Mapu Tofu

If there is a season for Mapu Tofu, it is winter. It is spicy, warm, and filling. As summer approaches, cool days are in short supply. Try it after a chilly swim!

Mapu Tofu

Hot Cooked Rice (short grain)

Green Onion, 4 to 6 stems, white parts sliced, set aside 1 Tbsp for garnish

Garlic, 2 cloves finely diced

Fresh Ginger, 1 knob, diced (~2 Tbsp)

Shitake Mushroom, 5 caps sliced (discard stems)

Firm Tofu, 1 block cubed

Water, 1 cup

Corn Starch, 1 Tbsp

Fry Oil, 2 to 3 Tbsp (varies with fat content of pork)

Ground Pork, ~1 lb

Sake, 1 Tbsp

Oyster Sauce, 1 1/2 Tbsp

Soy Sauce, 2 Tbsp

Tobanjon Chili Paste, 1 tsp

Sesame Oil, 1 tsp for garnish

1. Prepare the rice.

2. Prep onion, garlic, ginger, mushrooms,  & tofu. 

3. Mix water & corn starch.

4. Heat 2 Tbsp of oil in a wok over medium heat. Add onion, toss and cook until fragrant, about 1 to 2 minutes.

5. Add garlic & ginger, toss & cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.

6. Add pork, toss & cook until browned, about 6 to 8 minutes. Chop and break up  pork as it cooks.

7. Push pork to the sides, add 1 Tbsp of oil if needed to center of pan, allow it to come to temperature, about 1 to 2 minutes.

8. Add mushrooms to oil in center. Toss & cook until softened, about 2 minutes. 

9. Clear center and add tofu cubes, allow to brown slightly. Toss & cook until crispy on all sides, about 3 to 4 minutes.

10. Add sake & scrape bits off the bottom of the pan.

11. Add oyster sauce, soy sauce, & tobanjon chili paste (vary amount to your taste). Stir the corn starch slurry again, add to wok. Toss & cook until thickened, about 2 to 3 minutes.

12. Garnish with sesame oil and toss once more.

13. Serve over hot rice & garnish with fresh chopped green onion as you like.

Night of the Livin Hillbilly

Old friends visited us here in Ohio. We lured them with concert tickets and good past behavior. I will remember the visit for both the happiness at spending time together and for the expression on our friend's face every time yet another local enhanced the scene.

At the lake, from one blanket over, a man called, "I'll play!" Our game of beach volleyball was improved for it. The pick up game was more an attempt to keep the ball in play than winning, more childlike than the polished gloss of an adult game played with teams, rules, and skills. We sweated away happily for over an hour.

"Ravishing Ronald" a la Bugs Bunny appeared at brunch. Our startled friend stared with interest at a man's hair carefully arranged as if a French woman's coiffure though with a touch more mullet and bleach. Maybe it was the curls sticking out at the sides?

At the long planned for concert, our group parted down the middle like the Red Sea by a wide set man wearing overalls. Our friend's incomprehension boiled over. The strangeness of an adult's desire to play, the unusual hair style, and the work clothes at a concert led to the utterance, with humor, of, "night of the livin hillbilly." We all chuckled at the labeling, but the collective unspoken thought simmered, "What's the point?"

I strive for comfortable but off the radar. I'm not interested in drawing attention to myself, but, still, I have my own definition of fashionable. We say things with the way we present ourselves from the well groomed to the unkempt.

As the concert performer handled the spotlight, he eyed the audience, dipped low, and strutted. He wore a jacket with a buttoned up white shirt. He had guitar licks to showcase.

I also noticed the boys wearing hats. My brother-in-law talks about, 'the hats,' as college boys who party too much, don't shower, and wear hats to class. This was Appalachia. These 'hats' were working boys. I've seen them at the Farmer's market. Their hair was buzzed in the manner of summer cuts so it wasn't about hair. Perhaps their mothers had never taught them to remove their hat inside? My eight year old son walks into a building and removes his hat within thirty seconds. A punk rock goth chic is screaming, "I may be on the fringe, but look at me!" The hillbilly with the bad hair cut? What's he going for? Why do I contemplate it? Why do I want to sort out cultural nuances?

