how to eat like a bird

staving off obsession

 

I went outside for all of five minutes today for the purpose of a large iced coffee before retreating back indoors to spend a Saturday afternoon catching up on news and political blogs and appearances by both presidential candidates on such shows as The View and David Letterman. And by catching up, I mean I hadn't checked in with the state of Alaskan politics since yesterday afternoon. Last night I had a two-hour conversation about earmarks.

Then I read this L.A. Times article by Meghan Daum about how she, too, has been obsessed with politics of late, even going so far as to read the comments under blog postings commentating on the comments. I thought I was the only one! Except now it's all too much. And she warns against the negative trappings of such obsessive tracking of the political climate...i.e., paranoia and rage. She helpfully suggests we get back to our friends, loved ones and abandoned hobbies of yore.

Which made me think of my one other obsession: checking out the prices for Staub dutch ovens on Amazon.com. Before I owned two of these (a 5-quart and a 2-quart), snagged on Amazon for well under 50% off retail, I used to kind of stalk the site with a vigilance that I should probably definitely apply to something else. I'm not looking to buy more, but it's still a compulsion to check in every now and then, and lo and behold, here they're offering a yellow 5-quart for $95.

That's about as good as it gets for that size. Still pricey for a pot, but definitely a deal if you've been looking at Staub or Le Creuset. I don't own any Le Creusets, so I can't make a fair comparison. But I prefer the aesthetics of Staub and as a snob, like that it's not as ubiquitous. The handle is steel, not plastic like Le Creuset and the dark enamel on the interior is likely to hold up better with age than the light interior of Le Creuset, which may stain. The dark interior is also supposedly better in producing fond, which is the brown, caramelized bits that form at the bottom when cooking meat, or even vegetables I've found, which is the most delicious part of all, even when deglazed with something as simple as water.

Some people like the size of Le Creuset better (their 5-qt is a little bigger); it's easier to see what you'e cooking with the lighter-colored enamel; and some say Le Creuset has the tighter-fitting lid).

I actually don't use my 5-qt much, but my 2-qt is in frequent use, especially for brown rice, and I love its small heft and glazed-green appearance. But I know part of this love stems from the fact that I got it for $29.99. So if you miss out on this sale, keep checking in every now and then; it's well worth it.

how to eat like an albatross

Even on 12,000 calories a day, Michael Phelps is glad the swimming is over so he can eat whatever he wants. Apparently he’s been hankering for a juicy cheeseburger instead of a pizza and pound of pasta every night.

Here’s what 12,000 calories look like (under Features): cheerfully repellent if you’re not a morning person (a five-egg omelet, three fried-egg sandwiches, grits, French toast, three chocolate-chip pancakes just for breakfast). A local newscaster noted for comparison’s sake what the U.S. female gymnasts eat. It was very depressing, resembling as it did any sensible diet touted in any women’s magazine. Five small meals interspersed throughout the day with highlights being a piece of chicken and snacks of vegetables (and probably eight almonds).

And some Olympians (like swimmer Ryan Lochte) feast on MickeyD’s. Who knew? I thought they only endorsed the stuff. Six-foot-five Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt won the 100-meter dash on a stomach full of chicken nuggets, with one shoe untied. When I eat McDonald’s, I have to lie down for a bit. And the rare times I’m on a treadmill and my shoestrings come undone, I take it as a sign from God that my workout is over (safety first). 

a soft-boiled egg with pine nut sauce

For a long time, my breakfast of choice was a nice, cold can of very crisp Coke. I've altered that a bit with choices ranging from fizzy Kombucha to eight cups of mellow green tea to iced coffee spiked with sugar and milk. But the methodology has remained the same, in that I stick to beverages that can double as a drug. I am not interested in solids before noon and it's hard to fit in breakfast when I wake up 20 minutes before needing to be somewhere. Like, say, it is the weekend and I am to meet a friend at 4pm, I will wake up at 3:40.

But I am trying to change that as apparently, eating breakfast is the most important thing you can do, next to exercising, to maintain a healthy weight. And apparently all the CEOs in New York are up and about early--by 6am, having already done with their run around the reservoir. I think I read this in 1999, so you see how I am on top of things.

I tried to make this dish for two weeks. I was attracted to its simplicity in terms of both time and ingredients list, and while something with anchovy paste might be a turn-off for breakfast, I think a bit of fish paste, nuts and eggs are a fine way to begin the day--all that protein! And many Asian cultures have a savory breakfast with a bit of fish and rice to start the day, or even just some miso soup.

But this recipe, even with just five ingredients, takes a little bit of planning, as you have to soak the pine nuts the night before, and then you have to pull out your spice grinder (or mini-food processor or mortar and pestle or bag and hammer) to grind the nuts. A soft-boiled egg only takes three to four minutes, but the water has to come to a boil--it was all too much for me to take in the morning. After two weeks and half a cup of wasted pine nuts, I gave up on this for breakfast and made it for the simplest of suppers.

