school to get her BFA when she was already a grandmother. She lived in Canada, and when I visited, I slept in her studio, with stacks of paintings. I saw her thesis show when I was in high school. She had learned how to cast in bronze, she made jewelry, and she made these ambitious paintings that were embedded with her experience of being a Jewish immigrant. She was a difficult person, but always very interested in what I was up to. It meant a lot to me.
JS: There’s something you told me a few years ago in your studio that I always think about. You said you grew up with an atheist Jewish mother and that experimenting with spirituality felt like the most forbidden thing. It was very funny. I’ve been thinking about it, since I know you explore relationships between the Occult and modernist art. You also consider your work to have a devotional, iconic quality.
JC: Yes, when I was an undergraduate at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, a friend of mine was involved in a born-again Christian community. Sometimes I went to church with her. I didn’t know if I believed all of it, and I wasn’t necessarily attracted to organized religion. But there was something so ecstatic, which was attractive to me. And yes, I would worry that somehow my mother was going to discover me saying, “Praise Jesus!”
I liked how the ecstatic reorients you to the moment you are in, and wakes you up. My mother saying, “God doesn’t exist… and tell your friends,” just didn’t do it for me. I think anything that makes you feel liberated, in terms of how you see reality, is a good thing. A whole world opens up when we really look at all the things that we put on our bodies, and put in ourselves. I’d rather have that be magical than neutral.
JS: At that time, when I visited your studio, you were making abstract paintings with a lot of pattern and tessellation. When and how did you move into the food-based paintings?
JC: Around the time you visited, I was probably working on “Picnic” (2014). It was a skeletal black warping grid with stuff oozing out of it. I was frustrated with it and didn’t want to be in this nebulous architectural abstraction anymore.
For a few months, I was background processing, trying to figure out where I wanted to go with the work. I had a couple of experiences that affected me. I visited Nicole Eisenman’s studio. She has known my work for a long time. I saw the painting “Under the Table 2” (2014) in the studio, which shows a huge cutaway of salami, and people hanging around the table. There are flecks of fat and meat in it. I was amazed by the painting, and Nicole said, “You could have painted those dots in the meat.” I thought, “Wow. What would it be like, to go from what I’ve been doing, to painting salami?”
Then I came across an image of a Claes Oldenburg sculpture, “Cash Register” (1961). I thought about how it was completely of its moment, but it also looks like it was dug out of the earth. It was like an ancient sculpture.
I also saw photographs of a friend’s vacation in Iceland. There were beautiful, primeval landscapes, and images of him and his wife, sitting at picnic tables, eating little snacks. Little by little, something started to cement in my head, where I thought, “I can talk about the sublime – this radiant, transcendent presence that I’m trying to coax out of paint, and also anchor it back to the everyday.”
I decided it would be really exciting to go back into the black grid with a gingham pattern. It didn’t change anything about how I was painting. But I named it, and made it specific, so that anyone looking at the painting would read it as a picnic blanket or tablecloth. On this particular surface, everything that happened on it or erupted from it felt food-oriented. A stain wasn’t just a painterly stain; it was a barf stain or something that spilled over. That was the beginning of the food.
JS: It seems that your concern in these paintings is to establish an equivalence between the paint and the food substance. Is that accurate?
JC: Paint can do what it wants to do, and the references can be multiple and diffuse. If I am doing a spray of paint, it is icing as well as a Jackson Pollock move. The food often just stages an opportunity. Is it going to be a Pointillist business, or a zip down the middle, or Abstract Expressionism? It became a way to have a lot more fun.
You also begin to think about all the weird decisions that go into preparing foods. There are aesthetic decisions that are not just about nourishment. You want things to look a certain way, or have a certain ratio of liquid to solid. That struck me as exciting to explore.
When you are spreading something on a piece of bread with a knife, you put it on in a special way. Some kids like more peanut butter, and some like more jelly. There are always aesthetic decisions. And I thought, “Well, that’s funny. Maybe making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a painting indoctrination experience.”
