Chicken Adobo

I have a confession to make. I am a terrible cook. A real culinary artist can enter a kitchen and whip up something fantastic out of whatever ingredients are available. I am no such chef. My cooking ability is almost entirely dependent on recipes. As I practice and expand my repertoire I'm beginning to feel a bit more comfortable experimenting on my own but am by no means good at it. That's why when people compliment me on my cooking skills, I correct them by explaining that I'm really just good at the whole following directions bit.

I know that makes me seem like somewhat of an impostor, but I mean no such deceit. Following recipes is one of the reasons I love cooking, one of the reasons I find it so relaxing. I get plenty gratification out of merely replicating some fancy-schmancy meal. One day I aspire to create recipes of my own but for now I'm perfectly happy playing copy-cat in the kitchen. Sue me.



I found this recipe for chicken adobo flipping through a Sunset magazine. Traditional to the Philippines, foreign to me. Chicken adobo seemed like the perfect dish to make on an overcast and uninspired evening. Simple and with few ingredients (all of which we had on hand - being the obsessive compulsive freak that I am I'm not one for substitutions or omissions when it comes to food) but full flavored and a little exotic. All it is really is garlic, soy sauce, apple cider vinegar, bay leaves, and black peppercorns (which I happen to love cooked like this - they're not too spicy but add a distinctive warmth). I'm not sure I'd make it again but it was easy and definitely tasty.

Fancy Dinners

My family has never been one for fancy dinners. There's a very short list of family meals that we adhere to, all of which are simple but delicious. I suppose it makes sense for a family of five, everyone has so many likes and dislikes that when you find a meal that's acceptable to all, it's repeated many times.

Moving away to college I found opportunities to flex my cooking muscles and expand my palate. After all, when I cook, I cook for me, so I can make pretty much whatever I want within reason. I made this risotto recipe in Berkeley and absolutely loved it, so I thought I'd share it with my family. Risotto is somewhat of a blank canvass. Traditionally, all risottos start with ariboro rice and are cooked with white wine and chicken stock then mixed with parmesean cheese, but there's a lot of room for creativity. This recipe features spring vegetables, fennel, leeks, peas, and asparagus, and is mixed with mascarpone cheese, lemon, and basil (which I used instead if the chives that are included in the original recipe).

It took a couple days of prep work to get my family to buy it, describing exactly what risotto was, explaining that traditionally it is served as a main course, not a side dish, and assuring them that although there was no meat, it was very filling. Eventually I got everyone onboard and Sunday night we gave it a go. Overall I think everyone really liked it.

For dessert that evening we thought we'd try out the our new gas grill with grilled peaches. I topped them with a balsamic glaze and fresh mint. To be honest, they weren't as fantastic as I'd hoped, but they sure look pretty.



The glaze is really easy. I'd been wanting to make a balsamic reduction with fresh fruit for a long time but never had the opportunity. Pour 1 cup of balsamic vinegar into a small saucepan and cook over medium high until reduced by about half (maybe more, you're just looking for a thick, syrupy consistency). Stir in 2 tablespoons of sugar until dissolved and viola. It tastes really vinegary on its own, but pairs really nicely with fruit.

Cranberry Almond Biscotti

I love biscotti. It's simple, elegant, and sounds really fancy. Biscotti baking was my first real hands on introduction into the culinary world, and seeing as my family has almost always had a batch around the house since, you could say I was hooked.

This is by far my favorite biscotti recipe. It's classic. I think my mom originally got the recipe as part of a Christmas gift. You know, from the crazy lady next door who bakes kitschy holiday cookies to give to all the neighbors and attaches the recipe as though you'll be dying for another bite as soon as the plate's finished (too bad that's probably going to be me one day). And, really, holiday cookies are more often than not pretty gross (except these which are delicious, duh).

I've made these cookies every which way since then, experimenting with all different flours, fruits, and nuts, but I find this is the winning combination. It's delicious with coffee, tea, or a cup of warm milk.

Also, appreciate the extraordinary lighting in my parent's kitchen. My camera practically had a seizure.

Cranberry Almond Biscotti

1/4 cup olive oil (I know it's weird. It goes against every baking instinct I have in me. But trust me, it works)
3/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons of vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
2 eggs
1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup dried cranberries (I like lots of fruit in these. You might try a little less if you're not Craisin crazy)
1 1/2 cup almonds, chopped

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (USE PARCHMENT PAPER. Go buy some if you have to. Don't pretend that you can just grease the pan and it'll be fine. Parchment paper makes a big difference).


In a large bowl, mix together oil and sugar until all of the oil is well absorbed. Add the extracts and mix well. Beat in the eggs. Add the flours, a little bit at a time, mixing well between each addition. Add salt and baking soda and stir until well combined. Fold in cranberries and almonds.


