UnRecipe: Meatballs of Fury

It's a meatball soup -- come on, like you wouldn't have written a title just like that? When the weather turns chilly, I think we all crave a cozy spot on the couch, grab the Snuggie (leopard print, of course), and curl up with a hot bowl of soup and listen to the sound of the pouring rain (or snow)... that will likely not leave our Pacific Northwest skies till April. You think I jest?? While a creamy rich bisque is always elegant, if you're wearing a Snuggie, go rustic with this hearty Meat-a-ball and Vegetable Soup. It will help mitigate the fact you're wearing a backwards robe.

This soup pairs nicely with a dry chardonnay... and a fuzzy Snuggie - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Why is this an UnRecipe? Because yet again, I had a crisper full of random vegetables, plus a summertime favorite, fragrant herb pesto, which carried most of the flavor spotlight. It's clearly a riff on an Italian wedding soup, but I can't call it that because I'm sure a thousand Italian grandmas would argue that this is not the proper way to make this soup. So fuggetaboutit. I'm just sayin' it's a meatball soup that was freakin' tasty -- even those orange-hued Jersey Shore kids would have enjoyed it in between Redbull and vodka shots.

The vegetable miscellany included carrots, celery, bell peppers, zucchini and some chard. The meatball component was a half pound of ground turkey mixed with some of the pesto for a little extra fat, an egg to bind it, and then the meticulous rolling of small, bite-sized meatballs began. The soup with all its softened vegetables were simmering away when I dropped in each little meatball to let it braise in the soup. I let it simmer for a bit until the meat was cooked and the flavors melded together.

I should preface this by saying we have a freezer full of chicken stock. That's half the ease of deciding soup is on the menu. I simmer a rag-tag band of ingredients in a big pot, cool it down, strain it off and pour it into old sour cream or yogurt containers before hitting the deep freeze. Mr. Wasabi bemoans my hoarding of these plastic containers, but they're the best for storing quarts of stock. I can usually get a little over a dozen filled with golden, delicious chicken goodness every stock-making day. The basic ingredient list is chicken bones with saved vegetable scraps and aromatics like garlic, bay leaves and peppercorns. I keep a brown paper sack in the freezer that collects carrot ends, onion tops, and any other vegetable scraps that will add flavor to stock, and when the bag is full, it's like a timer saying Ding! Time to haul out the stockpot. Usually by that time I will at least have one chicken carcass stored in the freezer, preferably two. At the risk of our freezer looking like an undead nightmare, it's been a fairly effective way to literally wring every bit of flavor from our meals -- even the dregs.

Granted, I realize not everyone has the schedule to fit in making their own stock, but if you can find the time, it's so totally worth it, and a pennysaver. On a rainy/snowy Sunday, what else you gonna do? Plus it will make your house smell amazingly delicious! Sure, it can be messy and the way I do it, the process of collecting the ingredients can take a couple of months. But once we started on this self-replenishing stock cycle, it makes UnRecipe nights where I decide, "I want soup," very easy, as I can defrost a couple of the frozen stock containers and it adds richness and flavor that the mass market stuff doesn't quite achieve.

The return of Zucchini Staredown and a glimpse at the behind-the-scenes of soupmaking - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Giving Thanks

This is just a short Thanksgiving Day thank-you post to all the bloggers and supporters who came out on November 20th, to make the Will Bake for Food bake sale a big hit! And a special shout-out to all the fabulous folks I got to chat with, meet for the first time, and old friends I hadn't seen in waaaaay too long. I don't know what gave me a bigger high, the sugar rush from all the sweets or just being around all you amazing, wonderful folks.

Will Bake for Food booty - Photo by Wasabi Prime

This is the last trace of the goodies I was lucky to purchase -- as in, it's just this photo, because the sweets have been thoroughly om-nommed by now. The bake sale was such a runaway hit, I didn't get a chance to buy nearly as much as I wanted because everything sold out so fast!! I only wish I priced my simple sugar cookies and peanut butter cookies a little higher, as I really didn't think my own meager baked good offering would sell out so quickly as well. Well, live and learn -- and expect ticket inflation the next time I do a bake sale!

Much thanks to The Jennys for making this even happen and inspiring everyone with the energy to find more ways to do good, as every little bit helps in the great cosmic shape of things. I think my karma needs some touch-ups, as you can see what I did with my nametag stickers when I got home. Indy the Wonderpupple was double-nametagged in my sugar-addled fit of being totally punchy. Don't worry, we took them off with no harm done to the fuzzy pup. While we couldn't share the sugary sweets with her, we made sure to sneak her a little bit of bacon the next morning. Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!!

