Recipe #3: Biscuits and Gravy

The Experience

The film Tampopo was a lighthearted look at life in Japan, and poked fun at the daily struggle and lengths people go to appear proper and "Japanese" at all times. It was also an anthropoligcal study, although scripted and controlled, of how something as simple as food permeates every aspect of life. Moving from one foodcentric scene to another, Tampopo explored the relationship between food and people--how food affects their survival, serves as a means to make a living, and how people become accustomed to having their food prepared and presented in a particular manner. How a person makes food, what they eat, and how they eat it become subjects of scrutiny and measures of their place in society's hierarchy. Food becomes a means conveying your love for your family, your appreciation for your customers, your means of opening your home to share with others. Certain foods envoke romantic feelings, and even play a role in human sexuality.

Much of the film focused on how particular foods provide comfort and emotional balance to individuals. Most of the characters in the film viewed a dish as simple bowl of ramen as essential to human existence, and they all had their own personal views on how Tampopo should prepare the perfect soup. Goro's quest for the perfect balance of ingredients, heat, texture, and amount was a quest of love--not for Tampopo herself, but for the love of a soup that was not only nourishing to the stomach, but also satisfying to the soul.

The Experiment

Each culture and social circle has their own set of comfort foods that provide the emotional balance between human and food sought by Goro. For this week's recipe, I prepared a dish that is popular in my family and social set: biscuits and gravy. Many of my friends ask to be notified whenever I make biscuits and gravy, so this recipe is a little larger to accomodate 10 people. The gravy was prepared in two different ways to accomodate both vegetarians and omnivores. Everyone tore in ate everything before I could get any pictures, but ultimately biscuits and gravy are more about taste than appearances anyway.

Biscuits (recipe taken from a classic Betty Crocker's Cookbook that I stole from my grandmother's kitchen--the only alteration I made to the recipe was subsituting the shortening for unsalted butter, because Crisco creeps me out)

1 cup unsalted butter
3 1/2 cups flour
5 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 c milk

Combine dry ingredients and add butter in small quantities, working it into the mixture with a fork until it looks dry and crumbly. Add milk slowly and knead until the dough forms a ball (add more flour to the outside and work it in if it is sticky). Roll out the dough to a 1/2 inch of thickness and use a glass or cookie cutter to cut it into circles. Bake at 450 degrees for 10-12 minutes, or until golden brown. Makes about 2 dozen biscuits.

Sausage/Mushroom Gravy (recipe also stolen from my grandmother)

I'm including both vegetarian and non-vegetarian preparation instructions.

10-12 pork or turkey sausage links (obviously not used in the vegetarian version)
4 tbsp sausage drippings or butter
4 tbsp gravy flour (I used Wondra)
4 cups heavy cream (gravy works with any dairy product down to 2% milk fat)
1 1/2 c chopped mushrooms
salt and pepper to taste

Heat drippings or melt butter on low. Add the flour one tbsp at a time, stirring it in with a fork until it forms a thick paste. Add the milk and increase heat to medium, and bring it to a boil, stirring constantly. Once the mixture boils, decrease heat to low and add mushrooms and sausage. Stir 2-5 minutes until the mushrooms soften. Serve hot--feeds 10-12 people.

Recipe #2: Bento

The Experience



I felt the act of preparing a bento box in class was a worthwhile activity that nicely punctuated Andrea Arai's presentation. I also liked the idea of swapping bentos with another classmate, as it offered a shared food experience that I have never had before. While I must admit that I did not enjoy the bento as a food item, the sharing aspect helped me to appreciate it as a cultural phenomenon.



I spent about 45 minutes putting my bento together. There was a big crowd at the rice pot, so for about the first 10 minutes I observed my fellow classmates as they assembled their boxes. Most seemed to be trending toward the "cute" versions of bento we saw in Ann's presentation; many of the riceballs had smiley faces, broccoli hair, radish clothing, or other distinguishing features. I preferred a simpler presentation, going for an architectural look that would be both appetizing and aesthetically pleasing. I found it to be very relaxing to select my items, dice them, and painstakingly place them in the box with chopsticks in an artful fashion.



