This afternoon I got a wicked bad craving for both broccoli and peanut butter ... maybe an odd combination, but an idea hit me for how to combine the two and off I went to the store to secure some provisions. My idea was this: make up a batch of my dad's spicy peanut sauce (it's what he uses to make his internationally-famous spicy-peanut-noodle or dandan mein) and use it as an excuse to eat some broccoli and noodles for supper.
First, the sauce. It's so easy Makeshift could make it (but that's unlikely because he can't reach any of the ingredients unless he gets help). Three ingredients:
1. Peanut butter (chunky or smooth, it doesn't matter)
2. Soy sauce or tamari (dad uses a very dark mushroom soy that is excellent but
anything will do)
3. Sriracha (yes, you can use any other spicy item of your choosing)
(4.) Hot water—you might as well just put on the water for the noodles now anyway
Mix the ingredients together until a thick paste forms. You can add the hot water at this point and make a smooth bath of silky peanut sauce that's ready to go, but I wait on that final step until I happen to have a surplus of available hot water (when the noodles are cooking). Besides, Badger likes to dip uncooked rice noodles into the paste while I cook, so I leave it in this form for now—truthfully, it dissuades him from drinking the stuff right out of the bowl when I turn my back (I once had to make a second batch of peanut sauce because half of what I had made was gone ... but I am a smart Mushroom, I learn quick).
For the next bunch of steps you'll need:
1. Olive oil
2. A whole red onion (sliced or chopped, depending on mood)
3. Bunch of garlic (volume depends on proximity of marauding Hungarian counts)
4. At least half a block of tofu (totally optional, we just love us some coagulated soy juice)
Saute the red onion (or whatever color onion you happen to have on hand) in some olive oil until it's getting all caramelized and delicious-smelling and the neighbors are casting loving glances toward your Airstream and clearly wondering how they can get invited over for supper. Then throw in the garlic. Tonight I used four large cloves and just roughly chopped them up—I should have used eight cloves and gotten out my mini mandolin, but I didn't feel like getting garlic juice all over the strings, it's some sticky stuff!
Note my lovely F. Dick knife. LOVE. I bought this at Pike Place Market the day we moved into our Seattle apartment a few years ago, and still use it just about daily. The people who work at the shop are very knowledgable—they should be as the place has been there since 1978! Seattle Cutlery. I highly recommend. They also sharpen knives which I do need to get done again ... I digress ...
Once the garlic bits are cooking nicely and the neighbors are scrounging up bottles of wine to bring over, chuck in the tofu (that'll give them pause and might even keep them at bay). Cook it all up and and stir around a bunch on medium heat. Toss cover on. Start working on vegetables.
Next, you'll need:
1. A large unit of broccoli (usually three huge stalks, considering triangulation and all)
2. Another greenery (or not); I had half a unit of kale in the fridge so I threw that in
3. Rice noodles (or again, whatever kind, or don't use noodles at all)
(4.) Pot full of hot or water—that one you started above should be close to boiling by now
(5.) Scallions/green onions (optional but delicious)
One of the reasons I love the Airstream's galley is because of the sink—it's big and deep and stainless steel. Pretty, easy to clean/scrub, and great for washing veggies; what more could a girl ask for? No really, he asks me that. *sigh* So in everything goes.
Wash the kale well and then remove the stems and chop it up, trying to retain as much water on it as possible. Throw atop the onion/garlic/tofu mix and cover it back up—it will start to steam and wilt and turn a gorgeous color. The juices from the kale and the extra water that was still clinging to it will naturally deglaze the pan—loosening up all those caramelized oniony and garlicky bits—and help cook itself.
Now, peel the broccoli. Yup, get our your sharpest vegetable peeler and peel those vitamin-rich green trees. Yes, broccoli stems are excellent. They are tender and delicious and you paid for them, so why not eat them? My favorite peeler of all time is a big, chunky OXO guy that I've had for years and years—it never seems to go dull and I've used it hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of times: carrots, parsnips, daikon, cucumbers (not that they count for much), celery, beets, turnips, and even the occasional rutabaga ...
Then, instead of being all finicky about cutting those guys into perfect bite-size pieces, hack them up from bottom to top, with the final cut through the crowns.
Since you have the water for the noodles coming up to the boil, you might as well put all the broccoli in the pot to parboil it. Parboiling will start the cooking process and the broccoli will cook more evenly this way once it's in the pan with the onions and such.
While the broccoli is enjoying its hot water bath, hoard up all the broccoli scrapings from the sink and put them in your compost. I love my recycled green bucket—it lives in the freezer until it's time to hit the slopes. Clean things up a bit ... always a challenge to keep things clean in such a tiny workspace.
Move the broccoli into the pan with all the rest of the stuff and put some rice noodles into the hot water. Badger is VERY GOOD at testing the noodles—enough so that I always have to add many more to the water than we need for supper. He eats them dry and wet, both.
Now, add a half cup or so of the hot water to what remains of the peanut sauce and mix it into a pourable sauce. Drizzle over broccoli. (Put finger in stream of sauce repeatedly and say "ooops, I slipped"; it works every time—not!) Stir.
Once cooked sufficiently, add rice noodles from pot into pan with everything else. No need to drain, just move them over with a pair of tongs (I HATE washing my colander once it has noodle bits in it—aaargh!). Gently fold it all together.
I love scallions (green onions). Dad always adds them to his spicy peanut dish, and they are the perfect compliment. So I added them here as well, and they were once again a brilliant pair. Again, note the beautiful knife. This one is a decades-old Sabatier that my father gave me. It keeps an edge like no other I own. There are two others in the set and they are equally awesome!
Sprinkle scallions on top of foods. Badger sprinkling ...
Sit. Eat. Be sad that it's all gone. (Well, what was on our plates was gone, the rest—about half of what we made—was packed away for lunches tomorrow.)
Quotation of the evening: Badger had gone to a particularly arduous boxing class earlier today and he had mentioned that his arms were sore. When I was asking him to hold up the cooked noodles so I could take a picture, he said after about 15 seconds—and I am so not joking here—"Now I know why models get paid so much, this is hard work and my arms are about to fall off!"