An event of historic proportions

You guys! This right here? This is a photo of my child eating congee.

                           

If you read this post, you understand why this is such a huge deal. 

Here's the bowl of congee I made for myself yesterday morning, which Kamal kept trying to put his own spoon into, which prompted me to give him his own little ramekinful. 

It's just bai zhou topped with sautéed baby kale and one and a half of Adam's perfect soft-boiled eggs. (The other half-egg is on Kamal's breakfast plate). 

Since Kamal has consistently refused rice and since I've committed to eating congee every morning for a year, I will typically make us separate breakfasts, like this one. 

Our breakfasts one day last week: Kamal had roasted sweet potatoes, roasted chicken, sauteed spinach and spaghetti in meat sauce. I had brown rice congee, an egg over-easy, roasted chicken and sauteed spinach.

But yesterday morning gave me hope! I mean, look at this! He was so into it! He's only just learning about eating with utensils and yet he's spooning up that congee like a champ!

Okay, in this photo there's technically nothing actually on the spoon, but whatever. Points for effort, kiddo. 

The rest of the day was just golden, probably because when you start the day with congee things tend to go well. There was some two-wheeling and kumquat eating:

And then later in the evening Kamal helped Daddy fix dinner. 

                                     

Of course, this morning when I optimistically gave him a serving of congee, Kamal studiously removed it all from his bowl onto the dining table, and then dramatically flung a piece of congee-covered kale onto the floor. Chagrin! 

But a few minutes later, he trod across the discarded kale, and its congee coating made it stick to his foot. And then with a delighted expression he discovered the kale stuck to the bottom of his foot, sat down, peeled it off, and ate it. Parenting moral: Progress, such as it is, is not necessarily linear. 

Other people's congee!

I'm so excited by how many people have jumped on the congee train. Here are some photos from folks of their own congee. They all look so delicious!

You remember Anne's lovely chicken and leek congee, of course; here's a photo to remind you. 

If Wes Anderson did a congee photo shoot, this is what it would look like.

(let's nobody forget to include Cody!)

The fabulous Laura von Holt, a.k.a. Von Hottie, made this beautiful bowl of congee topped with egg, spinach, shiitake mushrooms, and sesame oil. 

Says Laura: "It's delicious & reminds me of eating plate lunches in Hawai'i. I drew a heart with Sriracha sauce because Lorelle says food is best for you when it is made with love." Awwww. And it's true!

Lucie, a gifted cook, baker and yogi, made bai zhou topped with egg and greens ("Reminds me of my grandma's house," she says): 

and then a savory congee made with homemade stock and topped with tofu, greens and sesame seeds. 

I literally can't look at this photograph without my mouth watering.

My friend and fellow acupuncturist, Lesley Custodio of Feel Well Acupuncture in San Diego, made this exceptionally healthful savory quinoa congee. 

Quinoa always gets this adorable little curly tail when you cook it.

Here's how she did it: "I first sauteed onions and garlic in olive oil. When they were golden and caramelized, I took them out. Then I added some leftover rotisserie chicken and ginger and let it cook for a little bit before adding water and quinoa. I think I used about half a cup of quinoa and 4 cups of water. I added safflower (hong hua) and a bay leaf and let it boil away. When I'm ready to serve it, I add back the onions I took out (my Mom's secret trick!) Salt and pepper to taste too."

Lesley's quinoa congee is a terrific example of a whole-grain congee. Even though I feel strongly that the small amount of white rice consumed in a bowl of congee can't have more than a negligible impact on the blood sugar levels of a basically healthy person, variety is a nice thing. Moreover, having a whole-grain option can be important for diabetic or pre-diabetic people.


Another great whole-grain congee option: Jenjen's brown basmati rice congee, cooked with kale, ginger and cilantro. 

Yum.

Jenjen and I have been friends for twenty-something years, and she's one of those people that you know you can turn to kind of no matter what. Like Jenjen, this congee sounds warm and comforting--perfect February food. 

Here's Mayumi's gorgeous congee, topped with tea eggs, roasted nori, chopped scallions and Sriracha.

Mayumi and I have also been friends for forever, and she is as lovely a writer as she is a friend and congee-dresser.


Tara and Les Goodman run the phenomenal Adafina Culinary catering company, and they are congee eaters from the way back. Tara sent me this photo of  her Saturday morning breakfast: "This morning's congee: made with chicken carcass broth and topped with chopped ginger, fermented black bean chili sauce, cilantro, fermented cabbage and crispy onions."

