Killing You Softly…With My Words…

As a writer, I should already know too well the power of words. Oh my word. Words: they blurt out so quickly from our mouths, they type out so nonchalantly from our fingers. Sometimes they have the miraculous power to heal and uplift a person, but at other times…every single of the same word can be like a silent dagger…killing someone softly.

Murderer.

Jesus Christ said that you don’t have to actually kill someone to be a murderer. The very emotion of hatred within you, or a simple word cursing or insulting someone…that is in itself a murder.

If so…I’ve got some crimson blood stains in my hands. Because the anger and hatred inside of me…and the words I’ve uttered…they have been killing many, many people softly…silently…painfully…

Murderer.

After a few days of not responding to calls, I finally got in a good conversation with my mom yesterday. The last time I’d spoken to her, I’d been screaming my head off, because guess what? She was the messenger to the news that upset me so much about a week ago. And I’d been mad— and bitter— that she would take my friend’s side. I hung up before she could explain more.

I didn’t realize it until yesterday, because I had been so immersed in my own thoughts and selfish emotions, that I had also deeply hurt my parents. Guilt and remorse stabbed me deep in the heart, and I felt even worse because I knew that no matter what I did or said, my parents still loved me, and cared enough for me to call. If it was anybody else, I doubt that they would have done the same, or forgiven me so readily.

Honestly, my words have gotten me into so much trouble ever since I was young. If it isn’t obvious already, I am unable to contain my thoughts and opinions and emotions. I need to say what I want to say, and I need to reveal every single dirty little secret about me. Some of you have commended me for being honest…well, honesty is a pain in the ass sometimes, especially if you don’t know how to control it, and especially if you’ve got a particularly volatile and uh, evil personality.

In a way, I’m so freaking glad I have not spoken to my friend yet, because who knows what I would have done or said to ruin our friendship forever? Words kill. And words can never, ever be taken back. Apologies help, but they can only do so much.

I think I need a permanent tape over my mouth. I also need a restraining device to keep my fingers from typing hurtful things, be it on my cell phone or through email, or g-chat. Anybody know where they sell these things?

Anyway. I was like a piping hot burning coal before, but now that I’m all cooled down…I’ve only now realized how childish, petulant, and ridiculous I was acting. If there’s anything I learned, it’s to never let your emotions speak before you. You’ll make a fool out of yourself, and you’ll burn someone innocent.

I’ve made a resolution to myself: When I’m upset, or angry, or hurt, I will always make God my first priority. I will turn to Him first, because He alone will truly and completely understand me, and He alone will be able to withstand my tantrums, and He alone will give me the wisdom and prudence that I need. Only after I’ve calmed down and listened to Him, will I open my mouth and speak to others.

In honor of the last time I ever become a spicy, hot pepper full of burning words, I present to you a hot and spicy dish. It’s very much like how I was before—hot and red with hatred and anger—but add in a few sweet ingredients in, and top with a runny egg in the middle…and it all balances out.

I know I’ll never become one of those gentle, placid, sweet souls…but with a touch of wisdom, guidance, and prudence from God, all that remains is a complex dish, but very well-rounded so that it doesn’t sting.

Gnocchi-bokki
(a variation of the traditional Korean tteokbokki)

• 2 cups commercial spinach gnocchi, uncooked
• 2 heaping spoonfuls gochujang
• 2 heaping spoonfuls soy sauce
• 1/4 cup kabocha puree (or pumpkin)
• 1 tsp honey (or sugar)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• pinch red pepper flakes
• chicken broth
• 2 links sausages, sliced
• 1/2 cup chopped radicchio (red cabbage)
• 1/2 large zucchini, julienned
• 1 carrot, shaved into strips
• handful raisins
• 2 sheets nori, shredded
• handful sharp cheddar cheese
• 2 poached eggs

Get a pot of salted water to boil. Cook the gnocchi according to package directions.

Meanwhile, mix together the gochujang, soy sauce, kabocha puree, honey, garlic, red pepper flakes, and enough broth to make a nice sauce. You can adjust the amount of broth to your own taste depending on how spicy you want it.

Cook the sausages, radicchio, zucchini, and carrot in the spicy sauce. Bring the liquid up to a boil, the simmer until thickened. Stir in the cooked gnocchi, raisins, and nori.

Dish up the gnocchi-bokki into 2 servings, and sprinkle with cheddar cheese. Top with a poached egg each, and you’re ready to dig in!
As I was assembling this dish, I was muttering, “God, this looks like cat puke.” But Mimi was gushing, “It looks gorgeous!” Hm. I guess it all depends on how you look at it. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder! But that’s for another moral story .
But I have to say: this was freaking awesome. Great kick of spice, but harmonized with the gentle sweetness of the kabocha, honey, and raisins.
And that yolk, oh that yolk! Oozing out and mixing with the red-hot sauce and nori, it totally mellowed the whole dish out with a perfect umami factor! Ooh la la~
This dish was definitely inspired by my favorite Korean dish, tteokbokki. The sauce is similar (except I added kabocha), the hard-boiled egg I replaced with a poached egg, and I also added the raisins, nori, and zucchini as bonus ingredients.
The gnocchi wasn’t bad, but, eh. Commercial gnocchi just doesn’t measure up.
And yeah, I lied. These are not sausages. They are HOT DOGS! Please don’t give me crap about them. I love these overly-processed, unnaturally-pink fat wieners! Mimi calls them…something else…something dirty, which I will not mention on this blog for the sake of my appetite.
My plate:
 Mimi’s plate:
BURP!
Gosh, I hate my hair. Can’t wait till it grows out!

Okay, that was random. I should apply the “Don’t say anything if you don’t have anything nice to say” rule to myself.

Question of the day: Are you a MURDERER?

Just kidding, tee hee hee! But seriously: do you need a human mouth-tape like I do? How do you keep yourself from speaking rashly and saying hurtful words?

Open for Discussion: Is Total Recovery Possible?

In response to my post about my ED past, Alison from Live, Listen, Cook asked this question:

“Here’s a question for you…do you think you’ll ever completely eradicate ED? I think it will always be there for me— or at least my relationship with food is forever changed, even if I eat healthfully. This changed relationship with food is not all bad, but I do hate that the monster in my head never goes away completely. What do you think?”

It’s been 2 weeks since she had asked, and I’ve been meaning to answer this comment earlier, but did not get a chance until now. I’m so sorry, Alison! But I wanted to post this question up for discussion, as I think many of us ED-recovers wonder the same thing.

Is true, total recovery possible? How do you know whether you’re completely recovered?

I cannot say for others (that is why I need your input), but I will speak from my own thoughts and experience: I most absolutely believe that complete recovery is possible. But the word “recovery” is ambiguous. What does it mean? How can you tell?

To be honest, I don’t think I’ll have the same exact relationship with food as I had before. I now know too much about nutrition, and that information will never be eliminated from my brain. Bring out a handful of grains, or a spoonful of oil, and I can automatically tell you exactly how many calories are in it.

Also, my taste buds have changed. I used to avoid vegetables and vegetables like the plague, but now I love and crave them. I don’t like meat as much as I did, nor do I want to eat 2 Super-sized McDonald’s french fries every single afternoon like I used to.

