Writing With My Mouth Full

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    • Farro Salad with Mushrooms and Pecorino Cheese

      Almost three months after my trip to Dominica, I invited the ladies I met at Jungle Bay Resort to my apartment for a reunion. Six of us ate, drank, talked and hung out for eights hours! I was pretty tired the next morning, but was grateful for the new friends I met during a pretty tough holiday. Jai was the only vegetarian in the group, so while I served everyone else pulled pork-style center loin, I put this salad together as her main course so she could have the bite of the farro grain and the earthiness of the mushrooms while we devoured our meat.

      This dish was also inspired by my last trip to San Francisco because the mushrooms for sale in the farmers’ market were less expensive. I saw plenty of them in the Ferry Terminal and that made me wish I had access to a kitchen. So now back at home, I bought a combination of hen of the woods, shiitake and oyster mushrooms for twice the price. Farro to me is so California: I saw it several times on different menus while I was there; I rarely see it here in New York. When you make this on your own, try some chanterelles if you can add a few more bucks to your grocery budget and buy crimini and whites to add to the quantity without breaking the bank. A good Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese will do, but I like Pecorino better for this. Use a vegetable peeler to shave the cheese. Everything is quite pretty but you’d be even happier with the smell.

      Ingredients:
      1 cup uncooked farro
      1/2 pound mix of wild mushrooms
      salt
      pepper
      olive oil
      lemon juice
      Pecorino cheese, shaved
      a handful of parsley, roughly chopped

      1. Heat the oven to 350º. In a medium saucepan, combine the farro and enough cold water to cover it by about an inch. Soak for 20 minutes. Drain well and return the farro to the pan, again covering it with cold water. Bring to a boil over high heat to cook. Lower the heat, cover and simmer for 20 minutes, until the farro is tender but still has some bite.
      2. While the farro is cooking, toss the mushrooms with salt, pepper and olive oil in a large bowl. Spread the seasoned mushrooms out evenly on a lined baking sheet and put in the oven for 20 minutes.
      3. When the farro is cooked, drain well and spread it on another baking sheet to cool. Do the same with the mushrooms once they are cooked. When both farro and mushrooms are close to room temperature, combine them in a serving bowl. Drizzle with some lemon juice and toss gently with Pecorino cheese and parsley.

      Related post/s:
      Dominica travel stories

    • Where to eat in San Francisco, California: flour + water

      I will never understand why San Franciscans stand in line to eat at any restaurant, but it seemed to me that if you wanted to eat at a highly-regarded place in the Bay area, waiting for a seat was just a given. Everywhere I went, there was always at least ten people ahead of me and another twenty behind. In New York, we have a lot of dining options; a lot of them are mediocre, sure, but we also boast a lot of good eatings that there’s always another option if you can’t get in your first choice. Call me impatient but I found all the queues unacceptable in San Francisco. It didn’t matter if we woke up extra early for Tartine Bakery’s morning buns or opted to eat a later Vietnamese lunch at Turtle Tower–we waited in line.

      We arrived at flour + water around 7pm and we were told by the maître d’ that the next spot for two would open up in the next two hours. We left and drove around looking for alternatives but of course, all our other options required the same kind of waiting. We ended up driving back to the same neighborhood where flour + water was. By 8pm, I walked in again and asked if the wait time has changed–we were seated at the bar in less than 10 minutes. Just like that! Now, I don’t know if it was because those ahead of us dropped off or if it was because of the holiday weekend, but trying for prime time worked at flour + water rather than at 7pm.

      For appetizers, we started with the steelhead crudo with roe, pickled beets, lemon aioli and potato cracklings. It was an impressive combination of textures and tastes: the fish melted in my mouth like butter and the pickled beets had that perfect touch of tartiness.

      The sardines salad had a lot to say with mâché, leeks, baby fennel, cauliflower, pine nuts and capers. I kept finding baby vegetables at every bite. I thought it was beautifully crafted.

      We loved the crispy trotters shaped like chicken nuggets. The bitterness of the chicory and radicchio offset the richness of the trotters. I thought the squid ink corzetti was subtle in taste. It was definitely a notch down from the saltiness of the trotters with squid, fennel and some chili.

      It was also the tail end of San Francisco Beer Week, so we opted for the beer ice cream from Humphry Slocombe which, thankfully, didn’t taste like beer. The honey was stronger than the beer flavor that it almost tasted like vanilla with a touch of lavender.

      One thing that I will give San Francisco, though, is that none of the servers I dealt with were in any way sour or bitchy. It was always like: The wait is looking like two hours (smile). Yes, we can make sure that dish is gluten-free and we can substitute the scrambled egg with fried (smile). I never felt bad about asking for anything because I knew that they would be very accommodating. To me, that level of service was refreshing, even if I had to wait for it.

      flour + water is at 2401 on the corner of 20th and Harrison Streets. There’s Homestead on Folsom Street for drinks while you wait for a table.