See that squat brown ceramic crock in the back left there? That's the fermented cabbage, and it's getting it's own blog post one day soon.

Um, holy moly. 

Another fellow acupuncturist, Molly Shapiro of MBS Acupuncture in Bethesda, made this bowl of deliciousness:



You can read her recipe and experience with congee in Asian countries in her thoughtful blog post, right here. 


And the beautiful people at Wishbone restaurant in Petaluma put this gorgeous sweet congee on their brunch menu!

And then they served it in the most adorable mini-French-oven you ever saw in your whole life.

Black forbidden rice cooked in coconut milk and topped with toasted coconut and fresh fruit. This is the decadent way I started my morning today. It was like eating dessert first--but I still felt all wholesome and virtuous. Win-win! 


Speaking of sweet congees, the next sweet congee recipe I'm looking forward to trying is this Warming Pear and Ginger Congee,  written by another acupuncture colleague and friend, Michael Ishii of Stonewell Acupuncture in New York City. It's a recipe written with autumn in mind, but it sounds perfect for the unusually dry California winter we've been having.

Thank you all so much for sharing your congee adventures with me! Please keep them coming--you can shoot photos and recipes over to me at lorelle@thesaxenaclinic.com

White rice, rampant omnivorism, and how to enjoy both of those things and good health at the same time

So here I am, this integrative healthcare provider, counseling you to eat a breakfast composed largely of white rice. What's up with that? 

chicken rendang congee with sweet-sour cucumber carrot pickle (recipes coming soon to this blog!)

If you're wondering, "But isn't white rice bad for me? Isn't it totally devoid of nutrients? Won't it make me gain weight at warp speed? And what about my blood sugar?" you're not alone, and kudos on paying attention to what goes into your body. The answers to these questions aren't particularly simple or straightforward, and they require your open-mindedness in considering both Eastern and Western nutritional philosophies. 

plain congee (bai zhou) with sauteed beet greens, homemade sriracha, and homemade goma furikake

Let's look at the Western component first. White rice is just brown rice with the hull taken off. But the hull is where most of the nutrients--including thiamine, a crucial B-vitamin--and the fiber are. Without the hull, white rice is a refined carbohydrate, and one that converts quickly to sugar during the digestive process, which is why it's a concern for diabetics and anyone else monitoring their blood glucose levels. 

Now the Eastern perspective: Nothing wrong with brown rice--it's absolutely a healthful grain choice. That being said, white rice has value as well. For one thing, the insoluble fiber and minerals in the hull of brown rice (as well as other whole grains) can actually cause harm to people with certain health conditions, such as ulcerative colitis or renal dysfunction. White rice digests more quickly because it's easier to digest, and when you give your digestive system food that's easy to digest--especially first thing in the morning, when it and you are still waking up--it can focus its energies away from the grind of digestion and towards distributing nutrition to the body. The entire body is thereby allowed to process, heal, and generally move through whatever stages it needs to move through for you to feel well. 

chicken rendang congee with minced fresh kaffir lime leaves, soft-boiled egg, and cucumber-carrot pickle; rooibos chai tea to drink

Being gentle with your digestive system, instead of putting it through its paces by throwing fiber at it, actually allows it to more effectively perform all of its necessary roles. It's the difference between starting the day with military-style boot camp cardio class and starting the day with a meditative yoga session: both are valid choices, but each exercise has different goals. Most traditional Chinese medical practitioners, me included, would recommend the meditative yoga session--because we put a lot of stock in moderation, including a moderate, moderated transition from sleep to wakefulness. Congee, particularly congee made with white rice, is a way to allow your digestive system the same gentle, easy waking-up process. 

bai zhou with fresh spinach and egg cooked in coconut oil

It helps to remember that there's really not a lot of white rice in even a big bowl of congee. The eight to one water to congee ratio and the way rice absorbs water and releases starch as it cooks ensures that your breakfast bowl probably contains less rice than it would take to make a quarter cup of white rice. Adding protein--in the form of a tea egg, say, or chicken, or tofu, or peanuts, or mung bean sprouts, or sesame seeds--and fiber in the form of vegetables will help to keep its impact on your blood glucose levels negligible.

chicken rendang congee, spinach, chicken leg, hard boiled egg

Of course, if you're still concerned, you can certainly make congee out of brown rice. If you do, you should increase the water ratio--maybe 10 to 12 parts water to one part rice--and be prepared to let it simmer for up to an hour or so longer than white rice congee. I'd recommend one of the more fragrant brown rice varieties, such as brown basmati, or else one of the shorter-grain rices, such as brown sushi rice--but any brown rice will work. You can even make congee out of quinoa or amaranth or farro or any grain that you'd like; each grain will produce its own distinctly flavored and textured congee.

