Cleaning up.

It's my least favourite part about having friends come over: the aftermath. I usually end up cooking a fair bit of food, and realised that I could make my life easier by skipping the middle-man. This will not work for everyone, and this will certainly not work for a full on formal meal, but it did work for having a few friends over, and eating a casual, potluck style dinner. 

What I usually end up doing when people are coming over is that I'll do the long cooking things in the morning, when I wake up, then start the rest of the dinner about an hour and a half before everyone shows up. Since produce doesn't take too terribly long to prepare, it's usually just a question of getting it all together, and making it happen, then seasoning everything in the last 15 minutes or so, including the slow cooking things, like beans. What do I mean?

Say for example that I'm making a split pea soup. I'll start cooking the split peas in a slow cooker early in the morning. I prefer for mine to be cooked till they fall apart, which is why I prefer to give it as long as it wants. Others may prefer less cooking, and can do it in an hour or so. Then, I go about my day, just clearing up the house, or relaxing. Let's say that everyone is set to arrive at 7 PM. Around 5:30 PM, I get up off my duff, and begin prepping the vegetables for cooking. I do my washing, chopping, and salad-y type stuff first. Then, I season up the beans, so they'll have time to simmer with the spices, until my guests arrive. Then, I do all the vegetable cooking itself, which will take me from around 6:20 - 7:00, give or take. Then everyone arrives, I bring out the food and the eating stuff (plates, spoons, forks, bla bla bla), and set out everything on the table. Everyone takes what they want, and eats until she or he is full.

For something sweet, if everyone has room, I'll usually slice up some fruit (pears, apples, whatever), and serve it up. Usually people are too full for anything more by this point, so I often never reach this point. 

Then, when everyone leaves, I put everything away into the boxes I have to get them in the fridge or freezer. Then, I have to do the cooking dishes. They're often too large to efficiently go in my dish washer, and by now, the food has set in, because the hot food has been cooling in that pot this whole time. Meanwhile, the dinner dishes are still sitting there. By then, I'll usually feel too tired to bother with anything, and just leave it for the next day. The next day, my counter is still a disaster area, and the dishes are staring at me ruefully.

Let's be honest. You still don't attack them. I generally heat some leftovers up in a plate or bowl, and watch TV for a bit, to recuperate from the previous night. Then, when I find that the entire sink is still full of dishes, and I have to wash my eating dish, I realise that it's time to get some work done. By now, it's probably well into the next afternoon (around 3 or 4 PM). I do all the dishes at once, and stuff the dishwasher with whatever I can get in there in terms of dinner plates, glasses, mugs, spoons, forks, knives, etc.

Around 7 PM or so, I'm about done, and now the counter top, the stove, and the kitchen floor need to be cleaned. By then, I'm pooped, so I go make Steve his dinner, and set a pot of rice on again. 

Around 10 PM that night, I'll be done with cleaning the counter, and that night's dinner dishes. Then comes sleep, and the next day, I'll usually finish off the floor and stove by around noon~ish.

All for a single dinner event.

There HAD to be a better way. This time, I used those oven safe pyrex dishes that can go directly in your fridge. I cooked everything I needed for Saturday's dinner on Friday. Then, I put the food away into the pyrex containers, and kept them in big enough portions for four people. Because I was immediately putting the food away, the cooking pots were very easy to clean, and that job was done in about thirty minutes or so. 

The next day, I just heated everything up in the oven, did some last-minute jobs. I had plenty of time to get the kitchen back in shape by the time my friends arrived. Everything was piping hot from the oven, and tasted great. If you have microwave safe plastic food storage containers, this would go even faster, because you'd just have to nuke everything for a couple of minutes to reheat it to the right temp to get on the table. Then, when dinner was done, everything was already in the storage containers, so I just put it back in the fridge, and dumped the dinner dishes in the dishwasher. It was so much less work. The next day, all I had to do was some final touches to the kitchen, and it was nice and clean again. :)

Had to make it happen, and fast.

My microwave is a rather nice one, and lets me set certain foods (like potatoes) to cook, based on the weight in ounces. I'm fairly certain that your microwaves (the ones with the fancy buttons) have the same feature, so I'd encourage you to read the manual, and figure out if such a thing is feasible.

So I was home yesterday, doing some cleaning, and catching up with myself, and I noticed that it was suddenly 6:30, by the time I cleared out the dishwasher. In a blind panic, I opened up the fridge to see what was in there.

1 cup of cooked mung beans (already seasoned, of course).

This is not good. Steve can easily pack that away in one sitting, and still be rather hungry. And this is where those time-saving devices really show their mettle. The first thing I did was to set some brown rice to cook in the rice cooker. That barely takes a couple of minutes, because the measuring is made brainlessly simple via the little measuring cup that came with the rice cooker, and the little lines marked on the inside, that tell you how much liquid to fill to.

Then, I scrubbed off four medium sized potatoes, and weighed them on the kitchen scale. 1 lb and 5 ounces, or 21 ounces. I threw them in the microwave, and set the weight to 21 ounces, and hit the start button. Then, out came a beet. The peeling and dicing of said beet barely took another couple of minutes or so. I had refrigerated my beans in a microwave safe container, so all I had to do was add the beets into the same dish as the beans. I also tipped in about 3/4 cup of leftover coconut milk I had (from some other recipe), and washed out the tin with hot water twice.

In that went as well. Finally, once the potatoes were baked, I switched out the potatoes for the casserole dish, and set the timer to 4 more minutes for the beans and beets. While that was going, I chopped up the beets, and let them wait for the beet/beans mixture to cook through. I wanted the beets cooked, but not mushy.

The whole lot came out, and in went the potatoes. I just let them sit in the dish, and microwaved for another minute, so everything cooks together. All in all, the whole thing only took around ten minutes, and the rice was well on its way to getting completed. Just minutes before he walked in, the rice cooker beeped its completion message. I quickly set a pot on the stove, and tipped in the beans/beets/potato stuff, and cranked the heat onto high heat. The whole thing came up to a boil, which is when I added some finely chopped up green thai bird chiles to the dish, and let it boil for a minute or so.

Steve walked in, saw the red soup, and smelled the freshly cooked rice, and was about to get himself a snack (because he thought it was going to take longer to cook), when I said, "Soup is ready, and rice is ready. Dig in." He looked infinitely relieved, and dug in heartily. While he was eating, I sliced up some pears that were nice and ripe, and arranged them on my block of Himalayan salt. It's this large slab of rock salt, with a pink colour and white marbling throughout. It lends just the slightest hint of salt to any dish. If you don't have such a slab, just the scantest tiniest sprinkle on sea salt will do the trick. This way, when he was done eating the fiery hot food, he could tame the tongue with the fresh, juicy, ripe pears.

If you stop for a minute and think about it, we barely use a fraction of the gadgets that we own, with a tiny fraction of their functions. I'm not one to condone cooking in a microwave exclusively, but there are times when you're in a hurry, and want something quick. The newer microwaves also have loads of nifty time and food saving features. That preset cooking time based on weight thing is ideal.

When the potatoes came out, they were fork tender to perfection, without being overcooked. The only reason I knew of the feature was because I read the instruction manual for the model, where it explained how to make sure the food you put in there gets cooked right. This goes double for my rice cooker, which has the lines for all different kinds of rice (plain white, brown, sushi, sweet, and no-rinse) listed on the inside. It just takes seconds to measure out the rice that I want, and add water up to the line on the pot. And every time the rice comes out of the pot, it's cooked to perfection.

If for no other reason than to get a good working knowledge of your appliances, get out those manuals, and read them (or at least skim them), so that when you are in a hurry, things don't go horribly wrong.

Concerto for Flute and Harp

These people managed to mimic the sounds of the flute and the harp by just using percussion instruments. I think they did a fantastic job. Definitely give it a listen if you've got a few minutes to spare.

EDIT: Here is the link for those catching this on other sites that don't show the embedded video. 

