This is the kind of meal you make when you're on autopilot. It's the kind of thing that comes together with minimal work and maximum ease, in a situation where reading directions and following a recipe would be asking far too much. After an overzealous Saturday, I woke up Sunday and faced a daunting list of to-dos, but only half the capacity to complete them. I had to venture down to Eastern Market (which is inconvenient in the first place, much less under the circumstances) to get a necklace restrung. My jewelry man told me he could fix it in 15 minutes. Awesome. I'd be back home on my sofa in no time. To kill time, I ducked into a coffee shop and ordered a cup of iced coffee. I paid for it, and then walked out of the coffee shop – sans coffee. I didn’t realize it until I was milling through the stalls. Seriously, I don’t know who does this.
After I went back to reclaim my coffee (you should have seen the look from the barista), I came across a stall with beautiful, hand-embroidered girls’ dresses. The thin, gauze-like fabric and bright, intricate embroidery was oddly familiar, but unplaceable. Then, I looked at the woman sitting in the corner. Back to the dresses. To the woman. Ah hah! - she was definitely Ecuadorian. The dresses looked familiar because I had a steady rotation of dresses exactly like them every summer until I was in middle school, at least.
Overestimating my ability to hold a casual conversation in Spanish while operating at 50%, (well, let's be real, the caffeine hadn't kicked in yet, so 30%) I started chatting with her. Her skin turned from a rusty copper to a pale white. Normal reaction from whenever I speak Spanish to an unsuspecting stranger. I complimented her handiwork and made small talk for a bit, the autopilot guiding me through a conversation I've had a hundred times before. (Where did you learn to speak Spanish like that? What is your connection to Ecuador? etc.) Within a couple minutes, my autopilot failed and I was forced toawkwardly duck out politely excuse myself. I went to pick up some produce before I reclaimed my necklace and went home. Then I realized I didn’t have cash, so I went back to wandering aimlessly until my necklace was finished. I would just have to stop at the grocery store on the way home.
Overestimating my ability to hold a casual conversation in Spanish while operating at 50%, (well, let's be real, the caffeine hadn't kicked in yet, so 30%) I started chatting with her. Her skin turned from a rusty copper to a pale white. Normal reaction from whenever I speak Spanish to an unsuspecting stranger. I complimented her handiwork and made small talk for a bit, the autopilot guiding me through a conversation I've had a hundred times before. (Where did you learn to speak Spanish like that? What is your connection to Ecuador? etc.) Within a couple minutes, my autopilot failed and I was forced to
Later, I walked in the door and Whitney told me I looked confused. I told her that I thought I blacked out in Safeway because I wasn't sure exactly what I bought.
“You probably just got a shit ton of vegetables.”
“You probably just got a shit ton of vegetables.”
Oh, she knows me far too well. Sometimes I fall prey to the beautiful colors of fresh vegetables at the market or grocery store (again, I don't know who does this) and come home with a plethora of produce, but nothing quite goes together, and I have absolutely no plan to execute. I unloaded the contents of my bag and took a look. Bok choy. Mushrooms. Frozen edamame. Some other random things. So I decided on stirfry. I wish I could say that I picked up these ingredients with this end goal in mind....but I didn't. That's the beauty of stirfry - it works when you have no idea what else to do. This happens to me more often than I would like.
Luckily, stirfry is impossible to mess up, and not only did this recipe not suck, it was actually really good. But then again, I think anything with massive quantities of ginger and garlic is failsafe. So next time you're on autopilot, just throw a bunch of stuff in a skillet and let it wok and roll.
Bok in the wok
A caramelized memoir original
Serves 2
2 baby bok choy, sliced in half, vertically
6 ounces mushrooms, chopped
3/4 cup frozen edamame
2 tablespoons sesame oil
1-2 tablespoons minced freshly minced ginger (to taste. I like a lot, so I use closer to 2 tablespoons.)
1-2 tablespoons garlic (to taste. I like a lot, so I use closer to 2 tablespoons.)
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
2 cups cooked rice
1. Cook rice according to package directions. You will want enough rice for two people. I made about two cups cooked.
2. Heat sesame oil in wok over medium heat. Add minced ginger and garlic and stir frequently for about 2 minutes, or until fragrant. Do not let burn.
3. Add bok choy and fry for about 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, add frozen edamame and mushrooms. Stirfry another 5 minutes.
4. Turn off heat and stir in sesame seeds. Serve vegetables over rice and season with crushed red pepper flakes, if desired. (I also drizzled with a little bit of gluten-free soy sauce, as well.)
Bok in the wok
A caramelized memoir original
Serves 2
2 baby bok choy, sliced in half, vertically
6 ounces mushrooms, chopped
3/4 cup frozen edamame
2 tablespoons sesame oil
1-2 tablespoons minced freshly minced ginger (to taste. I like a lot, so I use closer to 2 tablespoons.)
1-2 tablespoons garlic (to taste. I like a lot, so I use closer to 2 tablespoons.)
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
2 cups cooked rice
1. Cook rice according to package directions. You will want enough rice for two people. I made about two cups cooked.
2. Heat sesame oil in wok over medium heat. Add minced ginger and garlic and stir frequently for about 2 minutes, or until fragrant. Do not let burn.
3. Add bok choy and fry for about 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, add frozen edamame and mushrooms. Stirfry another 5 minutes.
4. Turn off heat and stir in sesame seeds. Serve vegetables over rice and season with crushed red pepper flakes, if desired. (I also drizzled with a little bit of gluten-free soy sauce, as well.)
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