Sweet & Savory

IMBB 11 - Mung Bean Mochi

Our internet connection at home is still in the process of being repaired, but we were not about to let that get in the way of participating in Is My Blog Burning 11. Cathy of my little kitchen hosts this month's theme of beans.

A couple weeks ago, J had roused me in the middle of the night by making lots of commotion while stomping around in the bedroom. Apparently, she'd been looking forward to participating in the next IMBB, but was stumped when she found out about the theme. She just could not think of anything she could make for this upcoming weblogging event, since she does not particularly like beans in general (with some rare exceptions). As recounted to me later, I then sat up in a dream-like state, turned to her, and said "My dear.. make mochi.." and then promptly fell back asleep.

And so it was decided.

Japanese mochi, filled with sweet bean paste, has been a weakness for J and I for quite some time now. Every time we are in Japantown for lunch, we'd inevitably stop by the manju shop on Jackson Street. When we first found this treasure trove of confectionary treats, we tried one of every shape, color, and texture. Nowadays, we just get one each of our favorite - smooth mochi with smooth white bean paste filling.

This would be our first attempt at making mochi ourselves, so we wanted quality recipes from which to start. The mung bean paste filling is adapted from a Chinese cookbook recipe, which J's mom graciously translated for us. The mochi itself is adapted from a recipe that a friend's mom has used in the past to make her own mochi famous among family circles.

Mung Bean Paste

• 1 cup dried mung beans, without peels
• 1½ to 2 cups water
• 100 g (or 1 medium) yellow yam, baked and peeled
• ½ cup sugar
• 1 tbsp butter
• a pinch of salt

The filling starts from dried mung beans, which I found in a conveniently peeled form in my local Asian grocery store. Wash them thoroughly to remove any residual peels. Combine the washed beans with 1½ cups of water in a medium saucepan, and simmer over medium heat, uncovered, stirring constantly. The beans should be cooked until they are soft enough to be mashed with a spoon. Add more water as necessary, but do not exceed 2 cups total or else the end result will be too wet.

Once the beans are soft, remove from heat, smash with a spoon until smooth. Mash the yellow yam and mix it with the bean paste. Incorporate the sugar into the bean paste, stirring to mix uniformly. You may have a different preference to the level of sweetness, so add additional sugar to taste. Finally, stir in the butter and salt.

At this point, the paste can be stored, refrigerated, in an airtight container, until ready to use.

Mochi

• 1 cup sweet rice flour
• 2/3 cup water
• ¼ cup sugar

Combine all the ingredients in a microwave-safe plastic container and mix vigorously until smooth. Microwave, with the lid on, but not totally sealed, for 30 seconds. Stir the mixture until it is smooth. Return the container to the microwave and heat for another 30 seconds. Again, stir until smooth. Repeat this heating, followed by stirring, for a total of 2½ minutes. The mochi should now feel smooth and sticky, yet springy and resilient. (If you didn't stir enough between heatings, you may end up instead having a lumpy mess!)

Liberally sprinkle your work surface and dust your hands with corn starch, to prevent sticking. While the mochi is still hot, scoop out a chunk with a spoon. Cover the remaining mochi, to keep it warm, while you do these next steps. Roll the mochi chunk between your hands to form a ¾-inch diameter ball. Flatten the ball like a pancake until it's about 1/8-inch thick. Spoon your reserved mung bean paste in the middle of the mochi "pancake". Bring the edges of the mochi to the center, wrapping the filling, and pinch to seal. Repeat with the remaining mochi in the container, reheating 10 seconds in the microwave if it becomes less malleable.

The finished product - mung bean mochi - is a bite-sized confectionary with an unassuming outer appearance wrapped around a sweet secret center.

Technology!

A and I haven't been posting lately for a simple reason. Well, -- we've been having technical difficulties. Our internet simply refuses to work. (Which explains why I'm doing this at work.) I, having almost no computer science knowledge, is sitting idly by while A is frantically rotating from being on the phone with Sonic, our internet provider, and SBC, the telephone company, and punching commands onto the DOS screen. Hopefully everything will be fixed soon and we will be on our merry way again.

