Mary Helen

Vegetarian and vegan cooking has come an awfully long way over the past 20+ years.  Thanks to the internet, we've been able to integrate the best vegetarian dishes from the whole wide world into our everyday lives, opening up a vast menu beyond vegetable mush.  We have noodles, curries, grain burgers, kale, QUINOA!  It's a breeze being a vegetarian in 2012, let me tell you.

Even our cook books are getting better.  I have a lot of respect and admiration for the classics.  Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone and The New Moosewood Cookbook are standards, and any cook can benefit from their wisdom, but modern vegetarians are itching to keep up with the rest of today's food culture.  We want dishes that excite the palate, and peak our curiosity.  That's where writers like Michael Natkin come in.  Michael is what I'd describe as an avid vegetarian.  He doesn't just cook veggies to sustain his existence, he's an eater.  He likes to explore new flavors and experiment.  His book, Herbivoracious, and his blog of the same name, are a great example of modern vegetarian cooking.  Within its pages you can find re-invented versions of both comfort food, and cultural dishes. Dishes like Triple Smokey Mac n' Cheese, Risotto Balls, and Indian Fry Bread Tacos offer up rich, hearty meals for stick-to-your-ribs, good eatin'.  You'll also find dishes inspired by ethnic cuisines.  Chana Chaat with Pappadams, Red Pozole, and Iraqi-Jewish Eggplant Sandwiches are a few examples of the diverse cultural dishes you'll find inside Herbivoracious.  Then there are the totally unique recipes which come straight from Michael's imagination.  I'm incredibly curious to try Shitake Tacos with Asian Pear Slaw, for example, or Caramelized Apple and Bleu Cheese Crostinis.  There is even a dessert section, for you sweet toothed cooks, which includes tempting recipes like Stout Chocolate Malts, Mango Puffs, and Sephardic Doughnuts.  

The challenge of modern vegetarian cooking is to create meals that are so good you forget about meat all together.  You want to make something that people will want to eat more than a burger, that they'll talk about, dream about, and come back for.  Here in Austin, vegetarian dishes aren't just a footnote on the menu.  In most places, you can find several vegetarian or vegan dishes that compete for attention with their meaty neighbors.  When you focus on whole foods, bold flavors, and pleasant textures, you can make vegetables sing as loudly as meats.  Michael Natkin's recipes in Herbivoracious do just that.  The book is a great example of how far vegetarian cooking has come. 

I attended a demo hosted by Michael recently at The National Epicurean Academy here in Austin.  During the talk, Michael discussed his inspirations, his approach to cooking, and the journey from blogger to author that so many of us dream about.  He prepared three recipes from his book: Green Mango Salad, Banh Mi Bites, and Crispy Vietnamese Crepes.  All three recipes were dishes that I would eat without ever missing meat.  The thing is, they aren't just vegetarian recipes.  They are great recipes that happen to be vegetarian, and that is where modern vegetarian cooking has made it's biggest step.  Instead of cooking around what's missing, and trying to make up for the absence of meat, we're celebrating the vegetables, making something special from what is present. 

Michael made a great point in his talk about flavor profiles.  Creating a strong, and complete palette of flavors in a dish is the key to making it satisfying.  This is true for any style of cooking, but in vegetarian cooking it is especially important, as you have less "cheats" to rely on.  Meat eaters can always add bacon when in doubt, but vegetarians must be a little more creative.  Vegan cooking leaves almost nothing to cheat with, eliminating cheese, cream, and butter.  Creating great plant based recipes relies heavily on knowing which ingredients will provide the flavors of fat, acid, sweetness, salt, astringency, and umami.  If you can fit all six flavors into one dish, it is very likely to leave you full and happy.  

We'll talk more about which ingredients do all this in my next post.  For now, I'd like to congratulate, Madna, the winner of my Herbivoracious giveaway!  Thank you to everyone who took the time to enter, and to leave a comment!  This has been a great discussion so far.

Disclaimer: This post contains a sponsored Amazon link to Herbivoracious that helps support Mary Makes Dinner. Purchases resulting in clicks result in my earning a teeny tiny comission. This isn't a plug, just a necessary clarification via the latest FCC blogging guidelines.

Here's a part of vegetarian history that you newer generations were thankfully spared, the faux meat obsession.  In the beginning, this stuff was only available in specialty health food stores, daring Chinese restaurants, and on the West Coast.  My Dad would pack his suitcase with "cold cuts" and mystery proteins every time he returned from the Pacific.  Being dumb kids, and Dad worshippers besides, we willingly ate anything and everything that came out of his magical luggage.  Our Mom was more suspicious.  

