Author Archives: Renate Valencia

Little Crab Casseroles

Individual crab casseroles in little fiestaware ramekins

Here’s an easy recipe for decadent little creamy crab casseroles I developed based on a couple 1950’s dip recipes.

They work very well if you are having people over and want to serve a comforting, hot appetizer.

Do me a favor, though:  buy decent ingredients.  Good mayo, like Best Foods/Hellmann’s, Raley’s or the new Costco version, and real cream cheese without gums, fillers and all the rest of the garbage in popular brands.  Gina Marie is good, and is available at some Costco locations in addition to upscale and natural markets.

Creamy Crab Casseroles
   Makes 8

8 ounces cream cheese
1 cup sour cream
1 cup mayonnaise
1 cup grated Asiago cheese
A few drops of chili oil and a couple dashes of white pepper OR a little regular old pepper
16 oz crab meat
1 tablespoon butter
ramekins (about 3/4 cup capacity)

1).  Place the cream cheese in a mixing bowl and mix with a stiff spatula or spoon until softened.
2).  Mix in sour cream, mayo, cheese and chili oil/white pepper or black pepper.
3).  Carefully fold in crab meat.
4).  Lightly butter the ramekins.
5).  Distribute crab mixture evenly among ramekins and smooth out tops.
6).  Bake at 325 deg F. until a bit bubbly – about 20 minutes.
7).  Broil for a minute or two to brown tops, but carefully so as not to burn!
8).  Serve with good crackers or some crusty bread.

Leftovers: Roast ‘taters with Cheese & Short Rib Gravy

Roast potatoes and butternut squash with aged cheddar and short rib gravy

Roast potatoes and butternut squash with aged cheddar and short rib gravy

Anyone who knows me or reads my blog knows I’m big into leftovers.

If I make something or go out to eat I don’t care what’s left, how much or how little, I put it in a container and eat it the next day or incorporate it into another meal.  We can’t afford to waste food, particularly animal products, because animals have died for what we are eating!

It always amazes me when people throw leftovers away, and I’m often surprised by the kinds of people I see do this:  greenies, nouveau hippies – though I guess they’re really pseudo-hippies, animal rights activists.  Maybe it’s because the people in my circle who fall into those enlightened groups have more money than my poor friends (for example, other bloggers and artists) who can’t afford to throw away a scrap.

When I see this I’m reminded of the line from the Staple Singers’ song, Respect Yourself:

“Keep talkin’ ’bout the president, won’t stop air pollution
Put your hand o’er your mouth when you cough, that’ll help the solution”

Saving the world starts at home.

One thing to have hanging around is a wide variety of containers – especially little ones.  I buy these at Ichiban Kan, or other Asian housewares shops.  They tend to carry food grade plastic containers in sizes from an ounce to a gallon.

If you have lots of them in the half-cup or so size, you can freeze little containers of sauce from whatever you’re making:  braises, like short ribs or shanks, and tomato-based saucy dishes, like chicken cacciatore.  You’ll be well-fixed to bust out a little sauce to serve with those fries you brought home, or leftover potato pancakes from the night before.

One little tip is to make lots of extra roast potatoes when you’re having them as a side to serve as a future dish with salad, as follows:

Roast your potatoes like so, perhaps.  Feel free to add some butternut squash, which roasts up nice and sweet.  Eat dinner and then save the leftovers.

Next day toss them with crumbles of a good, aged cheddar and bake, covered, or microwave, until all is hot and cheese is melty.

When you take the ‘taters out of the oven, microwave some of your frozen short rib or other gravy until it’s very hot, and pour it over the potatoes and cheese.

Serve ASAP.  You will not be sorry!

An Open Letter to Costco

A whole smoked whitefish from acme smoked fish corp in brooklyn

5 December 2010

Costco Wholesale Corporation
Attn:  Customer Service
P. O. Box 34331
Seattle, WA 98124

Re: Lack of  Acme Fish Corporation’s smoked whitefish products at your Richmond, California, store

Dear Costco:

It’s me, your biggest fan.

I’m wondering why you pulled the rug out from under my supply of smoked whitefish. Clearly you don’t understand what kind of hardship this presents.

I’ve lost hope in terms of the smoked whitefish salad, which you had for some eighteen glorious months several years ago. Those two-pound tubs for $7.99 made me scoff at local bagel stores hawking the exact same stuff for upwards of $15 a pound. The laugh was on me, though, Costco, when I had to go crawling back to them.

Oh, sure, you sometimes have the whole smoked whitefish, but, like a parochial schoolgirl in a short plaid skirt, you’re a tease.

Costco, you know I love you. I always talk you up to my friends, even when you hurt me. I love you even though I understand you conduct random drug tests on your employees, which I believe to be a violation of Fourth and Fourteenth Amendment rights—but I’m willing to look past that and dip a toe into the waters of hypocrisy because you carry such excellent cheeses. Your inexpensive Prosciutto di Parma, #10 cans of Rokeach gefilte fish, environmentally-friendly cleaning products and Very Berry Sundae have me all wrapped up.

