Sunday, September 25, 2005
T minus 4 days
Thus, on Wednesday night I had a dinner of tomatoes with feta (dressed with olive oil, white wine vinegar, za'atar, oregano, salt and pepper) and baked butter beans (gigantes) with tomato sauce. Very yummy, very Greek. At that point, I officially had no more fresh fruit or veggies in the house.
Thursday, I was to have lunch with my career counselor at Armando's Caribe up in Alpharetta, so I was sure my plan would go to pieces. Instead, it turned out that Elaine treated me to my order of chicken enchiladas (which was greatly appreciated) and I told her how timely the lunch meeting was considering the situation. As a bonus, our waiter brought us an order of tostones to try as an appetizer. For dinner, I pulled out a box of Lean Cuisine chicken fettucini alfredo and polished off a can of Israeli pickles.
I worked from home of Friday, so that erased any food purchasing situations and temptations. For breakfast, I had a toasted whole wheat English muffin with pb&j (strawberry-rhubarb to be exact); for lunch, I warmed up a can of Goya red kidney beans in sauce and ate the beans with cheddar cheese and tortilla chips; and finally, later that day I went to (Shabbes) dinner with my sister at the Levine's house (onion casserole, broccoli casserole, roast chicken, brisket, cabbage and birthday cake).
Saturday was a non eventful salad of a lunch at Doc Greens (that my sister treated me to) and for dinner, I defrosted a portion of Alton Brown's meat loaf that I made a while back (see recipe link in the index). I was a happy camper. The thing is, though, I had my meat loaf, but I didn't have any mashed potatoes. I didn't have any mac and cheese. All I had was a lonely lump of loaf, plain and simple. I tell you this to preface (justify?) my late night visit to Taco Cabana....
I hadn't gone out to a club in who knows how long, and it was nice to finally hang out and dance (!) with a bunch of friends. From 80's to hip hop to dance to latin, we danced all night and broke quite a sweat. So it was ONLY APPROPRIATE that we wrap up the night at T-Cab. How ironic, though, that my only food expenditure so far in this test of wills was, by far, the least critical. I mean, I didn't need to eat, I just wanted to eat. With all due respect however, I do distinctly remember that I was, in fact, actually hungry. It's just that at 3 in the morning, no one needs to be eating anything. So I guess I should say this: yes, I could have spent two dollars on some chips and queso, but noooooo, I went for the $7.59 Mexican platter (cheese enchilada, chicken chalupa and a beef taco). I just about inhaled the whole thing, rice and beans included.
Sunday was a hodgepodge of canned and frozen goods (cheese burekas and Chef Boyardee), and I will say that I'm finally growing a bit tired of this game. I don't know if I'll be able to make it till Thursday.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Budgetary Concerns
All this, but to no avail. The expenses that are demanded by my lifestyle (salsa classes, manicures, waxing and blocks of imported parmigiano reggiano) outweigh the amount that I am paid out on a bi-weekly basis by the company I work for. The situation is not a good one, despite the fact that I pay out a reasonable amount to my 401k and savings account each month. Those funds are not to be touched, and so the balance in my checking account slowly but surely declines as I fill up my tank, buy groceries and….eat out.
There is the dilemma. Or, at least, this is the dilemma that I’ve attributed to this month’s expenditures. Looking at my statement, I’ve noticed that I’ve spent $212 on food over the last 30 days (excluding the food and restaurant checks that I charged to my dad’s AMEX when my parents came to visit). Granted, $212 over one month is far better that $40 a day, but is there a way to cut corners from the ~$50 a week average that I’ve racked up? The answer must be yes, because something has to give, and it’s not going to by my gym membership, hairdresser and occasional wardrobe purchase.
For the above reasons, today I am pledging to not spend a single dollar on food for one week. I will not eat out with friends (unless someone decides they would like to pay on my behalf) and I will not go to the supermarket (unless my sister goes and I can throw in an item or two), which means I am left to eat only that which is already in my kitchen (pasta, canned soup, jam, a tomato or two). I must defrost the meatloaf in my freezer, make sesame noodles from the spaghetti and peanut butter that are chillin in the cupboard (I’ll post the recipe), break out the Goya 16-bean mixture and make soup, pop open a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and, ta da! – make some homemade cobbler from the frozen berries I’ve ignored for a while now.
