my sisters, my taste (part one)

anita

She rubbed at me, pulled me into place to massage my scalp into a raw-feeling moistness with thick, cloying coconut oil from that opaque blue bottle that seemed to accompany any decent South Asian woman’s repertoire. She would criticize my posture, the bagginess of my clothing, how well I listened to what she was saying, my tendency to slam car doors unintentionally. She would even criticize my methods of disobeying our strict parents, gloatingly describing her own temper tantrums from when they lived in far-off Pakistan.
The way she treated me, I might as well have been a prototypical orphan. I suspect she disapproved of the way my mother raised me and my sister closest in age to me, the other set of kids, the ones who were in diapers when she was starting high school. People would compare the two of us, with our round faces and our father’s skin tone and complexion. The other two were lighter, like my mother. I suspect this made her willing to be even more critical of me, her low self-esteem telling her to stop me from making any mistakes she made. When I was very young, this wasn’t understandable, and I just thought she liked my other sister better.
Her relationship with my father, who I adored and revered, feared and protected, was rocky for unexplained reasons. “Wait until you’re older, jaan.” For a few years they didn’t even speak, she lived in far off Texas, the sister-daughter to another family, one of our older cousins. Then she returned, we visited Texas, there was an extended family mediated reunion, she touched my father’s feet in the sign of respect that I was so accustomed to from Bollywood films. When my father was getting bypass surgery done, he went all the way to Mt. Sinai hospital in Illinois, far from our new home in Winston-Salem, NC. While I understand that Mt. Sinai was a hospital he trusted, with great surgeons, I also wonder if he just did not want his children to see him so vulnerable, to really understand the risk he was in. She took care of us, she took care of the house, she took care of the jewelry store. Put her life on hold, with also a quiet fear that if he died, would this be her future?

Her dinners were always different from my mother’s, she worried about her weight not because she was vain, but because she was told to. In hindu and urdu, the word for chubby is “moti” Growing up in Pakistan, her nickname was “timo”, ie moti backwords. For even across the world, calling someone fat is an insult. She cooked Indian food well, it was her first culture after all, but what foods I associated with her were the ubiquitious pasta salads she would make. Tri-color rotini pasta, with minced vegetables and slices of black olives, whipped into an italian-herb vinaigrette.
Also her sandwiches were devine. She knew how to bring out simple flavors, not overwhelm ingredients. This is something I enjoy trying my hand at. She made us poached chicken sandwiches. Poaching chicken breasts in a simple water bath with minimal aromatics, she would tear at the cooled chicken, until it became a pile of shredded meat. She put this mixture into a stainless steel bowl, dropping in a large dollop of either mayonnaise or miracle whip, something my mother would never stock in her own pantry or fridge. At this point she would season the whole thing, if it was on hand through in some minced celery, if not that was alright too. She threw in black pepper, something I associated with those white and red rectangular tins, with three openings on top: for sprinkling, for measuring, and for dumping a large quantity.
A sheet of plastic wrap would cover the bowl while it sat in the fridge, waiting to be spread onto soft white bread slices, topped with another slice of squishy bread. The sandwiches would wait for me in the mornings when we packed our lunches, or for day trips to her apartment.

She is getting married next month, moving across the country to the West Coast. The first wedding amongst my siblings, later in life than most desi women. She is the fierce one, so strong willed, so independent. For my older cousins and their children, who are my age now, for her coworkers, for her friends, she is everyone’s sister, everyone’s Apa. Now she will be a wife, a step-mother, and who knows what else.

The picture is from her engagement party, from L to R is Mohsan (my new brother in law), Sunny (our cousin and one of Apa’s best friends), and my beautiful henna-ed sister Anita.

great mama

happy mother’s day to my mama, who worked full time, owner her own business, and still woke up extremely early to make sure I had an almond to help with my schooling, packed a lunch for me and put a little sweet fruit in it, was a glamorous hostess, and always rolled with the punches. she learned how to use Facebook, she perferred Beyonce, she wore sneakers with her shalwar kameez, she read and reread the autobiography of malcolm x and kept an extra copy to give to anyone she hoped to convert to islam. she told me to pray for michael jackson after news of his death, for he too was a muslim brother.

thanks for being a great mama.

also, check out my post on the fsu blog — feministstudentsunited.org

channa masala; challenging assumptions

this post is dedicated to Jesi Harris

Channa masala isn’t very glamorous, it consists of mainly pantry-staple ingredients, included canned chickpeas and tomatoes. I personally feel as if I am capable of making more complex South Asian dishes, but I know that my channa masala is a winner. It’s vegetarian, easily made dairy-free if need be, it’s cheap as long as you have a stacked spice cupboard, it is great as leftovers, delicious with fancy naan, healthy brown rice, or stale tortillas.

