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Living in America

Quick pickled radishes

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Everyday feels different. Different in a different way. If I could be more specific, I’d say I’m constantly trying to remember how to be the Indian from Goa. Conversations with myself and imaginary cab drivers in Hindi/Konkani while walking the dogs, remind me sometimes. I remember how I could never have a “normal” fight with someone off the street. Anger made me forget the words and anxiety (plus wanting to plant the sole of my foot onto some passer-by molester’s pride and joy) didn’t help. I could bargain for some vegetables but the street smarts these women carry around in tiny waist pouches (and sometimes in their bras) were hardly something to mess around with.

“Bhindi, panch rupiya aadha kilo”

What the what?!

Okay, I deserve this.

I’m not a culture vulture. It’s never been something I made the effort to go out and learn. It just happened (or so I felt). The people were there, the experiences made nice safe spots in my brain and I did what I usually did. How do you belong to a place? How does every graceful movement become typical of us? I just haven’t thought about it.

But I am now.

How else can I explain not knowing what to say to a person I’ve met once or twice? I can ask a multitude of questions. Favourite books, colour, why the streets are cleaner here are some that might cross my mind. I speak but I still feel like I don’t know anything about you until I can ask: “Did you have your lunch?” Those exact words strung together. Variations include “Have you eaten?”, “What you ate?”, “I know you just had your lunch but there’s tea to be had…” I can’t pinpoint the exacts of this cultural derivation but nothing feels more home to me than food. We as people sew ourselves together with threads that we know won’t wear out with time. That is food, to me. Never an indulgence. This is something I know I can talk about and yet, I feel like I fall short when it comes to the “Indian-ness” of it all.

I can’t explain Indian food to people that ask because is there really such a thing? There isn’t. I can give the safe answer, laced with butter chicken and naan but I know it won’t be the right answer. I eat my naan plain, like a snack. Sometimes I used it to scoop up my fish-curry-rice, knowing very well I was doing it wrong and feeling like it was okay because I wasn’t trying to prove anything. Here, I sort of am. I have told Resident Evil, Dr Crazy Pants (his name is actually Matt) that “you don’t order rice AND naan. You choose one or the other”.

As if.  I can’t believe I told him that. It’s true but it’s not forever. I somehow find myself becoming more and more responsible to hold on to this culture I was born into. I can try doing it with food but I know very well that I have always cooked from memory and rarely from a book. So while I know perfectly well how to squeeze the juice from the coconut thanks to motherly instruction, I cannot (yet) make myself a true Goan fish-curry. But yay, I can make rice!

And I can teach Resident Crazy how to say “chalo” and debate how it would be spelled (“I feel it’s more of ‘chulo’ than ‘chalo'”).

And make that annoying sound people make when they’re annoyed with something.

And say “Yah no”.

And put onions in EVERYTHING.

Is there really any other way to be?

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This recipe is inspired by my sister who showed me how to make quick pickled carrots in almost the same way. I just took it and applied it to the radish bunch I bought last week. I do have a pressing question though. Is there a plural form of radish and is it radishes?  Things I can clearly do an Internet search for #946. The pickle flavour gets more pickle-y as time goes by.

Ingredients

  • A bunch of long red radishes (170 gms), sliced thin
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1/2 cup white vinegar
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1 tsp sugar
  • 2 cloves garlic
  • 1 dried red chilli, sliced in half
  • Fresh cracked pepper (optional)

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Cut up all the radishes into thin slices (like in the picture below), using your awesome knife skills. Put them in a non-reactive container (preferably glass and no metal or plastic) with enough room for the pickling liquid you’re about to make.

Put the salt, sugar, water and white vinegar into a pot and bring it to a boil, making sure that the sugar and salt dissolve. Multitask like a boss. As soon as it reaches boiling point,  take the pot off the stove and add the garlic clove and dried red chilli (also the pepper, if using) to it. Let it sit for 2-3 minutes and then pour it over the radishes in the bottle. Try to worm the chilli and garlic in the middle of all the slices. Put the lid on and shake the bottle. Let it cool before storing in the refrigerator. Use on everything.

I mean it.

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Sweet potato and sugar snap pea salad + Be 4.

