Iris’s ultimate lunch

**The restaurant:** World Wrapps, inside REI.

**The lunch:** A bowl of white rice with chunks of plain grilled chicken.

**The price:** $3.50.

While we were ordering, the cashier asked, “White rice or brown rice?” Iris tugged at my pant leg and hissed, “White rice.” Then, while eating, she gestured at me with a piece of chicken and said, “This is some good chicken.”

I tasted some (I was having the Thai chicken wrap) and, thanks to my finely honed palate, I can reveal the secret ingredient. Salt.

Smart chopper

Among the many labor-saving devices in Maine was a Cuisinart minichopper, just like a regular food processor only pint-sized. Probably literally. (Okay, I checked, and it’s actually 21 ounces.)

I’ve had an irrational prejudice against these. They take up counter space, and Jacques Pepin and his chef’s knife could easily beat them in a chopping contest. I think I had one and got rid of it. What I wasn’t prepared to admit is that I am not Jacques Pepin.

I made three batches of phad thai in Maine, which meant mincing a dozen shallots and a head of garlic. The minichopper did this just as well as I could have, in a fraction the time, and it was easier to clean than a full-size food processor. This is probably not news to anyone but me.

James Oseland, I now recall, swears by these little machines for making curry pastes. You know, that big mortar and pestle that I never use also takes up counter space.

Mr. Bean

It’s prime green bean season, and one of my favorite things to do with them is braise them in a sort of Thai style. This is not how you’re supposed to treat high-season green beans, but whatever. The recipe is based on one from Mark Bittman a few years ago. That version involves a quartered duck. This is a lot faster.

Trim a pound or two of green beans. Thinly slice several shallots and three or four Thai or serrano chiles. Heat peanut oil in a saute pan and add the shallots. Cook until just beginning to wilt. Add the green beans, chiles, and a healthy shake of fish sauce, and stir to combine. Add a couple teaspoons of sugar (palm sugar if you have it), and half a cup of water, turn the heat down, cover, and simmer until the beans are crisp-tender, maybe 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Uncover and reduce the sauce until syrupy. Squeeze half a lime over, season with additional fish sauce if necessary, and serve.

That said, I attempted to do this the other day, and the green beans I’d bought were stringy, waxy, and inedible. What causes this? Field lice? Evil spirits?