Chinese Food

My darling readers, it's been awhile since I've blogged, mea culpa.

Now to the dish: my mother's Chinese cooking.

The interesting thing about my mother, is that even though she is Swedish, she will cook most any other ethnic cuisine. But she will not be caught dead making Swedish meatballs in brown gravy over noodles, of which, incidentally, I love.

First the beef: tender strips of the finest cut of meat sizzling in a spicy brown gravy, complete with scallions (which I really really like). It is served over brown rice and topped with green beans. This from the farm stand kind, not the frozen variety.

Next, the chicken: the smell of that chicken was so sublime that you would sell your soul, merely to eat some. My nose was in nirvana. Scallions, tomatoes and brown rice were also in this dish, but it was a different sauce.

My mother had learned Chinese Cookery from a book written by two Benedictine nuns who had escaped Communist China. Unfortunately, the book has been lost in the mists of time, ergo, I must seek it out, find it and return it to it's rightful place: my mother's recipe bookshelf.

I have just left the confines of hearth and home to journey to a place far far away: my cousin Danny's house.

Danny is a hoot and plans to take me out for Chinese food. Cheap Chinese food, she says.

Well, just 'cos it's cheap doesn't mean it CAN'T be good, but I will let you, my dear readers know about that!

I remain, still on vacay,

Hilda Stinson, food pornographer extraordinaire