Global Cuisine

Miso soup is a traditional Japanese comfort food that has gained popularity throughout the world. Here in the United States, it entered the zeitgeist along with sushi and sake when Japanese cuisine became popularized in the 1980s. In Japan, miso soup is eaten by everyone everyday and is as popular as tea. Most Westerners tend to find it difficult to appreciate miso soup, to say the least. It's just one of those foods that is either loved or hated. But for me it's a soup I've been trying to come to terms with for many years. Whenever I've had miso soup I've always hated it, but sometimes I've almost liked it. I've learned that depending on the restaurant and depending on the preparation and the paste used, miso soup can be very different.

There are three to four main types of miso paste used to make the soup including red, white, yellow, and a mixed paste. They can be made of soybeans, wheat, barley, rice, or a combination. The flavors range from very strong and salty, of red miso, to more delicate and refined, of white miso. I've become very fond of yellow miso, which is the one I use for this soup recipe. I use a brand that makes a low-sodium version, which is just how I prefer the taste. Most miso pastes are very high in sodium. I do love the umami flavor of miso, but do not like the overpowering salty taste of many miso paste brands. That's what turned me off in the first place. But making miso soup is mostly about personal taste.

While I was staring aimlessly into the cupboard the other night, looking for my daily dinner inspiration, I came across four jars of peanut butter. I had crunchy, creamy, smooth and natural. The point was I needed to do something with them. Peanut butter and jelly wasn’t going to cut it, unless I wanted a mutiny on my hands. Since I love a good peanut sauce, I figured that was the direction I was heading. Before I knew it, Fragrant Peanut-Lime Noodles graced my dinner table. I decided not to make them spicy since it was a family meal but a few red pepper flakes could definitely give you the heat, if so desired.

The sauce is creamy and clings nicely to the linguini. With added broccoli, you have your vegetables covered and the peanuts add a nice crunchy texture. Mealtime was a smashing success and everyone walked away from the table content. The best part, this dinner comes together easily for a quick, weeknight meal while packing a weekend punch.

When ever I am asked what would my last meal be, the answer is always the same; a crispy taco.  Crispy tacos are way at the top of my list of favorites and I have absolutely no will power when it comes to ordering in a Mexican restaurant.  Intellectually, I know I should be ordering the soft tacos with grilled chicken or grilled shrimp in a Verde sauce.  But I just can’t seem to help myself.

Growing up, a typical day was swimming at the Nathan’s pool, doing some arts and crafts, and then gathering up my friends and riding our bikes to Taco Tio. Taco Tio was a typical little taco stand about 3/4 of a mile from my house. Food was ordered through a sliding mesh screen and there were a few stools that sat under the outside, very high counter.  I would order my crispy tacos, sit on those stools,  and watch the lady make and assemble my afternoon snack. When Taco Tio closed and a sub shop tooks it place, it was a sad day in the neighborhood.  And to this day, I have had a hard time replacing the taste of both their tacos or those memories.

Stuffed and sated without the ability to eat even one more bite – or so I thought – we headed to Hwang Hu Sam Gye Tang restaurant to experience Samgyetang, a hot bowl of bubbling chicken soup made with one very important ingredient: ginseng.

Ushered upstairs to the second floor of this elegant and glistening airy restaurant, we were seated next to a vast window overlooking a rainy busy side street below. We passed walls that were lined with photographs of celebrity and everyday patrons, leaving the menu to appear even that much more sparse. Hwang Hu Sam Gye Tang doesn’t offer too many things other than chicken and ginseng soup, a fact I’d later forget about once the scorching hot liquid touched my tongue.

The chef and host suggested that they bring our food to the table before cooking purely for photographic purposes. “Please, do not go through any trouble” I said to our guide, watching my translated words make their way to the chef. The chef wouldn’t have it any other way, his face said everything I needed to know. Once a boiling hot soup is brought to our table I would see none of the ingredients; steam and bubbles would make sure of that. I acquiesced and like a good guest I let them set out bowls of food to photograph.