京都 (Kyoto), Conclusion

Oh yeah, I never did finish the story from Part 1, about the izakaya and the photo I took with Taka and Katsu.

The next morning I checked Taka's blog, but didn't see my photo yet. That night, after dinner at Nanba, I wanted to stop by Beppin-ya for a drink, but the bar was full to the brim. The cook said something that I can only assume means "sorry, there aren't any seats." So I called it a night.

The next night (my last in Kyoto), I was on my way back to my inn and to get dinner at Beppin-ya, when I bumped into an American couple. We got to talking, I found out they're military and stationed elsewhere in Japan. I suggested continuing the conversation at the izakaya, but the guy says "I'm really in the mood for just some shitty American food, we're trying to find a TGI Friday's." I'm not kidding. Going to a TGIF totally went against my principles on this trip, but I didn't mind the company and easy conversation for little bit. I didn't eat, but I enjoyed a really good Suntory beer. (By the way, you know how TGIF in the US cut down on the absurd flair and silly crap on the walls? Well, Japan kept all that nonsense)

Anyway, it was actually a good thing I had that 1 hour detour, because once I left and went straight to the izakaya, something interesting happened. The staff was excited to see me come back, and set me up at the counter again, next to a random Japanese couple about my age. The girl gets my attention, hands me an iPhone with a photo on screen, and asks if that's me. Sure enough, that's the picture Taka took! Apparently Taka's blog is somewhat popular in town because of his men's clothing boutique. So we got to talking.

Eitaro and Shouko

My food came out, and so did the bar owner, Shingo. And he had a special gift for me, a fan and a glass of Yamazaki single malt whisky! If I understood correctly, this promo fan is in the style of the gift fans usually given to geisha and maiko for the new year, and he had one as a decoration. I felt so honored. We then talked about the sightseeing I did that day, and I showed Shingo some of the sketches I did in Nara with a calligraphy brush pen I bought. It turns out Shingo's really into calligraphy and had his own brush and fine paper there at the store. So he wrote for me the kanji for "gratitude" or "thanks".

"Yamazaki Kyoto Highball"

感謝, "kansha", and a cup of Yamazaki 12-yr single-malt on the rocks.

At the end of the night, when the rest of the customers started to clear out, Shingo introduced me to the rest of his staff, and we took a group photo. All I can say is that I saw some incredible sights around Kyoto, but the time I spent at Beppin-ya and the people I met there stand out the most for me.

Until next time, じゃまた

京都 (Kyoto), Part 3 - Return of the Yuzu

About 12 months ago, I stumbled upon a big crate of yuzu on sale at Central Market. And throughout my kaiseki dinner from the previous post, yuzu seemed to be a recurring theme. That's right, November/December is yuzu season. Shortly after I got back from vacation, I did some shopping at Central Market and picked up a couple of yuzu so I could make something from it and enjoy that flavor again.

On my first day of Kyoto sightseeing, I popped into a random, empty restaurant called "Udon Soba Something-Something" and asked for whatever the owner/waiter/cook recommended that had beef and soba. After a bit of exchanging gestures and confused faces, what I ended up getting was soba noodle soup with sliced beef and green onions.

The beef was seasoned or marinated with what I'm assuming is yuzu, and it was fantastic. The kicker was the shichimi togarashi hot pepper powder mixed with dried sudachi zest for seasoning, served in a shaker made of a segment of a bamboo stalk... so sexy! The meal was simple, filling, and packed with flavor.

Out of all the meals I had in Japan, this was probably the only one I can reproduce in my kitchen. So when I happened to find a new shipment of yuzu at Central Market, I went for it.

Brought back some good memories

The tricky part was figuring out how to make the broth correctly and figuring out how the beef was cooked at the restaurant. Typically, soba noodle soups are served in a dashi broth, made of soy sauce, sugar and/or mirin rice wine, and dried bonito fish powder/shavings. Unfortunately, I didn't write down my proportions of water, mirin, and dashi powder. But I did have a bottle of store-bought soba broth to compare against, and it was pretty close.