People love my channa masala. They try and recreate it and always tell me they don’t get it quite as well as I do, with “my recipe”. Some folks will be subtle about it, others will be blunt – it is assumed that I can master the techniques of channa masala better than others because of my ethnic background. That I must have grown up with channa masala, that it was handed down to me from my ancestors, that they couldn’t possibly understand how to char and caramelize onions the way I do.

Nope. I couldn’t successfully make ANYTHING before I started college, and my mom always felt it was more vital to pass down recipes/cooking techniques to my older sister, wanting me to stay her baby for as long as possible. Also, channa masala wasn’t in our families regular repotoire, it’s just something I think is yummy that I could get at the ornately decorated Indian restaurants I was forced to attend as a child. And, last but not least, the recipe template I use, the techniques I learned, came from a white man named Brandon Pettit who owns a fancy pizza restaurant called Delancey in Seattle.

wait, what?
Yes, really. Brandon is married to Molly Wizenberg, who writes for an acclaimed food blog called Orangette. The recipe she posted was credited to him, and has a great explanation for how to completely spice the carmelized onion base of the dish, and then still get a tender texture for the chickpeas, instead of a too-firm bite. I try to add both the whole-milk yogurt and the lemon, but if you have to go with only one route, pick the yogurt. Skip the cilantro if you prefer, and putz around with what spices you do have. If you don’t have yogurt, cream is alright.

The thing with these sorts of assumptions is that they don’t always turn out to be compliments, they can hurt. In my case, it’s a mystification associated with India that is false, that South Asians are less intellectual, and more spiritual. It’s the necklace I saw my friend wearing at Weaver Street Market recently, a decal of the Hindu god Ganesh, to match with her outfit. It’s the laughably incorrect way that yoga classes are often ended with an extended definition of namaste. These assumptions about what word is ok to use, and the carelessness that often accompanies labeling people as the other, should be challenged. Today I am going to find some links on articles that educate my readers on how to challenge discrimination when they see it, and also on how to check your own language/assumptions.

for a clearer image, right click-view image-enlarge

Channa Masala
copied from Orangette, Feb 2006
images are mine

This channa masala can be served in two different styles: with a half-cup of whole-milk yogurt to smooth and soften the flavors, or sans yogurt, served with a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of fresh cilantro.

Good-quality olive oil
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
2 medium cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp ground coriander
¼ tsp ground ginger
1 tsp garam masala
3 cardamom pods, lightly crushed
1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes
1 tsp kosher salt, or to taste
1 Tbs cilantro leaves, roughly torn, plus more for garnish
A pinch of cayenne, or to taste
2 15-ounce cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
6-8 Tbs plain whole-milk yogurt, optional
A few lemon wedges, optional

Film the bottom of a large saucepan or Dutch oven—preferably not nonstick—with olive oil, and place the pan over medium heat. Add the onion, and cook, stirring frequently, until it is deeply caramelized and even charred in some spots. Be patient. The more color, the more full-flavored the final dish will be.

Reduce the heat to low. Add the garlic, stirring, and add a bit more oil if the pan seems dry. Add the cumin seeds, coriander, ginger, garam masala, and cardamom pods, and fry them, stirring constantly, until fragrant and toasty, about 30 seconds. Add ¼ cup water, and stir to scrape up any brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Cook until the water has evaporated away completely. Pour in the juice from can of tomatoes, followed by the tomatoes themselves, using your hands to break them apart as you add them; alternatively, add them whole and crush them in the pot with a potato masher. Add the salt.

