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PERFECTLY BAKED SAUNA EGGS

SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN 50~55 MINUTES, IS THE FIFTY SHADES OF YELLOW

OK, I admit. For someone who has, more than once, cried sympathy for her egg-allergy, I spend an unnatural amount of time studying the perfect way to cook them. Not just on my shortcut – 15 seconds to be exact – to creamy and velvety scrambled eggs, but there are up to this point… THREE POSTS in total, solely dedicated to detailed ways of making onsen tamago, aka hot spring eggs. There was the genesis-post (where my heartbreaking journey on losing one of my favourite things to eat was well documented), then a second one, then a third one. And now, here’s the fourth.

But, this post isn’t technically about “onsen/hot spring” eggs, where the eggs are submerge in a hot bath of a constant temperature at 158F/70C. If I may, this is more about something I’d like to call, the sauna eggs. And this could proven a revelation for those of you out there, who aren’t particular keen on babysitting a thermometer and a pot of hot water, because these, these are baked in the oven.

This mad scientific conduct came after I spotted this on Pinterest a few days ago. But instead of omg-this-is-genenius-!, I said to myself, holy-shit-what-a-waste-!. I mean, if someone were to look for a no-fuss method of cooking something, it shouldn’t be applied to what’s already the most fuss-less thing to do on earth, like hard-boiling an egg… Instead, it should be calibrated, fine-tuned, solely dedicated to achieving the most elegantly beautiful transformation of a single ingredient, this mother earth has to offer.

So I set out my expedition on Wednesday. Three cartons of eggs and a few disappointments later, I’ve arrived at the truth. Now, there are obviously 2 major factors at play here, being the temperature, and the cooking time. The temperature, in this case a less interesting subject, is found to be sitting slightly higher than the hot bath-method, at 175F/80C ~ 185F/85C. But the cooking time is what’s really interesting here. Somewhere in between 50~55 minutes, is where the fifty shades of yellow happen.

Judging purely from the appearance of the cracked eggs, you may think there isn’t much difference between 45 to 55 minutes. And that’s because the difference lies within the yolk. At 45 minutes, the yolk is still very runny and almost completely raw. Then at 50 minutes, the yolk has thickened slightly, runs slower, but still hasn’t hit the sweet spot of resembling thick custard. But in the next mere 5 extra minutes, you can see how the yolk has completely solidified, overcooked, looking more like a soft-boiled egg than what we really want.

The conclusion? A very specific 53 min at a temperature between 175F/80C ~ 185F/85C. Little, precious, opaque jewels of deliciousness with a texture lurking between the lines of fluid and solid, jelly and custard. They are perfect, worth every pain of a one-way infatuation from afar, well, for me at least. For you, it’s gonna be a full-blown romance.

03.06.2015

In All recipes, Meat, Noodle/Pasta/Rice, updated recipe

MY XIAN FAMOUS SPICY CUMIN LAMB HAND-SMASHED NOODLES

ONCE YOU GET THERE, WHATEVER IT TAKES FOR YOU TO GET THERE,

THE REST IS AS EASY AS BIANG

Does this recipe really need introduction? If you have been enjoying, following, or even just been seduced from afar by the unstoppable uprise of this basement-stall to now 10 flourishing locations throughout New York, you would not be unfamiliar with the signature dish, from Xian Famous Foods. The spicy cumin lamb hand-ripped (biang biang) noodles.

I have certainly been a fan. More precisely, I have been enjoy Xian Famous Foods for the past few years, without actually stepping a foot inside any of their 10 locations. Because I’ve been here, in Beijing, where “Xian famous foods” are not known as the name of a trending chain-restaurants, but in fact, a genre. Those 4 Chinese characters almost recognized as their “logo”, are actually common here as a phrase that describes the local street foods of the city Xi-An. Kind of like having a restaurant called “Texas BBQ”, or “Chicago Hotdogs”. And on top of the usual suspects of cold skin noodles, cumin lamb burger (called “rou-jia-mo”), lamb offal soup… there is of course, the biang biang.

03.04.2015

In All recipes, Seafood, Snacks

CURRIED LENTIL AND SHRIMP POPCORNS

PANCETTA TARTARE.

WHAT-EH-WHADAT?