But in the meantime...

I've entertained myself by:

1. making large and small cupcakes with meringue buttercream frosting
2. going to have dinner at Fringale
3. tea time at the Garden Court Restaurant in the Palace Hotel
4. making sauteed chicken cutlets with lemon-shallot sauce

So once the internet is up again, you will get to see exciting pictures and recounts of them. :)

Ode to Chocolate Sour Cherry Bread

chocolate sour cherry bread
fresh from the store
J took lots of big bites
then there was no more

A and I recently discovered the chocolate sour cherry bread from La Brea bakery and it was fabulous!! The bread itself is chocolatey with large chunks of chocolate liberally sprinkled throughout the loaf. A chocolate bread with chocolate chunks -- that's just TOO much I'd say (yes, there IS such a thing as too much chocolate) but it's not! And the tartness of the cherries was a nice complement to the sweet chocolate.

This sweet bread has been my breakfast treat for the last couple of mornings along with a steaming hot cup of jasmine tea. Delicious breakfast! A girl needs a special little somethin' before she goes out to face the cold and wet commute to work, wouldn't you say?

chocolate sour cherry bread
really fills my heart & head
whenever i smell its scent
i must admit i'm always bent
on finishing it to the very end
-- courtesy of A's creative juices in the wee hours of the morning

Mahi Teriyaki

Is diet and exercise a part of your new year's resolutions this year? Are you tempted to try a low-carb diet but are afraid to commit yourself to eating chicken breasts forever?! If you said "yes", have I got news for you! Low-carb dieting doesn't have to be about bland chicken breasts day in and day out!!

I've been there. Throughout college, I ate with poor regularity, and when I ate, I ate the wrong foods - pizza, junk food, mac 'n cheese. If only I'd increased my exercise levels with my consumption levels.. maybe I could have kept my lean high school figure (who am I really kidding?).

I exercised on and off and tried various diets for a couple years afterwards, but I really got serious about slimming down when I got J's permission to walk the aisle together with her. The diet that made the most difference turned out to be a low-carb (but not no-carb) diet. The pros were obvious - healthier weight and lifestyle, and better self-esteem. The cons.. well, there really was only one - the boring and bland chicken breasts that I had to eat in place of all the carbs I used to eat.

I began to experiment with different sources of protein and different ways to cook each one, in search of a dozen or so recipes that I could rotate and eat without getting bored or sick of them. One of my favorites ended up being this dish inspired by Asian flavors.

Mahi Teriyaki

Serves 4

• 4 6- to 8- ounce mahi mahi fillets, about 3/4-inch thick
• 2 tbsp sake
• 2 tbsp mirin (Japanese sweet sake)
• 2 tbsp soy sauce
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 2 scallions, including green parts, finely chopped

Trim any strips of dark muscle off the mahi mahi fillets with a sharp paring knife. Combine the sake, mirin, and soy sauce in a small bowl.

Heat the oil in a sauté pan over high heat until it barely begins to smoke. Slide in the mahi mahi while moving the pan gently back and forth so the fish doesn't have a chance to stick. Don't worry if the mahi mahi is producing a lot of smoke - keep the heat on high. After 2 minutes (if you like mahi mahi raw in the center), turn the fish over and sauté on the other side for 2 minutes. Add a minute more on each side if you want the fish cooked all the way through.

When the mahi mahi is lightly browned on each side, transfer it to a plate and pat off any excess oil with a paper towel.

Pour out the burned oil and wipe the still-hot pan with a paper towel.

Let the pan cool for about 2 minutes - so that the liquids won't spatter - and pour in the sake mixture. Boil the mixture down over high heat until it's reduced by about half. Slide the mahi mahi back into the pan over high heat and let it sit in the boiling glaze for about 30 seconds. Turn the fish over and repeat for 30 seconds on the second side.

