My Asian-inspired pulled pork sandwich...yes, I dared!

I finally did it. On Sunday July 4th, after a few weekends of barbecuing on my Weber Performer (the last time, smoking a chicken), I got up the courage to use their massive 22-inch Smokey Mountain Cooker. I must admit to have been a little overwhelmed by its appearance. Intimidating, it looks like no other BBQ equipment I’ve ever used before. The encouraging thing is that I’m in good hands when it comes to barbecuing, my pitmaster friends always ready to offer some good tips at a moment’s notice.

Taking the bull by the horns, I decide to tackle the task at hand on my own at first. Following the instructions in the manual, I study Smokey from the bottom up, building the fire in the pit, filling the water pan with equal parts water and 100% fruit juice, and placing the spice-rubbed pork butts (top part of the shoulder), fat side down on the grates directly above. There is nothing more simple, quite frankly. It’s maintaining the temperature at 250°F for 12 hours for each of the 9-pound butts that can be tricky.

Weber's 22-inch Smokey Mountain Cooker...inexpensive, efficient, and user-friendly!

An attractive, well-constructed cooker, the Smokey looks like something between a barrel and a bullet, standing vertically with 3 vents equidistant from each other at the bottom, and one on the lid at the top directly opposite the thermometer. Aside from refueling halfway through the low-and-slow cooking process, the vents are key in controlling the temperature at a steady 250°F. The more open the vents are, the more air feeds the fire. The more closed they are, the less air gets in, choking the fire and lowering the temperature. I’m amazed at how this relatively inexpensive cooker performs. The heat is steady, and I barely have to adjust the temperature using the vents; may be a half a dozen times throughout the duration of this 12 or so hour exercise.

For someone like me who is extremely tactile and curious, keeping the lid closed throughout the cooking is definitely challenging. I want to see what’s happening, but any pitmaster will tell you “if you’re looking, you’re not cooking!” That makes sense, because if I wanted to check out the butts, as often as I do, the meat would be raw after 12 hours of cooking, from opening the lid too often. I’m not used to not looking, but this time, I decide to be patient, which definitely pays off in absolutely delicious pork butts, buttery in consistency with meat falling off the bones effortlessly. Registering at 195°F internally, I pull the meat, chop it, and stack it on a bun, topped with my hoisin-based BBQ sauce and Asian coleslaw, for my version of the classic American pulled pork sandwich.

From L to R: raw, rubbed, and smoked!

CT’S ASIAN FIVE-SPICE DRY RUB
(enough for two 9 to 10 pound pork butts)

1/3 cup sugar
1/4 cup kosher salt
2 tablespoon garlic salt
1 tablespoon Chinese five-spice
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
CT’s secret spice(s); every pitmaster has at least one!

Mix together well and sprinkle generously all over the pork butt or shoulder.

CT’s ASIAN BBQ SAUCE
(makes 2 cups; enough to moisten 24 pulled pork sandwiches)

1/2 cup hoisin sauce
1/4 cup rice vinegar
2 tablespoons mirin (sweet sake)
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil
2 tablespoons sriracha (smooth chili sauce)
1 ounce ginger, freshly grated
1 large garlic clove, freshly grated
1 scallion, minced
CT’s secret ingredient!

Whisk together well and drizzle over pulled pork sandwich

CT’s ASIAN COLESLAW
(makes a lot, enough for a small crowd!)

1/4 cup shiro-miso (white miso)
1/4 cup rice vinegar
2 tablespoons mirin
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil
2 tablespoons honey
2 teaspoons chili-garlic sauce
2 pounds shredded green cabbage
One 12-ounce bag shredded broccoli and carrot mix
1 small to medium onion, minced
1/2 large red bell pepper, finely chopped
CT’s secret ingredient

In a large bowl, stir together the miso, vinegar, mirin, chili-garlic sauce, oil, and honey. Add the cabbage, broccoli and carrots, onion, bell pepper, and toss well. Let macerate for 2 hours, tossing occasionally to redistribute the ingredients and dressing.

I can tell you that the recipes above are delicious even with a few ingredients missing. This wasn’t my idea, but I was told it is necessary and just the way it is in the BBQ world. You just never know when I might compete, and I wouldn’t want to come up against you with my recipes.

Beverage of choice…a cold beer!

Enjoy, as always!
CT

First BBQ Chicken with my Original Asian White Sauce!

As soon as it gets warm outside, the grills get fired up, and aromas waft through the air, from one neighbor’s backyard to the next. On this July 4^th weekend, I’m going to enjoy the fireworks, the company of friends, and parties with lots of food and wine. Indeed, on my side of the fence, I’m experimenting with barbecue flavored with Asian spices and condiments.

My goal this weekend is to cook low-and-slow over indirect heat and create a new kind of barbecue, one incorporating Asian ingredients, omitting the traditional ones, and all the while staying with the basic principle of balancing spices and herbs over a canvas of salt and sugar.

My Weber Performer definitely performed!

