Now at supermarkets in Japan.
No tea whisk necessary.
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
High Tea at the Mandarin Oriental
It's official. I love tea at Mandarin Oriental.
I'm going to let the photos fend for the culinary reasons, but, you know what, afternoon tea is not so much about the food but the experience. You're there to soak up a little peace of mind, bask in the moments that leisurely pass by, and be treated like... well, like a guest at a five star hotel! And that brings me back to... one of the reasons I liked the hotel right away (other than the fact that it is a five star. I know, so hard to like.) was that it was very Tokyo. It is located in Nihonbashi--the center of the city--but its presence is not obvious from the street as it occupies the top floors of a business tower. The entrance is not bold, either, but the details let you know your pampering has begun. As you walk past the front desk and wait for the elevator to take up upstairs, you may notice the faint fragrance of luxury--did you know that hotels have signature scents?
Oh, High Tea at the Mandarin Oriental, let me count the ways...
Pictured is a chocolate scone, there was also plain.
But just look at how they were served...
These are definitely two of the best seats in the house.
Ask for the seats by the window to make your visit even more breathtaking.
High tea? 4,000 yen.
Feeling Five Star? Priceless.
Go.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
地鳥大根うどん
Wow--gorgeous in looks and taste. The chicken was meaty, juicy and melt-in-your mouth good. The two daikon pieces were huge, which is great, but soft from being steeped in broth and seasonings for pobably an hour or so. There was even a large carrot which had also been pre-cooked and was just as good. Gorgeous orange color.
The broth and udon were less impressive. But I am biased.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Unexpected Coffee Break 2
On Sunday the haru-ichiban winds were out of control. (Haru-ichiban are very strong, slightly warm gusts of wind said to be the start of spring. Think: Mary Poppins.) They stopped traffic, literally, halting and delaying JR trains all across Tokyo. Of course, as God (or Murphy or Christophe) would only have it, Ninapod and I were scheduled to arrive for luncheon (that was on purpose--a mere lunch? No, this was a *luncheon*) at a long-time family friend and former neighbor's house about an hour away. In fact, this was even a rescheduled luncheon from two weeks prior when a (get this) a snowstorm (in how many years in Tokyo??) intercepted our gathering, icing the roads and even making sure Nina caught a cold.
The journey one-way took just over two hours. As I waited for a train to get ready I ducked into an adjacent Doutour cafe and ordered a matcha latte, my recent drink of choice. The verdict: It is better than Starbucks'. I like lattes scalding hot and this was unexpectedly so, without me asking the barista for it to be. The matcha syrup was not too sweet and the dollop of cream and sprinkle of real matcha powder on top was fun. It was the perfect coffee break for a windy day when everything is unexpected.
Photo: As I waited in line I noticed little bags of dried fruit selling for a few hundred yen.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Power Shortage and an Unexpected Coffee Break
Just as I was tranfering train lines at Iidabashi today, a man's voice announced the electricity had gone out on the trains. Luckily it was a mere 5-10 minutes until the power came back, but unsure of how long I'd be standing waiting and since I was not rushing anywhere I took refuge at a small Starbucks within the station.
I had an iced coffee and a small-ish sandwich, one half filled with a crunchy (cucumber?) potato salad, and the other a slighty soggy-ed shrimp and tomato combination. As is usually the case in Japanese sandwiches, the bread was nothing special.
I always enjoy coffee breaks, all the more if they are unexpected. And I'm also always surprised at how unimpressive food is at Starbucks in Japan, especially considering the plethora of good food available on almost any budget level everywhere else in Japan (except sandwich bread). What's up??
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Din Tai Fung
You know you're lucky when your favorite restaurants are also cheap date locations. I am one of these people who (or perhaps Tokyo is one of these cities where) to satisfy my tummy, you don't need a lotta munny. Din Tai Fung, originally from Taipei, is one of those joints. Heck, I've already been there twice this year! Unfortunately neither times were with a date. But anyway...
What is Din Tai Fung? It's where they serve the most delicious shoronpo in the world. The store made its international debut over 10 years ago, unveiling its flagship store within Shinjuku Takashimaya. What was then a small eatery tucked between a gift shop selling soap, and some kitchenware pots has since expanded to dozens of stores across Japan, China and the US.
Amazingly, a 30 minute wait is still considered relatively short at many of these locations today. The little steamed sacs of juicy minced pork are full of clear, rich broth ; Place a few thin strands of flavored shredded ginger on top and... Well. That's a sure way to woo me, and girlfrien' I'm not even tryii' to sound Chinese (snap snap).
First-timers, fret not. Although eating these delicate morsels of BLISS might sound complicated (soup? pork sacs? I don't get it), there is a friendly laminated illustrated guide that explains these steps on each table.
