Chilling in Iceland (Part 1): Eating Our Way through Reykjavik

We just got back from Iceland and I really don't want blogging this trip to fall through the cracks (like Japan and Taiwan, sadly!), so here is one post to kick off a series!  Seven days was a good amount of time to thoroughly explore the southern coast and a little bit of the Northwest in our trusty rental car.  Since we flew in on a redeye and landed at 8 in the morning, it was most ideal to "chill" (quit literally) in Reykjavik for that first day.  Our pilot had said that the winds were blowing at 45 mph - we believed him the minute we stepped outside.  The wind whipped our car rental papers out of Wes's pocket and my straw was almost instantly expelled from my drink.  It was hell trying to find our car in the car lot; we clicked the alarm button while frantically pacing the rows of cars while being sorely clobbered by the weather.  Thank goodness we decided to change into all of our winter clothes in the airport bathrooms first.

The drive to Reykjavik from Keflavik Airport was a wild ride - a great preview of what to expect from this untamed country.  Our tires gripped the road while snow and rain swirled in huge torrents all around us.  We had been making weekly trips to the mountains for snowboarding in December and January, and we totally froze or faces off in Mammoth, but we surely have never experienced wind this wicked (this is why people never use umbrellas in Iceland - they'd be blown straightaway)!  At least this was just the jolt that we needed; sensory input was at an all-time low over the past fourteen hours of travel.  No longer sleepy and sluggish, we were ready to explore the world's northernmost capital city!

Taiwan: The Good, The Gritty, and The Greasy

We came to Taiwan hungry, and left, still hungry.  While Taiwan is no more than a tiny scrap of land on the world atlas with mainly Chinese inhabitants, it overflows with culinary, topographical, and generational diversity that could take an eternity to explore.  It's gritty and it's lush, it's chaotic and it's pristine, it's bold and it's unassuming, all at the same time.  We were only there for four days, so we stuck to the northern area, visiting as many districts as we could - both metropolitan and rural.  The appeal of the busy night markets was irresistible, but so were the small winding mountainous roads that led off the beaten path.  We also were able to connect with family and enjoy a hearty, homecooked meal.  It had been ten years since I've returned, and this was Wes's first time.  Hopefully, it won't take another decade for us to come back.

Just wanted to take a moment to record our first memory together in my native land.  Twenty hours of travel took us to the sweaty tarmac of Taoyuan International Airport at 8:30 PM.  We got through customs and claimed our baggage through a whirlwind of colored Nikes and bobbling stuffed animals chained to backpacks, suitcases, and phone cases.  Then, it was time to figure out how to get to our hotel in Taipei.  I confidently walked up to customer service and asked in my somewhat Americanized accent how to get to our hotel.  This customer service man was very kind and assured us that he had a good way.  While Wes stood there helplessly (for once), the man made a phone call and then beckoned us to follow him.  We dragged our luggage behind us down an escalator and through more colored Nikes and were met by this middle-aged lady, who was wearing an outfit that would typically be associated with ill-suited hiking clothes in America.  She rapidly walked us out to a pick-up area and wordlessly ushered us into this black Mercedes, driven by a dude who talked and looked like he could have been one of my uncles.  Wes said later that he felt like we were part of some kind of spy movie, being handed off from agent to agent.  He was probably so confused... but honestly, so was I.  This was definitely the weirdest thing ever.  Then, our driver sped onto the freeway and after I had conversed with him for a while about Taiwan travel, he answered his cell phone and of course began to chat, holding the phone in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, zooming through about ten freeway exits.  We actually got to the hotel in one piece and ended up paying a fraction of what we thought this "luxurious" ride would cost.  Talk about our first culture shock!

Anyway, we were in for many more surprises.  Those wacky left turns in the taxis.  The lack of regard for pedestrians...until the last minute. Makeshift kitchens selling food anywhere, anytime.  All the shameless selfies we witnessed.  Swarms of motorcycles with entire families aboard.  The tinkling garbage truck song.  Men in business attire picking up daily cups of soy milk as Americans would at a Starbucks.  Starbucks being the hip hang-out spots for young people--not a single laptop in sight.  DIY hot pot stations at all of the 7-11's.  The four-story Din Tai Fung.  The twelve-story shopping mall.  A simple metal ladder that bridged two cliffs near the very top of an all-too-exhilarating hike.

Of course, we took thousands of pictures of everything (edibles and non-edibles alike), but here are just some of them.  I paired them to really bring out how dichotomous our experience was in this little big country.  At some point in time, we will get around to posting about each awesome day!

Don't Hurry Your Curry!