Yet another reason Indy hates me - Photos by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: Requiem for a Green Bean

I know, I know -- it's charred, brown and crispy. What the heck is it?? It's a heavy-handed take on the vintage green bean casserole, but instead of just sending the green beans on their merry way into the afterlife with a can of condensed soup, I gave them a Pyrex vesseled departure off to a bacon and  porcini cream sauced Valhalla.

Green bean casserole gone wild - Photo by  Wasabi Prime

The beans were freshly picked from the garden of our friend Wonder Russell's mom, and judging from the timing of this post, this was done a little while back, as there are no freshly picked green beans anywhere right now. Wonder was kind enough to give us her delivery of fresh-grown goods that week, as she was off doing something fabulous, so the Wasabi household was more than happy to take on this garden bounty.  In life, these green beans were a bright, vibrant green hue, happily sitting on a vine -- upon entering the threshhold of Wasabimus Prime, they were promptly accosted with a mix of caramelized onions, crisps of bacon and a mushroom and marsala cream sauce. I think some toasted walnuts were thrown in there too, just for the heck of it. Oh, Wasabi, can't you just let vegetables be themselves?

Garden freshness before being besmirched by bacon - Photo by  Wasabi Prime

This was one of those unhinged UnRecipe test nights, where I had the materials handy, maybe a few glasses of wine, and let all hell break loose upon a simple ingredient like these innocent beans. I toasted a handful of crushed walnuts, rendered some chopped up bacon and reserved the fat, hydrated some dried porcinis and mixed with fresh chopped mushrooms, while a pan slowly caramelized some onions to sweet, porcine fat perfection. I combined these ingredients into the equivalent of a flavorful roundhouse kick to the palate.

Fine, so the casserole didn't cause any bodily harm, but it wasn't bland, that's for sure. If this were the Octagon of flavors, the can of condensed soup and processed onion bits that usually accompanies this somewhat reviled side dish would have had their ingredient-asses handed to them by an ingredient-ass-handing machine. And even though the final roast in the oven killed a lot of the bright green color of the beans and resulted in a rainbow of earthtones, I don't care as this may be a contender for a holiday dinner side dish. Sometimes food doesn't have to be pretty as a picture to be darn-tootin'-tasty.

And on that holiday note, the Prime will of course be celebrating the Giving of Thanks-feast with much eating, napping, and eating again. Let this ridiculously overdone green bean casserole send us all off on our merry Turkeday way, and I hope you have a safe and tasty long weekend!

The slow, delicious corruption of fresh green beans - Photos by  Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Whoopie for Being Thankful

Here's this sugar coma-inducing photo tantalizing you with the hopes of a recipe, and yet... that's not what this post is about. (Sorry -- but I promise if you stay tuned, more details about this Spice Cake Whoopie Pie will be revealed in coming weeks!) Instead, it's the week of Thanksgiving and I wanted to take a  moment to count my Wasabi Blessings on the eve of this holiday full of tasty flightless birds.

If you're thankful, say: WHOOPIEEEE!!!! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I was a flightless bird myself, almost a year ago to the date. Working in the corporate world as an art director, but in furlough, anticipating the next boring corporate ship I'd have to jump upon. Able to enjoy a nice paycheck, but unable to look my creative self in the eye and say, "You've been meandering around the planet for how long and this is all you have to show for yourself? For a Wasabi, you're awfully bland." Ouch. Sad, but true.You make personal sacrifices because it makes sense to do the sensible thing, but after a while you're slow to realize how much of that cubicled existence drives you into a fugue state. You forget that really crucial question, which is, "Where did your happy place go?" I had no lofty dreams behind Wasabi Prime beyond creating a space to put creative efforts in that weren't dictated by work peers or inane meetings about "can we just make the logo bigger?" And the blog manifested into the little lighthouse (blue canary included) to guide through a fog of uncertainty. I was lucky to have precious friends, family and yes, YOU, THE READERS, SUPPORTERS, RANDOM SPAMBOTS who have made a connection and give me inspiration and the reminder that happiness can be as simple as being able to just putter along doing the things that bring us joy.

And so a year later, I've made a go of it, freelancing as a graphic designer, illustrator, food writer and photographer. It isn't easy. I'm full of doubt and concern every month, hoping I hit my goal of just being able to pay the bills. There's been lifestyle changes, to be sure -- insert joke about revoked Fur Coat/Yacht of the Month Club membership here. And yet each penny is worth its ounce of worry, because you become so much more appreciative for every little thing. I realize the greatest luxury is time. I take note of the change of seasons. I walk the dog. I have a more flexible schedule to see family. These are my thankful things, the quiet moments after so many years of noise. While I don't know what the future holds, I am thankful for the ability to find some peace in the present, even if it's as simple as making giant spice cake whoopie pies filled with a ridiculous amount of butter cream filling.