But recovery doesn’t mean that I need to revert back to the way I was before. It just means that food no longer controls me. I don’t obsess about food as much, I no longer fear any certain food, I don’t avoid social eating, I don’t obsessively count calories, I don’t freak out over a missed work out, I don’t have a rigid eating schedule, and I don’t always have to eat “healthy”.

Alison also mentioned the “monster in the head”…that terrible voice that likes to call you names. Fat. Weak. Lazy. Loser. It likes to mock you, and tempt you:

“Why did you eat so much, you fat greedy pig?”
“Hey, you missed your run this morning. Why not restrict today?”
“Bah, so much stress! You’re losing control! But at least you can control your food intake!” 
“Whoa, check out your Thunder thighs! Your underpants will burst into flames from the friction between them!”

Well, here’s the bad news: this voice might always be there. Why? Because it’s habitual. I’m in such a habit of living in such negative thoughts, that sometimes I just instinctively think them. I might eat more than usual, and immediately think, “Sophia, you fatso.” Or I might feel bloated, and panic, “Am I gaining all the fat on my stomach?”

But here’s the good news: Recovery means that you might hear these voices, but you don’t act on them. And as time goes on, the voice will fade away until it’s just a distant memory. Just as it took time to get into the habit of thinking such thoughts, it will take a bit of time to get out of them. But as long as you continuously and consistently ignore them, they will go away.

Therefore, I have hope. In fact, there are a lot of times when I would think back to all the crazy-ass, disordered stuff I used to do: only eating protein and vegetables, throwing away egg yolks, browsing grocery stores all day, buying fat-free cheese and low-carb bread, writing out all my calorie-intake of the day, even hiding food in my socks (WTF?)…and I would just be absolutely flabbergasted and disgusted at myself, exclaiming, “I did WHAT? What the hell? I can’t believe I used to do that!”

But I feel the need to emphasize on one thing: In order to gain full recovery, you have to let go of everything that is disordered. You can’t pick-and-choose; it’s all or nothing. You all are smart enough to know what is disordered or not without me laying out the details. Your conscience will speak to you.

I hope that answers your question, Alison. Thank you for such a thought-provoking comment. And I’d like to open this topic up for discussion, so anyone who has any thoughts on this, please speak up!

So, I’ve mentioned above that my taste buds have changed since my eating disorder, but two things that haven’t: My distaste for rice, and my passion for kabocha. My love for kabocha is self-explanatory, but let me explain why I hate rice: I just don’t get how anyone can like that plain, fluffy, texture-less grain! That doesn’t mean I dislike all grains though. As long as they have an interesting texture to them, I love. 

In fact, smart, lovely Christina sent me a bag of Trader Joe’s Greenwheat freekeh for my birthday. I’m totally in love with this grain now! I’ve made a couple of dishes with them already, but here’s the first one I made with Mimi:

Cheesy-Kabocha Chicken with Raisins and Walnuts Over Grains
(I know, it’s a freaking mouthful. I’m so bad with names! Help me!)

For the Cheesy-Kabocha Sauce:

• oil
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 onion, diced finely
• 1/2 cup kabocha puree (or, reluctantly, pumpkin)
• 1 cup milk
• 1/2 cup sharp cheddar cheese
• 1/4 cup cottage cheese
• salt and pepper
• pinch of turmeric

For the Chicken:

• oil
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 1/4 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 boneless, skinless chicken breast
• 1/3 cup raisins

For the Grains:

• 1/2 cup bulgur, dry
• water
• salt and pepper
• pinch of cumin and cinnamon
• 1 cup Trader Joe’s Greenwheat Freekeh

For the toppings:

• handful salad greens
• 3 basil leaves, shredded
• 1/3 cup walnuts, chopped
• 1/2 cup feta cheese, crumbled (or blue cheese)

For the sauce, first cook the garlic and onion in the oil until soft and fragrant. Then stir in the kabocha and pour in the milk. As the liquid starts to thicken, add in both cheeses and season to taste. Stir, then turn down the heat and leave aside.

Next for the chicken, stir-fry garlic, onions, and bell pepper until cooked, then add in the chicken and cook until done. Pour in the cheesy-kabocha sauce and mix together. Add in the raisins.

Meanwhile, cook the bulghur in water, and season with the seasonings and spices. Once the bulghur is cooked, stir in the Freekeh.

To dish, set a handful of salad greens, then scrape the grains on top. Ladle on the cheesy-kabocha chicken mixture, and top with the basil leaves, walnuts, and feta cheese. Crack extra black pepper on top if you like. This serves two hungry girls!

Aii yai yai! This was a beautiful dish. I think Mimi and I just stepped aside to gaze at it in wonder for awhile.
 

And then we dug in!
I can’t tell you how amazing this dish was. It was absolutely…well, amazing! Ah, words fails me!
And that freekeh stuff is absolutely delightful:
So incredibly chewy with its separate, chewy grains, and together with the gritty, crunchy bulghur, the texture was a sensation in my mouth! Thank you, Christina!
And come on. Cheesy, creamy, kabocha chicken? Enough said. Absolutely freakalicious!
It’s funny how now I sneak in greens in there more for a contrast of color rather than nutrition. Ah, to be a food blogger!
Somehow, this dish ended up scoring 100 points in nutrition (if I say so myself):

• Omega-3 fats from the walnuts
• the vitamin B and fiber from the grains
• the protein and iron from the chicken
• the various vitamins and minerals from the vegetables and kabocha
• garlic and onions for immunity
• calcium from the 3 different cheeses
• some antioxidants from the raisins…

Man. I didn’t even notice what a nutritional powerhouse this dish was until now! See, here’s another thing about recovery I learned: I no longer obsess about nutrition, but instead focus on taste and texture when it comes to creating my dishes. And somehow, it still ends up being super nutritious!

Okay, gotta have dinner now. This girl is HANGRY! Oh, here’s another thing I earned from recovery: Being able to feel and honor my hunger! It’s so damn nice to feel hunger and cravings again!

Question of the day: I’ve answered Alison’s question, but I’m sure I missed something. I’m opening it up for discussion, so any input is appreciated!

But for those of you who aren’t ED-recoverers, I have an equally important question to ask: Rice. Like or hate?

Celebration

Guess what? I was in tears today again for my 22nd birthday. But it wasn’t tears of sorrow or despair or self-pity. It was tears of joy and thanksgiving.

My parents had sent me a birthday package (ooh I wonder what it is?) but it wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow or Friday, so my dad sent me a copy of his birthday letter to me by email:

It is in Korean, and it’s like 3 pages long, so I won’t translate it all, but here’s a quick summary:

My dad told me that he spent the whole day flipping through my old photographs. He detailed each one for me, progressing through the course of my life: the day I was born and sat on the palm of my dad’s hand, the day I turned one and dressed in traditional Korean clothing, the day I got a new brother and cried for the lack of attention, the first day I went to pre-school without a moment’s nervousness…all leading up to even those few pictures of me emaciated and ill.

