056: The Tri-Delta Variant
We've been waiting for you all summer and we're so glad you're finally here
(SB) Hi there, sweet and sweaty readers. As we nestle more deeply into the humid armpit of July, I’m making an effort to cultivate the version of myself that embraces the potential for pleasure in our high intensity weather. So far, that has meant a few sweaty crosstown walks on the days that don’t have heat advisories, lots of water, and a near limitless allowance for iced coffee (JS: allyship). It’s a strange thing, the cautious return to an older pacing of life. Despite my tendency to wilt in the heat, returning to the movies (IFC for a matinee of Working Girls) and the theater (Jake had an extra ticket to Get on Your Knees, and I can’t recommend enough!) has made my summer feel off to an optimistic clop. I’m also dipping my toes back into a little archival research at the NYPL, fully open this week. The task is pretty physically demanding, necessitating long periods of time without eating or drinking and a return to the uniquely frustrating posture required to scan images while anxiously pondering “But should I be focused on writing?” Basically, I am once again reminded that both our bodies and our minds seem to be inescapable prisons!
In between all of that, here’s what I got up to eating:
A farro salad, doused in tahini ranch that left me a little underwhelmed, if I’m honest.
Lots of on the go eats: summer rolls, banh mi, and a truly mind-blowing Chanh Muối limeade from Banh Mi Zon; guokui from my beloved Crop Circle (which was not closed, after all!)
An extremely tasty vegetarian spread from Jiang Diner, which (soon to be!) friend of the newsletter Minju and I stumbled on trying to get out of the rain.
(JS) Friends, I hope this newsletter finds you calm, cool, and collected, what with the onslaught of >90° days after a long weekend of mostly shit weather and the disappointing news that Gwen Stefani and Bl*ke Sh*lton have finally tied the knot. (SB: something something, wedding season.) I managed to flee the city once again and hunkered down with some friends in Ulster County, spending the holiday much as the founding fathers intended: inhaling cider donuts (seasonality who?), somewhat condescendingly ooh-ing and aah-ing at the natural wine selection in a ~hamlet~ without a proper grocery store, and streaming the new Doja Cat on repeat (good, if too long), with intermittent breaks to catch up on Top Chef (disappointing), RHONY (also disappointing), and a rather poorly edited but expertly advertised Ghislaine Maxwell documentary on Peac*ck (once more, disappointing, but perhaps I should have expected that from the mostly free platform practically begging me to stream Boss Baby 2).
Cider donuts aside, I’ve leaned into seasonal eating and anti-recipe improv pretty hard, enjoying bites of the following:
Watermelon with lots of lime juice, coarse salt, and fresh mint
Freestyled shrimp dumplings, including filling by friend of the newsletter Aud and wrappers by friend of the newsletter Ava
Yet another sour cherry nectarine pie, as well a black raspberry iteration on this newsletter’s favorite strawberry cobbler, with fruit foraged from the sidewalks of Marlboro, New York
HOT IN HERRE: Kongguksu
(SB) Some years ago, Jake and I were both part of a cookbook club that met every six weeks or so. We ate, we drank, and generally had a nice time cooking a big dinner from one cookbook. I believe it was for one of these meetings that I purchased a very large bag of dried soybeans, a very small number of which I braised and glazed. The remainder have sat in my pantry, waiting for their time to shine. Luckily for them, our back-to-back heat waves have sent me searching for meals that feel cooling (preferably in deep, existential ways). What I found was kongguksu, a Korean summertime dish of cold noodles in an icey soy milk broth, topped with matchstick cucumbers and sesame seeds.
Using this recipe from Kay Chun via the NYT as my guide, I awoke and soaked some soybeans the other day, mindful of the coming heat advisory. After about 8 sweaty hours, the soaked soybeans had begun to release a few skins, and I transferred them to a pot, covered them in cool water, and brought them to a rapid boil before reducing the heat. I let the beans cook for about 12 minutes, before draining the hot water and putting them in an ice bath. Following Kay’s guidance, I swirled them around the ice bath (no complaints from my submerged hands), gently loosening and discarding almost all of the soybean skins. Then, the beans were blended with some water and salt until smooth. Rumor (NYT comment) has it that some add sugar into their kongguksu broth here… kugel fans, take note. In my trusty Cuisinart blender, there was still a little texture to this soymilk broth; I didn’t mind, but, for the record, do covet a Vitamix. A little comparative kongguksu research suggested that adding some pine nuts or walnuts to the broth might have been a tasty idea-- alas, I had neither on hand.
I stored the soymilk in the fridge overnight, and poured it over prepared (cold!!!) buckwheat noodles just as my apartment was beginning to feel unlivable. Topped with plenty of cucumber, some scallion kimchi, and sesame seeds, it was cool, savory, and almost soothing. I strongly suspect it’s about to become a summertime staple.
