Uighurs, Tibetans, and Dai, oh my!

Because of all the early dismissals from work due to storms, these past two weeks have been fairly relaxing -- at least those falling after Christmas. This kills my paychecks, but bolsters my sanity, so, at least temporarily, it seems a fair trade. Particularly as my knee seems to get worse, despite not doing any exercise whatsoever.

Even given the haunting, widespread financial worries, Jess and I decided we needed to go on a date. Because of work and family, we almost never get to go on actual dates, and it seemed wise and necessary. Let me tell ya -- it was really nice, indeed. I asked if she would go out with me for another one and she agreed!

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We opted for Filho's Cucina in Groton.

For those of you who haven't been there, it's an unusual place. Once seated, you are expected to get your own napkins and silverware. The Groton Market, an excellent liquor store and the place where I tend to buy my craft beers, is open next door and you can casually grab a bottle or two of your choice, as well as a bottle opener, and return to your table. Filho's Cucina is loud and slightly chaotic, and, from what I'm told, nearly always crowded. Jess and I were forced to sit kitty corner to each other at an oddly situated table. Not so romantic. But the food was excellent and we were as happy as could be, even if I developed a slight crick in my neck from trying to manage conversation and mastication contemporaneously (thems words for George, yo!).

We ordered the antipasto first, and that was zestfully dressed with a good mix of cheeses, spring lettuce, beans, tuna, and cured meats. I wasn't tempted to reach for the pepper -- the dish was well seasoned and didn't require tampering.

I ordered the Linguine Putanesca and Jess the Gemeli con Pollo. My pasta was fresh tasting and the sauce was bolder than expected - it was rich in capers and something that gave it a nice, warm aftertaste -- perhaps a chili oil. I had never tried a gemelli dish before, and that was excellent -- the pasta was so dense and flavorful it almost tasted meatlike. It was thick without tasting leaden.

Even though we were left to do most of the work for ourselves, the staff seemed aware of us and checked to see if we needed anything at appropriate times.

The food was served in an open kitchen, and I sensed a well-deserved, genuine pride on the part of the cooks. The staff sent us off with a sense of good cheer.

It was the best restaurant food I've had in some time. The bill didn't kill us. And I really like being able to shop for my own wine and beer. Next time, I'll be better prepared and will go in for a craft beer instead of the chianti. The chianti wasn't bad, but knowing all those untested, untasted beers stood just ten feet away was a distraction. Next time! And yes, we will be back.

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I'm missing out on what was meant to be my second culinary expedition of the weekend -- to a Brazilian grillhouse in Marlborough -- but I'm down to my last few dollars. I paid a few bills, and for dinner, and then I had to pick up a few half-gallon glass bottles for the second stage of my fermentation process, beginning Tuesday.

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I used the gift certificate Jess's mother gave me and bought Alford and Duguid's Beyond the Great Wall. It's a cook book, with an eye to cultural context, about cuisine produced by non-Han Chinese people: Uighurs, Tibetans, Dai and others.

I heard about the couple who wrote it in a New Yorker article in this year's food issue. Then, I head them interviewed on NPR.

My goal this year is to get a few good cookbooks and to teach myself more about cooking by doing through every recipe in them.

Because of my work in the truck, it's easy for me to hit one asian market for rice vinegar, and another for Sichuan pepppercorns if I can get a better price there. And that's pretty much what I did on Friday, making brief stops to get the basic supplies needed to cook from this book: star anise, sesame oil, sticky rice, leeks, mushrooms and peppers.

I stopped at my mother's house after work and raided the attic for mason jars. Great success! With these I was able to pickle some daikon and hot peppers. The hot peppers I did precisely. For the daikon, I couldn't find the blades for my mandolin, so I thin-sliced the radish, like potato chips, and then cut them into eights, like tiny slices of pizza. The pickle is meant to be stringy, so I failed in this, but was pressed for time and didn't want to spend all afternoon with just that one radish. I placed the jars by the window and there they will sit for the next few days, fermenting in whatever sunlight manages to pass through the gray.

I was hoping to make a flatbread this weekend, but Jess is painting the kitchen and my cooking expedition has been temporarily slowed. Slowed, but still chugging along, unlike the novel, which seems to have halted. I need a good, long day of book reading and street wandering to get my mind back in the necessary mode. So I hope!

Such a delicate craft, that novel writing stuff. I'd rather be driving nails into canvas, but that's my lot, if I there's any lot for me to have.