Tasteblazer

Why This Site Exists

This post is only indirectly related to food but concerns the other thing that's really important to me, and that's writing. 

Flashback to October of 2002:  I had spent the previous year writing for the student newspaper and loving it.  I reported and reviewed everything, from restaurants to concerts to books to film to theater.  Public speaking was not my forte, and I had found the newspaper to be the one forum where I could fully express myself. Then I became arts editorial assistant, and became sucked into all those responsibilities that had little to do with actual writing, like adjusting column inches, formatting photo captions, being a slave to Quark, and repeatedly chasing other writers to turn in their stories on time.  Life in the news office took up many hours.  Add in classes, a part-time job, dance practice, I had less and less time for actual writing.  The office became my second home.  I was getting no sleep and hadn't seen some of my suitemates in weeks.  All the while, the arts editor whom I would be replacing rubbed her hands with glee, counting down the minutes until her release from indentured servitude.  Finally, after weeks of late late production nights and little sleep, on the eve before I became arts editor, I quit.  Not just editorial duties, not just the newspaper, but writing as well.

Flashback to January of 2004:  My friend Sushrut was idling in my room, strumming on the guitar, while I looked for a fun easy class to take in my last semester of senior year. 

Sush: Hey, take the short fiction workshop with me. 
Me:  (thinking it's a dumb idea) That's a dumb idea.  I can't do creative writing.
Sush:  Why not?  You used to write for the paper.
Me: Well, I don't anymore.  I'm not cut out to be a writer.  (recalling guilt every time I pass the news office)
Sush:  Creative writing is different.  This class is, anyway. You submit a piece that you've put your heart and soul into and everyone tears it to shreds until every sentence has been criticized to the full extent.  (pauses in serene reflection) It's great.
Me:  And I want to take the class because...
Sush:  Do it.  DO IT.  It'll change your life.

To make a long story short(er), we both took the class, and I ended up working harder than I had ever worked before.  By the end of the second class, I realized he had been right, the whole part about it changing my life.  I'm not a big proponent of writing workshops in general, but they do force you to sit down and write, almost every single day.  And everyone commenting on your work, no matter how grueling it can be at times, just gives you amazing insight on what works and what doesn't. 

A year later, what I learned in that class has stayed with me.  Knowing what's problematic in your writing only fuels your drive to improve it, one day at a time.  I know now that I want to continue writing for the rest of my life, and I'll find some way of doing it every day, whether it be a short story, freelance article, or web post. 

So why today to detour from food?  Why today to write about writing? 

Sush moved away to Worchester after college for med school, so I don't get to see him much anymore.  But he'll always be the person who made me fall in love with writing all over again.  Tonight we talked very briefly and I found out he won a writing award for two amazing poems that are so vivid and insightful that they'll make you just sit back and reflect, whether you wanted to or not.  They have nothing to do with the website, but the beauty of the language and the love of the subject is something I will keep striving for, however long it takes me.

People are passionate about different things.  Cadavers may seem like a strange and trivial topic to some.  Food may draw the same reaction from others.  But as long as the person is writing with a lot of heart, who are we to judge?

The Hot Factor

 A question came up at dinner tonight, before we even got our food, as to why the ethnic restaurants in Boston as a whole don't really serve spicy food.  There's definately a handful of Indian, Thai, and Szechuan places around town that dole out entrees worthy of all those pepper graphics on the menu, but not many.  And I don't even have that high of a tolerance for the spicy stuff...just a medium level is satisfying enough.  (Case in point: at Tex-Mex joints, I toss a few jalapenos on my quesadillas; my friend Matt lines his with rows upon rows of jalapenos like they'e ready for battle.)  Are Boston restaurants really just catering the mild American palette?

I decided to check out Rani Indian Bistro in Coolidge Corner because I had heard it was one of the few places in Boston that served traditional South Indian cuisine.  (The others, Bhindi Bazaar in the Back Bay and Tanjore in Harvard Square, are also owned be Samir Majmudar and his wife.)  "Hyderabad, the "Pearl City of India, is famous for the opulence of its cooking and entertaining," the front of the menu reads.  "Taking elements from both Northern and Southern India, the Hyderabad style is a regal one of slow cooking and contrasts."  Sounded like it was as good a place as any to satisfy a spice lust.

Since beer is often recommended over wine for South Asian cooking, I ordered an Indian Kingfisher, recommended by a companion as "the most popular drink of choice in India."  We ordered the garlic naan as one of the appetizers, which was nicely puffed and topped with cilantro.  The other was the tomato coconut shorba, or soup.  It came with fried wonton-type chips and was delicious even after it cooled to room temperature. 