But one thing is not clear to me: the coconut dressing.
You process dried coconut flakes? And then mix it with curry leaves and other spices. I tried it and it gives me more like a chunky paste. I must of done something wrong there...
Could you explain it to me again?

Oh no! This email came from one of my dear listeners, Marie, who had asked me the questions about sandwiches (which, although I felt like I was out of my depth, I did my best to answer in this podcast episode). I think I might have mentioned a coconut dressing for some salad or another. It's one of my father's favourite ways to have any dense salad (like the ones with cabbage, carrots, tomatoes, onions, peppers, cucumbers, cilantro, and lots and lots of shredded coconut). I suggested a South Indian Coconut Chatni (not to be confused with North Indian fruit chutney, which in my mind is a disgusting way to ruin a perfectly good meal—who wants sweet with savoury?) which is a common accompaniment to all sorts of dishes, and completely forgot to specify that I meant to say fresh coconut.

As I mentioned in an old blog entry, my family always had fresh coconut, that my father would break open, and ferret out of the shell. The thought of having dried coconut never even entered my mind! I guess it's like those people who are fortunate enough to have herb gardens outside their houses: the thought of buying dried herbs seems ridiculous, when the fresh is sitting there in all its glory, right outside the door.

For the record, whenever I say "coconut" in any way, shape or form, assume that I mean fresh. The one concession I'll make is for tinned coconut milk, but that's mainly a convenience thing, rather than an ability thing. If I had the energy to break open a coconut, then grind it in the blender, then squeeze out the milk, then figure out what to do with the left over coconut grounds, I'd be doing it all the time. But quite frankly, coconut is expensive, and I'm not about to spring $1.25 on all that effort when a tin of coconut milk is about $0.89 for me. Thanks, but no thanks.

You can also find fresh grated coconut in frozen form at most Spanish supermarkets, or at Asian supermarkets. The best part about these is that the black, tough skin has already been removed, thus saving you a step in deliciousness. Just separate out the frozen block of coconut into 2 inch squares (be it with a hammer and chisel, or a mallet, or whatever it takes), and freeze them separately. Then, when you want coconut, just thaw out exactly what you need, because thawed coconut goes bad quickly.

I apologised profusely to Marie, and I hope she'll forgive me, and try again with fresh grated coconut that's been frozen. I also apologise to anyone else who tried the recipe and ended up with a mass of WTF.

Beans and rice become finger food ...

... to peoples outside of India. In India, of course, we eat with our fingers, rather than spoons and forks, and we relish the task of scooping up the perfect quantities of rice, lentils, and pickles in one mouthful, to be followed by a swift bite of fresh green chile (for heat), and a bit of lemony cold salad (usually, cucumber, tomato, and onion, in any combination or separately). Then, in goes a bit of dry cooked vegetable with a bit of rice. Then goes some stewed veg with the rice. And on and on it goes, until the meal is finished, and the plate is clean, and all of the rice is finished. We do not waste rice. It's too important a part of our lives.

In the US and Europe, however, eating rice with one's fingers seems a bit out of place, and is difficult to do on the go. Enter hand-held beans and rice. This isn't quite a recipe, because I haven't really seen it before, but I had some leftover brown rice, and cooked brown lentils in the fridge. If you don't have cooked lentils, feel free to use a tin of black beans. It'll work just fine. However, I do caution you that my lentils are very well spiced, so if you're going to make this, make a point of adding extra spices, like cumin or coriander powder (or both!), a bit of cilantro or parsley, some grated ginger, some minced garlic, or whatever else you like. Because my lentils already had those spices in it, I didn't bother with adding them.

3 cups cooked brown rice
1 1/2 cups cooked beans, drained
spices of your choice
2 cloves minced garlic
Chopped green chiles, or chile flakes (optional)
1 TB oil, or spray of oil. Use vegetable oil. Olive oil would taste weird, I think.
Salt, to taste

Preheat your oven to 375ºF. Spread the oil on a baking sheet, and set the sheet on your counter. In a large bowl, dump in the rice. With a potato masher or wooden spoon or your hands, mash up the rice. It helps to have a good solid potato masher, because it will make short work of that mound of brown rice.

Drain the beans of their liquid, to the best of your ability. This works best when the beans are drained, because otherwise, the final product won't stay together so well. Mash the beans and rice together. Add in the spices of your choice, salt, the chiles, and the garlic. Mix it well with a spoon, the masher, or your hands.

Split the mass into balls about the size of your palms, and splat them down on the baking sheet. Don't worry about neatness. It's not going to be too terribly firm when you get started, but that's sort of the point. Bake at 375ºF for about 15 minutes. Remove the baking tray from the oven, and flip the rice balls over with a spatula. Feel free to smash them down slightly, to make them thinner, if you'd like. This will give a more crispy texture to the outside. Continue baking for another 15 minutes. By now, you should hear the rice sizzling nicely. This is a good thing.

Finally, if you want to, set the baking sheet under the broiler for a couple of minutes to get the tops browned nicely. It took about 2 minutes under my broiler.

These are excellent on their own, or as a vehicle for your favourite salad to go on top. I used the recipe for Beet Salad of Doom that I came up with a few days ago. The good part is that I managed to clear out my leftovers. The bad part is that my husband loved it so much that I don't have any more cooked brown rice or beet salad. Boo.

This is also an excellent way to sneak in some grated vegetables of your choice. Carrots would be excellent, as would cabbage. I wouldn't do potatoes, because I'd be nervous that they wouldn't cook up completely, but feel free to experiment. If the rice balls are too firm when you are forming them, add a bit of the bean liquid, or a bit of water. You want them to form a shape, but only a loose shape in the beginning. The extra liquid makes the rice more tender as it bakes.

The best part about this is that you can have beans and rice as a snack, and eat it with your fingers with no problem at all. They'd also make really cute little nibbles for a party, wherein you don't use full on cutlery, and just have people milling about, having bites of every little thing.

Luncheon on Saturday

My friend Emily came over on Saturday to have lunch with us at our apartment. The meal barely took around twenty minutes to put together, because I had already soaked and boiled chickpeas the day before. I find that if I make my own cooked chickpeas, the final cost analysis leaves me much more comfortable than when I spend on tinned chickpeas from the store. When I looked around for a sale, I finally found some chickpeas at the store for $1.25/lb at the Indian store in Queens. That will easily double in volume when soaked, and increase still a bit more when boiled.

For one pound of cooked chickpeas, I'd pay about $0.50/lb. However, the weight of those tinned beans does include water, meaning that I'm paying a premium price for water. I don't know about y'all, but paying that sort of money for water is unacceptable. The point is that while I do keep some tinned beans in the pantry for emergencies, I use them only for emergencies, and don't count on them when I am looking for something to eat. This doesn't mean that I get annoyed when having to use them: I did buy them for a reason, after all!

At any rate, we did the dry roasted garbanzos from the cookbook, and one of the versions of aubergine. Emily had brought over some of those long Japanese ones which were slender and seemingly seedless (say that five times fast!), and ever so tender. We just sliced them up thickly, and those cooked up in no time flat.

And of course, I had a pot of brown rice already made by the time my friend came over, so that we could get down to the business of eating, as soon as possible! Everything was lovely, but more than that, the company was quite a lot of fun. We've decided to make this a weekly thing. Just by sheer dumb luck, I'd happened to call my mother today, and tell her of all the fun we had together, when my mother tells me that my sister was having friends over on Monday night too. They also live in a tiny apartment, but it's in Arizona, not New York (boo).

She spent to the tune of two or three hours in prepping ingredients, cooking, and then cleaning up the aftermath of the mess in the kitchen before everyone arrived. Once we discussed how I did this, she figured it would be quite sensible to follow my format, of having the main dish there at the place where everyone convenes for the feast, but have each guest bring a vegetable, and do the prep and cooking together. If the person doesn't have a lot of money, this is perfectly ideal, because now, you have a chance to get a huge meal with an investment of only a couple of dollars for whatever it is you're buying. Even if you buy expensive, or fancy ingredients, you're only buying around a pound or two, and that's enough to share with everyone else. This is just for one meal, remember. Leftovers may happen, but you should count on just that one meal.

