Bites of Singapore

The street across from the Hotel Telegraph transformed into a bustling market dedicated to satay in the evening. Lines formed, chairs and tables were set, fires raged, meats marinated. In Singaporean style the experience was both highly organized and energetic. We descended from our third floor room before six pm to find patrons already waiting for their orders, a growing line and menus being inspected. As we approached with obvious confused looks on our faces, we were offered a menu of three satay options: shrimp, beef or chicken in various combinations and sizes. After we ordered, we received a buzzer to alert us when our food was ready. A 45-minute wait was suggested. While we waited we found an empty table at a place with the chilli crab just beyond the steps. It arrived quicklky after ordering a medium crab: succulent, spicy, spectacular. It was a treat that required eating armor in the form of plastic gloves and a ton of napkins. So very worth it. We were sopping up the spicy sauce with piping hot buns when our buzzer rang.

We scurried down the steps to find two spots in the long communal tables before collecting our tray of grilled and spiced meats. The tables were full and customers crammed without panic. It was a beautiful night in the city, under the stars dipping our sticks of satay into the sauce. So simple in form and so complex in flavor. I enjoyed the chicken the most.

Our mouths were still burning from the chilli crab, when glistening egg tarts called to us with promise of sweet relief. The tarts did not disappoint. Flaky pastry, still warm from the oven, the custard was barely set. We tried both the original and the salted egg. It demanded a delicate and quick gesture to guide the generous bite of delight into my mouth. My gesture wasn’t as delicate and refined as I wanted it to be. Regardless, it was a eyes-roll-back-in-disbelief moment of sheer eggy goodness. A moment of perfection that I am doomed to search for endlessly. I’m okay with that.

One of the most memorable dishes that I tried for the first time was Nasi Lemak. Malaysian coconut milk rice, fried crispy anchovies, toasted peanuts, cucumber, sambal and “spicy wife” roasted chicken. The chicken had a crispy coating of spice and tender juicy meat inside. The fried anchovies, peanuts and rice with a touch of the sambal was a flavor and texture dream team. These flavor combinations were unfamilar to me. I’m so glad that is no longer the case. I will be dreaming and searching for this dish from now on.

We tried two versions of carrot cake – Chai Tow Kway. Flavorful, soft, chewy and roasty all at the same time. The one with dark soy sauce was more caramelized. It was a hearty dish of radish (daikon) cakes cut into dumpling size, stir fried with eggs, green onions and seasoning sauces.

Yes, durian was sampled. For me the experience was mixed: the texture is delightfully and surprisingly fluffy, the intense sweetness morphed somehow into a savory funk that compares to no other taste. It is a singular taste experience. Many other dishes were sampled. All pried open the world of flavor a bit more with each bite and sip: grass jelly drink, fish soup, noodles with gravy and meats, pandan waffle and more.

Rojak is said to represent the cultural diversity of Singapore (last image). A sweet savory, fruit, vegetable dish infused with lime and shrimp paste. The one we tasted at Old Airport Road Food centre was covered in nuts. It was a collision of everything. Is it a snack, a meal, a dessert? It defies categorical definition and so philosophically my favorite even if gastronomically a challenge. I’ll be thinking about this one for a long time. Sometimes food preferences translate easily, sometimes acquired tastes confront us, sometimes unfamiliar combinations of familiar tastes shift our perspectives, sometimes familiar foods in unfamiliar places surprise us (we had the best room service veggie and regular burger with fries at the Telegraph Hotel). Eating through Singapore was an adventure and awakening into the ever expanding possibilities of multiculturalism in practice.

Sleeping Kittens, Dog Dreams, and A Recipe for Happiness

I’ve been watching kittens on social media, out of professional interest. At least that’s my story. Soft fluffy adorable kittens comfortably sleeping, and then lured with snacks into happy wakefulness. What an addictive spectacle of joy! The transformation from sleep to aliveness is like a celebration of rebirth and might explain the recent social media trend of kittens waking up by sniffing food which has nearly 39 million views on TikTok. I am particularly interested in this social media recipe for engineered joy because I’ve seen a version of it before in my design history research.

