Vietnamese Chicken Curry
Discuss kitchen equipment with passionate cooks and witness attachment to the most unlikely objects. Laurie Colwin had her cracked Meissen plate, which held any number of solo eggplant concoctions (see “Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant”, Home Cooking). Amanda Hesser has her bone-handled forks. (Cooking for Mr. Latte, The Best Food Writing,…
Easy Scallion Kimchee
Loyal readers–thank you, by the way, how amazing to even write those words–may have noted my fondness for fiery foods, a preference John doesn’t entirely share. Moderately spicy foods are okay with him, but when I dig into the Chinese hot mustard, peppers scoring off the Scoville charts, and dishes…
Back-in-the-Pot-Pork
My community college photography classmates would have decimated the shot below. After slowly feeding my ego through the wood-chipper for using color film, a choice signaling rank amateurism, the group would have settled in for a nice long discourse about compositional elements. Meaning ninety minutes on the blue rubber band. Fortunately, none…
While we wait for the next post…
We here at the IK are peering out the window, where El Niño, conspicuously absent last month, has reappeared with a vengeance. We’re also working on a long-overdue book review for our editor at PopMatters.com, where you may read our review of Bee Wilson’s excellent First Bite. While there is indeed food…
Asian Noodle Soup
This will be brief, as I am experiencing an acute episode of Right Lateral Epicondylitis, or tennis elbow. After visiting a shockingly insensitive physician Thursday, I departed with a handful of steroids and useless instructions to “do nothing”. As doing nothing is not possible, the man insisted “do something about…
Jook
“You need to go to the ER,” John said. Last Thursday night my temperature soared from its normal 97 degrees to 100.7. “Let’s stay here.” I said through chattering teeth. John doesn’t drive anymore. Going to the ER would mean driving myself, an unthinkable effort. Swallowing aspirin, I wrapped myself…
Japanese Rice Bowl
When I moved to California in 1985, it was rather like being dropped on Mars. Everything–the landscape, the weather, even the English people spoke–was different. I wandered around in a state of perpetual culture shock. The food was different, too. I’d never seen, much less tasted, authentic Chinese, Mexican, or Vietnamese…