Another day another piece of sushi...

So, I've just finished Week 6 of sushi school. I realize that I haven't really given any more than the first couple days experience to everyone... Sorry for that, but there's so much information, that my head is kinda still spinning, and it's not over.

Here are a couple things of importance that I've learned.

1) I suck. Really, I've got a great brain for food, but my hands aren't precise, and in a precision-centered world like sushi, there's no iffs ands or buts about being able to do it or not. I've been rolling for a month now, and I still end up with "hot dogs" that aren't even. It sucks. I suck. But I'm still learning some very important information here.

2) Rice isn't my friend. A continuation of the above. I don't know if it's because my hands are naturally on the warm side, but even with copious amounts of temizu (hand lubricating vinegar water), I can't get the rice not to stick everywhere. I'm just so frustrated at this... Ugh.

3) Fish must be respected. While there are general principles to remember here, all fish are different and need to be fabricated differently. Head off, guts out... I know that unless I actually go to work for a sushi/japanese restaurant after this course, I probably won't retain most of the knowledge here. It's really a use it or lose it kind of proposition. Perhaps I need to make sure to keep my skills up by practicing or opening up a sushi catering company.

4) The customer's life is in my hands. Sanitize sanitize sanitize... I must make sure that my nails are cut down and clean, that my hand towel is regularly rinsed and bleached... that there is enough fresh temizu around. Then, I have to remember to pre-prep all the fish, meaning that I have to salt and vinegar marinate everything to draw out parasites and kill everything on it. To not do so would literally be taking my customers lives into my hands. Also... NEVER eat river fish raw. They're literally filled with parasites. Just don't do it. EVER. The one exception is salmon, however, even that is dangerous unless you deep freeze it first to kill everything in it. Current US regulation is that salmon must be frozen for 1 week (!) in a commercial (not home) freezer before being served as sushi or sashimi.


Well, boys and girls, I'm off to cook more rice (eek) to practice some more hot dog... er... roll making techniques.

Happy cooking!

Day... er.... Wait a minute.

Ok, I was originally planning on doing a daily run of events from Sushi School for everyone. I realize that there's so much to cover and so much for me to learn, that it'd be exhaustive for me to be able to to that. As it is, I'm sitting here at 7AM about to run out the door, about to write about Day 3, and it's already the Monday after that, or Day 6. I'll try to go over some of the more important things in detail, but in the meantime, I'm going to have to summarize and gloss over quite a bit. There's a LOT to cover!

Have a great week, guys, and Happy Cooking, as always.

Day 2 -- Deep Basics, Flavor, Rice, Stock

Day 2.

I walk in knowing from the syllabus that we're covering the basics of Japanese cuisine today. I made sure to leave as much of my preconceived notions as I could at home, since we're covering things that any person who grew up in Japan knows at least something about. Wanting to get the most out of the course, and to learn a specific "philosophy," I chose to go in and forget that I know these things.

6 Flavors:
There are six basic flavoring ingredients in Japanese cuisine.

Sake, Mirin, Vinegar, Sugar, Salt, Soy Sauce

I'm not going into any real details on any one of these ingredients, since each one of them can and have merited entire treatises on them. I will just go into the basics that I think should be mentioned, and that were imparted to me.

Sake:

Sake is brewed from Rice and Rice Mold, and left to ferment for a period of 30-90 days depending on the method being used. Regardless, it falls under the category of "soft liquor" since the alcohol content is usually between 16 and 18%.

Junmai Shu is made of only rice and mold, and is considered more refined. Because of the natural state it is in, it needs to be fermented for 80-90 days.

Jozo Shu is made of the same ingredients as above, but alcohol is added to the fermentation tank to speed the process. The sake made this way is ready in 30-40 days.

Most mass produced sake, thus is Jozo Shu, since it can be made more quickly. When drinking sake, Jozo Shu types (e.g. Sho Chiku Bai, Gekkeikan, Ozeki, and other popular brands), heat the sake to let the artificial alcohol to "burn off." Junmai Shu, on the other hand, can be tasted at room temperature.

Mirin:

Mirin is brewed the exactly same way as sake is, but instead of regular rice, sweet/mochi rice is used. The higher starch content in the rice makes a rather sweet liquor. Mirin is almost used exclusively for cooking and is rarely drunk. Like sake, there is a Jozo and Junmai distinction.