So although we did buy those aubergines earlier in the week in Queens, for about $0.79/lb, even at the regular price of $3/lb, someone could afford to buy it, as it's only $3. When you do the potluck style where everyone cooks at home, it becomes a burden, because it's not just that one ingredient they're buying, but rather, dipping into their own stores of weekly groceries to make this happen. How easy is it to pop into a grocery store on the way to your friend's house, and grab a couple heads of broccoli, or a pound of peppers, or a tin of cooked beans (a larger one, please) if you're in a hurry or uncooked lentils if you're not, or even some salad material (lettuce, tomato, scallions, cucumber, and a little but of nuts)? It doesn't take but a minute to run in and run out, and then head over.

Once everyone arrives, you have the major cooking (rice, dry beans that're now soaked and boiled, etc.) taken care of, and it's just a question of putting together the quicker cooking foods, like the fresh produce. If you're not looking towards potatoes, or other slow cooking heavy root veggies, you can have a very easy time of chopping and cooking together.

That being said, if you're in a small apartment, and have a tiny kitchen, like I do, feel free to branch out to the dining room table, coffee table, or any other spare space you can see, with cutting boards and knives, to help with the prep work. This way, only the person who's essential to be in the kitchen need be in there, and the rest can help, while chatting on with a glass of juice or wine or water or fizzy drink, and still having a good time anyway. If you have kids who want to help too, but you're nervous about handling knives, let them do jobs that they can do without hurting themselves. After giving their hands a good washing (it's important to encourage your kids to follow good hygiene), let them rip up the dark leafy greens or remove the greens from the stems, or squish the avocado to make guacamole (it's a good thing if it's not uniform, because good guacamole has a bit of texture), or take the string part off the string beans, or help out with collecting the vegetable scraps for the compost bin as they show up. Get everyone involved, and it's so much more fun that way!

I'd suggest that if you try the same thing in your house (where others come over to cook with you), maybe try the following tips, to make it fun for everyone:

1. Prepare any long cooking ingredients before your guests arrive. That is, soak and boil beans the day before, get your water boiling for pasta and/or cook the rice about an hour before, and clear off some work space in your counter top. I have a tiny New York kitchen, and it makes me quite crazy to have anything on it, because otherwise, I have no workspace.

2. If you're like me, and you have very little kitchen space, feel free to branch out and use any available surface to seat a cutting board and a knife. If you know that you don't have knives and cutting boards, ask people to bring their own as well, or run down to your dollar store, and grab a few cheap cutting boards. That way, people just need to bring their favourite knife.

3. Don't worry about a specific plan in cooking the food. This isn't about the food. It's about having your friends come together for a fun time of working together to make a meal happen. If someone has an idea that sounds interesting, let them try it out. You may all learn something new! I was once at a party where people had never tried simply broiled tomatoes. I showed them how to do it, and it was like everyone was discovering tomatoes for the first time ever! (Just slice tomatoes into thick slices, and lay under the broiler, with a teensy bit of oil, for about five to eight minutes, checking on them every couple of minutes. Cook until little black spots form on the cut surface of the tomato. When they're out of the oven, lay on a basil leaf, and sprinkle on lime juice. Excellent stuff.)

4. Don't be afraid to taste something quick cooked, to get an idea of what it tastes like. If someone brings something that nobody has a foggy clue what it is (except the name), you can't go wrong with slicing off a bit, frying it up in a bit of oil on your stove, till the thing looks cooked. Go with a thin slice, so that it cooks quickly. Taste it, and see what works.

5. If you have people who do not drink, make sure to have on hand some sparkling cider, or seltzer water that's been flavoured with a bit of ginger juice (grate up fresh ginger, squeeze out the juice) and a twist of lime. This is meant to be a festive occasion for everyone.

6. If you're doing this weekly, skip the expensive ingredients, and stick with cheap stuff that everyone can afford. In fact, avoid serving alcohol every week, as it's expensive. Serve wine or beer or other things only occasionally. If it really is only once in a great while that everyone gets together, go nuts (responsibly, please)!

7. If there's an awkward lull in the conversation, don't be afraid to reminisce about memories of how everyone met, or something along those lines. I find that it gets everyone talking again in short order, and things pick up. If you do prefer there to be background noise, stick with music that can be enjoyed as background noise. You don't want it to drown out conversations!

The point is, all you need is one other friend to do this with, and a commitment to each other to make it work. If you'd like to alternate houses, that works too! For my friends who come over, they get an afternoon of fun and food and cooking together. For me, I get a good kick in the backside to keep my apartment relatively clean, so that when people do come over, it's just a quick clearing off of the kitchen, or hanging up a coat in the closet, rather than an elaborate cleaning all over again.

It also prevents me from falling into cooking ruts. There are times when I'll default to food that I've been making since I was a little kid, because I've made it so many thousands of times by now, that I can practically do it in my sleep (this includes any kind of bean or vegetable soup, and pasta). If I don't keep an eye on myself, I will stop exploring, for ease of preparation, rather than keeping my search up for new and interesting ways to do things. Everyone ends up with something that they wouldn't have had without the group.

Try it out some time, and let me know how it goes. And if you have any hints to share, feel free to comment, and let others see them as well!

Are we that funny?

I was doing a search on the iTunes store for podcasts to listen to, and I came across a few GLBT ones. It struck me, all of a sudden, that most of them were labelled "humour", rather than lifestyle. Why is this?

What is it about being gay that seems to draw us towards humour?

How can you tell good bread?

The sound. If you've watched Ratatouille, you'll know exactly what line I'm talking about. It's the one where Collette is schooling Linguine on the fundamentals of good cooking. If you haven't seen the film, let me explain. When looking for good bread, you don't go by the look, you go by the sound. Mind you, the bakery won't be too keen on you palming all the loaves, so I'm not saying that you do this in the store to all the loaves, but when you do come across a loaf from a bakery that people rave about, hold it up to your ear, and press on the crust with your hands.

It should crackle, and sound something like a cross between crumpling paper and the sizzle of a thick slice of bread on a nice hot skillet, when you fry it up for croutons. The bread should also sound hollow when thumped with your knuckles, and should spring back resiliently when you do give it a press. If the bread doesn't bounce back, you're dealing with bad bread.

Well, my friend Chuck picked up the Bread book, and has been loving it.

He tells us more on his blog.

The book is called Bread. With something that solid, you don't need more fancy titles. Like Chuck said:

I could tell that the generic stuff they offered was differing radically from what I was used to. They combine yeast & water with flour using a sponge, which I hadn't done before. It also asked for much longer rising times, longer cooking times, and higher temperatures, as well as other things, like sustaining steam in the oven to crisp the crust. Figuring that I might as well give it a shot, I went ahead, half afraid that I'd turn out a burnt loaf of bread right?

Negative, Roger Wilco. This bread is out of this world.

Couldn't have said it better myself. The point is that when you can see that you've been doing even the fundamentals incorrectly (all these years), you now know that there is a technique—a magic—to making the perfect bread. Get the book from your library, or snag it on the internet. Whatever you do, make bread happen.

I don't want to know what's going in. I want what's coming out.

I've had this major annoyance for a while, that when I'm on the phone, I want to hear what you're saying to me. To be honest, I'd sooner not be /on/ the phone to begin with, but there's a total of one or two people who I have to talk to on the phone regularly, because we're so physically far apart (best friend and my mother are two of those). So aside from face-to-face interaction and emails, the only time that I'll be listening to what you're saying is when you're doing it on the Internets.

1. Don't eat while you're recording. It's disgusting to hear the smacking of your lips, and the movements of your mouth. It also breaks up your flow of what you're trying to say. I don't mind if you need to get some liquid in you to keep the mouth lubricated (because one does tend to dry out), but much more than that is quite revolting.