JS: I wonder why, if you are in search of the spiritual, your subject was mass-produced food. Aren’t they kind of polar opposites?
JC: Embedded in it is a critique. These processed foods are toxic — for us and for the planet. If you buy a Danish, you get a plastic-encased thing. You open it up, and the thing inside has more in common with the packaging than it does with something from your grandmother’s kitchen. How did this food become what it is? It is now made from synthetic chemicals, but why is it the shape it is? The Danish is a spiral — an ancient shape. So, for me, it’s a way to meditate on both the mysterious and toxic nature of processed food.
JS: What kinds of discoveries have you made as far as relating food shapes to symbols and forms?
JC: They are theories more than discoveries. I am sort of a conspiracy theorist-type person. I love this idea of, “Guess what?! This thing that you are so used to and never consider is actually the bearer of ancient ritual religious behavior.” I love making up stories about where things came from and finding deep-time precursors — shape rhymes throughout history.
It is interesting that as human beings we’ve been attracted to certain kinds of forms and shapes and behaviors. We tend to say, “It’s just decorative,” but what if there is something in our anatomy that draws us to similar patterns?
Lately, in lectures on my work, I am making connections between pasta shapes and entoptic forms. Entopic phenomena are the result of your visual cortex seeing your neuroanatomy. Experiments, like the ones that Heinrich Klüver did in the 1920s, have shown that people under the influence of certain hallucinogens draw specific patterns and shapes. The shapes are categorized and called “Klüver forms.” Similar kinds of forms and shapes can be found in petroglyphs and early Paleolithic art.
When I was doing excavation into the bagel shape, I saw images of yoni carved stone forms found in Israel eight thousand years ago. They are thought to conform to fertility or female genitalia worship. They were circular shapes with a hole in the center and a slit down the middle. For me, that’s all I need. You get a bagel, but it’s a bearer of this ancient ritual, affiliated with matriarchy and female shamans.
JS: So when you say they are theories, you’re not necessarily tying to prove them? I know you are interested in the work of Terence McKenna, the ethnobotanist and mystic. How did his work influence you?
JC: When I come up with a theory, it’s not verbal — it is visual. I lay out the pictures.
I want to trust the visual part of my brain — the part that is intuitive, and has shape recognition and pattern recognition. I’m trying to prove my theory through images. My hope is that if you are allowing yourself to think purely visually, you can be very thorough and engaged with what’s around you.
I got into Terence McKenna through the painter Steve DiBenedetto. His lectures are archived online, and I have listened to them constantly in my studio for years. McKenna changed my way of thinking. The desire to dig into history, improvise, and make up a story came from him. McKenna read everything, but he plays with all of the information and ideas. He’s not beholden to any of it. He wasn’t a scholar or a scientist. He just says, “Here’s what I think.”
JS: It seems as if you make a lot of painting jokes in your work. The sprinkles or dots can be abstract ellipses. Are you interested in Pattern and Decoration artists, or Op Art? Who are the figures in art history you are talking to the most?
JC: There are a lot of painting jokes. There are all kinds of moments where I think I can pretend to be this or that artist. It is very satisfying. With the bread and the popsicle paintings, I think about Rothko and Color Field painting. How can the popsicle be radiant? I’m thinking about a color relationship where the paint isn’t just naming something, but also transcending itself.
As for Pattern painters, I’ve always liked James Siena’s work a lot. I like Bridget Riley, but I would want to pee on it. I always want to do something to mess with Op Art.
Turner is somebody I come back to over and over and over again. The moments of light in his paintings are the most impressive and the most physical, but they are also the most ethereal — barely there. It is abject light and also transformative. I love that you can have something be really mucky and crusty, and also a ghost.
Hopefully, what comes across in my work is a kind of heightened devotional object that has a radiant presence. I was thinking about sacrificial stone altars. The slab, where an animal is getting killed with a knife, is like the first abstract expressionist painting. So making a sandwich and spreading substances around with a knife is like a weird descendent of the sacrifice. Peanut butter and jelly can look like bodily fluids or innards. It is gooey business.