Last night I created my very own white sauce based on Big Bob Gibson’s Bar-B-Q Original White Sauce in Decatur, Alabama, where it was invented and made popular.  While the original uses mayonnaise as its base, mine uses coconut milk, and the rest of the ingredients are just as different. The one basic rule still remains, however. It’s tangy, sweet, and salty and ever so slightly bitter and spicy. Otherwise said, it’s balanced!

CT’S ORIGINAL ASIAN WHITE SAUCE

coconut milk, fish sauce, ginger, garlic, shallot, curry, rice vinegar, oh my...

(about 2-1/4 cups and good for a 4-pound roaster!)

2 cups coconut milk
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons fish sauce
1 tablespoon curry powder (or garam masala)
1 ounce ginger, freshly grated
1 large garlic clove, freshly grated
1 large shallot, freshly grated
1 teaspoon chili paste (optional)

Marinate the chicken in the white sauce for 12 hours, refrigerated.

Preparing the Weber Performer for indirect heat cooking, I’m preheating the grill to 325°F for 20 minutes, the charcoal baskets filled halfway up with Kingsford briquettes.

Once you see white ash, push the charcoal baskets off to one side of the grill, leaving the other side void.

soak apple wood chunks in the water-juice concoction...why not?!

For extra flavor, soak some apple wood chunks for a couple of hours and throw them on the hot charcoal. Place an aluminum pan filled with equal parts water and 100% fruit juice (apple, white grape, or pineapple, for example) underneath the grill grate, with the chicken skin side up on the grate and directly above the pan. Cook, with lid down for about 1 hour. Baste with marinade and return bird, turning it 180° (so the legs are now closer to the heat source) to the pit covered with lid for another 45 minutes to 1 hour until done, which means when the joints are loose and you can twist them easily. If you prefer, stick a thermometer in the bird and when the temperature reaches 160°F in the breasts and 175°F in the thighs, pull it out, let it rest for 15 minutes, and enjoy this succulent bird with a big salad on the side.

partying and barbecuing for the next few days...tongs in one hand, wine in the other!

Now my friend, well-known pitmaster and best-selling author Chris Lilly, always says “if you’re opening the lid, you’re not cookin’.” Well that’s true, but considering how tactile and curious I am, barbecuing “the right way” is challenging for me. Patience is definitely a virtue and I’ve been put to the test.

…and now off to buy more meat and charcoal! Pork shoulder is in my (and your) near future. Firing up Smokey tonight around midnight for some pulled pork sandwich tomorrow for lunch. It comes with a little of this and that, and a bit of hoisin BBQ sauce on the side, please!

Happy 4^th of July, y’all y’all…

CT

flipping meat back and forth every few minutes will ensure even cooking throughout, a beautiful golden color, and no burning! (it's almost there, another 5 to 10 minutes and I'm digging in.)

It’s lunch time and a rack of lamb, trimmed French-style, seasoned with a sweet and savory Chinese five-spice rub, sounds really good served with a mixed green and fresh herb salad. This is a perfect meal that is neither too light nor too heavy but just right and satisfying.

Charcoal baskets filled and set inside my Weber Performer, I fire up the grill and let the flames settle. Like all cooking techniques, grilling  requires some imagination and close attention. I don’t just throw a good piece of meat on a hot grate and leave. Any good meat has a fair amount of fat, which will cause flare ups, and I’m not really looking for an amazing cut like a rack of lamb to be engulfed in flames and charred beyond recognition. When grilling over direct heat I like to doctor the meat, meaning keep a close watch while flipping it back and forth so as to distribute the heat evenly throughout while crisping it to a rich golden color. (The alternative is burnt meat, which tends to taste bitter and is considered a carcinogen, which I would imagine is undesirable!).

I love grilling lamb, more so than roasting or braising it. Gamy in flavor, it’s enhanced with a

a refreshing summer salad helps digest the heavier part of the meal, in this case a delicious rack of lamb!

subtle smokey flavor that pairs well with the spices used. I have to admit that this Chinese style spice rub is something I am still developing, which is why this weekend I’ve applied it to a small portion of meat cooked over direct heat in preparation for the big July 4th weekend when I’ll be doing brisket, pork shoulder, and ribs. I’m a bit nervous because so far it’s an experiment. I’m playing with Asian spices, which for the most part, tend to be more pronounced than those used in classic American BBQ dry rubs. Additionally, in Asia, herbal pastes are used in combination with dried spices to flavor meats such as the popular skewered meats known as satay. While I test the waters, I’ll be light handed to make sure that at the very least I’m going in the right direction. Here I’ve combined both wet and dry ingredients. Nothing fancy, but definitely delicious! Check out the recipes below:

CT’s Simple Asian Dry Rub

(makes about 1/4 cup)

2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons salt
1 tablespoon Chinese five-spice powder

In a small bowl, mix the sugar, salt, and five-spice powder thoroughly.

CT’s Five Spice Rack of Lamb
(serves 4, or less!)

2 racks of lamb
2 large garlic cloves, peeled and grated
1 ounce ginger, peeled and grated
CT’s Simple Asian Dry Rub (see above)

1) Preheat the Weber Performer for 15 minutes.

