mary eats

The Food Court at Uwajimaya Village is a frenzied place. The narrow alley of restaurants and bakery storefronts faces off against the ever bustling deli counter of the Asian Grocery Giant. Sticky crisp duck hang in a warmer as seasoned Deli vets bark out order numbers, “41?”, “41?”, “41!” Separated only by a stream of awkward tables, which patrons begrudgingly share family style, sits The Shilla, a quick Korean take out, as close as I can get to my beloved Kim Bap Chung Guk.

As I pour over the menu, a English friendly descriptions and photos, sans Hangul, I over hear a high school student breakdown kimchi with the same enthusiasm Actor Ben Stine repeatedly calls out “Bueller, Bueller, Bueller,” in Ferris Bueller’s day off. “Uh, it’s like cabbage, that is like, uh, fermented, with, uh, chilies.” In fairness to this young lad, I bet he gets asked this question 20 times a day, I’ll put money on the fact the he can probably spot out who will and won’t choose the fiery condiment over a bland hospital-esque salad of iceberg lettuce sprinkled with tinned sweet corn.

Kevin’s aching throat called out for kimchi jjigae, and me, the bulgogi sandwich. Here marinated slices of beef are sautéed up with onions and nestled in a soft French roll with tomato slices, iceberg leaves, blanketed with a slice of sliced processed American cheese. Heaven.

The kimchi jjigae, arrived without rice, but was chock full of sliced pork, chewy rice cakes, tender kimchi, and tofu cubes. Less pungent than those tried in Seoul, this version played a more sweet, salty, spicy almost akin to a Thai coconut chicken soup.

Prices are easy, most hovering around the $6.95 mark. But don’t expect stone pots here, everything, rather, is served in plastic to go containers; gochujang is served on the side for a quarter, as is gim, seasoned seaweed, 95 cents. On the plus side, all dishes are cooked to order.

The Shilla
10:30a.m-9:00p.m daily
517 S. Weller Street
Seattle
206-381-1207

So, did you think I’d quit school? Run off to the big city to make my fortune and end up on the Food Network with my own show? No, silly, it was just spring break. 10 glorious days of waking up at 10 am, lounging around watching Food Network and Bravo’s Top Design to my heart’s content. (I was pulling for Goil)

The last couple weeks of first quarter went a little like this: zoom, blam, crash, pow, whomp, zallawazoo. Hard and fast. I scored a 93 on my knife test. It was nerve racking. I completely botched my batonnet (far too big, steak fries anyone?) and brunoise (screw brunoise, seriously. I’m over it), but managed 40 minutes. I scored a crackin’ 100% on my final, and even managed to pass the servsafe exam with a 92. Not too shabby. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t finish the quarter with a bit of an ego (Come on , a 4.0, how could you not think you’re the queen of the world- that and forcing kevin to greet me every morning saying “hey queen of the world”).

The change from first quarter and second quarter could not be more dramatic, physically and emotionally. This quarter my classmates and I are responsible for crafting up lunch service for the entire culinary and baking programs as well as the lunch buffet SCCC students and faculty frequent. It is quantity cookin’ baby. Yee haw.

Quantity cooking has it’s purpose, hospitals, weddings, my lunch Tuesday-Friday, but dang is it hectic. For one I am preoccupied with maintaining quality and integrity of the food I produce, on the other hand, I have a time deadline along with a heavy workload. As eaters/consumers we can’t help but be skeptical, a little suspicious even of large vats of food sitting out on the buffet line. And I find that same feeling creeping up on me when I am fixing up 75 servings of salad dressings. “How can this possibly taste good?” I’ll ask myself, assuming that larger = worse. Maybe that is why fine dining servings are so tiny. Tiny = better.

I think I have explained before a bit about my first quarter classroom, it was at the opposite end of the school, a quiet, serene, Zen rock garden of a lab compared with the steam whistles, oven hums, and range fan droning of the main kitchen where the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th quarter students go about their work. I feel a bit out of sorts, if my life experience and obsessive home cooking aided me last quarter, then my lack of kitchen experience has me doubting my performance now. Time management is a huge issue, as is learning when to finish a dish, even if it means not rearranging the shrimp to look like the NYC Rockettes doing the can-can. I hope this is only beginning of the quarter jitters.

I’ve been moonlighting.

No, I haven’t been asked to guest post on is my blog burning, or Ed Levine’s mondo popular Ed Levine Eats (he totally copied me, but, he’s a better blogger-what can you do?). No.

I have started a new cooking project/blog with my husband aka, the forearms in all my restaurant photos. Here at www.cookingcrowes.wordpress.com you can follow Kevin and I as we cook through a new cookbook each month, half testing our culinary skills and half testing our patience with each other’s culinary skills (he totally second guesses everything I say! Hello! I am in culinary school! If I say high heat, then high heat it is!)

The story goes a little like this. I have been cooking seriously since I was 19. I have also been collecting cookbooks since that time. Thus far I have amassed a fare collection, everything from celeb chefs (How to Eat by Nigella Lawson) to the classics (Mastering the Art of French Cooking) to the fads (Raw) not to mention the whole Lonely Planet World Food Series.

