Seafood

PORKY, GINGERY SHRIMP TOASTS

“HAS IT BECOME OBVIOUS?  I LIKE SHRIMPS”

Can I rudely leave you alone with this crunchy… buttery… porky, gingery shrimpy thingy today even though you were just introduced?  Not that you’ll need any persuasions to take them home to your bed, but you know, I still feel like explaining myself why I’m in such a hast today.  Well, first, It’s been the third consecutive “blue sky day” here in Beijing which is as rare as a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade through The Black Gate of Mordor, so yes first, I think I should step outside my nest.  Secondly, yesterday as I was routinely sipping my afternoon joe while courting my laptop, through the misty reflection of the screen I saw there he was… Rebeus Hagrid, in his bad hair-day.  So yes secondly, I think I should step outside my nest.  Thirdly, there’s a fabulous red skirt from Zara with my hip’s name on it.

First-second-who?

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THE TYPHOON-SHELTER GARLIC SHRIMP

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“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY TYPHOON SHELTER?”

I.  CAN’T.  STAND.  THIS.  ANYMORE!

What the hell’s going on?  Is… is there a forest fire nearby?  Nope, I don’t think so!  Has a meteor hit China and created tidal waves of dust clouds that’s taking forever to settle?  Nope, nope but I wish!  But then what the hell in this apocalyptic country is going on that I can’t see beyond five buildings for the past five six consecutive days?!  I mean seriously, I could duct tape myself naked to the window and I doubt my neighbours would have enough visibility to notice!  I could hang a freakin’ brisket outside my apartment and it’d be smoked up like hickory and death!  I’d laugh at these photos if I hadn’t realized I live here, too…

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GREEN BUTTER GRILLED OYSTERS

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Argh!  Family holidays (Yes, mom, what!?)… the only kind that (wait, can’t you see that I”m… what?!) leaves you more stressed than rested (no, NO, for the last time I don’t want to eat with Uncle I-don’t-actually-know-you again!) afterwards…

As I’m still peddling through mine, I’ll quickly leaving you an awesome party appetizer idea that acts like a bread-dip that comes with its own serving-dish!  One of the most fiercely beautiful and yummy thing I made before I began my Christmas stress-a-thon, when I could still take a piss without anxiety.  So enjoy.  It’s almost New Years Eve.  Breath in… breath out…

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SPICY SALMON MINI HAND ROLLS

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Let me cut to the chase with this one.  Because along with what has officially come as the “holiday/party season”, also came a bubbling frenzy of ideas that harasses my otherwise unambitious nature to just relax through it all.  I mean really, really self-tormenting thoughts, such as the fixation on the idea of a Christmas goose (goose!… I must’ve lost my mind.), the racing finger-snapping sounds that repeats “hors d’oeuvre, hors d’oeuvre, hors d’oeuvre!” and then “cookies, cookies, cookies!”, plus a reignited and very unhealthy obsession to tackle the ever–evil, ever-defiant croissant dough which, let’s not kid ourselves, will end in tears (I wonder where that came from…).  All in all I mean, I’m busy.

But then, speaking of hors d’oeuvre…

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RED HOT OYSTER+KIMCHI DRESSING

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I thought I was going to forfeit the ticket to this year’s Thanksgiving recipe frenzy.  I thought, for some strange reason, that this year’s Thanksgiving is sitting (impossibly…) on November 18th, and that by the time around November 12th when I start to entertain the idea of a Thanksgiving recipe, that it would already be too late…  After all, I heard this is a holiday meal that people plan ahead for.  I heard that even before the first leaf turned brown, the happy Californian designer-turkeys still obliviously eating their organic feeds, have no idea that someone in New York has already claimed the right to carve them apart and break their wishbones in two months-time.  Better not tell them is what I think.

So the point is, a few days ago I suddenly realized I do have time this year, that it wasn’t too late.  I could still do this!  I could still… well, here’s where I ran into another problem.

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HOW TO KILL AN OYSTER

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Behold, the months marked with the letter “R” are already upon us, and as you may have been once told in stories, that this is the time a particular… defiant kind of sea monsters roam wild and await the braves who dare to challenge.  Enlightened by ancient (probably also desperately hungry) wisdoms who discovered that there are briny, delicious glories hidden inside these ugly and unseemly creatures with tough shells, courageous heroes have charged fearlessly to claim the price (literally charged for it), while the most and rest of us timidly standing on the sideline, too daunted by their impossible presence (and being charged for it).  But this year, this year the fear stops.  This year, this year we stop feeling belittled.  Grab the swords (sort of), and with the help of a mighty hammer (non-lightening charged), we are going to defeat these monsters once and for all, and feast on their flesh.  Because you know what, the difficulty is all but myth, and the deliciousness is not.

You don’t need a professional or a demi-god for that matter.  Because this, this is how mortals kill a sea monsters.

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SALMON POKE-D YOU. YOU SHOULD POKE BACK

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Two weeks ago when I stood in front of the ordering-counter in the most celebrated poke (a Hawaiian appetizer mostly made with raw seafood and other seasonings) joint in Honolulu, I found myself deep, once again, in a familiar dilemma.  I could on one hand, dig through the baffling complicatedness for the source of the tuna without certainty on any given answers which would probably result in an ill-informed purchase anyways, or, I could entirely forgo the option of tuna as a food source just as I’ve been doing for quite awhile now.  After all, I hadn’t tasted a bite of tuna, raw, cooked or canned for let’s say… almost 3 years.

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insights to your shrimp dumplings

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There are days, you know,  not everyday, but days when I really… hate this.  I mean, what is this anyways?  A self-published “web-blog” about me making dinner.  Talk about being a loving sponge when it comes to self-absorbing not to mention a shameless evasion from unemployment.  Oops, did I not mention that?  As many more dignified others who might do this as a hobby aside, I on my other sorry hand, just do this.  No other self-sustaining professions at day, heck or even a non-profit charity to excuse myself of, it’s a testimony of prolonged immaturity and chronic, explicit laziness, hardly anything to be carved on my tombstone.  So yeah, as this self-absorbing continues, sometimes I really hate this.

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