For the beef, I used a 1/2 lb portion of center-cut sirloin steak, sliced it thinly, and marinated it with 1 Tbsp of soy sauce and the zest of 1 yuzu for 30 minutes. I guessed correctly that the beef was just quickly dipped into the simmering broth to cook it and keep it tender.

The end result wasn't a perfect match, by any means, but it still really hit the spot. Plus, I added some shiitake mushrooms to the recipe, just for the hell of it, and they were great.

京都 (Kyoto), Part 2 - Kyo-kaiseki

In planning the trip, I set aside a special part of my budget for 1 outstanding, kick-ass meal in Japan. I had read about kyo-kaiseki, considered Japanese haute-cuisine that originated as part of a formal tea ceremony. It's a multi-course meal of elaborate small plates, made from seasonal ingredients.

The restaurant, Nanba, is in the popular dining/teahouse/geisha district of Gion. I honestly don't remember exactly how I found out about Nanba, but I do remember finding their website in English, their online reservation system... and their 1 Michelin star. I requested a seat at the counter, right by the chef and with a clear view of all the action. The hostess didn't speak much English and the chef didn't speak any, but they accomodate English speaking guests by bringing out a dictionary to explain what the dishes are made from. She also helped me pick a great, moderately-priced, locally-brewed sake.

Thus began the greatest culinary experience of my life. The freshness of the food, the techniques, the presentation, the flavors, all the fish and other ingredients I'd never even heard of before... I was in awe for 2 hrs straight.

Chef Nanba himself.

Crab, topped with seaweed and chrysanthemum

Sea bream in clear broth with carrot, baby daikon, and yuzu zest.

The fish was soft as butter and full of flavor. I learned that yuzu and root veggies are the big ingredients of fall/winter.

Sashimi plate: tuna, sea bream, squid, and one more fish I didn't get the name of. Real wasabi and chrysanthemum on the side, grated daikon on top.

Clockwise from top: salmon roe and chrysanthemum, soft roe, monkfish liver(?), and various grilled fish, including moroko.

The plating was beautiful, with Japanese maple leaves. I jokingly asked the chef if the leaves were edible as well. He liked that :)

Grilled managatsuo fish with some sudachi to squeeze on top.

My chopsticks beat my camera to this dish.

Chilled noodles and mushrooms in broth.

There was something on top with the consistency of melted mozzarella. I asked what it was and the chef said yama-imo (mountain potato, or maybe yam). But I'm not sure if it was a potato foam or the noodles were made of potato.

EDIT: I found out that the yama-imo is just the foam-like substance. It's mountain potato, grated and boiled.

Yama-imo, sweet shrimp balls, and spinach(?) topped with yuzu zest

Miso soup with chives(?) and conger eel with yuzu zest on rice.

Some of the best roasted eel I've ever had.

Yuzu sherbet and mousse with mixed seasonal fruits.

Matcha tea (thick green tea from a powder), and some kind of dessert with sweet red bean filling, inside of a soft, green outer paste.

It was kind of like mochi, but the outer layer had the consistency of mochi filling. The chef described it as "traditional Japanese cake." Whatever, it was gorgeous and tasty, especially with the tea

I was rather happy, to say the least.

I never splurged like that on a meal for myself before. But every course was so incredible, and the service was so nice, it was well worth it. I don't know how many times I told the chef "Sugoi!" (awesome) and "Oishii!" (delicious). With a teary eye, I left the restaurant, and took a long walk along the river through Gion before going back to my inn.

京都 (Kyoto), Part 1

Some of you may know that I recently went on the vacation that I've been dreaming of for a long time. I took my first trip to Asia! I started with 5 days in Taiwan, visiting my friend Jason from grad school. From Taiwan, I flew into Tokyo, got my Japan Rail Pass, and took an express bullet train Kyoto Station. I spent 3 nights and 2 days before taking another bullet train to Tokyo to spend 2 full days and finish off the trip.

The food and sights in Taiwan were incredible (thanks to Jason), and Tokyo was absolutely fascinating (thanks to my CMU friend Naoki). But Kyoto was simply the best. I met some great people, visited amazing centuries-old temples and shrines, enjoyed foliage like I haven't seen since I left New York, and I had the fine dining experience of a lifetime.