2) Meanwhile rub each rack with grated garlic and ginger, then sprinkle the dry rub generously on both sides. Shake access rub off and place racks over direct heat, fat side down. Turn every 2 minutes to desired doneness and until golden crisp. Lamb is best when cooked medium rare, or medium.

CT’s Leafy Green Mix
(serves 4)

1 cup tatsoy
1 cup arugula
8 large red oak leaf, each torn into 3 to 4 pieces (don’t tear them too small or they will wilt quickly)
4 leaves curly endive, each torn into 6 to 8 pieces
8 fresh herb leaves (cilantro, parsley, mint, tarragon, etc…torn if leaves are too large
1 ripe avocado, chopped
2 to 3 tablespoons rice vinegar
3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon or more dark honey
freshly ground salt and pepper to taste

In a large wooden shallow bowl, toss the leafy greens and herbs together. Drizzle with rice vinegar, followed by olive oil. Dip a fork into the honey jar, letting most of it drip back in. Guide the fork back and forth over the mixed greens so as to distribute the honey all over. Season with salt and pepper and let stand for 15 minutes. Do not toss or the leaves will wilt quickly. Instead let the vinegar and oil trickle down in between the leaves.

This is an easy, elegant, and satisfying meal that can be thrown together in 20 minutes or less. I made this for a friend of mine who walked away with a smile spanning from one ear to the other. I think it’ll make yours happy too!

bon appétit!
CT

crowded by Big Bob Gibson's

It’s 1 AM and I’m finally home, showered and in bed “resting my trotters,” as pitmaster Chris Lilly would say. It’s been a long 15-hour day of pulling and chopping close to 200 pork butts (top of the shoulder) to make thousands of the famous Big Bob Gibson pulled pork sandwich. Down to the last few sandwiches at around 4:30 PM this afternoon, Don MacLemore, grandson of the late Big Bob himself, walked down the line of hungry patrons, counting heads and keeping the few lucky ones while turning away the rest telling them, “come back tomorrow early!” This is my second year on the team and in my experience, cookers loaded to the max, we’ve always run out of pork butt early. The meat is that special.

Chris Lilly squirting his secret spicy vinegar concoction and couldn't wait until I was finish chopping!

It’s truly an honor to be here and there’s not one part of my job I don’t love when working this event. Sure, it’s hard work—I’d be lying, if I said that my body didn’t ache right now—but the company is such that every aspect of it is fun as well. Our assembly line is solid. Some of us unload the pork, while others inject, or rub, or load the cookers. And when that’s done, we make the coleslaw. I like to do a bit of everything because every time I do, I learn something new.

chopped and ready for the pulled pork sandwich assembly line

Tonight I picked up on a detail that is almost foreign to me. My attitude has always been “a little bit of this and that” in the kitchen. Something I learned from my grandmother who never measured anything but whose food was sublime. When it comes to barbecue, however, Chris always preaches precision. And while he too goes by feel, his approach is to never leave anything to chance. The ingredients are always the same, and measuring them is key. “The only way you can hope to win in competition is if your product is consistently great.” He’s a champion several times over, so he should know.

after a long day of pleasing the crowd, more injecting and rubbing to be done for the next day...

As we prepare the meat for the last day of this event, Chris will call out “3 full syringes into each shoulder.” For rubbing he’ll make sure the rub has gone all over “except for the flap.” And when it comes time to chop, he’ll feel each hot butt in the cooker until he finds one that “gives just right,” meaning until the meat giggles and falls off the bone. It’s an art and he breathes it. Enthralled by this experience, I begin to imagine my own pork butt loaded with my special Asian-inspired BBQ injection liquid and spice rub. Soon, I’ll be doing more than imagining. Stay tuned!

…and if you haven’t had a Big Bob Gibson pulled pork sandwich, stop by 27th and Madison. It’s worth the wait, but like Don MacLemore says, come early. We start serving at 11 AM until we run out!

(photography © by Anthony Quintano. All rights reserved.)

Vietnamese-inspired Surf 'N' Turf, lemongrass-infused head-on jumbo shrimp and pork chops with mango salad and Asian greens on the side...

Impromptu dinners are fun, especially when you can enjoy them outdoors. In a sort of “Iron Chef” fashion I go to my fridge and take a look at what I can throw together for dinner in the spur of the moment, and in a half hour with what is readily available. And since I never know who is going to show up at my door (family or friends, or both, and all with different food preferences), I always have a loaded fridge. For Asian-inspired meals, my arsenal includes ginger, scallion, and garlic, along with fish sauce, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, shiro-miso (”white” soybean paste), coconut milk, five-spice, and sriracha, a chili and garlic sauce. Lemongrass, cilantro, and mint, and when available Thai basil, I also have on hand.

mango salad and farm-fresh tatsoy...and Brett!

This summer, I’ll also be enjoying the farmers market every Thursday in Westport, CT. This week, the tatsoy was looking so good, I bought a little over a pound to complement a mango salad and Vietnamese-inspired Surf ‘n Turf, head-on jumbo shrimp with 1-inch thick cut pork chops. That’s right in Southeast Asia, seafood is so abundant and pork so inexpensive that they are often combined. And this is a protein combo that will not break the bank, unlike the classic (albeit, delicious) lobster and beef filet mignon version.

