Comfort food is hard to pin down. It’s as slippery as noodles, with any attempt to characterize it often countered by an exception.
Cambridge Dictionary defines it as “the type of food that people eat when they are sad or worried, often sweet food or food that people ate as children.”
I connect with the nostalgia part and love sweet things, but I tend to reject the idea that comfort food must fill a sador worried-shaped hole. To me, all food is comfort food: Do we ever set out to make food that discomforts? It’s true that the past year has seen a focus on food’s particular ability to provide solace amid so much uncertainty. Slippery though noodles can be, then, it’s interesting to ponder why noodles — so simple, so basic, so everyday — have such an ability to nurture, sustain and, indeed, comfort.
For all the ways to define comfort food, the dictionary definition is the one I’d push back on. Why is comfort food associated with sadness or some kind of lack or guilt? Can’t we just love it because it’s delicious, easy and there?
I don’t like Champagne (no guilt!), but I do love this quote from Lily Bollinger, who is with Bollinger Champagnes: “I drink Champagne when I’m happy and when I’m sad.”
“Sometimes I drink it when I’m alone,” she said. “When I have company, I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I’m not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise, I never touch it — unless I’m thirsty.”
I feel the same way about food. I eat when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Sometimes I eat when I’m alone. When I have company, it’s a must. I snack when I’m peckish and feast when I have an appetite. Otherwise, I can go without — unless I’m hungry.
Satisfying Soba With Crunchy Ginger
Toppings Ingredients:
• 6 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 1/2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
• 1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika
• 1 (2-inch) piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped (about 3 tablespoons)
• 1 shallot, peeled and finely chopped
• 1/4 cup panko breadcrumbs
• 1 tablespoon white and black sesame seeds
• Kosher salt
Broth Ingredients:
• 2 1/4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
• 1 4-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and roughly chopped (about 1/3 cup)
• 1 shallot, peeled and roughly chopped
• 1 small head of garlic, halved
Noodles Ingredients:
• 7-9 ounces dried soba
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
Directions:
Prepare the toppings: Add 4 tablespoons oil to a large skillet and heat gently over medium. Place chile flakes and paprika into a small heatproof bowl. Once the oil is hot but not smoking, pour it over the spices. Set aside to infuse as you make the ginger crumbs.
Add the remaining 2 tablespoons oil to the same skillet and heat over medium-high.
Once hot, turn the heat back down to medium and add the ginger and shallot.
Cook for 10-15 minutes, stirring often, until nicely browned and starting to crisp.
Add the panko, sesame seeds and 1/4 teaspoon salt, and cook for 4-6 minutes more, stirring often, until nicely toasted. Transfer to a bowl and set aside.
Make the broth: Add all the broth ingredients plus 3/4 cup water and 1 teaspoon salt to a medium lidded saucepan, and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat.
Cover once simmering, turn the heat down to low and cook for 25 minutes.
Drain through a sieve set over a bowl, discarding the solids, and return the broth to the saucepan along with another 1 1/4 cups hot water.
Keep warm over low heat until ready to serve.
Prepare the noodles: Boil them in a pot or saucepan according to package instructions. Drain well and run under cold water to stop the cooking.
Return the drained noodles to the pot or saucepan and toss with the lime juice, soy sauce and cilantro (coriander).
Divide the warm broth across four bowls, then use a fork to twist and gather the noodles and nest them artfully in the bowls.
Top with a spoonful of the ginger crumbs and the red pepper (chile) oil, serving the remaining alongside.
Total time: 45 minutes, serves 4.
© 2021 The New York Times Company
