Black History Month: A Writing Exercise

 

    There's a prompt wandering round the internet this month. Something along the lines of “When did you have your first black teacher?”. Having never really looked at teachers as having race, gender, or opinion -the job of a teacher, to me, is about removing bias to improve perspective and understanding- I never actively considered the individuals, only the lessons. I had to stop, take my time, and think about it.

I couldn't remember. Not at first. But I thought a bit more. In academics, there were almost none. Not till university. But before that...

    Reading Rainbow? The notion was there. He counts, in my estimation. But you don't have to take my word for it. 

    A gymnastics instructor whose face and voice I still remember, who taught with smiles, laughter, and supported me when I didn't think I was good enough.

    A karate teacher, the one Master Morey often left in charge of senior students. I can't even remember his face, only his presence- like a piece of chiseled granite in a gi. He made me retake my first black belt test because my front snap kicks weren't up to snuff. They've been better ever since. Hell, the importance of training and development may well have saved my life a few times.

    But for formal schooling? Only a single high school math teacher- in a class full of upperclassmen where I kept my head down. Rural New Jersey didn't exactly attract black teachers. Mom grew up and taught in Newark though, where she was often the minority. Presumably that left its own mark, showing how important it was to build a broader worldview and a more inclusive perspective. So maybe those out-of-school instructors weren't flukes. Maybe my mom was an even better teacher than I gave her credit for.

    In the school system I grew up in, a driving force was music. Our orchestra was known for sweeping competitions up and down the eastern seaboard, bolstered by many Asian and Indian-American students wanting to fight stereotypes while still pursuing excellence. Our class pictures were a good bit darker and more diverse than most might have guessed for a small farmers' town in New Jersey. but near to no black faces to be found.

    I can only think of one family in my entire hometown, and perhaps a dozen students in all in my high school years. “Black” students in my community were unofficially rare and exotic, a countercultural source of conflict, sometimes unable or simply unwilling to conform to the standards I knew so well. One young lady, though I'll not share her name, wrote 'MLK' on her locker in Sharpie on the appropriate day. Might as well have been a scarlet A, really.

    But hell, we tried. We watched Glory and Amistad in our sophomore year history class- “American Studies”, facing colonialist horror and white supremacy as boldly as the school might have dared. Later, we watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and Inherit the Wind.

    We read a lot of heavy stuff. Makes Me Wanna Holler, Angela's Ashes, To Kill a Mockingbird, Black Like Me, Maus, The House on Mango Street... we learned a lot about prejudice, racism, oppression. We learned how to spot them, prove them, and fight them.

    I remember the lessons. I also remember how few other students seemed to really care.

    Much later on, university. My very first instructor was, by happenstance, black. A man of expertise, stature, and cordial largesse. He was the one for which the first message I sent him was, essentially,  “My apartment burned down yesterday. I'm sleeping in my car, and have access to nothing. My uniform might not be perfect during our labs when we start them tomorrow.”. What did he do?

    He asked me to come in a little early. We spoke candidly.

    Before class started, he dimmed the lights, so that during uniform inspection and the following lab no one else would notice my somewhat rumpled state. Two days later, he snuck shoe polish into my raincoat the day after I showed up soaked to the skin. I'd had to walk three miles to class in a miserable Rhode Island downpour and having nearly been run over by a passing car, my uniform shoes were a scraped up mess. He's a fine teacher and a fine man, among the few I remember fondly from those terrible days.

Would that there were more.

    This was a most intriguing prompt to consider. It brought back a number of all but forgotten memories, and inspired a new look at old happenings, from which I now draw new insights.

Personal Musings on Pets

    For those that regularly keep an eye on my stream, you know I love dogs. I never had one growing up, but ever since I moved to California, there's been one in the house, and in my social circles I'm usually the one tapped to dog-sit if the owners have urgent business and need to go out of town. Being someone the dogs already know and trust is worth a lot when it comes to peace of mind, after all. 

    All dogs are good dogs until otherwise proven- I stand by that even after having a chunk bitten out of my leg by one a couple of years ago. There's a fine beastie in the house I live right now, and I've... more or less been the one to take care of him over the time I've been here. 

His name's Tiger. On the left with the dangly tongue. Big goofus. <3

    When his owner was indisposed, I made sure Tiger was fed, watered, and exercised. When it was cold, wet, and rainy, I'd be outside with him so he wasn't so grumpy about it, and I always made sure he got nicely dried off once we got back inside. He's got allergies too, the poor guy, so I've often been the one ready with the benadryl or the cone to make sure he didn't gnaw a hole in himself itching. (Related- the inflatable doughnuts you see in the drugstore for hemorrhoids? Often better than a cone for most small to medium sized clutzy dogs.) 