Weber's Touch-N-Go Ignition system...reliable and efficient!

My friend Brett is over for dinner tonight and is watching me cook, though like many guys, quickly notices the equipment. He walks over to the Weber Performer and starts drooling as he scans the apparatus. Meanwhile, I’m knee deep in fish sauce, sugar, and vinegar. “I don’t get it,” he says, “It’s a charcoal grill but it’s got a propane tank?” So in my how-to-impress-a-guy style, I confidently download the technical stuff. “Yep! You turn the gas knob counterclockwise one full turn, push the ignition button and voilà! It’s all fired up and ready to go!” And with that, my charcoal starts smoking in no time at all. “Then you turn the gas knob clockwise all the way to shut off the gas, and watch your charcoal continue to burn and turn whitish-gray. That’s what you look for before you put the meat on the grill.”

He also notices the Smokey Mountain Cooker next to the Performer, and says “that too?” and with a grin I say, “oh yeah, I’ll be smokin’ this summer. I can load up about 60 pounds of meat, no problem! You’ll have to come back for that “

And while taking a whiff of the fish sauce almost sent him flying over the railing of my deck as he uttered the words “What the heck…” Apparently, it was a scent he had not encountered before. “A nice chilled beer, perhaps?” I asked, and we continued our evening, sharing a delicious dinner en tête-à-tête. I even got him to suck the juice out of the shrimp heads. The pork chops were deliciously pink in the center and a nice counterpoint to the sour, sweet, and spicy mango salad and refreshing farm-fresh tatsoy. And, he cleaned his plate!

CT’s BASIC SOUTHEAST-ASIAN LEMONGRASS MARINADE (for all sorts of meats and seafood, especially delicious with pork chops and shrimp! This is enough marinade for 1 pound of shrimp and 2 thick cut pork chops. Serves 2 to 4)

1/3 cup fish sauce
1/4 cup palm sugar (or regular)
1 tablespoon grapeseed (or vegetable) oil
1 large garlic clove, grated
1 lemongrass stalk, trimmed, outer bruised leaves removed, stalk grated (from purple to light green parts, about 8 to 10 inches)

In a bowl whisk the fish sauce and sugar until completely dissolved. Add the oil, garlic and lemongrass.

TIP: dealing with head-on shrimp. Cut through the back side of the shrimp to devein, but leave the shells and head intact. The shells will add flavor and keep the meat from burning. The head is full of delicious tomalley. Enjoy it!

Marinate for 20 minutes and grill over direct heat at first so as to crisp, then continue over indirect heat to finish cooking.

CT’s SOUTHEAST ASIAN SOUR MANGO SALAD (serves 2 to 4)

3 tablespoons fish sauce
3 tablespoons palm sugar (or regular)
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon or lime juice, or rice vinegar
2 unripe, hard to the touch mangoes, peeled and shredded
2 red Thai chilies, seeded, and sliced into thin rings
a few freshly torn Thai basil leaves, or cilantro or mint leaves for the garnish
a sprinkling of freshly crushed roasted, unsalted peanuts for the garnish (optional)

In a medium bowl, whisk together the fish sauce, citrus juice or vinegar, and sugar until the sugar is completely dissolved. Add the mango and chilies, and toss. Let stand for 10 minutes and drain. Transfer the salad to a serving bowl and garnish with the fresh basil, cilantro, or mint.

Enjoy these new recipes this Summer and don’t forget to come back next week when we explore lamb, Asian-style!

CT

I’m excited that Memorial Day Weekend is finally here. For me, it marks the end of a harsh Winter and wet Spring, and the beginning of the bright hot Summer ahead. It also means firing up the grill just about everyday from now until Fall.

I think it’s fair to say that BBQ is all the rage these days. It’s been in the news for the last several years in a big way, and touted as a culinary tradition that can be as complex and refined as French or Chinese cooking, for example. I’ve tasted, seen, and engaged in lively and passionate conversations, and agree that barbecue is no small subject with regional variations to satisfy just about any palate. In the Winter of 2009, TLC launched a new show, “BBQ Pitmasters,” which followed such industry greats as Chris Lilly, Harry Soo, and Myron Mixon in their quest for first place on the competition circuit, and heightened its popularity.

I’ve often dreamed of hauling a massive BBQ rig with an equally massive pick-up truck, but the cost can be prohibitive and unless I plan on competing several times a year (which may happen!), it’s just not practical. Besides, light, affordable, efficient, and reliable, I hear Weber does well in competition.

For well over a decade, I’ve grilled on Weber’s classic charcoal kettles including the One Touch Gold and Ranch, which I used to test the recipes in my cookbook, The Asian Grill (Chronicle Books, 2006). I keep going back to Weber because the equipment is easy to assemble, use, and clean. It’s also long lasting, readily available (check out your local hardware store!), and affordable compared to many brands on the market. I also love their huge line of accessories including skewers, mittens, spatulas, and pizza stone (yes, my Chinese scallion pancakes and Indian parathas will be cooked on one this summer), rib racks, roasters, and more. The product is solid on every level.