The 1950 Fall issue of the Cosmopolitan Magazine included an interview with industrial designer Raymond Loewy, famous for designing modern kitchen appliances, including the widely popular 1934 Sears Coldspot Super Six Refrigerator.  The magazine interview included 4 recipes from the designer’s kitchen. While the first three recipes, predictable in the designer’s aggressive self-promotion, offer recipes that require a refrigerator, the last provides a whimsical window into the designer’s personality.  I see the cook-engineer of gastronomic satisfaction, Loewy himself, as the connection between the first three recipes and the last recipe. Raymond Loewy’s Recipe Book guides us to design our own happiness in the form of cool modern desserts – and buy one of his designed products while we do so.

Here’s why watching kittens wake up to snacks, for me, a life adjustment consultant, is of professional interest. Fellow pet video connoisseurs will find a very familiar description in the fourth recipe, “a demonstration of complete happiness”…

“Another simple recipe for anyone interested in a demonstration of complete happiness in this world of ours. I use it quite often and find it refreshing:

Take a good-size live dog, fast asleep, preferably an Irish setter. Place gently, as close to its nostrils as possible, a large chunk of liverwurst. Sit back and watch.

Stage One: At each intake of breath the scent of the sausage slowly permeates the unconscious brain of the subject until it reaches the boundaries of semi-consciousness. Then the nostrils begin to quiver slightly.

Stage Two: Lashes begin to flutter, saliva oozes out, and breathing evolves into sniffing.

Stage Three: Subject suddenly realizes the reality of the dream and in a violent convulsion lunges at the morsel and swallows in one gulp.

Stage Four: The final stage is the most interesting one for the expert to watch as it greatly varies according to individual dogs. Setters ordinarily express their utter bewilderment by sitting up and staring bleakly – unable to decide what to do next. They remain there, unconvinced that such ecstasies exist outside the world of dreams.”

There is something worth reverse engineering about this personalized recipe for joy. Five ingredients stand out:

  1. A relaxed state: The first ingredient of Loewy’s recipe involves a pet enjoying a safe, sleepy, restful state of ease. By choosing his sleepy dog to demonstrate an expression of happiness, he is defining happiness as an unintentional surprise. What interrupts a boring sequence of expected events and wakes you up to unexpected joy? Sensory pleasure. From a therapeutic standpoint feeling safe and relaxed, a non-traumatic state is essential in inviting an experience of happy surprise.
  2. Attention to sensation: Stages one and two of Loewy’s recipe, prompted by placing a sausage in front of the dog’s nostrils show the importance of sensory information in feeling happy. Loewy describes senses awakening by desire, much like simplified “self-care” routines of incense, face masks, massages, tea, and pillows that soothe the body into a relaxed state.  Safety is maintained through the surprise. The dog does not wake up irritable,  jarred and fearful.
  3. Action out of sensation: Stage three of the dog’s sudden leap into action prompted by the dreamy promise of liverwurst marks the direct transition from the unconscious to action without rational mediation. The dog “realizes the reality of the dream.” For Loewy’s pet Irish Setter, pleasurable fulfillment is not dependent on a rationally guided concept of liverwurst. The dog in a “violent compulsion” simply lunges to fulfill his dream. The dog does not overthink. When something surprisingly good happens, do you find yourself questioning and editing your happiness? If so, we might need to talk.
  4. Understanding: Belatedly, stage four represents the search for understanding. Confusion appears as the dog efforts to validate the unplanned joyful experience. The dog’s doubt and confusion after being satisfied show happiness to be recognized after the fact of sensory fulfillment. Was that tasty happiness real? – The dog’s bewildered pause seems to be asking. Perhaps Loewy points to a taste of loss between belated pleasure and unaware pleasure, a feeling that happiness can only be constructed in hindsight, unintentionally. Here again, the dog does not overthink or get stuck in the quick arrival and loss of tasty satisfaction. It is done. It was good. A full experience untainted by conceptual expectations.
  5. Witness: The most essential ingredient in Raymond’s recipe for happiness is himself, the chef-engineer of this scenario. He plays both the facilitator and the witness to joy. In watching the kitten videos, maybe we also vicariously and empathetically experience a moment of satisfaction, maybe it gives us permission to seek the same by design, maybe it reminds us that we can engineer acts of joy for others. Unlike pets, we can cook up our own recipe for happiness to be shared.  