While my Father piled mile high vegetarian Dagwoods with foul smelling sheets of tofu film, my Mother looked toward pasta.  We called her famous (infamous?) dish "vegetable mush".  It was an ever changing concoction of vegetables, tomatoes, and white beans cooked in a pan until mushy, then plopped over pasta.  In hindsight, Mom totally wins in both the common sense and decent flavor categories, but there are only so many plates of vegetable mush that one can eat before getting a little desperate for something more interesting.  My Dad's faux food and tofu dishes weren't necessarily good, but they were different!

Modern day faux-meats, far fancier than the stone age tofu films of my youth. Photo by BunchofPants

Let me just clarify that these faux meats came about a decade or so before Chick' Patties or Boca Burgers.  Faux meat then is NOT faux meat now.  Personally, I think that the majority of modern faux meat is still a little gross, so just imagine how bad old school faux meat was.  (Tofutti, anyone?)  This stuff was foul.  It was often gray or brown, but usually gray.  The flavor was best described as salty and mysterious.  The aroma was worse: chemical, damp, and oddly camphorous.  It was bad.  In fact, it was hella-bad, but we were good sports, and because we loved our Dad, and fuzzy little animals, we wanted to like it.  Ultimately, our love affair with mystery protein was put to a swift death by Thanksgiving 1991.  

In what sounded like a brilliant idea at the time, my Dad brought home 20 pounds of faux turkey cold cuts with the intention of building a roast turkey for our holiday meal.  We watched with sheer fascination and hero-worship as our Father molded the stuff into a roast-like shape, rubbed it with salt, pepper, herbs, and spices, and slid it into the oven, (with a little vegetable stock for basting).  We thought he was a genius.  That is, until the "roast" began to cook.  As the mound of mystery food heated up, the "flavor" drained from the solid matter and pooled into the bottom of the roasting pan.  It evaporated in the heat of the oven, and the house was fumegated with the bizarre stench of artificial flavor.  Never was there a scent so unnapealing.  

Years later Tofurkey went on the market, so I guess he was on to something. Photo by MStephens7

Most people would have given up on it at this point, but not my Dad.  He tried to make soup out of it! The idea was to try and get the flavor back into the "meat" by stewing it together in a big pot.  By this point his loyal fans had abandoned him.  I think my sister, Heather, might have been the only one willing to taste the second turkey experiment, probably more out of kindness than curiosity.  Needless to say, the soup was not very good. 

Years later, Boca Burgers and Morningstar brand Chick Patties came out, renewing my family's fascination with faux meats.  After a good ten years of being vegetarian, we thought they tasted mighty fine.  While I still enjoy Gardenburgers and homemade veggie burgers, I no longer indulge in mystery proteins.  It occurred  to me some time ago that faux meats were the epitome of processed food.  A quick look at the ingredient list on a pack of Grillers will leave you scratching your head.  

Photo by Frozen Food Journal

These days, vegetarian cooking tends to focus on plants, and thank goodness.  Plants taste good!  Though I do eat meat now and then, the majority of my diet remains ovo-lacto vegetarian, and I'm thankful for the movement toward whole food cooking, more for vegetarian cooking than for anything else.  It has delivered us from the dark ages of meat worship.  

Rather than obsessing over the lack of meat in a dish, modern vegetarian cooking encourages us to focus on the presence of the vegetables.  Plants can taste quite good, and they deserve to play the leading role in a recipe.  Too often are veggies treated as low rate understudies when they should be the star of the show!

For example, Austin is home to countless varieties of vegan tacos.  You can find them stuffed with setian, tofu, and tempeh, all respectable proteins, to be sure.  But my favorite vegan taco, called the Papadulce, is a savory combination of sweet potato, poblano peppers, and crunchy pumpkin seeds.  To me, it's genius, and a perfect example of modern vegetarian cooking at its best.

All hail Taco Deli's Papadulce Taco. Photo by Scisssorina

In this little taco you'll find vegetables, proteins, and healthy fats.  More to the point, you'll find every element needed to create a satisfying flavor profile, which is the key to creating really delicious vegetarian dishes.  The sweet potatoes provide a sugary flavor, while the pepitas add salt and fat.  The poblanos provide heat and acidity.  A dash of salsa will lend astringency, while the balance of sweetness and saltiness throughout the recipe achieves umami, the most important flavor of all.  

Finally, the dish has to contain interesting textures and beautiful colors.  In Chinese cooking, a great emphasis is made on how fun the dish is to eat.  That couldn't be more important when it comes to vegetarian cooking.   Noone wants to bite into a big gray pile of mush.

