So Cal-Style Taco Rice

Taco rice, also know as takoraisu (タコライス), is a bit of a strange dish. You can trace it back to the 1980s, where outside the American military base in Okinawa, restaurants created their own twist on Tex-Mex. Rather than using a tortilla, rice forms the base of this dish. The easiest way for me to describe it: taco rice is like a taco salad without the giant tortilla bowl. I can imagine cutting out the tortillas made it easier and cheap for the restaurants to make something filling for servicemen.

This dish is so popular in Okinawa, you can even find it at chains like KFC and Yoshinoya periodically as a special item! This is probably the most famous Okinawan food outside of Japan.

I love it because it makes a great dish for bentos and one-dish donburi. It also tickles me how many cultures this food passed through on its journey to invention. Tacos predate the Spanish, a truly indigenous dish of Mexico. The delicious and humble taco then jumped the border to America, who adapted it to the American palate and mass produced it with a hard shell, ground meat, and iceberg lettuce. Then it was brought to Okinawa, where the hard shell was discarded in favor of short grained rice. Mexican-American-Okinawan fusion? Nah, it's just good food, no labels needed.

How do I put my spin on it? By introducing some Southern California style! I couldn't resist adding some fresh guacamole, something you wouldn't see in an Okinawan diner due to the cost of avocados, but here in Orange County, avocados are practically on every dish.

Next, some heat! Taco rice typically is very mild, with no hot sauce at all. I couldn't help tweaking it to fit my palate, and I wanted something that made this dish quintessentially Orange County besides avocados. I grabbed a bottle of Gringo Bandito original hot sauce for the honor. It's made here in Orange County, and was created by the lead singer of the Offspring, Dexter Holland, an Orange County native.

It doesn't get more So Cal-stylish than that! But more than hailing from my home stomping grounds, the Gringo Bandito also brought the dish a nice heat and flavor I needed, without being too salty or vinegary. It's quickly become my go-to sauce for taco night!

My challenge to you: how will you make this dish your own?

Turkey Mole Stacked Enchiladas

I love Thanksgiving. It's my favorite holiday. I can't really pinpoint why it has always been my favorite holiday, even as a kid. It has always been more relaxing than other holidays, even now that help prepare a lot of the meal.

I guess now that I'm grown, I can say I love the fact that it's not religious and therefore very inclusive, not overly commercialized like Christmas or Valentine's Day, and finally I just love to cook.

And possible more than cooking, I love leftovers. It's serious business in my family. My mom hosts Thanksgiving just to get her hands on leftovers.

Sometimes however, you need a little variety in your leftovers. You need a little spice. Most of all, you need something quick and easy because you just did a marathon of cooking and you need a quick meal.

Enter in these leftover turkey mole stacked enchiladas. The flavor of these enchiladas is radically different from most traditional Thanksgiving fare, so it helps break the monotony of leftovers. You could make the mole sauce from scratch, but you just cooked a giant meal for your friends and family, so I think you deserve a tasty and easy meal by buying premade sauce.

Dorilocos: Tostilocos with Doritos

This all started when my coworker shared with me her secret to a happy marriage: on Sundays, she would share a plate of Nacho Cheese Doritos with her husband while they watched television. They always have them served like papitas preparadas, sprinkled in hot sauce and lime juice but with Doritos instead of potato chips. She brought in this snack on a busy day at the office, and offered me a bite.

I was hooked, line and sinker. I have a huge affinity for antojitos, literally "little cravings" or Mexican street food. Except my cravings certainly aren't little by any stretch of the imagination. I've waxed poetic about downtown Los Angeles and the influence of Mexican street food with my L.A. Street Dog post. The same coworker that inspired this recipe was the catalyst for my chile mango candies when she brought in vero mango lollipops. I even used Mexican chocolate and dried chiles for my Christmas gift of caramels.

Now the Doritos are amazingly delicious served the way my coworker introduced me, with lime juice and Valentina hot sauce. But the idea that was planted in my head was something a little more epic: tostilocos with Doritos, or as I named them, Dorilocos.

