Asia 2013: Know Your Noodle

I'll admit that, on my first trip to Japan in 2010, my first impression of Tokyo was not the best. Granted I only gave myself approximately 2 days to enjoy a mega-city like that, and it was on the tail-end of the trip and I was sad about the idea of returning to work so soon. But one of the best things I took away from my first time in Tokyo was meeting up with my friend Nai for my first ever bowl of real ramen.

2010: Niboshi (fish-flavored broth) ramen at Nagi in Golden Gai, Shinjuku

On my 2nd trip in 2012, over the course of 10 days, my friends and I had at least 5 bowls of ramen each. It ranged from thick and spicy miso broth to the light and understated/underrated shio (sea-salt flavored) broth.

This time around, I knew I was going to have just a hot minute in Japan, and a couple of days were already accounted for. So I did a little research into what is the one bowl of ramen I should have on my layover in Tokyo before arriving in Singapore.

Fortunately, there's a number of American expat bloggers dedicated to sampling all of Tokyo's best ramen joints. The one in Ueno that they give glowing recommendations is Ramen Daiki Tenjinshita. They specialize in more of a chicken-based recipe. When I arrived, the first good sign was the line of people out the door.

Shoyu (soy sauce flavored) at Ramen Daiki Tenjinshita in Ueno

At first, the soup tasted like little more than chicken broth. But going deeper, I realized there was a lot more going on. It was nice and light like shio broth. I guess I've gotten so used to the thick tonkotsu (pork bone) broth that's more popular, and is available at Austin ramen houses Michi Ramen and Ramen Tatsu-ya. This soup was subtly complex, light, and doesn't bog you down in the end. And the toppings of green onion and clover sprouts accented it perfectly. So did the chashu (pork belly), cooked so well that the fat was nicely rendered off but the meat still tender enough to break apart with the slightest bit of chopstick pressure.


About a week later, after being shown the wonders of the foodie metropolis that is Singapore, and after rediscovering real relaxation off the gulf of Thailand, I got to spend 2 days with Nai in his swank Osaka bachelor pad. That 2nd night, he took me out for what would probably ruin me for this variety of ramen for the rest of life.

Itadakimasu

Tsukemen is a style of ramen where the soup is kept separate from the noodles so that you can dip each mouthful of noodles in it. San Ku (三く) is a special tsukemen shop in that it's not run by your typical ramen chef. It's been in operation for about 1 year now, and the chef is trained more in classical Japanese cuisine. So he takes flavors and techniques you find in fancy Japanese haute-cuisine, and twists them into his soup.

Thick noodles topped with what we think is dried husks of rice/wheat grains. And dat soup.

Normally, when you see the soup that thick and cloudy, it's from the marrow and fat rendered out of the pork bones. San Ku's soup, on the other hand, is flavored with bonito fish (?) and is thickened with grated Japanese mountain potato. I first learned about the mountain potato at my splurge-meal during my first visit to Kyoto. So you don't feel as bogged down and heavy in the end as you would with a tonkotsu soup.

Another feature the chef puts into the soup is a stash of "treasure" at the bottom of the bowl: bits of Japanese pickled plum (umeboshi) and shiso leaf under a super thin slice of crunchy lotus root. Shiso is like basil + mint + parsley + love. Umeboshi is strong and sour on your first try, but in small amounts it really enhances other flavors in your mouth, and it's pickled with some shiso leaf.

Nai tells me that he's gone to San Ku so many times now that he and the chef know each other by name now. And that sometimes when Nai goes to the shop, he's privileged with samples of the chef's new experimental recipes. Now I'm determined to change jobs to a company that will let me expat in the Osaka area.


Good God, I'm in shiso withdrawal right now.

More to come soon

Nothing inspires me to write new posts more than fresh new travel experiences. I had the pleasure of spending time with some good friends in Singapore, Thailand, and Japan. And that 2 week span was filled with some of the most outstanding food I've ever had on my travels. While I get my photos organized, enjoy a recap of my time in Singapore and Thailand over at Shannon and Adley's blog, starting here.

Comfort Food

It's been a pretty stressful month for me, and this week is proving to be especially bad. Now, this stress has started to manifest in my food cravings and the meals I have planned for this week. This is the very definition of comfort food: what I want to eat/cook when I'm feeling down.