2. --

No, that's about it. Don't eat when you're recording audio.

Thanks.

Beet salad of doom.

It's the first time I've eaten beets and enjoyed it.

3 lb beets
1 lb carrots
1/2 lb daikon or red radish
1/2 lb granny smith apples

Peel the beets with a peeler. Grate everything up, either in your food processor, or using a box grater.

Dressing:
Handful of raw soaked almonds
1 TB white miso (optional)
Glass of orange juice, reserved
1 TB lemon or lime juice
Handful of fresh green chiles, stems removed. Omit if you don't like heat.
Salt, to taste
1 TB Rice wine or apple cider vinegar
Knob of ginger

In a blender or food processor, combine the almonds, miso, lemon/lime juice, green chilis, ginger, and vinegar. Grind until the almonds and chiles are chopped up. Then, crank the blender or food processor on full speed, drizzling in the orange juice in a steady stream, until everything is the thickness you want for it to be. Remember that you want this to cling to the vegetables. Then, when it's like you want it, remove it from the blender, and add salt to taste.

Toss the vegetables together with the dressing, and let it marinate for at least 30 minutes. The beets will turn everything into a brilliant pink/red, and the flavours will meld together beautifully. You'll get a little sweetness from the orange juice, carrots, and the apples. You get some tartness from the apples and lemon juice. The ginger provides a lovely counterpoint to the hotness of the chiles and the sharpness of the daikon. It's a wonderful salad, even in the cold weather, because the flavours just marry so well together.

You could use peanut butter or any other nuts you have in place of almonds. All it'll do is change the flavour in interesting ways.

Other vegetables you can add (and grate):
Courgettes
Cabbage
Red onions
Scallions
Jicama
Chayote
Mango
Green papaya


If you decide to add some tomato, do so just before serving, so that the tomatoes don't leech out too much water, and make the salad into a mess. Feel free to roll this up into rice wrappers, and make spring rolls. The juicy dressing makes it so that you don't need a dipping sauce. Why not use it to stuff some Romaine lettuce leaves, and eat it like a taco? This would also be a stellar and interesting sushi filling.

If you are allergic to nuts, feel free to use coconut instead. If you don't have a blender or food processor, just do an emulsion with a bit of peanut butter or almond butter or whatever instead. If you don't like orange juice, try pineapple, or mango juice. You just need a little counterpoint to the heaviness of the salad, and the slight sweetness does the job.

In any case, I'm trying to get at the most important thing: There is no excuse not to make this salad. Go make it. If it got me to eat some beets, it's a miracle.

Oil Podcast

New Episode is up and in iTunes. However, for whatever reason, it's only showing up to people who hit the subscribe button, and as an older show. Weird. Either way, you can listen to me ramble on about oils. There's a LOT of information to cover, so I took a fair bit longer than the usual 20 - 30 minutes.

Oil

PDF Of the Chart

I got a recent email, asking me about the different sorts of oils out there.

I'm curious about what types of oil you like to cook/fry with. I typically stick with olive oil unless I'm baking something (other than bread). I haven't really tried any other types of oil and don't know what oil works best for what food, so I'm not really sure what to start with. Any recommendations would be greatly appreciated!!

I will have a podcast episode dedicated to this for sure, but until such point, I've made a little spread sheet that you can look at to give you a rough idea of where I stand on the different sorts of oils out there.

This is definitely not a comprehensive list, and it's not a substitute for my upcoming episode of the podcast, but I certainly hope that it'll tide you over until I do upload the new episode.

The difference between a cooking and a finishing oil is based on two things: resistance to heat, and price. For example, although coconut oil can technically take a lot of heat, it's expensive, so I personally wouldn't consider it to be a cooking oil. This is why I list it as a finishing oil, although I do put cooking as a possibility.

Why do I factor in cost? Because the more expensive oils should be used in such a manner that their full flavour is brought to the forefront, instead of being muddled by other factors. Every time you heat an oil, you change its chemical and flavour structure. Things break down, things interact with the ingredients in the cooking vessel and the vessel itself, and all sorts of things happen to the oil, so that it's no longer the same as before.

Just as I wouldn't dream of taking a perfectly ripe, juicy, succulent mango, and demolishing its delicate flavours and textures by cooking, I wouldn't dream of using a fine quality extra virgin olive oil and blasting it with a hit of heat. If it's a grocery store mango, on the other hand, whose origins are shady, and whose skin (and not flavour) is perfect, or in the case of an olive oil with equally shady background and "consistent" (how I loathe that word) oil all throughout (no sediment, and identical product form bottle to bottle), I wouldn't be bothered about using it for whatever.

If you're going to be spending that money in any case (as neither good mango nor good olive oil is cheap), you might as well get the best that you can afford, and enjoy the experience fully, rather than settling for a half-assed, bland, watered down version that isn't going to satisfy you. And then when you have the product which is the best that you can afford, you treat it in such a way so that you showcase the best of that product, and hide nothing. That beautiful mango, whose aroma wafts up from the skin to your nose, and fills your head with the sun-drenched, rain quenched soil in which it grew, should be served simply: sliced and peeled. MAYBE a tiny teeny touch of salt to bring out the flavours, but nothing more. You take your first bite, and the perfume envelops you in its warm embrace, and you are fulfilled.

It's the same with a good quality oil. You want to show off the fact that you have that oil in such a way that the flavour comes to the forefront. When I use olive oil, sesame oil, til oil, coconut oil, or any other fragrant and expensive oil, I use only the barest little amount, and in places where it'll shine. With the olive oil, I'll drizzle a tiny bit over fresh, sun-ripened tomato, liberally sprinkled with fresh basil. With sesame oil, I save it for when the summer cucumbers are crisp and cold, and loaded with flavour. I add a few drops to the thin slices of cucumber, and finish it off with a bit of rice wine vinegar. With the til oil, I add a few drops to the dosa that I'm frying, or use it for dressing up a bowl of steamy, fluffy rice. For coconut oil, that king of all oils, I use it on my skin and hair. If ever I use it in cooking, I add just a few scant drops to the boiled soups and stews (in each individual bowl) just before serving, so that the heady aroma can diffuse through the air.

In the end, I am able to save those oils for a much longer time than if I were to use them in cooking. Moreover, a tiny amount goes a long way, meaning that I won't have to use quite as much oil as most recipes call for, thereby reducing the total fat intake in general.

I hope that this gives you some insight into oil, and gives you some ideas as to what to do with it!

"I'm broke" food.

Podcast Episode for this entry.

I've been watching the economy crash and burn. Then, I've been watching the people around me try to cope with said crash and burn, by doing incredibly stupid things when it comes to feeding themselves.

"Buy ramen."

Are you shitting me? If you want a grain that's cheap, filling, and easy to make, get rice. They're about three oz each package, and loaded with salt, fat, and white flour. None of these things will actually fill you up. In fact, because the white flour is a simple carbohydrate, you stand the risk of those sugar highs and lows that you'd get from chugging sugar.

Get. Rice. At my local store, the ramen runs about 6/$1. That means that 3 x 6 = 18 oz, which ends up being a bit more than a pound. If I'm paying for brown rice in the small packages (1 lb or less), the final cost ends up being about $1 per pound. If I have some sense, and snag a 20 pound bag, I end up paying far less. But, let's suppose that I do go and spend $1 per pound. One pound of rice can feed a LOT of people. It's packed with fibre (which is slower to digest, thereby keeping you full for a long time), magnesium and manganese, B complex vitamins, and only a small sliver of fat. They're also a source of protein, potassium, and complex carbohydrates.

"What about hot dogs."

What about chemicals, sodium, and "fillers." Frankly, the tofu ones are pretty foul as well (I guess tofu lips and anuses sort of taste as bad as the animal ones?) when it comes to bizarre amounts of weird crap they cram in there. Tofu, when bought in most of the country, still costs about $2.50/lb. Don't buy that either.

Get beans.