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I’m sitting at the table. It’s the kind of table that folds back to a flat piece of nothing. Unless you were hoping to have a floor-style community meal, it’s the kind of table that fades into the background or shows up for the times we want to eat on the balcony like it’s a picnic. Right now, it’s standing on its own. It’s covered in paintings, paints, a glass full of this murky brown water – that earns its colours after constant brush dipping – and of course, there’s a paintbrush. And almonds.

My 4-year-old neighbour came to visit today. I brought her with me to hand her our copy of “Lincoln”. She was supposed to take it back to her parents’ but she changed her mind. “I want to come to your house. I love the puppies!”

“I love to paint.” “I love my brother.” “My little sister’s name is Karthika. I love her.” “I think this puppy loves me.”

If I start this-right-here sentence with “Kids….”, I’m probably going to distance myself from the one thing I still wish I could be. I don’t want to do that. I loved being a child. Just yesterday I made a mental note of all the games we made up as children. The no adults allowed kind of games. Our stuffed toys would talk and if they were on the floor after we awoke the next morning, we would assume they came to life while we were asleep. Then there was mud. Lots and lots of mud became food and leaves were the plate. Dry mud sprinkled on top of wet mud was chocolate pudding, rice, curry, fish, and then some. I can still feel this overwhelming joy that I felt back when I knew my sisters and I were going to play in this small shed at Analise’s house. There would be lots of mud and we could cook for hours, or until A. Pacy called us for lunch. *Groannnn*.

Back then, I never challenged my (what us adults call) creativity. I didn’t know any different. I made up things in my head and I had nothing to worry about because my world was real. Of course, one of us would always try to contest this reality, which would end with a loud “You’re cheating!” and maybe some tears and/or bite marks. “Magenta?! There’s no such colour!” Try telling that to the crocodile, Miss 8-year-old.

I wish it was still okay to bite people especially an imagination that constantly doubts itself. I’d bite a system that gives us ranks instead of measuring our passions. I’d bite the table because sometimes, that seems appropriate. I’d bite the walls that pop up any time I think I have a good idea but have no clue where to go from there. I’d also bite walls, because I like the taste of cement.

TMI.

Just like the 4-year-old with two ponytails, I also love. Puppies and paint and my sisters. I love this writing thing. I love how everything I draw always turns into a tree. I love leaf money and my Peanuts comics. I love to cook.

I have no desire for fame, or money (except sometimes….you know. Boring stuff). I just want this love thing. It seems like something important to a 4-year-old.

“For happiness is anyone and anything at all that’s loved by you”

You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.

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To my people in India, I know we don’t get these sugar snap things there so a good substitute for them would be some crunchy green French beans, cut in half and cooked in boiling water just until crispy/tender. They won’t be sweet but yet, they still will…if you know what I mean. You are my favourites. This recipe was inspired by this post on bonappetit.com.

Ingredients

  • 160 gm (1 3/4 cups) sugar snap peas
  • 190 gm (2 cups) sweet potato, cut in 1/2 inch cubes
  • 1/2 cup green onions, chopped/minced…you get my drift
  • Pepper and/or salt

For the dressing

  • 2 tbsp rice vinegar
  • 2 tbsp lite soy sauce
  • 2 tsp ginger, minced
  • 2 tsp garlic, minced
  • 1 tsp chili-garlic sauce like Sriracha
  • 2 tsp peanut oil
  • 1 tsp sesame seeds
  • 1 tsp brown sugar
  • 1/2 tbsp peanut butter

For garnish (optional)

  • Roasted peanuts or almonds or sunflower seeds…something nutty and crunchy that you already have in the kitchen, basically.

This should be fairly easy if I don’t eat up half my instructions. Shake me if I do.

Boil the sweet potato cubes in water until tender. As soon as you take them off the stove, shock them with cold water to stop the cooking process. Or tell them they’re fat. String the sugar snap peas and then cut them into 3 parts or 1/2 inch pieces. Put into a large bowl where your final salad will go along with the cooked sweet potatoes and green onions.