All throughout the course of my life, He drew a clear picture for me on how God was present in me, leading and guiding me every step of the way. And then he mentioned all the people who have cared for me, who have prayed for me, who have loved and blessed me, and how God answered their prayers by restoring my spiritual, mental and physical health…

I couldn’t help it. Each time I read a new paragraph, fresh tears flowed as my heart was gripped with a complex mix of overwhelming emotions: love, appreciation, gratefulness, even pain.

You know…every birthday, I had always expected something out of other people. Whether it is for them to remember my birthday, or say “Happy birthday” to me, or give me presents, etc, I’d always met my birthday with the idea that I should be the one who is celebrated.

Well, from this birthday onwards, I am switching it around. I’m not celebrating myself, but I’m celebrating all the people who has played a part in my life. Because without them, I would not be the person I am now.

So thank you, God, for your everlasting grace and mercy.

Thank you, mom and dad, for never giving up on me and loving me despite all the pain I’ve given you.

Thank you, my brother, for enduring all the family dramas, and treating me so gently and patiently.

Thank you, my church, for always praying for me and supporting me.

Thank you, my friends, for sticking by me and comforting me.

Thank you, my fellow bloggers (and readers), for listening to me and giving me constant motivation and encouragement.

And finally, thank you, my body, my soul, my life, for not failing on me, even though I never treated you well.

And of course, I’ve got to celebrate food. After all, I’ve been abusing it for many years. It’s time I started treating it right—eating it, enjoying it, digesting it, and using the energy to live out the best life I can.

I contemplating having noodles for my birthday, but I decided that I better stick to my trademark favorite ingredients. Can you guess what they are?

If you said kabocha, check. Cheese? Check. And gochujang to highlight my mother country? Check. The only thing missing is a runny egg, but three is a crowd already.

Korean BBQ-Style Stuffed Kabocha

• 1 small kabocha (mine was about 3 lbs?)
• 4 oz ground turkey
• 1/2 cup diced bell peppers
• 1/2 cup diced zucchini
• Korean BBQ Marinade (recipe below)
• 1 tsp olive oil
• 1/2 small red onion
• feta cheese
• Parmesan cheese

Korean BBQ Marinade:

• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tsp ginger, minced
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon gochujang
• 1 tsp red pepper flakes (optional)
• 1 tsp sesame oil
• 1 tablespoon honey
• black pepper

Cut the kabocha in half, and scoop out the insides:
Next make the Korean BBQ marinade by mixing all the ingredients together in a bowl. Mix in the turkey, bell peppers, and zucchini:
Set aside, and let it marinade for about an hour in the fridge.

Then heat up some oil in a skillet, and start cooking the onions:
Once the onions get kind of soft, toss in the turkey-vegetables mixture, pouring in all the marinade as well:
Cook until done:
Stuff it into the kabocha on top of a baking sheet:
Bake at about 425 degrees for about 20 minutes, and then top with feta and Parmesan cheese, and bake for 10 more minutes until cheese is melted and the kabocha is cooked through.
Oh my gosh. I can’t believe this is the first time I tried stuffing a kabocha. I’ve been seeing these around in a lot of blogs, such as The Broccoli Hut, and am I super-glad I tried it out! But of course I had to put my unique spin by going Korean-style!
The marinade is amaaaaaazing. Have you guys ever tried the spicy Korean pork BBQ called duaejikogi? I used the same marinade recipe for this.
Spicy, with a touch of sweetness, and inteeeeense! Totally freaking flavorful.
I didn’t cook the vegetables too much, so that they don’t get mushy, but retains a bit of a crunch.
Do you eat the skin? Nothing was left when I was done with this.
By the way, nobody except Mimi and Kathryn knows about my birthday. I find it kind of awkward to go around boasting about my 22nd birthday to my 18-year-old friends, heh heh.

But one of my friends somehow found out and sent me this beautiful flowers:
And I got a new USC mug!
I USC indeed!

Thank you for all your emails, tweets, and facebook messages wishing me a good birthday. Today was definitely the most amazing birthday I had…because for once, I’m not celebrating myself, but others. And you know what? I am freaking blessed, because I am surrounded by beautiful, amazing people. Now that, is the best birthday present I can ever want!

P.S. To commemorate a new beginning of a new 22nd year, I’ve updated my About Me Page…Please check it out! >.<

Question of the Day: What was the best birthday gift you’ve received? Doesn’t need to be something physical. Oh, and when is your birthday? You don’t need to share the age though!

I’m Not Cheap-Quality

I really don’t know what I was expecting. Did I seriously expect to maintain my straight-A status here in USC? After three to four years of academic break? After years of thinking and doing nothing but being obsessed with food and disordered thoughts? Did I really think I would just gracefully leap right onto the academic wagon and have a smooth ride?

My writing professor once asked us to write down what grade we expected from his class. I half-jokingly, half-seriously wrote: “Nothing short of an A. I’m greedy!”

A week later, I got my first C+ from that class. I’ll bet my professor was laughing behind my back. Actually, I’m pretty sure he had a smirk on his face when he handed me the paper.  

I warned my parents about expecting a low grade from me this semester. They replied, “It’s okay, Sophia! A 3.5 GPA isn’t that bad.”

Um. More like, 2.5?!

Not that they’ll still care. My parents don’t give a hoot about my grades, as long as I’m happy and healthy. Well, they might not, but I do. I really, really do care about my grades.

Which leads me to ask myself—Why? Why do I care so much about a stupid number? Perhaps that is just a similar question to the one I asked when I was trying to recover from my eating disorder but couldn’t. Why? Why did I care so much about numbers— calories, weight, etc?

And I have concluded that the answer to both those questions is the same: Because that’s the way I define myself. Because that’s the way I define the quality of my life. I want something concrete, and numbers are reliable and literal. They’re not abstract forms, but rigid figures, which gives me assurance and proof that “I am doing well” or even the deluded sense that “I am happy.”

To hell with that! I’m more than a stupid number. I’m a living, breathing life with real, unique background, personal story, circumstances, and experiences. I am a special creation of God, and I’m surrounded and connected with other beautiful creations of God. 

I won’t be able to bring my bodily flesh, or my GPA, or my money with me when I die. What the heck—beauty and grades are going to be last thing on my mind when I’m on my deathbed!

I want to live a quality life, and not stress myself out in order to create one. I want to enjoy my life, not spending the majority of my life dreaming of enjoying one. I’m so caught up with physical satisfaction that I forget what is truly real and what is truly mine: my soul, my being.

Life…is like a grilled cheese sandwich. It may be simple, it may be plain, it may be modest. But made with good quality ingredients, it sure ain’t cheap crap— instead, it’s just wholesome, genuine, sincere comfort food. And you know what? None of us is made with inferior quality. Hello? We’re creations of the Almighty God!

Haha, you know where I’m going with this, right? Yup, I’ve been having a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches lately. But why not? They taste awesome, you can have fun making different variations of them, and they are fast and easy to make!

Here’s one:
 Parmesan, cheddar, and herbed feta cheese with pastrami, tomatoes, pickles, dijon mustard and honey on Nature’s Pride 12-Grain bread.
I made this 4 times, one with apples instead of tomato. It is that good.

