Writing With My Mouth Full

Ginger-Mint Chicken with Mizuna and Arugula Salad

I walked to my desk this morning and a box was waiting. Anna sent me my annual supply of greens from her garden. There were two Ziploc-fulls of arugula and of Japanese mizuna. There was also a bunch of ginger-mint leaves. Chives and Texas tarragon were also included. They were an absolutely nice surprise to start my day.

I was famished after my third session of bootcamp in Central Park. When I got home, I wanted to make and eat something quick but filling at the same time. This recipe may look long, but if you have an Asian family pantry, I bet you already have most of the ingredients listed here. Of course, if you don’t have someone in Chicago sending you fresh ginger-mint leaves from her garden, feel free to substitute with regular mint leaves and a knob of peeled and grated fresh ginger. If you can’t find mizuna, try baby spinach, chicory or mustard greens–it’s important that your greens are bitter and spicy at the same time because the chicken is a tad sweet with the brown sugar. As for the corn, I added them at the last second because I found them cooked in the fridge. Using a serrated knife, I cut the kernels off the cob. You can use raw or canned corn kernels, too. The fried onions were a nice touch, but again, if you’re feeling lazy, just sautÃ© them with the chicken.

When everything was done, Anna’s fresh greens made this dish even more nourishing. An hour-long of lunges, crab-crawls and push-ups weren’t so bad after all.

Ingredients:
4 boneless chicken thighs, cut in small pieces
2 portobello mushrooms, cleaned, cut in small pieces
1 cup corn kernels
a handful of baby carrots, halved
fresh ginger-mint leaves
1 small jalapeÃ±o pepper, seeded and chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 tbsps brown sugar
2 tbsps fish sauce
2 tbsps rice vinegar
olive oil

For the fried onions:
1 larged red onion, sliced thinly, rings separated
1/4 cup of flour
peanut oil

For the salad:
a handful of Japanese mizuna greens, torn
a handful of arugula, torn
juice from half a lemon
1 tbsp red hot sauce
2 tbsps soy sauce
3 cloves of garlic, minced
olive oil, salt, pepper

1. Make the fried onions. In a large bowl, toss the onions in the flour to coat. Using a skillet, heat some peanut oil and fry the onions in small batches without overlapping. When golden brown on both sides, remove with a slotted spoon to a plate lined with paper towel. Set aside.
2. In another small bowl, combine brown sugar, fish sauce and vinegar. Stir until sugar is dissolved.
3. Heat a large wok over high heat. Add some oil and stir-fry the chicken for about 10 minutes with the carrots. Add mushrooms, corn, pepper and garlic. Add the fish sauce mixture. Stir in the fried onions and the ginger-mint leaves. Turn off the heat and make your salad.
4. In a salad bowl, combine the lemon juice with the soy sauce and olive oil. Stir in the garlic and the hot sauce and season with salt and pepper. Toss in the greens. Serve with the ginger-mint chicken.

Pasta with Baby Octopus

This recipe was adapted from one of my favorite cookbooks, The Babbo Cookbook, from one of my favorite chefs, Mario Batali. He used bavette, a thin, ribbon-shaped pasta, but I substituted spaghetti instead because it was all I had handy. He also used jalapeÃ±o pesto, but I doubled the amount of red chili flakes from what I would normally add to give it that kick without the hard work. I did make my own basic tomato sauce though, because, well, I usually do.

If you can’t find fresh baby octopuses, you can certainly used the frozen ones. Those are already cleaned. If you buy the fresh ones, all you have to do to clean them is to turn the head inside out and wash the entrails. Then pull out the eyes and remove the mouth which is found at the center of the octopus where the tentacles meet the head and body. It’s as easy as cleaning fresh squid. If you can only find large octopus, cook that longer until it’s tender and just slice it in smaller pieces before tossing with the pasta.

Ingredients:
2 pounds of baby octopuses, cleaned, washed, drained
1 bundle of spaghetti
2 cups basic tomato sauce
12 fresh mint leaves
3 tbsps red wine vinegar
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
red chili flakes
olive oil, salt, pepper

1. Using a large pot, cook pasta al dente in boiling salted water for about 8 minutes. Remove and drain. Set aside. You will cook the pasta more later.
2. While cooking the pasta, cook the octopuses. In a large saucepot, combine octopuses with the red wine vinegar and just enough water to cover. Cook uncovered and immediately remove from heat as soon as the octopuses change color. Drain and set aside to let cool.
3. In a large skillet, heat some olive oil. SautÃ© the garlic until golden brown. Add the tomato sauce and chili flakes and simmer uncovered for about 5 minutes. Add the octopuses and the pasta. Toss over high heat for about a minute with the mint leaves. Season with salt and pepper.

