Dim Sum with Po Po

Hmmm. I have noticed that this blog has made a course quite different than I had planned. I thought that I would be writing about my experiences with pastry, but that has only become a small part of this short-lived blog.

But who cares...and now onto dim sum with Po Po (the Cantonese word for maternal grandmother.)

What would food experiences be without a good dose nostalgia? Growing up Chinese American, dim sum has such a deep rooted part of my childhood, and it it not just to food, it's the whole atmosphere.

I don't get to see my Po Po too often, and I had a feeling that it was that time to make time. We ventured to Mayflower Restaurant and Lounge, a restaurant that my family have been long time patrons to. So long, that my grandmother gets the hook up with extra dishes. We sat down at a small round table for five, the three other seats for an unrelated uncle and two aunties.

Waiters and waitresses dressed in their uniforms: the men either in a green vest or a peach suit jacket; the women in black vests. All have bow ties and black pants. Managers have their suits. Carts of dim sum maneuver their way around the packed tables. Trays with egg tarts, taro dumplings, and other assorted dishes make their way to every table as each member of the waitstaffs announces their featured dish.

My dim sum experience would be incomplete with my childhood favorites. The first is har gau, the shrimp dumplings that are enveloped in a thin wheat starch wrapping. Then, of course, the steamed barbeque pork bun (cha siu bo). And it must be steamed, not the baked one. Cheong fun, the rice noodle rolls filled with beef or shrimp accompanied with soy sauce. Then of course the cups and cups of tea. Going out for dim sum is also refered to yum cha, which directly transtlated means to drink tea.


And, yes, the dishes sometimes do get, well, wierd: like the barbequed chicken feet (in which B is absolutely appalled by) or duck beaks. But that is such a small part of this varietal feasts.

One more thing that is part of my experience of this tradition: the "fight" over who pays the bill.

Buttercream

Swiss meringue buttercream.

I had the hardest time learning how to make it. I mean, I can do it in my sleep now, but it took me forever to get that confidence. One thing working with pastry is that you need to learn how to pay attention to detail. You learn how to look at your product and gauge how it is coming along. Catching mistakes early saves you from upcoming headaches (and heartaches.)

I don't really care too much for frosting. To be honest, I don't really like buttercream, (whipped cream for me, please) but having a good buttercream recipe is essential. Because it involves incorporting air, it is much lighter than your supermarket frosting (which if you read the label is mostly made of shortening and sugar.)

I threw out many failed batches. But after making it over and over, I have learned a few things to make this buttercream foolproof.

Swiss meringue buttercream involves two parts: the Swiss meringue, which is egg whites and sugar, heated over a water bath and then whipped in a stand mixer. Then butter is added.


The recipe involves 1 1/2 cups sugar and 3/4 cups egg whites (a Swiss meringue is 2:1 sugar to egg white) and 1 pound of soften butter.

A quick note on the butter. It should be soft and quite maleable in your hands, but not melted. If the butter is too cool, it will not mix into the meringue and, you will get chunks of butter throughout your buttercream. (You can get this by microwaving the butter in 5 second intervals. Or, you can leave it out at room temperature for a few hours.)

Place the sugar and egg whites into a mixer bowl. Whisk it by hand. Place over a pot of simmering water. (Bowl should not touch the water.) Continue whisking, scraping the bowl as you go. If you don't, your egg white mixture will not heat evenly and you will have cooked egg whites. (Heating the meringue makes it more stable.)

Heat to 140 F.

You can use an instant-read thermometer. But if you don't have one, you can test it by touching the meringue with the back part of your finger. It should feel hot, but not burning. Think about a hot bath after a long tiring day.

Remove and place in a mixer and whisk on medium high until cool. This may take a while depending on how much buttercream you are making and the temperature of the room. It can take 10 minutes or as long as 45 minutes. Again, test by touching the meringue with the back of your finger.

The meringue should also hold its shape. (Also known as a stiff meringue.)

When it is cool, add the butter a little at a time. There should be about ten additions. Keep whisk going at medium speed after each addition.