In therapeutic terms, the first three stages of relaxation, attention, and action represented by Loewy’s Irish Setter show us the role of the body in the construction of happiness. The dog’s confusion and belated awareness of happiness describe the mind’s effort to validate and understand pleasure. The hidden ingredient, Raymond Loewy himself, represents the heart that witnesses and supports the evolving experience of unconscious pleasure and conscious reflection. The recipe’s last line serves the dish with a warning. Many of us, like the Irish setter, “remain there, unconvinced that such ecstasies exist outside the world of dreams.” We become frozen in a haze of joy experienced in the past as a dream. Loewy’s list of ingredients reminds us that whipping up happiness is not to be found out “there.”  It is at the tip of our nostrils waiting to be swallowed. We might imagine the sad confusion of the Irish setter in his swallowing without savoring, his dreamy consumption without mindful awareness.

            Try Loewy’s recipe, and cook up some happiness for yourself with the ingredients of safety, sensation, surprise, and company. As a part of the sensory-focused step two of the recipe for happiness, try one of his first three recipes:

Champagne and Peaches

“Place a nice juicy peach, previously peeled, at the bottom of a tall glass. Half fill with cracked ice, and add a jigger of Grand Marnier. Crush the peach slightly, and fill the glass with iced champagne. Drink while very cold.”

Coffee Caramel Sauce

“Take a pound of granulated sugar, ¼ lb. of butter, 2 pints of heavy cream. Place in copper pan, blend well, and let cook until it reaches the consistency of fudge. Add a tablespoonful of real vanilla extract and half cup of very strong coffee. Let simmer a while. In order to test the consistency, pour a drop on a buttered plate and feel with your fingers. It should be quite firm, but not hard – like chewy caramels. Sauce should be served rather hot over good vanilla or coffee ice cream.”

Sherbet

“Prepare a mixture of 1/3 apricot nectar, 1/3 tangerine juice, and 1/3 pineapple juice. Add plenty of good champagne, a dash of fresh lime juice and freeze in an ice-cream freezer. It is delicious.”

Where the Crawdads Sing – A story of grits to polenta

[spoiler alert: if you haven’t read the book or seen the movie stop now]

What if grits play the role of barometer for character development in the coming-of-age mystery drama novel (now a movie) Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens?

Following this suspicion, I searched the book’s index for “grits”: It shows up 52 times. This number includes the 2 times “grit” is referenced in her character. Seems poetically appropriate that Kya’s character of survival and self-preservation would reveal grit, through grits.

Let’s look at the story through the perspective of grits in 5 quotes…

“Kya was very hungry. For breakfast she’d boiled grits with soda crackers stirred in because she didn’t have any salt. One thing she already knew about life: you can’t eat grits without salt.”

Left alone at age 7 the challenge to feed herself fuels the story arc. Modifying the recipe for grits to include crackers with salt shows Kya’s resourcefulness.

“In a few days she got the hang of fixing grits, although no matter how hard she stirred, they lumped up some. The next week she bought backbones—marked with a red tag—and boiled them with grits and collard greens in a mush that tasted fine.”

Kya continues to adapt her grits recipe to become inclusive of any surplus flavor while working to smooth the texture.

“She lived on dried fish, mussels, oysters. Grits and greens.”

This menu defines Kya’s childhood between what she could gather herself and the grits she bought at the store. Her complete dependence on coastal North Carolina for food, safety, and learning makes her a creature of the marsh: the marsh girl.  

“Each morning they rose at dawn and, while Tate percolated coffee, Kya fried corn fritters in Ma’s old iron skillet—blackened and dented—or stirred grits and eggs as sunrise eased over the lagoon.”

Further along the storyline, her recipe evolves to include more ingredients and skills, as she shares her meals with Tate.