Raise the heat to medium, and bring the pot to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, add the cilantro and cayenne, and simmer the sauce gently, stirring occasionally, until it reduces a bit and begins to thicken. Taste, and adjust the seasoning as necessary. Add the chickpeas, stirring well, and cook over low heat for about five minutes. Add 2 Tbs water, and cook for another five minutes. Add another 2 Tbs water, and cook until the water is absorbed, a few minutes more. This process of adding and cooking off water helps to concentrate the sauce’s flavor and makes the chickpeas more tender and toothsome. Taste, and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Stir in the yogurt, if you like, or garnish with lemon wedges and cilantro. Serve.

Yield: About four servings

a collection of small updates

these are all the things that may not be worthy of a full post. please bare with me as I continue to update thepeople’stable, I know it has been a while.

much love,
Eva
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Steph and Nicole made a cake in honor of the anniversary of Biggie’s death.
I was highly impressed with the level of love and professionalism that went into decorating this cake. Clearly, they were too — they walked it over to Open Eye just to show it off.

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Jesi was in town, so Andy and Stacey came over, and we got into some shenanigans. Andy made us mint juleps!

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Whenever Stacey spends the night/weekend, we feast! I have so much fun, we combine all sorts of random deliciousness. Stacey and I are going to start a business — she will sell wigs, I will write corny greeting card one liners regarding cats, and we will peddle my channa masala to anyone with a buck. Or something like that. Rakhee and Stacey and I created a delicious meal for our late breakfast – sweet potato hash, thick slices of applewood smoked bacon, almond-crusted french toast, steaming hot cups of real masala chai, warm maple syrup, and bananas. Then we proceeded to coat everything in a thin layer of marscapone.

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I’ve updated my links section to include useful references and activist networks I am inspired by. The above link next to about, called food blogs, is just that — a list of the food blogs I read frequently/weekly/some daily.

celebrating sisterhood; ravioli soup

I know, I know, cheezus christ it has been a long time since I have posted here. I’ve had some ups and downs recently, both affecting my motivation to write on a blog. I’ve been working on writing better recipes, learning fascinating things about seasoning food in my class, hanging out too much with people/pets, and re-centering myself. I had set out to write up this post over a month ago, and it spoke mainly about a few of my friends. I wanted to revamp this, and talk about celebrating my women friends. Because of this delay in posting, I plan on posting at least 3 recipes within the next couple of days, mainly to appease my fans/hecklers (I’m looking at you, Stacey and Sarah).

This past weekend, feminist students united brought over a group of amazing women who inspire us, from the other side of the country: the oakland sister circle! Among our group, we had circulated their zine, read their story, and saw our own in the process. The effects of misogyny and counter-organizing had touched our communities, our lives. They led a workshop that brought us to begin brainstorming about taking the power back in our lives.

One of the sisters asked us a question that got me thinking: what have we done to have collaborative action against misogyny in our lives? It also made me appreciate my women friends more, the people in my life whose words build me up, who see my pain but also my joy, who allow me to be, to feel, to cook, to cry. Who are probably reading this post right now.
We come together over a common cause, we strategize how best to help our friends, we play music at each other’s parties, we get giddy over costume parties, and cut our friend’s hair for them.
It reminds me of my relationship with my two blood-sisters, Uzma and Anita. No matter how many tiffs I get into with them, I know they will have my back. Being a part of my support system is second nature to them. Uzma and I used to squabble a lot growing up, but now I truly think of her as one of my best friends. She is who I got my love of cooking from, she taught me all the basics. I think she is smart and capable, but also overflows with care and wisdom. I want to walk in her footprints, plow in her gardens.
Anita has always been strict with me, and our relationship has not been very warm because of it. But I know that I can always go to her for advice, because she too is a strong woman who has had to take care of herself, who has dealt with the ebb and flow of life. She’s getting married this summer, and moving to California. I don’t really think that has sunk in for me yet.

Here in North Carolina, I have my extended chosen family. I have Sarah, who I share a strong affinity with. I have Laurel, whose smile and dance moves lift my spirits to new heights. I have Rakhee, who makes every late evening worth it, and who has changed my life for the better. I have Nicole, who I mercilessly tease, but actually truly admire. I have Mary, who loves me from afar, and Maddie, who checks in on me regularly. And so many more, my network may not be as large as some, but it is tightly woven.

