When matzo meets kimchi pancakes: a love story.
- 1 sheet matzo, crushed into very fine pieces
- 3 tablespoons kimchi juice
- 3 scallions, thinly sliced
- 1 cup chopped drained kimchi
- 3 tablespoons finely chopped onion
- 3 tablespoons potato starch
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
Mix matzo and kimchi juice in a small bowl and let sit 8 minutes. Pour off excess liquid and mix in scallions, kimchi, onion, potato starch, salt, and sugar.
Heat 1 Tbsp. oil in a medium nonstick skillet over medium-high. Add half of batter to skillet and flatten into a thin pancake; cook until golden brown and crisp on both sides, about 4 minutes total. Transfer to a plate. Repeat with another 1 Tbsp. oil and remaining batter.
Nutritional ContentCalories (kcal) 280 Fat (g) 14 Saturated Fat (g) 2 Cholesterol (mg) 0 Carbohydrates (g) 38 Dietary Fiber (g) 4 Total Sugars (g) 6 Protein (g) 4 Sodium (mg) 2370Reviews Section
Matzo-Kimchi Pancakes - Recipes
Today’s post was last night’s dinner.
I had been wanting to try the Garlic, Ginger And Soy Baked Chicken Thigh recipe, which has all my favorite Asian flavors. I also saw this Matzoh Brei recipe variation and couldn’t wait to give it a go. Kimchi with Matzo Brei sounded so cool.
Put both recipes together and you have one eclectic, interesting and truly tasty meal.
I loved how the marinated chicken was so tender and flavorful. It paired well with the gingery Kimchijeon Brei, which is a fusion of recipes for Jewish Matzo Brei and Korean Green Onion Pancakes.
Garlic, Ginger And Soy Baked Chicken Thighs
8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup honey
1/2 Tbs grated ginger
2 green onions, sliced
5 garlic cloves, minced
Crushed red pepper, to taste
Additional sliced green onion, to garnish
1. Whisk together the soy sauce, honey, green onion, garlic, ginger and crushed red pepper.
2. Place the chicken thighs in the marinade, cover and marinate for 2 hours or overnight.
3. When ready to cook, place the chicken in a baking dish and pour the marinade over.
4. Bake at 350°F for 30 minutes.
5. Garnish with chopped green onions and serve.
2 cups cabbage kimchi (I like the Real Pickles brand, which is a whiter version and heavy on the ginger.)
2 bunches green onion
1 teaspoon salt
4 pieces of matzo
4 tablespoons oil
1. Drain the kimchi and reserve the liquid.
2. Chop kimchi into bite-size pieces, and diagonally slice green onions into inch-long ribbons.
3. Beat eggs in a large bowl with salt and 2 tablespoons kimchi liquid.
3. Crumble matzo into into a bowl of water. Let soak about 1 minute. Drain and gently squeeze excess water from matzo.
4. Add matzo, kimchi and green onions to eggs. Mix well.
5. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a sauté pan over medium-high heat. Working in batches, spoon ½ of batter into pan and fry, turning when well browned, about 3 minutes per side.
6. Remove from heat and cook the rest of the batter in the remaining oil.
7. Serve the Kimchijeon Brei with soy sauce.
Serves 4 to 6 as a side dish
I wanted to play some music that offered a fusion of genres.
Well, the first band I came across during my search had such a wacky album cover, album title, song names, lyrics and band member names that I hardly cared what the music sounded like.
“Croissant, Champagne, Marquise & Ménage” is the first album from Blackjackers, just released last month.
Songs titled Chicken Egg, Russian Rat, Snailspotting and Wooden Spoon completely sparked my curiosity.
Turns out that this outfit out of Portugal has some pretty decent, albeit bizarre, grungy garage rock music going on.
I liked Chicken Egg the most. So freakin’ bizarre, but fun, too.