The Zen of Baking. And Butter. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Will Bake for Food (and a good cause)

If you live in the Seattle area and haven't been completely inundated with #bake4food hashtag posts over Twitter, take note that Saturday November 20th, aka Tomorrow Morning, is the Will Bake For Food event, where local food bloggers are gathering at the University Congregational Church in the U-District to sell home-baked goods for the benefit of local charity, Northwest Harvest, which supplies goods to local food banks and programs in our area.

The cake originally said "Will Bake 4 Food," but it was awful. Extra icing coverup. - Photo by Wasabi Prime

There are MANY AWESOME PEOPLE who are donating their time and baking efforts to supporting the fight against hunger. I was just lucky to be asked to join the Blogger Baking Brigade. It's also a food drive, so if you come, bring some canned foods and/or a monetary donation. NW Harvest has a list of things they're especially in need of, namely infant and baby items.

If you come, I would love to meet every one of you and thank you personally for helping to fight the Big Bad of hunger in America. What baked wares will I be offering? Well, have a sneak preview and see what I'll be setting out: Maple-Iced Sugar Cookies and Peanut Butter Chai Cookies.

C is for Cookie and that's damn good enough for me - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Don't worry, I made more than four bags. And yes, they're all packaged like a Martha Stewart OCD Freakazoid because... that's just what I am. So come on out this Saturday, meet and greet the bloggers, get a wicked sugar high, and do it all in the name of a good cause. Hollaback, yo!

Much thanks goes out to the organizers of Will Bake for Food, "The Jennys" -- Jenny Miller of Rainy Day Gal and Jenny Richards of Purple House Dirt. Two fantastic gals who are seeking to change the world, one sugar-sprinkled day at a time. Also big thanks to Luke Burbank of the podcast Too Beautiful to  Live for giving Will Bake for Food a shoutout on his Nov 12th podcast. Download it on iTunes for free or listen on their website and you can hear him eating the bribe of whoopie pies and cookies I sent to his office. Monsieur Burbank, yet again, I'm so sorry I derailed your health with the half-stick of butter that's probably in each gigundo whoopie pie.

See you Saturday! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: The Heat is ON - a Tale of Two Spicy Dishes

Baby, when it's cold outside, all I want to do is eat something warm, cozy and spicy-hot. I recently went through a spicy food craving, but it's funny how "spicy food" isn't a catch-all when it comes to different cuisines. There's specific combinations of foods and heat that enhance the flavor of foods in different ways. Bring on the spice, because it's oh-so-nice!

Who says tofu can't have attitude? - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Mapo tofu is like making chicken noodle soup or meat loaf -- everyone's got a different recipe or method of making it, and there's no absolute correct way of doing it. It's basically ground pork, finely-chopped vegetables that could include onions, mushrooms, carrots or whatever you've got, little cubes of tofu, and a spicy hellfire broth of garlic, ginger, rice wine vinegar, soy sauce, dried peppers or chile paste, simmered in a bit of stock. Sprinkle with green onions to garnish and prepare to sweat it out, baby. It's an easy one-pot meal and it's usually served over rice. My version tends to use ground turkey, just to give my arteries a break, and I go heavy on the vinegar because I like that tangy sourness. I've also done version of this that has chopped up kimchee. You really can put anything in this, as it's a very forgiving dish -- the hearty stews often are. I'm used to having it bright orange, due to the heavy hand of "rooster sauce" sriracha. My latest batch didn't quite turn the alarming orange I'm used to, but a few dashes of extra chili sauce makes it all better and I can always cry in the bathroom later.

Rich and spicy enchiladas - Photo by Wasabi Prime

My other favorite heat is from chipotle in adobo sauce. I don't make these from scratch, I just buy them from the store, and I just love, love, love them. There's usually a can at the ready in my pantry because they're like the spicy little red Swiss Army knife that always saves MacGyver's bacon -- they're great for (almost) everything, yo! The stewed, saucy peppers provide so much rich, deep, smoky heat -- almost sweet at times. They make spicy dishes less knock-your-socks-off hot and more of that satisfying roundness of flavor sensation, like something's been slowly simmered to perfection.