One night, way too long ago to admit, this meeting of souls for something greater than our parts happened, and began with Sarah and I taking a trip to the grocery store to improvise something to cook. Sarah is a great cook, she taught me a lot, and often wows me with impressive cakes or entrees. She and I lived together this summer, and we would also dream up the next delicious thing to eat. We had planned to go over to Nicole’s place and make dinner for her, my too busy friend. We didn’t know until we arrived, that we would also be feeding Sarah Hirsch and Katie Moore, another example of a classic lesson: always prepare to make slightly more food than you expect to need. I mean, don’t always double it, that can just be wasteful and such. We needed something filling, but also easily accepted by a wide range of taste paletes. Also, it needed to be meat-less. So we went with a staple of young people’s diets, pasta. Other staples include mac n cheese, popcorn, and sandwiches. I remembered a picture I had seen on a magazine, it looked to be a soup with ravioli in it. Sarah and I broke down what we thought the components were, and took a risk. Voila, ravioli soup with mushrooms and basil!
This will be an improvised recipe, not with specific measurements, because that was not the way the meal was actually prepared. If you have any questions about its executions, please post a comment on the blog. You do not need to have a wordpress account to post a comment.

We boiled the prepared raviolis (in our case, two 10 oz packages of spinach and cheese ravioli) in 2 quarts of vegetable stock. Always choose stock over broth when buying convenience soup bases.

Sarah sauteed a pound of sliced cremini mushrooms (often marketed as ‘baby bellas’) in approximately 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter. I added a tiny splash of olive oil to the butter, because olive oil has a higher smoking point, and would allow the mushrooms to take their time, instead of rushing to not burn the butter. When working with melted butter, work quickly.

After the raviolis were done, we drained them but remembered to reserve 2 cups of the vegetable stock. This highly flavorful liquid was now also infused with the starches that boiled off of the pasta. It became half of the base of our soup, the rest was 2 jars of prepared tomato sauce. Whatever you have on hand, Sarah had brought some from her apartment, I think they were four cheese and marinara. Whisk in the stock with the sauce, until it has the consistency that appeals to you and your sisters.
At this point, spoon in the ravioli and the sauteed mushrooms, and take a taste of the soup. Add as much black pepper, salt, or crushed red pepper as your heart desires. Or forgo all of that and grate some hard Parmesan into it, for the umami/savori taste, along with a salt kick. At the very end, stir in some fresh basil from your garden, or the farmers market, or the fridge. If you tear the leaves, they brown quicker, which I personally think cuts their flavor. Do not be afraid of large pieces of basil!

We were giggly at this point, tearing apart large chunks of bread, drinking coffee mugs filled with limeade. We decided to take our dinner outside, and at this point, the sisterhood and laughter really began. We talked about crushes, jealousy among women friends, our comfort levels with going out to bars/clubs, etc etc. And we teased Maebe the dog and took pictures, dipping larger chunks of bread into our soup bowls.

tandoori chicken tacos & grilled corn (elote)

Google Maps tells me that it takes me about 12 minutes to walk to the taco truck that parks at Fitch Lumber over the weekend nights. What Google Maps omits is the ugly truth — I have to get dressed to go outside if it is cold, I gotta find my phone, wallet, and keys, and I need to have cash. Then after I walk there and get two taco al pastors, or one taco al pastor and one elote, a grilled corn cob that is covered in a thin layer of mayonnaise and queso fresco, each being a $4 purchase, I still have to walk home.

But sometimes it is what I want, I want to take a stroll, order from the nicest woman in town, squeeze out a condiment cup’s worth of green salsa and red salsa, pick up tiny lime wedges with metal tongs. Sometimes I want the walk, the fresh air. Other times I want the convenience, the affordability. It’s nice to go with a group of friends, especially as the final note to the song of your night. But even alone, when I have work on the brain, or I’m just wiped from a day at work, this is a delicious luxury I am glad to have nearby.

But the other night (Friday), when I was faced with deciding what to make with my two close friends, Kayla and Andy, I wanted something that bursted with flavor, but was appropriate for a Friday night. After deciding that I did want to use some of the food in my kitchen, we came up with a seemingly crazy idea – indian-mexican food.

