Toasts | in memoriam of Baba, ii

THIRTEEN YEARS: IN MEMORIAM


My "Pi(e) Day Dedication Pie" from 2012: Rye Pecan Pie, recipe from The New York Times.

One year ago today, I baked a pecan pie on Pi(e) Day for my father, my 爸爸 (Baba), vowing to honor the memory of him and his passing on this day with the celebratory consumption of a (pecan) pie (whether freshly baked or bought). All this is based on a fourfold wordplay that I somehow brought to life, and I'd like to think he would've appreciated my sense of humor. :P

Having celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday only a few weeks couple weeks ago, it is difficult to fathom that my dad has been gone for essentially half of my life. As the years pass by, I feel my limited memories of him slowly slip away, and that mustn't happen. I believe the best way to remember these stories that I keep close to my heart (and the ones left untold and unshared) is to continually share these stories with the people nearest and dearest to me -- not as invitations of pity and sadness, but as a celebration of a life. The life of a man who left an impressionable legacy on those he came to know, love, and cherish. He was a tough cookie -- sometimes to a fault with the stubbornness of a mule and the insistence of a drill sergeant -- and I feel my own obstinate ways and perseverance were reflections of the daughter he taught me to become. If I had a million wishes, they'd be all for at least one more day (and if I were a bit greedier, many days) with him.

Me with Baba and Mom at my cousin Renee's engagement party, circa 1992.

I had the pleasure of seeing my extended family this past weekend to celebrate my aunt Cynthia (my dad's oldest sister) and her seventy-third birthday (crazy, huh?!). At one point, we were talking about skiing (one of my family's favorite pastimes), as my cousin Michael, and his wife, Laura, had just gone to a relatively nearby ski resort the day before with their twin sons to enjoy the last opportunities to savor the snowy slopes before spring near approaches. I asked Laura about when she learned how to ski and if she found that she was able to pick it up relatively quickly or if it took longer than expected. She shared with me a tidbit about my dad that I didn't know about --  he was the one who first taught her how to ski when she joined our family for the first time on a ski trip. He was very patient and thorough (as I would have expected him to be), and she still carries those lessons and instructions with her to this day, every time she clicks on her boots and takes to the powdered trails with Michael and her sons. That was very touching.

The discussion moved onto food (something we are always enjoying, even at that very moment), when Michael asked me what cuisine Marcus and I find myself always coming back to when we're cooking at home, even after everything I've had fortune of trying in New York City. Japanese cuisine, we said without hesitation. At the time, we happened to be dining at Harold's, a Jewish delicatessen in central Jersey, as Michael and my other cousin, Spencer, were contently savoring rich slices of beef tongue. I made the observation that I can pretty much eat anything, unless it resembles the animal or creature a little too much, as is the case with the beef tongue, whole baby octopus, or even wholly cooked lobster. My family looked at me with disbelief, to which I just responded, " If it's de-shelled for me, no problem, but really, it's the legs that freak me out -- I just can't do it."

I suppose the image of cracking through a whole cooked lobster resonated with Michael that he asked if any of us remembered where we had sushi for the first time ever. We noted the first Japanese restaurant to open near our Jersey hometown -- it was the only place to find it without traveling outside county lines, especially when sushi was one of the most exotic cuisines at the time and not as pervasive and ubiquitous as it is now. The conversation turned to Tomoe Sushi, the little joint on Thompson Street that used to be one of the top places to sink your teeth into the most exotic cuts of raw fish (some say it used to be the sushi mecca of yore), and how they used to frequent that place in the nineties, before they changed owners many times over. Michael noted that my dad was one of the bravest eaters amongst them all, recalling this one time when he cracked open a live lobster (yes, live) with his bare hands and ate it up without pause or grimace, insisting that Michael try a piece. Further confirmation that my father was pretty badass and fearless -- the kind of adventurous eater I can only hope to be one day.

I left the family lunch this weekend with my heart a little warmer, my memories a bit fonder.