It's what you do when you're the new kid, and I'm still the new kid.

I love that there are guys who go to the barber and say, "Allan, short on the top and long on the sides. Oh, and bleach it." You have to be off the cultural radar to think very large overalls are dress clothes for a night out. How is it someone knows music but is oblivious to parts of the social world? What parts are they tuning into?

During the fall and spring semesters, local college girls were notable in my mind for wearing see-through black yoga pants as if their behinds were (A) small and (B) invisible. When I brought this up to point out that hillbillies weren't the only ones in need of a "Glamour Don't," my city friend commented that this was probably about the Lululemon yoga pants recall-- a pricey brand with a production glitch. Women were wearing see-through yoga pants because they had spent money on them even if they looked ridiculous.

We've all got our uniforms, some are just more obvious.

I'm fascinated by the thought of what we tell ourselves and by how much we spend in time, money, and effort to achieve it. When you get dressed, buy clothes, do your hair, what do you tell yourself? What do you tell yourself when you splurge? Exercise? Don't exercise? Say something stupid? We talk ourselves into a lot of crazy shit.

I'm thankful for people who remind me to hold my tongue (not that I always mind), consult a hair dresser, and skip the ice cream from time to time. Yeah, I thought about this while listening to tunes, live. The show was amazing, my thoughts could use a workshop.

Celebrations, Collaborations, & Creations

Walking from the bar to the table carrying two beers, I’m happy with myself for finally being able to have an adult beverage in a place where I’ve mostly had meals with kids. A group of smart women are gathered to celebrate one member's achievement, and I’m excited for the chance to talk. I miss brainy women who drink brews and chat. Since the arrival of children, five years abroad in Japan with not so great Japanese, and a move away from all known friends, time for relaxed adult conversation (I can understand) is never enough.

Have you ever considered that Frankenstein by Mary Shelley is an interpretation of creating and childrearing? I’ve got to hang out with more English professors!

Later, walking to the elementary school ice cream social, I asked my neighbor for ideas for communicating with other parents to get the word out that the PTO (Parent Teacher Organization) needs to raise funds for portable computers. The teachers want more computers than the PTO can buy along with some playground equipment this summer. The neighbor, who specializes in communications, had a great suggestion. I had to laugh at myself for the answer which amounted to, “Let’s ask!” By the end of the ice cream social fifteen names were on paper committed to buying fifteen of the wanted twenty-five computers. Old fashioned face to face time when I was expecting tweet, facetime, or something!

This town is percolating with ideas and action everywhere I go, but you have to show up and you have to ask.

Meanwhile, I’ve been working on a few bead projects. I also helped a friend set up her website as part of my, "Your customers need to know what you are up too!" discussion. It surprised me that she was happy to have someone just do it. It will change and morph over time as she finds her way, vision, and time to express her business on the web, but in the meantime, it felt great to be part of putting her out there. If you're lucky enough to arrive at the Athens Farmers Market at ten on a Saturday morning which is when it opens and just before she sells out, you can eat one of her tasty tartlets. Feel free to like her Facebook page and check out her blog which I also tinkered with for her. I did not make it to the market in time this morning for her yummy creations, but you can look at some of mine.

The 5 Color Meal

I love the ease of the five color approach to a Japanese meal. There are no food pyramids or percentages. Get the colors in any which way, but get the color, and you get an easy approach to a healthy meal. The five colors? White, black, red, green, and yellow/orange. Here are some ideas to get you started. Let me know how it works!

White
Rice or other Grains, Bean Sprouts,Tofu, Daikon, Boiled Eggs, Bread,Potato, Onion, Garlic, Yogurt, Mayo, dressing, etc.

Black
Nori Seaweed Accents, Black Sesame, Poppy Seeds, Peanut Butter, Almonds, or other Nuts, Meat, Fried Tofu, Lentils, Black Beans, Pinto Beans, Bean Burgers, etc., Hijiki Seaweed.

Red
Red Apple Slices, Tomato Slices or Cherry Tomato, Strawberry, Radish, Red Beans, Gojiberries, Cranberries, Umeboshi pickled plum, Yukari (Red Perilla) Rice Seasoning.

