ginger spring onion sauce with miso soba

ginger spring onion sauce with miso soba

this may sound absurd but i sometimes wish that i could buy individual spring onions. this is because i usually use them as a garnish and find that a large remainder of the bunch languishes in the vegetable drawer. however this week the fortunes of my bunch of spring onion changed all because of an adaptation momofuku’s ginger spring onion sauce.

shuhan of mummy, i can cook writes a lovely blog with an emphasis on how to eat and how to cook. she’s an art student so her blog has a refreshing appeal with colours that mimic spring and graphics to illustrate her recipes. her adaptation of momofuku’s ginger spring onion sauce is called ‘ginger-garlic-spring onion miracle sauce’ and she marries the chinese sauce with spelt tagliolini. i decided to keep to the east asian region by using soba noodles as the base for my dish. because it is still cold i had my soba hot which in japanese cuisine is known as kakejiru. i am certain that this would taste equally good cold.

the flavour of the broth is derived from powdered  dashi (stock) and a teaspoon of miso. i love the nutty, briny umami flavour of this combination. i poured this over soba noodles boiled to the point where they retained a bite. a version of ginger spring onion sauce was the centrepiece of the miso along with the soft heat from a sprinkle of ‘nanami togarashi’. the latter is a blend of seven essential japanese spices. there is the two-tone nuttiness of while and black sesame seeds, the freshness of orange peel and ginger which melds into a warm heat with two kinds of chilli pepper. the seaweed amplifies the umami in the soup. the ginger spring onion sauce itself is surprisingly sweet. it appears that the a little heat brings out the sweetness of the spring onions and wilts them into a soft collapse. the very slight bite of raw spring onion is nowhere to be found.

the recipe below makes one bowl of miso soba with ginger spring onion sauce.

a teaspoon of blonde miso

three hundred ml hot water (from a just boiled kettle)

three quarters of a tablespoon powered dashi

eighty grams soba noodles

one and a half teaspoons ground nut oil

two cloves of garlic, finely minced

a thimble sized lump of ginger, grated fine

four spring onions, thinly sliced (use both the green and white part)

two tablespoons mirin sake

make the miso soup by combining the first three ingredients on the list in a saucepan. keep the saucepan on low heat so that the soup remains hot while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

cook the soba as per the instructions on the packet. i like mine to retain a strong bite. after draining place the soba in a soup bowl.

warm the groundnut oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. cook the ginger and garlic in the warmed oil taking care that they  do not colour at all. what you are looking for is for the heat to soften and release their aromas. this should take around two minutes.

at this point raise the heat to medium-high. working quickly  put the sliced spring onions in the pan and give them a quick stir. then introduce the mirin sake and turn the heat up to high. it will sizzle a bit. what i wanted was the shortest possible braise that collects the flavours of the three elements in the pan. this part should take no more than a minute. the spring onions should maintain their brightness but soften completely.

the final part is assembling the soup. pour the miso soup over the soba and top with the ginger spring onion sauce. sprinkle it with the ‘nanami togarashi’ and eat.

memories of pakistani chinese & a recipe for chicken corn soup

chicken corn soup at thirty-two

i cannot think of a particular cuisine and culture that does not have a version of chicken soup. folk medicine and chicken soup have somewhat of a symbiotic relationship because every mother or grandmother i have known always recommends chicken soup as the restorative broth for coughs and colds. jewish cuisine goes so far as to maintain that chicken soup is penicillin for colds. i am not too sure about that because in my experience coughs and colds run their full course. but i do agree that a large bowl of chicken soup does much to lift the spirits when your nose is rimmed red and raw from having been cleaned too much and your throat feels like it has been sandpapered.

