Although I couldn’t attend this past weekend’s Maker Faire, with its inaugural section dedicated to food, I did have a chance to learn a few new tricks for the kitchen.

It’s not a recent phenomenon for cooks to hack their utensils and ingredients—Homo “Handy Man” habilis figured out that meat on the stick thing, Mongol horsemen multitasked by salting and tenderizing and cooking their meat under their saddles, and my mom catches plump frogs with her pasta colander—but the DIY movement has inspired a whole new generation to explore simple, cheap, ingenious ways to accomplish everyday tasks.

Anyone who stocks up on vinegar and baking soda already knows many of the old ways. On the glossier and quirkier end of the spectrum is Ito-ke no Shokutaku (The Ito Family Dinner Table). A wildly popular series, one of those only-in-Japan variety shows in which celebrities demonstrate useful tips contributed by its viewers, it once held the regular attention of nearly 30 percent of households in Japan. Websites, social clubs, and obsessions ensued. These tips are known collectively as urawaza, which deftly applies the word for “unmapped shortcut” to a secret trick.

Local writer Lisa Katayama bundled some of her favorite urawaza into a book, Urazawa: Secret Everyday Tips and Tricks from Japan. My copy (kindly sent to me by Chronicle Books just in time for this posting) has a few pages marked for testing later: drink green tea after a garlicky meal to prevent a stinky mouth, scrubbing with eggshells to remove scorch marks on pots, tucking chile peppers in your socks to keep your toes warm. Others leave me scratching my head, like the suggestion to add olive oil to a glass of beer to reduce its foam; a spoon seems a much more respectful and easy way to remove unwanted head from a well-crafted brew. Still, Urazawa was a quick and fun read as well as a wonderful reminder to think creatively about life’s little challenges.

The interwebs, of course, has many pages dedicated to everyday life-hacking. Googling “food hack” taught me how to peel mangoes quickly and cleanly and how to start a fire with a Coke can and chocolate bar. Here in San Francisco, Mark Powell, a self-described hacker chef of the “anarchist food aesthetic,” has set up his kitchen lab at the Unicorn Precinct XIII in Bernal Heights. Chefs, of course, are famous for their trucs of the trade, though these days, nitrogen tanks and pressure probes seem to be more the thing than paper clips and flame-throwers.

I’ll leave you with a few of my own kitchen tricks, absorbed from my visits with aunties from Missouri to Malaysia.

• After soaking dried tamarind in water, use the strained fruit and fibers to polish your copper pans and bowls.
• Use the edge of a small spoon to peel the crooks and crannies of knobby ginger.
• After harvesting a crop of onions or shallots from your garden, drop them into the legs of clean but run-ridden pantyhose. Knot the hose to separate the bulbs and then hang in a cool, dry place to last throughout the winter. When you need some allium, just snip a knot. The more colorful your hose, the more festive your cellar.
• Clean out the fragrant cardamom and cumin powder from an electric spice grinder by following your garam masala with a few small pieces of bread. The resulting breadcrumbs soak up all the powdered spice. If you’re especially dedicated, you can then use those crumbs in a nice filling or gratin.

May is Asian Pacific American Heritage Month and the Asian American Journalists Association San Francisco Chapter is holding it’s annual fundraiser, East West Eats, An Evening with the Bay Area’s best Asia American chefs. Participating restaurants include Betelnut, Straits Restaurants, Butterfly, Junnoon, Namu, Poleng Lounge, Ponzu, Red Lantern, Three Seasons, Maharani and Hilton San Francisco.

The event is a great opportunity to enjoy dishes as well as wines, from some of the most exciting Bay Area Asian restaurants in a fabulous setting, the San Francisco Ferry Building. The event raises funds for student scholarships for rising young journalists.

