Insomnia blogging

This one is specifically for you, Jeanne.

It's 1:50am. I can't sleep. I've been awake for the last hour or two; I'm not quite sure since the minutes seem to click away so slowly when I'm struggling to get tired. I've gone to the bathroom, twice. I've tried to read my New Yorker. I've tried to find my sleeping pills. I've even cried a little at my frustration. All have been to no avail. And, I think what makes it worse is that I'm envious of how soundly Ian is sleeping next to me. It makes me want to poke him awake so he suffers with me too.

I suppose insomnia and having nothing else to do at nearly two in the morning, means I sit at my computer in the near dark, trying to catch up on weeks of unwritten blog entries, and describing the rather lovely day I had actually, even though now I am quietly struggling to fall asleep and am hating every second of it.

The day started nicely enough. After a morning jog in the warm sun, I had a breakfast of blue corn tortilla chips and guacamole, made by Ian with the avocados that we picked from my aunt's neighbor's house in LA. My mom made us take home a box full of unripe avocados when we visited a few weeks ago, and we've been waiting for them to grow dark and soft. Since we had been waiting for days on end with no signs of ripening, I almost forgot that we even had them until a few days ago when I found a whole bunch of them squishy. We've been very deliberately trying to incorporate them into our daily diet since then. Avocados on salads. Avocados on eggs. Avocados in kimchi quesadillas. And, today, avocados for breakfast in guacamole form.

As much as Ian and I joke that we're the same person, in terms of our habits on salting food, we are not the same. On some foods, I'm the salter; he's not (but, I will not be accused for being a salt fiend, since I'm not; I just like my food to taste good and believe that salt, in the proper amounts, helps make that happen). I asked for salt in the guacamole. He said there was already salt. Since it didn't seem like he wanted more salt and that it wouldn't particularly be the nicest thing to do to ask for separate bowl of guacamole where I could salt to my heart's content, I asked if we could be Tapatio in it instead. He said yes, and after my reserved dashing of the hot sauce, he asked if that was all I wanted. I told him no but thought that that was all he would want. He reached for the bottle and added more.

For lunch, I met Brynn at Park Chalet. The weather has been gorgeous and really warm, hot even, in San Francisco, and Brynn and I thought that we should take advantage of that, as well as the fact that both of us have more time on our hands now since we're not full-time workers, and enjoy the outdoors, the beach, and a cafe. I thought the Park Chalet would be perfect for that. She and I had a slow, leisurely lunch on the shaded patio, where we had the chance to catch up on our lives, our jobs, our relationships. I had a burger and fries with the California Kind beer, all of which was decent but not spectacular. I was surprised at home many people there were though. Brynn and I spent almost three hours there, and it felt like more and more people kept coming. But, with so few gloriously warm and wind-free days in San Francisco, I suppose it shouldn't be surprising that people would want to enjoy a beer on the grassy lawn.

I took Brynn home and got back to my place just in time for Winnie to pick me up to go volunteer again for Jane Kim, who is running for district superviser in San Francisco. After making calls to local voters, asking who they were supporting, and if they would support Jane, we had a snack of cold pizza, leftovers from the day before, that was fed to the volunteers. I actually kinda like cold pizza, so no complaints from me about that.

And, I ended the day at Zeitgeist, the quintessential bar for a warm San Francisco night. Billy's college roommate was hosting a celebration there for selling his screenplay. Since Winnie and I were just down the street, there was no real reason why we wouldn't go for at least a little while. And, it was lovely, or as lovely as a biker bar with outdoor port-a-potties can be. The outdoor patio was full, but we were able to snag an almost empty bench (there was this couple super making-out at one end of the bench). I had a a Hefeweizen, Billy had a Chimay, Winnie had water, and Ian, who met us, had a veggie burger. It was nice to catch up with Billy though we didn't stay too long and only had a brief moment to congratulate his friend.

Overall, a pretty nice day. I only wish it had a better ending.