One pound of tofu can be finished by my husband very easily in one meal. If he makes a tofu scramble or something, it'll be gone. One pound of dry beans will easily feed him, me, and any guests coming over. If you feel like you're lacking in time, make Venn Pongal, and use split peas. There's your beans and rice.

While you're at it, avoid those tinned soups. It doesn't take but a few minutes of chopping, some fenugreek seeds, some aromatics, and dried herbs to make a wonderful soup. I have a three part episode based purely on soup.

All this stuff that I've been behind y'all to do wasn't just for my benefit; it's for everyone's benefit. Just because you're poor doesn't mean that you have to compromise your family's health. And while you're there, remember that eating produce and beans and rice is actually good for your body anyway. It tastes good. It doesn't require fancy equipment. You can keep an eye on exactly what you're putting in there.

Don't have time? Get other cheap ingredients that don't take as long to cook.

At my grocery store, I can get 7 plantains for a dollar. Plantains, when cooked with the skin, are extremely high in fibre, vitamins, and minerals. They also require very little complicated cooking techniques. Wash them well, take off the top and bottom, and toss them with your favourite herbs or spices. I like cumin, coriander, turmeric, and a bit of salt and black pepper. Drizzle on a bit of oil, and sautee it on the stove, or throw it in the oven. When cooked this way, the skins become crispy and the plantain gets crusty and delicious. It only takes about 25 minutes in the oven at 350 (covered for the first 15 minutes). If you want it even faster, play around with the microwave, and nuke 'em for about seven to ten minutes.

Cabbage I can usually get for 4lbs/$1. If it's not on sale, it's closer to 2lbs/$1. That'll still feed a lot of people if you don't cook it. Grate the cabbage finely, along with some carrots, combine it with some chopped up onion, a bit of lemon juice (yes, the bottled is fine), some salt, and you're done. Because you grated it finely, you won't be wearing out your jaws by chewing it. The lemon juice adds a lot of flavour, and sort of softens up the cabbage nicely. Again, loaded with fibre and vitamins and minerals.

The point is that we should be working with what we have, at whatever amount of money we make, so that we're eating well. I don't recall any amount of time in my childhood (and we did grow up very poor) where I felt like I was eating garbage, because this is the sort of thing that my mother would make on a regular basis.

It's easy, and tasty, and very beautiful to look at. Give it a shot, and you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Some of the commonly used tags on my blog.

Venn pongal

It finally got nice enough outside so that I could open the windows without freezing, and I'm enjoying it, although it's damp and rainy. That's OK! Best cure for a rainy day is a giant pot of Venn Pongal (it's in the book) with lots of black pepper. This time, instead of going the normal route, where I just use the split peas and rice, I decided to experiment with adding some vegetables in along with the cooking rice and peas.

I did just carrots this time, but since it came out so well, I imagine that I could branch out to pretty much anything else (turnips, corn, potatoes, dark green leafy vegetables, pumpkin, squashes, courgettes, or whatever else I have lying about that I want to use up). The texture is still smooth and creamy, but the addition of vegetables makes it more complete feeling. Now that I see that it works, it also looks like a really easy way to get us both eating more vegetables! Success never smelled so good.

Cold and Rain

It's freezing outside, and seriously time to break out the spices and make a little pot of piping hot rasam. On the one hand, the snow is melting away, but on the other hand, your grip on the sidewalk is all the more precarious as the pockmarked snow turns to smooth ice. Suffice to say that the cold has not only blasted my creativity (mentally) but also motivation to get off my behind and make a proper rasam. It's why this blog post sucks so phenomenally. My brain is simply unwilling to cooperate. Thankfully, I managed to crank out a podcast episode last night, so you've got that to chew on for a while. 

Advent Conspiracy

I'm not religious by any stretch of the imagination, but this video did make my ears perk up.

Sunday was good!

My husband's friend Rehmah is having him over for dinner, and wanted suggestions on what to feed the boy.

His favourite is aubergine, done in any way, shape, or form. The easiest form I'd done is with some oil, garlic, onions, garam masala, and lots of ground red chili. You start with a screaming hot pan, and sautee your garlic and onion in it. Then, add the diced up aubergine, and sautee that over very high heat. It will sear the outside, and prevent the vegetables from sucking up all the oil in the skillet if you use very high heat.

When the aubergine is cooked almost completely through, I sprinkle in the garam masala. Just before serving, I add lots of ground red chili powder, and a touch of salt to taste, and serve. It's lovely with basmati rice, roti, naan, or bread. Also, any time you serve something spicy and smoky like this, it's always good to have a side of cooling vegetables, be they diced cucumber, chopped onions, or chopped tomato, with a bit of cilantro and lemon or lime juice. If you're not a fan of cilantro, by all means, use parsley.

As for appetisers, if you want to go the impressive route, bajji always does well. You make a batter with ajwain, rice flour, curry powder, and enough water to make it about the thickness of a crepe or pancake batter (you want the vegetables to be coated in batter, but not coated too thickly). Add a lot of red chili flakes to the batter itself to amp up the lovely flavours. Then, while your oil heats and your batter rests, slice up some potatoes, peppers, onions, or whatever other things you like to have as bajji, and keep them prepared for dipping and frying. I like to drain my bajji on a wire rack set over a cookie sheet.

Fry over high heat, and do the bajji in small~ish batches. You don't want to crowd the pan, as they will tend to stick together if you're not careful. I prevent this by counting to five before adding a freshly dipped vegetable to the oil. This makes it so that the previous bajji has time to float off on its own, and not crowd the new arrivals.

If you're looking for easy, however, you'll never go wrong with guacamole. Avocado seems to be coming in sale rather often, so try this on for size.

First, start with the best hass avocado you can find. Figure that each person will eat the equivalent of one. I'm not joking or making light here. When you set out guacamole, it will get finished. You don't want to leave anyone wanting for more. If you make a little extra, it stores just fine in the fridge, so make the extra and avoid the nasty glares from everyone. DO NOT, for the love of all that's holy, buy it from the store. For one thing, the cost of the avocado is much less than ready made guac. For another, they tend to add weird ingredients, up to and including dairy products, to store bought things, and it's best to avoid those if you can.

Per avocado, use 1/4 of a small onion (red onions are excellent, but white or yellow will be just fine as well). With a potato masher (I found this to be easiest) or fork or spoon or your hands, mash up the avocado. Add the onion and a bit of sea salt. If you don't have sea salt, then use half the amount of table salt that you think you'll need. Table salt has off-putting flavours that come from the iodide and the anti clumping agents added to it, and you don't want those interfering with your gorgeous avocado.

Use the smallest amount of lemon juice possible to give it a slightly sour taste. Any more, and it'll be ruined. Start with a 1/2 teaspoon, and taste it. If it seems a little bit sour, you're there. It doesn't need any more. That's it! You don't need to add anything else at all, because the garnishes will be very flavourful in comparison.

Serve the guac in a large bowl, alongside either red or green salsa, black beans, and a bit of yellow rice. Also, have plenty of chopped up other vegetables to pile up on for those who enjoy it. My brother enjoys pickled jalapeño peppers, and most of my family loves lots of cilantro to go with it all. The point is that now all you have to do is set out those little nacho chips with the little indented shape (they're called scoops or whatever), and you've got a lovely little interactive appetiser ready to roll, with minimum effort. If you buy tinned black beans, and a good quality salsa at the store, you've only got to throw together the guacamole!

Sunday

It looks like there's roughly 10 people confirmed from Steve's church, then a friend of mine from upstate (Yonkers), then another friend and his friend from North Carolina. And then me and Steve. Vodka in the fridge, tomato juice in the fridge. I've got like two kilos of kale, soaking in water (to clean it). I'll probably end up boiling up some potatoes (just to be on the safe side, in case I run low on other stuff). Dosa batter is soaked and just right, I've got some backup coconut in the freezer (because I can't find decent fresh coconut in the store). I'll probably end up improvising everything at the last minute.