Why can’t you justify my love with a consistent supply of whole smoked whitefish, at least, if you can’t manage to carry the salad?

Some of us on this side of the bay don’t or can’t drive on freeways or bridges and cannot easily get to the San Francisco Costco. Our friends are tired of being asked to schlep these products to us.

Give an ex-New Yorker with a Jewish husband and German mother a break. Exes from South Florida, La La Land, Northern Europe and other appetizing-rich locations now living in the Oakland-to-Richmond corridor of the East Bay would appreciate it, too.

Costco, I believe you have spies  people in cyberspace keeping track of what is said about you and your products. I think they might even comment now and again to diffuse negative criticism. I can’t prove it, but the analytics for my website, as well as a few suspicious comments, point in that direction.

I know you didn’t like it when I said the dressings provided with some of your in-store prepared wraps are too viscous because you use gums. I don’t think you liked that at all.

I’m hoping the gentle criticism I offer now and then won’t have a negative effect on my smoked whitefish request.

To remind you, these products are marketed under the Blue Hill Bay label and come from Acme Smoked Fish Corporation in Brooklyn. I also provided a photo of a whole smoked whitefish at the top of this post for your convenience.

I won’t be sending this letter through the mail because you’ll be aware of it in very little time anyway.

With best wishes for a wonderful holiday,

The Akitachow household

PS:  I’m assuming you’ll be handing out free cookbooks and samples of your caramel apples and peppermint bark throughout December, but could you possibly have someone there cutting up a whole prosciutto on the afternoon of 9 December?

Bánh mì in the ‘hood

 

Cross-section of Vietnamese sandwich (banh mi) from Ba Le in El Cerrito, CA

Cross-section of Vietnamese sandwich (banh mi) from Ba Le in El Cerrito, CA

I crave bánh mì on a regular basis, so I’m happy that my Honda Civic and I need to travel only a few blocks from my house on the El Cerrito/Albany border for satisfaction.

Bánh mì are Vietnamese sandwiches, a hybrid of pickled veggies and French-inspired cold cuts or other meat on long, crispy, baguette-type rolls made of both wheat and rice flour.  There are bánh mì out there with meatballs, barbecued pork, pork roll, pork belly, tofu – you name it.

Atop the meat are sliced chili peppers, thinly sliced or shredded sweet and sour pickled carrots and daikon, cucumber, and a handful of cilantro.  The dressing varies, but is often a bit sweet-sour.

In truly authentic versions, the roll is smeared with a little pâté, particularly the classic “combo” sandwich, which includes chicken or pork roll and head cheese.  Yes, head cheese.  Don’t be afraid of it.  Anyone who eats Jell-O has no business snubbing head cheese.

Bánh mì are addictive because of the contrast in textures and the interplay of the crisp roll, salty and savory meat filling, and brightness of the pickled vegetables.  Like a good slice of pizza, a good Vietnamese sandwich must meld into something greater than the sum of its parts.

We’re not talking Subway here.  When you bite into a bánh mì, and you know your Vietnamese cuisine, the vegetables will ring familiar.  Think “lettuce wrap” without the lettuce.

Obviously, this is fusion food born of French colonialism.  I know this is a downer, which is why smart, snappy and light food publications often sidestep history altogether.  Mentioning oppression certainly puts a damper on selling a trendy lifestyle.

Combo (#2) Vietnamese sandwich (banh mi) from Ba Le in El Cerrito, CA

Combo (#2) Vietnamese sandwich (banh mi) from Ba Le in El Cerrito, CA

These unique sandwiches are inexpensive, great for a substantial snack or light meal, and feed that “I have no idea what I want to eat” yen.

When I want authentic bánh mì, I go to Ba Le, a tiny take-out place with one lonely table in a God-forsaken strip mall on San Pablo Avenue in El Cerrito.

Ba Le is hardcore.  While it’s a polite place, you quickly order by number and step aside for the next person in line.  If you want to screw around, go to the next place I talk about.  If you never had bánh mì, then just order a #2 ($2.50), which is a combo.  They use pâté here.  Like I said, hardcore.

The rolls at Ba Le are superior.  Bánh mì refers to both the roll and the sandwich, by the way.  If the baguette roll isn’t right, the sandwich won’t work.

There are 10 sandwiches on the board, with an average price of about $2.50.  Beside the #2 combo, I like the #6 ($2.50), which is bacon (pork belly), and the #5 ($2.25), meatball.  I certainly wouldn’t kick the #1 ($2.25), ham and head cheese, out of bed.

My husband and son go for the #8 ($2.50), grilled pork.

The veggies are crisp and fresh, and the meat is always high-quality.  They have a vegetarian option, too, but I admit to never having tried it.

One rainy day I noticed a sign for bo kho ($6), so I 86ed my sandwich order and went with that, which any sane person would have done.

Bo kho is a savory beef soup with a nicely spiced, reddish broth that’s eaten with a baguette or noodles.  There are hearty pieces of potato and carrot, and it comes with the full complement of fresh herbs and chilis on the side.  Great for dipping sandwiches into, by the by.

