Mystery Stir-Fry

I've taken to calling my various stir-fried (and sorta steamed) concoctions "Mystery Stir-Fry." For years, I've been cooking Mystery Casserole. In the last year or two, we've been eating Mystery Meat.* Now my stir-fry has taken on the characteristics of these mystery dishes.

In this case, I'm simply thinking of how I end up preparing one of the dishes--a little this, a little that, whatever is on hand and might go together more or less well. I plan the dish by going to the freezer to find a meat that will thaw in the time I have available and then, later, to the vegetable bin to see what I (a) have and (b) feel like messing with. Then, once the saute pan (no wok available) is ready and the veggies ready to be covered (a little steaming helps things cook faster when I'm tired of standing in the kitchen), I drag out the spices and herbs and start seasoning. Sometimes I want a curry flavor, sometime soy sauce, sometimes Italian, sometimes it's just a mystery.

Once the dish is done, I can eat it as is or add it to rice. Usually, I am quite satisfied when the "mystery" resolves itself to a delicious dinner.

A recent "Mystery Stir-Fry" came about thusly"

• I had a small package of frozen scallops thawing out. I've never actually cooked scallops at home, so this was sure to be an adventure.
• I tossed the scallops in the pan with a little vegetable oil, added a few stalks of fresh asparagus (which I am only just now learning to cook), and some slices of fresh button mushrooms.
• A little water, sea salt, coarse ground pepper, garlic powder (my irritation with fresh garlic is something for a later post).
• I covered the pan, waited a few minutes for the asparagus to get tender and the scallops to turn opaque.
• Served over brown rice, I spooned on some of the pan juices for the flavor.
  
• Usually I make a mystery dish and then never remember how it is done. I hope I remember this one. It was delicious--and very simple.
  

*This, I should point out, is not a reference to the unknown protein that appears in school cafeterias but to odd--and largely unknown--cuts of meat that we sometimes get at an especially good price. My Prince has occasionally come home with 10 or 20 pounds of excellent pork (sometimes beef) that could have been intended for chops or roasts or who knows what. Either the trainee butcher got to it or the master butcher was hung over. Seriously weird cuts. Seriously challenging to figure out how to prepare it. And more fun that way, to be honest.

Edamame

"Edamame" is the Japanese word for boiled soy beans. Yup, the same stuff that my Louisiana cousins (you thought I only had cousins in Houston? LOL!) grow for animal feed, it would seem. Only yesterday I bought it (Imperial Gourmet All Natural Edamame) in a big box with 8 little (frozen) packages for a little over $7. I am not thinking that that was such a good buy, but, since I've never actually had this food (other than a little taste at a salad bar), I thought it would be worth the investment to try it out.

I thawed out the first package (not enough room in the freezer for all 8). When it was getting time for dinner, I actually read the box. I didn't realize that the pods were not edible. That makes even more of the packaging a waste, since there was really no need for plastic bowls for these beans and, indeed, not too much justification for taking up all that space in shipping and storage.

Looking for more information on this product (there is no "Imperial Gourmet" website that I could find), I did find a web reference on the package to JYC International. J. Y. Chung and his company apparently import these packages directly from China for Sam's, Costco, and others. The website is not well developed, but there is some more information about the history and cultural context of edamame in the Orient and in the States.

I also spent some time trying to figure out the nutritional value of these beans. Not that I doubted that they were good for me. The problem was the packaging. The nutritional panel said that there were 12 servings in the box, but there were only 8 little bowls. In order to get 12 servings, I would have to divide 6 bowls in half and the remaining 2 bowls in sixths and then redistribute the beans from the two bowls to the half-bowls and . . . what a mess!

And then there were the inedible pods. I had to assume that the pods were not included in the nutritional information, but their size (one-, two-, and three-bean pods) and probable random distribution would affect what was left in each bowl after shelling. *snarl*

I ended up ignoring the nutritional information and winging it. The whole problem just aggravated me. Fortunately, after a couple of minutes in the microwave, a little (not nearly as much as the package provided) sea salt, and a dash of soy sauce produced a nice little bowl of beans to snack on. They were labeled as a snack, so I had to try them as a snack. I shelled them all at once instead of squushing them out into my mouth. I seasoned the bowl of beans after shelling. And it was good. A lot of work and worry for a small bowl of beans, but not so bad.

