Garlic Fried Rice

Simple pleasures are best. How often have we heard that one? Very often it proves to be true!

Bill and I like to eat or take out occasionally from a Philipino restaurant in Chicago called Pampanga’s. Our favorite dishes there are Tocino and Longanisa. Tocino is a bacon-ey sort of fatty pork dish, redolent of garlic and spices and some sort of subtly tangy glaze. Longanisa are sausages (Bill loves sausage, all sausage), with similar spicy, garlicky flavors. Bill used to get an order of each and we shared them (I got all the pickle and papaya – I thought it was limp cabbage slaw until a friend set me straight). Since each order came with a generous amount of steamed white rice we did not feel the need to order any extras. Indeed, we both ended up stuffed and offering remaining bits of pork and sausage to each other when we had trouble finishing.

Once we ordered garlic fried rice. It was delicious. I don’t remember what we ordered with it – probably Tocino and Longanisa - but that doesn’t matter. I am talking of rice!

Essentially, this was leftover rice stir fried with bits of garlic. I decided to try to make it at home. I mean, how hard could it be? I gave it a try and it was good – but I decided to check it out anyway and googled garlic fried rice. Lots of hits came back but they were all about the same. The only real difference I found was that some recipes sauteed the chopped garlic in oil for only a few seconds, and others cooked it until it became brown and crispy. Try both ways, they should both be good.

Garlic fried rice seems to be a breakfast food and a means of using up yesterday’s leftover rice. Serve it with sausages and eggs, alone or with anything you usually eat for breakfast (or anything that sounds good). Or serve it with tonight’s Pork Adobo or stir fry or whatever! Three ingredients, one pan, it’s all good.

Garlic Fried Rice

Garlic, minced or chopped – 3 to 6 cloves or even more!
Olive oil or Vegetable oil, a few tablespoons
Leftover cooked rice (match the amount of oil and garlic to how much rice you have)Note: You can buy the garlic pre-toasted and add it to the rice, or use it as a garnish.

Heat the oil in a skillet. Add the garlic and stir and sizzle anywhere from 30 seconds to a few minutes or until it begins to brown and turn golden. You can let it continue browning or add the rice now. Stir and toss the rice, combining well with the garlic and oil. Press into a single layer and cover the pan. The rice should be heated through. You can continue to cook and toss until the rice begins to brown or serve as soon as it is hot.

Last time I made this I served it with Pork Adobo I had made that day. The rice was leftover Basmati rice I had made a couple days before and served with Keema (spicy ground beef, Pakistani style). The Basmati made a delicious garlic fried rice. Try this with any leftover rice – Jasmine, Basmati or plain old long grain. It has to be good.

Next time, I’ll tell you how to make Adobo. And garlic fried peanuts!

Quotable Quotes; in the category Some Things You Just Cannot Do Without!

“Without rice, even the cleverest housewife cannot cook”

Chinese Proverb

Penny For My Thoughts

A few days ago I was walking with a friend when she found a penny and picked it up. She told me that when she finds a penny, she picks it up and looks at the date. She then reflects on that year and the things that had happened that had relevance to her life. Okay, whatever.

I was used to picking up pennies for good luck, and had even heard that if the penny was laying tail-side up, then picking it up could bring bad luck. Not that I believed in that much. A penny is a penny and worth just as much heads or tails up, so I generally pick up coins of any denomination. But this was the first time I heard about reflecting on the penny’s date of issue.

A few days later, I passed several pennies on the ground. I was in a hurry and there were a lot of people around so I did not stop to pick them up – but the next day, when I passed that spot, one of those pennies was still there. I picked it up and looked at the date. It was the year of my high-school graduation (we really don’t have to concern ourselves with the actual date, do we)?

I carried the penny for a few moments, reflecting on that year, before slipping it into my pocket. Graduation day was also the day of the choir picnic. We had spent the day at the beach, feasting on Kentucky Fried Chicken (nowadays they just call it KFC) and christening the choir director’s balding pate with soda-pop.

Of course, on the way home, the car I was driving (dad’s van, his pride and joy) broke down, stranding me and everyone driving with me. A long afternoon of guessing what was wrong, tow trucks, bent drive shafts and other headaches left me with the prospect of lengthy explanations to my dad, expensive car repairs and being late for graduation. My friend was hardly speaking to me because she wanted to wash, dry and set her hair for the event.