You shouldn't make this if you detest anchovies or never use pine nuts (not worth the cost for a simple dish meant to be made impromptu with staple items). Do make it if you love salty-pungent dishes like a good bagna cauda or a midnight repast of eggs. Over asparagus or with a side of toast, this would be a complete meal. The pine nut sauce (or paste, as it turned out) lasts all week and I had plenty leftover, so afterwards a quick breakfast is actually possible.

I think the recipe as posted here on the Splendid Table web site is off. I cut it in half, but even 2 tablespoons of anchovy paste seem way too much, as that would be seemingly half a tube. And the amount of honey seems miniscule. So I just adapted it to taste, and you should, too. This wimpy base should be a safe starting point. 

Adapted from Around the Roman Table: Food and Feasting in Ancient Rome by Patrick Faas

Soft-boiled eggs with pine nut sauce

• up to 4 eggs
• half a cup of pine nuts
• 1 teaspoon anchovy paste or garum
• 2 tablespoons of honey
• black pepper to taste

Soak the pine nuts in water overnight or for a few hours. Grind them and mix with the honey, anchovy paste or garum, and black pepper. Heat in a double-boiler (or bowl over pot of boiling water). Meanwhile, soft boil the eggs. (Place eggs in a pot of cold water and cook for 4 minutes after the water has come to a boil.) Immerse eggs in cold water before peeling them. Serve with the sauce.   

small bites: a roast pork sandwich at Chino’s

Back in 2005, New York magazine named this palm-sized concoction one of the best new sandwiches of the year. Three years later and off the radar, it’s still incredibly good. They mound a generous amount of delicate roast pork onto a seasoned and toasted steamed bun and garnish it with mild kimchi, cilantro and a creamy, house-made mustard sauce that makes it complete (and arguably worth the whopping $9 price tag).

The better deal is at lunch, when Chino's offers two small plates for $12. You can get the same-sized sandwich plus something else. But even if you can’t get there for a weekday lunch, this sandwich is kind of worth it (if you are of smallish figure with a non–bear-like appetite). I was surprised to find that while I wasn’t full after eating it, I wasn’t at all hungry three hours later. (Four hours later was a different story).

Chino’s is at 173 Third Avenue, between 16th and 17th Streets.

a kimchi bokum bap with egg

You can make so many things if you happen to have a tub of kimchi in your house at all times. One of my staple items, which I never tire of, especially when I have leftover brown rice on hand is this simple kimchi bokum bap, or stir-fry with potatoes, onion, kimchi and rice. Whether you use white or brown, leftover rice works better than newly steamed because there’s less moisture and little risk of it getting mushy. I like brown rice because it stays intact and has more of a bite to it, especially when you let it stick to the pan and get a little toasted in sesame oil.

Chop a smallish Idaho potato (or 2 large red potatoes) and half an onion into small cubes and stir-fry in a pan over medium heat. I usually start off with grapeseed oil, but you can use sesame. If you find that the potatoes are sticking to the pan too much, add a little water and cover with a lid. Also, salt and pepper the whole thing. Sometimes I add a dash of soy sauce.

When the potatoes are almost done (still too firm but edible), add a handful of chopped up kimchi. When the kimchi is fairly translucent (it should only take a couple minutes more if your kimchi pieces are small), I add sesame oil and my cooked rice. I stir everything together and turn the heat up, letting the rice sit in the pan and get toasty. Some people like a crust to form, like in a paella or a dol sot bee bim bap. And some people like to add Spam or ham, carrots or peas.

Basically you can use whatever you like or have on hand. It’s one of those dishes. It’s also one of those Jesus dishes, in that a small volume of a few humble ingredients can feed multitudes. Or well, at least three or four, as the above does. I also like to fry an egg in sesame oil and place on top. The yolk mellows out the acidity of the kimchi and it is all very yummy, indeed.

too much of a good thing

Marcella Hazan’s simple but rich tomato sauce is one of the most blogged about recipes on the Web. You need only a can of tomatoes, about half a stick of butter, and half an onion. Add a little salt and cook everything in a pot, first over medium heat to get it going, then at a low simmer for under an hour. (Leave the onion intact, as it’s only there for flavor and meant to be discarded at the end).

I made this recently with a small can of tomatoes (15 oz.) and what butter I had leftover—probably 4 tablespoons, and it was tremendously satisfying, turning a dry goods staple—year-old spaghetti noodles—into something of a velvety treat, while remaining on all fronts a model of economy. You need only a dollop of sauce to dress your noodles, and in terms of effort, you barely have to move for this one.

So then I wanted more. I got a bigger can of tomatoes (28 oz.), and misremembering the original directive of 5 tablespoons of butter per large can of tomatoes, dumped in a whole stick, thinking I was doubling the proportions of my previous success. More or less, I was, but I overlooked the fact that I would be eating a lot more of it, and repetitively, for more than a day. It was buttery and luscious and all too much. I longed for salmon and greens and nutty brown rice, all things I usually don’t long for.

The lesson here, I believe, is that if you’re going to eat something amazingly rich, either eat a reasonably small portion to enjoy the taste without feeling guilty, or eat quite a bit of it, so much so that you become sick of it and actually want its antithesis—in this case, lean protein, and yes, even exercise. The latter is in theory, of course. But I did have grilled salmon the next night, and it was good.