These basic principles of flavor and texture are what make the difference between a vegetarian dish that is satisfying and enjoyable, and one that feels "meatless".  A bad habit of vegetarian home cooking is to try and fill that meatless void with protein.  While you do need some protein, no amount of bean, tofu, or faux meat will make up for missing flavors.  Vegetarian proteins don't often match the flavor profiles of meats, so they can't be swapped without adjusting other flavors in your dish.

Which leads me again to the giveaway accompanying this series.  These principles of vegetarian cooking were discussed during Michael Natkin's recent visit to Austin and the Naural Epicurean Academy.  Michael talked about how important flavor profiles are to vegetarian dishes, and had some brilliant suggestions for vegetarian sources of umami.  We'll get into those a little more in next week's post.  For now, the giveaway! 

To enter to win a free copy of Michael's vegetarian cookbook, Herbivoracious, courtesy of Harvard Common Press and Michael's blog, Herbivoracious.com, use the fancy widget below.  The winner will be alerted via email when the contest ends.  Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Disclaimer: This post contains a sponsored Amazon link to Herbivoracious that helps support Mary Makes Dinner. Purchases resulting in clicks result in my earning a teeny tiny comission. This isn't a plug, just a necessary clarification via the latest FCC blogging guidelines.

In honor of Mother's Day I thought it might be nice to write something to do with my Mom.  I've talked about her on the blog before, so by now you might know that she grew up in Maine, and that she is currently living in Switzerland.  

Here's something about my Mom that maybe you didn't know.  She is a big kid.  Syndi McNally is sharp as a tack, with a mind for mechanics, and an almost effortless capacity for creativity.  But in addition to her natural intelligence, she posesses a sort of child like innocence.  She sees, and assumes the best in other people, in animals, even in inanimate plant life.  I've seen her scold a plant, encourage a dog, and negotiate with a baby.  She wears her heart on her sleeve.  She giggles.  She pouts.  She stomps her feet when she's mad, and she bats her eyelashes when she's happy.  Syndi McNally is just what she seems, a warm, funny, gifted person who looks at the world in her own way.  

And she is REALLY good at eating lobster.  If there is something edible in there, she is getting it out.  My Mom eats lobsters the way I imagine a mermaid would.  She sucks on the legs and picks through the ribs.  She nibbles between its brains, and cracks open its flukes.  My Mom knows that the secret meats are the tastiest, and thanks to her, my sisters and I know how to get to them too.

Here's an old photo of my Mom with Caity, my littlest sister, getting down to business.

First of all, don't go broiling your lobsters.  Unless you are dealing with a 3+ pound beast of a lobster you can't beat boiling when it comes to a cook method.  Small lobsters will dry out and turn rubbery when they are broiled.  Boil it, not too much.  Got it?

Next, you'll want to serve that red hot oceanic cockroach up with some melted, salted butter and a side of crusty bread.  Some people go with french fries, but that's not my favorite.  You can use the bread to sop up the delicious lobster juices, and it makes a great vessel for the tomalley.  What's tomalley, you ask?  That is the savory, green gob of lobster pate located in the beast's underbelly.  It's kind of weird, but also kind of amazing.

Want to jazz things up a little?  Pour yourself a cup of champagne to go along with the melted butter.  Try dipping your lobster in the champagne, before you dip it in the butter.  This will blow your mind.

Also, while I'm doling out Maine-centric lobster advice, you'll want to boil your lobsters in salted water, over an outdoor fire pit during the Summer.  Gather your friends and family together to go dutch on a pile of lobsters, corn on the cob, and clams.  Boil it all over the fire, and drink cold beer while you wait to eat.  Apart from this being one of the best ways to spend a summer afternoon, it's also the primo time of year for cheap, tasty Maine lobsters.
Coolers filled with lobsters, beers, and clams.  Signs of paradise. 

Now that the stage has been set, we can move on to eating the lobster!  You can begin with either the tail or the claws, which one doesn't much matter.  To remove the tail, uncurl it, then lift it back toward the head until it snaps.  Pull back the tail flukes, and snap them off next.  Unless your lobster is super tiny or overcooked, there should be some very tasty meat inside each fluke.  Crack them open and find out.  You may need to suck the meat out with your mouth.  This is good practice for the legs.  Pop your thumb through the bottom of the tail shell and push on the meat inside.  The meat should pop out of the base of the tail.  Before eating the tail meat, remove the vein.  There should be a black vein running down the center of the top of the tail meat.  It will probably be under a thin flap of meat.  Pull that off, then pull off and discard the vein.  Eat the tail with butter and champagne.

