Isn’t it funny how we seem to be much more productive when we have less time to do everything? Now that I’m on a regular work schedule again, I find myself making to-do lists left and right. I’ve also opted to do less time-consuming recipes than usual–less preparation, fewer dishes, easier techniques… and I’ll admit that I’m definitely prone to eating a frozen pizza when I’m really lazy. (Totino’s forever! …I hate it, but I love it.)

Wings fall into this category, simply because they require little in the way of preparation in order for them to be–simply put–damn delicious. They’re pretty cost-effective for how tasty they turn out to be if you cook at home, too! I recently picked up ~3 lbs. of wings at the local Asian supermarket for $5.00 and used the entire bag to make this recipe. One dirty skillet (yes, only one pot to cook!) and an hour later, James and I had enough wings to feed us for the next two meals.

These wings are so, so good–savory, sweet, sticky, spicy… all things amazing. They re-heat in the oven well, too! The ginger, star anise and cinnamon (yes, cinnamon!) go a long way toward making these wings pack a spiced punch that is delightfully exotic. Honestly, the original recipe (featured on Andrew Zimmern’s blog) is practically perfect the way it is written. The only changes I’ve made were to enhance the ginger and star anise in the flavor profile, as well as ramp up the spiciness and the intensity of the savory glaze. Seriously, talk about umami–this recipe has that essence in spades.

I know that my pictures feature a skillet, but I would recommend using a pot instead–you don’t have to worry about stirring carefully, and the high sides of the pot will catch the oil when you’re initially pan-frying the chicken wings. And I found it helpful to have the wings closer to room temperature before cooking, as it reduced the cook time and the oil splatters. I ate the wings with some cucumbers and rice, but feel free to eat them as a stand-alone!

Recipe adapted from andrewzimmern.com.

While reviewing past recipes and the write-up before the recipes, I’ve realized that my blog entries follow a very sad outline:

1. Kris used to think ________ was icky! What a travesty.
2. (soul-searching paragraph)
3. And now she doesn’t. Yay ________!

Today, we are tackling pickles–which I also disliked for a long time. But since I seem to have disliked everything when I was growing up (ha), I’m going to skip over that fact and talk about how amazing Korean food is instead!

My first and dearest experience with Korean food was at a little joint called San Chang in Colorado Springs when I moved there in 1999. I had tried “Korean” food before at Pan-Asian restaurants around Delaware as a child, but not like San Chang. What were these funny grills doing in the middle of the table? Why were there so many vents? And why were there so many versions of pickled vegetables in tiny plates?

It wasn’t until I befriended Korean-American classmates at college that I learned the magical name of these vegetable dishes–banchan. But I loved banchan from the start, and often stuffed myself on it before the main course arrived at the table. My favorite banchan involved radishes in various forms: julienned, cubed, sliced, and so on, pickled in so many delicious ways. I loved the cool, crisp crunch of the radish and the subsequent explosion of pickling juice that would follow with each bite. They were a sharp, effective palate cleanser to the salty savoriness of galbi or the sweetness of bulgogi. Ever since that first magical visit, I’ve been a fan of Korean food and flavors… and most importantly, pickles!

James linked this pickled radish & jalapeno recipe to me while I was in the Philippines, so I gave it a go when I came back to LA and was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to make. I tweaked the ratio of sugar and jalapenos because we prefer our pickles a little spicier and less sweet, but feel free to play with the ratio according to your preferences. I also chopped the radish rather coarsely because we are radish fiends–but you can make smaller slices if you wish, especially if you’re using the pickling juice as a sauce for meat. Either way, I hope you give this very simple recipe a try–whether you’re a banchan fan like me or looking to spice up the condiments at your dinner table. You won’t be disappointed!

Recipe adapted from Top Chef Korea.

James is going to be turning the big 3-0 soon, and he was determined to knock a few things off his ‘Dirty Thirty’ list before his birthday. One of the items on his list is getting in shape–so he told me flat-out that he wouldn’t be eating any desserts or breads that I normally love to bake. Truth be told, I was pretty sad at first. I love baking, even more so than cooking, and I find it both challenging as well as relaxing. But I slowly grew accustomed to cooking for his dietary needs and along the way found myself enjoying the challenge. Adding moments of calm with products from Indacloud like delta 9 gummies also helped make the transition smoother and more enjoyable. If you’re looking for IQOS products, you can explore IQOS Terea Armenia. If you prefer smoking cigarettes to help you relax, then you may check out discount cigarettes here. You may also consider trying Terea Turquoise products.