I made enchiladas with the help of the slow cooker, throwing a big, sinewy hunk of pork shoulder into a mix of canned tomatoes and the chipotle peppers and sauce. The pork was covered in a dry spice rub before wading into the slow cooker hot tub time machine and Shazam - when it got to Futuretown, it was shreddable-tender and seasoned in the saucy flavors. The pork was set aside while the tomato/chile sauce was buzzed down in the blender until smooth. I tossed the shredded pork with some cooked down onions and black beans and this was the filling for enchiladas.

When the weather turns cold, these are definitely the things that helps keep me warm from the inside-out. What's your favorite spicy food?

UnRecipe: The (Tastes) Great Pumpkin

Pumpkins. They're not just for pies. Well, duh, of course you know that. They're for carving funny faces in. When smashed, they can inspire 90's indie band name titles. They're also nifty-keen for soups, stews and chili. To help inspire minds already clicking away on Thanksgiving plans, here's some non-dessert uses for our squashy friend, reminding us that The Great Pumpkin isn't just great, he's DELICIOUS.

Hey, there, Pumpkin! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

For those fans of the Peanuts Gang, I apologize to Linus Van Pelt for taking his sacred All Hallows Eve cow, hacking it in twain and roasting the bejeebers out of it. But you can't get a tasty roasted pumpkin without doing all that stuff. My journey to give Peter-Peter Pumpkin-Eater a run for his money started out at the grocery store when I saw a sign that priced small pumpkins at $1.99 a pop. Not per pound, per pumpkin, which was pretty good, since butternut squash was priced that amount by weight. Granted, these weren't sugar pumpkins, the creamier-textured pie-friendly varieties. These were basically destined to be mini jack-o-lanterns, but I hate to see produce go to waste, so I bought three of them and set to work on incorporating them into food.

Pumpkin soup with a unique flavor twist - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Despite their small size, these little guys were stringy buggers. The flesh was compact and definitely more tough than the pumpkins you'd use for pies. But that didn't make them any less edible. Once split, seeded and roasted in the oven till fork-tender, it still had that lightly sweet, fragrant scent that pumpkins have when cooked. Mild in flavor, it becomes a bit like a potato, able to play with a variety of seasonings. Blended smooth in a food processor or blender, it's great for soups. I made my version of pumpkin soup with creamy coconut milk, enhancing the pleasant sweetness of the squash. Adding a few different spices like cardamom, chili powder and nutmeg, it had more of a Southeast Asian flavor to it, versus the typical mild pumpkin soup. I reserved the seeds, dried them out, and roasted with chili powder to make them into a crunchy topping.

For my next trick, I will make a pumpkin disappear into this chili! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

This blog should be renamed as 101 Ways to Eat Chili. It's true, I make it a lot. Just call it the comfy pair of sweatpants and baggy sweater you always throw on after a long day at work -- it's always a good fit. The latest batch of chili ended up getting half a roasted pumpkin mixed in. The soft chunks of the roasted squash sort of melted into the chili and made for a great thickener. You don't really notice the flavor but it adds a nice, rich texture to the chili. I did the same to a chicken curry I made that week and it made the sauce pleasantly thick, plus gave it a pretty orange hue.

I still have a few more pumpkins left from the squash shopping spree. Another nice thing about thick-skinned squash is their shelf life. As long as the skin isn't pierced and no bruising, they can just hang out on your counter for quite a long time. Ultimately, the remainder of the pumpkins will be roasted down and have their mushy goodness frozen for future uses, as I haven't decided on the specifics of how I'll use them. But I'm already envisioning breads and cakes, or a rich, creamy mushroom and pumpkin lasagne.Stay tuned, I'm sure Pumpkin 2: Electric Boogaloo will be a sequel worth blogging about.

Mixed Plate: Hangin' Around in Hilo-Town

I recently took some time off to see my parents in Hawaii before the mad dash of holiday travel began. For this visit, I spent the whole time on the Big Island of Hawaii, in the city of Hilo. It doesn't have the bustling energy of Waikiki or the powder-soft sandy beaches of Maui. It's a city with a deliberate slow pace, its rhythm conducted by the people who have lived there for generations and don't seek out big changes. People like my father grew up there, they often went off-Island for work or school, and in their golden years, they return because it's a place that debunks the saying that you can never go home again. Hilo is a small city built by the plantations, rebuilt from several destructive tsunamis, and continues this day to retain its sense of identity in the currents of changing times. Come along with Wasabi for an insider tour of the big little city of Hilo Town.

Fresh leis at the Hilo Farmers Market - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I didn't grow up in Hilo, but spent a lot of time with family during summers. My childhood memories wander the old streets and neighborhoods, residing like ghosts in time, awaiting my return. When I'm there, it's like entering a cocoon of emotional comfort, locked out from the distractions of the modern world, and the opportunity to reacquaint oneself with one's center. It's a place to slow down, allow the day's events to be dictated by delicious meals, and remember the importance of little things. My little things were mundane things like flossing, taking my vitamins and going for daily runs -- all the stuff that had been driven off by false needs like deadlines and the annoying buzz of email. None of that in the no-wifi-zone of my parents' house, and good riddance.