I took a shower when I got home and resigned myself to attending the ceremony with wet hair and a pair of cut off shorts that would not stay buttoned. At least I would have a robe over them for the ceremony. After that, I hardly cared.

When dad got home from work he looked at me, bewildered, and asked where the van was. I told him what had happened and where the car was, at a gas station 20 miles away from home. I fully expected to be blamed for the mishap and even to be expected to pay for the damage caused by the tow service. Instead dad floored me by merely saying “oh” and “I guess we’ll have to go pick it up tomorrow”.

That is when I finally broke down. Now that I knew there were to be no yelling or recrimination, I was able to let go. Dad watched for a moment then said “you need a drink” and went to prepare one for me (people of my age were legal at that time and in that place). It was my first sanctioned drink at home – a bourbon and water on the rocks. I am sure it helped.

Soon, my friend arrived in her dad’s red convertible (we knew exactly how to assign the chauffeur service, the right vehicle for the occasion) and arrived at the high-school in style, our hair air-dried and wind-blown. I remember little else about the ceremony except that my shorts would not stay buttoned and the principal mispronounced my name. Typical. There were a few other notable occasions that year – my first date with my now husband and a presidential election among them.

It was interesting to take that trip down memory lane, inspired by the date on a penny. I will keep an eye out for future coins and future remembrances. Maybe I’ll let you know about them, too.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Look What A Penny Can Do!

"To attract good fortune, spend a new penny on an old friend, share an old pleasure with a new friend and lift up the heart of a true friend by writing his name on the wings of a dragon."

proverb

Oh, to be in England, eating oatmeal!

The first time we went to London we stayed in the Hotel St. Ermin in St. James Park. It’s an Edwardian hotel with a lovely grand staircase, just right for making an entrance when one comes down to tea in the afternoon, and a tiny elevator (capacity 6 without luggage) for those times when you just can’t trudge another step.

Our package included the daily breakfast. Bill was in heaven. In case you don’t know, an “English” breakfast is roughly the equivalent of the American “Country” style breakfast. Eggs, toast, sausages, potatoes, bacon (not the same as American bacon but good), and other things such as fried bread, dripping toast, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes, beans and porridge (oatmeal). This does not include the cereals – dry cereals, flakes, clusters, puffs, and things like shredded wheat, “Wheatabix”, oat cakes and other things served in a bowl with milk or cream.

On entering the dining room, we were shown to our table and asked if we preferred coffee or tea. Almost immediately a tray containing cup, saucer and pot of tea or coffee was presented along with a jug of milk. Also presented was a rack of toast – six slices of various toasted breads, cut in half and buttered, along with a pot of jam. This was just to get started.

I first went to the “buffet” to get a bowl of porridge. Yes, I know it’s oatmeal, but the porridge was nothing like the gloppy, gluey oatmeal we usually have when cooking whole oats, or the bland, texture less mass obtained by pouring boiling water over a packet of instant. This was porridge – real Goldilocks style porridge, neither too hot nor too cold but just right. Thick and creamy, warm and comforting, stuff that could convert a confirmed Yank into a full fledged Anglophile.

The porridge was self-serve. Arrayed on a small tray in front of the porridge pot was a jug of cream, thick as butter, and on alternate days a bottle of treacle or one of Golden Syrup. One morning there was a bottle of “American” (Maple) syrup on the tray and one cold, rainy morning, a tiny bottle of Scotch whiskey (The St. Ermin was a Scottish hotel).

After a bowl of delectable sustenance I went back for the rest of the meal. I usually chose bacon, maybe a sausage, potatoes and an egg cooked to order by the chef. A few mushrooms and maybe a grilled tomato and I was good for the day. That was the great thing – after a breakfast like that, I did not need another meal until late in the afternoon. Bill was good for at least two trips through the buffet line. He loves sausages in all their permutations and the variety offered pleased him greatly.

One morning, there was no porridge. I was crushed. Instead of the porridge pot the chef was making waffles in a waffle iron. I passed on the waffle but I missed my porridge. But the pot returned the next day. Before our stay ended I asked the chef how he cooked the porridge, explaining that I wanted to achieve its creamy texture at home. He warned me to use only steel cut oats (in America we often find rolled oats or old fashioned oats – not the same thing). He also told me to basically double the amount of liquid called for in the package instructions, and to replace half the water called for with milk. In a nutshell, here is how to make porridge.

