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Nov 15

Festival of Bites

Mithai make my teeth hurt and my tongue happy. I’ve always been a sucker for hyper pigmented foods, sweets in particular. But I’m more familiar with tiny S.E. Asian style snacks than these Indian counterparts. Where Malaysian/Singaporean kueh, Thai kanom and Vietnamese banh tend to be variations on glutinous rice, rice flour, coconut milk, agar-agar and mung beans (it’s amazing the mileage you can get out of small repertoire), mithai revolve around evaporated milk, ghee, chickpea flour, nuts and spices (often cardamom and saffron). Dairy definitely looms larger and creates a richness that coconut milk can’t.

I’ve come to know and love the fudgey-textured burfi (sometimes called barfi, but I prefer the more appetizing spelling) and syrup soaked galub jamun. The high sugar content isn’t what causes the tooth ache—my sweet tooth knows no bounds—it’s the sometimes used edible silver leaf that’s the culprit. I have the feeling that if these goodies were all whites and neutrals I would be less enamored of them than in their magenta and chartreuse glory. That is their beauty. Americans (of a certain type) tend to be down on the unnatural and artificial, but how do you argue with tradition? But then, I also like the fake green pistachio gelato better than the dull toned purist version.

There are quite a few places around the city to pick up some mithai. Sukhadia’s and Rajbhog are both chains, but there are also smaller shops and branches of these two biggies in neighborhoods like Jackson Heights and Richmond Hill, Queens (not to mention my new favorite New Jersey locale, Edison). Buying these gems is almost an old fashioned candy counter experience, they are tucked on trays in glass cases, come by the pound and are placed in a little box tied with string.

Having a limited knowledge of mithai, I only a vague idea what any particular item is since they’re not labeled or described in any fashion. And being NYC, there’s always a crowd around the counter so I feel pressured to move it along and pick and point quickly and without questions. But then, I’m overly sensitive to this sort of thing, holding up lines, looking dumb, when I see inquisitive, indecisive folks all the time.

I recently stopped by a storefront whose name I can’t recall on 74th St. in Jackson Heights. My interest had been rekindled while reading a recent New York Times article on mithai, but I waited until the weekend after Diwali to beat the holiday hordes. I indulged in the sweets pictured below, and I’m not sure how long six pieces are meant to last, but I purchased them Saturday afternoon and had eaten them all by Sunday evening. That’s exactly why I can’t have candy sitting around the house.

Mithai

Pista (pistachio) burfi and something Rajbhog calls sweet cutlet, though I suspect that’s not its proper name.

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Nov 11

Blue Mood

I swear I’m not obsessed with this crunchy new Trader Joe’s offering, but Monteblue & Populet fits one of my fixations. I hadn’t really thought of this blueberry infested caramel corn as blue food when I purchased it. The overall tone is golden, the dried berries a deep indigo that hardly registers as blue. I spent a Sunday intermittently picking at the sweet popped kernels, but forgot about my grazing by the time Monday kicked in. While performing some late night toothbrushing, rinsing and spitting, I became mildly alarmed by the baby blue froth sitting in the sink. Ah, the monteblue had left its fruity mark. It was a pretty shade really, like Roux Fanci-full rinse in Blue Mood (I used to use this on my bleached hair in high school, but it doesn’t seem to exist any more). Maybe the thought of hair products for the silver set isn’t appetizing to all, but I like the connection.

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Nov 11

Pepsi Re-Generation

Bluepepsihk_2  I was wowed enough to find 7-Elevens in S.E. Asia (and boy, are the combo meals a doozy) but I almost lost it when I saw a display of limited edition Pepsi Blue in one of the Hong Kong stores. As I’ve boringly reiterated countless times, I don’t even drink soda (I like chewing sugar, but gulping it in liquid form seems pointless) but I love me some blue food. I’m kind of sad that the early ‘00s crazy color food fad has died down, at least in America. Maybe Hong Kong will pick up the slack.

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Nov 9

Chicken Soup for the Office Worker’s Soul

I’m afraid I won’t be having my favorite lunch, chicken udon from Yagura on 41st St., for much longer. I sense a new job on the horizon (just a feeling—I don’t want to jinx anything) which will put me in a different part of midtown (really, I could do without midtown altogether). I suppose a new job is better than Japanese chicken noodle soup, but I’ll still miss my $4.88 plastic tub full from around the corner.