the pakistani version of chicken soup is yakhni. this clear and simple broth is actually steeped in flavour having drawn the entire essence of the chicken carcass. a thin film of fat from the chicken marks the surface as it cools. i must admit i am not too keen on plain yakhni for that reason but was quite content to drink mugs of powdered maggi yakhni as a child. (maggi is a nestlé brand of instant soups, sauces, stocks, seasonings and instant noodles. in south asia, its products include flavours like masala and chatpata alongside chicken and beef). i do sometimes wonder how mama put up with that given that a processed packaged mug of broth is nothing but manufactured flavour. aside from the synthetic  flavoured maggi, my other favourite was chinese chicken and vegetable soup. this was a clear chicken soup with paper-thin slices of chicken and vegetables poached in the broth. in some cases it would be thickened with corn flour. it was very rare for me to choose the common pakistani favourite chicken corn soup when we ate chinese.

i have always wondered what it is about chinese chicken corn soup that makes it so loved by the pakistani populace. its popularity is such that pakistani fast-food chains like black beards, captain cooks and dainty have it on their menu. perhaps its allure lies in how easily it can be made to conform to the pakistani palette. over zealous seasoning with rings of green chillies pickled in vinegar, pepper, soy sauce and red chilli flakes transformed it into a soup of purely local appeal. i always observed this transformation with interest as i tucked into a beef cheeseburger at black beards or the fantastic chicken fillet burger at dainty. the latter was the most perfect deep-fried chicken fillet smothered in mayonnaise on a milky sweet bun. the former had a patty that was too thin to be classified as a real burger but had that addictive quality of fast food. only the sweetness of the bun and a slice of a very yellow processed cheese balanced the peppery saltiness of the patty. i have no qualms admitting to eating these. i probably would not eat them now but back then the occasional burger from these fast food places was the perfect fix for a ‘desi’ burger craving. if i wanted the real deal, mama and baba made perfect classic burgers at home. black beards and dainty were the pakistani equivalent of burger king and kentucky fried chicken and who doesn’t love that guilt ridden fast food fix once in a while. when i was craving fast-food chinese i gravitated towards the peppery chowmein so i was quite surprised when two days ago i found myself wanting chinese chicken corn soup.

it could be the never-ending rain and cold windy weather in london, or a slow recovery from a cold that took residence in my chest and voice box. or it could have been the conversation with my best-friend sk who has been eating bowlfuls of chicken corn soup in from her local takeaway in dubai. i was unable to replicate the pakistani version probably because i do not season my soup as aggressively as i had seen in pakistan. but it is also because i added the egg and lemon mixture into the soup at too low a heat so the egg did not cook in wisps. pakistani chicken corn soup has a clear thick constitution with wisps of egg suspended in it. mine was a cloudy creamy concoction closer to an avgolemono (a mediterranean sauce and/or soup made with egg and lemon juice mixed with stock and heated until thick) . nevertheless it was as much comfort and nostalgia as could be held in a bowl. i garnished it with thinly sliced scallions, a dash of soy sauce and a single twist of the pepper mill. my version of chicken corn soup is nigella-ish – the stock came from a cube, the chicken was diced and sautéed with garlic and ginger rather poached and shredded and it only occurred to me afterwards that a little drizzle of toasted sesame oil would have been most welcome. but i am sure there will be a next time given that o loves chicken corn soup. something tells me that i will be making lots of this next winter. the recipe below makes two substantial bowls of chicken corn soup and is adapted from ainsley harriott’s meals in minutes.

one tablespoon vegetable oil

hundred grams boneless, skinless chicken breasts

one clove garlic, finely chopped

one cm piece of ginger, grated fine

one tablespoon cornflour

six hundred ml hot chicken stock made with a stock cube

hundred grams sweet corn

one egg

one tablespoon fresh lemon juice

one scallion, thinly sliced

soy sauce to drizzle

coarse pepper

dice the chicken into small pieces. heat the oil in a deep pan and cook till almost tender. introduce the garlic and ginger to the pan and cook to release their aromas. don’t let them colour.