But if you love your white rice congee, like I do? Enjoy in good health, without guilt, and with a variety of additions and toppings. As always, "all things in moderation" is the simplest and best path to health.

. 

bai zhou, sauteed greens, roasted black sesame seeds

I'd love to hear about your congee-making experiments with brown rice or other grains. And I'd also love to answer any other questions that come up around the health benefits, preparation or enjoyment of congee--just shoot me an email at lorelle@thesaxenaclinic.com.

bai zhou, poached egg, spinach, shiitake mushrooms and homemade sriracha

All aboard the congee train: Guest post from Anne!

Yay! The very gifted Anne Convery blogs at wishicouldgo.com, and kindly shares her congee-making experience here in our very first guest post. Her congee sounds absolutely delicious. Like, I'm drooling a little right now.

Tried congee and want to share about it here? I'd love that! Shoot me an email at lorelle@thesaxenaclinic.com.

Here's Anne!

I go in and out of eating healthily, or at least of having the sense I’m eating healthily.  I don’t think this is so uncommon, and I think a lot of us are still coming down from our holiday high – which may feel more like clawing our way back up from a holiday low, into the light and our “lighter” selves, depending.

I try not to put undue pressure on myself and make a bunch of resolutions out the gate at the start of the new year because I don’t like creating a set-up for failure or beginning any enterprise with the undue stress of announcing it to the world or burdening it with fifty pounds of self-help books or cluttering it with fad exercise equipment.  I like to go small.  Test stuff out, see what I like, and then maybe share the ideas that pass the picky, picky “Will Anne do this/eat this/stick with this for more than 48 hours? Test” with friends and like-minded folk.  Something it is not hard at all to get me to stick with is eating, especially if it tastes good.

And I do think that incorporating a nourishing breakfast into a daily routine is one of the simplest and most comforting ways to have a big positive impact on how you feel physically and mentally each day.  

Emphasizing the importance of breakfast has become a cliché, something I remember as far back as this PSA from in between my Saturday morning cartoons: 

But just because it’s cliché doesn’t make it any less true.  And the times I’ve felt my best – most consistently energetic throughout the day as well as most inclined to make nourishing food choices from morning into the evening – are the times in my life I’ve chosen to start with a warm, healthy(ish) breakfast.  Oatmeal with apples and raisins and a leeetle butter and brown sugar, eggs scrambled with spinach and goat cheese on toast, cream of buckwheat with blueberries and toasted coconut.  I like to keep it in balance and give myself things I want along with things I need, and isn’t it a wonderful surprise when those happen to be one and the same thing?

So I was pretty intrigued by Lorelle’s congee blog, and I really wanted to try making some.  I also wanted to get back on the breakfast wagon after a hectic holiday season filled with travel and too many peppermint mochas masquerading as meals.  I really like the idea of a savory breakfast, since for whatever reason, sweet breakfasts – cold cereals, pancakes, breakfast pastries – always leave me feeling simultaneously sluggish and like, “When’s lunch?” 

I found this pretty simple and yummy-sounding recipe for Ginger Chicken Congee (or jook, as I found out it’s called in Cantonese – thanks, Internet! You’re not just for cats ‘n’ boobs, after all!), and decided to do it up on the first day I got my kitchen back after my house having been in general upheaval for the installation of some new windows the last couple weeks. 

I made a few changes as I saw fit, and my slightly modified ingredients and instructions are below:

---

 
Ingredients: 

• 1 tsp butter
• 2 leeks chopped 
• 6 cups water
• 4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 tsp butter
• 1 1/2 pounds bone-in chicken pieces, skin removed and trimmed of excess fat
• 1 cup long-grain white rice
• 1 (1-inch) piece fresh ginger, skin on and sliced into 4 pieces
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus more as needed
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper, plus more as needed
• Thinly sliced scallions, for garnish

Instructions: 

Melt butter over medium heat and sauté chopped leeks in it until fragrant and just starting to become translucent in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven.Place the rest of the ingredients except the scallions in the saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium low and cook at a lively simmer, stirring occasionally, until the rice has completely broken down and the mixture is creamy, about 1, 1 1/2 hours.Turn off the heat and remove the chicken to a cutting board. When it’s cool enough to handle, shred the chicken into bite-sized pieces, discarding the cartilage and bones. Return the chicken shreds to the jook. Stir to combine, taste, and season with additional salt and pepper as needed. Ladle into bowls and top with scallions.  

