PA Food Society Volume 1

PA

SOCIETY

VOLUME ONE

Dear Reader,

As of now, I’m not even sure in which form I’ll be greeting you. Of course, we hope that it’s through the folds of a glossy magazine that shows off the hard work our newly assembled team has put into this project, but you can never be too sure. Nonetheless, I want to thank you for your interest with the bottom of my heart.

souffle pancakes, sg

michelle yao

PA Food Society didn’t exist until the Spring of 2022, when I was struck by a wonderful idea in the midst of Upper year. While I trudged through my first full year on-campus, barely surviving off instant noodles and once-a-month takeout, my longing for balanced, yet delectable meals hit so hard that I resorted to escapsim as a way to cope—and here we are, months later, with the results of said activities: a full-blown magazine with colored graphics to boot.

I wanted to create a place for my two greatest interests to converge, where I could enjoy food through the imaginative, heartfelt medium that is writing. Maybe you think I’m overstepping, or find it soley unnecessary, but our first issue of this magazine hopes to share and recreate those feelings.

When you read this, I hope you think of home. I hope you think about the way food has shaped your life. I hope that once you put this magazine down, you savor your every bite for the rest of your life.

—Jackie Li, Editor-in-Chief

RECIPES

BY JACKIE LI

Flavors of Family: Grandma

Gitto’s Banana Cake

BY LEILANI GLACE

hen my mom was younger, ba nana cake had been a staple in her childhood; now, almost forty-five years later, it has become a defining element of mine. Passed down from generation to generation, banana cake has been an im portant culinary tradition that is tied to the roots of our family. In Dominica, the main export used to be bananas, so the banana population had always been plentiful where my mother grew up. Because of this abundance and accessibility, a large portion of Dominicans used it in many of their dishes: banana pudding, banana bread, banana fritters, banana por ridge, green banana and fish; the list goes on. Consequently, many of my mom’s fond mem ories of home were inherently tied to the fruit.

I remember my mom reminiscing over how on cer tain days, she and her family would go down to the Hamp stead Estate to learn how to cut and pack bananas; sometimes, nostalgia even brought her back to memories of climbing up trees to get fruits like bananas, guavas, mangos, and coco nuts—one of her favorite child

Whood pastimes. But like a cap sule to the past, the culmination of all her youthful happiness could be compacted within the single bite of one of my favorite family dishes: the banana cake. he dessert is sweet and soft,

start from the drawing board in hopes of creating a flawless ba nana cake that everyone would enjoy.

delicious.

Tdelicate but firm—it bal ances the pliable essence of the fruit with the springy texture of the baked delicacy. The dish is further comple mented by the refreshing flavor of guava jam slathered between layers of cake. My grandmother would always make it for my mother and her siblings when they were young, and like a matrilineal right, my mother eventually began making it for me and my siblings. She aimed to refine this dish to create the perfect banana cake that would suit the tastes of the whole family. Sometimes it would be too sweet for me, but perfect for my sister and brother. But regardless of the amount of ef fort and time she would have to put in, my mom would always

While growing up, this banana cake was a sibling to me, one who grew and evolved alongside me as time passed. This recipe is the product of many rounds of trial and error, the product of my family and my mom’s family that came before me. It is a flavor that is layered with warm banana, guava jam, and family history. That’s what makes it so lovely.