(This is the reason my site has been bombarded with vegetable recipes as of recently, if you couldn’t tell!)

While most of the food I make nowadays is health-conscious, we still miss the more ethnic foods we normally enjoy with our families. We bid adieu to rice and rice-reliant recipes with heavy hearts, figuring that we’d be able to revisit them again with our rock-hard beach bodies. But as my interest piqued with Szechuan/Sichuan food, I realized that I needed something to balance out the spicy, intense flavors of Szechuan dishes. What to do?

Cauliflower to the rescue–again!

I’ve tried a few cauliflower rice recipes, but none that really felt like a worthy substitute for rice until now. And this recipe is so plain, so easy… you can spice it up as much as you want or leave it bare-bones as a nice, bland counterpoint to a flavorful meal. Sauté minced garlic before adding onions or add cilantro and lime at the end… use it as a substitute for rice when making fried rice… the list goes on. I’ll be honest–I grew up on rice, so nothing will truly replace the satisfaction I feel when I eat rice. But this is as close as I can get, so I’ll take it!

Recipe adapted from Om Nom Paleo.

It’s embarrassing to admit now, but I was not a huge fan of Creole or Cajun food until recently. It seems blasphemous to say something that far-reaching as a food lover–to write off an entire region that is known for being a rich melting pot of vibrant flavors. But I like to blame my strange aversion to bell peppers as well as my unfamiliarity with New Orleans cuisine. I don’t ever recall having anything remotely Creole or Cajun when I was growing up, and my college isn’t really known for its diverse culture or cuisine…

(I know, I have no excuse for the bell pepper hatred. All I can say is that I’ve come to my senses, and that sad period in my life is over.)

Now that I’m on Team Cajun/Creole, I’m all about the flavors and richness of culture that you can taste in every dish. I especially admire Cajun cooking for its resourcefulness–which is great for those of us looking for a lot of taste on a more limited budget. Sorry, Creole: let’s do étouffée another night, okay?

I know I’ve stated this before, but corn is one of my favorite things to eat. I love its sweet flavor and chewiness and think it goes well with just about anything. And when I found this recipe in a Cajun cookbook, I was intrigued. How would the subtle sweetness of corn play with the spiced, sharp flavors of Cajun preparation? Quite well, it turns out, and even better than I expected. The bell pepper and onion sharpen the sweetness, while the earthy tang of the tomato sauce makes each bite savory. Throw in the Old Bay seasoning and cayenne pepper and you’ve just kicked these corn kernels up another level!

This side dish would pair well with a fish fry or chicken and grits–it really spices up a meal without being overwhelming! I definitely recommend using fresh ears of corn, but if you’re looking for a quick and non-messy alternative, use frozen corn instead. Just defrost the corn in the microwave until the frost is melted, then follow the directions.

Recipe adapted from About.com.

James and I are fortunate enough to live near Little Osaka in West Los Angeles–honestly, we probably patronize restaurants on this street at least twice a week. It is invaluable to have such a great array of places to eat near us, especially because traffic in LA can be so restrictive! It’s almost to our detriment that we live so close by; at times, it’s hard for me to muster the energy to cook something when I know we can eat delicious food for relatively cheap prices on Sawtelle. Our proximity to Little Osaka has also made me quite content to dine out for a lot of my favorite foods instead of trying to create them at home.

The only time I do try to make some of the dishes I enjoy at home, however, are when I think that the cost of eating out is grossly imbalanced with the effort it takes to make the dish. Corn potage falls into that category quite easily, as the ingredients are easy to obtain and the recipe itself is quite easy to make.

We first encountered corn potage at Curry House on Sawtelle and instantly became enamored with its sweet, creamy flavor and thick texture. Japanese cuisine has embraced corn and tends to highlight it in peculiar ways–yes, I’m talking about corn on pizza and ice cream–but this particular preparation has been lovingly adapted from French cuisine. The word “potage” is an old French term for thick stew (potted dish, literally); as for how potage mades its way to Japan, well… I came up empty in my cursory research. Musings aside, corn potage has become a very popular Western-style food in Japan–but maintains its French origins in its preparation by building its flavor from a basic roux of butter and flour. Blending the corn into the broth creates the mushy consistency that normally takes hours for traditional potage soups, making for a soup that is hearty but altogether different than corn chowder.