Making a meal out of nothing

Being unemployed and extra frugal is making me rethink my eating habits. Particularly, I feel like I absolutely need to not waste a single edible thing in my house (I've been pretty good at not being wasteful before but now it's been taken to a whole new level) and be more clever with food I already have in the fridge or in the cupboards. And, quite honestly, I'm not actually sure what I have in the house; I feel like there are things in the cupboards and freezer that have been there for years.

Today, after coming back from coffee with Karen and Andy (Karen kindly bought me a deliciously rich and caramel-y latte from the Blue Bottle kiosk), I was hungry and I thought I had nothing to eat at the house. So, I rummaged. There was an almost empty box of macaroni noodles, half a can of sardines from a leftover salad earlier in the week, a tomato that should've been eaten a days ago, a jar of Kalamata olives in the back of the refrigerator, a red onion, some garlic. Totally enough to make lunch.

I got some water boiling for the noodles. As that boiled away, I diced half the red onion and tomato, sliced the garlic thin, and chopped a small handful of olives. I sauteed the onion over low heat in olive oil, then added the garlic, threw in the tomato, and smushed the sardines in the pan. I added some water from the pot to give it more of a saucey consistency. Then, I tossed in the olives and stirred. When the noodles were cooked, I dumped them into the pan, gave it all a quick toss with some salt and pepper, and scooped it into my waiting bowl. After drizzling some olive oil over the top, I took my fork to it and ate. It wasn't bad, kinda good actually. It smelled of fish though, but I suppose that's what I get for cooking sardines. It might have been better with some fresh herbs, a squeeze of lemon, or maybe some capers. But, overall, it was totally more than edible.

Vietnamese noodle salad

I had been an awful community gardener for the last year. I was negligent and left my little plot relatively untended for months. Michael, the man in charge of the garden, had called me twice in the last year to ask if I still wanted my plot, since it had been overgrown with weeds and showed obvious signs of my neglect. Each time, I would proclaim, "Oh, I'm so sorry! Yes, I still want it! I've been out of town! I've been busy! I'll take care of it right away!" And, of course I still wanted it. I waited almost two years for that piece of dirt the size of a queen mattress; it was prized property!

So, this summer, I needed to prove that I was a committed gardener. I planted twelve lettuce plants, three strawberry ones, one eggplant, six beets, and a handful of radishes. The eggplant is looking sad, and I should probably dig it up and put in something new in its place. The beets are showing signs of great promise. I was really excited by the progress of the radishes, but two days ago I found most of them gone, vanished, probably eaten by someone or something. (There were no signs of gophers and I highly doubt that a fellow gardener would dig them up, so I was really confused. Then, Michael told me that another gardener found homeless people sleeping in the garden's patio. Perhaps they were hungry for radishes?) I was disappointed about my radishes.

But, my lettuces have been doing great, a little too prolific really. But, seriously, what was I thinking? Why would I need so much lettuce? Twelve heads for one person? I had the same problem last year with too much lettuce, way too much for one girl to eat. Why didn't I learn? Why was I stupid again? I tried offering some to my fellow gardeners but they wouldn't take me up on it--they had their own lettuce abundance. So, I've been sticking lettuce wherever I can: stuffed in hummus sandwiches, giant salads as meals, small salads with meals. I'm getting tired of lettuce.

Then, I thought: Vietnamese noodle salad! It would be the perfect use for some of that lettuce, it's incredibly flavorful, and low on calories (I've also put on eight pounds since I started grad school and want to get rid of them again). I love eating this at restaurants and my mom would make it occasionally. And, it's super easy to make: you just toss all the veggies, rice noodles, and whatever protein you want with a spicy, tangy, salty sauce. The problem was the sauce; I had never known how to make it. My mom would ask me to make it sometimes, I would ask her how, and she would be like, "You know, just add some lemon, garlic, fish sauce, sugar, and water to taste." Then, after tasting it, she would make a face that said "Ew, gross! No way are you a daughter of mine!" and adjust the flavors. I don't know why I never thought to look up the recipe before. But, this time, I did, and it all turned out great.