When I go to the Whole Foods pre-cooked food bar, and they have out "Comfort Food," it's typical American/Southern foods: meatloaf, mac & cheese, casseroles. That's all too heavy to me, and doesn't jive with my palate.

Ideally, I'd have some of my mom's Haitian cooking as my comfort food. I could eat the pants off some braised chicken and rice with red beans, or white rice and black bean sauce, or some bouillon (pronounced boo-yohn). But I'm still working on getting up to my mom's level of Haitian cooking.

Until I get to that level, it seems my tastes tend toward Asian flavors: light, savory, salty, and a little bit sweet. My planned dinners for this week are a couple of good old standbys.

Mapo Tofu

I absolutely love mapo tofu; I sometimes use it as a benchmark for a new Chinese restaurant. It's bold, spicy, and just warms you up inside. The slight numbing sensation and increased salivation caused by the Sichuan peppercorns is just an added bonus :)

Yaki-Udon with Chicken & Veggies

It's super simple, just stir fry the cooked noodles, some broccoli, carrots, baby bok choy, and ginger in the right sauce. It's savory, but has that sweetness from the yaki-soba/yaki-udon sauce, and the bit of spice from the ginger.

Photo from lovehwaseong.kr

Soon Dubu Chigae (Korean soft tofu soup)

This isn't one that I can make myself yet, but sooner or later I will buy a Korean stew pot and try my hand at this. Soon dubu chigae is a hearty, spicy stew made from hot peppers, fish stock, silken tofu, prawns, clams, and a raw egg on top that cooks in the hot broth. Whenever I have a cold that just won't go away, I go to Korea House and order one of these.


I think I've associated Korean food with comfort ever since grad school, when I was commuting from Long Island to UWS Manhattan. My first semester final exams happened to fall on the first day of the NYC transit workers' strike, so none of the subways or city buses were running... and my exam started at 9am. Anticipating the delays on the LIRR, I took the 5am train into the city, and the ride that was typically 1 hour long took at least 2. Then I joined a group of people trying to grab a taxi uptown; easier said than done, when all the cabbies were gouging us.

Luckily we found a really nice van driver who could take us up to around 90th, and I'd have to walk the rest of the way. But I completely forgot to go a few avenues west before getting around 110th, because I ended up on the wrong side of Morningside Park. I backtracked and got to my first exam 35 minutes late. Oh, and the exam was difficult as sh!t.

So I handed in my exam, heart still pounding, feeling like crap, and not looking forward to my next exam in 5 hours. The first thing I wanted to do? Treat myself to a nicer lunch than usual. And so I went to Mill Korean Restaurant on 113th and B'way, and had a pot of soon dubu chigae, and then went to the EE student lounge for a nap.

For a moment, while I was face-deep into that hot stone pot, I didn't hate the world.

What's your go-to comfort food?

Roasted Whole Branzino in Cherry Tomato Sauce

I freaking love my new kitchen. I love all the counter space on the island, the granite counter tops, the deep sink. The hanging pot rack still has me a little paranoid that one day all of it is going to come crashing down. But nonetheless, I still make good use of it.

Once I got all my kitchen things out of their boxes and in their proper places, and organized my pantry-and-utility-closet-and-laundry-room, it was time to get back to regular cooking. And this was one of the first meals I made for myself once the kitchen was up and running. It's super simple, so I won't go into details on the procedure.

Whole Foods recently started carrying fresh whole fish. Or maybe they've been carrying whole fish for a while now and I'm just late to the party. Either way, their Mediterranean sea bass (branzini) looked fascinating. It was already gutted, and the guy at the counter gladly scaled it for me. Pret-à-cuisiner.

All I did with it was rub its skin with olive oil, season liberally with salt and crushed black pepper and a little bit of dried oregano, and stuff the cavity with a couple of springs of fresh rosemary and fresh dill and 3 thin slices of lemon. Put it in an oven-safe roasting pan and put it in an oven preheated to 375 deg for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, flip the fish to its other side, and set the oven to broil for 2 minutes.

