Happy new year, everyone out there in the blog world. It is safe to say that 2013 was filled with moves on the career front, changes in my personal life, and discoveries in the culinary world that made the year quite memorable. I can only hope that 2014 will be full of unforgettable moments as well. Before we traverse across to the delicious things I've already eaten so far in the new year, I want to finish off a post from my birthday in November and a series of posts from my trip to Taiwan in July.
I had been eagerly anticipating the gigantic bowls of fresh fish, seafood and uni over rice for the longest time. My bowl, in particular, was stocked with both salmon and tuna, scallops and sea cucumber, fresh, boiled and salted sea urchin roe, salmon roe, and sweet Japanese tamago. It is a big, big, big bowl. Come hungry, and come early before the massive lunch crowd arrives. Thank you to Vickee, Kevin, and Brian for treating me out the entire weekend. Maruhide Uni Club was a great start to my 28th birthday. Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
ML - 20131122
Showing posts with label salmon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salmon. Show all posts
Friday, January 3, 2014
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Post 64: Taipei - Black White Slice / 台南意麵黑白切 (Taipei: Jhong Jheng District / 台北: 中正區)
Black... white... what?
Well, it's definitely not black white magic... even though it might taste magical. Black and white placed next to each other in any Taiwanese phrase means whatever, anything, a myriad of something. If you black white talk (ouh beh gonh / 黑白講), it means that you're saying something that is black, but you're also saying something that is white... you don't know if you mean one thing or another. In essence, it means you're talking nonsense or talking bullshit.
If you black white walk (ouh beh jow / 黑白走), it means that you are walking here, but you are also walking there... you're wandering, or you have no idea where you're going. So that means that black white slice (ouh beh tzeh / 黑白切) means that you can have slices of this and slices of that... a little bit of everything.
A little bit of this... a little bit of that... and that's exactly how to eat at restaurants that serve in this black white slice style of eating. Upon visiting an ouh beh tzeh restaurant (Taiwanese: ouh beh tzeh, Mandarin: hei bai qie / 黑白切) for the first time, I was greeted first by a refrigerator case running the length of the chef's chopping counter, which is just inches longer than my wingspan. On display in the refrigerator case were all the freshest items that the chef had picked up from the supermarket and anything that the chef felt was suitable for the evening meal. From freshly boiled shrimp to bright red sausage to the greenest asparagus to a thick and tasty meatloaf to glistening white calamari... you name it; the chef's got it.
Point to something. Choose whatever you please. The chef will slice up whatever you want to eat.
The most popular dish at my favorite black white slice institution is actually not in the refrigerator at all. It's goose. And it's located next to the fridge. The chef lays the glorious geese (whole body intact) out for everyone to see. And I mean everyone. It's sitting pretty right at the restaurant's entrance. Walking to your table? Ya can't miss it.
There are usually two types: salted goose or goose with soy sauce... take your pick. The chef tosses fresh basil leaves and thinly sliced fresh ginger around the tender cuts of poultry for an exotic contrast in flavor. He also throws in some sweet chili sauce just to cover any potential gamey taste that it may have. Still apprehensive about goose meat? No worries... it tastes just like chicken.
Whether it's alive or dead, the second of my favorite black white dishes may scare you too.
Perhaps you've had shark fin soup before, but have you ever had the actual meat from a shark? Probably not. I don't know many cultures that consume the meat from a shark. Well, Taiwanese do. And by the way, a shark is a fish too. It's just... a ferocious, fierce looking, predatory kind of fish. If you've seen Nemo, you know that sharks can't possibly be scary... fish are their friends. (Hopefully, you didn't get past the fishaholics anonymous meeting.) But I digress...
Smoked shark meat is really just smoked fish. I'm not going to say it tastes like smoked salmon because it doesn't. It's nowhere close. It's got more of a firm, white fish flavor combined with a soft beef tendon texture. Contrasted with the spicy wasabi and the salty soy sauce paste it's served with, the meat actually has a hint of sweetness. If you're wondering whether it's too tough to chew on, it's not. But it's not fatty either... the meat is actually pretty lean. After all, the shark swims all day looking for friends to play with. Am I not really selling it? Okay, chicken. B'gok! It's just one of those things you have to taste for yourself to understand. And you have to try it once in your life. Ohhhh, so this is shark.
The next item is also something you have to try at least once in your life... Taiwanese stinky tofu. Wow, I just introduced the scariest three items from a black white slice restaurant... goose, shark, and stinky tofu. Good job, Michael.