Getting to Hilo, snapshots of a journey - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The Hawaii I know is the small towns and cities of my parents (my mother's hometown is Makawao on Maui), which for the most part have been untouched by the tourism industry that the state heavily relies on. I admit to a love/hate thing with arriving at Honolulu Airport and seeing the throngs of tourists wearing loud Hawaiian shirts and plastic flower leis, being herded off to a canned, shrink-wrapped view of what the outside perception of Hawaii is. It's not just a place where you sit on a beach and order syrupy cocktails and drink yourself into a sun-baked oblivion. That's like spending hundreds of dollars to shove your head in the sand and miss the fact that you're in one of the most culturally diverse and mystical places you'll ever set foot on in the fifty states. You traveled this far to experience Aloha -- for heaven's sake, let yourself be immersed in it before renting jetskis or buying a cheap snowglobe that was made in Taiwan.

The best views and eats in town from Noris and Kawamoto Store - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Getting to know the heart of Hawaii is spending time in small cities that aren't completely invaded by national chains. Steer clear of the usual morning latte break at Starbucks and cast aside that lunch run to the Golden Arches. Hilo is full of small restaurants and Japanese-style comfort food shops, or okazuya, which all specialize in the local tastes and flavors that people have grown up with. Shoyu chicken, Spam musubi, cone sushi, saimin -- try it all, because it's delicious and been favorites of the locals as far back as the plantation days. My childhood still plays in the low tide waters of the Queen Liliuokalani Park, by the edge of Hilo Bay. I have many scraped knees from slipping on the garden's lava rock ponds while trying to gather bait for fishing trips on my grandpa's boat. We would always bring a giant bento from Kawamoto Store on Kilauea Avenue, to keep our stomachs from grumbling too much so as to scare away the fish. The original family no longer runs the Kawamoto Store, but it continues to make ono kine bento lunches that sell out before noon, so my mother orders lunch early, we pick up our box of goodies, and spend at least one sunny afternoon eating local kine grindz on the Bay. There is no longer my grandfather's boat to ferry us to the open seas, where the salt spray mixes with the food, but eating lunch with my parents, overlooking the water and a volcano sleeping in the distance beneath a cover of clouds, it's absolutely true that good food tastes even better when enjoyed outside. And please remember the SPF.

Visiting those who have passed on - Photos by Wasabi Prime

When I go back to Hilo, it's as much to feed the soul as it is to fill the stomach. While I can only be best described as a jack-Buddhist and Richard Gere will totally achieve Nirvana before I do, I try to be diligent with my parents, to visit the ones who came before us and pay respect to the loved ones who have passed on. Funerary rituals aren't anything new -- everyone has their own rites of observance. In Hawaii, it's as much about co-mingling with the dead as it is with the living; celebrations like O-Bon, the festival for the dead, interjects that need for remembrance and setting a place in one's daily life for those who have departed. It's a weird thing to say, but you'll never see a more colorful and well-kept cemetary than when you visit Hilo, or any other city in the Islands. The dead are never forgotten, and their resting places are a vibrant reminder of the life they led. We did our part to visit the resting places of family and friends, replace the withered flowers with fresh anthurium bought at the farmers market, and wash the black granite family markers so that the sun could dry them to a proper shine. At the risk of having some bad karma chase me down, I took a few photographs in the columbarium where some of my family rests. It's not a somber, depressing place. Instead, it's full of fresh flowers, hanging leis, and private notes from loved ones. It's a place where a little sadness and happiness can come together to mingle with the smell of incense, when the wisps of smoke from the sennenko rise into the air. And best of all -- the matchbooks left near the altar are all usually from Las Vegas. Because even the dead can appreciate a trip to Nevada.

Snacks, quiet morning time, folding gyoza and trips to Longs - excitement abounds! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

If food is love, then I'm very, very well loved when I'm in Hilo. I indulge in snacks I don't regularly get to enjoy, I take advantage of the sale days at Longs for local foodstuffs, and eat the best meals in town, which are always cooked by Mom. I was glad to refamiliarize myself with that magical morning ritual of morning coffee, a pastry of some sort (either a malasada or a crumpet), and the newspaper. Yes, they still make those, and there is nothing quite as heavenly as hearing the birds chirp, the coffeemaker sputter, and feeling the paper between one's hands as you take your time to get settled into the new day.