Slice the mahi mahi into strips and arrange them on plates (Japanese pottery looks great). Brush or spoon the remaining glaze left in the pan over each strip of tuna. Sprinkle on the scallions.

Nutrition Facts (per 6- to 8- oz fillet)

270 calories
8 g fat (1 g saturated fat)
2 g carbohydrate (0 g fiber, 1 g sugar)
40 g protein

Chocolate & Confiture Tart

It turned out that the quantity of Hazelnut Sweet Shortcrust Pastry I had made was a bit more than was needed for the 9" square fluted pan. So, I did what any person would do, I made a few extra tartlets. This allowed me to use some new fluted tartlet tins that I recently purchased. Although these did not have the convenience of lift-out bottoms, they did claim to be nonstick, so I gave them a try. As soon as I slid the crusts into the oven, I started making the filling.

The smell of chocolate wafted up to me as I stirred to melt it in heated heavy cream, forming a chocolatey lake. I used heavy cream in place of the single or pouring cream called for by the recipe only because that was what I had on hand. When I later combined the chocolate-cream with the seven whipped egg yolks, I realized just how rich this filling was going to be. Thick ropes of batter clung to my whisk as I pushed it through the now chocolatey swamp. The guilt began to build again, just as sure as the drool began to form in my mouth.

My conscience got the better of me and left me with no choice but to come up with a way to feel better about consuming this sinful dessert! By the time the crusts were done baking to a golden color, I had my plan formulated. Rummaging through the fridge, I found what I was looking for - a jar of black currant jam, still two-thirds full, leftover from some other culinary adventure. I spread a thin layer of this chunky confiture in the bottom of the square hazelnut shortcrust. I did the same with some adriatic fig spread and some strawberry jam to the two extra tartlet shortcrusts I had baked. Then, I ladled the chocolate filling into each crust, making sure to fill it up as high as possible, for I wouldn't want to any of the chocolate to go to waste!

Try as I might, I simply could not get all of the chocolate soup to fit in the crusts. Once again, I was not going to just throw it out. Grabbing a few ramekins, I filled them with the remaining filling and decided to make some impromptu pots de crèmes.

Finally, into the oven everything went. I kept testing the surface for firmness - a sign to indicate the filling had set properly, and found that my baking times were much longer than the original recipe - I think that it might be due to steam from the layer of confiture at beneath the chocolate. This also caused small craters to form in the surface of the chocolate as the bubbles of steam rose to the top and popped. This resulted in a slightly-less-than-perfect-looking chocolate tart, but it tasted great all the same! The one with the adriatic fig spread was the favorite for both J and myself. Its texture was just right - not as runny as the black currant jam and not as stiff as the strawberry. Next time, we'll be sure to make a larger tart with the fig.

The impromptu pots de crèmes also turned out well. I had to leave them in the oven, turned off, overnight to dry them out. The end result - a few spoonfuls of heaven in each ramekin. This, alongside a healthy slice of the tart, was more than satisfactory for any chocolate craving.

Chocolate & Confiture Tart
adapted from Modern Classics 2
by Donna Hay

Serves 10-12

• 1 quantity hazelnut sweet shortcrust pastry, rolled and baked
• 7 egg yolks
• 2 tablespoons caster (superfine) sugar
• 2-1/3 cups (18½ fl oz) heavy whipping cream
• 200 g (7 oz) bittersweet chocolate, chopped
• ½ cup confiture of choice

Set the oven temperature to 150°C (300°F). Place the egg yolks and sugar in a bowl and whisk until the sugar is dissolved. Place the cream in a saucepan over medium heat, bring just to the boil and remove from the heat. Pour the heated cream over the chopped chocolate and let sit for 1 minute, then stir until smooth. Pour the chocolate-cream over the egg yolk mixture and stir to combine.

Spread the confiture in a thin layer on the baked shortcrust shell. Pour the chocolate filling over the confiture and bake for 30-35 minutes or until just set. Cool completely before serving with thick (double) cream and berries if desired.

