setting the record

by Lisa

As I write this post, the leftover shakshuka is still warm in the dutch oven. I think I'm setting the record for posting.

After David forced me to download all - yes, all 8 GB - of my photos off my camera last night, I've committed to post more immediately on the happenings in the Ro household.

Plus I told Felise I would give her the recipe.

After getting back from camping yesterday, I knew I was too tired to make anything elaborate, but I still wanted to have something special this morning for Felise. I then remembered that I had feta and parsley, which meant that I could easily make shakshuka, whose other ingredients are pretty much staples. Shakshuka pretty much defines Lisa-food: eggs, spicy, hot, saucy, cheese.

Well, David's home now so I'm off to throw in one last egg. Here's to posting more regularly!

Shakshuka (Eggs Poached in Spicy Tomato Sauce)
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

Serves 4 to 6

1/4 cup olive oil

2-3 jalapeños, finely chopped (I leave in the seeds)

1 small yellow onion, chopped

5 cloves garlic, crushed then sliced

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 tablespoon paprika (I used chile pepper instead, about 1/2-1 teaspoon)

1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes, undrained

Kosher salt, to taste

6 eggs

1/2 cup feta cheese, crumbled

1 tablespoon chopped flat-leaf parsley
 (I use more)
Warm pitas, for serving (you can eat this with any bread, or rice/grain, or just on its own, like we did today)

Heat oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Add chiles and onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft and golden brown, about 6 minutes. (I add the onions first, and chop the chiles while those are cooking.) Add garlic, cumin, and paprika/chile, and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic is soft, about 2 more minutes.

Put tomatoes and their liquid into a medium bowl and crush with your hands. Add crushed tomatoes and their liquid to skillet along with 1/2 cup water, reduce heat to medium, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until thickened slightly, about 15 minutes. Season sauce with salt.
Crack eggs over sauce so that eggs are evenly distributed across sauce’s surface. Cover skillet and cook until yolks are just set, about 4 minutes. Using a spoon, baste the whites of the eggs with tomato mixture, being careful not to disturb the yolk. Sprinkle shakshuka with feta and parsley and serve with pitas, for dipping.

Note: I usually make 2 eggs per person. You can always re-heat the leftover sauce and add more eggs for your next meal, or when others join you at the table.

simply delicious

by Lisa

Our new neighbor and friend, Jenn, is a dancer. From her, I've learned that if you give a hungry dancer a cupcake, she will eat it. And maybe want another.

Or three more.

After tasting Simply Dessert's* Red Velvet Cake, we decided to give a go at our own. I compared recipes and landed on the NY Times'. They call for three ounces of red food coloring - which, at $2.99/oz., I decided to skimp on. I bought one ounce and added two ounces of water to make up the volume.

We made a three-layer cake (our digital scale came in handy in making it even), but if you have the capacity, I think four layers would be amazing.

In my opinion, reducing the food coloring made no difference, and so other than that, I thought the recipe was fantastic.


*I've decided that "Simply Desserts" is simply a misnomer for this shop. While they do offer a cookie or a muffin for those who wish, their cases are primarily filled with huge delicious cakes. Try the Banana Amaretto and the Chocolate-White Chocolate.

Red Velvet Cake
adapted from the NY Times

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
3½ cups cake flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa (not Dutch process)
1½ teaspoons salt
2 cups canola oil
2¼ cups granulated sugar
3 large eggs
6 tablespoons (3 ounces) red food coloring
1½ teaspoons vanilla
1¼ cup buttermilk
2 teaspoons baking soda
2½ teaspoons white vinegar

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place teaspoon of butter in each of 3 round 9-inch layer cake pans and place pans in oven for a few minutes until butter melts. Remove pans from oven, brush interior bottom and sides of each with butter and line bottoms with parchment.
2. Whisk cake flour, cocoa and salt in a bowl.
3. Place oil and sugar in bowl of an electric mixer and beat at medium speed until well-blended. Beat in eggs one at a time. With machine on low, very slowly add red food coloring. (Take care: it may splash.) Add vanilla. Add flour mixture alternately with buttermilk in two batches. Scrape down bowl and beat just long enough to combine.
4. Place baking soda in a small dish, stir in vinegar and add to batter with machine running. Beat for 10 seconds.
5. Divide batter among pans, place in oven and bake until a cake tester comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool in pans 20 minutes. Then remove from pans, flip layers over and peel off parchment. Cool completely before frosting.

a foodie's worse nightmare

by Lisa

In the only Korean drama I've watched in its entirety, My Name is Kim Sam Soon, the protagonist says that she can't bake sweet things with a broken heart. Likewise for me, it's been hard to enjoy cooking after all these transitions. Moving to a new city where we didn't know anyone has made rare the opportunities to cook for big groups of people whom we love.