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Once the veggies are ready, it’s onto the dressing. Apart from the peanut oil and sesame seeds, mix/whisk together all the other ingredients in a small bowl. As for the peanut oil, put it on a pan along with the sesame seeds. When the oil gets hot enough, you’ll notice the sesame seeds turning a darker shade of brown and getting fragrant as well. Watch it closely so it doesn’t burn. As soon as this happens, take the pan off the stove and pour the hot oil/seed mix into the dressing bowl. Mix it with the rest of what’s in there and pour over the vegetable/spud/root i.e. peas, sweet potato, onions. Garnish with garnish. You have options above. I used roasted almonds. Season with pepper and salt (if it’s not already salty enough). If you want to make this dish even more fun, serve with your favourite Asian noodles.

Dinner is served. By somebody else. Not me.

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Ebb and flow

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I’m a firm believer in grating cheese over food that doesn’t impress me with its taste. I feel like this is how I want to live my life. Grating cheese over things and impressing myself. Yes, I do take the easy way out but that’s because not everything I make is Page 1-top post-hit publish worthy. If I was good at vomiting percentages, I’d say 60% of what I make tastes a lot like goat cheese. The rest is me being possessed by evil spirits and cooking things that see me spending 10 minutes staring at my taste tester.

“Is it good?”

“Do you like it?”

“You’re lying”

“It’s not that good.”

“Give me the truth, man. That’s all I ask.”

To tell you the cold hard truth, it hasn’t been that good this week. Either I’m realising that I wasn’t made with a flair for cooking or I just have temporary afternoon blahs. Or I feel too plain and I want to step up my game. If I have to, I have no idea how.  Do you have such thoughts too? I assume it comes with the territory…of coming up with something new each week.

I thought about how I’d like to be Miss Spice of Life in this world and I came up with a few ideas. To everybody not reading this right now, this is me thinking out loud and motivating myself to focus on this experiment as a whole and not a day-day thing.

– Stay simple and true to your ingredients. It takes a lot for me to say “NO, I will let this lemon be a lemon and flavour my cold water right now” when all I can think of is “PIEEEEE”. Nothing wrong with that except you tend to scatter your thoughts to 70 different areas instead of taking a seat and sipping on you lemonade and feeling so cool that you can whatever you want if you just breathe.

– Reminisce food experiences. Those meals are the ones you yearn for. Find your own special way to recreate them and make them your own.

FINALLY.

– Cook the food you love to eat. If this week is all about the dal (yellow lentils) and rice, then so be it. Yesterday it was slightly different. I couldn’t stop thinking about the rainbow carrots in the vegetable drawer. They were sitting there and being pretty and I was scouring the web for recipes that would do the most justice to them. I couldn’t wait much longer so I went ahead and cooked them in the way I knew best. I would eat this 10 times over if I could.

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I will have this recipe up for you sooner than you think.

In other news, I have to do a test tomorrow. For a job. Spectacular. Thankfully it requires very little getting out of bed and a lot of tea on tap.

In other other news, these guys are making my life just when I was about to give up on them.

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Hey little ones, I will eat you very soon. Without cheese because that’s how good you’ll be.

Quinoa stir-fry with lemony winter greens + older and nuttier

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Just yesterday, Antsypants booked two tickets for us to go visit my in-laws and his parents in May. That’s where we’ll be this time two months from now. This time two months from now, I’ll also be 26. Mama, if you’re reading this, WHEN DID I BECOME 26? Bleah, it’s okay. I actually like my birthday. I forget I’m 26 at least until somebody asks me my age and then I have to think for 5 seconds when this all changed.

It wasn’t like this when I was a teenager. I was angst-ridden and the idea of me standing around a cake with people staring at me was quite unappealing. I wanted to hide in my room but I always wanted to hide in my room at that age. There were parties people came over, I came out and shook hands and said thank you. When I realised that I was missing all the presents, I tried to be better about it. Who doesn’t love presents?! Especially of the monetary, non-fabric kind.

Non-fabric kind. I just made myself “lol”. Ask me later if you want to know why.

At 25, I can say quite confidently that I don’t think like that anymore. I still don’t like birthday parties in the tradition of “let’s invite everyone we know so our faces fall off from two cheek kissing” but I like to be around the people that matter. As for presents, I feel better a lot better about giving and feeling grateful for what I already have. There’s little I need and a bulk of that you just can’t buy.