Once I got settled in my ryokan (traditional bed & breakfast), I headed next door to an izakaya that I read about online, Beppin-ya. They specialize in flame-grilling some special free-range chicken from Kagoshima. I knew that they usually get no one but locals and most likely wouldn't speak any English, and I only know a handful of words/phrases in Japanese. But I was feeling adventurous and was packing a phrasebook. Oddly enough, the first challenge was figuring out that the front door is a slider.

Anyway, the staff gave me a loud welcome, and the hostess led me to a spot at the counter near a couple. The U-shaped counter is separated from a small open-fire grill by a wall of glass. I sat down as the cook, a guy about my age, had a wire-cage of chicken over the grill. He squirted on some oil and lit the place up like the freaking 4th of July. I knew I had to stay and eat.

The hostess said she doesn't speak English, and told me that there wasn't an English menu, nor one with more pictures. So I asked for a recommendation, she pointed out a mixed grill. With a netbook with a browser open to a translator page, she explained it's a mix of thigh, skin, and throat meat. I have to say, I never had throat before, but it was the most popular dish (aside from, I assume, the chicken breast sashimi), so I went for it. I had a front row seat, literally, for watching the cook make it.

Cool, huh?

With some sea salt and some sudachi zest, it was smoky and tasty, even the throat. I was really enjoying the atmosphere and the light show, so I ordered some more food. I tried to ask in Japanese for a recommendation for a small dish, that was met with a some confusion, so I asked for some gyoza and a lychee-sour cocktail.

Perfection, and great presentation too

It was brought out by the owner of the izakaya, Shingo, who wanted to greet me himself. He was very cool, and apparently follows American college football from time to time. I said I live in Austin, and he says "Ah, Longhorns?"

Hook 'em, Shingo-san

At that point, my neighbors (the couple) smiled at me and the woman said in a little Japan-glish that they were fascinated with my phrasebook and how well I use chopsticks. The 3 of us talked a little, I told them my itinerary, the guy offered some sightseeing recommendations with my map.

Afterward, I started talking with a couple of guys, about my age, who came in shortly after me. One of them, Taka, spoke a little English and pieced together my story for his friend Katsu. They were pretty surprised with my plan to do Kyoto and Tokyo solo, not to mention surprised to meet a random black guy in the most unlikely place, haha.

Katsu and Taka. Cool guys with cool hats.

もしもし、タカさん！あなたたちに会えてとてもよかったです。連絡をとりましょう。たのしかった、ありがとう！

We took some pictures together with his phone, we exchanged emails, and he gave me the URL to his blog, telling me to check it the next day for the photo. I didn't see it up the next morning... but that's for another story.

I almost wanted to hang around for another hour or so, but it was getting late. And I wanted to check out Yasaka Shrine illuminated at night and get back to the ryokan at a reasonable time. Dinner at that bar pretty much assured me that Kyoto would be a breeze for exploring on my own :)

Puttanesca Sauce, of sorts

A month ago, I left work really late and didn't feel like spending any more than half an hour to make dinner. So I went to Newflower Farmer's Market picked up some hot italian sausage, some pasta, and a jar of marinara sauce (store brand, because that was all they had). Big mistake.

That sauce was so shitty! I kind of hated myself with every bite for inflicting this on myself. In all likelihood, if I had bought a real brand, like Classico instead of We-Love-Organic-Stuff-But-Can't-Make-Anything-Actually-Tasty brand, it would have been decent.

Normally, I make a basic sauce out of canned crushed tomatoes, fresh garlic, and dried herbs. It isn't outstanding (probably because I get impatient and don't simmer it long enough), but it works. But I wanted to try experimenting with fresh tomatoes... Actually I was thinking about making Chicken à la Provençal, but I changed my mind at the last second, and realized I had the same ingredients as what I need for Puttanesca sauce.

I'll spare you all the theories about how this sauce gets its name from the whores in Italy's days of yore. I had it for the first time at Asti Trattoria, and I was stunned. What makes it special is that it's full of really bold flavors. It's sweet from the fresh Roma tomatoes, spicy from the generous helping of red pepper flakes, and gives you a real kick from the garlic, olives, capers, and anchovies. And let it be known that 2 of my favorite things to cook with are garlic and anchovies.

