160. Please Experience the Softness of Kakuni Pork at Tsujita LA (West LA: Sawtelle)

Grace and I stopped by Tsujita LA Artisan Noodle for their ever popular tsukemen for dinner, but we found out that this main location serves the famous noodles only during the lunch rush.  We were not the only guests that were met with this unexpected news... but while everyone else crossed the street over to Tsujita Annex where the ramen is served during dinner, the two of us stayed to explore the evening menu.


The uni tempura with matcha sea salt combined some of my favorite Japanese ingredients with an adored method of preparation.  For this dish, a shiso leaf is dipped into tempura batter on one side only and deep fried to an unbelievable crisp.  Next, luxuriously creamy pieces of fresh sea urchin roe top the delicate and crunchy shiso.  Finally, sea salt blended with traditional green tea powder is sprinkled over the top.  The sea urchin itself is not actually cooked, thankfully, because only raw uni is ever so rich and creamy.  This uni tempura is unforgettable and must be ordered.

Since it was promised to be super fresh, we also got the sea urchin in uni shooter form.  Hidden under the cover of quail egg and green onion was fresh urchin with ponzu sauce.  It was cleverly presented, but it isn't my preferred way to savor fresh uni.

Okay, hold onto your chopsticks.  The one dish that Grace and I could not stop fawning over was the pork kakuni plate.  It is basically a cube of fatty pork belly that is slowly stewed in soy and sauce along with other spices until the fat renders down and infuses itself back into the meat.  The menu suggests to "please experience the softness," which is exactly what we did.  When we tried to break off pieces of it to eat over the rice, the sinews of the pork pulled apart the way melted cheese would on a pizza.  It was juicy beyond comprehension, succulent beyond compare, and tender beyond all possibility.  It melts in your mouth.  It really melts.  You barely have to chew.

The eggs and greens are a nice addition, but they pale in comparison to the pork.  Because the pork is so fatty, the greens perhaps may have been better served outside of the sugary soy sauce... and to really complement the supple texture of the pork, a soft boiled egg with the orgasmic runny yolk would have been a wise choice.  But forget about the sidekicks.  The star is the soft kakuni pork.  I don't even recall picking up the miso soup.

While it isn't something many would think to order, the handmade tofu with green onions and grated ginger is highly recommended as well.  Anytime tofu or cheese is made my hand, there is extra depth to the flavor possibly due to the naturally imperfect textures of the curd.  It tastes much fresher and less processed.  But who wants tofu when you can have delicious pork belly? It's not to be missed.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Tsujita LA Artisan Noodle
2057 Sawtelle Blvd.
Sawtelle, West LA
Los Angeles, CA 90025

ML - 20131017

123. The Savory Uni Goma Tofu from Aburiya Toranoko (LA: Downtown/Little Tokyo)

Finally finished with the 12-post series on Portland, I am now turning my attention back home to a restaurant in Little Tokyo called Aburiya Toranoko.  This sushi bar and izakaya has an extensive menu with nearly 100 appetizers, entrees, sumiyaki skewers, sushi and sashimi selections.  However, after tasting the fresh oysters with ponzu sauce, various grilled skewers, and the obligatory fried chicken karaage, I knew that there was one dish that stood out to me.  The savory uni goma tofu made me gush with delight as it has done with esteemed writers such as Jonathan Gold.

Uni goma tofu, wedges of sea urchin roe laid out ever so carefully across a perfectly square cube of tofu made of ground sesame, is served in a fist sized teacup with a puddle of sexy soy sauce at the bottom.  It is the star of the Toranoko menu, and it wowed upon first and every subsequent bite.  The tofu is savory... it is smooth... and it is packed with sesame flavor.  Cutting into it with your spoon is like diving into a savory custard or firm pudding.  It is almost flan-like, and you can savor it by swirling it over the waves of your tongue over and over again until the very last bite.  It is the most recent amazing-delicious moment that I have had, and I must have more.  Made in house by the chefs themselves, it is something that everyone who is a fan of Japanese food should taste.

Other items that we ordered include the tsukune burger made with chicken meatballs and topped with bacon, the succulent braised buta kakuni, and the squid ink and clams risotto.  A few Toranoko crafted cocktails, such as the shiso leaf martini, can round out your experience here in this dimly lit social gathering spot. 

Special thanks goes out to Mr. Ken Lee and his brother John for entertaining that night and introducing me to the very gracious restaurant management.  Until the next amazing-delicious moment, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Read Jonathan Gold's First Bite of the uni goma tofu from Aburiya Toranoko here.

