There’s this little Korean grocery near my place that I’d never visited. It’s actually hard to find, it’s little more than a door in a strip mall. And for that matter it’s not really a grocery. It’s more like a kitchen that specializes in banchan, the Korean side dishes. It’s called "Mom’s Taste" presumably because when you think of side dishes you think of mom. I walked in the door, and there was one wall filled with little plastic tubs of pickled whatnot. On the other wall were a couple shelves of staples like instant noodles, bags of rice, and jugs of oil. The kid behind the counter came out and talked to me about the options. I should have bought a couple tubs of pickled whatnot, instead I got patties of bulgogi.
The fried up delicious, but I had so few sides to eat with it.
I’m low on groceries, so I had to eat some old impulse purchases. I got this can of stuffed eggplant a long time ago.
Every bite glistened.
The joy of food frakking is finding that queer cultural oddity before anyone else. Finally I have done that. These "papitas caseras," or fried potatoes, are absolutely brilliant. The trick is that the potatoes aren’t fried whole or in lumps, but in flat chips or something. I’m certain they will catch on in America as soon as people get over their initial surprise at the novelty.
I’m not so sure about the hot sauce packet though.
For months and months I’ve been going drinking with people down on East Sixth Street and the Liberty Bar with the hidden motive of eating at the Tacos Selene cart. This last week the little taqueria finally had the oreja in stock. You know, pig ear.
Each little square of oreja had a layer of skin on the top and bottom that was cooked to a gooey and sticky consistency. Sandwiched in between was a thin layer of white cartilagey material. The consistency of the middle layer is impossible to describe. It had the same sort of toothsome feel you get with tripe. Something midway between the texture of a wafer cookie and a toenail clipping.
Now that I’m an adult I figured it was time I owned a charcoal grill.
Julia, my food frakking deputy, and my friend Peter Gabriel came over to do some Memorial Day grilling. We had kielbasa sausages and asparagus.
I tried toasting buttered buns on the grill because that’s what the lady on that annoying NPR food show told me to do, but they ended up charred when I put them directly on the grill.
The sausages gave me the opportunity to use some of my Mang Thomas All Purpose Sauce.
You can use that stuff for anything. And don’t go thinking that’s just a brand name, the MT supermarket had several brands of all purpose sauce. It’s tangy and sweet and fruity, everything that ketchup wants to be but isn’t.
Just to be extra American, I rounded out the meal with some cole slaw and potato salad.
Not sure why I put some papitas caseras on the side. That foreign snack undermined the patriotic integrity of the meal.