My First Tart Dough

My first forays into baking were with cookies, when I was still in junior high. Since then, I have not only improved on my cookie-baking skill, but I've also added biscotti, muffins, cakes, tortes, and even breads to my baking repertoire. One thing which I had yet to experiment with, was tarts. J has done many tarts already, both sweet and savory. But, this will have been my first.

I was in one of those gotta-have-chocolate moods, but I felt guilty for having just chocolate. Fortunately, when one's favorite ingredient is chocolate, one often finds certain combinations of chocolate with other ingredients to be irresistable as well (and not quite so guilt-laden). Take for example, hazelnuts. Those aromatic round filberts have always been such a perfect match for chocolate that I've sometimes wondered if the hazelnut and the cacao trees (if hazelnuts did indeed grow on trees) were maybe somehow related.

Feeling adventurous, I thumbed through some cookbooks to get an idea for the solution to my craving. I finally stopped on page one hundred and sixty-nine of Donna Hay's Modern Classics 2 and feasted my eyes on the perfect-looking chocolate tart displayed in the upper-right quarter of that page. The recipe called for "1 quantity hazelnut sweet shortcrust pastry (page 157)". Perfect!

I turned to said page and promptly began my preparations for the tart dough, despite my previously stated lack of experience with tarts and the resulting anxiety. The recipe called for the addition of half a cup of hazelnut meal to a standard recipe of sweet shortcrust pastry, so I set to grinding some roasted hazelnuts in the food processor. In my enthusiasm, I overestimated half a cup and made about double that quantity of ground hazelnuts. As such, I ended up modifying Donna's original recipe due to my overzealousness (I didn't think it should be considered a mistake, since there is never such a thing as too much hazelnut, in my opinion). Plus, the end result turned out just fine.

So, here is my version of Hazelnut Sweet Shortcrust Pastry. I decided to include less flour to compensate for the addition of extra ground hazelnuts, which really made the whole crust that much more a hazelnut crust than a regular shortcrust with hazelnuts.

Hazelnut Sweet Shortcrust Pastry
adapted from Modern Classics 2
by Donna Hay

• 1 cup roasted, peeled, and ground hazelnuts
• 1½ cups plain (all-purpose) flour
• 3 tablespoons caster (superfine) sugar
• 150 g (5 oz) cold butter, chopped
• 3 tablespoons iced water

Process the ground hazelnuts, flour, sugar and butter in a food processor until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. While the motor is running, add the iced water in a slow trickle to form a smooth dough and process until just combined. Knead the dough lightly, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or overnight.

If chilled overnight, be sure to give the dough about 20 minutes to warm up before trying to use the dough the next day (speaking from personal experience).

Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F). Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface until ¼ inch thick. Place in a 9" square fluted tart tin with a removable bottom. Line the tart dough with parchment paper and fill with pie weights and/or uncooked rice. Bake for 10 minutes, remove the weights/rice and bake for another 10 minutes or until the pastry is golden.

Fill as desired and bake as directed.

Check back tomorrow - when I finish baking my chocolate tart!

SF Dine About Town: Part I-B

This is a continuation on A's rather thorough introduction to our first SF Dine About Town experience, at the Ana Mandara.

The decor was lush, intimate, and sensual. Definitely a place to impress your date or hold little dinner parties. As the tables were situated very close to each other, A and I were privy to some sketchy alcohol-induced conversations. [Mental note to self: Never drink so much wine that you embarrass yourself by annoucing tidbits about your personal life and/or parts.]

I'm afraid I wasn't as impressed with the cuisine at Ana Mandara as A was. One of the things I like to check out at new restaurants is their fruity cocktails. Remembering my previously eavesdropped conversation from the next table, I limited myself to just one cocktail - the Ana Mandara signature cocktail. The cocktail was a soft yellow with swirls of tiny mint bits and one large random piece of orange peel. It tasted of orange (which I guess would explain the reasoning behind the floating orange peel) and mint seltzer water with very slight traces of alcohol. The menu said it contained lemongrass. But aside from the lemongrass shred turned impromptu swizzle stick, I could detect no lemongrass.