➀ Pour soy sauce vinegar (they already mixed them up for you) onto your small dish of ginger strips.
➁ As soon as steaming hot shoronpo are brought to you, gently pick one up by the pinched area of skin on top (where the dough overlaps), and crate it over to your ceramic spoon. Note: The skin of these dumplings is very thin, so if you are too rough or let the dumpling cool, it will stick to the bottom of the steamer and rip, spilling the precious, precious soup.
➂ By now you will notice that I am completely not following The Friendly Laminated Guide For How To Eat Shoronpo, but who gives, my way is just as good. Once the dumpling is safely nestled into its mini-tub, take a few strands of ginger placing it on top of the shoronpo. Just the right amount of soy sauce and vinegar will trickle down into its folds and crevices. Immediately break the skin on the lower side (where it's thinnest) and let the precious (precious) soup flood into your spoon. Wait a split second to cool to slightly less than scalding and sip longingly. **BLISS**. Note: Shoronpo has a very short life span. For most of its life it's either too hot or too cool, with the exception of an approximate 14.7 second interval where it is immaculate. But that's all you get, 14.7 seconds.
➃ After you've drank the soup, tip the deflated shoronpo into your mouth--ginger and everything--in one bite. Savor. Repeat. This is no time to be dainty or polite, as your friends will be vultures as soon as they realize how good these dumplings are.
See, I blinked and four shoronpo disappeared.
Two other dishes that are must-haves here are the hot and sour soup "san raa tan", and the chinese noodles topped with deep fried pork cutlets called "pai kō men".
I used to be a hot and sour soup fiend. Now I am a paiko men DEMON. It is so good. Just look at how beautiful it is!
This is one restaurant where you can eat to your heart's content and just barely top ¥5,000 for two. That's including a drink or two. To quote a South Park character that I saw while on vacation over the holidays: Nicccccceeee.
Til nextweek time, Din Tai Fung...
小龍包 steamed pork dumplings
酸辣湯 hot and sour soup
パイコー麺 Chinese noodles with fried pork cutlet
Din Tai Fung 鼎泰豊
5-24-2 Sendagaya, Shibuya-ku Tokyo 151-8580
(12F, Shinjuku Takashimaya Department Store)
T/ 03-5361-1381
www.dintaifung.com.tw/en/index.asp
What is Din Tai Fung? It's where they serve the most delicious shoronpo in the world. The store made its international debut over 10 years ago, unveiling its flagship store within Shinjuku Takashimaya. What was then a small eatery tucked between a gift shop selling soap, and some kitchenware pots has since expanded to dozens of stores across Japan, China and the US.
Amazingly, a 30 minute wait is still considered relatively short at many of these locations today. The little steamed sacs of juicy minced pork are full of clear, rich broth ; Place a few thin strands of flavored shredded ginger on top and... Well. That's a sure way to woo me, and girlfrien' I'm not even tryii' to sound Chinese (snap snap).
First-timers, fret not. Although eating these delicate morsels of BLISS might sound complicated (soup? pork sacs? I don't get it), there is a friendly laminated illustrated guide that explains these steps on each table.
➀ Pour soy sauce vinegar (they already mixed them up for you) onto your small dish of ginger strips.
➁ As soon as steaming hot shoronpo are brought to you, gently pick one up by the pinched area of skin on top (where the dough overlaps), and crate it over to your ceramic spoon. Note: The skin of these dumplings is very thin, so if you are too rough or let the dumpling cool, it will stick to the bottom of the steamer and rip, spilling the precious, precious soup.
➂ By now you will notice that I am completely not following The Friendly Laminated Guide For How To Eat Shoronpo, but who gives, my way is just as good. Once the dumpling is safely nestled into its mini-tub, take a few strands of ginger placing it on top of the shoronpo. Just the right amount of soy sauce and vinegar will trickle down into its folds and crevices. Immediately break the skin on the lower side (where it's thinnest) and let the precious (precious) soup flood into your spoon. Wait a split second to cool to slightly less than scalding and sip longingly. **BLISS**. Note: Shoronpo has a very short life span. For most of its life it's either too hot or too cool, with the exception of an approximate 14.7 second interval where it is immaculate. But that's all you get, 14.7 seconds.
➃ After you've drank the soup, tip the deflated shoronpo into your mouth--ginger and everything--in one bite. Savor. Repeat. This is no time to be dainty or polite, as your friends will be vultures as soon as they realize how good these dumplings are.
Two other dishes that are must-haves here are the hot and sour soup "san raa tan", and the chinese noodles topped with deep fried pork cutlets called "pai kō men".
I used to be a hot and sour soup fiend. Now I am a paiko men DEMON. It is so good. Just look at how beautiful it is!
