Archive for category Food

The Nerd Cooking Hour

So I finally decided to do some Googling on the kind of electric stoves I’ve seen used here in China, since they’re something I’ve never seen before.

Jing Jing and I would fry up seven different dishes in a screamingly hot pan, then I’d pick up the pan, wipe a wet cloth across the cooking surface, and the water left behind would barely steam. Oil, water, and sauces spilled on the cooking surface just sat there while you cooked, not smoking or smoldering, until wiped away.

This thing will boil water almost as fast as a microwave and heat oil to the smoking point within seconds, and you can dial in an exact temperature (fuck this “high,” “medium-high“ or “low” bullshit, it’s all about seeing 120C on the display and getting exactly that heat in your pan) and have instant response. Coming from a normal electric cooktop and then gas, the precision, responsiveness, and power of this thing is almost scary.

Since we haven’t done much cooking lately, I’ve only gotten around to looking up the technology today. This was triggered by a long and fruitless search for a good hard-anodized aluminum pan, because I want to start cooking again, I want one of these stoves, I hate having to use gallons of oil just for a simple stir-fry in a normal iron wok, and the kitchen at the hostel is… well, let’s just say I don’t like to spend a lot of time in it.

So I started looking for aluminum pans on Taobao, China’s version of eBay mixed with Amazon. No dice, except for some Calphalon models that were going for well over $200.

Then I started thinking, okay, there has to be something behind this, and it’s certainly not a health concern or aluminum shortage — let’s figure out what it is. Google to the rescue.

 

 

 

I kind of want to know where they got these f-ed up pots and pans.

Turns out it’s the stove, which is an induction cooker. Who knew that aside from giving us electric toothbrush charging stations, wind-up or jack-off charging LED flashlights, and a promising start to actually viable wireless power, magnetic induction can also be used to accidentally make a crunchy brown omelet for breakfast in about fifteen seconds?

I guess plenty of people, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in action, or even heard of it. More info on induction cooking advantages and drawbacks here — do your own fact checking, the source is clearly biased, but it seems pretty solid to me.

 

 

 

Never had someone ask for an egg cooked half well-done, half completely raw, but I guess this is a plus for induction cookers.

For you non-nerds out there, this kind of stove basically uses a copper coil to put a rapidly alternating magnetic field just above its surface, which shakes the (note) magnetically responsive atoms of anything of sufficient mass and density (various sensors are built in for this) above it to make it very hot, very fast. So it heats the pot/pan instead of itself, which seems like a fairly sensible approach. Kind of like a microwave, except much safer, and far more useful for everyday cooking. Thankfully I don’t have a pacemaker, else the bacon sizzling on the stove would have been less of a cardiac hazard than the stove itself.

I like my bacon as deadly as possible.

Back on topic.

Since:

- Aluminum isn’t magnetic
and
- Electricity in China is expensive
and
- People here have less money than people in the States (yes, even you Han)
and
- This is by far the most cost and energy-efficient method for heating a pan that’s readily available (90% energy transfer, versus 71% for standard smooth-top electric stoves and 40% for gas)

I can see why everyone’s been giving me baffled stares when I start talking about anodized aluminum pans.

The good news is, I can just buy a good iron flat-bottomed wok like everyone else for five to ten bucks. Also, the cheapest “good” induction unit I can find on Amazon is this Circulon, for $200, and has poor reliability ratings … the fanciest one I can buy at the supermarket across the street is about $73 (i.e. rather less than one Hong Kong bowel movement); the same brand as Jing Jing’s, which she’s been using for years and is still going strong.

The bad news is, until I find a decent ferrous non/low-stick pan, I have to keep using massive amounts of oil to keep from having to plate with steel wool instead of a spatula, and my favorite pan of all time, which I was considering asking my parents to bring over when they visit, is useless to me here.

Test Run

Idle hands, devil’s workshop, etc.

Before I pack up my kitchen into little boxes, I figured I’d give this recipe a test run, and it turned out… all right. I think next time, I’m going to heat up the custard instead of just letting it cook in the oven. These also look like they’re undercooked, even though I baked ‘em a little longer than the recipe said and the custard’s set just fine.

The flavor in the custard was good; the pastry was a little salty, but that’s down to Ms. Crocker… nothing to be done about that, unless I want to make my own pastry (which I don’t).

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a slight radiating pain in my chest to deal with.

Whisknladle

1044 Wall St
La Jolla, CA 92039
(858) 551-7575
http://whisknladle.com/home/

I hit this place up with a friend this past Friday night, and I’ve been singing its praises to anyone who’ll listen — and several who won’t — ever since. We went based on a recommendation, lured by the promises of ginger margaritas.

Sadly, they were not to be.

Our server recommended a ginger mojito, instead. Superb. Minty, cool, sweet, and refreshing, with just a touch of gingery heat. A pinky-up drink, certainly, but I guess I shouldn’t be blasting my palate with hard liquor at places like this anyway.