For my first course on the prix fixe menu, I picked the dungeoness crab sesame noodles. I'm not sure what the ingredients were but the flavor of the sauce was just too overwhelming and the noodles were undercooked. Different people have different preferences on how salty their food should be and how soft the noodle should. I guess this dish just wasn't for me.

For my second course, I had the "seared Mekong basa with scallion flowers and spicy lemon sauce". I was particularly excited as the waiter had highly recommended it (THREE times to the another table next to us), saying it was their signature dish. The Mekong basa turned out to be like lightly breaded cod in its firmness and texture. It came served on top of lightly sautéed tiny pea shoots with a pool of lemony fish sauce speckled with chili. I wasn't particularly inspired by it. It reminded me a little of lemon chicken, except replace the chicken with fish.

Lastly, the MOST exciting course of all. The dessert course!! I choose the pot de crème with vietnamese coffee. It came with a dallop of whipped cream dusted with cocoa powder and with a triangle sesame wafer stuck on top. This was definitely the highlight of the meal. It was creamy, light, and had a nice coffee flavor.

In all, the dishes I had at Ana Mandara were disappointing. I did get to sneak some bites off of A's plates and they were definitely better. So perhaps I picked the wrong dishes or it was an off day for them. Hearing and reading all the hype from friends and reviews makes me feel like I should go back and give it another try. Hm... Maybe I will, but at a much later time when I can start fresh again.

SF Dine About Town: Part I-A

After hearing nothing but laudatory comments about Dine About Town over the past two or three years, we were not about to let another year of the program pass us by. So this year, the countdown to the new year was also a countdown to a month of feasting. Since the "world class dining" deal - $21.95 for 3-course lunch and $31.95 for 3-course dinner - is only valid for the month of January, we spent last week narrowing down the over one hundred available places to feed down to four that we felt caused us to drool the most with their posted menus.

For our first Dine About Town experience, we went to Ana Mandara, situated at the edge of the bay, in Ghirardelli Square.

Decorated in the style of French Vietnamese colonial, the interior was breathtaking. Unfortunately, the low-light setting did not present the best conditions for photography. The seemingly-authentic facade of traditional architecture and the simple elegance of their furniture remind us of the lost beauty of that bygone era. Couple that with the chic modern styling of their upstairs lounge and you get a feel for the intimate social atmosphere. Diffused red-orange lighting, natural wood and rattan-woven chairs, and familial portraits adorning the walls were all details which served to complete the romantic ambiance.

Shortly after being seated, we ordered three courses each. J stuck with the prix fixe menu while I simply could not resist some of the regular dinner fare.

My first course was the Sonoma Duck Sausage with Foie Gras, Pinenuts, and Spicy Ginger Sauce. The exquisitely-seasoned melange of ground duck, foie gras, and pinenuts was wrapped in what looked like roasted seaweed sheets, and then pan-fried, such that the juices flowed out only when I bit into these sausage-shaped packages. Savory all by itself, the flavor of these duck "sausages" were enhanced by the tangy-spicy ginger sauce and accompanying pickled julienned carrot and daikon. A sprinkling of roughly-chopped peanuts completed the arrangement of this dish.

My second course - Grilled Rack of Lamb, with Vietnamese Cinnamon-Star Anise Rub and Spicy Tamarind Sauce - tasted as good as it sounds. Cooked to medium well and showing just a touch of pink in the center, the lamb was tender and juicy. This was served atop a bed of raw pea sprouts decorated with fried garlic chips. I was pleasantly surprised by the tangy-salty flavor of the normally-dull pea sprouts and surmised that they may have been wearing a light sauce combining fish and soy sauces and sugar in some secret proportion. There was more than met the eye to this dish, for when I was close to finishing my delightful pea sprout salad, I was greeted with what looked like a potato croquette, hidden beneath and peeking out coyly. I couldn't detemine the exact composition of said croquette, but the mingled flavors spoke of sweet onion, potato, and Japanese yam.

