The Solace of Food

         

          One of the worst things about moving to Kerrville is there’s no good Chinese restaurant. Oh, there are restaurants that say they serve Chinese food (and a Japanese one, too) but the food is truly awful. I know, how can you go wrong with Chinese? Well, you can.

          For over a year I’ve been pining for the chow mein at new Jade Gazebo in Oakhurst. My taste buds have not forgotten the scintillating tastes - thin slices of sweet Chinese pork, velvety chicken, succulent beef,  scrumptious shrimp married to chewy noodles and crisp bean sprouts, all cavorting in a delectable sauce. 

          Here, when I ordered Lo Mein, I got a salty, gloppy mass of linguine-like pasta drowning in a nondescript salty brown sauce with slices of meat. Yuck.

          So tonight I decided to cook my own Chow Mein and I want to tell you how I made it:

          First I cut “match sticks” of firm tofu, which I’d pressed between paper towels, so some of the moisture came out.   I also peeled and sliced the last remaining Japanese eggplant from our garden.

          I heated our electric griddle and added a little peanut oil. Then I carefully laid the slices of tofu and eggplant with plenty of space between them.  I left then alone while I cooked – for 3 minutes only – store-bought Chow Mein noodles, which I drained, rinsed in cold water and set aside.

          In the meantime, I added a little peanut oil to a non-stick skillet and when it was almost smoking, threw in one sliced baby bok choy and one sliced scallion. After a minute I added a pound of bean sprouts.

          While these cooked I placed the cooked noodles, in three little mounds, on the griddle. I turned and rotated the eggplant and tofu.

          I heated a cup of water in the microwave and when it boiled added a teaspoon of unsalted chicken broth concentrate.   To this I added about a teaspoon of soy sauce.   From the refrigerator I took my last packet of Panda Express hot sauce – the best! – and squeezed in about half a teaspoon, and for good measure added a little sugar.

          I added the eggplant and tofu to the bean sprout mixture in the pan, poured in the flavored broth and after a minute or so, added some watered-down cornstarch to thicken it.

          I placed some of the griddle-fried noodles on my plate and topped it with heaps of steaming vegetables and tofu. The aroma alone sent shivers up my spine.

          I poured a glass of crisp white wine and with my beloved teak chopsticks dug in.

          Why I love Chinese food so much is a mystery. Perhaps I was Chinese in a past life – which also explains why I studied Chinese for three years in the 1970s. Who knows. Who cares.

          I knock on the door of John’s office. He’s at his computer. I show him my plate and thank him for growing the eggplant for me, and for buying the griddle.   He says I should make this for company but there’s no way I would. When company comes I make sure everything is prepared well in advance so I can be a gracious hostess.

          Tonight I’m sweaty, my hair is wild, the kitchen is a mess but I’m content to devour my private meal one crunchy bite at a time until its gone.

          John, by the way, declines an invitation to share this meal. He had his 5:00 snack – summer sausage on Ritz crackers with mayonnaise scooped from the jar with a fork, washed down with a Fat Tire.  By 7:30 he reheats the leftovers of his Hungry Man Salisbury steak meal he had for lunch yesterday.

          When he’s done he returns to the garage to work on a new speaker design and I plant my contented ass in my desk chair to write about the solace of food. Maybe not a typical marriage. But it works for us.