The tofu is steamed and then simmered in this spicy sauce that is made with tons of garlic, red chili pepper, and Szechwan peppercorn. The tofu is served in a metal dish that gets fired up right in front of you. The on-the-spot simmering and boiling causes wafts of aroma from the spicy sauce to drift past your nose. It's fragrant, not stinky. I dragged my hungry friends from China and France here for dinner. They were a bit apprehensive at every dish I ordered, but I'm not lying when I say that the delicious goose, unique shark dish, and tasty tofu got them hooked on black white cuisine.
But if the trifecta of black white glory doesn't hold your attention, this magical bowl of chek-ah noodles (Taiwanese: chek-ah mi, Mandarin: qie zai mian / 切仔麵) definitely will. What's awesome about these noodles is that it's just noodles and broth... and it goes with each and everything that the chef has sliced up for you. Take a look around the black white restaurant, and you'll notice that every single patron has a steaming bowl of chek-ah mi in front of them. Some even have two bowls... one recently finished empty and one freshly made.
Each bowl of noodles is complete with fresh goose stock and topped off with crunchy, deep fried onions, deep green leek, and crisp bean sprouts. The leeks and fried onions add a depth of flavor to the goose stock. The profound taste of chek-ah noodle soup becomes more of a feeling than just a means of sustenance. It presents a feeling of home and heart, perhaps the same feeling you get when you have Mom's chicken noodle soup in a warm kitchen while the howling winter winds rage on outside.
There's a deftness of chopsticks usage throughout the restaurant. Groups of co-workers, young couples, and even, ahem, friends with their tourist guests work quickly from the spicy tofu to the platter of goose, then quickly again to dip the shark meat into the soy and wasabi combination, all while swiveling noodles up in between bites. The cheap bamboo chopsticks in everyone's hungry hands are stained with red chili oils and dark brown sauces. And bits of fried onion can barely be shaken off with the nimblest of movements. It's a whir of commotion and a blur of action. Don't be surprised if you hear a loud slurping of noodles and broth. After all, it is this simple bowl of noodles that brings the whole meal of black and white together.
But wait. There's more.
The freshest item in the chef's fridge was the cut of salmon. Its orange hue caught my eye, and dreams of sashimi began forming in my head. Not a problem. I pointed to it, and the chef knew that it would pair with my chek-ah noodles perfectly.
Now... I can't say this is the healthiest of meals, but we did have a lot of lean protein (poultry, tofu, fish in two forms). Why not further our health by selecting the two staples of any black white restaurant?
Crisp asparagus (蘆筍) and tender bamboo shoots (竹筍) are both blanched (arguably the most popular way of cooking vegetables in Taiwan) and then served chilled with sweet Japanese mayonnaise as a dip. Both asparagus and bamboo are symbolized by a common Han character (筍), which perhaps is an ancient Sino way of saying that these two vegetables go very well together. Each is sweet, fibrous, crisp and refreshing, and they both snap quickly with a firm bite. And after tons of protein and a bowl of noodles, I think fresh, crisp veggies are the only way to go. Even after my tourist buddy exclaimed that she could eat no more, I caught her chopsticks veering toward the vegetable plates... "Except this." She picks up another piece... "I can still eat this."
Well then, bring on another bowl of noodles! I think we've still got some stinky tofu to finish anyway. Until the next black white whatever, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
Black White Slice (台南意麵黑白切)
台北市 中正區/ Taipei City, Jhong Jheng District
濟南路 2段 53-8號/ Jinan Road, Section 2, No. 63-8
How I get there:
MRT: Zhongxiao Xinsheng Station (捷運忠孝新生站)
exit no. 2; walk through the park;
pass Mos Burger, Starbucks, Formosa Chang, 85度C
make a right at Jinan Road, Section 2 (濟南路 2段)
do not pass the produce store
ML - 20110909
Well, it's definitely not black white magic... even though it might taste magical. Black and white placed next to each other in any Taiwanese phrase means whatever, anything, a myriad of something. If you black white talk (ouh beh gonh / 黑白講), it means that you're saying something that is black, but you're also saying something that is white... you don't know if you mean one thing or another. In essence, it means you're talking nonsense or talking bullshit.
If you black white walk (ouh beh jow / 黑白走), it means that you are walking here, but you are also walking there... you're wandering, or you have no idea where you're going. So that means that black white slice (ouh beh tzeh / 黑白切) means that you can have slices of this and slices of that... a little bit of everything.
A little bit of this... a little bit of that... and that's exactly how to eat at restaurants that serve in this black white slice style of eating. Upon visiting an ouh beh tzeh restaurant (Taiwanese: ouh beh tzeh, Mandarin: hei bai qie / 黑白切) for the first time, I was greeted first by a refrigerator case running the length of the chef's chopping counter, which is just inches longer than my wingspan. On display in the refrigerator case were all the freshest items that the chef had picked up from the supermarket and anything that the chef felt was suitable for the evening meal. From freshly boiled shrimp to bright red sausage to the greenest asparagus to a thick and tasty meatloaf to glistening white calamari... you name it; the chef's got it.