Finding the oats is the first task. If you can find McCann’s steel cut oats that is a good place to start. Even better is Hamlyn’s “pinhead” oatmeal. The oats are even finer cut than McCann’s and make a creamier porridge. Even their instructions on the label are closer to what the hotel chef told me.

For each ¼ cup of oats use about 3/4 to one cup water and 3/4 to one cup milk. Add a bit of salt and cook over low heat until creamy and tender. Of course, you will experiment and find the amount of liquid and cooking time that suits you best. And here are some tricks to make the job easier, faster or better.

Try using a double boiler, or simply a bowl placed over a pan of simmering water. Put the oats and liquid in the bowl and cook until done.

Try toasting the oats before cooking. Spread them in a small skillet and cook over low heat for a few minutes, stirring, until they release a nutty fragrance. Continue as usual.

Soak them over night. Place the oats (toasted or not) and water in a pan or double boiler overnight. Next morning, add the milk and continue as usual.

Prepare them in a small crock pot. I have one that is meant for keeping hot dips and sauces hot. I place my oats, milk and water in the little pot and plug it in when I go to bed. Next morning my oats are done and ready to eat.

Serve them with milk, cream, brown sugar, granulated sugar, syrup, honey, jam or molasses. Some people still like a lump of butter on their oatmeal. I will not discourage you.

Leftovers can be reheated or stirred into soups, stews or bread dough! Be sure to sprinkle rolled oats over the top of your oatmeal bread loaves before baking!

Eating this oatmeal, or “porridge” can transport me back to St. James Square, to the Albert Pub in Victoria Street where Bill enjoyed watching the Chelsea Pensioner nursing his pint and where Bill himself sampled a small pork pie. Back to Covent Garden and Charing Cross Road, to the Garrick Theatre and the Army & Navy and to a tea shop in York. To the food halls in Harrod’s, the Underground (mind the gap) and Canterbury. I don’t eat porridge nearly often enough. Maybe I’ll have some this weekend.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Remember, I said this was a Scottish Hotel!

“Oats. A grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.” Samuel Johnson

Monkey See? Or Not?

My brother used to have the most fascinating things in his room, not including himself. A hookah, which he used to smoke while pretending to be the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland, much to the delight of my sister and me; impossibly thin and sharp tweezers with which he would extract the occasional splinter from my finger (he was the only one I would allow to perform this delicate and potentially painful operation); a Morse code key that clicked enticingly when he sent or received messages from friends – yes, it was connected and operable.

Perhaps not as fascinating but no less interesting was his paperweight. It was a brass or bronze sculpture of those famous monkeys, one with his paws over his eyes, one over his ears and the last over his mouth. You remember See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil. The monkeys were on a leather pad embossed with the words “Do Not Monkey With Things On This Desk”.

We understood this to mean that should we be so brazen as to enter his room uninvited or unbidden and actually touch anything on his desk, the consequences would be severe. Probably no more than a cessation of invitations to enter – but that was a grave punishment indeed!

Tony was the coolest, the best, the most awesome older brother to ever walk the earth. At least, that’s how he seemed to my sister and me. Any chance to spend time with Tony was not to be passed up. The fact that many of our friends found him to be sinister or even creepy had no impact on our affection for him. One of his favorite ploys was to come into the basement where we were playing with friends, enter dad’s workshop, flip on the power saw (wwwrrrrraaaaaaaaugh!) and remark, with a demonic grin, “Hey, come in here a minute. And bring your friend”.

Such action was practically guaranteed to send any friends (who had not left already) scurrying up the basement stairs and out the back door faster than you can saw wood! Now that I think of it, this may have been a ruse to get rid of excess neighbor kids at supper time.

No matter, Tony was and is the hero of the younger members of the family (don’t know about the older ones, we were not in the same age group and did not communicate in the same way).

I often think of his desk monkeys and wonder where he got them and what happened to them. I often wish I had a similar talisman to place on my desk, to keep away inquiring minds and hands and eyes. And I often wish I possessed his particular power to strike awe and fear into those to whom he chose.

Quotable quotes; in the category You Better Stay Out Of My Room

"Privacy is not something that I'm merely entitled to, it's an absolute prerequisite." Marlon Brando

Would You Believe Part III?