    Tiger's an older dog now too, and while he still has pep in his step, at ten-odd years old, he needs to go out to pee a little more often, and takes a little longer to get up off the ground and get a move on. That's okay though. He knows he has to be a little careful, and he is... or at least as careful as a German Shepherd can be. 

    But now I'm moving. It's a smaller place, with just me and my beau. We have no pets of our own, and couldn't fit one anyway.

    While I've had other pets in times past, I lived most of my life without having a dog around. But I've since raised two from puppies, and cared for two more as they eased into their old age. I'm not sure how I'll feel without a cold nose at my elbow at 3am because nobody let him out to pee before locking up for the night. Or how I'll manage without a portable fuzzy space heater, secondary Very Loud doorbell, and constant source of goofy smiles.

    For all sorts of reasons, I worry about what's going to happen to Tiger once I'm gone. But there's naught else I can do, except give him lots of love in the time we can still share.

Recipe Dev: Chocolate Chip Cookies

Unless you don't like chocolate, you probably like chocolate chip cookies.

This is a recipe I've been fiddling with on and off that I rather like. It's not too sweet, and has plenty of depth and complexity without being complicated. While it does call for a mixer, it's not strictly necessary, just takes a bit longer to do by hand.

Equipment:

Mixer with Paddle Attachment
Scale
Small Saute Pan
Rubber/Silicone Spatula
#50 Portion Scoop (~2Tbsp)
Medium Bowl
Measuring Spoons
Sheet Tray
Parchment Paper
Oven

Ingredients:

300g All-Purpose Flour
1/2 tsp Baking Soda
1/2 tsp Salt

3/4c / 170g Unsalted Butter, melted and browned (170g being the pre-browned weight)
1c / 190g Brown Sugar (light or dark)
1/2c / 100g Granulated Sugar
2 tsp Masala Chai spice
    (Mix ground Coriander, Cardamom, Nutmeg, Black Pepper, Clove)

1 Tbsp Vanilla Extract (or 2 tsp vanilla / 1 tsp almond)
1 Large Whole Egg
1 Egg Yolk
2c / ~12oz Semisweet Chocolate Chips
    (Ideal- Guittard 68% cookie drops)

Process:

Preheat the oven to 325°F (~165°C). Line two sheet trays with parchment paper.

In the small saute pan, melt and gently brown the butter. Allow to cool to room temperature.
Combine the weighed flour, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl; set aside.
In the mixer w/paddle attachment, cream together the melted butter, brown sugar and white sugar until well blended, 3-4 minutes on medium-high speeds.

Beat in the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla until the mixture is light and creamy, 1-2 minutes.

Mix in the dry ingredients on low until just combined, ~1 minute.

Remove the mixing bowl from the mixer, then stir in the chocolate chips by hand using a spoon or rubber spatula. If necessary, chill the dough in the freezer or refrigerator for ~15 minutes here to firm it up.

Place cookie dough onto the prepared sheet tray(s) using a #50 scoop (about 2 Tbsp). The single batch should yield approximately 36 cookies

Use one tray to hold all the cookies, and place them in the refrigerator to chill. Once thoroughly chilled, the portioned cookies can be baked and/or bagged and frozen.

A standard half-sheet tray will comfortably bake 8 cookies at a time in a 3-row, 3/2/3 configuration. Bake in the preheated oven for 13-14 minutes (rotating the tray halfway through), or until the edges are lightly toasted. From frozen, add 2-3 min.

Cool on baking sheets for a few minutes before removing. The carry-over from the still-hot tray is an important final step for ensuring the center is fully cooked.

Awoo Cuisine!

One From the Vaults: "Food on Film: Our Just Desserts" Part 2.

    It's been a decade and more since I published that piece, and there are plenty of things that could be trimmed. Originally the concept was drafted as an example for a Food Writing class, to be published at a later date, and it shows. My tendency towards word bloat for deliberate student editing practice is painfully obvious, as is feels like an overuse of alliteration. While not forced, it's clear I built some section-defining sentences around it. But that's less important for this than the concepts behind the piece itself.

    It briefly but clearly goes through the rise of food and fitness expertise on television from the 1950s through the early to mid 2000s, accompanied by analysis of the likely intended goals of said media representation. It moves from applauding the practical and pragmatic methods of the earlier incarnations to decrying the more theatrical, advertising driven modern approach. 