“Almost every shop had a special table displaying the books by Catherine Danielle Clark ~ Local Author ~ Award-Winning Biologist. Grits were listed on the menus as polenta in mushroom sauce and cost $6.00.”

Towards the end of the book, grits are no longer food for survival and becomes food for adoring fans and travelers to the area.

In contrast, notice the use of “grit” in the book to highlight a decisive moment of loss,

“Dug sweaty cheese from her bag. Then slumped on the floor and ate mindlessly, touching her bruised cheek. Her face, arms, and legs were cut and smeared with bloody grit. Knees scratched and throbbing. She sobbed, fighting shame, suddenly spitting the cheese out in a chunky, wet spray.”

Grit and grits, strength in the face of loss, and food for survival implicate each other in the book. Unfortunately, grits as a character barometer in the book Where the Crawdads Sing was lost in the movie.

Maybe have a bowl of grits to make up for the omission after watching the movie.

More about grits here: https://islandlifenc.com/a-guide-to-southern-grits/

Today is the first day of Hispanic Heritage, why not combine the stories of survival in a bowl?

Here is a recipe for creamy grits from one of my favorite cookbooks, Turnip Green and Tortillas: A Mexican Cook Spices up the Southern Kitchen.

1-quart heavy cream

1 cup quick grits (not instant)

¼ cup sugar

1½ teaspoons salt, plus additional as desired

Bring the cream to a boil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Watch carefully so it doesn’t boil over. While continually whisking, add the grits and cook, whisking, for 5 minutes. Add the sugar and salt and cook, whisking frequently, for an additional 5 to 10 minutes, until the grits are tender. Serve hot.

The cookbook also offers a lighter version and a blue cheese version. I know adding cream to grits can be controversial.

Make grits the way you want when summoning your grit. What food would you choose to be the barometer of your evolution?

Wishing you a full bowl,

Hungryphil

Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing. Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Hernandez, Eddie; Puckett, Susan. Turnip Greens & Tortillas: A Mexican Chef Spices Up the Southern Kitchen (p. 175). HMH Books. Kindle Edition.

A watched pot (turtle nest) boils in Oak Island

A volunteer waved us left as we approached the tiny runway shaped to help guide baby turtles towards the sea. During our evening walks we noticed these small runways lined with green edges, centers brushed smooth carefully made ready for turtle nests incubating in the warm July sand past 50 days.  

“They’re coming. Please walk over and behind.” The excitement of new life. A small group of people composed of “nest mothers”, volunteers, and the vacationing and local curious was hovering over the patch of sand with a square grate the size of a doormat. The patch had a small crack where the sand caved in the size of my hand. This was an indication of restlessness, cracking, and movement below. The crowd of children, adults and more volunteers grew on either side of the runway as the sun began to set. We all waited. And waited. So did the turtles. They were waiting for the sand to cool as a sign of the waning sun that would make it easier to hide from predators. As the sun dipped, they rose and boiled like small dark shadows rising out of the growing hole in the ground.

Am I seeing this? The instinct is to shed light on this miracle. But light is exactly what they are avoiding. Light disorients budding life. They turn away and go in the wrong direction. “They have been listening to the ocean this whole time, they know to move towards the sound,” a volunteer explained while encouraging us to use our “inside voices” so the turtles can hear the ocean calling them. Or is it the magnetic pull? The ocean is like the mother’s heartbeat for a human baby emerging out of a uterine water sac. The baby moves towards the light, and a turtle also moves towards the moonlight on the water. Lights on the beach confuse them, they move in the wrong direction away from the water and into the grips of a predator. The beauty of turtles rising together. This I’ve learned affords survival of the species, many are sacrificed to predators so a few can live and serve a larger commitment to life. We humans have so much to learn from these tiny dark, squiggly, directed shadows. We can stand by, watch, guide, and mostly care enough to stay out of their way and keep other humans from staying out of their way…waving them to go around or stop shining light on the fragile eyes looking for the ocean. It is a practice of humble awe. A gentle suggestion that perhaps we are not the center of all life.