Tostilocos are a newer antojitos to hit the street food scene. Tostilocos were spawned in border towns like Tijuana around the 1990s, a crazy mixture of salty, sweet, and sour. It's one of those dishes that on paper sound ridiculous, only making sense when you try it yourself. Cucumber, jicama, pickled pork skin (called cueritos), Japanese-style peanuts, hot sauce, chamoy sauce, and even tamarind chewy candies are poured on top of Tostitos chips for a dish that is aptly named loco or "crazy." Here in Orange County, you can find tostilocos at fruit juice shops, or even at swap meets.

Raya at the Ritz-Carlton

Miss Mochi goes fine dining! No seriously, its a rarity. I need a monocle and a top hat, stat.

For my dad's birthday, we went to Raya at the Laguna Niguel Ritz-Carlton, and I couldn't resist sharing everything with you. In fact, I think our waiter thought my mother was crazy, with her huge camera snapping pictures of everything.

Per the official website, "Raya, named “Restaurant of the Year” by Riviera Orange County in July 2011, is a restaurant concept by acclaimed Chef Richard Sandoval. Raya showcases Pan-Latin Coastal Cuisine prepared with sustainable seafood, local produce, natural and organic meat and Chef Richard Sandoval’s signature Latin flavors."

Yes, there were plenty of Latin flavors, but also a lot of Japanese influences too, with togarashi, kabayaki, and even ramen noodles on the menu. The thing that annoyed me the most, being a possibly anal former English major but also a Japanese American was the fact that "shishito peppers" was labeled as "sushito peppers" on the menu. You'd think such a fancy establishment that touts itself as such could afford a fact-checker.

Okay, had to get that off my chest.

Top: Mr. Mochi, Mom, Brother. Bottom: Miss Mochi, Grandma, Dad

Mexican Candy: Chile Mango Candies

Growing up in southern California, I was fortunate enough to be able to experience a myriad of different cultures. Not to mention the best thing about being a self proclaimed mutt is that growing up with so many tastes and textures means that rarely was I squeamish about a new food or cuisine.

So when the ice cream truck rolled down my grandmother's street, my brother and I were just as likely to pick a Mexican sweet as a popsicle. In fact, I was pretty obsessed with the Lucas Acidito Chili Powder, a salty tangy slightly hot powder that came in a little shaker with a duck on it. (Unfortunately, it was tested high for lead content in the late 2000s and subsequently pulled from the U.S. market. Lucas powders have been reformulated, and I bought some for my birthday in September and I can vouch that they are still delicious.)

My inspiration (pic credit Village Voice)

My tastebuds got a flashback when my coworker brought some Mexicandy back from her recent trip to Mexico. She plopped down a big ziplock of Vero Mango chili lollipops, tamarind pulp candy, and mazapan, and I was in heaven. The first lick of the lollipop brought me back to sitting on the curb outside Grandma's house. It's funny how food can do that to you.

So after my most recent foray into Mexicandy appreciation, I decided I had to make my own version. As tasty as those lollipops are, I happen to be lollipop challenged. I either somehow stab myself in the mouth or drool on myself while trying to do something two-handed with a sucker in my mouth. Therefore I wanted to make them without the stupid paper stick.

L.A. Street Dog

Downtown Los Angeles. A sprawling concrete and steel behemoth of a city that replaced the chaparral to become one of the biggest cities in the world.

Smog, sweat, hopes and dreams seem to settle in Los Angeles. Hope for a better life, dreams of making it big on the silver screen. While L.A. shines as a beacon of light for others with its glittery image, most locals know it as the place they toil and trudge day in and day out with the skyscrapers watching overhead.

I know Los Angeles as the place I went to college. Unlike USC, UCLA is in with the glitter. Bordered by Beverly Hills and Bel Air, UCLA resides in the hoity-toity Westwood area. Think Pinkberry and vegan cafes, posh shops and brand name shoes; a cab ride away from Rodeo Drive and Sunset Strip.

