Post 39.1: International Potluck

I work in a section of the office that has people from all different ethnic backgrounds... from Afghan to American to Pakistani to Polish.  We used this to our advantage by holding an international potluck at work.  Here are some of the dishes that my co-workers brought to the potluck... along with the five words they would use to describe food from their culture.

Sambosas and chutney
Afghanistan

No typo there.  Sambosas are from Afghanistan, and samosas are from India.  Difference? Other than the extra letter, Indian samosas are pyramid-shaped and primarily filled with potatoes, while Afghan sambosas are flatter and are filled with seasoned ground beef.  

The ground beef filling is folded over with wonton wrappers and then fried in a wok... a wok? That doesn't seem very Afghan! The wok is used by Afghan-Americans... but what if you're Afghan in Afghanistan? You make your own wrappers with flour and water, and grab a deep kettle to fry these fantastic fried finger foods up.  Clear out the space in your stomach for Afghan sambosas.  They're ridiculously addicting.

Sambosa filling: ground beef, cabbage, onions, peas, carrots
Spices: ground coriander seed, cumin, paprika, garlic, garlic powder, salt, pepper
Chutney blend: cilantro, murch (Afghan chili) or jalapeño, apple cider vinegar, avocado

Marya's 5 words to describe Afghan food: Persian style cooking, Indian spices

Pork fried rice
Cambodia

Bai cha, or fried rice in Cambodian, is surprisingly similar to Chinese style fried rice.  But the rice that Cambodians use is different.  While the best Chinese fried rice is made with day-old, long grain rice, my co-worker informed me that Cambodians use a mixture of new rice and old rice.  Many claim Cambodian rice is a higher quality version of the rice from Thailand or Vietnam.  I can't tell the difference just yet, but hey, at least I know it's good.

Stir-fry ingredients: Chinese sausage, eggs, corn, peas, carrots, garlic, soy sauce

Holly's 5 words to describe Cambodian/Khmer food: simple in a complicated way

Chicken qorma with matar pulao
Pakistan

Mmmmm... now this is some good stuff.  Spicy food always makes me happy.  Although I was ensured that the heat on the qorma was toned down just for us non-Pakistani, non-Indian folk, it was spicy enough for some perspiration to form on my forehead... but not too much.

Vegetable oil was used instead of ghee (clarified butter) in the qorma... oil is healthier, and it doesn't congeal when it cools off the way ghee does.  The pulao, another word for pilaf, was a tasty way to soak up all the gravy from the qorma.  I liked the added touch of the peas (matar) to the rice.

Qorma ingredients: yogurt, fried onions, coriander, powdered cumin, peppercorn
Pulao ingredients: Basmati rice, peas, fried onions, cumin seed

Zeeshan's 5 words to describe Pakistani food: Just use the Wikipedia words
Wikipedia's 5 words to describe Pakistani food: refined blend of various cuisines

Pancit bihon
Phillippines

Ah... Taiwanese stir-fried rice noodles? 米粉? That's what I thought when I first noticed the rice noodles.  Not only are the Taiwanese and Filipino rice noodles similar in appearance, the name is similar as well... bifen in Taiwanese and bihon in Tagalog.  But the big difference, at least for me, was not just the choice of meat (Taiwanese generally use pork to make rice noodles) but the last minute squeeze of lemon right before eating.  Usually, calamansi is used for its more sour flavor (as compared to the typical American lemon)... it adds a burst of flavor that's unseen to the naked eye. 

The burst of flavor, especially the sour taste, is something that Filipinos like, and I understand why.  The squeeze of lemon at the end is like icing on the cake... it makes something already good that much better.  With this eye-opening experience with bihon, I think slices of lemon will forever accompany my bifen.

Main ingredients: bihon rice noodles, cabbage, carrots, celery, onions, garlic, scallions, lemon

Peter and Lisa's 5 words to describe Filipino food: porky, vinegary, Spanish-Asian fusion

Cabbage rolls stuffed with beef
Ireland, Poland

Oooooh... how interesting.  Traditionally, cabbage rolls were a way to consume leftover food in old Eastern Europe.  It's something I've never had before, so I was quite intrigued to discover what was inside.  As I broke the cabbage leaves apart, I was surprised to discover not just beef within but grains of fluffy white rice as well.    The stuffing can be any kind of meat mixed with grains, eggs, vegetables and even the leftover bits of cabbage too small to wrap around the filling.  Covered in tomato sauce and cooked for 45 minutes in either an oven or over the stove, the cabbage rolls stuffed with beef makes a very hearty meal.  Meat, veggies and carbs are rolled into one... literally.  All that's missing now is beer.

Stuffing ingredients: ground beef, white rice, onions, tomato sauce, salt, pepper

Christina's 5 words to describe Irish food: meat and fat and beer

Texas BBQ beef
USA

Phil's in San Diego and Lucille's in the LA area both make great barbeque, but Jon's wife Tammy barbequed up the best batch of beef today.  The meat was sweet and tangy and ever-so-tender.  I didn't even need the rolls to enjoy the shredded deliciousness.  Meat and sauce is as simple as it gets.  It may be the reason why Jon describes American food as basic... just grown on a farm.

