No, your eyes do not deceive you. These Sake Cured Salmon Blinis are topped with itty bitty seasoned quail eggs. And yes, they are marinated in the same marinade I used for the season chicken eggs in my Cold Shoyu Somen. Do you consider that lazy or thrifty? Smart or cheap? For me, it just makes good sense. Leftovers are an occasionally daunting part of my everyday life. So, when I find an opportunity to give something in my fridge new life, I take it. Particularly if it’s *this* close to sprouting fuzz, at which point I have to decide whether to throw it out or name it. Just an everyday reality when you are inexplicably capable of bonding with inanimate objects. But anyway…
Some of my earliest memories are centered around meat and potatoes. Every Sunday my family would pile into the car and head over to my grandmother’s house for dinner. Without fail she’d always serve a roast alongside a mountain of mashed potatoes. My sister was a roast beef kind of girl, but I was in it for the roast pork. I loved that roast pork not because it was brined or smoked to rosy pink perfection. My grandmother wasn’t that kind of cook. She grew up on a farm, fussing was not in her DNA. No, what I loved about her roast pork was the applesauce that accompanied it. It was one of the first times fruit and meat crossed paths on my dinner plate and it was certainly not the last. Today’s Apricot Stuffed Pork Chops are just another by-product of a food obsession hatched in my formative years.
Oh! Tiki culture, you morally confusing beast. I love your bright colors and unabashed tackery. But I’m troubled by your cultural appropriation of Polynesian mythology and imagery. To say I’m conflicted about tiki culture would be an understatement. But having said that, I have to admit it fascinates me. It’s a bizarre mash-up of misinterpreted cultural symbols and mid-century American aesthetics. It’s strangely beautiful, there’s no getting around it. So, when you isolate tiki culture from the unfair stereotypes it places on a minority, it’s not difficult to see its charms. But is it a given that it should be seen as its own stand-alone cultural phenomenon? No, not necessarily. So, before we get to the frothy, blue fun that is Blue Hawaii Granita let me be clear: Tiki culture is not to be mistaken for Polynesian culture. Okay, I feel marginally better, let’s press on.