JS: Do you see your paintings as feminist in the sense that they are acknowledging this kind of messiness? It is what Mira Schor talks about in “Figure/Ground” (1989), which is an essay you have cited as an influence.
JC: When I was an undergraduate, I was obsessed with Kiki Smith and body art. It was the early 1990s — that moment when body art was prominent. I took a feminist art history class at the University of Pennsylvania. I came from the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, where you draw from life and study anatomy. That art history class showed there was a way to use the body to communicate a political, feminist message. That concern with how the body is fragile, and breaks down, and there is pee and blood — I was really into that. And that interest has never left me.
So for me, paint is very bodily. As much as it sort of organizes itself to be a depiction of something, it’s also always restating itself as this amorphous pile of goo. What’s a more amorphous pile of goo than the innards or a decaying corpse? I was trying to paint a sandwich, but then I said, “It is a fucking bloody vagina.” That’s what it is. I want it to look like that. If someone sees something that’s embarrassing and kind of weird, a stain that’s wrong, then I feel good.
I’m really excited about those moments where it becomes unruly and messy, anti-logic or anti-gravity. In his book The Swerve, Stephen Greenblatt discusses ancient Greek and Roman atomistic theory. The idea was that tiny particles shower down in the cosmos, moving in parallel lines. Every now and then, one goes out of its path. That is when things interact. It is that interruption of the pattern, and that interaction, which causes things to happen. Evolution happens. Systems self-exceed. Things progress when there is a mistake. So, I prefer the mistake.
The thing that makes many artists interesting is how they re-tool the past. They confuse our relationship to what we thought was familiar. You have to trust that part of your brain — the part that goes, This, on top of that. Something erupts from the matrix and the orderly. Then, all of a sudden, everything is exciting.
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20.
Why did you close the door the last time you closed one? The last door I closed was my bedroom door. I got some gerbils in April and since I also have a cat I don’t trust her at night not to somehow knock their tank over or just get to them. So every night I carry them to my room and every morning I take them back to their spot on the bookshelf. It’s a bit extra....haha Stripes or polka dots? Stripes. Do you care if people touch you when they’re talking to you? No. Unless it’s a stranger. When it’s someone I know I take it as a sign of affection or that they feel comfortable around me, which I like. What is your gender? Female. Do you think that people think its obvious? I’d say so based on my stereotypical appearance.
How long did your first date last? 3ish hours? It was so long ago I don’t really remember. Is your favorite color within 10 feet of you? Yes. Highlight of your day? I’ve had the house all to myself for the first time in months. And as an introvert this has just been heaven. Would you rather be on a boat or a plane? It depends, obviously. If I want to get somewhere quickly then I’d choose a plane. If I want to see some sights or maybe have a thrill I’d pick a boat. Can you tell when girls (or guys) have eyeliner on? Yeah, I have functioning eyes. Can you cook? I can follow a recipe. How high is your ceiling? 8.5ft? What’s a standard American home height? Because that’s what this is. Whats the worst job you can think of? One that you hate and is also life threatening. Do you swear a lot? I swear so much. Does the last person you texted have an O in their name? yes. Is everything working in your house? A light is out, but other than that I guess so. Would you rather have a pool or a trampoline? A pool! I had a trampoline growing up but I always wanted a pool. Does pop give you energy? The music or the drink? Guess it doesn’t matter because the answer is yes. TV show you love with a passion? Breaking Bad, GOT Do you think you learned anything from the worst night of your life? Thankfully, I can’t pinpoint which night this would be.
Perfect age to get married? Not before 25 I’d say.