Rounding out the meal, I ordered the Roasted Banana Boat, with Caramel-Walnut Sauce and Vanilla Bean Ice Cream. This was a new interpretation on the typical fried banana, served à la mode, that seems to dominate the dessert menu of every southeast asian restaurant in the area. The banana was roasted peel-on, then carefully opened lengthwise and set in a pool of caramel sauce replete with chopped walnuts. The walnuts' crunch played a great duet with the soft warmth of the gooey banana. Served with a scoop of smooth vanilla bean ice cream, this rich flavor combination was the perfect way to end my dinner.

Reach Out & Help Someone

This is suppose to be a food blog, but I feel that the devastating impact and aftermath of the tsunami has left needs to be address. The sheer number of people effected by this natural disaster is just astronomical.

It was very gratifying to recieve an email today from the CEO addressed to the whole company stating that any contribution made by the employees [of the company I work at] to the International Federation of Red Cross or Red Cresent Societies will be matched dollar for dollar by the company. If your company has the same deal, please try to contribute. Any amount, no matter how big or small, goes towards helping someone very much in need. If your company doesn't have this deal, find out if they would be willing to start something similar.

Some relevant sites:

Tsunami Help
Chez Pim's post on Foundation for the People of Burma
Red Cross Donation

A Method to Free a Stubborn Bundt Cake

My 10" Calphalon bundt pan finally arrived earlier this week. Inspired by the arrival of this new plaything, I was determined to bake a fantastic marblized swirly bundt cake, one that would even rival anything Martha, the high priestess of all things domestic, could whip up. After much mixing, buttering, toasting, measuring, pouring, chopping, melting, egg-cracking, shifting, and beating, the lovely bundt cake was set to bake for 55min in the 350ºC oven. The tentalizing tendrils of aroma coming from the oven hinted at how great this cake would be.

When pulled from the oven, the cake appears slightly browned and firm to the touch. Very much like how a well-baked cake should look. The cake was left to cool on the kitchen counter as I went off to bed thinking how we'd would have something nice to go with the coffee in the morning.

[screen pans to the next morning]

AAaaHHHhhhh!!! The cake is STUCK to the pan!

It took many tries of whacking the pan against the floor (don't worry, we put paper-towels everywhere) before the cake and pan separated. The cake, for the most part, came out intact. However, the death-like grip of the pan took out a couple of chunks out of my cake. I am sad. Surely there must be some way to dislodge insufficiently buttered bundt cake from the pan! Once again, Martha, the high priestess of all things domestic, reigns supreme! *sigh*

In Which The Incredibly Shy Vegetable Makes An Appearance

Snake beans are so named because they are green, like string beans. But where their more popular relative has smooth skin, they themselves are covered with a wrinkled and leathery semblance similar to the skin of the namesake reptile. They are also sometimes called yard-long beans because they can grow to the length of a yard (that's a meter for the rest of the world out there). This vegetable, despite its mild taste much like string beans, rarely makes an appearance in any cuisine. In fact, I've only seen it ever used in Asian cooking, and in only one particular dish at that. So, when I picked up a gorgeous bunch of snake beans from my local farmers' market, I knew exactly what I was going to make.

The Food of China, by Deh-Ta Hsiung and Nina Simonds, contained an exemplary version of the dish in question, but I adapted it to fit what I had on hand. I substituted minced chicken breast where the recipe called for ground pork and finely chopped fresh shiitake mushrooms where the traditional dish had preserved mustard cabbage. Also, since I avoid deep fried foods unless absolutely necessary (as in the case of tempura), I opted to pan-fry the snake beans in a scant layer of oil as opposed to the quarter-wok-full dictated by the recipe.

