Damage

Hugh Achenson's post regarding that embarrassing episode, an excerpt:

“Bev, I just want to make sure that the whole thing is not too Asian, cause that’s not my style.” I think she’s had a bad Asian experience at P.F. Chang’s, the most authentic Asian she’s ever had. I thought these two would be like Gretzky/Messier, an unbeatable combo. They are more like ammonia and bleach, when combined they make everyone around them feel like crap.

Edward calls this how he and most of the chefs see it. He calls Heather a word that rhymes with b-itch.

WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING DAMAGE, HEATHER?

Peace the fuck out.  Toodle-loo.  I am going to just assume and pray that you did not succeed in the Last Chance Kitchen challenge.

Also, how fucking amazing is this: http://www.bravotv.com/watch-what-happens-live/season-5/hughs-eyebrow-challenge

How It's Been

Thanksgiving, Part Two

Thanksgiving, Part Two Morning After: Breakfast

The Ferry House, Princeton, NJ

Peeps Beetle in Union Square

Hump day breakfast at The Brownstone

Top Chef, DAMN

I almost regret my hate filled rant about Beverly because homegirl got shit on last night by another sucktastic cheftestant, Heather Terhune, during Judges' Table and I felt so gross about the whole thing, and I was just watching it on television!

DAMN, GIRLS!

Heather, you's nasty and petty.  Ick.  I hope you are eliminated, and this doesn't turn into Season Four, and you are the new Lisa.

Caramelized Onions and an early Christmas Present :)

Baohaus: Yum; Beverly: Ick

Let's talk about Top Chef before we get to Baohaus.  The first two episodes were pretty goddam impressive considering they were ELIMINATING people before they even had an official Elimination Challenge.  My ass was on the edge of the couch.  The chefs all had impressive sounding backgrounds, there was a dude who looked like a gentle cuddleable Rick Ross and a shit ton of Asian peeps representing.  Fast forward to however many episodes later, Rick Ross getting thrown under the boss for using frozen shrimp (damn!) and the challenges are all still great, but the chefs have no fucking personalities, there is no clear fan favorite (because they have no personalities), and the cliche "good looking one" is not good looking at all and says things that are funny because they are stupid, not because he is witty. 

Let's talk about yesterday's episode and how Beverly cried AGAIN (do we even need to talk about the fact that she straight up bawled at the rodeo because she missed sharing the experience with her husband?  Listen, I love Adam, but I would never be crying at a fucking rodeo over him, but whatever).  She also did something that will never put her in my good graces.  Our little friend Beverly used to idolize Edward Lee when she was growing up because it was the bomb to see a Korean American chef doing his thing, but the way she said the latter was in this sort of embarrassingly pathetic way, as if she thought she sounded dumb or silly saying it, as if she shouldn't say it, as if she was a fucking child.  What is so giggly about having pride in your people and fucking SAYING IT?

Ew.

This shit is straight up captioned "Beverly Kim Is Still Crying Top Chef." YEP.

Now moving on to more tasty treats.  Chris and I went to Baohaus a few weeks ago. 

adobo bao and haus bao?

chairman and uncle jesse.

And Chimpy the cat because he fucking rocks.

Turkey Stock, Part Two

My ass never feels more accomplished in the kitchen than when I make stock.

Turkey Stock

Making turkey stock on a Thursday night was a terrible idea.

Fuck, this week has been terrible.  And I have a cold!

http://yoisthisracist.com/

Anonymous asked: Is it racist that most of my favorite rappers are white?
Answer: Yo, that is just wack as hell, but you listen to whatever the fuck music you want.

Anonymous asked: Is it racist if I think it's unfair that black people have to do less work than me to get into Yale?
Answer: I don’t know, is it racist that the children of alumni have to do less work than anyone to get into Yale? Does it help if you know that Yale didn’t widely integrate until the 60’s?

It’s almost like, hold up, there’s a big-ass population of white kids who belong at that elite institution less than anyone. Weird.
Needless to say, fuck you and your racist and idiotic question.

And to tie it back to the main purpose of this blog....

kapowmonkey asked: enjoying some chicken tikka masala, racist?

