On Carrot-Eggs: Food as a Connection with Cultural and Ethnic Identity
This article was written by a guest contributor, Josh Sadinsky. Read about Josh here.
“Josh, did you sweep and mop the floors?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Did you set the table?”
“Yes.”
“And clean the bathroom?”
“Yes! Now can I help you cook?”
“Ok, ok, come help me peel these carrots.”
I remember how excited I was in high school to finally be promoted from house cleaner to carrot peeler. Helping my mom prep food in our kitchen brought me a special joy and demystified what I always thought was food-magic. Everything I’ve learned about food and cooking I learned from my mother.
Friday nights were Shabbat dinners, and we would often host guests. The numbers typically averaged: two dozen guests, one dozen screaming and running children, one dog, one challah stolen and eaten by that dog, and two tables so full of food that instead of sitting around a table, we had to sit on the couches and folding chairs and eat off the plates from our laps.
The food for such events may have included, but was most certainly not limited to: fried rice, fried sticky rice, baked salmon, baked mahi-mahi, trout, stir-fried bitter melon with dried fish, Thai curry, Vietnamese spring rolls, ma-poi tofu, sushi, stir-fried eggplant, pea salad, stir- fried cabbage with vinegar and brown sugar, chicken salad, Korean pancakes, challah (courtesy of our family friends), and carrot eggs. The table in the smaller dining room was filled with homemade desserts (courtesy of our other family friends): chocolate cake, pumpkin cheesecake, mochi, ice-cream made by quick freezing fresh cream in liquid nitrogen, fresh fruits, Taiwan peanut candy, and assorted beverages.
I would eat until I collapsed on the couch. My belly would look like a balloon filled with sand, and I would sleep there until the next morning.
The menus varied from week to week since my mom liked to change things up based off what she wanted to cook. But some dishes made it to the table each time. Of those dishes, the most memorable to me was carrot-eggs, or in Chinese, 紅蘿蔔炒蛋. An omelet-like dish where you cook shredded carrots and eggs together, this dish embodies my childhood, warming me up after busy school days on cold clear winter nights – a personal favorite served alongside warm crumbly white rice.
After I went to college, I realized that the cafeteria food did not make me feel great. The food frequently left me feeling bloated, low in energy, and generally unwell. By sophomore year I was off the meal plan entirely, cooking for myself in the tiny shared dorm kitchen. Without realizing it, I cooked all the dishes my mom made for me during my childhood. I felt whole. And it felt good doing things as simple as stir-frying eggplants, green onions, and roots, or frying rice, simmering chicken soup, and of course making carrot-eggs. These dishes became my home away from home for my acclimatizing body, a comfort when much else was uncomfortable.
I developed a personal theory about digestive health – we can more easily digest foods that we’ve eaten during our childhoods because our gut microbiomes have adjusted to those foods. Whether or not this is true, I certainly felt happier when I cooked my mom’s recipes.
More importantly, I feel like this food deeply connects me to my cultural and ethnic Taiwanese heritage. As a biracial child, I can’t help but feel disconnected from my roots at times, especially because my Mandarin skills are so poor. But by cooking traditional dishes my mother learned from her parents, I feel a sense of reclaiming my cultural and ethnic identity. I can connect to Taiwan through the collective conscience of flavor, texture, and community that comes by sharing food with friends and family. My current housemate is Taiwanese, and it brings me great joy to slurp High Mountain Green Tea with her out of my ceramic cups and teapot gifted to me by my aunts and uncles. Even the intense bitterness of the bitter melon brings back fond memories of those overstuffed Friday nights. Flavors that I took for granted as a child like ginger, garlic, and soy sauce now define my loving relationship with food. And most importantly, my relationship with my mother.
Carrot-Eggs
Ingredients:
3 Tbsp Neutral Oil : we recommend Canola Oil, Avocado Oil, or Peanut Oil
3 Medium Carrots
5 Eggs
Salt
1/4 tsp of Brown Sugar : (optional)
Directions:
Peel all of the carrots then shred them. If a hand-held shredder is not available, use the side of a box-grater with hole similar to the thickness of match stick.
Whisk the eggs in a bowl, and adding the brown sugar if extra sweetness is desired (if so, whisk further to combine).
Heat the oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. When the oil begins to shimmer, its hot! Another way to test is to run your hand under the faucet, and flick the droplets on your fingers into the pan, if they sizzle, you’re good to go!
Pan fry the shredded carrots just until tender (they will soften and deepen in color). Add a pinch of salt and stir the contents of the pan, cooking for another minute.
Turn off the heat, remove the carrots and let them cool on a large plate for 5-10 minutes. Add them to the whisked eggs and stir until the carrots are evenly distributed.
Return the pan to medium-high heat, if additional oil is needed, add to your discretion. Add the carrot-egg mixture to the pan and let them cook undisturbed until they have nearly cooked through (there should still be remnants of raw egg). Coarsely scramble the egg mixture with a spoon or spatula until your left with relatively large, fully cooked curdles.
Salt to taste, and preferably serve these eggs with warm white rice!
This article was written by a guest contributor, Josh Sadinsky. Read about Josh here.
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