Thickened with peanuts like some Veracruz sauces, and made with the classic Mexican technique of blending and then frying the sauce ingredients, this mild chili makes for an earthy modern-day meal. Heat a large saucepan over medium heat, add olive oil. Chop the chicken into bite-size pieces and add to the saucepan. Brown the chicken till done, about 10-12 minutes. Add all canned ingredients, then all the spices. Stir well. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with sour cream, cheese, chives or anything you would put on chili.

use less chili pepper if you prefer milder heat levels. Coconut cream is available in Asian markets and some supermarkets; if you can’t find it, here’s the perfect substitute: Open a can of coconut milk without shaking it first, and use the thick cream at the top plus enough of the milk to make one cup. It’s time for a recipe. Lately, between playing free rice and writing my novel (I’m actually using my outline and writing five pages a day), I’ve been been reading recipes and trying to come up with the perfect white chicken chili.

I’m ready to share this one, although if you make it, you should feel free to make alterations to it. Every time I make it, I love it more than I did the last time, and I suspect that’s because I never make it the same way twice. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, brown the onions until translucent and then add the chicken, stirring occasionally until all the pieces are evenly brown. Set aside. In a Dutch oven, over medium heat, bring the chicken broth and green chile peppers to a boil. Stir in the cans of cannellini beans, corn, garlic, cumin, crushed red pepper, smoked paprika, and chili powder. Stir in the chicken and onion mixture.

Let cook for a long time, at least a half hour, and then add the cream of chicken soup. I usually put the sour cream in it after it’s cooked, although if it seems to need thickening, I add more. I apologize for the can of cream of chicken soup. I usually hate recipes that call for canned soup, but once I made this recipe and left it out, and…well, it didn’t taste as good. I’m sorry to say this, but it’s true. I suppose a more ambitious person could create their own cream of chicken stuff that would be just as good, but this recipe has the advantage of being quick, easy, and tastes wonderful on a cold evening. And it’s even better the next night! And by the third night, it’s the best thing you ever put in your mouth! Ready you are Chili Chicken with Basil and Coconut Please visit in the site www.indomunch.com for extra details.

polish brides

 

Eggplant Garlic Sauce Recipes selected by the collective taste buds of the masses from Group Recipes. This popular Szechuan dish is made with Chinese eggplant, which is thinner and longer than the short and thicker eggplant that is commonly available in supermarkets. Both Chinese eggplant and chili garlic sauce are available at Asian markets. This spicy side brings a large pot of boiling water to a boil. While waiting for the water to boil, prepare the eggplant: cut the ends off the eggplant. Cut the eggplant crosswise in half. Cut each half lengthwise into quarters.

 

Chili garlic sauce is a common ingredient in Chinese markets. Drain the eggplant on paper towels. Finely mince the garlic and ginger. Finely chop the green onion. In a small bowl, combine the sauce ingredients (the dark and light soy sauce, vinegar, rice wine or dry sherry, sugar and chicken broth) and set aside. Alternate cooking method: Instead of boiling the eggplant, you can stir-fry it before combining with the pork and other ingredients. Heat the wok and add 3 tablespoons oil.

 

Vegetable Chinese eggplant is more slender than a regular eggplant, and it is said to be less bitter. In another small bowl, use your fingers to mix the black pepper and cornstarch into the ground pork. Heat the wok and add 1 tablespoon oil in the wok on medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add the garlic, ginger and green onion. Stir-fry for 10 seconds, then add the ground pork. Stir in the chili garlic sauce. Stir-fry until the pork turns white and is nearly cooked (about 1 minute), using a spatula to break the pork into small pieces.

 

Fresh Vegetable Egg plant chili sauce is a big favorite in many areas of the NewYork city. Add the eggplant and stir for a minute to mix everything together. Give the sauce a quick re-stir and swirl it into the pan, stirring. Turn down the heat to low-medium (about 4 on the dial), cover and simmer for about 10 minutes, until the eggplant is tender. Give the cornstarch and water mixture a quick restir and add it in the middle of the pan, stirring quickly to thicken. Mix the sauce with the other ingredients and serve hot. Eggplant is delicious hot or cold and can be enjoyed marinated, stuffed, roasted, grilled, fried, in a casserole, in stews, or on brochettes. Please purchase online http://www.indomunch.com in NewYork city.

Colombian Girls

usur Lee’s Magical Mystery Tour

Wrinkled parachutes cast a rosy glow on circle booths at Shang. Photo: Steven Richter

It says a lot about the souped-up speed of gentrification in New York and even more about Susur Lee that he was willing to close his rocking hit restaurant Susur in Toronto for Shang, a hotel dining room above Orchard Street. It must have seemed quite a lure at the moment of commitment: The Thompson LES hotel with a world class restaurant in Manhattan’s hottest new zip code. Now, with escalating financial wipeouts and even crazed nocturnal nomads pinching dollars, there’s more riding on Lee’s back than just his ponytail.

Every country has its own Chinese food flourish: Chef Lee honors that fusion. Photo: Steven Richter

Yes, he looks like a movie star and talks like a poet, flashing briefly through the dining room with its big round booths and giant crushed fabric parachutes casting a rosy glow. Lee clearly knows it’s his to lose. From the look of the Saturday night crush in the dining room – the preferred age group, vogueish but not slavishly so, masters-of-the-universe-in-waiting, still dancing on the edge – Lee’s already got an audience that could build a buzz. Two longtime veterans of hip, one from Nobu, one from Matsuri at the entrance obviously have the required Rolodex. Tonight’s early responders are not just peripatetic first-nighters but also Saturday daters and even locals, a good-looking stew skewing young that might build the vital word of mouth if they like the food as much as we do.