Another one:
 Parmesan, cheddar, and herbed feta cheese with pastrami and fried egg on Dave’s Killer PowerSeed bread.
My GF “bled” some yolk while grilling this up, but you can be sure I caught every drop with a plate and mopped it up with the bread!
Yet another one:
 Parmesan, cheddar, and herbed feta cheese with kabocha, tomatoes, balsamic vinegar, and dijon mustard on Dave’s Killer PowerSeed bread.
 Super yum!

By the way, I’m convinced Dave’s Killer bread is the best thing since sliced bread. I’ve had them for awhile, but didn’t get the chance to feature them on my blog because I’ve just been nibbling on them plain, or with nothing but avocadoes, cream cheese, and a sprinkle of salt. It’s so good that I didn’t want to mask it with any other dominating ingredients!

Dave was kind enough to send me some samples:
Again, note: this was a long time ago. I only have a couple slices left, and I am so, so, so devastated.

This was the bread I used for my grilled sandwich:
It’s dense, and chock full of protein-rich seeds!
The Good Seed is already gone in my tummy:
So is the Cracked Wheat:
 
But the Sin Dawg made the fastest disappearing act:
Ingredients: Organic Whole Wheat Flour, Organic Raisins, Water, Organic Evaporated Cane Juice, Organic Canola Oil, Organic Sunflower Seeds, Organic Rolled Oats, Organic Molasses, Organic Vital Wheat Gluten, Organic Ground Flax Seeds, Organic Cinnamon, Organic Whole Sesame Seeds, Yeast, Salt, Organic Pumpkin Seeds, Organic Cashews, Vanilla, Organic Brown Rice Extract.
Seriously. The best freaking thing on earth. I finished it within the day. It is so chewy, and sticky, almost like a cinnamon roll but without the cloying sweetness, and with a whole lot more substance and chew from the plentiful raisins, nuts, and seeds.

I totally love Dave’s motto: “Say no to bread on drugs!” LOL!! I’ve never met this guy, but I love him already. In my opinion, if you bake good bread, there is no way you can’t be cool!
Dave, you’re my man!

Okey dokey. Time to check my email. My study partners were supposed to send me their part of the work, but guess who slacked off and the exam is tomorrow? I think I’m just gonna study solo next time. >:-(

Question of the day: Life is like a… Fill in the blank please? “Box of Chocolates” and “grilled cheese sandwich” are taken!

P.S. Notice my repeated use of those three cheeses? My only cheese left! Can’t wait for Biz’s giveaway to arrive soon!

The Real Natural Diet

“You’ve gotta eat your vegetables.”

Everybody has heard and known this since they were a toddler. For those of us who were lucky enough to have parents who cared, we’ve had broccoli and spinach and peas stuffed down our throat since young. Our parents deviously slipped carrots guised under some cheesy sauce, or cunningly cut up onions especially fine so that we won’t be able to pick them out.

This is why it may seem so strange to you that for the last three or so years, I’ve been hearing the complete opposite: “You’ve gotta eat your dessert and junk food.”

Because, you see, refusing to indulge in a while is a health problem, too. So is insisting on eating only “organic, whole foods” and nothing else. They’re both a mental health problem.

Now don’t go and smugly tell me you never have cravings. That you never want something sinful and sweet, or that you never occasionally dream of sinking your teeth into a nice, greasy piece of fried chicken or french fry. Because we all know that it’s total and complete bullshit.

I’d never been overly concerned about healthy eating, even during my worst eating disordered years. During my depths of starvation, all I cared about was the calories, and I practically subsisted on nibbles of carrot sticks, chocolate, cookies, muffins, and black coffee. Because I was severely deficit in calories, all I craved was sugar and caffeine.

Once I decided to “recover”, however, I sunk into yet another disorder: the obsession to eat healthy. Sounds virtuous, doesn’t it? Don’t let that deceive you.

At that time I claimed that I was trying to take care of myself now, that I was willing to “recover”, therefore I needed all the nutrition I can get— Bull-freakin-shit. That was just an excuse to be able to restrict, to be able to hold on to that form of control I was afraid to let go.

What am I saying here? I’m not trying to force McNuggets down everybody’s throat and advertise a reform for fast food and frozen entrees— this is our body and we have the responsibility to take care of it— but we need to give our bodies more credit.

I believe our bodies are wonderful, miraculous creations intricately woven by the hands of God, and that they can take care of themselves better than our own minds. The problem is when we try to control and analyze every milligram of vitamins, every ounce of fat, protein, fiber, etc. that enters our mouth, as if our bodies can be supervised and monitored like machines.

Let’s take protein, for example. I think I might have lacked in the protein department a bit because the last few days, I’ve been craving a good, meaty burger. And guess what? I listened to my body and got myself a burger:
Okay, I’ll admit: in true Sophia-fashion, I went totally overboard and ate 3 Carl’s Jr burgers and 3 Burger King Whoppers over the last 5 days. I was feeling icky by the 4th burger, but I still forced myself to eat it because I didn’t want to waste money. I’m all burgered-out now.

But! That also proves yet another thing: if you listen to your body, you won’t ever go overboard. I remember I used to be worried that once I let a bite of “junk food” touch my lips, then I’ll “lose it” and start craving nothing but junk food. Well, that is simply not true. After I satisfied my burger craving, all I felt was satisfaction. And I could live without burgers for a while now.

Another craving I strangely had today: Fried stuff. So I picked some criss-cut fries from Carl’s Jr:
Greasy. Crunchy. Hot. Salty. It was heaven.
Do I want to eat deep-fried stuff again now? Not really. I’ve satisfied my craving, and I probably won’t be wanting any fried stuff until my next craving.

Next up: sugar. I already mentioned before that I don’t really have a sweet tooth. But I noticed that on days when I’m really needing an extra boost of energy, I get my sweet tooth back:
I’ve long since finished this packet of Newman Own’s Organics Ginger-O’s, but you see my point (It’s awesome by the way, much better than chocolate Oreos).

Or I might suck on one or two of these Korean milk caramels:
My point is, there is no food on this Earth that is bad for you. Every food, even the “junk food” that we try to avoid, is nourishment and sustenance for our bodies and our minds. It only becomes truly bad when we abuse them.

Every food is allowed and every food is necessary, but in natural moderation. Notice I added the word “natural”, because that’s the kind of diet I want to have— the diet that is not ruled by numbers and data, but guided by the amazing, natural body that God gave me.

That being said, let me show you a dish that I think has a pretty good balance in both nutrition and indulgence. Again, I hate numbers, but I’ll say leaving about 20% for a bit of leeway won’t do you no harm in the least.

Kabocha-Grits with Sautéed Vegetables, Grilled Hotdog, and Soft-Boiled Egg

Kabocha Grits:

• olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 small onion, diced
• 1/3 cup dry corn grits
• chicken broth
• 1/4 cup kabocha puree
• 1/4 cup cottage cheese
• 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese
• salt and pepper

Sauteed Vegetables:

• olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 small onion, diced
• 1/2 zucchini, chopped
• 2-3 shitake mushrooms, chopped
• squeeze lime juice
• drizzle balsamic vinegar

Additional Ingredients:

• 1 link hotdog
• 1 large egg
• feta cheese, crumbled
• black pepper

For the grits, cook garlic and onion in olive oil until soft. Stir in the grits, and pour in chicken broth. Bring to a boil, and let simmer, stirring constantly. Stir in kabocha, and cook until thick. Add more liquid if necessary. Remove from heat, stir in cottage cheese and Parmesan. Season with salt and pepper.

