Jaded

http://www.jadeteahouse.com

Nah, I would be "jaded" if I avoided the first obvious blog post title that presented itself.

I enjoyed my experience at this place so much last night, that I'm resurrecting my weblog. Next step: finding and charging my camera, taking pictures of things that I cook again, etc.

THIS PLACE ROCKS. Now. Disclaimer. Part of the reason that it rocks so strongly is because it's like the proprietors designed it with Carrina's dream restaurant in mind from start to finish. Adorable but unpretentious exterior? Yup. Sunny, laid-back, high-ceiling interior? Indeed. Oh, yes - the food. Menu with Vietnamese baguette sandwiches (banh mi, right? All that pickled crunchy daikon goodness) in the center, but splayed out in all directions, from sticky fish sauce wings (yes) to pho (YES) to spicy rice noodles of varied shapes and sizes (YES!).

But wait. You call yourself a "Teahouse and Patisserie." Meaning that I could sip on what sound to be satisfying teas and enjoy the free wi-fi or board games that are hanging out in that casual section toward the back? I won't, because this place is far, far from my neighborhood - but I COULD, which edges this place towards its third Carrinalin star.

And... what's that - patisserie? I'm sorry, in addition to baking your own fantastic baguettes for the sandwiches, you also have a cornucopia of baked, puffed, and/or filled goods? As we were walking out, I saw someone being served a layered, moussy, cross-section invention in pale green - some sort of matcha tiramisu? There were also multi-colored sandwich macaroons, a broiled s'more cookie (Mike liked it) and, and, AND - an amazing chewy sesame ball* (think cream puff or beignet except the texture is fifty times better) with pureed and fluffed angels' wings inside. Oh, I'm told that was actually some sort of combination of sweet bean paste and coconut. Served with a caramel dipping sauce. And the caramel dipping sauce officially gets Jade to its fourth star.

Mike had the sandwich with the barbecued pork. He couldn't eat a lot of it because he didn't pay attention to the cilantro advisory, but I sampled quite a bit and can tell you that it was everything wonderful. The daikon slices were as thick as maybe three pieces of copier paper. Carrot, cilantro, cilantro mayo, a little marination magic on the veggies, and barbecued pork - BOOM. Magic. And magic bread that holds up through it all.

I had the sticky fish sauce wings and rice. I've heard people talk about them at Pok Pok but have a bit of a chip on my shoulder for that place. I'm not a wings person, but I had to try them and was glad I did - crispy, sticky, SALTY, sweet. Good meat. Cilantro sprigs on top. Some cucumber, tomato, and plenty of wing-y juice to entertain me while I waited for my molten wings to cool down. They weren't braised wings drowned in sauce, which is what I have on occasion observed when I see others eat wings. Each individual wing was a crackling little treat. The coating reminded me in some weird way of a candy store at the coast - but if that creeps you out, don't listen to me, because all you need to know is that they were awesome.

In summary - I am now a fangirl. Now if only this restaurant-in-a-house could take a Dorothy-like journey up the river to St. Johns - I would be SET!

*appears in the left-hand corner of the picture

Spoils of Summer - Daikon-Beet Salad with Mashed Plantain

This heat is killing my produce. I had a plantain, two beets, a shallot, some garlic, and a daikon radish (the size of my forearm). They were all on their way out - even the garlic, which is saying something because my garlic standards are pretty low. I made something that actually resembles potato salad - in taste only, though.

I did a teensy bit of interwebs research before embarking on this experiment. I couldn't find anything that exactly resembled what I wanted to do, but this recipe helped me verify that beets and daikons could go together; this one gave me a recipe for a salad using regular potatoes and daikons (and about a million other tasty things I didn't have on hand), and this one told me how to get the plantain out of its skin. Thanks, epicurious!

I peeled the daikon and chopped them into matchsticks. Same with the beets, after cooking and peeling them (I simmered the beets with a splash of apple cider vinegar for about 20 minutes. About 5 minutes in, I threw in the plantain, with its ends trimmed off and cut crosswise into three pieces).

I minced the shallot, mixed it with some honey, (light) sesame oil, white wine vinegar, yellow mustard, slivered garlic, salt, and pepper, and then stirred in the beet and daikon matchsticks. This part then went into the fridge to chill and wait for the mashed plantain.

Once the plantain pieces looked soft enough for me to get the peel off, I drained the water and pulled the peel off with the help of a knife and fork. I mashed the plantain with a little salt and sesame oil (just enough to get it to more or less stick together - not creamy like regular mashed potatoes) and stuck it in the fridge to cool. I cooled it separately from the beet-daikon mixture because I didn't want the heat to un-crisp the daikon, but in retrospect I probably should have mixed the plantain in when it was still a little warm, so that it would have been creamier. I also would have used one or two more plantains if I'd had them. But hey - for a using-things-up dish, this really did come out pretty well! Mike even ate all of his and said something about "liking" it. Success! And pink, pink leftovers!

