Muffin Top

My aunt is from the South. Yeah, capital “S” south, that South, not quite Bible-belt country but close enough. Since I’ve known her as Auntie Dianna from the time I was seven, it doesn’t seem weird to me that she’s this blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman originally from Corpus Christi. The story of how my Philippine-born uncle and her fell in love is probably too long and not food related enough for this blog; however, I will quote their son/my cousin by saying: The South and the Philippines have way more in common than you’d think.

Namely, if y’all must know, they both likes their food fried. So bring it on because the oil is hot and ready!

That said, it’s been long that my Auntie D has praised the wonders of cast iron. Tonight, at a writers’ group meeting, I fried up a batch of lumpia (that post coming soon, I swear!) in a friend’s cast iron skillet, and My Lawd, I do declare, but I’ve never seen these fry up so perfectly golden, nevah evah!

How long have I been frying food and never done so in cast iron? It’s almost shameful, when I think of it: flashes of fried chicken sizzling in their floury skins suddenly bring it all back. Whose fried chicken? I don’t know. I keep thinking of that scene in Ray when Jamie Foxx is cooking a batch of it in the dark. Auntie Dianna knew, my friend Rose knew, Ray Charles knew!

Geez, if a blind man can trust frying to cast iron, surely I can, too.

Then, Rose and hostess of the meeting, being a seasoned cook as well as foodie, said she had two skillets the same size. My delight at the fabulously fried lumpia so apparent, she said, “Go ahead and take one of those pans home with you.” This one? Home? It’s fantastic! It’s perfect! It weighs 20 lbs!

And so here it is: my new frying pan. I can see why angry wives threw these, bet this 10-inch pan sure could pack a wallop. Maybe I’ll even keep it by the back door next to the baseball bat (our “security system”); in the meantime, baby, I’m ready to fry (or bake). A batch of chicken or lumpia or cornbread wants this skillet. This skillet dreams of them.

In the dog days of summer, it’s hard to spend a lot of time over a kitchen stove or oven. That is a lot of heat trapped within the four walls of your house, and a sweaty cook is not so sexy. Unless you’re cooking in a swimsuit, maybe, and even then you’d probably look better sans sweat in the swimsuit.

Pause, as I imagine legions of handsome cooks out there cooking in their swimsuits, bodies dangerously exposed to steam and errant sprays of hot oil. Mrmm. Hot. Oil. Steam. Steamy.

Oh–where was I? Oh yes, I was talking about how it can get really too hot to cook indoors during the height of summer (even here in Berkeley, where we are facing an alarming and unusual summer heatwave). In summer time, why lock yourself indoors anyhow? If you’ve got a barbecue, then it’s time to take the cooking outdoors (and dining outside, al fresco, is a wonderful thing on summer evenings).

It’s refreshing to make a meal in the outdoors (I even like to cook while backpacking, while watching the sun set and the stars pop out), and somehow the experience becomes more communal while everyone’s gathered around a barbecue. The grill just seems less intimidating to people, harkening to our primitive caveman days.

My favorite barbecue is NOT Texas barbecue (though I do respect it a lot, and love to eat the wonderful stuff), but Korean barbecue. I’ll even marinate a regular “American steak” in Korean marinade before barbecue’ing it. I grew up on marinated beef, and I’ve never fallen in love with “dry rub” on a steak. It tastes…too dry. For me, anyway.

So I share with you my recipe for Korean barbecue marinade. The requests for my Korean BBQ marinade recipe increases during barbecue season, so I thought I’d just post it up here for all of you. I use it to marinate bulgogi (wafer thin slices of beef), galbi (short ribs…for barbecue: cut the long, thin way), chicken, and “western steak” (rib eye, porterhouse, you name it). I’ll stick the meat and marinade in a ziploc bag and marinate it at least 2-3 hours, and optimally overnight before heading outdoors to the shaded terrace and the beckoning grill.

Korean marinade (makes about 1 cup)
Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup soy sauce
• 1/2 cup dessert wine (sauternes, late harvest zin, auslese, muscat, whatever’s sweet…or vermouth works too…if you don’t have those things, use regular white or red wine and up the sugar)
• 1/4 cup sugar (the marinade should be sweet but not TOO sweet–add more if you put in regular wine instead of dessert wine)
• 2 teaspoons sesame oil
• 3 cloves of garlic chopped fine
• ground black pepper to taste
• a handful of scallions, chopped (optional)
• a handful of minced asian pear, or pear (optional)

Directions:
Easiest directions ever! Mix all the above ingredients together until well blended.

For everyone who is wondering how the bookclub is coming (and its far enough down the list that its gonna drop off soon), here is a link to who is doing what, which recipes have yet to be spoken for - and best of all, the shortlist for September’s selection!

Hello other Muffin Toppers! I wanted to write today about the experience of having foodie friends. Last night I was perusing my bookshelves, looking for something else, when Laurie Colwin’s two books, Home Cooking and More Home Cooking caught my eye. I carried them upstairs to bed with me and read a bit from both of them, feeling both grateful and melancholy. Grateful because I love Laurie Colwin’s writing, and the sense that I have of her as a person. I love her sense of warmth, her humor, her generous spirit. And melancholy, because she died way too early, at the age of 48. When I heard of her death in 1992 I couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with her penchant for butter balls:

… my mother would make butter balls. She took very cold pats of butter and rolled them between two flat, ridged wooden paddles that had beeen chilled in the freezer beforehand… working them until they became little balls, with crosshatched surfaces. Then, she made a hole in each ball, sprinkled in a pinch of sugar and a drop of lemon juice, and put the balls in the fridge. Later, my sister and I were allowed to eat the butter balls as a treat, and, believe me, they were wonderful.

I believe her. Here was someone who took such pleasure in not only food, but words, and the company of human people. I longed to somehow, someday be her friend, to hang out with her in her kitchen while she whipped up some spicy gingerbread or her mother’s beef stew with buttered noodles. (more butter, mmmmmm) Apparently I’m not the only one who feels that way.

Some of my dearest friends look upon food as a necessary evil. Some of them see it as a drug (they have a point) For some, food is strictly utilitarian. And others are intimidated by things like cookbooks. Some of them would no more likely watch a food show on TV than I would watch a round of golf. (ie, one in ten million)

Speaking of food TV, I would like to bring up Rachel Ray. So many people just loathe and despise her. She’s totally over the top cutie pie, but for some reason, I don’t find her despicable. When I was at Blue Mountain last year, I found this issue of Adirondack magazine that showed the house where she lives in upstate NY with her mom (which she bought for her mom), and it was the most appealing, beautifully rustic place. I think she would be fun to tool around with, traveling and finding unique and fun places to eat at, although I would give much bigger tips than she does. I almost hacked my way through my TV screen when she was on some trip to Maine, eating lobster rolls out on some pier. I wanted to be there so badly! I like people who are enthusiastic about food, rather than suspicious of it or indifferent.

It’s been such a treat to discover that there are foodies among my friends recently. And I can curl up with Laurie Colwin’s delicious words and experience her cooking and her company on a different level.