MITCH IN THE KITCHEN

cold-brewed iced coffee

I had a very vivid dream recently (a nightmare, really) about ordering lunch at a small Chinese fast food restaurant. The people behind the counter kept forgetting my order, then ended up getting it completely wrong, hours after my dining companions had finished their meals. Exasperated, I asked the server to cancel my lunch order and just get me an iced coffee. I watched as she reached for a hot pot of brewed coffee and a cup of ice. That was the last straw. I stormed out of the restaurant, determined to find a properly prepared glass of iced coffee before class (which I was already late for).

Cold brewed coffee, as this article expresses in many more words than I will, tastes different from (and much better than) hot coffee that has simply been cooled down. It is also very easy to make; all you need to do is mix ground coffee with water in a ratio of about 1 cup coffee to 4 cups water, and let it sit for at least 12 hours. I like to use a cleaned 1-quart glass juice bottle. When it’s ready, simply strain the liquid through a coffee filter (I have one of these, but you could also use paper filters, a fine-mesh sieve, or a French press), pour over some ice, and add milk if you’d like. The result lacks the bracing bitterness and acidity that you might find in hot coffee. Further reading and detailed instructions here, here, and here.

We also received some especially delicious coffee beans from our friends Mooni and Jake, who are currently visiting from San Francisco. If I seem really wired this weekend, this is why.

napa cabbage kimchi

During the course of my Food Microbiology course, I was inspired to see some natural fermentation take place in my own home. Kimchi, a spicy pickled Korean condiment commonly made with napa cabbage, employs the services of naturally present bacteria to give it that characteristic tangy, pungent aroma. In summary, I put a bunch of stuff in a jar and let the microbes go to town. In detail, I did the following:

1. Remove the outer leaves on 1 small head of napa cabbage. Rinse under cold water to remove any dirt. Cut in half lengthwise, then cut each half into three equally sized wedges (for a total of 6 pieces).

2. Dissolve 1/2 cup kosher salt (or other coarse salt) in about 3-4 quarts of water, in a large bowl. Add cabbage and place a plate on top to keep each piece submerged. Let the cabbage soak for 2 hours at room temperature, then rinse and squeeze out as much water as you can.

3. Shred 1 small daikon radish, mince 1/2 head of garlic, peel and mince a 1-inch piece of ginger, chop 3 scallion stalks. Combine in a large bowl with 2 tablespoons fish sauce, 1/4 cup Korean chili powder*, and 1 teaspoon sugar (science note: the sugar “feeds” the friendly microbes, who produce mostly lactic acid). Add napa cabbage, and toss to coat evenly. I recommend wearing disposable latex gloves for this part, lest you find yourself with painfully tingly fingers (that might wander to your eyes, nose, and other sensitive body parts. ahem).

4. Stuff everything inside a 1-quart mason jar, and seal. Leave the jar in a cool, dark part of the kitchen. Wait about 2 days, and check for bubbling inside the jar. This is evidence of fermentation, as certain species of bacteria produce carbon dioxide. If there aren’t any bubbles, give it another day. Once bubbles are present, the kimchi is ready to eat. Store it in the refrigerator, where it will continue to ripen (ferment) slowly.

Now, I said and read that the jar should be checked after 2 days. Wanna know what might happen if you forget and wait ‘til the 3rd day? A loud popping sound, followed by the discovery of a freshly misshapen lid. Once I opened the jar (in the sink of course), there was a mini-eruption of carbonated garlicky juice, followed by loud groans and sighs. Thankfully, there was no significant loss of ready-to-eat kimchi. Enjoy it on its own, or add it to noodles, Korean-style flour and egg pancakes, dumplings, fried rice, or hot dogs (instead of sauerkraut). Ooh, or some kind of Asian-fusion reuben sandwich.

*Can be found at Kalustyan’s on Lexington and 28th Street, or at Korean grocery stores. For example, the one on 33rd Street between 5th and 6th Avenue in Manhattan. Thank you David Cho.