The buttercream may look like it is not coming together, almost clumpy, but keep whisking! It should bind. When the buttercream has come together, take out the bowl of from the mixer. With a spatula scrape the bottom and finish by hand.

And there you go: beautiful buttery buttercream. At this point you can flavor it as you like: vanilla extra, strongly brewed coffee, melted chocolate, etc. (With chocolate, take a third of the finished buttercream and mix seperately with the chocolate. Then add into the bigger batch of buttercream.)

It is best to use the buttercream right away, but refrigerate or freeze if not using right away. Just leave it out at room temperature when you plan to use it.

All Things Chocolate: Valrhona

I remember my first taste of a piece of Valrhona chocolate. I was just starting my third year working in the pastry kitchen, working at a high end Vietnamese restaurant. There were two bags of Valrhona 82% cacao and 70% cacao in the kitchen which was used to make the chocolate praline mousse. I pulled out an oval button from the 82%. I don't remember when was the last time that I ate a piece of chocolate by itself: unadorned and unaccompanied. Just by itself.

But I remember my eyes lighting up: the immediate bitterness followed by a sweet wave of evolving flavor. But I found that I enjoyed the 70% so much more. Because it has a less cacao than the 82%, it was a bit sweeter. I definately enjoyed the fruity notes in Valrhona.

I recently started trying different brands of chocolate, just to taste, to experience the different flavors, to figure out my own preferences. My latest bar of chocolate is Valrhona's Palmira 2007. Valrhona has a line of vintage bars, which like wine, is label according the year it was made. The cacao beans are from Venezuela, and the chocolate is mildly fruity with some acidity. (I think that is why it reminded me of wine.)

Cheeseboard!

So I finally made my way to The Cheeseboard Collective. I have heard so much about their product: the cheese, the bread, and the pizza. I have often driven passed it and noticed a long string of customers waiting for their turn to buy the pizza of the day. There is only one type of pizza each day and everyday is different.

Cheeseboard, unlike many other restaurants, is worker owned, meaning that everyone has a say in the decision making process about how the business is run. It is a business that has been around since the late sixties and has been going strong ever since. There are two stores: one selling cheese and bread, and the other pizza.

I was helping a friend move out of her place and I was to stop by Cheeseboard Pizza while everyone finished up loading the truck. Unfortunately, I was a bit early for their dinner service so I just went two doors down for some savory bread. I picked up some bialys (sourdough bread with poppy seeds and onions), some pesto focaccia, and the focaccia with the tomato paste and green onions.

I was so excited to finally get a small taste of some Cheeseboard product that I didn't mind that we had to go without the pizza.

Next time, I definately want to make sure I get a chance to grab some of their pizza for dinner. (When they don't have feta on it, because B does not like feta.) Or, just pick up another bread to try.

Health Care

You go out for dinner on a Saturday night at a restaurant in San Francisco. You enjoy the ambiance, the service is great, and, best of all, the food is awesome. But, of course, you have to pay the price for your culinary experience. You get the bill and notice that there is a 2 % surcharge on top of the price of the dishes, the tax, and the tip. How would you feel?

But how would you feel knowing that the extra 2 % you have to pay goes to supporting health care for the restaurant employees. That includes your server who remembered the "dressing on the side" and the "water, no ice." That includes the prep cook who chopped up the cauliflower in your cauliflower gratin, the line cook who grilled your steak perfectly to your choice of medium rare, and the pastry cook who plated your chocolate espresso pot de creme.

San Francisco now has a health insurance ordinance which provides a way for the uninsured to get access to health care. Sounds like a great idea.

But, how does this affect your dining experience?

Restauranters were required earlier this year to find a way to provide coverage for their employees or pay a fee to the city for this health care program. In order to raise the funds to pay for health coverage, restaurants have to be creative such as: adding small fees to the bill, charging for items like bread (that would have otherwise been complimentary), etc.

Being a cook myself, it would be nice for everyone in the kitchen to receive health insurance. (I am fortunate to be covered by my husband's.) But the funds have to come from somewhere and I don't think that the general public would want to pay more taxes for this health ordinance. So it comes down to the employers.