For the vegetables, just sautee all the vegetables together in a pan. Drizzle in vinegar and squeeze in lime juice to taste. Don’t go overboard!

Meanwhile, split and grill the hotdog in your trusty George Foreman. Soft-boil an egg (about 4-5 minutes). Peel the skin.

Once everything is done, ladle the grits onto a dish, toss the vegetables over. Place the egg and hotdog on top. Sprinkle with feta cheese, and grate fresh ground pepper over.
Hee hee hee, I know some of you are gonna groan and moan about that vulgar hotdog tainting the whole dish, but I like hotdogs! They are a cheap source of protein, and how can you not like these pink processed mystery meat?
But honestly, hotdogs taste so much better grilled like this. I love Mr. GF! I took a bite off the end before plating it, though. This was one huge fat hotdog. Compare it to the “large” egg!
And I really, really don’t get people who leave out the yolks to be “healthy”. The yolk is actually the most nutritious part! And that myth about eggs causing high cholesterol? It was proven wrong!! Just goes about to say how much you can trust these scientists…
And another more important reason why you should eat the whole egg: It’s freaking yummy!
  How about that? I didn’t even plan out the nutritional facts of this dish, and it turned out pretty well-balanced, in my opinion.
I hope I didn’t offend anyone with this post. I apologize if I have come a bit too strong, but I felt it necessary to point out that disordered eating and obsessive behaviors can come in all forms, even under the thin guise of healthy eating.

Again, I’m not implying that you should toss your Greek yogurt and forget about buying organic— if you can afford it, that’s great— but you shouldn’t let that control you in any way. Ultimately, food is just food—sustenance to help you enjoy your life. It would be just too sad and ironical if food was what robbed you from real peace and joy in life.

Question of the day: What are you craving right now? Be it donuts or celery sticks, just say the truth!

I’m a Shameless Cheese-Whore

Having been brought up in an Asian culture, one thing that really impressed me when I moved to America is how shameless the people here are— and I mean that in the highest form of compliment.

Self-confidence and self-promotion is kind of frowned upon in Asian society. Instead, silence about one’s achievement and even self-deprecation is encouraged so as to display an appearance of modesty and humility.

If someone compliments you, don’t say “Thank you”. That’s rude and arrogant! No, you’ve got to first reject the praise, saying, “No, no, I’m not…” and then go on to downplay whatever compliment you received by saying something like, “I’m actually not that smart/pretty, blah blah blah…”

On the other hand, if someone criticizes you, you are discouraged from defending yourself, especially if that person is older than you. No, you’ve got to bear it with silence and dignity. But often times, those who just endures it ends up holding a nasty grudge that eventually poisons the relationship.

Imagine my surprise when I first came to America. I thought I was surrounded by a bunch of swollen-headed, disrespectful kids! I was shocked when the majority of the kids in class raised their hands when a teacher asked a question. That never happened in Singapore! Or when most kids seemed to have no problem stating that they are good in something, or the fact that nobody stuttered when speaking in public; in fact most seemed to relish the attention. Or when these kids faced critiques, they actually spoke up for themselves!

And you know what? I absolutely loved it. I loved the air of confidence, and the way everybody spoke out in class, even if some basically spoke a gabble of bullshit just so she/he could be heard. Until now, I’ve never really met anybody here who is truly “shy” the way some people are in Asia.

I have to admit, I still instinctively downplay any compliments given to me. But I’ve become less shy and self-depreciative over the years. I love to raise my hand in classes, and I don’t mind showing off my talents, or speaking about my achievements.

I think to a certain degree, being shameless is a good thing. It just means you are thankful for who you are and what you have, and it’s always nice to share that with others.

And now, I’m going to be completely shameless by bragging about this freaking awesome dish I made with Mimi, and by basically begging to win a giveaway. Because when it comes down to cheese, I have no face!!

You see, one of the Dynamic Duo sister bloggers, Biz from Biggest Diabetic Loser, is having a fantastic giveaway…a whole $60 dollar gift basket to Cabot Cheese!!! The rules to enter is simple: Come up with a recipe using cheese.

Biz suggests using Cabot Cheese, but unfortunately, I’m dreadfully 1) poor (remember my measly bank account?) and 2) I’m frightfully, dreadfully low in cheese supply: I only have three kinds left! Which is another reason why I need to win this giveaway.

So without further ado, let me introduce my mind-blowingly, blazenly brilliant cheesy recipe…(see how shamelessly self-advertising I am?)

Kabocha Mac & Cheese with Bacon and Zucchini

• 2 cups dry pasta
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 large onion, diced
• 4 strips bacon, diced
• 1 small zucchini, chopped
• 1/2 cup kabocha puree
• 1/2 cup cottage cheese
• about 1/3 cup milk
• cheese packet from Annie’s Mac & Cheese
• 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
• 1/3 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
• handful of feta cheese
• cracked black pepper

Bring a big pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta according to box directions.

Meanwhile, cook together garlic and onion, and add in the bacon, and stir until cooked, then stir in the zucchini and cook about 2-3 minutes more until zucchini is cooked but not mushy. Grate in some black pepper.

In another bowl, whisk together the kabocha, cottage cheese, milk, cheese packet, and cheddar cheese. When the pasta is cooked al dente, drain, and immediately mix into the cheese mixture. Stir in the cooked vegetables.

Pile everything out into a casserole dish. Sprinkle with mozzarella cheese and feta cheese, grate black pepper on top, and pop into a 400 degree oven.

Cook for about 20 minutes until cheese is nice and melted.

Ta-da!! I should have cooked it a bit more to get that toasted cheesy top, but the fragrance from the oven was driving me crrraazy!!

By the way, I had to borrow the cheese packet from Annie’s:
Why? Because I didn’t have enough cheese. You reading, Biz?
Anyway. Obviously, casseroles aren’t pretty. But let me tell you, this was one explosion of flavors in my mouth!!
Even Mimi, who hasn’t deigned to let a bite of Mac & Cheese touch her lips in forever, loved it! (It’s true! Ask her!)
By the way, bacon, kabocha, and zucchini goes PERFECT together. What a fantastic combo! What a genius I am! (Again, in with the shameless self-promoting)
And of course, cheese will go with anything and everything. I would eat my own liver if it was smothered in good cheese.
So. I gobbled up half like a barbarian. Mimi nibbled up almost 1/3 like a dainty Southern belle. And we generously left the teensy bit left for my roommate: 
There. I’ve gone all out and shamelessly done whatever I could to underscore the point that I must win this giveaway. And I’ve shamelessly established myself as a cheese-whore. But maybe that isn’t really news…?

But of course, part of being a good shameless person is also being thick-skinned, so I won’t be too…uh…devastated if I don’t win. May the best cheese-whore win! (Pick me! Pick me!)