IN THE KITCHEN: "PECAN & CHOCOLATE TART" -- THE PREP, PÂTE SUCRÉE, & FILLING

I had been shopping around for the perfect pecan pie recipe over the past year (I started looking the day after the last Pie Day), compiling a list of potential contenders. My search widened the parameters as I stumbled upon lovely recipes for tarts and such, which led me to wonder -- were tarts technically pies? Would it be fair to bake a tart instead of a pie on Pie Day? A pie has a crust and a filling and can be sweet or savory; similarly, a tart can also be sweet or savory, but has shallow sides and only a bottom crust. Just by sheer definition alone, I could surmise that tarts are pies, but not all pies are tarts, which meant I was in the clear with baking a tart on Pie Day. Then I stumbled upon the perfect recipe this past fall whilst perusing the November 2012 issue of Bon Appetit -- a pecan and chocolate tart with bourbon whipped crème fraîche. The photo alone had me sold -- it was a gorgeously browned tart with a precise layer of concentric pecans sunken into a dark chocolate filling.

Just as it was last year, I've never made a tart from scratch, so the recipe itself was a new challenge for me in the kitchen. As with most dessert recipes that involves a crust, the recipe came in two parts. The first ingredient on the list requires a pâte sucrée (pronounced pat-sue-CRAY) -- i.e., the dough that the French created exclusively for the use in tart crusts. This dough is "sweet and crumbly" giving tarts "a sturdy, tender base that support the heaviest fillings (e.g., custards, creams, and fruit) without falling to pieces." Ultimately, pâte sucrée has the same elements as a standard pie crust except for the addition of egg yolks, cream, and sugar, which together "transforms" it all into something almost "cookie-like" -- tasting just like shortbread.


The ingredients were simple enough -- eggs, heavy cream, butter, sugar, flour, salt, pecans, chocolate chips (I mixed semi-sweet and dark chocolate chips for a more dynamic taste), vanilla bean, and both light and dark corn syrups. Thanks to Whole Foods and Fresh Direct, procuring them all was easy as pie! :P

{1} I combined all of the pâte sucrée ingredients and chilled the resulting dough for about two hours until firm. Once the dough was ready, I let it sit at room temperature for 15 minutes before I began to roll it out into a 1/8"-disk. {2} It was my first time ever rolling out this kind of dough, so I struggled a bit, mainly because it was still crumbly and fragile even after the two-hour chill time in the fridge. After attempting to roll it out smoothly, I gave up and began to piece the crumbled pieces of dough into the 11"-diameter fluted tart pan with a removable bottom recommended by the recipe (I got mine here). Once I made sure the thickness of the dough crust was about 1/8" throughout up until the pan edge, I returned the tart pan back to the fridge for another hour of chilling.

{3} An hour later, I layered in two cups of chopped and toasted pecans over the prepared tart shell, followed by four ounces of chocolate chips and concentric circles of whole pecans. I finished this triple-layered goodness with the filling comprised of warm brown butter infused with vanilla bean, corn syrup, salt, and eggs. With everything swimming in the tart filling, I placed it into the preheated oven of 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 45 minutes.


IN THE KITCHEN: "PECAN & CHOCOLATE TART" -- THE FINAL STEPS


The oven timer went off, and violà -- the finished golden tart with the crust evenly brown (no burnt edges!). I transferred the pan to a wire rack, letting it cool for about 30 minutes.

I got a fancy schmancy new cake stand from West Elm this weekend, so I was very excited to use it for the first time! Here are some gratuitous pretty tart shots as drool fodder! :P








When I first cut into the tart, a bunch of filling started oozing out, so I think it was heavier on one side over the other. I'll have to note for next time to more evenly pour over the filling into tart shell (perhaps to start from the center, going out).


The first slice of the tart that I got to enjoy with Marcus, in dedication my awesome dad, Baba, on Pi(e) Day.

Findings: After baking a tart from scratch for the first time, I think I find this process a lot more straightforward and intuitive than my experience with the pie last year. It was certainly less work intensive, allowing me to work at a leisurely pace, especially since I had taken the day off so I could properly allot the time to this dedicatory ritual. You may notice that I include any bourbon whipped crème fraîche in my post here -- I promise I have a reasonable explanation! Once the tart was ready to be served, I combined heavy cream, crème fraîche, and some bourbon together, attempting to whip it to soft peaks. But alas, I was a victim of overwhipping, and even after I tried it for taste, I wasn't crazy about it, so I just didn't try whipping up a new batch again. After trying the tart solo, I can definitely vouch for how awesome it tastes without the accoutrement -- the caramelized pecans on top and inside with the melted chocolate, all swept up with the buttery crust is just heavenly.