ML - 20130402

Post 63: Taipei - More Szechwan Flavors / 更多川味 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

Although beef noodle soup is the supposed national dish of Taiwan, it is rumored to have origins in the Szechwan region of China.  Since its creation, beef noodle soup has been altered by the many generations of Taiwanese to what it is today.  However, other Szechwan-branded dishes such as mapo tofu (麻婆豆腐), hot and sour soup (酸辣湯), and dan dan noodles (擔擔麵) have generally remained constant throughout their culinary histories.  There may have been substitutions for different or better quality ingredients and perhaps slight tweaks in flavors to suit regional palates, but for the most part, these famous items are still considered Szechwan dishes.  Chili House Restaurant (四川吳抄手) in Taipei is a great place for a taste of these traditional spicy Szechwan flavors... but it's also a great place for discovering some non-spicy items too.



On my previous visits to the restaurant, I had ordered the usuals: red chili wontons (紅油抄手), super spicy mala noodles (麻辣麵) that numb your tongue, and hot and sour cabbage pork (酸白菜肉絲) wrapped in steamed shaobing pockets (燒餅).  This time, though, I had a sudden craving for fatty pork.  I doubt the Szechwan origins of this dish, especially because the only remotely spicy ingredient in it is minced garlic, but hey, a craving is a craving.  The English translation of this dish is cold white cut pork slices (蒜泥白肉), which doesn't sound appetizing in the least... so let's just use my translation: fatty pork in minced garlic and soy sauce.  Yum!

Hey, that's exactly what it is, anyway.  Lean slices of pork, which are blanched just quick enough to cook the meat, are bordered by thin, wrinkles of fat without a hint of grease.  Before anything else is done to the pork, it's chilled so that the meat becomes stretchy and tender, and the curls of fat on the pork taste almost al dente.  Soy sauce paste, a thickened and more pungent version of soy sauce that is widely used in Taiwanese cooking, is later drizzled over the top of the meat.  And the minced garlic? Already in the soy sauce paste.  No need for rice.  It's like chomping on bacon and not worrying about the eggs.

But I guess you can't really eat at a restaurant that serves Szechwan cuisine without ordering any spicy food at all right? Bring the red chili wontons, please.  In fact, these red chili wontons are exactly what anyone coming to this restaurant should order.  After all, the name of the wonton dish (紅油抄手) is in the name of the restaurant (四川吳抄手). 

The chili wontons come six in an order, and they come sitting in a puddle of soy and chili oil... unmixed.  You can relish in the tossing, mixing, and marinating of the flappy, Chinese ravioli before indulging in these bite-size poppers.  They're mouthfuls of savory, salty, and spicy bliss.  And what's even better is that you put effort into these one-bite wonders, and you know... it always tastes better if you've had a hand in the work.

After devouring half a dozen little fists of cloud-like wontons, I dug my chopsticks into the mound of hot and sour cold noodles (冰鎮酸辣麵).  The noodles were topped off with Chinese celery, chili and chili oil, green onions, sesame, and bean sprouts... a combination of of ingredients that provided notes of sour tang and chilled bursts of crunchy refreshment.  The celery, sesame, and sprouts opened the way to cooling off during the hot and humid Taipei summer afternoon.



A bowl of noodles usually sustains my hunger, but after discovering the refreshing delight from the Chinese celery and bean sprouts, I perused the menu for another vegetable dish.  Typical Szechwan vegetable dishes include dry fried green beans (乾煸四季豆) and fish fragrant garlic eggplant (魚香茄子), but somehow I landed on a tofu dish that contained more seafood than it did veggies.  The treasure chest of seafood (海至尊) came in a shallow dish filled to the brim with kryptonite green peas, cubes of diced sea cucumber, shrimp, clams, squid, and smoked ham submerged in a sauce made from salted egg yolk.

This was the most disturbing looking dish of the meal.  Perhaps the house specialty appetizer, bean sprouts wrapped in tofu skin (芝麻豆皮捲豆芽), was a better choice just based simply on appearance.  But this pool of sulfuric tofu was actually pretty tasty.  Each item of seafood was diced to the size of the tofu, which meant every bite had equal parts of tender tofu and springy seafood.  The salted egg yolk gave the dish a hearty and homemade taste while binding the plethora of ingredients together.  It looked ugly, but it tasted pretty damned good.  Hey, we aren't supposed to judge a book by its cover anyway, right?

