Asian Noodles with Steak and Snow Peas

(This is from the draft archives circa September, and I just now rediscovered it. Enjoy!)

Finally a return to food! It feels like ages since I have gotten the chance to make something worth writing about. I made Asian Noodles with Steak and Snow Peas this past weekend for Aaron and myself and it won rave reviews from both of us. Aaron even dropped by my apartment by surprise Sunday for high def football and leftovers, and Aaron is not a fan of the leftover. I cannot recall where the recipe came from, so apologies to wherever I found it.

First of all, this dish is as simple as making spaghetti with meat sauce, but far more unique and flavorful. The steak is tender and flavorful, the snow peas add nice crunch and the peanuts cut through the flavors with a pleasant taste. I do not think the soba noodles are as dry as Italian-style noodles, so I did not notice the absence of a sauce. Nice combination of flavors I would not have naturally put together. A meal worth repeating.

Asian Noodles with Steak and Snow Peas

coarse salt and ground black pepper
8 oz. soba (Japanese buckwheat noodles)
1.5 lb. skirt steak, cut in half or thirds if too large to fit in skillet
1 lb. snow peas, stem ends removed
2 Tb. soy sauce
1/4 cup unsalted peanuts, chopped

In a pot of boiling salted water, cook noodles until al dente, about 7 minutes. Drain; set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Season steak with salt and pepper. Cook (in batches if necessary), turning once, until medium rare, about 2 to 6 minutes per side. Transfer steak to a cutting board, and loosely tent with aluminum foil (reserve skillet juices).

Add snow peas to skillet and toss with juices. Cook on medium-high tossing occasionally, until crisp-tender, 2 to 3 minutes. Add noodles, soy sauce and 2 tablespoons water, cook until warmed through, about 20 seconds. Transfer to serving bowls. Slice steak thinly; place on top of noodles, and add any accumulated juices. Scatter with peanuts and serve.

GANC: Their Eyes Were Watching God

I am not sure about this book. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston is a decent book, but I did not grasp its importance in American history. Written in 1937 by an African American woman, this book went in and out of print and the American conscience until the late 60s when largely female African American professors unearthed it and began teaching and writing about it. Is this a case where the book's greatness prompted the teaching and focus, or did the teaching and focus prompt this book's greatness?

As most of you know, I am not an African American female, nor have I read and researched much in African American literature, so there is an obvious gap in my knowledge. Perhaps I am making an unfair parallel, but if this book were written by a white female about poor white people, I am unconvinced it would have the standing it does today. However, I am not here to compare a mythical book to this one, I am here to talk about the book I read.

Beautifully descriptive passages. This is the most superb part of the book, Hurston's elegant and unique way of expressing the time and place of action. In the opening of the book, this:

"Seeing the woman as she was made them remember the envy they had stored up from other times. So they chewed up the back parts of their minds and swallowed with relish. They made burning statements with questions, and killing tools out of laughs. It was mass cruelty. A mood come alive. Words walking without masters, walking altogether like harmony in a song."

This plays in stark contrast to the rural Southern dialect the characters speak. "At dat she ain't so ole as some of y'all dat's talking," for instance. It is so jolting to the eye that once you encounter the eloquent words, you hope they go on for pages. And then, when the dialect erupts, you change your rhythm and cadence and almost speak the writing yourself to understand it. Hurston grew up with this dialect, so to read these contrasting words echoes of how she must feel - history of rural, life now of sweet eloquence.

Perhaps this book fell short for me because of what I read about it before chapter one. I read the forward, which is usually a smart thing to do should a book have one. But in this case, I feel the forward puffed the book up in a way that as I dug into it, my grand picture of what the book was to be fell short. It was like hearing all your friends talk about how awesome a movie is and then seeing it yourself and it not being as great because it had been so talked up for you. Disappointing.

This is an excellent novel of a side and voice of America not often placed center stage. It is stark and beautiful, simple and pained. A woman rising above history, stereotype, men, fortune, and family in order to find her happiness. Is it the great American novel? No. Is it a great African American/woman's perspective novel? I think so.

