Aloo Gobi Burritos:

Indian Grub, food Truck Style

My company recently did an event on Treasure Island in San Francisco. We were a vendor amongst many other vendors out to promote our company and meet potential customers. It makes for a pretty long weekend standing on the asphalt for two days straight in the sun and talking to hundreds of people. That feeling of being "on" for several hours at a time can wear a guy down. But it's business and we do what we gotta do. Besides that, it actually was pretty fun and interesting. We met some really cool people from all over, we learned a lot about the island, and we ate some pretty awesome food.

I'm kind of a down-home, back road, greasy spoon, mom and pop type of dude. So when the food truck craze started a few years back, I took to it like baby duck hitting the pond for the first time. I was ready. I was pre-conditioned. It was pure instinct. Luckily, I have one those stomachs that isn't adverse to a little food borne bacteria. The fact of the matter is that I've eaten some pretty rank shit out of some very questionable food trucks in my day and came out smiling and looking for more. I've paid my dues.  

I come from the era where if you ate a taco off of one of these rolling cesspools, you'd better plan on an afternoon on the porcelain throne doing a lot of paperwork. But there were always the diehards. The dudes that loved those tacos so much that they sacrificed their very own health just for that flavor. An assumed risk, as it were. They pressed on in the face of adversity. There are those that have survived Everest. And there are those who have survived, at the time, largely unregulated food truck cuisine. I was one of those dudes. That's where I developed my roach coach chops. It was like a boot camp for my immune system. It has helped mold me into the man I am today. 

Oh, but times have changed. Now food trucks are a dime a dozen. And because of the fierce competition, their street cred is everything. I'll say it again...everything. Your food better be top notch (especially at $9 a burrito, you treacherous bastards) and you better not have your customers doing too much paperwork. Nobody likes paperwork. Prime example: there was a buzz going around the event to stay away from a particular truck, who shall remain nameless, because the last time, several people got sick and had to go to the hospital. It had even found it's way into the Yelp reviews. Done. Street cred set back to zero.

That being said, the modern day street grub is much safer than it was back when I was eating mystery meat burritos off the plain white truck in the middle of a, shall we say, less than desirable neighborhood.  And on this particular occasion, I had the pleasure of having a aloo gobi burrito. I was instantly aflutter. You might even say giddy. I giggled like a school girl until I realized I was in close proximity to other people at which point I fake coughed and pretended I had something in my throat. I knew I had to do it myself. And so I did. Please enjoy.... 

Tip: Practice "mise en place" with this recipe as the first part goes quickly. Having all your ingredients prepped and ready to go prior to cooking will save you from the possibility of burning you ingredients/spices.  

Tip: This dish isn't traditionally served as a burrito. So don't feel obligated to put it in a tortilla. It's just as good by itself. 

Tip: This one has a little bit of a kick. If you don't like too much heat, cut back on the serranos and cayenne.  

Aloo Gobi Burritos

Ingredients: 

• 4 garlic cloves, finely minced
• 1 inch of ginger, finely minced or grated
• 2 Tbsp coriander powder
• 1/2 tsp turmeric
• 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1/3 cup water
• 6 Tbsps peanut oil
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1/4 tsp hing (Asafoetida)
• 3 bay leaves
• 4 small serrano peppers (chopped)
• 1/2 large or 1 small cauliflower, cut into small florets
• 4 medium potatoes, diced
• 1 Tbsp salt (or to taste)
• 2 tsp mango powder (amchoor)
• 1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves (from about 6 sprigs)
• 5 large burrito sized tortillas

Preparation:

1. Combine the garlic, ginger, coriander, turmeric, cayenne pepper and water in a small bowl and stir to combine. Set aside. 
  

2. Heat the oil in a dutch oven over a medium high heat until the oil is shimmering. Toss a cumin seed in. If is sizzles, it's hot enough. Then add the cumin seeds and hing. Stir for a minute until the seeds begin to slightly darken. 

3. Now add the bay leaves and the peppers. Stir for a minute and then add the spice/water mixture. Continue to stir until the oil and spice begin to separate, about one minute. 

3. Add in the cauliflower, potatoes, salt and a 1/4 cup of water. Stir to coat the cauliflower and potatoes. 

4. Lower the heat to medium and cover the pot. Let it cook for 15-20 minutes making sure to stir every 3-4 minutes.  If it gets too dry, just add water to prevent burning. Keep in mind this isn't a "saucy" recipe. It's supposed to be moist but not in a sauce.   

4. Finally, add the amchoor powder and the cilantro and stir to combine. Let stand for a few minutes for the amchoor to combine.

5. Heat a tortilla until it's nice and warm and pliable. Fill with 1/4 of the aloo gobi and wrap like a burrito. Repeat to make all 4 burritos.


Serves: 5 

  

Vegetarian Chili:

You Don't Need Meat To Have A Good Time (That's What She Said)

I'm sorry about that title.