Raising the prices on the menu would not be the tactful since prices at some restaurants have already been adjusted due to the rising cost of food.

So please, when you go out and see those small addition to your tab, understand that there is someone in the kitchen who endures long hours of standing, who been trained to cook your meal with precision. For a moment, think about those who after you have long finished your meal and have heading out to enjoy the rest of your evening, has still yet to finish the night over flaming stoves and hot ovens.

Think about us who are good at what we do and love it, who endure it whether or not we get the health care or not, who after a long day of busting in the kitchen can still find satisfaction in what we do.


You can find out more about the health care ordinance at SFGate or at Golden Gate Restaurant Association.

All Things Chocolate...

I have decided to write a series on different aspects of chocolate. And though I am not a huge fan of chocolate, there are so many things about this ingredient that intrigues me and, I feel, demands closer observation and attention.

So every few weeks or so, I will post something that I've learned or experienced about chocolate whether it is a new brand that I've tasted or a recipe that I have been working with...

Chocolate is complex. It has been a culinary luxury, historically, and it has been as rare as gold during times of war. It has delighted many from children, to foodies, to friends sharing a hot fudge sundae. It is one of the toughest ingredients to work with, giving you no mercy if you fight against it. But it can be your friend as it awakens the sense and tickles your palate.

Chocolate is choice. One may buy only bittersweet chocolate while others indulge in milk chocolate. One person will have it in any way shape or form while another prefers it as a simple bar of chocolate. Some like it as an indulgence as they order double chocolate cakes or fudgy brownies for their dessert. Others prefer chocolate in moderation like a chocolate chip cookies., once in a while.

Chocolate is diverse. It comes in the form of bars, powder, and nibs to name a few. It comes in hot drinks, cold drinks. It can be cheap, mix with unpronounceable ingredients. Or it can come expensive at almost eight dollars for a three ounces.

Chocolate is curiosity.

The Wonders of the Korean Market

It's been a while since we've been to the Korean market to get our staple Asian ingredients. The one we venture to is in Daly City. It is farther away from us that some other Asian markets, but it is along the way to visit my family.

First, pan chan, the assorted fermented and pickled side dishes at the Korean table, are found in vats and our bought by weight. B, my hubby, loves the shredded spicy cuttle fish and the black beans, while I usually go for the seaweed salad and pickled daikons and cucumbers. This time, I also picked up the fish cakes.


Strangely, we both dislike kim chee.

One thing to note about pan chan when dining at a Korean restaurant: If the pan chan at a restaurant does not taste good or if there isn't much variety, then you can forget about the restaurant because low quality side dishes reflects poorly on the restaurant.

And what is an Asian market without fresh meat? A huge part of any Asian market is the butchery. At this one, it pretty much takes up the whole back wall of the market. You can pick the cut of meat that you want or select your fish from the tank. At this one, they lay out whole fishes on beds of ice. Here is a monkfish:




Also, there is the rice. Here at the Korean market, there is an aisle dedicated to rice from sweet brown to a mix bag of varieties. Also, you can find tapioca pearls and dried beans. A whole new aisle is dedicated to noodles. There is the vermicelli that is made of mung beans (completely wheat free), the soba noodles, the rice noodles. the buckwheat noodles.... But we stick to our brown and white rice. (But $5.99 for a five pound bag of rice reflects the recent rise in cost for rice.)

And a favorite snack for both of us kim bop. Not to be mistaken for sushi. Rather than raw fish, there is usually egg or shredded beef.


And of course, an aisle for sweets: the pumpkin flavored chips, the red bean paste cakes, and the crunchy corn puffs. But my childhood favorite: Pocky, those chocolate covered cracker sticks. There were only two flavors of when I was a kid: chocolate and strawberry. Now there is a display of all of them by the register Men's Pocky? It's a dark chocolate one. I don't know what that is supposed to mean.

I was never into Korean food until we were married. My mother-in-law, makes the best Korean barbeque, kalbi, short ribs marinated in her own mixture of soy sauce, brown sugar, and other ingredients. . We probably bring back about fifty pounds of frozen marinated meat every time we visit. And it make a great excuse to invite people over for a barbeque.