What: East West Eats

Cost: Tickets are $100 until April 25th
When: Thursday May 8th, 2008, 7 pm
Where: San Francisco Ferry Building, upstairs
How: Purchase tickets online or send a check, along with contact information to:
ATTN: Johnny Liu
AAJA San Francisco Bay Area Chapter
2062 Arapaho Place
Fremont, CA 94539
Why: I look forward to this event, not only because it supports a good cause, but because it’s not a mad crush like some fundraisers can be. It’s well-organized and the food is really outstanding. This year I’m particularly excited to try the cuisine from Namu and Red Lantern. Last year, the dishes from recently opened contemporary Indian restaurant Junnoon were a big hit.

I’m also a big fan Tim Luym, a Chronicle Rising Star chef. Meals at Poleng Lounge are filled with tantalizing flavors and textures from across Asia including the Philippines, Vietnam, China and India. The small plate menu allows you to try and share more dishes like this one, Beer Braised Oxtail Dumplings.

Beer Braised Oxtail Dumplings

Ingredients:
5 pounds oxtails, cut into 2 inch pieces, fat trimmed
Kosher Salt
5 teaspoons canola oil
1/2 cup Shaoxing Rice Wine or dry sherry
2 cups light beer
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/3 cup soy sauce
2 teaspoons brown sugar
2 ea dried tangerine peel
1 stick cinnamon, 2 inches
2 star anise
2 cloves
2 carrots, peeled
5 lemongrass stalks, bruised
3 scallions cut into 3 inch sections
2 thumbs ginger, peeled (1 thumb sliced into thin matchsticks for garnish)
8 garlic cloves, crushed
2 Thai chili peppers, crushed
1 head napa cabbage, cut in half
10 dried shitake mushrooms, stemmed

Dumpling wrappers (potsticker or wonton work well)
2 Tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 cup water

Filling:
1 1/2 cup green onions, chopped (reserve 1/2 cup for garnish)
2 Tablespoons minced ginger
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 Tablespoons sesame oil

Preparation:
1. Salt oxtails. Brown oxtails on all sides and set aside. Deglaze pan with beer. Place all ingredients except napa cabbage back in pot and add water to slightly cover the oxtails.

2. Braise for 3 hours or until oxtails are fork tender.

3. Add napa cabbage and cook for an additional 10 minutes.

4. Remove napa cabbage and oxtails. Strain and reserve broth and reduce by half.

5. Pick meat off bone and set aside. Roughly chop the napa cabbage and mushrooms.

6. Mix all filling ingredients with meat, cabbage, and mushrooms. Make a slurry from the cornstarch and water.

7. Fill wrappers with 1 1/2 T of dumpling filling, dip your finger in the slurry and and seal edges of the wrapper.

8. In a pot of boiling water, cook dumplings for 3 minutes. Transfer dumplings into a bowl and spoon over reserved liquid. Garnish with chopped scallions and sliced ginger.

Another great Asian culinary event is Taste of Asia at the Asian Art Museum. The Grand Tasting will feature food and beverages from Anzu, Asia de Cuba, Betelnut, Bong Su, Butterfly, Dosa, E&O Trading, Poleng Lounge, Red Lantern, Roy’s, Straits, The Tonga Room, Yank Sing, and Yoshi’s.

Culinary seminars the next day include Culinary Adventures Through Asia with Saveur editor James Oseland, and San Francisco: The Culinary Pioneers with Cecilia Chang, Patricia Unterman and Chuck Williams and a panel discussion on how new and emerging media on the web are changing the world of restaurants.

What: Taste of Asia
Cost: Tickets are $125 for the Grand Tasting and $25 for the Culinary Seminars
When: Grand Tasting Friday April 25th, 7pm Culinary Seminars Saturday April 26th 11am
Where: Asian Art Museum, 200 Larkin St, San Francisco
How: Purchase tickets online
For more information, call 415-581-3788
Why: This is the second year of this popular event and is a great excuse to head to hte museum. Throughout the gala, guests will have full access to the museum’s collection and world-class exhibitions. The experience will also be enhanced by performances including live music and dancing.

With SFIAAF 2008 in full swing, I’ve managed to munch popcorn with yeast for dinner more times than I care to admit during the past few days. And with another week of films ahead, it looks like I’m going to need to restock my supply of dental floss.