Okay who would have guessed that only weeks after reading Catcher in the Rye and presenting it for Book Club discussion the venerable and reclusive J. D. Salinger would leave this earth?

I wonder if ours was the last club to select this classic for discussion before Salinger’s death. I don’t know of any way to find out, but it is interesting to contemplate. At least, it is to me. You may not think so.

Quotable quotes; in the category Beauty is truth but truth is in the mind of the beholder.

"People always think something's all true."
J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Catcher in the Rye Part II

Well it was interesting to re-read Catcher in the Rye. I knew I had forgotten much of it but I think I forgot more than I knew. But the gist was the same. Poor Holden Caulfield, kicked out of yet another boarding prep school and unwilling to go home to face his parents, less willing to stick around for the final weekend before school closes for the holiday break.

His answer is an unrealistic sojourn of New York City nightlife. Unfortunately, Holden seems to lack both the funds and the proper identification to get into all but the most flea-bitten of night clubs. The people he meets and the drinks he cannot get only add to his sense of desperation.

On this re-read I had to ask myself – what did I ever see in this guy? The old adage about art imitating life comes to play here. If that seems cryptic I think I will just leave it that way, at least for now.

The book club discussion was quite interesting, much to my surprise. I was afraid I had chosen a real dog but the club members seemed to enjoy the re-read (most had read the book years ago for school assignments or for pleasure) and all seemed to enjoy discussing it. I concede the symbolism. It definitely seems to be there and who am I to argue?

Anyway, I think Holden Caulfield and Salinger are both pretty much out of my system. Now I can get my Salinger book collection off my shelf and to the used bookstore. Maybe there will be room for my Harry Connick cds. I am going to listen once more before I decide if I am all over Harry, too.

Note: listened to Harry’s “We Are In Love” yesterday. Definitely NOT over Harry!

Quotable Quotes; in the category I Wish I Hadn’t Done That!

"Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."
- J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

The Catcher in the Rye

I read books the way kids watch movies on DVD – find one I like, buy the book and read it again and again. And again.

I first read Catcher in the Rye when I was in high school. It was not a school assignment. In fact, I might never have heard of it were it not for a short story I read in a girl’s magazine. The boy in the story talked about reading The Catcher in the Rye because it was the only book a kid in high school was allowed to read that was full of language he would get slugged for using around his mother. High praise indeed, for a high school girl, and reason enough to check the book out of the library.

I read the book and immediately fell in love with both Holden Caulfield AND J.D. Salinger, quite missing the point that those very emotions would have alienated me from both author and character. Such is teenage love & angst.

I read the book with no thought of discussing it in any setting, certainly not a classroom one. But a few years later I met a boy and found that he had read the book and had strong opinions about it. We discussed it at length over coffee at Howard Johnson’s. We also discussed the movies The Graduate, 2001 A Space Odyssey and a few others. His propensity for “narrating” the movie and providing his version of director’s commentary during the film prevented me from seeing many films with him, and his insistence on a relationship deeper than I was prepared for at that time ended our budding friendship before it had a chance to develop into something more. His loss.

Apparently there is lots of symbolism in The Catcher in the Rye regarding Holden's red hunting hat, his sister, his brother Allie, dying of leukemia and his sense of disappearing. Funny, when I read the book I just thought it was about a malcontent teenager who did not want to accept responsibility for certain actions and who did not want to proceed with growing up to adulthood. I just cannot imagine Salinger deciding to write this book as an allegory filled with symbolism. I think Salinger was writing about himself and his own unwillingness to grow up. I think if I had written this book that’s what it would have been about.

I remember reading Watership Down by Richard Adams for a school assignment. I had a hard time drawing the symbolic inferences the instructor seemed to want us to. I felt much better when I later read an interview with Adams. When asked about the hidden meaning in the book he replied there was none. He just wanted to write a book about rabbits.

Although I have read Catcher in the Rye countless times, it was all I could do to get through Watership Down, and I do not believe I will ever read it again. I have kind of outgrown Catcher in the Rye, too, and would not be reading it or writing about it if it had not been a book club selection. Yes, it was my turn to choose the book this month. Catcher in the Rye was the only thing I could think of. I’ll let you know if I enjoy re-reading it to remember all the parts I have forgotten.

Quotable Quotes: in the category I Guess That About Says It All

"All morons hate it when you call them a moron."
- J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye