Recovery - Eggs in Baskets

For someone whose life revolves around work and karate, it shouldn't be surprising that weekends are suddenly gone, three out of five workdays involve at least an hour and a half in heavy So-Cal traffic, and sleep is almost nonexistent. Training for my career and extra training for karate drain the life out of me like forgetting to water an orchid. All this running around has me cobbling together meals from bits, pieces and leftovers, seemingly perpetually scrambling for extra calories so that I don't faint during (or after!) a bazillion two-hour class of intense karate. Luckily, I've finally found some time today, a blue moon free half-weekend, to put pan to stove and eat!

It seems fitting that my first post back from, well, the past six months, should be something a little more simple and typical of what I'm really eating these days. I had a post about candied citrus (!) almost ready to go, then it languished for 3 months. Which means, if you think about it, I've been wanting to come back and procrastinating on this for a full 3 months.

Meep.

So, what did I do in the last six months? Not necessarily in chronological order:

- Graduate with my master's (shamefully "mastering out" of a PhD program, as they say)
- Find a job (!)
- Get a raise (!!)
- Start a program that will culminate in my parts inspection certification
- Spin my somewhat blue-collar job into an internship and recovery period from grad school
- Move more south in Southern California, within walking distance of said job
- Split the purchases of significant pieces of furniture for the apartment
- Make shodan (1st degree black belt!!!) in shotokan karate
- Get really, really, really physiologically drunk from a single shot (same day)
- Drive/ride (I carpool) over 1,400 miles on the way to and from karate
- Start the instructor training program in the AJKA-I organization (karate)
- Teach a 40-kid karate class by myself (with assistance from a lovely brown belt friend)
- Karate crisis! AKA why our karate dojo (school) has so few women
- Stay up until ???am in the morning talking with my friend and forever karate idol
- Recover from karate crisis (thanks to said friend and karate idol!)
- Pay first deposit toward the karate trip to Japan I'll be taking in September (!!!)
- Start taking proper care of my face (Korean skincare!)
- Learn more about skin chemistry and ingredients than I ever needed, but I love it
- Get my boyfriend into wearing sunscreen everyday (he'll be pretty forever <3)
- Help a friend write several academic papers/applications/letters
- Speak three languages at work
- Start investigating new jobs... one that actually uses my engineering degree...!

All of this means that my kitchen adventures are less ice cream cakes (story for another time...) and more simple, sustaining food like this, an Egg in a Hole. I'm told they go by many names, but as my personal history consists more of rice and scrambled eggs than fanciful fried egg dishes, I'll leave those English names to the experts... those who grew up in English-speaking countries with English-speaking parents ;)

And here we go!

Egg in a Basket
Egg-strapolated from Wikipedia

Ingredients (scale up as desired!) for 1 Egg in a Basket
1 egg
1 slice of bread
Butter
Cooking oil (I like the big olive one from Costco. Huge, reasonably priced, and tasty)
Salt (optional)
Pepper (optional)

Directions:

1. With either a cookie cutter or a knife, cut a hole in the slice/s of bread. I like round holes, but if you prefer corners, then who am I to deny?

2. In a frying pan, add about a teaspoon of oil and around the same amount of butter. Fry the slice/s of bread on one side. You're going to have to flip these slices, so leave a bit of extra space.

3. Add a bit of oil or butter to the hole/s in the middle of the toast. With the toasted side up, crack an egg into the hole of each toast. Allow to cook for at least 30 seconds, or until the egg whites have set.

4. Sprinkle salt and pepper if desired. With a spatula, lift up each egg in the hole, add a touch more oil or butter, and flip the toasts. Now it gets a bit interesting: controlling whether your yolks are runny. I like them so, but my boyfriend prefers medium-cooked eggs. About 30 seconds more will get you said runny yolks, and about 1 minute will cook them about medium. The more oil/butter you add, the earlier you can get away with removing the eggs.

5. Plate and serve! Enjoy!

Postscript: Yes, of course I fried the little bread cut-outs afterward to make butter toast :)

Update: Almost done with this post, I smelled something oddly toasty. I went to the kitchen to find that while I was writing, my rice on the stove had totally burned to a pretty, speckled, black/toasted beige/silver/white pattern. Good job, Asian-American food blogger.