      Related post/s:
      San Francisco photos on Flickr
      Where to eat in Big Sur, California

    • Jamaican Beef Shank Stew

      Back in the day, I sat across the table at work from George Weld, now chef-owner of egg in Brooklyn. I was a Web designer then and George was a poet who wanted to try his hand in writing code rather than rhymes. I remember asking him what a crock pot was because a friend told me she was buying one to give as a birthday present. Crock pots, I was told, worked like a rice cooker. Anything you put in it would cook for a long period of time in heat so low you don’t have to attend to it. So it’s like braising? Yes, George confirmed, but what’s the point of braising if you don’t brown first? I whole-heartedly agreed.

      Reading about the Jamaican oxtail stew recipe from Golden Krust in the New York Times reminded me of this conversation. When I first read it, I found several things that I knew wouldn’t work out for me. It called for cooking stovetop for a couple of hours–so why not just braise and put it in the oven? And I love oxtail as much as the next guy, but shanks just have more meat so I opted for them instead. When shank meat falls off the bone, you get the melt-in-your-mouth goodness. I also thought melting the sugar would just caramelize and not mix with the meat too well. I was right, so I occasionally added hot water while I was browning the meat to avoid the sugar from hardening. (I was also thinking of the clean-up I have to do afterwards.) And one Scotch bonnet pepper? Why not try three? I did and the entire dish had a really nice kick to it. You can rummage through the pot after the first hour of braising to remove them, but I totally forgot and they just sort of melted in the sauce. The bonus? I cleaned the stewy-sauce bottom of the pot with rice.

      Ingredients:
      5 pieces of large beef shanks
      salt
      pepper
      3 tbsps light brown sugar
      1 large white onion, roughly chopped
      half a head of garlic, minced
      1 knob of ginger, peeled, chopped
      3 Scotch bonnet peppers
      4 sprigs fresh thyme
      3 tbsps allspice powder
      1 bunch scallions, chopped
      2 tbsps white sugar
      3 tbsps soy sauce
      1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

      1. Preheat oven preheat oven 350º. Season shanks aggressively with salt and pepper. Heat a large Dutch oven over high heat. At the same time, boil some water in a separate pan so it’s next to your pot. Add brown sugar to the pot and melt, stirring with a wooden spoon, until it darkens and starts to smoke. When sugar is dark brown, add 2 tbsps boiling water. It will splatter, so have your pot cover handy. Stir to mix.
      2. Working in batches, add the shanks to the pot and brown both sides so they’re covered with the blackened sugar. Spoon in tbsps of hot water when the sugar gets too sticky and hard to avoid burning sugar. Remove shanks to a large plate.
      3. Add half of the onions, garlic and ginger to the same pot, along with the pepper, the thyme, the allspice and a third of the scallions, and stir to combine. Allow to cook until softened, approximately 5 minutes.
      4. Return the shanks to the pot along with any accumulated juices and put water into the pot so that they are almost submerged. Bring to a simmer and then cook, covered, in the oven for an hour, stirring occasionally.
      5. After an hour, stir in remaining onions, scallions, garlic and ginger to the pot. Add sugar, soy sauce and Worcestershire sauce. Stir to combine and cover. Continue to cook until the meat is yielding and loose on the bone, approximately one hour longer.

      Related post/s:
      Hot! Hot! Hot! Pickled Scotch bonnet peppers recipe
      Jamaican restaurant in Brooklyn

    • Red Rooster

      310 Lenox Avenue between 125th and 126th Streets
      212/792.9001
      $86 for three, without drinks, with tip
      ♥ ♥

      I’m very familiar with the Harlem Sunday brunch crowd. I’ve biked enough past the Baptist churches on Adam Clayton and Lenox Avenues to know that after service, large crowds gather at the nearby bakery or join the street barbecue line if it’s warm out. What I didn’t expect to see at Red Rooster was a colorful one–and I liked it. Seven years living in Harlem, I’ve witnessed the neighborhood change: beautiful brownstones getting gutted out and renovated, new apartments higher than six floors getting built in less than two years, Starbucks opening to serve $5 coffees. I’ve taken advantage of the gentrification, as most of you know, buying into one of the developments and enjoying decent brews with my bike safely chained outside the bar. I’ve slowly tried the handful of restaurants that have popped up, but businesses have shared one thread that still need a vast improvement: the quality of service. Red Rooster is no exception.