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup butter

• 1 cup sugar

• 3 eggs

• 3 very ripe bananas

• 1 & 1/2 cup flour

• I tsp vanilla essence

• 1/2 tsp cinnamon

• 1 & 1/2 tsp baking powder

• 1/2 tsp baking soda

• 1 tsp grated lemon peel

A o'sBANANA CAKE

DIRECTIONS

1. Cream the butter and sugar in a mixer until fluffy

2. Add the three eggs to the mixture and cream until well incorporated.

3. Peel the three ripe bananas and crush with a fork. Add the banana to the mixture and incorporate.

4. Add the vanilla essence, cinnamon and lemon peel to the mixture. Then mix in the baking soda and baking powder.

5. Pour all the flour and using a fork, gently FOLD the flour into the mixture. Do not over mix.

6. Pour mixture into a greaseproof baking pan (9 in). Bake for 30-40 minutes.

7. Take it out of the oven with care, and be sure to enjoy the food!

courtesy of leilani glace

Flavors of Family: My Mother’s Soy

Sauce Korean Fried Chicken

BY NOEL KIM

As a Korean-Ameri can, I grew up sur rounded by the fragrances and tastes of a distant home. Since they first moved to America, my parents had kept the part of Korean culture they took with them overseas in their spice cabinet, tucked snugly between the traditional sauces and unique ingredients that their culinary creations

Out of all the traditional dishes that our family feasted on, one of my all-time favor ites was and still is soy sauce Korean fried chicken. Even though my parents have roots in very different regions of Korea, they both share the na tional love for fried chicken.

With an addictive crunch and a variety of flavors layered in each bite, no one can

However, after noticing the obvious lack of Korean fried chicken restaurants in Ameri ca (KFC and Chick-Fil-A sim ply could not evoke the same quality of taste), my family decided to take matters into their own hands—they set out to create and perfect a recipe for authentic Korean soy sauce fried chicken.

hat makes Korean soy sauce fried chicken unique is not just its cultur al significance, but also the depth of its flavor; unlike Western-style fried chicken, it has a crispy yet thin layer of skin that makes its texture a perfect mixture of delicate and satisfying crunchiness that leads straight into the moist, tender chicken inside.

W

INGREDIENTS

The recipe also incorporates fruits in its sauce, whose sweetness combined with the tangy, salty soy sauce create a combination of contrasting yet complementing flavors. Further imbuing its taste with a refreshing touch, we include a side of chilled pickled rad ish to top off the perfect fried chicken.

맛있다~〜

Our recipe is unique in its dimensionality—it explores and experiments with a com plex array of flavors to create an unforgettable experience that I hold dear to my heart. For the fond feelings that this dish evokes, my go-to meal at home will always be my mother’s soy sauce fried chicken.

DIRECTIONS

5 cups of soy sauce

2 ½ cups of sugar

1 cup of cooking wine

½ cup of water

½ of an apple

½ of a lemon

½ handful sliced garlic

1 large spring onion

1 piece of kombu

2 fried spicy peppers

Starch powder

Bread crumbs

Pepper

Garlic powder

powder

powder

Vinegar

Sauce Chicken

1. Add the soy sauce, sugar, and water and wait till it boils.

2. Slice the fruit.

3. Mix in the cooking wine when the mixture comes to a boil.

4. Turn off the heat once it comes to a boil again.

5. Add the fruit slices and vegetables, close the lid and wait around a day to cool.

6. After the soy sauce is done cooling, use a strainer to strain the sauce into a container.

1. Season the chicken wings with pepper, onion powder, ginger powder, and garlic powder and marinate for at least 30 minutes.

2. Add starch powder and bread crumbs and fry for 6 minutes.

3. Put oil into a pan and saute the sliced garlic and dried pepper until it creates a pleasant aroma.

4. Add the sauce (1 ½ cup for 10 pounds of chicken).

5. When the sauce begins to boil, add 2 spoonfuls of vinegar (Tip: boil the sauce at first, then lower the heat and simply maintain a warm temperature).

6. Fry the wings a second time for 2 minutes.

7. Move the fried chicken into the saucepan and leave for 1-2 minutes until the sauce completely covers all of the chicken and enjoy!

BY MICHELLE YAO

Flavors of Family: Tasting

rom a young age, my parents had interwoven fragments of Chinese culture and cuisine into my daily life. My mother always prepared our meals with a hint of traditional tastes and spices, light reminders of my dis tant family and heritage that surpris ingly always elicited a deep sense of nostalgia in my heart. It was strange: despite my infrequent contact with the mainland, there were moments where I, caught up in my mother’s sweet songs and the soothing aroma of soy sauce, felt that I had always been and belonged in China. As if while watch ing my mother make dumplings on a cold winter morning, the rest of my family was right there next to us. This semblance of nostalgia lingered on in the Chinese foods that my mother learned to master over the years, im bued in the cold dishes, desserts, and hotpots that our family frequently indulged in. Among those, one recipe of my mother’s that filled me with endless joy and comfort was her 糖醋 排骨—sugar-vinegar ribs.