Heaps - Pasta with Artichoke Hearts

Past midnight and not quite finished with my presentation slides, due tomorrow (now today, I suppose), of course. It is quickly gearing up to be one of those weeks that seem to heap upon you until you yourself dissolve into a heap, but it could be much worse. Yes, my adviser shot instructions and advice like a firehose at my labmate and me on Monday, but it means we have a clear direction for a while. Yes, I have logistics to carefully time, plan and diplomatically carry out, but it is because I just became the captain of the collegiate karate team. Yes, I have a hard set of challenge questions opening on Thursday, closing on Sunday, overlapping that pumpkin holiday, but it means I am one step closer to an incredible opportunity to learn about data science.

This heap means that time to buy and cook food has been short. Luckily, I still have frozen artichoke hearts from Trader Joe's (probably my favorite item, outside of those amazing, huge chocolate bars). With the flour, olive oil, salt and pepper perpetually stocked in my cupboard, and some eggs and milk brought over by my wonderful, patient boyfriend, yesterday's lunch even managed that coveted title of "delicious." This recipe uses a pasta machine, but if you have a bit more time, it's easily made by hand. Of course, if you're more prepared than I am, you probably have dried pasta somewhere anyway...

Pasta with Artichoke Hearts
Inspired by the contents of my cupboard and freezer
Feeds 2 tired grad students

Ingredients
3/4 cup dried or 1 cup fresh pasta (see below)
2 cups frozen artichoke hearts (canned works, but I prefer frozen)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons reasonably nice olive oil*

Directions

Cook the pasta until about al dente. There are too many Italians in my lab for me to argue. Drain the pasta, reserving the water. Alternatively, I use chopsticks to fish out all the noodles, since fresh noodles have a beautiful, maddening tendency to tangle into a magnificent heap anyway.

In the remaining hot water, drop the artichoke hearts in and boil until soft, about 2 minutes after the water returns to a boil. Meanwhile, toss the pasta with the salt, pepper and olive oil to taste. Once the artichoke hearts are cooked, add them to the seasoned pasta.

Divide into preferred serving vessels (I like bowls, my roommate likes plates), and enjoy!!!

Fresh Pasta
Inspired by various sources and a lovely quote on this particular page

Ingredients
1 egg
Splash of milk
Water if dough is dry
1/4 teaspoon salt
~ 2 cups flour (I prefer a mix of spelt and all-purpose)

Directions

In a large bowl, mix the egg, milk and salt. Mix in the flour, kneading until it is a soft dough, neither dry and flaky nor soft enough to puddle in the bottom of the mixing bowl. Allow to rest at least 20 minutes, but it will survive up to a few days in the refrigerator. If you have extra dough left over, it stores well, protected by plastic wrap or a box, in said refrigerator.

If you have a pasta machine: Pinch off small pieces of dough and feed through a pasta machine, gradually reducing the thickness with each pass, then cutting the pasta. Flour the dough lightly, to prevent sticking.

If there is no pasta machine: Divide dough into two pieces and with a rolling pin or wine or pisco bottle, roll each one into a thin sheet. Heavily flour each side, then gently roll each sheet into logs. Slicing the logs with a sharp knife will yield lovely noodles, once each slice is uncoiled.

Boil a pot of water, and toss each batch into the boiling water once each are ready. With a pair of chopsticks or a fork, separate the strands as they cook, then fish them out once done. Fresh pasta cooks in 60-90 seconds, so keep a close watch on the pot! They also tend to foam up and bubble over when fully cooked, so it is in your best interest to remove cooked noodles promptly.

Cooked noodles stick together after a few minutes, but you can mitigate this by adding a little of the cooking water or oil and stirring frequently. Toss with your desired toppings and seasonings, and enjoy! Fruits of one's labor, indeed...

Note: It is possible to buy tasty extra virgin olive oil at a reasonable price. I prefer the ones in the glass bottles at a local grocery store. I currently have a nice one from Spain, purchased from Trader Joe's, that clocked in at about $8 for 1L.