I made a really simple sauce to go with it, using grape tomatoes, shallots, fresh dill, and sake.  Why sake? I didn't have any white wine in house, and I was enjoying the fantastic sake I brought back from my trip to Japan. Call it a successful experiment.

I did feel a little guilty using my good sake for cooking, so the 2nd time around with this sauce, I bought the cheapo stuff that's everywhere in the States, Gekkeikan. It's unfortunate that the standard bottle of Gekkeikan in the US is not really that good (served chilled, anyway), even though it's one of Japan's oldest breweries. Actually one of the world's oldest companies, est 1637. And they have a wide variety of premium sake sold overseas that I'm sure are way better than what we have access to.

Sauté some shallots in olive oil and add 1 cup of halved grape tomatoes, then add about a half cup of sake and the fresh dill.

Quick, easy, and tasty. Just watch out for bones.

Home, part 2

It's a pretty cool feeling, saying "my house."

I spent the past week transporting my remaining things out of my apartment and into my house. And today, I've taken some time to unpack some boxes and put away my kitchen items. The closest thing I've had to a home-cooked meal in the past 2 weeks was a bowl of cereal this morning, so I'm definitely looking forward to getting back into action.

Japan: The Izakaya

Kanji: 居酒屋
Hiragana: いざかや
Romaji: I ZAKA YA

Literally translated, the characters mean "to stay" and "liquor" and "shop". Altogether, it means "pub." It's Japan's version of where you can get yourself a drink, order some food, let loose and socialize. It could be bottled big-name beers like Sapporo, or craft brews on tap, or sake brewed down the street and bottled with a hand-drawn label. It could be beautifully presented sashimi, or it could be homestyle fried chicken. My point is that Japan's izakaya are as diverse as your favorite bars in the States.

When I first visited Japan in November 2010, I traveled alone. As fun and liberating solo travel is, sometimes you just want some good conversation and human interaction. I quickly learned that an izakaya is the place to be. When you're a lone foreigner sitting at the counter, you're bound to make your neighbors and the staff curious. Here's a recap of my first true izakaya experience in Kyoto in 2010.

On my second trip to Japan, I traveled with 3 other guys, definitely a good group to travel with. It was incredible for me to be back in Japan with some experience and a little more Japanese language skill under my belt. It was also great to have other people to share this journey with. Part of that journey, of course, was bar-hopping, and we got a pretty good sampling of izakaya during it.

思い出横丁, Omoide Yokocho, a.k.a. Memory Lane, Piss Alley.

Located in Shinjuku, Tokyo

 

This is a popular collection of izakaya jam-packed together over a couple of city blocks. You can get ramen/soba/udon noodles, yakitori (char-grilled whatever on a stick), yakiniku (meat/veggies that you can grill for yourself on an open flame), etc. Omoide Yokocho, pronounced oh-MO-ee-day YO-ko-cho, first popped up after WWII in a war-torn Tokyo. It was a den of market stalls, then became a cheap dining/drinking destination, and eventually a really poppin' drinking/nightlife area. This video gives you a good feel of walking down Memory Lane.

What did we consume? First and foremost, costly table space. We only entered 2 izakaya there because there was a 300 yen table charge per person just about everywhere. At the first place: chilled saké and yakitori. Specifically, chicken hearts, chicken thigh, green onion, chicken liver, chicken meatballs, pork tongue, and other stuff I forget. It was tasty, but not satisfying, as is most Japanese bar food when shared among friends. On a more positive note, a tipsy salaryman gave me a high-5 as we squeezed into our table in the back corner.

At the second place: more chilled sake and self-grilled meats on an open flame. We ordered tuna cheek, marinated octopus, and whale bacon. Yes. Whale Bacon (the orange-ish looking squares in the lower right).

有楽町, Yurakucho Yakitori Alley
Located under Yurakucho station, walking distance to Ginza

photo from dannychoo.com

Yakitori Alley is another post-war throwback. I actually stumbled upon one section of it by accident during my first trip in 2010. I got lost in Ginza, trying to walk from Tsukiji fish market to Shinbashi station, and I ended up near Yurakucho station. Underneath the train tracks I found a few small yakitori shops, sat at one that had an English menu, and had some nice skewers and a mug of Asahi. 