Answer: Yo, I guess there's possibly some kind of imperialist problem with that, but on the main, shit is just right as hell.

AmAsian.

The frequency at which I meet self-hating Asian men blows my motherfucking mind.  

I never get close to befriending this:

A few weeks ago, an Asian woman, "jokingly" told me I wasn't Korean enough because I don't speak the language and then last night, an Asian boy (because his 24 year old ass was a boy, not a man) told me I was Really Asian because I was born to Asian Parents.  Listen, son, no matter who raised you and who you call Mom and Dad, all of us Asian ass peeps, were born to at least one partly Asian parent, no matter how European your yellow ass wishes you were.  My Asian parents don't make me any more Asian than your white ones, and the last time I checked, your ignorant ass most definitely doesn't gauge this.

It took me a long time to get to this point, to discover myself in the work that I've always wanted to do, and to find friends and people I cared about who GOT it and the last thing I am going to do is sit there and let an Asian Man Who Wishes He Were White tell me Iron Chef is ignorant and then make fun of Japanese tourists, say all Asian girls are crazy and that Asians have obsessions with knives.  We can't get a bit more creative than that? Asians and knives?  Can't we stick to the being bad drivers part?  Cripes, you suck. Once I got offended because my aunt told me that, no matter what, people were going to see me as a chink - and you know what?  Truth.  If you think I make "a big deal" or "rant" about it, you don't get it.  It's relevant because it happens, and it happens more often than you think.  It happens when I am in the fucking grocery store with my partner of five years, and while he put things on the conveyer belt and handed them to me, the cashier asked if we were together.  "No, he is just some bearded fucking stranger I found to help me lift up my heavy canned beans up from my basket." It happens when someone asked me if I spoke Mandarin, as if.... yes, all Asian people are One Size Fits all.  And even if I spoke Mandarin, why the fuck are you asking me, unless I am speaking Mandarin to your presumptuous ass?

You embarrass me, and you embarrass us.  And perhaps I am not supposed to judge my friends for being friends with these types of ignorant hillbillies, and they come in all shapes and sizes from of color to highly 'educated,' but I do and I will, especially when I am put into uncomfortable situations where I have to tolerate their idiocy in your presence.  Fuck you.  I respect you less, and that is the truth, because my integrity means more than your friendship.  You are the company you keep, and I can say 110% I do not keep your type of company.  

We all know Martha embraces her white ass self (New Jersey born, suck it), and I embrace her.  Stop the self-hatred, get better friends and get the fuck out of my face.

Birthday Girl.

Birthdays should be celebrated with people you love, who help bring joy to your life or make you feel happy to be alive when you fucking hate everything else and with food.

That being said, I have been able to celebrate my birthday at least four times with a number of people AND good food, and it still hasn't stopped.  Getting older always feels good.  Happy 28, y'all.

Mussels in white wine, shallot and garlic from Les Halles.  You know I can't speak French!  These tasted like the straight up OCEAN and amazingly plump and beautiful.  The table also ordered the Croutons de Coulommiers rotis au miel et poivre (what!) - bread topped with brie and honey and holy shit was it amazing.

Don't get me started on that crazy grill.  Also, look at the Korean face on my place mat.  Look at it!!

Adam said this was his favorite Korean restaurant yet, and I said he was crazy.  A Korean restaurant in Fairview, NJ.

Yes, please.

A pitcher of pepsi, a cup of chicken soup, three hot dogs, fries, mozz fries with gravy, and a chicken parm sandwich.

Raymond's in Montclair, NJ.

Tagliatelle with arugula pesto, topped with grilled chicken.  Meh.  Raymond's itself was amazing though.

Cauliflower soup

If there is one thing I can make pretty well, it's soup.  It is most definitely a soup.  No recipes, no frills, no bells, no whistles.  I can get it DONE.  One of my old co-workers was telling a dinner party soup gone wrong, and I kept thinking to myself, "HOW?!"

I picked up a gigantic head of yellow cauliflower two weeks ago (eep) and decided that it needed to be used immediately.  There is a 12 pound turkey defrosting in the fridge, and Adam and I have to eat almost everything in our freezer before Thanksgiving Part Two in December.  How the fuck else are we going to fit a 20+ pound turkey?  WHY DO WE ALREADY HAVE A TURKEY IN THERE?