Is it safe to say you own over 20 pairs of shoes? No. Name a career path that women are known for taking. No. Favorite type of cookie? Jungkookie ;P but yeah chocolate peanut butter. A quality you look for in choosing a significant other? Just one? Silliness. What would I find if I looked in your pocket? No pockets. What was your first word? dada. A musical instrument you wouldn’t mind learning how to play? Guitar or drums. Last time you went to 7-eleven? No idea. I’ve probably been to one a max of 2 times in my whole life. A fast food restaurant that you hate with a passion? None? Does everyone in your family have a job? No. Going anywhere this weekend? Nah. Is your room ever clean? Most likely not. What does it mean when youre being quiet? If I’m in a group of 4 or more people I’m either listening, disagreeing, or feeling anxious. Last person you had a face to face conversation with? Some dude at CVS. Wheres your phone? Next to me. Do you know the difference between your and you’re? Yeah, English is a thing I know. How late did you stay up last night? 3:30am ish. Anyone you’re ready to kill? Nah. Do you need to get a tan? I don’t need to. What do you want? So many things. But right now I just want to pee. Favorite TV show as a kid? Hey Arnold, Rugrats, Doug, Angry Beavers, etc.
Whats a show that you absolutely refuse to watch? The Big Bang Theory and Two Broke Girls. I’m (not) sorry but if you like those shows I don’t want to be your friend. How many times have you been in love? I feel like I’m in love with so many guys I don’t know haha. But as for IRL shit, just once. Go camping or go to a party? Party for sure. Do you remember how old you were when you started swearing? Nope. How many years older than you would you date someone? not more than 7. What was the last thing you pinky swore on? No idea. Would you consider yourself a nice person? At my core...no. But people who don’t know me very much would probably say yes. Are there a lot of mirrors in your house? I’d say an average amount. Has there ever been a serial killer in your house? ...I don’t like to insult survey makers, but you know how they say no question is a stupid question? This disproves that.
Do you know anyone who looks like Adam Sandler? No. True or false: Glee is annoying. True. Last thing you cooked? Pizza. Do you use slang often? I guess I use modern day slang a decent amount. Wear glasses? I do.
About how old was the last person that hit on you? Idk What color are your headphones? Pink. Would you make a good teacher? Why? No, I hate kids. Don’t you hate those commercials that try too hard? I really do. I wish I could have a career as a commercial critiquer hah. Is the fan on? The AC is. Any special reason why you’re taking this survey? I was in the mood to listen to music really loudly but also be semi productive and this is the best way I know how. What does the last text message you sent say? It was just something to my dad about a movie we’ll be watching tomorrow.
Your friend needs you to run to the store to get a pregnancy test. Do you? Probably not because she can do that herself. I’d go WITH her though. Do you log out on facebook when you leave the site? No FB. What color are your underwear? Black. How short are your nails? None of them protrude past my fingertips...so short. Do you like the opposite sex to be dominant or you the one in control? It’s give and take in certain areas. Favorite holiday? Xmas. If I asked you to point to Ohio on a map of the US do you think you could? I’m from a neighboring state, so most definitely. Youre locked in a room with spiders. Do you have an issue? Obviously I don’t want to be locked in a room with spiders. Of course I have an issue. Do you wear your most expensive item of clothing often? No. Do you eat a lot of food? Yep.
Have your parents ever tried to control your relationship? No. Have you ever had to give someone directions before? I’ve tried to...but I’m shit at it lol. Speaking of which, are you good at understanding driving directions? I can follow a GPS... How many people do you text daily? 1 or 2. Do you play any instruments? Which instruments do you play? No. Is there anyone who you call by their last name? No. What did you do on your last birthday? I went to AC with my best friend. Which of the Seven Deadly Sins do you commit the most? Sloth. Has anyone ever told you that you’re incapable of whispering? No. What is your least favorite subject in school? It was math. Have you ever been involved in a custody battle before? Nope. Do you know a couple who constantly sucks on each other’s face? No. When was the last time you watched a YouTube video? Today. Have you ever babysat a newborn baby before? No.