This is one restaurant where you can eat to your heart's content and just barely top ¥5,000 for two. That's including a drink or two. To quote a South Park character that I saw while on vacation over the holidays: Nicccccceeee.
Til next
小龍包 steamed pork dumplings
酸辣湯 hot and sour soup
パイコー麺 Chinese noodles with fried pork cutlet
Din Tai Fung 鼎泰豊
5-24-2 Sendagaya, Shibuya-ku Tokyo 151-8580
(12F, Shinjuku Takashimaya Department Store)
T/ 03-5361-1381
www.dintaifung.com.tw/en/index.asp
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Renkon Mentai
I love lotus root. They're crisp like autumn apples when chopped, and hearty like tororo (grated naga imo, or yam) when grated. Renkon (or lotus root) has a wonderful texture either way, and due to the lack of strong flavor it works well with many different ingredients. I like to chop it up in bite-size pieces and toss it with a rich mentaiko (spicy cod roe) sauce. This is an easy side dish and is great cold, making it an ideal make-ahead-and-let-sit-in-fridge-til-dinner/potluck dish.
Lotus root will start changing color if you let it sit out for too long, ruining the presentation of its almost porcelain-like appearance. So before you start chopping the holey root, let it sit in a mixture of vinegar and water for about 5 to 10 minutes. You should peel the skin with a peeler first.
While it's soaking, prepare the sauce. Scrape the roe from one large or two medium-sized mentaiko sacs. You should make a a long insertion length-wise, spread the two halves so the skin is touching the cutting board, and scrape out the roe with the dull end of a knife, or a spoon. If you are gentle you will not break the membrane. For some reason, I find a squeeze of lemon juice on the mentaiko aids in smooth scraping of the roe.
After you have enough mentaiko (and "enough" depends on how much you like these little eggs!), mix it with the same amount or less of mayonnaise (this, too, depends on how much you like mayonnaise; less mayo and more mentaiko is the way I like it). The mentaiko is salty enough so you won't need any salt for taste.
Let the sauce sit and return to the soaking lotus root. Cut them in bite size pieces, even thin slices. Boil a large pot of water and carefully dump the chopped roots into the boiling water. Let boil for about 3-5 minutes (even less if you've sliced the roots)--that's it! You don't want to lose the delicious crunch of these vegetables by cooking them too long. Taste one after a few minutes and when you feel they need another minute, that's when you should take them out. Because you will...
Use a strainer and allow the roots to cool naturally--do not cool them with water. Right after you have strained them, squeeze half a lemon (or more, if you like lemon! I'm really roundabout with my measurements, aren't I??) to slow down the color-changing process. They might get a bit purple-ish where the lemon has not touched. Although they are "cooling", since they are still hot they will continue to cook slightly. This is fine.
After maybe about 5 to 10 minutes, when they are still warm to hot to the touch, toss them with the mentaiko mixture. You should do this while the renkon are still warm so the mayonnaise kind of melts and sticks to the root.
To garnish, use chopped green onions and toasted sesame seeds. You might want to wait to put them on until they are ready to be served.
This is a delicious dish and makes such a beautiful presentation that it will surely be a hit at any dinner table or party! Try it!
レンコン明太 renkon mentai
とろろ grated yam
長いも naga imo
レンコン lotus root
明太子 spicy cod roe
I think I see Tim Burton in there...
Friday, September 7, 2007
Yanaka Coffee
A recent excursion into the Yanesen* area (a triangular section of northeastern Tokyo, the three points being Yanaka, Nezu and Sendagi) found me a damn good coffee shop. I define damn good coffee shop as a) delicious b) reasonably priced, and c) good vibes. And if they roast your beans for ya too, well, you just earned yourself some extra credit, mister!
The iced cafe au lait at the top of this post (I think they called it iced milk coffee here) was about ¥250, if I remember correctly, and was very good. While I sipped on it I browsed the 30+ coffee beans from around the world on display, chose 200g of a Columbia extra dark blend (¥1,080), and watched them roast the beans in their roaster. It takes 20 minutes, the lady told me, so I left to take a walk aroound the neighborhood.
When I returned, a warm bag of aromatic, almost chocolatey beans were waiting for me, which perfumed my handbag quite nicely for the remainder of the evening, thank you very much.
Look for this kind of entrance with dark wooden planks, spot lights and large script characters that spell out the cafe's name, やなか.
* Yanesen is perfect for a day-off or afternoon adventure. For a better explanation of the area and some very sound recommendations for spots to visit, refer to this Metropolis article.