That’s the chicken breasts marinading in a yogurt sauce, and on the right I’m warming up flour tortillas on the stove.

Tandoori chicken is often seen at Indian buffet joints, it’s broiled or grilled, and as red as…well, RED 40 the food coloring that makes it that way. Normal, non-restaurant, tandoori chicken is a yellowy-brownish hue. Basically the yogurt marinade keeps the meat moist even under the high heat and close contact to it’s source. I had no idea how well this would go, but I felt confident nonetheless. Tandoori chicken with pineapple cilantro salsa, a quick raita (indian yogurt sauce), alongside grilled corn. In Indian cuisine, grilled corn would have cayenne and salt, with a squeeze of lime.

tandoori chicken
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts or 4 thighs
1 cup yogurt, preferably whole milk, full fat, or Greek (i.e. the thicker the better)
1 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp cayenne
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp tumeric
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
1 tsp minced garlic
1 tsp minced ginger

Mix spices into yogurt, cover chicken with marinading mixture, and let rest in the fridge in a large bowl for as long as you like. Really, I did it for about 10 minutes because I was impatient. But anywhere from 3-45 minutes would be fine. Then cover a pan in foil, places chicken along with leftover marinade mix into pan and broil for 15 minutes. Then flip the chicken, and broil again for another 10-15 minutes until chicken is cooked all the way through.

pineapple salsa
1 can crushed pineapple, approx 14 oz
1/2 cup finely minced cilantro
1 T vegetable oil
1 T water
1 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp salt

Drain the water out of the crushed pineapples as much as possible. Mix ingredients into a bowl, then also place in fridge, this time for at least 10 minutes.

elote
4 cobs of sweet corn
mayonnaise
salt
ground black pepper
1 tsp cayenne

In a cast iron skillet, place the cobs on a pan at medium-high heat. Turn occasionally, until desired amount of browned kennels is achieved. Remove from pan. Spread a thin layer of mayonnaise onto each one, then sprinkle with salt, pepper, cayenne.

also,
4 flour tortillas
2 limes, cut into wedges
1/3 cup yogurt
handful of ciltantro
1 tsp cumin seeds
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1/4 tsp chaat masala (optional)
1/2 cup queso fresco

Make the raita — mix 1/3 cup yogurt with cilantro, cumin seeds, salt, pepper, and chaat masala. Sprink chaat masala onto corn cobs. Squeeze lime onto corn before enjoying – it really helps the flavors pop.

Assemble the tacos: flour tortillas, sliced tandoori chicken, a drizzle of raita, a few spoons of the pineapple salsa, cilantro, and queso fresco. Best enjoyed with a beer.

UPDATE — I tried this with tempeh, and it was just as yummy, only it needed less time in the oven. I am thinking that it would be amazing with shrimp, paneer, firm tofu, whatever protein you wanted to try.

race, class, & a late night dinner

the thing that always had me remain a reader of food blogs, a daydreamer who absorbed as much as I could, and never the other way around, the thing that made me think this would be a difficult endeavor, is class. I don’t have a fancy camera, I don’t have enough money to pay for a cheap domain host, to be honest, I don’t even have enough money for a varied diet sometimes, rich in colors and vegetables and different textures. My kitchen does not have a blender, a toaster oven, a food processor, a mandoline slicer, a grill pan, or any of those fancy but very useful appliances and accessories that seem to be more and more commonplace these days. I wish I had those things, but they remain on a wish list these days.

money is tight for many of the people in my life, and has been for me ever since I was in high school. I allow myself, as an occasional luxury purchase, to shop from used bookstores for something I’d like to read, a nice piece of cheese every once in a while, and pure ingredients instead of processed food. blah, blah, unhealthy, chemicals, blah blah but really, y’all it just ain’t that tasty! pad thai from a restaurant can be delicious, but pad thai from a microwaveable bowl in the international aisle of your grocery store is just icky.
ok, so making pad thai isn’t easy for everyone. that comes later, I make a simplified, healthier pad thai that has all the important flavors and none of the industrial ranges of the restaurant dish.