“The egg is scared as hell
You have to throw it really well
Now think about the smell
Think about it really well”
Oh yes, and the band members:
Alpha Pup – Vocals
Nersu el Tigre – Guitar / Back Vocals
Eddie Bugera – Guitar
Kanito – Bass
Big Muff – Drums
Check out Blackjackers on Facebook and Bandcamp, where you can buy their music.
Coffee-rubbed steak (page 14)
From Bon Appétit Magazine, April 2016 Bon Appétit Magazine, April 2016 by Bobby Flay
Are you sure you want to delete this recipe from your Bookshelf. Doing so will remove all the Bookmarks you have created for this recipe.
- Categories: Spice / herb blends & rubs Main course
- Ingredients: ancho chile powder ground coffee dark brown sugar hot Spanish paprika dried oregano ground coriander dry mustard chiles de arbol powder ground ginger New York strip steaks
Traveling & Eating in Israel
Well, I think I’m nearly over my jet lag. Exactly one week ago, I returned from a ten day trip to Israel. A FREE ten day trip to Israel. You see, if you’re Jewish, you’re eligible to go on a paid trip to the motherland – it’s your birthright. These trips started 15 years ago, and so far they’ve taken 500,000 people from 64 countries. Pretty impressive, no? But you have to go between the ages of 18-27, so this summer was pretty much my last chance to go. When I found a culinary themed trip put on by Israel Experts, I knew it’d be the perfect fit.
So let’s get some questions out of the way. Was it a Zionist, pro-Israel trip? Yes. It was led by three (smart, hilarious, kind) Israelis, who clearly have a lot of love and passion for their country. Every trip also does something called a Mifgash, or “encounter” in Hebrew, where they are joined for half of the trip by Israelis their own age. We were joined by 5 soldiers and 2 students. However, we also learned that just because these people love their country doesn’t mean they don’t disagree with decisions made by the government, and feel torn by the conflict in the area. And while we spent most of our time talking about Jewish life in Israel, we also talked a lot about the conflict, visited an Israeli Arab village, and learned about the wars and peace treaties that are very much a part of Israeli history.
Now let’s get on to the part you came here for: the food! Because it was a culinary trip, the focus was equally on history, religion, and food. While we didn’t get to do as much cooking as planned (we were originally supposed to cook for 300 soldiers on an active army base, but it being an active army base, plans change), we definitely learned a lot about the cuisine. Because the country is so young, their food is mostly a melting pot of the cultures that make it up.
Everyone we came into contact with, and even some who simply overheard us talking on the streets of various cities, had an opinion on where to get the best hummus in Israel. We tried tons of it – chunkier, smooth, topped with chickpeas and olive oil, topped with ground meat, topped with mushrooms – and talked about the different styles and varieties. My favorite was at a spot in Jerusalem called Rachmo, just near the Machne Yehuda market. It was smooth and creamy and had the perfect amounts of lemon and tahini, and then it was topped with seasoned ground meat (I’ll guess it was lamb) and all the fat that came with it. We dunked and swirled pieces of pita through this hummus, and I was sad when it was over.
Speaking of pita, I’ve never had such fresh pita in my life. My favorite variation on pita was in Jisr az-Zarqa, an Israeli Arab village on the coast. The village was only opened for tourism in the last year I believe, and some folks recently opened a guesthouse there. They also started an organization where they teach English to high school students. Our tour through the town was led by one of these kids, Mahmood, and he was great. After the tour, we went back to one of the organizer’s house, where we rolled out pita that had already been portioned by his wife. We then topped it with a mixture of za’atar and olive oil, and watched as she popped it into an incredibly hot oven. It came out light and fluffy and still perfectly dense, and the seasoning was perfect, especially when dipped in the labneh and hummus that accompanied the meal.
Other incredible delicious things that happened: A Druze cooking class, where we learned to make Sambusak (kind of like empanadas), stuffed grape leaves, stuffed zucchini, and tabbouleh. And where I first tried schug (or zhoug), which is a spicy condiment! Per the Israeli tradition, by the end of the meal our table was packed with plates.