The claws can be snapped off of the body in the same manner that the tail was.  To get at the meat inside the claw, you'll need to crack it open.  If the lobster has a soft shell, just do it by hand.  If it is a hard shell lobster, you'll need to use a cracker tool.  Pull out the meat and nom away.  There is also plenty of meat inside the claw knuckles.  Snap each knuckle off of its joint, and use a tiny fork to poke out the meat inside.  This is arguably some of the tastiest meat on the whole lobster.

At this point, after having eaten the tail and claws, most people chuck the lobster.  That is very, very stupid, not to mention wasteful. There is loads of meat in the body!  To get to it, start by snapping off the skinny little lobster legs.  Each leg is full of meat.  Break the legs at their joints, and suck the meat out.  You might have to use your teeth to chew on the legs and push the meat out.  It's worth the effort though.  Those little meaty legs are tasty!

Now pull the shell off of the body.  This is very easy, and almost not worth explaining.  Basically, just hold onto the underbelly with one hand, and pry off the top (red part) with the other hand.  Now you'll be facing a very weird looking pile of lobster stuff.  If you see green stuff, congratulations!  You are the proud owner of lobster tomalley.  Tomalley ranges in taste from OK to heavenly, depending on the sweetness and flavor of your lobster.  If the rest of your lobster was really good, you can expect the tomalley to be fantastic.  Eat it just like a dip.  Spreading it on your crusty bread, or smothering your french fries in it are two excellent ways to enjoy tomalley.  If you see a rubbery pile of red pellets, you've found lobster roe.  Roe is an aquired taste, but some people love it.  Give it a try.  If you don't like it, set it aside, and offer it to your fellow lobster eaters.  There may be a roe lover at the table.

Underneath the roe and tomalley, you'll find a series of gills and ribs.  Hidden inside these inedible parts is a treasure trove of super sweet, tender lobster meat.  Getting at this meat involves a lot of picking and prying.  Take your time, and savor every tiny nibble.  If you have a decent sized lobster, you'll find some similar meat in the head.  Poke around and see what you find. If it is not chewy, you can, and should eat it.

At this point you have thoroughly annihilated your lobster.  Way to go!  Before you discard the shells, however, consider saving them to make some stock!  A delightful fume can be created by combining your lobster shells with some leeks, celery, and fennel.  Put them all in a big pot and cover with cold water.  Bring the liquid to a simmer, but not a boil, and leave it at that heat, barely bubbling for 1 - 2 hours.  Strain, and enjoy.  The fume can be used to make soups and sauces.  

Now that you are armed with genuine Maine lobster eating skills, I encourage you to order lobster in a restaurant and eat it this way.  Freaking out the nearby tables just makes the experience better, and more authentic.  Mainers often freak other people out. 

A little over twenty years ago, my Dad came home from a trip to Seattle and announced his vegetarianism.  My Mother, a die-hard Mainer, born and raised on fish, meat and potatoes, was baffled, and perhaps a little bit furious.  After all, she had a spare freezer stocked to the brim with red meat from our latest American Frozen Foods delivery.  Being used to my Dad's unbridled enthusiasm, she simply shook her head, and gathered round with us kids as my Father explained his reasoning.  

He told a story of kindness, humanity, and tofu.  Inspired by his recent fascination with Buddhism, and the advent of Star Trek's Next Generation series, my Dad had come to the conclusion that mankind had reached a point in its development where it was ready to move past eating animals.  When he tasted faux meat for the first time, it gave him the courage to make the leap from veg-curious to ovo-lacto vegetarian.  Though we were not forced to go along for the ride, it was only a matter of days before each of my sisters, and I, decided to become vegetarians too.  

My Dad, dressed as Eco-Bear, a character of his own imagination, created to bring environmental awareness to the world, one Memorial Day parade at a time. 

Being a vegetarian back then was a real challenge, especially for kids.  Even though we grew up in the Northeast, in a fairly liberal, supposedly progressive area just outside New York City, eyes grew wide, and air sucked through front teeth whenever my sisters or I proclaimed our dietary lifestyle choice.  People couldn't wrap their heads around why anyone would choose to be a vegetarian.  They didn't get it, so they didn't respect it.  Our parents were constantly met with arguments, judgement, and sometimes flat-out denial.  To most people, raising vegetarian kids was crazy.  Others actually saw it as morally wrong.  