Our seared scallop starter was a perfect balance of contrasting flavours and textures. A crisp dusting of Indian spices crackled between our teeth, and the silky scallops beneath practically melted away in our mouths. A dollop of raita on each golden scallop took the bite out of the heat, and left only a lingering warmth.

Next, mussels. They were steamed in a creamy white wine broth, which was so voluptuously pungent and rich I found myself dipping everything I could into it, short of my fingers. Near the end of the meal, my dinner companion was unapologetically sipping shellfuls of the broth straight from the dish. I offered to shield her from view if she’d grab the bowl and drink it off in one, but I was, tragically, denied that particular piece of dinner theater.

Finally, an order of (hanger) steak frites, ordered medium rare. I can’t really say much about it, except that it was the best example of this dish I’ve ever had. I’ll admit I was furtively spooning mussel broth over the steak half the time, but at least I felt a little guilty about it. Not least because I was anticipating being attacked by a caricature of a chef; a tiny man brandishing a meat cleaver bigger than him, with a little pencil moustache and one of those big poufy hats.

Again, I was to be disappointed.

The service, too, was exceptional. Our drinks were never empty, but I never got the feeling our server was hovering. He was at our elbow when we needed him, and entirely absent otherwise. My friend took a shine to the cup the frites came in, and I mentioned this to him; he looked around conspiratorially and then told us to take it. Pimp.

One of the best meals I’ve had in recent memory, and since their menu changes often, I’m sure I’ll be back.

After my credit card recovers, anyway.

Yum

So, last weekend in a fit of gluttony and boredom, I made this:

Please excuse the burned bit on the corner, I left it under the broiler a bit too long.

That’s my attempt at Gordon Ramsay’s pressed belly of pork recipe, along with caramelized apples with green onions and tarragon. I gotta say, it was pretty damn tasty, even though it was a little dry (my fault for using too broad a pan). Even so, I don’t think I’ll ever make it again. It was just too much of a pain in the ass.

It wasn’t the prep time; aside from running to the store for ingredients, it took me like 15 minutes.

The cooking time was fine too; I wasn’t even bothered by pressing it in the fridge overnight. And that’s saying something, considering my penchant for instant gratification.

The trouble was the goddamn pork fat. If you don’t clean the pans and everything right away, it just congeals into this disgusting greasy mess. I’m kind of a lazy bastard when it comes to dishes, too, so I tend to do a good scrub every couple days. So every single dish that I dropped in the sink now has a thin coating of pork fat.

Wonderful.

I guess really, the congealed fat thing was my fault. But I like to piss and moan, so here we are.

San Diego Food #1 : China Max

I’ve recently had the opportunity to visit a lot of restaurants — Chinese and otherwise — in San Diego. So that my newly acquired spikes in body fat, cholesterol, blood pressure, and liver enzymes won’t go to complete waste, I figured I’d write up a few reviews.

China Max — Chinese food (Cantonese, I think)
4698 Convoy Street
San Diego, CA 92111
(858) 650-3333
http://www.chinamaxsandiego.com
Yelp entry

Get the crab. I don’t know what it’s actually called.

I call it delicious.

I was there a couple days ago, at about 9:30pm. The place was empty but for one other table, and they seemed like they were having a good time. The place started filling up at around 10pm, which was just weird, but the background hum of conversation was a nice addition.

The decor wasn’t very memorable. If you’ve been to any Chinese restaurant in the U.S. that’s nice-but-not-fancy, you’ve already seen the place. There’s a patio area for outside seating, but it didn’t look any better or worse than sitting inside.

The server was friendly in that kind of backhanded Chinese waitress way. Businesslike but not snappish, and politely pleasant and civil. I suspect, as with many Chinese places, her nice needle tips left or right depending on how Chinese you are.

In my case, I’m Chinese but don’t speak it well, and Carrie… well, let’s just say sometimes I worry that people will think she arrived on my doorstep in a shipping crate from China with a big red ribbon tied around it.

So that probably helped.

Anyway, she wanted crab, so we got a crab. Neither of us knew how they cooked it; we just picked a nice (live) one out of the tank and asked them to cook it. I think I heard Carrie ask for their specialty.

It came out on a steaming platter, chopped into manageable sections and quick-fried with green onions, shallots, chili, ginger, garlic, and some other unidentified stuff. I’ve seen crab that looked similar on the Travel Channel (Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations when he went to Hong Kong), and it was called “Typhoon Shelter Crab.”

I’d made the mistake of ordering a second dish — clams in black bean sauce — which was decent, but just couldn’t hold a candle to that crab. Honestly, whenever I was picking at the clams I just felt like I was wasting time.

We had to order rice separately (I can never get used to that in a Chinese joint), and it turns out that the little bits and pieces of miscellany on the crab plate are fucking delicious with white rice.

I’ve heard this place does some of the best dim sum in San Diego (they do it a la carte, rather than on actual carts), so I’ll be back for some of that business.

The live seafood is always sold at “market price” … our 2.5-pound crab cost us about $30, and the clam dish was about $13. Lobster was going at $20/lb.