Hello, chefs.
There is no better predictor of me becoming fully engulfed in a project than if I say at any time, “eh, I should wait until next year.” I’m good at many things. Waiting is not one of them. Impatience helps me in a lot of ways—it makes me decisive and good at my job—but it also means that I can’t just let that cute fixer upper on Redfin go. Yesterday I was living a peaceful life in my cute, project-free house, and today I’m sketching renovation plans and budgets for a home I don’t even own.
Thinking about houses—how to design them, how to help them fulfill their potential—is one of those things that I could do for hours without losing steam. Actually, possibly, the only thing. I find flow states sometimes at work, like when I get stuck in a really good spreadsheet, but renovating homes is the thing that I can count on capturing my full attention 100% of the time.
I’ve been thinking a lot about jobs recently. I mean, I’m always thinking about jobs; we all are, right? Capitalism and all that? But specifically, I’ve been thinking about the sense of doom I feel about my professional life in 20 years. I’m 31. In my field (technology startups), it seems like the cutoff for working a “job-job”—a job for which someone has hired you and you receive a paycheck—is around 50. After that, you’re either retired after a big payout or a founder or running a small passion project or consulting. Which is fine, all of that sounds great. But all of that requires that I have a thing, whether it’s a singular good idea or a uniquely-honed skill or reputation, that gives me a leg to stand on. And I just have no idea what that is. It makes me jealous of my architect and doctor siblings.
To mitigate this sense of professional nihilism, I’ve decided that the first step is to simply notice and lean into the things that light me up, even if they’re silly, and to stop calling the time I spend on these things “wastes of time” because they’re not immediately paying off. It’s all in the name of discovering my own taste, which I think is really the root of what I worry about: that after three decades in the workforce, I’ll still be trying to chameleon my way into a job someone will pay me for instead of doing the thing that makes me uniquely me. So yeah, if you need me this weekend, I’ll be making Sketchup renderings of random houses on Redfin.
Another thing that lights me up: cooking generally (of course), but cooking rice, specifically. Crispy, creamy, fluffy, any which way you like it, rice never fails to delight me.
So this week, we have two multi-purpose, rice-based recipes with crossover ingredients and add-ons; make the lettuce wraps earlier in the week and make lots of extra rice. Have the leftovers from each meal bowl-style with extra kimchi and some avocado. The options are truly endless.
-Faith
p.s. For an easy way to save and store the recipes I share every week, save this Notion page. Use the magnifying glass to search.
Kimchi chicken lettuce wraps
Thank you Alexa Weibel for my new favorite big group recipe—this comes together in just a few minutes and you can put dinner guests on the job of carefully separating your lettuce cups. Double, triple, or quadruple, and serve with a cucumber avocado salad.
Cook up a big pot of white rice (I like jasmine).
Heat a skillet over medium-high and add a splash of olive oil. Add a pound of ground chicken, season with salt and pepper, and cook and crumble the meat until browned. Add 3 tbsp hoisin sauce and 1/2 cup kimchi, stir to combine, and cook for another 5 minutes.
Plate up your lettuce wraps, the chicken, a bowl of rice, and a bowl of kimchi and serve!
Turmeric chicken with crispy rice
I can’t even count how many times during dinner Dan said, “wow, how’d you get the rice this crispy?” the first time I made this. Melissa Clark really delivers on her promise, as usual. I made this with some sautéd spinach to break up the crispy crunchy-ness a bit.
Marinate your chicken: Combine 1/4 cup lemon juice, 2 big spoonfuls of minced garlic, 2 tbsp minced ginger (I use the stuff in the bottle), 2 tsp each salt, turmeric, and ground coriander, and a tsp of pepper in a large bowl. Reserve a tablespoon in a small bowl for later.
Add your bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (this marinade covers up to 4, so if you want more, double it up) and let sit for at least 20 minutes.
Preheat your oven to 450 and put a sheet pan in there to heat up.
Either make a pot of rice (you’ll want at least 2 cups cooked, but you can double or triple) or get out your leftovers. Mix the cooked rice with a few drizzles of olive oil, salt, and sliced scallion whites.
Take the pan out of the oven and carefully press the rice into it, making sure not to spread it too thin, as you don’t want it to burn—1/2 inch is about right—leaving a few holes to place your chicken in. Add the chicken, skin side up, to the pan. Drizzle it all with a bit more oil and pop back in the oven.
Cook until chicken is browned on top, about 45 minutes. If you notice the rice burning, add a bit of water to the pan.
To serve, remove the chicken from the pan first, then dab the rice with the reserved marinade and mix together (to pull up all the awesome crispy bits, I usually flip my spatula upside down for a bit more leverage). Top with some scallion greens and cilantro.