Vinegar:

Japanese vinegar is rice vinegar. Originally (and still today, although rarer), it was made from fermenting sake lees left from liquor making procedures. Most often, rice and mold are combined and a starter culture of acetobacter is added to convert the alcohol into vingegar.

Rice vinegar tends to be milder than white vinegar, and is not as sharp as some other vinegars.

Sugar:

Cane sugar that we're used to in the US and Europe is 30% sweeter than Japanese sugar, meaning that Japanese recipes giving measurements of sugar are harder to adjust. Side Note: So is THAT why the ubiquitous Teriyaki Chicken in a Japanese-American restaurant is so darn sweet? Just food for thought.

Salt:

Knowing the different sodium levels of salt is an important factor in cooking healthy food for your customers. Also, depending on where a salt comes from, it the mineral components differ and may contribute to a change in flavor.

Table salt: 99.98% Sodium. While cheap, there is no benefit from using this salt, since it is just sodium, and has a sharp flavor, from the iodine being added in.

Kosher salt: 99.8% Salt. Larger flakes means that less actual salt is needed when used as a table side condiment.

Sea Salt: 98% Sodium. The almost 2% difference between table and sea salts may seem small, but on the palate, it does make a difference. Also, the added minerals in sea salt makes it more "flavorful." Depending on where the salt comes from, these minerals may be different, and will give the salt a different color and or flavor.

Soy Sauce/ Shoyu:

There are four basic types of Shoyu that is used in the Japanese kitchen. Most of us here think of shoyu and immediately think of Kikkoman... yup, it's a brand, but that's just Dark Shoyu.

Dark Shoyu - used for everyday seasoning

Light Colored Shoyu - used to flavor soups and other applications where color change needs to be prevented, such as in Japanese omelets.

*Note: Light Colored Shoyu is much saltier than Dark Shoyu... You use less which further prevents color changes

Tamari - not to be confused with the sauce made by the brand called Tamari. Tamari has extra ingredients added during the brewing process, and is thicker than regular shoyu. Also, it has a slightly molasses like flavor, so is often used in making teriyaki, and unagi sauces.

White Shoyu - almost never used in a home setting. This is what is used in Kyoto to season Sui-mono or clear soups. It is similar to Light Colored shoyu, but is even lighter in color.

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Rice

This is really an important chapter when you're talking about sushi school. For all intents and purposes, I'm only going to be talking about Japanese rice, which is medium-short, or short grain. California makes great Japanese style rices which can be used here. I'm not going to go into all of it, or post the video of sensei actually showing how to do it, but I will give you the basic idea. Actually, on second thought, I will take a vid of how it's done and post my own version.

One thing to note. The ratio of water to rice depends on a number of factors, not the least of which is whether the rice is "new crop" or "old crop." New Crop rice becomes available around mid-November. Because it is "new" it has more natural moisture in the grains. 3%, to be exact. Obviously, if you're using new rice, you need less water than with old rice. FYI, new rice becomes old rice around February/March, so adjust back accordingly.

While a gas cooker, or a cast iron rice pot over a raging flame is ideal, I'm going to give measurement ratios for an electric cooker. Never cook Japanese rice in an open pot like pasta or cous-cous. This is steamed rice, and it needs ample time in an enclosed environment to rest and absorb the moisture.

Wash the rice for 1-3 minutes in a tub. There should be enough water to moisten the rice well. Rinse rice several times until the rinse water is clear. Place rice into a colander or strainer, and let sit a minimum of 20 minutes, preferably 30. Given that rice is a dried vegetable, it needs to reconstitute with moisture before cooking much like dried mushrooms and legumes.

Measure out approximately 1.25 times the amount of rice in water, add to the rice cooker with your washed rice, and turn the switch on. The cooking time should be a total of 45 minutes. That is, 20 to cook, and 25 to steam once the machine is off. In a fancier rice cooker, this step is actually taken into account, but it doesn't hurt to let it sit an extra couple minutes to make sure the rice is steamed thoroughly. Set a timer, and go with that, rather than the beeps of your fancy rice cooker. That works just fine. Rice comes out consistently good.

