Food blogger raids the fridge

Even a food blogger gets tired of cooking sometimes.

At 26, I figure that "board studying" will be my last legitimate opportunity to move home and have my parents take care of me, so here I am. My dad has been doing all the cooking, while my skills have been relegated to dessert. And what better time to apply my creativity to leftovers?

The routine is I come down, raid the fridge, then retreat to my room with the spoils. On Friday night my dad made buttermilk fried chicken from scratch; underneath the batter, the leftover chicken is juicy and briny. Leftover chicken is perfect for Asian-style salads: served cold with sesame noodles or over spinach with a simple dressing.

Leftover chicken salad:

• piece of cold chicken, skin and bones removed, cut into bite-size pieces
• chopped fresh spinach
• chopped radishes
• toasted sesame seeds
• dash or few drops each of rice wine vinegar, sesame oil, and soy sauce

Toss and enjoy!

Study set-up

Chicken and kale stir-fry

I'm at the Albany airport en route to the AMSA (American Medical Students Association) Medical Humanities Institute for the weekend -- with this blog as the writing project submission that earned me acceptance! Just took an exam, looking forward to a long weekend off from schoolwork, enjoying a glass of wine and some chocolate, and yet already regretting my decision not to bring my best friend and constant companion First Aid. Ah, the life of a second year med student with the major "step one" board exam coming up in June... I'm embracing it.

With this conference coming up, though, it's time to catch up on some writing.

I've always been hesitant to post a stir-fry recipe, because it's not a dish that's been passed down to me through family or for which I have any particular expertise. This particular version, though, is simple and reproducible and consistently tasty; a decent go-to for something healthy and quick if your Chinese mother or grandmother happens to be busy. Sometimes after a long day I'll come home and cook next night's library dinner before going to bed. Again: step one. One of the keys to eating decently during exam week is to be prepared.

Chicken and kale stir-fry:

• 3 cloves garlic
• 1"-square fresh ginger, peeled
• 1 chicken breast
• 1/2 bunch kale
• any other vegetables you so desire
• canola oil, soy sauce, black vinegar, white pepper, chili flakes

Chop the kale into ribbons, removing thick parts of the stalk and chopping separately. Slice the chicken into small thin pieces. 

Heat the canola oil in a frying pan. Finely chop or grate the garlic and ginger. Add to the hot oil along with chili flakes and stir. Once fragrant, add the chicken and stir. When the outside of the chicken is white, add the chopped kale stalk (as these take longer to cook than the leaves). Once the chicken seems to be cooked through (no longer pink in the middle), add the kale leaves. Add a 1/4-cup of water as needed to keep from burning. When the kale leaves are soft to your liking, season sparingly with soy sauce, vinegar, and white pepper. You can always add more soy sauce, but you can't take it away!

Soooo simple, right?

Doctoring is harder than I thought

Last night I saw a few patients at Dr. Bob's student-run free care clinic that takes place Wednesday nights. Every time I get a little bit better at one thing, it just gets harder: for instance, I've figured out how to fill a syringe and deliver an injection at the proper 90-degree angle, but then I realize that I've done none of the hard work to coo at and calm down the screaming toddler receiving the shot. Or, I've learned to read a blood test and identify iron-deficiency anemia, and I even flexed my "depression screening-stress counseling" skills for the first time, but then I realize that I did nothing to determine the underlying cause of the patient's anemia or counsel her as to prevention. In a chart it notes that a teenage girl had a negative pregnancy test a few weeks back: do I assume the provider at the time counseled her as to birth control and safe sex, do I take that on myself, or do I schedule a follow-up for more counseling?

Thus my feelings at the end of a clinic night are ambiguous or mixed: pride is followed by awareness of gaps and subsequent disappointment in myself. Do I end the night feeling optimistic or downtrodden? This is where I'm grateful to the residents and attendings, who witness the night and are our immediate role models. Their support and encouragement comes when it's most needed: it's okay, they say, and I should feel good about it.