When was the last time you held someone’s hand? Too long ago. How many meals have you eaten today, so far? 2, but I’ll be eating another soon. Do you think it’s stupid for people to call others “hot?” No? Do you personally think Wikipedia is a reliable source? Not 100%, no. Have you ever shopped at Wet Seal before? Did you like it? I’ve been in a number of times, never bought anything. Do you care about spending money if it’s someone else’s money? I feel a little weird, but if they say it’s okay, I’m fine with it. What is your favorite Disney movie of all time? 101 Dalmatians. When you were a child, did you ever want to become a wizard/witch? No. Would you rather have hardwood floors or carpet? Carpet unless it’s the kitchen or bathroom. Who was the last person you yelled at? Why? I raise my voice jokingly at people a lot. But to yell at someone out of actual anger? It’s been YEARS. As a kid, did you ever go to camp? No. Have you ever made out in a movie theater before? Yes. Are you currently trying to learn to play any instrument? No. When was the last time you went somewhere you thought was haunted? I don’t believe in ghosts. Who was the last person to compliment you? My sister. How old were you when you got to go on your first date? I was 14, but that was just the first opportunity. I never had any dating rules. Would you call your parents over-protective or under-protective? Under. Did your parents ever let you play in the pits of those multicolored balls? Of course. Have any of your siblings ever had a crush on your significant other? No. Do you still watch cartoons on television? Yes. What do you usually order at Taco Bell, if you go there? A beefy 5 layer burrito. Or a soft shell taco with no lettuce. Is there anyone currently annoying you? I’m good. Have you ever felt like someone was following you? Only once.
Do you like short or long surveys the best? Medium. This one is too long but I’m trying to hang in there. Have you ever bought fake money and tried to make it pass for real? No. I’m yet again questioning the survey makers IQ. Are your siblings nice the majority of the time? Yes. Do you freak out when a thunderstorm comes along? Nope. I like them unless I have to drive in them. How often do you shower? Every other day. Have you ever had to sell something for a school fundraiser? No. How many sodas do you usually drink in one day? 2. Have you ever met someone who was completely weird all-around? No. Do you ever watch any soap operas? Nah. Have you ever met someone who was mean to everyone? Not everyone, but was just not nice in general. Do you think long surveys are boring or entertaining? This one is certainly trying my patience. What color is your significant other’s hair? Single. Have you ever applied for a job at Walmart before? I have. Would you ever become a foster parent? I don’t like kids, and I would just end up adopting every animal lol. Are you ashamed of anyone in your family? No. When you get married, will you convert your last name? Idk. I’d prefer we combine our last names into a cool hybrid of our last names. Are your parents divorced, married or separated? Separated. Has someone ever left a relationship with you for someone else? No. What’s the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced? Losing my childhood dog. Or the very first heartbreak. When was the last time you went shoe shopping? Pft, forever ago. When was the last time you cried? For what reason? I cried today while watching The Help. That movie always makes me cry. Ugh, it’s so good. What is your favorite shop to go to at the mall? Spencers lol. Have you ever been raped before? Can you imagine being so insensitive as to ask this question? Would you ever consider becoming a marine biologist? No. Did you carry a lunchbox as a child? I did. What is your favorite ‘sweet’ to eat? Chocolate. Are you someone who usually eats when you’re bored? yup. Have you ever eaten your way through a breakup? Nope. Who was the last person you texted? My sisters. Do you usually buy popcorn when you eat at the movie theater? If I’m going to buy anything at the movie theater, it’s the popcorn. It’s so good! Did you sleep alone or with someone last night? Alone. Just as I prefer. What kind of dressing do you eat on your salad, if any? I don’t eat salad. Are you someone who constantly likes to wear hats? Lol no. Have you ever seen a Lifetime movie that relates to your life? I’m going to say no. Is it your summer vacation right now? Summer is happening. Do you like traveling? I do. What color are the walls of the room you’re in right now? Some off-shade of white.
Do you go to church regularly? Atheist. Who’s your best friend? She knows. Are you determined? No, half of my problems would be solved if I was.
Are you always looking for/in a relationship, or do you like being single? I’m happy with whatever comes my way. Ever had your heart broken? Yes. Even broken someone else’s heart? Yes. Are you confident? No. When’s the last time you smiled? Less than an hr ago. Are you tan? No.
