Kate and I make a good treasure hunting team. I have the list, organized both by category and recipe, and she has the mental map. I might say something like, "Okay, we need spices like star anise, cloves, and cinnamon." She squints her eyes in thought and says, "I think there's an Indian market a mile down on the right." Off we go! She is right about the locale of the market, of course. You
might not even know it's an Indian market because the doors are covered in Indie movie posters and fliers. But when you walk in, you are hit with the glorious smells of cumin and cardamon, and you see a counter full of homemade Indian goodies. Samosa anyone? Kate and I are overcome with giddy delight as we realize we are in a mecca of Indian spices, grains, sauces, and cookware. We seriously have to suppress the desire to take inventory of the entire store and plan an Indian cooking day instead. I take a moment to thank the Hindi Gods for Berekely and Kate waves me forward because she has found a vat of Basmati rice. She asks, "How much do we need?" I consult the list and reply, "Two cups." She scoops out two cups and we move on to the bin of star anise. Ar! The treasure, she's mine!Actually, before we made it to the Indian food market, we made 3 other notable stops: a market I refer to as That Market Next To Oliveto, the home of Kate's friends, and an Asian food market that was going out of business. That morning Kate picked me up from the BART station near her house and we made our way to College Avenue to pick up some pastries for our coffee date with two lovely souls that Kate has befriended at Holy Names College.
The Market Next to Oliveto is a perfect market. It has fresh made everything--deli salads, baked goods, breads, sandwiches, coffee, wine-- as well as a selection of meats, fresh fish, and imported pastas and cheeses. And although it is covered it has that feeling of being an open air market with cafe tables outside. Of course I had to take another moment to walk that fine line between appreciation for the offerings of the market and self pity that I don't have one in Urbana. (I find that I have to take too many of these moments). After perusing the market like an overactive dog on a walk, pushing my nose up to all the cases and table tops, we set out to meet the sisters.
Two hours and a fantastic cup of coffee later we returned to this market and chose two bottles of wine to pair with the Crab Salad with Spiced Lime Curd and the Cioppino. Kate and I took care to tell the wine steward the intimate details of our dishes: the salad will have the sweet delicate flavor of the Dungeness crab augmented by a lime curd that has a whole teaspoon of cayenne pepper. It shall sit on a bed of bitter frisee. What do you suggest? After considerable debate, we settled on the Hirsh Reisling--not overwhelmingly sweet, but enough sugar to balance the spice.
The Cioppino pairing involved another detailed conversation. In my opinion, it's not easy to find the right wine for a Cioppino. Most, if not all, of the fish in Cioppino is white. But the broth is tomato based and made with red wine. Depending on the recipe, you may also be dealing with a number of spices, herbs, and vegetables (some recipes have carrots and green pepper). I'm sure the Italian San Francisco fisherman who developed this dish didn't stop to think too hard about the wine. They came off the boat, threw what was fresh in a pot of tomato stew, flavored it with garlic and a glass of whatever table wine was nearby--hence Heather's grandfather's recipe calling for 2 cups of wine: one for the pot and one for the chef. But, we epicureans like to strive for simple perfection and we are called to find the right marriage of wine, food,
and personal taste. In this case, Kate favors the big reds, I favor whatever won't drown my palate and compete with my precious fish, and Paul goes both those directions with a preference for smooth wines that don't have an alcoholic finish. Given all that and the origin of the dish, Kate and I settled on a medium bodied Italian red than leaned ever so slightly to the heavier side: Castel del Monte Vigna Pedale Riserva Torrevento. Wow, that's a mouthful! Kate was drawn to this wine as a special treat for me since it was produced in Puglia, where my grandparents are from. In fact, the red variety of the Castel Del Monte wines are named for a province in Foggia, which is the city of great grandmother's birth. There's nothing like adding a touch of heritage to a developing tradition with new friends. After all that, did the wine work with the Cioppino? Well, you'll have to wait for the Cioppino post to find out.After selecting the wine and grabbing a sandwich from the deli (roast beef on focaccia with blue cheese crumbles and veggies), we went to an Asian food and supply store with the hope of finding the wonton soup spoons needed for the Bloody Mary spoons. We didn't find those, but we did find an amazing crab pot for $10. You can boil 2-3 crabs at a time in this beast. I don't even want to think about the quantities of Cioppino that be ladled from it. Talk about finding treasure.
The last stop on our hunt for goods was Ranch 99, located in the same shopping center in El Cerrito as the late great Pu Ping Thai (the butt of many jokes; feel free to post them in the comments). Some people think you haven't lived until you've been to some exotic place like Hawaii or Africa, or perhaps attempted a climb of Mt. Everest, but I think Ranch 99 should be a required stop for people who claim to have "been there, done that." Or maybe it should be a stop on the Amazing Race. It has that kind of energy--the kind that makes you feel like you should enter with your passport in a fanny pack and be prepared for anything, including having to speak 3 languages. When Kate and I were there, I can think of several occasions in which it would have been helpful to speak or read Chinese, Vietnamese, and Spanish. This place is the real deal: authentic and chuck full of hard to find food. You wanna papaya? They have it. You wanna 10 foot pole of lemongrass? They have it. You want some fresh pea shoots? They have them by the bagful. You want a pound of peeled garlic on a Styrofoam plate? No problem. How about some fish heads, seaweed, giant clams sitting in a bath of saltwater, or 12 kinds of fish sauce? You came to the right place.
Now, let's ju
st say you want some Chinese glass noodles to put in some spring rolls. Head on over to Isle 7 and I'll show you some noodles. A good 50 feet of noodles. You might be a little overwhelmed. You want to be sure you get the right noodle. This is no time for the wrong noodle. This noodle could make or break the dish, which could make or break the day. If you're Kate, you look around and you spot a friendly looking woman who looks like the sort who knows her noodles. You ask, "Excuse me, do you know glass noodle?" You grab a package of thin noodles. "Is this the right noodle?"And here begins an adventure within an adventure. Because this lady isn't just any lady going about her business in Ranch 99. No sirree. This lady cares that you find the noodle for your spring roll. In very broken English, she asks you detailed questions about your spring rolls. She takes a look at the spring roll wrappers that you've chosen. She deduces that you are making a Vietnamese spring roll. She picks up various thin noodle packages and says, "You read this and I read this." The back of the package has descriptions in 3 languages. After about 15 minutes and dissertation worthy deliberation everyone is in agreement on the glass noodle that is required for the Vietnamese spring roll, as well as the noodle that gets you the most bang for your buck.
Then, this lovely, kind-hearted woman with a smile that would melt ice asks you, "Where do you live?" I'm thinking, "This lady wants to know what two young white girls are doing in Isle 7." I say I live far away. Kate says she lives nearby. She says, "Okay, I tell you... I live at 304 Cypress. I think it like a tree. It only 6 block from here. You come see me sometime and I teach you cook Chinese." I love this lady. And I love Ranch 99. And I can't believe that she took so much time to help us find our noodles (kind of like those people on Amazing Race who stop everything they're doing to help the desperate couple find the next clue and then the train station). Kate and I spend another 20 minutes picking out Chinese Soup spoons and Cioppino bowls and I'm pretty sure we are the happiest people in the store. We proceed to the checkout counter and make plans to dine at Kirala--a treasure all it's own.
You (or maybe Kate) should go to that lady's house.
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