Two months to 26. If this is what it’s going to feel like, I’m alright with that. Being with the new extension to my family, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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I made this recipe up from my own “too lazy to cook something fancy” brain and guess what? It turned out to be quite fancy after all. I should not try more often. My point is, if you find that you need to change the vinegar-soy sauce ratio, go ahead. Just make sure you start with less and taste as you go. I’ve made this thrice and I’ve like it most with this combination of quinoa. The red quinoa is a lot crispier even after it’s cooked and the mustard seeds give it a wonderful nutty flavour as you eat.

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup quinoa, rinsed and cooked (I used a mix of black, white and red quinoa from the bulk section of the grocery but any one kind will do)
  • 1 + 2 tsp peanut oil
  • 5 oz tofu, cut into  1/2 to 1 inch cubes
  • 2 tsp whole mustard seeds
  • 1 large clove garlic, chopped fine
  • 1 cup carrots, diced
  • 1 cup green beans,
  • 2 tbsp lite soy sauce (it’s a lot less salty than the regular kind. You can also use tamari if you don’t like soy sauce but modify the quantity as per your tastebuds)
  • 4 tsp rice vinegar
  • Winter salad greens, washed and dried (frisée, arugula, mustard, beet greens, chicory…are some example. If you don’t have any of these, you can add baby or chopped spinach)
  • Squeeze of lemon juice
  • Salt to taste

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Heat a teaspoon of peanut oil in a non-stick frying pan and cook the tofu on both sides until it’s golden and crisp on the outside but still soft on the inside. It should take about 3 minutes per side. Take it out of the pan and place it on a paper towel. I thought about cutting it into cubes after frying it (makes it easier to flip) but if you’ve gone knife crazy and prepped your ingredients already, I’m sorry. I can make it up to you by cooking for you someday should our crosses path. Paths cross.

I’m not really sorry.

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At this point, your quinoa should be on the stove top in a small pot, being cooked in lightly salted water or vegetable stock.

On the same frying pan where you fried the tofu, add 2 tsp of peanut oil and add the mustard seeds to it. Once the oil gets hot, the mustard seeds will start to pop. Quickly add the garlic and give it a 30-second stir. Then add the carrots and stir-fry for 3 minutes. Throw in the green beans next, then the tofu and keep stirring the mix for another 4 minutes at least.

Add the soy sauce and give it a quick stir and then add the rice vinegar. Taste here to check if all’s well in stir-fry land. Cook for 3 more minutes or until the veggies are cooked but not soft (I like them to be a little crunchy). Take it off the stove and check on the quinoa. If it’s ready, then add this stir-fry mix to it and combine the two in the quinoa pot. If it’s not, you wait till it is. That was easy. Ha.

The third part of this recipe is incorporating the salad greens. Wash and dry the greens and then squeeze some lemon juice over them in a separate bowl. You are now going to add these greens to the quinoa in the pot. The quinoa should still be warm when you do this so that the greens wilt just a tad.

Serve warm in a bowl. Squeeze more lemon juice on the top if you prefer.

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Don’t mind me.

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I’ve just spent most of today staring deep into the soul of my new laptop that I cried for these past few months. Something about watching movies and TV shows in bed just called out to me.

Okay, the real story is that I wanted it so I could write in whichever room I pleased.

In bed.

Okay, the honest to goddess earth truth is I wanted it for my blog. To organise things into pretty folders and mess up my whole desktop as I chose.

I tell dudeface that this is his too and when he disagrees, I tell him to send it back. We’ve had these heart to hearts even before this being physically entered our lives so you know, we’re the master debaters.

*snigger*

Dear friends of my mother,

Please think of me as my own person and not as my mother’s daughter. She wouldn’t want my bad puns on her hands.

Love

Edlyn

PS: I’m going to get back to normality (riiiiiight) tomorrow as soon as I move all my photos etc and instal my whatchamacalits.

The usual.

See ya. Happy festival season.

Good day is good.

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Today I am grateful. I don’t think I’m doing anything special here. I write for the same reason a lot of people do — to feel some sort of human connection. The months since I’ve moved here have been mixed. I’ve felt a lot of loneliness (I still do) and the overwhelming joy as well. Last week when a neighbour came over, I never thought I’d be as surprised as I was. This was the first time since I came here that anybody has ever knocked on our door just to see how I was doing. Well, second time. The first time, Lisa just wanted to drive me home so she could see where I lived.