      We walked in Red Rooster and joined the crowd at the bar while two people sang gospel songs. The waiting time was half an hour to forty minutes, so we felt lucky that we got bar seats. Getting bloody marys poured out of a plastic jug and a glass of a simply-mixed mimosa was another story–the two bartenders at the front seemed like they needed another pair of, maybe six more, hands to churn out the drinks being ordered. The bloody marys weren’t even worth waiting for.

      The service didn’t change when we were finally shown our table. We must have been visited by at least five different servers, but none of them were quick enough at their feet to get our water glasses and coffee refilled, replace our butter spreaders with steak knives or place the correct plates in front of the person who ordered them. It seemed like the staff was overwhelmed, but there was constant traffic between tables and the service room that I wondered where they were all walking to.

      Thankfully, chef Marcus Samuelsson hasn’t lost the talent that he’s honed during all his years at Aquavit. I’m not sure how many of the Top Chef audience even know that he has been around before they started blogging, but for a chef who’s been in the industry before all this foodie fuckfest, I’m also surprised that he’s gone uptown to start anew. He has adopted the Web and he has been parading himself on TV; he is also very visible on the floor chatting up and photographing with business partners and customers. It’s like Marcus Samuelsson Part Two without the need to talk about his familial background. It’s all about the food now, and at Red Rooster, it’s pretty good. The nuggets and toast, or their take on fried chicken and waffles, was well-refined and filling. The fried chicken nuggets were crispy and matched the sweetness of the toast slathered in maple syrup. I wasn’t a big fan of the baked eggs because they were just overcooked, but the mac and cheese using orecchiette with bitter greens made up for them. The five-ounce fillet steak was perfectly cooked and the sweet potato bits were a nice surprise with the French fries. The corn bread is the best I’ve tasted in a while, served with honey butter and tomato jam. The coffee, especially if served black, was so good that I didn’t mind not finishing my weak bloody mary; it will be marketed as Samuelsson’s own come next season. If I can’t get to Egg in Brooklyn often, Red Rooster will just have to do.

      Chef Samuelsson’s baby is quite new, so I plan to make a return visit another Sunday to check on the service. I hope it improves and I hope they can deal with the crowd a little bit better next time because the food alone doesn’t carry an entire restaurant, nor can a famous chef.

      Related post/s:
      Southern comfort food in Brooklyn
      A 2004 review of Aquavit from the archives
      Street barbecue in Harlem

    • ilili

      236 Fifth Avenue between 27th and 28th Streets
      212/683.2929
      around $125 for 4, with drinks, with tip
      ♥ ♥

      After thirteen days eating fresh seafood and vegetables in Dominica for both lunch and dinner, all I wanted to eat upon returning to New York was a bloody steak. It was godsend that Miriam was still in the city the morning my stomach started asking for red meat and I was glad to meet up with her at ilili before she had to go back to London.

      ilili, a spacious restaurant specializing in Lebanese, Turkish and Mediterranean dishes, looks like a hotel restaurant and is apparently a party scene at night. When we stopped by for lunch though, the place was quite serene with only the soft buzz of quiet business meetings. It was, of course, the Monday after the blizzard, but I thought New Yorkers will be back on their feet eating after the New Year holiday. I was okay that most people stayed in.

      The restaurant’s $20 lunch prix fixe is one of the best deals in the city and includes a main dish and a side. I was set to order their lamb burger until our waiter announced that the day’s special was lamb porterhouse with stuffed eggplants. It sounded too heavy for lunch, but it was hard to say no after Miriam promised that I may have a bite of her burger.

      Their grape leaves were just what I needed to start–that Mediterranean taste was the only thing missing in the Caribbean and it was like something new in my mouth. The shared plate of warm pita bread and hummus sealed the deal for me. Miriam’s lamb burger was perfectly cooked and made light by the spicy arugula leaves. The fries were to die for, thick slivers but light and crunchy. The porterhouse was perfectly seasoned with a pistachio crumb on top. The stuffed eggplant was pillowy and bursted with harissa after each bite. They reminded me so much of the vegetables I ate in Tunisia and brought back so many good travel memories.

      I guessed that the pistachio ice cream included either lavender or rose water since it gave me that soapy aftertaste, but otherwise creamy and tasty. It may have not been as creamy as their clotted cream in simple syrup with bananas, but what more can you ask for when all you originally wanted was red meat? I can’t wait to return for dinner.

      Related post/s:
      Tunisia road trip travel journal

    • Smoked Fish Salad with Golden Beets, Fennel and Mache

      A week after visiting San Francisco and sitting at the bar of Bar Jules in the Hayes Valley, I was inspired to recreate a salad I had ordered that used smoked fish. After making it, I looked through my photos from that trip and realized that I put two salads in one.