OK, here’s the thing. Mountains, and I mean mountains, of unattended laundries accumulated in the past 3 weeks that has led to a moment last night when I had to remind myself that, plastic bags aren’t clean underwear (put it down, Mandy, put it down…). I mean come on, we’ve all been there, so surely you can understand if I say, grab yourself a handful of these shrimp popcorns and give me a helping hand.

But of course, these aren’t just any shrimp popcorns. These are bouncy, minced black tiger shrimps mixed with soften lentils, grated gingers, anchovies, then just the right amount of curry spices and most importantly, let’s not forget, pancetta tartare. What-eh-whadat? Yes, finely, and I mean finely cubed fatty pancetta, are generously dispersed within every folds and turns, releasing pleasure-grease into each and every one of these little bad babies as they get thinly coated and fried to crispy weekend-delights. But it doesn’t end there. I mean if I expect these to be worthy of helping laundries, of course it doesn’t end there. They are then tumbled and blanketed under a magic dust of salt and spices that may make you sneeze and tear from joy.

So here, don’t mind your greasy fingers. After this load of bed-sheets, there are about 5 more.

02.28.2015

In All recipes, Snacks, Sweets

PAN-GRILLED MARSHMALLOW TOASTS WITH SEA SALT

SOME SAY WONDERFUL THINGS ARE BORN OUT OF DESPERATIONS.

BEFORE TODAY, I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT SPANDEX.

There is something I want you to know about Beijing, or perhaps, about this entire country in general.

If someday you too find yourself living as an angry tick inside the thick filthy furs on this enormous, hyper-capitalism beast, at least you’ll know this to your comfort. Which is, fret not, because it is not only possible but entirely effortless to maintain all daily functions of life (whether a happy or miserable one…), up from remodelling your kitchen down to keeping yourself groomed, all of it … without stepping one foot outside the front door.

This is a city that takes consumer economy, bloody seriously. You can get almost anything, luxurious or middle-class or just plainly dirt-cheap, anything, with a simple click of a button and have them delivered to your front door with fees next to nothing. Order groceries online at 3 AM and have someone, messaging you minutes after, to ask you if you want your pork ribs chopped. Type “yes, please” or “no, thank you”, and the next day at 4 PM, you’ll have everything you need for an all-out BBQ party including a brand new grill. It is a, if not the only perk, of living here.

Then, there’s something else I also want you to know about Beijing, or perhaps this entire country in general, during the Chinese New Years.

Which is, that last, precious ounce of will to live that you’re holding onto so tightly through petty convenience and e-commerce therapy? That will all… and I mean aaall, come to an abrupt and screeching halt, every year, at the first light of dawn on Chinese New Year’s Eves.

Then. Lasts. For. Weeeeeks.

OK, perhaps you don’t know what this means. It means online grocery shop, stops. Online anything, stops. Deliveries, half of them at least, stops. My lifeline of this entire city, stops. Right, of course I can remove myself from my bunker and physically go to an actual market to evade my impending starvation, but did I also mention… that it is cold here during CNY? The kind of face-biting, ears-stinging coldness that makes the 15 minutes bike-ride between my apartment and the nearest market, feel like miles. So thanks but no thanks. Times like this, when desperation strikes, I could only resort to the emergency convenience store downstair.

Yes, well, that convenience store… that fucking convenience store that, when I needed it the most such as say… today, presented me with the mere company of a moldy broccoli and its desperate plea for a merciful death. “Solly, Chinese New Years.”, the dude shrugged. Was he serious? I wouldn’t know what to do with a fresh broccoli let alone a moldy one. Houston, it’s official. You will find me stiff-cold by a torn bag of dog food in the bathroom…

Some say wonderful things are born out of desperations. Before today I’ve always thought they were talking about spandex. But now, now I know they were talking about things like this. The transformation of an exhausted pantry to unexpected, glorious beauty. What can you make from half of a baguette, a bag of marshmallows, some butter and flakey sea salt? Apparently, much more than the sum of its parts.

As I stared into this little stack of pan-grilled marshmallow toasts with crispy edges and caramelized crusts, chewy and gooey layers of sweetness with pops of brininess, I marvelled at human’s sheer will to, not just survive, but survive well. It took more than basic animal instincts for a blood-sugar thirsty female to patiently stood by the stove, gently pressing down the butter-browned baguette in a slow and warm embrace with the melting marshmallow, then the last 30-seconds push for it to caramelize into a gorgeous crust. But it was all worth it. Buttery, crispy, sticky and chewy with sparking saltiness. A dignified end on the last day of this CNY’s starva-thon.