Tailgate food with Aloha plenty - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I also managed to visit during college football, and more specifically, when the University of Hawaii was playing. Happily the Warriors won their game - Go 'Bows! My parents host game viewings at their house, so UH friends gather, there's plenty of things to graze on and I got to enjoy an old food friend known as the Maui red hotdog. Alarmingly red. Scandalously red. And outstandingly delicious when topped with all the typical hotdog condiments and a hefty sprinkle of smoked pork that the neighbors brought. That addition was my own design, and I highly recommend it. Don't let the bright color scare of you off; they're no different than a crunchy, tight-skinned hotdog from anywhere else, but the bright red makes it distinctively local.

Suffice it to say, Wasabi Mom fed her little Wasabi Prime real, real good - Photos by Wasabi Prime

In between stuffing my face with too much food, I took a very belated visit to the 'Imiloa Astronomy Center of Hawai'i. Don't roll your eyes and think it's just another planetarium or place for space geeks to hang out. This is one of the most unique places to experience the stars and the way humans have felt the influence of the heavens drive one's destiny. It's a museum that is one part science and one part Native Hawaiian culture. And they have cool 3-D movies shown in their planetarium theater.

Visiting 'Imiloa and being blinded by science - Photos by Wasabi Prime

At the risk of sounding like an informercial -- if you're in Hilo, make it a point to visit 'Imiloa. It's part of the University of Hawaii and it's educational in both science and culture, so yes, it's wholesome family fun. It's not like visiting other astronomy museums where it's more about looking up and not looking around to see where the curiosity about the universe emerged. Their exhibits are about enabling the spirit in the heavens and how it brought people to the islands of Hawaii to make it the place it is today. I can't even point to True North, and these guys hopped in a boat and navigated their way to a tiny chain of islands.

Mosaic telling the tale of Hawaiian navigators, one meticulous tile at at a time - Photo by Wasabi Prime

And, as a bonus, 'Imiloa is probably one of the best hidden food gems in town. Their latest vendor who's handling their restaurant is bringing in the crowds for their dinner, so make reservations if you go. We were there for lunch, and their spicy beef noodle soup and signature shrimp were pretty tasty. Science, stars, local culture... and plenty ono salt and pepper shrimp? What more could a person ask for??

Visit 'Imiloa - come for the science, stay for the buffet - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Going to Hilo is never complete without a visit to the Hilo Farmers Market. There's actually several in town, but the largest main one, on the corner of Mamo and Kamehameha in downtown Hilo, is the one most people visit. I like this farmers market because it's a real working market. It's not full of cheesy tourist junk (OK, there's some of that) and the goods aren't outlandishly priced so that makes it impractical for locals to just get their weekly groceries. It's real food, locally grown and priced to sell so that it makes it on someone's dinner table that night. That's it. Nothing fancy. This is the way a farmers market should work, and it gives the national chain grocery stores that barge in their produce underripe and overpriced a run for its money.

Farmers market goodies - musubi, spicy chilis, anthurium and starfruit - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The fruits and vegetables are all things people use on a weekly basis. Staples like green onions, fresh ginger, taro root, papaya and guava. There are uniquely local items like warabi, the tall stalks of baby fiddlehead ferns that grow wild in the Hilo rainforests and are made into salads. Exotic fruit like the fuzzy-skinned rambutan or spiny dragon fruit are everywhere. Funny enough, it's the simplest things that my mom says she misses -- like a crisp apple or pear. Basics like that have to come from the Mainland, where fruit is picked too early and left to ripen in dark holding containers. It's a reminder to be thankful for what we have in our own backyards.

Warabi, rambutan, more anthurium and tart apple bananas - Photos by Wasabi Prime

But I'm still green with envy at the fact that the growing season is pretty much year-round in Hawaii and there's always a treasure trove of fresh goodies at the market. I realize that's probably why they can price out their produce so reasonably. But it doesn't change the fact that I still turn into Gollum, seething about The Precioussss every time I walk the aisles of the farmers market and ogle all the goods.

Your food brain will overload at the Hilo Farmers Market - Photos by Wasabi Prime

If you're still reading this, I applaud your patience. Or perhaps I should just nudge you, as you've probably fallen alseep by now. Hilo is little town that most visitors to Hawaii would probably overlook as boring or too far past its prime, but for me, it's the ideal place to recharge and refocus. Visiting a place like Hilo is a way to experience a genuine part of Hawaii not influenced by fake grass skirts or hokey luaus, and not a paper umbrella drink to be seen. This is a city where good local food and meals are ritual, treasures abound if you're keen to look for them, and the ghosts of the past walk freely among the living. And there's always time for coffee and the morning paper.