Other kids' parents would try to coerce us, guilt us, but most often just trick us.  They would sneak meat into our food.  They would lie to us, telling us that we were eating tofu when we were really eating meat.  What they didn't realize was that after a child goes more than a year or so (everyone differing of course) without eating meat, the re-introduction can make them sick.  I can't tell you the number of sleepovers I spent doubled over with stomach pains or running to the toilet.  People just didn't get it, and when I warned them that meat made me sick they wouldn't believe me.  They thought they knew better than I did, and better than my parents did.  What they hoped to accomplish with their culinary espionage, I can't say.  I can only guess that their intentions were good, that they thought they were saving us from our crazy parents.  They must have been convinced that we were being starved and neglected.  Or perhaps they thought that if we tasted a White Castle burger, just once, we could be saved from the hell fires of our vegetarian lifestyle. 

Of course, there were not many vegetarian kids at school.  My Mom packed our lunches every day, besides Friday, which was pizza day.  Other than my sisters, the only other vegetarian kid I knew was a Hindu boy named Nicket.  He and I stuck together, allied by our differences, for all the good that did us.  We were teased mercilessly over our "weird" lunches, and interrogated constantly about the details of our unimaginable lives.  Though being teased is never nice, it was a lot nicer with someone else.

Nicket was able to answer a good 90% of questions with "it's against my religion".  I envied him for that.  If only my parents would declare us Buddhists or Hindus, at least I could dodge a portion of the torture.  But, alas, my folks were hippies to the core, and stood fast by their decision to let their kids find their own way when it came to spiritual mysteries.  (For that, I was labeled a Satan worshipper by my fellow liberal, progressive NYC suburbanites.  But that's a story for another time.)

Just look at us, a bunch of satan worshipping vegetarian hippie delinquents.  

I remained a faithful ovo-lacto vegetarian, and a fierce defender of the lifestyle throughout my school years, and into my early twenties.  When I was 21, I did take a short break from being a vegetarian after the drunken discovery of chicken fingers.  My younger sister, Heather, and I were somewhere well past tipsy that New Year's Eve.  When we stopped at a diner, post-party, our friends began to coax and dare us, as usual, to eat some meat.  I'm not sure which of us decided that it would be a good idea, but somehow or another a plate of chicken tenders made its way in front of us.  Together, we ventured into the unknown, and found it to be delicious. After spending more than half our lives as vegetarians we did not remember what chicken tasted like.  Our minds were blown, and it became very hard to resist the temptation of meat.

Heather never looked back.  She was the first of us to stray from the fold, and before too long she was happily chowing down on steaks and burgers.  I had a short love affair with poultry, bacon, and hot dogs, but after a few months of experimentation, the guilt of it all drove me right back into the arms of my beloved vegetables.  However, I was never as strict again.  After my affair with omnivorousness, I would taste different meats and poultry whenever I could, mostly out of curiosity, partly because I really did like it.  Years later, when my husband and I moved to China, I gave up on being a vegetarian all together.  At the time I believed it to be a temporary choice, for the sake of convenience and cultural experience, but when I came back home and enrolled in cooking school that gave me another reason to continue eating meat.  

These days, I still eat meat, but sparingly.  I try to live a vegetarian lifestyle at home.  You won't find meat in most of our meals, but when we go out, I do eat meat here and there.  It's hard to resist in Austin, but more and more often the morals of my youth call me back.  I think, in my heart, I don't want to eat meat, and at this point it has become more of a bad habit than an exploration.  I am constantly cutting back, but perhaps it's time to get more serious about my lifestyle. 

As for the rest of my family, my parents went back to carnivorousness about two years ago.  I'm not sure whether it was a big decision, or just something that they slipped into after watching the rest of us fall out of habit.  After 20 years on veggies they are on a high meat, low carb, gluten free diet, and seem to be enjoying every minute of it.  Our youngest sister, Caity, who had actually been raised from a baby as a vegetarian now dabbles in pork and poultry, but still can't stomach beef.  Most of us, even the purest, have fallen off, except for one.

My older sister, Sarah, wins the prize for longest, most faithful vegetarian.  She's gone in and out of being vegan over the years, but has never, not once to my knowledge, eaten meat or poultry.  Sarah is the longest running vegetarian in our pack, and for that she deserves a round of applause.  As for the rest of us, we live somewhere in the gray, between who we were, and who we'll be next.

To accompany my series of posts on Vegetarian Cooking, Then & Now, I'm giving away a copy of Michael Natkin's new book, Herbivoracious.  I met Michael while he was promoting the book in Austin, and he gave me and a bunch of other happy food bloggers a free copy to check out.  He even signed them with a bit of good advice.  