Tomorrow, the pulse of this city will slowly start to tick again as holiday ends. But I have a feeling that this marshmallow toasts with sea salt is going to last much long than that.

02.24.2015

In All recipes, Meat, Noodle/Pasta/Rice

PEPPERONI MEATBALLS SPAGHETTI

EACH MEATBALLS CONTAIN… A TON OF AGE-FORTIFIED FAT-BITS AND TIME-CONSUMING FLAVOURS

Last night, as I unleashed the freezer-section dumplings onto my most festive-looking plate, as part of our mostly-take-out Chinese New Year’s Eve dinner that didn’t even get bothered to be removed from its cleanup-friendly plastic-wares, and watched the annual city-wide shelling of fireworks carried out by every other citizens across the Beijing sky… I realized something.

I am a lousy… lousy… content curator.

There’s… something wrong with this picture. Now is supposed to be the high-season for binge eating for most Asians, rivalling Thanksgiving in its contribution to glorified gluttony, a perfect cue for an Asian food-blogger such as myself, to abuse recipes like… banquet-style fried whole fish drenched in thickened sauce, or glistening red-braised pork ham-shank the size of my own thighs, or… or, at the very least, too much batter-fried sticky rice cake to regret over in the very next morning. But instead, I’m here talking to you about something as generic as… meatball spaghetti.

Well, I blame it on this. A 2 feet long monstrosity which I believe they call, who-the-hell-buys-a-whole-freaking-stick-of pepperoni, stretching its long leg into every last inch of leg-room inside my economy-class refrigerator for the past 2 weeks. It was a generous remnant from a lunch gathering and ever since, I’ve been struggling to put it to a just rest. On pizzas… in between sandwiches… blended into my Olay’s night cream. Then just when I was about one-lost-chapstick-away from rubbing it on my lips for good use, I was reminded of an old trick.

It was a never-failing method, inspired by an epic dinner spent in Lupa in the West Village of New York many years ago, a genius method to inject the kind of flavours only old age can produce, by blending dry-cured meat products into fresh food preparation. The very same method, using trimmed prosciutto fats, landed me on the most insanely flavourful meatballs braised in white wine that I’ve ever tasted. And I thought if it already looked hot in white, there’s no reason why it wouldn’t look even sexier in red, right?

So here, amidst the Chinese festivity of lunar New Year, comes the Italian pepperoni meatball spaghetti braised in a red wine tomato sauce. May not be the most promptly cued entrance, but each meatballs contain not only the usual suspects of mixed ground meats, breadcrumbs, grated parmigiano cheese, herbs and whatnots, but also a ton of minced pepperoni sausage with all its age-glorified fat-bits and time-consuming flavours.

There’s a complexity that only exists inside the cultivated molecules being farted out by a workforce of happy bacterias over a long period of occupancy, which is completely welded into the meatballs just after a relatively short period of braising. The fats get partially absorbed by the breadcrumbs within the meatballs as well as partially rendered into the sauce, deepened by just the right amount of red wine then heightened with a good dab of Dijon mustard at the end. It’s just not your regular, daddy’s Prego meatball spaghetti. It’s a time-fortified, age-defined, pepped-up meatball spaghetti that, consider yourself warned, might just be mean enough to hurt your grandmother’s ego.

So excuse me if I didn’t mention rice cake. Pardon my neglect for a CNY feast. Today, I’m afraid is just gonna be meatball spaghetti…

pepperoni-meatball-spaghetti17

PEPERONI MEATBALLS SPAGHETTI

Serving Size: 4~6 ppl

Ingredients

THE MEATBALLS:

1 cup diced (150 grams) pepperoni sausage
1/4 cup (1 small handful) parsley leaves
2 cloves garlic, smashed
1/2 medium-size onion, cut into chunks
400 grams ground beef
280 grams ground pork
3/4 cup (50 grams) Japanese panko breadcrumbs
1/2 cup (50 grams) grated parmigiano cheese
1 tsp ground cayenne
1 tsp crushed fennel seeds
1 tsp ground paprika
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper

THE SAUCE:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 medium-size onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small celery stalk, finely diced
3 sprigs fresh thyme
2 tbsp tomato paste
3/4 cup dry red wine
1200 grams (three 400 grams cans) peeled Italian tomatoes, pureed in a blender
3" parmigiano cheese rind
2 dried bay leaves
1 tbsp chili flakes
2 tsp honey
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
Salt to taste
1 1/2 tbsp Dijon mustard
Chopped parsley leaves

Instructions

TO MAKE THE MEATBALLS: Preheat the oven top-broiler on high. Run diced pepperoni, parsley leaves, garlics and onion in a food-processor until they resemble chunky, coarse meals. Transfer to a bowl along with ground beef, ground pork, panko breadcrumbs, grated parmigiano cheese, ground cayenne, crushed fennel seeds, ground paprika, salt and black pepper. Gently mix just until even, then shape the mixture into 8 tightly packed meatballs and place on a parchment-lined baking-sheet. Place in the middle-rack in the oven and toast until golden browned on all sides (flipping once). Set aside.
TO MAKE SAUCE: In a large pot, cook extra virgin olive oil, chopped onion, garlic, celery stalk, fresh thyme and tomato paste with a generous pinch of salt over medium-high heat, until the onion is soft and the tomato paste starts to brown on the sides of the pot. Add dry red wine and cook for 5~6 min until almost completely evaporated. Then add the purreed tomatoes, parmigiano cheese rind, bay leaves, chili flakes, honey, ground black pepper, and all the browned meatballs with all the juice and dripping.
Bring to a simmer then turn the heat to low, cover the pot with just a small slit for steam to escape, and let simmer for 2 hours until the liquid has reduced by 1/3. You should give it a gentle stir once every 20~30 min to prevent burning on the bottom. Re-season it along the way with salt if needed. The stew can be made days ahead. Before serving, gently mix the Dijon mustard into the sauce.
TO SERVE: Cook 500 grams of dried spaghetti a couple min BEFORE al dente. Drain and transfer to a large pot, then add enough sauce to generously cover the spaghetti. Cook for another 2 min until the sauce is slightly reduced and coating every pasta, then transfer to a serving plate with the meatballs on top. Scatter more chopped parsley and a generous amount of grated parmigiano cheese. Serve immediately.

https://cj8.98d.mwp.accessdomain.com/2015/02/19/peperoni-meatballs-spaghetti/

02.19.2015

In All recipes, Dairy, Seafood, Snacks

COLD AND WARM SALMON SCRAMBLED EGG ROLLS

HERE’S A GUEST POST OF MINE THAT APPEARED ON A CUP OF JO, AS ONE OF THEIR BREAKFAST SERIES. JUST IN CASE YOU’VE MISSED IT…

When I was little, and by little I mean before my family moved to Vancouver when I was 12, before the unveil of a whole new alien-world of eating orders, I had always believed that a hot dog-bun… was solely designed for holding scrambled eggs. Because that was how it was always given. And that was the way it was always perfect. Even after many years, after such belief had endured the discoveries of freezer-sections hot dogs, sidewalk hot dogs, gourmet sidewalk hot dogs to fancy restaurant hog dogs, it had not faltered. In fact, my stubborn childhood “fetish” had only been reenforced through diversity and comparisons. Before college, I stood even more firmly on my ground, that the perfect thing to go between a toasty bun, was the one and only – creamy scrambled eggs. It wasn’t a childhood-thing to me anymore. It was the truth.

02.15.2015

In All recipes, Bakery/Pastry, Sweets

BACON CRACKLIN’ PANCAKE W/ SALTED HONEY

WHEN DID THE ALL-STAR WORD “CRUST” LEAVE THE PANCAKE CONVERSATION?

I know, there are a lot of you out there, who loves pancakes. And I just want to say, really, I tried.

I’ve never understood pancakes… I’ve never understood the appeal of it. I’ve never understood the logistics of it. The oftentimes blandness and monotoned textures of it. The never-ending flipping just so at the end, having only one that’s fresh and hot of it. All of it. I don’t get it. All these years, I told myself that all I need is a moment. A wow-moment. A moment where a pancake so good, it comes barging into my oblivious life and smacks my foolishness awake, and poof just like that, I’d be a happy pancake folk. Because aren’t you all?