What is it like? “What are the Beatles like?” you might have asked before hearing the Liverpudlian four. Like no one, would have been the answer. Susur Lee’s magical tour has taken him from Hong Kong, to Toronto, to Singapore with its triangle of influences – Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia – back to Toronto and now he hopes to woo New York with these lyrical inventions. His food is unique, unlike anything I have tasted here, often thrilling, endlessly inventive, whimsical and traditional in the same dish, daring and delicious. His passion for design almost never overwhelms his mastery of texture and layered flavors. He counts on a trusted second from his days in Singapore as he drives the kitchen to his astonishing tune, is his own pastry chef (and also fields room service). Be warned. Come with friends you like. In this first ten days, the kitchen can be slow.

Caramelized wild sablefish with mustard green relish and salmon roe. Photo: Steven Richter

You don’t have to know that the chef wants to honor the Chinese Diaspora. “Wherever Chinese food goes, it changes with each country. I want to honor that tradition.” Call it fusion, I suppose, but look for more at Shang. From time to time, a notion seems totally Chinese.  Crispy taro puffs – four of them lined up without embellishment on a plate – are a dim sum you might encounter in Chinatown, except for that velvety surprise of curried egg salad inside. (Taro is a special weakness of mine that not everyone shares.) A big tangle of chickpea sweet onion fritters on puddles of ginger-mango chutney and minted yogurt – orange on one side, green on the other – links to India and possibly Japanese tempura. Splendid lobster croquettes filled with salty duck egg, lemon balm, shallot and the tang of chili-lime juice is a generation removed from China, reminiscing.

Nineteen ingredients and toasted hazelnuts give Singapore slaw its crunch. Photo: Steven Richter

Lee’s signature Singapore slaw is the perfect opener (one order is more than enough for four, no matter what your

Celestial seafood tofu. Photo: Steve Richter

server says). Toasted hazelnuts and a puckery taste of sour plum dressing add to the crunch and flavor of 19 ingredients. Sashimi of madai with pickled daikon, celery sprouts and lemon purée, plus caramelized wild sablefish, then lobster-shrimp croquettes with Malay black pepper sauce have us raving on our first visit. Dishes arrive two or three at a time with a clean round of rectangular plates for tasting, white with a tiny red rabbit on the rim – the chef’s astrological sign. I’m a fool for turnip cake, including this one, rife with eggplant, Cantonese-preserved black bean and shiitakes. With so many exotic notions, it would be easy to overlook steamed potato dumplings. They sound so ordinary. Don’t be fooled. Carved away with a triangle of their almost-veil-thin crust attached, the dumpling is marvelous and full of surprises. Crisp-skinned young garlic chicken with sweet-and-sour onion marmalade is remarkably juicy.

The young garlic chicken is crackly-skinned, moist within. Photo: Steven Richter

Less thrilling is the Beijing cucumber salad, a too thick-skinned oxtail soup dumpling in chicken-coriander broth, and coin-like slices of octopus with tomatillo and tomatoes. Cardamom-scented carrot and chili-mint chutneys plus glazed bananas can’t save bland Mongolian lamb chops. But the triumphs blur the flubs. And even though we’re all groaning from the excess, our host, a legendary gourmand, can’t stop ordering. I am still able to appreciate the saving grace of orange and lemongrass granité on lemon curd with passion fruit gelée and bitter orange sorbet. I didn’t really need the lemon tart with lemon parfait and raspberry coulis in tea sauce or the coconut crème caramel with Chantilly and black rice pudding at the bottom, but I tasted – loved them both – and survived.

The chef’s dessert range:  granité, warm tong yuan, and lemon tart. Photo: Steven Richter

I can’t wait to share this revelation with Chinese friends and taste more dishes even though it costs $30 one way and takes forever to creep and lurch through traffic from the Upper West Side. It’s my second visit this week. We must repeat the slaw, the potato dumplings, the taro puffs and my favorite dish of all – steamed tofu custard with crab, shrimp, lobster, baby mussels and air-dried scallops in Tanjin bouillon, a superior stock of duck, pork and ham – sheer umami. The black hairy stuff is desert moss (not “dessert” as typoed), a green that grows outside Beijing. Thin slices of pork loin wrapped around green beans with mustard and almonds should provide safe haven for tofuphobes and finicky eaters but I won’t waste my calories again. I love squab and foie gras in wrappers imitating Peking duck but the lotus crepes are leathery by the time they reach our table. Spicy slow braised beef cheek, fatty and luscious, is perfect. Served with soft brown rice and olive preserved vegetables, one portion is enough for four to taste, especially, if like me, you’ll eat too much anyway. And with so many options $12 or less, and everything else (except Kobe beef) $25 or considerly cheaper, you can spend a little or a lot. Include a $3 order of mantou whole-wheat Chinese bread to sop up sauces, and you probably won’t want to stop for a burger on your way home.

187 Orchard Street. 212 260 7900. Closed Sunday. To avoid a steep flight of steps at the Orchard Street entrance, enter through Hotel Thompson LES at 190 Allen Street. Take the elevator to 2.

Copyright Gael Greene 2008 www.insatiable-critic.com

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