dessert — Blog — Catering and Personal Chef

It's not that complicated: Black Sesame Blood Orange Tart with a Raw Pistachio Date Crust (recipe)

It’s morning. You are here. We are together in my bed. The light touches your feet which are way outstretched beyond my bed. You’ve been blessed with tall genes, but robbed of what we short people get to experience: the cocoon-like warmth of being burrito-smothered in blankets. Feeling generous, I kick the blanket over your exposed feet. You snort and kick the blanket away. I’m trying not to draw parallels here, but a few weeks ago I said the L word–you know, “I L-word You”)–which was followed by your meditative yet deafening silence, then followed by a generous “thank you.” You hugged me as a consolation. I hug you now.

It’s morning. I am examining my face in the bathroom mirror while you fix us espressos. I can hear you busying away, docile when you’re in the kitchen, care-giving and nurturing in ways I have longed for my entire life. I am distracted by lines I never noticed before. How did they get here, on my face? There’s a frown line that resides between my eyebrows, evidence of being disappointed by unreliable past lovers. From scrunching my face anxiously, angrily, melancholically. Frustrated with myself, mostly, which is why it's on my face. Right now you are giving me everything I want (including a much-needed espresso), yet this line is still visible. I smile. But it’s still there.

I'm learning that love's not that complicated. But yet.

Cooking, Recipes, ThoughtsDiane ChangMarch 28, 2017blood orange pie, gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan, dessert, raw dessert, black sesame, pistachios, kanten, agar agarComment

In Love With Red Bean Paste (Recipe)

Chinese legend has it that there was once a woman who, while mourning her deceased husband, cried tears of blood. Her cattle farmer husband had gone off to fight a war. Every day and night while he was away, the woman waited patiently for him and then took her waiting to a mountain top where she’d stare deep into the horizon for her beloved’s return. But surprise, surprise–he never returned. Her optimism regressed into soul-crushing sadness. And with no Netflix, burritos, or ice cream to ease the heartbreak, she just sat on the mountain and cried. The tears she continued to shed turned into blood and then mysteriously transformed into little tiny red beans, readying the earth with seeds to sprout the first ever red bean tree.

This myth and iterations of it have come to symbolize a kind of punishing but enduring love and unwavering devotion. Because of this, it’s become customary to eat red bean soup at Chinese weddings, as if auspicious foods could steer someone with a roving eye away from committing adultery. But I love red bean soup, so any excuse to eat it, I’ll take it.

Recipes, Tradition, CookingDiane ChangFebruary 4, 2016red bean, adzuki, dessert, red bean paste, wok, sweetComment

Surprise is a black sesame ball explosion (Recipe)

Life is full of surprises. Humans, inevitably, are too.

People never fail to surprise or shock me. In good ways or ways no amount of memory loss will ever allow me to forget. Like the time in 8th grade when I learned - on a three-way call no less - that my secretboyfriendforevercrush was going to the school dance with one of my good female friends. Betrayed and so obviously dissed, I wondered how I’d ever trust people - or myself - again.

American-ish Chinese-ish (Recipe)

While I was born in the U.S., my upbringing was anything but typical American. But what does it mean to be a typical American anyway? Immihelp.com says that, “People from all over the world have immigrated to the United States. Therefore, it is very difficult to define a typical American, as there is no such thing. However, a majority of the current Americans are of European descent; therefore, the description below is primarily with that in mind.”

This explains why sitcoms, movies, and books I grew up with in the mid ‘80s and ‘90s reverberated with cultural themes that I had a hard time identifying with. There’s a memorable scene from Full House that confused the shit out of me when I was ten years old.

Cooking, Recipes, Tradition, Thoughts, VideosDiane ChangJanuary 19, 2015breakfast, wine brew, mochi, homemade, typical American, soup, dessertComment