Great American Novel Challenge Booklist:

July 2009: Absalom, Absalom! - William Faulkner, publ. 1936

August 209: Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry, publ. 1985

September 2009: Moby Dick - Herman Melville, publ. 1851

October 2009: For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway, publ. 1940

Soup's On! (Slow Cooker Hoisin Beef Stew)

This past weekend brought another batch of soups for the eating. I perused my recipe collection and found a Whole Foods "Meals for 4 under $15" pamphlet with Slow Cooker Hoisin Beef Stew included as one of the five recipes. Yet another super easy meal. And super tasty. The hardest part for me was cutting the onions - man, I got some tearjerkers this time! When I put everything together to marinate overnight, I was worried because I had to guess on what 1.5 pounds of meat was; the smallest beef stew meat amount they had was 2.7 pounds. The sauce looked paltry and I worried that I would end up with dry meat and no "stew."

However, after letting it cook all day and creating a sweet barbecue-like aroma in my apartment, there was enough sauce, though not enough to qualify as stew. Aaron brought over his rice cooker so we could ladle the beef over some toothsome brown rice. I was not risking a repeat of burning or, my most recent accomplishment, water logging my rice. All the flavors and chunks go together so well, and it has this little wisp of spice that warms you up. The large beef chunks cooked and softened so they shredded into smaller pieces, which meant we were able to get a little of everything in our bowls in each bite. I cannot wait to use the rest of my stew meat for another pot of this great meal.

Hello, Old Friend

I am not a Facebooker (or whatever people who Facebook are called). Yes, I have an account and, no, I do not use it really. However, it has come in handy from time to time. Learning of a friend's pregnancy or engagement or marriage, a big move, or a new job. Well, let's file this Facebook discovery under big move and new job...sort of.

I was reading the updates and one of my friends growing up (and high school classmate), stated that it was really good to see Brian play last night, it had been a long time since he'd seen him. Now, to most people reading that, probably would not have meant much. But I had a strong suspicion that I knew who this Brian person was.

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to the guy I took to my senior banquet, Brian Bandas...

He's the first guy you see - the one in the white shirt and one playing the yellow guitar. When I knew him, he was our youth group's band leader, starting a band called Three Nails Short, learning to play harmonica like John Popper, and working at Chick-fil-A. I knew I would see him in music some day and would Google him from time to time to see if he had made it big yet. So, to see that he and his band have a record deal and an album coming out makes me pretty proud of the guy. Good job, Bandas.

(Here's a link to his band's CMT profile - Love and Theft.)

Soup's On! (Beans & Barley)

Ooh, a food post, a rare thing these past months - yippee! Lest you think I have been living off PB & J and take out, I promise you I have been actually making food, just not a lot of note. Or I have pictures of food that have not been uploaded and I am a procrastinator. Perhaps a little of column A, little of column B.

Last week, I decided with the temp dip into the 70s that it was time to begin soup season. Yes, anything below 80 qualifies as cool weather for this Texan. Aaron and I schemed to split the soup between us and have enough for almost a week's worth of dinner each. We began with Slow Cooker Bean and Barley Soup. Just before bed, I chopped up carrots, celery and onion, dumped them into the Crock Pot along with beans (I used a bag of 15-bean), barley, water and a few cans and seasonings, turned the Crock Pot on, went to bed and awoke Saturday morning the warm aroma of cooked beans. Added a few more things per the recipe and scooped it all into containers. Tada!

The soup came out thick, more on the line with almost a chili. When I reheated it for dinner that night, I added some chicken stock to thin it a little, but water of course could be used. I thought it was on the salty side, so I would reduce the amount of salt at the beginning a little, or the amount of Parmesan at the end. I may have added a little more cheese than asked for. The beans and barley soften well and blend together with the veggies and spices quite well. The beans more or less kept their shape, so it is not like you are eating mush for lunch. Add some hearty crusty bread on the side and you have a fantastically filling meal.

GANC: For Whom the Bell Tolls

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway surprised me. I had heard horror stories of high school friends reading The Old Man and the Sea, so I suspected an even longer book by Hemingway would prove somewhat painful. It was no easy road, but it was, dare I say, enjoyable to read. For Whom the Bell Tolls is a hard book to put your finger on. Set during the Spanish Civil War, it follows an American as he bands together with a group of Republican guerrilla fighters as he sets in motion a plan to blow up a Fascist-controlled bridge. The majority of the book is the three days leading up to the bridge explosion.

Perhaps I should back up a little. The book opens with part of a poem by John Donne, from which the title of the book acquires its name.