This weekend I’m grilling on The Performer for the first time. It’s similar to the 22.5-inch One Touch Gold kettle in construction, but features Weber’s signature “Touch-N-Go” ignition system, which requires no lighting fluid. A bit apprehensive at first about connecting the propane tank to the gas connection, I am surprised at how easy it is to install. Tight fitted, it’s perfectly safe not to mention convenient, with the charcoal lighting up in less than 5 minutes, and gray ash appearing in just 15 minutes more. It’s fast, if not faster than using my favorite chimney, and I only had to fill each baskets three quarters of the way with charcoal to cook a meal “serves 4 to 6.”

So here I am on the Friday night of this long holiday weekend, with Kingsford Charcoal Briquets (efficient and long lasting, you only need a few) burning hot in the baskets pushed off to the sides of the kettle, I start the drumsticks over direct heat to crisp them lightly, then move them to the center for some indirect heat action. The cover down to enhance the flavor of this soy-sauce ginger, and five-spice-marinated chicken, I’m now staring at the bok choy on my kitchen counter thinking, “grill them…” and I do using Weber’s Vegetable Basket. Seasoned lightly with sesame oil, salt and pepper, I serve the bright green, crunchy and tender leaves along with mushroom fried rice as sides. Check out the recipes below:

RECIPE 1: Five-Spice Soy Sauce Marinade (excellent for chicken, beef, pork, duck, venison, buffalo, and ostrich. You canalso include 1 teaspoon per 6-ounce burger…just mix it into the meat and shape the patty.)

1/3 cup soy sauce

1/4 cup palm sugar (or regular sugar)

1 ounce ginger, finely grated (about 1-inch piece)

1 large garlic clove, finely grated

1 scallion, trimmed and minced

2 Thai chilies, seeded and minced

1 teaspoon five-spice powder

1) In a bowl, whisk the soy sauce and sugar, until the sugar is completely dissolved. Stir in the ginger, garlic, scallion, chilies, and five-spice powder.

2) With a fork, poke holes all over the drumsticks. Add to the marinade, tossing every 10 minutes for 30 minutes.

3) Place on the grill directly over the charcoal for 5 minutes, turning the pieces often so as not to burn them. Then move them away from the charcoal, to continue over indirect heat until the juices run clear, about 15 minutes more.

RECIPE 2: Grilled Bok Choy (both white and green stem, the latter also know as “Shanghainese” bok choy)

1-1/2 pounds baby bok choy, or other leafy greens

2 teaspoons grapeseed oil

2 teaspoons sesame oil

salt and pepper to taste

In a large bowl, toss the bok choy with oils and salt and pepper. Transfer to the Weber Vegetable Bastket and place on the grill directly over the charcoal. Stir-fry as you would in a wok, so as not to burn the vegetables. Cook until tender yet firm, about 10 minutes.

RECIPE 3: Mushroom Fried-Rice with Shitakes

2 tablespoons grapeseed oil

1 large garlic clove, minced

4 large dried shitake mushrooms, soaked in water until soft, stems removed, and caps julienned

3 cups cooked brown jasmine rice

In a large skillet or wok over high heat, add the oil and stir-fry the garlic and mushroom until fragrant and golden, about 3 minutes. Add the rice and continue to stir-fry until hot. Serve with grilled vegetables and marinated chicken.

…and there you have it, a delicious first dinner grilled on my favorite equipment.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend, my Friends! Come back next Friday for more recipes. I’ll be exploring a Vietnamese-inspired “surf ‘n turf!”

Bon appétit!

CT

wonton noodle soup with choy sum and scallions

A Steaming Bowl of Wonton Noodle Soup with Choy Sum and Scallions…

I’ve been going to Wonton Garden, a small noodle shop in Manhattan’s Chinatown, since I moved to New York City from my quaint little hometown of Blois, France over 30 years ago.  Located on Mott, the neighborhood’s busiest street, the shop has always had a window glass façade where the cook can be seen turning out wonton soup after wonton soup for hours on any given day. So enticing is watching this man cooking that I’ve gone in for a serving of these delightful morsels more times than I can count…and every time I go back, sit down at a table, and order a steaming bowl of wontons in broth, I am instantly reminded of my first encounter with the place.

fresh wonton, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

I visited New York City for the first time in 1978 during what was to be my summer vacation. (That summer vacation turned out to be a permanent situation!) My father, Minh, had been working in Manhattan’s Chinatown since 1977, and my mother decided that my brothers and I should make the trip from France to visit him. It had been almost a year since we had seen him. He had moved here to help his childhood friend Anh, my “uncle,” who had a wholesale produce business in a building on Lafayette at the corner of Delancey, and just south of the small and somewhat triangular-shaped Cleveland Park. And while today the tiniest block in Manhattan where this building stands is now home to a Mexican restaurant on one side, a furniture store on the other, and a Spanish specialty food shop on the next, back then it was my father’s workplace, a huge warehouse full of Asian vegetables in crates, moved around on fork lifts and stacked up high.

step 1, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

While Dad worked, my mother would drag us kids around town to visit all the major attractions the Big Apple had to offer. For hours we would stand on long lines for the chance to go up the Statue of Liberty, the Chrysler building, the Empire State building, and the Twin Towers. But my favorite part about being in the city was that eventually I knew we’d meet up with Dad for a great meal or some fun snack in a bakery. We could be eating the deliciously crispy skin of a Peking duck, indulging in a fresh-out-of-the-fish-tank seafood dinner, having a simple sweet roast pork bun golden-baked and just out of the oven or spongy white direct from the steamer…or freshly made wontons, one of my all time favorite foods.