Unfortunately, the second part of the activity was not as enjoyable for me (no offense to Chad). I was determined to eat everything in my bento, and did not give my partner any food restrictions. However, I am not a huge fan of fish products, and the first thing I bit into was some sort of soft fish cake that was highly unpleasant in both flavor and texture. I found the fish cake flavor remained in (which were all delicious). I enjoyed the pickled radish at first, but they were very salty, and my partner was a little liberal with their inclusion. I ate about three, however, they were extremely large and crunchy, and I couldn't bring myself to eat any more of them. I had asked specifically for the pickled plum inside my rice ball, and I found it to be overpoweringly sour, although the rice diffused some of the saltiness, making it tolerable.




For me, the preparation of the bento was the most fun part of the activity. It was hands on and creative, and really gave me an appreciation for the effort exerted by the Japanese mothers in Alison's article in making bentos for their children. In Japan, the bento serves as both a mid-afternoon snack and a source of comfort for the child; for the mothers, it is a way to express their love for their family, and also acts as an outlet for them to express their creativity.



The Experiment



JT's Bento Box (prepared in class for Chad)



1 small candied fish

1 rice ball with pickled plum and nori

1 small hot green pepper

1 broccoli flowerette

6 edamame

2 pickled radishes, 1 red, 1 yellow

1 tamago square

1 small bunch seaweed salad

soy sauce to taste



The first thing I did was use the mold to prepare the rice ball, in which I included the pickled plum. I wrapped it with a sheet of nori, and used nori slivers to accent the diamond shape on the top, and lightly sprinkled it with the Japanese seasoning. Chad requested that I include the candied fish in his box, so I wanted to make sure it was prominently featured on top of the rice ball. He also said he had an adventurous palate, so I added one of the hot peppers, in order to both add a little heat to the fish and to serve as an aesthetic counterbalance.



Next, I placed a small bunch of seaweed salad in a cup next to the rice ball to serve as sort a nest for the vegetables. I placed the broccoli in the top left corner and the soy sauce container in the opposite one, so they would frame and hold up the remaining ingredients. Next, I sliced the egg into three pieces, and placed it below the broccoli. Placing the soybeans was the most difficult part of the preparation for me, as the seaweed nest was pretty slippery, and the beans wanted to slide around, despite the containment provided by the other ingredients. I thought the pickled radishes were too large to be aesthetically pleasing as is, so I slivered them and placed them on the top of the salad, in alternating colors.

Recipe #1: Organic Vegetarian Lasagne (P)

The Experience

Both the trip to the UW Student Farm and the article The Cuba Diet got me thinking of organic farming as a viable and sustainable food source. The Student Farm was rather small, yet Ann stated that it yields enough produces to supply food to all of the volunteers, and to donate a portion of the harvest to a charity organization. Cuba's switch from the mechanized farming methods imported from the USSR back to crop-growing methods involving manual labor transformed the island into a self-sustaining community, producing enough to feed a starving nation after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Both of these farming methods also use little to no pesticides, theoretically leading to a healthier, more "natural" vegetable.

Based on the readings and the activities in class, I decided to make a dish made from all organic ingredients. I decided on a vegetarian lasagne, and set out to the supermarket to gather the necessary supplies. I quickly found out that unless the organic produce is produced in your own backyard, it is not the most efficient way to obtain your food. I had to travel to three different markets to find all of the material. Addtionally, an all organic meal in Seattle is alarmingly pricey, particularly for the dairy products. In total, I spent $112 on the ingredients, which produced only one (fairly large) lasagne.

I also had some concerns about the quality of the some the produce. Because it was grown without pesticides, the spinach I used had some holes in it and seemed dry, dull colored and less appetizing in comparison its chemically treated counterparts. Similarly, the mushrooms were smaller and less appealing than the non-organic options I saw. The tomatoes were uncharacteristically dark, which lead to a slightly murky looking sauce. Other than these visual discrepancies, however, there was no other noticeable differences between the organic ingredients and those I usually buy.