Point to something. Choose whatever you please. The chef will slice up whatever you want to eat.
The most popular dish at my favorite black white slice institution is actually not in the refrigerator at all. It's goose. And it's located next to the fridge. The chef lays the glorious geese (whole body intact) out for everyone to see. And I mean everyone. It's sitting pretty right at the restaurant's entrance. Walking to your table? Ya can't miss it.
There are usually two types: salted goose or goose with soy sauce... take your pick. The chef tosses fresh basil leaves and thinly sliced fresh ginger around the tender cuts of poultry for an exotic contrast in flavor. He also throws in some sweet chili sauce just to cover any potential gamey taste that it may have. Still apprehensive about goose meat? No worries... it tastes just like chicken.
Whether it's alive or dead, the second of my favorite black white dishes may scare you too.
Perhaps you've had shark fin soup before, but have you ever had the actual meat from a shark? Probably not. I don't know many cultures that consume the meat from a shark. Well, Taiwanese do. And by the way, a shark is a fish too. It's just... a ferocious, fierce looking, predatory kind of fish. If you've seen Nemo, you know that sharks can't possibly be scary... fish are their friends. (Hopefully, you didn't get past the fishaholics anonymous meeting.) But I digress...
Smoked shark meat is really just smoked fish. I'm not going to say it tastes like smoked salmon because it doesn't. It's nowhere close. It's got more of a firm, white fish flavor combined with a soft beef tendon texture. Contrasted with the spicy wasabi and the salty soy sauce paste it's served with, the meat actually has a hint of sweetness. If you're wondering whether it's too tough to chew on, it's not. But it's not fatty either... the meat is actually pretty lean. After all, the shark swims all day looking for friends to play with. Am I not really selling it? Okay, chicken. B'gok! It's just one of those things you have to taste for yourself to understand. And you have to try it once in your life. Ohhhh, so this is shark.
The next item is also something you have to try at least once in your life... Taiwanese stinky tofu. Wow, I just introduced the scariest three items from a black white slice restaurant... goose, shark, and stinky tofu. Good job, Michael.
The tofu is steamed and then simmered in this spicy sauce that is made with tons of garlic, red chili pepper, and Szechwan peppercorn. The tofu is served in a metal dish that gets fired up right in front of you. The on-the-spot simmering and boiling causes wafts of aroma from the spicy sauce to drift past your nose. It's fragrant, not stinky. I dragged my hungry friends from China and France here for dinner. They were a bit apprehensive at every dish I ordered, but I'm not lying when I say that the delicious goose, unique shark dish, and tasty tofu got them hooked on black white cuisine.
But if the trifecta of black white glory doesn't hold your attention, this magical bowl of chek-ah noodles (Taiwanese: chek-ah mi, Mandarin: qie zai mian / 切仔麵) definitely will. What's awesome about these noodles is that it's just noodles and broth... and it goes with each and everything that the chef has sliced up for you. Take a look around the black white restaurant, and you'll notice that every single patron has a steaming bowl of chek-ah mi in front of them. Some even have two bowls... one recently finished empty and one freshly made.
Each bowl of noodles is complete with fresh goose stock and topped off with crunchy, deep fried onions, deep green leek, and crisp bean sprouts. The leeks and fried onions add a depth of flavor to the goose stock. The profound taste of chek-ah noodle soup becomes more of a feeling than just a means of sustenance. It presents a feeling of home and heart, perhaps the same feeling you get when you have Mom's chicken noodle soup in a warm kitchen while the howling winter winds rage on outside.
There's a deftness of chopsticks usage throughout the restaurant. Groups of co-workers, young couples, and even, ahem, friends with their tourist guests work quickly from the spicy tofu to the platter of goose, then quickly again to dip the shark meat into the soy and wasabi combination, all while swiveling noodles up in between bites. The cheap bamboo chopsticks in everyone's hungry hands are stained with red chili oils and dark brown sauces. And bits of fried onion can barely be shaken off with the nimblest of movements. It's a whir of commotion and a blur of action. Don't be surprised if you hear a loud slurping of noodles and broth. After all, it is this simple bowl of noodles that brings the whole meal of black and white together.
But wait. There's more.
The freshest item in the chef's fridge was the cut of salmon. Its orange hue caught my eye, and dreams of sashimi began forming in my head. Not a problem. I pointed to it, and the chef knew that it would pair with my chek-ah noodles perfectly.
Now... I can't say this is the healthiest of meals, but we did have a lot of lean protein (poultry, tofu, fish in two forms). Why not further our health by selecting the two staples of any black white restaurant?