The end result seemed authentic enough. The beans were tender and filled with flavor. The minced chicken gave a good balance to the saltiness of the sesame-soy sauce, where I think the pork would have caused an overwhelming saltiness. The unmistakable aroma of shiitake mushrooms rounded out the dish by helping bring all the flavors together.

Double-Cooked Yard-Long Beans
adapted from The Food of China
by Deh-Ta Hsiung and Nina Simonds

Serves 6

• 2 lbs yard-long (snake) beans
• 6 oz chicken breast, minced
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1½ tablespoons Shaoxing rice wine
• ½ teaspoon roasted sesame oil
• oil for pan-frying
• 5 tablespoons finely chopped fresh shiitake mushrooms
• 3 scallions, finely chopped
• 1½ teaspoons sugar

Diagonally cut the beans into 2 inch pieces. Lightly chop the minced chicken until it becomes slightly fluffy. Put the chicken in a bowl, add 1 teaspoon of the soy sauce, 1 teaspoon of the rice wine and the sesame oil and stir vigorously to combine.

Fill a wok with a scant layer of oil. Heat the oil until very hot. Add about a third of the beans, covering the wok with the lid as they are placed in the oil to prevent the oil from splashing. Cook for 3½ to 4 minutes, stirring constantly, until they are tender and golden brown at the edges. Remove with a wire strainer or slotted spoon and drain. Replace and reheat the oil and repeat with the remaining beans. Pour the oil from the wok, leaving 1 tablespoon.

Reheat the reserved oil over high heat until very hot, add the ground chicken and stir-fry until the color changes, mashing and chopping to seperate the pieces of chicken. Push the chicken to the side and add the shiitake mushrooms and scallions. Stir-fry over high heat for 15 seconds, or until fragrant. Add the beans with the remaining soy sauce and rice wine, sugar and 1 tablespoon water, and return the chicken to the center of the pan. Toss lightly to coat the beans with the sauce.

Just For Fun!!

One lazy Saturday afternoon , I was filled to the brim with whimsies. And my whimsies said it was a good day for cookies. So I baked cookies.

One hundred twenty four chocolate chip cookies to be exact. They were warm, soft, and filled with gooey chocolatey domed goodness when it first came out of the oven. There is something extra special about cookies that just came out of the oven. It invokes images and memories of childhood, X'mas , cute kitties/puppies and all things happy and all in the world is good again. But the cookies must eventually cool as such is the nature of warm cookies. So... We ate the no-longer-warmed-but-equally-nice chocolate chip cookies dunked into a nice BIG glass of frothy milk.

What a very nice Saturday afternoon.

Everyday Comfort Food

In early November of last year, J went on a business trip to Minnesota and left me to fend for myself in the kitchen. Cooking for one, I feel, is a lonely business, and so I found myself searching for some comfort food. Comfort food, by my definition, has to be thick, hearty, and soulful. What could fit the bill better than beans?

I could have gone with a beany minestrone soup (even J, who claims to detest beans with a vengeance, cannot resist a hearty minestrone) but instead I opted for a purer celebration of this succulent legume. The recipe, from Annie Somerville's cookbook Everyday Greens, was titled, simply,

Warm White Beans

Serves 4 to 6

• 1 cup cannellini beans, about 6 oz, sorted and soaked overnight
• 7 cups cold water
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 or 3 sprigs fresh marjoram or oregano
• 5 sprigs parsley
• 3 or 4 fresh sage leaves
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• ½ large yellow onion, diced, about 1 cup
• Salt and pepper
• ½ tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 celery rib, diced, about ½ cup
• 1 small carrot, peeled and diced, about ½ cup
• ½ cup white wine
• 1 teaspoon sherry vinegar

Drain and rinse the beans. Place them in a large saucepan with the water, bay leaf and herbs. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer, uncovered, until they're tender but still hold their shape, at least 1 hour.

While the beans are cooking, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a small skillet. Add the onions, ¼ teaspoon salt, and a pinch of pepper and cook over medium heat until the onions begin to soften, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic, celery, and carrots and cook until tender, about 4 minutes. Add the wine and cook until the pan is nearly dry, about 3 minutes.