But instead I found myself a pre-middle-aged women, i-hop-ing for the stack that never came.

02.11.2015

In All recipes, Meat, Snacks, Soup

miso stewed short-ribs French-dip sandwich

A ROUNDUP OF MY WEEK RANGING FROM TRAGEDY TO AWESOMENESS…

Lost my sleep mojo.
Left pink eye that’s flirting dangerously with my right eye.
Egg allergy plus one-lick-too-many from testing the magic 15-seconds scrambled eggs, gave this pre-middle aged face a few beautiful, custard-filled pimples.
Tweezer rage. That corner of my eyebrow is never coming back is it?
Being forced to sit straight up so the rim of my tummy wouldn’t touch my thighs. They’re so close…
My building’s management office and the grocery store downstair are plotting together on my imminent suicide. Think I have to move.
But again. my neighbour’s bichon, Coco, has a rainbow-colored afro on her head.
Watched Frozen again.
A dream of myself laying on Beth’s kitchen island, blanketed and all, as one of her props among other things, then fell asleep on the table and went into a second level dream which I have absolutely no recollection of. Inception style.
Watched Frozen again.
An email that almost made me pee my pants.
Eating this.

02.07.2015

In All recipes, Dairy, Quick Meals, updated recipe

MAGIC 15-SECONDS CREAMY SCRAMBLED EGGS

THE PREVIOUSLY-THOUGHT-IMPOSSIBLE SCRAMBLED EGGS-FANTASY

SPEED, AND CREAMINESS. ALL TOGETHER

We all think we know how to do scrambled eggs.

We all know, I hope, that speedy scrambled eggs cooked over high heat will be grainy, rubbery… and worst of all, will ooze liquid out of themselves and ruin a good morning. Thus we all know, that it’s almost only legal to cook scrambled eggs over a low-and-slow process, to get creamy or die stirring in the pursuit of that velvety wrapped-around-your-tongue texture. Right, no news there.

So for the longest time, that’s what I did. So for the past blissful decade, using my very scarcely inherited patience, I’ve abided by the rules in front of all those carefully guarded wee-flames, stirring and stirring until my mind started to wonder… on that last episode of Game of Thrones, on wait–was-that-mold-I-saw-on-my-broccoli?… on anything but asking if this was the only way to the perfect scrambled eggs.

But last week, in an attempt to feed liquid-food to my temporarily anorexic dog-son, I tried thickening an beaten egg with a bit of potato starch (or cornstarch) to make an egg-goo (which I rubbed on his mouth so he would lick it…). And who knew, that unappetizing glob… lead me to one of my greatest kitchen-revelations realized. I thought… wait a second… maybe… a thickening agent is the answer to the previously-thought-impossible scrambled eggs-fantasy. Speed, and creaminess, all together.

And it is! Just by adding a little mixture of milk and potato starch (or cornstarch), the water is forced to bind with the protein even if cooked over high heat, which solves the watery eggs disaster. But better yet, it also creates a creamy and custardy texture with the bits of beaten eggs that aren’t completely cooked through, as if, YES, that they were done slowly over ow heat! While in fact, 15 seconds!! Ahem, friends, here’s how:

02.03.2015

In All recipes, Meat, Snacks

FRIED PORK DUMPLING + KIMCHI NACHOS

YES, I WANT TO CALL IT MOJO. NOT SAUCE. MOJO.

Ooops, am I too late? Have you already laid out your master game-plan for this sunday, unregrettably I hope, from this really awesome list I put together? And now you could really kick yourself (or just kick me…)?

Well, that’s the thing about braving a crazy idea. It needs to overcome a bit of hesitation-lag. A crazily messy ideas like this that leads to moments of me staring at the final photographs, and doesn’t know what the hell I’m looking at. An idea that I hallucinated about on Tuesday, doubted on Wednesday, gave up on Thursday, then on Friday… I thought, fuck it. Life is too short – especially when it involves pork – not to make me a deep fried pork dumpling nachos, with kimchi salsa and gochujang and sour cream nacho-mojo (yes, I want to call it mojo, not sauce, mojo). So here we are. Kicking ourselves.

