I finally went to Berkeley's big farmers market this weekend. Well, it was actually much smaller than I imagined (or maybe 'hoped' is a better term), but it was still beautiful with lots of colors and delicious treats. I decided to treat myself to a cookie there, but was a bit disappointed- or maybe I'm too spoiled by my own homemade cookies. I tried to restrain myself from spending too much money and walked away with most of my cash safe in my wallet. On my walk back, I chose to zig zag through the streets, making sure to take note of the local, front yard selection of produce. I was relieved to see tons of rosemary, as I have been cooking lately without any herbs, and even came across some gardens. There was nothing too special though: a really tall lemon tree and a weary-looking apple tree which I might take a bite off of, and way overgrown swiss chard. I realized though that I had been doing a really bad job of neighborhood gleaning since I got here and I know it's lurking somewhere. To my delight, as I was nearing the house, something caught my eye. Off to the side, nestled tightly in between a home and a storefront, I spotted a huge pomegranate tree. Given that I had just denied a $2/lb pomegranate at the farmers market and was starting to pity my move away from SoCal- where I can name every pomegranate tree in the town, and am not afraid to silently seize half of a dozen of the ripe crowns in the middle of the autumn nights, I finally found what I've been waiting for.
When I got into my house, I was feeling a mixture of delight from my findings and quite disgusted with myself from the cookie that I had garbled down in a one felt swoop, but excited to finally do some climbing with a great friend of mine. I packed a quick salad of some pepper that had been sitting in the fridge for a couple of days, a tomato (from my internship), half of an avocado (found in the fridge at my internship), some cheddar cheese cubes, and cubed apple chunks, also from the batch of apples at my internship. I added some chili-garlic sauce and balsamic and olive oil. Noticing that I was sitting right next to a 'No Eating or Drinking' sign, I tried to secretly shove spoonfuls into my now-hungry mouth on the BART. Nevertheless, it was quite a delicious salad.
After climbing, my friend and I were starved and we decided to try out a Chinese place near her house where nothing costs more than $6. We talked about going there a couple of weeks ago, but chose Japanese over Chinese after viewing the line that wrapped around the corner at 7:30 on a Saturday evening. I wasn't too sad then, my luck with Chinese food has never been good. When I was little, my family would often order it on Sunday evenings and I would usually find myself vomiting over the toilet from the grease. The taste never satisfied me, either. Too bland, too meaty, where was the vibrance? The complexities?
Last night, we arrived just in time for a space. We waited outside for a few minutes and when I ran inside to use the bathroom, I noticed two empty bar stools. I took a good look around: this place was truly only about the food. 12 barstools lined the counter with only a foot of walking room to get from the door to the other end of the counter. On the far wall, tucked into the corner was the refrigerator where the vegetables, tofu, packages of meat and frozen dumplings were stored in plastic bags as they were chopped, marinated, stuffed and waiting to be consumed. Next to the fridge, was the cooler. You could have your pick of it: bottles of Coke, cans of diet coke, Sprite, and incomprehensible Chinese drinks with shiny pictures, or a fresh young coconut- sold for $3.50 for only 1. But on the other hand, you had your fill of the milk and the fresh meat inside the coconut. Hard work though. Behind the counter, was the restaurant's heart. 3 middle-aged Chinese women: 1 near the window, sweating and counting as she filled a basket of rice noodles and plopped them into the steaming wok, overly seasoned with oil. 1, 2, 3, she heated them nice and hot and put them in their respective bowls and to-go containers on a secret shelf under the counter. The woman in the middle, the boss-woman. She answered the phone, always shouting at the customers: I CAN'T HEAR YOU. YOU HEAR ME? WHAT YOU WANT? as if she could hear more clearly if she yelled. The woman near the back of the space, she took the orders from the customers and tended to the rice cookers, which were always being filled and replaced. She got you your drinks, gave you your food and filled and emptied the dishwasher, tucked perfectly at the far end of the counter. Smoke filled the air, the temperature inside was hot. Bodies were warm, jackets were off, and I could feel the garlic and oil seeping into my hair, my skin, my eyes.
