tomatoes
hot dogs
pizza
pancakes
eggs (but only hard-boiled or poached or integrated into a dish)
chives
grapefruit
oranges
asparagus
butter 
mint
peanut butter 

Foods i still don’t like:

sweet potatoes
green bell peppers
 

How could you have hated pizza and hot dogs, you ask?  Well, i did grow up in South Korea, but then again, all my friends liked pizza and hot dogs and other American junk foods.  Tangent:  one variety of pizza in my elementary school in Seoul consisted of a hot dog bun with mozzarella cheese, olives, corn, and other vegetables inside.  I’m not sure if it even had tomato sauce.  If it did, it definitely had a heavily unbalanced ratio of cheese to sauce.  And it all came tightly wrapped in plastic.  WEIRDEST THING EVER.  We did have actual pizza, though.  

And the pancakes—i know, “Everyone loves pancakes!”  The pancakes in diners and breakfast chains always made me feel nauseous afterwards.  All that butter and/or buttermilk…yuck.  I’m not a fan of most American breakfast food items, such as omelettes, waffles, sausages, etc.  (I avoid IHOP like the plague.)  But once i perfected my own pancake recipe, i grew to like them and even crave them from time to time.  I’m still an untraditional pancake eater, though.  But i’ll save that for another post.

Share your own evolving likes and dislikes in the comments.

My group made a traditional bisteeya with squabs, eggs, and sugared almonds.  We didn’t have much time, so we had to take some shortcuts.  The cooking went smoothly, but i’m gonna be honest;  i don’t think our bisteeya came out so well.  The squab was nice and tender and the almonds were okay, but the egg was disappointing, and the pie as a whole could have had more flavor.  It also needed more salt.  I’m not a huge fan of phyllo either because of its flouriness and dry texture, but we didn’t have time to make warka, the traditional Moroccan pastry leaves.  I’m sure we could have made an excellent bisteeya had we had the time required to put in the love it deserves.  

The other groups’ dishes came out very well.  I am officially obsessed with Moroccan food.  I went to a North African restaurant while in Paris and didn’t like their food so much because the cinnamon in their savory dishes was overpowering (not sure if they were Moroccan; the country of origin was not specified).  Since many Moroccan dishes contain cinnamon, i thought i might not take to this cuisine very easily, but boy, was i wrong.  Never before have i encountered a cuisine that pairs textures and flavors so creatively.  Tender, shredded squab with moist, sauce-soaked egg and crunchy, sweet almonds?  Heaven.  Spicy meatballs with tender tomatoes and onions and poached eggs cradled in a lovely, flavorful sauce that’s a product of slow-cooking in a tagine?  Out of this world.  Moist couscous with a colorful bounty of vegetables and the reduced stock poured all over it?  Just perfect.  But the one dish that i still cannot get out of my mind is the sweet bisteeya with milk and almonds (Keneffa).  The custard filling was milky like any other custard/pudding, but the infusion of citrus flavor via the orange blossom water totally made the dish.  And the texture!  Oh my, the texture.  The custard was layered with fried, homemade warka which made for such a pleasant surprise and an enhanced body.  And there was yet another texture: the crushed, sugared, and cinnamoned almonds were sprinkled on top of the pudding once a skin had formed over it.  Those Moroccans…they are geniuses.  Sprinkling it after the skin has formed is such an elegantly simple trick to keeping the almonds crunchy.  Moroccan cooking, i’ve started to notice, is full of such elegant tricks.  And i actually enjoyed eating the skin!  Normally, i would freak out if someone let my pudding develop a skin.  I don’t think it was just because of the almonds, either; the skin on this pudding was starchier and thicker and actually integral to the pudding.  So in a sense, the skin was a textural element in itself.  

But eating was only half of today’s experience, of course.  I’m a confessed control freak who insists on being alone in the kitchen when cooking, but i have to admit, there’s nothing like communal cooking.  Food brings people together in magical ways, and it’s not only through eating; it’s through cooking, too.  It’s no wonder why most family memories are of cooking and eating together.  I only look forward to the many more wonderful memories my classmates and i will surely make when we spend a week in Morocco this January.

This is what you will get once you learn my method:

(I’ll have to make a rare exception to my rule of never using flash.  Please excuse these ugly photos.  I had to use flash to capture all the details at the bottom of the inside of the grapefruit.)

Now pay attention, because this is going to be very technical.  