谷根千 yanesen
Yanaka（やなか)
Sendagi Shop
2-31-3 Sendagi, Bunkyo-ku
T 0120-(877)-281 F 03-5815-8982
www.yanaka-coffeeten.com
Koiwai Gourmet Fan
...is expensive. At ¥349 a carton, it's like Christmas Day compared to the economical ¥149 Bulgaria ones. But, man it is soo good! Over coffee and a splurge over the G.S.* recently, I seriously contemplated this tendency of mine to not purchase regularly the Gourmet Fan due to the additional ¥200--and then weighed it with the joy that very same ¥200 buys me when I have a carton of it in my fridge. And guess who won? Yes, peeps, it's Christmas Day every day now!!
On the whole, Japanese yogurt is all delicious and far superior, I hate to say, to their American cousins (Tokyolites, what do you think?). The reason is simple: it is not pasteurized to death. I think in the US there are extremely strict regulations on pasteurizing dairy, and in Japan, not. (I'm not sure if there have been problems arisen from that.) So anyone who ever lands in Japan, the first thing I enthusiastically recommend you do is buy yourself some yogurt--any yogurt--and bask in its deliciousness. You will thank me. Or the yogurt company, that's fine too.
My favorite yogurt in the world (not even exaggeratin'!) is this Gourmet Fan. The stuff is made with fresh cream! How can you go wrong??
The thickened yogurt on the edge of the carton is the best.
* Oh c'mon. The Good Shit!
小岩井プレミアムクリームヨーグルト グルメファン Koiwai Premium Cream Yogurt Gourmet Fan
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Curry Dorayaki
Soooo sorry for the long absence, readers!! >_< The heat, it seemed, affected my ability to blog. That, or Facebook (it's all close call).
*****
Dorayaki are two palm-sized castella pancakes that sandwich something sweet, traditionally anko, or sweet red bean paste.
● Castella itself is sweet spongy cake* (traditionally Spanish and/or Portuguese in origin but now a ultra-standard Japanese sweet which can be found virtually anywhere from fairs, conbini's to depa-chika's**), brought over by Portuguese merchants in the 16th century to Nagasaki, the international trading port at that time. Even today, it is said that the best castella in Japan come from Nagasaki.
● Anko, is made by boiling heaps of azuki beans, dumping in what should be illegal amounts of sugar, and then mashing them all up until they are of your desired consistency (chunky? Smooth? Who knew Skippy had such a global perspective on his recipes?), and then cooled. Anko is used in a plethora of Japanese sweets (I'm not even exaggerating. Go ahead, count 'em! One plethora, two plethora, three plethora...). The funny thing is, lots of people don't like anko, because--here's the paradox of the century--it's too sweet. Even for Japanese people, and they're the ones who are all "ooooh, milk shakes, it's just sugar!" or "M n M's?! How can you eat so much chocolate it's so sweet!" It's like, harrro! Have never had anko you crazy person? That stuff is like diabetes to go. And the icing on the cake, of course, is that we sandwich anko with castella. (I recommend green or hojicha tea straight-up as your accompanying beverage.)
So, me. I am not a huge fan of anko, so dorayaki is something I don't buy for myself unless my Japanese sweet tooth is begging for it (my left is Japanese, my right is American). But over the summer a friend kindly brought with her extra-special dorayaki, each with a different filling including custard, pumpkin, the standard anko and--whaaat's this??--curry. As a certified, die-hard, no-nonsense curry freak (not to mention castella fan), I was elated when nobody claimed the curry dora-chan as their own and I was left to taste-test it. Dear God, please don't let it be a sugared-up curry! ...I thought, truthfully, just as I unwrapped it. But on the other hand, I was just as anxious about it being a regular salty curry sandwiched between castella.
Oh hell with it, just bite into it already!!
The only-mildly spicy curry was complemented well by slivers of almonds--it all worked to be classifed, still, as a sweet! And definitely a stylish omiyage (souvenir/gift) to give. (Especially when they are assorted so well. Thank Kahori!!)
Oh readers, you are going to kill me, I have no idea where they are from!! I'm pretty sure its in the Nihonbashi/Mitsukoshi-mae area. Anyone who finds out, do let me know!!
* To be absolutely fair, castella deserves to be called more than "cake". In fact, it's one of the best things in the world. And as a true castella lover, I'd like to refer you to the outstanding video illustrating the process of making this cake by Fukusaya, hands-down my favorite castella maker in Japan. And now I see why they're so great; they have robots working for them!! Human-looking ones!!
** Depa-chika are department store basements--"chika" in Japanese--and that's where the Japanese goverment hides all the good food from the North Koreans. Just kidding, but that is where all the good food is. From bento to deli items to designer fruit baskets to Belgium chocolates to wagashi, it's all here.
どら焼き dorayaki
あんこ anko
カステラ castella
デパ地下 depa-chika
*****
Dorayaki are two palm-sized castella pancakes that sandwich something sweet, traditionally anko, or sweet red bean paste.