On the way to Wonton Garden, my father would get excited. “It’s the best wontons, and for a couple of bucks, you can’t beat it,” he would say with a smile, making the point that he had arrived in the U.S. with $100 in his pocket, a story he tells over and over again to this day. Having worked hard all his life in order to live comfortably he appreciated good value…but he also loved home-cooked meals, something he had been missing since leaving France, and Chinatown was full of family-run restaurants offering all sorts of comfort food he longed for.

step 2, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

When we finally reached the restaurant, the first thing we did as a family was to stand in front of it, watching the cook in action. First he would add wontons in a huge vat of boiling water. After a couple of minutes, using a Chinese long-handled “spider” strainer, he would then transfer them to a large soup bowl, which sometimes (upon request and for a more filling meal) also contained thin long egg noodles he had cook in the same boiling water. With a large ladle, the cook would then pour the piping hot broth over the wontons. He was so fast that some of the broth would spill off the sides of the bowl. (As a result of watching this cook as a kid, I’ve always appreciated open kitchens, especially the action that goes on in them.) And now it was time to go in…

step 3, photo by Christopher Hirsheimer

Once seated, the waiters gave a performance of their own. Everything was rushed as they walked around screaming the orders across the dining room to the cooks, while seating and serving people. This was no fine French dining experience, but it was just as exciting. And though the waiters may not have been the most courteous people to deal with, the distinct aroma of sesame oil permeating the air, making my mouth water instantly, would turn my attention away from them and toward the food. What I loved most about that experience was listening to the excitement in my father’s voice as he ordered a round of wonton soup for the family. As we were served, my father would go on to describe the meal we were about to enjoy…the wontons made with the “perfect“ amount of naturally sweet pork and shrimp filling, wrapped in the “perfect“ delicate skin, served in the “perfect“ light chicken broth perfumed with roasted sesame oil, and garnished with the “perfect“ amount of thinly sliced bright green scallions and choy sum, a long-stemmed leafy green vegetable. He would also point to the “perfect“ fried red chunky chili oil, adding a small amount to the broth. Piping hot, we would eat the wontons with gusto, sipping the broth in between each bite to clear our palates.

The Wonton Garden was the very first restaurant I went to in Chinatown, and when I go back occasionally or I make wontons at home, I get nostalgic and all I want to do is share this overwhelming feeling I call “food joy” with friends (see recipe below).

CT’S  FAMILY WONTON RECIPE – adapted from Essentials of Asian Cuisine (Simon & Schuster, 2003) and Noodles Every Day (Chronicle, 2009)

Serves 6

2 teaspoons dark sesame oil
2 tablespoons thin soy sauce
1 tablespoon tapioca starch or cornstarch
Freshly ground black pepper
1-1/2 pounds small headless tiger shrimp, peeled, deveined, and minced
8 ounces coarsely ground pork
72 square (or round) dumpling wrappers

1)   In a bowl, stir together the sesame oil, soy sauce, and tapioca starch until well blended. Season with pepper to taste, add the shrimp and pork, and mix thoroughly.

2)   Take a wrapper and put a heaping teaspoon of pork mixture in the center. Dab the edge lightly with water and seal to form a triangle (or half-moon if using a round wrapper). Bring the two ends together, dabbing each with water and pressing firmly. Place on a lightly floured cookie sheet, and continue making wontons with the remaining filling and wrappers. Be sure to place the wontons in a single layer, keeping them separated.

3)   Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat, and cook the wontons until they float to the top, about 3 minutes. Using a slotted spoon transfer and divide the wontons among 6 large soup bowls. At this time you can eat them as you would all sorts of dumplings, with soy sauce and chili sauce on the side for dipping. Or serve them in chicken broth (see below)

CT’S QUICK ASIAN CHICKEN BROTH: put a 2 to 3 pound whole chicken in a large stock pot, with 5 bruised scallions and 1 ounce (about 1 inch) piece of thinly sliced fresh ginger. Add water to the pot and up to 1-inch from the top. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low and simmer until reduced by 1/3, 3 to 4 hours. Strain, discarding the solids. Pour over wontons, and garnish each serving with some sliced fresh scallions.

CT’S FRIED WONTONS: an American-Chinese restaurant favorite is the fried wonton. Heat a small-medium pot filled halfway with oil over medium heat. Working in batches fry the wontons until golden crisp and done on the inside, about 2 minutes. Drain on paper-lined plate and serve with soy sauce and chili sauce on the side.

