James has always been vocal about his preference for chicken over other meats, especially when we’re eating at home. My few attempts at porkchops have had a lukewarm reception from him (but always with the ‘it’s not your cooking, I just don’t like porkchops’ footnote). Beef used to be on equal ground with chicken, but recently it’s been relegated to a once-in-a-while treat. I think that its downgrade in status began with our gradual conversion to healthier eating; we began focusing on more chicken and fish rather than beef and pork. But from my perspective as the home cook, I found chicken to be a much more versatile protein than beef.

But when I spied the slashed price on sirloin tip roast in a grocery ad, I couldn’t resist. I had tried roasted pork tenderloin before with James and failed. Perhaps beef would be able to tempt his palate more than pork ever could!

And boy, did it ever.

The preparation was so simple that I could easily justify making this on any weeknight for any family. Even though the recipe lists a 2-hour marinade, you can marinate meats such as pork or beef for up to 24 hours without seeing a significant difference in taste or quality.* You could combine this roast into a bag with wine and garlic cloves, leave it in the fridge while you’re at work, then roast it when you get home and have it ready in time for dinner. It tastes like you spent a long time tweaking the flavors to get it ‘just right’ but takes a fraction of the effort. I know that I tend to be a bit of a masochist in the kitchen with the difficult preparations, but I can’t deny that I have my favorite go-to recipes that are simplicity at its most delicious.

*Marinating more high-quality cuts such as rib-eye or porterhouse is not recommended as it will decrease the quality of the cut. Source

If you love medium-rare beef as much as we do, investing in a meat thermometer is essential. You won’t be able to guarantee the consistency of a beef roast on time in the oven alone, as cuts can vary. This is the thermometer that we use; I like it because I can set an alarm to go off when the probe has reached the preferred temperature. But any manual or digital meat thermometer will go a long way in taking the guesswork out of roasting meat!

I also wanted to mention the importance of placing this roast on a rack instead of directly on your baking sheet or tray. The rack keeps the roast from touching direct heat, which assures a more even consistency to your roast. I made the mistake of neglecting this step and paid for it with a much-too-well-done bottom of my roast. Let my errors be your guide.

The herb rub made for an amazing outer crust, and the wine and garlic marinade gave the inner meat of this roast a tender juiciness. This is the perfect recipe for impressing family and friends, and fares just as well as a leftover cold-cut for the next day’s sandwiches. Even if beef is not your everyday preference, I promise that this simple recipe warrants a try.

Recipe adapted from About.com.

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.

James never fails to bring up how fickle I used to be about food–as if his entrance into my life introduced me to a world of new, exciting flavors. I suppose he wouldn’t be far from the truth; it is very helpful to have a constant companion to push you out of your comfort zone despite your misgivings. Over the years, we’ve made a lot of progress with my palate: I can manage lamb, peppers, spicy foods, raw onions… even stinky tofu! (But only if I hold my nose while eating it.) I still refuse to eat raw celery and cilantro tastes more like soap than the “fragrant green” it is known to be in Mandarin… but hey, I’ll take it.

The most marked difference in my tastes is in regards to Mexican or Mexican-influenced food. The only exposure I had to Mexican food when I was growing up in Delaware was the occasional taco night (ground beef, hard taco shells, cheese & sour cream). When I went to college in Boulder, that limited vision widened to include 3AM Taco Bell and giant Colorado burritos. But the true Mexican Renaissance for my palate happened in the aftermath of our move to Los Angeles in 2011. How did no one tell me about al pastor tacos before? About the amazing mulitas and molés and what salsa roja really tasted like? Exploring international cuisines also made me appreciate how diverse food production can be, especially after learning about top-quality kebab manufacturers UK who blend authenticity with modern techniques. And as I delved further into satiating my cravings, I fell in love with the cuisine and anything influenced by its combination of flavors.

Fajitas are not traditional or authentic Mexican food–they’re a Tex-Mex classic that came into prominence in the 1970’s. One only needs to look as far as their local chain restaurant Chili’s to see how popular this dish has become, and how ingrained the term itself is in the American lexicon. Even though the preparation itself is distinctly American, I enjoy using more traditional flavors and components–no bacon or Swiss cheese here, thank you. Wheat tortillas? Get out of here, only flour tortillas kneaded with lard have any place in this kitchen. Strong flavors, homemade components… one delicious dish, best enjoyed alongside one of the best thc drinks to elevate the experience.