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Stock, or Dashi

The basis of many Japanese dishes and soups is Japanese stock or Dashi. Unlike Western stocks, dashi doesn't take too long to make. It is the first pressing or Ichiban Dashi that I will be giving directions for.

Put one gallon (adjust to needs) of water in a pot over medium heat. Add a 5-inch square piece of Kombu (kelp). Slowly bring the pot to a boil. You want the process to take at least 10 minutes to extract the flavor from the kombu. At the point that the water has come to a full boil, remove the kombu, add a half cup of cold water to lower the temperature slightly, and add a heaping handful of bonito flakes to the pot. Immediately turn off the heat and let sit. When all the bonito flakes have sunk to the bottom of the pot, your dashi is ready to strain and be used. Line a strainer with paper towels, and carefully strain the dashi. This is the primary dashi that you will be using for many things.

You can take the used bonito flakes and kombu and reuse them for a weaker dashi called secondary or niban dashi. This is often used to simmer vegetables, or for miso soup in restaurants that need the primary dashi for more refined dishes.

There's a lot that I'm not necessarily covering, but that's day 2 for you guys. As you can see, the pace is a tad breakneck, and I'm sure glad that I do have the advantage of knowing some (very little, really) of these things coming into the class.

Happy Cooking!

First Day at Sushi School... Itadaki Masu

For those of you in the know, I signed up with a school here in LA for a two month program to get a certification as a sushi chef. Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do with the certification. But since my loss of my dear husband David in the past year, I've been floundering. This at least gives me some sense of direction and accountability for my life. Maybe I'll go into catering, or eventually open a place... or just do what I've been sort of doing and go into culinary consulting of some sort. Regardless, I'm excited to have a purpose for the next little while, and I plan on making the most of it.

Why sushi? I think the best reason I have here is that I'm part Japanese, and I wanted to learn something that would perpetuate some aspect of my "native" culture. Yes, I speak Japanese, and can follow a cookbook, but the skill set is very different from a French/Euro-centric cooking set which I have a fair amount of hands on skill in. Yes, the skills are analogous (a cube cut is a cube cut the world around), but often the tools and methodology are different. Just look at traditional Japanese knives. Many are single-edged and thus handed (meaning my pocketbook screamed when I learned of the surcharge for lefty knives). I have several Japanese knives that I owned before starting school and purchasing the knife kit they recommend. I have a small deba (fish cleaver), an usuba (vegetable knife), and a yanagiba (sashimi sliver), but never learned how to properly handle them. Don't get me wrong, I have decent knife skills with "Western style" knives (gyu-to/French chef's, for example), but the feeling is completely different when cutting something with a double edged versus a single edged knife. The best way I can describe it is that while a standard double edged knife goes "straight" into the product being cut, a single edged knife feels like it "curves" into the product... way weird if you're used to the one over the other. Right here alone was a reason I wanted to learn.

Ok, onto my first actual day of school. I got up early (6:30AM!) and got dressed in my uniform, picked up my knife kit, and trekked down the street while it was still semi dark out. Good thing I left early. Not being used to morning traffic, I didn't realize it would take me as long to go the couple, three miles to the school. Then I didn't realize that the gate to the lot was automated, and I was circling like a dumbass waiting for someone to call me back to give me directions on how to get into the lot (drive up... the sensor will open the gate... duh). But all things said, I got there, and was only several minutes late... Housekeeping was going on, and nothing had started yet.

After the obligatory filling out of paperwork and limitation of liability forms and such, the chef/instructor (who will be referred to from here on out as "Sensei" which is the Japanese term for teacher) gave us an overview of his background, and why he's teaching the class. The reason he wants to do this is because he feels that he wants to pass along the skills that he learned to the next generation. Great!

We were informed of the way the course is set up, and wow, it's fast paced! We're apparently covering all the basics of non-sushi Japanese cooking in 12 days. Of course, we're expected to study and practice on our own time, and to hone our skills. Oh, and we were also asked, if we could, to show up on Saturday to help the school cater an event for 800 people. Whoa! We won't be cooking, but may be asked to help prep basic things and to do some grunt work around the exhibition. I'll definitely have to keep that one in mind.

