“It’s a miracle that you and your sister have turned into cooks,” my mother told me recently. I felt honored. A cook. In my own home, I remain firmly sous-status. Although even Alex told me that my attitude in the kitchen has really changed lately. She said I have ‘chef attitude’ now. I’m not sure if it was meant as a compliment or she was simply annoyed that I was micromanaging her frizzling of chickpeas, but I didn’t care. Chef attitude!
It’s safe to say that my mom would place herself squarely in the non-chef-attitude camp. I asked her if she’s ever cooked anything from this newsletter. She said she’s keeping an eye out for a recipe that she can deal with. We’ve done over fifty recipes — pizza to pisco sours, chili oil to cheesecakes, human cookies, dog cookies! “What are you possibly waiting for?” I implored. She told me, rather matter-of-factly, that she’s waiting for a recipe with three to four ingredients and with nothing that she doesn’t already own. I asked if she knew that we were only cooking Chinese food right now. She said yes. This felt like a bit of an impasse.
Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely my mother’s son. In grad school, I would regularly drink Soylent instead of preparing a meal made of actual food. Like my mom, I was in it strictly for the calories. It was only more recently that I’ve been cajoled into the kitchen by a loving partner willing to suffer endless questions over years of apprenticeship… Are those onions done cooking? Was that enough olive oil? Is that garlic sliced thinly enough? Does this need more salt? Is that milk rancid? And on and on. The patience of a saint, truly. The point is, anyone can learn to cook. Granted even I avoid the four Ottolenghi cookbooks on our kitchen shelf. We can all aspire.
On the topic of cookbooks — celebrity chef, Jamie Oliver, recently released his twenty-seventh: 5 Ingredients Mediterranean. I heard him interviewed last week on NPR’s Here & Now where he explains the inspiration for his new book:
It’s a funny old thing, cookbooks. My job as an author is to listen to the public. And about five years ago I did ‘5 Ingredients’. It went gangbusters. Normally, I wouldn’t repeat a format like that. My wife bullied me to do another one. She said, look, this is where we’re at. This is what people want. This is what the mums talk about when we’re comparing notes. So I did what I should do, which is listen to her.
So there you have it. My mom is not alone! All the mums want it. Somewhere out there, they’re even comparing notes. Challenge accepted. I set off to find something, anything, to meet my seemingly unrealistic requirements: three to four ingredients, Chinese food, and made of nothing not already owned by my mother. To further complicate things, she noted that “we don’t have any food in the house right now.” Because she and my father are going on vacation. In three weeks.
(4 Ingredient) Scallion Pancakes
The Woks of Life, Page 62
After flipping through all 100 recipes in The Woks of Life, I found a single one that met the mark. I had to confirm with my mother that ‘water’ does not count towards our ingredient threshold. She said she’d let it slide.
Makes 8 small pancakes
1 1/2 cups (210g) all-purpose flour
Neutral oil (such as peanut, canola, vegetable)
1 teaspoon fine sea salt
3/4 cup finely chopped scallions (from about 4 scallions), white and green parts, patted dry before chopping
1/2 cup boiling water
2 to 3 tablespoons cold water
Step 1. Add the flour to a bowl and slowly stream in the boiling water while mixing the flour. You should end up with a shaggy-looking dough.
The recipe calls for a stand mixer but given our resource-constrained challenge, I’ve used a fork and bowl. What sized bowl? I wondered the same thing…
Me: Which bowl should I use?
Alex: It doesn’t matter.
Me: Come on. I know you have an opinion!
Alex: I am a dough expert. Thank you for recognizing that. Use that medium-sized, glass mixing bowl.
Add the cold water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and continue to mix, giving the dough about 1 minute after each addition of water. You should now have a semi-formed ball of dough.
Step 2. Sprinkle flour onto a clean surface and knead the dough by hand for about 5 minutes, until soft and smooth.
Step 3. Divide the dough into 8 equal pieces and form each into a smooth ball. I used a scale but you can just as easily eyeball it. Brush the dough balls with a little oil, cover with an overturned bowl, and let rest for 45 to 60 minutes.
Step 4. Roll each dough ball into a thin 4 by 9-inch rectangle. Using a rolling pin with built-in measurement markers is handy but a ruler works just as well. And if you aren’t quite sure how to use that trusty, old rolling pin, fear not, neither was I…
Me: Am I doing this right?
Alex: No, that’s terrible technique. Start in the center and roll out. Back to center and roll in. Turn 90 degrees and repeat.
Sprinkle the dough evenly with a pinch of salt and just over a tablespoon of scallions. Roll the dough lengthwise into a tight, long cigar. Now roll the cigar along the seam into a spiral to form a disc, tucking the loose end under the bottom. Finally, roll each disk into a 4 to 5 inch diameter pancake.
Step 5. Heat a large, cast-iron or nonstick pan over medium heat. If using cast-iron, preheat until it just starts to smoke. Add 2 to 3 tablespoons of oil to generously coat the bottom of the pan. Add 1 to 2 pancakes at a time, cooking each side for 3 to 4 minutes.
Make ahead. The rolled, uncooked pancakes can be placed between parchment paper in a plastic bag and frozen for up to 3 months. When ready to cook, simply follow the cooking instructions above. No need to thaw.
Over to you, Mom.
First off, I can’t wait for Greg to make these!! I might be in your mom’s camp on how many recipes I’ve made from the newsletter 😜
And, second, I’m so happy the newsletter is back. It’s such fun getting a glimpse into your day to day life. My favorite part might be the repartee with that sweet, demure wife of yours! ❤️