We tried a couple of the Hyderabadi style curries, those being the restaurant's specials.  The Bhindi ka Salan, fresh okra in a tamarind-based curry, was very good, and very rich and filling for a vegetable dish.  I wasn't, however, a fan of the Hussainey lamb, which was a lamb in a ginger and garlic curry, mostly because the meat was rather tough and dry.  The Kali-mirch ka Murg, chicken in black pepper sauce, was one of the better entrees, although it definately didn't warrant the double-pepper rating, the highest spice-level on the menu.  A tiny bit of kick?  Yes.  Made me dive for the Kingfisher?  No. 

The tandoori chicken was the only non-curry dish I tried.  It was barbequed well and served with a tangy raita yogurt, but not particularly amazing. 

The chicken with green mango, another Hyderabadi curry, was my personal favorite, partly for the sauce, which had a slight sweet and sour taste, and partly for the chicken itself, which came out even more tender than in the other chicken dishes.  If only they could have given the same care to the lamb. 

Honestly, despite the care they took to graphically indicate spiciness on the menus, I couldn't tell the difference by simply tasting the entrees themselves.  Each dish was flavorful in its own way, but virtually nondistinguishable when it came to heat.  (The okra, with one pepper, was just as spicy as the Kali-mirch, which was just a smidgeon hotter than everything else.)  Did the chefs perposely "dumb-down" our entrees because we were a mostly a group of non-Indians?  Is this racial profiling in the culinary sense? 

I would go back for the food, which is still pretty excellent.  And decor and atmosphere (one part romantic bistro, one part funky art gallery.)  But seriously, where can you go to get some tongue-searage in this town?

Rani Indian Bistro - 1353 Beacon St., Brookline

Sushi: The Perfect Post-Hike Lunch

 There are two types of people in this world.  First, there are those who want the best possible sushi, even if it means squeezing into a tiny hole-in-the-wall with no elbow room.  Then there are those who want their sushi in little boats, and other accessories of extravagant sushi houses.

I tend to identify with the former, but after a long hike on Sunday morning, we were too hungry to wait out the long crowds at Oishii in Chestnut Hill.  Instead, my fellow hikers and I and I drove over to Coolidge Corner, where the palatial Fugakyu was bustling with other raw-fish lovers but still had plenty of empty tables.  (How this craving came about I do not know, only that one minute I was communing with the outdoors, the next minute I was thinking I could really use a maki roll.  Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.)

The name may get you dirty looks if you say it too quickly, but it actually means "house of exquisite elegance."  The decor is elaborate almost to a fault.  It was a tad Disney-esque with bamboo everywhere and sushi boats (the only ones I know of in Boston, given our Puritan aesthete, or maybe just lack of space.)  But, as a former fine arts major, I must acknowledge my weakness for ornamentation, especially when it comes to tatami rooms and carved stone benches.  Kitsch can be charming if done right.

Fortunately, the atmosphere isn't Fugakyu's only draw.  The food is surprisingly good.  I'm sure the appetizers and entrees are good, and I'm sure I'll be back for them, but there were too many sushi options to try.  The salmon and tuna nigiri pieces.  The rainbow maki with avocado and spicy mayo topped with raw filets of salmon, tuna, and white fish.  The spider maki with shrimp and spicy mayo.  All were fresh, delicious, and very filling. 

It's easy to stick to a routine when eating at sushi restaurants, at least when it comes to me and whomever I happen to be eating with.  We always order the deluxe maki rolls because of the rich flavors, however unauthentic they are.  And salmon, tuna, and eel pieces, just out of habit.  But what makes sushi not only great but memorable? 

My favorite sushi type is eel, and I've had a lot of great homemade eel pieces in addition to restaurant ones, but the ones we had at Fugakyu were cooked to perfection with just the right amount of crisp at both ends.   

And the lobster maki rolls.  I don't think I have tasted fresher whole lobsters in my life, let alone tiny bits encased in rice and seaweed.   My only complaint is that the roll was much more expensive than the other rolls and at half the serving size (4 pieces.)

Despite what I've heard from some people that Fugakyu is overpriced, I didn't find it to be too much more than at other restaurants in Boston.  Three maki roll orders, and eight sushi pieces for the three of us came out to $21 per person, including tax and tip, and we didn't order from the lunch menu.  The rolls are large, so the amount we ordered could have easily fed four. 

And I think the two types of people would get along just fine here.

Fugaku - 1280 Beacon St., Brookline

Coconut-Cranberry Muffins

These are pretty simple to make, and should have taken me much less time than it did.  My problem is that when cooking or baking, I tend to halve the recipes since I'm usually cooking for one, unless it's a special occasion.  I do fine until about halfway through, when my absentmindedness starts bullying my mindedness, and takes over.  I forget that I'm halving the ingredients, and put in exactly what the recipe reads.  Then I realize my mistake and have to go back and double everything else.  (Did I mention I failed math a few times in high school?)