And, you can do it too. Here goes:

For the nuoc cham (the Vietnamese dipping sauce) you'll need:
1 clove minced garlic
2 dried red chiles chopped fine
one generous squeeze of hot sauce (Sriracha from my hometown!)
2/3 cup water
1/4 cup fish sauce
juice of one lime
a little less than 1/4 cup sugar

Put all of those ingredients in a jar, put the lid on, and shake. Done. Easy.

As for the other parts, it's just as easy. Cook up some rice noodles. Chop some lettuce. Gather some crunchy vegetables (I used mung bean sprouts and a shredded carrot) and fresh herbs (I picked mint from the community garden and used some leftover cilantro). Cook up some shrimp (or whatever other protein) that were marinating in more lime juice, fish sauce, and garlic. Then, toss the noodles, lettuce, veggies, and herb in the sauce, and top with shrimp. Eat.

It is embarrassingly easy to make. And, when Scott's dinner date came by the house and was impressed with my dinner, how great it made the house smell, and how awesome it looked, I had to admit that it was stupidly simple but so delicious.

The unemployed life

I quit my job almost a year ago to study education policy. Now, with a newly minted master's degree, I'm sitting in my living room, unemployed. Friends have told me to enjoy the time off, to see the "fun-employment" period as a vacation, since I've been constantly busy--with full-time work for years, then graduate school, immediately followed by a summer fellowship--and rarely took time off. But, as much as I want to enjoy having much more time on my hands, it makes me nervous. Living in San Francisco is expensive, and I don't want to be one of those twenty-somethings who move back in with their parents. So I had been cutting back on lots of things I used to and still thoroughly enjoy, the most painful of which has been food--eating out, dining at nice restaurants, and cooking for friends.

But, I'm eager to not let this stint of non-work get me down and am viewing it as a time to be creative, to write again, to read again, to cook again--all things I used to do regularly before graduate school craziness got the better of me. And, because I'm stubborn and like a good challenge, I'm going to fight this no income thing and prove that you don't need tons (or any) money to eat well and enjoy it.

So, here's the start of a new season of Susan's Daily Eats: The Unemployed Life. As you might assume, it'll chronicle my unemployed eating and cooking habits.

By the way, if you know of anyone who wants to hire a tall, well-educated, Asian woman, please send him or her my way. Or, if you want to send food donations and invitations to meals my way, I'll gladly accept those too.

Final grad school day

I am officially done being a grad student. I submitted my last two papers today, 14 hours before they were due, and felt good being finished, though, admittedly, it all felt very anti-climatic. As I promised when I started my graduate program, I would get back to writing this blog when school was over. So, here it is. And, what better way to reacquaint myself with Susan's Daily Eats than to write about my final meals as a graduate student? It's actually amazing how embarrassing and slightly pathetic my meals were today.

I first need to start by saying that I've put on about eight pounds during the last nine months. One pound for almost each month of graduate school. I sometimes wonder how that was possible, but when I think about days like today I realize how very possible it is.

I started the morning healthy enough with yogurt, fruit, walnuts, and some Kashi Go Lean Crunch all mixed together. I had an early start to the day, read the paper as I ate, then started writing again. I had two more research articles to write about as well as a conclusion, then needed to edit. Though I knew what I needed to do, I took my sweet time. Write a little, check Facebook a little, write a little, check email a little. It's an easy way to while away the minutes.

Then, was I hungry again? Probably not but I wanted something salty and I didn't want to sit at my computer, even though I had only been attempting to write for probably two hours. I went downstairs and made myself two cheese quesadillas in the shape of half moons. They were simple, just cheese and Tapatio in between a folded corn tortilla, but perfectly satisfying. They were salty, spicy, fatty, and extra toasty. Some of the cheese also oozed out of the sides of the tortilla when cooking in the pan and formed a cheese chip that hung off the edge of the half moon; it was the best part.