blend the cornflour with a little stock and add to the soup pan with the remaining stock and the sweet corn. bring to the boil, stirring continuously and simmer gently for five to seven minutes

beat together the egg and lemon juice and slowly trickle into the soup pan, stirring with a chopstick or fork to form egg strands. correct the seasoning. i personally find that the stock is salty enough.  if you are using soy sauce that will be salty too so avoid over-salting. i use low sodium stock cubes and soy sauce.

ladle some soup into a bowl. garnish it with scallions, soy sauce and pepper and it is ready to eat.  

on perfect granola, lucky peach & the politics of food-blogging

gula melaka granola

put simply, this post is about granola perfected. i believe that granola aficionados should have a recipe to call their own. like most cooking, recipes are seldom invented anymore. instead they are adapted and made ones own through personalisation. but before i move onto the granola i want to take a moment and tell you about ‘lucky peach’ a quarterly food journal co-edited by momofuku’s dave chang. it makes for wonderful reading about everyday issues in food. issue number three is all about chefs. it flits between profanity, colloquialism, the politics of food and a beautiful essay by anthony bourdain on food in film titled eat, drink, fuck, die. and then there are recipes whose steps are connected with arrows like office presentations.  

lucky peach, quarterly food journal

the opening chef rant between dave chang, claude bosi, sat bains and daniel patterson is all about integrity, creation and copying and giving credit. i know that this conversation seems a little oblique but you’ll understand what i am talking about as you read on. the base recipe i have used for my perfect granola is nekisia davis’olive oil and maple granola who has adapted it very slightly from early bird foods' best-selling farmhand's choice granola... having read the chef rant a couple of days, i finally had the time to sift through my thoughts on the issue integrity and creativity.

over the last couple of months i’ve been seeing a lot of frustration in the blogging world. there have been incidences where pictures from the popular pinboard site pinterest have been used without proper attribution. and then there are the disconcerted food bloggers whose pictures and recipes have been lifted and used without acknowledgement. of course none of this is new and as very small fry i’ve never personally been affected by it. before twitter these issues were generally relegated to forums like egullet and chowhound or as extended discussions between blog readers at the end of posts. the ability to moderate comments allowed some sense of decorum to prevail. twitter demands that people should have the ability to moderate themselves, a skill which few people have or exercise. what’s more is that there is little sense of communal ethic for the creative aspect of blogging. shayma is an exceptional food blogger and author of the spice spoon: cooking without borders whose recent post on ‘the sad sideof food blogging’ picks on all these issues including the more serious one of what happens when entire ideas and concepts are copied. as i read the chef’s rant it occurred to me that what all of really want is respect for our creativity, and that respect isn’t the sole province of those with established names and celebrity status.

one of the things i enjoy most about food blogging is that there are some excellent writers out there and they all have different voices. i love that smittenkitchen writes like she’s thinking out loud. it’s almost as if you were sitting across from her and listening to her. shayma’s writing is poetic and makes me nostalgic for pakistani monsoons, steaming cups of tea and hot, flaky samosas dipped in a combination of mitchell’s ketchup and chili garlic sauce. i turn to heidi’s one o one cookbooks when i want recipes with simple write-ups. to me, her photography speaks more than the words. indian simmer’s prerna is a narrative of food memories brought to life with her beautiful vibrant pictures. as the daughter of a writer and craftswoman i am often confounded by the lack of respect that we have for each other’s creativity, but as a legal and human rights practitioner i am very alive to the fact that this is why society needs frameworks of principles and laws. left to our own devices, we are incapable of ethics.

in the time that it took to make and bake the granola, i realised that there isn’t really much one can do about this except speak and write about it. but it did make me realize that one has to be confident about their writing and work and cultivate acknowledgement of other people’s work where it has been used. and when that acknowledgement isn’t forthcoming remember that those who are aware of creativity and individuality will always admire such work. in that spirit, here’s to food fifty-two, nekisia davis’ and farmhand’s choice granola. thank you for inspiring my perfect granola.