Fortunately, it’s been worth it. Over the weekend, two titles that food and film lovers should add to their list were screened to sold-out crowds.

THE KILLING OF A CHINESE COOKIE

Who among us can resist opening a fortune cookie? No matter how jaded or snobby, no matter how much you may hate that dry, tasteless joke of a dessert that sits on your bill after a meal at the Golden Imperial Jade Wok Garden, I dare you to leave behind, unopened and unread, that little strip of paper and its peek into your future.

Like many things we touch in daily life, the beginnings of the humble fortune cookie are murky, but in his documentary, The Killing of a Chinese Cookie, director Derek Shimoda doggedly follows the complex maze of historic claims and counterclaims. Best of all, he collects the amazing stories of thoroughly lovable individuals. Third-generation confectioners and visual artists, judges and lawyers, historians and entrepreneurs, master chefs and hack writers–everyone has an opinion about the fortune cookie. Among the highlights are recollections of the mock trial held in 1983 at the San Francisco Court of Historical Review. Instead of settling the dispute, though, the arguments seemed to have only stirred up the controversy even more.

More recently, The New York Times covered the long-standing debate in a feature about the origins of the ubiquitous cookie. Among the many representing Northern California’s interests are the descendants of Suyeichi Okamura, who in 1906 opened the Benkyodo Company, a confectionary in San Francisco Japantown where you can still buy handmade moochi, sembei and other traditional sweets.

One of the Suyeichi Okamura’s grandsons shows how hot cookies were once slipped into this wooden rack to cool slightly before a fortune was hidden within its crisp folds.

I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much during a documentary while learning about the secrets of the past. With great affection, Shimoda tracks the cookie’s influence from Japan’s sembei treats to Golden Gate Park’s Japanese Tea Garden, though World War II and the rise of Chinatown restaurants, to erotic art and lucky lottery numbers. I won’t reveal any more about the film or the cookie’s history, since I highly recommend this film. The fun of it will be in watching the story unfold for yourself.

A manager at a Los Angeles factory showing an old tin of fortune cookies that he’s resisted opening for posterity’s sake.

The Killing of a Chinese Cookie
Directed by Derek Shimoda
Sunday, March 23
12:00 Noon
Camera Cinemas 12 Downtown
201 South Second Street
San Jose, CA 95113
(408) 998-3300

You can still buy tickets for this weekend’s screening of the film at San Jose’s Camera Cinemas 12. Until then, you can read the memorable fortunes submitted by NTY readers.

I’M A CYBORG, BUT THAT’S OKAY

Many of us have been waiting to see Park Chan-Wook’s latest film on the big screen. If you’ve survived his infamous films, Oldboy and Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, then you’ll already know that Park’s work is not for everyone. But those who love his intense, over-the-top vision or who can’t get enough of Korea’s boundary-breaking films, his latest should not be missed.

I’m a Cyborg, But That’s Okay reveals a new tack in his filmmaking: romantic comedy. In Park’s world, though, this means telling the story of how two psychotics in an insane asylum find love across the distance of alternative realities, group therapy and padded rooms.

Im Su-jeong plays Young-goon, a pale and skittish young woman who refuses to swallow even a single grain of rice, since cyborgs like her cannot digest food. She licks batteries to help recharge her energy, talks to vending machines and flickering lights, and mourns the loss of her daikon-nibbling grandmother. Superstar singer Rain plays a scruffy kleptomaniac, Il-sun, who invents and (in one of my favorite scenes in the film) installs a tiny machine called the Rice Megatron–with lifetime service guaranteed–inside Young-goon to help her survive the rigors of reality.

Any further attempt to explain the plot or introduce the cast of characters will fail miserably.

Viewers who nearly died from cuteness overdose during Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Le Fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain or Michel Gondry’s La Science des Rêves might think twice about seeing this film. You’ll find a bit of relief from romantic sweetness during a few crazed killer-bot scenes, but don’t expect the endless blood or deep anger of Park’s earlier films.