BBQ ingredients: beef and sauce

Jon's 5 words to describe American food: heavy, filling, basic, farm food

Not featured: 
Antipasto salad (Italy) and Three cup chicken lettuce wraps (Taiwan)

ML - 20101117/20101028

Post 7: Conquering my Curry Craving (SD: Miramar)

Sometimes cravings hit me the same way a heavyweight boxer gets jabbed in the jaw by his opponent. WHAAAAMM. It's nothin' but pain. Today I got a slam in the stomach that left me crying for curry, and the only way to cure the pain was to conquer the craving.

My favorite spot for a quick conquering of my Indian curry craving is Punjabi Tandoor, a hole in the wall hidden amongst techno-corporate office buildings in San Diego's Miramar region. With about a dozen tables total (inside and on the patio) and most of their curries pre-made, I would never call this a restaurant... but this 'shop' does provides an instant remedy for the pain caused by my curry craving.

Can you find it? Punjabi Tandoor is hidden between corporate office space.

My meal was a boxing match against five curries. Here's how the fight (MICHAEL LIN vs. CURRY SINGH) played out:

Pre-fight training (cue Rocky music...) - VEGETABLE SAMOSAS

Biting into these samosas are a combination of pain and pleasure. The steam fills the caverns of your mouth so quickly that you don't have time to scream, but the intensity of spices from the peas and potatoes leaves you panning for more. Good thing the samosas come in pairs!

Crispy and fluffy vegetable samosas.
Broken apart and basking next to pools of chutneys.

Round 1. The first punch - SAAG SPINACH CURRY
The spinach curry is the first punch to your face... BOOM. Like... damn. Where did that come from? It's a sobering wake up call that announces that the fight has begun. The creaminess of the spinach curry fooled me at first, but trust me when I advise you to never underestimate your opponent. The adrenaline starts pumping, and drops of sweat have begun to roll down the side of my face...

Round 2. Footwork and blocking - CHANNA CHICKPEA MASALA
Getting hit for the first time signals your body to immediately guard against another attack. Put your arms up, and cover your face! The chickpeas in this curry are a bit bland in comparison to the spinach curry, but it provides a defense against any other attacks of spiciness. The channa masala is the dance of the footwork that helps prepare for the next jab.

Topped off with a yin and yang of chutney.
The green chutney has a spicy yet minty kick, and the red chutney is sweet like molasses.

Round 3. The unexpected uppercut - SHREDDED CHICKEN TANDOORI
I expect spicy food to be brightly colored as a natural warning of impending digestive disaster, but deceit in this surprise lies beneath the curry's dull, crimson color. While the spiciness from most other curries hits the top of your tongue, the blow from this chicken tandoori hits the underside of your tongue like an uppercut to the bottom of your chin. BAAAAAM. It hits so hard that it throws the sweat right off my face.

Respite between rounds - PANEER TIKKA MASALA
After getting a brutal pounding in the first round against Curry Singh, paneer tikka masala provides a rejuvenating respite between rounds. Don't get me wrong; the curry still stings, but the delightful dairy soaking in the tub of the curry is like the sponge of relief that the trainer uses to wipe down your sweat. The curry that the paneer floats in is like the squirt of Gatorade in your mouth that replenishes your body. It still stings a bit, but it helps you strategize your next move.

Paneer tikka masala.
Five curries completed my pentagon of Punjabi pleasures.

Final round. Fight to the finish - CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA
The final round in a fight is the one that inflicts the most pain. The aggressor jabs, hits, and punches in such a frenzy that the opponent collapses in a total knockout. This chicken tikka masala jabbed, hit, and punched my taste buds with such a drunken rage of spiciness that I was overcome with an invigorating rush to defeat the curry. I didn't want to throw in the towel, but Singh delivered a final blow of spiciness so great that my tongue collapsed in defeat.

Post-fight massage/rub-down - MILK KHEER
After an utter defeat of currgantuan proportions, my taste buds needed a cleansing just as much as heavyweight boxers need post-fight massages. The cleansing for my taste buds came in the form of a milk-based, sweet rice dessert called kheer, comparable to Southeast Asian tapioca desserts (西米露). Providing a much-needed relief after a spicy meal, kheer allows the eater to rest from battle and regain the strength and endurance needed for the next match.

Lin vs. Singh: in the green corner is saag spinach curry.

Channa masala in the yellow corner; chicken tandoori in the red corner.
Chicken tikka masala in the brown corner.

After a traditional southern Indian wedding last November, I couldn't get over my hankering for delicious Indian food. Although the state of Punjab is not part of southern India (it's closer to the Pakistani border), Punjabi Tandoor calmed my craving for curry. The samosas, the chicken tikka masala, and the paneer were my favorites... hands down. Perhaps vegetarians would enjoy the channa masala more than I did (as my Lydia the newfound vegetarian had). Judging by Myung's plate (six curries; plate completely demolished), he enjoyed everything.

Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Mentions:
Aparna, we share a very important and special date! Thanks for giving me a first-hand glimpse at southern Indian traditions. I hope I can provide the same generosity and hospitality with my culture's traditions in the near future too...
Anisha, for telling me about this place and 'promising' that you would take me... and then seeing you there when I went myself! This place is bomb... thanks, Ms. Sakariya!
Aman and Janaki, the first Indian friends (Punjabi and Gujarati... I still remember) I met at school; one whose mom cooks the most amazing and memorable home-made Punjabi food ever and one who has allowed me to drunkenly sabotage her vegetarian diet... but only once!
Myung, thanks for driving. Enjoy your time here before heading back to Seoul...
Lydia, welcome back to USA. We'll get some 蔥抓餅 soon!
Anna, I was put in a bad spot... between a monster and a vegetarian!


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