I’ll keep you posted with my progress and keep a log of my cupboard and freezer adventures. In the meantime, however, feel free to call me up and ask me out to dinner (just know that we’re not going Dutch)!
Monday, September 19, 2005
Tacos (Girl, Gimme Some!)
There's this no-name taqueria up on the Highway that I discovered a few months ago when I was hungry and didn't feel like eating any Asian food. I remember Amy, Karen and Sarah stopping to pick up some 'Com, and making them go from taco shack to taco shack in order to find the taqueria of least sketchiness to fill my taco craving. We ended up stumbling upon this joint, simply because it was the largest and wasn't attached to a grocery store, so I didn't immediately feel that there would be any language barrier.
Turns out this place has a name, which I'll post as soon as the transaction pops up on online banking, as well as a drive through. But what's really cool is that they offer $1.60 tacos, everything from melt in your mouth carnitas, to slightly charred al pastor, to tangy chorizo, cochinitas pibil, and asada. Each taco is topped with some diced white onion and cilantro and is served with an earthy red chile paste-y sauce and green tomatillo salsa. I haven't had a bad one here yet.
Each time I come here I try and order something else: flautas, sopes, quesadillas or tacos, each time with a different meat inside. Here's a picture of the chorizo quesadilla, served with rice, beans, salad, radish and a lime wedge. Although this tasted great and was filled with a very generous portion of chorizo sausage, it was quite oily (which you will find is a symptom of many chorizo dishes), so I would recommend sticking to tacos if ordering this meat.
The "mama" of the place knows the menu in and out and speaks fluent English (although some of the food is untranslatable...have courage!) but if you see a younger woman behind the counter, beware: she has no clue what is made with what and what is in what, and you won't get much help from the cooks since they only speak Spanish. All in all, though, you can't go wrong.
So when driving north on Buford, look for 1st Wok and Discolandia on your left, you will see the taqueria soon after. I'll update you as soon as I can with the establishment's details, but in the meantime, feel free to embark upon a little treasure hunt!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Laptop Laments
I repeat, not a cop out.
I just wanted to let you faithful readers know that my work-commissioned laptop is in St. Louis for repair, which is why I have not posted content-laden information since Tuesday. I do have things to tell you about (tacos) and pictures to show you (of those tacos), but they will probably have to wait until Monday (maybe if I'm lucky, tomorrow).
Why am I using my work laptop instead of my personal one, you ask? Well, my Mac G3 "Sex in the City" laptop is now over 6 years old and the operating system and web browser do not support a thing anymore. I can't even download the software for my digital camera (or iPod for that matter) because it is so old, which is why I can only upload pictures on my work laptop. Hopefully my loving parents will understand that it is time for a new machine and will finance the "investment." I know, I know, something is not an investment if its value inherently will never increase, but I think you get my drift.
Ima and aba, if you are reading this (as you should be on a regular basis) please recognize my need for a new laptop and begin to consider the possibility that my Hanukkah present will come sooner rather than later. I think I've been a very good daughter and deserve a reward. Don't you agree?
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Maxine, Put Your Dance Shoes On...
Well, no, not really....we're going to San Francisco instead, where my dear friend (and pastry chef) Maxine has started up two new blogs, the first is about her culinary explorations and the second is about her eating adventures in SF. Yay for Maxine!!
While I am already looking forward to her posts, and happy that she is doing well on the west coast, I'd by lying if I said that I was comfortable with the whole SF thing. I mean, what the hell is she doing, going to live so far away? Come back to me, Maxine, so we can write about Atlanta instead!
Monday, September 12, 2005
King Coal*
(Photo by James Camp) I busted my butt all last week to prep my apartment for my parents, who were to stay with me through the weekend. Part of this prep, in addition to scrubbing the tub, cleaning out the fridge, purchasing provisions from Eatzi’s and baking another Tarte Tatin, was making Saturday night dinner reservations.
