Dinner Parties & Exploring Koreatown

Warning: this is going to be a random post. It's been too long since I've written here, and I just had so many things going on in my brain that I wanted to put on here. Basically I decided a dinner party would be a perfect excuse to cook a bunch of new food and write a blog post. Also, there are very few things that make me happier than cooking for and with friends.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. There's some necessary lead up to this dinner party. First, Rachel and I recently bought a new house with a new kitchen and new gas stove. We're breaking the kitchen in the way you gotta break in a new kitchen (with delicious cooking duh). 

The other thing is I discovered this book Koreatown by Deuki Hong & Matt Rodbard. I'm about halfway through it and it's already one of my top 5 favorite books (not cookbooks, books in general). Does anyone else read cookbooks cover to cover like narrative books? Is that weird or totes norms? Anyway, it's amazing. The recipes are accessible to an amateur cook like me and the food is obviously delicious, but the illustrations and photography are also fantastic and the interviews are enlightening. 

In the book is a recipe for pineapple kimchi that I knew I had to make as soon as I saw it. I started talking to my friend Ben about it, and he immediately went all in on the idea of pineapple kimchi. We decided to use the dinner party as an excuse to hang out and make a bunch of Korean food. We made the pineapple kimchi, which is so sweet, tangy, and funky all at the same time that no description adequately describes it. Basically, you just have to check the recipe below and make it for yourself. I also made the Kongnamul Muchin (Crunchy Sesame Bean Sprouts) from Koreatown. Ben smoked pork and made a gochujang sauce (which I do not have recipes for because he's the one who made it so go ask him yourself anyway jeez). I also made guava ice cream for dessert and Rachel made guava gin fizzes to kick that dinner party off right!

Finally, I hate taking blog photos. We ran a bourbon blog for several years and that whole staging stuff before serving is tiring and tedious. (Kudos to all of you who manage to do it without tearing your hair out.) So instead I just left my camera out and let anyone grab it and take pics whenever. 

Kimchi Pineapple

Ingredients

• ½ cup peeled, cored and chopped Asian pear
• ½ cup coarsely ground gochugaru
• ¼ cup fish sauce
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 Tbsp sugar
• 2 tspn minced ginger
• 1 large pineapple, trimmed, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

Add pear, gochugaru, fish sauce, garlice, sugar, and ginger to a food processor and mix until smooth. In a large pickling jar or airtight container, add the pineapple and 1 cup of marinade and stir to coat. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

Bloggin' 'Bout Biscuits

Everything is a work in progress. We're all working on ourselves, trying to become better people, and learning new things. I've said it a million times: I suck at baking. But I've always wanted to be a dude who could make biscuits because biscuits are delicious. They also hold this weird exotic, nearly unattainable breakfast status in my brain because, when you grow up in Hawaii in a Filipino family, you eat rice with breakfast (and every other meal). 

Anyway, in the spirit of being a more complete, better human being and living my life like Bon Jovi, I decided I needed to be a dude who can make biscuits. Now, if anyone ever thinks "Oh hey, I could really go for a biscuit right now. Who can make me a fresh biscuit?" It's me. I can make a biscuit. Next step is to make a mean fried chicken because duh, chicken and biscuits.

Also, can we talk about dough for a second? Dough is so cool. I've played with dough a lot in the past several months. Even though I'm not much of a Patty Cakes Bakersman, I have this thing with noodles, which obviously requires dough (duh). I mentioned briefly in my carbonara post that making noodles is very satisfying. IT'S BECAUSE OF THE DOUGH! I totally understand bakerspeople in a way I never did before. You very precisely measure out all these ingredients, mix all that stuff together, make this weird ball of...stuff, and transform it into OH MY GOD THE MOST DELICIOUS THINGS! My wife makes bread every week and then we make pizza with the dough and every time it's like "OH MY GOODNESS THE HOUSE SMELLS LIKE HEAVEN!" Anyway, dough is cool.

On my quest to become a bro who can bake a biscuit, I used Sydney's recipe on Crepes of Wrath. If you're not reading her blog then you're probably doing food and the Internet wrong. Also I'm not really a bro but I like alliteration. She used leaf lard, which I couldn't find. I used some cheap lard I found at my local grocery store, and it worked adequately enough to make a dang good biscuit. Eventually I'm gonna find some leaf lard and make these biscuits again. Also, I didn't have a round cutter so I just used a drinking glass. It actually worked well because air gets trapped in the glass and pushes the biscuit dough out after you cut it. Eat your biscuits with jam, gravy, butter, or whatever other delicious thing you want to eat your biscuit with. I ate mine with creamed honey. Recipe below this biscuit just chillin' in my backyard.