It's a foodie's worse nightmare when you can't even eat food and enjoy it. That's how it was when we first moved to Seattle. (Of all places to not enjoy food!)

Praise God that I'm getting over that one.

And so now I have a plethora of pictures and recipes for you, in the posts to follow.

Breaking the silence

by Lisa

I know what you're thinking. I go dormant for more than 8 months and when I crop up again, it's for a chowder recipe? That's what Holly had been thinking, too. Until she took a bite.

You have to admit, though: this is an improvement to my breaking the silence for McDonald's, no?

But still, as I sit here having my fourth bowl, looking at how pretty it is, I realize how selfish it would be for me to keep it to myself.

Look at it - all the color! flavor! textures! wine to go with! Who says you can't have soup all year round? (Besides, in any case, Chicago clearly doesn't even care that it's mid-April already; it can't seem to sustain weather above 45 degrees for more than one day in a row.)

It was a nice addition (of both flavor and color) to stir in an arugula pesto I had whipped up the previous day. (I'm sitting now pondering whether to change that to "rocket pesto," for that would still be accurate to say, and more fun.) You probably already know that I have an affinity for pestos made from things other than basil (or else you probably aren't reading much of my writing), so it was surprising to me that I had never done this before. (Why, oh, why not?) The bright, peppery taste was perfect on a simple pasta, wonderful on a baguette, and great for putting in pretty much anything else (as we found out later). And, as with the heretofore favorite parsley pesto, it didn't oxidize and turn brown as quickly as would basil. A win on all accounts.

Not that the chowder needed any help. With red bell peppers, all kinds of colorful vegetables, hot smoked sausage, a dash additional of hot sauce, and freshly ground black pepper, it was a winner. (Which isn't to say that the Riesling was by any means superfluous.) I couldn't have been more pleased.

I had thought that with all those ingredients, the chopping would feel interminable. It shouldn't have surprised me, though, that with a few girlfriends standing around the counter chatting, the time flew by, and I had rather wished there had been more to chop.

So, to the store! And more importantly, to the phone! to call up your favorite friends to join you upon your return.

Corn Chowder
adapted from Gourmet, July 2005

4 hot smoked sausages
1 to 1.5 sweet onions
2 large carrots
1 celery rib
1 red bell pepper
2 yellow-fleshed potatoes, such as Yukon Gold
5 cups chicken broth (I use water and bouillon, for more control)
2 cans corn, drained
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
dash of Italian seasoning, or fresh thyme sprigs if you have them.
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Essentially, everything you can think of that could be diced, should be. I start with frying up the sausages in a touch of olive oil, then draining them on paper towels. To the same pan add a little more oil if it looks dry, and then add the chopped onion and let them sweat a bit. I take this time to chop the remaining ingredients and add them as I'm ready: carrots, celery, bell pepper. Then I add the stock (or water and bouillon - and here I find it wise to add less water than you think, just enough to cover) and the potatoes. Also add your fresh or dried herbs. Bring it to a boil, then let it simmer, covered, for 10-15 minutes until the potatoes are just tender. Stir in the corn and cream, and let simmer, uncovered, for a few more minutes. Throw in the sausage, a dash of hot sauce, salt and pepper.

Serve with a crusty bread and a crisp white wine. (We loved it with Polka dot. Medium- or "comfortable"-sweet.)

Also good with arugula pesto stirred in (recipe to follow).

Arugula Pesto

I used, as a starting point, Molly's pesto recipe which I'm obsessed with.

2 Tbsp. almonds
1 packed cup arugula leaves
4-6 Tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. fresh lemon juice
2-3 small garlic cloves, pressed
kosher sea salt, and freshly ground black pepper.

Pulse almonds until fine like sand. Add arugula, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic and process while streaming olive oil. Taste, adjust seasonings. Serve with pasta, crusty bread, corn chowder, or pretty much anything.

Scenes from East Asia

by Stephanie

Nothing particularly picturesque going on yet today, but THANKSGIVING is here. Today I am giving thanks for laughter and love and life, things that have not escaped me even though I have fled the country for the year.

near the public square--birds hanging out at their little sanctuary, the sun doing its thing in the midst of a pollution-choked sky

Shanghai, take a bao

by Stephanie

I'm just going to put this out there--I am a terrible blogger. I have serious problems posting regularly and often, two things that make a good blogger. And I don't love taking pictures of food (I'd rather eat it while it's hot and tell you about it later). I'm trying, I really am. But I do absolutely love the writing that goes into these as well as the promise of eating the results of said experiments. I think those are what keep me going on this thing. (Slight nudge to Lisa who has been a little MIA for the past 50 years)

That said, Shanghai happened. By happened I mean we thought it would be fun to take a weekend jaunt to Shanghai, a glamorous city beyond comprehension for us country bumpkins. I was humbled by the sheer volume of the city--18 million residents and far more modernity than I imagined. The city is an interesting example of the East and West trying to blend (and the West somewhat winning in dominance). That fact was more than slightly okay with me because I have really been missing my western food. Yes, I'm admitting it. I put myself in charge of food on the trip and found some really exciting places that warmed my heart and will hopefully fulfill the quota for a while.