I ate a few beans and liked the crunch and the taste. Nothing overwhelming as far as flavor is concerned, so I figured the bean would play well with others. I dumped the remainder in a stir fry of celery, onion, cabbage from a package of fresh cole slaw, and leftover rice from the previous day. Very nice when served with salmon. The flavors, even with a little garlic and soy sauce did not overwhelm the salmon, so I had to admit that I was proud of my cooking last night.

I will also look for edamame now in other kinds of packaging with clearer nutritional information. It is very likely to become a frequent addition to my vegetable stir-frys.

Review: Captain Tom's Seafood & Oyster Bar

Went to lunch with Big Kid Cousin on Friday. She is one of the Big Kids we little ones all worshiped back in the old days. (There are only about 7 years difference between us; what a difference a few more years can make, hunh?) After some discussion, we decided that we would try Captain Tom's Seafood & Oyster Bar on the East Freeway (13955 East Fwy [I-10], Houston, 713-451-3700).

I have wanted to eat there ever since I saw it being built, but never had the right company. BKC is seriously game for just about anything, and we toddled over after a midday matinee (oh, yes, go see Mamma Mia).

I did expect a somewhat nautical theme, since the building is shaped like a boat. I did not expect for the floor to slant as if we actually were on a boat. And the tables? What tables? The whole "boat" had a bar the went all the way around the outer perimeter of the, well, boat-shaped dining room, a fairly narrow aisle between the stools at the outer bar and those at the inner bar, and an inner bar that surrounded a well where you could watch oysters being shucked, drinks being prepared, and general mayhem.

To get served, you place an order at the cash register near the door, but you don't pay. Then you find yourself a bar stool. We managed to get two empty stools at the part of the perimeter bar that was clearly designed for standing and drinking; it was just a narrow shelf. In a very few minutes, we found two more empty bar stools a little further up the shelf in an area that was more suitable for dining. At the same time our drinks were passed from the inner well from server to fellow customer to us.

As we sipped and continued to rave about the movie, I got my bearings at the "table." A big pile of paper napkins, an open container of horseradish, several bottles of different brands of hot sauce (and ketchup), big bowl of sliced lemons, overflowing basket of saltine crackers. There was likely more, but I was beginning to get a "feel" for our upcoming dining experience.

In another short while, we found two stools at the inner bar and scrambled over. This allowed us to watch the show: three or four guys at a time shucking oysters, making drinks, taking orders on sticky notes, and keeping a lively movement going. We did our part by passing drinks and food over our shoulder to other diners.

When our food arrived (we both ordered Texas Minis), we each had 3 fried shrimp and 2 fried catfish fillets with a decent pile of french fries. Our plates came with little paper cups filled with tartar sauce and red sauce.

I prefer the red sauce, so I, of course, did not have enough. It was easy, however, to use the supplies at hand to mix up more. I only tasted the tartar sauce when everything else was gone and I was just absently stealing BKC's french fries for a nibble. We had to leave so I wouldn't start drinking the stuff; it was delish. As we left, we stopped by the cash register, reminded the fellow there about what we had ordered, and paid. No fuss, no muss.

As for our meal:

• The french fries were so so. If thinner and crisper, I would have liked them better, but Captain Tom would then have had to pay a royalty to McDonald's.
• The shrimp was so so. Butterflied, battered, fried--it had a taste that wasn't all shrimp. That didn't keep me from eating every bit, but I didn't think they were wonderful.
• The catfish was fine. Thin, crisp, battered with cornmeal. There was nothing outstanding there, but they certainly did no harm to the catfish (yes, you can cook catfish badly).

The prices were just fine. The service was friendly and fun. I liked the ambience, including the slanting floor and the challenge it presented for stool sitting. The food is good enough for a return.

Other reviews suggest that we missed a lot by not trying the gumbo or the raw oysters. I imagine that they are correct. I look forward to trying Captain Tom's again--soon.