When we'd get the cravings for curry rice, I used to always default to using curry blocks (yup, those cakey brown squares that stain your fingertips and plastic tupperware with that telltale neon yellow turmeric color).  Then, one day when I had already practically committed to making curry (cut all the potatoes and peeled the carrots, defrosted the chicken thighs, sliced the onions), I realized that I had run out of the blocks.  You could imagine how annoyed I was when I opened the cabinet and see that there were none left.  Too late to run to an Asian market, I quickly searched for a Japanese curry recipe online and found that I had almost everything needed to make my own "blocks" from scratch, or more properly termed, "roux."  It does take a little more time than simply peeling open a carton of the blocks and dunking the blocks into the pot, but this process allows so much more control over the flavor and ingredients.  I've long since stopped stocking up on those mass-produced MSG-laden things and started making my own roux with curry powder.

Still not quite at the point where I grind my own curry powder, but I have used different kinds to make the same recipe, including the commonly-used yellow kind that you can get from Costco, and this new fiery-orange one that my brother brought back from Singapore.  I will attempt a more pure form of Singaporean curry using coconut milk and lemongrass another time, but for now, here is a recipe for Japanese curry from scratch!

Lunar New Year - Homemade Roast Pork and Almond Cookies

When the Wongs toted that crispy brown whole roasted pig through the Chiu family front door last May for our engagement party, they had no idea that they would be enlightening their future in-laws to a new level of pork.  Audibly crackly skin over juicy layers, the fragrance of five spice and white pepper mixed with that thick savory-sweet dipping sauce, bits and pieces of meat flying from the cleaver after each bang to the cutting board--it was definitely an unforgettable affair for the five senses.  The Chius are accustomed to having pork stir-fried, stewed, or braised.  Cantonese style roasted pork (not to mention the whole beast with the head and all four legs intact) was kind of phenomenal.

So, for our first Lunar New Year as a married couple, Mama Chiu requested a couple of pounds of roasted pork to go with the other things that she would be preparing for our family feast, just as a treat.  Unfortunately, obtaining roasted pork on the Lunar New Year is somewhat like buying ham from HoneyBaked on Christmas Eve, except with voracious Chinese ladies and no pre-order-for-pick-up option.  Plus, all the nice, juicy belly parts would most likely be claimed already.

Therefore, to eliminate the hassle, Wes decided to just make it himself (which to me, seemed like an even bigger hassle).  To him, it was going to be a fun challenge, as neither of us have ever done it before.  He found and followed this recipe and it turned out really well!  I also made some Chinese almond cookies using this recipe, and those were also a hit - especially with Grandma, who hijacked almost half the batch in one fell swoop.

How To Impress Your Man - Taiwanese Oxtail Noodle Soup

One day in 2012, Wes handed me a key to his bachelor pad.  He didn't make a big fuss out of it, but there had to have been some intent behind the act of walking up to the key copier at the Chinese supermarket and surrendering his key at the counter, with thoughts of doom on repeat in his head.  Soon after that happened, I made a trip to the same Chinese supermarket myself, on a mission of my own.  I wanted to validate his action.  So, I pulled out my good-potential-wife secret weapon: niu rou mian (牛肉麵), Taiwanese braised beef noodle soup.  My mom has been making it for as long as I can remember, I swear that the aroma can make any bad day a good one.  Secretly, I gathered my ingredients and brought them all to Wes's kitchen while he was still at work.  I was afraid that the stew would not be flavorful enough compared to all the beef noodles he has eaten at those many Chinese restaurants in the SGV. Thankfully, all went well and Wes hasn't been opposed to eating it now and again.  And I guess he hasn't been opposed to marrying me - looks like my mother's recipe sealed the deal.

Update 11/16/2020: I called my mom and asked her for some details, as she has been making this a lot recently with the pandemic and all.  I refined the recipe that I had before based on her specifications when I made this again for dinner tonight!

Meat-and-Potatoes Kind of Dinner

People always ask us if we saved the top tier of our wedding cake to eat on our anniversary.  The answer is no.  First of all, I (Marilyn) will be out of the country on our first anniversary.  Second, and more pertinently, we simply have no space to waste on old cake with Wes's habit of incessantly picking up pounds upon pounds of protein from the market or Costco every time he sees a good deal or an irresistibly beautiful marbled piece of meat, which happens a lot more frequently than you would think.  The good thing is, we always have something available to host last-minute dinners or to bring to unforeseen potlucks.  So, when Grace and Thomas came to visit us in Pasadena, we promptly removed one select porterhouse and one prime New York steak from our meat library.  We needed to clear space for some fresh loaves of bread from Schat's Bakery anyway, which we were inevitably going to visit during our upcoming trip to Mammoth.

Wes allowed the steak to dry out for just a day in the refrigerator, uncovered.  A quick pre-sear on the patio and a 3.5-mile hike at Eaton Canyon later, the steaks were cooked sous-vide to a tender medium rare and ready to be torched and served.  Wes also baked some blistered rainbow potatoes while I whipped up some maple balsamic brussels sprouts and a salad with from-scratch dressing.  It was a nice, hearty dinner which we didn't have to put all that much thought into.  Now, what we did save from our wedding was: wine.  Since we were able to bring our own, we overcompensated and ended up with a few extra cases of red, white, and rose--perfect for times like this!  We had a bottle of red between the four of us and polished off every last bit of food.  It was an ideal ending to a fun day!

