The World if Full of Nuts

Here's one more scholarship essay. The theme was nuts :)

I was never quite sure why nuts are often associated with the state of being foolish. Why is it that we might ask “Are you nuts?” when a person does something unreasonable? Nuts are glorious, healthy, delicious, and versatile, and as such should be celebrated.

Thinking back to my childhood, I have several individual memories of nuts that stand out. In winter months, my family would go cross-country skiing in Russia. As nourishment, my father would pack little bags of roasted nuts that he would share with us to help during the last leg of the race. Sometimes still warm, the nuts were just enough to give us an extra burst of energy.

As a special birthday treat, my mother baked walnut cookies. Shaped as a walnut, the crumbly shortbread dough had a filling of condensed milk mixed with chopped walnuts. I still remember the pure joy of eating those cookies.

My first experience with peanuts was on the flight from Moscow, Russia to New York, when my family moved to the United States in 1993. On the plane, as we were fighting jet leg and fatigue, the stewardess passed around individual bags of honey-roasted peanuts. The novelty of the flavored peanuts and the packaging impressed even the adults in the family.

I hope I would never have to choose my favorite nut. I love chocolate-covered macadamia nuts from Hawaii, roasted chopped walnuts in chocolate chip cookies, and spicy almonds. I find it almost therapeutic and joyful to crack hazelnuts and Brazilian nuts. So perhaps if I am ever asked “Are you nuts?” I would take the question as a compliment.

Chicken Dinner Disaster

Surprise, but I decided to apply for a few scholarships - I've applied in the past without much success, but thought I'd give it a few more tries.

The scholarship asked to write a short essay about a poultry experience. I thought of this story right away - some of it is slightly embellished :)

***

When I was a sophomore in high school, my twin sister and I decided to have our best friend and her boyfriend over for dinner. The two of us have been cooking for quite a while, first as sous chefs in our mom’s kitchen and then as lead cooks for family holiday and birthday celebrations. It was spring, and we wanted to serve a light meal of roasted chicken with potatoes and a green salad. The dinner should have been a breeze; instead it turned into a long-standing joke amongst the four of us.

What could be so funny about a roasted chicken? After all, my sister and I followed all the necessary steps – we rinsed the chicken under cold water, slightly wincing from the contact with the raw, slimy flesh; we patted the chicken dry with paper towels and seasoned the bird with salt and pepper. For more flavor, we stuffed the bird cavity with halved lemons, garlic cloves, and chopped onions, which would deliver aroma and necessary moisture during the roasting process.

The kitchen smelled divine and wholesome as the aromas of garlic and lemon melted into the white meat. Every time we opened the oven to baste the chicken, the smell tantalized us and made our stomachs sing. Out of the oven, the chicken came out a classic golden-brown color, glistening from the regular basting. We were ready to eat. With a knife and a fork, we assigned the honor of carving the chicken to our friend’s boyfriend. And that’s when it happened. As the knife slid through the chicken, our faces fell from horror – the chicken was still raw inside, and thin, but unmistakable streams of pink juice formed a puddle on the plate.

Since then, I always use a thermometer to determine the internal temperature of the chicken whether I roast a whole bird, or bake a few chicken breasts. I am now a student at the Culinary Institute of America and have cooked plenty of successful meals for my friend and her boyfriend, but the memories of that bloody chicken dinner resurface every time we get together.

NEW Blog

I decided to start a new blog http://CIAgrad4hire.blogspot.com to document my job search.

My graduation from the Culinary Institute of America www.ciachef.edu is scheduled for October 2008 and it's time to return to the job world and start making some money to repair the dent in my banking account.

I plan to use the new blog to document my job progress. If anyone has helpful job search suggestions, tips, advice, please let me know.

See, Swirl, Smell, Sip, Swirl, Spit

The five "S's" of the Wine Class. Alas, the wine class is over.
The countless hours of studying, memorizing, highlighting, rewriting, making flash cards.
French, Italian, English pronunciations.
Wine laws, labels, grape varieties.

I haven't worked that hard on a single class at the CIA. And all along, we poured wine - still, sparkling, white, rose, and red. Made from a single grape variety, and from blends. Aged in steel and oak, filtered and murky, and completely translucent. With high tannin and acidity, mellow and jammy, crisp and refreshing.

We looked at the color of the wine against the white background, tilting the glass towards us at a 45-degree angle. We swirled the glass at the base, aerating the wine. We smelled deeply, with our noses deep in the bowl of the glass. Fig? Fruit? Stone? Earthiness?