If you visit and they don’t have the bo kho and you want something like it, get the spicy beef noodle soup ($6), also good.

Both soups will have some beef tendon.

Bo kho (beef stew soup) from Ba Le in El Cerrito, CA

Bo kho (beef stew soup) from Ba Le in El Cerrito, CA

I have to give them kudos for packing orders well – especially the soups.

Sundays, when Ba Le is closed, we go with our second option.

Hong Kong Snack House in the Pacific East Mall in El Cerrito/Richmond produces respectable bánh mì from $2.95 to $3.95 apiece.  They’re bigger than Ba Le’s, but there’s no pâté.  The rolls are crusty and light, and they offer six options.

Combo Vietnamese sandwich (banh mi) from Hong Kong Snack House

Combo Vietnamese sandwich (banh mi) from Hong Kong Snack House

Their barbecued meat is a little less sweet than at Ba Le, but there’s always some sweetness to this option.

Order the combo, if in doubt, which has ham, pork ear (which is in head cheese form) and pork roll ($3.95).  The proprietors are super nice, so you can chat with them about sandwich contents beforehand to get exactly what you want.

Hong Kong Snack House is take-out only, and in a small stall.  There’s a huge menu, though, and you’ll find street food, like curry fish balls on a skewer ($1.75).

I like visiting because they have many things not easily found.

Waffles at Hong Kong Snack House

Waffles at Hong Kong Snack House

Have a coconut sesame waffle ($1.95).  Hot, crispy and a little sticky-soft inside, it’s a dessert that’s not too sweet, and you should eat it on the fly because it won’t travel well.  I also like the Hong Kong-style egg puffs, starting at $3.50.  These are also waffle-like entities, and made to order.

Go ahead and wash your bánh mì down with fresh sugar cane juice ($4).

Some pre-packed snacks at Hong Kong Snack House for Chinese New Year

Some pre-packed snacks at Hong Kong Snack House for Chinese New Year

It looks like I might have a third option for these sammies, because I noticed a new strip mall pho joint the other day with a cardboard “bánh mì” sign in the window.  I’ll be checking Heng Heng Pho (10386 San Pablo – near Stockton, El Cerrito) out soon and will report back.

One final little generic tip about Vietnamese sandwiches:  try to get them early in the day for the freshest rolls.

Ba Le
10174 San Pablo Ave (near Central)
El Cerrito
(510) 528-8882
Open daily except Sunday, 8 a.m. – 6:00 p.m.

Hong Kong Snack House
Pacific East Mall
3288 Pierce St (near Central)
Richmond
(510) 508-7354
Open daily except Wednesday, 8 a.m. – 6:00 p.m.

Old Old Bay

Two containers of old bay spice mix - one old and one new - side by side

About time to replace my old Old Bay, don’t you think?

I knew I needed to replace my Old Bay Seasoning, but I had no idea how old my existing box was!

We all recall certain things from our childhood kitchens that were like fixtures – always there in the same form.  Usually those things hung around from recipes tried once and bombed.  In my parents’ home, this was half a box of kasha and a jar of bouillon cubes that had solidified into a brown and red mass.  I must have moved these things a million times between 1967 and 1977, and it never dawned on me to throw them out.  I figured they were there for a reason.

My Mom’s kasha was there because she made it once and we hated it.  I know why without even asking.  She did not follow the instructions on the box (you know, the egg and all that) and simply boiled it like rice.

The bouillon cubes were there because, well, bouillon cubes suck.

The scary thing is that I was still using my historic artifact in shrimp boils.  Old Old Bay won’t harm you, but it loses potency and develops off flavors over time, so I really should have retired it.

I did not have my Old Bay for 20 years, though, which is the tale the two boxes seem to tell.

I bought the original box at Key Food in Astoria, Queens, in 2000.  I know that exactly, because I wanted to make my mother’s partner, Nick, crab cakes, and had a hell of a time finding it.  I needed dry mustard, too, and that was a bitch.  Hard to believe, because Astoria was already a major food neighborhood.  I made roasted salmon with rosemary as part of the same meal, and could only get fresh rosemary from one of the large greengrocers on 30th Avenue by raiding their restaurant inventory!

Old Bay Seasoning was developed in 1939, which means the “over 50 years” mark would have been used, loosely, between 1989 and 1999.  I would like to think that Key Food would not leave a product on its shelves for 11 years.  The corner liquor store that also sells cans of chili and tuna, yes.  But not a chain supermarket.  I hope.

When I came home to Cali after that visit, I left the Old Bay in Queens, figuring my Mom would produce some crab cakes for Nick.  The report back from Nick was that some lame-ass crab cakes showed up once, and that was it.  The same problem as with the kasha:  not following instructions and cutting corners.  So, when I was there in 2001, I brought the Old Bay back home to California.

I now have the old box in the garage as a memento of that joyful holiday in Astoria with Nick, who passed away in 2002, along with that ancient jar of bouillon cubes I found in my father’s kitchen after he passed away in 2006.