One thing I have been missing dearly (and this will come as no surprise to anyone) is not just good coffee but also cafe culture. Berkeley is so in step with this, and so it has been greatly jarring to my system to not be able to step outside my door and get a foamy latte at Strada before embarking on my school day. I found this French bakery that somehow made its way to Shanghai--and for an hour or so I was able to re-immerse myself in the art of cafe-ing.

The last capp I'll have for a while

me, Jena, Ellen being cutesy and adorable for the camera

We also visited Ellen's research site, which is this adorable enclave of twisting alleys, cafes, and other commercial things that come with gentrification. Another East meets West example.

That was very well and fun. We topped off the night with a ridiculous dinner at the rotating restaurant at the top of the Radisson: smoked salmon pasta, aloo gobi, and garlic naan never tasted so good.

credit: Jena

But there was a Shanghainese specialty that still eluded us: one of the chief reasons I went was for the xiao long bao, which some have described as "seductive". Is food sexy? These must maintain a precarious balance that far too many establishments have not been able to reach. The skin must be of the right thickness, only melting in your mouth and NOT the steamer basket. The meat cannot too overpowering in taste, for the highlight must be the soup inside, which should be piping HOT, delicately scented . And it should all slide down your throat like a beautiful dream. After a bad experience with the little soup dumplings/buns/jury's still out on how to categorize these, I was ready for the real thing.


Friends, they were delightful. More than that. I built them up so much in my mind because I knew they had incredible potential--there are people out there who scour the globe for the best xiao long bao--and they didn't disappoint. Shanghai did not disappoint.

Blackberries break on through

by Stephanie

So I’ve now been in this country for close to two months now. 54 days to be exact. It’s so hard to really explain to you over the internet what it feels like to not live in the US, to not be constantly surrounded by the comforts I think are home. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I really have nothing to compare it to. Even my update newsletter, which is supposed to be this grand sweeping exegesis detailing succinctly exactly what I’ve been doing for the month of September, is pretty shoddy because it’s just so hard to describe the sights, the sounds, the smells. Oh the smells. They run the gamut from freshly fried “donuts” right outside our apartment in the morning to garbage...lots and lots of garbage. Everywhere, everywhere. Okay, not everywhere (as evidenced by the photo above), but do not be deceived; there is a lot.

But what comes most to mind right now is something I received right before I left home way back in late August. You see, I’m kind of picky about the types of fruit I will eat (and up until now, most berries have been on the no list), and so when I discovered last summer that I actually enjoy the gentle sweet/sour flavor of the blackberry, I felt victorious and freed from my former habits. Modesto blackberries are awesome. And these berries taught me a few lessons before I left home this past August.

One thing I’ve noticed about blackberries is that inevitably a few of them will bruise and smoosh in your bag/bowl/fridge. These are the softer, riper ones. They are also, as I have found, dramatically sweeter than the firmer ones, and infinitely more wonderful in my opinion. To be frank, my life is a little bit of a mess right now. Somehow, the harrowing questions of What I will do with myself next year? and How I will go about doing that? eclipse the beauty of the moment, this year in Asia. There also exist the strange little things that creep around in the burrows of my heart that whisper, What if you’re not ready for that? or Seriously? (That one is more prevalent than I would like.) Add to that the utter confusion that generally accompanies one’s entry into a foreign land completely different than one’s own, and I can say that my life, right now, feels like it’s taken a small beating. I know I’m better for it, though. (Process of growing up, I see you! Don’t even try to hide.)

Another element of growing up is learning how to be fully responsible for the stuff you have to do. Sounds easy, but obviously since the vast majority of people are still incapable of doing this, I have wiggle room. The night before I left, I was in a frantic rush trying to pack all the things I should have tucked away about a week before (procrastination a giant barrier to the aforementioned element of growing up). My mom knew what a difficult time I was having trying to wrangle a year’s worth of belongings into a mere two suitcases. So when she showed up in my doorway with a bowl full of consolatory end-of-summer blackberries, I started to cry. Not the heaving sobs type, but the pathetic tiny sniffles that mean only one thing: I am not going to see my mommy for a year, and I will miss her.