Sea turtles are a protected species. The Oak Island Turtle Protection Program is on a mission to monitor and protect the sea turtles and to foster community-based conservation…basically to wave us away from trampling the turtles and to welcome us to come close without shining light and with hushed reverence. In the three weeks of living here sitting on the sand alongside the turtle runway was the first and most satisfying sense of community I have experienced. No power, monetization, or exclusivity. The simplicity of a random community of curious humans channeling and watching small shadows scurry to glistening dark waves. It was magnificent.

The turtles are protected from industrial pollution and natural predators. We are among that list of natural predators. In my efforts to learn about the region I now call home, I researched a few cookbooks available at the local library. One of the cookbooks entitled “The Beachcomber’s Handbook of Seafood Cookery” by Hugh Zachary (1969) shares a Sea Turtle Stew recipe. The author prefaces the recipe with a story about gathering eggs from the beach, a culture of turtle hunting, followed by a plea.  He writes,

“I saw a couple of huge loggerheads that had been killed, wantonly killed, on Long Beach, not for their meat, but just for the fun of killing something so large, apparently. I like turtles. I like turtles better than I like some people – namely people who would kill a big loggerhead just for the experience. Loggerhead turtles are a vanishing breed. It’s fun to go turtle hunting during a full moon in a warm month on a nice night. It’s an interesting experience to find a big turtle on her nest and watch her lay eggs and cover them with her awkward, instinctive, and utterly laborious movements. My sympathy goes out to the big beast who comes out of her natural element to try to fight the odds against the survival of her species.

Let’s don’t eat loggerheads.”

Zachary, Hugh. (1969) The Beachcomber’s Handbook of Seafood Cookery. Kingsport Press: Tennessee.

On the margins of this recipe page, the library added a note about the law protecting sea turtles.

from the Beachcomber’s Handbook of Seafood Cookery (1969)

We humans can be both predators and conservators, vicious and curious. Sitting there watching the baby turtles a representation of life itself flapping, flailing, scurrying, blind and confused, I was reminded of the choice. As food curious as I am, I am okay letting turtle meat remain a mystery. I don’t know what my line is for eating other living beings, is it endangered animals? Or like Mr. Rogers who avoided anything that had a mother? Eat flesh out of necessity or politeness? Practice a generally plant-based diet? I don’t have my own answer, let alone have one for you. All I can say is that I hope to be aware of and own my choices today. Tomorrow may be different. Last evening it felt good to be among a community of humans who chose to stand together and aside watching life emerge out of a dark small crack in the earth.

Thank you baby turtles. I hope you live a long life and return to this beach as a place of safety and care. We’ll wait for you.

For lunch today, cereal with frozen blueberries sounds refreshing.

Wishing you thoughtful eating,

hungryphil

Three Bites of Welcome to Oak Island

Our daughters arrive for their first visit to Oak Island this weekend.

Jim and I moved here three weeks ago. After all the unpacked boxes, wi-fi installation, acquiring new driver’s licenses, new “first in flight” plates, placing art on the wall, furniture in the rooms, filling the refrigerator and cabinets, their visit will make this a home, officially.

We are so excited to share and discover this new area with them. We want our kids to feel excited to visit and eventually find their own vacation rhythm here. There are so many delicious tastes to discover on the island. There is an assortment of Italian, Southern, and Asian food varieties. Ice cream, Italian ice, and desserts galore.

Here is a gentle start with three … (with more to come)…

Kai Joes

This is my place for shrimp (and tofu) tacos and tater tots and buffalo bites. Perfect uncomplicated tasty beach food. Flavorful sauces, crunchy fried treats, and a variety of tacos. Wait in line. Order at the window. Sit outside on a picnic bench. Enjoy the table of hot sauces. Watch out for the flies who like the taste too.

https://kaijoes.com/

Fixins

https://www.fixinsoki.com/

My place for a comforting bowl of greens, eggs, and grits. The potatoes (or sweet potatoes) add extra texture and flavor. I wasn’t sure about the double carbs…but it works, especially on a rainy beach morning. For sunny days, I would suggest one of the many biscuit sandwiches. We ordered take-out and enjoyed it on our deck.