Whenever I conquer a new recipe, especially one that involves baking (even worse when it comes to trying a new technique), I will admit that I harbor quite a bit of anxiety the days leading up to D-Day. What calms me down? Surprisingly enough, preparing my mise en place. The orderliness and organization of the needed ingredients all seems to have some kind of calming zen effect on me, and I snap out of it almost immediately once it's complete. I had that scare with my crumbly pâte sucrée (the hardest part of a tart recipe, in my humble opinion), but you always gotta find some way to make it work. Thankfully, here we have a handsome looking tart if I do say so myself! I'm always looking for recipes to conquer in the future on Pi(e) Day, so if you know of any kickass pecan pie or tart recipes, please feel free to send them my way --  it'd be very much appreciated!!

This dedication, this culinary ode, this yearly ritual -- I am glad I can do something as meaningful as this on the day that my mother and I had lost so much in the past. As I enjoyed my sliver of tart today, I thought about the ice cream sundaes my dad and I used to enjoy together at Friendly's on the weekends with the rest of my extended family. For him, it was always the Happy Ending Sundae with toasted almond fudge, whipped cream, and a cherry on top as well as with a side of crushed almonds and chocolate syrup (wasn't kidding when I divulged that our nutty family loves nuts)! For my younger self, it was always a dish of strawberry ice cream, straight up. If any of you have a special memory of him, please share these stories in the comments section or even just the next time I see you -- I would very much love to hear them!

Anyway, if you can, please enjoy a slice of pie (or tart!) today in memory of my father on Pi(e) Day! :) Thank you for letting me share this special dedication on this day. Happy Pi(e) Day!

--March 14, 2013

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Toasts | in memoriam of Baba

PI(E) DAY: IN MEMORIAM
This isn't something I talk about frequently -- not because I don't wish to or it makes me sad, uncomfortable, or the like -- but for the complete opposite reason. It usually makes the people around me feel uneasy, resulting in being unsure of what to say, and in most cases (especially if they are individuals I haven't known for very long), having downcast expressions of pity. I know they would mean well, but it would subsequently make me feel uncomfortable, causing me to regret even bringing it up in the first place. Nevertheless, since I'm sharing whatever I wish to say out in the blogosphere, quasi-soliloquy, all of those collateral situations will be minimized and mostly circumvented.

Back in 2000, my mom and I lost my father (I called him Baba, for "father" in Cantonese) to his three-year, formidable battle with hepatocellular carcinoma (i.e., cancer of the liver). At the time, I was only thirteen. It was a rough adolescence for me and more of a trying time even for my incredibly resilient mother. While the wounds have long since ebbed from the incessantly afflicting bouts of grief, the void is still there, and we miss him every single day that has passed since. It has been difficult to find the perfect way to honor his memory over the years, mainly because I couldn't figure out what would work best without appearing clichéd and contrived. Even in the deepest of losses, I still wished to be original and personal.

Baba, Mom, and me visiting my cousin at Cornell University, circa 1990.

Baba always encouraged and pushed me to do and be my best every single day, and just like my mom, humility was paramount in doing so. In many ways, he was stubborn and fastidious (at times, ridiculously so), but mostly in a reasonable manner, and I see so much him in myself as I've grown much since those impressionable teenage years. Even though he is no longer with us, I continue carry his memory in the personality traits we shared. He was also a man who appreciated good food and would treat my mom and me to some quality dining a few times a year before he fell ill. Baba was the one who first introduced to the art of eating (i.e., outside of our family's kitchen), which included fancy seafood dinners over in The Highlands of New Jersey (Doris and Ed's comes to memory) and white-clothed tables in New York City (my first being at Union Square Café). I have him to thank for bringing me into the world of toques, haute cuisine, and enjoying all things culinary -- Four Tines could scarcely exist without him.