Then, it was time to go back upstairs and sit in front of my computer again. The words were slow-going. I felt no pressure to finish, but I was envious of all the little kids having a birthday party outside my window and their parents who lounged in the shade. I tapped away at the keyboard.

I felt unsatisfied. Did I want to eat again? Yes. Back down in the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator to find a little bit of brown rice still left in a tupperware container. I poured the rice into a small bowl, heated it up in the microwave, sprinkled some Japanese rice seasoning over it, and ate again as I watched the kids outside jump in the inflatable house jumper thing (apparently, you can have one of these delivered to Stanford's graduate student housing if you're throwing a birthday party). Brown rice and Japanese rice seasoning has become one of my new favorite snacks. I also ate two Newman's Own Hint-o-Mint sandwich cookies since I needed something sweet.

Back upstairs, I finished my research paper and sent it off. Now, time to start my final reflection piece on my experience volunteering at a college outreach program in East Palo Alto. I actually had to finish soon since I had a movie date with Raja later in the evening. We had a 6:45pm movie to make. It was about 4pm. I typed away, thinking about the past several weeks with these students. 5:30 rolled around, and I figured I should eat before I met up with Raja. I headed back downstairs, made two more cheese quesadillas, and opened a bottle of Red Stripe. Beer will help the writing process, of course. Plus, it was a warm Sunday evening. I deserved one. And, of course, I finished that paper too and happily sent it off to very little fanfare. I was officially done with graduate school work, and had to a date to get to.

I absolutely adore Raja. She's so much fun to be with and it's so easy to just hang out with her. We were going to see Get Him to the Greek, which seemed both awful and perfect at the same time. But, with half an hour before the movie started, we had enough time to get a little food. After circling the downtown Redwood strip, we decided that Chipotle was our best option. I had a single beef taco with guacamole, lettuce, and salsa. The meat was surprisingly good.

At the movie theater, Raja bought popcorn and peanut M&M's. She said that I should eat them together. Of course, I did as Raja instructed, and it was a fantastic combination. Salty and sweet. It was like Cracker Jack but with chocolate instead of caramel. Sitting there, watching movie trailers, and shoving this strange combination of salty and sweet into my mouth, I was reminded of the bus ride Ian and I took on our way back to Beijing from the Great Wall. We were exhausted and hungry, and the only food we had left with us were crackers, dark chocolate flavored with chili, and crunchy, spicy peanuts. We put all those things together into one bite and were surprised at how good they were together. Back in Redwood City, I had the same revelation: peanuts, chocolate, and something crunchy and salty taste good together. We finished those M&M's and popcorn just a few minutes into the movie, and I was happy to be there, done with school, and enjoying summer.

Official hiatus

I'm making it official: I'm taking a break from writing. Well, I'm not really taking a break from writing. I'll be doing plenty of writing (and reading!) for graduate school, which has its first day of actual class tomorrow. Though I would love to write about all the wonderful culinary delights of Palo Alto and the rest of the South Bay, I think that being a good student will take precedence and will also take a fair number of my waking hours. So, Susan's Daily Eats will be taking a break. Hopefully, when I'm done with my program in mid-June, I'll go back to writing for non-academic reasons with more frequency.

Meyer lemon and rosemary shortbread cookies

I don't really consider myself much of a baker, though I have been known to bake up some tasty treats. To me, baking takes too much forethought to make it fun. Plus, all that precise measuring sucks even more fun out of it. For someone as slightly OCD as I can sometimes be, I am a little haphazard in my baking.

Recently though I've been thinking about shortbread cookies. It started with having one of those magnificent chocolate, fleur de sel ones from Miette Confiserie near my house. I've been wanting to recreate it, and Eleanor kindly sent me a recipe for chocolate shortbread cookies, which I still need to work on once I figure out the conversion from metric mass to non-metric volume.