The people here are extremely kind. In India, we’re used to people who don’t smile in family photos or interact without a please and thank you. Here you hold doors, thank bus drivers, inquire about a cashier’s day and try not to be a general ass about everything. Park within the lines and the world loves you, cut someone off and you have no values. Doesn’t matter if you were in a hurry to volunteer in a homeless shelter, your turn signal wasn’t on. I’m made to understand that kindness goes a long way, which is precisely why I tore up a sticky note I saw on a freshly-cemented landing at the entrance to our building yesterday. “Instead of fixing the cracks, fix the damn hole”. I’d write, “thank you” but what do I know.

This is confusing.

Why can I manage to have a conversation with people I’ve never met in my life and still not feel that sense of community I feel at home? I lived away from family for 6 years (I think) but even then I felt cared about…by my roommates, by A Myra who let me stay in her house, by our neighbours who’d fill our water because we were too lazy to wake up at 6am and by the parents of all my friends. Homes were always open, as were hearts. People would say “come over” and you wouldn’t think anything strange of it.

This is in no way a geographic EQ comparison. I’m in transition so of course things stick out more for me than they would for a person who calls a place in America home. I could be speaking too soon and in a few months, I will wonder what I was even talking about. This is a new place. A place I am more than willing to give a chance. A place where it rarely snows (and definitely not in March) but a place where it still does. Nothing is set in stone. I still have dreams that Goa is just a button push away, but who doesn’t?

It’s within these (sort of) inner trials that we find how blessed we really are. And here lies the source of my gratitude. This writing space. The place where I feel so generous because all I really want to do is make someone’s day. To know that I have one person nod their head in agreement is enough. I appreciate your kindness despite us not knowing each other by face and more so if we do.

Everybody right from my lovely mother, who shares my writing with people I know wouldn’t approve of me saying “shit”, to people I know just because I found you (or you found me) on the internet — THANK YOUUUUUU!!! It requires emphasis because you went out of your way to be amazing and I love you for that.

 

If you’re reading this, say hi or tell me something really arbitrary about yourself. If you see any typos, tell me that too. 🙂

The truth shall set you free.

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I did not marry a man who loves to cooks but sometimes I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if he did. He makes us great breakfast and grill things but sometimes ya just wants to eat cake. This was me yesterday, hoping for a different answer from Em Dub aka Awesomepants aka Biscuithead.

Me: Why did you buy all these baking things?

Cauliflowerpants: Can you be more specific, please?

Me: All this baking stuff like the tray and the hand blender…

Cabbagepatchpants: Oh, the hand blender I used to make special protein shakes like with oatmeal. The baking tray I used to broil chicken whenever.

Me: You should cook more.

Butternutsquash: My food was boring.

Me: -__-

It’s okay. I married him for his money. The blender is a perk.

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Dirty dishes can wait.

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These past three days were filled with time I just didn’t want to waste. After pleading for more Indian-friendly weather, the sun came out just in time for Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Well..not so much on Sunday but I’m never greedy about these things.

It’s funny because my mother keeps telling me how horrible the weather is in Goa. They had a pool day on Goan Sunday, which is American Saturday night, which is very far from pool day weather, which is fine because I can pretend when I’m eating fish and chips.

Which is what I did.

So I gladly forgot to bring to you my breakfast picture from Sunday, though I must add I was THIS close to making something out of boiled eggs. THIS close (can you see my thumb and index finger? Thought so).

Let me break it down for you because you know I do such a great job of it.

Friday: I ate too much.

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Saturday: It started out with fog but the day just got so nice by the time it hit noon. We went for a nice long walk on an island. It was a ferry ride away and I want to live on Whidbey Island. No big deal. Can I borrow some money?

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Sunday: Spent the afternoon discovering Chinatown, Seattle Underground and talking about something that depresses me as much as it is a cause for my elation — food. It’s about time we have some consensus on the fact that premium needs to become normal again and food needs to spoil faster, without genetically-modifying it please. I can’t imagine spending extra for a CSA basket just because it’s better for me. What about the people that don’t have that “luxury”? It’s not fair. Stories like this are reassuring. But Whole Foods isn’t mainstream enough. In my opinion, they’ve just found a great way to market the most obviously good-for-you products better and hence, mark up the prices for them. If they can wage a battle against Pepsico and Coca Cola and YIKES Monsanto – some of the giants that spend millions to hide the truth from us and buy “organic” titles – all power to them.

