Vittal Shetty, corporate chef for the Bay Area’s Amber India restaurants, loves the simplicity and versatiliy of this coconut shrimp curry dish.
Redolent of tamarind, chilies, garlic, cumin seeds, tomatoes, and coconut milk, it cooks in a flash. Best yet, the curry paste can be made in large batches, then frozen in smaller quantities. That way, you’ll always have some on hand to use with most any seafood.
Want to make New Year’s Eve extra special?
Then, serve one of mixologist Scott Beattie’s incredibly creative, incredibly satisfying cocktails. When he helped open the posh Healdsburg restaurant, Cyrus, Beattie created a whole menu of irresistible cocktails made with artisan liquors, heirloom produce, fresh herbs, and unique housemade garnishes.
My husband and I were lucky enough to nab a seat at the elegant, serene bar one evening when Beattie was there, mixing the cocktail concoctions, himself. I remember a gentleman sitting a few seats away, who took his first sip of Beattie’s glorious Autumn Apple cocktail. The man leaned back in his chair with a dreamy look on his face. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he declared.
When my husband ordered one, and we each took our first sip, we knew what he meant immediately. It was the freshest tasting, and most balanced cocktail I’d ever had.
Sort of. Kind of.
When it comes to persimmons anyways.
You see, I was never a persimmon fan until I reached adulthood. As a child, though, I remember my late-Mom having baskets of persimmons all over the kitchen and dining room at this time of year. They were the acorn-shaped Hachiya variety, the ones that are bitter and nasty astringent if eaten unripe. You had to wait patiently, to be rewarded when they turned soft and sweet like summer apricots. And my Mom was nothing if not patient.
I, on the other hand, admit to enjoying more instant gratification at times. Plus, as a kid, there was something so horror flick-like about watching fruit get more and more gushy before you ate it out of hand, the sticky flesh smeared all over your fingers. “Attack of the Strange Orange Fruit,” anyone? It was enough to give you the heebie-jeebies.
Now that I can appreciate persimmons, though, I prefer the squatty Fuyu. After all, with this type, there’s no waiting. You eat it when it’s still firm and crisp. My kind of persimmon.
I love it in salads. The orange color lends a jewel-like contrast to leaves of bitter greens tossed with toasted walnuts. Or enjoy them with the heat of ginger in this salad from “The Breakaway Cook” (William Morrow) by San Franciscan Eric Gower, who lived in Japan for 15 years.
A heap of minced fresh ginger (1/4 cup!!) is softened in a little butter, maple syrup and champagne vinegar, then poured over Fuyu slices. It’s as simple as that. The sweet burn of fresh ginger pairs harmoniously with the sweetness of the Fuyus. If you dress the persimmons earlier in the day, then refrigerate them until serving later that night, the fruit will soften a bit, for those who like their Fuyus a little less crisp.
For my brother Dale and I, Chinese sticky rice has been both the hallmark and the bane of the Thanksgivings each of us has hosted over the years.
This traditional dish of glutinous rice studded with salty dried shrimp, slices of fatty Chinese sausage, earthy shiitakes, and crunchy bits of water chestnuts has been a staple at our family’s Thanksgivings since I can remember.
But the sticky rice also has proved, well, a sticking point. You see, try as we might, for years he and I could never make sticky rice that proved up to snuff for our Mom.
My late-Mom took pride in all that she did, and was quite the perfectionist. When she sewed, if a stitch was at all crooked, she’d rip it out and start over. When I used to sew as a teenager, I was less fastidious. I remember times when an inner seam might turn out a little less than straight, and I’d tell her, “Nobody will ever see it.” She’d give me that look, which basically said, “Yes, but you will know it’s crooked. You will know you did not do it as best you could.” All it took was that look, and the next thing I knew, I’d be ripping out the thread to redo it.
Of course, with a rice cooker full of steaming sticky rice cooking away, it’s a little harder to rip things out and start over.
Still, even as a child, I remember my Mom anxious over the outcome of the sticky rice. It was always made in the big rice cooker, not the smaller one we used for everyday meals. She’d peer into the rice cooker now and then to stir the contents or to monitor its progress. She’d fret if it wasn’t cooking as fast as it should. She’d sigh if it started sticking on the bottom of the inner pot.
Who knew rice could be so nerve-wracking?
Let me just say right off: I am not fond of pumpkin pie.
I know this makes no sense, but I thoroughly love pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin ice cream, and pumpkin cheesecake. Just not pie.
Don’t get me wrong, I love pie in general. But there’s just something that turns me off about pumpkin pie. Too much of a one-dimensional flabby texture? Perhaps. All I know is that if pumpkin pie is the only option for dessert, I’d rather go without. And for a dessert lover like me, that’s saying a lot.
Yet I love the drama and festiveness of a big, beautiful dessert decked out in the color of fall. So that’s why I was thrilled to find this extraordinary cheesecake recipe by renowned New York Pastry Chef Pichet Ong, a University of California at Berkeley grad, who has worked at Chez Panisse in Berkeley and La Folie in San Francisco, as well as Jean Georges, and Spice Market, both New York restaurants owned by celebrated Chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Ong now is chef and owner of P*ONG, a cutting-edge dessert spot in New York City, where his creations fuse both the sweet and the savory.
His recipe for Kabocha Squash Cheesecake with Walnut Crust comes from his cookbook, “The Sweet Spot” (William Morrow). No pumpkin here; only kabocha squash. Also known as Japanese pumpkin, it’s probably most familiar to you as a component in assorted Japanese tempura. I don’t know about you, but the orange curve of golden-battered squash in the mound of fried veggies and shrimp is the tempura piece I covet most.
I love its natural honeyed, nutty sweetness, and its fluffy, starchy texture that’s like roasted chestnuts or a roasted russet potato.