AEGEAN ASPIRATIONS: Midye Dolma
(JS) Last week’s foray into lettuce sarma reminded me of another Turkish delight that’s a perfect, if slightly labor-intensive, mezze for high summer entertaining – midye dolma, or stuffed mussels, filled with aromatic, bejeweled rice and served cold with a hearty squeeze of lemon. It’s not often that I’ll recommend street mollusks (lest we forget my brief tenure as a teenage greenmarket fishmonger coupled with a general sense of snobbery), but if you find yourself strolling around Istanbul (see aforementioned snobbery) I’d suggest sampling some from the street vendors, sold by the piece from open carts heaped with ice. However, if you’re staying local this summer, rest assured – with a little planning and ideally some nimble-fingered company, you too can enjoy these cuties in the comfort of your home. Labor aside, midye dolma are an appealing and unexpected alternative to moules frites (since I think we can all agree the best part is usually the frites, and if there’s one thing we know it’s that I’m weird about deep frying at home), particularly when temperatures are soaring.
I used a recipe published in Robyn Eckhardt’s Istanbul and Beyond, which includes a rather moreish filling anchored in caramelized onions accompanied by currants and pine nuts. In the headnote, she offers a note about speeding up the caramelization process by borrowing a technique from Kenji Lopez-Alt – IMHO it doesn’t save enough time to warrant the swap, but feel free to try it yourself (or take a tip from my co-editor and make a big ol’ batch of hands-free slow cooker alliums). Otherwise, the filling is prepared more or less as you would for vegetable dolma, par cooking rice and seasoning it heavily, then cooling to room temperature. Robyn recommends making the rice a full day ahead, so it can absorb the flavors overnight in the fridge.
When you’re ready to stuff, place your cleaned mussels in a bowl and add warm salted water to cover. After a few minutes in this bath, the bivalves should relax and start to open up (I can’t quite connect the dots to make this joke but… something about bivalves opening up), making it easy to slip a knife around the edge of the shell and cut through the hinge mussel. Experienced shuckers should have no problem with this maneuver, but this is not an invitation to get cocky – cut resistant gloves are always a good idea, if you have them (we, like GP, have our eyes on this one). Using a small spoon or your fingers, loosely fill the mussel with your cooled filling – you want to allow room for the filling to expand when it steams, so don’t overdo it. Gently press the halves together, wipe excess from the edges, and place in the bottom of a wide, lidded pot. Ideally you want a vessel large enough to steam them in a single layer, but you can get away with two or three if necessary. Add a shallow layer of water to the bottom of the pan then bring to a boil. Cover with weighted parchment paper, then place the lid on the pan and simmer for 20 or so minutes, adding more water if necessary. Allow the mussels to cool in the covered pan for at least an hour, then place in the fridge to chill, preferably overnight. Enjoy with fresh lemon and your best Lindsay Lohan 2016-2017 accent.
ASPARAGUS & LEEK SOUP
(SB) Even though I (obviously) take great pleasure in preparing and eating food, I do find myself enveloped in a cloud of sloth and inaction as dinnertime looms fairly often. In these times, I wish I was more of a prepper, thinking about meals the way I imagine that many parents of small children do. In this fantasy, my ability to produce dinner is bolstered by standing grocery lists and a beloved bench of simple recipes made often enough to do off book in under 30 minutes. This soup, which I learned from my mom (who learned from my great aunt) on a recent trip home, would almost certainly have a prized seat on it. If you sub in olive oil for the butter, it’s also vegan.
Begin by heating cooking fat (olive oil, a little butter, a bit of both) in a pot. Add in the whites of two leeks and a bunch of asparagus, both roughly chopped and sautee. Salt. My instinct was to begin with the leeks and then add in the asparagus, but I quelled that voice when learning this recipe and found that it worked just as well this way, with the added benefit of a “throw it all in!” joie de vivre. When the leeks are translucent, add in a scant cup of water, or less, if you’d like things to stay thicc. Let everything come to a simmer and cover for a few minutes. After things have softened considerably, throw in a few chopped leaves of basil (JS: Ok, Walt).
In the spirit of adaptation, I think you could also throw in other seasonings and/or spices here. But part of the beauty of this recipe for me was how little thought it demands, so I’ll leave those diversions to you. YMMV.
If you’re blessed with a strong and powerful blender, transfer the mixture into it and blend until smooth. If you’re living an immersion blender life, blend directly in the pot until everything looks lusciously creamy. Top with cracked pepper, goat cheese (or feta!) and basil chiffonade.
PERMANENT ROTATION: Shortbreads from our seemingly still unproblematic white woman fave Melissa Clark. Real fans will recall these one-bowl wonders take kindly to cannabutter, and we imagine the same could be said of these brownie-topped beauties.
WISH LIST
(SB) I’ve had an irresponsible verve for online shopping of late. Next on my “summer-ready” list will be some large mason jars for pickling lemons, extra large silicone ice cube trays for watermelon slush and cold brew cubes, and a chic but dependable bag that will a) fit my water bottle b) reassure me of my wallet not falling out c) have a couple of pockets. Any suggestions?
(JS) I want a Zeroll ice cream scoop – a friend of the newsletter who shall not be named tragically ran mine through the dishwasher many apartments ago, removing its famously non-dishwasher-safe coating and rendering the heat-conductive core useless.
(SB & JS) A different mayor? JK hahaha… unless… we missed our window for homemade nocino this year, but if any of our Buckeye State readers care to hook us up with a bottle of Watershed Distillery’s barrel-finished finest, we’d be forever grateful.