I just joined this website called Paperback Swap. What a good idea! My friend got me into it, and both Steve and I are rather excited by the possibilities. They basically took the idea of bartering, and brought it into the twentieth century.

When you post a book (it has to be in good condition), you take into account a couple of things. If it's a heavy book, like a text book, you'll be paying a little more in shipping, but the need is much higher, and it will most likely get sent off quickly. Same with a popular book: if it's something that a lot of people want to read, chances are that someone will order it quickly. It all ends up working out in the end, and coming up even.

Every time you send out a book, and it arrives in good condition, you get a credit to order someone else's book. The beauty of it is that people want to shuffle their collections around, so they're on the lookout to give away their books. It also helps you, because you're talking about Not having to go out and buy vast storage spaces for your own books. :) I'd definitely suggest checking it out:

Mung Beans

For whatever reason (I blame the crippling cold), my mung beans refuse to sprout. Freaking not cute. I soaked them then drained them then let them sit in the sun for a bit, like I normally do, but no dice. That being said they did taste quite good even if they were only a tiny bit sprouted.

I went ahead and did them really simply, which involved cooking them in a slow cooker for about eight hours on low heat. Then, when they were tender, I did the standard spice popping thing (mustard and cumin only), sautéed some onions in there. Once the onions were good and brown, I pitched in the boiled mung beans, along with the cooking water. When everything came up to a full boil, I added enough salt for my liking, a good hefty dose of cayenne pepper, and some black pepper to taste.

Of course, the flavour is quite lovely, and the soup is rather warming. I didn't have to bother with the heater today because everything was toasty from the inside out!

Lemon Rice

Steve has a potluck to attend tonight, and I'm figuring that it'll be best to make my life easier and make a batch of lemon rice. I'm doing a mix of 50% long grain white rice, and 50% white basmati rice. I'll be pitching in some cashews and rounding it out with a bit of lemon zest. This should be good.

What to make with mixed company.

We've finally got to the point where we can have people over, and often times, it'll be mixed company. What do I mean? Well, there's some that enjoy "Indian food", those that have never had it before, and those whose tastes I'm not too sure about, because I haven't met them yet. On the 14th, Steve is having some of the people from his Church come over for lunch. Again, you're talking about mixed company, because I'm not sure what everyone likes. There are definitely going to be people who enjoy spice, and those whose tongues haven't acclimated to the fire yet.

Here are a couple of easy favourites that I try to have on hand:

Mashed sweet potatoes. Basically, you peel the sweet potatoes (about 3 lbs), and white potatoes (1 lb), and dice them up into one inch cubes. You boil them in a pot until they're tender. It should take about 25 - 40 minutes, depending on your stove and how uniformly you've cut everything. When you are boiling the potatoes, you don't want to go with a full, rolling boil the whole time. Instead, stick with a full rolling boil for about five minutes, then drop down the heat to low, and let it simmer, covered, until the potatoes are tender.

Once that's done, pitch in a tin of coconut milk, some apple juice, and some cinnamon and a scrape of nutmeg. A touch of salt will help heighten the flavours all the more, and everything will be done to a turn. The texture of the sweet potatoes is a little bit grainy, so the white potatoes will help balance that out. Mash everything up with either a wooden spoon or potato masher, and serve hot. I've never had problems watching that stuff get eaten!

Hummus. This one's a no-brainer. Throw some cooked chickpeas in a food processor, a few cloves of garlic, a tablespoon or so of tahini (per eight ounces of cooked chickpeas), the juice of one lemon, a bit of cumin powder, and olive oil. Pulse until the chickpeas are kind of chopped up into small pieces. Then, knock down the chickpeas from the sides of the food processor bowl, and add a few tablespoons of water. Grind it down until it becomes smooth. If you want it to be smoother, add more water, a few tablespoons at a time, until it grinds to your liking. Along with the hummus, I usually serve toasted bread or cut up vegetables. Carrot sticks, cucumber slices, celery sticks, courgette slices, or whatever else you have on hand that you like to eat raw with a dip work excellently.

Guacamole. Again, an easy one to throw together at the last minute. I use Hass avocado, and figure on one per 3 people. I combine the avocado with lemon juice (just a teaspoon or two, tops), some minced onion, and salt. I quickly stir it around in a small bowl with a fork, so as to get it smooth, but still have little avocado chunks. You don't want the guac to be silky smooth. Some texture is quite nice. For a cute serving idea, I like to serve the guacamole inside the shells of the avocado that I vacated when I removed the avocado flesh.

Fried plantains. If you're up for it, do twice fried, but if you're not in the mood, just slice them thinly and deep fry till crispy. Peel your plantains, and slice them into 1" thick round slices. Deep fry them in medium high heat until they're tender. Let them drain on a wire rack, until cooled. Then, grab a tin of whatever you have lying around. I used a tin of beans, because it was there. Use the tin to smash the fried plantains into flat little discs. Press down gently, so that you don't break up the plantain slices. Then, get the frying oil screaming hot, and fry the plantains a second time, until they're crisp. If you decide to use thinly sliced plantains instead, you don't have to worry about the smash and refry step. They're quite lovely with some hot sauce or the guacamole.

Lentil/bean soup. Start with a deep stock pot. Heat up some oil in there, and add some cumin and coriander seeds. They should pop and crakle a lot. When the popping subsides, add some onions, garlic, and ginger (minced). Add a bit of turmeric or chili powder (not grond chiles; rather, the chili powder that comes with all the other spices in there already). Stir everything around in the pot until the spices and oil are mixed through. When the onions are soft, add in a package of lentils. I like red lentils, because they cook up in about 20 - 30 minutes. Add about double the water as you have lentils, and throw in a bay leaf. Cover the lid of the pot, and allow it to reach a rapid boil. Turn down the heat to a simmer, and allow it to cook until it's all tender.

Flat bread. I like to have either naan, pita bread, or roti on hand, so that the other stuff is easy enough to eat. It's also a nice change from the typical baguette style breads. Because I'm going to the effort to cook the rest of the meal, I just usually buy these in the store. It's a lot less labour intensive, and it doesn't cost very much money at all.

Vegetable soup. There's hundreds of recipes out there, including the ones in my book. I always make the vegetable soup more like a stew, so that it's filling and satisfying.

Roasted veg of whatever I have. Again, no-brainer here. It takes just the preparation time, and then the time to pitch the lot into the oven with a bit of oil and some dried herbs.

Pesto. 1 bunch basil, handful of walnuts, 3 - 5 cloves of garlic, juice of one lemon, salt and pepper to taste, and olive oil to thin it out. Combine it all in the food processor, and let 'er rip till everything is smooth and creamy. Toss with hot pasta, to remove a bit of that raw garlic taste. The walnuts give a much better flavour than cheese ever did, and they stand up well to the pasta. I like to use linguine or fettucine noodles for pesto.

At this point, people are usually way too full to eat much more, so we kick back and enjoy the view of the East River, and the Manhattan skyline. :)

Not really that much, eh?

Latest Podcast episode.

In my latest episode of the Alternative Vegan podcast, I describe how to make a roasted vegetable soup. I'll repost the rough ratio of ingredients here:

The final roasting took 2 bouts of 45 minutes. After the first 45 minutes, I was able to remove the garlic and onions and most of the carrots. After the second bout, everything was tender, and I allowed it to brown under the broiler for a bit. I deglazed the bottom with a bit of red wine, and kept that aside as a sauce for if Steve wants the veg just by themselves with a deep ruby red sauce.

In the end, I have the following:

Simmered veg:
3 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
2 TB fenugreek seeds
1/2 tsp turmeric powder
1 large head of cabbage, chopped
1 bunch rappini (broccoli rabe), chopped roughly
1 coconut, grated
1 cup coconut milk

Roasted veg:
2 heads garlic (added to the soup at the end)
3 medium onions (added to soup at the end after roughly chopping)
1 lb carrots (mashed, and added to soup)
5 medium beets
3 large turnips
2 large sweet potatoes

You can definitely scale back if you need to, or scale up. If you’re roasting everything on a baking sheet or in a casserole dish, this will take you much less time than it did in my large roasting dish. The soup is VERY garlicky, which I like a lot, but it’s a creamy sort of garlic punch.