Remove the bay leaf and herbs and add the vegetables, the remaining olive oil, ½ teaspoon salt, and a pinch of pepper. Cook over medium-low heat until the beans begin to break apart and the broth is slightly thickened, about 30 minutes. Add the vinegar and season to taste with salt and pepper just before serving.

Impromptu Feast

It was a dark and stormy afternoon. The sky lobbed a torrent of fat rain droplets ground-ward. I knew it was bad idea to go shopping at the Stanford Shopping Center without an umbrella. Did we bring an umbrella? ... No. *sigh*

Drenched and bedraggled and most importantly hungry, we lumbered to the very fortuitously located Andronico's. (How often do you find a frou-frou gourmet grocery chain in an ultra-chic shopping centre?)

The warmth and coziness were a definite welcome change to the outside cold and rain. The food selection wasn't bad either. They had over 20 different kinds of deli meat?!

Hubby picked a salami and prosciutto with provolone sandwich with minced pepperoncini in addition to the usual add-ins. I got us a cup of the Italian wedding soup which seemed to be composed of mini-meatballs, some sort of greens (collard?), onions, orzo, and an unknown medley of herbs. And most importantly, an "Adult" brownie. Apparently the San Francisco Chronicle rated it as the best store-bought brownies.

And THAT was our grocery trip turned impromptu feast!

New Beginnings

New Year's Eve has never been a night of tradition in my household. Until this year. This year is a year of many firsts. Not only is this the year that I married my soulmate, but this is also the first year that I got to decorate my own Christmas tree and the first year that I celebrated the coming of the new year. A and I are starting our own traditions this year ... in place of watching the ball drop over Times Square, we stared at a simmering hodge-podge of veggies and meats all thrown into the hotpot. The medley of colors and the blending of aromas satisfied the senses (and plus we are still trying to decide between cable vs. the dish, and unfortunately have no reception of any kind in the meantime).

In the hotpot for tonight's meal was napa cabbage alongside lightly-bitter mustard greens. We had an assortment of mushrooms as well - enoki, shiitake, button, and oyster. The other goodies were composed of: yasai tempura - a fish cake filled with green onions and various legumes; cuttlefish balls - a springy ball composed of julienned and minced cuttlefish, whose texture reminds me of rubber, not in its toughness, but in its elasticity; codfish balls - minced cod rolled into small meatball shapes; cuttlefish rolls - minced cuttlefish rolled into finger-length logs, then wrapped with a thin cuttlefish sheet; fish dumplings - much like the cuttlefish rolls but filled with minced pollack instead of cuttlefish, these rolls were then twisted to resemble the circular shape of tortellini; and yamasa kushi - lightly fried fish cake balls. To round out the meal, we also had thin slices of pork sukiyaki.

Hello You!

Welcome to Sweet & Savory, a place dedicated to all things related to food. Food we cook. Places to eat delicious (and not quite so delicious) food. Books that talk about food and are filled with gorgeous pictures of food. Gadgets that peel, poke, chop, mince, dice, grind, etc. -- what else but FOOD! Yup. This site will be a place where we will soley talk about food (except for moments, like at 2:30am, when J will post something non-food related).

This site was created and will be maintained and updated by J and A. We had hoped to update the site everyday but the reality will probably be more like once every week.

J is for Jenny, who is a chemical engineer depositing tungsten on chips (computer, not potato), and A is for Alan, who is an electrical engineer designing chips (again computer, not potato), in Silicon Valley. We love the idea of working in the food industry, but for now, those thoughts are just wishful daydreams. In the meantime, we like to think about food and look at food. J particularly likes to torture herself by looking at recipes and food pictures at work while she is hungry.

Feel free to look around. Let us know what you think. Any suggestions, tips, and comments are welcome.

But please do not spam as being spammed is rather unpleasant and absolutely unappreciated. :P