Any big plans for today/tonight? Nah, just gonna eat some pizza and sleep. What’s the background on your computer? Flowers. I’ve been meaning to find something new since I’m sick of this one. Easier said than done. Do you have days where you just want to listen to sad songs? No. I really don’t like sad songs. I can appreciate them. But I won’t choose sad music over happy/upbeat music.
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Recipe: Hummus 3 Ways
When I was younger, I couldn’t understand everyone’s love of hummus. To me, it was unappealing- a thick, sour paste that emerged from a can or tub, cold. It wasn’t until university when I lived down the street from the Hummus Place (RIP), an Israeli-owned restaurant, that I got it. They served their hummus warm, full of tahini, with optional toppings.
Does that mean hummus is an Israeli dish in origin? Most evidence points to no (and I’ll get to that in a second), but what that experience showed me is that something got lost in hummus’ translation to “American.” Even in Turkey, the best hummus is found in areas that border Arab countries (or in Arab-owned restaurants).
Like most Middle Eastern and Mediterranean food, most of us like to claim this one as our own. Some food for thought. The word hummus means chickpea in Arabic. The exact name of the dish in Arabic is hummus bin tahini (chickpeas with tahini). I have found the argument that Plato and Socrates mentioned hummus in their writings. Even though hummus has a strong association with Greek food in the US, I’ve read enough travel anecdotes about not being able to find the dip in the country itself to be suspicious of any claims (also it seems the Greek word for hummus is...hummus).
The most widely accepted theory seems to be that hummus originated in Egypt, as it is referenced as early as the 13th century, but that recipe did not contain more than beans or tahini. Chickpeas have been eaten in the Middle East for 10,000 years and tahini for 4,500. Garlic was available to them, but lemons didn’t arrive for a little bit. Basically, we know two things:
This dish is OLD.
It’s delicious.
I think you’re probably ready for a recipe now…
Hummus is incredibly easy to make. The topping options I’ve given are also incredibly simple. The caveat? This takes time to make. A lot of that time is sitting around waiting for things to soak, marinate, or cook, but it’s still time. It will be hard to go back to store bought hummus after this, though, and you won’t mind the pre-planning.
A note: I love legumes. They don't love me (And now everyone I know-and don’t know-knows it!). This hummus is specially designed to be as easy to digest as possible.
The seasonings in this recipe are more of a guide. If you like your hummus more garlicky, add more. More lemony? No problem! You can even add some lemon zest! Thinner, thicker? That's up to you, baby.
Ingredients:
Chickpeas (garbanzos), 1 cup, dry*
Reserved cooking water, 1/3-1/2 cup*
Tahini, 1/4 cup
Olive oil, 1-2 tablespoons
Lemons, 1-2
Garlic, 3-5 cloves
Salt, 1 teaspoon (or more to taste)
Turmeric root (optional)
* I recommend cooking your own chickpeas. I truly do. But, if you absolutely can't, you need about three cups canned. Warm them, and their water, on the stove, before making hummus.
* Save whatever cooking water you don't use. Aquafaba is vegan gold!
1. Rinse your chickpeas and soak them for 24 hours. This shortens cooking time and helps with digestion. Change out the water at least once.
2. Drain and rinse your chickpeas.
3. I add a piece of (peeled) fresh turmeric root to 'peas while they cook. It's optional and you could also add turmeric powder. Again, this is to aid digestion.
4. Cover the 'peas with water and cook 'til mushy. This will give your hummus the smooth consistency you desire AND, surprise, surprise aids digestion.
5. Drain your chickpeas, but reserve the water.
6. Here's the fun part: removing the skin off all those golden suckers. I try to work quickly so that my 'peas and cooking liquid are still warm by the time I get to hummus assembly. It may seem tedious, but this step will give your hummus that silky smooth texture you're craving (and help you avoid tummy cramps).
7. Now, the order in which you do things next depends on the size of your food processor. If you have a big one, you can toss in:
the 'peas,
turmeric (if you used fresh root),
1/3 cup of the cooking water,
the tahini, one tablespoon of olive oil,
juice of one lemon,
three cloves of garlic,
and salt.
Blend. Taste it and adjust if necessary.
