after + before

Playing around with the Instagram App on some pictures I snapped of dinner this past weekend and I can't decide which I prefer. The unadulterated versions (seen below) or the ones put through a filter. They certainly do a good job of masking the imperfections (of which there are many) in the steak plate shot. In fact, it's masking so much it's almost hard to tell what it is you're looking at.

But hey, if anything, that's what I'm here for.

An impromptu dinner party was whipped up in a matter of minutes on Saturday night. Really, because that's just how I do. Remember that coconut braised beef I was flipping out over? Well, this was my quick-fix version. And I'm afraid to say that it just might have been better than the real deal. Instead of braising beef chuck for hours in the fantastically fragrant coconut sauce, I made the sauce on its own and allowed it to simmer for a half hour or so. Then I seared off a flank steak which had quickly marinated in garlic, ginger and soy. Sushi rice went into the rice maker, a splash of orange juice was reduced with fresh ginger then whisked with oil and a few red pepper flakes for salad dressing. At the sound of the buzzer, vodka was poured over ice and quickly followed by a splash of pineapple juice and topped off with seltzer and a squeeze of fresh lime. Cheers. Clink. Sip. And as soon as our hunger started to kick in (shortly thereafter, I assure you), the steak was thinly sliced and fanned out over a spoonful of rice, generously covered in the decadently rich and racy coconut sauce and topped with roughly chopped cilantro. Bibb lettuce gently tossed in the orange-chili-ginger dressing, snuggled up seductively alongside.

After dinner, I briefly left the room to take a phone call. When I returned, the table was empty and there were two people (who shall remain nameless) in the kitchen, hovering over the stove, spoons in hand, just absolutely going to town on the remains of the coconut sauce.

So, again, the recipe is here.

coconut-braised beef, also known as fate

I suppose it's "normal" to get stuck in a cooking rut. Hey, I'll admit it. It's all too easy for us to fall into a comfortable routine which involves making the same thing week in and week out with little to no variation. It requires so much less thinking, less decision-making. You're cruising along on autopilot and for the moment, autopilot feels good.

That is, until you hit a wall going 50. Must. Try. Something. New.

So straight to my recipe binder I went, sifting through the pages, waiting for something to catch my tired, jaded eye. And then, in a way that could only be described as fate, I glanced into my future and smiled. Coconut-braised beef.

I excitedly shuffled over to the market for the beef, a dried chili, and a can of coconut milk and then hurriedly ran back home to get things under way. And as soon as I blitzed the ginger, garlic, chili, lime zest and juice into a paste and then into the hot pan it went to bloom, I felt shivers. Honest to God shivers. If anything, I urge you to make this recipe just for that moment. That one moment when your kitchen is totally enveloped in scents so exotic and alluring and pleasantly potent that you almost don't know what to do with yourself. It's practically paralyzing.

But I'll tell you what you'll do three hours later. You will come to. And you will eat. Oh, will you eat. And in between bites, you will laugh. You will laugh at the outrageousness of this dish. Bold flavors and nuances and textures and heat. It just tastes special. Really, really, really special.

Change is good.

Recipe: Coconut-Braised Beef

weekend dinner party DEBUT

Photo courtesy of Andrew Scrivani for the New York Times

There are two questions with which I get bombarded (willingly and happily) by on a daily basis: restaurant recommendations and "What should I make for ______?" No matter what the occasion and/or dinner guest(s), truth be told, menu planning is one of my favorite things to do. The hypothetical promise of a fabulous meal fills me up with enough inspiration and drive to knock out menu after menu in no time. I get an adrenaline rush. I suppose for someone that's infinitely devoted to fashion, putting together devastatingly perfect outfits (with an unlimited closet of sorts) would yield the same sort of euphoric result. Satisfaction and gratification. It's what makes us all tick.

That said, I thought it would be mutually beneficial (for you and me) if I started pumping out weekend dinner party ideas every Wednedsay, which will give you plenty of time to shop, plan, and prep by Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. And what's better than a night with friends, food and/or a date to look forward to come the weekend? A whole lotta nothing, that's what.

Take-In Night

Gyoza Dumplings with Dipping Sauce

Tsing Tao (or Sapporo or Kirin) Beer

Coconut Braised Beef over Rice with Cilantro

Dry Riesling (recommend: Pacific Rim Dry Riesling)

Mango Sorbet with Mint

As far as the dumplings are concerned, unless you're feeling adventurous and have time to kill and want to make your own, I'm voting frozen all the way. Trader Joe's has a great bag of frozen Thai Shrimp Gyoza Dumplings which I always have in the freezer but almost every grocery store now carries a brand. Asian speciality stores will have a particularly fabulous selection if you can manage to swing by one. You'll also find dumpling sauce there (and in the Asian aisle at the regular grocery store) which I like to supplement with a little bit of chopped fresh scallions. Throw the frozen dumplings into a hot pan with a little bit of a neutral oil and allow them to pick up some good, golden brown color on the bottom. After about 3 or 4 minutes, add in 2 Tbsp. of water, stand back, and throw a lid on top. Allow them to steam for another 2 to 3 minutes and serve while still hot. They're the perfect, easy appetetizer with a cold beer. You'll want to do this just before guests arrive.

The Coconut Braised Beef recipe is by my boy, Mark Bittman of the New York Times. I've had it printed and sitting here at my desk, staring at me, enticing me for far too long. It utilizes a ridiculously affordable cut of meat and turns it into a tender and slightly exotic masterpiece. There are minimal ingredients and it doesn't require much of your attention at all. Throw it together early afternoon and you're set. Done.

Put a pot of rice on 20 minutes before your guests are about to arrive, and then go and prep yourself. When you're taken care of, pop open a Tsing Tao, get working on the dumplings, and excitedly anticipate your friends walking in to the smell of simmering coconut milk, ginger, chilis, scallions, and cilantro; immediately spreading smiles across their faces.

You'll pull it all off effortlessly without a glimmer of doubt. And remember, dessert's waiting patiently in the freezer to be topped with a few fresh leaves of mint.

Cheers, my social butterflies.