Quiet Saturdays - Potatoes and Cauliflower Mash

I've heard that weekends alone are sad and well, lonely, but then I wouldn't be able to make dishes like this. Mushy leftover cauliflower turns into tender bits of garlicky contrast in mashed potatoes. The massive California drought (and the cost of air conditioning) encourages a reduction in the amount of water boiled. The combined result is simple, quick and delicious, with enough leftover for tomorrow. Substitute olive oil for butter to make this vegan. Enjoy your weekend!

Cauliflower

Inspired by my mother, who can handle 4 burners at once when making dinner 0.o

Ingredients

1 head cauliflower

1-2 cloves garlic

1-2 tbsp olive/cooking oil

1/2-1 cup water

1 tsp salt (to taste)

Directions

1.  Mince the garlic finely and drop at the bottom of a large saucepan. Add the oil and turn the fire to low, stirring the garlic occasionally.

2. Split and chop the cauliflower into bite-sized pieces. When the garlic turns golden-brown, add the cauliflower pieces and toss to cover with oil.

3. When the cauliflower begins to brown, about 5 minutes later, add enough water to cover the bottom of the pan. Allow to steam until the cauliflower is tender, around 10 minutes. Enjoy it freshly cooked! This recipe works better with leftover cauliflower that's already a bit too soft, and only uses about a third* of the cauliflower anyway.

Potatoes

Inspired by being a cheap grad student...

Ingredients

2 Yukon gold or other potatoes for mashing**

1/2 - 1 cup water

About a third of the leftover cauliflower

1-2 tbsp butter (olive oil works well here, too)

1/2 tsp salt (to taste)

1/2 tsp black pepper (to taste)

Directions

1. Peel and chop the potatoes. Place them into a saucepan, adding just enough water to cover the potatoes. Boil for 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are soft. Poke them with a fork if uncertain.

2. Once the potatoes are done, add your leftover cauliflower and allow to boil again. As you stir, the potatoes will start to break down, essentially mashing themselves. I'm fond of the chunks, but I suppose you can puree them for smooth mashed potatoes.

3. Season with butter/olive oil, salt and pepper. Take a bowlful, sit by yourself, and enjoy quietly. Alternatively, serve and enjoy with family and friends! Either way, it's pretty great :)

* Why a third of the cauliflower? The first third was part of dinner for my roommate and me, the second third was devoured with baby carrots whilst reading webcomics and the third, well, it had become too mushy to eat plain...

** Mine came from the garden. The variety is a guess, at best.

Summer Just Means No Excuses - Blueberries and Cream

There might be an impending career change in my future, and of course, instead of writing a Kalman filter or applying for fellowships/jobs/internships/anything that might hire a semi-trained engineer, I think I'll stay up past 4am, finally finish cooking that pot of beans from 3 days ago, work on the croissants that I started, impulsively, in the afternoon (see Kalman filter and applying for actual, plausible sources of funding), and whip together this, a take on berries and cream.

On the weekend of July 4th (Independence Day for the U.S.A. folks), my family kindly deposited several grocery items at the house. It's always a blessing and a challenge. Extraordinarily sweet of them, but it does take creativity to finish everything before insidious fuzz creeps in.

One of those items with an alarmingly close use-by date happened to be fresh blueberries, which my aunt had probably scored for less than half-price. More of an idea than a recipe, this jelly works quite well with almost any other berry or fruit that releases a lot of juice when cooked. If you are gelatin-adverse, might I suggest a cornstarch or agar pudding instead?

Forgiving Blueberry Jelly sponsored by Frugal Chinese Relatives, Inc.

Ingredients

1 cup blueberries, fresh or frozen

1 tbsp sugar

1-2 drops vanilla extract

1 tsp gelatin powder

Directions

1. Toss the blueberries and sugar in a heat-proof bowl. Microwave for around 3 minutes, until berries are hot and mostly liquid. 

2. Add the drop/s of vanilla extract. Sprinkle over the gelatin powder, then stir to dissolve.

3. Refrigerate for about 2 hours, until gelatin is set. I actually put it in the freezer for about 30 minutes, which is great if you can remember it's there.

Amaretto Whipped Cream

Inspired by one day running out of vanilla extract. You may pull my baker card now, but only if you promise to taste this whipped cream first.