Crisp asparagus (蘆筍) and tender bamboo shoots (竹筍) are both blanched (arguably the most popular way of cooking vegetables in Taiwan) and then served chilled with sweet Japanese mayonnaise as a dip. Both asparagus and bamboo are symbolized by a common Han character (筍), which perhaps is an ancient Sino way of saying that these two vegetables go very well together. Each is sweet, fibrous, crisp and refreshing, and they both snap quickly with a firm bite. And after tons of protein and a bowl of noodles, I think fresh, crisp veggies are the only way to go. Even after my tourist buddy exclaimed that she could eat no more, I caught her chopsticks veering toward the vegetable plates... "Except this." She picks up another piece... "I can still eat this."
Well then, bring on another bowl of noodles! I think we've still got some stinky tofu to finish anyway. Until the next black white whatever, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
Black White Slice (台南意麵黑白切)
台北市 中正區/ Taipei City, Jhong Jheng District
濟南路 2段 53-8號/ Jinan Road, Section 2, No. 63-8
How I get there:
MRT: Zhongxiao Xinsheng Station (捷運忠孝新生站)
exit no. 2; walk through the park;
pass Mos Burger, Starbucks, Formosa Chang, 85度C
make a right at Jinan Road, Section 2 (濟南路 2段)
do not pass the produce store
ML - 20110909
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Post 58: Be Happy... Chatting over Tartare (LA: Beverly Hills)
Back when I still had full use and employment of my teeth, a long lost friend and I decided to throw on our bourgeois attitude and roll up to Chaya for a five-course chef's tasting. I had B.H. tattooed on my aura for that meal. And if the letters B and H didn't mean Beverly Hills at that time, it meant be happy for the two of us. And we were as happy as two long, lost friends could possibly be... we watched beautiful people sit and just be as beautiful as their food... and we chatted as puffy, white clouds rolled away in the big, blue sky... and we chatted as the big, orange star we call the sun lowered itself to cast a shady gloom over my risotto... and we chatted until the last dollop of vanilla caramel ice cream camouflaged itself against the ceramic dish it came in. These are the three dishes from Chaya Brasserie that made us the most happy.
Melon y jamon
compressed melon, burrata cheese, salame, arugula, aged balsamic vinegar reduction
The first time I had melon and cured Italian meat in combination, I was a recent high school graduate vacationing with family in Canada of all places. It was the Fairmont resort somewhere in the wilderness of Alberta that introduced me to my first combination of sweet melon and salty Italian prosciutto. I hadn't had a serious relationship at the time, but I knew I was in love.
There's something about the contrasting sweet and salty flavors and the rough and smooth textures that makes complete sense... like when smooth slices of salty ham is placed on top of fibrous triangles of pineapple on pizza... when sprinkles of course sea salt is introduced to smooth, sweet caramel anything. I love that I can take the salami or prosciutto and fold it over a freshly cut piece of melon. I breathe a sigh of happiness when I do it... as if burdens have been lifted from my shoulders and pressures from life tip toe away from my heart. I feel the same comfort when I wrap myself in blankets at bedtime. It's not the same blanket wrap that I do when I'm freezing in the middle of winter or the blanket wrap that I do at the end of a tough day. It's a light, delicate wrap. A peaceful one that produces a sigh of happiness. The kind you do on vacation. Yes, that one. And each bite is like having your head hit the fluffiest of down pillows... again and again... happiness.
compressed melon, burrata cheese, salame, arugula, aged balsamic vinegar reduction
The first time I had melon and cured Italian meat in combination, I was a recent high school graduate vacationing with family in Canada of all places. It was the Fairmont resort somewhere in the wilderness of Alberta that introduced me to my first combination of sweet melon and salty Italian prosciutto. I hadn't had a serious relationship at the time, but I knew I was in love.
There's something about the contrasting sweet and salty flavors and the rough and smooth textures that makes complete sense... like when smooth slices of salty ham is placed on top of fibrous triangles of pineapple on pizza... when sprinkles of course sea salt is introduced to smooth, sweet caramel anything. I love that I can take the salami or prosciutto and fold it over a freshly cut piece of melon. I breathe a sigh of happiness when I do it... as if burdens have been lifted from my shoulders and pressures from life tip toe away from my heart. I feel the same comfort when I wrap myself in blankets at bedtime. It's not the same blanket wrap that I do when I'm freezing in the middle of winter or the blanket wrap that I do at the end of a tough day. It's a light, delicate wrap. A peaceful one that produces a sigh of happiness. The kind you do on vacation. Yes, that one. And each bite is like having your head hit the fluffiest of down pillows... again and again... happiness.