Chasing the Snow

I lived the first six years of my life in Long Island, New York.  A vivid jumble of loose memories gather in the back of my head from those early years - chicken McNuggets dipped in honey, the soaring steeple of a familiar church at the base of a sloping road, the pine Christmas tree at my preschool, the steel rodded spinning platform and chipped wooden see-saws at the playground, and of course, snow.  Drifting to the ground through the bay window, coating the stout bushes surrounding the lawn, obscuring the Power Ranger house in the school yard.  It was nothing but magical to me.  When I came to California, I initially wondered if there would be snow here, but I basically forgot about it and moved on.  As for Wes, an LA native, snow was always associated with winter sports.  It wasn't a backyard occurrence and if there was a large amount of it, it would most likely have been man-made.

Last weekend, the two of us went up to Big Bear.  Along with throngs of snowboarders and skiiers, we wanted to experience the culmination of the week's El Niño storms in full force, since neither of us have gone snowboarding in real, a hundred percent heaven-sent snow.  As we drove to the base of the mountain, our GPS directed us to the back route, where supposedly there would be less traffic, but more ice.  Glad that we went this way - the scenery was stunning.  It seemed like we had crossed this imaginary line, where brown ended and white began.  I was immediately taken back to Long Island.  Seeing thickly padded snow on tree branches, roadsides, rooftops, and street signs felt different and more nostalgic than simply seeing snow on the slopes.  I was so excited that I took a bunch of pictures on my phone.  Wes was focused on keeping the car from sliding out from under us, but he was able to appreciate with what mental and emotional devices he could muster at the time.

Hainan Chicken Under Pressure

Still riding on his success with the St. Louis style ribs, Wes decides that he wants to attempt the unknown: Hainan chicken in the Instant Pot pressure cooker.  We love Hainan chicken rice.  Wes used to buy the cold boxed version from Phoenix Food Boutique as his go-to weekend bachelor meal.  We took two orders from Savoy Kitchen to-go on the day of our engagement photoshoot; I ate it in the car with my curled hair and manicured fingernails.  Wes's mom would make heaps of the ginger sauce for us to take home when we stopped by.  This dish is one of the rare exceptions to our rule of never duplicating orders when we eat together.  With Hainan chicken rice, we each get our own, with extra ginger sauce on the side.   There's something about the simplicity of it that makes it so craveable.

We have made Hainan chicken at home before, using the sous vide method and two chicken leg quarters.  This time, though, Wes brought home a whole chicken.  He's always trying to make a statement with his food, but I guess I'm not complaining.  We had everything else on hand already, and by "everything else," I mean like three other ingredients.  It wasn't complicated at all and turned out great!  Wes plated it restaurant-style, and we totally dived into it like fiends after the photos were taken.  We broke our rule and had to share it this time, but there was more than plenty to go around, and we didn't have to trouble a waiter for more ginger sauce.

A Pot that Exceeded My Expectations - St. Louis Style Ribs

I never cave to Wes's random urges to purchase the latest gadgets and shiny new toys, even if they are kitchen gadgets and cooking toys.  I like my wok and wooden paddle and I barely know how to operate half the things in our place, whether it is the patio grill or the waffle maker.  It's half my embarrassment of the consumeristic indulgence of it all and half fear of feeling more and more clueless in my own kitchen.  But anyway, Wes decides on Black Friday that he really wants to have an Instant Pot pressure cooker.  And of course, I rejected the idea without even finding out what the contraption did.  The reason I actually typed in my credit card numbers and clicked "Place Order" was that Wes gave in and stopped bugging me about it.  I was impressed with his self-restraint and wanted to reward him.  Or maybe it's because I knew that with a chef like him around, there's no way we can't win with a new piece of kitchen equipment.

Latkes and the Like

We'd never made latkes before, but I randomly thought that it would be fun to try making them for brunch since Hanukkah had just passed and fried potatoes on a Sunday morning sounded like a pretty good idea.  Traditionally, latkes are eaten to commemorate the small bit of olive oil that miraculously lasted for eight days when the menorah was lit during the rededication of the Temple of Jerusalem. The first latkes were not necessarily made with potatoes, though.  The Jews fried whatever they could find in olive oil to celebrate Hanukkah.  Likewise, we fried a few different things - Russett potatoes, yams, and zucchini.

Nowadays, latkes are often enjoyed with sour cream and apple sauce.  I made yogurt-based toppings and chopped a fresh apple to make apple sauce, rather than getting sour cream and Mott's.  Wes also hand-packed and seasoned a few lamb patties and fried a couple of eggs to complete the spread!