Divide dough in half (you may have to wet your hands with cold water slightly, as the dough will be sticky). Form 2 logs, roughly 12x2, on the cookie sheet (lined with parchment paper, or else). Bake for 40 minutes.


Remove from the oven and set aside to cool for 15 minutes (or until completely cooled). Drop the oven temperature down to 275 degrees. Slice the logs, on a diagonal, into 3/4 inch thick cookies. Lay flat on the baking sheet. Return to the oven for 20 minutes. Remove from oven, let cool, and enjoy!

Comfort from the storm

I am a creature of habit. I begin each morning in exactly the same way (black coffee and Honey Nut Cheerios with fresh sliced strawberries thankyouverymuch), rent the same movies from the video store, and, as ashamed as I am to say this, generally order the same things at restaurants. That's not to say that I don't like taking risks or having adventures. It's just that when I do, I'm usually somewhat forcing myself to, as though I know whatever experiences I may have by erring from normalcy will build character and make me a better person. I love familiarity and I can't help but find myself at ease in routine. Daily rituals can actually be quite meaningful to our lives, and for me, profoundly calming and even therapeutic in times of stress (ie finals).

This is undoubtedly one of the reasons that I love cooking. Don't get me wrong, I love trying new recipes and experimenting with different ingredients. But something about returning to old recipes with all of their familiar sights, smells, textures, and movements is so comforting to me. When the chaos of a place live Berkeley starts to get overwhelming, cooking something that I've made a hundred times before puts me at ease.

Sausage and corn chowder is one such recipe. I have made it so many times but have yet to grow tired of it. It is the perfect way to celebrate simple flavors and good ingredients. Enjoy!

Sausage and Corn Chowder

2 links of uncooked sweet Italian sausage, casings removed
2 ears of yellow corn
1 medium onion, white or red
2 cloves of garlic
1 bunch of scallions
4 tablespoons of flour
4 cups of milk
A few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
A pinch of cayanne pepper
Salt to taste

In a large pot of dutch oven, cook sausage. For the first few minutes, start at high heat to sear the meat, then knock it back to medium until cooked through, about 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, remove sausage (leaving the rendered fat) from pot and set aside.

Run your knife along the corn cobs to remove the kernels. Add 2-3 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil into the pot. Add chopped onion and cook until golden brown (about 5 minutes). Add minced garlic and cook until fragrant (about a minute). Stir in corn and salt and cook for about 7-10 more minutes, scrapping up any brown bits from the bottom of the pot (you're just developing flavors at this point).

Add 4 tablespoons of flour and stir. Cook for a few minutes, just to get out any floury taste. Add milk and stir. Cook until mixture thickens and the chowder is just shy of boiling. Stir in the scallions and cayanne pepper. Season with salt as needed.

The Roots of America in a Sandwich

I love Salinas. Lying in a basin of richness and fertility, Salinas is John Steinbeck's promised land, flowing with milk and honey. Driving into Salinas, or uncomfortably sitting on an itchy Greyhound seat with some smelly transient snoring beside you as the case may be, you can't help but imagine the Jode family rounding the bend to see a lush, green valley spread out before them (insert a few sentimental tears). Salinas is a small bit of America's heartland right here in California, a paradoxical symbol of prosperity and oppression.

My affinity for Salinas probably has much to do with my obsession with the roots of American culture. Gospel, American history, whiskey, and country music (the folky, melancholy, Ryan Adams sort, not the "I love tractors and beat my wife" sort) all implicitly carry with them Americas roots and in a certain way glorify genuine American values. As these mediums change and evolve, the cultural values embedded within them remain present to varying extents. I love exploring these origins through both appreciative and critical lenses. Regardless of what you think of America (trust me, as a Development Studies major, I subscribe to a very critical perception of the United States international relationships. Gah) we are all products of centuries of American culture and normative values. The way we understand the world and our place in it is historically and geographically situated. And if we cannot rid ourselves of these perspectives (though I would argue, we wouldn't want to. Conceptions of common sense are terribly interesting and maintain some degree of diversity in the world) we should at least understand them. In short, I find discovering the roots of American culture to be intriguing.

Southern cooking is by far the greatest way to explore American culture. Give me good, down-home cooking any day. I mean, who says you can't unveil American values in shredded cabbage slathered in mayonnaise? I'm not a proponent of the Paula Deen style of southern cooking in which deep fried cream cheese wrapped in bacon and dipped in sour cream seems like a great idea, but southern food (which does in fact entail a higher proportion of fat than normal food types. Don't freak out) can be absolutely fantastic. Angeline's Louisiana Kitchen is a perfect example, but that's another post (I'll just say this, try the hushpuppies).