Kimchi!

My kimchi had it all - it was spicy and salty, with just a hint of scandal!

...Daikon radishes!

Now, I know next to nothing about kimchi. All I know is that Big Kahuna's BBQ in St Johns offers it as a condiment for their saimin (Haiwaiian-style noodle soup - I'm sure there's more to it than that, but that's the quick description), and when we lived in St Johns, I learned to like both - a lot. It's spicy, crunchy, tangy, salty, and a teensy bit sweet.

I'll now cut straight to the Wikipedia definition, so I don't screw it up: Kimchi is "a traditional Korean pickled dish made of vegetables with varied seasonings. Its most common manifestation is the spicy baechu (cabbage) variety. Kimchi is the most common banchan, or side dish. Kimchi is also a common ingredient and combined with other ingredients to make dishes such as kimchi stew (kimchi jjigae) and kimchi fried rice (kimchi bokkeumbap)."

I saw some big, beautiful daikon radishes on sale at the store a couple of weeks ago. I don't really like radishes, but I had read that daikons are sometimes used in different varieties of kimchi, and seeing them reminded me that I'd wanted to try making kimchi. So, I picked up a bundle... of three. Huge. Radishes.

When I got home and looked up some kimchi recipes online, I discovered that just to get by with basics (so leaving aside powdered dried shrimp and all that good stuff for the moment), I'd also need Napa cabbage, onion, ginger, and garlic, and maybe some bottled kimchi paste. In fact, it sounded like the daikons were a bonus, and actually turn the kimchi into a different variety. In other words, you can make kimchi with cabbage or radishes (or cucumber, etc.) as the only crunchy veggie - you don't have to have both. The recipes also called for a Korean red pepper powder called kochukaru, but since I started this insane quest on a Sunday, it seemed that all of the groceries that might have sold it were closed, and I wasn't about to trek across the river to Uwajimaya (though it was tempting - maybe next time!). So, I ended up using regular ol' red chili powder, and while I am the first to admit that the result was not identical to the bliss I experienced at Big Kahuna's, it was still better than I expected.

Much like my recent experience with shepherd's pie, I was nervous about putting all of my recipe eggs in one basket. So, I went back and forth between two recipes I found online: this one and this one.

I used:

• 2 large Napa cabbages, quartered and chopped into a combination of 1/2-inch little ribbons, and little squares. It's okay if the cabbage doesn't all look the same. It should definitely be a meatier cut than for coleslaw, though.
• 2 large daikon radishes
• 6 cloves garlic
• 3-inch knob ginger
• 1/2 large onion
• 1 cup red chili powder
• 1.5 cups sea salt or regular salt, plus extra for the first step
• 1.5 tablespoons kimchi base (I found a brand called Momoya at Fubonn)

Instructions (again, these are cobbled together from the two sources whose links I included above):

1. Place the cabbage pieces into a couple of gallon-sized bags, layer by layer, sprinkling a fair amount of salt between layers. So basically, add some cabbage to a bag. Reach your hand into the bag to sprinkle salt over all the cabbage. Repeat 2 or 3 times for each bag. You will probably use about 1/4-1/2 cup of salt total.

2. Let the cabbage and salt sit in the bags for a couple of hours (one of the recipes I read asks for the cabbage to sit for 5 hours. I found another one that asks for it to sit for 12 hours. I may try this next time, but I was doing this on a Monday night! I hedged my bets with 2.5 hours). Shake the bags around a couple of times.

3. While the cabbage is resting in the salt, prepeare the other ingredients: fine-chop the onion, mince (or press) the garlic and ginger, and peel and chop the radishes into 1/2-inch cubes.

4. Dump the cabbage from both bags into a colander and rinse really, really well.

5. Mix the chili powder, remaining salt, kimchi base, ginger, garlic, and about 1/2 cup of water together in a bowl. You may need to add more water - it should be sauce-y when it's all mixed up.

6. Dump the rinsed cabbage, onion, and radishes into a bowl big enough to hold everything when it's getting tossed around. Add the pepper sauce to the bowl, and stir, stir, stir!

Now comes the uncertain (for me, because I don't know any kimchi experts, or if I do they haven't revealed themselves) part.

I'm pretty sure the mixture needs to be fully immersed in liquid in order to ferment/pickle. My mixture didn't contain enough liquid as it was, so when I spooned it into the three containers I used, I added a little more water, salt, and kimchi base to each container and stirred the heck out of it until the mixture was pretty much covered in liquid.

Then, I crossed my fingers and let the containers sit on the counter for two days.

And, a week later...

Hey, it's pretty good! (below is a picture with flash - the red color shows up a little better). I stirred it into a noodle soup I made for dinner one night. It gave the soup the perfect amount of kick!