An ass-busting week in the field, an all-night Halloween bender followed by an all-day wicked hangover, then I started my woman times yesterday. I have not given less of a shit about blogging since I chopped off the tip my pinky last spring. I haven’t blogged in more than a week, and no one has even noticed! Cue tiniest violin in the world playing my fucking song.
Needless to say, I need a little hug. Sure, the husband is good for a pitying hug when I give him that look (he has a special way that makes you feel comforted, but not patronized, even when you know you’re being an unfuckable hag), but nothing can hug my insides like a bowl of bibimbop.
Bibimbop is the ultimate Korean comfort food – I surmise it’s what Korean moms make their rainy-day kids instead of grilled chee and Campbell’s tomato soup by the fire. A hot bowl of steamed rice top with bits and ends: leftover steak, thinly-sliced and dressed with black vinegar and sesame oil (throw some leftover eggplant in there too to soak up some beefy juice); some sautéed shiitakes (from my shiitake logs) marinated in mirin, sugar, thick soy sauce and black pepper; thinly-sliced cucumber quickled in rice vinegar, sugar, salt and black sesame seeds; some wilted bean sprouts hit with a splash of mirin and sake; yam boiled in soy sauce and sugar; and red bell pepper and onion browned with sesame oil, chile and garlic. I have some leftover gai lan with oyster sauce, throw that on there too. Oh, and you can’t forget a spanky wad of kimchi. Top with an egg fried over easy (stir the raw yolk into the hot rice) and a blob of gochujang. Commence toe-curl.
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