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
(Italics Hemingway's)

The theme of this book draws largely from the sentiment of no man being an island. Hemingway shows how even a small group of people from disparate backgrounds and motives, need one another in order to advance their goal. Throughout the novel, there is an ebb and flow of coming together and breaking apart. Sometimes it is simple, as when Robert Jordan, the Ingles, leaves his lover Maria to scout out the bridge. Other times it is more far-reaching, as when Pablo steals some of the weaponry and disappears, leaving the group short ammunition, men, and horses. It is beautifully detailed and simply written. A slow progression of Jordan's movement from idealist to something else, something more tangible and true.

However, none of that is about the great American novel-ness of the book (or not). Robert Jordan is a symbol of a young ideal American. He sees a problem in Spain, wants to help and so he goes, not giving thought to what or who he is fighting for. He signed up for a cause and, after he met the people, the cause became blurred. It stopped being good against evil. As America, we look though ideal lenses out on the world, seeing where we can fix things, where people need our help. And we go, to create for ourselves an even more ideal place abroad, to bring our idealism to the masses. When we arrive, after the luster has faded, we see how much we have to learn, how small we really are, and that what we came to do may not be what we should do. It is a sentiment I have not seen often in books by American authors.

Despite that, I am not convinced this is the great American novel. It is a superb novel, but there is not a lot of outright American to it. I have no doubt that Hemingway is a great American author, and I look forward to reading more of his books in the future, but For Whom the Bell Tolls does not meet my expectations of being a novel to raise up as a great American one. I hesitate to write that because it is excellent, excellently written and excellently executed. What is funny is if you were to change this from Spanish Revolution to American Revolution or Civil War, even Vietnam, I think I would bump it closer toward the ideal great American novel. Perhaps it falters because I know as much about this war as I have learned from this book and Pan's Labyrinth - not a whole lot.

Great American Novel Challenge Booklist:
July 2009: Absalom, Absalom! - William Faulkner, publ. 1936
August 2009: Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry, publ. 1985
September 2009: Moby Dick - Herman Melville, publ. 1851

GANC: Moby Dick

Moby Dick by Herman Melville was not what I expected. Perhaps I ran into a case where I am so familiar with the climax, the focus of the tale, that at every turn of the page I expected a siting of the White Whale and a Moby Dick. vs. Ahab fight to the death. It took over four-fifths of the book for the whaling vessel Pequod to even see the whale. So, if the book is not about a fight between a whale and a man, what is it about?

This is the point, early on, that things begin to fall apart for me. This book is so thick with meaning, layering and heft, and I was unable to devote the time and intensity necessary to understand even half of it. Where's Mrs. Jackson, my high school English teacher, when you need her? But I will try to piece together what little I did get about and from the story.

In a way, the two main character, Ahab (the captain) and Ishmael (the narrator and crew member) counter balance one another elegantly. Ahab seeks Moby Dick in order to conquer it, to know it in its death. Ishmael, on the other hand, seems to want an adventure and to know the ins and outs of whales in general. Many chapters are devoted to Ishmael discussing types of whales, bones of whales, intellect of whales, whales in literature, whales in art, uses of whale parts, the benevolence or malevolence of different whales. One man desires to know one whale to its soul. Another to know all whales' in their parts, possibly in hopes of explaining to himself, and thus the reader, Ahab's passionate pursuit of Moby Dick.

In addition to this ongoing discussion of knowledge and knowing, Melville incorporates a discussion of fate and prophesy throughout the book. This one was harder for me to track since it did not typically consist of a chapter-long aside, as did Ishmael's discussion on whales. From seemingly insane men prophesying doom to the very name of the ship, Pequod, a Native American tribe that did not last long after white men arrived, this permeating sense of doom weaves its tendrils throughout the book. The reader senses the tragic outcome before many of the characters do.

As for how Moby Dick relates and interacts with American culture, I posit that this is the quintessential tale of man versus nature as well as single-minded pursuit. To extrapolate to our culture, this theme touches on conquering the unconquerable and ambitiously pursuing a goal at all costs, things that define what has come to be the American stereotype. That relentless pursuit sometimes yields great progress and light, and sometimes it yields a person's own White Whale. If one were ask the average American for literary examples of these ideals, most would not name Moby Dick, but it is there in the background, just under the surface below visibility.

Great American Novel Challenge Booklist:
July 2009: Absalom, Absalom! - William Faulkner, publ. 1936
August 2009: Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry, publ. 1985