      This is a great salad to prep for because you can roast a lot of beets and just use three for this salad that could serve two and use the rest of them for another dish. The smallest chunk of smoked fish you can get will most likely be still too much, so you can use the leftover somewhere else as well. And the fennel? Who doesn’t like the crunch and freshness of fennel in all their salads? Don’t feel like you have to use mâche–lamb’s tongue at some stores–either; arugula or spinach will do just fine.

      At Bar Jules for Sunday brunch, I ordered two things: a salad of arugula with fennel, Mandarin oranges and faro, plus smoked trout with golden beets. Both dishes obviously made an impression so when buying the ingredients for my version, it had slipped my mind that they were two separate salads.

      No matter though because it became one of the best salads I’ve churned out of my kitchen. Ever.

      Ingredients:
      3 golden beets, roasted, peeled, chopped
      a small block of smoked white fish
      1/4 bulb of fennel, thinly sliced
      a handful of mâche greens, some separated by hand
      olive oil
      pepper
      juice from a fresh lemon
      fennel fronds

      1. Wrap golden beets in aluminum foil and roast in the oven for 45 minutes or until tender. When cool enough to handle, peel with your hands. Chop into small wedges.
      2. In the meantime, gently separate the smoked fish meat from its bones using your hands. Set aside the smaller pieces from the larger ones.
      3. In a large salad bowl, toss beets, fennel, mâche plus the smaller pieces of fish with olive oil and pepper to combine.
      3. Squeeze some lemon juice all over the salad. Divide salad onto serving plates and top each with the larger pieces of the leftover smoked fish and fennel fronds. Drizzle with more olive oil for extra sheen.

      Related post/s:
      M & I International Foods in Brighton Beach has all the smoked fish you will ever need
      Pan-fried trout recipe

    • Day 3 in Dominica: Valley of Desolation and Boiling Lake

      I woke up extra early today to have coffee and fresh fruits at the restaurant before an ungodly start of 7:30am to our Valley of Desolation and Boiling Lake hike. Because most of the guests signed up to hike, yoga was cancelled.

      I had asked Joanne in the kitchen last night to boil two eggs for me in the morning. Joanne being Joanne asked her staff to cook three for me. I ate two with my breakfast and packed the third with the lunch we signed up for: an assortment of peanut butter and jelly, cheese and tuna-cucumber sandwiches. We each asked for three sandwiches apiece with their homemade granola bars; we had no idea the 8-hour hike was going to make us more hungry than usual. By mid-day, we were exchanging sandwiches; begging for someone else’s PB&J and trading in granola bars.

      The long drive through Dominica’s curvy road made me queasy so I was glad that we immediately started our hike from the parking lot when we arrived at 9:30am. I began to appreciate Jungle Bay’s early start to our days. We always arrived at popular hikes before anyone else, which made it seem like we were the only ones in the paths except for the occasional Germans who were stereotypically super fit and seemed to always be in a race for gold.

      We trekked through the rain forest during the first two hours of our hike. Its lush surroundings reminded me of my first day in Kilimanjaro. Moss and vines hung from giant Banyan trees; wide elephant ear leaves and palm fronds formed canopies that barely let the sunlight in. Most of the path was muddy and quite slippery because of the constant moisture, so a lot of time and care were taken while we walked. We reached a flat top by lunch time. The view from high up was pretty unreal. It was drizzling a tiny bit but it was a welcomed respite from the forest’s humidity.

      We could see the canyon which reminded me of Kauai’s Waimea. The earth was so red, a perfect contrast against all the greenery.

      We stepped on steep steps made of bamboo logs down to the Valley of Desolation where we crossed over steaming streams that smelled like sulphur, hopped on iron-dotted red rocks and held on to slimy boulders for support. Whenever we came across running water, we gloriously refilled our drinking bottles.

      When we finally made it to the Boiling Lake, Iceland came to mind. In the middle of the lake, vigorously boiling water proved that the volcano was still very active. There was a small waterfall on the side that just made the place surreal. Our group took another break while we ate our remaining sandwiches–I finally got to eat my boiled egg.

      I was amazed at how one country would bring to mind my past three travels. Dominica has so much to offer and I wondered how it’s still under most people’s radar.

      On our hike back, I remembered the small pool of water during one of our crossings. Sam had told me the night before that we could take a quick dip if we had time, and since I was hiking ahead with the three youngest participants of our group, we undressed to reveal our swimsuits underneath and jumped in. The rest of our group joined us a few minutes later and we all took turns under the small waterfall. We passed by a hot spring next, and feeling refreshed from our first swim, we all undressed again and slithered in. The hot water from the volcano was therapeutic but I much preferred the cold shocking water because I was hot during most of the hike. Our guide, Carlos, couldn’t really stop the adults-turned-children from making the unscheduled stops. We all knew we still had hours to go and that we had to be at the parking lot before it got dark, but we were all just having too good of a time not to jump in every pool of water we came across.