● Castella itself is sweet spongy cake* (traditionally Spanish and/or Portuguese in origin but now a ultra-standard Japanese sweet which can be found virtually anywhere from fairs, conbini's to depa-chika's**), brought over by Portuguese merchants in the 16th century to Nagasaki, the international trading port at that time. Even today, it is said that the best castella in Japan come from Nagasaki.
● Anko, is made by boiling heaps of azuki beans, dumping in what should be illegal amounts of sugar, and then mashing them all up until they are of your desired consistency (chunky? Smooth? Who knew Skippy had such a global perspective on his recipes?), and then cooled. Anko is used in a plethora of Japanese sweets (I'm not even exaggerating. Go ahead, count 'em! One plethora, two plethora, three plethora...). The funny thing is, lots of people don't like anko, because--here's the paradox of the century--it's too sweet. Even for Japanese people, and they're the ones who are all "ooooh, milk shakes, it's just sugar!" or "M n M's?! How can you eat so much chocolate it's so sweet!" It's like, harrro! Have never had anko you crazy person? That stuff is like diabetes to go. And the icing on the cake, of course, is that we sandwich anko with castella. (I recommend green or hojicha tea straight-up as your accompanying beverage.)
So, me. I am not a huge fan of anko, so dorayaki is something I don't buy for myself unless my Japanese sweet tooth is begging for it (my left is Japanese, my right is American). But over the summer a friend kindly brought with her extra-special dorayaki, each with a different filling including custard, pumpkin, the standard anko and--whaaat's this??--curry. As a certified, die-hard, no-nonsense curry freak (not to mention castella fan), I was elated when nobody claimed the curry dora-chan as their own and I was left to taste-test it. Dear God, please don't let it be a sugared-up curry! ...I thought, truthfully, just as I unwrapped it. But on the other hand, I was just as anxious about it being a regular salty curry sandwiched between castella.
The only-mildly spicy curry was complemented well by slivers of almonds--it all worked to be classifed, still, as a sweet! And definitely a stylish omiyage (souvenir/gift) to give. (Especially when they are assorted so well. Thank Kahori!!)
Oh readers, you are going to kill me, I have no idea where they are from!! I'm pretty sure its in the Nihonbashi/Mitsukoshi-mae area. Anyone who finds out, do let me know!!
* To be absolutely fair, castella deserves to be called more than "cake". In fact, it's one of the best things in the world. And as a true castella lover, I'd like to refer you to the outstanding video illustrating the process of making this cake by Fukusaya, hands-down my favorite castella maker in Japan. And now I see why they're so great; they have robots working for them!! Human-looking ones!!
** Depa-chika are department store basements--"chika" in Japanese--and that's where the Japanese goverment hides all the good food from the North Koreans. Just kidding, but that is where all the good food is. From bento to deli items to designer fruit baskets to Belgium chocolates to wagashi, it's all here.
どら焼き dorayaki
あんこ anko
カステラ castella
デパ地下 depa-chika
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Hinaya
My father is from the southern tip of Okayama prefecture in central-east Japan, right across from the large island Shikoku and home to the Mecca of sanuki udon, Kagawa prefecture. Udon are fat white noodles made of flour and often served in a lightly seasoned fish broth, served hot or cold. As with many other foods and dishes in Japan, the way they are served/prepared/made differ by region, and sanuki udon is thought to be the simplest and often best way to eat udon, especially by udon aficianados. Being as flexible as he is, my dad does justice to both the die-hard sanuki men (oh, ha ha! Men means noodles in Japanese!) and the city-slicker type at his udon restaurant in Akasaka, Hinaya.
Photo courtesy of Metropolis
Kijōyu udon is an orthodox and old-skool way to eat sanuki udon. It consists simply of freshly boiled noodles (dunked in ice water to as soon as they're just the right state of al dente to keep the koshi*), and garnished with a raw egg yolk, a splash of a soy sauce mixture and a few spice condiments called yakumi, like chopped scallions or sesame seeds, and finito. Break the yolk, toss it with the noodles and it's almost like a Japanese carbonara.
* Koshi refers to the elasticity of Japanese noodles, describing the state when it satisfies all of the following: firmness, suppleness and bouciness, especially as they go down your throat, as you don't "chew" Japanese noodles so much as swallow them. Scout's honor. Actually, udon is much more about the texture than the flavor.
Hinaya also serves it with natto, or fermented beans, for those of you who can stomach it. For me, this is the perfect breakfast. Egg! Noodles! Natto! What's not to like?
But of course my favorite all-time Hinaya udon (and the shop's #1 menu item) is the curry udon. The only vegetables that go into the roux are onions and carrots--which are sauteed until they are soft and sweet, and then pureed. The puree, curry spices and water are boiled for hours until the roux is rich and thick, at which time she meets her soulmate, the smooth and elegant otsuyu, or dipping sauce, and poured over oodles of noodles. It's a match made in heaven, and if not heaven, at least the greater Tokyo area. Served with a soft-boiled onsen tamago egg, yakumi and toasted abura age (fried tofu, prounounced "a-gé"), it's addictive.
(Does this portraiture shot convey my love for this dish? I love you, curry udon.)
Other popular udon are goma dare udon, or cold udon with a savory and creamy sesame dipping sauce, and kama tama udon, served piping hot in the water they were boiled in. It's hard-core and authentic. Or something. Lunch sets at Hinaya are ¥900 (including your choice of udon, the daily rice, and two side dishes).
Oh, and by the way, my dad makes everything fresh, including the udon noodles. From the flour to the salt to the water to the width they are cut, they all have to pass dad's test, every day. The noodles themselves are vegan--flour, salt and water are the only three ingredients that go in.
麺 men
生醤油 kijōyu
コシ koshi
薬味 yakumi
納豆 natto
おつゆ otsuyu
温泉たまご onsen tamago
油揚げ abura age
ゴマだれ goma dare
Hinaya （日南家)
2-14-7 Akasaka, Minato-ku
T/F 03-3583-0178
http://akasakahinaya.blogspot.com
Kijōyu udon is an orthodox and old-skool way to eat sanuki udon. It consists simply of freshly boiled noodles (dunked in ice water to as soon as they're just the right state of al dente to keep the koshi*), and garnished with a raw egg yolk, a splash of a soy sauce mixture and a few spice condiments called yakumi, like chopped scallions or sesame seeds, and finito. Break the yolk, toss it with the noodles and it's almost like a Japanese carbonara.
* Koshi refers to the elasticity of Japanese noodles, describing the state when it satisfies all of the following: firmness, suppleness and bouciness, especially as they go down your throat, as you don't "chew" Japanese noodles so much as swallow them. Scout's honor. Actually, udon is much more about the texture than the flavor.
Hinaya also serves it with natto, or fermented beans, for those of you who can stomach it. For me, this is the perfect breakfast. Egg! Noodles! Natto! What's not to like?
But of course my favorite all-time Hinaya udon (and the shop's #1 menu item) is the curry udon. The only vegetables that go into the roux are onions and carrots--which are sauteed until they are soft and sweet, and then pureed. The puree, curry spices and water are boiled for hours until the roux is rich and thick, at which time she meets her soulmate, the smooth and elegant otsuyu, or dipping sauce, and poured over oodles of noodles. It's a match made in heaven, and if not heaven, at least the greater Tokyo area. Served with a soft-boiled onsen tamago egg, yakumi and toasted abura age (fried tofu, prounounced "a-gé"), it's addictive.
Other popular udon are goma dare udon, or cold udon with a savory and creamy sesame dipping sauce, and kama tama udon, served piping hot in the water they were boiled in. It's hard-core and authentic. Or something. Lunch sets at Hinaya are ¥900 (including your choice of udon, the daily rice, and two side dishes).
Oh, and by the way, my dad makes everything fresh, including the udon noodles. From the flour to the salt to the water to the width they are cut, they all have to pass dad's test, every day. The noodles themselves are vegan--flour, salt and water are the only three ingredients that go in.
麺 men
生醤油 kijōyu
コシ koshi
薬味 yakumi
納豆 natto
おつゆ otsuyu
温泉たまご onsen tamago
油揚げ abura age
ゴマだれ goma dare
Hinaya （日南家)
2-14-7 Akasaka, Minato-ku
T/F 03-3583-0178
http://akasakahinaya.blogspot.com
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Poll
Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll!
You said you wanted to hear about restaurants in Tokyo and more about the healthy, low-fat Japanese diet and lifestyle. Also, you wanted recipes on simple, easy and delicious Japanese food. No problem!! I'll keep those themes in mind for subsequent posts. Thank you.
Peach
My favorite fruit is in-season. The peach. Fleshy, juicy, sweet and fragrant, I especially love it when the skin peels off large and easy.
Unfortunately I only have so-so fruit markets near my house. As I'm a huge fan of fresh fruit (as you all should be, too) I'm often stuck between a rock and a hard place in Japan with designer fruits on one hand and inconsistent quality at mediocre neighborhood options in the other. In fact one of the things I miss most about Seattle and the States is the abundance of fresh, affordable produce everywhere, and if not everywhere somewhere relatively closeby: at the QFC, and if not there at PCC, and if not there at the farmers' markets, and if not there at the little trucks by the sides of the road (especially around this time of the year) and if not there at Metropolitan Market where they will probably grow that pelican mango for you if you're willing to pay them for it. Hmm, speaking of produce trucks by the side of the road.... Bing cherries!! Handfuls and handfuls of ripe, juicy, dark sweetness! Man, I miss being able to eat cherries until I feel ill. Damn.