On this past trip, the group and I headed here after we got sick of the table charges in Memory Lane. Food and drinks were cheaper here than at Memory Lane, but no more filling. I think we got more chilled sake and similar skewers to what we had at the first place in Memory Lane. Afterward, still hungry, we ended up wandering around the corner and filling up on some spicy miso ramen. At the time, we thought that Yurakucho Yakitori Alley only went as far as the 2 or 3 shops inside this tunnel. Apparently it goes farther.


Ginza Seaman's Club
Located near Higashi-Ginza Station

Sharing some conversation and shots with Fumihide-san

On our last night in Tokyo, the other guys wanted to go out and experience Tokyo's wild and crazy nightclub scene in Shibuya. I'm really not a fan of loud, hot, and crowded clubs, so I opted to stay behind and try one of the bars near our hotel by myself. I saw one bar open, took a seat at the counter, and ordered a Japanese whiskey from the bartender's recommendation, Nikka single malt on the rocks. I sincerely hope that Nikka picks up some distributors in the USA, it is outstanding.


Fumihide the bartender spoke a bit of English, but it was good practice for my limited Japanese. We chatted about my trip thus far, the history of the bar (built from wood and metal reclaimed from old boats), and even our favorite music. Fumihide even surprised me with a complimentary shot. I was really happy to have found my bar in Tokyo.


大衆酒BAR, Taishuu Sake Bar
Located in Downtown Sendai

When the bar is playing Lionel Richie music videos, and a tipsy local gentleman buys you all a round, you know you've found a good place.

The day after I went out to the bar alone, I shared my experience at Ginza Seaman's Club with my travel buddies. They were jealous of my good times with a local, so that night we set out to do the same thing in Sendai. We stumbled upon a tiny place with a big yellow sign that said "BAR," so we went for it.

After we ordered a round of sake, the nice guy in the photos above in the black jacket greeted us. He was excited to see foreigners visiting Sendai, especially after the events of the 3/11 earthquake/tsunami/nuclear-disaster, and wanted to make sure we thoroughly enjoyed the locally-brewed sake. He ordered us a bottle of Hitakami (日高見) brewed in Ishinomaki, a small coastal city northeast of Sendai that was particularly ravaged by the tsunami. I'm no expert sake-taster and I can't pick out individual flavor/aroma components, but Hitakami was smooth and delicious. As was the Mori No Kikukawa, brewed in Sendai.

We invited him to sit and drink with us, and we all talked. Or rather, he and I spoke in a combination of broken English and beginners' Japanese. We told him how we were enjoying Japan, he told us about places in the USA he wishes he could visit. We shared some food and lots more local sake, Mori No Kikukawa from Sendai. The food, however, wasn't quite to my liking. I don't like pig intestines, and definitely not intestines stuffed with natto. All-in-all it was a fantastic night, and our new friend was super-appreciative of us supporting Northern Japan's recovery.


べっぴんや, Beppin-Ya
Located in Downtown Kyoto

 

This is the izakaya that in 2010 started my love of popping into random Japanese bars. I befriended Shingo and his staff, as well as local clothing store owner and blogger Taka, and we've all kept in touch online since then. Some changes at Beppin-Ya from my first visit: some new staff members who speak a bit of English, and a full menu translated to English.

That night we just enjoyed chilled local sake, most likely brewed in southern Kyoto's Fushimi district, chock full of independent breweries. Unfortunately we didn't make enough time to visit a second time to enjoy the food. Their specialty is free-range chicken from Kagoshima, served in a variety of ways. Breast and liver sashimi; char-grilled thighs and skin; hot-pots and noodle soups; etc.


This is only a subset of our bar-hopping experience in Japan, but still pretty representative of the variety of ways to get your drink on.  Dive bars under the train tracks, tiny pub-shacks that fit no more than 8-10 local businessmen, theme bars with impressive collections of bourbons and rums, and full-on restaurants with excellent hook-ups for local sake. Whatever your preference is, just grab your Japanese-English phrasebook, prepare to use a lot of hand gestures, and jump right in.

Home

Oh snap, I'm officially the proud owner of a townhouse condo in South Austin!
Starting at the end of this month, or the beginning of next month, this is will be my new base of operations.