i have a couple of notes on my perfect granola as my choice of sweeteners is quite different from the one’s nekisia uses. i recently came back from singapore where i bought gula melaka (coconut palm sugar). this sugar is essentially the sap of flower bud of the coconut tree. it is commonly used in malay desserts and i bought large coins of it at geyland serai market in singapore. the boiled sap is poured into bamboo tubes that allow it to set in a coin shape. the sugar has a distinct coconut smell and has a light caramel sweetness. along with this i used a himalayan honey so dark that it is almost black. this was also bought in singapore and tastes like a light molasses. the honey is necessary as its stickiness gives the granola a bit of character by allowing the oats to develop little clusters.

coins of gula melaka dissolving in olive oil & honey

m’s perfect granola

hundred grams gula melaka

hundred ml runny honey

hundred ml olive oil

one-tablespoon maldon sea salt

one and a half teaspoons ground cinnamon

seven hundred and fifty grams old fashioned rolled oats

one hundred grams sunflower seeds

two hundred grams pumpkin seeds

two hundred and fifty grams mixed nuts – i used almonds, walnuts, hazelnuts, pecan nuts, cashews and brazil nuts

two large roasting tins or baking sheets with rims

to start pre-heat the oven to a hundred and fifty degrees celsius.

combine the gula melaka, honey, olive oil, salt and cinnamon in a saucepan over low heat. this allows the gula melaka to dissolve easily.

place the oats, nuts and seeds in a large mixing bowl. once the mixture of oil, sweeteners, spice and salt is smooth pour it onto the oats and nuts. mix it well until combined ensuring that none of the oats are left uncoated.

divide evenly between the roasting tins/baking sheets and bake, stirring every ten to fifteen minutes for forty-five minutes. the granola will crisp further as it cools.

wait for it to cool fully before you store it in an airtight jar. according to nekisia this granola should keep for a month. a batch like this does not usually last beyond a fortnight at my place so i’ll have to trust her. my only reservation is that walnuts tend to go rancid rather quickly so i’d personally recommend that if you intend to keep your granola for a month, don’t use them. i used to add chewy things like chopped dates, apricots or raisins to granola but lately i’ve tended towards savoury-sweet granolas. if you prefer something sweeter then you can always up the amount of sweeteners and add some dried fruits.

the combination of gula melaka, honey and salt gives this granola a savoury sweetness. roasting the nuts and seeds together brings out their nuttiness. the colour of this batch is a brown-amber. my favourite way of eating this (aside from dry snacking) is to sprinkle it on greek yoghurt with some sliced fresh fruit. banana always works well, as do peaches and grated apples.    

avocado on sourdough, paprika egg and tomato jam

avocado on sourdough, paprika egg & tomato jam

breakfast, the first meal of the day is quite an important one at thirty-two. i think mama and babcia should be glad of the breakfast discipline they instilled in me. for aside from my late teens when eating and i had a relationship breakdown i have never gone breakfast-less. o is quite content eating cardboard flavoured bran flakes, which he says, keeps him going till lunch. i on the other hand much prefer my little tupperware of greek yoghurt with a sliced banana and a drizzle of honey. sometimes i’ll leave a tablespoon or two of oats to soften in yoghurt with a grated apple overnight. and i’ll sprinkle it with nuts before carrying it to work. i usually have a jar of homemade granola at hand to spruce up weekday breakfasts. i don’t see why one should content oneself with things that look and taste like cardboard just because it’s a weekday. on weekends o has particular favourites, which always involve eggs.