Now if you know me, and if you know my family, then you should know that this is no ordinary task. To please my sister, the establishment must offer meat and plentiful portions. To please my mother, the restaurant must instill in her some sense of value (that magical result that = something along the lines of [quality] x [ambiance] x [price]). For my dad, it’s about “something not too fancy.” In other words, making dinner reservations for Peled party of four is an art – one that requires negotiation skills, creativity and political finesse.
And thus, armed with the above specifications, I set out on my journey to find the perfect culinary solution for Saturday night’s dinner. I didn’t have to journey far, however, since the solution was just up the Highway. Buford Highway, that is, for those of you new to this blog – my source of taco-craving-fixes, sabres, and Chinese, Vietnamese and Korean restaurants. This time, the destination was Hae Woon Dae, a Korean barbeque joint right where Buford meets 285, that Karen and Sarah introduced my to a while back.
Making the reservation itself was a slightly difficult process, mostly because the staff doesn’t speak fluent English, but also partly because I had to revise the reservation a few times in order to synchronize with my parent’s plans for that evening. The key here, guys, is that you must specify a barbeque table when making your reservation. Don’t forget. This is key.
I will let Bill Addison from Creative Loafing tell you the rest since he talks about everything we ordered, from the seafood pancake to the kalbi and bulgogi:
Did we really need to start with the kimchi pancake?
Not that Hae Woon Dae's version is in any way inferior. We each swiftly scarf down a couple crispy-slouchy slices filled with notably mild vegetables that have none of the fermented tang usually associated with kimchi. But my tablemates and I know that this nibble we ordered is only delaying the main event. We gaze impatiently at the covered hole in the center of our table, and crane our heads to see what's cooking in front of other customers around the restaurant.
We're waiting for the Fire Bearer.
He emerges from the depths of the kitchen at last, headed in our direction. His bucket lands with a dense thunk. We instinctively lean back in our chairs. Out of the bucket he lifts a cauldron of lambent, ashy wood coals. He lowers it precisely into the center of the table's metal pit, then covers it with a gold, perforated lid. I try to catch his eye to say thanks, but he disappears without a backward glance.
It's only a job - a toasty and probably dangerous job - to this guy in a T-shirt with a baseball cap on his head. But to us it is the chivalrous ritual that signals our meal of Korean barbecue will now begin in earnest.
Our server with the fire engine-red lipstick swoops in with numerous plates of pan chan, the sides of vegetables that accompany the main course, which include cabbage kimchi (potent when not fried into a sphere of pancake dough), cubes of daikon radish kimchi, soybean sprouts, spinach and - perhaps in deference to American barbecue - a tussock of mayonnaise-y coleslaw. She retrieves baskets of fluffy lettuce leaves, and a small tray of sweet been paste next to raw slices of jalapeno and garlic.
Meanwhile, neatly prepared plates of raw meat have been lined up on a nearby empty table. First up on the grill: bulgogi, the classic marinated beef for Korean barbecue that literally translates as "fire meat." Flashing a crimson smile at our excited faces, the server jettisons the meat into the center of the grill. The flames underneath leap greedily and the smoke delivers a primal scent that kicks my salivary glands into overdrive.
She returns with tongs and a pair of scissors to snip the meat into bite-size pieces. As the meat turns from sanguine to grayish-pink, she shuffles the cooked morsels to the outer rim of the surface. Our party of four has only one Korean barbecue novice, and we show him the system: You can eat the meat as is, or wrap it in a lettuce leaf slicked with a discreet amount of the bean paste.
Oh, wow. It's been years since I've been to Hae Woon Dae, but right now I can't imagine staying away longer than a week. The traditional marinade of soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar and garlic mellows over the fire and enhances the beefiness of the meat rather than masquerades it. And the ribald, smoky flavor! You just don't get that from the gas grills most Korean restaurants use for tabletop cooking (if the restaurant opts to even cook the food with the table grill at all).
The rapturous bulgogi inspires a giddy bout of research. Of the 15 items available from the "Wooden Charbroiled B.B.Q." menu, I do forgo the intestines and beef tongue but I don't bypass the pork bacon. And guess what? It's just bacon. No intrigue there, though Hae Woon Dae does stay open until 6 a.m. After an all-night bender, a little fire-licked bacon might be just the thing for an early breakfast.
