Kurut

Kurut

It hails from the Middle East and Central Asia. It has many names. Qurut, quroot, koort, kashk, yazdie, aruul. Hard as a frozen jawbreaker and smelling of combinations of sour feet and funkified parmesan, these golf ball sized lumps of dried cheese curds are made by boiling milk down to a thick paste, then hand formed and dried in the sun as a means of preservation.

My sister and I stumbled upon these strange rocks in a market at Brighton Beach. The guy working there said they are eaten as is as a snack food. Sampling a chip in its dried form, the taste is saltier than a naval ship. A salty sour chalky jaw-busting pungent naval ship.

The kurut sat on my kitchen counter, as I try to figure how to make it more palatable. I soaked the curds in a bowl of water for about 18 hours and then simmered them for 20 minutes. The kurut held its shape and was much easier to nibble on, though the center was still a bit stiff. The soaking did help in taking some of the funky salty edge off, but the hot water treatment made my apartment smell like unwashed socks for two days.

forgotten dream coming back to haunt

I finally finished unpacking my last box from moving into my apartment and found a piece of paper with a long forgotten dream hastily scribbled on it. I can’t believe I didn’t put a date on it, nor did I write down any more details on the Asian woman, the two victims, the cars, and the surroundings. I don’t remember how I made my escape from the black hole horror. Judging by the text on the meditation lecture flyer the dream was scribbled on, I’m guessing the date was sometime in spring of 2005.

undated dream
Dark outline of a shadowy figure was sucking my non-earthly body (soul? spirit?) into her humanoid-shaped black hole. She was an Asian woman who revealed her true nature as a black hole that sucks people in. I reacted by concentrating on my center*, putting all my power into it, and stood strong on my ground while holding on the back of a car for leverage. She successfully sucked two other people in. She tried again to suck me into her black hole. And again I ‘centered’ myself and held on for dear life on another car. I could feel the magnetic pull. It was scary. But I successfully avoided getting swallowed up by the evil black hole.

I was in an elevator going down. I was afraid for some reason that the elevator was going to malfunction and the car will plummet down the shaft. I crouched down on the floor, preparing for impact in the event the cable snapped. It didn’t. I seem to have an extreme fear of elevators.

* It’s an aikido thing.

Sometimes it freaks me out to see how my forgotten dreams from long ago manifest themselves in my waking reality years later.

P.S.: Just because someone with a bad mullet offers you free Kool Aid, it doesn’t mean you should drink it.

[originally published on LiveJournal]

global food crisis

I had a dream many years ago (a time before white hairs crept in like ninjas) where I’m in the future and found myself in the middle of a global food shortage crisis. The crisis was so bad that people resorted to cannibalism. I walked into a white well-lit room with a large metal table inside. On the table was a dismembered human male torso cut open butterfly style. I think the liver and kidneys sitting by the torso were human. Haggis anyone? Human leg shanks were neatly hung on meat hooks suspended from a ceiling rack. I ran out of the room and scrambled to look for an exit from this terrifying meat processing plant. A cloud of white mist noticed me running and immediately gave chase. The mist closing in on me was the last thing I remember before waking up.

I couldn’t forget a dream like that.

Why am I not surprised when something like this shit would happen?

Courage!

After some tinkering, I believe I have successfully recreated that excellent drink based on the Courage coffee drink from ‘Rice to Riches‘. ‘Courage’ is a chocolate orange espresso drink with a spicy kick. My version is a bit healthier since it has no sugar and no saturated fat when using a plant-based milk.

To recreate the Courage drink, you will need:

  • a teaspoon of unsweetened cocoa powder
  • a shot or two of espresso
  • 2 to 3 (2-inch) orange rind strips
  • 2 dried red chilies (More or less according to taste. I like mine extra spicy, so I use 3. You may roughly tear them up to maximize the kick at the back of your throat.)
  • about 12 oz. milk (I like almond milk, but you can use skim, whole, soy, or whatever you have on hand)

1) Put the chilies, orange rind strips, and milk in a saucepan. Bring to a simmer over high heat. Remove from heat and steep for 10-15 minutes.*

2) Mix the cocoa powder into the espresso.

3) Strain out the chilies and orange rind into a cup. Add the espresso cocoa mix and stir.

4) Enjoy.**

*When I’m in a hurry to catch the morning train, I just dump the contents of the saucepan into a travel mug, add the espresso and cocoa, and let it steep like tea that way. A spill proof mug is great when I’m running for the bus. :p

**If you’re one of those namby pambies who couldn’t take coffee without sugar, go ahead and add the sugar, you effeminate punk.

[originally published on LiveJournal]

This is why Thai food is awesome. ;)

Curry is no way an English invention, no matter what cretin insists it’s so. Especially if he’s coming from a land where the cuisine is notoriously bland. How else can you explain them confusing a simple dipping sauce for a chemical attack?

That’s got to be some damn good chili when a hazmat team seals off your street.

Which reminds me of a time when a former tenant, an English woman, called up my mother to complain of a strange chemical or gas smell coming out of our kitchen. My mother was cooking Chinese food.

So, do you want to spark your own ‘terror alert’ incident? The recipe is included in the article right here.

[originally published on LiveJournal]

Nam prik pao

4 tbsp oil; 3 tbsp chopped garlic; 3 tbsp chopped shallots; 3 tbsp chopped dried red chillies; 1 tbsp fermented shrimp paste; 1 tbsp fish sauce; 2 tsp palm sugar

Heat the oil, add the garlic and shallots and fry briefly. Remove from oil and set aside. Add chillies and fry until they start to change colour. Remove and set aside. In a pestle and mortar, pound the shrimp paste, add the chillies, garlic and shallots. Over a low heat return all the ingredients to the oil, and fold into a uniform paste. The resulting thick, slightly oily red/black sauce will keep almost indefinitely. If you wish you can add more fish sauce and/or sugar to get the flavour you want.

spiced pecans!

I was trying to recreate this particular nut mix with the method from this recipe when I realized I’m out of maple syrup. So I had to make do with some Korean citron honey tea that was lying around. It worked out quite well and it did save me the trouble of zesting the orange.

Here’s what I did:

Take about 2 heaping teaspoons of the citron tea and mix in a little bit of warm water; just enough to make it into the consistency of maple syrup. Stir that into the pecans until well coated. Then mix in some fresh ground black pepper and a few pinches of ground cardamom. (Yeah, I know cardamom was not originally in the prepackaged kind, but I like it for the added kick.)

Spread the nuts on a foil-lined flat baking sheet in an even single layer and bake in a preheated 350o oven for 10–15 minutes. Stir and flip the nuts every 5 minutes. Before the last five minutes, stir in a handful of dried cranberries and continue baking until toasted and most of the liquid absorbed. Foil bits sticking to pecans doesn’t taste very good, so cool just long enough to handle and transfer the nuts into a container.

Yum.  ^_^

Recurring dreams

For two straight nights in a row, I’ve been having dreams of being inside a plane. I’m going on a trip. Joy, joy. I’m sitting in one of the cheap seats in the cabin waiting for the plane to take off. It was a full flight. As the plane started to move, I could feel the sensation of the plane going down the runway and taking off. I look out the window and see the sky. It’s blue and clear. The flight attendant tells me to buckle my belt. I do not remember the details nor the faces of the other passengers on the flight.

I know I was going somewhere, most likely out of the country. But I don’t know exactly where. Vancouver? Montreal? Am I going back to Japan? Perhaps I’m heading for Amsterdam this time? I’ve always wanted to visit Amsterdam. I leaned back into my seat and closed my eyes for a nap.

Then I woke up.