You know what does get easier each time? Chicken soup. That universally makes me feel good. This time I tried an ultra-simple recipe: 1 whole chicken, 2 celery sticks, halved; 2 carrot sticks, halved; half an onion, 1 turnip, chopped; salt and pepper. Boil all together for 90 minutes, then serve with chopped celery, carrot, and onion, cooked in the soup for about half an hour, and rice, cooked separately.

Possibilities

This morning I volunteered at a flu clinic targeting Albany's refugee community, families from Bhutan and Nepal, Thailand, Iraq, and Africa, among others. The clinic came about a joint effort between Koinonia Primary Care, Albany's Refugee Health Round Table, and SUNY's School of Public Health. Koinonia is a family medicine clinic and federally qualified community health center serving the Arbor Hill community; most of their patients are African American and religious Christians, although they are open to all and serve some refugees as well. For this event, there was a specific drive to reach a different community, including Muslim families.

Accordingly, the student groups who volunteered for the flu clinic came from three campus clubs: Care from the Start, where students see patients at Koinonia; IMANA, which runs clinics at a mosque; and AMCRI, which works with the refugee families directly. We learned to fill syringes with vaccine and give shots, while downstairs, interpreters welcomed families and explained paperwork. Dr. Bob of Koinonia supervised but once we got running, we ran entirely independently, even training the next group on our own.

So what if we had a student-run clinic every Saturday, built out of the three clubs whose efforts currently run in parallel? Imagine the possibilities...

Then I came home to a quick lunch of cold sesame noodles, all components made ahead of time and just in need of assembly. A lunch produced through cultural exchange:

I am reblogging* this recipe from here, which was adapted from Fuchsia Dunlop's cookbook Land of Plenty, which translates Chinese recipes for American home cooks. Think of it as a recipe that has traveled a long way to your computer screen.

(*I used the condiments that I happened to have at home, and thinly sliced cucumbers instead of the other veggies.)

Pepian

So, what did we cook?

The request (again, this dinner party was not my idea), was for pepian, the traditional Guatemalan stew made with chicken and vegetables. I think of it as the Guatemalan equivalent of mole: a thick sauce with many ingredients -- sometimes with chocolate. We served this with salad (including avocado), a basil salad dressing, seasoned rice (with diced onions, carrots, tomatoes, and cilantro), and tortillas. The plating was beautiful, per Paulina's experience at the luxury hotel.

Pepian (or, Guatemalan chicken soup):

Amounts not exact

For the soup:

• 1 chicken
• several potatoes
• several carrots
• 1 chayote or small squash

For the sauce:

• 1/4 head of garlic
• 1 dried ancho chili
• 1 dried red chili
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 1/2 cup sesame seeds
• 1 cup pepitas (shelled squash seeds)
• 1 tomatillo
• 5 plum tomatoes

In a large pot, get a chicken soup going: cover the chicken with water, add salt, and boil. Peel and chop the potatoes, carrots, and chayote into large pieces.

In a pan that you don't mind burning (like a cast iron), begin browning the tomatoes on all sides. Blacken the skin -- you will discard it later -- and cook the tomatoes through. In another frying pan, begin browning the seeds. Slice each chili pepper lengthwise to flatten -- discard the seeds if you don't want a spicy sauce; keep them if you do. When the seeds are toasted, replace them with the garlic, then the chili peppers, then the tomatillo, as you have space. You will toast all of the sauce ingredients separately before blending them together. When they are cooked through and cool, slip the skins off the tomatoes. In a food processor with some water, blend the sauce ingredients together.

When the chicken is cooked and the soup has flavor (see tips for basic chicken soup here), remove the chicken to prepare for serving (take the meat off the bones and shred it with your fingers). Add the veggies and your pureed sauce to the stock and boil until the veggies are cooked through. Add the chicken back in to serve. Season to taste.

Serve with cilantro, lime, and avocado, if you like. This dish can be made veg by adding the sauce to a vegetable broth.