This is most likely some higher power telling me I shouldn't perform calculations while I'm in front of the oven, or perform calculations period.  Now I have a lot of muffins, and will most likely press them upon unassuming friends and relatives. 

So, a message to the aforementioned friends and relatives.  If you see knocking on your door bearing baked goods, be aware that the generosity and good-will is just a pretense.  I'm just really bad at simple math.

On to the recipe...

This I adapted from Cooking Light.  The coconut milk makes the muffins denser and less dry and cakey than if I had just used milk.  Any dry fruit would work in place of cranberries, but I think cranberries have the best sweet/sour combination to go with the coconut.

Coconut-Cranberry Muffins

Makes 1 dozen

2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups sweetened dried cranberries (I used Craisins, although the ones you can get at markets like Whole Foods and Trader Joe's tend to be more plump and juicy.  But Whole Foods isn't a block away from me, like the regular supermarket is, and beggars can't be choosers.)
2/3 cup light coconut milk
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 large egg (or two small eggs)
2 teaspoons sugar

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Combine first four ingredients into a large bowl, stirring with whisk.  The recipe says to stir in the cranberries with the flour mixture, which I did, but now I think it's a better idea to mix them in when the dry and wet ingredients are combined.  Reason?  The flour gets stuck in the tiny ridges of the cranberries and refuse to budge.  You don't want loose flour on your cranberries.  Mix them in later.

Combine the coconut milk through eggs into another bowl and whisk.  Add wet ingredients to the flour bowl and mix well with a spatula.

Line the muffin tin with muffin cups.  Spoon the batter onto the cups and sprinkle the tops evenly with the 2 teaspoons of sugar. 

Bake at 400 degrees for 20-25 minutes, or until the centers of the muffins spring back when you touch them (lightly.)  Remove muffins from the pans immediately and place them on a wire rack to cook.

Eat the rest of the Craisins because you know you can't resist them.

Spring to Henrietta's Table

I had wanted to try Henrietta's Table for a while, since it's known for being supportive of local farmers and use all seasonal ingredients.  The website even has interactive Farmer's Cards with pictures and stats.  And the restaurant logo is a smiling pig, at a place that counts pork chops as one of their specialties (I love the undertone of martyrdom.)  Oh, and the food is really good too.

I should have brought along my camera, since this ain't your average country kitchen.  The enormous dining space is tucked inside the Charles Hotel in Harvard Square, with a big open kitchen and rustic bar area that looks like someone's home.  In fact, the entire restaurant is supposed to be reminiscent of a farm house, except the minimalist aesthetic and large format photography lining the walls gives it a hip feel.  This is a restaurant both you and grandma will love.

Sundays through Thursdays the restaurant offers the Henrietta's Table Yard Sale, which is any appetizer, entree, and side dish for $23, or three courses and a side dish for $30. 

Having narrowed the appetizers down to either the Maine crab and corn Chowder and the spinach salad with fresh raspberries, goat cheese, and pecans, I decided to go for the latter, simply because I have a weakness for salads with hearty nuts.   Cumin was an unexpected flavor that coated the pecans, but it blended well with everything else in the salad.

The entree of wild king salmon was poached just right and strawberry compote added a nice spring flavor.  According to the website menu, if I were to go back in the fall when strawberries aren't in season, I would get the salmon with roasted apples and spiced cider instead.  Most likely another delicious flavor combo.

The asparagus side dish was a bad choice because it was over overcooked and still had sand grains in it.  Luckily, all the sides are served family style, so I got to have some of the crisp green beans too. 

Feeling stuffed, I wasn't planning on dessert, but the waiter's description of the Lemon Tart with Hazelnut Crust made it sound too irresistable.  They were very good salespeople, these waiters.  I'm not complaining, though, since the tart was delicious and came with even more fresh raspberries and a vanilla frisee. 

It was difficult to waddle home, but somehow I managed.

Henrietta's Table - 1 Bennett St., Harvard Square

Provençal Chicken with Garlic Roasted Potatoes

Nobody likes Mondays, the start of a long and boring work week.  Which makes it a great day to host a dinner, to make the fun of the weekend last one day more.  Not that I regularly host dinners, but I should, just to practice my cooking a bit more. 

I invited a couple of my cousins over for Season Six of Sex and the City (in my own defense, I have to say I have few other pop culture guilty pleasures.)  In honor of Carrie's flight to Paris with the ballerino Mikhail Baryshnikov (and yes, I looked up the spelling), I decided to make quelque chose française. 