I made all the components of the lasagne from scratch, with the exception of the pasta; this included a bechemel sauce and a marinara, which I had not made before. All recipes were adapted from my favorite cookbook, How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman, which presents even complicated recipes into straightforward instructions that were easy to comprehend. In the spirit of the Kaluli, we invited the neighbors over to share our food. Overall, we all rated the flavor of the dish as excellent, while appearance critiques ranged from good to very good (I rated it good). While the overall experience of preparing an organic vegetarian lasagne was a positive one, the effort involved to find the ingredients and the cost would deter me from repeating it--unless, of course, I cultivated most of the ingredients by myself. Clearly, self-sustaining farming methods work better when you practice them yourself.

The Experiment

Organic Vegetarian Lasagne (adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman)

16 oz lasagne noodles
16 oz mozzerella cheese
8 oz ricotta or cottage cheese
4 oz parmesan cheese
3 cups spinanch
3 cups mushroom marina sauce
3 cups bechemel sauce


The preparation of the finished lasagne is the easy part. Place a layer of bechemel sauce at the bottom of the pan, add a layer of noodles, a layer of marinara sauce, a layer of spinach, a layer of mozzerella and parmesan cheese, a layer of ricotta cheese, a layer of bechemel sauce. Repeat until you are sick of doing so, or you run out of pan space. Top with mozzerella and parmesan cheese (for future lasagnes, I will also add bread crumbs to this mixture for additional crustiness). Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes, and at 400 degrees for 15 minutes to brown the cheese on top. Serves at least 4 with leftovers for everyone's lunch tomorrow, and probably up to 8 people.


Organic Mushroom Marinara

28 oz can of whole tomatoes
3 cups portabello mushrooms, diced
1 bunch green onion or 1 shallot (I used green onion)
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt, pepper, and sugar to taste


In a large skillet, heat the olive oil and add the onion. Saute the onions in the oil on medium heat for about 5 minutes, then add the mushroom. Saute an additional 5-7 minutes, and add the tomatoes. With a fork, smash the tomatoes in the onion and mushroom mixture. Turn the heat up to medium high and cook uncovered about 10 minutes, or until the tomatoes break down and get "saucy." Add salt and pepper to taste. I found the finished sauce to be a bit tangy, but two teaspoons of sugar balanced the acid nicely.


Organic Bechemel Sauce

3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons flour
3 cups reduced fat (2%) milk
salt and pepper

In a pan, melt the butter on a low heat. Add the flour one tablespoon at a time, mixing it into the melted butter with a fork. Once the combination forms a thick roux, add the milk and increase the heat to medium. Stirring constantly with the fork, bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce heat and stir with a fork until it thickens. I actually added a bit more milk at this point, as I felt the sauce was too thick. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Pre-Blogging Free Write (P)

One of the main reasons that I learned to cook in the first place is that my mother is a terrible cook. Her standard mode of operation when it came to making food was the casserole. I suspect she did this because it didn't require her to be creative in regard to preparation--just cut everything up, mix it up in some noodles, throw a can of cream of mushroom soup over the top, and bake it for an hour. Her devotion to the casserole format is legendary amongst my siblings and me. In a sense, she was more creative than she thought, since there was seemingly no limit to the ingredient list. Anything could be turned into a casserole.

I always thought the casserole was a universal dish, but since moving out of Minnesota fifteen years ago, I've learned that most people didn't eat it five nights a week. Often the original casserole would be prepared on a Monday, with a new ingredient added to the leftovers each day to "improve the flavor", so that by Friday, it had merged into some sort of gray almagamation of whatever happened to be in the refrigerator. At the beginning of the week, the casserole would be somewhat palatable, and each ingredient would have its own identifiable taste. By the end of its life, it would take on a sort of muddy everyfood flavor, much like I imagine eating the remnants of a garbage disposal would taste.

When I was about fifteen, I began to experiment with cooking, and serving what I had made with my family. Since our meals had basically been limited to casseroles and whatever my father could barbeque, this trend of eating food without pasta or scorch marks, quickly caught on in my family, and I became the primary chef for the household. Eighteen years after my first cooking experience, I still have yet to make a casserole.