Need a flavorful #salad to share at your table? Toss one up with chickpeas and let this salad work like a meal.
Need a flavorful #salad to share at your table? Toss one up with chickpeas and let this salad work like a meal.
With your best extra virgin olive oil and a loaf of day-old crusty bread, add a few juicy tomatoes and toss up panzanella. Try this amazing and simple take on the Tuscan salad in my Cook On food column.
Street food in South Korea gives the study of culture through cuisine an intense reception. A deep red hot pepper paste, gochujang, serves as the fiery base of Korean specialties and the essential ingredient stocked throughout Korean kitchens may surprise the most daring global diners with a lesson in heat.
Gochujang adds sweet and spicy flavor to traditional Korean recipes and as Cold Spring’s Clayton Smith explores the land and language, he’s acquiring street food vocabulary and a love for fermented hot sauce.
Clayton is finishing up his junior year at SUNY Geneseo. He’s immersed not only in academics on a study abroad semester, but sampling Korean staples as any student might—from a stream of food trucks and snack carts along bustling South Korean streets.
While receiving exchange credit for coursework at Sogang University, the communication-digital media/journalism major enjoys studying Seoul’s urban food scene.
“Korean cuisine is definitely a perk of being here,” Clayton says. “ There are a lot of great options to choose from, and I find myself eating out a lot because often times the food is quite cheap.”
Korean barbecue, where dining patrons cook meat servings on table-top grills, remains a favorite. Clayton has sampled pork barbecue and he’s experienced Korea’s culture in bulgogi, thinly sliced tender beef marinated in a sweet soy sauce. Classic foods of the country along with global street fare like Turkish kebabs keep up nourishment, but he often orders tteokbokki or ddukboki [dock-bo-kee].
Clayton describes tteokbokki as stir-fried rice cakes prepared in spicy sauce.
“It’s definitely the most popular street food here, and I really enjoy it,” he said. “I’ve heard it described as the ‘the Korean mac and cheese,’ which might be a way to describe the popularity of the dish, but it is hardly comparable. The rice cakes are in the form of thick noodles, making for a really chewy, unusual texture.”
Hearing Clayton’s description of the spicy tteokbokki, I set out to make it. I asked my friend Sung, who puts a gourmet spin on Korean home cooking, to recommend a Korean food market. She sent me to wander among aisles of fine products at Woo-Ri Mart in Northvale, N.J. Not only did I come away with suggestions from supermarket employees on preparing tteokbokki, I even picked up a prepared serving of Clayton’s #1 street food served up at Woo-Ri Mart’s food court. The portion was so generous that I split it with my husband who loves Korean cooking (he lived in Korea before we were married). With every bite, I could appreciate the heat that Clayton savors in ultra spicy meals.
“From what I’ve seen, there is not a choice of sauces. There is one sauce that the dish is cooked in and most would agree that it is very hot,” Clayton said, “although I personally enjoy it.”
I requested help in replicating the sauce from the encouraging merchants at Woo-Ri Mart who directed me to a supply of gochujang. Knowing that the customary 3 kilos would be more than enough to spice up my sauce, I settled for 1 pound of the hot pepper paste packaged in bright red tubs. As I searched for the cylindrical rice cakes, a staffer also directed me to a selection of fish cakes used in tteokbokki, and suggested dried anchovies to flavor the cooking broth for the rice cakes. I opted out of the super-sized box of tiny briny fish and substituted an anchovy-based sauce.
Photo by Clayton Smith
The fishy addition helped cut the peppery pasty sauce and I served the tteokbokki with quail eggs, following Clayton’s recommendation. A cool egg calms a kick while spicy soaked rice cakes make tteokbokki a novel reprieve from typical American food snacks.
Clayton likes the hot flavor and chewy texture of the rice noodles because they’re so different from anything he’s ever eaten. Before returning to the Hudson Valley in July, he’ll take his curiosity and appetite to Thailand and Myanmar, but in the weeks ahead, he’ll practice his vocabulary ordering Korea’s best street food.
3 cups Korean rice cake sticks
3 cups water
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1/3 cup gochujang Korean hot pepper paste
½ teaspoon spicy hot pepper flakes
2 tablespoons sugar
1 pound fish cake strips
6 scallions, sliced
4 fresh quail eggs, hard-boiled
By Mary Ann Ebner, Cook On: 1 part chaos, 2 parts calm
For the past few weeks, it feels as if I’ve been camping out in my own kitchen. To acclimate a four-legged family member to our home, we gated off and puppy-proofed that room. We may come to regret the kitchen location, but it seems to make sense for the baby who needs easy access when heading outdoors on quick notice.
Already named “Denver” before he joined us, this puppy’s routine around the kitchen finds at least one of us playing with him, brushing his chocolate-brown coat, teaching him to sit with miniature milk bones, or bumping into each other while opening the refrigerator to search for treats for the trainers.
Now that Denver’s entertaining himself for longer stretches of time, he runs loose around the corner into the butler’s pantry—a safe puppy play environment with no carpets or butler to be found.
Denver, like our older dog Cammie, loves tiny pieces of raw carrot, which make great little training rewards for warm, furry creatures. A more mature pet now, Cammie trained with carrots starting at 8 weeks old and they remain her favorite puppy perk. It’s impossible to bring an orange bunch into the house without her waiting patiently in hopes that one will fall to the floor.