Then, on Sunday, we went to Colin's mom's house in Burlingame, where we picked Meyer lemons and rosemary from the garden. I left with a giant bag of lemons (perfect for making limoncello, just as summer is nearing) and had the bright idea that Meyer lemon and rosemary would go together well in shortbread cookie form. I've never made shortbread cookies before and none of my cookbooks had a shortbread cookie recipe. But, Google gave me my answer. I went over multiple shortbread cookie recipes, found one that seemed simple enough, and got to work in the kitchen.

I followed the recipe exactly, with the addition of the lemon zest and chopped rosemary. The finished dough wasn't coming together and was all crumbly. I didn't quite know what to do. Should I add melted butter? That sounded gross. Ian suggested some water, which worked in pulling the dough together. I rolled the dough into a rectangular log, wrapped it in plastic, and stuck it in the refrigerator. Ian and I made cabbage pancakes and tofu for dinner, and ate while the cookie dough was chilling.

After dishes were done, I pulled the dough out, sliced it, and placed the slices on to two baking sheets lined with parchment paper. They went into the oven and cooked for a little while. Once done, we ate them. I didn't know how they were supposed to be, but these ones were buttery, crisp, and just barely sweet. I could taste the rosemary and wished that the Meyer lemon was more pronounced. But, overall, not bad for a first time shortbread cookie baking experiment. Ian took some cookies with him and I took the rest to school to share. The other counselors and some of the students thought they were great, heavenly even. Lauren asked me for the recipe, which I typed up for her. It follows.


Shortbread Cookies

2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup European style butter (Strauss Creamery butter for me)
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla

1. Sift flour, powdered sugar, cornstarch, and salt together. Put in a bowl.
2. Beat butter in a separate bowl until fluffy.
3. Gradually add sugar and vanilla to the butter.
4. Stir in the dry ingredients in three batches. Do no over mix.
5. Roll dough into a log and put in refrigerator for about 2 hours.
6. Pre-heat oven to 325 degrees. Slice dough into 1/3 inch slices. (I think I would have liked my cookies smaller.) Bake for 18 minutes, turning the trays once.
7. Let cookies cool until they are cool enough to not burn your fingers and mouth.
8. Eat.

A note: I added the zest of two Meyer lemons and maybe a teaspoon or so of chopped rosemary to my cookies. I think you can really add whatever you want to the basic recipe.

Peninsula and South Bay Adventure Day!

When I suggested to Eleanor that we reinstate weekend brunches, I didn't think it would turn into an all-day adventure touring around my possible new home, the South Bay. Somehow, though, it did.

The Sunday started off like many Sundays before. I met Colin and Eleanor at the Blue Bottle kiosk. Colin and I had frothy cappuccinos out of tiny brown mugs. Ben showed up shortly, still with crutches, and ordered coffee too. Tucked out of the rain, we caught up for a bit, finished our coffee, and walked over to Ben's car. We headed to Burlingame to have brunch at Alana's and then get some photos from Colin's mom's house.

At Alana's, Ben and I split the oatmeal pancakes with bananas and the Company's Coming, which was potatoes, sausage, cheddar and Provolone cheese, tomatoes, and scallions (we asked for no mushrooms), and topped with two poached eggs. Colin and Eleanor split a variation of the same two dishes. The oatmeal pancakes were as delicious as I last remembered them. They were light but substantial, incredibly tender but not mushy, and packed full of oats. With a little smudge of butter and maple syrup, they were fabulous. The Company's Coming was good too, especially as a nice salty balance to the sweetness of the pancakes. Ben didn't quite eat his share of food though and I couldn't eat it on top of what I had already eaten, so we left some pancake on our plate.

After the yummy brunch, we went to Colin's mom's house, where we looked at old photos of Colin, were mesmerized by and contemplated bees, and picked Meyer lemons. We then drove to San Mateo to do some shopping at the Japanese grocery store. I picked up some sesame oil, bonito flakes, and a box of sauce for eggplant.