If you have a small processor, like I did, you'll need to add things step by step, which is fine, too!
8. That’s it! One whole day later...you’re done! You can serve your hummus like this...
or try one (or all) of the toppings below:
Toasted pine nuts:
Popular in the West Bank, Palestine.
Please take a moment to Google the politicization of pine trees in Palestine. The recipe can wait.
Instructions:
Toast pine nuts in a skillet (dry or not) until golden and sprinkle over hummus. Drizzle with olive oil.
Eggplant Pastirma:
Pastirma (or basturma) is a cured meat, which is popular throughout the Middle East into Eastern Europe. It’s believed to either have been invented in Armenia or by Central Asian nomadic Turks. Pastirma is a variation on the Turkish word bastrima, which means to press, as pressing the meat is an important part of the original recipe. Think of my version of a spin on eggplant bacon.
Pastirma is a popular hummus topping in Turkey. It’s often fried in butter or olive oil and poured on top.
Ingredients:
Eggplant, 1 large
Wet:
Date syrup, 1 tablespoon
Soy Sauce (or Tamari), 1 tablespoon
Liquid Smoke, 1 teaspoon
Garlic, 2 cloves
Dry:
Onion powder, ½ teaspoon
Garlic powder, ½ teaspoon
Allspice, ½ teaspoon
Smoked paprika, 1 teaspoon
Chili powder, 1 teaspoon (I used aji amarillo; cayenne would do nicely)
Fenugreek, 1 teaspoon
Cumin seed, 1 teaspoon
Black pepper, ¼ teaspoon (or more, to taste)
Salt, ¼ teaspoon (or more, to taste)
1. Slice your eggplant into bacon-size strips
2. Mix your liquids, either in a bowl or plastic zip-top bag.
3. Mix your spices.
4. Add all ingredients to zip-top bag, roll tightly
5. Place zip-top bag inside another zip-top bag and close with two rubber bands.
6. Refrigerate 12 hours.
7. Place flat on parchment paper.
8. Set oven to 350 ° F (180 °C) and bake for 30 min
9. Lower heat to 300 °F (150 °C ) and check every 30 until desired crispiness. My Latest batch baked for 1.5 hours total.
10. Let cool. Eat as is or...
11. To serve on hummus, break into pieces and fry up with olive oil and sprinkle onto hummus. Drizzle with more olive oil, if you desire.
Duqqa
An Egyptian nut and spice blend.
I'm not sure that duqqa is ever traditionally served with hummus. But it makes a pretty delicious topping, so I'm taking my liberties…
The name duqqa comes from the Egyptian Arabic word “to crush/pound,” which you know, sans food processor...The nuts and seeds in this recipe vary recipe to recipe, person to person, or availability. Feel free to play around! Peanuts and mint are a popular choice in Egypt. Chickpeas could be a nice addition as well. Play around, see what you like.
Ingredients:
Almond, ¼ cup
Hazelnut, ½ cup
Pistachio, ¼ cup
Sesame, ¼ cup
Black sesame, 1 tbs
Cumin seed, ¼ cup
Coriander seed, ⅓ cup
Anise, 1 teaspoon
Salt, 1 teaspoon (or more, to taste)
Black pepper, 1 teaspoon
Aleppo pepper, 1 teaspoon
Za’atar (or Thyme), 1 teaspoon
1. Toast almonds and hazelnuts in the oven 350 (180) for 5-10 min. Let cool.
2. Toast sesame and pistachio in a skillet until sesame are golden. Let cool.
3. Take your whole spices and toast them in the skillet until fragrant. Let cool.
4. Coarsely chop hazelnut and almond in a food processor.
5. Add sesame, pistachio, and whole spices, and chop until fine.
6. Transfer to a bowl and add the other spices.
7. Duqqa is delicious mixed with olive oil and served with bread, a nice crust for veggies, tofu, seitan. I can eat it by the spoonful. Store it in the fridge or in an airtight container.
8. As a hummus topping, I've sprinkled a generous helping and drizzled with olive oil.
Enjoy. You’ve earned it.
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