I'll be discussing the book more in a later post, but for now I will just tell you that it rocks.  It's a great example of modern vegetarian cooking, filled with recipes that will please omnivores just as well as vegetarians.  If you've never visited Michael's blog, definitely check it out.  You can find tons of really creative vegetarian recipes there.  To enter to win a free copy of his book, courtesy of Harvard Common Press and Herbivoracious, use the fancy widget below.  The winner will be alerted via email when the contest ends.  Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Disclaimer: This post contains a sponsored Amazon link to Herbivoracious that helps support Mary Makes Dinner. Purchases resulting in clicks result in my earning a teeny tiny comission. This isn't a plug, just a necessary clarification via the latest FCC blogging guidelines.

Resolving to do things in January is so over done.  Rather than ponder the whole year, let's set some goals for the Summer. I've peppered this list with links to blogs I've been crushing on lately.  Click away, and have fun exploring.

1. Take more photos.  I haven't been snapping as much as I should lately, and it leaves me feeling all wimpy and jealous when I visit blogs like this one... or this one.
2. Draw more.  I have a back log of food illustrations locked inside my imagination, and if they don't get out soon, they'll rot my brain.  
3. Record three more songs to make a demo, and play open mic every other week.  A modest goal, to be sure, but making music a priority, rather than a mindless habit takes more commitment than you may think.  We tinker, we titter, and we play, but we haven't been working very hard. 
4. Post all the recipes I've made over the last few months.  After becoming distracted by Chef Hangout, I forgot to actually write about and post the recipes I'd been working on.  I have some really good stuff too.  Noodles, dumplings, ice cream!
5. Kick ass at my job.  I'm good at what I do, but I could do even better.  Time to challenge myself. 
6. Pickle everything.  I took a class with lovely hip girl, Kate Payne on the subject and now I think I am obsessed.  So far, I've pickled two batches of carrots and one batch of beets.  Strawberries and cucumbers are next.  Oh baby.
7. Stay cool.  I plan on keeping my temperature low and my spirits high this Summer.  Stress, I invite you to bugger off.  I'm gonna be like this guy...

Frat Cat Chaz hopes that you'll have a rad summer. 

Have you ever had a banh mi sandwich?  Imagine a crusty baguette stuffed with sweet and sour pickles, spicy jalapenos, and cool, crisp cucumber and cilantro, dressed with sweet and spicy sauces.  Crammed inside that heavenly hoagie you'll find a tasty protein, such as pork, chicken, shrimp, or tofu.  Every bite is a wonderland of flavor and texture that will make you wonder how on Earth you lived without this miracle food.  

At least that's what happened when I ate my first Banh Mi.  It wasn't all that long ago that I discovered this little gem.  I had heard of them, naturally, but until recently the Banh Mi had lived in my imagination exclusively.  Now that I've had a taste of the real thing, I can't get enough.  Banh Mi haunts my dreams, stalks my lunch hour, and lures me with her sweet and spicy siren's song.

When a food arrests your sensibilities to such an extreme degree it leaves you with little choice but to start making it at home.  Apart from the pickles, this is a pretty straight forward sandwich that can be assembled without much fuss.  I like the pickles so much that I keep a jar in my fridge, but you can make them in small batches too.  Whatever strikes your fancy.  

The basics of a Banh Mi are:

French Bread:  Get something long, skinny, and crusty.  Slice it halfway through, then pry it open.  I like to warm mine in the oven for a few minutes before assembly.  To mix things up:

• Try using gluten free, vegan, or low carb breads.
• Create banh mi pizzas on naan or flatbread.
• Banh mi tacos would be pretty rad!  Try stuffing a tortilla instead of a baguette.

Condiments:  Banh Mis are great with a little mayo.  You can use plain egg or vegan mayo, but I prefer using a flavored mayo instead.  Other condiments that can enhance your Banh Mi are: peanut butter, hoisin sauce, tonkatsu sauce, or vinnaigrettes.

• Spicy Mayo = 1 teaspoon Siracha + 4 tablespoons mayo
• Garlic Mayo = 1 teaspoon garlic powder + 4 tablespoons mayo
• Tomato Mayo = 1 sun dried tomato, minced + 4 tablespoons mayo
• Sour Plum Balsamic = 1 teaspoon umeboshi paste + 1 teaspoon ketchup + 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar + 1 tablespoon olive oil
• Miso Honey Mustard = 1 tablespoon honey + 1 tablespoon miso + 1 tablespoon mustard + 1 tablespoon champagne vinegar + 1 tablespoon olive oil

Protein:  Classically, Banh Mi is topped with pork, but there are endless variations available at Banh Mi restaurants, and even more options in your home kitchen.  