The underlying principle is to avoid bursting juice sacs by scraping methodically.  I do not know the scientific term for the tiny “pulp”s that make up a section of a citrus fruit, so i will call them “sacs”.  I will also consider the sections as triangles with a base attached to the skin of the fruit and two sides.  The membrane that wraps a section and holds the sacs together shall be called “the section membrane.”  

Here’s my grapefruit eating method:

1.  Before you even attempt to scoop out any of the sections, consider the path you will be taking.  And by path, i mean the circle you will be making on your way through each section.  My trick is to find two contiguous well-sized sections; one of them you will start with, and the other, you will reach once you come around full circle.  The first and last sections are the most challenging to scoop out, and it helps when they’re bigger.  

Just as the first bite of the apple is the hardest to take, the first section of a grapefruit half is the most difficult to remove.  The key is to make it quick and painless for the first section.  Insert your teaspoon behind the base of the section triangle, carefully considering the angle of the curve of the entire grapefruit half so that you scrape off as much of the flesh as you can.  You can measure the rate of success by examining how much juice you have let out of the sacs.  You’ve probably let out a lot, but don’t be discouraged, because that’s almost inevitable with the first section.  

2.  Slide in your teaspoon very close to the left side as to get right between the sacs and the section membrane.  Make certain that the convex side of the spoon (the back) is against the membrane (this makes it easier to scrape membrane clean).  You’re trying to get all of the sacs off the section membrane and rupture as few as possible in the process.  

3.  Insert your teaspoon next to the other side of the triangle, keeping it close to the skin membrane.  But this time, the convex side of your spoon should be touching the sacs.  Yes, i know it’s counterintuitive, but trust me; as you continue to the other sections and get the hang of this whole thing, you’ll know why this is necessary.  I could explain my reasoning here, but it’s just going to add an extra huge paragraph, so i will let you figure out the beautiful logic behind this yourself (if you figure it out, email me at the address listed on my welcome page, and i will give you a prize.  No, really.)  Again, get the spoon as close to the membrane as possible.  And as a rule of thumb, whenever you’re working with the sides, the convex side of the spoon should be facing left (if you’re traveling counterclockwise).  

Your first section is now free from the rest of the grapefruit half.  Remove it carefully as to exert as little pressure as possible on the neighboring sections.  

You’ll see in the following picture that i’ve failed to take out the entire section.  In my fear of rupturing too many sacs, i didn’t dig down far enough.  But that’s okay—i can always go back later to retrieve the rest.  Key word:  later.  If this happens to occur to you in the first section, do not retrieve it at this point, or the width of your spoon will rupture too many sacs in the sections to the left and right.  

4.  Start with the next section by sliding your teaspoon in between the section membrane closest to you and the sacs.  

The tautness should feel very satisfying.  Now comes the even more satisfying part (but it’s only satisfying if you do it right).  Grab the spoon in your fist and rip that section membrane.  If you do it right, the section membrane behind the base of the triangle will rip right out with the side membrane.  

5.  Insert your teaspoon next to the other side of the triangle, just as you did in step 3.  This time, it should be easier to remove all the sacs from the membrane and you’ll be able to verify it by pushing the removed section towards you to reveal the membrane on the other side.  

6.  Now the only thing that’s holding the section to the fruit is the base.  This step takes the most skill, i think.  You can’t be too tough but you can’t be too gentle, either.  If the base membrane did not slide out along with the side 1 membrane in step 5, you have to be very careful how you insert your teaspoon in this step.  Make sure you get in between the section sacs and the membrane, not between the membrane and the pith (the bitter white “sponge” underneath the rind of the fruit).  You’re aiming to scoop out only the sacs and leave behind all of the section membrane.  If you scrape too hard, you might get the membrane and/or the lingering flavor of the pith off along with the sacs, but if you scrape too gently, you might not get all of the sacs off.  Use your best judgment, and with practice, you’ll get the force and twist of the wrist just right.  

7.  Continue steps 4 – 6 for each remaining section.  You always start with the sides and end by scraping the base off the grapefruit skin.  That is very important.  Believe me, i’ve tried doing side 1, base, then side 2, and it just doesn’t work the same way.  Here’s an example of the perfect side rip i was talking about in step 4:

A couple more pics for good measure:

The last section is the second most difficult to scoop out, and it will feel a little unstable because there will be no section next to it to provide support.  