Onto the kitchen. Today was "basic knife skills." Sensei started out with a potato and showed us how to julienne it by hand. Gorgeous movement. We each got a potato, and were told to do the cuts. I guess 30 plus years of experience makes it look easier than it actually is. I got through this one without too much trouble. I know that I need to get better at making the cuts more uniform, but this wasn't too horrible. Nothing I can't do at home with a couple taters and some time. Then onto a couple other cuts like "half moon" cuts and so on so forth. Each time, we were shown once, and then told to do it. When needed Sensei and his assistant would come over to correct us and guide us in the right way. Still, so far, so good. Stuff that I can do but just need to practice to perfect... then we're asked to do a Katsura-muki. What? That on the first day??? Now I'm feeling inadequate. A kasura-muki is when you take a relatively cylindrical vegetable and make a continuous peel of it which is evenly paper-thin. Suffice it to say that I sucked hardcore on this one. I just kept on angling the knife wrong and just didn't seem like I was getting anywhere on this one. Ugh.

Well, that was day 1. Sensei made dishes out of all the veggies we sliced and we all ate in the cafeteria outside the kitchen and then cleaned up before going home.

Yes, I bought potatoes to practice on.

One thing that was brought up during family lunch really touched me. The idea of food to the Japanese given to us by someone whose worked with it all his life. Sensei explained that the term "Itadaki Masu," said like bon apetit before a meal in Japan, refers to the idea that no matter what one eats, that it has to die for us to be able to consume it. It is with the idea of gratitude that he translated "Itadaki Masu" as "thank you for letting me partake of your life." Even though I speak the language and know the culture, I never thought of it this way. I thought this was a simple and beautiful way of looking at things and also one that spoke to the level of respect on needs when eating and especially handling food.

So, in this new quest of knowledge of mine, I start by saying "Itadaki Masu" to all the knowledge and skill that will be shown to me. I hope I can remember to keep the spirit of respect to be worthy.

Happy Cooking and Eating!

Veggies for soups and stews...

It's started getting a little nippy at night here in LA of late. Given the rapid change in seasons this year, I caught a hell of a cold over the past week, and I'm now finally getting over it. Given that I was congested and generally miserable all week, I ate a lot of soups and stews that go down easy and just warm you up from the inside.

I made a big batch (7-qts) of home-made chicken stock as a base, (easy... get a whole chicken or family pack of wings, wash, cover with cold water, add couple each carrots and celery, a whole onion and simmer for a couple/several hours until the bones even fall apart, strain and reserve) and have been making soups and soups out of it for a while. Which got me to thinking... is there a good way of making sure that the veggies don't turn into mush while making a good and hearty slow cooked meal?

The answer is absolutely yes. Just because you let a stew or soup simmer for a couple hours to get the flavors together doesn't mean that you have to suffer potatoes and carrots that have no backbone left. The secret is remarkably simple... Start with cold water/stock, and take at least 10 minutes to bring it to a simmer. What? That's it??? Yes. Let me repeat. SLOWLY bring the pot up to a simmer.

The scientific reasoning for this, for those of you who are into that sort of thing (yes, I have been known to be a geek from time to time), is that the texture of cooked vegetables have everything to do with how a substance in them called pectin is handled. Pectin, by the way in its pure form, is the substance used to gel jams and jellies. It's a naturally occurring sugar-substance that is present in all fruits and vegetables in various concentrations. If you slowly bring the temperature of the veggies up as opposed to "shocking" them directly in boiling water, the pectin has a chance to "set up" thus protecting the integrity of the cellular structures. Once they've been tempered thus, you can cook the veggies for a long time while still retaining a crisp texture. Depending on what you like, you can adjust the tempering process to get varied results. If you want veggies that have just a slight crunch, just follow the "bring to simmer over 10 minutes guideline), if you want them really crunchy take longer... Of course, the reverse applies too, so in certain cases where you want your veggies to turn into mush (for bisques and other pureed applications, for example), you want to have the water at a boil before adding the veggies.

See, now you can have a soup or stew with a restaurant type mouth feel, and you won't have to worry about everything turning into mush... Oh, and if you're adding broccoli or cauliflower (or anything that "falls apart"), make sure that you blanch and shock them to keep their color, and add them at the very end of cooking after you take the soup/stew off the heat. They'll remain intact, and won't throw florets all over the place.