    Overall that notion holds up fairly well to scrutiny, though it does come across as somewhat bitter. As someone who actively resents the notion of appearance influencing perspective likely even more now than I once did, that should come as no surprise.

    What's happened in the intervening years has been very interesting- similar to a condensed version of the original piece's time scale. The rapid rise of Instagram and other forms of monetized high-exposure social media interaction have led to a drastic reduction in longform education for both food and fitness (also just in general, but that's for another post). 

    This results in large quantities of unrelated or junk information, which requires additional verification... that doesn't usually happen. Formerly reliable sources of information have been paywalled, monetized, pulled offline, or otherwise hamstrung, and the remainder aren't always up to snuff. Likewise, the tendency toward short form, rapid 'content generation' has resulted in other sociocultural and educational flaws.

    In the time spent making sure a recipe, technique, or informative tip is viable (sometimes one must even ensure something is simply safe), a person could often have learned the necessary processes from scratch- so the shorter formats don't reliably reduce time spent learning or improve ease of understanding. "All surface, no substance" has seemingly become the order of the day- a logical if rapid progression. 

    The speed with which nearly effortless worldwide interaction and information gathering has become standard for much of the world has largely left the individual desire for research at nadir.

    Given the comparable ease with which disinformation can be spread, the need for cultivating such a desire may never yet have been greater.

    So the question remains- what is to be done? What can be done, even? Had I the authority I qualify for, It would be relatively simple. But when media conglomerates and technopolies command more attention and influence than supposed world leaders, the notions of aggressive reformation and societal change seem as naught but a pipe dream. Underneath it all, the notion is simple: those with resources and influence most reliably prioritize objectively wrong things, and do not care about improving themselves enough even to recognize that, much less work to make amends.

One From The Vaults: "Food On Film: Our Just Desserts" Part 1.

This will be a 2-parter.
First, here, is a piece I published in 2011.
Part 2 will be an analysis of subject matter progression since publication.
Some small editing has been done for formatting purposes.

Food On Film: Our Just Desserts?

Every new generation is mentored by the ones that came before, bearing echoes of their preferences and tendencies. However as time passes, those core facets shift and reform into a new identity to better fit the psyche of the next generation. Vagaries aside, such things are exemplified by the changing state of food in the public eye. The evolution of food, cooking, and restaurant life as detailed through the media (television in particular) through the past fifty years, has shown a constant fluid shift in preferences and popular trends, while maintaining the appeal of classics through various methods of rebranding. With constant improvements in media technology, the sensationalist aspect of food becomes vastly easier to express and explain to a studio and at-home audience.

Side by side with the evolution of food in the public eye, another popularized television movement was fitness, and the combination of those two concepts on a growing television audience had nothing but positive potential. Better food, better eating habits, and better physical fitness were all starting to make themselves known to nationwide audiences here in the United States. Now, some fifty years later, the cynics are laughing.

Food-related programming grew more and more popular as the utility of it grew. The first real trendsetter in food television here in the United States was Julia Child with her program The French Chef. Displaying classic dishes and basic sundry-centric staples fit for families across the country, her pep and personality carried the day even when her skills dropped out of the camera's eye. Occasional fumbling endeared her that much more to her audience of hesitant housewives, who took heart from her boldness and bravado to try and recreate her celluloid successes for their families and friends.

On the fitness side was someone who had the same vim and vigor, but vastly different motivation and methodology. Jack Lalanne, in his self-titled Jack Lalanne Show, displayed the very same urge towards satisfaction. He prompted his audience to get up, get moving, and get fit, working through each and every part of the body to better not just themselves, but to inspire everyone around them to do the same.

Both food and fitness grew in popularity through the decades, with new faces rising to prominence in each field. Through the late 1960s to early 1970s, The Galloping Gourmet ruled the airwaves, its host Graham Kerr ultimately collaborating with Julia Child to great effect. The 1970s gave way to Jeff Smith and The Frugal Gourmet on the culinary front, and while Jack Lalanne continued his hard work with fitness, the rise to prominence of a man called Richard Simmons was also well on the way. 

The first major foray into widespread 'nutritional science', pioneered by the infamous Dr. Robert Atkins, showed its face in 1972. Atkins introduced his “Diet Revolution”, a high-protein, high-fat, low-carbohydrate diet and a bevy of evidence about the benefits. Shortly afterward in 1974, Richard Simmons’ program Ruffage and the popularity of his Anatomy Asylum gym debuted to promote the combination of exercise and healthy eating.