I don’t fully understand the whole umami concept, but I think this soup is rife with it. There’s an extra taste in there and it’s not simply salt. Supposedly, the konbu and bonito flakes which create dashi, the broth that is the basis for many Japanese soups, are an umami powerhouse when combined.

The noodles are fat and chewy and just filling enough. I’ve tried it with soba before, and while adequate, the overall effect was mealy and nibbly rather than teeth chompingly satisfying.

I would almost say the soup is healthy if it weren’t for the chicken. They include a handful of thick hacked up skin-on slices that I’m sure ooze fat all through the liquid. And the skin is browned and still crisp in parts, which implies that it hasn’t been stewed to death. That might be the clincher, the poultry is a separate entity and not a stock component either. Most chicken soups seem over cooked and dreary by comparison. I’ve never had any last long enough to refrigerate for later, but I’ve been curious if a white lardy layer would form atop the surface. There are some things you just don’t need to know.

Sometimes they forget to sprinkle the scallion slices on top, and you wouldn’t think it’d matter but it does. You need that tiny crisp onion contrast. I also keep a little bottle of Japanese chili powder in my drawer to spruce up the already flavorful soup. Three good shakes usually does the trick.

Udon_1

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Nov 1

Were Salads the Death of Dave Thomas?

Wendyssalad_2 Ok, McDonald’s BLT salad with grilled chicken is no match for the mighty Wendy’s Chicken BLT. It’s like forty cents more ($4.87 with tax) but sometimes you just have to say dammit I’m worth that extra half dollar. For one thing, it’s bigger. Where the McDonald’s version doesn’t always prevent 4pm hunger pangs from appearing, this version will hold you through early evening. There are probably equal amounts of “stuff” included (yeah, there's a lot of unnecessary cheese), the greens are just padded with extra lettuce, but that’s fine because who couldn’t use more roughage? And while some might prefer the diy ethic of McDonald’s whole breast, I like the mommy-fied chicken cubes because I’m working (or rather, internetting) while eating and knife work is too much to coordinate.

The only weirdo aspect is that the default dressing is honey mustard, one I’d never seek out on my own, but I just go with it. More disturbing is that sometimes they’ll give me regular and other times reduced fat. I’m sure it’s just carelessness, though I can’t help but imagine that the cashier’s decision to reduce my calories for me is intentional. Though I doubt they’d waste the time correcting the public’s eating habits, considering 95% of the line is ordering extra and super everything.

I’m fully aware that fast food salads are fat filled faux nutrition, but they’re nowhere near combo meal danger. If you eschew the croutons and use half the dressing, this salad is 450 calories and 30 grams of fat (21 grams for low fat dressing) which is high, I’ll admit (McDonald's version is 90 calories less with the same amount of fat). But a meal combo that no one ever would order because it’s the smallest of all choices, a Classic Single burger, medium fries and medium Coke is 1000 calories and 41 grams of fat. Of course you could just bypass Wendy’s altogether and simply eat a big plastic bowl filled with lettuce and nonfat vinaigrette, but that would be foul.

This brings me to an issue I’ve never understood. Maybe if I did I wouldn’t have a weight problem. I don’t frequent fast food joints that often, at least not until recently when I started my salad experiment. What has surprised me is that the customers are going whole hog, big burgers, large fries, giant sodas, but most are not obese. I see these same metabolic anomalies at the deli in the morning ordering egg, bacon and cheese on rolls like it’s nothing. Calories are no source of concern for them, yet if you watch depressing shows like The Biggest Loser or ever troll a Weight Watchers message board (which I wouldn’t recommend) you see folks agonizing over every minute fat and carbohydrate molecule.

Maybe the people in line at McDonald’s only eat there like once a month, or they eat super light, lean and balanced the rest of the day. I don’t know, but it’s baffling why and how some people can perpetually eat crap with no ill external effects while others eat broiled skinless chicken breasts and steamed vegetables and remain chunks (or lose weight, but can never ever touch fatty foods for eternity or they’ll blow right back up again). I don’t think it’s all a matter of good genes. A study should be done on average weight regular consumers of high fat processed food because I totally want to know what they’re doing that I’m not.

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