Skip the shrimp, too. It doesn't translate in the same deliriously carnivorous way as its cousins farther along on the food chain.
Kalbi - short rib meat cut from the bone - is the other popular choice for Korean barbecue. It has a silkiness that I actually prefer over bulgogi. When I sup here henceforth, I will never fail to order kalbi or the pork variation of bulgogi. With apologies to Texan epicures, pork is the ultimate barbecue meat, no matter from what part of the world the cooking method hails. It reacts in exactly the right ways: Some pieces become crispy and chewy, others sumptuously tender.
Unless you're a habitué to this kind of dining and crave some variety, I also resolutely recommend the marinated meats over their non-marinated counterparts. The unseasoned meat has less " everything. Less texture, less flavor, less savor - though a shallow dish of salted sesame oil is provided and does impart some gustatory warmth.
When you're seated at Hae Woon Dae, amongst its eerie, Indiana-Jones-does-Asia splendor, you might be surprised at how large the menu is. And several things beyond the barbecue are indeed worth adventurous exploration (cue the John Williams score).
Despite my impatience at appetizer time, the three varieties of Korean-style pancakes offer their own unique pleasures: The kimchi pancake has a light crunch from its chockablock veggies and feels virtuous before consuming all that animal protein. Fresh seafood lightens another pancake, though the squeamish should know that bits of squid are discernible among the shrimp and scallops. Also be warned that the hot peppers in the third pancake ain't no joke. You might be requesting a glass of milk.
On one visit I discover that jap chae noodles mingle nicely with the barbecued meats. The menu states that the noodles are made from rice, but I suspect they might actually be created from the starch of white sweet potato, which yields glossy, pleasantly gummy strands I've encountered in other Korean restaurants.
I tiptoe into the soup and stew offerings without much vehemence. If I want soon doo bu, the silken tofu stew that comes to the table in an angry roil that lasts for minutes, I'll drive just up the street to Cho Dang Tofu, which specializes in that dish. Hae Woon Dae's soon doo bu doesn't have much spicy gumption, though its custardy nature tastes comforting enough between bites of meat.
Sigh. We've eaten our way through four different types of barbecue, and now our kindly but efficient server begins the crushing denouement. She scrapes the last of the bulgogi atop the grill onto a plate. The grill cover is blackened. It must be hell to scrub those things clean.
The Fire Bearer appears once more. Wearing a mitt that looks to be constructed from asbestos, he grabs the cover, flings it in his bucket full of water, then reaches into the pit and grabs the cauldron of coals. A cold metal lid goes atop the hole in the table. The vent stops whirring overhead. Game over. Please insert another coin.
We sit, feeling irrationally dejected, while we half-heartedly peck at complimentary wedges of watermelon and wait for the check. Hmm. Should we go grab some ice cream, or should we just start the whole meal all over again?
*(“King Coal” by Bill Addison, published Sep. 7, 2005; Creative Loafing Atlanta)
Conclusion: for the Peled family, the price was right, the food was great and the experience unique and “not too fancy.” The parents loved it, the sister tamed her carnivorous desires and I got props. I just hope that Mr. Addison’s article doesn’t inspire all of Atlanta to head over to my old faithful. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see….
Friday, September 09, 2005
Dim Sum Wars
China Delight was the dim sum destination as I drove up the Highway in search of crystal shrimp dumplings and better cart-path-efficiency. This time I went with a dim sum virgin, a coworker of mine who just happened to move in to my apartment complex, so I was particularly eager to provide a memorable eating experience. Hence, old faithful China Delight.
It was really fun to watch Nicki get excited over the little treasures, and be aggressive and order things that looked appealing to her. One of the dishes she picked that I would never have chosen was the sweet coconut rolls.
While they were great, I would have preferred having some roast pork buns instead, if I’m already going to eat some bun. Carb-consciousness, y’all.
Yet I found that I didn’t enjoy CD’s rice noodles as much as Canton House’s flat noodles with XO sauce. And CD’s sautéed greens (perhaps mustard, I’m not sure) were not nearly as tasty as CH’s sweeter version. From jasmine tea to mushroom spring rolls, everything was great, especially the crystal shrimp dumplings! Yay for the dumplings! It’s funny how my stomach turned, though, as I downloaded the picture of the dumplings from my camera…do you guys notice the prominent shrimp veins exposing themselves through the crystal? Totally unacceptable in a way, but yet, so pleasant regardless of that small fact. Ah, well. It won’t kill me...shrimp shit won’t kill me, right?