The Lazy Turtle and Bar

If you are craving plump and juicy fried shrimp, sitting on a picnic table overlooking the ocean with your toes in the sand, this is the place. The half-eaten shrimp, hushpuppy, and crab sandwich speak for themselves. They (…ahem..me) couldn’t wait for the photo. Keep in mind, island time here (and serious challenges of understaffing) by the time the food hit the table, I was HUNGRY. The view and the food were worth the wait. And, enjoying good company does make the time fly.

These three bites offer orientation to the beach through seafood, handheld tacos and sandwiches, and Oak Island’s Southern heritage. In future posts, I hope to share the Asian food options here, as well as Italian. How does the beach get plated at these restaurants? More seafood options perhaps?

I am most excited about learning from these establishments and bringing these ideas home to my own kitchen. So far, I have celebrated seafood by cooking four dishes: Red Snapper with coconut milk, mustard seeds, and curry leaves, Grouper with ginger coconut curry, Black Seabass with sumac and zataar potatoes, and Teriyaki Mahi with grilled green onions and wilted spinach.

Red Snapper with coconut milk, mustard seeds, and curry leaves
Grouper with ginger coconut curry
Black Seabass with sumac and zataar
Teriyaki Mahi with grilled green onions and wilted spinach

I’m just getting started on celebrating coastal seafood. Send me suggestions. What are your favorite seafood dishes? Seafood recipe books?

Let’s keep eating, discovering, and celebrating familiar and foreign traditions.

Wishin you thoughtful bites and a happy summer,

Hungryphil

Food Poem – Ode to Chocolate by Barbara Crooker

I hate milk chocolate, don’t want clouds
of cream diluting the dark night sky,
don’t want pralines or raisins, rubble
in this smooth plateau. I like my coffee
black, my beer from Germany, wine
from Burgundy, the darker, the better.
I like my heroes complicated and brooding,
James Dean in oiled leather, leaning
on a motorcycle. You know the color.

Oh, chocolate! From the spice bazaars
of Africa, hulled in mills, beaten,
pressed in bars. The cold slab of a cave’s
interior, when all the stars
have gone to sleep.

Chocolate strolls up to the microphone
and plays jazz at midnight, the low slow
notes of a bass clarinet. Chocolate saunters
down the runway, slouches in quaint
boutiques; its style is je ne sais quoi.
Chocolate stays up late and gambles,
likes roulette. Always bets
on the noir.
From the Writer’s Almanac 4/11/2022

Sounds brave to taste the “cold slab of a cave’s interior, when all the stars have gone to sleep.” I might add ..when all the stars have gone to sleep over the ocean as I let a piece of dark chocolate with sea salt melt in my mouth. What is your favorite kind of chocolate?

Eating Through Oak Island and Southport, NC – Part 1

In preparation and eager anticipation for our move to Oak Island, North Carolina, my husband and I have been visiting the island, both on and off-season. The past week, mid-march was our third visit. The first was in last June when we fell in love with the place and bought our home. The second visit, in October, was the first time on the island as invested future residents. During these three visits, we have enjoyed a wide spectrum of tasty treats and meals.

The first lesson about Oak Island is that looks can be pleasantly and surprisingly deceiving. The unassuming appearance of a restaurant may not reflect the care and craft in the food. Like the Tardis, and my little house, things are more impressive on the inside. No unnecessary shiny, glitz, and glamor competing with the majesty of the beach, sky, and sea creatures. Oak Island accepts the beach as the main event and priority. And, it is worth the adoration.

The second lesson, for me, was that while options may be limited, most restaurants are kindly willing to explain the dish and hold an ingredient if needed. When in doubt, just ask. I did not miss pre-prepared fast food at all.

The third lesson, related to the second, is that there are so many temptations for someone watching sugar and dairy. Doughnuts, pies, cakes, and ice cream everywhere! Can’t say I mind. The honey butter with cornbread…decadent. This is a place of summer simplicity, celebration, and joy. Enjoy the cake! Especially the coconut-key-lime piecaken from Swains. Yum!