Eggs done right.

I was thinking the other day that I rarely, if ever, really enjoy eatings eggs out. Granted, unless I'm on vacation (which I recently was in Hawai'i -- more on that in a later post), I just don't go to the kind of place that would take the time to serve me eggs the way I like 'em. Don't get me wrong, I'm not necessarily knocking all the fine diners and breakfast spots out there. I just like my eggs (especially scrambled) done a particular way, and I prefer to forgo the eggs while out in favor of something more... healthy... how's that?

So without further ado, here are some tips on egg cookery.

Scrambled
First and foremost, learn to be patient. The pan should never, and I mean, never be on anything other than LOW heat. That's right, boys and girls, the perfect scrambled egg is one where the egg coagulates at a very slow pace. I've been know to spend 30 minutes or more sometimes on a batch of eggs for brunch.

Take your eggs and beat them. Now melt a pat of butter in a pan set on low heat, and add the eggs. Every so often, stir the eggs with a spatula. The pan should be low enough that there should be almost no noticeable coagulation in a pan of three eggs for over 10 minutes. Don't over stir either. You want large fluffy curds here. Once the eggs start to set up, add some cream or milk to the pan to make them even more smooth. Stir until almost set, then remove to a plate.

Keeping the eggs slightly runny is important here. Remember the old adage: eggs that are done in the pan are overdone on the plate.

As much as it's a pain in the bum to go through the trouble, you'll be rewarded with the most sublime scrambled eggs you've ever tried. And what's interesting is that they taste more "eggy" than scrambled eggs cooked too quickly.

Season the eggs to taste, and add some grated parmesan or even better, truffle bits (truffle oil works great too), for your decadent treat.

variation:
There's one version that cooks up really nicely if you want even more "egg" taste. I saw this technique a couple years back in a cooking magazine (no, I don't remember).

Using the same heat setting as above, add the eggs without beating them into the pan. You want to break the yolks and start mixing once the whites have started to set up. The texture is not as smooth as the original method, but it's got a nice and interesting taste. Try it sometime to change up your scramble game.

Fried Eggs

So, why does one need to be told how to fry an egg? Because there are a couple different ways to do it! And yes, there's even technique involved.

First things first. True "fried eggs" are just that... they're fried in oil, rather than heated in a pan with little or no grease. For a truly decadent experience, try rendering an in or two of lard and/or bacon fat in a pan, bring it up to temperature, and dropping a couple eggs straight from their shells into them. It's quick, and oh so tasty. At the point in which the eggs are immersed in the oil, they naturally cook more like an egg that's been flipped over so both sides are cooked. Again, with this kind of egg, don't overdo it. The point is to be able to sop up the yolk with a piece of bread (buttered rye for me please).

Wanna be a "fried egg" geek? Try this: Use a circle mold (or a tuna can with both ends cut off) to make perfectly round eggs. Better yet, if you're entertaining, take the time to not only use the mold, separate the yolk from the white, and gently place the yolk directly on the center of the egg once the whites are already starting to set. Beautiful!

Again, even with the standard pan fried egg, you want the pan to be on low heat. That way the egg has time to cook to the right consistency.

variation
How about this Japanese technique for pan fried egg? Take the egg and slowly pour it into a pan on low heat (get out that circle mold again!) then add a couple tablespoons of water in the pan, and put lid on it. This is a technique called steam frying. You'll end up with a much softer egg white with this method.

Hard...soft...semi...Boiled Eggs

Boiled eggs... We all have different tastes here for doneness, but here's a general guideline. Add eggs to a pot of cold water with about an inch or so water to cover. Bring to a boil and then remove from heat.

Leave the eggs in for 10-11 minutes, you'll get a perfect hard boiled egg.

Going down from there you can gauge the consistency of the egg you want. I like mine with a little more give in the yolk, so I usually take mine out around 7 minutes. Just take a bunch of eggs and try this. It's fun. You can get anything from a barely cooked egg all the way to a hard boiled with the yolk uniformly yellow. Just watch a clock or timer, and pull out the eggs after 5 minutes in one to two minute intervals, and then line them up, peel them after rinsing in cold water, and see what you like best.