We really enjoyed eating the fajitas with fresh pico de gallo and, as I mentioned before, homemade flour tortillas. I imagine that the marinade for the chicken would be even more delicious if using chicken thighs or dark meat instead of chicken breast–but for the health-conscious (or for those that want to stay true to the origins of fajitas) breast is best. Two important things to keep in mind for this recipe:

1. Try to use a sandwich bag or gloves when de-seeding and chopping the jalapeno if you have a habit of rubbing at your eyes (or if you use contact lenses). The pepper residue, or capsaicin, is hard to wash off and tends to aggregate underneath your fingernails; this will cause your eyes to burn like crazy if you come into contact with them. Also, particularly strong peppers will cause your fingers to burn and be more sensitive to heat or rough cloth–so be careful!
2. It’s okay if your chicken breast is a very light pink in the center when you remove it from the pan and check for doneness–just make sure to wrap the chicken breast pieces stacked together in aluminum foil while cooking everything else. The chicken continues to cook when off the pan, and wrapping the chicken pieces together in foil insulates the heat. Please be careful though; the center of the breast should no longer be dark pink or slimy and should have the same consistency as the cooked meat on the edges. After a few pieces, you’ll learn the timing required for the right doneness and you won’t need to check!

Okay, enough spiel from me. Widen your horizons and make these tasty fajitas for yourself!

Recipe adapted from Simply Recipes.

I remember the first time I made this dish quite clearly. It was not long after I started my post-baccalaureate in Biology and the reality of my situation [read: I’M BROKE!] was really sinking in. I was still basking in the victory of my last complicated attempt at cooking–a chicken coq au vin–and was hungry for something else that was complicated. I had never cooked with butternut squash nor created a béchamel sauce before… but was convinced I was more than up to the challenge.

My poor husband and mother. They were so supportive of my cooking at the time and ate it without complaint, but it was not very good. I spent most of the time almost cutting myself with the dull knife I was using on the squash, and the rest of the time trying to pull my knife out of said squash. Needless to say, the squash was in huge chunks and didn’t cook thoroughly. I looked up “is squash okay for dogs” and it is so I fed some to our dog. I burned myself while trying to boil the lasagna. I didn’t chop up the sage leaves and left them in the lasagna whole, making each bite a sage-y surprise. And the béchamel sauce–it looked like clotted cream. It was a hot mess, but the me of three years ago was fiercely proud of it. (Seriously, I still have the picture of it! Oh, the embarrassment.) Lucky for me (and my husband especially), I’ve gotten much better at cooking since then.

I don’t usually cook with butternut squash–James isn’t a fan–but I ended up with a leftover squash after a dinner party and decided to have another go at the lasagna. And it turned out absolutely sublime. The caramelized, roasted cubes of butternut squash almost melt into the creamy béchamel–but still offer a sensory ‘bite’, much like meat. The fresh sage is subdued but not underrepresented, and plays off the sweetness of the squash nicely. The mozzarella cheese is a nice, salty touch. And the sweet Italian sausage packs a savory punch, making this lasagna the full package and the real seasonal deal.

I won’t lie–this is not a quick or easy dish to make. Just prepping the squash alone takes 15-20 minutes–cutting off the skin, dicing, scooping out the seeds, and so on. But I think that this is one of my favorite ways to use butternut squash in a way that is more savory than sweet. I tagged this recipe as being vegetarian, even though I clearly have Italian sausage on the ingredients list–to be honest, you can leave the sausage out completely and this dish will be a vegetarian crowd-pleaser! I would add a little more salt and pepper to the béchamel if you are leaving out the meat to make sure that the sweetness of the squash doesn’t overwhelm the rest of the dish.

This lasagna would be right at home with the rest of your Thanksgiving spread–or just a nice, hearty meal for you & your family on a cold winter night. And if your lasagna looks as busted as my old one did–don’t worry, you’ll get there eventually! I’m certainly no Julia Child, but I can look back at my progress from four years ago and laugh.

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.