I always contrast that with going to my mother to the downtown districts. It is loud, dirty, and wonderful. The flower, fashion, fabric and jewelry districts are filled with people of all walks of life doing business, striking deals, and making friends. My mother would always bring presents for her favorite shopkeepers, who would always be glad to see her and haggle prices. She spent the most time in the fabric district and I loved running my hands along the rows of fabric bolts: silky satin, rough corduroy, and gauzy silk.

Walking down the gritty cracked pavement that still reflected the sun too bright despite the June gloom, I would always steal a peek at the street food. Catering to mostly Latinos, the fruit the carts peddled is always what tempted me the most as a child. The jewel colored spears of fruit seemed to sparkle; watermelon, papaya, and mango sang out to me. I wanted whatever they were sprinkling on the the fruit along with lime and eating with their fingers, the juices running down their fingers and faces. Little did I know it had cayenne pepper, and I probably wouldn't have cared for it too much as a child.

I like my Ghetto Dog without ketchup

Now that I go there as an adult, the fruits aren't as captivating to me as the most infamous L.A. street food, the Street Dog. Also known as Danger Dogs, L.A. Ghetto Dogs, or Dirty Dogs, you can smell them before you spy the cart. A heady mixture of fajitas and bacon wafts over the crowd of shoppers, leading you to a vendor's grill. Thick hot dogs are spirally wrapped in bacon, grilled to crispy juicy perfection, then topped with grilled onions and peppers and your choice of condiments that range from the typical ketchup/mustard to mayo and pico topped with a roasted jalapeno.

Las Amigas: Downtown Los Angeles

My mother takes frequent trips to the Los Angeles Fashion Distict, a sprawling 100 block behemoth of wholesale fabric, clothing, shoes, jewelry, and flowers. Since she sews, she first went there for fabric and notions, but it has become a mecca for her for their amazing flowers as well as clothes. My prom dress was bought there, as well as my graduation lei. The nice thing about the L.A. Fashion District is that you can find something unique that no one shopping at the mall will find. Cash talks, haggling is accepted, and my mother turns into a Baghdad trader, wheeling and dealing.

Once she was shopping for fabric trim and flowers for Mother's Day, she realized she was famished. She asked the shop owner where the closest place to grab a bite was. He pointed directly across the street, to a place she didn't even realize was a restaurant.

Las Amigas is a teeny little shop, with a seating area right across the alley that leads to parking.  It is definitely not the flashiest place, and if you're looking for slick atmosphere you are certainly not going to find it here. I can safely call it "hole in the wall" territory. But she toodled over there anyways and ordered a chile relleno. You know it's ethnic when a Southern California native with a working understanding of espanol has to point to what she wants because they couldn't understand what she wanted. It didn't matter-- it was delicious.

Habanero Gold Quesadilla

I had a lot of questions regarding my Habanero Gold recipe, mainly what to use it on? I think it works delicious on a cheese plate, but I wanted to show you a quick way to use it in an entree.

I used leftover rotisserie chicken to make a quesadilla with some flour tortillas, cheddar cheese, and my jar of Habanero Gold. It lends a spicy sweet kick to the quesadilla that is an unexpected delicious twist! 


Habanero Gold Quesadilla

Simply spread a generous amount of the jelly on one burrito sized tortilla (about 2 ounces) and sprinkle cheese and shredded chicken on top. Place another tortilla on top and pan fry until cheese is melted.

See Also:
Mother's Day: Habanero Gold
New Mexican Style Enchiladas

New Mexican Style Enchiladas

The funny thing about food and culture, is that unlike religion and language, I think food is the last thing someone gives up when moving to America. Most Japanese American kids who have never spoken Japanese or been exposed to Shintoism or Buddhism will happily dig into donburi bowls without realizing that it is something uniquely Japanese. Recently, I realized I have been doing this with traditional New Mexican food.

So while I cook a lot of Japanese, I am also aware that I have been influenced by other cultures as well. My father's side of the family is Native American and Caucasian and originally hail from the state of New Mexico and Oklahoma.