Chop a medium yellow onion fine, put it in a bowl, sprinkle over a teaspoon of salt, a teaspoon of paprika, and 1/4 to one teaspoon of cayenne pepper, depending on your tolerance for heat. Squeeze half a lemon over it, stir, and stick in the fridge for a couple of hours. Stir once in a while. (The salt will sweat additional liquid out of the onion.)
Congratulations! You’ve just made that fucking delicious onion relish every Indian restaurant serves on the side, and you could never tell what went into it!
Scoop it into a simple meal of dal and rice; spoon it onto a curry that isn’t spicy enough…hell, put it on a grilled steak! It’s magic!
Miang kham mostly consists of raw fresh
Piper sarmentosum (Thai: ชะพลู; rtgs: Cha phlu) [wild betel] leaves
or
Erythrina fusca (Thai: ทองหลาง; rtgs: Thong lang) [purple coraltree] leaves
that are filled with
roasted coconut shavings
and the following main ingredients chopped or cut into small pieces:
Shallots
Fresh red or green bird’s eye chili peppers
Ginger
Garlic
Lime (Citrus aurantifolia), including the peel
Water
Chopped unsalted peanuts or cashew nuts
Small dried shrimps
Sour green mango
My mouth is watering now. I’ve not had Miang kham for several years. :o Maybe I’ll make a special trip to the provincial waterside market where I used to buy it freshly made…
Here’s my contribution and I will share the recipe for liberal BS pie.
2 Table spoons salt
4 tea spoons liberal tears
3 liberal race cards, seared and shredded
8 ounces of organic liberal kale, picked by illegal aliens
1/2 stick melted liberal lies
3/4 cup of creamy liberal hubris
1/3 cup of brown sugar (brown sugar only, white sugar is racist)
2 Table spoons flour
1/2 cup unsweetened flaky liberal coconut
Put in oven and cook for 57 minutes, one minute for each US state, in honor of Obama.
I think you’d want the delicate meat flavor of such a rare treat to come through on that, so I’d stick with a Dalmatian rub: just equal parts salt and pepper. You really don’t want to smother the delicate flavor under a mountain of spices. Keep it simple.
A double heaping handful of pecans, recently denuded. A veteran, trustworthy frying pan, butter. Lavish the butter into the pan, set to a sleepy simmer. Sling 'em in there! Begin stirring. Keep stirring, light a smoke, take a toke, crack open a beer, get back to stirring. If you can’t stir for twenty minutes as carefully as you might bathe a baby, get out of the way. You are not worthy.
You fry pecans like you boil a frog, so subtly that it never knows the difference.
Edit out the ones that darken too quickly, pluck if bold and adroit, spoon if timid and clumsy. Sample ever once in a while, crunching for the perfect interlude of crispy out, cooked through. A meagre sprinkling of salt, a guilty dusting with powdered sugar. Set aside and await the proper moment to introduce them, after the crowd has thinned out a bit. Praise is sweet, more is sweeter, but a bigger share of harvest is best. The kids are restless, they should go outside and play. Run laps. Whatever.
(It is true that there are “pecan” trees in Georgia, but the true pecanista knows that only central Texas, the “heart of Texas” has the precise combination of soil, temperature, humidity and a surrounding population at least 40% Baptist.)
I’ve written about it before, but this is a perfect place to repeat it. Here’s my take on the pasta sauce we’re told how to prepare in The Godfather:
28 oz can diced tomatoes
Good dollop of olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, crushed
13 oz can tomato paste
1 teaspoon basil
1 teaspoon oregano
1 lb sausage meat
Good dollop of red wine (but not that good a dollop; you need some wine to drink with your meal)
1 tablespoon sugar
Put the olive oil and sausage meat in a skillet over a medium heat. While that’s cooking, put all the other ingredients in a slow cooker on “low” setting. When the meat is cooked, drain the oil off and add the meat to the other ingredients in the slow cooker. Let everything cook there for at least four hours, stirring occasionally.
You’re gonna make a pasta sauce that your guests cannot refuse.
Mallorca is a WONDERFUL restaurant. The waitstaff were amazing and the food was beyond compare. My friends took me out to celebrate my engagement there and my (now) husband and I celebrated so many happy occasions at that place.
You didn’t say what temperature. I am afraid that if I am too conservative, my pie may end up being bland.
Anyway, no one has shared a guac recipe yet?
Here’s mine, though it’s a bit non-traditional, and I don’t believe in exact measurements.
Fruit from 2 avocados, roughly mashed up, leaving just a little bit of definable pulp.
A quarter of a tomato (or really what’s left over after slicing for sandwiches or burgers) roughly chopped
1/4 onion rough chop (use the rest of the onion for slices on your burger or sandwich.)
Maybe about 2 ounces of jalapenos, preferably from a jar, chopped fairly finely.
A liberal dash of white pepper.
A splash of the juice from the jar of jalapenos.
Salt to taste.
Needs a little lime juice and a little garlic powder to my tastes. I also make mine with onion powder since the wife doesn’t lie the texture of onions. But otherwise there is nothing wrong (and a whole lot right) with that recipe.
2 1/2 cups shelled fresh green peas
1 small shallot, peeled and thinly sliced
1 small leek, cleaned, white part only, thinly sliced
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup shredded fresh mint leaves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Pour the peas into the water and cook for no more than 2 minutes. Drain and immediately plunge the peas into a bowl of ice water. Drain and pat dry with a towel. Puree ½ cup of the peas in a blender.
Place the peas, pea puree, shallot and leek in a medium, nonreactive bowl and toss gently to combine.
Add the lemon zest and juice, olive oil and mint. Season to taste with salt and pepper and toss gently until the vegetables are coated. Serve immediately.
The first lady of food did a lot to try to help the nation’s kids eat a healthier diet despite the best efforts of alt-right trolls.
Fortunately all her healthy recipes and all the other content from her “Let’s Move” initiative can be found at the Obama White House web archive.
“Zest” is an ingredient? Well, if she says so, it is. My enthusiasm for her is boundless, I would be honored to include her restraining order in my collection.
At the risk that I’m being whooshed, zest is the very outer portion of the lemon (lime, orange, whatever) rind. You grate it off the rind, being very careful not to go too deep.
