Book Bait: The Hulk, Dry-fried Green Hot Wings

[ezcol_1half] WHAT:  In a shameless campaign to drum up anticipation for our upcoming cookbook, The Art of Escapism Cooking - A Survival Story, today I am launching a new recipe series with a very self-serving, absolutely no-good intent.  Lady and gentlemen, may I present to you, The Book Bait.  What are book baits you ask.  Well, they are brand new recipes that are not in the cookbook but however, in order to make them, you will need an essential component from the book to complete which, yes, is not yet published until October 15, 2019.  And yes, I am willing to do that to you to sell books. WHY:  Aside from the main motive to get you to pre-order the book (and you can do it here, here and here!), the inspiration for creating this recipe series - if there is still room for this argument - is not entirely corrupt.  There is a chapter inside the book called Condiments, consisting of sauces and spice-mixtures that are used more than once throughout the book.  But since the wrapping-up of the book, I continued to unearth new and exciting ways to utilize them that are too good to be left unbothered.  Which brings

Cookbook Preview – Shrimp wontons w/ spicy coconut shrimp oil

[ezcol_1half] FYI, There is an entire chapter in our cookbook with delicious little morsels recipes just like this.  Preorder your copy now! [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] Here is another recipe preview from our cookbook - The Art of Escapism Cooking that is coming out on Oct 15th! This recipe has many components - slippery, bouncy, rich, tangy, spicy, creamy - working collectively and in balance to support what is ultimately a perfect shrimp wonton.  The idea was born out of my desire to eat a bowl of shrimp wontons where the shrimp-ness is celebrated in more ways than one, and to reminisce the time when I was little when I would always try to gather the dark orange oil from my mother's pan-fried shrimps and spoon it over my rice while sucking on the shrimp heads till my brain hurt.   No other person in the family did that.  And this is my way of doubling-down on their loss. As previous recipe preview, I will include the entire intro and instructions exactly as it will appear in the book.  Reading back, this one in particular was undoubtedly written on a day of great angst and bitterness (insert lol emoji).  Thing is, the way I approached writing a recipe

LET’S FILL THAT BOWL ON THIS SUPER !!!

IN THE NAME OF SPORTS, IT'S TIME TO EAT OURSELVES TO A CELLULITE-D IMMOBILE PULP Right, let's face it. Who are we kidding? The only thing sporty about me is that I could, maybe, jump over a puddle if my life depends on it. My Dad was really into sports when I was growing up, he still is. He's constantly looking at US sportsbooks and judging what to bet on next, it's quite interesting to watch really! But that doesn't mean you wouldn't want someone like me at the party this Sunday - while the gang rouse up above a borderline-patriotic roar towards the flatscreen, beers blazing and testosterone bursting - who sinks into the couch giggling at her phone whilst watching French bulldog puppies on youtube. Why, because my friends, I'm the one who's gonna bring the kool-Aid. It doesn't even matter if you don't like sports, nearly everyone watches the Super Bowl. Many people get into their comfies, or even their sportswear to really get in the mood, and settle down to watch one of the biggest events of the year. My friend buys a new trackuit every year the Superbowl is on - you can click

“PRINCE” SPICY NOODLE CHIPS

"WE ALL KNOW HIM, A PUNK PRINCE WITH A BASEBALL CAP" This story of the distortion or/rebirth of a Prince, is either going to sound savagely wrong or/wistfully nostalgic, depending on whether or not you came from an island called Taiwan in all its quiet and subordinate existence just southeast of China.  You're looking at something called the wang-zi (prince) mian (noodle).  The extent of its popularity outside of Taiwan is a less certain matter but yeah, we all certainly know him, the punk-looking prince with a hideous baseball cap on a bright yellow and red-striped plastic bag, with a brick of fried noodles and seasonings inside.  Cup Noodles in bag-form. Except for the obvious disconnection between his look and the word "Prince", there was nothing out of the ordinary.  His journey only grew remarkable at a historic moment when he, among other bugs and such, became the victim of children's relentless savagery which left him deformed. Because the thing is, wang-zi-mian was never meant to be a snack.  It was meant to be cooked in boiling water like any proper instant noodle soups, as practiced in any other civilized culture with attention to rules.  But somewhere back in time, a reckless kid decided to spare

POST-HAWAII BLUE & COFFEE CRUSTED NUTS

The danger is real. There's a paradise out there. You can't move two steps without hearing old-time tales of unsuspecting wanderers who passed by and never left, got sucked in by that boundless flickering of Pacific blues so wicked that they dared plunging into the terrifying anxiety of a slowed down life. Made home, even a family, grew roots. Their next generation, born-and-raised, has fascinating stories to tell about their unwavering connections to being the children of these captivating islands, seeding ideas inside visitors with a less affirmative mind such as myself who all, at one point or another, fondled the unthinkable

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