Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Bánh Mì with Lemongrass Tofu
Makes 2 sandwiches
2 (8-inch) baguettes
Do chua (pickles)
1 cup julienned daikon
1 cup julienned carrots
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup white vinegar
1 cup water
6 to 8 ounces extra firm tofu (half a standard package)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon sesame oil
2 bulbs lemongrass, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon finely chopped cilantro
Optional: Maggi seasoning sauce or soy sauce
Additional fillings and garnishes
1 medium cucumber, sliced lengthwise
1 or 2 jalapeño peppers, sliced
Small handful cilantro
For the do chua (pickles)
In a large bowl, combine sugar, salt, vinegar, and water. Add daikon and carrots and toss. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour. Drain completely before using. (Note: The measurements given are guidelines; feel free to adjust the sugar, vinegar, or salt to your own taste.)
For the tofu
Cut tofu into 1/4-inch thick slices and press between clean kitchen towels or paper towels to rid of excess water. In a shallow dish, combine soy sauce, vegetable oil, sesame oil, lemongrass, and garlic. Place tofu in dish, gently coat slices with marinade, and arrange so they overlap as little as possible. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour. Cook in a skillet over medium heat until brown and crisp on each side.
For the spread
In a small bowl, combine mayonnaise and cilantro. Add Maggi or soy sauce to taste, if desired.
Slice baguettes lengthwise, leaving one side as a hinge. Spread mayonnaise on top and bottom halves. Arrange fillings and garnishes: cucumber, do chua, tofu, jalapeño, cilantro.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
just continue clicking to the next sections as you read.
"People always talk about the gaping hole left by a lover's absence, the emptiness that they never even knew about until someone came along and filled it. Why doesn't anyone ever guess the truth? That emptiness wasn't there before. It was carved into you by a lover who knew no other way to find a home except to lodge somewhere inside of you, pushing other things out of the way to make room. Maybe you helped them, shoving kidneys down and lungs up, saying "Don't worry, honey, I can breathe fine!" Maybe you did it together, each of you making nests inside your hearts with feathers pulled from your breast; tiny, warm places, bald spots on your chests.
I used to think that after you died you would get to see yourself through the eyes of everyone you had ever interacted with, and that depending on your behavior this could be heaven or hell.
Imagine how beautiful you are in the eyes of each of your lovers, and how entirely different."