Mahalo plenty, Hilo - I will see you soon - Photo by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: Wasabi Two-Step

Consider it a kitchen lesson inspired by ballroom dancing. But without the B-list actors and questionable celeb wannabes. To avoid the temptation of a burger-and-fries run, but stave off the evils of mealtime boredom, I'll make a few things during the week for meals, just like anyone else. But I don't want to be stuck in the prep time vortex on days where there's just not enough time. Introducing... The Wasabi Two-Step -- no line dancing required. It's basic common sense time management: pick one slow-cook, large quantity, leftover-friendly dish for days that are short on fuss time and one quick-cook, minimal prep, smaller portion meal that's enjoyed freshly cooked. It's the slow-slow-quick-quick-slow of getting jiggy with dinnertime.

Chili and Rice is my BFF (Island style, yo) - Photo by Wasabi Prime

No duh, Wasabi -- did it take a rocket scientist to figure that one out? Hell, no! Brain surgeon, maybe. Very possibly an astrophysicist was involved. My last quick-slow cook week involved getting a slow cooker of chili going while I made a simple eat-it-now dinner of trout and garden greens. The chili was the basic UnRecipe of: chunks of beef, canned tomatoes, chopped onions, sausage and black beans. I throw together a mix of seasonings that I have never measured, so it's different every time (I know, bad recipe developer, bad, bad, bad!). There is no method to this madness, just throw it into the crucible that is the almighty crock pot and let it do its thing for a few hours, letting the cooking vessel do all the real work. That's how you get to be the master of your kitchen domain. Delegate to the robot army of appliances and hope they don't overthrow you in a high-voltage political coup.
One of the best things about chili and stews is the fact that it just gets better the longer it sits. It just ages like a fine, meaty wine. I'll make a chili a whole day in advance of when I want to eat it, just so it has more time to just soak in its own flavors, even in the chill of the fridge. Plus chili is one of those monthly go-to's that I still rely on, as my mother did the same. We'd have it at least once every two weeks, since it was so simple to make and it kept our family fed for several days. Poured over rice, of course -- a Hawaii favorite. I know it may seem weird, but just try it and you'll be a convert to chili and rice.

Summertime fish dish - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I know I'm not fooling anyone -- I clearly made this trout dish during the earlier part of summer, as witnessed by the fresh sugar snap peas. And I'm clearly backlogged on my food photos and posts! This was during the heyday of the Wasabi Garden's pea patch, where I was pulling handfuls of pods every day. Never a bad problem to have. I seared some trout filets we had from a friend's fishing trip, seasoned with some garden pesto, and deglazed the pan with some white wine, butter and sauteed whatever seasonal vegetables I had on hand -- peas, late spring onions, anything green. A dish like this felt very of-the-moment, as we were using things that were at their peak, no real plan in mind, just use what's there. Not that seared fish in a wine and butter sauce couldn't be done at any time of the year, but it was a nice way to work with the ingredients at-hand and enjoy them at their seasonal peak.

What about you? What are your favorite ways to balance time and get a meal on the table?

Thank You For Your Support: A Non-Election Message from The Prime

Admit it. You're glad election day is OVER. No more negative ad campaigns literally fighting it out across commercial breaks, no more mailboxes stuffed full of paper mailers from all the candidates, and best of all -- no more endless phone calls that were getting seriously disruptive, calling as late as 8:30 and 9:00 in the evening (for serious, it was that bad). Don't get me wrong, I voted and I encourage everyone to do the same for every election because after all, if you don't vote, you can't rightfully complain and berate the state of affairs later on like a proper curmudgeon. Rock the Vote! Despite having said all that, I, Wasabi Prime (aka, Denise Sakaki - yes, I'm a girl, not a dude), would like to ask for your support on the following issues: Dinner, Breakfast and Dessert. Let the political stumping begin.

It's here! It's here -- so buy twelve copies each!!  Foodista's Best of Food Blogs Cookbook in bookstores now!

If you haven't already put this lil' gem on Santa's Wishlist, get Foodista's Best of Food Blogs Cookbook on that list. Because it's way better than a pony or a BB gun. This cookbook will most certainly not shoot your eye out, and offer a ton of tasty recipes by fellow food bloggers. Win-win, right??