I finished the soup with a bit of Hungarian hot paprika, and fresh chopped herbs (I used cilantro, feel free to use your favourites).

Suffice it to say that the entire HOUSE was smelling fantastic, and the warmth from the soup just filled you right up. Steve really loves eating his vegetables (especially when tastefully presented). After we managed to power through half the pot of soup before very long, I decided to tweak the final leftovers before putting them away. Steve neatly finished off all the turnips, most of the beets, and half the sweet potatoes. This is on top of the rice and soup he also ate. (When I say that I married a healthy eater, I want you to know that I'm not joking!) 

The leftover carrots, sweet potato, and rice (there was about 1.5 cups left) all got pitched into the food processor for a quick whiz. It only took a few pulses to make a sort of shredded thing that I added back into the soup. All of a sudden, what started off as a hearty stew became a thick, hearty and rich stew! Definitely a trick I'll be trying again in the future.

A few other tricks to thicken up your soup:

- mashed potatoes, stirred in and cooked

- hummus, stirred in at the table

- well mashed rice

- other starchy, cooked, mashed vegetables

- addition of a roux (check cookbook for recipe)

- boil it longer (so that more water evaporates) 

There's many many more, and I'll probably cover them in a later podcast episode. Go make soup! 

Smelling awesome

This is going to be a quick and dirty sort of recipe.

I started with 2 cups of dry black eyed peas. I soaked them in lots of cold water over night. The next morning, I set them to simmer for about two hours. I think there were about 4 cups of beans (after they expanded over night) and about 10 cups of water, give or take. Basically, you start with the beans in a pot, and add cold water. Then, set it on the stove. Once the water comes to a full, rolling boil, you want to close the lid of the pot, and turn down the heat to as low as it'll go. Let it simmer away like that till it's tender. On my stove that took a little over an hour and small change, but it might be different on yours.

Once the beans are about 3/4 of the way cooked (in the simmery pot), I started chopping onions, garlic, ginger, and tomatoes. For my pot of beans, I used something to the tune of 2 lbs of tomatoes (I like my beans VERY tomatoey), 1 very large onion, and 1/3 cup of grated ginger (freshly grated, of course). I also used about one head of garlic, minced up.

I started a new pot on the stove, over screaming high heat. I added vegetable oil (just enough to coat the bottom) and popped mustard seeds and coriander seeds in the hot fat. I added some cumin seeds and fennel seeds, and popped those as well. When the spices were crackling and popping (and making a mess), I added the onions, and sauteed them over very high heat. Once the onions were a dark brown, I added some turmeric (about 1/2 a teaspoon, I think), and cooked it with the onions for about 30 seconds or so.

Then, when the turmeric was done cooking, I added in the chopped tomatoes. If you have tinned crushed tomatoes, this will work just fine. I cooked the tomatoes on high for about five minutes, then dropped down the heat to low to let them simmer. While the tomates simmered, I grated up the ginger, and minced the garlic. I pitched it into the pot when I was done.

By this point, the beans were tender all the way through. I added them (along with the water; if you want yours to be thicker and richer, drain the beans first, then add them to the pot) to my tomato pot, and let the whole mess simmer for about 20 minutes. At the last five minutes, I added a good sprinkle of salt, black pepper, chili powder, and garam masala (garam masala doesn't need to be cooked too much), and lots of cilantro.

If you don't have mustard seeds, omit them. If you don't like cilantro, use basil and oregnao (either one, or both combined), with some parsley to amp up the flavour. If you prefer more fiery beans, feel free to use lots of fresh chopped jalapeños or thai bird peppers at the last few minutes of cooking. If you have some left over baked potatoes or yams, or whatever, feel free to pitch it in as well, to make it more hearty. Try it with a good crusty bread, or some brown rice for a complete meal. It's quite delicious.

Other people ...

Suffice it to say that I rant about other people all the time. In fact, there are few days that pass when I'm not annoyed at people. I feel that I'd better clarify before my friends start thinking me a misanthrope.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Underneath it all, people annoy me because they disappoint me, more than anything else. I really do love people, and enjoy interacting with them. I like to see the good in everyone. I genuinely have to believe (for my own well being) that people only try their best to do what they feel is the most good on this earth. To think otherwise would be accepting that those few (whose intentions are malicious) that ruin it for everyone else are the ones that are really the majority. I can't do that.

We really are in this journey together.

Come to think of it, something is nowhere near as much fun when I do it on my own as when I share it. What use is all the cooking, dancing, singing, or any skill, when I'm the only one to enjoy it? Why would I bother sharing my skills with others, if the only purpose in life was to look out for myself, and put everyone else's needs behind mine?

I'm not saying that I want to lose myself. Nor am I saying that I feel like lazy people should be rewarded. What I am saying is that I don't buy the whole "everyone should look out for himself" mentality. It just does not hold water for me. We evolved to where we are, because we realised that everyone has something to contribute, and that we're only as good as the weakest amongst us. This did not mean "go out and kill the weakest amongst you." It meant "do your best that everyone is taken care of, and that we all work together towards that common goal of everyone being happy.

I know it's optimistic, but I don't care. That's what I base my life on: that it's GOOD to share, and that I am only important in that I am important to others. So when I rant about stupid people, or rude people, or people that made me annoyed, it's because they really disappointed me, which is far worse than just hurting my feelings.

Soup

It's that horrible time of year again, when the weather gets nasty outside, and you sincerely question your decision to leave your bed. The best way to combat the not so great outdoors is to make soup. It's cheap, filling, and easy to do. I'm doing a multi part series on soup on the podcast, so if you haven't listened yet, I urge you to go out and so so.

I was googling around for a decent recipe for Rasam, and frankly, the ones on the internets all suck. Rasam shouldn't have onions or garlic, or much of anything else. In fact, your most basic rasam recipe even omits the split yellow peas, so that you're left with (essentially) black pepper with a few spices thrown into a tomato stock. This version is a modified version of what I have in the cookbook. Basically, it's meant to be a soup that you have whether you're feeling well or feeling ill.

Rasam powder
5-6 dry red chilies
1/2 Tablespoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon peppercorns
Roast all the spices in a small pan, and grind in a coffee
grinder.

Rasam
1 cup dry yellow split peas or toor daal
1 Tablespoon oil
1 Tablespoon black mustard seeds
tiny dash asafetida
1 lb tomatoes, chopped
salt to taste
1 Tablespoon ground black pepper
2 Tablespoons tamarind paste
1 gallon water
1 cup cilantro, minced for garnish

Boil the split peas or daal in a separate pot for 20 minutes. Heat oil in a pot, add mustard seeds,
and allow to pop. Add a dash of asafetida. Add the tomatoes, and sprinkle on salt. Cook for about five minutes. Add the black pepper, the rasam powder, and the tamarind paste. Add the water and cooked, drained split peas. Bring to a full boil, and keep it boiling for 15 minutes. When cooked, sprinkle on cilantro for garnish. Serve over mushy rice.

Beautiful, gorgeous vegans.

I did a podcast where I mentioned all the lovely email that I've been getting from my wonderful listeners. One of them was Tracey. She was the one who told us that story about being in  restaurant with her friends, and things devolving rather quickly when she found an insect in her salad:

Here is a funny story for you that happened to me at lunch today…

I was invited to lunch with a group of co-workers. I called ahead to find out what they had that was vegan before I arrived so I was prepared to order rather than sit there and question the waiter with my rant of "does it have milk, egg, cheese.. yada yada." So we all get our lunches and as I am eating they are asking about what I am putting in my iced tea. I explain what Stevia is and they start asking questions about veganism (yippeee, right?). 