I’m a Cyborg is the ultimate film, however, for fans of surrealism on the screen, well-intentioned massacres, hope flickering in a chaotic world, and uncertain non-endings.

Once a month or so, my mother sends me a box from home filled with food. The last one, timed perfectly for lunar new year, included a batch of rice cakes. Before I even saw them, though, I knew there was treasure buried somewhere deep beneath her homemade peanut brittle, gingery mustard pickles from the last greens in her garden and bags of candied coconut used as packing material. The distinctive green-tea aroma of banana leaves had emerged as soon as the packing tape was cut.

Throughout the tropical sun belt, banana leaves appear as easy, inexpensive, natural, sanitary–and most importantly–delicious packaging. From Mexican tamales to Indian wedding feasts, Malaysian lunches to Vietnamese fast food, the leaves provide pliable wrapping, compostable tableware and a lovely flavoring for steamed or simmered specialties. Throughout Southeast Asia, you’ll see banana-wrapped foods for sale as street food. Food sealed within their layers and then cooked slowly will keep for days without being refrigerated. Traditional foods for the lunar new year period are often cooked in banana leaves, especially for serving during the first three days when families are supposed to be enjoying each other’s company rather than cooking.

For my mom and all my generous, food-loving aunts, banana leaves are perfect for the three-day priority mail period between the Midwest and California.

BUYING BANANA LEAVES

Virtually all Asian and Latino markets with a freezer section will stock banana leaves that have been folded and frozen into large squares. Though more delicate than fresh leaves, they’re easy and convenient to use. If you’re lucky enough to have a pesticide-free tree somewhere in your neighborhood, you might offer a trade in sweet or savory treats for an armful of fresh leaves. Berkeley Bowl often stocks fresh leaves, and there are also numerous mail-order sources for fresh leaves, such as Florida-based Greenearth.

USING BANANA LEAVES IN YOUR KITCHEN

Here are just a few simple suggestions for experimenting with banana leaves:

Golden Rice
Cook long-grain rice, substituting 1/4 to 1/2 cup of the water or stock with coconut milk. Add a few slices of ginger, a cinnamon stick and a pinch of turmeric. After the rice is cooked, stir gently and then prepare small packets of the rice. Steam for 20 minutes and then serve with curries or grilled fish.

Tamales
Rick Bayless offers a recipe for banana-leaf wrapped Red Chile Pork Tamales at his Frontera website. We’re lucky enough to live in an area where tamale dough is available pre-made in Latino markets. Leftover or take-out chicken mole is a most excellent substitute for slow-cooking your own filling. For variety, sprinkle green olives, bell peppers or corn kernels over the filling before enclosing and cooking.

Fish with Red Curry
Small packets are a fun alternative at summer grill parties, while a hot oven is a perfectly decent rainy-weather option for a dramatic yet simple dinner-party dish. Rub sea bass or salmon with a generous amount of prepared Thai red curry paste thinned with a small amount of oil. I prefer using a whole fish and filling its cavity with scallions and lime wedges, but you can easily use steaks or fillets. Wrap a whole fish completely in three layers of banana leaves, alternating the grain of the banana leaf to crisscross from layer to layer for added stability. Individual portions can be wrapped in one large rectangle on a bed of scallions and lime slices. Tie tightly with wet string and then grill over medium high coals or roast at 400 degrees, allowing 10 minutes base time plus 10 minutes for every inch thickness of the banana leaf packets.

Mushrooms with Tomatoes and Ginger
Thinly slice full-flavored mushrooms and toss them with diced tomatoes (drain well if using canned), chopped scallions, grated ginger, cilantro, salt and black pepper. Wrap in individual packets and bake or grill until completely charred on the outside. Serve as a side dish with steamed rice and grilled chicken or pork.