The end result wasn't bad, but it wasn't restaurant quality yet. Granted I was only making a small batch, maybe enough for 2 or 3 servings, it needed more tomatoes and maybe some tomato paste to get the right thickness. And I definitely wussed out on how much capers and olives I put into it; I didn't think that the olives would mellow out so much. This recipe will definitely be revisited.

What's your usual solution for pasta sauce?

Ingredients:

- 7 fresh Roma tomatoes, blanched, peeled, seeded and chopped

- 1 Tbsp olive oil

- 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes (or to taste)

- 2 large cloves of garlic, minced

- 2 anchovy fillets, flattened to a paste

- 2 tsp capers, drained and chopped finely

- 1 or 1.5 Tbsp olives, pitted and coarsely chopped (I prefer Niçoise olives, they're kind of like mini kalamatas)

- 1/2 cup red wine (I used a zinfandel)

- salt & black pepper (preferably coarsely crushed) to taste

Procedure:

1. In a sauce pan, bring the oil up to medium heat. Saute and mix the red pepper flakes, garlic, and anchovy paste until it all becomes fragrant (but not so long that the garlic begins to brown). Mix in the olives and capers, and let it heat up for 30 sec.

2. Add the tomatoes and wine to the saucepan, and raise the heat to medium-high. Bring the pot to a low boil for a minute, and if you have a potato-masher or similar utensil, break up the tomatoes a little. Lower the heat to medium, cover, and simmer for about 25 minutes (or when the tomatoes break down). Stir it frequently.

3. When the tomatoes have cooked down, and the sauce has thickened, season it with salt and black pepper to taste. Toss in your cooked pasta to coat it with the sauce.

I served it on spaghetti with chicken breast sauteed with just salt, coarse black pepper, fresh chopped rosemary, topped with some good extra virgin olive oil (the kind you don't put in a hot pan).

Like I said, I plan to attempt this again, but with more tomatoes, and some tomato paste. Oh, and more anchovies and olives. I guess restraint totally goes against the spirit of this sauce.

Haitian Codfish

Recipe Source: Mom

Recipe Result: Still trying to get it just like I remember from childhood, but it gets a very good reaction from friends.

In Haiti, they call it morue. In Jamaica, it's saltfish. They use it a lot in Portugal and call it bacalhau. But whatever you call it, it's cod fillet dried and preserved in salt, and it's damn tasty when done right.

This is one of those dishes that my mom would make once in a while, maybe every 2 months. But every time she made it, I'd devour it like there was no tomorrow. I remember it being even better as cold leftovers on crackers. Then again, I remember the smell that it would leave around the house while it was being prepared, and realize that there must have been a reason why Mom would make it so infrequently. But then I also think of the slightly chewy and flaky texture of the cod, the mild residual salt, and the mix of leeks, tomatoes, and herbs that Mom cooks it with, and I remember how I could just munch on it straight out of the fridge.

But when I was back home in NY a couple years ago, I asked Mom to make it for me, so I can understand the process. At first, it seems a little involved, but all it really takes is just an extra 24 hrs of passive prep time. I've tried it a couple times on my own, plus a variation on it from my Spanish/tapas cookbook, and it's rather simple. A few months ago, I made it for a pot-luck with some friends and it got rave reviews.

Let's meet the star of the show: Señor Bacalao

"Hola"

You'll almost always find it in a small wooden box within some plastic wrap. Inside the box, the fillets are hard and dry as a bone, caked in salt, and smell really fishy. Don't let that deter you, the process is worth it.

Step 1: Soak the fillets in cold water in the refrigerator for 24 hours. Change the water 2 or 3 times.

Before

After

This is in order to remove a lot of the salt, and to reconstitute the fish. You didn't think that you were going to be chewing on some messed-up version of fish jerky, did you?

