shutitdown: taking one for the anecdote

Results tagged “burritos”

Ikea romance

Going to Ikea always makes me reminisce about the days long ago when I dated a Swede. He used to take me on dates to Ikea. We'd eat at the restaurant, filling up on Swedish meatballs and lingonberry jam, and then hold hands on our way to the food shop where we'd buy herring in a tube and negerbolls.

I put up with this sort of malarkey because I had let him convince me that being an ex-pat was a life that was filled with longing: for home, for friends and most of all, for food. How hard it must be, I thought, to move so far away from home and in an entirely different country. So I agreed to eat disgusting Swedish meatballs at Ikea, and in my heart, truly felt for the poor guy. I'd go to the Swedish store in Oakland and buy him funny little Swedish candies like Plopps, and just generally try and humor his reminiscences of how perfect life in Sweden was.

Having been an ex-pat now for coming up on three years, and having tried a lot of Swedish food, I now realize what a sap he was. Moving away from Sweden and missing Swedish food is like recovering from depression and missing that feeling of emptiness.

I can't say that there's not a lot of food from California that I miss--the burritos and Korean food particularly. When I was in Dublin, I missed them badly. But once I moved to London, which is a major city (much like San Francisco) I didn't walk around like missing the food of my home country was this cross I had to bear, and one that everyone else in the world should sympathize with. (Of course that doesn't stop me from shoveling as many super burritos down my gullet as I can possible stand every time I go back home.) I've learned that these things are manageable. I will probably change my tune once I move to Asia and can't find pancetta to put in my homemade tomato sauce, but for now, I'm surviving.

By Lina on June 13, 2009 6:28 PM

Korean tacos: my one hope for true love

So the other day my mother sent me this article about Korean tacos. Not just a Korean taco, but a Korean taco truck. I love Korean food, I love tacos, and I love street food. This could possibly be my most favoritest thing in the entire world. Mainly because I hate everything else.

Unfortunately, I don't live in Los Angeles (thank you, christ), so I had to make them myself. I've been penpalling with Jennifer of the EatDrinkTalk cooking school (read: I've been harassing her via email) and with her enthusiastic encouragement, decided to give it a go. Results below:

The picture doesn't do it justice because I still haven't read my effing camera book. This was one of my favorite meals ever. I made it with spicy pork, seasoned cucumbers, kimchi, seasoned green onions and seasoned soybean sprouts. However, I think almost any combo of Korean BBQ meat and banchan would be delicious. Beef bulgogi with kimchi and radish? Savage. Galbi with spinach and kimchi? Deadly. I think you'll have to include kimchi in everything if you want to be safe.

Recipes:

Spicy Sliced Pork aka Daeji Bulgogi

  • 1 pound sliced pork sirloin
  • 1.5 tablespoons chili paste
  • 1.5 tablespoons sugar
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 (1/2 inch) piece of ginger, minced
  • 1/2 tablespoon soy sauce
  • 1/2 tablespoon sesame oil
  • black pepper
  • 1 green onion, chopped (optional)
  • 1/2 white onion, chopped (optional)
  • Korean pear (optional)

    1. Combine the sliced pork with the chili paste, sugar, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, sesame oil and onion, if using. Let marinate for appoximately 30 min. (You can also throw in some mashed Korean pear to help tenderize the meat, if you're feeling up to it.)

    2. Stir-fry the meat until thoroughly, usually around 5 to 7 minutes. Add black pepper if needed. add green onion, if using.

    Banchan: Seasoned cucumbers, kimchi, seasoned green onions and seasoned soybean sprouts. Most Korean side dishes are seasoned with garlic, salt, sesame oil, red pepper and rice vinegar. I'm not going to put recipes here because they are super easy and all over the internet and none of you are going to make this anyway. If you do want to make anything, check out my favorite Korean cooking site: Maangchi

    • By Lina on March 3, 2009 6:44 PM

    Our saviour: a Mission burrito

    I recently had a ten day trip to California. On the way to the airport, as we passed the last burrito truck that I was likely to see for the next six months, I pasted my face to the rear windshield and wept. There's just something about a two-pound (and I'm talking weight, not currency) burrito that makes me homesick in a way that nothing else can.

    I took these pictures at El Tonayense in San Francisco's notorious Mission district. Back in the day, you could get a piping hot homemade tamale and a ballon of heroin from the same woman. She only kept one stored in her vagina, but I leave you to imagine which.

    I visted my friend Liz in the Mission when I was in California. It certainly has changed. Maybe I've changed. I don't know. What I do know is that if I had walked around in the Mission with a big, expensive camera ten years ago, I wouldn't have a big, expensive camera to take pictures of burritos with anymore.

    When I see a burrito, all swaddled up in aluminium foil, lying in its basket on a bed of chips, I often think of the baby Jesus in his manger.

    So yeah, I know. Burrito joints with vegetarian options aren't "authentic." But this is San Francisco. Everyone's a veg these days, but they are missing out when it comes to burritos. My friend Duncan wrote something about trying to vegetarian and still eat burritos and I often think of it when I'm nearing the end of my burrito.

    "And the grease pocket. The best part of a burrito is when you get down to the nub, where all the pork juice has filtered it's way down into the last bit of rice and beans and tortilla. Pure chewing satisfaction. Flavor country. Let's just say, when the water from the lettuce gets down there, it's not quite the same feeling, okay?"

    When I lived in California, El Tonayense used to be one of my favorite burrito places. Then one time I found an entire piece of that wax paper that they put in the chip basket inside my burrito. I had eaten about half of the burrito when I got to the wax paper, which filled the rest of the thing out. It was pretty amazing to try and figure out how this fist-sized paper got in there. They offered me a new burrito, but who can eat more than one of those things? Since then, I'm happy to report, the only things in my burritos are the things that belong there.

    By Lina on February 26, 2009 8:44 PM
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