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Recipe: mu shu pork

It’s actually mu as in mu shu pork. When I was a kid, I ordered this at Chinese restaurants and my parents would exclaim, “Why do you order this? We make it at home much better!” They were right, but I loved the pancakes. I was also the one who ordered chicken strips at the seafood restaurant. My, how times have changed. I now refuse to order any Chinese dish that I can make at home. I usually go for those plates that make a fantastic mess to prepare… better their kitchen than mine.

Mom’s homemade mu shu pork (and yes, she always used pork – no chicken, no beef, no tofu, no shrimp versions) included homemade pancakes – the mu shu shells. We called them bing and I have no idea if that is the proper Mandarin word or just some nickname my parents made up. I learned that one of the terms of affection they had for me translates into “stinky egg” and not “dearest daughter” as I had assumed, so you will forgive me if I am cautious about littering the page with what I *think* is accurate Mandarin terminology.

lazy chinese girl solution: buy mu shu shells

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Typically, fast food is shunned in our household. Typically. Unless we are driving down I-70 after a big day of free-heeling pow (translates into: telemarking deep, fluffy snow) and are desperate to stoke up on grease, sodium, sugar, and more grease. When it comes to fast food, my personal favorite is the Chick-fil-A sandwich – a chicken sandwich I grew up eating in southern Virginia. It lived in every mall in the South.

Last year, I toured Sydney for four days while Jeremy dorked out with an international team of astronomers – a group that makes even geologists look fashionable – in Alice Springs. I can’t say I have ever experienced a more incredible eating tour of any city, thanks to my dear Kell. We ate some seriously fancy shmancy food. I also had my token spud meatpie at Harry’s Cafe de Wheels in Woolloomooloo. I love saying Woolloomooloo as much as I love typing it. Woolloomooloo, Woolloomooloo, Woolloomooloo. As part of my inaugural effort to eat all of Sydney, Kell and Jerad took me to Oporto to experience what they claim is Australia’s best fast food sandwich: a chicken filet sandwich with a chili ginger sauce (piri piri). Instant love, I tell you.

Imagine my surprise and elation when a package arrived for me a few weeks ago postmarked from Australia. I love my Kell, because she randomly purchases everyday delights from her lovely (and hot – did I tell you how bloody hot it is in Oz?) island continent nation, pops them into a bubble-padded envelope, and ships them to my post office box in the hills. That and she has a wicked hilarious sense of humor. Anyway, this package contained the precious of precious sauces:

oporto’s piri piri sauce

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Recipe: stir-fried chicken and asparagus

You must think we – the dog and I – partied our collective bums off and were lying about in drunken stupor for several days without lifting a finger to post for the joy of it all. How I wish. No, instead dog was fine and I was out with a head cold that was delivered to me by my beloved. Today I have emerged from the fog only to tank a batch of candied lemon peels this morning. Dayquil-induced? Perhaps…

So let’s take care of some business first: seasonal cheer. I do cheer this season because snow mantles the majestic Rocky Mountains – our home… And then we slap on our skis and tele, baby! I digress. Happy New Year to all. I wish you every happiness your heart desires. And an ass ton of home cooked goodies :)

Second: I’m so late in getting this posted…

A huge thanks to the judges and Zorra, the host, for the DMBLGIT November 2007. I won for aesthetics on this entry:

chocolate covered orange peels – a great way to get you swearing by noontime

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