Hi, hello.
If you’re a subscriber, this is arriving in your inbox two days later than usual. Substack was down on Sunday morning, which is when I typically collect my thoughts for the week and sit down to write. And now, well, it’s Tuesday. Apologies.
Today is not the day for a short and breezy intro untethered from the heartbreaking reality of our world. Eight people were killed in Atlanta last week and six of them were Asian women. They were single moms and grandmothers and business owners. They loved karaoke and made the world's best kimchi stew. Their murders occurred against a backdrop of anti-Asian violence that has increased over the past year, fueled by racism and xenophobic fears about the pandemic.
Today is about acknowledging that the world we live in is deeply rooted in white supremacy and about committing to the (continuing) work it takes to be anti-racist in a racist world. This will never be a space where I “stick to sports.” Food — and, therefore dinner — does not exist in a vacuum.
I am a white person who enjoys learning about, making and eating food that comes from other communities that are not my own. Are you similar? Great! While it shouldn’t take liking someone’s food or music or culture to humanize them to you (insert every shady man’s “now that I have a daughter” tweet), this means that we have the opportunity to leverage our power and disrupt the unequal system we have benefited from. You can’t just take what serves you from a community and then ignore the very real pain and fear that they’re experiencing.
Here are some immediate ways to show solidarity with the AAPI community:
Buy from Asian businesses, restaurants and food artisans (Omsom! Fly By Jing!)
Order from your local Bakers For Change organizers (I am picking up later this week from Extra Extra and my friend Becca)
Support victims and their families via their direct GoFundMe campaigns or through Asian Americans Advancing Justice Atlanta
Contribute resources, if you have something to provide
Register to attend a virtual bystander intervention training
To anyone who’s scared for themselves, their families, or their friends, I am sending my love. We are with you in this.
What I made for dinner:
Palm Springs pearl couscous and citrus salad: I have never been to Palm Springs, but seeing as it’s still March in Buffalo (and we’re likely in the midst of a Fake Spring), I will gladly take any excuse I can to pretend I’m somewhere with palm trees and bountiful citrus. This recipe is from the cookbook “Simply Julia” and my favorite kind of salad (one that is mostly pasta). I couldn’t find the recipe anywhere online, but here’s what I can offer.
Cook about a cup of pearl couscous per the package instructions, toasting it in some olive oil before adding the water if you have the chance. Once that’s done, pull it off the heat and pour into a serving bowl. Drizzle a bit of red wine vinegar overtop the hot couscous and fold in a few tablespoons of finely minced red onion (the heat and the vinegar will mellow the raw onion).
While that cools, peel one or two oranges and cut them into slices through the middle. Then, cut those slices in half so you’ve got half-moon shaped pieces (or you can just segment them if you know how — I’m still learning). Either way, once you’ve got your citrus ready toss it in with your couscous. Finely chop some parsley and salted pistachios and throw those in too. Finally, add salt to taste. I added some microgreens at the very end because I had them on hand, but they aren’t called for in the original recipe. Feta is, however, so include that if you’d like. We served it alongside a steak.
If you were hoping for something more like an actual recipe with measurements and the like, I come bearing a consolation prize. While not at all the same as the recipe above, I do love Ina Garten’s tuna and couscous salad. I used to make this for lunch prep when I was still going into the office — it’s variable, makes a ton of food and can stand up to a few days of refrigeration without losing any of its punch.
Low-and-slow baked Greek chicken and potatoes: Another recipe from “Simply Julia.” What’s ingenious here is right in the title: it is seriously slow cooking. Like, it took nearly 3 hours slow. But after your prep work (which is a cinch — chop potatoes, dump ingredients on a sheet pan, mix marinade, pour overtop), it’s entirely hands off. My only complaint was that the chicken breasts were a bit drier than the rest of the pieces, but that’s an issue easily remedied: next time I’ll only do dark meat. I ran everything under the broiler for one final crisping at the end.
Sticky chicken with broccoli and rice: Okay, this is the last recipe from “Simply Julia” for this week (and probably for a few weeks). She’s not joking about simplicity, folks — this was very easy to pull together and you probably have all the ingredients for the sauce on hand. I hold strong opinions about ketchup (provenance*, suitability as a burger topping) but it works nicely here to balance out the salt of the soy sauce and sweetness of the honey. Heat some frozen broccoli, make some rice and that’s dinner.
*The best ketchup in the world is the kind that you pump into little paper cups from a dispenser at McDonalds. The packets they give you at the drive-thru are not the same. I will go down with this ship.
What I made that wasn’t for dinner:
My platonic ideal of egg salad (I use plain ol’ mayo) on toast and a broccoli soup that was…I guess good for using up a lot of broccoli from a different recipe I abandoned? It did not look like the photo. It definitely tasted like broccoli.
Other dinner-adjacent things from this week
My friend Caitlin wrote this piece for Kitchn about our pandemic cooking habits and whether or not they’ll stick around.
The Sporkful made a new pasta shape! Behold, the cascatelli.
Goodbye TV dinner, hello mujadara, pozole, and sweet potato ndambe.
I am now signing off all correspondence with “stay sharp and frosty”
Brava, Katie!