Ingredients

1/4 cup heavy cream

Pinch (really small!) of salt

1/2 tsp almond liqueur 

Directions

1. Whip cream with the salt until soft mounds form.

2. Add the Amaretto, then whip a bit more. It will form soft peaks.

3. Dollop on top of your cooled blueberry jelly. Alternatively, it's great on hot fruit compote, cake, ice cream, crepes, and pretty much anything. I have completely ignored vanilla extract in favor of Amaretto in my whipped cream for months now, convinced that it's the most heavenly item that has ever left my kitchen. 

Enjoy!

Dreams - Lemon Meringue Pie

I tease my friend D. about his dreams.

This kicked off when we marveled at sea lions in La Jolla Cove, picked up steam when we explored Las Vegas, kept popping up when we hiked in (and admired) the Grand Canyon, and most recently, revived as we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge on foot (twice...). You see, D. is a visiting scholar from Italy, here for 6 months then gone, back to complete his Ph.D. in Palermo. He's the adventurous type, and keen on exploring as much of the States as he can reach before returning home. The joke began when he declared, "my dream!" in his lilting Italian accent as we drove out from Riverside for each of our various adventures, and just hasn't let up.

One boy's dream is another girl's project. If his (English) word is dream, then mine is project. From trekking around the Riverside hills to my Ph.D., each one of my own dreams seems much more achievable when I call them projects and break them into steps. To me, dreams are those far-away wishes that you make, eyes half-closed, when you can't quite see how to make them true. Projects require work. Projects are real. Projects can be kneaded and folded and baked.

One such project is lemon meringue pie, but I seemed to be perpetually short of lemons, eggs or both. Turns out, though, D's favorite dessert is lemon meringue pie. The surest way for me to finally! accomplish something is a promise to another, and his birthday was in November (I'm sorry, blog!). I made it a point to pick up lemons and extra eggs the next time I went to the grocery store, and in one fell swoop, I managed to bring happiness to my friend and fulfill one of my own dreams. Then, two weeks ago was our adviser's birthday, and I could not bring myself to accept one of the too-sweet, mass-produced things from the grocery store bakery as the treat. As I muddled about in indecision, D. finally suggested lemon meringue pie again.

After making our adviser nervous about a sudden lab meeting that had been called, where none of his students would tell him the reason, we managed to surprise him with a small party. He then turned the tables by raising the stakes for next year. Apparently, when he was a grad student, someone in the lab programmed one of their research robots to drive up to his adviser with the cake. The gauntlet, it has been thrown!

The next morning, I received the news from D. that the solitary leftover slice had been a satisfactory breakfast. Dreams achieved.

Lemon Meringue Pie, adapted from use real butter
Makes one 9" pie

Pie (crust, borrowed from Chez Pim)
1 cup + 2 tbsp all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (1 stick) cold salted butter
2 tbsp water

You'll need a large, flat surface, a rolling pin, two pieces of plastic wrap (optional, but they make life much easier..), a sharp knife, a large bowl, a cup and clean hands.

Lay one piece of plastic wrap on your flat surface. Put the water in the cup for easy access.

Dump the flour into a large bowl. Cut the butter into slices and drop them into the flour, then break them apart with your fingers. Coat each piece of butter with the flour. Add the water, mix it about with your fingers, then start to fold the flour and butter onto itself. I like to take half the mixture, dump it back on top of itself, turn the bowl, and repeat. Once you have a cohesive dough, pick it up and place it on the plastic wrap, then cover it with the other piece of plastic wrap. Start to roll it into a rectangular shape, so that you can keep folding it a few more times. If the plastic wrap starts to stretch, remove it, dust the dough with flour, replace the wrap and turn it over. Keep folding until you have a smooth, workable piece of dough. It's simpler than it sounds, and better instructions (and pictures!) are found on Ms. Pim's lovely website.

Once you have your crust, roll it out and transfer it to your pie pan. Form your edges, then put it in the fridge or freezer. At this point, preheat your oven to 350F. Once the oven is 350F, prick the pie crust and parbake for 15 minutes. This step is to prevent a soggy crust. If you have your egg whites handy, you might wish to save a few drops in a separate bowl, then brush the saved egg whites onto the crust when it comes out of the oven. This tip is borrowed from Dessert First.

Lemon (filling)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 cup water
Pinch salt
3 egg yolks
2 tbsp butter
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

In a small bowl, whisk together the sugar, cornstarch and salt. In a saucepan, boil the water. Turn the fire off, then whisk in the sugar, cornstarch and salt and turn the fire back on. It will immediately thicken and turn somewhat translucent. When the pudding mixture starts to boil, temper the egg yolks by whisking in a bit of the pudding at a time. Pour the egg yolks and pudding back into the pan. Cook until it begins to bubble again, a bit alarmingly. Turn off the fire again and whisk in the butter, lemon juice and vanilla. Pour this into your half-baked pie crust.

Meringue (topping)
3 egg whites
1/4 tsp cream of tarter
Pinch salt
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp sugar

You need a clean whisk for this. In a stand mixer or a large bowl, whisk the egg whites, cream of tarter and salt until it forms soft peaks. Pour in the sugar and whisk until it forms stiff peaks. Top the lemon filling, preferably touching the pie crust with the meringue. Bake at 375F for 20 minutes, until a nice, light brown. Alternatively, if you are cooler than I, and possess a propane torch, please use that (and send me pictures!).

Enjoy!

Pasta from Palermo, Sicily

It's little Italy here in the lab! My adviser is Italian, and a constant stream of visiting scholars (all but one is Italian, and we think one of the Italians will stay for his PhD...) have brought in language opportunities, jokes about espresso machines and a mild obsession with spaghetti. Over the past few months, I've become good friends with D, who happens to hail from the lovely, sun-soaked city of Palermo, Sicily.

D. is only staying here for six months, but already in the past three and a half, he's taught me to make three pasta dishes, thrown his own birthday party (it was fantastic, and involved a lemon meringue pie) visited Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Universal Studios, San Francisco, and taught Italian phrases to anyone who will listen (yes! I love languages!). On the last nights that one of our friends (the one non-Italian visiting scholar so far...) was here, before she returned to her home country, he made this particular dish. It's fast, since you can put it together as the water boils and the pasta cooks, simple, requiring eight ingredients total, and incredibly flavorful.

He likes spaghetti, but I find it messy and difficult to eat (I use chopsticks! Don't judge my inability to handle a fork properly!). I've substituted small shells, but those and macaroni happen to be my personal favorites. He also used fresh tomatoes, but it's winter in this hemisphere (even here in So-Cal) and I find that canned tomatoes are cheaper, with a more intense flavor. I buy the huge cans (cheaper by the oz.) and save them for a few days, cooking more dishes throughout the week. You should have approximately twice as much tomato as tuna. Another note is that any quality of Parmesan can be used. I think he originally made this dish with the little paper packets that come with pizza slices. Oh, and don't overcook the pasta. Imagine an opinionated Italian man lecturing you on the importance of al dente rather than soft pasta. I think David Lebovitz gets a pass, though, for being a god of pastry.

Ingredients:
About a cup of dried pasta (or the equivalent amount of spaghetti)
2 cloves garlic
1 can tuna
About 1 can diced tomatoes
2 tbsp shredded Parmesan cheese (any quality works)
Salt to taste (about 1 tsp)
Black pepper to taste (about 1/2 tsp)
More olive oil than you think you need (about 4 tbsp)

Method:
In a medium pot, boil enough water that you can completely cover the pasta when it's added. Meanwhile, mince the garlic finely and toss it into a medium bowl. To this bowl, add everything but the pasta and mix it well. Once the water is boiling, add the pasta to the water and cook about 7-8 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Drain the pasta, and put the pot back on the stove. Add the contents of the bowl and cook just long enough to heat it through. Any longer, and face the wrath of said opinionated Italian mentioned above. Dish up, and enjoy!

Next up, the lemon meringue pie that was previously on my aspirations list!

Labmates make the work environment

This blog is veering further and further from its original goal, which was detailing my cooking and baking exploits. Then again, its name has a connotation of emergency, which is pretty widely applicable.

The real reason I wanted to write today, though, is more out of appreciation. One morning this week, my labmate arrived and we started talking. After a while, he said to me, I have a question for you. He told me about his program, which required solving a matrix calculation using a series of different parameters. He needed to solve this nine times, changing one of the parameters each time and saving the values.

About three weeks ago, I encountered a bug in one of my own programs, where I needed to solve some differential equations. While trying to set up a vector of solutions, I accidentally created a four-dimensional array, which promptly screwed up the rest of my indexing.

I recalled this and searched in Google (my default method for exploring the capabilities of MATLAB...). Lo and behold, multi-dimensional arrays, including the "cube" of values that worked perfectly for his project. And, I think I've found the solution to a problem that's been bugging me (sorry...) for a couple of days now.

This would never have happened last year, simply because I was the sole inhabitant of our lab. Even after a master's student joined the lab group, we were rarely there at the same time due to classes (mine) and work (his). This joint problem-solving was a small thing, and quite common in our lab, but in the long run, it makes me glad to be in a lab where questions are encouraged and collaboration flows naturally.

Next time, I'll return to food, a semi-recipe that this particular labmate first made for our friends, then taught me to make :)

Pomegranates and Imposter Syndrome

I'm tempted to put on music, loud, dance-type bachata that drowns out thought and pulls my brain toward trying to translate it, but it will only tease me with the seductive beat of the songs. Music is emotion recorded, and it's easy to fall into the musicians' states of mind, pretending to have company. Instead, I stand, alone, in almost complete silence with my hands in cool water, methodically breaking down a pomegranate. 

It's the type of task that should be boring to me but isn't, and that leads me to wonder whether I am suited for grad school, in a theoretical field of all things. Over and over, I am told, imposter syndrome, you can do it, just work hard. And so I do. I study, I sit puzzled, I ask questions, I write code, I break my code, I ask my adviser to break my code, he sends me back to fix my broken code, and the cycle repeats. Adjust the equations. Ask more questions. Read more, be more confused, be less confused, be ecstatic when my code runs, crestfallen when my initial conditions or matrix breaks it again, despairing when it's the night before my meeting with my adviser and hopeful when I do leave his office. Rinse and repeat (otherwise, no one will want to sit near you). And so the cycle of a researcher-in-training. It is peppered with hope, doubts, early mornings, long afternoons, late nights, and imposter syndrome. 

Imposter syndrome. I'm told the symptoms are one's feeling of inadequacy when one is perfectly capable. I'm starting to figure out the difference between acquired skills and raw intellectual ability. Acquired skills are the ones that I spend my days learning now, where my capability is truly lacking. My intelligence and creativity (that I'm working on believing I have!) is the reason my adviser took me on, despite my inexperience in pure math. Both skills and intelligence can be developed, though. I'm firmly in the camp that believes that while some people have more mathematical reasoning or kinesthetic ability or tend to like it more, everyone can learn. For some, it may take an unrealistic amount of time, particularly if they have no interest, but it is still possible. Without this sustaining belief, I probably would have dropped out to bake for a living by now.

When I'm done with the pomegranate, I eat the seeds with my fingers. I wouldn't be a food blogger if I didn't comment on how much I love the perfect little sweet-tart garnets, but endless blogs out there have done the same, with beautiful photos. Consider that previous statement my meta-comment for the day. I could have used a spoon, but I like the feeling of being really connected to each little pop and crunch. It reminds me of my lines of code, all nestled in logical statements that turn my matrices into plots across my screen. If you wanted, you could fit each little seed back into its prior resting place, but to me, it's an exercise in futility. In research, you can always push a little farther, add a little more to this paper, prove another theorem. Sometimes, it's enough to recognize that your seeds are ready, and you will enjoy them as much grasped messily from the bowl as if you ate them daintily with a spoon.

It seems a little fitting that I start again with pomegranates. Last time I posted, I was just about to start grad school. Now that I'm a year and a half (!) in, it's as good a time as any to get back into it. In a way, it's a little like coming home, and knowing that this is still fun.

It's been an insane year, and I suspect the insanity will not be over any time soon. Luckily, though, I still have this space that is completely controllable. See you soon!