World to Table

Some people stuff turkeys. Others stuff peppers. Annie stuffs baby suckling pigs with 8 treasure rice. One of the most passionate people I know when it comes to cooking, Annie Leong is a cookbook author, avid home cook and a close friend to the Lin sisters (three sisters who are practically my aunts). What sets Annie apart is her dedication to create the PERFECT recipe — multiple baby pigs were sacrificed for the perfection of this dish, but trust me, they died for a worthy cause. Behold my encounter with the “Roast Suckling Pig Extraordinaire”!

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A few weeks ago, while I waited for Robyn and LeeAnne to arrive at the Underground Lobster Pound in Brooklyn (more informally known as Ben’s apartment) Ben and I got to talking about food bloggers. More specifically, Ben asked me why an overwhelming majority of food bloggers are: A. Asian and B. Female. Before I could give him an adequate answer, I had to think about it long and hard. Fitting both those categories, I have often thought to myself, why do I love food so much?

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Balut, an Asian delicacy popular in the Philippines, is a fertilized egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It is traditionally made with duck eggs, but balut also comes in the chicken variety. While I have an undeniable love for eggs — fried, boiled, scrambled, cooked any and every way, I had never considered eating an embryo until my Filipino friend Louie sang praises about balut. The idea of slurping a duck fetus straight from its shell both intrigued and frightened me. Sadly, during my summer in Asia, I never got to try any balut. But all of was not lost. My chance arrived two years later, in an email from Chef King of umi NOM. I clicked open the email and read:

“Duck Balut tonight @ umi nom!!!”

And just like that, I was headed to Brooklyn.

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On our second day in Taipei, my family and I, along with our three close family friends, set out on a journey in search for Taiwanese breakfast. A common Taiwanese breakfast consists of sweet or salty hot soymilk paired with some form of fried dough to dunk in it. That morning we gathered excitedly in the lobby and asked the hotel doorman to direct us to the nearest breakfast spot.

With a scribbled map at hand, we scaled the streets and alleyways near the hotel, but no Taiwanese breakfast was to be found. Stomachs were rumbling as the seven of us wandered desperately around what looked like the financial district, pulling aside locals and asking them where to find hot soymilk. Most were puzzled. Finally, Agnes made a quick decision for all of us. She shot her hand in the air to summon an approaching taxi.

“Where can we get hot soymilk?” she asked the driver.

“Oh, Soymilk King is very close”, he replied.

… Soymilk KING? Take us there, taxi driver!

The taxi driver’s “very close” translated into a city tour across Taiwan, through a tunnel and over a bridge. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived in a district even my dad had never been to, right in front of the famed Yong He Soymilk King (or just “Soymilk King” as I like to call it). Our eyes scanned the open air kitchen, and our ravenous expressions quickly changed to joy.

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Back from London and tired from bland British food, Hope had only one request when I asked her where she wanted to go out for lunch. “I need some SPICE!”, she pleaded. Somehow I managed to convince Hope and Davis to wake up early on a cold winter day and venture away from the comforts of Manhattan out into the inner depths of Queens for a taste of Sichuan cuisine.

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from Asia! I’ll be back in early January, jetlagged and 10 lbs heavier, with vivid details about my travels to Taipei, Hanoi, Hong Kong, Tokyo & Kyoto. See you in 2010!

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According to the Food Section, Italians are expected to eat 40 million panettone this holiday season. What is panettone? A holiday sweet bread originating from Milan dotted with dried fruit, usually rum raisins and bits of citron.

When the supermarket has red boxes of pre-packaged panettone stacked to the ceiling, it’s a strong indicator that the Holiday season is in full swing. Having heard tales of dry, stale and dense panettone, I’ve been hesitant to invest in some for myself. Luckily, my friend Gary, who works at Grandaisy Bakery, gifted me a loaf and I’ve been carving away at it like a turkey on Thanksgiving day.

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Wun•der•kam•mer (noun): 1. “wonder room” in German; 2. encyclopedic collections of types of objects whose categorical boundaries included natural history, geology, ethnography, archeology, religious or historical relics, works of art, and antiquities. Besides the most famous, best documented cabinets of rulers and aristocrats, members of the merchant class and early practitioners of science in Europe, formed collections that were precursors to museums.

Reinterpreting the original concept of the Wunderkammer, this new thread on World to Table is going to feature modern day (kitchen) cabinets of curiosities. It wasn’t until Talisa and I shared what we usually stock up in our respective kitchens, that I realized how different our pantries and cooking habits really were. Asparagus, couscous and ricotta are solid staples in her kitchen, while mine is almost never without an abundance of tomatoes, a loaf of Pullman bread, or a giant chunk of Parmesean. We’ll be exploring a wide range of cooking spaces — from the big to the small, from the sparse to the cluttered.

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This past Thursday, the sweet and savory aromas of Thanksgiving filled my apartment building. Through my bathroom vent, I can usually smell what the neighbors are cooking. Since the kitchen and bathroom vents in the building are conjoined, it often draws in odd yet strangely alluring scents to the apartment by way of the bathroom. Sometimes it’s waffles, bacon and Pantene Pro-V on Sunday mornings. In the evening it can be a medley of pot roast and spicy Thai curry. But it was Thanksgiving day, and most kitchens in the building were already whirring with activity by early afternoon. The familiar smells of sage, pumpkin, cinnamon, and roast poultry were not only coming in from the bathroom, but had managed to slip into the hallway as well, enveloping me with delicious aromas when I opened the door and walked to and from the elevator.

So, what was happening in my kitchen? Although I mentioned in my previous post that this year’s Thanksgiving was going to be an international affair, my sister Kelly and I have a strong attachment to traditional Thanksgiving dishes. Having to forgo the centerpiece of this holiday only meant that we had to compensate with side dishes. My parents, on the other hand, (who happen to conveniently live next door to us) are just not as attached to this holiday. Instead, they saw this holiday as an opportunity to put their culinary acumen to the test. They visualized a tasting menu with delicate portions and artfully plated miniature bamboo boats. Meanwhile, Kelly and I envisioned big plates piled a mile high with an orgy of food. How was Thanksgiving going to work? After some bickering over what was to be cooked for dinner, the four of us came to a compromise. And here was the result..

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I’d typically be brining and prepping a 10 pound flightless bird right now, but this year my parents made the executive decision that our Thanksgiving dinner will be a sans turkey endeavor. I know, this is quite sacrilegious for a holiday where the turkey usually plays a starring role. But, rather than wrestling with over-sized poultry, our efforts will be spent preparing a meal with a smattering of international fare, including Hainanese chicken, Scallops with Tomato-Onion Relish, Hamachi tartar, Cauliflower and Leek Soup, and a slew of Mark Bittman’s 101 simple Thanksgiving dishes, especially prepared by yours truly. Will these whirlwind of flavors work or will it be a Thanksgiving catastrophe? A full post-Thanksgiving progress report is to come, complete with accompanying recipes, so hang in tight.

In the meantime, while you lucky ones are wrestling with your turkeys at home, I recommend taking a break from basting to watch a few episodes of Posh Nosh on Youtube — a British TV program on BBC recommended to me by Elsapeth, the nicest bonnet wearing, bespectacled lady and owner of Podunk, a homey little nook of a tearoom in the heart of the East Village.

Podunk is where butter is used unsparingly and cookies are sprinkled with love..and sugar. Like a cross between an antique store and a cozy country house kitchen, a varying assortment of tea pots and children’s books populate the shelves, which sit beside the brightly painted wooden furniture and a sundry of knickknacks. Entering the tiny tearoom, I was transported from the dark, rainy streets of New York City into a warm, familiar place.

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