Homemade Ginger Ale

Soda. Pop. Cola. Diabetes-in-a-can. Whatever you call it, we all know what it is. Hyper-sweetened, carbonated, ice-cold liquid distraction, taking you away from your miserable life for just a few minutes before dropping you right back where you started, perhaps the worse for wear. Or maybe you're drinking diet soda, so you can have all of the kidney stones and same insulin shock without any of the last few shreds of natural ingredients in this type of beverage. But can't it be something more? Can't soda be something less sweet, more flavorful, and more wholesome, perhaps even with some alcohol, and where you don't feel guilty after drinking? Yes it can!

Try this homemade ginger ale recipe next time you're about to reach for a thirst quencher. Carbonation in this soda is achieved the old-fashioned way, and exactly the same way as beer - the sugars are fermented, creating carbon dioxide (and trace amounts of alcohol). It's the same for cola, ginger ale, sarsaparilla, root beer, or whatever voodoo tonic one might brew up. What you're left with is a ginger ale that's delicious and refreshing, not nearly as sweet as the store-bought version but surprisingly satisfying despite its less syrupy contents. All you need is some bread yeast, ginger, sugar, an empty 2 liter soda bottle, and a few days of patience, and you're in business. Just make sure to burp that bottle every once in a while after it's fermented, or it could bulge or even burst in your fridge or on your nicely cleaned floor.

Chinese Pork and Mustard Green Soup

In a lot of authentic Chinese restaurants, you might come across a pork and mustard greens soup. I tried it recently, figuring it would be exotic. It wasn't. Bland, floating in artificial chicken broth, the greens just looked up at me plaintively and forgotten, as if saying "is this how it all ends?"

To which I say "no." This is the day your life truly begins, mustard greens. Because I have scoured the far-off land of the internet in search of a better recipe that will avenge your death. A recipe with more than four ingredients, that might elevate our lowly mustard greens to something more satisfying, more vibrant, and certainly more memorable. I found it in Bon Appetit's coverage of this dish and, being the first recipe I had seen with more than a small handful of the most obvious ingredients, gave it a try.

What was produced was arguably one of the finest soups I have ever made. Light, simple, yet remarkably flavorful, this soup delivered an exotic aroma and a complexity that was almost surprising, given the speed with which it was produced and the simple ingredient list. I highly recommend seeking out a few key ingredients - true Sichuan peppercorns, half decent chicken broth, and fresh baby mustard greens, which can be found at farmer's markets around this time of year, and which deliver the appropriate amount of bitter tang and crunch that you won't get from spinach, kale, or any of the other soup-friendly greens. Go with a low-sodium chicken stock like Kitchen Basics, which I swear by, or make your own, which will be even better (and also even lower in sodium).


Chinese Spicy Pork and Mustard Green Soup
From Bon Appetit, Jan. 2014

• ½ pound ground pork
• 2 cloves garlic finely chopped
• 2 teaspoons finely grated peeled ginger
• 1 teaspoon Sichuan peppercorns, crushed
• ¾ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• ½ teaspoon cumin seeds, coarsely chopped
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 bunch mustard greens, torn (about 4 cups)
• 4 scallions, thinly sliced
• 2 tablespoons reduced-sodium soy sauce
• 1 teaspoon Thai fish sauce
• 8 oz. wide rice noodles
• 1/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar, for serving

Mix pork, garlic, ginger, Sichuan peppercorns, red pepper flakes, and cumin in a medium bowl. Heat oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add pork mixture; season with salt and pepper and cook, stirring and breaking up with a spoon, until browned and cooked through, 8–10 minutes.

Add broth and bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer until flavors meld, 8–10 minutes. Add mustard greens, scallions, soy sauce, and fish sauce and cook, stirring occasionally, until greens are tender, 5–8 minutes; season with salt and black pepper.

Meanwhile, cook noodles according to package directions; drain. Divide noodles among bowls and ladle soup over. Serve with a small bowl of rice vinegar tableside, possibly with Japanese togarashi seasoning as well if you want more kick.

Pork with Chinese Yellow Chives

Chives - let's talk about them. How many kinds of chives can you name? Is it one - the tiny ones that you buy in little plastic packs and put on baked potatoes? If so, then congratulations - you are officially an ignorant American, like me! As it turns out, there are multiple varieties of chives, and while surfing the internet I came across this recipe that looked like it would help me further unravel the Mystery of the Unnamed Produce that I usually encounter at the asian grocery store. My journey into madness learning about garlic chives spanned multiple weeks and was very informative, so I'd like to share, in the hopes that you, the hungry reader, can better jump into the world of proper produce selection.

These are the correct chives - gau choy (right), and gau wong (left)

First of all, I had to make this recipe twice. I was so excited about the prospect of buying "asian chives" (which isn't really a thing, they're actually called "garlic chives": Allium tuberosum) instead of American chives (which I will refer to as baked potato chives, or BP for short: Allium schoenoprasum), that I grabbed the first thing that looked like chives at the asian store and got the heck out of there. This led to a disappointing, bland dish, which gave me pause to do a bit of digging and discover that there are actually 3 kinds of Chinese / garlic chives you can get from the asian grocery store, all of which are from the same plant, and all are about 12 - 18" long packs of thin-stemmed green (or yellow) things:

1. Flowering chives (gau choy fa). These have a rounded base and the purple / green buds at the top, and look like a larger version of BP chives. Apparently they have much less flavor than the others.
2. Standard garlic chives (gau choy, kow choi, jiu cai, nira) are broad, flat leaves that are much more delicate than the flowering variety, and are much more edible as a plant when stir-fried quickly. Both of these have a very pronounced garlic flavor, though these are almost similar to ramps in their consistency.
3. Yellow chives (gau wong, jiu huang, kow won, "albino chives") are like white asparagus - grown without sunlight by heaping dirt on them, they don't develop chlorophyll, so they never turn green. They also are milder in flavor, and taste more like onions than potent garlic. They're also significantly more expensive - $15 / pound near me!