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Give Me A Wide Berth
I have been trying to loose some weight these past few weeks in anticipation for a Labor Day surprise long weekend vacation, during which I knew I was going to be in a swim suit (and had I known about the corporate event we had up at Lake Lanier two weeks ago, I would have begun this project a little bit more in advance), and so I’ve been pretty decent about hitting up the gym on a regular basis and preparing portioned controlled lunches in advance. It turned out that the surprise, a good one indeed, was a four day cruise to the Bahamas. Like a pot-head with munchies, seven sheets to the wind, I just could not stop eating as soon as I stepped foot on that ship. From meal to meal I was never hungry, and yet found myself eating seven course dinners, filling plates at the midnight buffets, sneaking in rolls of sushi before dinner, and snacking on chips and salsa when available. Before the turndown chocolates ever reached their respective pillows, they were already melting away in my mouth.
Whatever progress I had seen before noon on 9/1 quickly disappeared after my fourth appetizer during dinner that same night. What’s more, the food was not mind blowing; the lobster tail was gummy, the salmon was dry, the chicken was frozen, the pasta overcooked. So why the all out gorge fest?
Who the hell knows. Maybe it was because I was on vacation, or that my parents weren’t there to criticize, or that I had worked hard to allow myself to indulge a bit, or that my companion ended up eating more that I ever thought humanly possible. Whatever the reason, I regret it. I regret putting back on the weight I had lost and I regret doing it for food that wasn’t outstanding. I regret that I ate so much that now I feel sick at the sight of food and that I have lost all sense of when I’m hungry, when I’m full, and what is an acceptable amount of food to eat during meals. My body is out of whack and I hate the feeling. Talk about going overboard...
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Tarte Tatin
Last weekened, not this past one, was Charlotte’s birthday (as you would have known from my previous post), and being that Char is a dear friend of mine and that she’s French, I thought I would make her a very French dessert for the birthday dinner that she herself prepared for the occasion.
The situation was a no-brainer – I was making Tarte Tatin à Lamotte Beuvon! I pulled a few recipes to compare the method, and decided to use the one out of The Gourmet Cookbook, and the only thing I did differently was lower the heat when caramelizing the sugar and butter on the stove (Food Network told me to cook on med-low, Gourmet told me to cook on med-high, so I just used plain old medium).
The first step is to peel, core and brush with lemon anywhere from 7-9 apples (depending on the size of dem apples). Here is a picture of my peeled, cored, quartered and lemoned apples:
And here is a picture of the cores:
I know you loved that one.
Next, take out your puff pastry sheet from the freezer (no way in hell was I making that pastry from scratch!) and let it thaw. Spread (or thinly slice) ½ stick of butter down in the bottom and on the sides of your cast iron pan, and then sprinkle ½ cup of sugar on top of the butter. After that, arrange your apple quarters in a pretty concentric pattern so that they fit tightly together:
Pretty, isn’t it?
Then, after setting your pan on a medium heat burner, let the sugar and butter turn into a golden brown caramel, about 25 minutes I think, and then promptly stick your pan into the oven at about 425˚ F. Let your apples bake for another 20 minutes. During the time that your apples are caramelizing and then baking, roll the puff pastry sheet to that it is large enough to cut out a 10” circle (use a dinner plate to measure), assuming you are using a 10” pan, of course. If you finish doing all this before your apples come out of the over, put the puff pastry on a baking sheet and stick it in the fridge until you need it.
When the apples come out of the oven, lay your pastry circle on top of them making sure you tuck the edges into the pan and around the apples. Prick the thing a little with a fork, but not too much (you want your apples to slightly steam and get soft). This is what it looks like:
Finally, bake your pastry covered caramel apples until the pastry turns golden brown, about 25 more minutes. This is what it looks like when it comes out of the oven:
Cool the tart for about 10 minutes then invert into a serving plate.Now eat!!