---

I am the child of a mother who came of age in the late 50s and early 60s.  My childhood meals were typified by concoctions created using the magic of Campbell’s “Cream of…” soups.  I think my palette’s come a little ways since then, but what I LOVED about this is that it kinda looked, smelled and was tastefully reminiscent of (though definitely better than) this chicken and rice dish my mom would make using just some onions, salt and pepper, Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup and chicken, served over some Uncle Ben’s quick rice.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not slagging on my mom, here.  If I’d had to cook for me and my brothers and my dad and whomever else my ingrate children had in tow, I’d be all about the convenience too.

Plus, you know, it was the 70s.  The early 80s.  We still thought there’d be better living through food chemistry!  But for reals, this was easy and awesome.  And made me all nostalgic and cozy feeling in the way that only foods which comfort us with their delightful aromas and tastes really can.

Anyway, this is a dish I could happily eat in all its limitless variations for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.  In this case, I couldn’t wait ‘til breakfast, so I had it for dinner, topped off with some steamed and lightly seasoned kale.  Aaaaand a little bit of chicken skin I removed from the chicken parts I used, and which I may have lightly dredged in flour and seasoned with black pepper, cayenne and turmeric and then MAYBE crisped in a little bit of bacon grease.

Oh, and how'd that poached egg sneak in there? EVERYTHING IN MODERATION. Delicious, delicious moderation. That's a resolution I don't think it'll be hard to keep this year.

Don't worry. Cody totally got some. 

How To Get Healthy: A One-Word Lesson (and also, Sunday morning congee recipe)

If I had to give a one-word lecture on how to achieve your healthiest self, here's how the lecture would go:

"Moderation."

All things in moderation, "good" things and "bad" things alike. This applies to exercise, to emotions, and very straightfowardly to food.

I love congee and I think you should eat it for breakfast every day, yes. But I don't think you should eat it for every meal of every day, because it would be hard to get enough calories and because eating lots of different foods is important (and fun!).  Kale is good for you, and it's hard to eat too much of it, but "kale overdose" can actually cause thyroid problems.  Beer and bacon cheeseburgers and pistachio ice cream hot fudge sundaes are generally considered not so good for you, but I'm going to go ahead and say that in moderation, all of those things can be very good for your soul.

I remember one day in particular, five years ago, when Adam and I had recently moved into our home. The backyard had been serving as a mini-farm for 30 years for the family that lived there before us, but hadn't been maintained for their last few years there. We'd spent that long, bright September day, along with many days before and after, working hard to restore the backyard to a functional and beautiful growing space.

Here's a "before" pic of our backyard...

...and an "after" pic. Hard work, but so worthwhile.

When the sun finally went down and we'd showered and stretched our aching muscles, all either of us wanted was a burger and a beer. We went to Flavor, sat at the bar, ordered a couple of pints of Moonlight and medium-rare bacon cheeseburgers, and felt really, really good about it. It was a meal that was good for our souls. Not the kind of meal anyone ought to eat on the regular, for sure--but that night, it was exactly right. It was moderation at its most fun.

This morning Adam made me the congee he's made most often for me, one I requested while at the hospital after giving birth to Kamal. The morning after Kamal was born, after sleeping in a chair in the hospital room with me and spending hours with our brand-new son in the NICU, Adam went home, checked on the animals, fixed me congee, and brought it to my hospital room steaming hot in a thermos. The hospital staff got really worried when my breakfast tray came back untouched; a nurse stopped in and gently remonstrated that I shouldn't worry about losing the baby weight yet. I explained that my husband was making me the breakfast I really wanted, and she frowned skeptically, then slipped a bunch of applesauce cups onto my bedside table with a conspiratorial look.