Don't get me wrong, I love Thanksgiving, but really? We are going to brine this one though - so that will be exciting.  AND!  I will be able to make stock in advance from this.

Anyway, back to soup.  I grabbed The Flavor Bible to see what flavor combinations worked and ended up roasting the cauliflower with salt, pepper, crushed red pepper flakes and olive oil for 20 minutes.  I sauteed half an onion, a handful of scallions and garlic chunks.  I added the cauliflower after the onions had softened and poured in vegetable stock.  I let it come to a boil, let it simmer for a while, and then pureed 3/4 of it in the glorious Cuisinart, after contemplating using the immersion blender.  Listen, I don't have a dishwasher, and these are a LOT of dishes for a Monday night soup.

I seasoned the soup with more salt, pepper, crushed red pepper and some squeezes of lemon.

DELISH.

Served with a side of panko baked chicken.  Baked, breaded chicken is never as good as fried chicken, regardless of how good it still tastes.

----

This is what it looks like the day after.  I can't get the coloring right, but it's a buttery, golden yellow.

Thanksgiving Part Two: 2011

Last year Adam and I hosted Thanksgiving for seven people, including ourselves.  It was pretty epic and nerve-wracking - for me, not him.   This year, I decided to double the invitation, assuming the majority of friends would not be able to make it. My my how schedules change and open up once food is involved.  How for the love of god am I supposed to host 15 people Thanksgiving dinner in December, without a dining room, without more than one oven, and keep everything warm enough to still be tasty?

I have been feeling icky about the whole thing since the initial 'save the date' email went out, because of obvious panic, but then I saw these dudes on the Cooking Channel last night and got all excited:

There is nothing like the smell of Thanksgiving in a home, and there was no greater culinary accomplishment than roasting a gigantic ass turkey and making number of sides for a handful of my friends.  SHIT SMELT LIKE SWEET SUCCESS.

Am I right, or am I right?

Paint

So, I have to pick a paint color for my office.  This is something I have never done before, and I am terrified of the outcome.  They are not testing the paint, and what I pick is what I will get, and that is the hue I will have to look at every day until... the end of time.

Lemon Souffle
Banan-appeal
Pineapple Grove
Popcorn Kernel
Squish-Squash
Fresh Butter
Banana Cream
Oatmeal
Almond Bisque

This must be how some people feel about Essie nail polish shades.

Did y'all say blizzard?

Shit was crazy yesterday.  I headed across town to take care of some tailoring and stopped in the Korean owned bodega for some kimchi.  I swear that kimchi used to be $1.50, but it was not, it was $2.50.  What!  I also noticed some soybean sprouts and got a craving for some kongnamul, which I have never tried to make before. I thought about the flavor profile, to guestimate what I had at home to make it (and my fridge is BLEAK these days because of the world's worst diet) and all I thought was garlic and salt.

According to Maangchi and my mother, all you need are the sprouts, a little bit of soy, salt, sugar, gochugaru (pepper flakes), sesame oil, sesame seeds, garlic and scallions.  The only thing I did not have were the scallions, and my sesame seeds were not toasted so I did not mess with that either.  

The only real variation between Maangchi's recipe and my mother's (please, homegirl does not use recipes!) was to put the sprouts in AFTER the water had boiled.  I didn't use the recipe, just tasted/tested and it turned out pretty good.  I won't lie, I almost ate the entire bag after just boiling it in some salted water, that's how good I thought it tasted plain.

Adam and I went to Ruth's Chris later in the evening, during the epic Halloween Snowstorm (WHAT THE FUCK?) and I kept telling him I did not want to die in the car on the way there.  We sat at the bar for the first hour to get our cocktail on and two martini's later, we are seated at the rose petal love table.

Do you know why I tell restaurants it's a special occasion?  Because it means free dessert, and you know I can't say no to anything free! We ended up ordering the creme brulee though.  Ugh, ridiculous. So good.