Here's a tip on getting the yolk centered. Constantly roll the eggs back and forth while they're cooking with a spatula. This'll keep the yolks nice and centered... a must for Deviled eggs! Ok, even I don't bother with that. Get out a small glass (shot glass anyone), and just put it in the pot. Place egg, point side up, and voila! Yolks that are centered.

Of course there's much more in egg land, and I'm sure I will eventually write an entire entry on the omelet alone, but for the time being, hope your egg cooking skills will be better.

Since I actually made all three kinds of eggs simultaneously to write this entry... what did I do with them? Why make an Egg Egg Egg and Cheese Sandwich.


Egg Egg Egg and Cheese Sandwich

Per Sandwich

1 Croissant

1 boiled egg
1 fried egg
2 scrambled eggs (optional drizzle at end with truffle oil)

Cheese -- can be anything you like.
I used grated parmesan, aged white cheddar, and 5 year-old gouda for mine.

Salt and pepper to taste.

Once you have all three kinds of eggs, open up a toasted croissant, add the cheese (melt if desired during toasting), top with the eggs, salt and pepper to taste, and then chomp in. This is a wonderful way of tasting all the different textures and flavors that the eggs have in one dish. It's a bit messy (fried egg runs all over), but it's GOOD!

Happy Cooking and Eating!

A Summer Menu ~ Dualities

I have to say that I haven't cooked a large production meal in a while. Since Zack-I my roommate was leaving for Burning Man on Sunday, I thought I'd make a nice meal at home for him and his sister, and another foodie friend of ours. I wanted the menu to be interesting, yet be something that very much said "summer." Each of the dishes had one key ingredient used two ways. Here's my menu:

From the Garden:

"Tomayto/Tomahto Caprese Tartlet" of fresh and confit tomato served alogside a Chilled Shot of Heirloom Tomato, Cucumber, and Spice Gazpacho


From the Ocean:

Scallop Carpaccio with cedar smoked white peach and yuzu ponzu. Complimented by Seared Scallop wrapped in guanciale and stuffed with summer black truffles.

From the Farm:

Lamb chop served with summer fig and red wine compote, Lamb Shank braised in red wine and porcinis. Both accompanied by saffron cous-cous.

Something Sweet:

Cremes Brulees -- toasted sesame seed, and dragonfruit


The menu was a success, and everyone seemed to love it. I even got Zack-I who normally doesn't do raw seafood not only to try the scallop carpaccio, he actually even liked it. All in all a great meal for all of us.

Happy Cooking!

Heavenly Dumplings at Din Tai Fung

Din Tai Fung: 4.5/5

I've been hearing about Din Tai Fung in Arcadia for years now. Yes, this is the US outlet of the world renowned (one of the top 10 restaurants in the world according to the New York Times!) Taiwanese dumpling house. For whatever reason, I just never bothered going. I decided the other day to try running in for lunch. I knew that they're always busy, but I wasn't prepared for the extent of that business for Sunday lunch. Given that I was there to quickly grab a bite with Puppy before dropping him off at High End Virgin Grain Food Emporium, we didn't have the requisite hour and a half (!) wait. I gave up but gained a new-found desire, no, NEED, to eat here. If the wait's that long, I just had to see how worth it it was.

Fast forward a day to Monday. I got us up earlier and drove back out 18 miles to sample some dumplings. I went abso-effin-lutely determined to get in. Whatchya know? Even on a Monday, there was a wait. I got a ticket (number 121) and they were still calling the lower 80s. Oy! But since Puppy had the day off and we didn't have anywhere to be, we sucked it up and waited. Besides, I wasn't about to go and be defeated two days in a row. One thing to note here: Din Tai Fung is all about getting you in and out. While you're in line, you get a fill in menu kind of like a sushi card. You fill in the things you want while you wait, and they bring things as they are ready. Great for speed, not too great if you want certain things in a certain order (like we wanted our soup as an appetizer -- it came last).