Jeanne, "Mamie," about to celebrate her 100th birthday

Growing up in France meant spending time in the kitchen with Grandma…

I grew up in France’s Loire Valley in a little town called Blois. My parents owned a bar and worked all day and late into the evenings, and as a result I was often with my French grandmother, Jeanne (pronounced ZHAAN). On June 11th, 2009 she will be celebrating her 100th birthday. And while I will not be returning to France for her special day, she is on my mind. Growing up, I spent a lot of time in her kitchen, by her side, watching her cook. She no longer cooks today but the delicious scents that have permeated her kitchen over the years, I recall vividly.

I found great comfort in watching her cook anything and her food always tasted of love…she had that special touch, and I couldn’t wait to get out of school and run home to her everyday because of it. Her greeting was always the same…“que veux-tu manger au goûter?” And as she asked what I wanted for my afternoon snack, the butter was already melting to a hazelnut brown in her old blackened aluminum skillet. And with that she’d hand me a piece of fresh baguette that was crusty on the outside and soft on the inside. “Allez, manges ma cherie!” and I would scoop up that delicious browned butter with gusto.

A short, plump woman, always in a dress or skirt but never pants, with short light brown hair, Mamie (pronounced MAH-MEE), as I called her, had a wonderful go-by-feel approach to cooking.  Probably something she shares with many in her generation. She didn’t know it, but an important lesson I learned from her was to trust my instincts using all of my senses as she did when putting together her meals. These meals, though simple in preparation always included an appetizer, entree, salad, cheeses, and dessert with coffee, tea, or digestif…in that order. And while breakfast was served when ever I woke up, lunch was at exactly noon, and dinner at 7pm sharp by habit and not because we were hungry, necessarily. I used to watch her look at the clock to make sure she was on schedule. Slowly she’d turn away from what ever she happened to be doing at the moment (she loved bidding on horse races, for example, a favorite pass time in France) and put on one of her dainty colorful aprons, then off she’d be in perpetual motion until the table was set and the food was served.

boudin noir before crisping!

Mamie would always start by spreading the food she was about to prep on the kitchen table. As she opened each package, she would look at me and smile. The excitement on her face when she unwrapped boudin noir (black pudding, or blood sausage made with pork blood and fat) fresh from the local charcutier was such that she’d chuckle. Soon she’d reach under her kitchen sink to grab an onion from her basket. If it was nice out, Mamie would walk out onto her balcony overlooking her beautiful garden she’d taken years to plant. Her utensils were not fancy at all. They were the bare minimum…“ce qu’il faut!” In fact I remember her using a pairing knife to prep just about anything from chicken to carrots to herbs, and any number of ingredients. And so she stood over her table, either in the kitchen or on the balcony, peeling onions, cutting them in half, and slicing each half into thin, equal wedges, never using a cutting board, but holding on to the bulb with one hand while sliding the short blade through the layers with the other. Sweet or tart apples, depending on the kind she happened to have, would make it into the dish, peeled, cored, and unevenly cut.

That same skillet she would use to melt the butter for my goûter, Mamie would use to sautee the onions until caramelized. Transfering the onions to a plate, the apples would be next. Adding a little butter and a touch of sugar, especially if the apples were tart, the cut up apples were cooked down until soft and golden. I liked that the apple pieces were different sizes. As a result some were soft, and some less so for a nice contrast in texture. Like the onions, she would transfer the apples to the same plate. The boudin noir would make it into the skillet next, but only after Mamie would slice a piece off and taste it fresh, meaning precooked in simmering water. When the casing of the boudin noir was finally crispy and cracked open a bit, she would take it off the heat and serve it with the sweet golden onions and apples, seasoned with fleur de sel and freshly cracked black pepper. And like every kid growing up in France, I got to have wine with my meal…or water stained with Chinon!

If you asked her what the recipe was, Mamie would say “boudin noir, onion, pommes, sel et poivre…c’est tout!” So read carefully, the recipe is included here.

My comfort food may be different from yours, but the instant warm and fuzzy feeling we get when we eat what comforts us, must be mutual. It’s an all around good feeling that lingers at least until the last bite and perhaps a little beyond. My comfort food often takes me back to my childhood memories…

I’ve had a recurring dream since I was a little girl of my Chinese grandmother in Cambodia. It goes something like this…I’m about two years old, dressed in a lacy white top with black pants, my soft black hair in pig tails bouncing as I sway my head back and forth. Smiling and cute as a button with dimples in my cheeks, I kneel in front of a small chair, awaiting my grandmother. Huong is her name, and she appears to be walking from the kitchen toward me. In her hands, she carries a big bowl of freshly made rice noodles with ground pork and dried shrimp set afloat a steamy crystal clear broth. Fragrant with freshly torn saw leaf, scallions, preserved cabbage, and bean sprouts, and drizzled with garlic oil and a freshly squeezed wedge of lime, it’s called kwayteo, my favorite noodle soup. She sets the bowl on the seat of the chair which is just tall enough for me to reach comfortably while propped up on my knees. Bamboo chopsticks in hand with ceramic Chinese spoon in the other, I proceed to eat my noodles, slurping them while sipping the broth loudly. It’s a good dream.