      My massage appointment was moved since we were an hour late returning to Jungle Bay. I took a quick shower in my room before I subjected myself to an hour-long aromatherapy massage. My legs didn’t hurt after the hike, but my body certainly still appreciated the kneading.

      I began to think that Christmas and my birthday won’t be so bad after all.

      Related post/s:
      Day 3 in Dominica photos on Flickr
      Day 2 in Dominica: Victoria Falls
      A summary of Dominica photos using Instagram

    • Day 2 in Dominica: Victoria Falls

      I fell in-love in Dominica. With my mosquito net.

      I woke up my second morning with my room bathed in morning sunlight and shadows on my bed created by my mosquito net. I quickly noted to myself to find a way to install one back in my New York City apartment.

      After a morning shower with a brown grasshopper, I walked to the yoga room at 7:30am and wished that it was this easy to commit to morning stretches back in my real life. In the restaurant an hour later, I had breakfast of eggs, fresh papaya, watermelon and star apple. These papayas were so soft and fleshy; the watermelon juice dripped onto my shirt; the star apple was actually sweet instead of sour. I felt so short-changed all of a sudden because fruits do not taste the same way in New York. I walked up to my room for my second shower of the day before joining the Victoria Falls tour with Ade and a family from Chicago. Mister Grasshopper had left for the day.

      Carlos, the guide who will become my favorite throughout my stay, hauled ass driving to the falls. It was a quick drive and a short hike through an even more lush forest with four river crossings. I didn’t wear my hiking boots this time. I followed Ade’s lead and went barefoot most of the time to negotiate the slippery rocks. I used my hands to grab on to tree roots to hoist myself up. My camera was in a Ziploc held between my teeth. Good thing too that I wore my surf shorts instead of a heavier pair of hiking shorts–the water was waist-deep in two of the crossings.

      It was beautiful in the forest. The morning light kept seeping in through the thick canopy of greens. (Reader beware: I will be talking a lot about morning light in these posts.) It was the perfect setting for someone on hallucinogenics–or so I’ve heard–or Avatar Part Two. It was so green and alive that even the moss on boulders were as soft and bright green as the best AstroTurf. Trees covered the surrounding cliff. They seemed to occupy every vertical space possible. My camera–any camera–couldn’t do the scenery any justice.

      The gushing water of Victoria Falls reminded us that there is something bigger than life. The water power was so thunderous, we kept screaming at each other about how incredible it was without hearing one another. I was just in awe.

      I slipped once but thankfully landed on my ass on a round rock. I held on as the wind power from the cascade tried to blow me away. I could not even swim past the rocks’ edges. The water was cool and refreshing and provided respite from the humidity. I tried very hard to keep my bathing suit on while traipsing.

      On our way back to our truck, Carlos cut and skinned a stalk of sugar cane and we passed the pieces around to suck off its sweet juice. I picked and smelled several leaves of fresh lemongrass, wild thyme and rosemary. I was thinking of roasted pork tenderloin and lamb chops, but happily settled for a lunch of fish curry roti back at Jungle Bay Resort with a couple of their homemade ginger-lime iced teas poolside. I read my book in between hot naps and cool swims. I had the pool and the afternoon to myself, but it felt like I had the whole world.

      I showered back in my room, chilled on the hammock with my book until it was time to join Nancy, Jai and Ade for a power walk up Paix Bouche hill. Nancy has been doing the walk everyday since she moved to Dominica three years ago and the entire staff shook their heads at me when they found out Nancy had convinced me to join her. (I came to tease her for being the crazy white lady who walks everywhere after also hearing the story that she once walked to the town of Rosseau which took her four hours.) No one could tell me how long of a walk it was, but it was no joke: the hill went up a 35-degree angle. The roti in my stomach felt like extra weight I had to carry; my achilles were throbbing. The walk was good for my calves even though they cried for help during my Swedish massage afterward. I ended up walking the hill with Nancy nine more times during my stay at Jungle Bay and I appreciated that I my afternoons were spent getting to know her during those walks.

      For my second dinner with Sam’s family, I had the traditional Dominican platter of shredded cod and dried herring with fried plantains. It was one of the best appetizers I’ve ever had–a combination of sweet and salty all on one plate. (I would end up ordering this every time it showed up on the menu.) I barely had room for the grilled kingfish and vegetable rice after the bowl of hot seafood chowder. I was impressed at what Joanne and her kitchen staff were cooking up in the kitchen. For the rest of the night, I forgot about tenderloins and lamb chops.

