I AM Asian!

My friend Chris is an amazing cook. Lucky for his wife Cassie, he cooks for her every night. If I was married to Chris, I'd be a tub o' lard, but Cassie's one skinny biotch...I hate her. But this post isn't about Cassie, nor is it about Chris. Surprise, surprise, it's about me. More specifically, it's about me & Asian cooking. The reason I bring up Chris is because he knows how to make incredible Asian food.

I was not a big Asian culinary fan. In fact, the first time I had sushi, I cried. I cried because my dad was forcing me to try it, and I didn't want to. Embarrassing to say, but I wasn't seven. More like seventeen. Not only was I spoiled, but I was a big cry baby until I graduated college. I also remember hating Thai food. My friends who had started exploring all these different types of foods, having finally left home to go to college, introduced me to some peanut sauce chicken dish & something else I can't remember. (They were going to UCLA hanging out at hip restaurants on Melrose while I was eating tacos at Roberto's taqueria down in San Diego.) I thought it was disgusting & stayed away from Thai food for ten years.

I had always been a finicky eater, and even though I lived in Korea until age ten, I grew up eating steaks, roasts & rotisserie chicken every week. Yes, I was a huge meat eater & liked my food kinda bland. Oh yeah, I loved, loved cheese. (Not many people ate cheese back then in the old country, and according to my family, probably the reason why I have White people's B.O. & have to wear deodorant when no other Koreans do. Did I mention they don't sell deodorants in Korea?)

So anyway, Vietnamese, Indian, Japanese, Thai...none of their foods fared well with me. (I did like Chinese, but not the super ethnic dishes.) But after moving to San Francisco, I gradually began to explore the Orient, and actually learned to like their foods even though I still preferred Italian, Spanish, Mexican, and French restaurants over Asian. It was during this time that I also discovered I was a pretty good cook. Have no idea how that came about as I grew up never having to lift a finger. We had a cook & a maid growing up in Korea, and when we moved to the States, my mom would get our meals from a restaurant or a caterer & pretend she made it. (She was a horrible cook.)

Well, I began throwing dinner parties once I moved out on my own, and realized how much I enjoyed entertaining. That tradition continued here in Salt Lake City. Amazingly, the group of friends I made here are also fantastic cooks, and that's when I experienced Chris' Asian cooking. He had all sorts of Asian sauces & ingredients in his kitchen...stuff I had never seen or heard of before. I mean, my kitchen was filled with spices & oils, but nothing that came close to what he had in his kitchen. You'd think he & Cassie were Asian by the looks of their kitchen. They even had a wok! I never had a wok until recently. I remember once when Chris was making dinner, I volunteered to make the rice. He seemed hesitant to let me do it, but I said, "C'mon Chris. I'm Asian. It's in my genes...I know how to make rice. Let me do it."

I burned the bottom of his pot (the rice on the bottom burned while the rest was mushy.) The truth is, I can't make rice. The irony is (being Asian & all), being a skillful cook as I've been praised of being, when it comes to making food from the Orient, I suck...I mean royally suck. I even mess up rice in the rice cooker. Chris won't let me go near his rice anymore, and he gives me this look like, and you call yourself Asian, you fraud.

So, I've been on a mission to change this. I've been practicing, with not much success at first; but this last weekend, I went back to the Chinese Market (Chris & Cassie turned me on to this place). Even though I wanted to gag because it smells real funky in there, I roamed around for about an hour & spent about sixty dollars. (That's a ton considering this place is super duper cheap.) I brought home all that stuff Chris has in his kitchen & more, and began cooking up Chinese & Thai all this week. The first attempt was disastrous. The Chinese eggplant dish was bitter & the meat tasted like barf. The rice was like porridge, and once again, I failed it in the rice cooker.

The next day, I tried Thai. I attempted at Pad Thai. I almost choked on it because the noodle was still hard & stiff. (Don't understand why I can't boil it like pasta...the recipe calls for soaking in warm, not hot, but warm water.) The lemon grass soup was pretty decent, but hot as hell. Tears were rolling down my cheeks because it was so damn spicy.

Thank god my aunt & cousin came over for dinner yesterday. (Yes, Alex was in town for a few days for those of you who thought I was lying to leave Park City early.) I couldn't make them be my guinea pigs, so I made shrimp & chicken Paella...a Spanish rice dish. It was fabulous. My first decent meal all week. What is wrong with me? Why can't I make Asian food?!

Well today, I attempted Thai again. My friend Eve stopped by with some clothes. She tried the Pad Thai & thought it was pretty good. The noodles were soft. It actually wasn't too bad this time. Of course after she left, I found two ingredients by the sink I forgot to add, but at least the noodles were soft. I also made this squid dish. Never touched raw squid before. I was kinda grossed out by it, but needed the practice for my seafood Paella & my future Calamari. So I persevered and sliced the heads off. It turned out pretty good, too. And finally, my jasmine rice was perfect. It didn't burn the pan (I forewent the rice cooker).

I was worried that I would forever be dubbed the Asian who couldn't make rice, but I believe I've turned a new leaf. I can make rice, god damn it! Just watch me make that sticky rice in that urn with the hat. (That last sentence is for Chris.)