The chicken recipe I adapted from Cooking Light, and the roasted potatoes from Barefoot Contessa Parties!  The best way to cook both is potatoes first, since they take longer to roast in the oven.

Provençal Chicken

Serves 4

4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
1 cup low-fat chicken broth
1 1/2 teaspoons herbes de Provence (a little hard to find, but try Whole Foods)
1 teaspoon butter
1 teaspoon lemon juice

Flat breasts are a good thing.  At least in cooking.  Chicken breasts cook better and more evenly if they are flattened to about half an inch, so place some plastic wrap over the meat and pound them flat with something heavy, like a meat mallet or rolling pin.  Uncover, and sprinkle both sides evenly with salt and pepper.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add the chicken and cook about 6 minutes on each side.  Remove from the pan and keep warm.

Add the garlic to the pan and cook about 1 minute, stirring constantly.  Pour in the broth and herbes de Provence.  Cover with a lid and bring to a boil.  Cook until the broth is reduce to about half the amount.  Remove from the heat and add lemon juice and butter, stirring until the butter is completely melted.  Spoon the sauce over the chicken. 

Garlic Roasted Potatoes

Serves 4

1 1/2 pounds of small potatoes (I used Yukon because they were handy, but go with the small red ones.  I can't remember what their official name is.)
1/8 cup olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoons minced garlic
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Mix the olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic in a bowl.  Chop the potatoes into halves or quarters and toss them in the bowl.  Mix them around until they're nice and coated. 

Spread the potatoes out onto a baking sheet.  Roast in the oven for an hour, turning them over every 10 to 15 minutes with tongs so they brown evenly on all sides.  Be careful not to have your oven racks set too low.  Mine were and the potatoes came out a bit more crisp than I would have liked.  Toss with minced parsley and serve with the chicken.

As for Carrie, she never made it to Paris.  Blockbuster neglected to inform me that I was only paying for the first DVD of the second half of the sixth season (confusing, I know), so we never got to the last few episodes.  Alors, c'est la vie.

Ensalada en Rojo

So you’ve just gotten back from a week of an all-out indulgent vacation and you start to notice that your pants don’t fit quite so nicely anymore.  You have just spent the day taste-testing endless amounts of chocolate as a part of your job training. (I know, it's a tough life).  You don’t want to skip supper, so what do you make? 

A salad!  But not just any salad.  One with a ham and beans and a nice thick red pepper dressing so rich in flavor and aroma that you won’t find yourself hungry again two hours later. 

Adapted from Food & Wine: Quick from Scratch Soup and Salads Cookbook.

Mixed Greens with Smoked Ham, Kidney Beans, and Roasted Red Pepper Dressing

Serves 4

1 red bell pepper (cut into thirds for easier heating)
½ garlic clove, smashed (recipe calls for a whole clove, which seemed excessive)
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
¼ cup olive oil
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon fresh-ground black pepper (I used coarse ground)
½ pound mixed salad greens
4 slices of smoked ham, sliced into small pieces
1 cup drained and rinsed kidney beans

1.    I cheated a little here.  I didn’t have a gas flame or grill handy to roast the pepper, so I just sautéed it in a pan over high heat.  But doesn’t “roasted” sound so much better?  (If you have a gas flame or grill, by all means, roast away.  Keep the pepper whole and watch that baby burn.)  Keep the pieces on the skillet skin down, for about 10 minutes, until the skin is blackened.   

2.    When the pepper is cool enough to handle, peel off the skin.  Because of the natural sensuous curves in the bell pepper, some parts are not going to be charred and will be more difficult to pull off (if you roasted it, this should not be much of a problem.)  Remove the stem, seeds, and ribs.
3.    In a blender, combine the roasted pepper, garlic, vinegar, salt, and black pepper.  Puree until the texture is smooth.
4.    Mix together the greens, ham, and kidney beans.  Divide onto four plates and spoon the sauce on top.  Admire the wonderful tapestry of colors.

The book says that the salad needs “a crisp and frankly fruity red to contrast its smoky flavors,” and recommends a Beaujolais.  I didn’t have a Beaujolais handy, but I did have a sparkling apple cider. 

The verdict?  I could have used less dressing, or more greens, since the pepper and garlic flavors were so strong.   You get the smoky flavor right away, but it takes about a minute or two for the sweet flavor to kick in.  So I highly highly recommend a drink with a fruit taste, for those important in between moments. 

Oh, I almost forgot the last step.

5.    Pat yourself on the back for your healthy eating.  March back into the kitchen and get yourself a nice bowl of ice cream.  After all, we musn’t forget our dairy.