Green
Quick Pickles, Asparagus Spears, Kale, Green beans, Peas, Pesto, Celery, Green Peppers, Green Apple, Salad lettuce, Parsley, Zuccinni, Sugar Snap Peas, Broccoli, & Edamame Soy Beans.

Yellow or Orange
Carrots, Sweet Potatoes, Orange Slices, Corn, Cheese, Lemon Wedge,Banana, Orange or Yellow Peppers, Polenta or Cornmeal, Pumpkin or Squash, & Eggs-- Omelette, Fritata, etc.

5 colors to healthy diet-- white, black, red, green, & yellow/orange

Taco Rice Salad

I admit it. I lived in Japan too long-- I want rice in my taco salad! My friend Kendo Mama, introduced me to it, and it's a keeper.

Taco Rice Salad

It's not on any local restaurant menus, although, Casa did accommodate my request with their vegetarian chili taco salad. However, the original is served without beans and tofu. The difference in taste has meant that I kept thinking about it.

The taco seasoning was the rate limiting step; I couldn't bring myself to buy a package of processed taco seasoning from El Paso even if it did taste good in my friend's salad. Finally, I did a Google search and found this recipe for homemade taco seasoning. I, ah, made alot.

I wanted to send some to Kendo Mama to try, plus a few Kodomo no ni Children's Day packages have arrived from Japan. I have some thank-yous to send out, and a little homemade taco seasoning is just the thing to spice it up.

The best part about the homemade taco seasoning? Taste is great and there are no preservatives nor any other unnecessary gunk in it. I had to ride my bike twice to the Farmacy to get enough chili powder which just means that this batch is half organic, one of the quirks of living in the hills of Ohio.

This is the recipe for the Taco Rice Salad I ate at my friend's house in Japan. Vegetarians could try the seasoning with tempeh or tofu. I did use salsa instead of tomatoes-- it's not quite tomato season here yet. I had forgotten how pleasant it is to have the warm rice and ground beef with the cool crunchy lettuce.

I served each layer separately so that the kiddos could make dinner their way. It was a win all the way around the table. My husband was absent, but he'll eat my worst mistakes and say, "I'm just happy there's food on the table." I love cooking for him, it's the two kids who wrack my brains. Try this at your table. Use the link to make the seasoning-- I can vouch for the recipe.

Idatakimasu I humbly receive,
Kim

Homemade Taco Seasoning

Ground Beef cooked with taco seasoning and water

Taco Rice Salad

Adapted from Aya Tambata

Ingredients

Hot Cooked Japanese Rice or whatever kind you like

Cooked Ground Beef + Taco seasoning + Water-- cook until water evaporates

Mexican Mix or Monterrey Jack Cheese, grated

Lettuce, shredded

Salsa or Diced Tomato

Avocado, sliced

Corn Chips, crushed

Fresh Cilantro, 1 to 2 springs, for garnish

Hot Sauce, for garnish

What to do

1. Cook the rice. 
2. Saute the ground beef until browned. Add taco seasoning and water. Cook until the water is evaporated, stir often. Set aside.
3. Prep vegetables: lettuce, tomato if using, avocado, and cilantro.
4. Layer lettuce, rice, beef, cheese, avocado slices, corn chips, tomato or salsa, and garnish with a spring of cilantro and hot sauce to taste.

Spring Bling

Shorn blades of grass along the roadsides herald a change of seasons. The hillsides are daily greener with bursts of color from the purple haze of the red bud to the random patch of white dogwood. Flower beds around the house are popping with tulips. A friend points out that the deer won’t likely chomp my soon to be planted garden if they haven’t eaten their favorite garden flower snack.

Birds call and tweet their sweet tunes before the sun rises. Their gentle conversations accompany me as I string, restring, and string again beads. I am ever closer to the pattern I cannot visualize but sense is there. Inspired by my great grandmother's necklace made of graduated clear round balls with contrasting black accents, there are large clear crystals, as if from a chandelier, to contrast with smaller black ones. Crackled quartz tubes and tiny black crystals divide them. Like nature around me, I too am ready to show off. It's my version of spring bling.