Step 2: Submerge the fillets in water in a large pot and put it over high heat. As soon as the water comes to a rolling boil, turn off the heat and take the pot off the burner. Drain out the fish, and set it aside. This is to remove most of the remaining salt, and to actually cook the fish. When it's done, the fillets will be nice and flakey.

From here, you can get creative with your recipe. Growing up, Mom always made morue with fresh leeks, tomatoes, garlic, and some other herbs.

Step 3: Prepare your veggies.

- Blanch, peel, seed, and chop 2 large vine-ripe or Roma tomatoes.

- Finely chop the white part of one leek. And make sure you clean it off well, they tend to have residual dirt between the top layers them when you just get them from the store.

- Mince 2 large cloves of garlic.

Leeks, gotta use them more often

Step 3: In a large saucepan, saute the leeks in 1 Tbsp of olive oil for 1 or 2 minutes on medium heat. As they go soft, add the garlic, and let it saute and become fragrant. Then add the tomatoes, give it a stir, and let it heat up until the tomatoes start to soften and break down.

Step 4: Before you add the cod to the pan, flake it up with your hands, and then chop it coarsely. Add it to the pan, stir it into the veggies, and season with salt and pepper to taste. You probably on't need a lot of salt because of the residual salt from the preservation. I also like to add 1 or 2 tsp of red wine vinegar, or some dashes of Frank's hot sauce for acidity and spice.

Step 5: Stir it all together, allowing the chunks of cod to break up even more. Let it continue to cook for another 5 minutes on medium heat, so the fish absorbs the flavors from the vegetables.

Cranberry Almond Quinoa

Recipe Source: Experimenting

Recipe Result: Tasty side dish, would make it again

My mom's really into health food. When I was in high school, she used to buy books by Dr. Andrew Weil all about natural healing foods and whole foods and such. That being said, she can get kind of obnoxious about eating only organic meat and produce. For example:

The scene, Downtown Whole Foods market, produce aisle.

Mom: "I want to buy some strawberries... can't find any."

Me: "There's a huge display of them right here. You're holding a box of them."

Mom: "They're not organic."

Me: "Mom... this is Whole Foods. Pretty much anything they sell comes from a reputable grower. It doesn't have to be organic to be good."

Mom: "Still... I want organic only."

Me: "But..."

Mom: "Do you want to eat pesticides?"

But she is kind of ahead of the curve when it comes to the new "trendy" health foods. When I home in 2006, she introduced me to quinoa. It cooks a lot like rice, and it has a considerable amount of protein for a plant. Buuuut, by itself it's kind of bitter and unexciting. So I did a little googling to see what else people have been doing with quinoa, and I decided to experiment with sweeter flavor additives: dried cranberries and sliced roasted almonds.

Ingredients:

- 1.5 Tbsp olive oil

- 1/4 cup finely diced sweet yellow onion

- 3 Tbsp dried cranberries (unsweetened)

- 3 Tbsp sliced roasted almonds

- 1 cup dry plain quinoa

- 2 cups water

- 1 dash garlic powder

- Salt & pepper, to taste.

Procedure:

1. In a small stainless steel saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat (but not so hot that it makes the oil shimmer and smoke). Saute the onions until they start to go translucent, but not brown.

2. Add the cranberries and almonds, stir, and let it heat up for a minute or 2. Then add the dry quinoa, and stir to coat all the grains in the oil. Let it heat up for a minute.

3. Add the water, turn the heat to high and bring the pot to a boil. Add the garlic powder, salt and pepper, and stir well. It's a good idea to taste the liquid, because that's how the quinoa will ultimately taste like. Once it's up to a good boil, turn the heat as low as possible, cover the pot, and let it sit for 8-10 minutes.

4. After about 8-10 minutes, lift the lid and give it a stir to make sure it's all cooked through. A good indicator that it's done is that the little thread-like things are separated from the grains. When you see it, you'll know what I'm talking about.

And Another New Contributor

Good lord, this "work" thing is taking too much of my time. Anyway, I've got another friend who's offered to provide content here and there. Welcome Adley. A little while ago, he and I devised a couple of scales to rank new restaurants we visit, a little better than the standard Yelp 1-5 stars. I'll let him fill in the details.