Roasted Duck and Plum Salad

I first served this roasted duck and plum salad from delicious. Magazine last summer when I invited about ten people from work over for dinner. I prepared several dishes to accommodate even the vegetarians, but this one was my favorite. It’s even easier if you just buy the roasted duck from Chinatown.

This is a great salad to celebrate the beginning of the summer because plums are readily available in the market. In New York City’s Chinatown, a pound of bean sprouts cost 50 cents. You can get plum sauce from the Asian aisle in your grocery store. I’ve used two small packets of Chinese takeout duck sauce as an alternative, too. Another time, I found a jar of orange marmalade in our fridge and used two tablespoons of it instead.

Ingredients:
half of a roasted duck, chopped into small pieces
6 plums, halved and seeds removed
a handful of bean sprouts
2 star anise
1 cinnamon stick
1/3 cup white sugar
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 small red chili, finely chopped
2 tbsps plum sauce
1 tbsp lime juice
a handful of basil leaves
a handful of cilantro
salt, pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350Âº. Place plums, anise, cinammon and sugar in a baking dish with 1/4 cup of water. Cover with foil and roast for 35 minutes until plums are soft. Remove from the oven, drain and save the juice. Set the plums aside to cool. When plums are cool enough, peel and slice into smaller halves.
2. In a small bowl, make the dressing. Combine the plum juice with the garlic, chili, plum sauce and lime juice. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Using your hands, shred the duck meat off the bones. Combine the duck and the peeled plums in a large salad. Toss with sprouts, basil, cilantro and sprinkle with the dressing.

Sripraphai

64-13 39th Avenue between 64th and 65th Streets, Woodside, Queens
718/899.9599
about $45, without drinks, with tip
â™¥ â™¥

Sripraphai is the kind of restaurant you have to visit again in order to really get a good feel for its Thai cuisine. Dining with a large group would help because sharing is encouraged in order for you to taste more than two dishes. Because it was just me and the Dr., we could only order three. Out of
those three, only one was solid.

The mango salad with crispy dried catfish to me was what makes Thai cuisine good. It was salty, hot, sour and sweet all the same time. The red onions, cilantro and chili peppers woke my taste buds up. It reminded me of the Filipino daing, only saltier and spicier, and perfect with a cold bottle of beer.

The dishes over rice were safe and less flavorful. I should have known better when I read that the pork came with “special house sauce.” The Dr.’s duck was a little bit better with the small, round eggplants I rarely see in any other dishes I eat in New York City. It also reminded me of the Filipino pakbet. Both came with a generous plateful of rice we couldn’t finish.

We didn’t have enough room for dessert, but we swore we’ll be back to order the other specials on the menu. Next time, we’ll skip the rice dishes and bring an army of friends with us.

Kampuchea Noodle Bar

78 Rivington Street on Allen
212/529.3901
about $50, without drinks, with tip
â™¥

It was a balmy, summer evening. We thought ordering a bowl of noodles was just appropriate. Upon entering Kampuchea Noodle Bar, I surely felt like being in Asia. It was hot and humid, but a faint breeze coming from the outside made everything comfortable inside. The restaurant details, from the glass mugs to the dim lights, romanticize everything on the menu. That’s a good thing because the food can’t hold its own.

We started with the crisp pork belly. They were a little sweet for my taste, but it’s hard for me to turn down fried fat. It reminded me of Fatty Crab’s better-executed version, served with chunks of watermelon. The pickle plate was very spicy but addicting at the same time. It made me wonder if there was a Korean back in the kitchen. My bowl of vermicelli was good enough to satisfy an Asian taste craving I was having, but the Dr. hated his bowl of duck soup because it was too oily. We both felt that the noodles needed some more love because their consistency felt like they were prepared carelessly.

The wooden communal tables and the mostly beautiful diners reminded me of Momofuku but with a sexier address. In terms of food, however, Momofuku it wasn’t.