Today is the twelfth anniversary of his passing. Though it may be many years too late, I believe that I have found the best way -- poetic at best, naïve in the least -- to remember him. In a nutshell (you'll find out shortly but please pardon the pun), here is the train of thought behind what I wish to do:

{1} March 14 is informally celebrated as "Pi (π) Day" (as π is approximately equal to 3.14), a "holiday" that many elementary school mathematics teachers use to encourage students to learn more about geometry by doing activities related to the actual figure of π and to any related homophonic things (like dessert pie);

{2} Along with this, my entire extended family is obsessed with nuts (salted cashews, whole peanuts, toasted almonds, butter pecan ice cream, etc.);

{3} We also jokingly call ourselves "the nutty Addams Family" because of our quirky ways and crazy idiosyncrasies;

{4} My dad's American name begins with a P, and with our last name being Kan (pronounced kahn), I used to call him "P-Kan Nut" (my attempt at a clever play on "pecan").

So with the anniversary of his passing falling on "Pi Day," my family's "nutty" obsession, and my "punny" nickname for Baba, I thought it'd be equally appropriate to bake a pecan pie in his memory and continue making it as an annual ritual for years to come. This combination of cheesy, possibly witty, and maybe even nutty (ha-ha-ha) begins my attempt to create a pecan pie from scratch.

IN THE KITCHEN: "RYE PECAN PIE" - THE PREP AND THE DOUGH
I found a recipe for rye pecan pie from The New York Times recipe archive. It seemed pretty straightforward, plus the included photograph made it even more enticing. Since pies are quite time-consuming to make from scratch, I divvied up the project over two days, so I could dedicate enough time for all of the steps.

The first part involved making the pie crust dough.


{1} The ingredients -- sugar, flour, cold unsalted butter, and kosher salt -- were {3} combined using a paddle attachment for my stand mixer on low speed. {2} The two pounds of cold butter needed to be cubed, added to the dry mixture, and mixed in until pea-sized lumps formed.


{4} Once the tiny lumps formed, I added half a cup of ice water to the dough mixture, just until it holds together. {5} Once the dough was ready, I rolled it until a ball, wrapped it loosely in Saran wrap, and rolled/flattened it into a disk, followed by placing it into the fridge overnight.

{6,7} To prep everything I could before the part of the recipe where I would bake the pie crust and fill the pie, I also took apart my springform cake pan and flipped the bottom over so that the outside surface faces in. This is to help prevent the pie dough from sinking into the pan's crease.

{8} Here are all of the pecan nuts needed for this recipe! {9} I poured the pecan halves from Whole Foods into a Pyrex container to store away overnight. These will be used to top the pie at the end. {10, 11} I also took the pecans I ordered from Fresh Direct and finely chopped them using my mini food processor. These will be used for the pie's filling. I did all of this on Monday night.


IN THE KITCHEN: "RYE PECAN PIE" - THE BAKED CRUST
First thing to do when baking commences is to preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.


On Tuesday evening, I was to finish the recipe. {1} I took the chilled dough out of the fridge about 15-20 minutes prior to rolling it out, my reason being that my refridgerator tends to be colder than most, so this would make it easier for {2} my spanking new silicone rolling pin to flatten it out!


I had never used a rolling pin before this recipe, so I lightly floured the parchment paper surface as instructed. {3} Man, did this take some muscle! I will have to flatten the dough out into a thinner disk for next time! {4} After about 10-15 minutes of really getting the rolling pin to knead the dough evenly flat to a 16-inch diameter, I lifted the flattened dough and {5} let it settle into the springform pan, fitting the dough down into its edges while pressing the sides firmly against the pan. Then I pinched around the top rim. I refrigerated this dough pan for about 45 minutes before taking it back out to finish the crust making process.


Once 45 minutes was up, {6} I took the pan out of the refrigerator and {7} placed a layer of parchment paper followed by some aluminum foil. Thanks to Linda, I was able to {8} use ceramic pie weights instead of the dried beans for which the recipe called, filling the foil lining with them. Then I put the pan into the oven to bake for about 20 minutes, once the crust turns light golden brown.