At the market, Colin asked if we were getting hungry yet. At first, I thought it was ridiculous to be hungry again, since we only finished brunch about two hours earlier. But, when he asked, I could see how I wasn't as full as I expected to be. I told him that I could probably eat again. Ben said that he was easily swayed. We told Eleanor that we hadn't eaten at Santa Ramen before, and that settled it. We would eat again and eat noodles at Santa Ramen. But, after a quick phone call, we had a change of plans. Santa Ramen was closed until later in the evening. Eleanor was ready with a backup: Maru Ichi in Mountain View.

We got back into the car (Colin had a triangle of rice with pickled plum and wrapped in seaweed) and headed further south. Apparently, none of us had plans for our Sunday and were more than happy to drive for more food. Downtown Mountain View looked freakishly similar to downtown Burlingame, with the exception of the angle of the parking spaces that lined the sidewalk. I was surprised at how many Asians there were and all the Asian shops. I wasn't quite sure what to expect of downtown Mountain View since this was my first time there.

We made our way to Maru Ichi and sat down at a booth. Eleanor told us that we should order the Kuro Ramen, which has a black slick of oil on top. It sounded a little gross and a little weird, but tasted amazing. The oil was made with browned garlic, which was fragrant but not overpowering. And, surprisingly, for a bowl of soup with a layer of oil floating on top, the soup wasn't oily or heavy. Was it magic? I had no clue how they did it. Other highlights were the homemade noodles, which was chewy but tender. Too bad the noodle-making booth in the corner was lacking a noodle maker.

Eleanor had discovered this place in the back of a Japanese newspaper and had tried it on her ramen noodle extravaganza. It and Santa Ramen topped her list. I was glad to know of it too. And, I would be glad to share it with all my potential Stanford friends so that I could be the coolest kid at grad school. We also talked about Colin and Eleanor now having an excuse to either visit me in Palo Alto (if I do end up leaving my Hayes Valley house) or to visit the two ramen houses. Life wouldn't be so different if I had a little San Francisco respite.

As if we didn't see enough of the South Bay yet, we made one last stop in Palo Alto, in search of Keeble and Shuchat. Colin's iPhone battery died so we had to find it the old school way, with Google text. We had a problem though: we had no idea how to spell the name. After multiple text messages to Google and some driving around Palo Alto, we finally got the phone number and went way old school and made a phone call to ask for directions.

We were all exhausted by the time we left the camera store. As much fun as the South Bay was, I think the warm weather and all the food from the day was taking their toll on us. I was ready to head back to the City.

Post-run dim sum

When Billy, Winnie, and I get together for a run, we usually end up spending more time and energy eating than actually exercising. It was no different this time when we met up to do a 5K run for liver cancer and hepatitis B awareness in Golden Gate Park. We, along with Winnie's friend Tim, ran the race together through the rain and mud. We finished in about 30 minutes, a decent time though not great. I struggled a little bit with a hill and then a cramp, but I hit a stride just as we were nearing the end. I think I could have kept running.

Afterward, we were hungry and decided that dim sum was what we wanted. Nothing beats pork and shrimp and countless dumplings after a morning run. We made a stop at my house first. Tim took a bit of a nap on my couch, while Billy showered and then lied in my bed.

At Tim's suggestion, we went to Chinatown's Great Eastern Restaurant. I usually avoid Chinatown and have only ever had dim sum in Chinatown once. But, I was game to try a new place and possibly have a dim sum go-to in Chinatown. Winnie picked us up from my house, we navigated our way across the city, and found parking relatively easily.

Though were were four Chinese people, the folks at Great Eastern didn't give us the Chinese people treatment. We weren't asked what kind of tea we wanted; we were just given the pot of house tea. And, we were even given forks! Sure, we might have all be born in the US and, sure, our Cantonese isn't all that great, but we know how to use chopsticks. We blamed it on Winnie speaking to the hostess in English to get seated.

I took me a little while to realize that there were absolutely no dim sum carts and that we had to order everything off the menu. I have mixed feelings toward the menu system. Sure, you know what you'll be getting and don't have to anxiously eye carts that come around. But, they eying and the waiting is part of the fun, part of the leisurely activity that is dim sum. Plus, with the carts, you know when to say stop. With the menu system, I've noticed that my friends and I usually end up ordering way more food than we need or want. Our eyes are usually bigger than our stomachs.