Our order was the following:

Juicy Pork Dumplings (Xiaolongbao)
Juicy Pork and Crab Dumplings
Vegetarian Dumplings
Shrimp Fried Rice
Shrimp and Pork Won Ton Soup.
2 X Coke


We sit down, and the waitress quickly checks our order sheet. Withing 2 minutes, the first steamer of dumplings (pork and crab) arrive. I smell... I drool... then I pick one up ever so gingerly so as not to break the dough... dip it into the black vinegar, top with shaved ginger and then put in on a spoon... carefully slowly break the dough with my teeth, and then suck up the soup in the dumpling. I'm getting aroused at this point, it's so good. Then I just plop the rest in my mouth and chew. Wow! That's good. Right there, first dumpling, I already know why there's that line here.

Xiaolongbao. Soup Dumplings. Definitely one of those things that have a place in my heart. When I was a teenager and sick, my grandfather used to sneak me out of the hospital once a week to take me to polish off a platter of these soup filled delights. And these here are the best, hands down, that I've gotten here in the US. Not that there are that many places that actually offer them.

The regular pork ones were actually better in my opinion than the crab ones. It was just more meaty and "clean" if that makes sense. The fried rice was a great serving for two or three to share, and the soup was a light chicken broth filled with eight or so giant shrimp and pork dumplings that were heavenly once you got over burning your tongue on them.

The only miss here was the vegetarian dumplings. It was filled with a combination of things that was at once bland, but also had a mealy texture. It was edible, but I won't be ordering that one again.


All in all this was an amazing experience. Definitely worth the wait... The best part here is how inexpensive it is. After eating all that, the bill came up to less than $40. Really, not that bad considering that every dumpling order is for 10 pieces, and the most expensive one, the crab and pork dumplings come in at $8.50. You've heard rumors about Din Tai Fung... yes, they're all true. Don't think. Just go.

Happy Eating!

Canele in Atwater Village... the verdict is in...

Canele: 2.5/5 Stars

I love a great neighborhood restaurant. And I definitely love supporting them. Since I live in the Atwater area, I've gone to Canele (Mediterranean Cuisine) four times now over the past several months. While there are great things about it, I still have some reservations on the consistency of the food.

Let's start though, with the good here. I love the space and concept. The idea of a restaurant catering to the community with a (guess what?) communal table and a no reservation policy really does jive with me. I don't want to go to the restaurant down the street and not be able to get a table because some Westside snob decided to throw their name around to facilitate a last minute res for herself and 20 of her closest friends. Ok, I know I'm exaggerating, but, hey... At Canele, everyone's equal. If there isn't a table, you can make one of two choices: a) wait like a normal person, or b) choose to leave and go somewhere else. Pretty simple and democratic. No problem.

In terms of the food, I have to give them credit for doing fish well. Both times I've had fish here (trout once, branzino another time), it's been served whole (head and all) and been lightly but deftfully seasoned and wonderful. Maybe it's the Japanese in me, but I'm definitely not one to be squeamish about fish staring me in the face, and in fact, I am the one who loves to poke at the cheek meat. I almost yelled to the couple sitting next to us at the communal table earlier, "no, give it to me!!!" when they sent back the beautiful branzino to be decapitated to better serve their morals or well, I guess, tastes. I say kudos to the Mediterranean restaurant that actually, gasp, serves fish like they do, gasp, in the Mediterranean.

I also love that despite the small scope of the menu (6-7 appetizers, and 8-10 entrees with daily specials), that the chef here does try some interesting ideas. One of the dishes that I've tried that fits this bill is a dish that was served last winter. It was lamb chops with a grapefruit sauce served with Israeli couscous. I honestly would never have though to pair lamb with grapefruit, but this was a decent dish if only for the novelty factor. I guess my problem was that once you got over the combination, it was boring after the third bite, and the couscous was totally lackluster. I'm imagining that the Israeli couscous was trying to emulate the texture of the individual juice sacs of the grapefruit.

The flan here, voted as LA's best by LA Magazine, does stand up. It's a sinful delicious, oozy blob of YUM. Save space for it. If you don't, just share one with the table. It's really THAT good. Oh yeah, not to make it and afterthought, but the other desserts I've tried, like the cheesecake, are good as well.

The nicest touch, and one that definitely screams "neighborhood restaurant" is the fact that you get a fresh two bite canele on your way out. What's a canele, you ask? It's a baked custard similar in taste to a flan or creme caramel, but much denser and chewier. Can't get the idea? Refer to the picture to your left. Mmmmmm... if their flan wasn't as good as it is, I would skip dessert altogether just 'cause of this.