• Meats: pulled pork, sliced pork, ham, roast beef, meatballs
• Poultry (roasted, ground, sliced, smoked, fried): chicken, duck, quail, eggs
• Seafood: shrimp, salmon, soft shell crab, crab meat, lobster meat, tilapia
• Vegetarian / Vegan: tofu, smoked tofu, tempeh, seitan, mushrooms

Pickles:  In my opinion, the best part of a Banh Mi is the hefty portion of pickle.  This simple brine is classically used to quick pickle carrots and radishes, but there's no reason you can't get more creative with your homemade Banh Mi.  Try using this brine to quick pickle beets, squash, kohlrabi, broccoli, cabbage, apples, pears, strawberries, or peppers.

• Brine = 1/2 cup rice vinegar + 1/4 cup water, 2 tablespoons sugar + 1 teaspoon salt + 1 whole star anise (Bring to a boil and pour over sliced or shredded fruits and veggies.) Make a larger batch with this recipe from Banh Mi Battle.

Toppings:  At the very least, make sure that you have some fresh, sliced cucumbers and jalapenos, and a handful of fresh cilantro.  These fresh, crispy toppings are really nice in contrast to the pickles, and bread.  They give the sandwich a very Vietnamese feel.  In addition to the basic toppings, try including different types of herbs and peppers.  Swapping the cilantro for tarragon, basil, dill or mint will change the sandwich's flavor wildly.  If you can't handle the heat, or just prefer a sweet pepper, try trading the jalapeno for bell pepper.  Poblano, fresno, or serrano would keep the sandwich spicy while adding a different flavor. 

So, how do you banh mi?  Are there any crazy twists on the conventional sandwich that you'd like to share?  Hit me up with a comment!  If you want to explore even more banh mi possibilities, including details on how to prepare traditional meats and fillings, visit Banh Mi Battle, a site dedicated to the possibilities of banh mi!

Hello my darling internet!  I hope that you all are having a lovely Spring, and that you enjoyed your respective Spring holidays.  Though I am not personally religiously affiliated, my family comes from a Catholic and Christian background, so they celebrate Easter every year.  I participate, happily.  Easter has always been a favorite holiday for me.  I love the colors, the shapes, and the spirit of joy and renewal that surrounds the festivities.  Pastel pinks, greens and yellows make me giddy.  It's an extent of girliness that I never could have imagined enjoying when I was younger.  I was always a tom boy or a punk rocker.  Then Me would probably cringe to see the state of Current Me, surrounded in white fluffy kittens, pink mermaid quilts, and walls full of butterflies.  I'm not exactly sure when the transformation began, but at some point I transformed from embodying Halloween to Easter.  Can't say I'm bummed about it though, there are chocolate bunnies over here.

There are also carrots.  Loads of gorgeous, twisty, farm fresh carrots, in a varragated palette of reds, oranges, and yellows.  Carrots have been delivered in my CSA for months now, and though I try my best to root out more and more carrot recipes (get it? heh heh) I seem to be perpetually living under the weight of a carrot surplus.  Not the worst fate, by far, but it was another reason to welcome the advent of Easter this year. 

While chatting with my sister about this year's an idea occurred to me.  "Whoah!", I said. "I should make carrot ice cream!"

"Duh", says my sister.  "Of course you should make that."

So I did.

And after I made it, I decided to put it into a pie, then cover it with whipped cream.  The ice cream itself was a real wonder, something I was especially proud of nailing on the first shot.  I roasted carrots with maple syrup and nutmeg, then pureed them into a smooth paste.  That paste was added to a milk custard base that I had infused with cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla bean.  The result was a smooth, creamy, gently spiced ice cream with tiny little bits if minced carrot.  The texture was toothsome, but not at all gritty, much like carrot cake!  

Like my Strawberry Ice Cream Pie, I used a Momofuku Corn Cookie for the crust, and topped the pie with fresh whipped cream.  In the center of the pie I placed a baby carrot, soley for the purpose of enhancing its cute factor.  

I would whole heartedly reccomend this ice cream to anyone who likes carrot cake.  In or out of the pie crust it is totally delicious.  It is mildly sweet, and incredibly creamy, just yummy.

Corn Cookie Crust (ala Lucky Peach Magazine)

• 2 - 4 Corn Cookies (recipe)
• 1 - 2 tablespoons melted butter 
• 1 pinch salt

Directions

Crumble the cookies into a food processer, along with a little melted butter.  Pulse until the cookies crumb up into mostly even chunks.  Spray your pie pan with a little non-stick, or grease it with some butter.  Press the cookie mixture into the pan, doing your best to spread the crust evenly.  If you need more crust, just pulse some more cookies. 