Question of the day: So, I’m a shameless Cheese-Whore. What are you shameless about?

P.S. No blogger meet-up yesterday…The blogger I was supposed to meet got stuck in the road because her car broke down! T__T;;;

P.P.S. I’ve got a mid-term tomorrow. WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING writing about cheese?! Somebody smack me!

It’s Worth the Grill

Turns out life doesn’t just hand you bad peaches. It hands you bad figs, too. Horribly expensive and horribly bad-tasting figs. Seems like my fruit-picking skills are failing me.

Figs are one of my favorite fruits. It’s just so juicy and luscious and chewy and…figgy. But the bag of lovely-looking figs I brought home was a total dud. Dry, tasteless, spongy. I thought I was munching on a dish sponge. I spit it out, cursed the damn fig, but couldn’t bear to throw it away. Why? Just for its beauty.
Just look at it. Damn this fat pouch of sweetness. Stop being so pretty! (The picture above is not mine, by the way)

Anyway. Point is, my bag of figs deserved to be tossed out, but I ended up keeping it deep in my fridge. Because it was pretty. Because I had great expectations for it, and I paid big bucks for it. The deceiving little conniving fruity fatales.

Today’s second meeting with my editor to edit my article for the Daily Trojan reminded me of this bag of figs.

I have had high expectations for journalism. It seemed so glamorous, so exciting, so thrilling. I once saw a journalist interviewing someone in the streets and I had to refrain myself to skipping over and fawning over him. I wanted to find out what shoes he was wearing, what notebook he was using, and what pen he liked to use for interviews. I wanted to gush about how cool his job was, how much I want to be like him, blah blah blah.

Yes, I would rather meet with a good journalist than— say, a star like Edward Cullen (darn, did I get his name right?).

But now…I’ve realized that as exciting as journalism seems to be, behind-the-scenes, the majority of my time seems to be sitting next to my laptop and cellphone, obsessively checking on emails and waiting for phone calls that are 4 hours late. Oh, dear.

Journalism is hard work. I have to have skin as thick as a rhinoceros, I have to be constantly up-to-date, I have to dig out “juicy” angles, I have to be hip and knowledgeable and aggressive and creative. All those stereotypes on annoying, obnoxious journalists? It’s true. Because I am being taught to be like that. And all I am is a little news writer for my college newspaper!

Glamorous journalism? It’s a facade, like that bag of deceivingly-pretty figs. In fact, I doubt there is any job/career in the world that is as glamorous as it seems to be. Behind the glamour are buckets of tears and perspiration.

Which brings me to this key question: Is journalism worth all that hard work?

Well, this is my answer: Am I going to stop buying figs because of this one bad buy? Hell NO! Am I going to quit my dream just because some hard work is involved? No freaking way!

In fact, this just brings in my topic for my previous post: When life hands you a bad peach fig, GRILL it!

Grilled Fig Pizza

• 3 fresh figs
• 1 whole wheat pita
• 1/3 cup cottage cheese
• 1/4 cup kabocha (or pumpkin) puree
• salt and pepper
• cinnamon
• 2 strips bacon, chopped
• 1/4 red onion, diced
• small bunch of spinach, torn
• 1/4 cup crumbled goat cheese
• spoonful Parmesan cheese
• drizzle honey (or maple syrup)
• drizzle balsamic vinegar

Set out your dearest friend Mr. GF and grill the figs.

Meanwhile, mix the cottage cheese, kabocha, cinnamon, salt and pepper together, and spread it on top of the pita. Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees.

Fry up the bacon and the onions until cooked and fragrant. Nibble on a piece of bacon to make sure it’s crispy and delicious. Scatter the bacon and onion over the pita. Top with the grilled figs and both cheeses.

Bake in oven for about 10 minutes until the pita is nice and crisp, and the cheese is melted and you can’t stand the amazing tantalizing aroma anymore.

Take the thing out, drizzle with honey and balsamic vinegar. DIG IN!
Holy Fig! If a bad, spongy fig produces such a result each time, I wouldn’t mind it! Every penny that I paid for these turned out well worth it!
Ack! It just is absolutely gorgeous with all the colors!
But the taste is even more beautiful. Oh my GOD! The base of the cottage cheese and kabocha was perfect with the grilled figs and the acidic balsamic vinegar and the intense sweetness of the honey…
Damn fig. Grilled with a permanent black mark. Serves you right. But soooo good in my tummy!
Oh my God. Do you see that little oozing honey? Sweet nectar of the gods!
And pita sure makes for a lovely, thin and cripsy base!

Okay, I’m babbling. I don’t even know what the heck I’m saying, but seriously, this was one big ecstasy in my mouth, so no wonder I’m losing coherent and rational thought.

But I haven’t forgotten to say this: Whatever path you chose, you’ve got to undergo some intense grilling in order to achieve the best possible result. Good things don’t come in a breeze. 

First, you’ve got to determine whether it is worth it. And if it is, don’t just give up and toss all your work away; keep on at it. The result may not be what you exactly expected, but you can be guaranteed that it is always worth it.

I may groan and complain as I work to achieve my journalistic dreams, but every sweat I break, every time I spend working on it, it is not to waste. Because I am improving. Because I am learning. Because honestly, the process of that is even more significant and meaningful than the end result.

Question of the day: Is there something  for which you are busting your ass? Do you think it’s worth it, and how is the process of achieving it?

Deflated but Comforted

One thing I love and hate about college— I’m constantly learning.

It’s a good thing because I love learning about new stuff, enriching my mind with new opinions and views, and expanding my academic horizons. The thrill and pleasure I get from learning something new is like being tempted with fresh-baked cookies. I get a whiff of it, I get a taste of it, and I just crave it more and more.

But it’s also a very, very humbling experience…And I’m not going to lie— it’s a bit nerve-grating to find out that I still have so much to learn.

Yesterday was a whirl of frantic calls and emailing as I tried to get all my interviews in before the deadline for my article for the Daily Trojan, our school newspaper. I couldn’t get in contact with any of my interviewees because of the long weekend, and my hope for an extension was crushed when my editor basically told me I had to get it in time, or else.

After hours and hours of thumb-twiddling and frustrated groans and swearing, I finally got in touch with the City of L.A’s Councilman. Unfortunately, he talked in a low, throaty, mumbling sort of way and it was super-hard to understand what he was saying. Furthermore, he spitted out all these business terminologies that I have never even heard of! 

Thanks to Google and some expert paraphrasing, I managed to whip out my article in 8 minutes flat and email it to my editors in time.

All the sweat and tension was worth it, though, when I picked up the paper up this morning:

Oh yeah, front page, baby!

Granted, it was on front page just because it was probably the only newsworthy item today, but I was damn proud of it!

What I realized throughout this process, though, was that I am not as great of a writer as I thought I was. Pressured under time, limited to a certain amount of space, restricted to tons of journalistic rules, and forbidden of all forms of personal opinions, I was stripped to a confused and stumbling newbie in writing:

1. Editing time with my editors was torture. They basically re-wrote the whole article for me, pointing out to my bazillion errors
2. I made so many journalistic taboos, I could make the next Jayson Blair
3. Worse, I started questioning myself if I could make a good journalist, because I had a tough time with interviews, and catching good angles to a story
4. I found out I was timid. I was scared to interrupt the Councilman and tell him I had no idea what he was slurring about!