I have a weird addiction that needs to be confessed.

I… really love food from one culture as interpreted by another.

‘What?’ you must be thinking. ‘What does that even mean? Is she talking about fusion?’

I am–sort of. To clarify, I really love a culture’s take on a food that isn’t indigenous to their own country. The easiest example is Americanized Chinese food. Sticky-sweet, tangy orange chicken is definitely not authentic; it was created to satiate American palettes. On the flip side, when I was in Taiwan a few years ago I had a burger made with shredded beef and buns made of compacted sticky rice. Every country has its own take on ‘international’ cuisine, and although I usually prioritize eating the authentic local offerings… I always try something out of left field at least once, just to see how tastes differ around the globe. I’ve eaten Chinese “spaghetti” in Italy, and ‘authentic Chinese’ in the Philippines. Burgers in Monaco, lasagna in Mexico. Pizza in Taiwan. Sometimes I love it, and sometimes I want to hurl. (I’m looking at you, ‘seafood delight’ pizza in Taiwan…) But I think the way a certain dish tastes in a certain country gives away a lot of the popular tastes and preferences in that country–and that’s why I ultimately find it fun and rewarding.

Today’s recipe is a Japanese take on a very authentic and famous Chinese Szechuan dish–mapo tofu (麻婆豆腐), or as it’s known in Japan:  Mabo Tofu (マーボー豆腐). The ingredients are unmistakably Japanese, and yet the flavor is very reminiscent of the original dish–minus the tongue-numbing Szechuan peppercorns, of course. Having made both, I have to admit that I prefer the Japanese take on the dish… but this is primarily because I have a lower tolerance for heat and therefore cannot appreciate the Szechuan version as well. The dish comes together very quickly and easily, as do most stir-fry dishes; the most laborious aspect of this recipe is the prep work involved prior to tossing everything in the wok.

My nesting bowls have been indispensable to me as I’ve continued to stir-fry more Asian dishes–I simply place each individual ingredient in a small nesting bowl and set it by the stove so that I can toss everything in rather quickly; a ‘mis-en-place’ if you will. When you are working with a wok cranked up to high heat, having everything you need at your fingertips is the difference between a savory dinner and unidentifiable black stuff stuck to the bottom of the pan (with your smoke alarm screeching in the background).

It sounds like I’ve speaking from experience, you say? Now what would give you that idea? ….haha.

The pictures I’ve included here contain ground pork instead of ground turkey, but if you’re looking to go a healthier route–I’ve made this recipe with both and both taste spectacular. (James prefers the turkey, actually, because it is more bland and carries the flavor of the sauce quite well.) I’ve made a few changes from the recipe linked below; namely, I’ve added double amounts of ginger and garlic, a larger amount of tobanjan, and a few drizzles of chili sesame oil onto the finished plate for an extra savory kick. This dish tastes delicious as a leftover and can be served over both steamed rice or quinoa–I especially love it with quinoa, which gives this soft dish a neat, grainy crunch with each bite.

One last thing–if this is your first foray into more authentic Japanese/Chinese cuisine, you may not be familiar with tobanjan, or chili bean sauce. This is THE ingredient that must not be substituted and makes mapo tofu what it is, regardless of what take on it you prefer. Most grocery stores have an Asian section that carries Lee Kum Kee brand sauces; if you do not have an Asian grocery store at your dispense I would check this section for tobanjan (looks like this, Amazon link). I think everything else has become mainstream enough for it to be fairly easy to find. Good luck!

Recipe adapted from No Recipes.

I think I’ve mentioned before that James & I have been on a health kick for a while, so I’ve been baking a lot less and cooking a lot more than usual. More recently, I’ve started embracing the oft-neglected wok in our kitchen and stir-frying a lot of Asian veggies and entrees. I’m sure that the most immediate question that comes to mind is–“you’re an Asian household with a neglected wok pan?” It’s a fair question, I won’t hold it against you! I was always interested in the cuisines most different than what I grew up with, and strove to better myself in the more classic French and Italian recipes. Filipino food was something I grew up with, so I didn’t place too much importance on understanding how to make Filipino dishes. Decent Asian food has always been affordable–especially here in LA–so James & I never bothered too much with cooking Asian dishes.