as of late i’ve been eating a lot of avocado on toast. i’ve found these baby hass avocado’s that are perfect for individual servings and so i decided to introduce o to one of my favourite combinations – eggs and avocado. i first had this combination in arizona and i know that it is very popular in california. american egg breakfasts invariably come with some kind of cheese and sour cream. i find that the buttery flesh of avocado needs to be treated with a little delicacy and this is where the australian’s have figured out the perfect combination. tori’s absolutely right when she says that sourdough, eggs and avocado are ‘the great rendering of a holy australian trinity’. i take no credit for this recipe as it is derived solely from porch and parlour (where i have never been) and tori herself. the little bit of me comes in the shape of a tangy stovetop tomato jam which i feel cuts through the richness of the avocado and the gentle protein of the egg. there is a generous pinch of kirmizi biber that ties the eggs, avocado and tomato jam together in a sweet-spicy heat. i rolled the egg in maldon salt and some smoked paprika as suggested by tori. the yolks should have been a little runnier but i missed the sound of the timer and luckily o wasn’t too fussed about it.

although this is a really simple breakfast, it is the quality of the ingredients that make it taste good. so get eggs that have sunflower yolks and a really good quality sourdough bread. i use clarence court eggs (both burford browns and legbars are excellent). make sure that your avocado is ripe and at room temperature as that helps bring out both its buttery and nutty flavours. drizzle your toasted sourdough with a good olive oil.

and don’t rush. this is the kind of breakfast that you take your time over.

if you still have space left over then you may want to tuck into  a sweet version of avocado on toast. i remember eating grilled avocado drizzled with honey in arizona once and often replicate it on toast. essentially, you take half an avocado, brush it with honey and put the cut side down on a grill. this was served with a side of meat. at home, i just take slices of avocado, place them on toasted bread and drizzle with runny honey or maple syrup. i usually make this when i make cornbread as its slight grittiness provides a lovely contrast. but it’s equally good on sourdough too. 

melrose and morgan, primrose hill

granola and bircher muesli, melrose and morgan

it’s ten am on a saturday morning. p and i are meeting for breakfast at melrose and morgan in primrose hill. i’ve been meaning to try this grocery shop-cum-kitchen for a while now and was actually really glad when p picked it over made in camden. i had fully intended to practice yoga that afternoon so wanted something lighter than a full-scale brunch. but my plans to practice got scuppered because the sun came out and we walked through ‘uniqlo square’. a coffee at sandwich and spoon turned into a long chat and then richard dare’s cook and kitchenware shop and mary’s living and giving shop waylaid us.

mary's living & giving shop

melrose and morgan has a tinted glass exterior that gives you somewhat of an idea of the groceries inside. a long table flanks the length of the shop. in the morning mostly sweet things dominate the display – meringues large and puffed like shirts with shoulder pads, a carrot cake thick with frosting and scattered with walnuts sits on a white cake stand and hot cross buns anointed with egg wash glisten lightly. i like that the crumble-topped muffins are cased in cut up grease paper rather than ready made cases.

melrose and morgan

meringues

carrot cake

p likes savoury pastry like things and so picked a sausage roll. i cannot resist a good granola and the one at melrose and morgan looked really good. it was nutty brown punctuated with whole almonds, seeds and sour cherries. i picked cold milk over yoghurt as i want to see how crisp the granola was. the milk turned pale amber as the granola lost its honeyed sweetness to it, but the oats remained resiliently crisp. i loved the honey caramel coat on the toasted almonds, pumpkin and sunflower seeds. the sour cherries were just the right balance of tartness against all the sweetened crunchy elements of the granola. if you like granola, this is one to add to your list of loved ones.

our breakfast turned out to be rather leisurely and we reluctantly vacated our seats by the window as we saw a father and son standing and eating. it was only fair though as we had been there for almost two hours. conversation was thick and fast and covered everything from women, the politics of equality in relationships, work place strife and the idiosyncrasies of the food blogging world. p and i have met our fair share of food bloggers for whom food blogging is about becoming so visible on the restaurant and bar circuit that they get invited to every opening. for the both of us, it is the food and the people we share it with that are more important. wander over to p’s writing at a table for one and you’ll see what i mean.