Oh, man. I have much to learn indeed, so freaking much to learn!

…Or…I can think of it as: Oh, yay, I can’t wait for the challenge and to learn as much as I can! Yippee! *Jumping jacks of celebration*

I am trying to turn my mindset to the latter, but truthfully, I can’t help feeling a bit…deflated and overwhelmed.

Thank goodness for comfort food. Some people turn to chocolate, some people to mac & cheese. But for me, nothing spells comfort food like a good bowl of kabocha soup. Yes, even if it is 100 degree outside and I have no AC in my room, kabocha soup was the one single thing that could truly warm me from inside-out (Besides God, of course).

Kabocha Soup with Bacon and Goat Cheese

• 2 teaspoon butter
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 2 cups roasted kabocha flesh, mashed
• chicken broth
• 1/4 cup milk/cream
• salt and pepper
• pinch of turmeric
• pinch of cumin
• 2 strips bacon, diced
• crumbled goat cheese

Heat up the butter in a large pot. Toss in the garlic and onion, fry until fragrant. Dump in the kabocha, then the chicken broth, enough until it covers the whole thing.

Bring the contents up to a boil, then a simmer. Add more chicken broth if needed. Pour the mixture into a blender, blend until smooth and creamy. Return to pot, stir in milk or cream. Season to taste.

Meanwhile, fry up the bacon until nice and crispy. Ladle the soup into a bowl. Top with bacon and goat cheese.
Served with half a warm (microwaved) ciabatta. And my favorite lime-green spoon from Yogurtland!

Can you say, ahh~hh.
There really is nothing like this rich and creamy and intensely orange soup on a stressful day.
And call me silly, but the fact that I was eating out of this lovely green spoon, with the visual contrast of colors, delighted me!

Slurping up this soup did wonders, but wait till you see what I received today…
A college-care package from Jennifer of Slim-Shoppin!! What an opportune time, just when I needed some pampering! I said “ahhh…” when I ate that soup, but I was totally going “AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!” when I saw this!

Just look at the lovely stuff she sent me:
 Maple & Brown Sugar Instant Oatmeal! How appropriate that it is called ‘Mom’s Best’…Jennifer was totally like a surrogate mom to me at that moment!
 Fruit snacks from Trader Joe’s, Peanut Butter Larabar, and Kashi bars! How did Jennifer know that the only Larabar I like is the PB one? She’s a mind-reader!

And more: packs of Garlic Rice Noodle Soup, and Organic Tomato & Roasted Red Pepper Soup from Trader Joe’s! Haha, I was just talking about the comforts of soup, too!
More munchies! (I already polished off the Smartfood popcorn clusters)

And awesome foodie magazines to indulge in when I feel like procrastinating!

THANK YOU SO MUCH, Jennifer! I must have been in some weird hormonal emotional state because I could have wept with gratitude. This small token of care and kindness came just at the right time, and not am I awfully thankful to Jennifer, I am also thankful to God for sending this package to me in such a timely manner!

*Sniff*sniff*. I honestly believe that life is beautiful. Even when things go wrong and sometimes you start questioning your own ability and decisions…somehow God provides a comforting hand through any random ways.

Ah, well. Back to the books I go. There is a reason why I am in college. Not to get A’s and flaunt my intelligence, but to be humble and to just learn as much as I can!

Question of the day: What is your ultimate comfort food? And in what small but significant way did anyone offer a source of comfort to you?

Identity Crisis

I’ve got an identity crisis. But it’s not so much that I don’t know who I am, but others don’t. Because apparently, everybody here in USC thinks I’m anything but Korean.

Now, I wouldn’t really be so bothered if the above said people were non-Asians. Not to offend anybody, but non-Asians have the tendency to lump every “almond-shaped eyes, yellow-skinned and exotic-looking Orientals” into one undistinguished group. Korean? Chinese? Vietnamese? Japanese? Why, don’t they all derive from China anyway? (I know you guys are sophisticated enough not to think that, but trust me, I’ve had ignorant fools say that to me one too many times)

No, it’s the Asians themselves who actually double over in shock—yes, shock— when I reveal that yes, indeed, I am 100% pure-blood Korean.

“No EFFING way!” One girl even screamed out, clasping her chest and causing a whole bunch of kids to turn around. I thought she was going to hyperventilate. Um, wow. I did not know my being Korean is that incredibly outrageous.

After the gasps and cries of astonishment, they continue: “So. But you’re like, half Chinese, right?”

I struggle to keep my cool. “Well, my dad is Korean. My mom is Korean. My grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents were all Korean. I was born in Korea. You could say I am a purely-bred Korean.”

They still look suspicious. They don’t relent: “But you don’t look Korean. And you’re kind of skinny.”

Oh. Em. Gi!!!! What the freaking hell?

I can’t go on anymore. I might burst a blood vessel.

Anyway, perhaps it’s the abdominal questioning of my mother country that has spurred me to go crazy with the Korean influence on my food. But I’ve been having mad cravings for the quintessential Korean ingredient, gochujang, for the past few days.

I hope by now you already know what gochujang is…
It’s this red fellow here. The Korean red pepper paste that is ubiquitous in pretty much any Korean dish. It’s really versatile, and all you need is a pinch of creativity. Let me prove my point…

I actually have pretty much been using this same marinade/sauce to spice up my dishes:

Gochujang-PB sauce

• 1 tablespoon gochujang
• 1-2 tablespoon soy sauce (to taste)
• 1-2 tablespoon peanut butter
• enough chicken broth to thin it out to your desired consistency

Mix. Pretty straight-forward and easy.

Here are the dishes I created with this incredible sauce:

Dish #1: Spiced-Up Frittata

• garlic, minced
• onions, diced
• shitake mushrooms, diced
• chicken, diced
• gochujang-PB sauce
• 2 eggs, beaten together with a bit of milk
• goat cheese
• green onion, chopped

Stir-fry the first three ingredients until slightly soft, then add in the chicken and the gochujang-PB sauce and stir-fry until cooked through.

Pour in the egg mixture, cook for a bit over low heat until the bottom is slightly set. Sprinlle on the goat cheese and green onion.

Cook in a 350 degree oven until the top is set. DIG IN!
Pretty simple, basic frittata. But over the top with the gochujang-PB sauce!

I pretty much just cut into it and dug in like pizza. I forgot the carbohydrate part, though, and got kinda gassy later…Thank god I was done with classes for the day! (Ok, TMI…but case in point: Do NOT forget the starch! Very very important if you wanna have a social life!)

Dish #2: Grilled Vegetable Salad

• roasted kabocha, sliced
• summer squash, sliced
• green bell pepper, chopped into rough pieces
• red onion, roughly chopped
• shitake mushroom, left whole
• pickles
• gochujang-PB sauce
• Parmesan cheese, grated
• green onions, chopped
• Avocado cream

I had to resort to my trusty George Foreman for this. It took a long time to grill every vegetable though…Mr. GF was small! 

