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Quote by Jennifer Weiner

“One giant bowl of perfectly cooked ramen in rich, golden pork broth, densely packed with noodles and with an egg, boiled to just the right degree of softness, perched on top, beneath a sprinkling of bright, crunchy green scallions. She could almost taste it, and feel it in her mouth, the rich glide of egg yolk, the chewy, toothsome tangle of noodles, the sharp bite of scallion, and the comforting warmth of the broth, as salty as the ocean.”

Quote by Jennifer Weiner

Book:That Summer
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Work

That Summer

This book delves into the complexities of young love and the transformative experiences that occur during a pivotal summer in the lives of its characters. more

Author

Jennifer Weiner
Jennifer Weiner

Jennifer Weiner is a renowned American contemporary author, born on March 28, 1970. Her works are known for their humor, wit, and profound social insights, focusing mainly on women's lives, families, and love. Weiner's books have achieved great success in both the literary and mass markets, winning the love of many readers and critics. more

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“Let's do snacks." And snacks, we did. We consumed japchae, stir-fried sweet potato noodles with shredded veggies and beef, that were sweet and savory and wonderfully chewy. Ddukbokki, chewy cylinders of rice cake, soft and springy cakes of sweet ground fish, more veggies, and sweet and spicy gochujang sauce. Soondae, a sausage stuffed with noodles, barley, and pig blood, which I had to say gave me slight pause (and made my Jewish grandmother shriek with terror), but which had the most interesting mix of textures. We cleansed our palates with hobakjuk, a porridge made from glutinous rice and the sweetest steamed pumpkin I'd ever tasted, and finished up with hotteok, sweet, crunchy fried pancakes filled with cinnamon, honey, brown sugar, and peanuts.”

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“The noodle/worm idea was appealing to me. I hadn't made pasta in the competition yet. And noodle kugel was a traditional Jewish dish that held tight to my heart... and could also be made to look extremely disturbing. To be honest, it could be a little gross-looking on the best of days. Noodles submerged in a creamy cheese base, some of them sticking up top to get crispy in the oven. Raisins or other fruits flecking the kugel like little bugs. Maybe I could make the whole thing graveyard-themed. If I was going to make something so rich and heavy and creamy, my other dish should balance it out by being light and savory. And spooky, of course. Maybe organ meats? Chicken feet were extremely scary-looking, maybe with some kind of beet sauce...”

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“I'd used vegetable dyes to color the entire thing a purple so deep it was almost black, the effect of which was fairly unappetizing... but perfect for Halloween, I hoped. I'd turned up the richness of the filling, aiming for a luxurious mouthfeel without being sickening, and made the whole thing more savory, dialing back on the sugar and adding garlic and onion and lots of fresh herbs to cut through the richness. I then rolled bites of it in a potato chip crust and deep-fried them, which sounded bizarre but worked. At least, I thought so. I held my breath as the judges crunched in and chewed thoughtfully. "I love this." Lenore Smith was blunt as always. "It's bizarre, but in all the best ways. The inside is melty and rich and savory, and the outside is perfectly crunchy and salty. It makes me think of an arancini." I was familiar with the fried Italian risotto balls, but I hadn't connected them to my dish until now.”

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“Hmm... the noodles are good. I can taste the flour; their scent and flavor are clear, not masked by the smell of kansui. Ah, this is good broth. You used only chicken to make it. You did well with the condiments, too. You cannot get such a rich flavor unless you use condiments made from pure ingredients. And I see you used Chinese vinegar. Hmm. This barbecued pork is well made. It's Kurobuta from the Kagoshima prefecture that has been fed properly on sweet potatoes. The cucumber was organically grown, without pesticides or even herbicides. This egg is impressive too. Only a chicken that has been properly grass-fed in a healthy environment can lay an egg this good.”

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Book:Ramen and Gyoza
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“I thought you said these were Chinese-style noodles... ...so I was expecting something with pork spareribs on top. The fish dumpling noodles in Hong Kong are good... but I've never seen anything like this in China. What's this on the top?" "Barbecued pork made from Berkshire boar, and jakoten." " 'Jakoten'? " "It's a specialty from the Shikoku prefecture. They're fish cakes made from ground sardines and deep-fried in oil. They're nutritious and taste good too." "Sardines, is it?" "Ah, this barbecued pork is completely different from Chinese-style barbecued pork!" "And this soup?" "I made the stock with pork bones and flying fish yakiboshi... ... and boosted the flavor with some miso and soy sauce. I don't use any MSG in it." "Hmm... the combination of pork bones and yakiboshi isn't something that a Chinese chef would have thought of." "I've never tasted a soup like this before!" "The noodles have no kansui in them. After kneading the dough with eggs... ... I let it rest for a whole week." "Mmm... they're firm and flavorful!" "I haven't seen noodles like this in China either!" "The aged noodles taste so good!”

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Book:Ramen and Gyoza
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“Imagine a neon sign, right there, a bowl of noodles in flashing red. Imagine the scent of roasted pork, and garlic, and sizzling vegetables. Imagine the customers crowding the street; faces rosy in the glow of many lights. Imagine the money coming in; the luck of the family turning. Madame Li's face opened up like a flower in a glass of tea. 'Luck,' she said. I nodded. 'Here. I made these for you.' I pulled out one of my little sample boxes from my bag. Green tea truffles, with darkest chocolate and fleur de sel: a flavor that reminds me somewhat of the rising tide in Normandy, where Maman and I spent a summer once, and where I ate crêpes wrapped in paper, with butter and fried sausages, while the waves crept closer and the gulls circled hopefully overhead.”

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“A funny thing happens when more than one knitter gathers in a public place. A solo knitter, presuming she is a woman, quickly fades into the backdrop like a potted palm or a quietly nursing mother. ... A single knitter is shorthand for "nothing to see here, move on." But when knitters gather, we become incongruously conspicuous. We are a species that other people aren't used to seeing in flocks, like a cluster of Corgis, a dozen Elvis impersonators waiting for the elevator.”

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Book:Knitlandia: A Knitter Sees the World
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