I started cooking when I was eight—back in 1968—for an American GI / Dependent family of nine, so unless I'm trying something totally new that I'm [QED] unfamiliar with, I really don't use recipes. I generally know how much of what by sight and heft will have whichever desired effect. I was the same way with scale models—I never consulted the instructions unless the rare occasion manifested where I did not know where a strangely-shaped part went.
One of my favorites is Spicy fill-in-the-blank Teriyaki. I stir-fry whichever fresh veggies I want like broccoli, snow peas, carrots, scallions, yellow onions, bell peppers—and here's my favorite part—crisp green Serrano chiles ("peppers" to Anglos)—a LOT of Serranos. I stir-fry that in a large skillet with sesame oil (nothing beats that taste!) for about twelve minutes, throw in the shrimp and squid (or beef or chicken or pork), stir-fry some more, drown it in garlic powder (not garlic salt—yech!), liberally sprinkle it with soy sauce, lightly dust it with dark brown sugar, stir-fry a bit more, and then stir in prepped soy sauce and water solution with cornstarch or rice-starch to thicken it up quickly. Serve over brown rice.
It's pretty standard and easy, takes less than half an hour.
I eat my meals SIGNIFICANTLY more spicy than your average bear likes. When I made this meal last week, the heat and the sheer volume of chiles filled the kitchen atmosphere with veritable invisible but very detectable clouds of Capsaicin. Despite the vent in the kitchen window, the air could not be breathed without prolonged fits of coughing.
The dinner was perfect…for a Mandarin monk, or a half-Mexican, half Anglo person such as myself.
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