      I will end up forgetting a lot of regular life during this Dominican trip.

      Related post/s:
      Day 2 in Dominica photos on Flickr
      Day 1 in Dominica: Jungle Bay Resorts and Pomme’s House
      A summary of Dominica photos using Instagram

    • Day 1 in Dominica: Jungle Bay Spa and Resort

      It’s okay, Keith the driver said. The rain will stop after we pass the forest.

      And it did.

      One thing I learned during my stay in Dominica was that the weather was never what it seemed. I had a view of the Atlantic Ocean from my cottage and more than a few times I watched the rain approach like a marching band, only to abruptly stop as soon as the deluge started.

      Keith met and picked me up from the tiny airport of Melville. I watched my backpack get transferred from our small plane to the conveyor belt next to boxes of clucking yellow chicks. There was a faint warm breeze and a super bright moon in the sky before the weather turned into rain as we drove along the rain forest. Past the greenery, it was again dry and I sat back to watch Keith negotiate Dominica’s unlit curvy roads.

      After two Times magazines, an old Sunday paper, several CD compilations from my iPhone, an entire This American Life episode and a couple hours’ worth of uncomfortable naps on airport plastic chairs, I finally made it to Jungle Bay Resort and Spa in the tiny island of Dominica. What should have been a short trip from New York to the Caribbean added up to 20 hours of travel time after including waking up at an ungodly hour to get to Newark airport, waiting for five boring hours for my connecting flight in Saint Martin and driving another two hours to the cottages. I gave myself credit for packing yogurt and leftover roast pork tenderloin and Brussels sprouts from home because rum and fast food pizza from the SXM airport wouldn’t have sustained me.

      When friends found out I was going away for my birthday and the holidays, they all thought I was going to the Dominican Republic. I had to correct them and tell them that Dominica, pronounced like the name Dominic plus the A, is between the islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique. Surprisingly, not a lot of people have heard of the country even though I ended up meeting and hanging out with all the guests from the New York area.

      The dark roads reminded me of Tanzania where I saw people on the side of the road only when illuminated by our headlights. The driving reminded me of how Filipino drivers would halt to a stop when they see another car coming head-on; a honk of acknowledgement always occurred. Keith had shown me the restaurant menu as I drank my cold passionfruit welcome drink in the car. I ordered my first dinner ahead of time before the kitchen closed for the night. After two hours of driving, I was finally shown my cottage where I ate my first meal of callalloo soup, a watercress and cucumber salad and pan-seared tuna. I freshened up using the outdoor-style shower attached to my room and drifted off to sleep with the sound of the ocean crashing against Stony Beach right below me. Somewhere out there was a historic lunar eclipse, but alas, rain started pouring again as soon as I was comfortable enough on the king-sized bed covered by a mosquito net canopy.

      My internal clock woke me up a few minutes ahead of the front desk’s wake-up call. I got ready for yoga and met Nancy in the open yoga room with five other early risers. Nancy was the one who made arrangements for my stay at Jungle Bay. She made me feel comfortable booking a solo trip via e-mail and assured me that I will have all the alone time I needed without being lonely. (She being from Switzerland who ended up staying to work at Jungle Bay.) I later learned that Dominica is one of the safest places in the Caribbean for female solo travelers.

      Yoga, thankfully, was for beginners. It had been a while since I’ve done yoga so it was great not to be struggling; I suppose a few classes of Pilates at my gym have helped me too. After a quiet start to my morning, I climbed back 200 steps to my room, showered again and laced up my hiking boots. After a quick breakfast at the resort’s Pavillion Restaurant, I joined two other families and Sam Raphael, the owner, plus his two children, Ade and Jai–both New York based as well–on a hike through Perdu Temps with another staff member named Brother. (Occasionally, I asked him What’s up, bro? for fun.)

      It was a beautiful day for a short hike. The trail retraces the steps of Dominica’s run-away slaves, through the forest and up the mountains to Pomme’s “paradise”. Pomme is a local guy who lives a couple of hours up the mountain and lives with his family off his surroundings. Everything they eat comes from the plants and the trees around the property. The water comes from a stream a few yards away. An outhouse is behind the trees, but all the waste goes back to the earth. If there’s such a thing as true organic living, Pomme is doing it.

      We were mostly protected from direct sunlight by a canopy of trees. We had to cross three streams and I had to take my boots off at one of them because the water went as high as my thighs. Rain is generous in these parts and so moss-covered rocks made downhill trekking very tricky. Brother stopped and picked fresh oranges and grapefruits from trees. He carved a cinnamon tree bark to show us where the spice comes from. He picked and gave me a fresh nutmeg. We saw a lot of dashin, plants that look like taro and one of the staples of the Dominican diet. Banana and mango trees were everywhere, as well as avocado and mangosteen. I was also surprised to see tall bamboo trees swaying with the wind as I’ve never seen them before anywhere else in Central America or the Caribbean. Whenever we walked an open valley, I would look up and see the green-covered mountains ahead of me. The lushness reminded me so much of Kauai in Hawaii, and at times, I thought of the movie Avatar.