America, you need to learn. Because the big guys here become the big guys in other countries too and that’s not the direction the world needs to move in. Not with our food.

As for pictures, I have some but not of the digital variety.

I promise you more shenanigans soon. Eat well and live well. The world needs your spark.

Cilantro cured salmon + Absolution Part 1

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I remember when I did this. Yikes. Not to the recipe. Yikes to the fact that I made a mess of something as easy as salmon.

I am usually Ms Perfect when it comes to cooking seafood. I don’t mean to brag but my years of living in Goa and watching my parents work with fish has made it (close to) effortless for me.

Cooking fish well, I can do. Doing the fancy medium rare slices you see on TV or eat at fine dining places, I struggle with. That’s not to say I haven’t tried. I have been successful on a rare occasion or two but just as I began to celebrate, my dad walked in and decided it was not the way of our ancestors. There was no reichado masala. Just some salt, pepper and fancy pants garlic, cilantro and lime. I mean, who does that?!

What a non-Goan Goan.

Those kinds of cooks hide away in 5-star hotels and Internet kitchens. If you do find out about them, your friend will find a bottle of hot sauce on the table. Then you know what comes next. If you leave your friend at home, the fish will probably be too bland and you’ll wish he (because I can only see my male friends abuse sauce bottles) was there.

Over here in my new apartment home, this is my kitchen! Until I have to do dishes, I’m celebrating. Because of all good things cooking in our kitchen has done for me, I have yet to get over that earth-shattering, brain-melting, eyeball-spinning feeling of looking at the mess I’ve just made.

Over it.

For now.

I despise dishwashers.

But fish? I love fish.

I had to make a connection before I lost you all.

I have 2 salmon recipes for this week and I’ll share it in two parts so as not to confuse you further. One of them is cooked well but it’s just enough to keep that smooth texture I love about the fish so much. The other recipe, which I’m going to share today is a dream. It’s so easy to prepare for and the hardest part is waiting for it to get ready so it can get it yo belly!

Oh the struggles of home-cooking.

Onwards.

I found this recipe in Kim Severson and Glen Denkler’s The New Alaska Cookbook. It has plenty of seasonal recipes by chefs from restaurants and bakeries in Alaska and I am completely in love with it. If you love fresh seafood, this book is poetic.

Ingredients

  • 1 filet fresh salmon (2 lbs) Skinned, bones removed
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup sea salt (the recipe calls for kosher salt so use what you prefer)
  • 1 bunch cilantro, washed and roughly chopped

Prepare your salmon.

Unravel a piece of plastic wrap long enough to go around the salmon filet at least 2-3 times. Place the salmon on the plastic wrap and sprinkle it with half the sugar and then half the salt. Spread it well using your hands. Not feet.

Put half of the cilantro on the plastic wrap in the shape of the filet and place the coated side of the salmon on top of it. Put the rest of the sugar and then the salt on the other side of the salmon, coating it as you did before. Add the remaining cilantro on this side as well.

Fold the plastic wrap over the top and roll it until the plastic wrap reaches the end. I tied mine with a rubber band just because sometimes I feel like plastic wrap is going to give up of me and go on strike. If you’re not eccentric, don’t you bother your tail feathers about it.

Place the filet package into a shallow pan (or baking tray) and put some heavy weights on it. The water from the salmon needs to be squeeeeezed out over the 3-4 day period it stays in the fridge. I used cans of stuff I found in the kitchen cupboards to achieve this but be as innovative as you can. I placed the salmon in the fridge and left it there for 4 days (96 hours). You can also leave it in for 2 or 3 days but since it was my first time, I stuck with 4.

Remove the excess sugary-salty liquid that collect at the bottom of the pan as and when you notice it (trust me, you WILL notice it!).

Four days later, unwrap the salmon and slice it thin. Arrange it on a plate with crackers or eat it on a sliced baguette with avocado spread on top (of the bread…just in case I wasn’t clear).

I think I can forgive myself now.