Chili is one of those American staples that seems to make it's way into every nook and cranny of this country. I counted the recipes online and there are 86.3 trillion of them, all different. FYI: I'm just kidding, I didn't really do that. Let's say there's a butt-load of them.

Growing up, I always loved chili day. I especially loved chili day with cornbread. I think it's the sweetness of the cornbread in contrast to the heat of the chili that appeals to my culinary sense of satiety. As an adult, I have made chili an uncountable amount of times. Every time I made it, it was pretty similar to last time I made it yet it was always completely different, if that makes sense. It's one of those dishes that I never really sat down and hammered out a recipe. Then, when I went veg, I just quit making it. Not for any reason other than the fact that I was making so many other things, it never popped onto my "must-make" list until just recently. 

Now that it's made the list, there is an elephant in the room when it comes to vegetarian chili that must be dealt with. Shall we talk about it? Majority vote (me) says yes. I don't quite understand where it was written that once you remove the meat, you had to add corn, zucchini, five different types of beans including garbanzos, etc, etc,   etc. Where in the hell did that translation come from?

To me, chili is going to be simple. Primarily beans, meat, or a combo of the two. Simple. All that extra stuff simply isn't necessary. Prior to going vegetarian, I was always a beans/meat combo fan. Obviously this recipe will have no meat so it's gonna be....umm....beancentric. However, I'm going to add finely chopped mushrooms here to give it that hearty flavor that a good chili needs. I know you don't typically see mushrooms in a chili but if you're gonna take the meat out, you kinda gotta replace it with a little sumpin' sumpin' to help fill in that gap. I'm not ashamed to say, I've become a bit of a mushroom whore over the last few years (please pardon my French). They have managed to take a stronghold in my kitchen. And they reign supreme with the exception their one and only arch-enemy, my wife. 

I know I'm reaching off topic here, but as I write this post, I am reminded of this weird little chick who peddles organic mushrooms at the local farmers markets. I say she's weird because she really is. I calls 'em as I sees 'em. She won't make eye contact with you but she will rattle on, all the while looking at your feet, about how the mushrooms are grown, spewing little factoids about mushrooms that the lay person would not even know about or even care about, for that matter. I think she's the 'Shroom Whisperer. It amazes me how engrossed I am by this person who won't look at me. I reckon it's because I have a strong sense of her passion. She is truly in love with her mushrooms and I can't do anything but admire that. Let it be known, I'm her fan and I'll buy her mushrooms any day of the week. If you can find someone who has such passion about mushrooms, my advice would be to keep them as near to you as you possibly can.  

Vegetarian Chili

Ingredients: 

• 4 Tbsp oil, divided (I used peanut oil)
• 4 oz. mushrooms, finely diced (I used Portobellos but you can use cremini or baby bellas)
• 1/2 cup celery, finely diced
• 1/2 cup green bell pepper, finely diced
• 1/2 cup white or yellow onion, finely diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 (15 oz) can of tomato sauce
• 2 cups vegetable broth (you can also use 2 cups water with one Knorr vegetable bouillon cube)
• 2 Tbsp chili powder
• 2 tsp ground cumin
• 2 tsps salt (or to taste)
• 1 tsp ground black pepper
• 1 tsp dried Mexican oregano
• 2 bay leaves
• 1-2 jalapenos, finely diced (optional)
• 3 (15 oz) cans kidney beans, drained and rinsed
• chopped onion (for garnish)
• chopped cilantro (for garnish)

Preparation:

1. Heat 2 Tbsp of the oil in a large pot over a medium high heat. Add the mushrooms and saute until they begin to brown, approximately 4 minutes. Remove mushrooms to a bowl and set aside. 

2. Add remaining 2 Tbsp to the same pot over a medium high heat and add the celery, bell pepper and onion. Saute for about 4 minutes until they are soft. Then add the garlic and saute for another 1-2 minutes until veggies begin to brown. 

3. Add the mushrooms back to the pot. Then add the next 10 ingredients up to and including the beans. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to a simmer.  

4. Simmer, stirring occasionally for 30 - 40 minutes to allow the sauce to thicken. If it gets to thick, just add water to your desired consistency.

5. Serve with onion and cilantro sprinkled on top. Preferably with a nice corn bread on the side. 


Serves: 4 (at my house, it serves 3)

  

Chinese Orange Tofu:

Orange You Glad I Didn't Say Chicken?

I guess there's some unwritten but well understood law which dictates that one cannot eat the same type of food two meals or even two days in a row. That's a rule I don't understand. Somehow I just missed the boat on that one. For example, if I go to a Mexican restaurant for lunch and get some tacos, I'll eat them and move on. Then, when dinner rolls around, I'll have no problem making enchiladas. My wife, on the other hand is a staunch champion of the unwritten law. She'll say, "Enchiladas?!! We just had Mexican for lunch!" I'll reply, "And your point is?" To which she'll respond, "You CAN'T have Mexican for lunch AND dinner!" I'll volley back with a "why not?" And her answer is always the same: "Because you just can't, that's why." 