The hills of Ohio offers many perks, but shopping is not one of them. I have a knack for selecting ties, likely due to a willingness to seek out and pay for beautiful silk. With the recent transition to civilian life, there is a tie deficit in my husband’s wardrobe. A birthday gift search led me to an Etsy shop in England. The morning of my husband’s recent birthday, I pulled a brown paper wrapped package out from hiding and asked him to open it as he was dressing for work. The tie popped with color and the silk shimmered. Handmade, it was exactly long enough. I left a note of appreciation for the shop.

The next day, avoiding the dreaded task of completing my continuing education hours for my nursing license, I scanned the email inbox and found this note:

Thank you ever so much! Your kind words couldn't have come at a better time...I went over to the silk mill today to place my very first order for silks woven exactly to my specifications, so I felt the confidence boost when I made the final decisions on the bus ride over.

With a happy spot brightening my heart, I turn to the morning tasks at hand. Seedling containers are schlepped outside to harden for the upcoming garden transfer, the newly planted ume tree watered, a load of laundry is hung in the sun, and the breakfast dishes are sorted into the dishwasher. As the way to my post-poned task begins to clear,  the doorbell chimes unexpectedly. I invite my neighbor inside. She asks, “What are you doing?” I reply, “Cleaning my kitchen.” Though scullery maid is a necessary part of having fresh real food on the table, I do for once wish I was able to say, “Working on my continuing education credits for my nursing license.”

Five miles later, I stumble along a trail sucking wind and lifting my feet just enough to skim over the top of sticks and rocks. My neighbor calls out the names of flowers and trees and gives me the lay of the land conversing with a steady even breathing pattern. I’m not oblivious to the signs of spring, but concentrating on the physical demands for which I am suddenly engaged.

When we return home, I tell her about the email in my morning inbox by way of saying that I’m a grateful she chose to ask me along this day. I finish half of the necessary license requirements and think, I can do this. It is nice to be bolstered in unexpected ways exactly when needed.

Spring Bling

Spring Lit Fest Compost & Thrum

The experience of attending even one day of the Ohio University’s Spring Literary Festival is one of those wow moments that needs to be shared. If you love books, writing, and words, put it on your calendar for next year. It’s free, fabulous, and fun!

The afternoon lectures by Robert Olen Butler and Bonnie Jo Campbell, the ones I was able to attend, used the analogy of composting and thrumming in writing and reading.

Feeding the compost pile (Butler) or the black box (Campbell) in your head and then letting it heat up and invade one’s writing life is about getting away from technique and getting into the creative zone. Campbell focused on what keeps us up at night and made a bid for the anecdotes or tiny narratives that capture personality in the shortest amount of space. She used the example of, “Where’s my goddamn leg?” as a starting point for story about rending the ugly and the terrible into something beautiful. I was pleased with myself for having her book in my bag. You know she is going to tell an awesome story with an example like that.

I loved Butler’s word for what resonates and creates works to pursue, thrum. Writing done from the unconscious, built of technique, vocabulary, and the senses, is scary, but is where a writer evokes a cinema of the mind. He encouraged writers to get away from analysis as art. He surprised me by starting with the genius, Jesus Christ and his parables which avoid telling a point directly. His talk also reminded me of Anton Chekhov’s, “Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” Readers were encouraged by both to read slowly and for joy.

I purchased several books to add to my bedside pile and managed to get them all signed. I’ve noticed that the signed books function as a portal and return me to the reflections of the event in my head. Of course, I’m reading something else, The Paris Wife to be exact.

My favorite takeaways from the Spring Lit Fest, skewed toward the parts attended, were:

Never avert your eyes.
Robert Olen Butler

Feet, balls, heart. Eat the whole chicken.
Bonnie Jo Campbell

thrum  

/THrəm/

Verb Make a continuous rhythmic humming sound. Cover or adorn (cloth or clothing) with ends of thread.

Noun A continuous rhythmic humming sound: "the steady thrum of rain on the windows". (in weaving) An unwoven end of a warp thread, or a fringe of such ends, left in the loom when the finished cloth is cut away.

Synonyms verb.   strum noun.   fringe