{9} After the crust became light golden brown (after about 20 minutes), I removed the parchment paper/foil lining along with the pie weights and returned it back to the oven for another 15 minutes. Once this step was completed, I let the pie cool for another 30 minutes before adding the filling.


IN THE KITCHEN: "RYE PECAN PIE" - THE FILLING AND THE FINAL PIE

While the pie crust was cooling, I lowered the temperature of the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit, and I got started on the filling. {1} Ingredients included molasses and bourbon. {2} I mixed the eggs, melted unsalted butter, molasses, light brown sugar, vanilla extract, kosher salt, and bourbon to be {3} whisked in my stand mixer on low-medium.


{4} After the crust finished cooling, {5} I added the mixed filling.


{6} I sprinkled the chopped pecans over the surface of the pie filling. {7,8} Then, working from outside in, I arranged the pecan halves in concentric circles without overlapping until the entire surface became covered. I put it back in the oven for a good 60 minutes until the filling became firm.


{9} An hour later, the pie was ready, and {10} I used a serrated knife to saw off the overhanging pie crust. I think the springform pan I had was a little deeper than the recipe had needed. Oh wells!


Ta-daaa! The finished rye pecan pie!


Here's the first slice, dedicated to my wonderful father, Baba, on Pi(e) Day.

Findings: Considering this was my first attempt at ever baking a pie, I would have to say that this was quite a surprising success -- I didn't expect it to turn out this delicious! The crust was golden and flaky -- I mean, think about how much butter I put in there! :P The recipe was pretty easy to follow, and the only hardship I encountered was rolling out the dough with my French-style rolling pin. What a workout! Also, I will have to find a shallower springform pan and get better with shaping pie crust. So for the coming years, I invite anyone who has a great pecan pie recipe to send them my way -- it is much appreciated!

All in all, I think I've found the perfect way to honor my dad's memory -- every Pie Day, pie will be eaten -- whether baked or bought -- and I'll reminisce about all of the great times I had with him, however limited they were. Missing you and thinking about you every day, Baba -- hope you like my P-Kan pie! :)

So if you can, please have a piece of pie today in memory of my dad on Pi(e) Day! :)

Price point: $6.99-10.99 for assorted packages of pecans, $20.99 for a bottle of bourbon.

--March 14, 2012

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Toasts | 25

It's my twenty-fifth birthday today. Just wanted to share a little blast from the past with you all.

Mom, Baba (my dad), and 婆婆 (my grandma) at our old house in Jersey celebrating my third birthday, 1990.

Twenty-two birthday cakes later, I've come along way to present day -- no longer shy and scared of my own shadow. And yes, that is indeed Mickey Mouse iced onto the top of the cake.

Anyways, I'm hoping not to be counting beans today (still up in the air, unfortunately), but rather just spending the day relaxing with Marcus and Neutrino, our kitten (more like cat these days :P). The ideal plan is to grab brunch at Trestle followed an afternoon of attending a Serious Eats cookbook signing with Ed Levine, its founder, and Carey Jones, its editor, at Williams-Sonoma Columbus Circle and making our usual "birthday stop" at Argo Tea. Those are the best birthdays -- the ones where you spend it with the ones you love over an afternoon of relaxing and loosely laid plans.

Toasts | Happy Birthday, Mom!

I just wanted to take the time today to wish my wonderful mother a happy birthday!

My mom and me at family party, circa 1991.

My mom is an amazing woman. Her wisdom and unceasing patience has made me the person I am today. The root of everything she has taught me over the years epitomizes one simple thing -- humility. She always reminds me that everything in this world is a privilege -- no one should feel entitled to anything, for you should earn and be thankful for the privilege of whatever is at hand. I continue to carry that philosophy with me today, and I can't imagine living myself any other way.

She is also the strongest person I know and a woman of few words. Her resilience to hardships -- she carries herself through the thick and thin almost effortlessly -- is something I strive to have some day. And although she isn't verbally expressive with her emotions (the typical terse, Asian way), her actions -- both selfless and humble -- just shows me how thankful and lucky I am to have such a gift of being her daughter. We've been through so much together (good and bad), and everything she's done has always been for me, for us, and for our family. I hope that one day I can become an ounce of the mother she has been to me for my future children.

Terri Guillemets, a quotation anthologist, has poetically described mothers best:

“I love my mother as the trees love water and sunshine -- she helps me grow, prosper, and reach great heights.”

Mom, thank you for always being there for me and for helping me grow into someone who will always wish to reach great heights. I know we don't say it as often aloud as we should -- I love you, Mom! Hope you have an amazing birthday today!

Toasts | dedication to Auntie Wynnie, ii

This post is dedicated to 九姑媽, my Auntie Wynnie. Around the same time last year, I've spoken very highly of her in my introductory "About Me" post as the woman who knew I was a lover of food before I did! As always, I'd like to thank her for always being there for me and for always encouraging me to believe in myself and to pursue what means the most to me -- Four Tines wouldn't be what it is today (or exist, in fact) without her.

The "family girls" (Auntie Cynthia, Auntie Wynnie, my mom, me, and Renee) enjoying a night out at my "old" favorite restaurant, fresh., in Tribeca (sadly closed now), March 2008.

Perhaps you'll remember my dedication to her last year included a recited poem of ee cummings, "i carry your heart with me," so I wanted to do something a little different here. At her memorial service, my cousins, Terry (her son) and Sara (her niece), and I performed our own rendition of The Everly Brother's hit, "Let It Be Me," as it had a special significance for her and her husband, my Uncle Alan.

The beautiful words written by the soulful duo always tug at my heartstrings and make me think of her, so here's to you, Auntie Wynnie, whose heart I'll carry with me always, whose love gave me the courage to get through so many hardships, whose kindness always showed that family didn't end at the bloodline. I see your spirit every day when I hear someone laughing and smiling (and when I'm eating and enjoying a wonderful meal), and I'll be sure to have some extra scoops of ice cream for you tonight (and any night I decide to sneak a bowl of ice cream in before bed :P). Missing you very much as always.

I bless the day I found you,

I want to stay around you,

And so I beg you, let it be me --

Don't take this heaven from one --

If you must cling to someone,

Now and forever, let it be me --

Each time we meet love,

I find complete love,

Without your sweet love what would life be --

So never leave me lonely,

Tell me you love me only,

And that you'll always let it be me . . .

Feasts & Affairs | Chinese New Year 2011

The past two weekends I was back home in Jersey celebrating Chinese New Year with my family. There's much to do in preparation for these two feasts. But let me just start with a brief history that my mom and my Auntie Cynthia have shared with me over the years behind the traditions of Chinese New Year feasts.

The Chinese tradition behind preparing New Year feasts calls for particular ingredients with names suggestive of good omens. These names have homophonic qualities (as Chinese dialects have multiple inflections on the same sound) in that the Chinese word or words for that said ingredient sounds exactly the same as another Chinese word that represents a particular good omen, yet are signified with different Chinese characters. For example, the two dinners I come home for, tün leen faan and hoy leen faan, have double meanings. Tün leen faan, the feast served before the actual date of the New Year (in our case, it was the weekend before), literally translates to mean "all year feast," which is bringing family together (tün) to bid farewell to the past year (leen) through a big feast (faan). The same goes for hoy leen faan, which is "open year feast," for welcoming (hoy) the New Year (leen) with another feast (faan). Incidentally, faan is also a metonym, as it is actually the word for "rice" (a key Chinese dining staple, as we all know), but can also mean an everyday meal or a special feast.


A week before the New Year, Auntie Cynthia buys a batch of freshly cut branches of a Chinese plum blossom tree and puts them in this really pretty vase alongside two pomelos and a couple Mandarin oranges. The blossoming of this type of tree occurs in January and February, typically coinciding with Chinese New Year, perpetuating the "blossoming" prosperity and good fortune for the New Year. By setting this up a week before, it will give the flowers plenty of time to blossom in time for the New Year.

The Chinese also believe in having a pair of pomelos (yow), with leaves intact, in the house during the New Year celebration, because to them, good things always come in pairs. Using the pomelos to decorate during the New Year implies a wish that the home will have everything it will need in the coming year, as yow also means "to have". The same goes for Mandarin oranges (kum), as kum also means gold in Cantonese, a sign of prosperity.


A week later, here are the flowers, fully blossomed!

Additionally, the presence of these particular ingredients indicates the culinary observation of the Chinese high holiday: bao yu (i.e., abalone, a gastropod mollusk), shark fin, and faat choy (i.e., Chinese algae, also known as dried black hair moss). These three ingredients, each usually present in three individual dishes, are delicacies in the world of Chinese cuisine. Families often pay large sums in order for their New Year feasts to be complete.


My mom plated Chinese mushrooms on this dish above, garnished it with broccoli and snap peas, preparing to put abalone on top (seen in plastic container).


Final bao yu dish served with Chinese mushrooms and snap peas. Coincidentally, abalone has a parallel meaning of assurance (bao) of a surplus (yu) in the year ahead, following the superstition of good omens.


I forgot to snap a photograph of the faat choy (the aforementioned Chinese algae/black hair moss) and ho see (i.e., dried oysters), so I borrowed this one from avlxyz on Flickr. Chinese algae are also informally referred to as "Nun's Hair" because of the appearance. The combination of faat choy and ho see go hand-in-hand as they directly translate to, respectively, good fortune and good business. Dried oysters are definitely an acquired taste--it is definitely not a dish many people drool over, but it is certainly something of which you need to take a bite to properly welcome the New Year. Nun's Hair, on the other hand, has an interesting consistency to it. It is somewhat crunchy and chewy at the same time, true to its algae/seaweed nature.


Shark fin soup is always served at Chinese celebrations (New Year feast, weddings, etc.). As it is a rare delicacy, and quite expensive to buy, it is a way of showing that you've saved up during the current year to be able to enjoy this delicious soup with friends and family on a momentous occasion to welcome the new year.


My aunt used ten fresh chickens and some fresh pork meat to make the soup's stock. Once the sweet and savory flavor of the ten chickens and the pork meat make its way into the stock, they are discarded. Prior to serving, she cut up thin pieces of chicken thigh meat and added it to the stock along with the shark fin (another labor-intensive process in cleaning and preparing). When served, we sprinkle finely chopped aged ham on top and splash a little red vinegar for a little extra flavor.


This dish, chi goo (i.e., water lily chestnuts) is typically served with Chinese sausage, preserved duck, and preserved pork. Water lily chestnuts are served to represent “fertility,” particularly in bearing male children for the family (a very traditional Chinese belief), as chi goo resembles (and also signifies) male genitalia.


Auntie Cynthia has a special supplier for these noodles--they import their supply all the way from Hong Kong! Noodles are always served at celebratory events (especially during celebrations of the New Year) to signify long life in the years ahead. Definitely one of my all-time favorites at our family dinners. The noodles have a nice balance of chewiness and crunchiness (what the Cantonese refer to as song). It's a quality I have a hard time translating into English, so hopefully one of these days I'll be able to figure it out!


This is pork shank served with a broccoli garnish. The meat was very tender and soft, with a delicious Asian meaty flavor to it.


This dish is probably the most labor intensive of them all in terms of preparation. Fish (yu) sounds similar to the Chinese word for surplus. Additionally, the type of fish preferred for the New Year is the carp (lei yu), and lei means interest or profit, reinforcing the concept of prosperity. After washing the whole carp fish, you must remove and save the fish meat, its head, and its tail, while keeping the skin intact and discarding all of the remaining bones. On the side, you must finely chop fresh shrimp along with the fish meat, which will slowly turn into paste once it is fully chopped. Then you season the paste with finely chopped cilantro, a dash of salt, some white pepper, and a little soy sauce. You then stuff the paste back into the fish skin, shaping it to resemble the initial carp and cook accordingly.


As most Chinese dinners dictate, a dish of vegetables is a must!


This dish consists of a chopped mixture consisting of dried oysters, pork, and water chestnuts, with which you fill the lettuce wraps. Lettuce (sang choy) has a similar sound to liveliness (sang mang). The use of dried oysters (as mentioned above, ho see) adds good business to this dish as well.