Sunday Morning Chicken Congee with Kale, Ginger, Goji Berries and Shiitakes

WHAT ADAM PUT IN IT:

For full congee recipe:
1 1/2 cups of white rice (we used jasmine)
1 4-inch piece of ginger, sliced into thin coins--no need to peel if it's organic
2/3 cup of dried goji berries
one 10 oz bag frozen shiitake mushrooms, or equivalent weight fresh shiitakes
water to fill the pot, or a combination of water and stock (approximately eight parts liquid to one part rice, so approximately 12 cups of water--but this is a very flexible ratio)
2 whole chicken legs, skin-on, bone-in*

For individual serving: 
about a quarter of a bunch of kale
one egg

*A whole chicken leg=one thigh and one drumstick. You could also use four thighs, or four drumsticks, or three drumsticks and one thigh...you get the idea. You could certainly also use the equivalent weight in skin-on, bone-in chicken breast, but I prefer the flavor of dark meat.

HOW ADAM MADE IT:

Adam first thoroughly washed the rice, then put in in the rice pot with the ginger, goji berries, shiitakes and water.

Next he heated a skillet, added a little bit of coconut oil to it (we use Nutiva brand) and browned the chicken legs all over in it.

He put the browned chicken in the rice pot with the other ingredients and filled the pot with the water.

Then he turned the rice cooker on. (Follow the directions for your rice cooker; or, if you're doing this on the stove top, add about 12 cups of water, cover your pot, and bring it to a low boil, then reduce it to a low simmer, stirring occasionally, until congee is done. See this post for a description of how to know when your congee is done.)

While the congee is cooking (about 90 minutes to two hours in our rice cooker) chop and sautee the kale; Adam used coconut oil for this, too. Here's an important note: Half a bunch of kale is enough for a couple of servings, and this recipe makes way more than a couple of servings of congee.  If you want to make enough kale at once to accompany the whole pot of congee, Adam suggests two bunches of kale.

You could also just add the kale to the pot of congee at the beginning of cooking, if you want. This wouldn't work for softer greens, like spinach--those would just sort of melt into the congee with the long cooking time--but it's fine for a hardy green like kale.

Once the kale is done, cook an egg over-easy in coconut oil.

Put the congee into your favorite bowl, making sure there's a little of everything in it, then top with the kale and egg.

For over-the-top decadence, Adam also crisped some of the chicken skin in the hot pan. This is a time-revered, ridiculously delicious congee topping--but definitely falls in the category of things that, no matter how good for the soul, should only be eaten in very careful moderation. BUT HOLY MOLY IT'S SO GOOD.

Tea leaf eggs (cha ye dan)

When I was a really little kid--like two, or three, or five, or so--my mother would pull out this embroidered green bag from the linen closet, stuff it with towels and sunscreen, and put it in the back of our old Datsun station wagon with a straw beach mat and a picnic cooler. We'd all put on our swim suits and drive out of Hahaione Valley, our quiet neighborhood in the suburbs of Honolulu, to Hanauma Bay, a lovely moon-shaped beach that used to be pleasantly sociable and nowadays is a huge tourist attraction. (It's still lovely. It's just crowded! And hard to park! And they charge admission!) We'd park up at the top of the road and walk a long way down a sloped, winding path to the beach. Once we'd spread out our beach mat, Mom would slather me with sunscreen while I squirmed and whined to get in the water, and then she in her glamorous one-piece or Dad in his awfully-short trunks would walk me into the waves.

I remember loving that water so much, bobbing in the gentle waves, peering at the fish that brushed our legs and terrified my big sister. Once there was a shark sighting, and everyone was warned to get out of the ocean, and I screamed and cried that I didn't care if a shark got me, I just wanted to stay in.

Here's a grainy old picture of me at the beach circa, oh, 1980 or so. See how pissed I look? That's probably because I'm not in the water. Stupid shark sightings.

Eventually, salt in my hair and eyes stinging from trying to see under the water, I'd trundle back to our spot on the sand and Mom would unpack the cooler. There might be anything from turkey sandwiches to pasta salad to potstickers in the cooler, but there would always be what she called soy-sauce eggs, one of my absolute favorite treats. Satiny, savory, perfectly umami: there was never a time, not through my endless picky-eater phases, when I wouldn't be thrilled to eat them. Mom made them by hard-boiling eggs, peeling them, and then letting them sit, overnight or longer, in a briny mix of soy sauce, star anise and strongly brewed Lipton tea.

The tea eggs Adam made for yesterday's congee are a fancy, grown-up cousin of my mom's soy-sauce eggs. They use loose-leaf lapsang souchong, a smoky black Chinese tea--no tea bags here!--and cinnamon sticks, fennel seeds and peppercorns along with the star anise. Also, before the eggs are totally hard boiled, the shells are cracked all over but left on, so that the tea brine creates a delicate veined pattern, similar to a crackled porcelain glaze, all over the surface of the eggs.