Ah hem. Yes, fruits in Japan. Thankfully, there is one good fruit and produce market near my work. Although it is a privately owned business, it--as well as most other produce markets or greengrocers of the same nature--is referred to as the yaoya, or greengrocer. (Like the post office. Or the pool.) After purchasing the perfect peaches above (four of them) for just 400 yen, I think I'll be stocking up on my daily fruits not at home but at work from now. The friendly ojisans and obasans and one-sans at the yaoya make for a pleasant shopping experience, anyway, which just makes the purchase sweeter.
I still miss the Bing cherry trucks though. For now, a sweet, sweet memory.
八百屋 yaoya (greengrocer)
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Espresso Bar Madeleine
On the way back from our healthy-for-the-mind and healthy-for-the-body Saturday afternoon brunch at Mother Esta, we stumbled upon this cute little VW Bug Citroën 2CV (thanks eshibui!) of an espresso bar--with passerby's lined up for their coffees, but curiously no one in the driver's seat. (Literally and figuratively, folks.)
Upon closer inspection, we identified the barista...
...scrunched between the trunk, the roof, and the seat dividers. He also appeared to be the owner, and uncomfortable.
Service at Espresso Bar Madeleine is (not unsurprisingly) laid-back. If there are folks before you, you wait an extra five minutes to get your order in. But who gives, on a Saturday afternoon? If you do, you should not be in Naka-Meguro, period. Go to Shinjuku or something.
Also, Madeleine passed my iced Americano test, which is less like a test and more like a regular order of an iced Americano. (I just said it to sound cool.) Though I will drink a crappy Americano over no Americano any day, I always prefer a well-thought out, lovingly-brewed one, and am willing to pay my way for it. You see, I am from Seattle. (For those of you who get it, go ahead and skip to the next paragraph.) We have Starbucks on every face of a city block and a small business-operated cafe on every outer-city block (that or a Tully's). And most of them know exactly what they're doing. Some people say Starbucks' coffee is overroasted--not me. And I love, especially, the fresh bitterness of an iced Americano, two shots of just-brewed espresso poured over ice and then splashed with ice-cold water. That is a good iced Americano. Starbucks (usually) does it, Javasti does it and, well, almost any other cafe I frequent (-ed) does it right--in Seattle. I can't say the same thing about cafes in Tokyo, but thankfully enough cafes here serve excellent brew. Madeleine included.
I was actually doubly surprised at Madeleine; first by how cold the Madeleine barista was able to get it (I confess--I was expecting it to be luke-warm coming from a car at 2pm in July), and then at the balance of bitterness, sourness and deliciousness the drink provided. But what was even better was my friend's uji matcha latte. First the uji matcha was froathed with milk. Then the espresso was brewed into another cup. Finally, the barista gave my friend both cups and had her pour one into the other.
Pretty awesome! Now, the whole process from Americano to uji matcha completion took about eight minutes and on a Monday morning I'd perhaps border getmemyfrigginlattehomeboy, but this was Saturday afternoon, and Naka-Meguro. So my friend and I were charmed (though she may be on a Monday morning as well). What won me over completely was that the uji matcha foam was not sweetened, as many green-tea latte mixtures can be (tsk, tsk, tsk). He served both our drinks with bite-sized Japanese Meiji chocolates, complementing our coffees. We had a few minutes to chat with the owner and as he never came out of his shop/car, he mustn't have been as uncomfortable as I initially suspected. He's along the Meguro River every day except Mondays, so make sure to stop by next time you're in town.
Apparently the owner/barista bakes/serves extra extra chocolat cookies in the winter time, and something tells me they'll be more rich and dreamy than sugary. Can't wait.
宇治抹茶ラテ Uji matcha latte
明治チョコレートMeiji chocolates
Espresso Bar Madeleine
Along the Meguro River, click here for map
T 090-3500-0560
http://madeleine2.exblog.jp
Upon closer inspection, we identified the barista...
...scrunched between the trunk, the roof, and the seat dividers. He also appeared to be the owner, and uncomfortable.
Service at Espresso Bar Madeleine is (not unsurprisingly) laid-back. If there are folks before you, you wait an extra five minutes to get your order in. But who gives, on a Saturday afternoon? If you do, you should not be in Naka-Meguro, period. Go to Shinjuku or something.
