Daily Gluttony

I've Moved!

2009-02-24T21:19:00.001-08:00

That ain't all gut, yo. There was a baby growing in there.

Now you get to look at a photo of pregnant DG every time you go to this blog instead of seeing that same old post from 2007 about asparagus pee!

Anyways, this happened and that happened, and to make a long story short, I have a new blog called Rants and Craves. Hit it up to see me eat and bitch, and then eat some more.

Ciao,
DG

Now I'm One Of "Those" Girls

2007-11-15T14:40:00.000-08:00

Dear Lady,

Please do not decide to go to the bathroom after I had already gone in there and pee'd out my roasted asparagus lunch. And please do not come out of your stall right when I'm trying to do a rush hand washing job so as to not reveal myself as the "stinky pee girl." That's not nice.

Hugs,
DG

Puerto Rico: A Brand New Flava In My Ear

2007-09-23T20:58:00.000-07:00

Ah September.

This September is particularly important to me because it marks A) the fact that my husband and I have survived one year of marriage without killing each other and B) the fact that in a year, we haven't taken any sort of vacation. Those two facts combined was enough reason for us to pack our bags and head eastward to my husband's native Puerto Rico.

They call the island "La Isla Del Encanto" (The Island Of Enchantment) and after a visit of only a week, I can see why. Because after that one week, there are many things I miss about it already. I miss that all its buildings, no matter if in wealthy community or in a not-so-wealthy one, are painted in colors that make you think of ice cream and salt water taffy. I miss the singing of the coquí, a type of tree frog native to the island, at night. I miss the warmth and hospitality of my in-laws and everyone else that I met. And the food...

Yes, I miss the food dearly.

Until last week, my understanding of Puerto Rican food has been based on four meals: two good but very limited meals from a Puerto Rican cafe in Maui of all places and from my husband's grandmother, and two bad ones from a couple of half-assed but rare-to-come-by Puerto Rican-slash-Mexican-or-pan-Caribbean joints here in the Southland. Until last week, my knowledge of Puerto Rican food was limited pretty much to pasteles, a dish similar to tamales but made with plantains instead of corn masa and wrapped in a banana leaf instead of a corn husk, and arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas). But after my trip, my experience with Puerto Rican flavors expanded in a big way, and I was lucky enough to taste it both the home-cooked- and restaurant-cooked way.

So what is Puerto Rican food like? Well first let me show you where and what I ate...

Mami's (a.k.a. my Mother-In-Law's) meal of carne mechada, arroz y habichuelas, amarillos, and guineos en escabeche could not have been any more comforting after a long trip out from the mainland. Beef braised with potatoes, green olives, onion and tomato paired with Puerto Rico's "daily bread"--medium-grain rice with a nice hint of oil, stewed pink beans, and sweet plantains--warmed and soothed the soul despite heat and humidity that made one feel like they were breathing hot mud.

carne mechada

A dish that I'd never heard of was guineos en escabeche, a dish of green bananas marinated in oil, vinegar, onion and garlic. Both filling and slightly refreshing from the unripe banana flavor, this is a dish that has a definite acquired taste.

guineos en escabeche

Mami's arroz con salchichas, or rice with vienna sausages, was downright ghetto, and I loved it. How many times have I thrown Spam and corn together to make fried rice? How many times did my Grandma slice hot dogs up and throw them into her fried rice? How do you think kimchi bokum-bap was created? The same way arroz con salchichas was invented, I'm sure. I gobbled this up, along with a delicious pastel filled with tender pork and a pastelillo, an empanada-like pastry filled with a tasty ground beef and cheese mixture.

pastel y arroz con salchichas

pastelillo

My husband and I stayed in Isla Verde, a beachy area near the airport that's densely packed with hotels and tourists. I think it's where alot of Caribbean cruise goers make their layover, hence the abundance of tourist trappy chain restaurants such as Ruth's Chris Steak House and Momoyama in the area. For us, however, it was pretty much all about roadside food, and in Puerto Rico, there is definitely no lack of it. We ate at Bebo's BBQ one night, drive-in like joint located in Carolina right alongside the highway. We were the only tourists amongst a long line of locals--a good sign if you ask me. For a little over thirteen bucks, we got ourselves three huge plates of food: a half pound of lechon asado (roast pork) roasted so that the meat stayed juicy-tender and the skin had a perfect crackly crunch, one half a pollo asado (roast chicken) also perfectly roasted, some amarillos (sauteed plantains) and a plate of morcilla (Sausage stuffed with blood and rice).

lechon asado

I wanted to like the morcilla--I really did--but it was the intense culantro flavor in the thing that sent me away. Culantro is an herb used frequently in Puerto Rican cooking--an herb that's like cilantro's evil-er twin brother--and those that know me well know that I'll eat pretty much anything--stomach, intestines, blood, liver, kidneys--but nothing makes me gag faster than that vile soapy weed. No offense, cilantro and culantro lovers.

morcilla sausage

One of the favorite parts of this trip was the drive along the northeastern coast of the island. As we left Isla Verde and headed east into the towns of Piñones and Loíza, there was literally food kiosk after food kiosk on the sides of the road. This had to be unreal, right? Was I dreaming that I could literally stop and get some good, down-home food and snacks, drive off, stop at the beach and play, get back in the car, drive down the road some more, stop at another food kiosk and repeat the process over and over again? If I had been dreaming, I'd never want to wake up. But it was all real. It was not a dream.

imagine this times a hundred

I think it was a good thing that it was still relatively early and that many of these kioskos were not open for business yet, else I would have had to stop at all of them. And then I would have gained 40 pounds solely from all the fried snacks I would have eaten. No, fortunately for me, we stopped at only a few and I perhaps gained only 10 pounds from all the delicious snacks I ate. At any one of these kioskos, you can get mofongo (a dish made of mashed fried green plantains), arroz con jueyes (rice with crab), a variety of seafood cocktails, and best of all, a variety of deep fried snacks. My favorite one was the pionono, made of sweet plantain stuffed with seasoned ground beef and deep fried--so fucking good with its crispy, caramelized exterior that gave way to a juicy interior of both sweet and salty flavors.

alcapurrias and bacalaitos being prepared

pionono

a closer look at the pionono

I also loved the popular alcapurria, a fried tube-shaped snack made of a mixture of plantains and yautia and stuffed with meat, in this case, ground beef.

alcapurria

I wish that the place that made my bacalaito, a salt cod fritter and another local favorite, had made it better. The one we had tasted of stale oil and we were just too stuffed to try one from another place.

bacalaito

For about a buck more at most of these kioskos, you can add a cup of ice cold mavi, a drink made of the bark of the Colubrina tree and sugar. Definitely an acquired taste, mavi has a sweetish-tartish taste to it and is probably what drinking liquid haw flakes would be like. Sorry, but I think I like my haw flakes better in solid form.

mavi

And as if the kioskos in Piñones and Loíza were not enough, there are even more a little further eastward in the coastal town of Luquillo. Here, there is about a three block stretch of end-on-end kioskos selling the same types of foods.

luquillo's seemingly endless stretch of kioskos

It was here that I tried mofongo for the first time and fell in love. It's a dish made with fried green plantains mashed with garlic, oil and chicharrones, served either with a side of meat or relleno (filled) with some type of meat. I chose to have mine con carne frita, with fried pork chunks. The pork was fried until the meat was a wee bit crispy and until its luscious layer of fat had a nice snap to it. Paired with the garlicky salitiness of the mofongo, I was in heaven.

mofongo con carne frita

now that's beauty

Afterwards, I had some cold coconut water (coco frio) served in a whole coconut to wash it down. Good, but the place we got it from needed to serve it colder.

coco frio

While in Luquillo, we also tried a place called King Seafood that Mami recommended, a place not within the slew of kioskos, but tucked away on another street. It was here that I really discovered how fresh Puerto Rican seafood can be. Though the name in Spanish escapes me, we had these fried mahi-mahi nuggets that were so damn fresh that I almost mistook them for chicken.

mcfreshfishnuggets

Asopao, a soup made with some sort of meat (in this case shrimp) and rice, was enjoyed by all except yours truly because of its heavy culantro flavor.

asopao de camarrones

Ensalada de pulpo, a cocktail-like salad of octopus, peppers and onions, was refreshing after having eaten so much fried food and red meat and further showcased the island's fresh seafood.

ensalada de pulpo

On the side, some tostones, fried patties of green plantain, and sorullitos de maíz, fried corn fritters reminiscent of hushpuppies, were welcome additions to our meal.

tostones

sorullitos de maíz

So what is Puerto Rican food like, you ask? From what I know now, it's a cuisine that combines Indian, Spanish, and African influences into a flavor all its own. Fried, stewed and roasted meats are popular and are often served with rice and beans or some sort of tropical starchy fruit/root/tuber such as the plantain or yucca. Foods are generously seasoned, say, with sofrito, adobo, achiote or sazón, but are not spicy in a scotch bonnet pepper sort of way. I could go on and on with my descriptions and observations about Puerto Rican cuisine, but the most important thing I took away was that wherever I ate, whether it was at Mami's house or at some guy's pincho stand on the side of the road, there was alot of heart put into this food...the kind of passion that comes only when one reaches to the depths of one's soul to cook like it's the last time they'll ever cook. That, my friends, is Puerto Rican cuisine.

Food Of The Conchords: So Hot They're Like A Curry

2007-08-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

Folk-comedy duos from New Zealand who make me laugh my ass off are pretty cute. Folk-comedy duos from New Zealand who make me laugh my ass off AND who have subtle-but-recurring food themes on their HBO show The Flight Of The Conchords are mother flipping hot.

After only eight 30-minute episodes that have aired thus far, I've heard about talking stoves, animated racist dragons that cry jelly bean tears, Chinese roast duck, samosas, Muesli, lasagna for one, a girl so hot she's like a curry, buying kebabs for a girl who's so beautiful she could be a part-time model, girls and spaghetti, and best of all, croissants and wingmen. It's confirmed: I have a major geeky-crush on these guys. They make me want to do my hair into a flip, throw on my favorite shift dress and go have a carefree picnic in the park followed by a glittery night out at the discotheque.

Don't you wish all trips to le supermarché were this fun?

Flight Of The Conchords
Sundays at 10:30pm , HBO.

(photos--from left to right, top to bottom--courtesy of : wikimedia.org, New York Apple Country, Barilla, answers.com, HBO, frenchfriends.info, Whisk and Pin, Daily Gluttony, Daily Gluttony, Marions Kochbuch, Dominik Hundhammer via wikimedia.org, rouiba.com, Recipes4us, Kansas State University Animal Sciences & Industry, Oregon State University Food Resource, All Creatures)

Mmmm, donuts...

2007-07-29T20:50:00.000-07:00

No, I am not going to go see the movie, but I just had to have one of these. I mean, come on, it's pink!

Needless to say, I crashed hard within about an hour. D'oh!

Cockfight!: Savoy Kitchen Vs. Dong Nguyen, Alhambra

2007-06-13T21:17:00.000-07:00

(photo courtesy of http://www.gotouring.com/)

A long time ago in a Chinese province far, far away, someone created a dish that's almost ingenious in its simplicity. Someone took a fat hen, boiled the thing until the meat was plump and tender, and served it on some chicken stock-flavored rice. Someone did this and before you know it, this dish from the Chinese province of Hainan found its way into neighboring Southeast Asian countries such as Singapore, Malaysia, and Vietnam and eventually into the stomachs of those of us who have fallen in love with the simple dish otherwise known as Hainan Chicken Rice.

If you've never had Hainan Chicken Rice before, I suggest you try it because simply put, it's fucking good. OK, OK, so maybe it's not orgasmic good like sushi is or fancy, multi-dimensional good like say, a dinner at Providence, but like I said, it's simple good. It's tasty. It's comforting. It's unoffensive in every possible way except maybe to a vegetarian.

Fortunately for me and my Hainan Chicken Rice cravings as of late, there are two places in my new 'hood that I know of where at least 65% of the diners at any given time are eating this dish. It would only be appropriate, then, that last week, I decided to stage a cockfight: Would Savoy Kitchen's Hainan Chicken Rice rip its opponent from down the street, Dong Nguyen, apart, or would Dong Nguyen show Savoy Kitchen who's boss?

In this corner...Savoy Kitchen!

And in this corner...Dong Nguyen!

*Ding, Ding!*

Round One: The Chicken Itself.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's places that serve Cantonese-style boiled chicken, which has more of an al dente bite and where alot of the connective tissue remains, and try to pass it off as Hainan Chicken. Fortunately both Savoy and Dong Nguyen's chicken is boiled until the meat is plump, tender and falling off the bone, both chickens having the slight taste of chicken-y oil, which trust me, is a good thing. Savoy's chicken is cut into larger, cleaner chunks whereas Dong Nguyen's chicken was cut into smaller pieces and had bone shards that kept stabbing the roof of my mouth. The winner? Savoy Kitchen because I prefer bone shard-free eating.

Round Two: The Rice.

I am not kidding when I say that I could eat Hainan Chicken Rice-Rice by itself. If I could, I would substitute the chicken-fat-drizzled or cooked-in-chicken-stock jasmine rice for the white rice that I normally eat with my meals, problem being that I would end up as big as a house. This one was a tie for me. The rice both at Savoy and at Dong Nguyen, being fluffy and full of chicken-y goodness without being too oily, would definitely put me into big, fat house-hood. It was difficult to tell them apart, really. I guess if I had to be really specific then I'd say that Dong Nguyen's rice was a little more chicken-y; Savoy's had more of a twinge of oil and salt. But I liked them both just as much.

Round Three: The Sauces

Say what you will about how much you love the chicken or the rice on your Hainan Chicken Rice, but Hainan Chicken Rice just isn't Hainan Chicken Rice without the dipping sauce or sauces that come with. The Hainan Chicken Rice that I'm used to is typically served with a trio of dipping sauces: one--a sauce of minced ginger and oil, two--a spicy sambal of red chile and lime and three--a dark soy sauce. All three work in unison to add some salty, spicy and even sweet touches to the already delicious dish. Savoy Kitchen's version, which is more true to Singaporean form, comes with these exact three sauces which, because I love them so much, are usually refilled at least once before I'm done.

Savoy Kitchen's Dipping Sauces

But as with foods like pizza and barbeque, there are also regional differences in Hainan Chicken Rice, which is why I'm assuming that since Dong Nguyen is of Vietnamese/Chiu Chow influence, their Hainan Chicken Rice is served with a sweet, vinegary dipping sauce that's a teeny bit reminiscent of ngoc cham (the dipping sauce that normally pairs with cha gio a.k.a. fried Vietnamese spring rolls) only spiked with ginger and more on the sweet side. The winner? Savoy Kitchen. Savoy Kitchen's sauce trio are true team players that work so well in unison with the chicken and rice, hence the refills. As for Dong Nguyen's sauce, not so much. Although it was markedly different than Savoy's sauces, it just wasn't as nearly as complimentary to the big picture, which is why I hardly used it.

Bonus Round: Atmosphere

This one's a draw too because it just depends on what floats your boat. Savoy Kitchen has an outdoor seating area that's pretty nice on a warm Southern California evening. But it's small and gets really crowded with young San Gabriel Valley hipsters sporting the latest in cell-phone technology (including the very necessary Sanrio cell phone charm), so be prepared to wait for a table. Other menu items include Hong Kong Coffeeshop-style fare such as curries and baked rice dishes and even pizzas and pastas. Service is pretty quick, however, especially if ordering the Hainan Chicken Rice, which the place seems to crank out at factory speed.

Hipster hangout, or...

Dong Nguyen is surrounded by 168 Chinese supermarket, a bargain clothing store, and a CVS Pharmacy in an odd strip mall whose tenants have cowboy movie-inspired facades. The atmosphere is virtually zero (which is probably why their Hainan Chicken Rice is twenty-five cents less than Savoy's at six bucks vs. six-and-a-quarter) but the place is clean, and you won't have to wait amongst a crowd of cigarette smoking, D&G-clad twenty-somethings. Go here if you're not in the mood to accompany your Hainan Chicken Rice with pizza since typical Chiu Chow dishes such as hu tieu can be found here instead. Oh, and as opposed to Savoy's street parking situation, there is plenty of lot parking available.

...faux western stripmall?

So the winner of this cockfight, not by death or knockout, but by unanimous decision, is...(drumroll please)...Savoy Kitchen! In the end, I just think that Savoy Kitchen delivers a much tighter package with its Hainan Chicken Rice. But that's not to say that Dong Nguyen doesn't put up a good fight. I mean, hey, if I'm jonesin' for some Hainan Chicken Rice and the wait at Savoy is too long, I'm heading down the street and Dong Nguyen wins.

Savoy Kitchen
138 E. Valley Blvd.
Alhambra, CA 91801
(626) 308-9535
Closed Sundays. Cash Only.

Dong Nguyen
1433 E. Valley Blvd.
Alhambra, CA 91801
(626) 300-8618
Closed Thursdays. Cash Only.

Wild Mushroom Risotto Anyone?

2007-06-03T20:17:00.000-07:00

Having your own backyard for the first time opens your eyes up to a whole new world of stuff.

Like today, I noticed that there are 'shrooms sprouting up in random places on my lawn. Question is, are they edible, poisonous, or hallucinogenic? I don't think I'll ever find out, but if I had to rank them in order of what I'd prefer, I'd choose number one first, then number three, and number two last.

Show Me Some Skin: Shik Do Rak, Koreatown

2007-05-21T22:00:00.000-07:00

Let's perform a little exercise, shall we? Read the following lines and tell me what comes to mind:

I love skin.

I love it when it's dry.

I love it when it's wet.

I love it when it's a little bit salty.

I love to lick it. I love to bite it. I love to smack it up, flip it, rub it down...

Now I'm assuming that most of you need to get your mind out of the gutter.

But if you're at all in touch with your Asian side, you'll know that since the Chinese word for food wrapper is also the word for "skin," that I could also be talking about that. You know, like wonton wrappers, er, I mean skins. Eggroll skins. Gyoza skins. Mu Shu skins. Mandoo skins. Xiu Long Bao skins. Burrito skins (aka tortillas) And in this case, I am.

See what I mean?

From what I hear, as far as a certain type of Korean skin is concerned, Shik Do Rak in Koreatown is apparently the self-proclaimed Home-Of-It.

And so it was that Mr. DG and I met up at Shik Do Rak with our favorite foodblogging couple, Jeni of Oishii Eats and Dylan of Eat, Drink, & Be Merry to see what this skin was all about. No, I'm not talking about Korean burlesque, you naughty little minxes. No, no, I'm talking about duk bo sam, otherwise known as Korean rice wrappers.

The process at Shik Do Rak is pretty simple. Grill up your meat. Dip it into the delicious garlicky, beany, red pepper paste and/or into the salted oil. Put it onto a square of duk bo sam. Top with some of the flavorless-needed-to-be-dressed lettuce salad. Wrap it up. Eat. Repeat. Have some of the not-too-plentiful panchan and some Hite beer while you're at it. Shik Do Rak's menu isn't all too complicated either with its handful of meat choices and just a sprinkling of other non-BBQ dishes. We did this whole wrap thing with some chadol baegi which are thin, ribbon-like slices of beef (very reminiscent of the beef curls that you see at those Mongolian BBQ places), beef tongue and beef short rib. Making things even easier is the restaurant's super-attentive wait staff: just ask and you shall receive. And if for some strange reason you don't, just ask the ultra-friendly owner--a cute little older gentleman who literally goes to each table to check on them--and you definitely shall receive.

This...

Plus this (cooked of course)...

And this...

Equals this!

I liked this place, but definitely not because of the meat. Though its overall quality was decent, its flavor left something to be desired because it wasn't pre-marinated. No, my friends, it's all about the duk bo sam here. There's something about the cool, chewy snap of the wrapper against the freshly grilled meat that has one coming back for more. After all, this is the house of skin, er, I mean duk bo sam, isn't it?

Shik Do Rak
2501 W. Olympic Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90006
(213) 384-4148

(To get Eat, Drink, & Be Merry's take on our Shik Do Rak outing, go here!)

DG's Basement Tapes: Restaurant Koshiji, Little Tokyo

2007-05-15T12:47:00.000-07:00

(This post is the first in a series of gawd-knows-how-many unfinished posts I have hidden deep in the depths of my post library. Had I been more on top of it, this post should have been published in December.)

There are Los Angeles foodbloggers.

And there are San Diego foodbloggers.

And there would certainly come a time for the two to meet. So when Kirk, our beloved foodblogger from San Diego, emailed me to tell me he'd be in town, I arranged a mini get-together of local bloggers for the two groups so co-mingle. But somewhere in that fucked-up, obsessed-with-Bizarro-mind of mine, I couldn't help but think of the "Bizarro Jerry" episode of Seinfeld where Jerry, George and Kramer finally come face to face with Elaine's new friends who bore an uncanny resemblance to her OG chums. What if, despite so many similarities most of which revolve around our common passion for food, we had absolutely nothing to talk about once we met up? I imagined uncomfortable moments of silence, obligatory questions like "So...I hear it's going to rain this weekend" followed by "Uh yeah. Mm-hmm" and twiddling thumbs.

Fortunately, however, our Bizarro meet up was far from boring. On a Saturday night, some of us Angeleno foodbloggers--Oishii Eats, Eat, Drink, and Be Merry, Best of LA, Rick James/Diet Chili Cheese Fries, and myself--came face-to-face with Kirk and fellow San Diegan food fiend Jack at Little Tokyo's Restaurant Koshiji. I don't think there was one odd moment of silence as we all had so much to talk about; this was the first time meeting and/or hanging out with Kirk for some of us but it felt as though all of us had known each other for years. I'm really glad to have added Kirk--such a funny, kind and caring person--to my growing circle of food-loving friends.

Unlike its loud & trafficky Bizarro twin Kokekokko down the street, Koshiji is more of a low-key yakitori joint. Service can be extremely slow which could swing the pendulum on meetups like ours either way: either it could make things even more uncomfortable if say, the foodbloggers from the other side of town really are like Bizarro Jerry, or in our case, it gave us more time to chat over the good chow we've had in recent weeks and drool over Kirk's recent experience at Urusawa.

Small cups of raw vegetables with a small dish of miso-based dipping sauce seem to be included with each person's place setting; a much welcomed snack while we waited for our server to take our order and bring us our food, but unfortunately not quite enough for people like ourselves who were starving.

Cup O' Veg

Finally, our food started to arrive. Although we all ordered separately, our food came out very much un-separately, so it took some investigating to remember who ordered what and in what quantities. Luckily, one of the things Isaac and I ordered was Koshiji's chicken yakitori course, so those skewers had been separated from the rest of the pack.

The chicken-on-a-stick course was on the whole, unimpressive. The plain ol' poultry meat skewers--negima (chicken w/ green onion), tsukune (chicken meat ball), sasami (chicken breast with shiso leaf), kamo (duck breast w/ miso sauce) and tebakara (chicken wings)--though not bad, didn't have that just-came-off-the-grill caramelized and smoky wow-factor that I was looking for. My favorite part of a yakitori meal, however, comes not so much from the chicken-meats-on-a-stick but rather from the chicken-parts-on-a-stick. While the liver skewer was just plain gross, the crunchy-textured sunagimo, or chicken gizzard, skewer was pretty damn good as were the cute little quail-eggs-on-a-stick, better known as uzura.

Just So-So Chicken-Parts-On-A-Stick

Our yakitori chicken course came with a bowl of soboro-don, a hearty bowl of seasoned ground chicken with egg over rice, and a small cup of broth with...cilantro???? Koshiji lost major points with me right there--what person in their right mind puts cilantro on Japanese food? The soup was given straight to Isaac. He loved it. Enough said. As for the soboro-don, I thought it was a little on the bland side, not quite as tasty as the one I'd had down the street at Kokekokko.

A Match Made In Hell

Soboro-Don: Not Your Typical Mall Chicken Bowl

Koshiji was able to redeem itself with some of its other menu choices, however. Their chicken karaage, probably the only non-food-on-a-stick item we ordered that night, was crisp on the outside, tender on the inside and had nice hints of soy and ginger. We almost mistook our kaori (pork belly) wrapped around subtley spicy shiso leaf for grilled mushroom caps upon first glance, but fortunately figured out that they were not someone else's grilled funghi dish. Grilled spirals of squid (ika), scored for even more textural interest and wrapped around shiso leaf, were also delicious. Toumorokoshi (sweet corn) were charred in just the right spots. And with our orders of what are probably my two favorite meat-on-a-stick of all time--crispy kawa (chicken skin) and salted-just-right tan (beef tongue)--koshiji certainly did not disappoint.

It doesn't have to come on a stick to be good

Some Mo' Better Skewers

Hey, Don't Touch My Corns

Gotta Love Skin & Tongue

All in all, despite the slow service and a couple of misses on a few of their items, Koshiji is a welcome addition to my Little Tokyo dining list. I liked that it was chill, and the awesome company made it that much more fun. Of course if I were Elaine Benes, I'd be forced to choose sides--hang with my OG LA foodbloggers or my newly found San Diego ones. But this isn't Seinfeld after all, and it's good to know that I can hang with both. In the same room. At the same Bizarro restaurant.

Restaurant Koshiji
123 S. Onizuka St. #203 (in Weller Court)
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 626-4989

Eating My Way Thinner: Hijiki Nimono

2007-05-07T21:35:00.000-07:00

It sucks trying to eat healthier.

Because suddenly, I don't want to snack on almonds or fruit. I want cookies and chips. I don't want to simple give my pan a small drizzling of olive oil. I want to brown my food in lots and lots of butter and then deglaze the hell out of it with lots and lots of wine. I don't want whole wheat bread. I want tortillas made with lard.

I struggled with many food ideas, looking at recipes from Cooking Light and other healthy eating sources. But the more of these types of recipes I thumbed through, the less appealing they all started to sound with their reduced fat mayo or skim milk substitutions. Not that that's all bad. It's just that sometimes, especially when you're willing to make a big change like this, you want the real deal.

Which is exactly why I went knocking on Japan's culinary door for diet inspiration. I've always admired that Japanese cuisine in its truest form can be so absolutely interesting in taste, texture and presentation without being drowned in huge portions or a ton of oil and fat. I figure that it's better to satisfy myself via sensory overload than by stuffing myself, right?

Unfortunately, this eating-more-Japanese-food-business would have to exclude some of my favorite deep fried Japanese goodies such as menchi katsu, kabocha korokke, chicken karaage and kaki furai. (I'll save those for an occasional weekend treat) But with the huge variety of other healthy foods available, I think I'll be OK.

I always look forward to getting little mounds of hijiki nimono, or simmered hijiki seaweed, either at Japanese restaurants or at the prepared foods section of Mitsuwa market, so I thought, "Why not make this myself?" With a little help from Kimiko Barber's The Japanese Kitchen (a really informative book with gorgeous photos, by the way) I was one step closer to a tasty meal and a healthier physique.

Unless you've tried it yourself, it's hard to get an accurate picture of how hijiki nimono actually tastes but I'll try my best. Texture-wise, the black strips of hijiki are not nearly as thin or slippery as wakame seaweed; I think that they almost have the texture of simmered or steamed carrots with a slightly different bite, which is quite interesting given that there are shredded carrots partying right alongside the hijiki in this dish. Taste-wise, it's a little bitter-sweet, and compliments the saltiness of the soy sauce and the sweetness of the sugar and mirin that it soaks up during the cooking process very nicely. All the ingredients used in this recipe can easily be found at any Japanese or Asian market.

Hijiki Nimino
(adapted from Kimiko Barber's The Japanese Kitchen)

1 oz. dry hijiki seaweed
1 sheet aburage (deep fried tofu)
1/2 cup shredded carrot
3/4 cup konbu dashi (vegetarian kelp broth-see recipe below) OR water if you're short on time
4 tbsp soy sauce
3 tbsp. sugar
2 tbsp. mirin

-Soak the hijiki in hot water for about half hour then drain.
-Put the aburage in a strainer & pour boiling water over it to remove the oil and cut into shreds.
-Put the reconsituted hijiki, tofu shreds & carrots in a pot. Add the konbu dashi or water, soy sauce, sugar and mirin.
-Cook on low heat until all the liquid is absorbed.

Konbu Dashi (Vegetarian Kelp Broth)
1 postcard sized piece of dried konbu (kelp)
4 cups water

-Make a few tears in the konbu and soak it in the water for a several hours. That's it.

I enjoyed this delicious hijiki nimono sprinkled with a pinch of toasted sesame seeds and a little steamed rice and edamame on the side. As opposed to many of my gluttonous meals, there was no bloating afterwards, making this particular meal that much better.

Note: The United Kingdom, Canada, Hong Kong and New Zealand have all issued warnings that traces of inorganic arsenic have been found in hijiki. I'm not sure what to make of this since anything with the word "arsenic" in it is due to sound kinda unappetizing, if ya know what I mean. But I figure that a little hijiki here and there won't hurt since this type of seaweed, until recently, has always been touted for its health benefits and since Japanese people, who by the way are known for their longevity, have had hijiki in their diets for years. As with any food, moderation and variety are key. If you're curious about this whole inorganic arsenic schtick though, you can read about it here, here, here, or here.

Does "Quarterly Gluttony" Have The Same Ring?

2007-05-06T07:17:00.000-07:00

Look at me, I'm all growed up now.

I was just a wee caterpillar, but over the last three months, I wanted so badly to turn into a butterfly.

Only I would have turned into an old, fat, poor butterfly real soon if I didn't watch it. Because in the last three months:

Number One: The Gluttony Family, including our very dear gastro-gnome George, moved into our new home in Alhambra. Being a homeowner is great; not being able to spend as much on food as we did in our renting days is not.

Number Two: I've gained weight.

There, I said it.

Not a ton, maybe somewhere in the vicinity of 5-7 pounds. Enough to make my jeans feel really snug and enough to make me thankful that the babydoll and tunic trend is back in full force.

I am therefore officially on a budget and a diet. I don't really have a set plan; I don't believe in gimmick diets where you're suddenly not allowed to eat any one form of food (Cut all bananas from your diet and lose ten pounds in as little as three weeks!) so I'm relying on the tried and true method of eat less and exercise more, while at the same time treating myself to new restaurants or full-on calorie-packed recipes on the weekend so that I don't shrivel up and die. As things start to settle down and as I have a little more time to dedicate to blogging (with emphasis on the word little--I'm still really busy you know), I'm hoping that you'll follow me on my spending-less-while-eating-healthier path.

If not you can fuck off.

See you soon.

The Gift Of Grub (Or, Better Late Than Never): Providence, Los Angeles

2007-02-07T22:08:00.000-08:00

(Yes, I know that i haven't written anything in awhile and that this post is taking place nearly two months after Christmas. I've been busy, so if you have a problem with that, go home. If not, read on...)

Christmas is quite lame in my household.

That is, until this year.

Because when asked by my husband what I wanted for Christmas this year, I responded not with a material object to be opened at a rather anti-climactic gift exchange, but rather with "I want to do the tasting menu at Providence." Still pretty anti-climactic since I knew in advance what I was getting, but so much better than Isaac hunting around for a pair of True Religion Bobby's in Rigid Whiskey Creek in a size 27 and then me squealing Oh Baby, thank you!!! I totally wanted these!!! *smooooooooch* as I finish unwrapping the gift that I asked for in the first place. I can buy the jeans myself, thank you. But dinner at one of L.A.'s most highly acclaimed restaurants? Now that's not as easy to pick up at the mall on a Saturday afternoon, is it?

I got to "open" my gift on a Saturday night at 6:30 pm. It was located on Melrose in the old Patina space and wrapped up in shades of off-white, khaki, and dark brown, all tied together with orangey-red accents. I looked up as we were lead to our table that was located along a wall lined with one long off-white leather banquette; small white disks that either were or resembled shells seemed to dance up the corner of the wall and up the ceiling toward the graceful curves of softly glowing light fixtures. Beaded candleholders in the likeness of sea anemones gave each table some elegant mood lighting in shades of red, orange and gold. The restaurant's decor projects a calm coastal vibe, reminding one of chef Michael Cimarusti's seafood creations, without trying too hard either. Based on what we've experienced with other restaurants around town, we expected the service to be more on the pretentious, fake-accent side, but were pleasantly surprised that everyone at our service that night--from the maitre'd to our server to the sommelier--were attentive and knowledgeable, yet laid-back at the same time.

Then one by one, my Christmas gifts arrived:

An amuse-bouche consisting of a miniature glass mug of a cool and foamy fennel soup and a gelatinous saffron petit-four the size of a sugar cube helped to awaken our palates prior to our feast.

Course No. 1: Japanese Kanpachi with celery, satsuma tangerine, and American caviar. The cool and refreshing properties of the slightly foamy cucumber broth and satsuma wedges actually enhanced the ultra-tender fleshy texture of the thinly sliced kanpachi. Little black pearls of American caviar gave each bite a tiny burst of briny flavor.

Course No. 2: Jumbo Blue Lump Crab with Truffle, Fresh Egg Sabayon, and Aromatics and Course No. 3: Parsnip Soup with Sweetbreads, Maine Lobster, and Truffle Fondue. These two courses were probably my favorite courses of the evening. And it wasn't because of the meat factor, although I must say, the lump blue crab and lobster & sweetbreads were excellent. Rather, the stars of the show in these two courses were the liquids, one being an egg sabayon with wonderfully earthy black truffle undertones and the other being a naughty little parmesan and parsnip soup. As each liquid swished lightly between my upper palate and tongue, they evoked feelings of sensuality, of happiness and of comfort, their aromas making me glad that our senses of smell and taste are intertwined.

Course No. 4: Japanese Freshwater Eel with Crushed Potato Pancake, Truffle and Quail Egg. Because of too many bad, overly sauced sushi preparations, I'm not usually a big fan of the eel, but when prepared right, I absolutely love it. In this particular preparation, a small chunk of Japanese freshwater eel sat atop a potato pancake whose crispiness, along with the frilliness of a piece of frisee and the velvety goodness of a quail egg, complimented the striated flesh of the eel perfectly.

Course No. 5: Dorade Royale with Bacon, Lamb's Quarter, Cinnamon, and Sauce Vin Rouge. I'd never heard of the fish in Course #5, which with the word "Royale" attached to it, sounded either very regal or like a French translation of McDonald's Quarter Pounder (a la Pulp Fiction). Whatever the case, this ultra fresh white-fleshed sea bream was cooked to form a perfectly seared outer crust. As for its accoutrements, the lamb's quarter tasted like spinach to me, and the carrots, cauliflower and bacon chunks seemed more obligatory than necessary although the cinnamon foam which garnished the plate did provide an interesting spicy/sweet element to the dish.

Course No. 6: New Zealand King Salmon with Morroccan Squash, Duck Confit, Baby Red Kale and Chantarelle Mushrooms. I have to admit that as much as I was loving this dinner, that I was in need of a little substance at this point, which is why I was so grateful for this course and Course #5. The New Zealand King Salmon was as fresh as could be and the duck confit and chantarelles added a hearty touch. But the star of this show was the "wall" of paper thin salmon skin that stood tall behind the two pieces of salmon. It was crisp. It was salty. It was good. Someone should fry some more of those bad boys up and package it as a product just like potato chips. I'd buy it for sure.

Course No. 7: Market Cheeses. One reason we opted for the nine-course tasting menu instead of the five is because the five-course menu does not include the cheese course and I just had to have the cheese course. Now I can't remember the names of the cheeses for the life of me, nor can I remember which countries they came from; all I can tell you is that there was one goat's milk cheese, one sheep's milk cheese and one cow's milk cheese and as my friend Sam put it once, "I died and went to cheese heaven." Good gawd, I mean, the goat's milk cheese alone was so fucking good that made me wanna go out and do bad stuff, like not bad-bad stuff but good-bad stuff and that says alot about one cheese, right?

Course No. 8: Mojito Sorbet with Avocado-Banana Puree. The ultra-refreshing mojito sorbet sitting atop a very calm, cool, and collected avocado-banana puree, in just four words, was The Perfect Palate Cleanser.

Course No. 9: Chocolate Cremeaux with Blood Orange Curd and Basil Meringue. Hmm, chocolate, basil, and orange--whodathunkit? Apparently, these guys did, and the combination of the silky-smooth rich chocolate cream canelle, a slightly spicy basil meringue and a tart blood orange curd really worked.

And as if nine courses plus an amuse-bouche of pure degustation was not enough, the kind people at Providence gave us a bonus treat of homemade candies to feast our senses on: red, sugar coated cubes of some sort of fruit jelly, peanut butter cups with sea salt (move over Reese's) and the softest, most luscious caramels I'd ever tasted.

With two glasses each of a fruity white Bourgogne from Maison Lerox and a '98 Chambolle-Musigny from Regnard, my gift came out to a little over three Benjamins after tax and tip. OK, maybe a little more than any pair of designer jeans I would have asked for, but a better Christmas gift in more ways than anyone could ever imagine.

Providence

5955 Melrose Ave.

Los Angeles, CA 90038

(323) 460-4170

www.providencela.com

New Kid On The (Writer's) Block: Santouka Ramen, West L.A.

2007-01-01T18:01:00.000-08:00

I hate when I get writer's block. It's like I have stuff to say, but the words aren't flowing, so I'll just get to the point.

I went to the newly-opened Santouka Ramen at the West L.A. Mitsuwa food court the other day.

I had the medium-sized shio ramen.

It was good.

I liked it alot.

That's all I have to say.

Santouka Ramen
(At the Mitsuwa Marketplace food court)
3760 Centinela Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90066

(To read Oishii Eats' wonderful review, which I guarantee to be much more descriptive than mine, go here.)

Chinese Comfort Food For The Nostalgic (And Homesick) Soul

2006-12-11T21:03:00.000-08:00

As I was growing up, school holidays meant watching cartoons and children's TV all morning, playing outside with the neighborhood kids all afternoon, and being allowed to stay up later than usual, perhaps to play video games on our Atari 2600 or watch television dramas like Dynasty even though I wasn't old enough to understand half of the grown-up themes on those shows. Staying home from school also meant home-cooked lunches by Mom, a nice break from sandwiches and school cafeteria food.

We were very lucky children, my brother and I, in that we had the best of both cooking worlds. My Dad liked to be a little more extravagant with his cooking as he cooked with bolder, richer flavors and ingredients and whipped up multiple dishes for each meal--two meats, a vegetable and a soup were the norm for dinner at our family's house. My Mom, however, is more of a simple cook who takes pride in her comforting, usually one-dish meals.

One of my favorite Mom foods to eat both growing up and in the present is something we call wui fahn in Cantonese, basically a stir fry of simple ingredients served over rice. Maybe it's homesickness, maybe it's stress, but I've been cooking alot of wui fahn lately--it's hearty, comforting, and incredibly simple to make.

The options of wui fahn toppings are wide open--you can pretty much use any type of meat and vegetable--the key is to make the stir fry a little more saucy than your average stir fry so that the gravy mixes with the rice. For this post, I'll show you how I make wui fahn with boy choy and chicken. Some other fave combos of mine include beef with Chinese long bean, pork with napa cabbage, and creamed corn (yes, creamed corn!) with chicken.

Check it out:

First make a pot of rice (long grain recommended).

Take some chicken thigh and cut it into thin pieces. Marinate with soy sauce, sesame oil, shaoxing cooking wine, sugar and a little cornstarch. Don't ask me how much because I couldn't tell ya--it's all trial and error.

Then prepare your vegetables. I like to cut the bok choy into thinner pieces, almost like a chiffonade but a little wider. It's really all personal preference however. Smash, but do not chop, one clove of garlic.

Make a mixture of a little water (half a cup, maybe?) and a teeny bit of cornstarch and set aside.

Heat a wok and add oil. When the oil is hot, add the chicken and the garlic clove. Stir fry the chicken in the wok until the chicken is cooked. Remove chicken from wok and set aside.

Add bok choy into wok and cook until tender. Scoot all of the bok choy onto the sides of the wok, forming a little well in the middle and add the water and cornstarch mixture. Stir to get some of those tasty browned bits into the liquid. When the liquid starts to simmer & thicken, add the chicken back into the wok, stirring together with the bok choy and cooking for just a couple more minutes until the bok choy, chicken and sauce have all had a chance to mingle. Spoon mixture over rice and dig in.

Because I would give anything to be on school holiday again, I like to eat my wui fahn in original old school kid style--with a spoon. There's just something about eating warm, tasty rice with a spoon that makes you feel like life is simple again.

Beer Goggle Cuisine: Hodori, Koreatown

2006-12-09T23:11:00.000-08:00

There are some types of restaurants that leave more of a stink factor on your clothing than others, Korean restaurants being one of them. It made sense, therefore, that because we were going with our friend to the Russell Peters show at the Wiltern in Koreatown, we would try our best to avoid restaurants having too much smoky cooking odor in the air. Not that we were sitting close enough to the comedian, best known for his hilarious imitations of various ethnic groups, to be called out for letting off too much stank, but we'd still have our reputations to uphold with hundreds of other audience members sitting around us.

I remembered that whenever we'd gone to Hodori, a popular late night Korean "fast-food" restaurant, with friends after hitting the bars, we never came out too smoky since everything's cooked in the back. And it was quick and cheap. So to the minimall on the corner of Vermont and Olympic it was.

It was weird to pre-party at Hodori, as I'm used to seeing the place bustling with tables of dressed-to-the-nines clubgoers in search of some cheap nourishment to soak up the over-inebriation in their bloodstreams. Instead, the place was only about an eighth full and pretty quiet when we arrived at 6pm, most of the customers being older Korean couples.

As excited as we were for our panchan to come to the table, we couldn't help but turn all of our attention to the "Stress Reduction Kit: Bang Head Here" sign (an image all of us have received in many an email forward) printed on the back of our waitress's t-shirt. But the bizarre mental images of people actually doing slamming their heads on the waitresses' backs soon turned into full attention towards the little plates of Korean amuse-bouches in front of us. The panchan--an on-the-limp side baechu (napa cabbage) kimchi, a decent kkak-duki (radish kimchi), refreshing bean sprouts, that bland-but-surprisingly addicting plain gelatin with soy sauce dish I've never known the name of, and a hearty Korean-style potato salad--was not anywhere near as plentiful as what we're used to in other Korean restaurants and not excellent, but nevertheless welcomed as we were starving. All of this was washed down with ice cold water served in steel bowls, the cool metal making the drink seem that much more refreshing.

when you can count the panchan on one hand, it's not enough

the widest "cup" i've ever seen

I ordered their kalbi dot sot bibim bap, a dish of rice, egg, vegetables such as marinated daikon, squash, carrots and bean sprouts, and pieces of kalbi short ribs sizzling in a stone pot. No matter where you go, any bibim bap order will come with gochujang, or Korean red pepper paste, inside a red squeeze bottle of what people not in the Korean know would mistake for ketchup. After squeezing a bajillion concentric circles of the deep red-colored sauce into the bowl and mixing all the ingredients together with my spoon, I was ready to dig in. Hodori's version was just allright, with a good amount of beef and vegetables, but lacked the right amount of smoky crispiness I love in a dol sot bibim bap. Somehow, I remember this dish, with its heat from temperature as well as from the gochujang, tasting alot better after a night of drinking.

kalbi dol sot bibim bap, aka alcohol sponge

The same was thought of the bulgogi, Korean BBQ'd beef, and the dak bulgogi, BBQ'd chicken, that Isaac and our friend ordered. The meats, usually full of smoky garlicky flavor when grilled tableside, arrived on sizzling plates looking and tasting quite bland. Another couple of dishes that usually taste a thousand times better post-bar or club.

no stanky clothes=bland korean bbq

beer goggles would make this bulgogi better

Outstanding Korean cuisine is not Hodori's strongpoint, that's for sure. But it's not like they don't have a niche in the Koreatown restaurant market as a late night attraction for those with a blood alcohol level at least a tenth or even to those still giddy with excitement from dancing, a fun night out with friends, or a laugh out loud comedy show in our case. The Happy Horomones are already there--good food is just secondary at that point, right? With its round-the-clock hours and healthy portions, Hodori is just a great place for them to settle down before going home. And you'll stink more of alcohol and cigarette smoke than you will of cooking fumes.

Hodori Restaurant
1001 S Vermont Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90006
(213) 383-3554

For dessert, I'm throwing this clip in to give you an idea of the comedy that gave us our Happy Horomones that night. Take a peek:

Getting It Done: Tacos Baja Ensenada, East L.A.

2006-12-01T22:50:00.000-08:00

Being as much of a scatterbrain multitasker as I am, I pretty much rely on the To-Do List to organize everything that's going on in my life, both professionally and personally. For example, my pre-weekend planning routine always consists of a list, jotted down in the little notebook that I always keep in my purse, that somehow never deviates much from the following:

1. Go to Trader Joes
2. Go to 99 Ranch
3. Go to California Market
4. Go to Target
5. Go to Costco
6. Clean
7. Do laundry
8. Figure out what to eat

And then within each of those tasks lies a sublist of things I need to get or do. You get the picture. Pretty boring, huh?

So it comes as no surprise then, that when I recently gave notice with my old employer, I made a list of things I had to get done before never again setting foot in that cubicle rat maze located smack dab in the middle of the industrial wasteland better known as Commerce.

THINGS I NEED TO DO BEFORE I BLOW THIS JOINT:

1. Clean out desk
2. Check for and delete any personal files on hard drive
3. Get contact info for people that I actually care to keep in contact with
4. Review final paycheck and be sure they did not short change me on any vacation payout
5. Make any final purchases using employee discount
6. Leave folder full of blank TPS reports in drawer as a surprise for my replacement, whoever he/she is
7. Go to Tacos Baja Ensenada

There haven't been all that many eateries that were on my Absolutely-Need-To-Try-While- Working-In-Commerce list; in fact, most of them were in Monterey Park, an area which, albeit close to Commerce, is an area I go to often and is not considered a city that I wouldn't really have reason to visit except to go to the Le Creuset outlet at the Citadel. Tacos Baja Ensenada in nearby East L.A., however, was an obvious exception. With only five days to go, I made it a point to cross this task off my Exit To-Do list no matter what it took. I checked Outlook to pick a day in which I had no torturously close-to-lunchtime meetings scheduled, hopped in the car by myself (yes, I'm an old pro at that now) with a Google Maps printout in hand, and went towards Whittier Blvd. in search of what are considered the best Baja-style tacos in L.A.

With its bright lime green exterior, Tacos Baja Ensenada is not hard to spot at all. Arriving before the lunch rush, I was lucky to not have to wait in line to order and snag one of the tiled tables in TBE's long, spare, but bright and clean interior. As I waited for my tacos, I helped myself to condiments at the restaurant's colorful condiment bar: lime wedges, sliced radishes, and a couple of peppers that drew me in with their cool color scheme of chartreuse speckled with reddish-orange. I watched as one of the restaurant's employees selected and scooped fresh seafood from a small counter bar to make freshly prepared ceviche and cocteles--apparently popular menu items at TBE--and made a mental note that I must try one of these the next time I come out this way.

skittles has nothing on these guys...just look at all those colors!

seems like it's always happy at this ceviche bar

This time, I stuck with what TBE is best known for...two Baja-style fish tacos and a shrimp taco were just fine for my lunchtime appetite that day. Upon first bite into a taco, I could already see why people love this place. In fact, let's go back to what I preach is my main criteria for judging a good taco. No, it's not that it just tastes good. It's that a good taco has to be a team effort of all its parts, and TBE certainly trains its team members well. You've got the battered fried fish which is fried to the perfect golden brown and that somehow remains crispy, even when paired with the taco's wet ingredients: the perfect amount (meaning not so little that it's almost dry and not so much that it's dripping) of refreshing, slightly tangy crema, and juicy diced tomatoes. Shredded cabbage adds another angle of cool and crisp, and finally, a couple of warm fluffy corn tortillas wrap the whole thing up into a coherent package. The entire experience is a team effort of different flavors and textures--no fighting, no disagreement--now isn't that nice? The shrimp taco was a little different in that the fried popcorn-style shrimp added a bit more of a crunchy dimension to the taco, but was the same in that these taco parts also worked in perfect harmony with each other. The condiments that I'd picked up were also highly complimentary to the cause--a few squirts of lime juice are essential on any fish taco, sliced radishes add even more refreshing crunch, and eaten in moderation, the vinegary peppers were spicy enough to clear my sinuses, but not so much that they overpowered the meal. Too bad I had to go back to work, because a cold beer would have been the only other thing needed to make this meal perfect. Oh man.

there is no "i" in team, nor in TBE

DG picked a pack of pickled...

As I was inside TBE, a car happened to careen into a fire hydrant and cause quite a bit of a disruption and traffic getting out of the restaurant's parking lot and back onto the main street.

Normally, I would have started to stress out a little over getting back to the office late, but I would be leaving in just a couple days. I therefore added #8 to my Last-Days-At-The-Office To-Do List:

8. Saunter back into the office late without a care in the world...your days are numbered and your belly is happy and full, so who cares?

Tacos Baja Ensenada
5385 Whittier Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90022
(323) 887-1980
www.tacosbaja.com

Pinkberry, a.k.a. D.I.N.K.berry

2006-11-29T20:46:00.000-08:00

melrose & la brea is pretty dink-y, wouldn't you say?

Having finally tried the goods at the overly-hyped frozen yogurt chain, I have to admit that I found the yogurt, having a more sorbet-like icy texture than a rich, creamy one, very refreshing. Paired with some diced strawberries and pineapple as well as some fruity pebbles for some color and crunch, it was the perfect cool-me-down snack on an unseasonably hot November afternoon.

i like how they covered up the "pink" with the $4.95 price sticker

But at an average of five bucks a pop per person for frozen yogurt (because trust me that I finished a medium with three toppings by myself), my husband and I would have to remain D.I.N.K.'s for the rest of our lives (that's Duel Income No Kids for those of you not in the know) if we were to continue fueling any sort of Pinkberry habit.

D.I.N.K.berry, indeed.

D.I.N.K.berry, I mean, Pinkberry
in a DINK-y neighborhood near you
www.pinkberry.com

What The Fuck Is A "Tuffet"?

2006-11-28T20:18:00.000-08:00

(image courtesy of www.seriesadictos.com)

Little Ms. Glutton
Wasn't doing nuthin'
But eating her curds and whey
Along came an offer
That came up beside her
And took Ms. Glutton away

Oh, but what does this all mean, DG???

It means that Daily Gluttony got a new job, silly. Why? Because quite frankly, curds and whey suck.

I apologize for the sluggish posting and for the fact that it's taken me months to tell you about a two week trip to Hawaii (and I'm still not done yet). Shame on me, but you have to understand that the commute from Downtown L.A. to Orange County is taking up alot of my time.

Orange County????

I'll leave you with that for now. See you soon with new posts.

Maui, Part 5, The Final Chapter: A Mixed Plate, A Mix Up, And Mixed Feelings--Aloha Mixed Plate

2006-11-21T22:04:00.000-08:00

The first time we went to Lahaina's Aloha Mixed Plate was on purpose. Having heard that this restaurant, an offshoot of the Old Lahaina Luau, was one of the best bangs for your buck in Maui, Isaac and I headed down the overly commercialized, Crazy Shirts- and ABC Stores-laden Front Street to have dinner.

The restaurant is basically a huge wood deck facing the ocean in back of a small, shack-like house. Sit in the part of the deck right next to the water and you can eat your meal prohibition-style with no alcoholic beverages at all; sit in the back part of the deck closest to the shack and you can lush it up. We chose the part of the deck closest to the shack for obvious reasons, and though we weren't in that section where we were right up on the ocean's ass, the view and sound of the water were no less spectacular. We could also hear the music from the Old Lahaina Luau next door, which though somewhat overpowering at times, was nice in that we got a little entertainment without actually paying for entertainment.

sit right up here....

...and you can't have this

My Hawaiian Plate was basically just a kalua pig plate with the usual two scoop rice and mac salad plus some added acoutrements of poi and lomi lomi salmon. I don't know if you know this about me, but I have a thing for boiled/braised cabbage, so to be honest, I think the reason I liked the kalua pig so much that night wasn't so much because of the pork itself but more so because of the ample amounts of cabbage it was cooked with. Take that and the fact that I hadn't had much in the way of vegetables over the several days we'd stayed in Maui, so my withdrawals for greens were making me gobble that kalua pig up. As for the pork itself, there were tasty patches that had moist little slivers of nicely browned pork laced with luscious pork fat which I love on kalua pork; at the same time there were dry and bland patches which I made sure to eat with cabbage shreds to make them more palatable. The rice and mac salad served their purpose in making the whole thing stick to my ribs more and I hardly touched the little condiment cups filled with lomi lomi salmon and poi. I had a little taste of the lomi lomi salmon, and let's just say that it did not smell or taste fresh and as for the poi, well, I've always thought it was pointlessly tangy, so I left it alone.

had they had a plain cabbage plate, i'd have ordered that

what's the poi-pose?

Isaac's grilled mahi mahi was, as all the mahi mahi we'd eaten on the island, very nicely done. The piece of fish was moist, flaky and grilled so that it had a nice tasty charred exterior. There seemed to be two kinds of mahi plates available at Aloha Mixed Plate, one that is served in typical plate lunch format with two scoop rice and mac salad and another that is served in typical American grill format with fries and cole slaw. Though we'd pointed to the one in plate lunch format, there was a little mix up and the fish came out with the wrong starch & salad combo; the mistake was fixed right away however and Isaac was happy once again with rice in his belly.

not quite the mix up i'm referring to

That, however, is not the mix up that I'm refering to in my post's title. The second time we went to Aloha Mixed Plate was by accident, or more specifically, because we happened to get lost in Maui. Now you're probably wondering, "How the hell does one get lost in Maui??? Isn't it all just one road that goes all the way around the island?" OK, OK, so maybe we didn't get lost in the sense that we wouldn't have eventually found our way back, but rather we were lost in the sense that for about an hour, we didn't know where the fuck we were.

On our last night in Maui, we'd originally planned to have dinner at the Paia Fish Market, which according to some of our friends and some locals we'd talked to, had fish that was just as fresh if not fresher than that at Mama's Fish House, but served in a not-so-tourist-attractiony-atmosphere and at a fraction of the price. Having left all of the good Maui maps and books at the hotel, the only map we had in the rental car was some simple line map inside a cheesy Maui tourist brochure we'd picked up either on the street or in our hotel lobby. And stupid tourists that we were, decided that it'd be a good idea to take the northwestern route from Ka'anapali past Kapalua to Paia since we had yet to see that side of Maui.

"Hmm, according to this here map in this here brochure, it looks like the same distance to Paia as our usual route"

So at about 5pm, we got into the Buick and drove north on Highway 30, instead of the usual drive south and back onto northbound Highway 380 route. It's true what they say about how no one part of Maui is the same--this northwestern part was a bit more rocky than other parts of Maui we'd been to and the unusual rock formations provided an interesting backdrop to the gorgeous ocean that surrounded us. For about an hour, we drove and drove on this windy mountain highway and at first, were awed by all the beautiful scenery until we realized that there were no signs telling us where we were in relation to our destination, that the sun was starting to set and that we only had a quarter tank of gas left.

"Hmm, I wonder when this windy road will end..."

"How much longer do you think?"

The stupid newlywed tourists (a.k.a. us) were optimistic though, and kept driving in hopes that they'd have to eventually get there, and kept driving until the two lane windy highway turned into a narrow one lane road.

"Uh, I don't think we should be on here."

"Do you think we should turn around?"

(Yeah, you think?)

Fortunately, there was a fruit stand on the side of the road that was still open and I got out and asked the very bored looking teenage girl where we were and how much longer to Paia. Not even looking up at me, she said that we were in a town called Kahakuloa and that it was at least another hour and a half drive to get to Paia.

Ah, fuck.

We had to drive further down in order to find a place to turn the Buick around, and after we finally turned the car around, drove about one mile per hour in silence, shitting bricks and praying that no one would be coming the other way on this narrow, windy one lane road that by the way, is located on the side of a mountain. Don't forget that it was getting dark very fast.

And just as we thought we had cleared death when the highway turned into a two-lane road again, things started to get really eerie as what we like to call the "Maui Hick"--a man who we could tell was missing teeth even at the speed he was driving--came speeding towards us in some kind of golf cart looking vehicle and chasing after him, a pack of rotweilers. It doesn't end there because a little further up, we encountered a pack of donkeys that had taken the liberty to just chill on the road. The combination of our headlights, the twilight lighting, and the somewhat evil stare of donkeys made the entire experience feel like something out of The Omen. Imagine the joy we felt when we finally saw the lights of Kapalua from a distance. Yeah, yeah, I know you're probably thinking "Where is your sense of adventure, DG?" I'll tell you where it was--we left it L.A.

After that surreal experience (and no I was not exagerrating any part of that) we didn't have it in us to go around searching for a place to eat so back to Aloha Mixed Plate it was. This time around, I ordered the kalbi plate which wasn't very good as the sauce on the kalbi ribs was way to sweet as well as way too sticky and abundant. Isaac ordered the shoyu chicken (sorry, no picture) which was good but nothing special--just teriyaki chicken, basically. The lackluster food didn't stop us from being happy that night though; sometimes there is comfort in the safe and familiar.

far from k-town kalbi

All in all, I had mixed feelings about Aloha Mixed Plate. On the downside, the food was mediocre to decent at best; on the upside, you really can't beat the price (about $25 for two entrees and two cocktails--cheap by Maui standards) and the prime location right on the water. It was also there for us in a time of distress, which is always allright by us.

Aloha Mixed Plate
1285 Front Street
Lahaina, HI 96761
(808) 661-3322

To see Kirk of mmm-yoso!!!'s review, click here.

Well boys and girls, that concludes my recap of our Maui trip--it's about fuckin' time, don't ya think? Don't forget that I still have Oahu to write about (yeah, you thought you were off the hook, didn't you?), but at the rate I'm going, it'll be July before I finish my Hawaii series. Because I'm nice, I'll give all y'all a short break from the Hawaii posts and do a couple of LA-based posts in the interim. Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!

Maui, Part 4, Section C: Don't Forget The Little Guy, A Tale Of Two Islands--Mama Ding's Pasteles

2006-11-14T21:51:00.000-08:00

Despite being in the middle of a completely different ocean, just the mere fact of being on a land mass surrounded entirely by water was making my hubby Isaac a wee bit homesick for Puerto Rico. Of course it didn't help the poor guy that the muggy climate was making our clothes stick to us, that we were driving on narrow two lane roads amidst hills covered in lush vegetation, and that the facades of local buildings had blackened over years of basking in humidity...just like in his native island.

I could tell that my better half had been missing home from the moment we got off the plane what with all the comments about how things he'd been observing on Maui struck a striking resemblance to people, places and things in Puerto Rico. Or was it perhaps that he could feel the presence of his peeps? According to something our wedding photographer told us, maybe there was a droplet of validation to why he'd been yearning so much...apparently, Puerto Rican communities, however small, have sprung up through the decades to work in Maui's sugar industry. He also told us that there was indeed a Puerto Rican restaurant called Mama Ding's Pasteles right over in Kahului.

You can bet that once we got back to the hotel, we made a beeline for the Yellow Pages. We called the restaurant to check their hours and got a recording that the restaurant had been closed for a few weeks but that it would reopen the day before Isaac and I were scheduled to leave the island. Lucky us.

With their address scrawled on a slip of hotel stationery, we drove past warehouses, carpet showrooms, and trucking facilities in a very industrial section of Kahului looking for Mama Ding's when suddenly, we saw its small pink facade sanwiched in between a couple of much larger warehouses. The words "Puerto Rican Special" were painted on the window and when we walked in, a huge Puerto Rican flag mounted to the restaurant's wall greeted us...we knew we were in the right place.

yep, this is the place

Service was extremely friendly from the moment we walked in, but at the same time, we could tell they were a little surprised that a couple of tourists had stopped in. Mama Ding's, a restaurant run by the Caravalho family since 1984, is far from your typical Maui tourist destination, and while Isaac and I aren't the stereotypical tourists donning loud aloha shirts and fanny packs, we don't look like your typical locals either. Nevertheless, the folks at Mama Ding's made us feel like we'd been customers for years. While Isaac was in the back using the restroom, I started shootin' the shit with the young woman behind the counter, part of which included me telling her how we just got married a few days ago and how Isaac was from Puerto Rico and how our photographer told us about this place. To which she responded not by answering to me but rather by excitedly announcing our story to the two gentlemen who were sitting at a nearby table: "Hey, guess what? These guys were just married here and their photographer told them about Mama Ding's! Her husband is from Puerto Rico!!!" To which they responded with "Oh yeah? Allright!" and "Congratulations!" and several questions to Isaac regarding whether or not he spoke Spanish, what part of Puerto Rico he came from and so on and so forth.

Like all other Hawaiian local joints, Mama Ding's serves local-style breakfasts--choices of meats such as Portuguese sausage, Vienna sausages or Spam served with eggs and rice--as well as various plate lunches, saimin, fried rice and sandwiches. What is a little more unusual for your typical Hawaiian eatery, however, is the addition of a few Puerto Rican specialties to the mix. There is a Puerto Rican Breakfast, which like the other breakfasts, gives you a choice of meat with two eggs any style, but is served instead with gandule rice and a pastel, which I'll get into later. There is also an Habichuela Plate, consisting of a Puerto Rican red bean stew served with rice and salad. We went right for the restaurant's most popular menu item and what we came here for--the Puerto Rican Plate.

One of the questions I am most frequently asked about Puerto Rico is "So what is Puerto Rican food like?" And everytime I'm asked, I don't really know how to answer. Living in L.A. where the Puerto Rican restaurant pickings are slim to none, and not having visited Puerto Rico yet, I haven't had much exposure to Puerto Rican food. (And no, Isaac doesn't really cook--or I don't let him, I should say--so I haven't tried Puerto Rican cuisine via that avenue either) I've pretty much only had real Puerto Rican food once when Isaac's grandmother came to visit and cooked for us, and delicious as it was, it was only one meal so I still couldn't come to a conclusion as to what the exact characteristics of Puerto Rican cooking are. Pre-blogging days, we found a place down in Cypress called Senor Big Ed's that serves both Puerto Rican and Mexican food, and both Isaac and I thought it was *eh* not just by Puerto Rican standards but by regular food standards, so that experience basically does not count. I know that there are alot of fried, roasted and stewed meats. I know that rice and beans are served with just about every meal. From what Isaac tells me, I know that Puerto Rican cuisine is spicy, not in a habanero chile kind of way, but rather in a heavily spiced and seasoned kind of way. Which is why on the rare occasions that Isaac cooks, he adds every spice and seasoning in the spice cabinet to the dish making it turn a deep shade of orangey-reddish brown every single time. So yeah, although Mama Ding's didn't have a full menu of Puerto Rican specialties, I was glad that I had yet another chance to sample Puerto Rican cuisine, even if only a couple of items.

I've had pasteles only once or twice before, but to me, they still seem like an old friend. We Chinese have something similar in our cuisine called "joong," in which sticky rice filled with savory meat and other fillings is wrapped in a bamboo leaf and boiled; I've been familiar with Mexican and Cuban tamales for a while now. Pasteles are made in a similar fashion to its cross cultural cousins in that tender pork and green olives are surrounded by a masa made with green bananas, wrapped in a banana leaf and boiled. It always amazes me that the people of our cultures, while being so distant and different from from one another, still manage to come up with similar food preparations. Just goes to show that we're not so different after all--we all have the same needs to survive and feed our families, and hence the need to develop ways in which to do so.

Now I don't have many benchmarks by which to judge Mama Ding's pasteles, but I can say that they were excellent and that they have become a new benchmark by which to judge future pasteles. Its masa of green banana was moist and supple and had a nice mellowness to it which both complimented and enveloped the savory pork filling just enough so that the whole thing formed one nice tight bundle. At the same time, it wasn't so tight and dense that you couldn't put a fork through the damn thing.

isaac's homesickness on a plate

I don't think there is really a difference between an empanadilla and an empanada, so you just have to naturally like empanadillas because really, who doesn't like empanadas? Any fried meat filled treat that you can pick up and eat with your hands is a friend of mine, and the ones at Mama Ding's are no exception. The shell of our empanandillas had the texture and taste of perfectly browned pie crust and contained a nicely spiced shredded pork filling. I will admit, however, that I could taste a faint hint of cilantro or culantro (a cousin of the evil weed of death that is used frequently in Puerto Rican cooking or so I'm told) in a few bites, so I concentrated on those bites in which I couldn't detect any gag-inducing soapiness and all was good. All of this was served with a slice of chorizo sausage and arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas), a popular Puerto Rican rice preparation which I happen to really enjoy. It's one of those dishes that isn't so flavorful that it overpowers everything it's served with , but that tastes just slightly enough of achiote-infused oil that it makes you want more.

Our Puerto Rican Plates also came with a green salad, which would have otherwise been just your typical green salad had it not been for the addition of a little bacalao, or salted cod, and pineapple. Mama's Dings even throws in a canned peach half for dessert--something I've never been all too fond of, but that in this specific occasion, reminded me of stuff my own Grandmother might have done when cooking for us kids, and made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside because Mama Ding's is just that kind of place.

a little bacalao goes a long way

In the corner of the restaurant was a TV and VCR playing home videos of Puerto Rican vacations, and as we were finishing up our meals, one of the gentlemen who we'd spoken with earlier introduced himself to us. With eyes and ears on the TV watching and listening to the people and festive music, Frank Caravalho Jr., one of the family owners, and Isaac began reminiscing about the island they both love and miss. Frank Jr. even pulled a photo album of his family's last trip back to Puerto Rico from behind the counter for us to look at. I may not know much about Puerto Rican food yet, but one thing I do know for sure now is when there is so much pride and love for one's own culture, it will show in the food. I am sure, therefore, that as I get to try more and more of it, I won't be disappointed.

wait, i'm boriqua by association--do i count?

Sadly, Mama Ding's has since closed its doors. Frank Jr. continued to tell us that the restaurant would be closing in just a few weeks so that the Caravalho family could care for his father, Frank Sr., who had been suffering from a form of vascular dementia. This article from The Maui News implies that it's not clear whether the restaurant will be closed permanently or not but either way, I'm glad I was able to experience the care Mama Ding's gave to its food and its customers. The Caravalho's made us feel like we were guests in their home--and if you think about it, Mama Ding's represents home in many different ways to many different people. A warm mahalo goes out to the Caravalho family for the wonderful meal and hospitality--you are all in my thoughts and I wish you all the best.

Mama Ding's Pasteles
(I know it's closed but here's the info anyway)
255 E. Alamaha St.
Kahului, HI 96732
(808) 877-5796

Maui, Part 4, Section B: Don't Forget The Little Guy--Hitting Up Maui's Local Grindz

2006-11-06T21:04:00.000-08:00

(this is not my idea of good vacation food)

Allright, fuck seared ahi.

Fuck sauteed onaga.

Fuck $40 hotel breakfasts and crappy island style tacos.

'Cause let's be honest here. You don't go to Hawaii for just that.

Before I start to sound like a 2Pac song about food, I'll just say it. You go to Hawaii for the local food, my favorite being the plate lunch--you know, the usually bad-for-you-in-one-way-or-another meats served most always with two scoop rice and mac salad. The stuff that doesn't quite fall into any certain ethnic category as far as Japanese, Korean, or Chinese, but that for sure falls into the "hearty," "comforting" and "filling" categories. Hey, get money, take money, whatever. You gotta hit 'em up.

The first local joint we hit up in Maui was Hanafuda Saimin, located in the Azeka (Long's Drugs) shopping center in Kihei. Starving after a five hour flight from L.A. in which the stupid airline did not serve any food but rather charged us $4 for a shitty "snack pack" and $5 for an Asian chicken salad, we ran into this place while cruising down Kihei Rd. Two things caught our eye as we walked into this small storefront located next to a cheese shop that is named, funny enough, Who Cut The Cheese? One, there were two very large local construction workers sitting at one of the tables slurping up bowls of saimin--a good sign if I ever saw one. Second, the walls are plastered with dollar bills decorated by who I'm assuming are customers. Also nice because it gave us something to look at while waiting for our food.

dolla dolla bill y'all

We looked at the menu for a couple minutes, trying to decide from a variety of plate lunches consisting of everything from kalbi ribs to katsu to curry but in the end we both decided that some fried saimin would hit the spot. Hanafuda lets you pretty much add anything to your saimin, so Isaac and I opted to add some fried Spam and kimchee into the mix to kick things up a notch.

The huge plate was filled to the edge with noodles and came with a scoop of mac salad on the side. Their "noodles to ingredients ratio, " which seemed like a good 2:1, made sure that we didn't get too much noodles nor char siu, spam, kimchee and scallions with everybite. We also liked the nice chewy bite of the noodles. The one thing we didn't like, however, was that the dish was waaaaay too salty, but fortunately, the mellow creamyness of the mac salad and a few glasses of ice water helped to calm it down. We had to be careful to ration the mac salad so that we did not finish it before we finished the saimin, else we'd die of thirst. Despite the salty fried saimin, we thought Hanafuda Saimin was decent, and we'd give it another go the next time we're in South Maui; based on what we observed while we were in the restaurant, it seems as though the restaurant has a good local following since our waitress knew most of the customers by name. It also seemed as though the place makes a mean Korean Style Fried Chicken--a dish they had posted up on the dry-erase specials board--as we heard a couple of customers ask for it.

everything's better (but saltier!) with a little spam

Kihei Caffe (no, I am not tripping--they actually spell it with two "F"s) isn't really a traditional local plate lunch joint as much as it is a "regular" cafe that sells sandwiches, salads and burgers and a few local plate style breakfasts and lunches as well. We had Kihei Caffe's breakfast twice while we were in Maui actually; my brother had gone to pick breakfast up one morning and Isaac and I went on a separate occasion during our actual honeymoon. Sitting out on the huge lanai of our condo, my family members enjoyed a variety of Hawaiian style breakfasts such as Portuguese Sausage and Eggs, Loco Moco, Corned Beef Hash and Eggs, and Macadamia Nut Pancakes whilst enjoying the morning view of the Pacific. My Portuguese sausage and eggs breakfast hit the spot, with its slightly spicy sliced sausages, fluffy scrambled eggs, and perfectly browned fluffy biscuit. I was a little annoyed at my brother at first because I thought he'd had the good sense to get me rice instead of potatoes with my breakfast, but I later found out that only certain breakfasts come with rice (e.g. the corned beef hash) unless you ask for it. That, and the potatoes, done "homestyle," were delicious--soft on the inside but a little crispy on the outside, with some of the skins left on and a little onion to taste. I had a bite of my Mom's mac-nut pancakes which were nice and fluffy despite the fact that they'd gotten a little cold in transport. My brother's loco moco, however, despite a tasty gravy, was pretty disgusting with its rubbery hamburger patty. (Don't use the photo as a measure though--alot of it got smooshed in the car on the way back)

not so hawaiian, but still hit the spot

you'd have to be loco to like this loco moco

pillowy mac nut pancakes

This stereotypical "beach shack" eatery has a good following amongst locals and tourists alike as it was quite crowded with both before 9am on a weekday morning. The line was about 6 customers deep and almost going out the door, but service was efficient and friendly. After finding a table on their patio, our Spam & Eggs breakfast plates were soon brought out. I hate to say it, but I was really disappointed in this breakfast. The fried Spam was a little too undergrilled and the biscuit, which had been warm, fluffy and nicely browned on the cut side last time, was cold and crumbly this time around. Knowing that you have to ask to sub rice for potatoes, we asked for rice this time, but realized that we shouldn't have as it was just plain mushy. I hope that Kihei Caffe was just having an off day because I really liked their friendly neighborhood vibe--I mean, McDonald's Spam and Eggs Breakfast kicked this shit out of the water for heaven's sake--and judging from my very decent Portuguese Sausage breakfast a few days prior, it seemed like they were just having a bad day.

makes me wanna sing love shack & rock lobster

i wanted to like this spam-a-lot, but didn't

mc-better than mc-kihei caffe's that day

We'd been told by a couple of people to try this place for some good local grindz, so one afternoon before heading upcountry to the Haleakela Crater, Isaac and I hit up Da Kitchen in Kihei.

located in da' rainbow mall

This little mini-mall restaurant has more of your typical Hawaiian plate lunch style grub--teri beef & chicken, katsu, kalua pork, lau lau, saimin, even a chow fun dish they call "Won Fat Guy's Chow Fun"--and everything sounded so good that we experienced a slight case of analysis paralysis while scanning the menu. After standing there like idiots, staring at the menu board with our mouths half open in way that people could see the imaginary cartoon bubble over our heads that said "duh," and after a few "go ahead--we don't know what we want yet's" to other customers walking in after us, we finally decided on at least one thing to order.

"Uh yeah, could we have a..."

(Pause as I kept scanning the menu board)

"uhhhhh...a loco moco?"

The girl behind the counter wrote it down while we kept staring at the menu then looked back at us to let us know she was ready to take down our next item.

"And we'll also have a uh...wait...umm..."

The girl behind the counter seemed to know that we needed to be taken out of our misery: "You know, the loco moco is ALOT of food. You two could probably share it and it'd be enough."

And you know? She was right. The styrofoam box containing our loco moco, a dish I can only describe as a "heart attack on a plate" of hamburger steak and a fried egg over rice and smothered in rich gravy, was literally bursting at the seams and oozing with gravy. The hamburger steak, with its dense patty, had a nice charred beefy taste and was delicious. Mixed with the slightly crisp edges and runny yolk of the fried egg, it proved that protein and cholesterol were indeed good things. A bed of fluffy white rice was the perfect sponge to soak everything up. All was good--all, that is, except for the gravy, which we both thought was a little overkill. There was so much of it, first of all, that it seemed to form a moat of gravy around the egg and second of all, we didn't really care that it had so much onion and mushroom in it. The side of potato-mac salad was pretty damn good with the potato giving it a unique edge, but we would have prefered it not having been soaked in all that gravy. Other than the gravy overload, it was allright--at least our bellies were full to keep us warm for that afternoon's trek up to Maui's volcanic summit.

would you like some loco moco to go with your gravy?

not such a little guy, this one: the haleakela summit

Because we were tourists ourselves--it had been over 20 years since I'd been to Maui and it was Isaac's first time--we were a little restricted in both time and location by our vacation schedule, but had we had a little more time on the island, we definitely would have gone to some other local faves. Fuck that East Coast/West Coast shiznit--we're putting Sam Sato's, Honolua General Store, Honokowai Okazuya & Deli, and Kitada's just to name a few on our list of "Hit 'Em Up" joints for next time.

Stay tuned for Part 4, Section C when Isaac and I visit another little guy who's all about the island, but not necessarily this island.

Hanafuda Saimin
1279 S. Kihei Rd. #304 (located in the Azeka Shopping Center)
Kihei, HI 96753
(808) 879-9033

Kihei Caffe
1945 S. Kihei Rd.
Kihei, HI 96753
(808) 879-2230
www.kiheicaffe.com

Da Kitchen
2439 S. Kihei Rd.
Kihei, HI 96753
(808) 875-7782
www.da-kitchen.com

Maui, Part 4, Section A: Don't Forget The Little Guy--Tacos in Maui, WTF?

2006-11-04T07:40:00.000-08:00

next good/cheap food: at least 5 miles.

The good news is that you're basking in the throes of paradise. There is no work to do, your inbox is temporarily empty, your boss is not asking you for the seventh time to reformat your report because the CEO is blind. If you felt like you didn't want to move a muscle, you pretty much wouldn't have to, except for maybe a few quick squiggles of your hand to scrawl an illegible room number and signature for yet another mai tai. The sun's rays make you all warm and fuzzy inside, and on the outside, a a nice shade of glowing bronze.

The bad news is you're probably stuck in a tourist trap. Which for all the reasons I mentioned above isn't at all a bad thing. But when there are thousands of other people besides yourself on the island for those same exact reasons, restaurateurs are going to try and market to all of us suckers, I mean, tourists.

Fine dining with an ocean view!

Voted Best Restaurant Three Years In A Row! (as determined by Random-Maui-Tourist-Guide)

Award-winning chefs will prepare Maui's best seafood as you dine under the stars!

It's all a big to-do production, this tourist-destination restaurant business. Sometimes it's simply annoying, like when Isaac and I decided to not leave our resort one morning for the sake of relaxation and spent forty bucks on a shitty hotel omelette and generic pancakes. Sometimes the food's good, but still too expensive because you're paying not only for the food but for an experience--one that would mimick the Disneyland of Fresh Fish, if there ever was one. And sometimes, you get a good one, and it's just right.

hey--the pepper was free! the other stuff? not so much.

But what about the little guy? I mean, surely there's got to be stuff to eat outside of the grandiose resort, right? I'm talking places where there is mostlikely no view or ambiance whatsoever, where the food is maybe served on paper plates or where you can perhaps bus your own table...places that a few locals may even patronize. These were the kinds of places that my hubby and I were actually seeking out on our vacation over the big fancy restaurants, but because we were tourists ourselves, it was a little difficult knowing where all the good ones were (or at least having the time to get to the good ones) despite having done a little bit of research. There were some good ones, but there were certainly some not-so-good ones as you could already tell from our very un-extraordinary taco stand experience on the road to Hana.

Speaking of tacos, we were surprised that there seemed to be somewhat of an interest in them on the island. We knew in the back of our heads that finding good tacos in Maui would be somewhat akin to finding good sushi in the Midwest, yet our curiousity led us to try not only those heinous road to Hana tacos but also tacos from a popular Hawaiian taco chain, Maui Tacos. Just a hop, skip, and a jump from my family's condo rental in Kihei, Maui Tacos seemed like a convenient place for a bunch of us grumpy travellers and wedding preppers to grab a quick bite and also to see what all the hub-bub was over tacos on this island.

how do you say "baja fresh" in pidgen?

Despite the faint glimmer of hope that we'd be wowed by some unique Hawaiian-Mexican fusion flavors, we were--as expected--thoroughly unimpressed. My Baja Fresh-esque two taco combo plate was just allright, but I kind of almost wish it had been really bad, because then it'd been able to kill me quickly without me having to think too much. The combo of somewhat-tasty- steak-with-shredded-lettuce-and-cheese-overkill-on-lukewarm-tortillas-along-with-some-decent-yet-generic-beans-and-rice was so mediocre that it was almost as if someone were trying to kill me with a cookie-cutter. I will give these guys a "A" for service, however, since the guys behind the counter were nothing but smiles and "no problems" even though most of my family members couldn't make up their fucking minds on what to order and literally took up half of the tiny restaurant's space just standing there blankly staring at the menu board. Oh, and by the way, I just found out that Maui Tacos has franchised locations nationwide; meaning I coulda gotten some of this shit in Boise, Idaho if I wanted to.

acceptable by maui standards; not so acceptable by l.a. standards

But oh no--these weren't the last tacos we had in Maui. After a few hours of hanging out and playing around at Makena's beautiful Big Beach, we were completely famished, and it just so happened that the Jawz Tacos truck was sitting there right as we turned onto Makena Alanui Road. Now you and I both know that despite the taco truck facade, this conveniently located truck preys on hungry beachgoers like myself and is just as much of a tourist trap as any of the resort restaurants in neighboring Wailea. But as hungry as we were and as disheveled as we looked coming straight from the beach with damp clothing and sand sticking to our skin, this little wood-paneled taco truck on the side of the road was a much more logical choice than anything, say, at The Grand Wailea.

do you like my "please support the little guy" disguise?

We all know that on the whole, food in Maui is quite expensive and even the Jawz Taco truck was no exception. A refried bean taco costs 5 dollars and tacos with any kind of meat in them cost at least 6; burritos start at 6 dollars and hot dogs are a whopping $4.50. Isaac and I ordered a couple of mahi mahi tacos to scarf down and what we got was twelve bucks worth of more mediocrity. These tacos were defintely more tightly constructed and better team players than those we had on the Road to Hana, but that's not saying much. The fish was quite fresh, yes, but the taco itself was quite bland. As a general rule for all fish tacos, the sauce is key in tying all the elements of the pillowy tortillas, flaky fish and crisp cabbage together, and the sauce on these bad boys couldn't quite make the cut, leaving the cleaner flavors of the fish and cabbage to just simply sit there doing nothing. And at six bucks a pop, they were quite a ripoff considering I can get a taco bursting with all kinds of flava's back home in LA for under a buck. But we were in Maui after all, and at least we were able to drive back up to Ka'anapali with less acid in our stomachs (as well as less money in our pockets).

next thing you know, carl's will have a "six-dollar taco"

After having had tacos from three different places in Maui, I can now say with complete confidence: Don't do it.

Before you start chasing me with dogs and torches for ever considering eating tacos in Maui, let me just assure you that it's not all we ate in terms of cheaper, non-fancy, non-resort food. Stay tuned for Part 4, Section B, when Mr. and Mrs. Gluttony wise up to not eating tacos in Maui and try out some of the "little guys" who serve local fare.

Maui Tacos
2411 S. Kihei Rd.
Kihei, HI 96753
(other locations throughout Hawaii and the U.S.)
(808) 879-5005
www.mauitacos.com

Jawz Tacos
Makena Alanui Rd (mauka side) near the entrance to Big Beach
Makena, HI

Maui, Part 3, Section B: On The Road From Hana...A Stop At (Yo') Mama's Fish House

2006-10-24T21:43:00.000-07:00

(Sorry, I just couldn't resist the Yo' Mama part!)

With a 5:30 pm reservation at one of the most coveted tables in Maui, Isaac and I had a decision to make: Do we turn back now, or do we drive on past Hana and visit the Seven Sacred Pools?

Food?

Or more waterfalls?

Food?

Or more waterfalls?

With such a difficult decision to make, we couldn't help but feel like we were in the Looney Tunes cartoon Rabbit Seasoning:

"Would you like to shoot me now, or wait 'til you get home?"

Rabbit season? Or Duck Season? Oh, decisions, decisions...

Suddenly, the sound of Daffy Duck screaming to Elmer Fudd resonated in our heads: "Shoot him now! Shoot him now!" which we translated as "Turn back now! Turn back now!" It made sense: everybody knows that there's not much to actually see in Hana itself, and we'd already OD'd on natural pools and waterfalls anyway. And so it was that we decided to skip the beautiful sights at the famous Seven Sacred Pools and did a 180 at Wai'napanapa State Park to make sure we arrived at our dinner reservations on time. Daffy Duck is a very wise duck.

Mama's Fish House is located in Pa'ia, an old plantation town on Maui's northern coast. It's not on the main stretch of Highway 36 where all the eccentric little shops are, but it's off on its own just a tad more eastward. After driving in, valet parking your car, and walking around to the restaurant's entrance, you'll feel as if you've been whisked away to a larger, airier version of Disneyland's Enchanted Tiki Room. The decor is true Polynesian kitsch--there are tikis and surfboards and birds-of-paradise as well as real live birds here. I would have normally passed this place off as a little too cheesy for my taste, because there is a difference between Polynesian kitsch that mocks Polynesian kitsch, which is cool, and Polynesian kitsch that really is Polynesian kitsch, which is cheesy. And this place just happens to be kinda cheesy. In pure Hawaiian tourist-destination fashion, they even presented me with a lei since we were on our honeymoon; I was gracious, yes, but I was admittedly also a little embarrased as everyone in the room turned to hem and haw at the "happy couple."

polly want some kitsch?

can one OD on kitsch?

i can just picture the cheesy t-shirt: i got lei'd in maui and all i got was this lousy shirt

Soon the kitschy-ness and the tourist-trap cheesiness would go out the door, however, because the nice people at Mama's Fish House gave us some prime real estate at one of their oceanfront tables which more than made up for the cheese factor.

where'd all the cheesiness go?

Mama's Fish House's menu focuses on (duh) fresh fish and seafood, and for most of the menu entrees, even mentions the name of the fisherman who caught the fileted and pan-seared bastard that's going to be lying on your plate. I wish they'd also put a little picture of the fisherman next to his name for a little face-to-name association, but they didn't so we just had to let our imaginations run awry. My sauteed onaga was caught by a dude named Don Wakamatsu, who I imagined to look like "Uncle Marvin"--one of my Dad's old friends--a short and pleasant-mannered Japanese man with a mustache who used to bring us freshly caught fish from his fishing expeditions. There was no specific fisherman named for Isaac's opah; the only information we had was that his fish was caught aboard the "Spacer K." For kicks, and because we had nothing better to do, we imagined that the opah was caught by a guy we named Tom Grundy, an old, onery fisherman with a beard. We pictured him as a rough & gruff kind of fellow, one who maybe wears the same flannel shirt day in and day out; we pictured him to look kinda like that hillbilly "Other" guy on Lost, you know, the one who sailed up to the Michael's escape boat and kidnapped Walt.

it's like my fisherman and i have known each other for years

A warm and fluffy loaf of whole wheat bread so small & bubbly that it looked like it should have been in a cartoon was brought to our table first to soak up the couple of vodka tonics we'd just downed. An amuse-bouche of carrot-tomato bisque was comforting and soothing going down the hatch, even for a humid Maui evening.

the powerpuff girls could have baked this

carrot tomato bisque was amusing to my bouche

Our appetizer of ahi poke, served in an oh-so-hip martini glass with taro chip garnishes, came next. The glistening cubes of red ahi tuna were obscenely fresh, but whoever seasoned the dish went a little overboard on the shoyu, making it a bit too salty for our tastes. Some sweet Maui onion added a slight kick which helped to offset the saltiness.

ahi poke: salty, but gets an "A" for effort

Don Wakamatsu, the catcher of the sauteed onaga I had on my plate, did a fine job as this fish, a type of Hawaiian red snapper, was also insanely fresh. Its white flesh was clean tasting with a flaky and tender texture; the preparation and presentation, however, was good, but not phenomenal. The fish was sauteed in a garlic, tomato and caper sauce that was reminiscent of sauces I've tasted at dozens of other restaurants; the rice was pretty much just plain rice given a little tang by the addition of some chopped parsley, and the sauteed vegetables were, well, just a bunch of sauteed vegetables. Good, but nothing out of this world, and I would have expected more for a $46 entree.

call it red snapper and it would have cost 60% less

Our fictitious fisherman Tom Grundy may not have very good social skills, but man does he catch a mean fish. Isaac's upcountry style opah was so obscenely fresh that we actually felt like we were doing something kinda perverse by eating it. It had a texture that was almost creamy and a taste so clean that was a little reminiscent of drinking a tall, ice cold glass of milk. Its preparation was tastier and a little more interesting than that of my onaga, with sweet soy flavors, caramelized Maui onion, tomato, and some chunks of avocado to add a cool edge. Jasmine rice wrapped up in a ti leaf cone and some sauteed baby bok choy came with, as did a pretty magenta colored orchid. (But we didn't care much about that, did we?)

opah...makes you wanna drink ouzo & break dishes

No dessert for us, as we were completely stuffed, but our meal did end with some wonderful hot almond-scented handtowels, some delicious (and gratis!) cubes of coconut custard, and a bill for about 175 bucks.

about the only free thing here

There is a price for paradise and I suppose this is it. Of course, we didn't mind because we were on our honeymoon after all, but the bottom line is--despite the fresh fish, the million dollar view of the sunset over the Pacific and the attentive service--I think this place is just a little too much buck for the bang. Yo' mama would think so too.

Mama's Fish House
799 Poho Place
Pa'ia, Maui, HI 96779
(808) 579-8488
www.mamasfishhouse.com

Maui, Part 3, Section A: On The Road To Hana

2006-10-20T14:15:00.000-07:00

I suppose "exotic" is all in the eye of the beholder because when Isaac and I took the Road To Hana, the infamous scenic drive along the northeastern coast of Maui, one of the first things to come out of his mouth was:

"What the fuck? This looks just like Puerto Rico."

And so with me behind the wheel of our rental Buick LaCrosse taking hairpin turns and yielding to oncoming traffic on one lane bridges, I had to listen to my dear husband mouthing off about how "this part" of our drive looked just like "that part" of his native land.

I, on the other hand, loved it because the closest I've come to seeing lush green hillsides, pools, streams and waterfalls in the place I consider home is when I'm driving through the Hollywood Hills during rainy season. And that's only when I'm driving by a house on which the owner has let weeds and shrubbery go awry.

My eyes were on major sensory overload driving through this exotic landscape, but would the food on the Road To (and from) Hana be special and exotic as well? Read on...

Having driven a couple hours with a few stops here and there to check out the scenery, our stomachs were growling as all we'd had to eat during the course of the day was a lousy breakfast in Lahaina and a bunch of red iso peanuts and nori arare crackers we'd eaten in the car. Needless to say, once we spotted the Halfway To Hana stand located a little past the 17 mile marker on Highway 36, we immediately pulled the car over. The stand is popular with tourists making their way to Hana and for good reason: it's a place for those nauseated by the windy car ride to get some fresh air and though they don't sell much, it's pretty much the only place for miles that sells food other than fresh fruit. Their menu is not too extensive, just typical snack bar food like hot dogs that have been rotating under a heat lamp as well as some more Hawaiian selections such as fresh fruit (apple bananas, pineapple spears and coconut wedges), shave ice, and their "famous" banana bread. Because we'd heard so much about the banana bread on the Chowhound Elsewhere In America Board and in the book Maui Revealed, we decided to skip the snack bar food and go with a loaf of that instead. The small 6" loaves are wrapped and ready for purchase at the counter; if you're lucky, you might get one of the freshly made ones that they just brought from the house in the back. The sources are right: the bread is indeed very good--very moist and very fresh; I just didn't think it was all that special since I've had great banana bread from loads of different people & places. Not to toot my own horn, but even I can make great banana bread. (My secret? Add some sour cream...I'll do a separate post one of these days) But as we were two hungry souls on the road to Hana, this banana bread really hit the spot.

are we there yet?

the infamous loaf

mmm, nice n' moist!

About 10 more miles of driving behind other slow moving tourists through this tropical paradise and you'll run into a small grouping of food and fruit stands on the makai (ocean) side of Highway 36. Like most people that pull over at this popular stop, we were not there for the coconuts or bananas but were instead there to try a little piece of what some local woman was serving from behind a big black smoker. There's not much on the menu at the Up In Smoke BBQ--only tacos (fish, chicken or kalua pig), hot dogs, or baked breadfruit, so we made the choice to order a couple of kalua pig tacos pretty quickly.

up in smoke bbq

this ain't multiple choice

up in smoke's next door neighbor

Having brought our tacos back to the Buick because the seating area in back of the stand smelled a little like pee, we made a little bit of a mess in the car. I am convinced, though, that there were shreds of cabbage and cheese dropping with small globs of salsa all over our laps and seats not because of the mere fact we were eating in the car but because these just weren't very cohesive tacos. And by cohesive, any taco or sandwich fan will know what I mean. I'm not just saying this because I'm from L.A. where I'm spoiled by great tacos. Taco components are not just supposed to work independently; instead, they are independent parts that are supposed to work together, therefore forming a single cohesive work force. The kalua pig in these tacos, for instance, was warm and moist with a nice smoky flavor. Good on its own, right? But the rest of the taco was ice cold, including the tortilla which was not the kind of warm and fluffy flour tortilla that's supposed to cradle the meat like a mother's arms but a cold, tough, and chewy one. The cabbage shreds were cold, and I get that; but the cheese was almost too cold and fell all over my lap. Add to this a bunch of cold Pace Picante Sauce-type salsa and you've got yourself a five dollar taco organization that's devoid of teamwork. I really wanted to like the taco, but unfortunately was sorely disappointed. Out of sheer curiousity, I do wish that we would have tried the baked breadfruit, however.

There is no "I" in the word "team" nor in the word "taco"

So maybe the food on the road to Hana is nothing to write home about after all, but we weren't there for that anyway, right? Just a couple of miles down Highway 36 we stopped at Wai'anapanapa State Park where seeing slate blue waves crashing against awesome black lava rock formations made me completely forget about the lackluster meal at the taco stand. A short walk down to the small, crescent shaped black sand beach made me forget about food alltogether, even if for just a moment.

Stay tuned for Part 3, Section B, when Mr. and Mrs. Gluttony take the road from Hana to one of Maui's most popular restaurants, Mama's Fish House.

Halfway To Hana
Highway 36, about 1/3 mile past mile 17

Up In Smoke BBQ
Highway 36, near mile 28

Back To LA For A Second: How To Say "I Did" The Downtown LA Way

2006-10-16T22:43:00.000-07:00

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this important post.

Let's stop for a minute to do something a little different, shall we? We're going to leave the beautiful Hawaiian islands and go back to smoggy-ass LA. But don't worry, it won't be all that different than what you've been used to over the last four posts. Why? Because we're going to talk wedding again--yay!

Despite all the advantages of having a small wedding (which I know I already pounded into your heads in my last couple of posts), there will undoubtedly be a teeny-tiny part of you that misses the big, mingly party atmosphere of larger weddings. And so having been back from our Hawaiian honeymoon for only two weeks, that teeny-tiny part of us transformed our loft and parking lot in downtown L.A. into a swanky post-wedding party central as we hosted a Help-Us-Celebrate-Our-First-Month-Together-As-Husband-And-Wife shindig for 75 people. This past Saturday, we let the "Hey-We-Can-Still-Be-Young-And-Hip" sides of our personalities shine through: we ate, we drank, we hopped from table to table mingling with friends, neighbors, coworkers and foodbloggers, we satisfied that itty-bitty urge to celebrate our nuptials on a larger scale. But we couldn't have pulled what would normally have been a major feat without having followed a couple of guidelines:

1) Go with what you know and love

From the first time Isaac and I laid eyes (and mouths) on the tacos from Taqueria El Zarape, we were in love. And when I say Taqueria El Zarape, I'm not talking so much about the restaurant located in Montebello, I'm talking about their catering services where they actually send a guy to whatever place you choose to make street-style tacos for you on the spot. What? Yeah, fuckers, you heard me. They send a guy to your house to make tacos for you. This was a no-brainer. We just had to have the taco guy at our party. Period.

everybody loves victor

I'm sure we tortured more than a few of the local vagrants as Victor, our taco cook, fired up his grill in our parking lot and the smell of freshly grilled meats and onions started to permeate the downtown LA air. Soon, tacos of succulent carne asada, luscious carnitas and tasty grilled chicken tacos, grilled onions and (hot!) jalapenos, velvety refried beans and fluffy Mexican rice filled everyone's plates. On the side, a variety of garnishes to help one fix their tacos to their hearts' desires: chopped onion and cilantro, spicy red chile salsa, smoky fire roasted tomato salsa, tangy tomatillo salsa, lime wedges and sliced radishes.

eau de taco is a good thing

The tacos were a hit, but we knew they would be. After all people love grub, so we gave them grub.

2) Know who the talent is

I remember when Dylan from Eat, Drink and Be Merry was just starting out at "the restaurant" and with weekend catering gigs just to get some experience in the world of professional cooking. Over the course of several months, I'd read Dylan's posts chronicling his cooking and catering adventures, and I could tell that my fellow foodblogger friend was true talent who was just waiting to be discovered. It was at one of our fabulous monthly foodblogger food-fests that I asked him if he could help cater our post-wedding celebration.

"Sure, I'd be glad to. How many people are you expecting?" Dylan asked.

"Um, I think about 75," I responded.

Dylan's eyes lit up. "75??? Oh, I don't know..."

But after some further discussion, Dylan happily accepted the challenge, and Isaac and I were just relieved to have that part of our party planning crossed off our list. We were never worried that this was the largest group of people that he'd catered by himself thus far...we had complete confidence that Dylan's creations would be nothing short of specatcular, and in the end, he exceeded our expectations in every possible way.

With Jeni from Oishii Eats and Yoony from Immaeatchu in tow, Dylan arrived with his arsenal of ingredients and gear and transformed my kitchen into a well-oiled machine slicing, dicing, frying, piping, and plating, the three of them moving and flowing in perfect harmony. Right before the clock struck 7, the first trays of their hard work were put out with cute little menu cards to describe each of their edible efforts.

dylan & team hard at work

as franck eggelhoffer would say: the "mahn-yoo"

The Hawaiian Tuna Poke with Yuzu and Green Apples was a downright sexy creation. Not only did each piece look beautiful with their little gleaming ruby red cubes of tuna contrasting with the green of diced apple and radish sprouts, but they tasted amazing. I loved how the citrusy yuzu and crisp apple brought out the fresh flavor and tender texture of the tuna; I loved how the crispy bite of the wonton crisp tied the whole thing together. Simply sexy.

super sexy hawaiian tuna poke with yuzu & green apples

The Dungeoness Crab Cakes with Remoulade were little bites of heaven, fried to a perfect golden brown. Each little disc was topped by a tiny dollop of remoulade sauce which provided a nice creamy tang to pair with the slightly spiced flakiness of the dungeoness crab. Excellent.

eliminate all crabbiness with heavenly dungeoness crab cakes

Edamame hummus was a refreshing twist on the more tradtional concoction of garbanzo beans and tahini in Dylan's Truffled Edamame Hummus on Parmesan Crisps appetizer. Add a little truffle oil and put the whole thing on delicate round parmesan crisps and you've got yourself a tiny mouthful of interesting flavors that you'll never forget.

palate pleaser: truffled edamame hummus on parmesan crisps

If I had to assign a Sex and The City character to the Spiced Harissa Dip on Pita Triangles, I'd say they were Samantha--a little more forward and voluptuous than the others, but so self-confident that she gets what she wants. And boy, did we bite: the gorgeously maroon-colored pepper paste possessed deep, sultry and smoky properties that hauled you in at the first taste but that were tamed by a few crumbles of mellow feta cheese. Pillowy triangles of pita bread gave these just the right amount of body.

From preparation to execution to clean-up, Dylan and team handled our event so effortlessly and so professionally that I would have sworn he'd been catering for years. And from the overwhelming compliments our guests paid to the appetizer spread, I'd say he's got one heck of a bright future in front of him.

3. Satisfy those sweet tooths

...and what better way to satisfy them than with bite-sized cupcakes from Leda's Bakeshop in Sherman Oaks. Such squeals of joy filled the room when we brought these out that you'd think we'd brought a baby out for everyone to go ga-ga over. But the truth is, these are cuter than any baby ever will be. (OK, except for my 6 month old niece) Each little munchkin cupcake is dressed in a pleated silver cup and wears a darling little "hat" of frosting adorned with colorful candy decorations of flowers, birds, butterflies or dots. Oh, and did I mention? They taste dreamy too. Babies, eat your hearts out.

who can possibly resist an army of adorable little babies?

After the last guest had left, Mr. and Mrs. Gluttony plopped down on the sofa in the middle of our brick- walled space and let out a huge sigh. We were dead tired and could hardly move a muscle, but on the inside we were beaming because our gluttonous affair was a success. And all thanks to people who know good food.

Keep these peeps in your party-planning black book. Trust me, you'll thank me someday.

Taqueria El Zarape
2575 Via Campo
Montebello, CA 90640
(323) 838-9405

Dylan at Eat, Drink, & Be Merry
eatdrinknbmerry@gmail.com

Leda's Bakeshop
13722 Ventura Blvd.
Sherman Oaks, CA 91423
(818) 386-9644
www.ledasbakeshop.com

Maui, Part 2: Nurturing The Asian-Fusion Relationship At Roy's, Kihei

2006-10-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

(hmm, peace and quiet here or...)

By the time we visited Roy Yamaguchi's namesake Roy's in Kihei, Isaac and I had pretty much had it with Contemporary Asian-Fusion, Pacific Rim cuisine. We had been on Maui for three days and since our arrival, it seemed as though we had eaten nothing but mahi mahi cooked 18 different ways, "macadamia nut crusted" everything, seared ahi up the ying-yang...all served on a bed of rice with a drizzling of some kind of lilikoi, guava or mango-infused sauce. We were sick of it. Enough already.

But food, like a relationship, has to be nurtured. And sometimes we have to make sacrifices to do things we don't normally want to do--all in the name of love.

Take, for example, the fact that we had just started our honeymoon. And then take the fact that my family was still on the island for another day. Now most couples would normally be insistent on some alone time, some much needed peace and quiet after the big to-do over planning a wedding. But I, being the good daughter that I am, and Isaac, being the good new husband, son-, and brother-in-law that he is, agreed to spend some quality time with my family on the first official day of our honeymoon. All in the name of love and for the sake of nurturing our own Asian-Fusion relationship.

It was very fitting, then, that we all went to Roy's, the epitome of Asian-Fusion Pacific Rim restaurants for dinner that night. Isn't it ironic? (Dontcha think?)

I really hoped that the food at Roy's would make up for its lack of atmosphere. With Safeway, Starbucks, Jamba Juice, and Outback Steakhouse as its neighbors, Roy's Kihei wouldn't seem like a stand-out dining experience. Inside, its sleek, spacious and contemporary interior seemed like the perfect background for a Patrick Nagel painting. Our waiter, a young man who looked and acted like he should have been selling cell phones from a cart at the mall, gave the restaurant slightly more cheese-factor, although I will say that too much enthusiasm is always better than none when it comes to servers.

Combine several varieties of meat and local Hawaiian fish with creative execution and a menu is bound to give one a case of analysis-paralysis. The menu at Roy's was no exception. Fortunately for myself and other folks who can't easily make up their minds, the restaurant had a couple of "Mixed Plates" featuring duos of some of their meat and fish selections. Served side by side on a rectangular platter, my mixed plate of seared ahi tuna and grilled shutomi proved to be a good choice. The ahi itself was seared to perfection, its ruby red flesh looking oh-so-perky amidst a crispy coating of shiso and ginger. Underneath was a small disc-sized portion of gingery, vinegary rice flecked with furikake. A member of the swordfish family, my grilled shutomi was buttery and fleshy, and provided a meatier balance to the lighter textures and flavors of the ahi. Two spears of tender asparagus complimented the shutomi well yet were not enough to make my pee smell like it came out of an alien.

seared ahi (the yin)

grilled shutomi (the yang)

Isaac's misoyaki butterfish was fine, flavored with miso, ginger and soy and accompanied by baby bok choy and steamed rice. My mom ordered the roasted duck breast which was tender and tasty, given a Chinese kick with the addition of a black bean reduction. All of us agreed that the dish was good but because we are all used to authentic Chinese duck and black bean preparations that are so much more intense in flavor in texture, we also agreed that the dish was no match against the "real" thing. I never got to try my brother's pan seared sole which looked yummy enough sitting atop some mushroom ravioli. I'm taking his word for it that the dish was well-prepared.

you so fine: misoyaki butterfish

roasted duck: good, but it ain't no chinatown

supposedly, the sole had soul

The real winner of the night in my opinion were the honey & mustard braised shortribs, a "Roy's Classic" dish. Each bite was a perfect blend of deep smoky and sweet flavors and of beef swirled with that gelatinous goodness that only comes about with a nice braise. It's no wonder this dish stays on the menu day in and day out.

shortribs to die for

They say you can't leave Roy's without getting his famous melting hot chocolate souffle, and because it takes about 20 minutes to prepare, eager-beaver waiter boy came to take our dessert order practically right after our entrees had hit the table. I can't deny it--the souffle was ultra-sinful, oozing with silky molten chocolate as soon as the first fork broke it open. A scoop of vanilla ice cream helped to add a cool and mellow touch to this rich concoction. It was delicious, yes, but at the same time, I didn't think of it as super special--it seems as though every restaurant and its mother has their own version of a chocolate souffle nowadays, whether it's called a molten chocolate cake or a chocolate lava cake or a molten lava cake. Roy's version just happened to be well done. We also indulged in Roy's pineapple upside down cake which, though not quite as delectable as the chocolate souffle, was a special treat that we don't get to try very often.

chocolate souffle: everyone's got it, but this one's better than your mama's

pineapple upside down cake: it's hawaii...why not?

You'd think that having had meal after meal of Pacific Rim creations, we'd be completely sick of anything Asian Fusion/Pacific Rim after our meal at Roy's. What happened instead was the complete opposite. We had a wonderful experience which caused me to actually itch for more of Roy's creations here on the mainland and more importantly, we strengthened our own Asian-Fusion familial bonds by making that sacrifice--spending quality time with people other than ourselves during our honeymoon. Whodathunkit? So thank you, Roy's, for helping us nurture the Asian-Fusion relationship.

Roy's Kihei
303 Piikea Avenue
(inside the Piilani Shopping Center)
Kihei, Maui, HI 96753
(808) 891-1120
www.roysrestaurant.com

Maui, Part 1, Section B: Saying "I Do" The Hawaiian Way--It's Wedding Day!

2006-10-06T14:31:00.000-07:00

It was all a blur really.

I remember that I started out my day with a chocolate croissant that my brother had picked up for me the night before.

It was 5:30 in the morning as my croissant and I sat in the living room of our condo rental waiting for the sparks to fly. Everyone was still asleep, and the sound of waves crashing would serve as my "tick-tock, tick-tock..."

Not less than an hour later, however, curling irons were being heated up, hairspray was filling the air, multiple shades of concealer and eyeshadow were being applied, people were running around ironing clothes and getting dressed. The slight "click" of a camera's shutter could be heard every few seconds as my photographer worked the room, trying to capture all of this organized chaos.

And at 9am I was being whisked off to the Seawatch Restaurant on Wailea's Gold and Emerald Golf Courses to marry my best friend.

I remember sitting and waiting anxiously in the lobby, our coordinator and my family members racing around putting stuff away and making sure Isaac was in places where he wouldn't see his bride-to-be; I remember that the sky and water surrounding us were a gorgeous shade of blue--proof that my Dad was with me the whole time. I also remember taking one last look at the photo of my Dad that I had pinned to my bouquet before my Mom & brother started walking me down the grassy "aisle"..."OK Dad, are you ready? Here we go..."

The chocolate croissant that I had eaten 4 hours prior was now starting to become history and by the time our short 15 minute ceremony was over, I was starving. Perhaps that's why all the hugging and kissing and congratulations and signing our marriage certificate to make everything official and group photo shots and the ride down to the beach with our photographer and back up to our lunch reception are somehow stuffed in a place way deep down in the crevices of my memory--I was just way too hungry!

i couldn't wait to make it back here because here=eat!

Fortunately though, when it was finally time to sit down and eat, we really got to sit down and eat...one of the greatest advantages of having a small wedding in my opinion. It wasn't so crazy that my family wasn't able to save us a plate of hors d'oeuvres even with all the mingling they had to do. The tiny bright reddish-orange smelt eggs seemed to pop one by one against my tongue as I put each seared ahi canape in my mouth. The peanut glazed chicken skewers looked a little overcooked, but were actually quite tender & tasty. I was able to savor the Thai chili vinaigrette that dressed my tiger prawn cocktail and remember that it gave the entire salad a nice kick. I was able to taste the black sesame seeds that were sprinkled over the three plump tiger prawns and crisp napa cabbage. Hey, and you know what else you get to do at small weddings that you don't get to do at bigger ones? You get to take pictures of your food with your very own camera!

seared ahi canape and thai chicken skewers

tiger prawn cocktail

I remembered that the organic greens salad was perfectly refreshing for a hot Maui afternoon but was dressed with a dressing that was a little too citrusy for my taste. By this time, however, my mai tai, dressed in stereotypical tropical resort garb, i.e. pineapple slice & bright drink umbrella, had started to kick in, so instead of savoring my petite filet of beef with burgundy demi-glace, I scarfed it down in order to absorb the rum that had entered my bloodstream. What I can tell you is that the filet was tender but a little too saucy, and the mashed potatoes were grubbin'--probably not stellar but perfect for a bride who was tipsy at 12 o'clock in the afternoon.

this salad was a'ight

afternoon mai tai+heavy chignon=danger

filet mignon...the perfect mai tai sponge

I also had a couple bites of my Isaac's Macadamia Nut crusted catch of the day, which on that day happened to be monchong, a type of Hawaiian pomfret. I recall it being very fresh but a little too buttery tasting; Isaac thought the rice was a little too much on the soft side. My Mom chose the broiled breast of chicken because she eats neither beef nor fish (I'm not sure I'm really her daughter); it was prepared in the same fashion as my filet but with radish sprouts on top rather than the caramelized onions. I never tried it, however--it's just broiled chicken, you know? Like our filets and mac-crusted monchongs though, the chicken according to Mom, was moist. The Seawatch, therefore, passed their test of true wedding food chow-worthiness--no dry food here!

macadamia nut crusted monchong

"just" chicken

Dessert was a 6" and 10" 2-tier white wedding cake with vanilla cream custard & lilikoi filling made by Maui Wedding Cakes. I can't believe the markup places charge on (as George Banks would say) flour and water just because there's the word "wedding" attached to it, but it's an industry I guess. This cake, albeit delicious--very moist and not too sweet with a slight tang from the lilikoi-- and beautiful, cost us $200; the same thing in Chinatown would have cost $60. So maybe it wouldn't have had pretty pink and green cymbidium orchids draped elegantly down the side of its smooth white buttercream facade, but still.

let them eat cake!

By the time we left the Seawatch my head was pounding from the 5 lb. chignon that was anchored to the nape of my neck as well as from the afternoon mai tais that I had just consumed (DG and afternoon drinking do not mix, by the way)--this bride was about to get a massive migrane and still had to entertain guests at dinner that evening. What to do??? We went back to my Mom's condo where I pulled about 500 bobby pins out of my hair, tore my wedding gown off and just let it all hang out. *Aaaah...*

While everyone else took advantage of the free time between our wedding reception and our dinner by going to South Maui's beautiful beaches, I crashed for about 3 hours.

At 6 o'clock that evening, we were off to Ma'alaea, located halfway between Lahaina and Wailea, to see our guests off at a Farewell Dinner we hosted at The Ma'alaea Grill. As with Cafe O'Lei, we were a little hesitant upon first seeing its location--it shares the same parking lot as the big aquarium the Maui Ocean Center, does that say enough? We have our reputations to protect and we did not want our guests to feel like they flew 2000 miles across the Pacific to be treated to Red Lobster, n'est-ce pas? And also as with Cafe O'Lei, we were pleasantly surprised --an airy room decked out in bamboo and teak with tall french doors that opened out towards the Ma'alaea Harbor. *phew!*

the inside

the outside

Ma'alaea Grill's table bread was not only good because it was nice and crusty on the outside and warm & fluffy on the inside, but also because it was helping to bring down the major caffeine high that I'd been on from the two Excedrin I'd popped earlier in the afternoon and all the Coca Cola I had started to down. (Hey, it's a known fact burping helps ease the queasiness of headaches, no?) And soon enough, our fried calamari with wasabi aioli and sweet chili dipping sauces was out on our two tables. The calamari was good--I recall them being a tad too much on the overly battered side, but the calamari itself was of a nice texture--tender yet with a hint of elasticity. An otherwise boring green salad was given a bit more kick with the addition of bleu cheese and basil vinaigrette.

fried calamari

green salad with bleu cheese

We are very creative people, Isaac and I, so instead of the chicken-fish-steak fixed menu as with our wedding reception, the menu choices at dinner were chicken-fish-shrimp. My macadamia nut crusted chicken was cooked "picatta style": pound chicken flat, coat in macadamia nut powder, brown, remove chicken, deglaze pan with wine, add lemon juice & capers & whatever else, return chicken to pan with sauce. It's a cooking formula we all know, but regardless, the Ma'alaea Grill executed it well. My three chicken breast fillets had a nice outer crust formed by the mac-nut coating which absorbed the slightly tangy, caper-infused sauce nicely. On the bottom, a bed of buttery mashed potatoes.

mac nut crusted chicken

The shrimp on my Mom's garlic grilled shrimp were plump and juicy, served on a bed of rice with a nice spicy basil pesto drizzle, grilled tomatoes and boring broccoli. I passed on trying that night's blackened mahi mahi selection, which was a colorful presentation with its papaya salsa and cilantro garnish and completely repulsive to me without even having tasted anything. Don't mind me though. Don't let my hatred for the pukey smelling ass-fruit and vile weed of death scare you away--everyone thought it was delicious--I'm just weird like that.

grilled garlic shrimp

blackened mahi mahi with ass and more ass

The Ma'alaea Grill is part of the Cafe O'Lei group of restaurants so it was no surprise that dessert was served in a similar fashion to that we had the day before at Cafe O'Lei Kihei. Tiramisu, fudge brownie sundae, creme brulee, lilikoi cheesecake and pineapple upside down cake were served on platters for everyone to share. The tiramisu was our favorite of the bunch, having a nice balance of chocolate, marscapone, espresso & liqueur. The creme brulee was decent. Unlike the pineapple upside down cake at Cafe O'Lei which was excellent, the one here seemed dry and bland; the lilikoi cheesecake, however, also unlike the overly sweet one we had the day before, was just fine here in Ma'alaea. The brownie on our chocolate brownie sundae was hard as a rock and completely inedible.

dessert

and more dessert!

Despite a couple of misses here and there, I was quite pleased with our wedding food. I mean, it was wedding food after all, and I didn't have super high expectations--this is not The French Laundry we're talking about here. But because there were no rubbery pieces of chicken, no dry rice pilaf and no bland and mushy veggies, and because everything was pretty tasty, our nuptial chow gets the DG thumbs up.

Finally it was time for everyone to say goodbye and for Isaac and I to start our much needed honeymoon on both Maui and Oahu. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, my wedding day was over. And somehow I still couldn't help but miss the bride in me. I liked twirling around like a little girl in my white gown with a colorful bouquet of flowers in one hand. I liked feeling like a queen with her court as people followed me carrying my train. I liked that there were pretty pink flowers and little green polka-dotted boxes tied with pink bows surrounding me. I felt like I was on a cloud--even if only for a few hours. But when the clock struck twelve, the carriage turned back into a pumpkin, the horse turned back into mice, and me...I changed back into comfortable clothing. But I still had my Prince Charming to keep forever and ever. And some wonderful memories to go with.

The Seawatch Restaurant
100 Wailea Golf Club Drive
Wailea, Maui, HI 96753
(808) 875-8080
www.seawatchrestaurant.com

Ma'alaea Grill
300 Ma'alaea Rd.
Ma'alaea, Maui, HI
(808) 243-2206
www.cafeoleirestaurants.com/thegrill

Maui, Part 1, Section A: Saying "I Do" The Hawaiian Way

2006-10-04T20:38:00.000-07:00

When I was just a wee 6th grader in the early 80's, I read a story in one of our Reading Comprehension textbooks about technology and the future. The story described a day in the life of a typical American family at the turn of the century in which the family relied heavily on modern technology to get through their daily lives. They used "Vision Phones" to communicate with one another. If I remember correctly, they submitted their grocery lists electronically and were even able to type in what kind of meal they wanted via some high-tech refrigerator and have the food made for them. As a kid back in the day, I found technology fascinating, but at that level, I was more concerned about how to program the little turtle to turn 180 degrees on the screen of my Apple IIE than to think about how I'd be completely dependent on technology as an adult. So as much as I thought our reading assignment was cool, the little "yeah right" light went off in that little bowl-cut head of mine. Now, I don't think I'd ever trust my fridge to make my food, but never in a million years did I think I'd be using Skype and a web cam to see what my baby niece is up to. Never did I think I'd ditch the shopping mall for the convenience of online shopping. Never did I think that I'd plan my entire wedding via the web.

Yes, you heard me right.

I planned my entire wedding online.

Over the past year, my computer and I have been attached at the hip, sending emails back and forth between vendors, chatting and getting ideas from wonderful cyber-bride-friends I've met online, and searching through countless websites and photos to figure out how my dream day would come together without actually ever having seen anything in advance.

And so, on a beautiful and very warm September morning in Wailea, Isaac and I, along with 14 of our closest family and friends literally just "showed up" and celebrated one of the most important events in our lives. Technology did me right and all the cyber wedding planning paid off--it was the perfect day. The sky was a such a vibrant shade of turqouise and the Pacific Ocean such a beautiful deep shade of cobalt blue that morning that I knew my Dad was shining down upon us. We were completely encapsulated by the natural beauty surrounding us as we said "I do."

Maybe it's because I've always been the rebel in my family, always choosing to do the unconventional; whatever the case may be, I guess I'm what you can call the ultimate Chinese Anti-Bride. Not that I think that Chinese wedding traditions aren't beautiful because they absolutely are, but really now, I've been to one too many Chinese weddings in my lifetime and I didn't want to put on the same show that dozens of my friends and family members had done in the past. I also really didn't feel like going through a thousand rituals topped off by an extravagant 10-course dinner banquet at Ocean Star Seafood for 400 people. Isaac and I wanted small and intimate instead, and that's what we got. Sure, you might say that we missed out on a wad of red envelopes stuffed with cash from our elders, but we were willing to sacrifice money in exchange for some peace and quiet, the opportunity to spend quality time with our guests and most of all, the ability to enjoy and eat all of our food! I don't know how many times I've heard stories of my famished tuxedo and gown-clad friends making a beeline to In N'Out Burger after their own weddings.

It's a little easier taking a chance on a restaurant when it's only 5 or 10 miles away because you can simply do a drive-by. If not that, then with the growing amount of Southern California foodbloggers out there nowadays, there's bound to be someone with a delicious pictorial review of the restaurant in question. When planning a wedding that's a couple of thousand miles away, however, you're making a decision based on a website with maybe a couple 3x4 photographs of your venue at most. Most of the reviews out there, if any, sounded like whatever tourist-trap literature they had come from had been paid by the restaurants to write favorable reviews, or should I say advertisements rather. It took a couple months of web-tective work , googling Maui restaurants and spending time on The Knot, which is more or less the Chowhound of the wedding industry, to finally choose our shower, wedding reception and post wedding dinner locales.

I really hoped that the outside of Cafe O'Lei was no indication of the quality of food and atmosphere we'd be awaiting inside. We were here for the first of our wedding-related events, our Co-ed Wedding Shower-Slash-Welcome Lunch and though I am by no means an atmosphere snob, it's always nice to have a little bit of atmosphere for those special occasions. I had faith, however. I knew if there was one thing my brother and sister in-law are picky about it's food, and I knew that despite the restaurant's upstairs location in a Kihei mini-mall that was adjacent to Denny's of all places, the food was bound to be decent. I had also heard through the wedding grapevine, that these guys do a pretty mean catering gig. So under the awning, up the stairs and through the tinted glass doors I went.

The atmosphere proved to be very pleasant--we had our lunch and shower festivitites in a private room with arched doorways and teal blue walls--and the food also proved to be fine. Not excellent, but fine.

Their menu is a mix of contemporary American and Pacific Rim-inspired cuisine. We started off our meal with a couple plates of Manoa Lettuce Wraps and Cafe O'Lei Crab Cakes. The crab cakes, in my opinion, were slightly on the bland side, but made a little tastier with a few swipes of the remoulade-like sauce and a few bites of the arugula salad that adorned the dish. I also detected a slight hint of cilantro mixed into the cakes which immediately gave them the gag-factor. The Manoa Lettuce Wraps, however, were quite tasty. Hoisin sauce gave body to the bits of ground chicken, mushrooms, water chestnuts and ginger which were consequently wrapped up and eaten in cool, crisp lettuce leaves.

cafe o'lei crab cakes

manoa lettuce wraps

My Mom offered me a bite of her Jumbo Tiger Shrimp Salad, which was nicely presented on a bed of mixed greens. "What is that yellow stuff?" I asked her; to which when she told me it was yellow papaya, I politely declined, telling her that I don't eat that stuff because it smells and tastes like ass. She told me that I was silly, that the salad was "delicious and refreshing" and that I was missing out. I guess I'll never find out so I'll take her word for it, and here's a picture:

jumbo tiger shrimp salad

I quite liked my Seared Ahi Sandwich, served with wasabi mayo on focaccia because the big hunk of ahi tuna was extremely fresh and tender. On the side was a Caesar Salad...nothing special, but nevertheless providing some contrast to all that bread and meat. Too bad I couldn't finish it all--I had a wedding dress to fit into the next day!

seared ahi sandwich

My husband-to-be ordered the Sauteed Mahi Mahi with rice and salad and a couple of our friends ordered the Tempura Mahi and Chips, all agreeing that the mahi mahi, though quite a boring fish, was very fresh. Around the table were the restaurant's Crisp Fried Boneless Chicken, Crab Club Sandwich, Asian Salad, and Bill Eby's Makawao Beef Burger. I sampled some, I didn't sample others. Overall, we were quite pleased with Cafe O'Lei as the food, for the most part, was tasty and nicely presented as well as reasonably priced; the portions, however, were so large that it was a little overkill for those of us wanting to preserve our bikini bodies.

sauteed mahi mahi

tempura mahi & chips

crispy fried boneless chicken

Dessert consisted of a combination of treats for the table to share: a pineapple upside down cake which was excellent, a chocolate banana cream pie that was a little on the hard side and quite forgettable, a chocolate/Grand Marnier cake which was absolutely sinful and a lilikoi cheesecake that was so sweet it made my cavities hurt.

a bunch o' dessert

There were no games to be played at this particular shower--we did not have to play "Make a Wedding Dress Out of Toilet Paper" this time. Instead, my friends and family presented us with a scrapbook filled with pages that each of them had put together. Everyone gave loving well wishes and marital advice; some even chose to take us on a trip down memory lane...my oldest, bestest friend included a photo of us marching in an elementary school Halloween parade. There was a skinny boy wearing a giant Yoda mask marching in front of us; my friend was wearing 60's sweater and poodle skirt. I had on a purple leotard and my bowl cut hair was held in place by one of those headbands with the springy bug antennas on top. That dorky looking girl in the picture probably thought she was destined for a huge church wedding followed by an over-the-top Chinese banquet filled with red and gold good luck charms and lion dances. Little did she know that she'd be one day living her reading assignment--planning her dream wedding via a computer.

Stay tuned for part 1, section B, when DG actually ties the knot!

Cafe O'Lei
2439 S. Kihei Rd
Kihei, Maui, HI
(808) 891-1368
lunch served from 10:30 am to 3:30 pm; entrees from $7-$15 per person
dinner served from 5:o0 pm to 9:00 pm; entrees from $16-$35 per person
www.cafeoleirestaurants.com

Aloha...I'm back!

2006-10-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

I'm back, bitches...married, tan, and very, very bloated.

My new husband and I spent the last half of September in paradise, basking in the sun, frolicking in the water, eating some very ono grindz and watching gorgeous sunsets every evening.

But now I am back home in Los Angeles.

From this....

...to this.

As I was driving home on Washington Boulevard from an extremely difficult first week back at work the other day, I watched the sun set. Like the sunsets we witnessed in Hawaii, rich hues of periwinkle, lavender, orange and gold danced with one another to form the most interesting marbled patterns in the sky. Unlike Hawaii, however, there were no palm trees, golden sands or sparking waters in the foreground. No, what I saw in front of this sunset on my drive through Vernon, CA, that evening were "El Cucuy de la Mañana" billboards, power lines, railroad yards and big rigs. This sunset was formed out of the smog particles that had saturated the air, which by the way, thanks to the Farmer John plant in the area, also smelled like rancid cat food.

I have decided, therefore, that I need to find a way to pack up and move to Hawaii, and I figure there are three ways in which I can achieve this goal:

a) Think up an ingenious business plan involving some way to lure in and gimmick tourists.

b) Live a modest lifestyle with whatever life savings I already have and work at Starbucks in order to get a 401K and health insurance.

c) Whore out my analytical skills--there's gotta be someone over there who is in need of some in depth business analysis.

Or I can just shut the fuck up and enjoy my life in L.A. And maybe just have a vacation home in Hawaii. Is that better?

Anyways, folks, I'm glad to be back...have you missed me??? Look for new posts detailing my Hawaiian food (and other!) adventures over the next couple of weeks.

Much aloha,
DG

Heaven Has A New Star Chef: In Loving Memory Of My Father

2006-08-01T20:46:00.000-07:00

After a fifteen month-long battle with pancreatic cancer, my father recently passed away. I wrote my Dad a letter regarding love that I read aloud at his funeral service, and I'd like to share it with all of my readers...

Dear Dad,

I remember a day years ago when I was growing up and you and I had gotten into an argument. I don't remember how the argument had started or even what we had argued about, but I do remember that in a fit of anger, I had asked you why you weren't loving like other dads. I told you that I resented the fact that I got more lectures than hugs and kisses from you and that you never called me "honey" or "sweetheart" or "princess" and that because of that, I did not feel loved. I also remember that you were very hurt and angered by what I had said. Though it's more than 20 years after the fact, I still want to apologize for ever saying that. I'm sorry Dad--I was young and naive, and most of all, I was wrong.

For over the years, I learned through you that I didn't need to be called "honey" or "sweetheart" or "princess" because those are merely words! I know that you were never the touchy-feely, huggy-kissy type; in fact, more often than not, you had quite a serious demeanor and fiery spirit. But through your efforts to teach your children what's right--hence, the lectures--and through the constant selfless sacrifices you made for your family, you showed me what the true definition of love really is. You taught me that it's not what you say, but instead what you do for your loved ones that counts. You were the ultimate embodiment of the phrase "actions speak louder than words" and for that, Dad, you are the most loving man I have ever known.

Dad, one of your greatest passions was food, and it was often through food that you showed your love. You always planned ahead to make sure you fed me my favorite dishes when I came home to visit. I could have just bought myself a little something for lunch at the office cafeteria on days where I went straight to work from flying back from home, but you always made a special stop in Oakland Chinatown on the way to the airport to buy me a bahn mi sandwich just so I could have something better to eat. And because I'm your daughter, you always kept a watchful eye over all of my boyfriends, but despite the suspect comments, you showed your acceptance in your own way. Never did you say to me "I like him--he's a nice guy"; instead, you'd ask, "What does he like to eat?" or "Does he eat this?" and then cook accordingly.

So that I would have a taste of home away from home, you always packed more of my favorite home-cooked foods into to-go containers to take back with me to LA. Sometimes you even drove the food down to LA yourself, spending a few quality hours with your daughter and then turning around to deliver food to [my brother] in Davis on the same day! I know, there were times when we were a little less appreciative--when we'd trade our home-cooked Chinese food for pizza or when we would joke with our cousins about tossing those to-go boxes out the car window on the way back to school. But we always knew that no other dad would have done such an act of love for his children, and we savored everything you cooked for us.

I will miss you Dad; I will miss your cooking and most of all, I will miss your love. But I am comforted by the fact that you are in a better place and that we will see each other again. Until then, I know that because you've affected so many people so much with your love, there will be enough love to last for generations to come.

I love you Dad.

Love,
Pamela

It's not like I've been around much recently anyways, but I just wanted to officially say that I'll be taking a little bit of time off from food blogging to catch up on some personal things. Don't you worry, though...I promise that I will be back in full force with a husband, a clear mind, and a full stomach. Look for new posts in the fall, maybe earlier if I find the time.

And please, if you haven't already read the post I wrote back in November when I had taken time off to be with my Dad, I urge you to do so. It means alot to me, and I hope it will mean alot to you as well.

I wish all of you and your loved ones the very best.

Can I Press Charges For Hit and Run Snarkiness?

2006-06-26T11:45:00.000-07:00

(photo courtesy of Melissa's Produce)

Dear Anonymous Commenter:

Do not read my post about my first experience eating Salvadorean food at Koreatown's Atlacatl and then leave me a comment that simply says:

"How did you get the impression that 'yuca' is a tuber? It definitely is not..."

By doing a little internet research in the form of articles such as this and this, I came to the conclusion that the yuca is indeed a tuber. But if you disagree, then please, do not just do a drive-by and then run off. At least tell me what it fucking is.

Hugs,
DG

Who Wants Some Dirty Sugar Cookies?: The Dirty Sugar Cookies Virtual Book Tour, Day 20

2006-06-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

I think I found my epicurean soul sister.

If "epicurean" is the right word to describe us, that is. Because the word "epicurean" implies that one is well studied in the art of food and drink--that one has, according to Webster's Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary, "sensitive and discriminating tastes especially in food or wine." When somebody says that someone is an epicure, thoughts of ladies and gents with eating with turned up pointy noses come to mind.

So maybe "epicurean" isn't the right word to describe my newfound (insert word pertaining to food here) soul sister Ayun Halliday, author of Dirty Sugar Cookies: Culinary Observations, Questionable Taste. To be quite honest, when Ayun first approached me and asked if I'd like to participate in a virtual book tour to promote her new book, I had no idea who she was. I never read her other books The Big Rumpus, No Touch Monkey or Job Hopper nor have I ever heard of her 'zine East Village Inky. And maybe because I hadn't, and because at that time I didn't know much about Dirty Sugar Cookies except for the fact that it was some sort of food memoir, I pictured Ayun as the stereotypical epicure...you know, the type that has serious discussions about foie gras with a group of wine snobs. But I was sooo wrong! (Please forgive me Ayun!)

Ayun knows food the way I do. We like it; hell, we adore it. But come on, let's be honest here. We didn't always like what we like, or dislike what we dislike. And we weren't all born with a silver palate, but we did have curious obsessions with those that seemed like they were. Dirty Sugar Cookies takes us along the long, sometimes awkward, but certainly humorous road to culinary self-discovery. She brings us back to her chilhood and adolescence where Pop Tarts weren't just something she scarfed down at camp, but something that fit into an almost obsessive-compulsive pattern of breakfast eating where everything, including Count Chocula and the Pop Tart, had to be placed just so. I'd pretty much pushed Seventeen Magazine deep down into the dregs of my memory until Ayun resurfaces those memories of prom fashions and lip gloss in telling us what role the beloved teenage magazine and food played in her coming of age. She tells us of post-coital breakfasts and why certain neighborhood diners were more well suited for them. We go with her to Indonesia and Thailand where she shows us why we'd never want to order an Austrailian Pizza and also about how she fell in love with (but never again could find) mangosteens.

But perhaps my favorite part of Dirty Sugar Cookies is an earlier chapter titled "Fruit Basket Upset" where Ayun reminded me of my childhood definition of good cooking. Now I'm not talking McDonalds, pizza and candy; I'm talking about those things that I identified as good eats when I first realized that cooking's a process--that it's an art. With that being said, I'm not talking about miso glazed black cod or osso buco either. When I was young, I thought the most bad-ass chefs were the ones who could make some outrageously over-the-top creation like the coveted "Enchanted Castle" cake from the Betty Crocker Boys and Girls Cookbook that Ayun so fondly remembers. It was a cake situated on a lawn of coconut shreds that were dyed green and that had ice cream cones as turrets; it was a cake that was big, gaudily ornate and colorful and which had a big fancy picture within the cookbook, luring both boys and girls in everytime they looked at it and making them think "Gee, when I grow up I'm going be a chef and make a cake just like that one!" Little did one know that the inside of that cake probably tasted like paste. Yet at that age, that cake stood for real cooking, dammit.

So, because I'm a sucker for sarcasm, I decided to recreate "Shitty Kitty Confection" from a cake recipe at the end of the chapter. Ayun calls it "a trompe l'oeil treat"--a bit wacky, I say, but I fucking love it. Imagine all the "oohs" and "aahs" Mrs. Happy Housewife would receive as she brought this out to the dinner table back in the day! Here the excerpt from Ayun's book...follow along, won't you? (And maybe make one yourself someday!)

"Prepare 1 large package of vanilla pudding mix according to package directions. Most likely this will involve milk. (You'll want to have some on hand anywayto wash down the horrifingly realistic finished product.) Stick the pudding in the fridge in a container of your choosing.

Mix 1 box of German chocolate cake mix with whatever eggs or oils it may call for, and bake according to the instructions on the side of the box in whatever pan grabs you.

(My supplies! Fortunately, everything was on sale at Albertson's.)

(Mixin' it up with Duncan Hines)

Repeat the above process with 1 box of white cake mix.

Get ready to fuck your blender up with 1 package of vanilla sandwich cookies...you know, the kind you hated as a kid because they weren't dark, like Oreos. If you're the old fashioned type, get out your rolling pin and clobber them up to crumb city that way.

(Since I have a food processor, I guess I didn't have to fuck up my blender)

If you want to get really fancy, dude up 1 cup of cookie crumbs with a few drops of green food coloring. Stir them up good and set aside.

(New and improved extra deodorizing formula!)

Once the cakes have cooled, crumble them up into your largest mixing bowl with half of the undyed cookie crumbsand enough pudding to bind it all together, without turning things too boggy.

(Mix it up good!)

Line the brand new litter box you bought at the pet supply store with one of the brand new disposable litter box liners picked up on the same trip. This is one step where it doesn't pay to skimp, no matter how fastidiously you wash dishes.

Strip the wrappers off a few small Tootsie rollsand heat them in the microwaveuntil they are as pliant as if you'd tucked them into your armpits for an hour (which you can totally do if, like me, you don't have room for a microwave in your kitchen) Now that they're warm, these little brown logs are yours for the shaping. Pay special attention to the ends, which should be tapered. Make as many of them as you'd like, but at least one per guest. Follow your muse. Just work in small batches for maximum plasticity. Bury most of the doctored Tootsies in the cake mixture.

(I showed Isaac my first turd attempt. He's had a cat before (poor Isaac) and would be able to tell me if my Tootsie turds were passable. He took it from me and said I had to make 'em smaller & more dimply. The above is what the finished product looked like. )

(Carefully inserting a Tootsie turd into the cake litter)

Over this mess, sprinkle the remaining undyed cookie crumbs. fancy types can follow this up with judiciously spaced, chlorophyll green "odor crystal"crumbs.

For good measure, plop a few more Tootsies defiantly atop the "litter"--you know, the way felines do.

(The practical side of me told me to not buy a real litter box since I will never, ever own a cat. So I used my trusty 9x13 cake pan.)

("No, no, cats don't leave all their turds on the top," Isaac advised, "you gotta bury them more." I left one sticking out just for kicks.)

Serve with a pooper scooper that, if not brand new, is at least reserved for culinary purposes such as this."

(Mmm! All nice & clumpy--just like kitty would have left it! Note that I didn't have a kitty litter scoop either, so I used the next best thing.)

It tasted kinda like...paste! But oh what fun it was!

Dirty Sugar Cookies is available for purchase now through Powells.com. Buy it. Now.

Daily & Gluttony Go To Fatburger

2006-06-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

I don't mean to lead you on.

I don't mean to make it sound like there were raging parties at the university with girls playing Battle-Shits in the bathroom. In fact, there were no "Extreme" guys taunting me inside the convenience store. I was not stuck at some tow yard with some scary dude with crossed-eyes, boils and missing teeth. Doogie Howser did not steal my car while he was high on E. There was no jail, no doobage, no giant walking bag of doobage, and no riding on the back of a stoned cheetah.

No perhaps none of this happened. But just like our friends silver screen friends Harold and Kumar, I was on a quest one Saturday night for the one thing I just couldn't get out of my mind. They wanted their White Castle and I wanted my Fatburger. And I set out on a quest to get it.

I don't know what suddenly gave me the urge to go on the hunt for this particular burger on a bun. Perhaps it was how the smokiness of the grilled beef patty seems to dance in harmony with the melted cheese and special thousand-island and relish based sauce. Or maybe it was how the top of the toasted bun gleams with the slightest bit of oil and breaks with a faint crunch when you first bite into it. Whatever it was, I was obsessed, even if only for one night.

Unlike Harold and Kumar, I had no partner in crime that Saturday night as Isaac had already made other plans. Under other circumstances, I'd normally tell myself to forget it, to wait until I had someone to go with me, but I already knew the consequences of self-denial. So I set out on my journey solo, unbeknownst of what adventures lay ahead of me.

First stop: www.fatburger.com to see where I'd be headed exactly. Because that night I'd typically been a "like totally fer sure" Fatburger Valley Girl, getting my fix at the Fatburger locations near my old office, namely, the Studio City locale or, before it closed down , the one on San Fernando in Burbank. I entered my zip code into the "Find the Nearest Location" box. Aha! What's this? There's a Fatburger near downtown on Figueroa? Of course! What USC student wouldn't want Fatburger? I'm there!

So I have eaten by myself, eh, probably four times since I got over my phobia of dining solo several months ago, but in my pathetic mind there's just something pathetic about a girl having dinner out alone on a Saturday night, so this girl would be taking hers to go. I therefore picked up the phone before leaving my house and dialed the newly discovered Figueroa location to call in my order.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

(Repeat about 20 times)

OK, there must be a mistake. What burger joint would be closed at 7pm on a Saturday? So I told myself to be patient and wait another 5 minutes to call again. I dialed. No answer. Each 5 minute wait quickly became intervals of 30 seconds, and each time I failed to get an answer. Almost half an hour had passed and though this supposed location was only a couple miles from my house, I just couldn't risk it. What if I drove all the way there and it was closed? What if it had gone out of business??? So I set out for the Fatburger that I at least knew existed.

I jumped in my little car and headed towards the 5 freeway which would take me to Los Feliz, home of the Fatburger on Vermont & Hollywood which, because I had driven past it just a few days prior, would certainly be there. Except instead of getting on the 5 North, brilliant me gets on the 5 South. And I drove...and drove...and the next closest exit seemed like an eternity away. When I finally found an offramp, I suddenly found myself in one of those seedy cities that borders downtown LA and the industrial wasteland known as Commerce. Logic would tell me that if I get off the freeway and go under whatever overpass the freeway forms, that I would eventually find a sign directing me to the freeway entrance for the opposite direction. I felt like Fred Flinstone running through Bedrock, always passing the same palm tree and house as he kept running, only in my case, it happened to be that I was indeed passing different houses--it was just that they were all very similar. They all had crappy chain-link fences around them, they all had broken down cars out front, and they all had people and dogs that stared at you when you drove by. Uh, not a neighborhood I'd like to be stuck in.

The mere thought of Fatburger, however, kept me motivated--I still had a mission to accomplish after all--and in time, I found the freeway entrance. With one hand holding the "Fatburger Locations" printout AND holding the wheel, my eyes alternating between the road and reading the phone number, and the other hand dialing, I was well on my way to burger-land. Except...

...Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Oh fuck me, I thought, was this a national Fatburger holiday??? Now that this newly dialed number was in the dialing memory of my cell phone, I started redialing every 20-30 seconds with no luck until I was exiting the 5 freeway at Los Feliz Blvd and SOMEBODY finally bloody answered.

"Fatburger, can I help you?" the guy on the phone answered as I had already exited the 5 on Los Feliz Blvd.

"Yeah, you can go fuc..." JUST KIDDING! I wouldn't drive all that way just to tell somebody off, would I? (Well, actually...) I figure the poor people working there were just so busy catering to other obsessive and hungry freaks like myself that they could answer the phone. He told me eight minutes; I was there within one. As I waited I fantasized about Doogie Howser returning my "love stained" car and then buying my entire Fatburger meal. Unfortunately, I had no such luck. Fortunately however, the Fatburger was in my greedy little hands after about ten minutes and I was on the way back home. I propped the bag up and open so as to not let steam get trapped inside the bag and make everything soggy.

About an hour and a half after I had originally left the house in the first place I was back at home, comfy and cozy, and quite content with Fatburger in hand. The reward in front of me was representative of my usual selection: Fatburger with cheese, hold the onions, add bacon (sorry, no egg this time). Add chili, but on the side. Skinny Fries.

I like that all the parts work together in unision; I like that the bun isn't too bready, but still substantial enough that when you bite through its slightly crispy edge, you don't get too much grilled beef patty or too much special sauce or too much cheese. I like that the lettuce is shredded and the tomato isn't too thickly sliced so as to not get pulled out in sheets with your teeth. Everyone has their own preference regarding the fries, but I prefer the crispiness of their Skinny Fries over the meatiness of their Fat Fries. And the chili, my friends, is not for the burger, but to dip the fries in. A whole order of chili cheese fries would be a little too much, so instead, I do it my way.

OK, so maybe my quest was nowhere near as interesting as Harold and Kumar's, but the outcome was the same: I got what I set out for and was completey satisfied. How far would you go for something you crave?

Fatburger
1611 N. Vermont Ave
Hollywood, CA 90027
(323) 663-3100
www.fatburger.com
Many other locations thoughout Southern California, but I can't guarantee they'll pick up the phone!

Short Rizzles In The Hizzle: DG Cooks Braised Short Ribs

2006-05-29T10:38:00.000-07:00

When it comes to grocery shopping, I am, for the most part, a creature of habit. I hit up the same stores every week: Trader Joes, California Market and Costco. Trader Joes, California Market, and Costco. Trader Joes...OK enough--do you know my routine by heart yet? For kicks, I sometimes throw in 99 Ranch or Mitsuwa. My diet on a typical week is for the most part pretty simple; I can get pretty much everything I need at one of these stores. No problem, right?

Every once in a while, however, I get a hankering to cook something a little out of the ordinary. Let's say, for instance, that I want to whip up a little Osso Buco on (anti-) Valentine's Day for my honey & me. Some people might find it an adventure driving all around town wasting precious gasoline trying to find a couple of veal shanks. But me, not so much. Take that hunt for veal shanks, for example. I was a good sport about it at first (Hey, this might actually be kinda fun, I thought), even making it a little project by doing a little research. Quite a few people told me that Whole Foods' or Gelsons' meat departments carried the shanks, but the cheapskate in me quickly scratched those options off my list as I didn't want to pay something like $15 a pound. Eat, Drink, & Be Merry told me about some Kosher meat shop he went to on the Westside, but uh, either I had to stay true to my Eastside roots, or I was just too fucking lazy to drive to the Westside. I took my creature-of-habit ass over to Burbank where I made the usual rounds to Costco & Trader Joes and while I was out there, I remembered being told that Howdy Market on Magnolia had a pretty decent meat selection. But they were out. They were out and poor little ol' me sat in my car clueless as to where to go. I pulled the trusty Thomas Guide out and tried to devise a strategy as to which street I should start down to find a decent butcher and not have to go to Gelsons. Should it be Victory? Or maybe Burbank Blvd? Or perhaps there's something else on Magnolia? Fortunately, the light in my head suddenly switched on and I recalled that Monte Carlo Italian market was right down the street and did indeed have a meat counter. I was in luck...they had 6 veal shanks left, and for only $6.99 a pound. I took them all. I guess you could say that the osso buco dinner was well worth the grand tour of Burbank, but I can't deny that even thinking about it makes me tired. That's why I try to stick to what I know best.

Several weeks ago, I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice to have some short ribs and mashed potatoes?" There was a small, unavoidable problem, however: I didn't know where to get good short ribs, bone-in. I knew Costco sold short ribs, but they're boneless, and what are short ribs without the bone? That's why they call them short ribs, after all. You already know that Gelsons and Whole Foods were out of the picture. And I almost never ever set foot into your mainstream supermarket like Ralphs or Albertsons unless I really have to. And as you know, I've been a busy, busy person lately...I just didn't have the time to be driving all around town to find short ribs. So for several weeks I thought about making short ribs but because stubborn ol' me didn't want to stray from my regular shopping routine, I kind of gave up on the idea.

One day, as I had just finished filling up my cart with produce and little clear prepacked boxes of panchan at one of my usual haunts, California Market in Koreatown, I walked by the meat section, perhaps to pick up some sliced beef for bulgogi or some sliced short ri...iii..b...

Short ribs? Did someone say short ribs??? It was like a light had been turned on and suddenly I could see--there I was in the middle of the California Market meat aisle having an epiphany of sorts. My gosh, why hadn't I thought of the Korean market before? I suppose I had been experiencing some sort of culinary tunnel-vision all along, because prior to my enlightening discovery, short ribs at Korean market equaled kalbi and that was it. Just because I'm used to getting them sliced thin and marinating them with garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil, and pear juice amongst other things, doesn't mean that I can't ask for them sliced thick to be braised with mire poix. Hey, and fortunately for me, there were packages of thick cut short ribs right there in front of me ready to purchase for only about eleven bucks--will ya take a look at that?

Removing the 3 hunks of shorts ribs from their styrofoam tray, I pat them dry and dusted with a little flour and then slowly released them into my fabulous dune-colored dutch oven for browning.

The short rizzles are finally in my hizzle

After browning on all sides, I removed the ribs, and proceeded to add 2 stalks worth of chopped celery, 1 chopped carrot and 1 chopped onion--or if you want to be fancy about it, mire poix--scraping up all the browned bits from our meat as the veggies began their sweating process.

Mire what?

I then added a couple dollops (and by dollops, I mean dollops, no measurements here) of tomato paste and a swig or two of cabernet to our celery, carrot and onion mixture and cooked for another couple minutes. The meat was released back into the pot, covered with beef broth and simmered for about two hours on low heat.

Simmer down now...

The meat was so tender...

How tender was it?

It was sooo tender...

That it fell off the bone!

OK, har-dee-har-har, but seriously, we all know that unless cooked properly, short ribs can be tough and dry. That's why we tenderize the hell out of our kalbi with Asian pear juice. But when cooked correctly, it kinda makes you glad you're a carnivore. It's got meaty meat, it's got bone whose marrow has permeated into your sauce giving it its velvety properties, and it's got that luscious gelatinous connective tissue you can get only by simmering everything down.

I chose to serve my short ribs over a bed of arugula tossed with lemon juice and alongside some homemade roasted garlic mashed potatoes. With a glass of cabernet as accompaniment, this was the perfect comfort meal.

Things have a way of working themselves out in the end, don't they? I have to admit that I was a little disappointed in myself for being so unresourceful in the first place, but I learned an important lesson, and from now on this creature of habit would start to think outside the kalbi box.

Izakaya, Superman and Set Theory: Musha, Torrance

2006-05-15T22:48:00.000-07:00

What do food-blogging, Superman and set theory have in common? Read on...

The last time I went to Musha, it was at their Santa Monica location and there was too much food for the size of our teeny tiny table. This time, Isaac and I went to their Torrance location and were almost in danger of not having enough food on our gigantic table. Huh?

The only way I can halfway decently explain this is that the two Mushas must, in fact, be Bizarro twins. What are those, you ask? Well, it's all related to a man in blue tights.

You know, Superman wasn't only responsible for making us drool over that manly body wrapped up in red panties and blue tights, but the comic strip itself was also responsible for bringing forth the whole concept of the Bizarro World in which Lex Luthor created awkward duplicates of Superman and his buddies. If the Superman Bizarro world doesn't ring a bell, then surely you must remember the Seinfeld episode where Elaine's new boyfriend and pals were strangely reminiscent of Jerry and his cronies. But however alike they were, Bizarro Jerry and friends were different all the same. Bizarro Jerry and buddies looked oddly like the originals, but whereas the originals were comfortable with each other's shallowness, their alter-egos were well read and considerate. Different--but the same. The same--but different. You get the picture.

The two Musha Bizarro twins were no exception: the two restaurants are imperfect clones of one another and able to exist independently within their own parallel universes, otherwise known as Santa Monica and Torrance. It was a Wednesday evening when several of us Southern California food bloggers left whatever world we normally call home and crossed over into the Bizarro Musha land of Torrance.

The fifteen-or-so of us were seated at the huge table that sits smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. We were all given menus but none of us looked at them right away; I, for one, was too busy chatting with all the wonderful personalities I had around me. Isaac and I brainstormed with Steve of Gastrologica and wife as well as Jonah of l.a.foodblogging and wife as to where the next blogger get together should be. We got some 411 about Mr.EatDrink&BeMerry's Japan trip and Ms. BoLA's upcoming high school reunion. We did some major catching up with our friend and recently turned food blogger, Mr. DietChiliCheeseFries of The Random Burrito. And as always, it's an absolute pleasure finally see the faces of the people you cyber-connect with on a regular basis: I asked Professor Salt of You Gonna Eat That? if he was a really a professor and had a great time talking food with him, his girlfriend and friend at the other end of the table. Now is he really a professor? Meet him yourself and find out. Ms. Colleen Cuisine, Jeni from Oishii Eats and I seemed like we'd been friends for longer than just an hour. And I am still a little star struck from meeting Eddie Lin of live octopus, beef pizzle, and balut eatin', deep end dining fame.

When I finally opened the menu, I noticed some Bizarro characteristics between Musha Torrance's menu and Santa Monica Musha's menu right away. The format and all-caps, Asian inspired font were the same. Like the Santa Monica menu, there was quite a bit of Engrish used to describe the dishes. But not all of the dishes were the same. The Torrance location does not serve green bean salad nor as big of a sashimi selection, for example, but it does serve certain dishes that the Santa Monica one doesn't serve like Eihire, or stingray fin cooked on a shirichin grill. Then, of course, their menus share many of the same dishes. The more I thought about ut, the more the whole situation reminded of a Venn Diagram--you know, those two intersecting circles we all used to draw in logic class with the shaded area in the middle to show where the two sets were similar. I just never knew back then that the two sets were in fact, Bizarro twins. If I had had the foresight to compare sets to Superman back then, maybe set theory would have been more interesting.

It will "take your mouth to the Asia"

As I mentioned earlier, there was quite a spacial and dimensional difference between the my experiences with both restaurants. 'Cause see, depending on which way you look at it, one of the restaurants is like the guy with the really big body and the really small head, and the other one is like the guy with the really small body and the really big head. Issac, DietChiliCheeseFries and I shared a bill and as usual, our eyes were bigger than our stomachs so we started ordering everything under the sun, many things which coincidentally lay on the specials menu on the outer, non-intersecting portion of this Bizarro Musha Venn Diagram. "One Fried Albacore Tuna Sashimi," I told our waiter. "Sorry, we are out of that tonight," he answered. OK, strike one. "OK, then how about the 'Tako' Octopus Ball?" "Heh heh, sorry we are out of that too." Hmm. "Uh, then do you have the Soyweed Roll?" "Oh soooory, we are out." Yeah, of course you are buddy. Strike three. Well gee, interestingly enough, we have a really, really big table on which to fit all the food that you don't have. Sooo much different than the other place where we had too much food, not enough space, wouldn't you say?

We also thought that the Kabocha pumpkin croquettes were part of the intersecting portion of the Bizarro Musha Venn Diagram, but apparently not. EatDrink&BeMerry's had them at the Torrance location before, a friend of mine's had them here before, and I know for a fact that they are part of Santa Monica's regular menu. This was total Bizarro Venn Diagram chaos and caused all of us upon seeing the word "Kabocha" on the menu to accidentally order the Kabocha Dip. It was all good though, the velvety light orange paste had both hearty and refreshing qualities to it. The Keebler Elf crackers served with the dip, however, needed to go as they broke apart so easily that they didn't work well for dipping at all.

This is what happens when you fail set theory

Our next few dishes did reside in the intersecting part of our Musha Venn Diagram. "M.F.C" or Musha's Fried Chicken is basically a cleverly named chicken karaage and much better tasting than anything the Colonel ever made. (Don't trip though, I do love me some KFC sometimes!) Because M.F.C is from Bizarro-land, it's certainly no surprise that it's not cut into nugget like chunks like your typical chicken karaage, but is more like one big sliced up chicken thigh instead. The wonderful almost milky-salty taste and crispy crunch that one always gets with their favorite chicken karaage is all there however and for that, M.F.C. isn't all that Bizarro.

No bucket for this chicken

Our tuna poke kind of resides on the very outer edge of the intersecting part of our circles because in Santa Monica, the poke is found on the Sashimi portion of the menu which Torrance simply does not have. Nevertheless, it is delicious at both locations. I love that poke is so multi-dimensional, and Musha's version is no exception. There are the flavors of salt, sesame, soy and chili working separately yet in unison; texturally, it's just as interesting: the crunchy texture of the ogo seaweed and scallions, the tender bite of the maguro tuna and the crispy crunch of rice cakes show that opposites do indeed attract.

The poke is okey-dokey!

We were also glad that like the Santa Monica location, the Torrance location offers Shirichin-grilled plates. Our favorite is the Tanshio, or grilled beef tongue, sliced thin and self-grilled on our shirichin grill until slightly crispy at the edges and enhanced with a few squirts of lemon and a few swipes in the salt and sesame based sauce. To my point about being the same but different however, there was plenty of room to grill this time around, which was way unlike our experience with Torrance's Bizarro Twin. And as always, Isaac found a way to make his food more interesting...uh, can you say sriracha on the beef tongue??? I think my fiance resides in the Bizarro world sometimes.

Look! TWO grills on the table...with room to spare!

Braised pork belly and all of its variations actually cross several worlds, making it a resident of a multi-cultural Venn Diagram intersection. Here at Musha, the tender meat braised in sweet gingery soy is called Buta Kakuni in Japanese but seems to shout "Hey yo, no color lines!" as it was served on one of those blue and white ceramic dishes that fill every Chinese family's cabinets. My parents would have put daikon chunks into the dish along with the soy-soaked boiled egg; these guys used potato as a bit more of a Western twist. Proving the dish's Bizarro- worthiness was its cilantro garnish which, though never welcome in my book, is understandable on Chinese food; being on a Japanese dish, however, is sheer insanity.

Wait, am I at my parent's house?

Speaking of crossing cultural universes, our "El Taco Rice" took the cake. Isaac and I thought it was intriguing because, well, it's kinda just like us--one big Latino-Asian Venn Diagram. The tostada salad-looking dish was surprisingly good. Seasoned ground beef garnished with cheese and chives sat atop warm steamed rice in a delicate but crunchy taco shell. Cool cabbage shreds dressed with some kind of kewpie mayo dressing and juicy tomatoes added a refreshing aspect to the fusion. "You think they used Lawry's seasoning on this?" DietChiliCheeseFries asked. And then it clicked and suddenly I was transported back to my college days: my roommates and I had the rice cooker going 24/7 and whatever we ate, whether it was something Asian like kalbi & kimchi or something not like Hamburger Helper or taco meat seasoned with instant taco seasoning packets, there was always some rice on the side. El Taco Rice brought those fond food memories back; except that for the $3.80 we paid at Musha for an appetizer sized portion, we were able to dish up huge plates of food for me and all my college homies.

Yo quiero taco rice

Though Musha Torrance was out of several items that evening, there were some pretty interesting dishes had by the rest of the group, some that live on the outer portions of the Bizarro World and others that coexist in the middle. There was a Baguette Gratin, a steamy, gooey hunk of baguette stuffed with scallop, cream and cheese and wrapped in foil shared by Professor Salt and friends down at the opposite end of the table. Jeni, BoLA and EDNBM shared a takotami, supposedly "Musha's Signature Dish", an omelette of sorts made with octopus, Tokyo leek, red ginger and tuna broth. After seeing Mr. & Mrs. Jonah of l.a.foodblogging's Ebi Yuba Shinjo, or shrimp dumplings wrapped in tofu skin, we were moved to order some of the cute little pouches for ourselves, but guess what? They had just run out. So needless to say, we didn't even try asking our waiter about the cool looking table-seared mackerel shared by Mr. & Mrs. Gastrologica.

Didn't want to be let down, so I just looked

Start the sappy piano music, because the cheesy moral of the story is: The whole Musha One and Musha Two experience was all-in-all Bizarro, but if you think about it, isn't life pretty Bizarro in itself? No, I'm not saying that we were all created by Lex Luthor's duplicating ray, but that while we are all so very different, we are all very much the same. The world is one big Venn Diagram, and Musha is just a wee part of it.

Musha Torrance
1725 Carson St., Suite B
Torrance, CA 90501
(310) 787-7344

Stay Tuned...

2006-05-08T20:16:00.000-07:00

Where the hell have I been? Well, working late hours, planning a wedding and a slew of recent familial and social obligations makes for a pretty neglected blog. But it doesn't mean that I've stopped eating, aw heck no.

Hang tight 'cause in the next few weeks I'm hoping to tell you:

*That for the price of a one tank of gas, I filled up with quite a fine meal at Ford's Filling Station.

*How a bunch of local food bloggers crossed into a parallel universe at Musha.

*Where I had a sudden epiphany one day and therefore ended up braising short ribs.

*What I ate out of a styrofoam cup from Sergio's Tacos.

*How Fatburger was my White Castle one Saturday night.

Stay tuned!

Untitled, 2006: Mystery Food Stall at California Market, Koreatown

2006-04-27T22:00:00.000-07:00

You'd think by now I would know his name.

I've paid quite a few visits to this Korean food stall located inside Koreatown's California Market, yet I still don't know what to call it because all the signs are in Korean. Yes, my friends, this is the John Doe of Korean food stalls. Or should I call it John Kim? (Yoo-hoo readers, this is your cue to interject...if you know Korean, please tell me what the hell it's called)

Despite the language barrier, I can tell John Kim is a pretty straightforward kind of guy. There are about 20 things on his menu, all identified by a colorful picture, a number, the price and a description in Korean. There are things I can recognize like bulgogi and daeji bulgogi, kim bap and kimchi jigae. And there are a few things, mostly soup and noodle based items that I've seen before but can't remember the name of or read them for that matter. I go to John Kim everytime, though, for his bibim naeng myun, or spicy cold noodle with beef. "Number 19," I always say to the cashier, pointing to the menuboard picture above.

I wouldn't say it's eyes-roll-to-the-back-of-your-head good or anything, but it's certainly pretty damn decent. When California Market is the last stop on a long Sunday afternoon of dodging crowds and traffic while running errands and grocery shopping, a bowl of this sinus clearing stuff from John Kim is the perfect pick me up.

I always take mine to go because one, I don't want to be seen eating inside California Market and two, because well, where would I leave my cart? Of course I could shop after I eat, but you know, I'm just not that smart. So I bring the to go box home with me, having to endure the smell of red pepper paste, sesame oil and cucumbers the entire car ride.

Mr. Kim is practical--he always wraps my noodles in a plastic bag before it goes into the takeout container, helping to prevent any unfortunate spills in the car and also allowing the ingredients to marinate a little more until I get home. I wish I owned one of those cool metal bowls that these types of noodle dishes usually come in at the restaurants, but I don't, so instead, I dump the bag of noodles into the next best thing--a white Corning Ware bowl with little country prints on the side--and cut the noodles with kitchen shears to make them a little easier to pull apart. And with bowl and a bottled water in hand, I always head over to the TV to enjoy my fiery afternoon meal. I will admit that taking the noodles to go takes slightly away from the perfect chewiness these types of buckwheat noodles, but they do have a pretty good pull regardless. The spiciness is certainly appropriate though--not quite an immediate tongue numbing spiciness, but a spiciness that starts more salty at first, a wonderful blend of red pepper and sesame oil, and then slowly creeps up on you the more you eat--perfect for eating while cussing out all the stupid girls on My Super Sweet Sixteen.

Fifteen to twenty minutes into the meal, I'm all worked up, on one hand sweating because of the noodles themselves, and on the other, shaking my fist at all the underage primadonnas on the screen in front of me. Fortunately for me, there is always a good amount fo cooling acoutrements that always come with bibim naeng myun. There are cooling, thinly sliced cucumbers, as well as julienned pickled carrots and daikon, but what is probably the most unique item in this dish are the paper thin wedges of crisp, sweet Korean pear. Slices of beef and half a boiled egg add lend some neutrality (as well as protein) to the dish.

By the time I'm done, my belly is full and my nose is running, and yet again, I let a man whose name I don't even know make me cry. Thanks alot, John Kim.

John Kim at The California Market
450 S. Western Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90020

Fight The Power

2006-04-22T19:40:00.000-07:00

Ever since my friend Sam sent me this link the other day, I have felt a newly found sense of empowerment. I thought I was alone in my disgust, but come to find out that there are others, in fact, who are just like me:

"What kind of culinary fascism is this?" -Roving Thundercloud, Portland, OR

"I had the immediate sensation of licking a 9 volt battery" -Rob, Buffalo, NY

"People will say, 'There's cilantro in this? I can't tell, I can't taste it.' That's akin, in my opinion to stating, 'My arm is on fire? Hmm, I can't feel it.' " -Anonymous

"Though I hate cilantro I can acknowledge, but not condone, its existance in culinary dishes of such countries such as Thailand, Mexico, Spain and India to name a few. However, under no circumstances whatsoever should cilantro ever be found in Japanese food. It was such an instance at a local restaurant that I found cilantro in my miso soup. Is nothing sacred?" -Pandora, Austin, TX

If you are anything like me, I urge you--please join to support the fight against this vile weed.

(Image courtesy of www.ihatecilantro.com)

TJ's Taste Test, Part 9 Of Many: Trader Giotto's Cacciatore Simmer Sauce

2006-04-19T20:27:00.000-07:00

I gave Joe another chance.

But I should have known better. Penne pasta and sliced chicken breast cooked in a little heating dish at the Trader Joe's sample stand would just not be that good. But I gave it a chance because it surely smelled good as my cart and I turned the corner coming out of the frozen section. So I left my cart off to the side and walked up to the nice lady who handed me a small paper cup into which she had just scooped some of that tomatoey pasta concoction. I saw the stack of jars on the counter: "Hmm, Trader Giotto's Cacciatore Simmer Sauce, eh?" I pranced back to my cart excited to try my sample, and as I pushed along started taking small bites. It was a complete watery mess, tasting as if someone had just boiled the chicken in the sauce and then dumped a bunch of slimy penne into it. There was no depth, no dimension, and undeniably, I walked out of Trader Joe's that day with a cart full of hummus and chips and dip and salad dressings and cheeses and wine but sans Cacciatore Simmer Sauce.

If there's one thing I can recognize in people, places and things though, it's potential. And on another recent trip to TJ's, I realized that I may not have given our little jar of simmer sauce enough of a chance to prove itself. This time, I did walk out of Trader Joe's with a cart full of hummus and chips and dip and salad dressings and cheeses and wine and yes, a jar of Trader Giotto's Cacciatore Simmer Sauce.

The first thing I knew to do on this simmer sauce makeover was to actually brown the meat, (duh) so in went my chicken pieces into my trusty Le Creuset Dutch oven. I took the chicken out after a few minutes, and as the usual demented thought of "How sick do you think I would get if I took a bite out of that chicken right now?" ran through my head, I deglazed my pot with chicken stock, scraping up all the yummy crispy browned bits. I returned the chicken (which I did not take a bite of by the way) into the pot, poured the jar of deep orange red simmer sauce in, added a little salt & pepper and let simmer until the chicken was tender.

For the final reveal, I spooned the some chicken and sauce over a bed of lingune, garnished with a parsley sprig, and violà! You could hardly recognize him! The smokiness and saltiness from the browned chicken bits actually enhanced the celery and olives that were in this tomato based sauce, and the fat off the chicken skin lent the sauce some body. With a little faith (and some proper braising), I turned this ugly duckling into somewhat of a swan.

Pick up your own jar of Extreme Makover DG Edition at your local Trader Joe's for only $2.99.

Check, Checkmate!: The Bishop Coffee and Gourmet, Downtown Los Angeles

2006-04-17T22:18:00.000-07:00

If anyone had asked me to live in Downtown L.A. fifteen years ago and I would have asked them to pound sand. In fact, if they had asked me only five years ago, I would have done the same. But let's just pretend that this person were a friend who just happened to have a loft hookup and approached me and Isaac three years ago with a sweet deal on a 1400 sq. ft., 14' ceilinged space...

Three years later, we are still living in Downtown L.A.

But to be honest, I don't love it. I don't hate it. But I don't love it either.

I love it because our apartment is so spacious and we're getting a pretty darn good deal on rent. I hate it because living in a big open space isn't all it's cracked up to be. There is no room to retreat to if my fiance suddenly gets on my nerves, and the fact that all our workout equipment is out in the open is simply tacky.

I love that I have all of the Little Tokyo's good eats practically right at my doorstep, but I hate that the act of shopping for decent food and groceries involves at least a ten minute drive. (OK, so there is Mitsuwa and Marukai which are great for Japanese products, but I refuse to buy anything else there unless I'm desperate enough to pay a higher price)

I love that there's some interesting architecture here in downtown, but I hate that crack addicts and homeless people are permanent fixures in my neighborhood. I love that downtown is convenient to the 101, 5, 10 and 110 freeways, but I also hate that my street is a thoroughfare for 18-wheelers. It's kinda cool when you constantly see your 'hood on TV and in the movies, but it is sooo not cool that these production assholes think they own the neighborhood and make you detour an extra 5 blocks just to get home. (No fuck-face, you don't live here, I do.)

I remember my friend driving Isaac and I to see our new building for the first time, and I clearly recall being just a tad freaked out by the surroundings. Am I that much of a priss, you ask? Well really, no, I am not--I spent many years hanging out in big cities where vagrancy is a common thing--I just don't want to see it right outside my window. My knowledge of Downtown L.A. at that time was limited pretty much only to Chinatown, Little Tokyo, the courthouses, the garment district, and the Staples Center; I knew that somewhere in between all of that was the infamous skid row, which isn't where our building is located, thank goodness, but was close enough to our neighborhood to leave visible traces here and there. But as we kept driving, I also started to notice that hip new businesses had taken root in the neighborhood. My mind turned away from the riff-raff (if only even for a few minutes) and to the cool places I had yet to discover. If it hadn't been for places like Cafe Metropol, Pete's Cafe & Bar, Freaks Vintage Clothing, Blooms General Store, Groundwerks Coffee, and Soul Folks Cafe--places that made me feel as if I actually had a neighborhood--I'd have thought twice about moving in.

The loft-living honeymoon is over you might say, but although cursing the inconveniences of living here under my breath has become a normal routine, I still get excited when I discover that a cool new shop or restaurant has opened up in the 'hood. It brings back memories of the wooing and courtship stage when all things loft were fun and exciting, when you'd still call up your friends and say "Hey, wanna come check out my loft?" and people would ooh and aah about the fact that you lived in a converted warehouse. Yes, this is exactly why I got the warm-fuzzies when I first laid eyes on one of downtown L.A.'s newest cool neighborhood businesses, The Bishop Coffee & Gourmet, located on Grand Ave. at 8th. It's one of those places you'd spot as you were driving around as a prospective loft dweller, and it's one of those places that would help you make the deal in that wishy-washy head of yours.

And I'm not just saying this because The Bishop's owner Suze is a dear friend of ours, the same friend, in fact, who got us the deal on the place we're living in now. I'm saying this because it's true. Sure, The Bishop provides local downtown office drones with their daily cup of joe and breakfast pastry, but unlike the hundreds of other coffee houses in the vicinity that provide the same service, The Bishop isn't just your typical shut-down-at-6-and-closed-on-the-weekends-because-all-the-workers-are-gone type of places. For a while, being downtown after hours or on weekends was a bit like being in a live version of Dawn of The Dead, where virtually nothing was open and only the freaks came out at night. But now, places like The Bishop actually cater to us people that live here, helping us remember what civilization was like. Want to grab some coffee and dessert at 11pm on a Saturday night? No problem, they've got it.

Suze hard at work behind her coffee grinder

If it's neighborhood you want, it's neighborhood you get. The Bishop's turquoise blue painted space may be tiny, but it just adds to the cozy neighborhood feel of the place. A mannequin coiffed in jet black braids--a hip, modern version of Gilligan's Island's Maryanne--hangs out on her vintage bicycle on a ledge atop the cafe.

Hey, where's Ginger?

Service here is not only friendly, but personable. All it takes is one repeat walk through their single glass paned door and chances are Suze and daughter Bri will already know you by name. "Tall," "Grande," and "Venti" from that Star place are sooo yesterday; here, you can order your Pasquini latte, cappuccino or espresso in "Pawn," "Bishop," or "King" sizes. You can order your drinks with extra shots, squirts of chocolate or caramel, hazelnut syrup, no foam or non-fat--she'll make 'em for you however you'd like and again, will mostlikely remember what you ordered the next time you come in, or at least remember that your picky, high-maintenace ass wanted something special. If you're like me and coffee's not your thing and tea is more your cup of tea, The Bishop carries an assortment of Harney and Sons teas with such flavors as African Autumn, Chinese Flower, Peaches and Ginger and Indian Spice. Just ask and Suze and staff will let you take a quick whiff of all the yummy tea blends they've got in their tea cannisters before they pour hot water onto your pretty little organza wrapped tea bag of choice.

Wakes me up before I go-go

Tea time!

For breakfast, dessert, and everything in between, The Bishop features breads by La Brea Bakery and pastries from Hollywood's Susina Bakery. The minature molten chocolate cakes have become a staple in our diets as have the bad-for-my-arteries-but-oh-so-addicting sun-dried tomato, caramelized onion and feta croissants. If you're looking for something a bit more substantial, they carry a selection of sandwiches made fresh daily such as curried chicken salad with apples and currants, (my personal favorite), Bri's ham & brie, and genoa salami, pesto & provolone. Grab a seat at one of the brightly colored sidewalk tables and watch the world go by as you enjoy a polenta scone or maybe even a slice of ham and swiss quiche.

When "flaky" is good

I love Curried Chicken Sammiches

Quiche me

But trying to find a friendly neighborhood cafe that's open late night and on weekends isn't your only problem, you downtown dweller, you. No, as a hip urbanite, you've got other problems. You've just been invited to a friend's house for dinner and oh no! you've got nothing to bring for your gracious hosts! There are no extra bottles of wine sitting on your wine rack, and after several scrounging attempts in your cupboards, you can't find a single thing to take with you, unless of course, the canned raviolis you bought from Costco count. And you know they don't, so what do you do? Fortunately for you, The Bishop is half coffee house, half interesting-packaged-foodstuffs store. Your host will definitely appreciate getting a nice basket filled with the likes of Stonewall Kitchen Rasperry Peach Champagne Jam and Maple Vanilla Pear Butter. They can also create quite a nice arrangement with La Favorita Fish and Bella Cucina Artful Food pestos and sauces along with some of the prettiest rainbow striped farfalle. Or perhaps your guests would appreciate a box of the most interesting pyramid shaped silken tea infusers by Tea Forte. The Bishop has Scharffen-Berger chocolate bars, and jars filled with cinnamon bears, candy necklaces, jawbreakers and um, trail mix--probably the only thing I don't quite get about their merchandise assortment, but to each her own I guess.

for all your gourmet needs

Where to buy Rastafarian pasta? Downtown!

Whatever your fancy, it's cool 'cause you don't have to fucking drive to Silverlake just to buy something nice. Hey, you're stuck downtown for at least the next several months until your lease is up right? So you might as well make the best of it, and trust me, The Bishop makes downtown L.A. just that much cooler and more convenient to be in. Almost makes you wanna stay huh?

Well...

The Bishop Coffee & Gourmet
816 S. Grand Ave.
Los Angeles, CA 90017
(213) 239-0411

Happy Blog Birthday To Me: Daily Gluttony Turns One!

2006-04-05T22:34:00.000-07:00

Aww look, it's baby's first birthday, and my how she's grown!

If Daily Gluttony were a baby, people would surely be throwing her a big party with cake, balloons, and party streamers. She'd be sitting in a high chair while someone took photos of her with baby food smeared all over her face, totally clueless to all the festivities around her. But since Daily Gluttony is not a human baby, there will be no people throwing her a party. There will be no balloons and no streamers. So, in order to celebrate, she will throw a party for herself, complete with cake and candle, and maybe even a glass of wine. That is, of course, if wine is OK for a one year old.

You'd be surprised how many similarities there are between our cuddly, diapered friends and this blog, however. First of all, it seems like just yesterday when Daily Gluttony was conceived out of sheer boredom. (Like that's never happened to anyone before.) And second of all, she has developed quite a bit in just one year. In the beginning, the little tyke was just trying to find her way, and so began her early months with super-random posts about weekend to-do lists, A.D.D. in meetings, mustard whores, grilled cheese sandwiches, and guillotine cars. She couldn't take a decent food photo to save her life. She was also trying to keep up with the pressure of posting daily to live up to her name and at one point even considered changing her name because she thought it was false advertising.

But it wasn't long before Ms. Poopy-Pants started growing up and figuring things out. Her mind matured into a more reasonable one, and her writing during this development stage became a learning process. She learned to take better pictures of her food. (Oh, you mean I just have to use this flower button???) Her already keen epicurean senses soared to different heights as she began to focus on trying cuisines she'd never tried before. Trips to the grocery store began to take twice as long due to wandering eyes scoping out a wealth of new foods and products. And simple drives down the street opened her eyes to a world of undiscovered eats. She came to the full realization that the true meaning of "daily gluttony" was not that she had to post something daily, but that her actual obsession with all things edible is a never ending story and thus, kept her birthname.

Time flies, but it's amazing how much can happen in just a year. With her fiery personality, she's made some enemies, but more importantly, she's made some invaluable friends, even if only through cyberspace. She became engaged to the love of her life, a man who just happens to also be a gnome-killer. She's hired quite an adorable (but drunkard) sous-chef. She got a new job around where she's slowly starting to explore restaurant options, but misses her old stomping grounds and epicurean-parnters-in-crime dearly. She is now the big sister to an alien lemon, and as of 7 days ago, an auntie to a beautful human baby girl.

She also felt like the whole world was crumbling around her when she discovered that her father had cancer, but is learning how to cope with the physical and emotional side effects that are affecting everyone involved. But she has become a stronger person from it--one who has learned that there's nothing more important in life than love.

A year ago, she would have never made a special trip after work just to go buy a slice of cake to photograph for a birthday post. (OK, so it came from Vons for $2.99, so what?) One year and 225 posts later, she would. Happy Birthday, Daily Gluttony...make a wish and blow out your candle!

Hi, My Name Is Daily Gluttony, And I Am A Sushi Addict: Sushi Komasa, Little Tokyo

2006-04-02T11:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks alot, Kirk. Thanks alot for fueling my sushi addiction so badly with your post on Sushi Gen that I couldn't stop thinking about sushi for the last three days. What can I say, I'm a sucker for peer pressure.

Except I wasn't get my fix from that sushi dealer. A short supply of seats, it seemed. I called at noon to find out they only had a 5:30 pm reservation available. And we all know what the wait is like at Sushi Gen without a reservation.

By the time evening rolled around, my mind instantly went into search mode, and with shaky fingers I started dialing frantically to find someone nearby who would be able to accomodate me. "Hi, do you have a wait right now???" my voice cracked as I dialed Izayoi, and was told we'd have to wait about 15 minutes. So I had to get my goods from a lesser known, less refined and more inconspicuous guy located down the street who just happened to say they'd be able to take us right away.

The thought of going to Sushi Komasa was like the thought of going to Van Nuys instead of the Hollywood Hills to score. There's nothing to this small, older storefront located on Second Street in Little Tokyo except for a lighted sign on the sidewalk. Its windows are covered with paper screens and though I'd passed by several times, I've never been able to get a good glimpse of anything going on inside. The only clue that maybe they've got decent goods is the constant small crowd of people waiting outside. Oh yeah, that and a positive post from Kirk, our local sushi peer pressure pusher. My skepticism about the place was somewhat quelled by stepping inside the restaurant, which was a rather teeny tiny space with a small sushi bar and about five tables. It wasn't so much the atmosphere because, well, there really is none, but more so because the place was pretty full for a weekday night.

Like the restaurant itself, Komasa's sushi list is pretty no-nonsense, and as is the case with many sushi bars, there were no daily specials that we were aware of. A simple, but comprehensive list was what we got, and we filled it out quickly. Besides sushi, Komasa has a menu of other selections such as appetizers and bento combinations--we chose to try some chicken karaage and fried oysters to go with our sushi.

Feet tapping nervously with sweaty hands clasped under the table, we studied the several seafood posters they had on the wall in order to distract us and make the time go by faster as we waited for our fix. "Hmm," I thought to myself, "now I can be an expert at the different types of crab, and red fish, and shellfish, and...WHAT?? WHY ARE ALL THE FISH NAMES IN JAPANESE??? AND WHY IS EVERYONE AROUND US CHINESE?" At that point, I knew I really needed help. Is there such a thing as S.A.--Sushi Anonymous?

Not very addict-friendly reading

But finally, they delivered the goods. As the waitress placed a round lacquered box of pristine looking nigiri in front of us, self control was key...we want to get the most out of this sensory altering experience, but at the same time, we wouldn't want people to think poorly of us, would we? So with sound body, but very unsound mind, we carefully picked up our first pieces of nigiri, dipped it ever so slightly into our soy sauce and took the first bite. Total euphoria ensued and self control went down the drain.

Komasa deals some good stuff...

Komasa's fish was extremely fresh, breaking into buttery softness with each bite. My favorite was probably the hamachi (yellowtail) whose seductive mellowness reeled me in from the first bite. Thinly sliced scallion and grated ginger atop our seared albacore nigiri as well as the slightly smoky flavor of sake (salmon) sushi provided an interesting edge to the meal. My only complaint was that our maguro tuna was a little too much on the cold side, but with the overall excellent sushi high we were on, it wasn't that big of a deal.

Perhaps it was because we were already in fantastic altered states, but although the dark meat chicken they used to make their chicken karaage was a bit on the dry side, its crispy marbled- looking batter coating had a nice milky saltiness to it and gave it somewhat of an addictive quality. The fried oysters we ordered, however, were just not good--obviously from a jar and a little tough in some parts--and would not be forgiven in spite of our state of mind.

I think they put drugs in this too

Sushi high or not, these sucked

Sushi Komasa is not the clean cut, yuppified sushi dealer that many of us feel more comfortable with based on looks alone; he's is the older guy whose place you have to walk to the back of the 1970's fourplex to get to and that's OK. Because the older, unrefined guys have some pretty good stuff too. And this older guy charges less too...about $50 after tax and tip for all this food. Oh, and one more thing: don't expect to find any of that trendy, designer sushi here, either. Sushi Komasa deals in the traditional stuff that is tried and true. As always, you just have to trust your gut.

I just wonder when the withdrawal is going to kick in.

Sushi Komasa
351 E. 2nd St.
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 680-1792

Daily Gluttony's Secret Weapon

2006-03-31T10:39:00.000-08:00

Either I really have a death wish or I really don't give that much of a hoot about my job because I have an important meeting with the president of our company today at 1 o'clock...

...and I brought kimchee, amongst other garlicky things, for lunch.

Now you tell me, should I do the gum & mints? Or not?

Hangovers, Broccoli, and Gnomes--Oh My!

2006-03-26T13:11:00.000-08:00

George the Gastro-gnome had a bit too much to drink last night. He went out with the guys and didn't get home until 5:15 am this morning.

Which is why he doesn't have much energy to fulfill his sous-chef duties today. In turn, I decided to keep things simple. I found a broccoli salad mix by Eat Smart at Costco that I thought would go well with some sandwiches.

"George, can you get up for a second so I can show the nice people what the box looks like?"

Hesitantly, George rolled his stumpy little self off the box and staggered off to the side.

"You think you can manage making the broccoli salad while I make the sandwiches? All you have to do is mix everything together," I asked him.

He was on his back, eyes closed, mouth agape. Suddenly he turned his little head, stared at me and said, "Fuck you."

Allrighty then. I guess I'm making lunch by myself.

I guess I should have left poor George alone. All I had to do was mix some broccoli florets, shredded broccoli stalks, carrots and red cabbage, sunflower kernels, bacon bits, dried cranberries. and some sick looking mayonnaise based dressing together and it was done. It was something that was simple enough to put together myself, but everything came in a nice little box for $5.99, and it was perfect for a day like today where convenience was key. The dish was reminiscent of a cole slaw but more texturally interesting because of the broccoli florets, nuts, and cranberries, and also had a nice smoky tinge from the addition of bacon bits.

"George, do you want some?"

No answer.

"George??"

He'd disappeared from the kitchen and into the bathroom where the horrors of last night's festivities were coming back to haunt him. I guess I'll have to save a plate for him. Poor guy.

Vocabulary Lessons: Red Corner Asia, Thai Town

2006-03-25T20:03:00.000-08:00

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do think I have a pretty good command of the English language. Uh, that is until I've eaten at the second restaurant in two weeks whose name contains the word "corner" and isn't located on a corner.

Now that I think about it, maybe it was those stupid Princeton Review SAT classes that my mother sent me to when I was in high school. Yeah, the Princeton Review. For SAT's. Where every Saturday morning for like two months we'd go to this community center in Berkeley and listen to this hippie chick with hairy armpits talk about the best ways to use process of elimination. They did teach us some Latin word roots, but my thing about vocabulary is that if you don't know it, you don't know it. Like they're really going to teach you the whole dictionary in 30 hours of class.

"Do you guys know what a conflagration is?" Hippie Chick asked.

The class looked puzzled.

"It's just a big mother fucking fire!" she exclaimed.

I'll give Hippie Chick credit for that, because to this day I've never forgotten what a conflagration is.

OK, so though I've done quite a bit of reading in my lifetime, vocabulary has never been my strong suit. I don't like to use it; in fact, I think my brain has a natural block towards big, flowery words. Hey, but I did score in the 1300's on my SAT's, not too shabby, huh? Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to get me into what the Chinese call See-tahn-faht (Stanford) or Hah-fuht (Harvard). Sorry Mom, I know you meant well. But I did manage to get into UCLA, right? And I know what a conflagration is!

Well you'd think that I'd know what a corner is too. Because that word is not too fancy. Last week, I tried to make some sense of a Korean resaturant's claim that it was "The Corner Place," when it was undoubtedly not located on a corner. This time, I visited a fairly new restaurant in Thai Town named Red Corner Asia that only scored two out of three on first impression. Because it's Asian, but it's not red, and it's not on a corner or in a corner. Perhaps it was called such because it has corners?

If it wasn't my vocabulary that improved after going to Princeton Review and college, then at least I can say that I developed a some impeccable research skills and a fine knack for getting to the bottom of things. It would be this same knack that would lead me to the restaurant's website where I would finally find some truth. Here's what it said:

Red represents love, good fortune, Thai red chilies and the red-hot flame of our BBQ grill.

Corner is a place to sit and relax in comfort with friends and family.

Asia comes from our unique blend of Asian foods that you will love at RCA.

Red Corner Asia (RCA) is a place for you and your loved ones to relax while enjoying the finest Thai and Asian dining experiences.

OK, see? Explanations! That's all I ever asked for!

But it wasn't like I didn't enjoy my dining experience at Red Corner Asia. I'm just a little obsessive freak, that's all. In fact, I've been there three times in the last few weeks if that tells you anything.

When Isaac and I go out to dinner together, we sometimes want atmosphere and good service, and hence, we know we have to pay a higher price for it. Other times, we want our bill to total less than 15 bucks and so going to a dumpy-dive is OK. What's cool about Red Corner Asia is that there's somewhat of an atmosphere and great service all for a little more than dumpy-dive prices. Located in Thailand Plaza, a mini mall that's home to such places as Ruen Pair, the Thai dessert place Bhan Kanom Thai, and the old home of singing Thai Elvis' Palms Thai, Red Corner Asia is the perfect location for a cheap date. The clean and spacious interior is painted in warm, contemporary tones. Dim lighting during dinner and the soft sounds of bossa nova or crooner vocals even make the place somewhat romantic, at least by Thai Town standards. Now you know I like the typical Asian greasy spoon as much as the next guy, but it's always nice to have options when you just don't feel like dealing with oil slicked floors, sticky menus or grease-filmed tables.

Your Not-So-Typical Thai Town joint

Speaking of sticky menus, two pages of mine were stuck together the first night we tried Red Corner Asia, and not two seconds later, a waitress zipped by to bring me a new menu and to apologize for the condition of the first one. The restaurant's owner, a really pleasant mannered Thai gentleman, also made sure to ask if we enjoyed our visit as we were getting ready to leave. He obviously didn't recognize me the second time I went to the restaurant to pick up a takeout order because he asked me if it was my first time at the restaurant, but no matter--the point is that he cared to ask, right? And as if they didn't already win the "Wow-No-One-is-Ever-This-Nice" award, they even brought me an ice water as I waited for my order. On our most recent visit, they gave us nothing less than decent service, and yet apologized to us for the slow service due to being short staffed. Now normally I'm skeptical of people that are too nice, but I've observed the folks at Red Corner Asia interacting with their customers and they're actually just...nice. Imagine that.

The food here isn't the best Thai food I've ever had, but it's pretty darn decent. I'd give their pad thai about a B+ which is an outstanding accomplishment in itself because you'd be surprised how many places fuck up such a simple dish. Red Corner Asia's had a good balance of sweet and sour flavors as well as a good ratio of noodles to other ingredients (meat, or in my case, fried tofu, as well as peanuts, beansprouts, etc.). I only wish the dish was just a smidgen more on the dry side. But that's just me, and all in all, they do a pretty good pad thai.

This earned a 3.3 GPA

As is with all Thai restaurants that offer a "choice of meat" with their a la carte items, the quality of the meat is always so-so, it's whatever's around the meat that you have to pass judgement on. Not surprisingly, the beef that we chose to go in our panang curry was a tad on the tough side, but the sauce itself was delicious. Along with the choice of meat, Red Corner Asia also gives you a choice on their spicy foods as to how how spicy you want it. We ordered this dish "medium spicy" and were quite pleased at the nice kick that the creamy coconut-milk based curry had.

Panang-alang-a-ding-dong

"But why don't you want it spicy???" I whined to Isaac as he ordered a fried rice. I wanted the restaurant's Spicy Fried Rice with chili & basil, but as we had already ordered the panang curry, he wanted something a little more tame, and so I let him order a regular combination fried rice. The rice was fluffy and seasoned well, the pieces of chicken and pork were tender and the shrimp were pretty plump. A little generic I'll say, but it was good in a very basic kind of way.

Keep it simple, stupid

With the restaurant's papaya salad with blue crab, though, I got my wish as far as spiciness is concerned. It was the first time I'd ever tried green papaya, a food that I'd been very hesitant to try since yellow papaya has always smelled and tasted like ass. My brother was the one to reassure me otherwise. "No, trust me," he said, "green papaya is nothing like yellow papaya. It does not taste like ass." I also ordered this dish medium spicy and thank goodness I ate it at home because what I got was a conflagration in my mouth. But I kept eating it and eating it because it was just so damn good--refreshing, crunchy shreds of papaya, long beans, and a wedge of cabbage tossed with chiles, fish sauce, dried shrimp and whatever it is that they use for heat. The raw blue crab was fresh and whatever bits of crab meat we had the patience to pick out were good, but we could have done without it. Nothing against the crab; we're just lazy. By the time we were done, I think I had downed two huge glasses of water. Talk about a huge mother fucking fire.

Apparently, this is what a conflagration looks like

As with their pad thai, I wish their chicken pad kee mao and Chinese broccoli with crispy pork were a wee bit less on the saucy side. I also wish they offered their pad kee mao with ground chicken rather than regular slices of meat; I like the contrast between the little tasty bits of meat and the wide sheets of spicy noodle and chunks of bell pepper better. Despite the lack of ground chicken option and the slight oversaucing, their pad kee mao was nevertheless tasty. Same thing with the Chinese broccoli dish...the chunks of fried pork belly were perfect--fried to hardened perfection on the outside and revealing a nice smoky tenderness on the inside, a layer of crispy but luscious fatty skin to top it all off. Having that wonderful slight bitterness, the Chinese broccoli was the perfect combination of crunchy and leafy. And the sauce...well, it was perfect for eating with warm and fragrant jasmine rice, but the amount was in my opinion just over the "little too much" mark. I had to drain some of it out of the take out box when I got home. It made for one hell of a tasty leftover lunch the nest day though.

Oooh, saucy...

And you are quite saucy yourself

What I wasn't too thrilled with were the restaurant's angel wings (sorry, no picture!) of deep fried boneless chicken wings stuffed with glass noodle, ground pork and onion. The wings definitely looked better than they tasted, and they tasted, well, bland. A few swipes in the dish of bright red sweet & sour sauce helped but not by much.

Red Corner Asia's menu is pretty comprehensive and even includes some "Thai with a twist" dishes such as Kung Pao Pasta, Thai Style Sukiyaki, and a dish they call Volcano Chicken which consists of a whole roasted chicken served on a flaming platter--a chicken conflagration of sorts. I don't know if I'll be trying these anytime soon--I think I'll stick to the more traditional Thai dishes--but it's nice to know they're available.

I could go on and on with words and descriptions about this place, but all I have to say is that after three visits with tasty food and excellent service, Red Corner Asia is a pretty fucking good deal. Is there a word for that?

Red Corner Asia
5267 Hollywood Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90027
(323)466-6722
www.redcornerasia.com

Kiss Me, I Cooked Irish: Daily McGluttony's Corned Beef and Cabbage

2006-03-20T22:04:00.000-08:00

I remember it clearly, though perhaps not so fondly. It was March 17, nineteen seventy-mbghppphr, and I was being pinched to death at laughed at by my second grade classmates because I didn't wear green for St. Patrick's Day. In order to save me from more physical and mental bruises, my teacher was nice enough to cut a square of green construction paper and pin it to my sweater. "It's St. Patrick's Day, dear, you have to wear green otherwise you'll get pinched!" I wondered why my mother hadn't told me this when she helped me get ready for school that morning, and when approached about it after I got home that afternoon, she was more clueless than I was.

I forgave my mother because even though I was a little tyke, it was obvious to me that this was just another one of those Western traditions that my old school Chinese parents just didn't follow. We had all the Chinese New Year bases covered, that's for sure. I had all of those traditions pounded into my head since birth, but St. Patricks Day? Eh, not so much.

So it came as a big surprise, then, when Mom & Dad busted out with the corned beef and cabbage on the same day that their kid endured a torture that would scar her for the rest of her life. I'd never had it before, so curiously, I asked about the hunk of pink meat and cabbage wedges that sat in the Corning Ware on the table. "It's corned beef and cabbage," they explained, "people eat it for St. Patrick's Day."

Huh???

So let me get this straight. You let your kid go to school green-less so as to be harassed by mean children, you've never heard of the wearing green thing, but you do know about corned beef and cabbage? Talk about being scarred for life.

I ate the dish of confusion with trepidation, but liked it, the fatty, salty meat blending so well with the leafy texture of the boiled cabbage. Of course, our family ate it with rice, which was perfect after the grains had soaked up some of the juice from the brisket. As years went by, I never, ever forgot to wear green on St. Patrick's Day again, my family continued the annual tradition of cooking their corned beef and cabbage dinner, and I came to figure out that it was not so much St. Patrick's Day that they were celebrating, but the fact that corned beef brisket and cabbage are dirt cheap the week of March 17th. The whole family was fed well for like 2 bucks and that, my friends, is always reason for celebration.

As I grew older and started living on my own, I continued the tradition of cooking corned beef and cabbage every St. Patrick's Day for a group of friends. This year, of course, was no different except for the fact that we cooked our brisket two days after the fact due to our recent busy schedules. I didn't even get a chance to go shopping for my annual dinner until last Thursday the 16th, and pulled my hair out driving around Alhambra trying to find a brisket. Albertsons was sold out, the Alhambra Vons had closed down permanently, and third store, Max Foods--some ghetto grocery store on Valley--finally had what I was looking for. And it wasn't even the cheaper, $0.69/lb point cut brisket...that had sold out and all they had left was the $1.99/lb flat cut brisket. I had a tradition to uphold, so it would have to do. With two heads of cabbage at $0.25/lb, I still got out of the market for under ten bucks, but was a little bummed that I couldn't do it for under 5 or six dollars like I normally do. Geez, the influence parents have on you!

Corned beef and cabbage is probably one of the easiest meals to make. Just put the bloody brisket into a large pot with the enclosed seasoning packet, cover with water, bring to a boil, and reduce heat to simmer for about 2 hours or until tender, adding water if needed. Remove brisket from water and "dry out" in a 300 degree oven for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, add cabbage wedges to brisket water and boil until tender.

Bloody brisket anyone?

Although I did make a pot of rice to go with the dinner, I cooked some roasted red potatoes seasoned with olive oil, dijon mustard, garlic, rosemary and thyme for the starch part of the meal. The crispy skinned potatoes provided some nice body to round out this ultimate comfort meal.

You say potato, I say cheap dinner

Isaac and our friends were very satisfied, and me even more so because I was able to feed five people for about ten bucks, keeping the family tradition very much alive.

Four-Play: Four Things Meme, L.A. Style

2006-03-16T21:17:00.000-08:00

Should I even be participating in this "unlucky number" game? Well, I'm not that superstitious, so here goes:

Four Jobs I've Had In My Life In L.A.:
1) UCLA dorm cafeteria worker--pure slavery. How dare they put a petite 5'3" girl on "pots duty" by herself? Fuckers.
2) Retail Bitch
3) Information Systems Lackey
4) Merchandise Planning Ho

Four Movies About LA I Could Watch Over And Over:
1) Swingers
2) L.A. Story
3) Clueless
4) Go

Four Places I've Lived All Over L.A.
1) Westwood--when it was still happening and Contempo Casuals was in the Eurochow dome
2) Culver City/Palms
3) Koreatown--aah, how I miss the sound of the tamale lady and the produce truck
4) Downtown--cool, but not as cool as everyone thinks

Four LA-Themed Shows I Love(d) To Watch:
1) Six Feet Under
2) Curb Your Enthusiasm
3) Beverly Hills 90210 (shut up, you know you watched it too)
4) Three's Company (so what if the Regal Beagle didn't really exist?)

Four Places I Would Vacation At In LA:
1) Are you kidding me???

Four L.A. Based Websites I Visit Daily/Frequently:
1) Franklin Avenue
2) The mouthwatering food blogs on my blogroll
3) Los Anjealous
4) Go Fug Yourself (not necessarily LA based, but its about fugly celebs so it's gotta be at least 90% LA, right?)

Four Of My Favorite Foods Found In LA:
1) Daikoku Ramen and gyoza at Daikokuya, Little Tokyo
2) Hummus and cabbage salad at Skaf's Lebanese Grill in North Hollywood
3) Diddy Riese cookies in Westwood
4) Chinese broccoli w/ crispy pork belly at Swan Thai, North Hollywood

Four Places In LA I Would Rather Be Right Now:
1) Back in the Valley having lunch with my old work chums.
2) At UCLA, if I were learning. I miss academia.
3) Anywhere near the water as long as it's clean and not crowded.
4) My house.

I think everyone's already been tagged for this, so I'm leaving that alone. Thanks Yoony of immaeatchu for tagging me!