Stir It Up (8 page)

3 tablespoons chopped chives

1 tablespoon chopped
shado beni
(Mexican
culantro)
or cilantro

2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme

1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano

1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

4 cloves garlic, minced

Process all the ingredients in a food processor until the mixture forms a thick paste. Store in a tightly sealed glass jar in the refrigerator for up to a week.

Makes 1 cup

1/2 cup peeled and shredded jicama

1 carrot, peeled and grated

1/2 bunch watercress, stemmed and chopped roughly

1/4 red chili pepper, minced

1/2 cup rice wine vinegar

2 teaspoons sugar

1. In a medium-size bowl, toss the jicama, carrot, and watercress together so they are well and evenly combined. Set aside.

2. In a smaller bowl, whisk together the chili pepper, rice wine vinegar, and sugar.

3. Pour the dressing over the jicama mixture and toss well. Refrigerate for 20 minutes. Serve on sandwiches or toss with coleslaw. Works well as a condiment on shrimp burger pitas.

Serves 4

I step back and wipe my hands on my side towel. I really want to wipe my sweaty face but that’ll smear the makeup. I blow a loose hair from my eyes, take a deep breath, and wait for directions.

Three production assistants walk up with large trays on which they put each contestant’s dish to bring to the judges.

The judges sample everything at the same time.

After they’ve finished sampling, they nod to Brenda, who says, “Contestants, please step in front of the judges.”

My insides are still pumping.

“I’ll start with He Kyong’s dish,” says Daisy Martinez. “The mushroom salad is lovely, refreshing, light,” she begins. “I love the flavor combination but I might have liked to see it paired with something crisp to counteract its soft texture rather than the soft noodles.”

He Kyong has not stopped smiling.

“I thought it was just delicious!” Sam says. “Good job!”

“I’m not a big mushroom fan,” says Connor. “But I can see how hard you worked on it, so I’m giving it a thumbs-up!”

Daisy Martinez looks over the top of her reading glasses at Connor like she’s about to say something, but keeps it rolling.

“Now, Anjali’s sandwich,” she says. “I thought this was very unusual — in a good way. I enjoyed the flavors and the bread. It’s not quite like a pita.”

“It’s roti,” I say too softly. I clear my throat and try again. “It’s roti; it’s a Trinidadian bread. They make it in Guyana, too. It came from India originally.”

“Well, it’s awesome. I love it,” says Daisy. “And the jicama slaw is really a stroke of genius. You pulled off a complex dish in a short time. I think you are going to be a remarkable young chef. Good job,
mija
!” She smiles real big, and I feel all of me smiling, too.

“Yeah, the roti is delicious!” Sam says.

“It
was
good,” says Connor. “Like a souvlaki sandwich or a falafel or something.”

Daisy Martinez turns to Jimmy.

“So, young man, your pork chops,” she says.

“My grandmother’s,” Jimmy corrects with a small laugh.

“Yes, your grandmother’s,” Daisy says. “They needed a little something….”

Jimmy looks angry.

“Have you considered maybe a bit of hot pepper? Or perhaps some paprika? It needs a little oomph,” she says.

“No, that’s how my grandmother makes it.” Jimmy folds his arms. “Everyone else likes it just as it is.”

“I’m sure they do — what’s better than a meal from a Brooklyn Italian grandma?” says Daisy. “I’m just giving you a suggestion to elevate your chops from like to love.”

“I thought they tasted great!” Sam says.

I bite my lip because I really want to laugh. Sam thinks everything tastes great.

Daisy ignores Sam and goes on. “Jimmy, part of being a chef is being willing to adapt your dish to your guests’ tastes.”

“I love pork chops,” cuts in Connor. “So they were totally cool by me.”

“Thanks, man!” Jimmy says, holding up his fist and punching the air toward Connor.

“Okay, contestants,” calls out Brenda. Apparently the camera is now off. “We’re going to take fifteen. Before your break, though, let’s do the market basket reveal.”

We go back to our areas and stand expectantly while Quade comes back onstage. The camera comes back on, but only for a moment.

“And now it’s time for the market basket challenge!” Quade says to the camera. “Each contestant will have to come up with an original dish using the ingredients here.” He pulls the white cloth off the tray to reveal salmon, rice, and lemons. “Let’s see what these cooking kids come up with after the break!”