Sweet Rice with Coconut and Peanuts
Cover about 2 cups of sticky rice with 3 inches of water and let soak for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight. Drain well. In a small bowl, mix together 1 cup each of grated coconut and chopped, roasted peanuts. Stir in a few spoonfuls of brown sugar to taste (omit if using pre-sweetened coconut) and then a healthy sprinkling of salt. At the center of a large square of banana leaf, mound 1/4 cup of sticky rice, layer 1/4 cup of the filling, then finish with 1/4 cup more of sticky rice. Fold the leaf in thirds like a letter, then fold in the two side-flaps to overlap at the center; tie securely with string. Steam for one hour, then let cool completely before serving as mid-morning or afternoon snacks with strong tea.

WORKING WITH BANANA LEAVES

If you’re used to Saran wrap or foil, there’s a bit of an adjustment to using natural material that’s irregularly shaped and varied in texture from package to package, leaf to leaf. But banana leaves are immensely fun to work with, and their flavor is far, far superior to plastic or metal. Like crepes, practice with one or two or three first to get into the groove. Each thin package of banana leaves doesn’t look like much, but there’s a lot folded up in there. The leaves are inexpensive enough that you can get an extra one for back-up if it’s your first time working with them.

• A couple of hours in the fridge or a few minutes submerged in very hot water will thaw out frozen leaves. I usually place the leaves in my empty sink, and then pour boiling water over them to clean and soften them. I keep them in the hot water until just before I need them, wiping a few at a time with a cloth to absorb excess moisture. Always wipe in the direction of the grain to prevent splitting the leaves.

• Soak some toothpicks or kitchen string at the same time. I prefer string for larger parcels of food, since the toothpicks can cause more damage then their convenience is worth. If you forget to soak the string or toothpicks, expect to see them char completely if grilled or roasted. If you’re making very small packets, you can use thin strips of the banana leaf itself as ties.

• With a pair of scissors, trim away the hard, center vein of the leaf. Sometimes, I use the hard edges as extra support for larger packages, such as whole fish, but it can cause the leaf to split, so it’s best to remove them until you’re comfortable working with larger leaves. For appearance sake, you might also want to trim away any yellow streaks.

• To repair and reinforce a split leaf, just place it on top of another leaf with its grain running perpendicular.

• When grilling large items, such as a whole fish, use a cookie sheet and two wide spatulas to transfer the package to the rack, to turn it halfway through the cooking period and to remove it when done cooking.

• For easier and more attractive serving, especially on a buffet table, use shears to snip open the packets.

• Banana leaf packets are perfect for preparing ahead of time and cooking later. They hold up to moist fillings and they’re easy to carry to potlucks and parties. Cover with a damp cloth to keep them moist in the fridge. Don’t wait more than three days to cook them, though. They’re organic material, after all, and will start fermenting if left raw too long. Once cooked, though, they and the food they hold last a surprisingly long time even at room temperature. While we have become spoiled by the apparent safety of refrigerators, much of the world still enjoys prepared snacks wrapped securely and deliciously in banana leaves.

I’ve always wondered why street food was not as popular in the US. And then I started trying to understand health codes, land use policy, business permits, tax laws, risk management briefs, and sidewalk obstruction ordinances. I soon lost my appetite. The confusion was enough to make me give up on ever enjoying hot rice cakes while sitting on a plastic stool leaned up against a park wall or discovering the best roasted yams ever at the entrance to a post office.

Farmers’ markets also face similar difficulties in getting started. While some neighbors relish the thought of fresh mesclun within walking distance, others fear backed-up traffic, loss of what little parking they already have, trash littering their yards, and rodents gathering for weekly food fests. Public parks, natural places for impromptu booths, end up having conflicts in mission and charter with profitable enterprise. Market management, like any other business or nonprofit, has its own risks and rewards and crazy ways of doing things. And finally, farmers have enough to keep them busy in their fields without having to face a long drive into the city. Not many can make a living for their families by standing around selling a few carrots here or some organic apples there, while their thin profit margins preclude hiring retail staff.

In many other countries, people figure out how to make use of every bit of space, material and time. While I understand the need for protecting the public, I’d love to see us loosen up just a little bit and support more micro-businesses, more diversity in the food market, and more openness and curiosity in place of fear and nimbyness.