I was truly fortunate and grateful to have one of my own recipes chosen to be published in this book, and it couldn't be in better company. If anything, my Nice Girl's Chicken Puttanesca recipe is probably wondering when a bouncer is going to kick it to the curb after being allowed to mingle amongst such well known food bloggers. As the daunting holiday season of gift-giving arrives, do consider this cookbook as a gift, as there really is a bit of everything for everyone. The recipes have a range of flavors as well as skill levels, plus knowing each recipe was chosen from an individual food blog makes each item special and personal, knowing an individual is attached to each recipe and photo.

I like my eggs runny and my comics funny - check out my breakfast article in newest 425 Magazine

As you balance that teetering stack of Foodista cookbooks in your hands at the check-out counter, don't forget to pass by the magazine rack and see the latest issue of 425 Magazine, if you live in the Pacific Northwest. I was very excited to share some favorite breakfast/brunch locations in the magazine's Flavor column, which was a really fun thing to write and photograph. I won't spoil the surprise of which ones made the cut, but I can say they are all unique locations with their own twist on savory and sweet ways to start the day.

Save room for dessert - a tasty alternate way to enjoy your alcohol in Drink Me Magazine

Speaking of sweet, don't forget to leave room for dessert -- take a peek at the recipe I developed for Drink Me Magazine, for a very rich and flavorful brownie and ice cream made with beer. Their latest issue, titled The Alchemy of Alcohol, is full of interesting articles and is available as a free download on their site. The magazine is available in print in the Bay Area. This was probably one of my most favorite recipes I've worked on so far, as I was really pleased with how the chocolate in the brownie went so well with the smoky coffee flavor of a porter beer, and the maltiness of an ale pairs nicely with the sweetness of a simple ice cream. Beer for dessert? Don't knock it till you try it!

To finish off this post in proper politico style, I send out rounds of kisses to little babies, a round of handshakes to all, a cheesy wink to the camera, and a sincere closing statement of: I thank you for your support!

OMG a Recipe: C'mon Baby, do the Locomoco

I send my Aloha wishes to all who didn't totally ditch this blog after I was gone, like for-evah, the last couple of weeks while I was visiting my family in the Maholla-back state of Hawaii. Have no fear -- the Prime is BACK!! There was sun, sand, surf and I saw none of it because I was too busy stuffing my face with comfort foods. I promise to share more details very soon, but until things get organized, here's a little at-home taste of local cuisine, the Hawaiian equivalent of meatloaf: The Locomoco!

The hell with your pineapple-covered creations, THIS is the taste of Hawaii! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

The Locomoco epitomizes local eats in that it's simple, hearty and plenty salty if you use the Hawaiian rock salt seasoning in the hamburger. You can get this dish in nearly every restaurant, including fast food chains who have adapted their value meal purgatory to local tastes. Yes indeedy, the Golden Arches has it, but I'd just assume get the fried rice version at Hilo's own Kuhio Grille. I've heard different stories about where the Locomoco originated from. I'd like to believe the rumor that it came from the Big Island, right in Hilo Town, inspired by a need to feed the local football team, the Lincoln Wreckers, quickly and without much fuss. I'm of course biased because Hilo is the city where my father is from and he played on that team. But much like the origin stories of Marvel superheroes, the genesis of the Locomoco is subject to change, alternate universes spring up out of nowhere, and before you know it, we're all eating gravy-doused burgers with Adamantium forks growing from our X-Factor mutant hands. And yet I still think the Locomoco would taste just as  good.

So, Wasabi, how the heck do you make a Locomoco? Easy enough because here's the recipe: steamed rice, hamburger, fried egg, brown gravy. Done. That's it. There's been variations using fried rice, different gravy, poached or scrambled egg instead of fried, Portuguese sausage instead of hamburger, or no gravy at all, just a drizzle of shoyu (soy sauce). There's no real "secret ingredient," but if you can get a hold of the Hawaiian seasoning, which is a mix of big chunks of local rock salt and dried peppers, ginger and garlic, it adds a nice extra zing. Plus it's a non-liquid so TSA doesn't hassle you if you're bringing bottles of that stuff back with you. I don't normally use the powdered packet gravy, as the title alone is dubious at best -- "Brown Gravy Mix." What the hell -- do you take one part "brown" and one part "gravy" and mix? Insanity. But who am I to challenge tradition, as that's what a lot of people used for their quickie Locomoco meals, including Wasabi Mom.

I vow to revisit the classic Locomoco and try to make it a little more dressy, maybe with a bit of risotto, some caramelized onions and a poached egg, but still try to remain true to its homeskillet delicious charm. Until then, stay tuned, I promise to share some photos of the recent trip my stomach took on its last visit with the Wasabi Parents for the year. Till then, fry up a hamburger, steam some rice and Locomoco to da max!!

Putting the Loco in Locomoco - Photos by Wasabi Prime