F

My mother’s recipe for this dish has been refined numerous times throughout my life. After I asked her for the recipe to write this article, she went back and made it all over again, recounting all her culinary expertise into an updated rendition of this dish that would be better than the last. As she explains, the trick to making delicious 糖醋 排骨 is the delicate balance of sugar, soy sauce, and vinegar. When you bite into the ribs, you should taste a col orful explosion of diverse flavors on your tongue: the sauce’s caramelized sugar laying a perfect backdrop for the blend of sour vinegar and nutty soy

sauce. Every time she places a plate of her ribs before me, I am reminded of her tireless efforts in striving for per fection. If anything, it makes me love her signature dish more.

However, 糖醋排骨 has a special place in my heart not just for its flavor; the dish holds personal significance because of what it rep resents and what it has helped me

BY VALENCIA ZHANG 家

糖醋 排骨

Heritage Through (sweet and sour pork Ribs)

so potent and aromatic. When I was eating 糖醋排骨, I was treated like an

sweet and sour pork ribs

realize. Like me,糖醋排骨 was al ways a unique presence in the United States. When I used to bring the ribs to school for lunch, my classmates always glanced at me in disgust—they had never encountered food that was

alien. I had thought that, pressured by embarrassment and fear, my love for the dish and my unique heritage would never be strong enough to overpower my classmates’ petty preju dices.

Yet I soon discovered that this deviation from the norm only made 糖醋排骨 even more indispensable to me in my ele mentary school years, despite what everyone at school would think. My mother’s special recipe, the union of the marinated ribs with the ginger and scallions, and the dish’s inherent taste of home—all these qualities made me recognize that I was unique, but never alone. They empowered me to be proud of and embody my Chinese identity. But most of all, the dish made me realize that the opinions of my classmates meant nothing. They were and will never be any representation of the worth or quality of my mother’s cooking. I will always crave my mother’s 糖醋排骨.

home.

DIRECTIONSINGREDIENTS

• 2 pounds pork ribs

• 2 tablespoons soy sauce

• 2 tablespoons Shaoxing wine (divided)

• 3 tablespoons oil (divided)

• 8 slices of ginger

• 4 scallions (chopped)

• 1 tablespoon white sugar

• 1 tablespoon brown sugar

• 1 tablespoon Chinese black vinegar

• 2 cups water

• A handful of toasted sesame seeds

1. Clean the ribs and pat them dry with a paper towel. Marinate the ribs with 1 tablespoon of soy sauce and 1 tablespoon of Shaoxing wine overnight, if possible. If not, marinate for as long as possible.

2. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a pan over medium heat and brown the ribs on all sides. Set aside to rest.

3. Heat another tablespoon of oil in a wok over medium heat, and cook the ginger and scallions until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Take them out of the wok and set them aside to rest. Add an other tablespoon of oil, and with the wok on low heat, add the brown and white sugar. Stir and let it melt. Add the ribs and coat them with melted sugar. Turn off the heat.

4. Add the second tablespoon of Shaoxing wine, soy sauce, vinegar, water, and the cooked ginger and scallion. Turn up the heat and bring everything to a boil. Then cover and simmer on low heat for 30 minutes, stirring often to prevent sticking or burning. Continue cooking until the sauce is thickened and reaches a sticky consistency.

5. Garnish with white toasted sesame seeds.

6. Dig in!

A

!

Fo r Fu n

HOW TO:

MAKE THE MOST OF YOUR TAKEOUT

BY JACKIE LI AND LEILANI GLACE

The universal Phillips Academy™ culinary experience boils down to two extremes. Either we’re talking about green boxes and Commons plates, or it’s the other end of the spectrum—takeout, which has become what we might call a key part of campus culture. Whether you’re looking for some novelty in your deliveries or need help getting acclimated to the local food scene, this “How To” aspires to be a treasured resource to you. Expand your palette with this season’s selections: the best ways to make the most out of your deliveries and what’s obviously most important: your wallet.