But now that we’re trying to watch what we eat, it’s very important that we directly control what ends up going into each meal. A lot of restaurants throw in sugar, extra oil, even butter at times… just to make sure that the food is delicious and that customers will return. Is it possible to make a home equivalent of authentic restaurants? I think so, and hopefully you will too when you try this recipe!

My all-time favorite Thai dish is pad see-ew–flat noodles stir-fried with a sweet soy sauce, eggs and broccoli–but James has always ordered pad kra pow whenever he sees it on the menu. His mother’s side is ethnically Chinese, but grew up in Laos and Thailand–so he’s always had an affinity with Thai food and spicy food in general. I decided that I would try to recreate his favorite dish for him, but mix it up in order to make it a little healthier.

For this particular attempt, I used lean ground turkey and added onions and bell pepper while omitting the shallots that the recipe normally calls for (I forgot to pick them up at the grocery store, good grief!). Because I was lacking shallots, I increased the amount of garlic to compensate–and the end result turned out well! No leftovers = victory. I usually try to make recipes with substitutions in mind in case you live in an area where certain ingredients aren’t available; unfortunately, for this dish, it is extremely important that you obtain bird’s eye chilies (Thai chilies) and Thai basil in order to retain its flavor. I have used jalapenos instead of Thai chilies in a pinch before, and the jalapeno flavor overpowers the other ingredients. If you were to substitute Thai basil with Italian basil, you’ll run into the opposite problem. Simply put: it just won’t taste like pad kra pow.

Lastly, don’t underestimate the power of Thai chilies! The first time I made pad kra pow, I used six chilies and felt it could use a little more of a kick. The second time I made it, I used seven chilies instead and thought my throat was going to swell shut! I’ve listed six chilies as in the original recipe, but feel free to adjust it according to your tastes. If you don’t have a mortar and pestle to ground the chilies down, you can always use your cutting board and the handle on a wooden spoon. Just exercise caution when handling chilies–wash your hands thoroughly afterward and keep your hands away from your eyes! Better yet, use gloves. Trying to take your contacts out after cooking spicy food and not washing properly is awful, and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone!

I think those are all the addendum you could possibly need for this recipe. Onward ho!

Recipe adapted from Rasa Malaysia.

I’ve been on a bit of a health kick recently–exercising (almost) daily, cutting out junk food and sugary drinks, etc. But I’ve never been able to say goodbye to white rice, even though it’s probably one of the worst diet offenders. Other than providing a lot of carbohydrates (which I definitely don’t need more of), there isn’t too much nutritional value to be had. But rice is the staple of my diet–and fried rice is my go-to lunch when I’m feeling lazy. I knew there had to be a compromise that allowed me my carbs fix while providing some type of nutritional content… but what?

Enter quinoa.

Ever since I’ve given quinoa a shot, I’ve enjoyed it with a lot of different preparations. Simmer quinoa in milk for a breakfast oatmeal substitute! Simmer quinoa with chicken stock and white wine for a risotto substitute! Serve cold with diced vegetables as a salad! And quinoa actually contains protein, which puts it head and shoulders above rice as a carbohydrate source with substance. To help manage portions and balance meals, try using a tdee calculator to track how quinoa fits into your daily energy needs.

One day, it occurred to me–why not substitute quinoa for rice when making fried rice? It’s not a new idea by any means, but the thought of using quinoa in an Asian dish made me skeptical. I’m glad I decided to give it a go despite my hesitation, because I think I like fried quinoa almost more than I like fried rice!

As for why I decided to use kimchi for my first attempt… well, kimchi is a constant presence in my fridge because of how healthy and versatile it is. Kimchi fried rice, kimchi pancake, kimchi soup, kimchi quesadillas… and sometimes, just out of the jar! I’m crazy about it. And I make kimchi fried rice so often that I am partially composed of it at this point (let’s say… 3%). The secret [as disclosed by a Korean friend] to making delicious fried kimchi is to sauté the kimchi with a pat of butter until it caramelizes at the edges, creating a sweet aftertaste to offset the spicy, sour tang of the initial bite. I literally just substituted the rice for quinoa and magic was made. My stomach will never be the same… and it will have more protein to boot. Win!