A couple of months ago, my next-door neighbor decided that he didn’t like the shape of my waist-high rosemary bush, the one I tended in that tiny patch of soil cut into the sidewalk in front of my building. So, without asking me, he cut it down to a stub of three inches and then poured so-called river stones over the space. A few weeks later, “someone” planted a begonia where my rosemary bush used to be. Not even a scented begonia, thank you very much. When pressed, my neighbor mentioned words like “property value” and “attractive landscaping.” He’s a new home-owner; I’m one of the last renters still toughing it out on my block. A sprawling, eight-year-old rosemary bush apparently does not have a place in my changing neighborhood.

Fortunately, another old neighbor realized how sad I was and planted a small, three-sprigged sprout of a baby rosemary plant next to the useless begonia. I look forward to watching it grow, and I hope that we both–my rugged herb and I–will still have a place to flourish on this shined-up street.

And about that video above: be sure to watch to the very end to see the magic happen.

On display through the wonderful internets are hundreds upon thousands of photographs of everyday lunches. No soggy PB&J’s here, though. One forum, the Mr. Bento Porn Flickr group, posts their collective creative efforts to make mid-day meals visually appealing, healthful, delicious and, yes, a little easier on the wallet. Their cousin site, Diet Bento, includes impressively low calorie counts for those whose 2008 resolutions (for now at least) include trimming down a little of their own belly fat.

Portable meals have been with us for as long as farmers have trudged off to their fields and soldiers have marched on in war. The Japanese took it a little further, of course. Where other countries preferred banana leaves or woven baskets, Japanese al fresco diners preferred compartmentalized boxes. By the 17th century, bento meals became elaborately arranged celebrations of the full moon and cherry blossoms, a leisurely way to enjoy intermission with friends at the theatre or, like the older form of sushi, essential food for travelers in an age before planes and bullet trains.

Fast forward to the 20th century for aluminum tins, insulated containers, microwaveable cups and, last but not least, those brightly colored, plastic Hello Kitty boxes that accompany kids to school. Adult versions abound, too, although Ichiban Kan’s bento aisle seems pretty well populated by over-twenty-somethings. For those who want to pack with style, <a href=”http://www.plasticashop.com/mm5/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=P&Product_Code=BNTOBX&Category_Code
Designer boxes”>Plastica offers a sleek, stackable set in elegant colors.

Japan is not the only country with distinctive lunch boxes. Vietnam has its aluminum ca men that families carry every morning to the market to pick up breakfast, a different soup in each of the layers prepared exactly as each person prefers. The beautifully painted enamel tins of Malaysia are collectors’ items, while in India, no-nonsense tiffin boxes show wonder less in their appearance than in their amazing daily travels from home to office and back again.

In Japan, there are nearly 500 magazines dedicated to showing parents (read: mothers) how to pack lunches that will entice and impress. The proper order to place in the elements, the proper balance of color and flavors, the proper container for the right food, the secret to making flowers and hamsters and their favorite manga characters out of edible delights: childrens’ meals are no less subject to codification and over-the-top creativity than anything else the Japanese do.

A few English-language books attempt to translate the techniques as well as the art of bento. Some designs would only appeal to an obsessive artist with lots of free time, but many are simple and worth trying. It’s a good way to get the kids involved the night before. Lay out some ingredients, flip to a fun photo and suddenly packing lunch becomes a game. Two titles to check out are Bento Boxes: Japanese Meals on the Go for a how-to guide and Face Food: The Visual Creativity of Japanese Bento Boxes for an aesthetic treatment of the topic.

Another good resource is Biggie’s Lunch in A Box site, where parents will find excellent suggestions for getting their kids off to school with good food. She has hints that acknowledge the need for speed in addition to the desire to make lunch and snacks both healthy and fun.