The cameras go dark again.

“Fifteen minutes,” Brenda calls.

I untie my apron and walk over to Nyla. She hugs me.

“You’re doing great, Anjali!” she says. “How do you feel?”

“The market basket is making me nervous.”

Nyla squares my shoulders with both her hands. She helps me tuck in my shirt. “Anjali,” she says, “remember, you have a gift for cooking.”

I try to nod, but all I can do is blow more loose hair from my eyes.

“A gift,” Nyla repeats.

When I get back to the kitchen, I open the refrigerator on the set and look at the ingredients I have left. There are lemons and some callaloo leaves. I also think of a way to use my own soy ginger glaze.

At that moment, I get the very thing Nyla’s been saying all along — a gift. I know exactly what I’ll do for the market basket challenge! I like my idea so much that I can’t wait for the second half of the contest to begin. The ingredients play like a song in my mind:
salmon, rice, callaloo, lemons.
When the camera rolls, I’m ready.

I get a small pot of rice going and then fill a pan with water, dice some lemon with the peel, add a bit of sugar, and let the whole thing simmer. While it’s boiling down, I get the salmon under the broiler,
basting it every five minutes with my soy ginger glaze so the flavor is sure to be intense. I set a big pot of salted water on the stove to blanch the callaloo leaves, but the leaves are nowhere. I race over to the refrigerator — maybe I only thought I took them out. But they aren’t there, either.

I look around frantically. All of a sudden that pest Quade is beside me.

“You look like you’re on a mission, Anjali!” he booms in my ear. “What’re you hunting for?” He’s talking to the camera. I ignore him. The cameraman follows me as I pass Jimmy, who is so into chopping up some garlic that his tongue is sticking out of the side of his mouth like some goofy cartoon character.

I go over to He Kyong’s area. She has her back to us and is trying to quickly chop something.

“Aaargh!”
She drops the knife and sucks her finger.

I dash around to the front of her board. There are
my
callaloo leaves, chopped to pieces!

“What do you think you’re doing?” I yell, snatching up what’s left of my callaloo. She shrugs and gives another smile and winks at the camera.

“It’s all about sharing, right, Anjali?” she says. “I thought I’d try something new.”

I look over at Quade, who is watching the whole thing, then at the judges, who are straining to get a better look at what’s going on.

“Stealing is not new,” I hiss.

I stomp back to my station and pull my water and lemon off the stove so it won’t burn. I quickly trim the stems of the remaining callaloo leaves and throw the leaves into the pot. I’m making something that’s never been done before — salmon callaloo sushi rolls.

I make the rolls faster than I’ve made anything ever. There’s a minute to spare when time is called. I look over and see that He Kyong has done some kind of fried rice using chopped salmon and callaloo. She’s garnished the rice with lemon slices. And as far as I can tell, Jimmy just baked the salmon and squeezed lemon and herbs over it, with the rice on the side and a dollop of butter.
Boring.

“Let’s start with the salmon rolls,” says Daisy Martinez. “I thought this was a good effort. Very creative. The final result was a little too sweet — I’d cut
back on the sugar in the marinade. But otherwise good — especially given your, ah, difficulties.” She looks over her glasses at He Kyong.

“Very tasty!” says Sam Vitelli. “I’d only say that it seemed too similar to your other dish — both of them being roll-like thingies. But otherwise, delicious.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of salmon,” says Connor Sebastian. “So this wasn’t for me.”

Even with Connor’s stupid non-comments, I’m feeling confident now. The callaloo sushi rolls are a cool idea. I know this.

Daisy gives her opinion on He Kyong’s fried rice.

“The ginger is a wonderful addition, and I never would have thought of doing a fried rice with salmon. Great job!”

“Totally yummy!” says Sam, smiling at He Kyong.

“I agree,” says Connor. “I could barely taste the salmon!”

Could this guy
get
any stupider?

“Now for Jimmy’s salmon and rice,” says Daisy. “This was a solid dish. Simple but still good. The flavor of this beautiful fresh salmon wasn’t altered, and
that’s a good thing. I would have liked to see you try and stretch a bit with the rice. But good job!”

Jimmy looks happy.

“I loved the herbs! Tasted wonderful!” says Sam.