Barbeque is by far my favorite form of southern eats. Full disclosure, you have to enjoy meat to understand the glory or barbeque. There's this amazing place on Cannery Row in Monterey called Willy's Smokehouse that Trevor took me too when I arrived in hi neck of the woods this evening. Their pulled pork sandwich with apple jalapeno coleslaw is to die for. Tender, juicy, and topped with any of three varieties of house-made barbeque sauce, this sandwich is one of the best I've tried (I am partial to pulled pork preparation in which the meat is marinated in the barbeque sauce, but this sandwich really is good enough that I'm willing to put aside my differences and devour it). It is delicious and wonderful and everything you hope a pulled pork sandwich would be. It makes you feel like you have achieved some form of intimate connection with the roots of American culture in one bite. Transforming your understandings of the world through food - culinary art at it's best.

Blueberry Almond Cookies

When I saw these on TV last week, I thought nothing of them. That's not to say that didn't look good, I just wasn't particularly impressed. But everyone knows baking is by far the best procrastination technique, and who really needs to study for finals anyways? I had all of the ingredients, so I thought I'd give it a go.



Delicious! Not too sweet, great almond flavor, and the blueberries turned out to be an excellent addition (I was a little hesitant at first). I omitted the lemon zest from the dough, but I added a glaze to them after they'd baked and cooled, some with lemon and some with white chocolate. Both were really simple.



White chocolate glaze
Melt a handful of white chocolate chips in the microwave, stirring every 30 seconds. Add a few teaspoons of milk to thin out the chocolate, and then a few tablespoons of powdered sugar until the glaze reaches consistency (dripping slowly from the spoon).

Lemon glaze
Start with the juice of half a lemon and the zest of a whole. Slowly add in powdered sugar and stir until the glaze reaches proper consistency.

Both glazes were delicious. I think I'm partial to the lemon for it's brightness of flavor, but the white chocolate was great too.

Mustard roasted fish with parmesan broccoli

Delicious is an understatement. Mustard roasted red snapper is one of the best fish recipes I've tried. I mixed creme fraiche with dijon and grainy mustard, added minced shallots (they have a delicate, elegant flavor that automatically make everything ten times more amazing), and capers (fantastic salty, vinegary bites of goodness) and poured it over a red snapper filet. The fish was incredibly moist but still flaky, and the sauce thinned out and the flavors intensified. It was rich, creamy, and had a surprising depth of flavor.


Not to undermine the fish, but this broccoli recipe was amazing. I love broccoli and have made it a million different ways. But really, this is absolutely incredible and while I can't guarantee it, this broccoli may in fact change your life. And it's shockingly simple (also a plus). Roast broccoli in the oven with minced garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Sprinkle with lemon juice and fresh, julienned basil leaves and voila. The recipe calls for toasted pine nuts (which I'm sure would have only made it more fantastic) but I didn't have any on hand. Really, get up off the couch of your computer chair or wherever you might be sitting right now and make this broccoli. It is to die for.

Tabbouleh and Gospel Music

I made the most fantastic tabbouleh for lunch today. Tabbouleh is a Middle Eastern salad, made with bulgar wheat, cucumbers, tomatoes, and herbs. It's light and fresh, perfect for warm spring afternoons and hot summer days. This recipe from Food Network's Ina Garten looked particularly delicious.

I cooked the bulgar wheat in water, lemon, and olive oil. I didn't use quite all the lemon she did, since although I'm fond of lemon, I didn't want to overwhelm the flavors of the salad. After the grains were cooked, I tossed in chopped scallions, cucumber (I use English cumbers since they're less watery, have edible skins, and taste delicious), grape tomatoes (also an excellent choice for this salad - better flavor and less water), fresh mint, and fresh parsley.

To serve, I scooped the tabbouleh into pita pockets and layered it with French sheep's milk feta cheese. If you haven't tried French sheep's milk feta cheese, you may find that you have wasted a great deal of your life (I certainly did when I tried it for the first time this afternoon). It's creamy and luxurious, but still has the distinctive crumbly texture and mild flavor of your standard cow's milk feta. It really is wonderful. My tabbouleh sandwiches were a huge success and, since the flavors only develop the longer it sits, I'll have even more delicious leftovers all weekend.

In other news, today was the last gospel choir rehearsal of the year. Gospel chorus has been such a positive and profoundly meaningful experience for me. I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to participate in such an extraordinary group I look forward to many more semesters as an active member. It is experiences like these that have filled my time at Cal with richness. I don't know if I'll remember all of the essays I've written or the grades I've received but I'm sure to cherish my time with gospel choir as one of the fondest memories of my college career. Check us out on youtube to see what I mean!