Burika! This most amazing version of a breakfast sandwich I’ve ever had is kind of hard to describe, but I’m going to try. Wandering through the market in Tel Aviv with my friends was totally worth it, especially when you started to hear the beacon of the cook yelling “Burika! Burika! Burika!” This guy took a very thin piece of pastry dough, kind of like a thin crepe, smeared a spoonful of herbed mashed potato on it, and dropped half into a vat of boiling oil while holding the other half out of the oil, tossed in an egg, and closed it. He let it fry, getting crispy and letting the egg cook before removing it, crunching it up into a pita pocket, topping it with hot sauce (presumably harissa, but I’m not sure), fresh ripe tomatoes, onions, and cabbage, and serving it in a little parchment paper pouch (see photo near the top of the post).
I also discovered Malabi, and am working on getting a recipe that I can share with y’all. There are recipes on the internet, yes, but one of the trip guides said she had a good one, so I’m holding out. Malabi is a custard, a la panna cotta, topped with rose syrup, shredded coconut, and nuts (usually pistachio or peanuts). Some members of my group didn’t like this stuff, but my buddy Russell and I were happy not to have to share with too many others.
Frikaseh: an incredible sandwich I ate in Zfat, recommended by our guide Avigail. Think a middle eastern bahn mi: a fried baguette, stuffed with tuna fish, hard boiled egg, boiled potatoes, preserved lemon, fried eggplant, tomatoes, and cucumbers. Was it funky? Yes. Was each bite different from the one before it? Yes. Was it crunchy and refreshing on a hot day? Oh lord, yes.
A large group of us splurged on our night out in Jerusalem and went to a restaurant called Mona. Because we were a big group, we ended up doing a communal style tasting menu. We drank only Israeli wine (because when in Rome, right?), and ate incredible dishes like squid in curry, beef tartare, spare ribs, and salmon. Plus some exquisite desserts, the details of which I cannot quite remember. Thanks Israeli wine!
Speaking of Israeli wine, we visited two wineries while there (and toured one of them as well), and tasted some delicious wine. The favorite was definitely Barkan Winery. I know grape vines thrive in dry land like Israel, but it will always amaze me to drive through a desert and see as much agriculture as we did – grapes, olives, bananas, citrus, etc. It was really incredible.
Last but certainly not least, I want to talk about the halva. Halva has been a relatively recent discovery for me. I should say, rather, that I knew it existed, but didn’t realize how passionately I felt about it. It turned out that even the pre-packaged industrial halva is good in Israel. But the best stuff looked like a giant cake, with slices of the nutty, creamy, crumbly sweet missing. They would cut you off a giant slab, wrap it in parchment paper, and send you on your merry way. I found it difficult not to each huge amounts of this at once, and my friends are lucky that the two varieties I bought as gifts made it back to Portland safely. Now, to find fresh halva like this here in the northwest.
Overall it was a truly incredible trip. If you’ve ever thought about traveling to Israel, do it. I can’t wait to go back. Be adventurous in your eating. The good stories often hide in a place’s cuisine and recipes.
Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
My sister recently made me aware that my strawberry rhubarb pie recipe – the one that really inspired me to start this blog in the first place – wasn’t on this website. How could that be?! The time is right to tell you the story behind it, seeing as this weekend is Father’s Day and it’s rhubarb season.
Growing up, my father was a produce aficionado. He snacked on radishes like they were popcorn, and his perfect dessert was a bowl of the ripest berries. My dad’s love of fresh ingredients got me excited about food at a young age, and cooking became a pillar in our relationship. It still is – every time we talk we brag about dishes we’ve made, the latest cookbooks we’re itching to buy, and restaurants we’ve tried lately.