Also, Madeleine passed my iced Americano test, which is less like a test and more like a regular order of an iced Americano. (I just said it to sound cool.) Though I will drink a crappy Americano over no Americano any day, I always prefer a well-thought out, lovingly-brewed one, and am willing to pay my way for it. You see, I am from Seattle. (For those of you who get it, go ahead and skip to the next paragraph.) We have Starbucks on every face of a city block and a small business-operated cafe on every outer-city block (that or a Tully's). And most of them know exactly what they're doing. Some people say Starbucks' coffee is overroasted--not me. And I love, especially, the fresh bitterness of an iced Americano, two shots of just-brewed espresso poured over ice and then splashed with ice-cold water. That is a good iced Americano. Starbucks (usually) does it, Javasti does it and, well, almost any other cafe I frequent (-ed) does it right--in Seattle. I can't say the same thing about cafes in Tokyo, but thankfully enough cafes here serve excellent brew. Madeleine included.
I was actually doubly surprised at Madeleine; first by how cold the Madeleine barista was able to get it (I confess--I was expecting it to be luke-warm coming from a car at 2pm in July), and then at the balance of bitterness, sourness and deliciousness the drink provided. But what was even better was my friend's uji matcha latte. First the uji matcha was froathed with milk. Then the espresso was brewed into another cup. Finally, the barista gave my friend both cups and had her pour one into the other.
Pretty awesome! Now, the whole process from Americano to uji matcha completion took about eight minutes and on a Monday morning I'd perhaps border getmemyfrigginlattehomeboy, but this was Saturday afternoon, and Naka-Meguro. So my friend and I were charmed (though she may be on a Monday morning as well). What won me over completely was that the uji matcha foam was not sweetened, as many green-tea latte mixtures can be (tsk, tsk, tsk). He served both our drinks with bite-sized Japanese Meiji chocolates, complementing our coffees. We had a few minutes to chat with the owner and as he never came out of his shop/car, he mustn't have been as uncomfortable as I initially suspected. He's along the Meguro River every day except Mondays, so make sure to stop by next time you're in town.
Apparently the owner/barista bakes/serves extra extra chocolat cookies in the winter time, and something tells me they'll be more rich and dreamy than sugary. Can't wait.
宇治抹茶ラテ Uji matcha latte
明治チョコレートMeiji chocolates
Espresso Bar Madeleine
Along the Meguro River, click here for map
T 090-3500-0560
http://madeleine2.exblog.jp
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Mother Esta (She's Getting Married!!)
But I certainly did not suspect such a thing... not one morsel. After all, she was the one who was so adament about wanting to not get married. What was the point, she challenged, to shackle up a good thing? Why not let the good run it's course, why encourage premature death?? She, the one who dated her now (as of today!) husband for ten years and never once referred to him as her boyfriend. Boyfriend? C'mon, he was more than that. He was her water, her air; she couldn't live without him, and so that, was that.
So when I met her for lunch at Mother Esta, Naka-Meguro's organic cafe and restaurant, I was in for more than just a culinary surprise.
It started with carrot potage, as many things really often should.
Followed by an organic vegetable salad, starring little daikon radishes that look like little swollen ankles, carrots, slices of zucchini, leaves of mustard greens and arugula, topped with a drizzle of blue cheese dressing.
I did not appreciate the pre-poured dressing, as I often prefer salad without dressing. Its only redemption was that it was good, at which time I got more use out of the accompanying gravy boat of remaining dressing. But, Mother Esta, you really should consider having all dressing accompanied--especially if we're talking about one who's as choosey with her friends (and vice versa), like, ahem, blue cheese dressing. (With whom, I would just like to point out, I am the best of friends.) (But, say, what if I was on a diet? Or I didn't care for rotting cheese? What if??)
Actually, this was basically my meal. For a steep ¥1,600, I had ordered the Mother Esta Soup & Salad lunch--but keep in mind, the ingredients are all organic. But also keep in mind, I am a carnivore. OK, OK, but we'll also keep in mind the honorable mentions! With my slightly (to me, anyway) pricey lunch were served a fantastic glass of iced coffee, hard and chewy bread with olive oil...
and a chilled banana bread dessert--and I don't even like bananas!
Shocking, I tell you. How far organic vegetables have come since the days of the over-priced, awkwardly-placed (right next to the $1.99/lb Granny Smiths would be the $3.99/lb organic Grannies), new-kid-on-the-block era at our local grocery stores. Now they've opened restaurants! In Tokyo!!
And think how much else has changed since 1997, with all of us, including my dear friend. (Who is not named Esta, by the way.) She was with her husband then, too, but with no intention of signing a marriage contract. What changed? In her own words, she realized that marriage was a declaration of strong feelings toward one another in that moment. What happens tomorrow is irrelavant, as the question really is, what can't happen in 24 hours? No, what we need to focus on is what is special to us now. And that, well! That, to her, was as clear as air.
Congrats, you two.
大根 daikon radish (Japanese radish)
Mother Esta
2-20-14 Aobadai, Meguro-ku
T/F 03-5724-5778
http://www.mother-esta.com
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