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I want my food blog to reflect how I actually live, with a new digital camera from my older sister, a limited range of transportation to groceries because I have neither a bike or a car, simple, everyday appliances I have in my Carrboro kitchen, and, most importantly, cheaply. I try to eat healthy (lots of colors on a plate, smaller meals spread apart in the day, writing down what I eat every day to keep track, whole grains instead of bleached powders, etc etc) but ya know, sometimes at the end of the day I just want a glass of boxed wine and a grilled cheese sandwich. What I am trying to say is, let me be relatable, tell me what you want to see me make and document for you, criticize me if I am being too esoteric or unrealistic to your needs.

Last night, I traveled to Durham for my culinary arts course, it is through the continuing education department of Durham Technical Community College. I leave Franklin St at 4:40pm, get to the Durham Station by around 5:30pm, get to my class at the Durham Rescue Mission at 6:00pm on the dot, stay in class until 9, then travel to the bus station again, where the next bus to Franklin St doesn’t arrive until 10pm. By the time I walk home from Franklin St in Chapel Hill to my apartment in Carrboro off W. Main St, it’s around 11:30pm! I’m hungry and tired, I have work the next day at the toy store, and I miss my kitten.
The pictures you have seen so far of me in my class, we had a kitchen day and were practicing complicated knife cuts. Even though I haven’t been in this class for too long, I have learned some useful things that I wanted to share with you:

— dried herbs pack more flavor than fresh herbs. this is probably a surprise for most of us, since we are always told that the fresher the better, right? fresh herbs can be a nice topping or garnish, and of course would be influential in a salsa or pesto. but dried herbs are concentrated, condensed, and pack a punch.
–do you also get emotional and tear up when cutting onions? try soaking the onion in cold water first
–be careful when covering food with aluminum foil for fridge storage, or really for any other reason. chemicals in the aluminum negatively react with acidic foods. wrap the bowl or platter with saran wrap first for storage.

You know that the situation is different when this is what was on our desks:
and .
Also our pop quizzes include a random student selected to perfectly cut a pineapple the proper way in front of our instructor, or to make a flower basket out of a cantaloupe. We learn serious cooking techniques, the art of creating your own recipes, presentation skills, and safety and sanitation procedures. My group is Team Masala. More info on the class is saved for later entries.

Even though we got to each a portion of fruit salad at the end of the class, since I got home so late I was still hungry. I wanted something quick and light. Not something blogworthy, necessarily, just cheap and based on my current meager fridge contents. So I made something up, as usual. But I ended up being pretty proud of my creation. It was quick (about 15 minutes), cheap, and filling.

I don’t know what to call this. Remember the last entry I posted? I made a pasta dish with hot italian chicken sausage and sauteed kale. Unlike those professional quality food blogs, I don’t go grocery shopping every day. Like you, I make things out of leftovers, I reuse ingredients, and eat simple food. I took one of the leftover chicken sausages and sliced in half lengthwise, and about a palm’s worth of kale. I sauteed those in the same pan but on separate sides. The chicken sausage got just a very light spray of vegetable oil. The kale got the full treatment: kosher salt, black pepper, red chili flakes, minced garlic, olive oil. This took about 7 minutes tops. From the pantry I took out two potato bread hot dog rolls. I toasted one in the oven quickly, left the other squishy. I smeared both with mayonnaise and good mustard, and then put half a chicken sausage in each. The toasted bun also got the crispy, sauteed kale. The soft bun got two thin slices of bread and butter pickles from the fridge and a squeeze of ketchup.

While all of this was happening, I also peeled a single sweet potato that I have had around for way too long, and cut up 4 small purple fingerling potatoes. Fingerling potatoes are meant to be skin on. They are really pretty, I should have taken a shot of what they look like inside. I plopped all of this in a pot of lightly salted simmering water on the stove, and let it boil until the sweet potatoes were soft but the fingerlings were only half-way ready for mashing.

Too many times with sweet potatoes, people accentuate the natural sweetness with brown sugar and cinnamon and marshmallows, not allowing the root vegetable to speak for itself. It is a nice contrast to just mash these up, plop in half a tablespoon of unsalted butter, another sprinkling of kosher salt, and a healthy dose of ground black peppercorns (approximately half of a tablespoon), and about 1/4 a cup of milk or other creamer. Again, I just made this recipe up. I was too tired to be exact.