I absolutely love corn potage with crusty bread, as a side with katsu curry, or even by itself–but then again, I am nuts about corn in general and love eating it in just about any preparation or style. Even if you don’t necessarily feel the same way, I hope you give it a try and enjoy it!

Recipe adapted from Little Japan Mama.

I’ve never been a fan of chili. I’m not sure if the Chili Fairy skipped over my taste buds as I was growing up, or whether I have some dark, repressed memory of a chili that caused me to refuse to eat it… either way, I staunchly refused to eat much of it until recently. I think I mentioned a few posts ago that I’m currently experiencing a flavor renaissance; perhaps this is yet another step toward being a well-rounded eater?

It’s a damn shame that I didn’t give chili a chance when I was living in Denver, and pretty ridiculous that I’ve become such a fan in more-or-less balmy Los Angeles. Even though I never ate chili when I was living in Colorado, its thick, hearty flavor and consistency instantly take me back to the cozy nights I’d spend at home with friends and family. And I start thinking… how much better would those game nights have been with a nice, hot bowl of chili shared with friends? Or a game day cheering on the Broncos with chili, beer and chips?

These sentiments always bubble up to the surface when I’m getting ready to travel back to Colorado; I love Los Angeles, but Denver is where my heart lies. Maybe these are just the words of a 2 year displaced LA transplant, and it’s quite possible these feelings may fade over time. But for now, this chili is for you and for my memories with you, Colorado. (It’s okay, Los Angeles… we still cool.)

Anyhow, enough of this mushy stuff. The holidays always get me… go figure.

I love the idea of adding beer to chili–alcohol always ups the complexity of a dish and gives it that je ne sais quoi that is hard to put a finger on. You can use whatever beer is in the fridge if you don’t want to go out and buy a darker ale, but I would stay away from using sweeter beers. If you can help it, use the smoked paprika instead of regular paprika because it adds that nice, smoky flavor to the broth  that is irresistible! And lastly, if you like your chili spicy you can double the amount of cayenne pepper. (I cut the amount in half for the recipe to make it friendlier to the non-spicy crowd.) I don’t know if I’m a masochist or just an enthusiast, but I don’t think chili is chili unless it gives you a slow burn on the tongue.

Enjoy in a bowl with cheese, on top of fries, with hot dogs, served with cornbread… however you like! A usual suspect is sour cream–if you’re trying to cut down on your fat intake, my friend Brett recommends greek yogurt as a fantastic substitute.

Whatever condiments you choose to use or whom you choose to share your chili with, I highly recommend shaping the recipe with your own additions to make it yours. That’s what chili is all about!

Recipe adapted from My Recipes.

Every ethnic cuisine has at least one signature dish that exemplifies the nuances and flavor profile of its country or people. Quick–what is the first dish that comes to mind when I mention Japan? England? France? Argentina?

I’m not saying that I speak for most, but I’m sure a large amount of you thought of sushi, fish & chips, baguettes, and empanadas, respectively. And if I were to ask you about Filipino cuisine, I’m sure that most (if familiar with it) would answer lumpia or pancit (egg rolls or fried noodles, for the uninitiated). But for me, as a kid that was weened and raised on Filipino dishes, that definitive food would be adobo.

Adobo, if you’ve never had it before, is kind of tough to describe; every region in the Philippines has a version that plays fast and loose with the ingredients. Some include more sour than salt, others are more of a stew than a pan-fried preparation. The protein component varies from shrimp to fish to chicken–and so on. At the heart of every version, however, is a harmonious combination of salty soy sauce and sour vinegar–with enough garlic to satisfy any Filipino palate.

I have an emotional response to adobo: I reminisce as the aroma wafts from the wok to my nose; when close my eyes, I’m sitting on the couch while my grandmother cooks adobo for dinner. Adobo was the first Filipino food I ever cooked away from home. It was also the first food I was able to cook by taste and not by recipe. I may be expanding my culinary horizons with each new recipe I attempt or master, but adobo will always be home–the dish that will bring a mushy smile to my face upon first bite.

Because the dish is so personal for me, I never order it at restaurants–I always make adobo for myself at home. I mentioned before that adobo preparation can vastly differ from one person to the next, and so I prefer to make it using my family’s recipe. My grandmother usually mixed chicken thighs and legs with country-style pork ribs, but I prefer the ease and juicy texture of chicken thighs. The rest of the recipe is pretty bare-bones, with minimal preparation and common ingredients–but that’s what makes it so accessible.

If you’ve never given Filipino food a try before, this is a great and budget-friendly introduction. I hope that this will become a signature Filipino dish for you, just as it is for me.

James is a bona-fide coffee addict. I’m not sure if this particular aspect of his personality originated during his undergraduate studies at Cornell or earlier. I do know that by the time we started dating, he was already in charge of the coffee maker at his job while doing research with National Jewish Hospital. When he started medical school in 2007, he earned the Starbucks Gold card in less than a year. And now that he is finishing up his second year of surgical residency, he starts his days with two shots of espresso and keeps his buzz going with habitual cups of coffee from the hospital cafeteria.

I have to admit, I’ve probably enabled his addiction instead of curbed it as I should—over the course of the Christmases we’ve spent together, I’ve gotten him:

• A coffee maker
• A coffee bean grinder
• A coffee bean roaster
• A French press
• A coffee syphon vacuum pot and burner

And after our wedding last year, he convinced me that he needed a Nespresso machine. Yeah, I think you’re getting the picture—we could probably keep the Westside caffeinated for a week.

The funny part is that I’m not really big on coffee drinking myself; I much prefer a cup of English breakfast tea (PG Tips and a dollop of milk!) in the morning and throughout the day. I dislike the jittery feeling I get when I drink coffee or espresso and resent the way its caffeine can keep me up for hours. I know, I know—tea has caffeine as well. But for some reason, I am much more susceptible to the effects of caffeine from coffee. I’ve never been able to distinguish whether it’s a placebo effect or an actual reaction. (Perhaps a double-blind test using tea and decaffeinated coffee? You can take the girl out of her Biology major, but…)

Anyhow, buying the Nespresso machine was what finally converted me to the dark side. Not only did it more or less reduce James’ visits to Starbucks by a substantial amount, but it also made me a fan of different roasts and blends. This, along with the deluge of coffee products that we’ve stockpiled over the years, has made me truly appreciate how much I love coffee after all. I will always prefer breakfast tea in the morning, but I love a good cup of coffee in the afternoon or early evening.

Now that the weather is finally getting warmer, I’ve found myself buying iced coffee at the local Coffee Beans and Starbucks stores when out and about. But with all of the coffee gear we have at home, it seems ridiculous that I spend so much money on cold coffee when I don’t buy coffee hot anywhere else. After digging around the interwebs for helpful information, I found a quick tutorial on Pioneer Woman about making iced coffee and decided to run with it!

I feel silly calling this a recipe—all that you’re doing is steeping the coffee grounds longer in cold water. It’s only time consuming because you have to let it steep for at least 8 hours or overnight. But it requires so little effort, and is so cost-effective, that I would recommend this to everyone that loves coffee like we do.  As always, a few tips:

• Choose a rich roast with citrus notes for coffee that is refreshing and goes with anything—breakfast, dessert, you name it.
• Don’t buy your coffee pre-grounded, buy the coffee beans whole! Just about every store that sells coffee also has a coffee grinder in the same section. Freshly-ground coffee imparts a much stronger, complex flavor than pre-grounded coffee that has been sitting on the shelf (and getting stale in stagnant air).

You don’t have to spend a lot on the coffee beans in order for the iced coffee to be good—just make sure you freshly grind them the same day you make a batch. James & I bought a 1-lb. canister of whole Peabody coffee beans from Columbia for $6.00 and the results were delicious.

And now, for my “look at how much money you’ll save /Thrifty Housewife” schpiel:

1. One pound of coffee beans = $6.00.
2. The recipe calls for ½ lb. coffee beans = $3.00.
3. 1 gallon of coffee = 4 quarts = 16 cups. 1 cup = 8 oz. of iced coffee = $0.19!
4. One grande iced coffee at Starbucks  = $2.50 (give or take)
5. Equivalent amount (16 oz.) made by you = $0.38!

I just made 8 grande iced coffees all at once for about the same cost of one with sales tax. If that isn’t incentive to make this recipe, then what is? (Other than the fact that this is delicious, of course!)

Recipe adapted from The Pioneer Woman.