My parents, older brother, and I left Cambodia when I was just shy of three years old. We had moved there from France when I was barely six months old. I don’t remember a thing about my childhood in Cambodia, yet this dream has haunted me for decades. A few years ago, I finally admitted to my mother that I had been having this dream for years.  When I asked her about it, she mentioned that when we were kids, we were not allowed to talk at the table. The adults talked, and we, the kids, listened. My parents always reminisced about life in Phnom Penh, and it was most likely during these family meals that I started picking up on details from stories told. For the longest time I thought it was all made up, but she reassured me that on many occasions, my grandmother served me food, and that it was very likely that she served kwayteo, which I’ve been having just about every Sunday—come rain or shine, whether it is hot or cold outside—ever since I can remember.

When I asked my mom why that dream was always in black and white, she told me that it was most likely because many of our family photographs of Cambodia were in black and white.

CT’S KWAYTEO
serves 6

2 pounds ground pork
1/2 cup medium dried shrimp, soaked in water for 20 minutes and drained
8 scallions, 4 trimmed and crushed, and 4 trimmed and thinly sliced
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 head garlic, cloves peeled and minced
1 cup preserved Tien Tsin cabbage (optional)
1 cup coarsely chopped culantro or cilantro leaves
4 red Thai chilies, stems and seeds removed, pods thinly sliced
2 cups fresh mung bean or soybean sprouts
1 lime or lemon, sliced into 6 wedges lengthwise
1 pound rice sticks, soaked in water until pliable
Fish sauce

Bring 3 quarts water in a stockpot to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low. Working in batches, put some pork into a ladle, and breaking the meat up with a spoon, release it into the water. Repeat with the remaining meat, and add the shrimp and crushed scallions. Continue to simmer the stock, partially covered, until reduced by 1 quart, about 3 hours.

In a small sauce pan heat the oil over medium heat and fry the garlic until golden. Remove from heat and transfer to a small heatproof bowl.

Place the sliced scallions, cabbage (if using), cilantro, chilies, lime or lemon wedges, and sprouts, in individual bowls. Place on the table with the garlic oil.

In a large pot of boiling water, cook the noodles until just tender, about 30 seconds. Drain and divide among 6 large Chinese soup bowls. Add broth making sure to add some ground pork and dried shrimp. Instruct your guests to garnish their soups according to taste with some scallions, cabbage, cilantro, chilies, sprouts, and fried garlic, and squeeze a lime or lemon wedge on top. Adjust seasoning with fish sauce if desired.

Note: often times, my father eats the soup dry, meaning the broth is served on the side in a small bowl as opposed to being added to the noodles and its garnishes.

My friends have been asking me to start a blog for as long as they’ve been asking me to open my own restaurant…years! And for many years, I resisted both ideas, which I find rather daunting. So here I am, a new website (thanks to Greg Takayama) with a new blog page because according to some, I’ve got a lot to say about food…

Just to test the waters, I’ve been posting on my very own Facebook “wall,” (I resisted FB for about 2 years and finally gave in last December). Anyway, I’ve noticed that if I talk about food, without turning everything I post into a dissertation, people actually respond…imagine that!

The thing about blogging is that it is supposed to be short and sweet. I’ll get right to the point and offer you a recipe from my new cookbook, Noodles Every Day (Chronicle Books, 2009) to celebrate the launch of my new blog:

SOBA WITH GRILLED ASPARAGUS AND SEA SCALLOPS WITH SWEET MISO SAUCE (page 107)
serves 6

3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup sake
3 tablespoons mirin
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1/3 cup white miso
1 tablespoon finely grated ginger
1/4 vegetable oil
10 ounces dried soba noodles
36 asparagus spears, woody ends snapped or cut off
18 sea scallops
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
12 Walnut halves, lightly toasted, and coarsely chopped

In a bowl, whisk together the sugar, sake, mirin, and rice vinegar until the sugar is completely dissolved. Add the white miso, ginger, and 1 tablespoon of the oil and whisk until well combined. Set the miso glaze aside.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat and cook the noodles until tender yet firm, about 3 minutes. Drain, shock under cold running water and drain again.

Heat a well-oiled pan over medium heat. Brush the asparagus and scallops with all or most of the remaining 3 tablespoons of oil and season with salt and pepper to taste. Grill the asparagus first until just tender, 3 to 5 minutes total, rolling them about to heat them evenly all around. Divide and top each noodle serving with asparagus. Grill the scallops in the same pan until cooked through and crisp on each side, about 2 minutes per side. Divide the scallops a month the servings of noodles, and spoon some miso glaze over each. Serve garnished with toasted walnuts.

NOTE: To toast the walnut halves, put them in a dry skillet over medium-low heat for about 3 minutes, being sure to shake the pan so as not to burn the pieces. Remove from the pan and cool slightly before chopping.

~ posted to the tune of Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I’m No Good!” (Remix); the kitchen floor is mentioned in this song…