Though the carrots serve as rewards, tiny dabs of butter work well as diversions. When we were training Cammie, she wanted to nip at everyone, and we learned from a devoted dog lover to curb her mouthing and nipping habit with a slather of chilled butter. Within 48 hours, she received countless praises and stopped the nipping. We’re keeping the butter to a minimum with Denver, and he nips when seeking attention or alerting us to his needs. A little sweet creamy butter even helps prevent the rest of the household from nipping at each other, too.
When a cake appears around our place, we’re suddenly all on our best behavior. Just as with puppies, where behavioral experts advise to have a toy ready at all times, it could prove beneficial to have a slice of cake ready at all times for people. If there’s a stick or two of quality butter on hand, use them to make this dense cake-based crust that holds a gooey layer of cream cheese, butter and powdered sugar.
If you can call it traditional, original gooey butter cake may be made with basic staples stocked in home kitchens. Quality butter and cake flour are worth the extra effort of rounding up, though any will do to turn out a rich gooey butter cake. In St. Louis, where locals claim to have created the confection, commercial bakeries offer the cake laced with everything from chocolate chips to key lime. The recipe shared here resembles the original.
Gooey Butter Cake
1 cup sugar
2 cups flour
¼ teaspoon salt
1 ¼ teaspoons baking powder1 stick unsalted butter, melted
2 eggs, beaten
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups powdered sugar
¼ cup powdered sugar
Text and photos by Mary Ann Ebner, Cook On: 1 part chaos, 2 parts calm
First published by The Highlands Current
By Mary Ann Ebner
There’s something organic about bring-a-dish gatherings with few rules to pull people together for musings on more than food. We all know someone who cringes at the mention of a potluck. He or she may avoid edible uncertainty, but that’s part of the point. Bringing something you love can spark fresh perspectives for companions.
The starting point, at a minimum, should be a dish that can be served on a plate and eaten with basic utensils. Even without rules, it’s unlikely everyone will bring their signature dessert, but worse things can happen besides a table loaded with sweets. There’s usually a taste or two for everyone, with a range of gluten-free, vegan and carnivorous recipes.
Years ago, when I worked at a campus radio station, it was announced that the year-end party would be a potluck. The general manager and engineer were full-time employees, but the rest of us were students with limited cash flow. We spent little time or money on cooking, and when we dined out it was usually at the Stagger Inn over pitchers of beer and platters of potato skins. That was high-end nutrition compared to the microwavable sandwiches peddled from campus vending machines.
As potluck day rolled around, our lack of money and cooking experience didn’t stop us from covering a couple of desks with an assortment of contributions. At least three salads turned up, along with a fruit pie that was probably stocked from the freezer section, although its creator chose not to say.
The fruit pie was popular, but the most sampled dish was a bowl of blackberry Jell-O. It wasn’t spiked (or so we were told) or topped with whipped cream but represented the willingness to take part without making a fuss over ingredients and temperatures.
Shared meals not only spread the work around but bring communities together — the best payoff. Fresh spinach is a reliable crowd pleaser and does its work in simple or lavish recipes. This variation of spanakopita is essentially spinach pie made with phyllo sheets, which are easy to use but require quick work to prevent them from becoming brittle. If you find a few triangles left over, wrap them up. They’ll taste even better the next day.
Potluck Spinach Pie
3 cups ricotta cheese
1 cup Parmesan cheese, shredded
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups mushrooms, sliced
4 cloves garlic, diced
1 small red onion, chopped
3 to 4 bunches fresh spinach, trimmed
1 cup Italian parsley, chopped
1 cup roasted sunflower kernels
20 sheets phyllo pastry, thawed
3 tablespoons butter, melted
Lightly beat eggs with fork in mixing bowl, stir in ricotta and Parmesan, season with salt and pepper, set aside. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Sauté onion and garlic in 1 tablespoon olive oil. Add mushrooms. Cook over medium heat 2 minutes. Remove from heat and add to ricotta mixture.
Cook trimmed spinach in remaining olive oil until leaves wilt. Season with salt and pepper. Remove spinach from pan, drain and chop. Stir into ricotta mixture along with fresh parsley.
After all other ingredients are prepped, unroll phyllo sheets and cover with plastic wrap and a damp towel during assembly. Butter large baking pan and layer two sheets of phyllo dough over bottom of pan. Brush layer with butter and sprinkle with sunflower kernels. Repeat with three more layers. Spoon the spinach ricotta mixture over the top layer. Sprinkle with sunflower kernels. Cover with phyllo layer, brush with butter, sprinkle with sunflower seeds and repeat to use remainder of sheets. Brush top layer with butter. Using a serrated knife, cut into squares, then into triangles. Bake until golden, about 40 minutes.
First published at The Highlands Current
Cook On: 1 part chaos, 2 parts calm, text and photos by Mary Ann Ebner
Leonora Burton of The Country Goose in Cold Spring brought her own tastes from Wales to New York’s Hudson Valley, but she caters to a wide range of food preferences. Find your world market and explore culture through cooking.
Hamantaschen are three-cornered treats stuffed with many favorites—prune, apricot, poppy seed or cream cheese fillings. The traditional pastries of Purim, the Jewish holiday that celebrates the defeat of the villain Haman, taste great any time of year. Make hamantaschen and test a triangle or two before curious neighbors smell the delicious aroma and drop in with an appetite.