I know we are short on time, so I’ll spare the pornographic description that I usually paint you, and jump straight to the points. Crispy blistered doughs with salty fish-saucy pork fillings. Spicy, garlicky and crunchy kimchi salsa over a blanket of melted cheese. Then in a finale-squirt of spicy, tangy and creamy gochujang nacho-mojo. Here listen, I don’t call stuff mojo for nothin’ al’right?

So we still got a couple days. Let’s get to it.

01.31.2015

In All recipes, Bakery/Pastry, Meat, Poultry, Snacks, Sweets

LET’S FILL THAT BOWL ON THIS SUPER !!!

IN THE NAME OF SPORTS, IT'S TIME TO EAT OURSELVES TO A CELLULITE-D IMMOBILE PULP

Right, let's face it. Who are we kidding? The only thing sporty about me is that I could, maybe, jump over a puddle if my life depends on it. But that doesn't mean you wouldn't want someone like me at the party this sunday - while the gang rouse up above a borderline-patriotic roar towards the flatscreen, beers blazing and testosterone bursting - who sinks into the couch giggling at her phone for French bulldog puppies on youtube. Why, because my friends, I'm the one who's gonna bring the kool-Aid.

So let's hit it. For God and country, in the name of sports, and beefcakes clashing and tight muscles fluttering in slow motion... let's eat ourselves to a cellulite-d immobile pulp and call it the spirit. Man... gotta love this day.

Here's the game-plan.

First, what's a football party without some sliders? These 2:1 sliders with charred green chili mayo, with patties that are 2 parts meat and 1 part cheese, browning and melting all over the place, is the one that you're looking for.

01.28.2015

In All recipes, Bakery/Pastry, Dairy

LET’S CATCH-A-PURI

MY THOUGHTS STIRRED, AS THEY STIRRED,

INTO A TANGIBLE STRINGY MESS OF RESTLESSNESS.

I thought long and hard about how I should talk to you about this.

I thought about it when I saw it glaring at me, all too long ago, from Tasting Table on their grinning newsletter. I thought about it when I laid sleepless at night, combing through the mental steps of how, and when, I would realize this absurdity in my own kitchen. I auditioned my blunt vocabularies, while pushing the apathetic shopping cart through the even-less agreeable cheese-section in my grocery store… gruyere (gooey?), gouda (gooey-er)?… mozarella (gawh, fuck it…). And speaking of words, I ought to find out how this khachapuri is pronounced… catch-a-puri, catch-a-puri, kah-tch-a-puri? Georgian, is it? I thought I should probably google Georgia, right, I totally should, a place where I felt utterly disconnected from emotionally, and even more so, geographically, as I sank my palm over and over into the quiet, warm, springy dough. I thought, given that it was unquestionably non-traditional, about how I could explain the heightened savouriness and sharpness brought by the added black olive tapenade, as I smeared it across the supple dough. Oh people should definitely hear how tall these cheeses mounted, yes, definitely, how promisingly they talked back through the folded window… reassuring. Most of all, I for sure thought about it when I sagged myself over the hot vent of the oven by the handle, witnessing the yeasted dough puffed and browned, damming an increasingly fluid and active pool of melted cheese, I thought, and sagged, but I promise it was mostly thoughts. Then, when that raw glistening yolk, that damn raw and glistening yolk that slipped over the hot cheese, and touched the cheeks of a chunk of topping butter… my thoughts stirred, as the pool stirred, into a tangible stringy mess of happiness and restlessness.

How, do I talk to you about this…?

01.22.2015

All recipes

PERFECTLY BAKED SAUNA EGGS

SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN 50~55 MINUTES, IS THE FIFTY SHADES OF YELLOW

MY XIAN FAMOUS SPICY CUMIN LAMB HAND-SMASHED NOODLES

ONCE YOU GET THERE, WHATEVER IT TAKES FOR YOU TO GET THERE,

THE REST IS AS EASY AS BIANG

CURRIED LENTIL AND SHRIMP POPCORNS

PANCETTA TARTARE.

WHAT-EH-WHADAT?

PAN-GRILLED MARSHMALLOW TOASTS WITH SEA SALT

SOME SAY WONDERFUL THINGS ARE BORN OUT OF DESPERATIONS.

BEFORE TODAY, I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT SPANDEX.