Salmon tartare and mi-cuit
tartare: wasabi tobiko, cilantro blossom, pickled daikon radish squares
cucumber raita, wild arugula, ahi amarillo aioli, seaweed jelly
mi-cuit: sovid, wasabi creme fraiche
It's not quite tuna tartare yet not quite salmon sashimi... it's a profound dish in its own right. The seemingly simple dish of salmon tartare actually produced a couple of wows. The tenderness of the salmon protein became even more supple as the light layer of olive oil marinated with the salmon's own natural lipids. Is anyone thinking about bikini mud wrestling besides me? Not so much? Hey, the analogy works.
What else works are the uniquely shaped but uniformly sized pieces of salmon. They fit together like a chaotically constructed Jenga set teetering on the edge of collapse, yet they remain as stable as the Bird's Nest in Beijing. So rather than being distracted by which piece of salmon is bigger or smaller than the other, the tongue can simply relax and focus on how fresh the salmon is... and the brain can say, "wow, this is good... wow, wow, wow." The brain will be so pleasured by the bliss of deliciousness that it won't know it's fish at all.
tartare: wasabi tobiko, cilantro blossom, pickled daikon radish squares
cucumber raita, wild arugula, ahi amarillo aioli, seaweed jelly
mi-cuit: sovid, wasabi creme fraiche
It's not quite tuna tartare yet not quite salmon sashimi... it's a profound dish in its own right. The seemingly simple dish of salmon tartare actually produced a couple of wows. The tenderness of the salmon protein became even more supple as the light layer of olive oil marinated with the salmon's own natural lipids. Is anyone thinking about bikini mud wrestling besides me? Not so much? Hey, the analogy works.
What else works are the uniquely shaped but uniformly sized pieces of salmon. They fit together like a chaotically constructed Jenga set teetering on the edge of collapse, yet they remain as stable as the Bird's Nest in Beijing. So rather than being distracted by which piece of salmon is bigger or smaller than the other, the tongue can simply relax and focus on how fresh the salmon is... and the brain can say, "wow, this is good... wow, wow, wow." The brain will be so pleasured by the bliss of deliciousness that it won't know it's fish at all.
Spring pea risotto
Japanese green risotto, sugar snaps, English peas
Parmesan, mascarpone, curry, basil, confetti flowers
Japanese green risotto, sugar snaps, English peas
Parmesan, mascarpone, curry, basil, confetti flowers
Normally I wouldn't find rice and vegetables to be very exciting, but the spring pea risotto invoked a sense of happy relaxation in me. It was as beautiful tasting as it was beautiful looking, albeit the image was marred by both the lack of natural lighting and my lack of savvy with photo editing. But no matter... what's good is still good.
The feeling of intense absence of tension in my body was brought by the sudden surprise of curry in the waves of creamy rice. I had a feeling that it was Japanese curry powder, which unlike Thai or Indian curries, is a bit more subtle and slightly sweet. The taste is not as prickly on the tongue as a Thai green curry or an Indian masala. Other surprises came in the form of a pea here and a pea there, just the right amount of healthy vileness and just the right amount of pleasant, non-shocking discovery. This was the kind of dish that I could eat by the pool. I wouldn't mind replacing the obligatory poolside cocktail with this risotto dish either. Swirling a big, metal spoon around in creamy, not firm, not mushy, perfectly spiced rice is so much more gratifying that twirling a swizzle stick in a martini glass. It's just not the same.
The feeling of intense absence of tension in my body was brought by the sudden surprise of curry in the waves of creamy rice. I had a feeling that it was Japanese curry powder, which unlike Thai or Indian curries, is a bit more subtle and slightly sweet. The taste is not as prickly on the tongue as a Thai green curry or an Indian masala. Other surprises came in the form of a pea here and a pea there, just the right amount of healthy vileness and just the right amount of pleasant, non-shocking discovery. This was the kind of dish that I could eat by the pool. I wouldn't mind replacing the obligatory poolside cocktail with this risotto dish either. Swirling a big, metal spoon around in creamy, not firm, not mushy, perfectly spiced rice is so much more gratifying that twirling a swizzle stick in a martini glass. It's just not the same.
The final dish was a beef duo of short rib and tenderloin with porcini puree and daube sauce. It was... alright. And the dessert tasting was a chocolate croissant bread pudding with vanilla caramel ice cream. I was already too happy to be bothered with a sugar high. But no matter... good food and a good friend to jumpstart a Friday evening creates a casual, lingering happiness that carries over into the start of Saturday. To the start of a happy weekend, everyone... let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
Esther of e*star LA posted on her off-menu tastings at Chaya Brasserie here.
ML - 20110610
Esther of e*star LA posted on her off-menu tastings at Chaya Brasserie here.
ML - 20110610
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Post 54: Sushi for the Soul (SD: Pacific Beach)
It's been a while since I've had a nice meal.