So basically, just grill every vegetable, even the pickle (trust me, it’s freaking good). Then toss them into a bowl, drizzle as much of the gochujang-PB sauce over, sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and green onions. Add a dollop of avocado cream. And you’re done!
Let’s see. The cool, creamy avocado cream…
Lovely grilled summer squash (I like it al dente)…
Juicy, plump and meaty shitake mushroom…
Crunchy, sweet bell pepper that took forever to grill…
Kabocha that just about brightens any dish…
Pickle that may seem random but adds a burst of sweet-sour flavor in your mouth…
One perfect lovely bite!

Have I convinced you to try my gochujang-PB sauce yet? No? Okay, here’s another one…

Dish #3: Summer Stir-Fry with Runny Egg

You didn’t think I’d end this without a runny egg, did you? That might just be my trademark!

This was basically the same recipe as the fabulous concoction I told you about here…The one that got me totally addicted. 
Instead of the balsamic vinegar I used the gochujang-PB sauce and a squeeze of fresh lime juice to cook the vegetables. I didn’t have andouille sausage, so I just used plain regular hotdogs…don’t judge, I’m a poor college student and the big pack was 50% off! >.<
I forgot to buy vinegar so I couldn’t make poached eggs, but a runny fried egg worked just as well! As long as the yolk flows, anything goes! (Eep. That was corny…)
Hmm…You know what? Those kids who couldn’t believe I’m Korean might just have a point…Notice that though I used the authentic Korean ingredient, none of my dishes were really truly Korean….

What are they then? I don’t know…but they tasted mighty good! A total mumble jumble of different cuisines and styles, but I suppose that’s what I really am.

I don’t have a single ethnicity. I may be born in Korea and be a Korean citizen, but I’ve been exposed to so many different cultures as a missionary kid. I blend in perfectly with the Chinese people, but also feel incredibly comfortable with Koreans. I don’t feel the least bit out of place with Caucasians or African-Americans or Latin-Americans, either.

So you know what? I embrace my multi-cultural self. So there. I don’t look Korean? Fine. As long as I can blend in with any group of people and be myself and be comfortable, who cares?

Question of the day: Ever had the same issue in which people tell you that you don’t look like who you are? (Be it race, age, or god forbid, sex)

Holes

You know, there is something very particular about us humans: We’re never satisfied. As kids, there’s always a bigger, better toy. As teenagers, we want better grades, cooler gadgets, finer clothes. As adults, it gets even more complicated. We not only want better and more material possessions, but better jobs, relationships, lifestyles…well, you name it.

I’ve always used to feel like I have a hole inside of me. I was always striving for something, be it a good grade, or a thinner body, but each time I got to the goal I want, the temporary joy I achieved was short-lasting. Nothing seemed enough, nothing seemed to be able to fill up that emptiness in me.

Now, I’m starting to realize that true contentment doesn’t come from the outside. It starts from the inside. You know that inner peace that those weird meditating Zen people preach about? Well, I’m not sure if it comes from sitting in a Buddha-position and humming “ohmmm” for hours. But I can testify that it comes when you deeply discover the pure, unrefined love of God.

Right now, I feel like I’m relearning and rediscovering the intricate wonders and power of God’s amazing love. The fact that He so unconditionally and faithfully manifests His love to me through every single detail in my life, and every single creation in this world fascinates and moves me to tears. With the love of the Creator God, what more do I want? With the power and riches of the omnipotent God, what more do I need?

Suddenly, a lot of things I cared obsessively about just seems so trivial and meaningless now. I can honestly say that finally, I have found something that will fill up that hole inside of me permanently and eternally.

But when it comes to holes in pancakes…there’s also just one perfect item to fill them up. Can you guess? Why, it’s eggs, of course! Preferably one with a wobbly yolk!

After making that ratatouille from the last post, I still had half an eggplant left to use up. I decided to make pancakes, because obviously eggplants are best made into pancakes. Obviously. But with the addition of kabocha, obviously it’s just gonna get better. And with a runny egg in the middle of it, obviously it’s just gonna turn out perfect. Yes, obviously.

Egg-in-the-Hole
Egg in a Kabocha-Eggplant Pancake

• 1 tsp olive oil
• 1/2 eggplant, diced
• 1/2 large onion, diced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• Mexican chili powder
• cumin powder
• Tabasco chipotle pepper sauce
• salt and pepper
• about 1 cup kabocha puree
• flour
• cornmeal
• 2 large eggs
• grated Parmesan cheese

First heat up the oil in a pan. Toss in the eggplant and onion and garlic, sautee over medium heat until soft and mashable. Season with spice, Tabasco, and seasonings to taste.
Put the eggplant-onion mixture into a large bowl with the kabocha:
Mix and mash in 1 egg, and enough flour/cornmeal to make a mixture dry enough to form with hands.
Take about a cup worth of batter and flatten it out onto an greased frying pan. Make a hole in the middle and crack the other egg into it. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese:
Heat it up on top of a medium-heat stove until the bottom is set, then pop it into a 300 degree Fahrenheit oven until the egg white is opaque and cooked through. Serve immediately.
Now doesn’t that pancake look so happy and contented now? An egg is the perfect thing to fill up its emptiness indeed!
You can’t see it, but there were beautiful steam rising as I shot these pictures…enough to make my mouth water and my hands tremble!
Ooh…Gotta love Parmesan! Unfortunately I was a bit sparse with the cheese because I wasn’t sure how well it’d go with the pancake, but turns out it was absolutely perfect. Duh.
The flavor? Freaking amazing. Who knew kabocha and eggplant go so well together? But then, doesn’t kabocha go well with practically anything?
The spices were right on too! Sort of a Indian-ish flavor, but in the form of brunch!
The neat thing about having an egg with a runny yolk in the middle is that you just eat around it. Stab into a bit of the pancake, then dip into the yolk. Repeat, repeat, until all you’ve got left is the single golden yolk.
I had some batter left over, which I formed into smaller patties, and rolled in Parmesan.
Then I cooked it over a skillet.
They were nice, but I much preferred the baked version.
Oh, and what is life without a bit of sweetness in it?
Yes, cupcakes! Specifically: Strawberry cupcakes with strawberry cream cheese frosting adorned with a single blueberry.. Recipe from the awesome cupcake cookbook that Heather of Girlichef awarded me from her Cupcake Giveaway!
I baked these for my youth group whom I was teaching Sunday school today, and they lapped them up!
I myself put two of these cupcakes to test. One to see if it tasted good, and the other to make sure it really did taste just as good as the first one. Verdict: Both freaking good! And I should know, I double-checked The best thing about these cupcakes were that they were slightly tart and full of real strawberries. Not cloyingly-sweet at all!
I did a messy job with the frosting, but cupcakes are forgiving in that they still manage to stay photogenic! Oh, lovely little creatures! Thanks, Heather! This won’t be the last of the cupcakes I’ll be whipping up, I promise you!

Question of the Day: If you’re worried that I’ll be asking you something profound like “Do you feel empty inside” or “What fills you up”, you needn’t worry (Unless you really wanna talk about such things). Today’s question is easy-peasy. What is your favorite kind of pancakes?