If you don't love the flavors of star anise and fennel seeds, you can leave them out of the recipe and still get the beautiful pattern and a nice subtle smoky-salty flavor. If you're on the fence, though, try it with at least the star anise: it's pretty integral to the traditional character of these eggs.

Adam used this recipe from Saveur, originally published there in 2012.

Tea Eggs 

1/2 cup soy sauce1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
8 whole cloves
2 whole star anise
2 sticks cinnamon
1 tablespoon loose-leaf smoked tea, such as lapsang souchong 
8 eggs

Bring soy sauce, sugar, peppercorns, fennel, cloves, star anise, cinnamon, and two cups water to a boil in a saucepan; remove from heat and add tea. Let steep for 10 minutes.

Pour marinade through a fine strainer into a bowl and keep warm. Place eggs in a 4-qt. saucepan; cover by ½″ with cold water.

Place saucepan over high heat and bring to a boil; cover pan, remove from heat, and let sit until eggs are soft-boiled, about 5 minutes.

Drain eggs. Crack shells all over but do not peel eggs; return to saucepan along with marinade.

Bring to a boil and let cook, stirring, for 5 minutes.

Remove from heat and add 2 cups ice. Let cool in marinade before serving. (We actually left our eggs overnight in the fridge, sitting in the marinade, in a quart Mason jar.)

 
Here's how they look all peeled and pretty. The longer you leave them in the marinade, the darker the marbling and more pronounced the delicious flavor. 

Today Adam reheated yesterday's bai zhou, or plain white congee, for me, with some of the remaining sauteed beet greens and shiitake mushrooms. He tucked a cold tea egg underneath the hot congee, and it was warmed up and perfect by the time I broke into it. Here's a photo of today's breakfast, and you can see, if you compare it to yesterday's, how the congee gets progressively smoother and creamier as it reheats (or cooks longer).

A dab of sesame oil, a dab of tamari, a dab of homemade sriracha, and I'm in heaven. 

My Year of Congee: Day One!

Today's the beginning of 2014--and the first day of my Year of Congee. Are you as excited as I am? (Probably not: I don't know that many people who get as excited about congee as I do. I'm hoping this blog will bring you over to this side of hardcore congee fandom.)

Congee can be made with many different types of grains, and be flavored as elaborately as you like--but since we're just starting out, I'm starting this year with the simplest and most common type of congee--bai zhou, which translates to "white porridge" and is basically just rice cooked with lots of water (as opposed to cooking it with stock and/or herbs, spices and other flavorings) that you top with whatever you like.

Here's how to make bai zhou:

Put 1 part washed white rice (we used jasmine; our favorite Three Ladies brand from Thailand) into a pot with 8 parts cold water.  We use a rice cooker, and just follow the cooker instructions, hit the "cook" switch, and have congee about 90 minutes later. Of course, timing varies from cooker to cooker.

If you don't have a rice cooker, making congee is only slightly more complicated: Bring the water and rice to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, stirring occasionally, for as long as it takes for the rice grains to start breaking down and sort of losing their individual borders.

How broken-down and borderless your rice grains get is up to you. We tend to make a batch of congee on the more-solid side; here's a picture of what it looks like when it's done.

                           

This makes a pretty big batch; I'll reheat small portions for the next few days on the stove with a little extra water in them, and so those will break down even more and start looking more and more like a smooth white mass and less like lots of blurry grains of rice.

There are countless ways to top your bai zhou. I picked some toppings that are considered lucky, in Chinese culture, for the new year: tea eggs, beet greens sauteed with shiitake mushrooms, and toasted black sesame seeds. Adam very kindly cooked them all to order--I'll start posting recipes for congee accompaniments tomorrow!--and laid them out here along with tamari, sesame oil and his homemade Sriracha.

Here's my dressed-up bowl of breakfast, all ready for me to dig in:

Kamal climbed into my lap and helped himself to some shiitakes, so I fixed him his own little bowl.

Mmmmm...mushrooms and mama kisses

congee=smiles

We both loved it. So much, in fact, that I had another bowl for lunch today and am already looking forward to having it for breakfast tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll post the recipe for these lovely tea eggs.

Besides being a pretty addition to your congee bowl, they're a perfect picnic food and were one of my favorite snacks when I was little.

Happy 2014, friends!