      Pomme’s wife and daughter cooked up mashed pumpkin and bake (like johnnycakes, but whole wheat) and they roasted breadnuts–nuts that look like smaller chestnuts–on an open fire. While the rest of our group joined Pomme on a short tour of his gardens, I walked down the stream with Ade to refill my water bottle with fresh spring water. Dominica is the thirtieth country I’ve visited in the last ten years and only in Patagonia was water so fresh that you could drink off the streams and rivers. I loved that I didn’t have to worry about running out of water during our hikes. This country is truly blessed by Mother Nature.

      We were back at Jungle Bay a little before 3pm. I showered and changed for the night. This time, I knew well enough to pack what I needed for the rest of the night to avoid the walk back up to my room until I had to go to sleep. I sat by the pool where I ended up napping even with the youngest guests squealing in the water. All that sun did get to me somehow. When I woke up, I walked down to the ocean cabana to watch the water crash against the rocks. I only left when small palm fruits started to fall from the trees above my hammock because of the incoming strong wind.

      It started to get dark at 6pm. I walked to the spa to claim my first massage of seven for the duration of my stay. The spa’s windows all opened up to the ocean so each treatment didn’t need background music. The warm breeze and the sound of the waves were enough to relax your entire body. The ladies who worked there are all properly trained. I noticed that every time they needed to add more massage oil to my body, one of their hands remained lightly on my back to let me know that they were still there. I haven’t received a proper massage since my Kilimanjaro hike six months ago, so I felt like Jell-O after the hour was over.

      I managed to walk to the restaurant for dinner where I joined Sam’s family for dinner. I was famished and ate cod fritters, fish soup, and tuna–the restaurant only offered seafood and chicken in terms of meat and there were plenty of vegetarian options for the more healthier guests–plus freshly-made coconut and guava sorbets. (Believe it or not, I opted out of alcohol for the rest of the week until it was time to celebrate my birthday.) For the duration of my stay, Sam made me feel like I was part of his family: it was just expected that I sit with them to eat and stay after dinner to drink and talk. By the third day, it was standard for me to greet Joanne, the kitchen manager, with a hug and a squeeze. As the week progressed and new guests arrived, our table grew from four to six, and then to eight. By the time I had to fly back to New York City, all the tour guides and drivers had already given me hugs with the lifts.

      What was this place where I was alone but not lonely? It was Dominica, and my vacation had just begun.

      Related post/s:
      Where to stay in Dominica: Jungle Bay Spa & Resort
      Day 1 in Dominica photos on Flickr
      A summary of Dominica photos using Instagram

    • Black Bean Chicken with Cashews

      When I’m traveling, I usually pack my own food to eat on the plane. My default is the artichoke salad from Snack here in New York City or a banh mi sandwich from one of the Vietnamese shops in Chinatown, but sometimes when I’m heading back home, I forget to buy something to-go or I would have eaten my one packed meal by the time they’ve rescheduled my return flight for the third time that day.

      If I must eat at the airport when I’m traveling and there are no Starbucks shops to be found so I can at least buy a decent cold sandwich–I really can’t tell you why I trust Starbucks’ sandwiches over any other deli’s at airports–I opt for the dirty Chinese food rather than the fast food burger. A, because if I’m going to indulge a guilty pleasure, it better involve rice to make me feel less guilty about eating it after, and B, I’ve tried the airport burger route before and I wasn’t a happy camper when I finally got on the plane.

      But when I do buy bad Chinese food, I’m always thinking that I can do a better and a much cleaner version. I already have the ingredients in my pantry; all you really need are a strong arm and a really hot skillet or wok to flash-fry everything.

      Ingredients:
      4 pieces chicken breasts, sliced in smaller pieces
      oil
      1 onion, chopped
      3 garlic cloves, minced
      rice wine vinegar
      2 tbsps black bean sauce
      1/4 tsp cornstarch
      1 package of broccoli florets
      1/4 cup cashews, roughly chopped

      1. In a deep skillet, heat some oil. Add the chicken pieces and flash-fry. When some parts are starting to turn white, add the onion and garlic. Sauté to continue cooking the chicken and to soften the onions.
      2. Add a splash or two of the rice wine vinegar and spoon in the black bean sauce. Stir. Add a little bit of the cornstarch at a time to thicken the sauce. Use some water or broth to get the consistency that you want.
      3. Lower the heat and add the broccoli and cashews. Keep sautéeing to finish cooking the chicken and to cook the broccoli until tender.