Ok, onto the things I didn't like. As much as Canele does a great job with fish, I'm not a big fan of the way most other animals are prepared. I ordered the summer iteration of their rack of lamb today (herbed rack of lamb with eggplant and tomato ragout) and got a tepid and rubbery trio of chops instead. The flavors were ok... I mean, how do you screw up some good lamb with a mixed herb pesto, really? But the texture just said that they didn't care. Tepid and chewy (not a good thing here like with the canele) is not medium-rare in my book. We all know that most of the food that we eat in a restaurant is pre-prepped to some degree, but this felt like they just weren't trying with this one.

Pork chop... again, boring. It was definitely well brined, but it seems that whoever was at the oven reheating this chop... (no sear whatsoever here), forgot to reseason it. Bland and boring. Somewhat overcooked (aren't we glad it was brined?) No sauce to boot. Eh...

Look, I live in this neighborhood, and I love to support a good neighborhood restaurant. But if I'm in the mood for good Mediterranean food, give me that, ok? And while I'm willing to overlook quite a bit in terms of perfection, give me what I pay for. See, the big issue here is that for the dishes that aren't great, the price tag really seems high. Higher than usual high. The Cuban place down the street, with its rustic home cooking, I believe is a much better bang for your buck. Sure, you won't get fancy pretty food there, but the prices make you feel that it was worth more that it is.

Bottom line. If you go to Canele, which you should, order a fish dish (and PLEASE don't let me catch you getting it guillotined), and get the flan with a cup of coffee to wash it down with. If you do that, you'll be happy since the fish dishes tend to be less pricey than the pork, lamb, beef, or other land meat. You'll get more, it'll taste better, and you'll want to go back. And do sit at the communal table. Serious dates aside, what's better than eating good food in a neighborhood restaurant than being able to meet your neighbors while doing it? This is Canele at its best. You should go for it.

Happy Eating!

Random Recipe: A Tale of Two Oceans

I was showing Puppy around the best fish market around this area... a small Japanese owned family joint we'll call Tuna Queen... actually, it's Fish King. The fish is lovingly showcased, and you can get quite a bit of lovely things here. I left the store with two Chesapeake Bay Soft-Shell Crabs, and half a pound of jumbo Pacific Scallops.


Fish King
722 N Glendale Ave
Glendale, CA
91206-2198

Phone: (818) 244-2161


Here's what I did with them:

A Tale of Two Oceans:

Serves 2


Atlantic:

Soft Shell Crabs with Lemon Butter

2 Soft-Shell Crabs, cleaned
Oil for cooking
Salt and Pepper
Juice and Zest of one lemon
2 TblS unsalted Butter (use good higher fat Euro butter)
2 Tbls Chopped Green Onion/Chives/Negi (Japanese onion)

Heat a pan over medium heat for several minutes until oil goes in easily. When oil is at a slight smoke, place soft shells top side down in the pan. Note: If you're doubling the recipe, remember to cook no more than two soft shells per 10-inch pan.
Cook for 2 minutes on the first side, then flip over and add butter and baste with the melted butter (pour over the exposed side with a spoon) another minute or two until just firm. Plate and then add in the lemon juice and zest. Swirl and pour over the crabs and top with chopped green onions.

Pacific:

Seared Jumbo Scallops with White Wine Chantrelle Sauce

1/2 Pound jumbo Sea Scallops

Sauce:

1/2 Cup White Wine
1/2 Cup Chicken Stock
3 Oz. Chantrelle Mushrooms, sliced in half
2 TblS Shiso Butter (see the recipe for the steak with French-Japanese sauce duo)
salt and pepper
starch and water as needed

Make the sauce: Reduce the Chicken Stock in a sauce pot to a 1/4. Saute the chantrelles in butter in a skillet until browned and tender, about 8-10 minutes. Add the reduced stock to the chantrelles and then monte with the shiso butter. Salt and pepper to taste. If needed thicken with the starch and water.

Cook the scallops:

Heat a pan on medium heat until hot. Salt and pepper the scallops and then cook 2-3 minutes on each side, until nicely seared and done.

Plate with the sauce.

I served this dish with whipped Yukon Gold Potatoes.

Happy Cooking!