We waited almost an hour before they gave us our food. Something got lost along the way. The take-out orders, the new guests, our location at the far end, our starving bodies, aching stomachs. I almost suggested we leave. But, finally, my food arrived. I had given in to my carnivorous desires and ordered beef noodles in the house roasted garlic sauce. One taste and I almost keeled over. It was the most delightful food I had ever tasted. They weren't kidding. I added some sriracha and chili sauce, took a bite of the noodles. Took a bite of the meat. I closed my eyes and chewed. Slowly and patiently, allowing the juices to flow throughout my mouth and the chewed bits to roll over my tongue. I let it linger. Next came our 'appetizer,' samosas. Deep fried, curried potato, they were actually food gold nuggets. I was hooked. My friend's food still had yet to arrive, but she found delight in my beef noodles and the samosas. Finally, the stout woman in the back plopped her black bean fish down. Steam was rising off of her plate in heaps, and the smell of the fresh fish and veggies erupted into the air. I enjoyed her food as much as mine. Before long, we were stuffed to the brim and we could see the women eyeing our deliberate stay. But we wouldn't leave until we devoured every last bit. Well worth the wait.
This morning, I started off the day with a piece of tres leche cake. It is my birthday, so I obligingly agreed to a huge piece at breakfast. A good way to start off the day, I suppose. I also managed to eat 2 scrambled eggs with cheese, spinach and onions and homemade salsa, the Mexican way. A corn tortilla sealed the deal and while we ate, ideas of restaurant with big windows, wood floors and furniture, a fireplace, and a rooftop garden to make homemade salsas like Mommy, and innovative fusions of equal delight created a dream space that can truly only happen over a meal, at the kitchen table. A community space that brings together people from across barriers, across borders, across languages and across tastes and textures is a place that I want to create. One day.
After breakfast, I came back to Berkeley. In the fridge, I found 2 pieces of cake- one chocolate and one coconut, and fresh, handmade, homemade corn tortillas, all from Alice Waters' brother-in-law's Mexican restaurant, from the woman from whom I am renting a room. She must have read my mind about my burrito craving and I began getting beans ready for dinner. I didn't have black beans, so I started opted for garbanzo beans, which I brought with my from SoCal, in the hopes of making hummus, something which I still have yet to do.
Closer to dinner, I took out my bounty from the farmers market to survey my goods. I chopped 5 cloves of garlic, 3 long rainbow chard stems (I LOVE the colors of the yellows, pinks and oranges and reds with the leaves), plus tore the leaves in large pieces, half of a bell pepper, shucked the kernels off of an ear of corn, diced a tomato from my Oakland bounty, and cut up about half of a head of broccoli, including the stem, which I actually love the flavor, but does take longer to cook.
I accidentally burnt the chick peas, not realizing that they were done, and there was no more water to be absorbed, but it was only a slight char on the bottommost layer and I wasn't about to start all over again. I put the beans to the side and began with olive oil and garlic in a pan. I waited about 30 seconds until the garlic smelled and then added the chard stems and broccoli stems, stirring constantly to avoid burning the garlic. I did this all on low-warm setting heat because the stove here gets very hot very fast. I then added the broccoli heads and the pepper, letting it cook for about 4 minutes before adding in the tomatoes. I tried the chard stems and deeming them on the brink of being done- a slight bitter aftertaste, I added the chard leaves and put a cover on the pan to capture the heat. I let it sit for about 1-2 minutes and then stirred everything around for another minute. I removed this from the heat, added it to a bowl and added the corn and chopped a radish to add to it. I added a fair amount of garbanzo beans, trying to have a 60:40 ratio of beans:vegetables. I then toasted the tortillas and added cheddar cheese to melt on top of the tortilla. I added some chili-garlic sauce for a kick and though I was intending a burrito, ended up with more of a picking at the vegetables with the tortilla. I'll be having the second half tomorrow evening.
Ingredients
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
3 long stems of swiss chard, chopped, plus leaves, roughly torn
1/2 medium-sized head of broccoli
1/2 bell pepper
1 medium tomato
salt and pepper, to taste
1 small hot chili or crushed red pepper or hot sauce, optional
1/2-1 cup garbanzo beans
1 ear of corn, shucked
1 large radish, roughly chopped or sliced
cilantro and lime juice, optional
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