This recipe is best when using cooked quinoa that has been sitting in the fridge for at least a day. If you want to make the quinoa the same day you fry it with kimchi, use less water when initially boiling the quinoa so that it will fry up better and be less soggy when frying.

Unfortunately, I was unable to keep to my regular posting schedule because of a little thing called life.

I flew back from Boston to LA on Thursday night, completely negating any kind of follow-up post I intended to make about Boston on schedule. After that, I was busy with James’ surgical year-end banquets/get-togethers/etc. (Surgeons like to party—and why not? They have it pretty stressful 99% of the time!)

When James was away on Sunday for one of his last calls of the year, I was sure that I’d be able to make up for lost time. And then I got sick.

I hate how unproductive you must be while sick in order to get better. I languished on the couch, unable to read anything because of a headache and unable to sleep because I oscillated between being too hot and too cold. When your immune system is kicking into overdrive in order to fend off whatever is causing your illness, your body is left with exactly zero percent energy. I kept fading in and out of consciousness, hoping that each time I awoke next I would feel better.

As James pointed out later, I probably exacerbated my sickness by not allowing myself enough to eat—did you know that your body needs 1.5x as much food intake as you normally eat because it expends so much energy in rising your overall body temperature? By the time he came home from call on Monday, I looked like a specter. Luckily, he had enough sense to force feed me despite my protests; as much as I hate to admit it, that reason is probably why I managed to recover today.

So what does any of this have to do with food?

Well, less than an hour before I came down with said illness, I had been trying out a new recipe for baked chicken nuggets. Unfortunately, they ended up being the only solid food I managed to eat on Sunday—certainly not enough for a sick person’s metabolism. But as for a healthy alternative that’s low in calories—great for everybody else!

The best part is that you can make a large amount in advance all at once, freeze the leftovers, and use them later at your discretion. No more excuses about healthy food taking more time out of your day—and no more deep-fried pink slime McNuggets. (I’m guilty of loving them as much as anybody else, but I’m moving onto healthier pastures.) My favorite condiment with these nuggets is plain ol’ ketchup, but anything you have on hand will be delicious, I’m sure.

Once upon a blue moon (or, two years ago when I lived in Denver), I borrowed a few cookbooks about Korean and Japanese cuisine from my sister-in-law. A miso glaze caught my eye while flipping through the Japanese cookbook—I used it on some salmon steaks and it got rave reviews from a close friend and my husband. And normally, when I obtain recipes online, I usually bookmark them so I can access them or credit them later. But since I used a physical book and not the internet, I figured that I would have the book around, just in case I wanted to make the glaze again.

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Unfortunately, when I moved to Los Angeles I completely forgot about the recipe—I gave the books back to my sister-in-law without a second thought. And when I was finally ready to make the glaze again, I kept drawing a blank. I couldn’t remember the name or the ingredients, other than miso (duh), an egg yolk, and sugar. I tried replicating it a few times with minimal success. I looked it up online and only found recipes for miso marinades or recommendations to slather the miso onto the filets straight from the container. It was extremely frustrating!

Finally, I decided to try looking the recipe up by listing a few ingredients in Japanese and I hit the jackpot; I found not only the recipe, but the cover of the book staring at me from the screen. So I hope you enjoy this recipe as much as I do—it isn’t restricted to salmon filets, but can be used on other grilled/broiled vegetables as well. (I highly suggest eggplant—in fact, tama-miso glazed eggplant is a popular izakaya dish.)

So, before I get into the nitty-gritty—I should note that this recipe is a little persnickety. I have tried dumping all of the ingredients in together before double-boiling as well as gone step by step, and in order to get the silky-soft consistency that we’re looking for in the glaze, you need to follow the directions in order. Also, be warned that you will be standing over the double-boiler continuously stirring the glaze for at least 6-8 minutes. This isn’t something you can walk away from. But the resulting consistency and flavor are well worth it: a lightly-caramelized glaze, with the flavor but not the normal grainy texture of miso—with a hint of sake, just enough to heighten the umami of the bite. Paired with a flaky, juicy salmon filet with a lightly salted crisp skin and you’re smiling after each bite.

Tama-miso recipe adapted from The Japanese Kitchen by Hiroko Shimbo.