Town Market Andover: Açai Bowl ($13.75)

Sometimes, food can and should be a lux ury—a well-earned dessert after a tough week of midterms is worth the money that’s spent on it. For that once-a-month celebratory treat, we’re recommending Town Market Andover’s Açai Bowl. While this dish isn’t exactly difficult to master when you have all the suitable ingredients, Town Market An dover offers the rare accessibility and size. A mere 2.2 miles away from campus, the shop provides a fairly large serving of an açai berry mix with all your standard toppings—an fruity, accessible delight worth treasuring.

Tokyo Japanese Steakhouse: Yakisoba ($17.95)

Doordash

Grandes Sandwich Plus: Chicken Avocado Panini ($11.50)

This sandwich of grilled chicken breast and refresh ing slices of avocado makes for a filling breakfast,

Soup and overly liquid dishes don’t sound like the best idea for takeout, but no worries—whether you’re missing ramen, udon, or what have you, Tokyo Japanese Steak house has a great alternative to satisfy any and all noodle cravings. Albeit one of the prici er items on this list, their take on yakisoba, Japanese stir-fry noodles, is not only bursting with a aromatic umami (meaning meaty) flavor, but also is a portion large enough to last someone with an average appetite for two meals. Paired with carrots, mushrooms, and the noodles capture all the thrill of eating oily while helping you maintain

Though a staple childhood drink, milk can sometimes be a bit overwhelming. Unrelenting, at least, for the two of us on the Food Society staff that experience some form of general lactose intolerance. Flavored milk, then, provides an unconventional solution to the issue; it satisfies dairy cravings while blending the traditionally “heavy” content of milk with oth er, more palatable flavors. That’s why we recommend going for a unique and subtly flavored Kore an banana milk as a treat. Within the drink, the banana taste makes itself known with an unconven tional, layered sweetness that lingers in your mouth. Coming in smaller, convenient servings, banana milk is the right kind of midday recharge drink that’s low-commitment enough for even those with grudges against milk to enjoy.

12-Pack Binggrae Banana Milk ($8.99)

Unlike the two, meatless quesadillas that a cer tain restaurant likes to serve for $18, Taqueria del Pueblo provides a hefty four for $5 less. And against all odds, you get both quality and quan tity. The warm delicate steak is cooked to perfec tion. There’s nothing that both soothes the tongue and entertains the mouth as much as tender meat encased in a thin, crisp exterior. Every bite of steak is accompanied by an equal portion of springy and supple mozzarella. The warm symphony that is succulent steak, fresh mozzarella and crunchy tortilla is simply incompa rable. All that’s left is for you to take a bite.

Yoshinoya Cooked Beef with Onions ($6.49)

At a certain point, all available instant food starts to look the same. It’s mostly some assortment of noodles and seasoning, brought to life with the power of boiling water. Yet Yoshinoya—famous for their gyudon (Japanese beef rice bowls)—succeeds in bring ing novelty to the scene with its cooked beef packets. All you need for this to work is some serving of rice and around two minutes in a mi crowave. With each serving roughly enough for a fulfilling meal, the Yoshinoya Cooked Beef with Onions is characterized by its distinct flavor. Soft and chewy, the beef and its savory juices are complemented by the slight crunch of the onion slices—a combination so cohesive and bold that it feels fresh out of the pot.

