My Cooking A sampling of improvisations. Risotto with homemade rabbit and chicken stock, shredded roasted bone in chicken thigh meat, cremini mushrooms, and local burrata. If only I had an Alba white truffle that day… Leftover no recipe Korean pear kalbi marinade I cooked down to a concentrated sauce for a healthy black rice and wood ear mushroom grain bowl lunch the next day. Braised pork shoulder with soffritto, fresh and canned tomato, red wine, fresh fennel and fennel seed, and enough anchovy so as not to need salt, perfect on a rainy autumn day in Los Angeles. What I loved most about what I did was finish it with orange zest. Gaeng om inspired soup with shrimp, cabbage, mushrooms, tomato, peas, kaffir lime leaf, chile, and, most importantly, to me, fresh dill. I started incorporating dill judiciously into my Thai cooking years ago when Lacha Somtum at the eastern edge of Los Angeles’ Thai Town opened and offered this northeastern regional dish I’d never heard of. (They no longer make it, sadly.) This is like my therapeutic salad in broth, it’s forgiving and soothing. Anything goes, but please, give fresh dill its due here. Miso ramen from scratch with leftover Thanksgiving turkey and homemade black sesame paste. I spent Thanksgiving Day 2016 not watching the Macy’s parade on TV (gasp!) but instead peering into North Korea at the DMZ on a vacation to Japan and South Korea. I made a proper Thanksgiving dinner on my return, only to use the leftovers to make this, missing the trip just so much. I loved how both countries used black sesame. Local striped sea bass ceviche with harissa, lime, red onion, cilantro, home grown chile, and crema Mexicana. For the Fourth of July this past year, feeling patriotic about what it means to me to be American, I came up with side dishes and salads with the flavors of Central and South America and the Middle East, to accompany steamed lobster. Another was an Asian melon salad with fresh mint and parsley, pistachio and pine nuts, and a dried spice and caramelized shallot yogurt dressing. And I always make esquites. For this winter vegetable soup, I used celery root, rutabaga, cremini mushrooms, zucchini, lots of fresh herbs and black pepper, and good Parmigiano-Reggiano. It looks thick, yeah? I pureed half of the contents of the pot then combined the puree with the still-intact cut vegetables and remaining broth. This was so healthy and somehow rich. This past Thanksgiving, cooking for two, I decided I wouldn’t use recipes. I felt confident I knew what to do, and it would be just, well, relaxing. It was my best yet. Now, it was a rough year for the poor turkey what with the brining controversy, to say nothing of all the frozen-shrink-wrapped fates of them, so I wet-brined a bone-in-skin-on breast and last-minute-dry-seasoned two thighs, roasting them together on a wire rack over a tinfoil-lined rimmed baking pan, knowing that what mattered most was the meat thermometer. (And the stuffing!) Pappardelle with Piemontese cheese sauce, pancetta, chile flakes, and fresh rosemary. To achieve the creaminess, I used sodium citrate, a bit of sorcery I got from my brother, which made it through TSA Pre one Christmas in an unlabeled plastic baggy (it’s a white powder), while my brand new cookbooks I was given as gifts were held by the covers and shaken, stressing their bindings, as I was interrogated. It’s okay, though. TSA has allowed me to travel cross-country with stewed chicken from Boston’s Celeste and the spaghetti with ketchup but most importantly oyster ramen with extra broth from New York’s beloved (but no longer) Sake Bar Hagi Times Square, twice. 🙂