I rarely feel that way. Especially about Chinese food. I could have it two or three days in a row and never think twice about. Well, not until I'm reminded of the law anyway. "Because you just can't. That's why." How can I argue with that?  

There is a Chinese food joint up the street from my house that my wife and I frequented for several years. The food was always amazing but the service was always horrid. It was pretty common for us to get our plates several minutes apart from each other and the only time our drinks were refilled was when we flagged down the waitress. Then one day, it happened. The quality of the food took a nosedive. It became consistently mediocre. It seems the cook that had made that wonderful food for so long was gone. On what great new adventure he had embarked upon was never learned by us. Oh well, I suppose all great things must come to and end.

However, back in it's heyday, when the food was still awesome and the service still sucked, we would often talk to the gals serving the food and try to get hints on what was in it (besides the obvoius, of course). We were always told that the chefs were very secretive of their recipes and techniques. When the wait staff would inquire about the ingredients, the chefs would clam up and would actually put their bodies in between the wait staff and the food so nobody could see what they were doing. They told us that the cooks had come here from China and had been trained in Chinese cooking for many years prior to their arrival. They claimed that the techniques were highly secretive and that nobody in the restaurant knew the "secrets" except the chefs. I always thought that was kind of cool but now that I think about it, maybe they were just messing with me. Hmmmm. 

We've since found another Chinese place a little further out but just as good. One of our favorite dishes there is Chinese Orange Tofu. It's basically crispy fried tofu tossed with broccoli in a somewhat spicy orange sauce. We get it every single time we go there. We can be creatures of habit when we find something we really like. But that's ok because every time I eat it, I'm just in Heaven. 

As many times as we've ordered it, I figured it was about time to figure out how I could make it myself. I'm sure there are some secrets from somewhere deep in China that I'll never be privy to, but that's ok, it'll be close if not better. Take that, super secret chef from China!

The crispy tofu portion of this recipe I found here at Serious Eats. Great site to peruse. 

Chinese Orange Tofu


Ingredients:

• 1 Tbsp salt
• 1 tub extra firm tofu
• 1 1/2 cups freshly squeezed orange juice
• 1/2 cup vegetable broth
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2 Tbsp rice vinegar
• 2 Tbsp Chinese rice wine
• 2 Tbsp soy sauce
• 1 Tbsp fresh ginger, finely minced
• 2 cloves garlic, finely minced
• 3 Tbsp orange zest
• 2 tsp sesame oil
• 1/4 tsp white pepper
• 5 dried red peppers (think chiles de arbol or cayenne pepper), halved, seeded, stem removed
• 6 Tbsp cornstarch, divided
• 1 quart peanut oil (or other frying oil)
• 2 cups broccoli, cut into bite sized florets

Accompaniment: 

• white rice

Preparation:

1. In a medium saucepan, add the salt and about 6 cups of water and bring to a boil.  

2. Meanwhile, drain your tofu and cut widthwise into 3/4 inch thick slices. 

3. Place the tofu slices in a large bowl and cover with the boiling water. Let stand 30 seconds, then drain off the boiling water being careful not to break your tofu slices. 

4. Place tofu slices, side by side, on a towel or a few paper towels and cover with another towel or paper towels. If possible, place a cookie sheet on top of the layers and place a weight (maybe just a few pounds) on top of the cookie sheet. Let stand for 15 minutes. Tip: The idea here is to squeeze out any excess moisture in the towels. Tip: Be careful not to make the weight so heavy as to crush the tofu.  

5. In a medium sauce pan, add the next twelve ingredients up to and including the dried red peppers and stir to combine. 

6. Make a slurry with 3 Tbsp of the cornstarch and 2-3 Tbsp of cold water. Stir cornstarch slurry into the sauce mixture. 

7. Over a medium high heat, bring sauce mixture to a simmer, stirring frequently. Turn heat to low and continue to simmer until sauce has thickened, about 5 minutes. Pour the sauce into a bowl and set aside.  

7. Clean and dry the saucepan and add the peanut oil. Bring your oil to 350° F. Tip: Be careful not to go much higher, you don't want to burn your oil. 

8. While the oil is heating, cut your tofu slices into 3/4 inch cubes. Place tofu in a bowl and toss with the remaining cornstarch. 

9. Deep fry the tofu in two batches for approximately 4 minutes per batch and drain on paper towels to absorb excess oil. 

10. In a wok, heat a tablespoon of oil over a high heat until just smoking. Add the broccoli and stir fry until broccoli is just beginning to brown but still green and slightly crunchy, approximately 2-3 minutes. Now add the tofu and the sauce to the wok. Toss with the sauce to coat the tofu and broccoli, about 1 minute. Serve immediately.  

Servings: 4