This quick post is limited to our last visit and stomach space. It also does not include the many very worthy restaurants closed for the season. Very much looking forward to continuing on this North Carolina food adventure.

So here is my incomplete list for now…with more to come…

Tranquil Harbour Restaurant – Oak Island
Cafe Koa – Southport
The Pepper Pot – Southport
The Saucy Southerner – Southport
Swains Seafood and Cut Restaurant – Oak Island
Moore Street Oyster Bar – Southport
Lil and John’s Sweet Treats – Oak Island
Southport Gourmet and Sushi – Southport
Inergy Market – Oak Island

Recipe – Egg Curry

Good for a Cold Day Tomato Onion Egg Curry
  • 4 eggs
  • 3-4 Tbs oil
  • 1 Cinnamon stick
  • 2 Cardamom pods
  • 1 medium onion sliced
  • 1-1/12 teaspoons of turmeric and chilli powder
  • 3/4 teaspoons of cumin and coriander
  • 1/2 teaspoon of fresh grated ginger
  • 1 garlic clove crushed
  • 1 chopped tomato
  • cilantro, fried onions, green chillies and garam masala to sprinkle
  1. Bring 4 eggs and enough water to cover to rolling boil. Turn off. Cover. Let sit for 15 minutes. Drain. Peel. Dust with 1/2 teaspoon each of turmeric and chili powder.
  2. Fry eggs in 2 tbs oil. There will be agressive popping sounds and splaterring. Stand back. Fry until surface acquires color and texture. Remove from pan with slotted spoon and set aside.
  3. In the same pan, add more oil if needed, add cinnamon and cardamom. Fry sliced onions until soft.
  4. Add ginger, garlic, salt, tumeric, chili powder, cumin and coriander with a 1/2 cup of water and 1/2 chopped tomato. Cook 10 mintues until tomatoes break down and forms cohesive sauce. Allow oil to separate in order to roast the spices and flavor the oil.
  5. Return eggs to pan. Add another 1/2 cup of water to create a gravy. More if you like it thinner. Simmer on low for 5 minutes.
  6. Garnish with chopped cilantro, garam masala, green chillies and fried onions (store bought is fine).
  7. Serve and enjoy with khichuri or plain rice. With the gentle heat, a hint of cinnamon, and chili-ginger heat, this was perfect to warm up on a cold snowy day.

Like most intuitive home-cooks I feel challenged by measurements and exact timings. Please use this recipe as loose guidance and inspiration, comment below with specific questions and I’ll attempt to answer.

Food Poem – Recipe for a Salad by Sydney Smith

To make this condiment, your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs;
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen-sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give;
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half-suspected, animate the whole.
Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;
But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.
And, lastly, o'er the flavored compound toss
A magic soup-spoon of anchovy sauce.
Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat!
'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat;
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl!
Serenely full, the epicure would say,
Fate can not harm me, I have dined to-day!

“Recipe for a Salad” by Sydney Smith. from the Writer’s Almanac 2/3/2022

I love the part about the onion, lurking in the bottom, animating the whole 🙂

May you be serenely full,

Hungryphil

Food Poem – Everybody Made Soups by Lisa Coffman

After it all, the events of the holidays,
the dinner tables passing like great ships,
everybody made soups for a while.
Cooked and cooked until the broth kept
the story of the onion, the weeping meat.
It was over, the year was spent, the new one
had yet to make its demands on us,
each day lay in the dark like a folded letter.
Then out of it all we made one final thing
out of the bounty that had not always filled us,
out of the ruined cathedral carcass of the turkey,
the limp celery chopped back into plenty,
the fish head, the spine. Out of the rejected,
the passed over, never the object of love.
It was as if all the pageantry had been for this:
the quiet after, the simmered light,
the soothing shapes our mouths made as we tasted.

Lisa Coffman, “Everybody Made Soups” from Less Obvious Gods. From Writer’s Almanac 2/2/2022

Wishing you warm “quiet afters” on this snowy day in the Midwest,

Hungryphil