I've come to realize that I need a nice meal every so often just to rejuvenate my soul. It doesn't necessarily have to be an expensive meal or have extravagant presentation, and it doesn't require swift customer service. It's just got to feel healthy. And by healthy I don't mean five fruits and vegetables or whole grains... I mean emotionally and mentally healthy... something that's just good for your soul.
So after a brisk run on the sands of Ocean Beach, Allie and I chased our workout with a nice breakfast at To The Point Café. The replenishment was a chicken apple sausage egg sandwich held together by a buttery croissant with pesto cream cheese. And the reward came in the form of mimosas... a traditional one for me and a lavender lemonade mimosa for Allie. Thumbs up for Sunday mornings.
But that wasn't our nice meal. Our nice meal was spent at Sushi Ota in Pacific Beach. We sipped hot green tea, eavesdropped on the conversations from neighboring tables, and watched the quick movements of the Japanese restaurant. And we did this while enjoying a platter of fresh yellowtail (hamachi) sashimi, a deluxe chirashi, and the fisherman's roll. That was definitely some sushi for the soul.
The hamachi, a favorite for both me and Allie, was fresh enough to melt in your mouth. Five beautifully carved, diamond-shaped pieces fanned out across the porcelain white plate, each piece that stood behind the first increased in size on a mound of shredded daikon and shiso. And a drop of wasabi adorned the corner of the plate like the mole just above Niki Taylor's lip. Simply beautiful. And who cares if the yellowtail was from the radiated waters of Japan? I'm ready for my superhuman power, preferably the power to move things with my mind.
Our deluxe chirashi included that same yellowtail, sweet shrimp (ebi), salmon (sake), whitefish, octopus (tako), sea urchin roe (uni), squid (ika) stuffed with fresh crab meat, tuna (maguro), freshwater eel (unagi), fatty tuna (toro), and egg (tamago) that was stamped with the Ota authentic seal of approval. Staring at this stunning box of rice and fish I completely forgot about the pickles (tsukemono) and the salmon croquette off to the side.
The fisherman's roll is what sealed the deal for us. Whitefish and avocado hide within the rice and nori, and two kinds of onion sit atop of the roll. Onions that were fried to a crisp provided the foundation for the topping of expertly sliced, raw green onions. More yellowtail? Yes, please. Slices of the beautiful sakana hung over each piece of sushi... like the smiling cheese from an In-N-Out Double Double... like the tongue of a hungry dog waiting for a juicy steak... or more like my tongue hanging out of my own mouth. Man, just look at that sushi. I'd hang a picture of this on my wall any day.
If that's not sushi for the soul, I don't know what is. Replenished, stuffed to the brim, and happy as a clam, I declared, "I don't want to go to work tomorrow!"
But I knew I was ready for Monday morning. Until the next nice meal, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
ML - 20110522
I've come to realize that I need a nice meal every so often just to rejuvenate my soul. It doesn't necessarily have to be an expensive meal or have extravagant presentation, and it doesn't require swift customer service. It's just got to feel healthy. And by healthy I don't mean five fruits and vegetables or whole grains... I mean emotionally and mentally healthy... something that's just good for your soul.
So after a brisk run on the sands of Ocean Beach, Allie and I chased our workout with a nice breakfast at To The Point Café. The replenishment was a chicken apple sausage egg sandwich held together by a buttery croissant with pesto cream cheese. And the reward came in the form of mimosas... a traditional one for me and a lavender lemonade mimosa for Allie. Thumbs up for Sunday mornings.
But that wasn't our nice meal. Our nice meal was spent at Sushi Ota in Pacific Beach. We sipped hot green tea, eavesdropped on the conversations from neighboring tables, and watched the quick movements of the Japanese restaurant. And we did this while enjoying a platter of fresh yellowtail (hamachi) sashimi, a deluxe chirashi, and the fisherman's roll. That was definitely some sushi for the soul.
The hamachi, a favorite for both me and Allie, was fresh enough to melt in your mouth. Five beautifully carved, diamond-shaped pieces fanned out across the porcelain white plate, each piece that stood behind the first increased in size on a mound of shredded daikon and shiso. And a drop of wasabi adorned the corner of the plate like the mole just above Niki Taylor's lip. Simply beautiful. And who cares if the yellowtail was from the radiated waters of Japan? I'm ready for my superhuman power, preferably the power to move things with my mind.
Our deluxe chirashi included that same yellowtail, sweet shrimp (ebi), salmon (sake), whitefish, octopus (tako), sea urchin roe (uni), squid (ika) stuffed with fresh crab meat, tuna (maguro), freshwater eel (unagi), fatty tuna (toro), and egg (tamago) that was stamped with the Ota authentic seal of approval. Staring at this stunning box of rice and fish I completely forgot about the pickles (tsukemono) and the salmon croquette off to the side.