Uber“Gati” is a name that everyone on campus comes to know: downtown Andover would not be the same without the iconic Thai restaurant that is a favorite for catering, dine-in, takeout, and a generally well-priced, authentic Asian meal. Yet even in this immensely popular bistro, there are still many fantastic menu items that—to our surprise—frequently don’t make it onto people’s radars. Beef Massaman Curry, pricey yet undeniably delicious, is one of them. The variety of flavor in the curry is one of its standout points; almost like a marriage be tween Indian and Thai curry, the meal takes spic es from the former and aromatics from the latter to a deeply rich soup decorated by the flavoring of soft potatoes and lean beef. Not to mention, curry is one of those dishes

reflections on durian: the reign of the fruit

BY MICHELLE YAO KING

Durian, or Genus Durio—a fruit whose infamously pungent yet treasured flesh hides away beneath a spiky exterior—stands as possibly the para gon of Southeast Asia’s tropical produce. To the countless residents of Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Indonesia, Vietnam, and the many nearby island regions of sticky heat and relentless sunshine, it is the long-standing king of fruits with a complicated reception. A pillar of South east Asian cuisine that is believed to have originated from either Borneo Island or Malaya, durian can be found and smelled in virtually any context (Siriphanic). While large mounds of soft durian meat are sold daily in hawker stall plastic boxes for a simple, casual treat, the fruit also graces porcelain plates in the form of delicious filling for pricey pastries. With that said, durian proves itself worthy of its title through more than just being versatile; the fruit not only a foundational ingredient of local cuisines, but also an embodiment of the complex flavors and history that conjoins Southeast Asian cultures.

To honestly try and providean streamlined descrip tion of durian’s flavor is akin to asking a reader to offer up the “right” interpretation of any Shakespeare play— through the branching of countless breeds and the palettes of countless tasters, each person has their own understanding of the fruit’s unique profile. Despite this, there are still a few flavors that seem to compromise the universal durian-eating experience that people use as metrics to assess the taste of any given sample of the fruit; they usually consist of sweetness and bitterness, and occasionally, acidity.

Durian’s velvety custard—con taining the fruit’s defining tang—melts easily on the tongue, embodying a surpris ingly pliable texture for produce with such a formidable reputation. All of that golden treasure is enveloped by a thin membrane; in turn, this expanse of vaguely co

coon-shaped flesh also fits snugly into the compartments of its spiky shell. In total, the durian fruit can reach up to 30 centi meters (12 inches) tall and 15 centimeters (6 inches) in diameter. Depending on the variety, the color of durian meat may also vary, ranging anywhere from a pastel yellow to a vibrant vermillion. But for people pursuing high quality durians, the consensus is to usually aim for the fruits that exhibit a well-saturated flesh.

While the durian certainly has a…dynamic shape and taste, the same can

BY MICHELLE YAO

goes on. It’s not uncommon for people to experiment with novel flavors and ingre dients from their environment. They pick up food habits, discover their value, and eventually bring that quirk or ingredient along as they migrate or allow it to pass through trade routes into new lands. Thus begins the process of culinary evolution— as such a staple of Southeast Asian tropical produce, it’s no wonder that the durian had enchanted the region’s ancestors even in the prehistoric times.

Yet this love is not shared by everyone. Globally, the durian may be well-known, but it is not always well-respected. One 19th century written record of the durian—penned by American historian Henry Ad ams—even reads as such: “The durian is, in my opinion, a fraud. I can see nothing to recommend it. Walnuts and very bad cheese, in a soft paste, with a horse-chestnut inside, would be as good.” (Nguyen) Whether it be rooted in some kind of systemic distaste towards Southeast Asian culture or plainly rude dislike, the durian in modern times suffers from no less attack from people all around the world.

be said for its nutritional value. As the king of the fruits, its contents don’t exactly disappoint in their consumption benefits. Rich in calories, fiber content, vitamins, and antitoxins, the durian fruit can and has been served as an entire meal. On the more technical side, these attributes of the durian can aid in reducing cholester ol levels and blood sugar, protecting the body from a myriad of common disorders (Jennings).

Though perfect when served alone, durian’s distinctive taste is also used to enhance an assortment of dishes. Southeast Asia’s love for durian reaches far beyond conceivable boundaries; one trip around the region can introduce you to delicacies such as durian chocolate, durian mochi, durian ice cream—the list

It is with hope that this article will encourage its readers to question and dismantle some of the preju dice they may have associated with durian, and be open to the fruit not only as an ingredient, but as a medium of cul tural exploration. Perhaps you will never accommodate the taste of durian. But we ask you to at least appreciate the history behind the fruit and the value that others have instilled within it.