Next we sipped and swirled or swooshed the wine in our mouths. Notice how the wine affects parts of the mouth differently. Do the tannins numb your gums or the roof of the mouth? (The indication of whether the tannins came from the grape or the oak barrel). How long does the finish last? (The impression the wine leaves).

Do now swallow! Sad but true, each tasting of the wine was finished by spitting the magic liquid into a spitting cup. Rinsing our palettes clean with water, and moving onto the next wine.

I've learned a lot. I hope most of the information will stick around, planted deeply in my brain.

RFF - kiwis

Once again, this Random Food Fact is brought to you courtesy of my wine professor Steven Kolpan.

We were discussing the wines on New Zealand - the land of kiwis. One would think New Zealand would grow a lot of kiwis (I do know that the name actually stems from the bird, not the fruit).

Turns out, that the number one producer of kiwis is Italy.

Dancing on Two with a Touch of Sugar

It was a Tuesday night and I was salsa dancing - life doesn't get any better. Who would've known that there is a local coffee place in Poughkeepsie - Muddy Cup - that has salsa dancing every other Tuesday. Wood floors, plenty of space, it's the stuff the dreams are made of.

Now, the whole salsa world dances on ONE, and that's how I learned to dance. New York, however must be quite special, b/c most everyone here dances on TWO - they start moving on a different beat, and the dance seems to be off balance in a way, more "steppy" than fluid.

What's the saying? "When in Rome, do as the Romans do?" I thought being in New York would be the perfect opportunity to try dancing on two, and last night I did - once with the instructor, and once with this really smooth dancer - it was fun, I think I got a hang of it.

Now, a touch of sugar. One guy asked me to dance, started speaking Spanish right away and was rather confused that I didn't speak Spanish. He was Colombian, I told him I was Russian. He didn't believe me. He looked me up and down, danced a bit more, and then

He said: "Are you sure you are Russian?"
me: "Yes, I am."
him: "I don't believe it, you must have some sugar in you"

Too Early for Summer

One of my favorite things to eat in the summer is a fresh salad. I call it a "refrigerator in a bowl." The salad is usually full of fresh vegetables with a mix-in of cold grilled meats, cheese, and herbs. Lightly dressed - usually it takes nothing more than a squeeze of lime juice and drizzle of good olive oil - the salad is a perfect lunch on a warm summer day.

It all started with an ear of corn. I saw fresh corn in the store and immediately wanted to make a salad. Fresh corn off the cob, tomatoes, red onion, green scallions, a bit of jalapeno for the heat. I added white tuna and some feta. The dressing is a simple combination of balsamic vinegar, lime juice, coriander, lemon-infused olive oil, salt and pepper. It looks pretty, it should've tasted better.

The summer is not here yet. The corn, rather than tasting sweet and juicy, was still a bit floury and starchy and tomatoes could've definitely used a bit more ripening on the vine.

PS - I added crushed blue corn tortilla chips - it's a double corn salad.

Breakfast Detox - Yogurt Trifle

I've never been a big fan of yogurt, but this yogurt trifle works out quite nicely. For the base, I used a plain, low-fat yogurt, drained in paper towels over night.
Assembly layers:
cherries, pitted, halved
yogurt
orange supremes
yogurt
cherries, pitted, halved
cheerios

That's all. The cherries and orange supremes give off a bit of the juice that collects on the bottom of the glass - you could mix it in, to distribute some of the sweetness. A bit of honey, drizzled over the top could be nice as well, but I don't like honey, and I enjoyed the slight acidity of the yogurt as is.

MMM - Muddled Mango Mojito

It's funny when a fresh bunch of mint becomes an inspiration, or perhaps a reason for a batch of mojitos. If I was pressed to pick only one drink, the choice would be hands down a mojito. The refreshing, rum-based drink that I discovered in Texas has been a favorite of mine ever since.

The usual suspects of mojito are rum, mint, lime juice, simple syrup/cane sugar, and club soda.

For the Muddled (aka muddy-looking) Mango Mojito, I muddled together chunks of mango with sprigs of mint and freshly squeezed lime juice. The muddling releases the natural oils from the mint and the juice from the chunks of mango. For a cleaner look, one can strain this "mess", but I chose to leave it in the glass.

Next, pour rum and top with ice. I use a shortcut when making mojitos, and my secret weapon is Squirt (diet) - a lemon/lime soda. Squirt provides the sweetness, extra citrus flavor and carbonation all in one pour, and will save you the time it would take to make simple syrup.

You are almost there. Give the drink a swirl with a fresh sprig of mint and enjoy. I promise they taste considerably better than they look.