Paulina toasting sesame seeds and tomatoes

Plated dinners for 20

Cooking with less meat

The most surprising thing that I've learned in nutrition so far this year is that most of us need less protein than we think we do. I think that many of us young pseudo-athletes who grew up in the age of Atkins and South Beach were under the impression that we should eat mostly protein and vegetables. For me, doubts began to creep in when I observed Asian cooking, which is heavy on carbs and vegetables but still feeds mostly thin and healthy people. According to one of my professors, "there is no physiological advantage in consuming excess protein," because that protein will be broken down and converted to other products anyway (not made directly into muscle protein). In contrast, he says, "higher carbohydrate consumption preserves body protein" because carbohydrates, rather than muscle protein, can serve as your main source of energy. Apparently, we should aim for 45-65% of our daily calories from carbs, vs. 10-35% from protein.

From a taste and price perspective, adding chickpeas to this chicken curry adds variety of flavor and texture, and is cheaper, than using chicken alone. This recipe was inspired by my upstairs neighbor, originally from Kerala by way of Long Island, who has recently been trying to recreate her father's curry and generously sharing the rejected versions with me. Her dad makes a mean curry, her mom is a professor at Columbia Medical School: we both get teased by our moms for our fledgling knowledge of medicine; we both raid our dads' spice cabinets when we visit home.

Chicken and chole curry (this ingredient list may look longer than most but if you look closely it's really quite minimalist; these ingredients are good to have lying around):

• 2-4 tbsp ground cumin
• 2-4 tbsp curry powder
• dried chili flakes
• 1-2 tbsp grated fresh ginger
• 1-2 tbsp minced fresh garlic
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 cup canned tomatoes
• 1 cup dried chickpeas, reconstituted, or 1 can chickpeas
• 1/2 lb chicken breast or thighs, sliced
• canola oil
• salt & pepper
• couscous or rice for serving

In a pressure cooker or pot with a lid, heat a few tablespoons of the oil. When hot, add the ginger and garlic, then onion, then spices. Stir constantly and add water as needed so that the mixture becomes creamy and uniform without burning. Next, add the chicken and cook until the outside becomes white. Add tomatoes, chickpeas, and plenty of liquid, and cook on low pressure or low heat (with a lid) until chicken is cooked through and completely tender. Adjust spices as needed. Should be a brothy stew that can be served with couscous or rice.

From Old Delhi in 2005, not Kerala:

Chicken soup for the modern med student

It continues to snow, so I will continue to talk about soup. I love soup: it's easy to cook, usually healthy, and makes enough food for several days. These recipes are really from last week, when I made chicken matzoh ball soup for a Seder, then gave the leftovers a makeover later in the week.

In school, we've recently been talking about cultural competency and the use of interpreters. Unsurprisingly, it turns out that many of my classmates are fluent in an Asian language. I'm trying to learn Spanish. Asian languages are intimidating, but Asian home cooking less so; between friends and my dad's interest in Japan, I've tried to pick up some tips. Familiarity with food and holidays is a start towards cultural competency: maybe one day I'll learn some language skills as well.

Jewish doctor soup:

In a large soup pot, boil the following vegetables with a whole chicken until the meat falls off the bone and the soup tastes brothy.

• 1 large carrot, peeled and cut in half
• 1 celery stalk, in half
• 1 onion, in half
• 1 or 1/2 celery root
• several cloves of garlic, optional
• handful of fresh parsley
• handful of fresh dill
• whole peppercorns

At the end, season with salt and pepper and serve with rice, pasta, or matzoh balls. I prefer to make the soup the night (or a few hours) before serving so that I can chill it in the fridge overnight and skim off (and discard) the layer of fat that rises to the top.

Asian doctor soup: Starting with the leftover chicken soup from above, reheat chicken broth with chopped mushrooms and celery and shredded leftover chicken. Serve in small bowls with hot sauce and a drop each of sesame oil and soy sauce, plus cilantro or lime if you have it.

Check out Guatemalan doctor soup here.