Fast-forward another fifteen years or so, a new fire sparked viewers with the 1993 debut of Food Network Television- an entire station devoted to nothing but food and its myriad facets. Every kitchen professional mentioned so far appeared again, to once more dazzle audiences old and new. They weren't alone- a great many fresh, new faces arrived sporting sharp knives and sharper skills to tantalize the wide-eyed watchers.

    And yet despite all of these advances and approvals in the industries, intended audiences seemed to snub the messages the performers sought to inspire.  As obesity runs rampant, juvenile diabetes rates have skyrocketed, and advertisements for fast food rule the airwaves as the selfsame garbage fills the supermarket freezer case. How could two subjects that spent so many years developing their value in the public eye have fallen so easily to the wayside in favor of corporate marketing and painfully transparent advertising campaigns? Does the couch-bound, captive audience have a particular disdain for hard work? Is making something look bad on television that much easier than making it look good? Or is it really only money they want, regardless of the cost to the public?

    Whose cuisine reigns supreme? Whoever paid the most for ads, it seems. Now go kick back and eat those instant noodles. 

 Bon appétit.

Recipe Dev: 'Chicken Tikka Masala'

 

Food from the Indian Subcontinent has wandered all over the world with speed and efficiency since the days of the Raj. While it has fallen into some of the stereotypes and traps of, say, takeout Chinese, it manages to keep a fairly strong semblance of its identity while being simplified or streamlined for the more casual diner.

The subtleties are, to some degree, lost in translation. The most comprehensive Indian cookbook I've ever read sometimes feels like it has more ingredients than recipes- and it's got about a thousand recipes! But despite the tendency to tone down the complexities, some underlying principles remain. 

One being that it's a regional cuisine more suited towards those of a vegetarian or sometimes vegan bent, and so a bit more malleable accommodating those somewhat common dietary restrictions. 

Another being that the quantity of vegetable matter involved is often quite robust without being obvious, so for those times when one must sneak nutrition into a troublesome child or picky eater's meal, this region excels better than most.

Lastly, there's one I consider extremely important for both restaurant and home kitchens. In defiance of some relevant cultural norms, Indian food tends to be both very friendly to large-batch cooking and very well suited for leftovers.

I could go into much more detail, but this post is for the recipe. It's not complicated- the hardest things to find might be the curry leaves, and you can leave those out if need be. The spices might seem numerous, but all of them can be found at a conventional Western supermarket, along with all the other ingredients. Some measurements are a little vague, to be adjusted to personal taste and compensate for product variability. 

I've shared this one on an individual basis before, and that helped another chef of my acquaintance land a job that boosted his career prospects big-time. Now all of you get to try it! It serves 4 as an entree.

Ingredients-

8 Boneless / Skinless chicken thighs (about 1kg, a bit over 2lbs)
Salt & Pepper
-----
½ cup oil or ghee (if oil, you'll need ¼ cup each oil and unsalted butter)
2 large onions, diced fine
4 cloves garlic, minced
Ginger, the size of 4 fingers, peeled and minced
1 serrano chile, halved vertically
1 28oz can crushed tomatoes
3/4 cup heavy cream
1 small stick cinnamon
2 stalks curry leaves
Juice of half a lemon or lime

Spice blend- All spices here are finely ground unless otherwise specified.

2 tsp Garam Masala
2 tsp Madras Curry Powder
1 tsp coriander
½ tsp green cardamom
½ tsp cumin
½ tsp black pepper
½ tsp turmeric
¼ tsp clove
¼ tsp crushed red pepper

Equipment- Wide pot or tall-sided skillet, wide enough to fit all the chicken in a single layer.

Method-

Season the chicken with salt and pepper.

In a flat-bottomed pot or flat-sided skillet with a lid, heat half the ghee (or the oil), and brown the chicken aggressively, then remove. Any other fat is to be used at your discretion.

If the pan has browned (but not burnt) bits on the bottom once the chicken is browned, add the onions to the pan and cook on medium-high with a 3-finger pinch of salt, scraping to make sure all the fond comes off the pan without burning. Adding ¼ cup of water to steam everything off the pan may help as well.

After 2-3 minutes reduce to medium-low, and cook for 8-10 more, until the onions are soft and beginning to color.

While the onions are cooking, cut each chicken thigh into 3-4 pieces, depending on size.

Once the onions are jammy, turn the heat to high and add the garlic, ginger, chiles, and cinnamon stick.

Cook for 2-3 minutes longer, stirring constantly, adding more fat if needed. Adjust seasoning.