The fisherman's roll is what sealed the deal for us. Whitefish and avocado hide within the rice and nori, and two kinds of onion sit atop of the roll. Onions that were fried to a crisp provided the foundation for the topping of expertly sliced, raw green onions. More yellowtail? Yes, please. Slices of the beautiful sakana hung over each piece of sushi... like the smiling cheese from an In-N-Out Double Double... like the tongue of a hungry dog waiting for a juicy steak... or more like my tongue hanging out of my own mouth. Man, just look at that sushi. I'd hang a picture of this on my wall any day.
If that's not sushi for the soul, I don't know what is. Replenished, stuffed to the brim, and happy as a clam, I declared, "I don't want to go to work tomorrow!"
But I knew I was ready for Monday morning. Until the next nice meal, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
ML - 20110522
Friday, February 18, 2011
Post 45: Oh Mah Gahh...Omakase! (LA-South Bay: Torrance)
The omakase that we had for Ashley's birthday was an inspiring way to start off the new year. I've had the omakase at Kantaro Sushi in Torrance before, but I left my camera at home the last time. Luckily, I remembered to bring it this time so I could document some of the whoa moments of the meal.
Tuna sausage with cucumber, potato salad with corn
B-b-sole and tuna sashimi with ponzu, ankimo monkfish liver
When Duke first saw the pictures from the meal, I remember him saying that some of the courses looked pretty intense. The first sashimi course with the entire fish chillin' right on the plate was definitely intense. I mean... we were eating the flesh of the fish while the body was lying right in front of us. Intense.
Bluefin toro and amber jack sushi, hirame halibut and ika squid sushi
Deep-fried whole b-b-sole with nuggets and roe
Alaskan ikura salmon roe and Santa Barbara uni sea urchin sushi
Anago freshwater eel, spicy tuna hand roll and organic tamago egg
Mini chirashi and salmon sushi with cream cheese
But what else would omakase be? Omakase is the chef's table. It's his way of showing the guest how skillful, creative, and imaginative he can be. It's gotta be intense.
The only other place I've ever had omakase was at Wakasan in Westwood... another birthday outing. Wakasan's omakase involves more hot food items such as croquettes, hamburger steak on cast iron grills, chicken hot pot, etc. That experience, just like this one, was intense. You can read about it on Duke's blog.
Azuki red bean ice cream for dessert
Happy birthday, Ashley!
And thanks for the description, Duke. That one word said it all.
Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
Tuna sausage with cucumber, potato salad with corn
B-b-sole and tuna sashimi with ponzu, ankimo monkfish liver
When Duke first saw the pictures from the meal, I remember him saying that some of the courses looked pretty intense. The first sashimi course with the entire fish chillin' right on the plate was definitely intense. I mean... we were eating the flesh of the fish while the body was lying right in front of us. Intense.
Bluefin toro and amber jack sushi, hirame halibut and ika squid sushi
Deep-fried whole b-b-sole with nuggets and roe
Later, that same fish was grabbed from our plates with bare hands. The cute little missus of the restaurant (do I call her Mrs. Kantaro?) whisked the dreary, gray fish carcass away to the kitchen only to return with a golden, deep-fried whole fish. That was definitely intense.
Anago freshwater eel, spicy tuna hand roll and organic tamago egg
Mini chirashi and salmon sushi with cream cheese
But what else would omakase be? Omakase is the chef's table. It's his way of showing the guest how skillful, creative, and imaginative he can be. It's gotta be intense.
The only other place I've ever had omakase was at Wakasan in Westwood... another birthday outing. Wakasan's omakase involves more hot food items such as croquettes, hamburger steak on cast iron grills, chicken hot pot, etc. That experience, just like this one, was intense. You can read about it on Duke's blog.
Azuki red bean ice cream for dessert
Happy birthday, Ashley!
And thanks for the description, Duke. That one word said it all.
Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
ML - 20110108
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Post 41: Harmonious Presentation
The night before the trip to the Happiest Place on Earth, my dad prepared some simple dishes just to help celebrate the occasion. It was probably more presentation than actual preparation, but regardless, the dishes looked very... err... harmonious... like they were all coexisting quite peacefully together. Here are some of the more beautifully arranged dishes.
A gleaming assortment of fruit.
Green grapes, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries.
Fruit tastes best when someone else washes and peels it for you.
Abalone sashimi still chillin' in its shell.
Just a tiny squeeze of lemon and a hint of wasabi is enough.
This is my abalone. Sea otters, stay away.
Ika and ikura.
The salty salmon roe on a bed of fluffy steamed white rice is a favorite.
The hexagon of appetizers.
Saltwater chicken, salmon sashimi, octopus sashimi up front.
Smoked duck with ginger, braised beef, yellowtail sashimi in the back.
Mango mousse cake.