Carrot Ice Cream

Ingredients

• 8 ounces carrots, chopped
• 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons maple syrup, separated
• 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1/8 cup grapefruit or lemon juice
• 1 1/2 cups cream, separated
• 1 1/2 cups milk
• 2/3 cups sugar
• 2 tablespoons cornstarch
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 2 cubes crystalized ginger
• 1/2 vanilla bean
• 2 ounces cream cheese
• pinch salt
• 1/8 teaspoon cinnamon powder
• 1/8 teaspoon ginger powder

Directions

Roast the carrots with 1/4 cup maple syrup and 1/8 teaspoon of nutmeg in a 375 degree oven for 20 - 40 minutes, or until fork tender.  Allow them to cool enough to handle them, then put them into a blender or food processer with the grapefruit juice.  Blend until the mixture becomes very smooth, then add 1/4 cup cream and blend again.  Store this mixture in the fridge until later.

Combine the cornstarch with a few tablespoons of milk in a small bowl and set aside.  In a large saucepan, combine the remaining milk and cream with the sugar.  Mix together, then add the cinnamon stick, ginger cubes, and vanilla bean.  Bring to a simmer over medium heat.  Allow to simmer for 4 minutes, then remove from heat.  Whisk in the cornstarch slurry, then return to the heat.  Simmer for one minute.  Remove the solids from the milk mixture.  

Put the cream cheese and salt into a large, heat proof bowl.  Slowly whisk in the hot milk mixture, allowing the cheese to fully blend before adding the rest of the milk.  Next, whisk in the cinnamon and ginger powders, then the carrot mixture.  Blend the ingredients completely, then transfer them to a ziplock bag.  Dip the bag into a bowl of ice water, and agitate until the mixture reaches room temperature.  Quickly transfer the mixture to the refigerator, and chill for several hours.

Churn according to your machine's instructions.  When the ice cream has finished churning, you can pack it into a quart container, or into a pie crust!  Freeze until hardened (about 2 - 4 hours) before eating.  If you've made a pie, you can put whipped cream on it at this point, and freeze it for another hour. 

In addition to Carrot Ice Cream Pie, we had a huge spread of other Easter treats.  My folks brought some chocolates from Switzerland, my sisters made French Toast, Lemon Buns, and Ginger Cookies.  I also made a savory hash from eggs, greens, and potatoes.  It was a brunch fit for a king!

I'm pleased as pop to announce another giveaway for another of my ChefHangout.com workshops.  I'm giving away two seats in my upcoming Asian Dumpling Workshop on April 22.  This intensive workshop will teach you:

• How to make dumpling wrappers from scratch.
• How to create a delicious and authentic pork filling.
• How to stuff and fold dumplings like a real Beijinger!
• How to make a Chinese style cold salad with handmade dressing.

This is a three hour workshop that runs from 2:00pm to 5:00pm CST on April 22.  Visit ChefHangout.com for more details on the class, and on how Chef Hangouts work.  

New to Chef Hangouts?  All you need is an internet connection and a web cam to participate.  We will cook together live, in a totally interactive video chat setting.  It is a lot of fun, and a great way to pick up new skills in the kitchen!

Want to win a free seat in the class?  There are three ways to win:

1. Leave a comment on this post. (Be sure to include an email where I can reach you if you win.)
2. Sign up for my newsletter.
3. Spread the word about this giveaway on Facebook, Twitter, and/or Google+. (Leave a comment here to let me know that you shared it.)

I'll pick two random winners from the entries on Thursday, April 19, then announce the winners!  Good luck.  I hope to see you in class!

Winners have been notified! 

My dear hubby, Scott Bobleo, had his birthday earlier this week.  As usual, he requested a special treat be made to celebrate.  He indicated that, specifically, he wanted something "super yummy that HE likes, not something weird that I might like".  OK.  Got it.  

I went with a classic ice cream in his favorite flavor, strawberries, but instead of making a cake, I made a pie.

The crust was made from Momofuku Corn Cookies.  These sweet, salty, crunchy cookies were perfect for this.  I got the idea from Lucky Peach Issue 2, my newest culinary/literary crush.  If you are a food geek, you've got to get your hands on that magazine.  It's a blast, full of kooky recipes and ultra-hip food obsession articles.  

The crust was filled with Roasted Strawberry & Buttermilk Ice Cream from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home, but you could probably use any old strawberry ice cream, homemade or not, and still have a glorious desset.  I topped the frozen pie with whipped cream and three cute little maraschino cherries.

To say that he liked it would be a lie.  The man loves this pie in a way that makes me almost jealous.  When he comes home from work he heads straight to the freezer.  I don't even get a kiss hello before he's reunited with his girlfriend, the pie.

He's still got quite a few slices left, then he's all mine again.