Like with most good habits, packing meals for lunch requires practice and foresight at first, then as the regimen settles into a comfortable part of your day and week, merely some momentary foresight during weekend shopping and prep. Simple tips include washing and cutting your vegetables ahead of time, freezing food in smaller batches and learning to pack more flavor than bulk.

And if you just want to have a cute lunchbox without the work, well, they do make excellent take-out containers. Buy one with straps or handles to carry to your favorite deli counter and do your part to cut back on disposable ware.

(photo by Kevin Rosseel)

The San Francisco Professional Food Society, the Asia Society and the Chinese Culture Center have all joined forces to tackle a question that lingers, like a greasy smog, over Chinese restaurants:

Why is Chinese food so bad in the US?

Four experts will discuss the topic this coming week in an event geared toward saavy travelers, frustrated diners and nostalgic expats alike. Nicole Mones, author of the novels Lost in Translation as well as the more recent and relevant The Last Chinese Chef, will join Martin Yan, that infamous TV chef, who is now atoning for his can-cook approach by establishing an eponymous Culinary Arts Center in the Middle Kingdom itself. He hopes to teach American chefs how to cook real Chinese food. Rounding out the panel are Albert Cheng, former president of the Chinese Culture Center, and Alexander Ong, chef at Betelnut Restaurant. Olivia Wu will moderate what promises to be a lively discussion.

New York diners have already considered the question more deeply than we easy-going West Coasters. Nina and Tim Zagat’s opinion piece in the New York Times listed access to ingredients and immigration policies as key factors. Mones herself compared Eastern and Western culinary preferences, recipes included, in her attempt to soften the question of why Chinese food in America is still in such a sorry state. Continuing the debate, the New York Daily News suggested that a thriving economy and well-heeled diners in China means chefs can enjoy a better living by staying in their homeland rather than sweating it out. How many creative chefs want to leave their families to sling kung pao and mu shu and yet another order of potstickers when their compatriots appreciate innovative flavors and, more importantly, are willing to pay for them?

If you can’t make the event but would like to taste a bit of the controversy for yourself, visit the SFPFS event announcement: they list several restaurants in San Francisco Chinatown recommended by the speakers.

The Future of Chinese Cuisine in the U.S.
Wednesday, January 23
6:00-8:30 pm
Chinese Culture Center of San Francisco
750 Kearny Street, between Clay and Washington
Third floor, San Francisco Financial District Hilton Hotel
$25 Members (SFPFS or Asia Society)
$35 Guests

Visit the SFPFS website for details and registration.

When an old friend from high school picked me up yesterday in her sparkling rental car, we were still trying to decide between taking in a museum or heading toward some fun shops. And when she finally nixed an afternoon of art and culture, I was more than happy to direct her to one of my favorites, Flight 001 on Hayes.

While she lost herself among their beautiful bags, a smaller but equally enticing travel gadget section kept me busy “researching.” Some things weren’t worth the box they came in — a portable pasta drainer?! — but one item caught my eye. Collapsible chopsticks.

Over the years, I’ve tried my share of portable, reusable chopsticks. My solid metal ones from Korea, engraved with gorgeous birds and encased in silk, are too heavy, too fancy and too difficult to use (note to self: thin metal sticks + noodle soup = stained shirt). All those cute, little plastic ones from Japan aren’t any easier to use and don’t collapse. On the other hand, my lovely white ones obtained from that cult in Macau are simply a pain in the ass to assemble.

So, I was intrigued by the petite size and grown-up look of this set from the folks at Kikkerland (who brought us Moleskine notebooks and Pieter Woudt’s space-bending Spy Clock). These are my favorite travel chopsticks right now for their elegance, lightness of weight, ease of use while actually eating and relatively low price ($12). The plastic case is slim enough to slip into the smallest pocket and offers a protective covering in case you aren’t able to wash your chopsticks until later. I highly recommend a pair of your own, especially if you travel frequently in Asia or if you’re trying to cut back on your use of disposable wooden chopsticks here at home.