Frances Bakery in Little Tokyo has the most fragrant and flavorful mango mousse.
Our family has been coming here for more than 25 years.
I was a very happy camper after this meal. But watching my dad put together a meal reminds me of where my passion for food comes from. Like father like son, I guess...
Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
ML - 20101130/20101120
Green grapes, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries.
Fruit tastes best when someone else washes and peels it for you.
Just a tiny squeeze of lemon and a hint of wasabi is enough.
This is my abalone. Sea otters, stay away.
The salty salmon roe on a bed of fluffy steamed white rice is a favorite.
Saltwater chicken, salmon sashimi, octopus sashimi up front.
Smoked duck with ginger, braised beef, yellowtail sashimi in the back.
Frances Bakery in Little Tokyo has the most fragrant and flavorful mango mousse.
Our family has been coming here for more than 25 years.
I was a very happy camper after this meal. But watching my dad put together a meal reminds me of where my passion for food comes from. Like father like son, I guess...
Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.
ML - 20101130/20101120
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Post 40: Club 33 and Disneyland (OC: Anaheim)
My actual birthday had finally arrived, and some very good friends of mine kidnapped me to the Happiest Place on Earth... somewhere I haven't been since high school. The churros were as expensive as I had remembered... the Dole pineapple whip soft-serve was completely new to me... and the satay skewers from Bengal were simply awesome... but Club 33 trumped all.
Club 33 is located at 33 Royal Street just a few doors down from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride exit. We found the buzzer (there are two... the lower one leads nowhere) next to the pale green door hidden between 31 and 35 Royal Street. A receptionist answered, welcomed us in from the freezing cold, took our jackets and put us through the lift (she corrected me and said it wasn't an elevator) to the second floor.
We rode our favorites, had lunch at a hidden restaurant and watched World of Color on the California Adventure side of the park. It was absolutely freezing, which implied that it was a bad idea to ride Splash Mountain... but the absolute lack of a line beckoned us. Three of us are now sniffling, sneezing, and hacking our lives away (someone may even have a sinus infection), but it was all worth it.
The weather forecast called for rain, but there was no rain. Just a few clouds skipping across the sky... on the run to Space Mountain, we caught a glimpse of the full moon hiding behind the clouds. If it hadn't been there, the smiles from the sea of children were enough to light up the night sky.
The fountains at Bellagio in Vegas were the first to inspire my return to an organically constructed body of water, but the World of Color will guarantee my return. Apparently the World of Color gets updated every so often... will this motivate me to buy an annual pass? Smart move, Disney...
The day started off with a bit of confusion... where was I to spend the day? Clues: outdoors, need comfortable walking shoes, somewhere between LA and San Diego... there was only one place in my mind. And it ended with nothing but certainty for me... I have the best friends in the world.
ML - 20101124/20101121
Club 33 is located at 33 Royal Street just a few doors down from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride exit. We found the buzzer (there are two... the lower one leads nowhere) next to the pale green door hidden between 31 and 35 Royal Street. A receptionist answered, welcomed us in from the freezing cold, took our jackets and put us through the lift (she corrected me and said it wasn't an elevator) to the second floor.
The inside was a world apart from the hustle and bustle of New Orleans Square. Ornate decorations adorned the walls... props from Disney movies stood in the walkways... Mickey's ears formed the finger grip of the martini swizzle sticks... there were no screaming children here, but it was still definitively Disney.
Never mind that the chicken was a bit dry or that the salmon tasted more like the char than the fish itself... the chateaubriand was awesome, and the risotto made me think twice about rice. Mickey and Pluto were there to celebrate with me and the dozens of other birthday boys and girls in the restaurant. I was just happy to be there with some of my favorite people in the world...
We rode our favorites, had lunch at a hidden restaurant and watched World of Color on the California Adventure side of the park. It was absolutely freezing, which implied that it was a bad idea to ride Splash Mountain... but the absolute lack of a line beckoned us. Three of us are now sniffling, sneezing, and hacking our lives away (someone may even have a sinus infection), but it was all worth it.
The weather forecast called for rain, but there was no rain. Just a few clouds skipping across the sky... on the run to Space Mountain, we caught a glimpse of the full moon hiding behind the clouds. If it hadn't been there, the smiles from the sea of children were enough to light up the night sky.
The fountains at Bellagio in Vegas were the first to inspire my return to an organically constructed body of water, but the World of Color will guarantee my return. Apparently the World of Color gets updated every so often... will this motivate me to buy an annual pass? Smart move, Disney...
The day started off with a bit of confusion... where was I to spend the day? Clues: outdoors, need comfortable walking shoes, somewhere between LA and San Diego... there was only one place in my mind. And it ended with nothing but certainty for me... I have the best friends in the world.
ML - 20101124/20101121
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