Souped Up

If you know me at all, you know my feelings on souped-up vehicles which is to say: I view them with crushing scorn accompanied by an eye-roll so fierce that my eyeballs threaten to get stuck facing opposite directions in their sockets.

Something like this.

Your matte paint job reminds me of long, fake nails with a pink-tinged French manicure. Your lack of a muffler makes me want to call the cops and report you to the Department of Motor Vehicles for some unknown violation (yeah, I'm THAT person). Your absurd yellow halogen headlights are not only supremely stupid looking but incredibly dangerous for all oncoming traffic. Your car, as a whole, inspires me to open my own chop shop where I use the 3-pound meat cleaver my dad got as a gift from his younger bother where I service only your car and by service I mean hack that godforsaken thing into bits and then recycle it, piece by piece, while you watch.

Souped up cars are not my thing.

But souped up cold remedies sure as hell are. Oh yes my friends, I am on my second ear infection of the school year. My left ear is throbbing with pain and I imagine an inside view of my sinuses looks like a water park clogged with sodden autumnal foliage. Take a second and picture that.

I've told you all before that when I'm sick I am a fiend for soup. I love soup so much I want to take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant (credit: Tracy Jordan). I especially love this soup, which is something of an acquired taste.

Because as much as I hate dumb, souped up cars, I FREAKING LOVE KOREAN FOOD. Yes, that was a big jump, but you will soon learn why.

I am blessed to have not one but two half-Korean friends who introduced me to the wondrous joy that is K-food long ago. From hot stone bowls to fresh tofu to old kimchi to fish cakes to tiny chili-covered fish to unpronounceable baked goods filled with bean curd and mango, I love it all. The gigantic Korean grocery H-Mart is my happy place and I fully enjoy being one of three white people when I visit.

I also fully enjoy when either of my friends or their Korean family members cooks for me. I am a total mooch and I will certainly invite myself over when they are having Korean barbecue. I actually have requested lunch that my friend Tammi's mother cook me a special lunch on more than one occasion and because Tammi is a kind soul she relays that message to her mother Kai and I get to stuff my face.

One of my favorite things that Kai makes is a soup called miyuk gook. It's a really simple combination of broth, seaweed, cooked rice and bits of beef. Tammi always eats it when she's sick and it's become one of my favorite comfort foods when I'm feeling under the weather as well.

Of course if you're not super into seaweed it might not be your jam, but I am a huge fan of that weird salty stuff and have been known to snack on sheets of plain nori paper so...

This is a bastardized recipe for that incredibly comforting soup. It comes together really quickly, and if you don't have any beef lying around you can certainly leave it out.

Now I'm going to go back under my quilt and watch 8 more episodes of Friends. I hate being sick.

Ingredients:

2.5 c. dried miyuk seaweed, cut into strips (can be found at most Asian groceries or specialty foods stores)

1 tbs. sesame oil

3 tbs. soy sauce

2 cloves of garlic, minced

About 4 oz. beef, drained of blood and minced

6 c. water

1 c. cooked white rice

1. Rehydrate the miyuk in a large bowl of water for about 20 minutes. It will grow substantially so use a good-sized bowl.

2. While the seaweed is soaking, sautee the beef with the sesame oil, soy sauce and garlic until not quite cooked through.

3. Remove the seaweed from the water bath, drain, sprinkle with kosher salt and rinse thoroughly.

4. Add the miyuk to the beef and continue to cook for another 5-6 minutes. Add the water and the cooked rice and bring to a boil. Let simmer for about 20 minutes and serve immediately.

Soy Vey

There are many things I love about southern Spain. The people are incredibly friendly, the sky is as blue as Tide Liquid Detergent (which is not sponsoring this post but could if it wanted to hint hint I am sin blanco aka broke) and the produce is fantastically fresh and delicious.

One of the things I do not love about southern Spain however is the fact that 90% of restaurants seem to serve the same exact menu: meat, bread and cheese. Actually, if the bread were replaced with potatoes I might feel like I was back in the Midwest.

While I love a hearty meal of chorizo and tomate con ajo, a girl needs some variety in her culinary life. Specifically, some Asian variety. I am a Jewish girl which means Chinese food makes up 20% of my DNA, minimum. And the Chinese food offerings around here are...sad. And kind of gross. I just want some blisteringly spicy ma-po tofu with chunks of mushroom and ground pork swimming in chili sauce. Or a steaming bowl of winter melon soup, unidentified spices floating at the top. Or chunks of chicken dripping in homemade XO sauce on top of just-barely-cooked baby bok choy. Oh god. Somebody help me. Where's David Chang when you need him?

In any case, homemade fried rice just wasn't cutting it. So I decided to forge into the world of homemade Asian sauces. It's a little difficult out here because unlike in the States, basics like fish sauce and galangal (chili paste) are harder to come by and far more expensive. Luckily, homemade teriyaki sauce is crazy easy to make and only requires a few ingredients. You'll never buy the bottled stuff again.


I made a stir fry of carrots, chicken and broccoli but feel free to add other veggies too. Peas, bamboo shoots, water chestnuts and bok choy would all stand up nicely to this spicy, savory sauce. You can also put it over tofu if meat isn't your thing. Mmmm, tofu. I blame two of my best friends who are half Korean for getting me wholly addicted to homemade Asian food. I could eat Korean food every day for the rest of my life and be happier than Al Gore at a Prius showroom.


Ingredients:
Makes about 4 servings

For the sauce:
4 tbs. ginger, finely minced
2/3 c. reduced sodium soy sauce
2/3 c. cold water
4 tsp. cornstarch or arrowroot powder (any thickening agent)
1/3 c. honey
1/3 c. dark brown sugar, packed

For the stir fry:
2-3 lbs. chicken breast, chopped into bite sized pieces
1 head fresh broccoli, chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely minced
4-5 carrots, sliced
1/2 tsp. crushed red peppers
2 tbs. olive oil

1. In a medium bowl, combine the soy sauce, water, and ginger. Slowly whisk in the brown sugar and the honey, scraping the sides and the bottom of the bowl to ensure it combines smoothly. Once the honey and sugar are mostly dissolved, whisk in the cornstarch. Set aside.



2. In a large, heavy-bottomed sautee pan, cook the carrots and chicken in the olive oil over medium heat until the chicken is almost cooked through and the carrots are beginning to soften. You don't want to cook the carrots completely because they will get overcooked later on. Add the garlic and broccoli and cook for 1 to 2 more minutes.

3. Increase the heat to medium-high and add the teriyaki sauce and crushed reds. Stir for about 2-3 minutes or until the sauce thickens. Serve over rice or Asian-style noodles.