That was the case this time too. We ordered tons of food and all the dishes that I grew up eating at dim sum: shrimp dumplings, chive dumplings, turnip cake, chicken feet, tripe, sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves, pork and mushroom dumplings, Shanghai dumplings, taro puff, ham siu gok (which translates to salty water corner), steamed rice noodles with shrimp, steamed rice noodles with barbequed pork, eggplant stuffed with shrimp, bell pepper stuffed with shrimp. At one point, there was no room on our little table for more plates and steam baskets. The women made faces at us. But, we worked our way through all the dishes and took two little boxes of food to go, which wasn't too bad considering all that we ordered for just four people.

Generally, the food was good. It wasn't greasy and the flavors were on spot. The taro puff was especially good though, as it tasted of taro and was crisp and light. The ham siu gok was also particularly good. If I were ever in Chinatown and had a hankering for dim sum, I would go here again. Winnie also ran into one of her former student's mom.

And, because we are that ridiculous, we stopped by Golden Gate Bakery for egg custard tarts on our way back to the car.

Hainanese chicken rice

Scott left for a three-week trip to Belgium today. As much as I like Scott, I also really like having the house all to myself. It means the usual absent-roommate activities happen: showering with the door open, walking around naked, listening to whatever music I want and turning the volume up, dancing for no apparent reason throughout the house, and doing yoga in the living room without feeling self-conscious. It also means that I use the kitchen more and cook meals more elaborate than my most recent staple of soba, tofu, and vegetables, even if it's just me eating.

Tonight, I made Hainanese chicken rice. For whatever reason, I've been thinking of this chicken and rice dish for the past several days. I remember not too long ago reading Mark Bittman's column about it and how the San Gabriel Valley--my San Gabriel Valley--is home to some of the best Hainanese chicken rice. That, coupled with the fact that I'm running out of freezer space because of all my homemade poultry stock and need to find ways to use it up, meant that chicken and rice would be dinner.

When I got home from the field trip to UC Berkeley and my walk to Whole Foods for a chicken, I defrosted a yogurt container of chicken stock and brought it to a boil with enough water to cover a chicken in my narrowest pot. I rubbed the whole chicken, both inside and out, with salt, and put some chopped ginger and garlic in its cavity. The chicken went into the pot of boiling liquid and boiled over medium heat for ten minutes. Then, I turned off the heat and went to do yoga in the living room.

After trying to hold poses and concentrating on my exhalations for about an hour, I went back to the kitchen and starting chopping. I made a ginger chile sauce for my chicken by blending Serano chiles, a lot of garlic and ginger, lime juice, sugar, salt, and water together. It was pungent; that is all I have to say about it.

I pulled the chicken out of the pot and let it cool down enough for me to handle with my bare hands. In the meantime, I got started on the rice. I sauteed some chopped shallots, garlic, and ginger in some vegetable oil. Then, I added two cups of rice and stirred that around for a bit. After, I transferred the rice to my rice cooker, added about four cups of chicken-cooking liquid, and let the rice cooker work its magic.

With the rice in the cooker, I shredded the chicken. Shredding the chicken might not be traditional, I didn't want to deal with having to pick through bone tomorrow as I'm eating the leftovers for lunch at school. I chopped up some green onions and a little more ginger. Then, I mixed the chicken, ginger, and green onions with some soy sauce, sesame oil, and salt. Again, this is not traditional for Hainanese chicken rice, but, as I was trying to figure out how to add more flavor to the dish, this made the most sense.

When the rice cooker clicked done, the rice inside was a light brown color and each grain was its own and soft without being mushy. I gave the rice a fluff, scooped a little bit out into a bowl, put some of the shredded chicken on top, and drizzled some of the pungent ginger chile sauce on top. Everything got mixed together and then went straight to my mouth. Though the dish probably no longer resembled the traditional style of Hainanese chicken rice, it was still mighty delicious.