Singapore Street Noodles

My husband found this recipe somewhere online and cooked it with Ben when it was Ben's turn to make supper.  Total keeper recipe!  We all love it. I've tweaked it a bit, and I've also subbed in whatever vegetables and protein I had on hand: the sauce is the important part.

I loved the street food scene in Crazy Rich Asians because I love food.  Eating Singapore Street Noodles gives me a tiny little connection to the food on screen.

To cook this recipe, do all the prep and chopping first.  Once the wok for the stir-frying part gets going, you won't have time to chop anything or untie a jump-rope or check a child's "cleaned" room or supervise screen time.  Or maybe that's just me.

Singapore Street Noodles

Cook and set aside:
16 oz. pasta or rice noodles, skinny strands preferred - toss with 1 Tbsp. sesame oil after cooking to prevent sticking

Mix and set aside:
1/2 cup oyster sauce

2 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. ketchup
1 Tbsp. rice vinegar
2 Tbsp. curry powder
1 tsp. sriracha, or to taste (some of us add more at the table)

Stir fry in large skillet or wok over high heat:
2 Tbsp. oil
8 oz. chopped, raw chicken breast

Add and cook for 2 minutes:
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
1 cup thinly sliced cabbage
1/2 cup julienned carrots
2 tomatoes, diced

Add:
8 oz. peeled raw shrimp
sauce

Stir and cook for 2-3 minutes.
Add cooked noodles - use tongs to lift and toss and combine well for 2-3 minutes.

Turn off heat.  Add:
1/2-1 cup chopped cilantro
4-5 spring onions in 1" lengths

Notes: I don't usually use chicken.  I use more shrimp or sub tofu or mushrooms. Boneless skinless chicken breasts are super-expensive if you buy local, organic chicken; the reasonable price is a whole chicken, and I can't be bothered to skin and bone a breast for this.

The Results

We got back our test results for our backyard soil, and it is contaminated with lead. This has been keeping me up at night, stirred into the dire climate/environmental situation, worried about my family's health and the future. In all the years we have gotten extra blood tests for our children, they have never had elevated lead levels.  So I'm thankful for that.  

But I'm so sad about our soil!  Now that the black walnut tree is gone, I have sun and so much growth in the mint and the berries.  I am going to do a more focused soil test, to see if the beds are all contaminated, or just the area by the house which is typical of old houses with their former lead paint. 

I still have my raised beds with their clean soil that we brought in, so I'm growing edibles there; I may need to rip out my berry bushes and mint - I'm assuming that once a plant has been grown in lead-tainted soil, it doesn't help to transplant to clean soil. 

New this year, I colonized a ledge with two big planters filled with nasturtium seeds.  Little babies are coming up! I will never get over that excitement. I had wanted to plant grapes to climb up our side porch posts, but given our lead situation, I planted a clematis instead.  Perhaps I will become a flower gardener and rely on the excellent farmer's market 2 blocks away for my local produce.  Perhaps that is my silver lining - that I can plant all the flowers, instead of prioritizing for edibles. Poppies! Peonies! A lilac bush!

We planted our little oak tree, free from a city grant program.  It's barely taller than the irises, and I'm trying to be all mature about "planting for future generations" when I just want it to hurry up and give us some sheltering shade. 

Our street tree, a zelkova, is growing tremendously.  I planted some red creeping thyme as a groundcover in the tree well, and now I'm going to add some fencing because I think the neighborhood dogs are peeing in a corner and killing my thyme. 

I feel better for having written this all down.  This helps me have some perspective and cling to the good parts of this story and my life, instead of focusing on the bad and chewing on it to feed despair.  Today is a beautiful, breezy spring day, and I'm going to go out and sow some cilantro seeds in my  raised beds.  Onward!

A Little Vintage Feedsack for a Little Nightie

This vintage feedsack scrap came in the box from Laura - all the sky-blue and coral polka dots, pretty roses, and yet not at all dainty or saccharine. I paired it with this pale blue striped cotton because I do really like light colors in sleep clothes, especially summer ones. 

I was thrilled to find the perfect coral bias tape in my stash, so I used it inside and outside the bodice. The buttons are Beatrix Potter. (side note: I have always adored the name "Jemima Puddleduck" and thought she must have a delightful story, but recently found the book in our Little Free Library and was in for a nasty surprise as the fox gets after her. I'm going to put it out of my mind and think instead on her lovely name.) 

Unfortunately, the age of the feedsack scrap means that it's not holding its seams very well.  I may be patching it up a few times, but it's worth it for Phoebe's pleasure in the nightie and my pleasure in the colors together. She's such a dear.

Lemon Rhubarb Marmalade

I am trying the third time with a rhubarb plant in my back yard.  This year, there is no black walnut tree to poison things, so we shall see. 

In the meantime, I buy rhubarb at market.  And I overbought lemons for Ben's birthday party.  So this recipe from Food in Jars' Preserving by the Pint jumped at me - I've been looking at my preserving with fresh eyes since I read Marisa's new book, The Food in Jars Kitchen.  I've got a rather crowded schedule these days with three freelance projects right on top of each other, but this recipe is done in in flexible stages, so I thought I could pull it off.

I didn't take the time to slice the lemon peel really fine, but fortunately, it cooked down soft and I like it.

The color of this marmalade is so pretty, and I can attest that it is delicious. It pleases me that there's no pectin involved other than what's in the lemon seeds (tied up in cheesecloth when the jam boils) and pith - and the viscous nature of cooked rhubarb.

 
A lovely slice of toast on a chilly spring day with a cup of hot chocolate and a fascinating book to edit.

Phoebe is Four

Phoebe has been celebrated for several days now.  She is just a delight, especially when we wonder aloud who would need a present? Or what are these cupcakes for? And let's have a party just because, right? And when Phoebe remembers all over again that it's her birthday, she bubbles over with joy.

Yes, darling, let's have lots of joy. Let's remember the first few moments of your life, your wondering eyes and calm.  Let's see again the sweetness of your brother and sister meeting you for the first time.

We need this joy to counterbalance, to season, the pain of other dear ones who are sick and dying.  And I do believe there is joy for them on the other side of death, but for us who stay here? Oh, that is hard. Phoebe asked me the other day: "when is Uncle Ron going to come back to life?"  Getting Jesus and Easter and our loved ones all stirred in together.

Joy and pain.  The contrast that makes the patchwork of life.

 Let's look now at the Phoebe's birthday cupcakes - made and decorated by Genevieve, shared with preschool friends and then later with grandparents.  I don't have a good photo of the layer cake I made for Phoebe - it's from Smitten Kitchen Every Day and I highly recommend it.  Easy to make and one of the best-tasting cakes I've had in a long time. It was a yellow cake with fudge icing, and Phoebe requested "pink and purple" ice cream, so we had strawberry and raspberry ice cream to go with it.

Happy, happy birthday, darling girl! Many happy returns!