A Bowl of Pho

This afternoon’s Mindful Meditation session ended at one p.m., so I made my way to 505 Spring Street for a bowl of Vietnamese soup at Downtown Los Angeles Pho. I was hungry, and lately I craved the filet mignon pho with extra jalapeño pepper slices. To this I added some Sriracha hot sauce and some hot chile oil. Finally, I added just a small dash of soy sauce.

With my chopsticks, I picked up a slice of jalapeño, a piece of filet mignon, and some rice noodles and shoveled it into my mouth. Oh, it was s-o-o-o-o-o good!

I was not always a chile head. Growing up in Cleveland, I could not believe the spiciness when my mother cooked lecsó, a kind of hot pepper ratatouille much beloved by Hungarians. Even my father wouldn’t touch it, and I certainly wouldn’t.

Coming to Los Angeles changed me in many ways, especially when it came to food. In Cleveland, I hated fish; in L.A., I loved sushi. In Cleveland, I preferred my food bland; in L.A., I went way past jalapeño to habanero.

Does all that hot stuff bother me? Nope. In fact, I find each chopstick portion a delight. When people I know of the bland food persuasion are surprised by my food tastes, I tell them that chile peppers are a vegetable, and what do they have against vegetables?

Currying Flavor

A Vegetarian Curry

The biggest change in my diet since the Covid lockdown has been my growing preference for cooking vegetarian curries. This has dismayed Martine, as she is a confirmed avivore, especially of chicken and turkey. Before, I have been cooking various pasta and rice dishes with ground turkey; but of late, I have tended to avoid ground meat.

Although I have always like curries, my preference has always been for vegetarian curries. That could be the influence of my old friend Mohan Gopalakrishnan, a Brahmin, but I have always thought that Indian cuisine has by far the tastiest vegetarian recipes. It has gotten to the point that I disdain bland American vegetarian dishes. (There are, however, a few Hungarian vegetarian dishes that I’ve always loved.)

Today I cooked up a potato, cauliflower, tomato, and pea curry with a diced-up Serrano chile. To jack up the hotness, I added a little super-hot Indian chile powder. To cool down the dish slightly, I served it with mango chutney and some plain yogurt.

The spices used include black mustard seeds, cumin seeds, turmeric, and garam masala (which is mostly cardamom). The great thing about Indian cuisine is that you can vary the spices and consequently the flavor quite easily. Of course, it helps to have an Indian food store nearby. I usually go to India Sweets and Spices in Culver City. They also have a very decent lunch counter which I patronize regularly.

American Glop

Does It Need Dipping Sauce Because It’s Dry and Tasteless?

I’m grateful that I was not raised on American food. My mother and great grandmother were superb cooks in the Hungarian tradition. Although as a smaller child I loved hot dogs and hamburgers, I found myself increasingly drawn to food that had real flavor.

Real food is prepared with spices. And not just catsup. I cannot understand why American hamburgers are just meat. My mother mixed ground beef with ground pork, and then added egg, bread, minced onions, garlic, and parsley. We called it fasirt or schnitzli. They were good hot or cold and made great leftovers.

Compare it with the typical American fast food hamburgers. Oh, you’ll probably need a “dipping sauce” consisting of a mixture of warmed-up fat, catsup, and sugar to make it palatable.

If your dish requires a dipping sauce, it’s because the cook did not know how to season the dish. That’s also why hamburgers are often served with some sort of thousand island dressing, because they are not otherwise moist or tasty.

And I’m not just talking about hamburgers, either. Most American food tastes unappetizing and bland to me. I suppose you’d like it only if you were raised on Cheerios until you reached the age of twenty-one. Living in Los Angeles, I would rather go to a good Asian or Latin-American restaurant rather than one of the standard fast food chains. You can get real food there, and it will have flavor.

A Nice Burn

A Sichuan Seasoning That Will Set You on Fire

My brother and I are well-known fire-eaters. Most of the meals I prepare for myself (but not Martine!) are off the charts when it comes to hotness for most of my friends.

It all started when I went on my first vacation to Mexico in 1975 and discovered El Diablito Chile Habanero. There I was in a hot country with smoke pouring out of my ears—and loving every minute of it! After discovering Marie Sharp’s Chile Habanero from Dangriga, Belize in 2019, I thought I had the perfect picante sauce.

Then my brother introduced me to Fly by Jing Sichuan Chili Crisp (illustrated above), which not only has the perfect burn but actually adds flavor. In the last few weeks, I have experimented with Spanish Rice and Spanish Barley, both seasoned with Fly by Jing. Not only was I sold, but I ordered a couple more bottles from Amazon for when my first bottle goes empty (which should be in about a week).

Interestingly, the chili crisps are made with Chinese ingredients originating in Chengdu by a Chinese-American living in Los Angeles. Her name, BTW, is Jing.