Sources

Jennings, Kerri-Ann. “Durian Fruit: Smelly but Incredibly Nutritious.” Healthline, Healthline Media, 31 May 2019, https://www.healthline. com/nutrition/durian-fruit.

Nguyen, Thi. “A Tale of Two Fruits: The Colonial History of Durian and Mangosteen.” Saigoneer, 19 May 2018, https://saigoneer.com/saigonfood-culture/13379-a-tale-of-two-fruits-the-colonial-history-of-durianand-mangosteen.

Siriphanich, Jingtair. “Durian (Durio Zibethinus Merr.).” Postharvest Biology and Technology of Tropical and Subtropical Fruits, Woodhead Publishing, 27 Mar. 2014, https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/arti cle/pii/B978184569735850005X.

SUMIAO Hunan Kitchen: SIMPLICITY AND SPICE IN A HEARTWARMING TASTE OF HOME

BY JACKIE LI AND MICHELLE YAO

Cozily tucked away on a street corner of East Cambridge is Sumiao Hunan Kitchen—a restaurant specializing in its blend of unique contemporary tastes and authentic Chinese cuisine. Drawing its inspiration from the Hunan province, home to the coun try’s most fragrant style of spice (“香 辣”), Sumiao's menu demonstrates the restaurant’s masterful creativity and dedication to preserving authen ticity.

As multicolored plates piled up in front of us, we grew aware of the blend of familiar fragrances that waft into the open air: the faintly sweet smell of osmanthus, the salty crisp of fried egg-yolk corn kernels, tingling scent of cabbage doused in rich lard, and more. But this dining experience was more than just a nostalgia-fest. The restaurant uses a magnificent blend of traditional and contemporary tastes to find the perfect intersection between two oth erwise contrasting culinary spheres— all while maintaining a reasonable

medium high ($11-30 per dish) price range.

The first dish served was the restaurant’s signature Sumiao Hot Dry Noodles. It arrived lying in a wide blue porcelain bowl, layers of flat noodles neat ly stacked atop one another, smothered in a thick sesame sauce glistening with a splash of Chinese chili oil.

To finish it off, bursts of chopped chili peppers, spring onions, and minced garlic brighten up the decadent dish.

Rich and nutty yet tingling with spice, the classic, fiery dish skillfully manipulates its varying ingredients to conjure multiple sensations within one sauce.

Another notable dish was Sumiao’s sweet sticky rice cake. On a pristine, oval bowl lay six round cakes, coated in a shimmering glaze of brown sugar sauce topped with specks of osmanthus. Soft and sticky, the mellow sweetness of the sauce melts alongside the glutinous rice in your mouth. This plate shines in its comfort, providing a sense of nos talgic warmth that one and all can resonate with.

The dish that took us most by sur

prise were Suimiao’s scallion pan cakes. On the surface, they were simple: sliced, crispy sheets of dough encased with the fragrance of scal lion oil. Hot to the touch and flaky to a fault, each piece was a unique mosaic of golden charred skin and soft ridges. All of this constitutes a delicious, but nonetheless standard pancake. What drew our attention was a secret ingredient—the dish’s complementary sauce. Scallion pan cakes are typically enjoyed plain, and are even more rarely eaten with sriracha mayonnaise. While the combination may seem unusual, the mayo did wonders for the flavors of the pancake: the refresh ing tangy and bready blend of sauce and dough paved the way for the cascading aftertastes of the scallion oil, allowing each bite to finish with the taste of a satisfying finale. Each dish is a reminder of home in a subtly different way; they taste similar to the spoonfuls of rice cakes and stir-fry vegetables that we grew up with, but they also, impor tantly, know to bring the highlight of dining to the present. As a restaurant re-interpreting traditional Chinese food with modern twists, SUMIAO brilliantly demonstrates how to make their dishes memorable as their own experience—this restaurant undoubt edly scores a 4.5/5.

scallion