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Soba ‘chow mein’

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soba 'chow main'

soba ‘chow mein’

soba 'chow main'

soba ‘chow mein’

Isn’t that weird when a song comes on the radio and you are thinking of a film the song was in? Or maybe it’s just me.

Recently a song made me think of ‘Something Wild’.

And I had to watch it again for the zillionth time.

What’s not to like, it’s a great film. If you have a boring life and boring job you would probably love to meet Lulu, have a school reunion similar to hers and a crazy afternoon of drink driving, stealing and motel delights…

It’s one of the best for Ray Liotta and Jeff Daniels. And for me it carries this amazing vibe, it always makes me long for summer and adventure, makes me want to pack my bags and find my way across the country. Also fills me with nostalgia. It is really weird, but films like that make me feel like I miss my childhood, which I don’t, as mine was more like ‘Mommy Dearest’ than ‘The Wonder Years’. But that’s the magic of cinema…

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You wouldn’t expect what I felt like eating with it…Nothing soaked with whiskey or topped with ice cream. Noodles! I know, random, but that’s one of the bloggers Paul S. fault – he was questioning me why I didn’t pick noodles for ‘Blade Runner’ and since then I couldn’t stop thinking of chow mein. This is a healthier version than your usual takeaway….

Soba ‘Chow Mein’:

soba noodles

2 carrots, grated

2 cups chopped Chinese leaf cabbage

1-2 cm ginger, grated

spring onions, chopped (1/2 cup)

1 small chilli chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

2 tbsp toasted sesame oil

For the sauce:

1 tsp honey or agave syrup

2 tbsp tamari

1 tbsp rice vinegar

1 tsp teriyaki

1. Heat sesame oil in a pan. Add ginger and chilli. Stir and fry for 4-5 minutes. Add carrots, cabbage and half of the spring onions (whiter bits). Fry on a medium heat till tender.

2. In the meantime cook soba noodles and make the sauce. Add noodles and sauce to your vegetables, mix well, fry for another 2 minutes. Serve with a sprinkle of the remaining spring onions.

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About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

3 responses »

  1. Soba chow mein and Something Wild sounds like a delicious combination.
    Oh the joys and dangers of letting your wild side run rampant!

    Reply

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