Let's look the other way about how I completely ignored the recipe the first time I made this, purchasing gau choy fa and hoping for magic, when all I ended up with was a plate of pork and tree stems. Instead, we'll focus on the second version of this dish, which ended up being a culinary rockstar - packed with garlic flavor and vibrant colors, yet inherently simple in its construction and very authentic in its rustic components.

These are flowering garlic chives. Not at all the correct chives, these were woody and bland

The incorrect version looks decent, but it's not what the recipe intended

Cumin Lamb Stir-Fry

My favorite Chinese restaurant in the area is owned by people from Chengdu, in the Szechuan province. It has opened my eyes to the variety in Chinese food, bringing in ingredients like homemade pickled bamboo, the increasingly present and always numbing Szechuan peppercorn, and the use of lamb, often with cumin. The first time I had lamb in a stir-fry was at P.F. Chang's, which shouldn't even really count, but it at least helped me realize that Chinese food shouldn't always just be about what sauce you want your chicken or beef swimming in. Savory, wild, and bursting with a rustic flavor that had nothing to do with General Tso or his counterparts, Pork Lo Mein and Wonton Soup, Chinese lamb dishes point out that there's something familiar and "country" about this part of China. So when I saw this cumin lamb stir-fry recipe on the NYT website, I was immediately ready to make it, and went out in search of lamb that same day.  

Naturally, this was a disaster. Somehow, despite watching Melissa Clark's video and following it verbatim, her magic did not translate into my kitchen. The resultant dish tasted almost right, but lacked body, and was a choking hazard when I just threw in a bunch of cilantro because it didn't call for chopping anything. So I had to modify the process to suit the average cook's home stove, which by no means can handle cooking a full pound of meat properly in one go. The second attempt was notably different, with properly seared and juicy lamb, and no choking hazards. It was every bit as good as food from the Szechuan restaurant, and if metering one's oil usage carefully, I would say it's probably more healthy as well. A definite win against the evils of professional recipes made in professional kitchens by people who can be snobby on a professional level.

Baby Kale Salad with Roasted Squash

This recipe is from the delicious New York City restaurant, Northern Spy.  I ate there a few years ago, and happened to notice that this random kale salad recipe pilfered from the internet was one of theirs. The salad did not disappoint, and made me miss spending time sampling the dishes of the excellent farm-to-table chefs in New York.  Crispy, crunchy, with a healthy dose of nuttiness from the roasted squash and toasted almonds, and tangy from the aged cheeses, this complex, filling salad was a huge hit at the dinner table, and could have held its own against the best made caesars or any of the roasted beet with goat cheese permutations.

I recommend you seek out baby kale for this salad, but if you can't find that try for one of the nicer kales mentioned in the recipe.  In a pinch, use regular kale, but blanch it for 60 seconds and then shock it in ice water to make it more palatable and bright.

Thai Bamboo Rice Salad

Strolling through a Whole Foods last year, I found a curious jar of green rice that I had never seen before.  Smelling faintly of jasmine rice but more earthy and perfumed, this curious infusion was known as bamboo rice.  This rice is apparently infused with the juice from young bamboo plants, giving it the vegetal notes as well as the green color.  We would have strolled on had we not found this recipe accompanying the rice, as we fortunately picked some up to try this out.

I highly recommend this rice salad, which was amazing as a side but could almost stand on its own if you were really avoiding protein for some reason.  Interestingly, I couldn't find this recipe on the Whole Foods website - it's some kind of mystery recipe that never appeared after I found the small card, so I'd like to post it here for all to see.

Thai Bamboo Rice Salad
Whole Foods

• 1 cup bamboo rice
• 1.5 cups coconut water
• Sea salt, to taste
• ¼ cup toasted unsweetened coconut
• 2 tbsp lime juice
• 2 tbsp seasoned rice vinegar
• ¼ cup peanut oil
• 4 green onions, sliced
• ¼ cup freshly torn mint
• ¼ cup freshly torn basil
• 1-2 tsp serrano chile, small dice
• Freshly ground black pepper
• ¼ cup chopped roasted peanuts
• 1 large cucumber, sliced into thin rounds

Combine rice with coconut water and a pinch of salt in a heavy-bottomed saucepan.  Bring to a boil over high heat, cover, reduce to a simmer and cook for 11-12 minutes.  Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes.  Fluff with a fork.  Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate to cool.

Preheat oven to 350 F.  Spread coconut on a baking sheet and bake for 4-5 minutes, stirring after 2 minutes, making sure it doesn’t burn.  Combine lime juice and vinegar in a bowl.  Whish in peanut oil.  When rice has cooled, combine with green onions, mint, basil and chile pepper.  Top with coconut and peanuts.  Serve on cucumber rounds, with a piece of fish if desired.