When I was in high school, we decided to spend a summer on a quest for the perfect strawberry rhubarb pie. We read probably a hundred recipes, and baked a pie a week. For the crust we experimented with vodka and leaf lard. To perfect the filling we adjusted our rhubarb to strawberry ratios and tried different spices like ground ginger and orange zest. We refined our technique for rolling out the dough, and watched through the oven door as juices bubbled through cracks in the crust. After cooling on the counter for hours, the first bite was always exhilarating. When we finally landed on the recipe, it was obvious as soon as we tasted it – the crust was tender and flaky, the filling was a soft rosy pink dotted with strawberry seeds, and there was a perfect balance between sweet and tart.
Five years later, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. We went through a trying year of chemotherapy and surgery. It was hard to see someone who loves food barely able to eat, much less enjoy eating. I’ll always remember when I was with him while he was getting a blood transfusion, and I went to the vending machine for a snack. I came back with a bag of Wheat Thins. He tried one and said it tasted good, so I gathered up all of my loose change and bought every bag in the vending machine so he could eat them. His recovery took place mostly in the late spring – the beginning of rhubarb season. The day he asked me to make him our strawberry-rhubarb pie, I knew he was back.
These days, I like to think that strawberry-rhubarb pie is my specialty. I’ve found a new dough recipe (the one you see below) that I like even better than the one my dad and I decided on twelve years ago. Making this pie is relaxing, almost therapeutic. Slicing up the fruit, rolling out the dough – all of it is a ritual that I treasure returning to each summer. Not only do I love making this pie, but it’s representative of my relationship with my dad and the things we both value: sharing delicious food with the people we love the most. It will always remind me of him, and the time we spent on the hunt for the perfect pie. Happy Father’s Day, dad. Here’s to many more rhubarb seasons.
Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
Note: As is often the case with pastry type dough, the colder it is and the less you handle it, the better. I like to keep my shortening in the freezer so it is very cold, and the butter in the fridge.
Another Note: This pie is JUICY. It tastes delicious as ever, but I have never made a strawberry rhubarb pie that actually firmed up without tasting too much like flour or corn starch. I’d rather have a juicy pie that packs a punch rather than being muted by various starchy ingredients. The amount of cornstarch you add will be based on how juicy your fruit is – for example, if you bought your strawberries at the farmer’s market in the height of strawberry season, you’ll want to add more, whereas if you bought them at a big box grocery store in December, you won’t need as much.
2 ½ cups flour
1 tsp kosher salt
2 Tbsp granulated sugar
12 Tbps (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, cold, cut into chunks
½ cup vegetable shortening, cold, cut into chunks
3-8 Tbsp ice water
4 cups rhubarb, sliced into ½ inch pieces
3 cups strawberries, stemmed and quartered
1 cup sugar
3-5 Tbl cornstarch
Combine the flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor, pulse to distribute. Add the butter, pulse until evenly combined. Add the vegetable shortening, and do the same, pulsing until evenly combined. Your dough will start to clump together, but you will still have loose flour. Add 3 tablespoons of ice water and pulse. If your dough isn’t coming together quite yet, add more ice water a tablespoon at a time, pulsing after each addition. You want the dough to just start to come together. Dump the dough out onto floured surface and form a ball, cut it in half, and form two discs (roughly 1-1 ½ inch thick). Wrap discs in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days. You can also freeze the dough for later use.
Combine the rhubarb, strawberries, sugar, and cornstarch in a large bowl.
Preheat your oven to 450° F. Lightly grease a 9-inch pie dish with butter and dust with flour. Roll out your pie dough until it’s a circle about 12 inches wide. I like to set the plastic wrap that the dough was wrapped in underneath when I roll it out, as it helps lift it into the pie dish. Transfer your dough to the pie dish and ease it into the corners of the dish. Fill with the strawberry-rhubarb filling. Roll out the second disc of dough, and cover the pie. Trim off excess dough, pinch together the edges, and cut vents in the top of the pie. Place pie on a rimmed baking sheet lined with foil, and then into the oven.
Bake for 10 minutes at 450°F, then reduce heat to 350°F and bake for another 50-70 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown. Allow to cool for at least 3 hours.