Then, I feel a weird crunch [this is where you are going to go, "eww"] I pull out what looks like hard dried up meat and put it on the plate. Then I inspect my mushroom enchilada and low and behold … I see a long insect leg. As I unwrap it further, I find a dead horsefly in the food. They are looking at my plate and grossing out, then they start making comments about me needing the extra protein. (insert curse word and growl) 

Anyway, the plate is quickly and gracefully removed by the waiter. I carefully inspect my salad and cautiously bite each leaf of iceberg with wide eyes looking for inch worms or locusts. At this point, the manager comes over and offers me a gift certificate for $30 to come back. My thought is, "Why would I want to come back to a non-vegan restaurant and be served bugs again? That’s just nasty."  And here’s the gripper, as I ate my salad, I couldn’t help but notice that the omnis were just gulping down their food not chewing and oblivious to the potential “extra protein” they could be consuming. I sat there and ate my salad slowly chewing each bite. I just don’t understand how our society has such little regard for what they ingest and are quick to consume anything in front of them; not just food but all things.

I asked her permission to show you all her and her boyfriend (she sent me a photo), and she agreed. Here it is:

How to keep your man

I have lived, quite happily, with very little money. As long as I've had my Steve there, it's been really nice. But once in a while, he drops me a little reminder as to why I can't keep him out of my head, and what a treasure he is in my life. 

So anyway, a bit of gossip, because I know we all love it. Puppy found God, and started going to church every Sunday. By the time his services are over, everyone is ravenous, so he and a group of his friends from said church like to go out and have brunch. I hate freaking brunch, because they should just call the stupid thing "Breakfast with booze" already. The food sucks, it's fattening as all get go, and there's tofu weeping out of every pore. No. HATE brunch. Also, the people who "go have brunch" are usually the same types who drink bottled water even though they live in MANHATTAN, WHICH HAS THE BEST TAP WATER IN THE COUNTRY FOR GOD'S SAKE. And they get all twitchty if they have to get into a crowded subway with a homeless person. 

Mind, this isn't all of them, and I'm being a perfectly insufferable little thing, because I really hate brunch a lot.

OK. So back to the story, and away from my ranting. So he's been going, and as in EVERY church, temple, or otherwise group, the church people want to meet the spouse. Because then they can finally put a face to the name, and know what on earth the church going one is on about. I don't particularly want to go, because I'm not a churchy type. I like ... many ... other things. And, being who I am, I tended to think of them as the family loving, latte drinking, starbucks frequenting, IFC watching hipsters. And I don't know how I feel about that.

Actually, I do, but I don't want to have them crashing through my window like the CDA from Monsters, Inc and take away my giant black specs. (You'll see the picture at the bottom.) 

So he's been fairly good about inviting me on, and I've been fairly elusive, like some rare spice you only find once in a while. Like freaking Kashmiri saffron. Yeah. Bums.

In related news, I'd gone out with my fabulous friend Melissa. We went to the party at the Guggenheim (she had free passes), and wandered around to look at the beautiful exhibits. Definitely check out the Louise Bourgeois exhibit if you're there; it's really quite comprehensive. It's got both her drawing and sculptures. We're wandering up and down, and discussing the pieces, and just having a good time. An hour or two later, we both got hit with the sleep monster, and needed to get out of the party. So we begged off, and I accompanied her home.

What strikes then, but rampant hunger. I was STARVING. Fortunately, she'd had some home made double garlic hummus in her apartment, so she invited me up to have a go at that to take the edge off. We started chatting about her party, and how her friends are a very eclectic bunch. However, there were those who can't handle that, and would go sulking into a corner or whatever. Fortunately, that wasn't the case here. Everyone, although they were completely different people and would generally never hang out, was laughing and talking and just having a good time. Melissa said, "I don't need them to be best friends, but I do expect them to be social for a couple of hours at the very least." 

That's when it all clicked. Puppy doesn't need me to come with him every week to overpriced West Village haunts to eat, or drink, or anything else. He just wants me to be social for a couple of hours, regardless of what I think of them as a group or individuals (to put your curiosity to rest, I did like them all; they're lovely folk and not at ALL what I thought they'd be). I don't know /why/ it took so long to penetrate my thick skull, but sometimes you need someone else to mention something in passing for something completely unrelated to click. 

So I was about to go to the store on Sunday, when I thought, "well, I made it this far out of the house; why not just go?" I jumped on the train, and went to the place. I got there, said my hellos, and chatted for the hour or so. I find that I can usually find something in common with most people that I meet, and have a conversation for a couple of hours. We then went to Jackson Heights, bought some food, and headed home. I cooked, did some clean up, and stayed up way too late. 

But the best part is yet to come. I married Steve, because he is a kind man, who's considerate of others' feelings, and loves me dearly. I woke up to find the note. 

Role Models

And no, I don't refer to the type that walk down the runway, although those are rather nice. This is going to be a sort of meandering entry, so if you bore easily, just keep scrolling down until you get back to my usual rambling!

I was listening to the latest episode of Eat This Hot Show, where they were discussing who our GLBT role models are. I know I don't discuss being gay very often, because it's such a part of me that I don't really think about it, if that makes sense. Rather, I tend to go about my life, with my dear husband, and live in my New York City bubble. I'm not reminded of it until I hear something specific that makes me think about it. 

For the record, most of the planet, from what I've experienced, is still decidedly homophobic, and is hostile towards anyone who doesn't toe the line to the heterosexual norm. And yet, we're pointed to the gays and lesbians being shown in the mass media as some sort of giant step forward in the day to day lives of GLBT people. Think about it though. Your typical hetero young person has people that feel like s/he does being represented as the norm, and the gays in her/his life as the other. Your young gay person, on the other hand, is presented with images that really have little to do with reality, and are more of a caricature of gay life than anything else. 

Who do we look up to?

I'm not sure, because I'm drawing blanks on your "regular every day gay couple" who is in the public eye. The kind where the husband and husband, wife and wife, or whatever other combination (I don't want to leave out my transgendered folk who may identify with different terms), living together, taking care of each other, and doing typical day to day things. I'm not really seeing too terribly many people who do have that regular life out there that I did see with some of the shows that I grew up watching, like Family Matters, or Step by Step. 

It's that sort of lack of visibility that I think might contribute to the sentiment that people think that my civil rights are a matter that should be left up to the decision of the bigots who don't want them for me. My mother and I were talking about this. "If I can get married to your father, in the middle of some one-horse town in India, and then come to America and have it recognised, why can't you and Steve have YOUR marriage recognised if you go to London or whatever and come back here? Those aren't exactly little middle of nowhere places where stuff is hard to verify! What's wrong with this country?"

What's wrong, indeed. 

If I were to think hard, however, I'd come up with Ellen Degeneres, as did the ladies on Eat This Hot Show. She's always been classy, and understated. She's not out there drugging it up with reckless abandon. She's stayed with her partner since forever. Another one was Gianni Versace. He and his partner were also together for so many years, and obviously cared for each other. But where's the rest? I'm just coming up with people who are in the media spotlight more than anything else. 

If I think more about it, I come up with the people who I've known personally, like my friend De, who was the first openly lesbian person I'd ever met. I attended a workshop she did, where she had a panel of youths (around my age) discussing how their coming out of the closet affected them. Since I was still deeply closeted, it was a turning point for me. Then there's Mike. He is a junior high school English teacher. He was also very matter-of-fact about being gay, and at that time, that was exactly what I needed to see. I've got Eddie, who took me to my first gay club, and showed me that two men or two women together is perfectly normal, and that I'm not the only one out there. Then you've got all my friends in my senior year of high school. All of them were not only accepting of me, but downright loving. 

Weird how a simple question could have started the ETHS discussion, and how it got me thinking about my own journey. So what do I think we need? As much as it's important for people in the public eye to out themselves, I think it's equally important for people in day to day life to come out as well. This is NOT to say that coming out is right for everyone; that's a decision that each person needs to be able to make for herself or himself, with no judgement from anyone else.

I just wish I'd had someone to look up to sooner than I did.