I guess the photo tips you off that isn't a typo. And the gardeners out there are probably familiar with a corm. Also known as a bulbotuber, it's a short, swollen underground plant stem that's like a bulb, though when cut in half it appears solid rather than layered. That's what a water chestnut is—the corm of a grass-like sedge that grows in marshes, underwater in the mud. Eleocharis dulcis is native to China and cultivated in flooded paddy fields all over Asia, as well as in warmer stateside climates like California and Florida. You've undoubtedly eaten them at your local Chinese restaurant, maybe even opened a can of them to add to your stir-fries. I've always enjoyed their satisfyingly juicy crunch and slightly bland, sweet flavor, not unlike jícama. But only recently did I try fresh water chestnuts and the scales fell from my eyes. 

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Ain't nothin' going' on but the rain. I don't know what's happening in your neck of the woods but over here it's sopping wet. I'm talking monsoon. (A taste of things to come? Climate change may ultimately convert the Northeast into something like a rain forest.) The first promise of a break in the deluge had me pining for the grill. Nothing says summer like firing up the barbecue, and this beautiful Thai-style grilled chicken from the pages of Hot Sour Salty Sweet is a great way to usher in the season. The flavors are bold and bright, and the dish comes together with minimal effort. If chicken's not your thing, you might try this with firm tofu. A little sticky rice, some crunchy slaw and a spicy-sweet dipping sauce take this meal over the top. And if it's still raining? I ended up making mine under the broiler and so can you.
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Now these are baby carrots. Scarcely wider than a gentleman's ring finger and half again as long. Look for them at your farmers market and for bunches of hot pink French breakfast radishes. Munch on them raw for a sweet, crunchy snack, or roast them together for a light seasonal meal. And if your carrots have vibrant bushy greens attached? Do not toss them into the trash, nor even the compost pile. Turn them into an earthy pesto and enjoy the thrill of vegetarian nose-to-tail cooking.
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Forgive me, friends, for I have sinned. It's been longer than I care to think about since my last confession. You probably imagine me leading a carefree life of bucolic bliss: wandering through the woods foraging for pristine delicacies; plucking tender vegetables from my garden; traveling to exotic places; whipping up epic feasts...and there are certainly times when all this is true. But, oh, there are other times. And those I tend to keep to myself, tamped down in a dark and moldy spot.

Why would you want to know about my fears and foibles and failings? That all smacks of dirty laundry and this is meant to be a place of inspiration. But deep down I know that what we often find most uplifting has nothing to do with perfection and everything to do with the full spectrum of our shared humanity.


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It was a sweltering day in the city yesterday but I had a bee in my bonnet about getting down to Chinatown to score some young ginger. I was so inspired by this post but I despaired of getting my hands on the right ginger, and then a Japanese friend told me the Chinatown street vendors had it. Having lived in close proximity to New York City's Chinatown in my time, I'm quite familiar with how the heat ratchets up its already heady perfume and by midday it was quite ripe. But so were the beautiful tropical fruits!

It's been two years since I was in Asia (remember?) and I yearn to traipse through sultry streets to foreign markets where unknown produce is piled high and the sweet scent of tuberose mingles with those of smoke, sweat and cooking. How amazing it is to feel like a visitor in an exotic land just walking up and down Canal Street. If you've never shopped for mangoes, yellow chives or fresh lychees down there, you must treat yourself to the experience.
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