To top off everything else, the most spectacular dish of all is the roast suckling pig. As I've mentioned (in explanation and visual evidence) previously in my birthday toast to my godmother back in October, the Chinese believe that serving a whole roast pig is a good omen--the harmony of the whole. Also, the golden red color of its crisp, roasted skin adds to the auspiciousness of this dish. For the Chinese, red is symbolic of good fortune and happiness.


Here's a close up of the pig's head. My aunt cleverly placed this Chinese medallion in its mouth for an extra little something--a lucky gold coin!

We also had prawns (photo not shown), which have connotations of happiness--the larger the prawn, the more implied joy and happiness will lay ahead in the New Year. Along with the theme of homophones and good omens, the connotation of happiness here is derived from the Cantonese word for prawn (ha) and laughter (ha-ha seew).

Findings: It was a great meal to share with close family and friends -- I look forward to the bright reds and golds during this time of the year. It was especially wonderful this year because I took the time to ask my family and research online about the High Holiday's history, meanings, symbolism, etc. I have a greater appreciation of my family's culture and traditions, and I hope that I'll be able to carry on all of these good omens when it's my generation's turn to host these events together.

On a completely separate but coincidental note, this is my 88th post on Four Tines and a Napkin! What a great omen to start the new year, as 8s are good omens for the Chinese!

Toasts | dedication to Auntie Wynnie

This post is dedicated to 九姑媽, my Auntie Wynnie. I've mentioned her before in my introductory "About Me" post as the woman who knew I was a foodie before I did! I'd like to thank her for always being there for me, for always encouraging me to believe in myself and to pursue what means the most to me, and for showing me the meaning behind Bennett Cerf's wise words:

“A person who can bring the spirit of laughter into a room is indeed blessed.”

Me and Auntie Wynnie at my graduation party, May 2009.

She lived a fulfilling, happy, and enjoyable life. She loved to ski, golf, laugh, and tell stories -- she always lit up a room and was always excited to see you. There were never any awkward silences with her because the minute any came around, she'd make a joke or check what was new with you. She was so full of life and had the biggest appetite for a gigantic bowl of ice cream.

It has been a year since I had to say goodbye to her. I miss her very much, and I'm thinking of her always. She always used to tease me about how I love food so much and that my stomach is always yearning for me. She wasn't totally off--food is always on my mind, and I wish she had been able to read about the adventures I started publicly sharing in the blogosphere.

I read this last year at her memorial service, and I feel like it would make for a nice closing touch to this dedication. It's a poem entitled "i carry your heart with me" written by ee cummings. So here's to you, Auntie Wynnie, whose heart I'll carry with me always, whose love gave me the courage to get through so many hardships, whose kindness always showed that family didn't end at the bloodline. I see your spirit every day when I hear someone laughing and smiling. We all miss you very much.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Toasts | Kai Ma's 50th Birthday

Just wanted to wish my godmother (I call her "Kai Ma" in Cantonese) a very, very happy fiftieth birthday today on 10.10.10! She's one of the most generous, hospitable, encouraging, and kindest people I know, and I'm very thankful to have known her my whole life! Happy birthday, Kai Ma--so glad my mom and I could come all the way to Chicago to celebrate it with you! Love you always!

From left to right: me, my mom, Kai Ma, Laura (my godsister), and Kai Yeh (my godfather--the photographer here!) celebrating Kai Ma's 50th birthday at Grant Achatz's Alinea in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago! Blog post about this gastronomic adventure is on its way, I promise!

From left to right: me, Laura, Kai Ma's mom, Kai Ma, my mom, and Kai Yeh picking up the whole roast pig and soy sauce chickens from Chinatown's BBQ King House in Chicago earlier today for her big celebration tonight! From what I've tasted, both are very delicious! The Chinese believe that serving a whole roast pig is a good omen--the harmony of the "whole". Another good omen is to serve whole chickens, which symbolizes a proper beginning and end to the year as well as the wholeness of life on earth.

Happy Birthday, Kai Ma :] excited to celebrate with you, your family, and your close friends tonight!