One tofu dish led to another tofu dish... except the next tofu dish was a dessert, and it came compliments of the restaurant.  Almond tofu (杏仁豆腐) is typically a simple, homestyle dessert, but I understand why it's offered after a spicy meal.  The soft jello (it's not really tofu) has an almond fragrance with a sweet taste that soothes the tongue better than any other spice retardant... better than iced water or cold milk.  With or without spicy food, the springy, jiggly tofu in disguise was a great way to end any meal. 

Chili House has become a regular stop for me whenever I get a chance to visit Taipei.  Hopefully, everyone finds their own favorite spicy, Szechwan stop.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Chili House Restaurant (四川吳抄手)

台北市 大安區/ Taipei City, Da An District

忠孝東路 4段 250之3號 / Zhongxiao East Road, Section 4, No. 250-3

How I get there:

MRT: Zhongxiao Dunhua Station (捷運忠孝敦化站)

exit no. 4; walk east on Zhongxiao East Road

make a right on Lane 248 (248 巷); restaurant is on the left

ML - 20110915

Post 20.2: Flashback - San Francisco, Part 2 (May 2009)

I experienced a whirlwind of international flavors while on my short weekend trip in San Francisco last May... from breakfast at one of the city's many casual cafes to dinner at finer Vietnamese fare... to saliva-inducing spicy Szechuan Chinese to milder Mediterranean munchies... here's a look at the many marvelous meals from that weekend.

Breakfast @ Cafe Capriccio (San Francisco: North Beach)

I had an open-faced bagel piled high with turkey, fresh tomatoes, red onions, mozzarella, basil.  Yum! I really liked that Capriccio packed the tomatoes high.  One stingy slice of tomato in my sandwiches just doesn't do it for me.  And I liked that the mozzarella topped off the sandwich rather than congealing to the bottom slice of the bagel.  It sorta Saran-wrapped the tomatoes and onions together, preventing the pagoda pile from toppling over.  Call it my love for organizations, but I like! And some fragrant basil and a bit of coarsely ground black pepper for minor oomph? Like, like, like!

Dinner @ Out the Door (San Francisco: Union Square)

While we ordered quite a few dishes from the menu, there were two that caught the attention of my taste buds.  The first was the green papaya salad.  I don't normally like the papaya smell or flavor, but the combination of sweet, spicy, and sour was strangely addicting.  I kept telling myself to save my appetite for the forthcoming courses, but while waiting for the dishes to arrive, I began to pick out the peanuts.  One thing led to another, and of course my chopsticks picked up strand after strand of the green papaya.  

The other dish that quickly became a favorite was the crispy duck.  Oh, how I couldn't (and still can't) resist beautifully, golden, crispy skin of pork or poultry.  The meat under the wonderfully crispy skin was tender, moist, and juicy.  Wow, it was like the double trifecta of poultry perfection: skin x (beautiful, golden, crispy) + meat x (tender, moist, juicy).  I honestly couldn't ask for more.  Well, I could... another order please?

Dinner @ Spices (San Francisco: Inner Richmond)

What a fitting name: Spices! The only way the restaurant's name could be any more fitting is if it's changed to Spicy-as-hell.  One dish at this restaurant had officially caused a near-death experience for me.  The mini spicy tofu cubes had a bite that created a psychotic spiciness in my ears.  As beads of sweat rolled down and around my eyebrows, my ears rang with panicked alarm.  Some seeds from the Szechuan chili pepper must have slipped into my mouth somehow, and one off-bite must have caused the seed's juice to explode.  Not water, not tea, not yogurt smoothies (I know understand why those drinks are on the menu) could prevent the forest fire from spreading across the prairie of tastebuds.  Sorry, Smokey.  Call me crazy, but I'd chomp down on these little tofu bombs again.  I'd be crazy not to.

Lunch @ Oasis Grill (San Francisco: Financial District)

I met up with Grace while during her lunch break.  She frequently called me during her lunch breaks to describe what she was having.  Ugh, although it's nice to hear her voice, it's not so nice to hear the delicious meal she was having.  So when I finally made it up to SF on a weekday, Grace grabbed the chance to introduce me to one of her usual lunch spots.

Grace ordered the chicken shawarma.  And while I was pondering over all the menu options (and irritating the on-the-go bankers with my turtle-like decision-making process), Grace instructed, "Get the chicken shawarma.  It's good."  I obliged.  After all, it's the first item on the menu. 