I fucking love Ruth's Chris, and for a really good steak, it is not crazy expensive.  The dinner tab - a petite filet and t-bone both medium rare (perfectly cooked), two sides (sauteed mushrooms and mashed potatoes), a martini and dessert only totalled to $130.  Our drink tab was $50!  Again, worth it.  The best steaks I have ever had.

Peter Luger, we shall meet when my tooth is yanked.

Also, there was some crazy convention going on at the hotel inside which Ruth's Chris is located.  Before we figured out what kind of convention it was, I thought it was some sort of 'alternative' event - way too many mullets, overweight dudes, and people wearing leather.  A bunch of super blonde ladies are seated at the window table, and then this redhead shows up.

Angie Everhart! Does no one remember the epic love duo of Angie Everhart and Sylvester Stallone?  I contemplated going into the conference after pulling up the epic list of "celebrities" - PAM GRIER?  The guy from Revenge of the Nerds? The ENTIRE cast of the original Willy Wonka?! That lady from Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead who does all of SueEllen's QED reports?!?!  Dear god, that would have made an already epic anniversary even more crazy.

This is what it looked like when we left:

 This is what it started looking like when we came home:

ANNIVERSARY MEAL(s)

Adam never reads this blog, but Adam, I love you.  Happy five years.  You are my favorite person in the entire world, and the only person who I have given this much of myself to - the good, the bad and the ugly.  I love you.

Tonight: Chinese food.  TAKE OUT, PLEASE!

Tomorrow night: Ruth's Chris.  STEAK, PLEASE!

GOIN' OFF

Chosun bowl with tofu and veggies.

Giving a fuck about anything and using the word fuck to describe said passion apparently always means you are "goin' off" and that shit makes me ill, but maybe it shouldn't.  I'd rather you think I was unabashedly committed to what I said than let you think I didn't care, because I do. To act is to be committed, and to be committed is to be in danger. That commitment and that danger comes in all forms, but I am committed.  Always have been, always will be.  For real.

So that being said, I hope the rest of you give a fuck when someone tries to negate who you are as a person based on some ignorant whack stereotypes in a situation that is not even remotely funny.  And I will use fuck as often and as frequently as I want and in any fashion I want - like my lunch on Monday was fucking delicious, except for the extra ripe cucumber kimchi.

Pucker up, shit is gonna get SOUR.

Korean, American.

( FYI - posted 10/26 on Eddie Huang's blog. )

Someone, a woman of color, recently questioned my "Korean-ness."  It wasn't funny because of the context and because I don't fucking know her.

Who determined the Authentic Asian scale and where does it tip?  More importantly, who the fuck needs to play these games?  So you are more {insert color/race/ethnicity} because you grew up in whatever your motherland is, speak the language, understand the language, can name every dish on every menu, and know the folklore? So despite the fact that you live here, speak English and embrace these cultures, you are not that American (read: have not yet been whitewashed), and because I was born and raised in suburban New Jersey, have lived only on the East Coast (ahem the best one),  and am terrible at speaking other languages, I am not really all that Korean (read: I must be white!).

My face, my family, and my heritage, which is as much mine, as it is yours, don't really matter, because again, not all that Korean in the first place.  That's the joke, right?  That's what's funny?

I hesitate saying this because I don't know if it's completely true, but at this age, this stage in my life, I have a hard time identifying with people, especially women of color, who do not identify with themselves - whatever themselves mean.  If you question how 'womanly' you are or how 'of color' you are, that you don't feel "girly enough" or "Asian enough," I DO NOT FUCKING RELATE TO YOU. Because if you don't get that you can be any kind of woman and still be a fucking woman and if you don't get that your non-white identity is not based on some ridiculous, socially constructed and reinforced authenticity scale, you will NOT get me, and I sure as fuck won't get you.  I'm not ten years old, unsure and confused about what I see in the mirror.

My name is Jennifer, I'm a woman and I'm Korean American.  Nothing about that is up for discussion or debate, so fuck you and suck on that. You don't determine my story or my relevancy.

On that note, my Korean mother and I went to Queens this weekend to visit my Korean grandmother.

BLING BLING! in Palisades Park, NJ

 New York Kimchi is most definitely not the best selection for everyone :(

Kum Gang San in Flushing

Look at how big this whisk is and how my mom is the most beautiful woman in the world.