Once the chiles have bloomed and blistered a little, reduce the heat to very low.

Add the spice blend and stir rapidly for 5-10 seconds to bloom the spices, then add the crushed tomatoes, stirring to incorporate and keep the spices from scorching. Rinse the can with 1 cup of water and add that too. Taste.

Return the chicken to the pan, bring to a simmer, and cook uncovered for 15-20 minutes.

Add the cream and simmer ~10 minutes more, stirring occasionally.

In the last 2-3 minutes of cooking, taste for seasoning, add the curry leaves, and adjust with lemon or lime juice as needed to brighten.

Serve with rice, naan, or whatever. Watch out for the chiles and the cinnamon stick.

Awoo^^

Culinary Life vs Covid Life: Comparisons

 

Think back to the start of the pandemic. I know you don't want to. It's not over, and the people who say otherwise have money to make on the backs of the dead.

But when the lockdown orders came, I was happy. Unemployment, though a pittance, would keep me from being homeless for a while. I spent the time exercising, writing, reading, doing recipe dev work, and a little remote consulting, while being very, very careful about where and when I shopped for groceries. (Sidenote: How do you know it's shaping up to be bad? When the local Mexican market is out of dried beans.)

Weeks passed, slowly and steadily. I kept a diary for most of the first year, and much of the less personal notes were centered around how other people were reacting to the physical realities of the situation. "Cabin fever" was running rampant, and even in my social circles I would often see things like "Not being able to go out, see people, and do things is wreaking havoc on my mental health.", and all too often that left me seething.

Those most likely to say such things were (and remain) those least inconvenienced by such necessities. Often able to work remotely and so sustain their income, financially comfortable enough to get food and groceries delivered, or even live independently. The social side of their lifestyles, though, had been cut down to a size quite familiar to me, and to a great many others in my field.

The food business doesn't pay well, despite what seems like far too many working hours. Nights, weekends, holidays, they're all spoken for, and the effort leaves many too worn to do anything else even when times allow. What does that all too often mean? No socializing. No parties. No restaurants or nights at the bar. No favorite hangouts, movies, or events. Naught but sitting at home, contact with others only through radio, phone, or screen.

Sound familiar? So... restricted by plague? Or by poverty? Not much of a difference between, really.

Now in the grip of COVID, the rest of the world learned, or were reminded, of what it feels like to have no means, no access to many of the joys and pleasures of life. What did a great many of them do? They crumbled. 

Those of us who deal with such handicaps as a part of our normal lives have had a very hard time finding sympathy- plenty of us were and still are working, risking our health and safety to better ensure the comfort and ease of those with the ways and means to stay secluded.

They really ought to work harder to be worthy of our sacrifices.

Fiddling With Pho, Part 2: Broth

 

It's a tricky thing to get the kind of flavor development you want in a comforting bowl of soup without muddying up the flavors themselves. Pho is no different in that respect, but it has some more interesting aspects that require vigorous balancing. The additions and techniques themselves are fairly simple, but the adjustments and quantities are largely up to you. In some ways, part of the process is rather like making stock... twice. You make it, and then you make it again using the first stock in lieu of water, compounding the flavor development.

• Salt. Yes, it's obvious, but it does merit a mention. Underseasoned food means the flavor suffers, irrespective of how well that flavor has been developed.
• Reduction. Slowly and deliberately evaporating a portion of the water will leave behind the flavor compounds and concentrate them.
• Gelatin. This is one that doesn't get a lot of play, but for a richer and more viscous mouthfeel, an extra envelope of unflavored gelatin will get you places you could never otherwise go.
• Fish sauce. It's got a lot of names (including some nasty ones if you spill or break the bottle), but it's a necessary fundamental to a proper bowl of pho. It's not vigorously salty, but it adds enormous depth and body.
• More spices. You're going to want to infuse even more flavor- that means ginger, galangal, coriander, star anise, cinnamon, and all manner of other aromatic enhancements.
• Sugar. Yes, sugar. Ideally dark brown sugar or palm/coconut sugar for their more complex flavor profiles, this adds a great deal of intensity in a way that salt and pseudosalts cannot.

Now if you cook a lot, there's one that you might expect to see but don't: booze. I can't say for sure why that is, but my personal hunch is along the lines of "Why not just drink it?". Drinking culture is quite normalized in Vietnam, and anecdotally homemade booze is also not uncommon, particularly among the more rural mountain communities. I don't know the necessary minutiae of Vietnamese history offhand, so I can't help but jokingly wonder- can we partially blame the French for that?
For once though, I doubt it.