      Related post/s:
      Sichuan pickles is the most Chinese thing I’ve made in the kitchen
      Sweet and Sour Pork, too

    • Jalapeño Cheddar Biscuits

      When Sheena sent me this recipe from Design*Sponge, I thought of it as the ultimate savory cookie. The process read easily enough so I decided to try it on Sunday and bring them to the office the next day. They were a hit, even for those who thought they wouldn’t be able to stomach the spiciness of the peppers. For lack of a better–and classier–description, they taste like Cheez-Its, only spicier.

      I’ve made several edits to make the recipe easier to follow and renamed them biscuits because, let’s be honest, most people expect cookies to be sweet instead of savory. If you tell them you made biscuits, they’re more likely to try them. You don’t want to see the disappointment on your guests’ faces when you offer them cookies and then tell them they’re made of jalapeños.

      I found it hard to make the cookie discs. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’m just not a baker, or if my dough was too wet. After cutting the dough into small discs using the rim of a wine glass, I still had to roll them into balls and then flatten them out because it wasn’t easy to pick them up from my counter. I liberally sprinkled extra flour to dry the rest of the dough up. When all was done, the kitchen smelled beautifully.

      Ingredients:
      1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
      8-ounce block of extra-sharp cheddar cheese, grated
      1/2 cup butter, room temperature
      1/2 teaspoon salt
      1/2 teaspoon black pepper
      1/4 cup pickled jalapeños, patted dry with a paper towel

      1. In a large bowl, mix together flour and cheddar. In a food processor, combine butter, salt and pepper until thoroughly blended. Slowly add flour and cheese until dough clears the sides of mixer. Add the jalapeños for one last quick blitz. Don’t over-mix.
      2. Shape the dough into ball and wrap in parchment or wax paper and chill in the fridge for about 20 minutes.
      3. Preheat oven to 350º. When dough is chilled, flour your kitchen counter and roll out the dough until it is about a 1/2″ thick. Using about a 2″ circular cookie cutter or the rim of a wine glass, cut out circles and place on parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake in the center of the oven for about 13 minutes or until cookies are golden on top. Remove to a rack and let cool.

      Related post/s:
      Or you can just make a normal cookie

    • Butternut Squash and Coconut Curry Soup

      My mother handed me a butternut squash the last time I visited my parents’ apartment. I don’t usually get hand-me-down vegetables from people, but I was grateful for this one and immediately thought of butternut squash soup for dinner. Before cooking though, I opened my freezer to, er, re-arrange the vodka bottles in there and noticed the frozen leftover coconut milk tucked behind all the stock I’ve also stored. Something curry-ish came to mind and then something butternut squash soup-y curry-ish materialized from that.

      I puréed the squash-coconut mixture towards the end of the recipe using my food processor. Do this in batches if you have a smaller food processor or else your kitchen counter will be squash-yellow by the time you have to eat. If you have a hand blender, even better! Feel free to add more stock to reach the desired soup consistency. I like mine a little bit chunky, so sometimes I even skip the entire step of pureéing it.

      Ingredients:
      1 medium-sized butternut squash
      oil
      salt
      pepper
      3 cloves garlic, minced
      1 medium onion, chopped
      1 tomato, chopped
      1 tsp cumin, grounded
      1 tsp coriander seeds, grounded
      1 tsp curry powder
      dash of cinnamon powder
      2 cups vegetable stock
      1 can coconut milk
      chile flakes
      parsley, roughly chopped

      1. Preheat oven to 400º. Slice the squash in half and scoop out the seeds and pulp with a spoon. Slice into quarters. Drizzle the squash meat with some olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Place squash cut side down on a lined roasting tray. Roast for about 30 minutes, or until flesh feels soft when prodded. Remove from the oven and let cool. When cool enough to handle, scoop out the flesh into a bowl. Roughly chop into smaller pieces.
      2. In a Dutch oven, heat some oil over medium heat. Sauté garlic until brown and then onions until soft and translucent. Add the tomatoes and all the spices and keep sautéing until tomatoes are broken.
      3. Add the vegetable stock and let simmer. Add the roasted squash, then add the coconut milk and continue to simmer. When bubbling, aid the softening of the squash by crushing them using the back of a large spoon against the inside of the pot. Season with chile flakes for a bit of spiciness and salt and pepper as necessary.
      4. When everything is well incorporated, scoop the squash-coconut mixture into a food processor, toss in parsley leaves, and do a quick blitz.

      Related post/s:
      Xiao Long Bao with butternut squash
      Squash and Potato Gratin recipe