“Dude, it was practically like a steak,” says Connor. “And who doesn’t like steak?” He laughs at his own joke, and Jimmy laughs, too.

Quade suddenly appears at the end of the judges’ table and faces his own camera. “Who will win this round of
Super Chef Kids
? Tune in next week when the finalists square off in the final elimination round when the star of our next season is crowned!”

He continues to smile widely at the camera until Brenda calls out, “Wrap!”

I thank Nyla, who holds me for a long minute. “Anjali, you’re already a star,” she says, “no matter what happens.”

I’m exhausted when I head out into the snowy street. I realize I’ve left my Island Spice T-shirt at the studio. I’ll keep my coat on over this sloppy yellow shirt, then hide the thing later. Hopefully, no one will notice.

Glancing at my watch, I see it’s nearly noon. Linc will be done with the Stuyvesant test by now. I open my umbrella and walk the three avenues to Union Square so I can grab a subway downtown to Stuyvesant High School in Battery Park.

1/4 cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons sugar or honey
1 tablespoon mirin (sweet rice wine)
1/4 teaspoon five-spice powder
1 pound boneless, skinless salmon
1 teaspoon salt
4 large callaloo leaves, stem ends trimmed
1 small lemon, washed well
1/3 cup water
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seed oil
1/2 cup cooked white rice, preferably sushi rice, prepared according to the package directions

soy sauce and wasabi mustard for condiment (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

2. Whisk the soy sauce, 2 teaspoons of the sugar or honey, mirin, and five-spice powder together.

3. Place the salmon on a cookie sheet or in an oven-safe dish and brush it all over with the soy sauce mixture.

4. Place the salmon in the oven right underneath the top heating element. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes, basting with the soy sauce mixture every five minutes. Remove from the oven when cooked through, and set aside to cool.

5. While the salmon is cooking, fill a large bowl with 2 cups of ice and 3 cups of water. Bring a large pot of water to boil and add the salt. Add the callaloo leaves and cook for 30 seconds. Remove carefully from the hot water and put the leaves in the ice water. When they are cool, about 30 seconds, remove and lay them carefully on folded paper towels.

6. Make the lemon confit: Cut the lemon into 1/4-inch slices. Carefully remove the
seeds and then chop the slices into small chunks. Place the lemon chunks in a small saucepan with the remaining sugar or honey and 1/3 cup of water. Bring the mixture to a boil and then reduce temperature to bring to a low simmer. Simmer for 15 minutes or until almost all the water has evaporated. Set aside to cool.

7. Make the rolls: Brush the callaloo leaves evenly with sesame seed oil and divide the rice equally among the leaves. Carefully smooth the rice evenly over each leaf, taking care not to tear the leaf.

8. Slice the cooled salmon lengthwise into 4 equal pieces. Place the salmon on top of the rice, toward the edge of the leaf. Repeat with all four leaves. Spoon the lemon confit equally onto each piece of salmon, spooning the mixture down the length of the piece of salmon.

9. Roll the leaf carefully away from you as if you are making a cigar. Try to make the roll fairly tight. Repeat with all four rolls.

10. Place the rolls seam side down on a cutting board and slice them into 1-inch-wide pieces. Serve with a side of soy sauce and wasabi mustard, if desired.

Serves 4 to 6

On the Sunday evening right after test day my family sits around our dinner table. It’s rare for us all to be eating together at the same time. Mom has finished studying, and our restaurant is closed because Dad and Anand have repainted the walls, which are still wet.

“Ma, you sure have some sweet hand,” Dad says to Deema between bites of the duck curry Deema’s made for dinner.

We’re all talking at the same time, but about different things. Deema’s telling Dad about her secret for duck curry and rice — the foods that cover our Sunday dinner table. Mom’s talking about her next nursing exam. Anand won’t shut up about a new video game that’s taken him to level seven.

Dishes clink. I’m quiet, thinking while everyone else eats, talks, talks, talks, and fills the room with the spice of our conversation. Mom’s the first to notice that I’m all about downing Deema’s duck curry and not saying anything.

“Anjali, child, who’s taken your tongue?” she asks. I shrug. Then she zings me with a question I don’t want to answer. “Have any of the other kids at school gotten their Stuyvesant results?” My mouth is full of rice. I don’t speak. “Some of the families in the Sovalds’ building have already got their results,” Mom says.