Gotcha!

Oh soy. How I love thee.
Seriously, my life would be pretty miserable without soy sauce.  Methinks.  Or at least quick and easy weeknight dinners would be more difficult.  Behold the magic soy sauce glaze recipe.

Basic Soy Glaze

2/3 cup water
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 Tbs sugar
ginger juice

Dump the water, soy sauce and sugar in a pot.
Ginger juice (grated ginger wrapped in cheesecloth and squeezed) can be added to taste.
Bring to a boil and add your main ingredient.
Reduce heat to a simmer over med-low. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until liquid has cooked into a glaze.
Stir to coat everything, serve.

The list of potential victims for this glaze is extensive. The other night, I managed to snag a 1/2 lb of baby octopus at the fish market.  After a quick rinse, they were dumped, whole, into the pot.  They came out intensely flavored and chewy (not as much of a problem with baby octopus, since they don't get as tough as their grownup counterparts), not to mention the whole process took about 10 minutes.  I topped them with chopped scallions and a little dash of shichimi togarashi, a Japanese chili powder that can be found in most Asian markets.

Aren't they cute?  

Other options include veggies such as carrots, potatoes, string beans, broccoli, pearl onions, lotus root, or any combination of the above.  Peeled hard boiled eggs are delicious prepared this way, as are bite size pieces of beef.  Generally speaking, use foods that can stand some cooking, since you do have to simmer them for a bit.  Or feel free to blanch the more delicate veggies and toss them in towards the end to just coat them in the glaze.  Sweetness/tang can be adjusted depending on how much sugar/ginger you prefer.

I've even used this as a base for a soy flavored salad dressing, just adding a little bit of sesame oil and then rice vinegar to taste.

Pour over greens, throw the little octopi on top...soy-tastic.

Happy New Year!

His Royal Kittyness, Sir Robin of Loxley

Whew.  You said it, Robin.

Happy New Year for all those out there celebrating Rosh Hashanah!   Holidays, for all of their fun, almost always leave me feeling more drained at their end then at their outset.  Traveling, crowds, too much food...my fault, I know, but who can blame me?  I'm only human, and therefore hard wired to react to a feast by, well, feasting.  My mother-in-law, no slouch in the kitchen, made roasted lamb, for heaven's sake.  My favorite meat, hands down.  So it's only natural that the end result would be me feeling the way Robin looks in that photo.

I guess I should be grateful that Yom Kippur is coming up.  As the husband explained, after all the holiday meals, I'll need the fast if I want to fit into my clothes again.

Shanah Tovah!

Genesis

"Househost?" you say.

Why yes, a househost. As in:

One beautiful summer day, our dear friend, the excellent and talented Mr. Lowe, enjoyed an afternoon of tea and cake at our apartment.  Our new apartment.  As in the apartment that we had recently purchased and moved our lives into a week earlier.

Puzzled, he looked around at the furniture, the books, the paintings, the plants, and the conspicuous lack of moving boxes overflowing with stuff.  Sadly, not much credit could be taken for our neat and cozy new surroundings.  After living in a 400 sq. ft. studio with your significant other for 4.5 years, plus two cats, you quickly learn to try not to accumulate too much.  Besides, the boxes overflowing with unpacked clothes were stuffed in the bedroom closet.  They wouldn't be empty for a another 3 weeks or so, but I digress...

The conversation was thirsty business. Tea was offered and accepted along with cake.  If I had been alone, chances are the cake would have been eaten standing up at the kitchen counter, attacked with a fork straight from the box (Yellow pound cake with raspberry jam and cream cheese frosting from Two Little Red Hens, for the New Yorkers out there. Can you blame me?).  But we had a guest.  The tray came out, along with the teapot, buggy teacups (the bugs were painted on the teacups, not crawling around inside them), saucers, sugar bowl, creamer and wooden teaspoons.  The cake was served on koi patterned dessert plates with miniature wooden forks.  It was a pleasing set up, and when everything was brought out to the dining table and arranged, Mr. Lowe spontaneously remarked, "Why, you're such a good house...host!"

A phrase that could have been interpreted in a million different ways by a million different people, but at that particular moment, I identified "househost" with the following:

• someone who takes pleasure in the domestic aspects of life
• someone who sees entertaining as an opportunity for a little something extra
• someone who by virtue of their age/gender/career/disposition could potentially be categorized as the sort of person who might take offense at outright displays of either of the above

A strange mix of emotions ran through me. Pride, embarrassment, pleasure, guilt.  How should I react to such a comment?

I guess I'm still trying to figure it out. Hence the blog. Cause I'm sure there's some great advice available out there on the internets.  And now it can find me.

P.S. You know it's kitty cat love when the little germ would rather spontaneously puke up a hairball on the couch than get even one inch further away from the hand that's giving him scratchies.

Action!

...and we're live ladies and gentlemen.

Let's see where this little adventure takes us.