My next post promises to be a real recipe, one you can follow and comment on.

I want to leave you with some commentary from an adorable little girl about how the situation in Egypt with now ousted Hosni Mubarak went down.

daily dose of kale

kale, chicken sausage, and parmesan over rotini

everyone says posting frequently is important when starting a new blog — I had planned on making something new tonight, documenting the process, etc etc. But instead, I turned to an old standby. This is something that many of us do on a weeknight such as today (Monday), but we each have a few different tricks up our sleeves. Some of my friends make a hearty sandwich, my housemate sautes mushrooms and peppers or whatever else we have in the fridge, with slices of pre-made polenta, for younger friends it’s packaged foods. When you understand flavors, you can make a delicious, photo-worthy meal any night. even a night when my only companion is luna:

one of my standby formulas is — protein + cheese + green + pasta
tonight, I sauteed hot italian chicken sausage, garlic, and kale, spooning the finished mixture over a bowl of rotini, sprinkling parmesan flakes to contemplate the flavors. I crusted up a piece of soft french bread in the oven and served it with herbes de provence and extra virgin olive oil.

I suppose the next thing I will have to try is chocolate kale:

pumpkin cardamom muffins & a revolutionary potluck

I’ve been known to say that learning to cook isn’t about writing the perfect recipe, or working your way through a cookbook — no, it’s about knowing basic techniques and understanding flavor. I read cookbooks, subscribe to food blogs, and learn from friends all to get inspiration on flavors. I’m starting this blog to chronicle what I learn in my culinary classes, the recipes I mash together to feed my friends, and the social justice movements I work in. read more about me on my about page

Yesterday, I had to throw something together for a potluck at my comrade Dante’s house in Durham. I didn’t know what to bring, and I only had two hours to think of something — not enough time to walk to the grocery store and back. There’s a lack of public transportation on Sundays in the South. Maybe I’ll bake something. I’m used to creating my own sandwiches, pizzas, curries, and soups. I’m used to winging it with salads and appetizers, snacks and cocktails. But with baking? All the ratios, the correct temperatures, all to the exact minute, baking soda or baking powder? Best to leave it to the experts, right?
Wrong!
So, for the first recipe on the people’s table, this is an original muffin recipe from yours truly.

Pumpkin Cardamom Muffins
makes 12 muffins

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed firmly
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon cardamom
1 cup canned pumpkin (from a 15 oz can)
1/3 cup vegetable/canola oil
2 eggs

topping
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cardamom

Preheat oven to 350°F. Put liners in muffin cups or spray pan with cooking oil spray.

Whisk together pumpkin, eggs, oil, baking powder, white and brown sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl until smooth. Incorporate in flour mixture until just combined.
before, and after

Stir together cinnamon, cardamom, and tablespoon brown sugar in a separate small bowl for the topping.

Divide batter among muffin cups (spoon it in, about 2/3 to 3/4 full), then sprinkle tops with cardamom-sugar mix. Bake until golden brown (26-28 minutes) and toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean, not sticky. The muffins should have domed tops.

Allow them to cool in the pan for at least five minutes, then transfer onto a platter to cool them down to room temperature — or in my case to take them on the road to Durham!

I got my inspiration for this recipe from a successful muffin recipe from The Kitchn.

I’ll leave you all with some pictures of the potluck/social. The group is FIST – Fight Imperialism Stand Together. We are a revolutionary youth group, we fight against all systems of oppression, and are socialist by nature. We’re based in Raleigh and Durham and Chapel Hill, but it is actually also a national group. Find out more at their website. The conversation topics ranged from the opening of a new grilled cheese food truck to the inability for some of us to travel, not just out of an economic disadvantage, but also via racial inequalities (i.e. who is given a US passport, how many from which countries, etc). These are some of my favorite people, and they along with other friends’ I will introduce you to soon make up the people’s table.

Here’s Dante asking us who our favorite revolutionary woman is, in honor of International Women’s Day on March 8, while we chat and chow down. Since I’m reading Communion by bell hooks right now, I chose her. I have also named my beta fish bell swims after bell hooks.

I caught Monse, Elisa, and Andy mid-pontifications, with the soundtrack provided by Alex & Jaiden!

Viva la Revolucion!