And…ta da!  You’ve eaten a grapefruit half as clean as humanly possible with only an ordinary teaspoon.  Now you can brag about it to your friends.  Or…you could be less of a loser than myself and brag about more useful achievements, i guess.

If you’re one of those people who always ask for extra foam, care to explain why you love it so much?  I’d really like to know.

• one egg
• one whole wheat pita pocket
• crumbled feta
• hummus or babaghanoush
• Greek yogurt or tzatziki
• toasted pine nuts
• spring greens
• tahini

Boil an egg [here's how to make the perfect hard-boiled egg:  fill a small saucepan with cold water until the egg is covered by an inch or so, and put on a lid.  Once the water comes to a boil, turn the heat off and let the egg sit for 6 min.]  

Split a whole wheat pita pocket, put some crumbled feta on one half, wrap the whole thing in a damp paper towel (trust me, this is to prevent it from getting rock hard) and put it in the toaster oven (or not, this is only necessary if you prefer your feta warm and slightly melted).  On the other half, spread some hummus or babaghanoush, and Greek yogurt or tzatziki.  (Don’t limit yourself to these options; experiment with your favorite spreads.)  Roughly chop the hard-boiled egg and sprinkle it on to the feta pita half.  Add some toasted pine nuts.  Layer some spring greens over that, alternating with a couple squeezes (or teaspoonfuls) of tahini, and top with the other pita half.  If you’re afraid of the insides spilling out, you could form the sandwich by cutting the pita pocket in half so that you end up with two half-circles, and stuffing each half with the spreads and fillings.

nutrition:
egg = protein
whole wheat pita = complex carbs
spring greens = vitamins
 

dish count:
a teaspoon (for spreading)

I held the ceramic pot at a 45-degree angle and rolled it back and forth to crush the whole spices (cardamom, coriander, and cumin, if you’re curious).  Albeit time-consuming, it got the job done.  I’d still like to buy a mortar and pestle, though, just because it’d be invaluable in making pastes and grinding harder material, like rice.

spreads:

butter
nut butter 
clotted cream
jam
jelly
nutella
cream cheese
any soft cheese
hummus
babaghanoush
pâté
tapenade 

dips: 

oil
gravy
marinara
melted cheese

I use different spreads/dips for different breads.  For example, i’d never have butter or cheese on a pita.  Those i reserve for non-flat breads.  My favorite kind of bread is the baguette tradition (a fatter, shorter, and more rustic baguette), but since that’s not available in Central Jersey, i’ve been getting round loaves of 7-grain bread.  

I might feature some of the spreads and dips i listed above in future posts, but today, i want to focus on oil, because that’s my go-to bread accoutrement.  It takes less time to prepare than butter or cheese, which have to be taken out of the fridge ahead of time to reach room temperature and sliced (don’t even talk about butter spreads in front of me).  When you have to write ten pages in three hours and you’ve starved for the past nine, you want to eat something easy, quick, filling, and delicious, and that’s bread with dipping oil.  Bread and oil preparation was a nearly daily routine of mine, and it either occurred in the morning or at night.  

The morning routine:

Place a frying pan over the lowest heat possible.  Take bread out of the fridge and break off desired amount.  Sprinkle only the crust lightly with water, place in pan, and cover with a lid.  Take a seven-minute shower.  Remove lid, flip bread over, and turn the heat up a bit.  Sprinkle sea salt, black pepper, dried thyme, dried oregano, and crushed red pepper flakes into a small dish, and pour olive oil over the mixture.  Remove bread from pan and enjoy.

The night/early morning routine:

The same as above, but replace the shower with seven minutes of staring at the pool of papers and books around my computer and my chair and on my bed and agonizing over how much work i have left instead of actually doing it.

For the record, i didn’t have an oven.  And i never use toasters (more on that in another post).  Like my tea routine, the bread routine was something that comforted and sustained me.  And sprinkling a myriad of spices and herbs into one little dish is just plain fun.  I’ll share my recipe, but there’s a lot of room for experimentation here.

Dipping oil for bread

• coarse sea salt
• freshly ground black pepper
• garlic powder
• dried oregano
• dried thyme
• dried parsley
• crushed red pepper flakes
• good quality olive oil

My mom thought it was a rock when i came running with it in my hand to wake her up and show it to her.  Unfortunately, i never got to see what was inside, because i saved it to show my dad, and when i went to look for it a few days later, it was gone.  My mom used it, apparently, and she says that the inside was completely normal.  So it was just a quirky little egg, i suppose.