For those who’d like to more about waribashi, those disposable chopsticks invented and much loved by the Japanese, here are some quick facts and interesting links exploring the business, art and environmental impact of the ubiquitous, not-so-innocuous little sticks:

• The Waribashi Project is a collaboration between Berkeley artist Donna Ozawa of Berkeley and the Japanese Community & Cultural Center of Northern California. Collecting and washing discarded chopsticks, Ozawa has created art installations in both Japan and California. For one piece, she gathered 15,000 pairs of chopsticks from 11 noodle shops over a period of 12 days.

• The Green Chopsticks Project’s reading room includes a few basic articles. It’s a simple website but a decent start for someone just beginning to explore the issue.

• China, the major producer of waribashi, exports the equivalent of 25 million trees annually so that we can slurp noodles conveniently and swallow sushi hygienically. While bamboo makes up a small number of high-end disposable chopsticks (the bigger, longer ones) most of the break-apart versions come from birch, aspen or poplar trees. Since 2001, universities and entire cities in China have increasingly banned the use of disposable chopsticks. Demand from abroad, however, continues to grow. Last spring, in an effort to slow the deforestation of its country, Beijing imposed a 5% tax on the handy little chopsticks. Japanese businesses, ever adaptive, are now looking to Vietnam and Indonesia for new sources of wood.

• Voice of America takes a softer view of the controversy.

• Ping Mag, an online design magazine based in Tokyo, has an entry on chopsticks with lots of fun photos. NotCot has a great blog entry specifically covering modern versions of portable chopsticks.

• Kim Moser’s color-coded collection of waribashi wrappers offers an aesthetic appreciation for the art of the disposable.

Every year, on the first Sunday of November, tens of thousands of Sikh from across the U.S. and Canada travel to Yuba City for the largest gathering of their extended community in North America. It’s the only public festival I’ve seen in this country where not a single piece of food is sold, yet I still managed to eat and drink for six hours straight.

Food is offered free to all who come: Every single one of the 60,000 Sikh (give or take 20,000 in any given year) who take part in the festival, and the few hundred curious folk like me who show up for the food.

Cauliflower pakoras fresh from the oil.

All along the side of the parade’s path are stations of Sikh men and women rolling roti, frying pakoras, stirring curries, and cutting sweets. Everything served is vegetarian, to be as inclusive as possible. Friendly, young men offer fresh fruit, water, juice, and hot chai to all who walk by — even the Christian evangelists with their placards and flyers.
A line of women roll fill bread with potatoes masala while a two-man team shares dipping and frying duty.

Men from the Punjab region of Northern India were among the earliest immigrants to the Pacific Northwest and then the Central and Imperial Valleys of California. Many of them were Sikh, and their hard work — felling trees, laying rails, and laboring in fields and orchards — helped build the West.

The November festival in Yuba City honors the Sikh scriptures, the Guru Granth Sahib, and the recitation of its words is central to the procession. Large, decorated semi-trucks help pull the priests and musicians through the crowded streets.

This Thursday, I’ll be giving a presentation about the importance of the communal kitchen in the Sikh religion. There’ll be lots more photos, including many archival ones, and we’ll discuss how Asian Americans such as the Sikh navigated strict immigration and alien land laws to establish thriving farms in the Central Valley.

“Sikh Temples and Communal Meals: Religion, Politics and Potluck in California’s Central Valley”
Presented by Thy Tran
Thursday, October 11, 2007
5:15-6:45 pm

Magnes Museum
2911 Russell Street, Berkeley, CA
Contact: Erica J. Peters, Culinary Historians of Northern California
Phone: (650) 938-4936
Email: e-peters-9@alumni.uchicago.edu

The Indian karahi has the same lovely, generous shape as a Chinese wok.

During a discussion this past week about authenticity, someone asked me what I thought about Japanese restaurants run by Koreans, while another person asked my opinion about the Japanese government’s desperate fight around the globe to save sushi.

There are lots of glib answers, but they all skip over some important issues about food and culture. I need to take another week to mull this over.

In the meantime…please enjoy…

In case the YouTube logo gets in the way of the subtitles, here’s a link to the video.