Blue Ribbon Biscuits (via Crepes of Wrath)
Prep time:  30 mins
Cook time:  15 mins
Total time:  45 mins
Serves: 12 biscuits

Ingredients

• 4 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• ½ cup leaf lard, cubed
• ¼ cup unsalted butter, cubed and chilled
• 2 cups whole milk

Instructions

1. Preheat your oven to 450 degrees F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper or a Silpat. Set aside.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together your flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add in your cubed leaf lard and cubed butter (if you are not using leaf lard, I recommend using ½ cup unsalted butter and ¼ cup shortening) and cut the fats into your flour mixture until coarse crumbs form, using either your hands or a pastry cutter (I find that hands work best).
3. Add in your milk and mix with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms (do not over mix). Lightly flour a work surface and turn the dough out, knead gently a few times to bring the dough together, then form into two balls. Set one ball aside while you roll out the first.
4. Roll the dough into a rectangle, a little smaller than your baking sheet, then fold that rectangle into thirds, like how you'd fold a piece of paper to fit into an envelope. Fold the dough again into thirds, this time in the opposite direction.
5. Press the dough with your hands into a rectangle about 1½-inches thick. Use circle cutters to cut the biscuits out, being careful not to twist the cutter as you pull each biscuit out and place on your baking sheet (twisting the biscuits ruins your nice layers). Repeat with your other ball of dough.
6. Bake the biscuits for 15-17 minutes, until just barely golden (start watching them at around 12 minutes, as every oven is different). Allow to cool slightly before serving.

Why Cook Carbonara?

Castello Scaligero

Food is important because it reminds of something. It connects us to something larger than ourselves, recalls a specific moment in time,  or reminds us of a specific person. Both eating and cooking works this way. I, like many people, also cook because it's an act of creation. (I am only a cook, and probably only an adequate one. My brother is a chef, and a very impressive one. I feel that's an important distinction to make.)

Here's the thing: I don't even like Italian food that much. I mean, I like Italian food the way everyone likes Italian food. I don't love Italian food the way I love other food. It doesn't feel like home the way almost any Asian cuisine does. I have never craved any Italian dish the way I constantly crave cassoulet. 

But almost 5 years ago, my wife and I traveled to Malcesine, Italy for our friends' wedding. At this point, I didn't know Rachel's friends very well, and I was nervous about traveling to a small town in Italy to spend a lot of time with people I didn't know. We ate very well there, of course. To say all of the food was delicious would be an understatement, but one meal stands out.

Rachel and I arrived late to dinner one night. I don't even remember if we ordered food or if it was just passed to us. However it happened, a carbonara was placed in front of me. Maybe I ordered it—"bacon and eggs pasta!" is definitely a thing that would run through my brain. 

This carbonara was not unlike any other carbonara I've ever had, only a million times better. It was creamy and salty and cheesy and fresh as fuck. This was maybe the first time it really clicked that a dish can be so much greater than the sum of its parts. Carbonara is a relatively simple dish. It's basically ham, eggs, cheese, garlic, and noodles. You can add white wine in the mix if you want, but it's unnecessary to make a great meal. 

That night we ate, drank, and talked until we might have been the only people awake in the town, except for the bar owners who stayed open to serve us limoncello. We dangled our feet off docks and tried not to get killed by swans. Swans are mean motherfuckers. So I cook carbonara because it's easy and satisfying, and because it reminds me what I learned about food that night. It also reminds me that we drank a lot of limoncello, I made a lot of new friends, and Rachel almost got her dress set on fire because everyone was being too nice. 

Below is a brief recipe for carbonara. I won't always include recipes in posts because I'm only an adequate cook. I'm also bad at recipes. Improvisation and imprecision is much more fun. It's also why I suck at baking.

Carbonara:

• 1 lb. pasta noodles* 
• 2 Tbspn olive oil
• 4 ounces pancetta (or hiqh quality bacon) cubed
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup of high quality Parmigiano-Reggiano, grated  (plus more for serving)
• about 1 cup parsley, chopped
• ground black pepper

*You can use dry spaghetti if you want, but I suggest making the noodles if you can. It's super easy and very satisfying. I find the act of making noodles to be very therapeutic as well. All it takes is 1 cup flour and 2 eggs. Mix until it starts to combing. It'll look like a mess. Don't worry. Knead the dough until it takes the shape of a ball of dough. Once the dough is elastic and not too sticky, cut the dough into pieces that you can flatten and roll into sheets. Use plenty of flour to keep the sheets from sticking to itself. Then slice into noodles. Or use a pasta maker. 

Cook the noodles to al dente at the same time as the pancetta. You'll want the noodles to be hot when you add it to the mixture. Reserve some of the floury water from the noodles for the sauce.

In a bowl, mix the eggs and parmesan well, making sure to remove any lumps.

Heat the olive oil in a pan, then add the pancetta. Cook until crispy and the fat coats the pan. Add the garlic and sauté until soft. Remove from heat and stir in the noodles. Stir in the egg mixture and combine. The flour water from the pasta can be used to help you reach the sauce consistency that you prefer. Add the parsley and pepper and stir. 

Top with pepper and a sprig of parsley.