Terong Balado

With school six days a week – though it’s only a half-day on Saturdays – Sundays are the one day that we have entirely free in Yogyakarta, Indonesia.  During the week my host aunt, a chef who has her own catering service, brings homemade dishes in the afternoons that we heat up again for dinner and then, if there are leftovers, again for breakfast the next morning. Cooked foods sit in the center of the kitchen table underneath a large basket-like cover that keeps the bugs out and then at mealtimes we serve ourselves rice from the rice cooker on the counter - always the central part of the meal - and top it with the dishes on the table as we sit down to eat. We often fry tofu or tempeh, or steam vegetables and set them out on a plate to go along with the other dishes; and if there aren’t enough leftovers from the night before we might make a fried egg with vegetables for breakfast. But on Sundays my host sisters make the main dishes for the day.

At 5:30am last Sunday morning Mbak Ayu, my oldest host sister, poked her head into my bedroom to wake me up to get ready to head to the morning pasar, or traditional outdoor market, to buy ingredients for cooking that morning.  I groggily pulled myself out of bed, the promise of bubur kacang hijau, a sweet mung bean porridge that you can often find at the market, the only thing keeping me from laying my head back down on the soft pillow and falling back asleep for a few more hours.

The market is within walking distance of our house so we set out on foot, me trying to contain my yawns. I always have trouble getting up early but the mornings really are a wonderful time to be outside; while the air is still cool and fresh, before the roads become crowded with traffic and the air becomes hot and polluted. The colors, the sounds, the sweet smells of cooking foods - everything is so vibrant and beautiful in the morning. We passed a man sitting beside a heap of green coconuts as he scooped white flesh from the shells; warm aromas wafted from storefronts selling gorengan, assorted fried snacks like battered tempeh, and cassava fritters filled with palm sugar; and pedicab drivers slowly biked past on their morning routes. 

We turned down a long narrow street off of the main road we walked past fields of rice and grasses, brilliant shades of green glowing in the warm sunlight. The street was dotted with trees bearing every type of tropical fruit imaginable - massive spiky jackfruit tugging down on their flexible branches, bunches of bright pink rambutan with their soft spiky hair, and dark maroon cacao pods hanging nobly from their high branches.

Marinated Tempeh Burgers

In just a few weeks I will be leaving for Indonesia. I am unbelievably excited, and nervous too. Just a couple of days ago I found out that I have a host family in Yogyakarta (pronounced jōg-jə-kär-tə, and sometimes shortened to Jogja) making me all the more excited. I feel nostalgic, too, for something I haven't even left yet; I haven't even left and I'm already beginning to feel the weight of how much I'll miss everyone. 

With just a few more weeks in the states, it seems like I should be doing crazy things - but really, things have been pretty normal. Though I've been trying to learn some Bahasa Indonesia and I have just recently started to contemplate how one goes about packing for a year abroad, for the most part things are the same as usual.

I stumbled upon this recipe a little while ago when we were in the middle of a hot spell - the perfect time to have burgers (so maybe it wasn't the best time to be turning on the oven, but it was definitely worth it). Incidentally, these delicious vegetarian burgers combine a traditional food made in Indonesia - tempeh - with something as quintessentially American as a good ol' burger. 

Now, how cool is that?

And it couldn't be a better combination. The tempeh is delicious marinated, it's moist, and it doesn't crumble apart like many homemade veggie burgers do.

I think they are best covered in melted cheddar, with crisp boston lettuce, ripe tomato, and maybe some avocado, too, next time. But however you like your burger - with mayonnaise or mustard, ketchup or sauerkraut, peanut butter or strawberry rhubarb jam - there's no denying these tempeh burgers are good.

Pizza

I washed up on the shores of the weekend wanting nothing more than to spend some quality time with an old friend, the kitchen. After weeks without so much as a simple cookie or even a small batch of pancakes it was time to reconcile our relationship, the kitchen and I, and bake. I leafed through my notebook of recipes and then pulled a few of my favorite cookbooks off of the shelf, finally settling with a book about bread by Laurel Robertson. After my unintended hiatus I wanted to make something that would take some time. Spend an afternoon kneading dough, mixing ingredients, and walking around in a cloud of flour.

I stumbled upon a recipe for Sicilian pizza and was reminded of the pizza we ate in Italy. Thick square slices with chewy dough; bright, flavorful sauce; and delicious cheeses. In Italy a pizzeria or a street cart selling slices was never more than twenty steps away, so the thick slices soon became a familiar afternoon snack.

Le Croque-Madame

We recently began a unit on restaurant conversation in French class. As if the tantalizing promise of summer wasn't enough of a distraction, I now find myself daydreaming about eating warm croissants and breaking off pieces of fresh baguettes when I should be conjugating prendre in the past tense. One worksheet we were given for this unit had step by step illustrations of a recipe for a croque-monsieur.

The croque-monsieur, a french classic, is simply a grilled ham and cheese sandwich topped with melted cheese. On the handout each step was accompanied by a simple cartoon, beginning with two thick slices of bread, spreading on soft butter, topping with grated cheese, and finishing with the toasted sandwich - melted cheese falling slowly down the sides - being removed from the oven. Both my interest in french food and my hunger (French being my last class of the day) elevated this simple sandwich to gourmet status in my mind.

Upon further research I discovered the croque-madame - the monsieur's wife I suppose - an intriguing variation topped with an egg, sunny side up, and  cheesy, white sauce.

It ended up being that cheesy sauce mornay that gave me the most trouble. While cooking the sauce I got caught up in the thickening process, watching  as it became thicker and thicker, and lost sight of the consistency I wanted. I ended up letting it cook for too long leaving me with a sauce that was almost too thick to pour. Luckily there was some heavy cream left, so after a slight panic I was able to thin the sauce.

The finished sandwich was flavorful, incredibly rich, and of the must-be-eaten-with-a-knife-and-fork variety. It was very indulgent... and very French.

Gnocchi with Pesto

I've been to Paris. I've cradled a warm crêpe in my hands walking happily down cobblestone streets, I've wandered through Monet's garden, visited the Louvre, and explored the French flea markets. It's been six years since, and now it seems more like a wonderful dream than an experience.

In Paris, we stayed in a small, quaint hotel in the heart of the city. It had just a few rooms and an antique elevator that lead up to the second floor. The hotel was right above a café, and in the morning as the sun seeped through the window, we woke to the sweet smell of warm croissants and baking breads. If we got up first, my dad and I would ride down the creaky elevator following the entrancing smell of pastries. I would get a pain au chocolat and a bowl of hot chocolate while my dad got his morning coffee and a newspaper. We sat sipping our coffee and hot chocolate, soaking up the scene, and listening to conversation as we waited for my mom and sister to join us.

We spent the days walking along the cobblestone streets, and along the Seine, exploring the city, and visiting the beautiful sites of France. For lunch we stopped at bistros or restaurants where I would always get "une limonade, merci", and we dined over delicious french dishes.

We visited so many wonderful places in France; the Eiffel Tower, the châteaux, Notre Dame, the house of Leonardo da Vinci, and Monet's beautiful garden.

Equally incredible, was the food. There are so many restaurants, cafés, bakeries, cheese stores, wine shops, and so much fantastic food. Soup, fish, and pastas were always delicious at the restaurants, but a fresh baguette and cheese from the grocery store made just as perfect a dinner. 

I had my first creamy bite of éclair in France, at a pâtisserie down the block from our hotel. And I tried gelato for the first time walking back from dinner one night, when we passed a small gelateria with rows of rich gelato gleaming through the glass. Their chocolate flavor was to die for...