While Kevin supports my culinary endeavors in every way, he is always dubious when a package from Amazon arrives, or when he finds a crumpled half priced books receipt in my pocket (must remember to clean out jean pockets when putting them in the laundry). He claims that I haven’t cooked out of at least half of them, and I swear he calls every time I am browsing the cookbooks online or at the bookstore. It’s like he knows.

So, after a particularly sassy tiff, “It’s for my education!!! You don’t want me to fail because I don’t know the history of caviar do you?” I challenged him to cooking out of a new cookbook each month with me (this way I can buy obscure culinary tools and ingredients instead of cookbooks). My plan is working brilliantly, I tell you. Brilliantly! (insert demonic laugh here) I had also just finished Julie and Julia, the book born out of a blog, chronicling Julie Powell’s year cooking every recipe out of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. While I wasn’t committed to the idea of cooking out of one cookbook for an entire year, I wanted a project kev and I could do together. And a blog was born.

I’m in bold over there, so you’ll know who to skip if you’re just looking for more Mary. But if you love bumbling and (usually) high effort, you may enjoy it. What else do you have going on? Yeah, that’s right, come check it out.

Tell us what you think, we love comments.

In the March issue of Bon Appetite (you know, the one with the drool worthy pizza on the cover) the editors came up with a play list of songs each suited to a particular cooking task. Cooking to music is nothing new. I usually just flip on NPR, but if we want to get all “Like Water for Chocolate” about it, finding the right mood could enhance the final product, even if it is just dinner for one.

For Soup: Cooking time 47 minutes
Bon Appetite suggests Bob Dylan, Bringing it all back home.
Why? Mainly for the use of the word stockpot, and “is wonderfully suited”.

Don’t you think it would depend on the kind of soup you were making? A velvety roasted butternut squash soup vs. a spring pea soup? Or a crisp cool gazpacho vs. a hearty comfort stew? You couldn’t play the same song for each. Granted not every album will carry a particular mood throughout, but we can try.

I say for creamy soups: soft and sexy, something to get you into a warm mood. American Analog Set, Know by Heart. Why? Melodic and charming, soft vocals, need I say more?
For stews: Flying Burrito Brothers, The Gilded Palace of Sin. Why? Songs of heartbreak, jealously, and scorn suggest correction with a big hearty bowl of stew.
For light or cold soups: Apples in Stereo, The Discovery of a World Inside the Moon. Why? Big beats, cheery vocals, and a little call and response echoes the essence of spring and summer.

For Baking a cake: Cooking time 66 minutes.
Bon Appetite suggests Kronos Quartet and Asha Bhosle “You stole My Heart: Songs from R.D Burman’s Bollywood.”
Why? “The emotional high and lows are perfect for the step by step process of baking a perfect cake.”

I support their reasoning, baking a cake can require one to go through a series of hair pulling steps (especially if the recipe if from one Martha Stewart), but Bollywood! ICK. I realize that I may be the only one not yet on this Bollywood train, but I just can’t get into it. I’m not a musical person, save for Grease (John Travolta when he was cute), and I blame a college roommate who used to blare Bollywood hit after hit it in our small studio apartment.

Like soups, I think different cakes require different songs, a classic buttercream frosted yellow or chocolate cake vs. a ganache covered death by chocolate dream.

Cakes for fun, Brigitte Bardot. Why? Carefree and in lyrics lost on my non-French speaking ears, all concentration can be focused on one of Martha’s 29 step cake-tasrophies.
Cakes to seduce, Bille Holiday, The Essential Bille Holiday. Why? Sweet and Sorrow, let her smoky croon guide that flat spatula over a pool of silky moose frosting.

For Stir-frying: cooking time 63 minutes
Bon Appetite suggests, Missy Elliott, “The Cookbook”
Why? “This CD is funky and witty enough to keep you slicing and dicing.”

Frankly, I have to disagree. I love me some Missy, don’t get me wrong, but when a Missy tune comes on, all control is cast aside, and dancing in unavoidable, generally in a robotic, stiff arm, dropping shoulder, caboose shaking action. Not something that allows one to focus on the detailed tasks stir-frying requires.

My Pick: The Go! Team, Thunder Lightning Strike. Why? It’s energetic, more pogo dancing than crunkin’. Arms can get into the mix as well, with rhythmical stir-frying or chopping action.

Finally, for Braising All Day, cooking time 5 hours, 27 minutes
Bon Appetite suggests, Charles Mingus, “Passions of a Man: The Complete Atlantic Recordings (1956-1961)
Why? “A library of captivating jazz masterpieces to play throughout the day.”

I could agree with this one, I love Mingus, and can think of no one better to draw out long flat or sharp notes.

I would also suggest A Prairie Home Companion, a Sunday show on NPR, not because I listen to it, but because it is always on! I have no clue how long this show is supposed to go, but I swear my local NPR station plays it from 10 am on Sunday, till god knows when. Seems appropriate for braising.