Mmmm, granite

Photo from austinhomesearch.com

Taiwan: Night Markets (Redux)

I said this in 2010, but it bears repeating: night markets are God's gift to the world. The closest thing Austin has to a night market is its vast collection of trailer park eateries. But they pale in comparison to the energy, the scale, and the wonderful wonderful cheapness of the real night market experience.

Just picture something like Austin's Old Pecan Street Festival, minus the live music and the nicely organized tents. Streets lined with carts stacked with exotic foods -- exotic to me, anyway -- or local handicrafts and souvenirs. Carts full of grilled tofu, fresh sliced tropical fruit, fried chicken, and whatever-you-want on a stick. How do you know what's good? Common sense, just go where the line is longest.

And this happens just about every night, and in multiple neighborhoods (depending on the city). I think we tried 3 different true night markets in the Taipei area.

Jingmei Night Market

The first was a small one right around the corner from our apartment at Jingmei Station on the Taipei subway. It was only 2 short blocks long, and not too much of a selection. BUT, there was a good-sized crowd around this cart.

One Mandarin Chinese word I learned on this trip: Là = spicy

Tofu, fish balls, mushrooms, veggies, bacon-wrapped leeks, chicken breast, and random whatever on a stick. Grab a red basket, fill it up with whatever skewers you want, and they spice it and grill it up perfectly. 11 NT$ (or 33¢) per skewer. This, just about every night after a full day of sightseeing, was our nightcap.


Jilong (Keelung Night Market)

They didn't turn the lanterns on this time :(

This was the first night market that my friend Jason took me to on my 2010 visit, and my first night market experience ever. Unlike the standard night market, which has some mix of food carts and clothing and miscellaneous souvenirs, Jilong's is really all about the food (from what I could see, anyway).

And it's pretty damn big, with carts going around a couple of city blocks, right next to Jilong's harbor. I didn't realize this last time, but Jilong Night Market's specialty is seafood, taking full advantage of locally caught fish, squid, and shellfish.

The highlights this time around:

Pig knuckle/trotter meat. Perfectly cooked, the cartilage had a nice chewy texture.

Squid and shrimp ball soup, and thick noodles in sauce.

Crab legs. Okay, this wasn't really much of a highlight. It was too much work for little reward, but I have to feature the local seafood.

Sushi. We actually didn't try this cart, thought our money was better spent elsewhere. Besides, the 3 yellow pieces on the far right... that's not sea urchin, it's sweet corn.

Shilin Night Market

 

You can't go to night markets in Taipei without experiencing Shilin. It's Taipei's biggest, stretching from Shilin Station to Jiantan Station. It's also one of the most famous night markets worldwide. Last time, I honestly didn't do it right. I was still full from lunch, so I was less inclined to just grab a bit of anything and everything that looked popular.

Also, I wasn't aware that there are 2 levels of Shilin night market; I walked around the markets on the streets, totally unaware that there was this underground area all along. I should also mention that I would not want to be down there in the middle of a hot, humid summer.

The highlights of Shilin Night Market:

Oyster omelette

 Fried stinky (fermented) tofu

Fried chicken breast. Boneless, incredibly juicy, and big as your face.

And then there was the star of the night, a tropical fruit of legend. People either love it or hate it... but mostly hate it.

D U R I A N

People describe fresh durian as having a smell as strong and foul as rotting garbage, or even death itself. Public spaces and hotels in Southeast Asia (home of the durian) are known to have signs banning people from bringing durian onto the premises. But when I saw that spiked-football-looking thing on the cart, I had to try it.

The texture is like thick, fibrous custard. And honestly, the smell wasn't as strong or foul as I expected. Maybe it was out of season, or previously frozen, or genetically modified to not smell horrible. But it just had a gassy smell with a faint undertone of overripe mango, and I really had to get my face into it to smell it. The taste was surprisingly bland, again like gassy, almost onion-y overripe mango.

One day, I want to try durian again. But I want the real deal, not this weak sh-t. Hopefully I'll get to visit Singapore next year. And while I'm there, I'll try out the Singaporean counterpart to night markets, hawker centres.