We grabbed our shawarmas and hopped on over to the area across from the Ferry Building for our Greek grub.  On this beautiful day in the San Francisco, those who spent 8+ hours a day in the Embarcadero buildings enjoyed their lunch while basking in the sun.  Ah, shit like that makes me happy.

The super enormous chicken shawarma made me happy too.  It was almost the length of my forearm.  The simple wrap was filled with rotisserie chicken, lettuce, tomato, and a gastronomically gourmet garlic sauce.  The garlic sauce, although typically thought of as a mere condiment, was absolute gold in my eyes.  The sauce added a flavorful bite to the lettuce and tomato and was a mediator of moisture for the chicken.

I suddenly envied all those who worked at the Embarcadero buildings.  Suit and tie to work for this? No problem! If I worked in the city, I'd be a regular at Oasis Grill for sure.  I peeled more of the alumnimum foil off, and nom, nom, nommed away.

Halfway through the wrap, I was absolutely full.  That shawarma was BIG.  And upon annoucning that I couldn't eat another bite, I heard an exclamation of, "WEAK SAAAAAUUUCCE."  I stared.  I blinked.  I thought, "this girl just called me weak sauce.  Must.  continue.  eating."  I wasn't about to let a girl beat me at eating forearm-lengthed shawarmas. No failing.

I finished.  "Oooh...," I thought, "San Francisco, you've done me good."  I spotted a portion of the shawarma pushing out from inside my belly... "I shall return."

Until the next trip to San Francisco, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100706/20090516-20

Post 12: Swooning for Soon Tofu @ Beverly Soon Tofu (LA: Koreatown)

A few weeks ago I was hired as a temp for tax season at an accounting firm in the Valley.  I hope I don't speak too soon (no pun intended), but I actually enjoy preparing tax returns for complete strangers.  I mean, the the worst part of the day isn't even at work... it's the morning commute.  On Monday it took me a little over two hours to drive 40 miles from the SG Valley into the West SF Valley.  (I won't say how late I was for work.)  In comparison, driving 120 miles from the SG Valley to San Diego only takes 90 minutes... with a non-congested I-5, of course.

The morning stack.

I work my weight in paperwork everyday in the office.

I'm not quite sure what's going on with my taste buds (or my brain for that matter), but recently I haven't been able to fulfill my cravings for Korean food.  It's not that the Korean food I have is not satisfying or that it's not hitting the spot.  It's that... I think I've become addicted to Korean food.  No matter how much haemul pajeon, banchan, or japchae I have... I want more. I look at all the creased 1040 federal filing forms, the wrinkled W-2s, and the folded 1099s plopped on my desk, and I start to think about... kimchi.  The wrinkles, ruffles, and ridges that have been so effortlessly grooved into the creased kimchi leaves... and the swirls of red from chili that glide down through the gentle folds and bends of the fermented cabbage... gawwwd.

Plethora of banchan.

The side dishes (banchan) are served complimentary with every meal.

Lucky for me I have friends who feel the same way.  When the clock struck 5:00, I called up a friend who knew (still knows) her Korean food, and I asked her to take me to the place that she says serves crack in the form of soon tofu... Beverly Soon Tofu Restaurant.  When she said the tofu stew was like kimchi-flavored crack, she wasn't kidding.

A simple and refreshing start.

The tofu drops chill in a light soy sauce topped with shredded seaweed and sesame.

I know what you're thinking... it's gotta be the MSG! That's what I thought too.  But after demolishing the entire portion of tofu stew, I didn't feel the tingling numbness that is usually associated with the malevolent monosodium mayhem.  So what makes the soon tofu so good? Other than the blocks of tender tofu brewing in beef broth and the stewing seafood... I'm convinced that it's the crack.  (My eating companion agrees with me.)  I'm sure that it's the same crack that makes the soup bubble so feverishly upon hitting the boiling point.  And it's probably the same crack that makes the soup so thick, which is a quality that distinguishes this tofu stew from the tofu stew at other Korean restaurants.

The bubbles boil over the brim.

Heat + crack = boiling.  Crack + tofu = simple equations.

I rarely ever finish a pot of tofu stew, but on this occasion the beef, egg, and broth were completely consumed.  Just bits of white bean product spotted the sides of the black stone pot... the dregs of the tofu stew.  I'm telling ya... it's the crack.  Anyone have any other speculations other than MSG? Let me know!

Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100323/20100301