snack Tag

corn and seaweed tempura popper


Before talking corny, you know how sometimes when parents, despite their best intentions no doubt, can suffocate us with all their unnecessary concerns followed by… uh… understandably agitating gestures?  God don’t you just hate that? So freaking un-cool is what it is!  And just to make it perfectly clear before I confess anything, I am still with you.  You know, “Team Kids”.  But yesterday… I think I may have done exactly that… ok and then some.

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cherry tomato vinaigrette and gorgonzola bruschetta


Dear shrink, I’m… wondering if I can now be qualified for that zoloft + xanax prescription we talked about last time, you know, and let’s throw in a couple of diazepam for good measure while we’re at it?  I assure you that I have no previous record of substance abuse, in fact, I hardly drink alcohol for God sake, oh why because I’m naturally fun.  But you see, it’s my kids… my kids who are competing in a race to my emotional hell by turning rotten-sick on me one after the other.  Oh HELL, it’s even making me babble uncontrollably about it on my food-blog, right, a FOOD-blog that’s supposed to be about escaping to gastronomic neverland,  not… Anderson Pooper on real world shit…  Damn it!  What the hell am I talking about, you see?  I need meds!

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the infinite kitchen sink hand pie


Sometimes I get a little personal when I take a stroll through the expansive, razzle-dazzling and star-crusted cosmic jungle that is food-blogosphere.  I really don’t mean to compare I really don’t.  Wise man once said that… “Go… just do your own things” or something… you know but put in a MUCH more profound and scholarly terms.  But the thing is (and it’s a big thing) that I can’t help but feeling like Gimli the dwarf when self-put besides the others, whom I’d like to call the blogger-elves of the Woodland Realm (birds chirping pls) because I mean really, just REALLY, do people SERIOUSLY live like that?  Prancing with in-season-only, tree-ripen fruits and vegetables galore by the farm-stands and POOF! an effortless display of fairy-salad and angel-tarts on a oh-my-granny-just-left-me-this antique table.  Or picking WILD FLOWERS in pastel tea-dresses surrounded by rainbow and songs and THAT’S what she EATS on weekends!?  For REALZ?  I bet their body parts self-shave, too…

Yeah.  I’m jealous.

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Dan Dan Your Face Off


I’m gonna be away for the entire next week…… (walking away from the computer and doing a little touch-down dance…)(wait… wait for it…)(OK I’m back).  Tagging along on her husband’s every single business trip to Hong Kong may not be the idea of a modern woman, but for me it’s as simple as the most basic survival instinct.  I just have to get the hell outta this, this and this whenever I can.


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Kimchi Meatloaf Melt


Because of this, Jason and I had almost nothing but a bottle of soy sauce to sip on Chinese new year’s eve.  Because of my fixation on having something called a “meatloaf melt” in my archive, I was giddying and bustling in the kitchen the night before NOT on a Chinese feast but an American staple with a Korean twist.  Because nowadays I am more a traffic-seeker than a considerate home-cook, we desperately loitered on the deserted Beijing streets only few hours before new year’s eve dinner, earmuffs and Uggs equipped and all, bracing an empty pot from home meant as a carrier for hot-pot soup which turned out was irresponsibly gone on holiday as well.  Like I said, almost nothing to eat.


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I-Think-It’s-Asian Porchetta Sandwich

porchetta sandwich featured header


Jason took a bite and asked me with his very “lardy” mouth, “Why is this Asian?”  Well… I suppose because… “The marinade.”  I answered affirmatively with secretly not-so-affirmative doubts.  I mean can I call it “Asian” because the pork marinade is mainly FISH SAUCE, and that there’s GINGER in the aioli, and that the chili is inspired by a HUNAN dish?  Yes.  Yes, I think I can.  So bear with me.  If there’s any dispute over how I name my articles, please do so kindly remember that I AM a self-proclaimed confused individual.  OR IF I’m just being self-consciously hypersensitive…  In that case, forget what I said and carry on.


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