May Vegetables

One week in early May, I found ramps in two local markets.  Within days they were gone.  The season was over.  We also had the last of local fava beans and asparagus before the month was over.  Now I have to wait for next spring.  

Raw ramps have a garlicky aroma that disappears when cooked.  Their leaves are tender, stalks crunchy, and the flavor delicate.  Ramps are probably the best wild field greens (a.k.a. weeds) for eating.

–     ˜

Young fava beans less than a couple of weeks old can be eaten whole, pod and all.   But in May, I had to shell them and removed their skins before cooking them quickly in a large pot of boiling water.  The color of the cooked beans was an eye pleasing green.  Unfortunately some beans were broken into halves from the boiling.  I shall try steaming next year.

 

The fava beans were tender, nutty, buttery and almost sweet.  I ate a bowl of them.  Later I tossed angel hair pasta with fava beans, asparagus tips, Italian extra virgin olive oil – all the healthy things, and added crispy bacon.   Yum!

 

What made it special

It was the scallops that did it for me at Frank's, it's scallops that did it again for me at the Crown Princess Restaurant on Bay Street in Toronto.  The first time I had scallops at this location, they smothered them in XO sauce even though it's perfectly fresh scallop in the shell.  But I was pleasantly surprised when I returned and ordered scallops the "Chinese" way - stir-fried.  The wonderful thing was it's not your typical Chinese scallop stir-fry where the scallops were thinly sliced and often bland and tasteless. (The only tasty exception I'd encountered was in a Chinese restaurant in downtown Halifax, but then that's seafood heaven, it would be hard to botch although there is still not enough "bite" to the scallops when they are thin sliced.)  The ones at the Crown Princess are whole flavorful scallops, perfectly cooked and presented, with pine nuts, green onions and sugar beans for a contrasting crunch.

Not recommended: Scallops in XO sauce

Another dish, sweet and sour pork, considered unsophisticated fare, was unusually well-made at this same restaurant.  The pork was lean yet retained its moisture in spite of the double deep-frying needed to keep it crunchy under the sauce.  And consistent with the quality, served in style on two pieces of crisp pancakes with fresh pineapples and peppers. Let me add, the pancakes didn't survive the crunch test at the end of the meal but the one piece of pork left did.

Sweet and sour pork

Honourable mention went to the moist and tender chicken with crunchy skin, described literally as "hand poured" - a process that is quite complicated.  The chicken is first steamed so that it is cooked.  It is then dried and  then put on a rack over a pan of hot oil.  Oil from the pan is then scooped up and poured over the chicken to crisp its skin without dipping the whole chicken in oil.  This way, the skin is crispy but the meat is not greasy or dry.  In some restaurants, it's called "oil poured" but here it is called "hand poured", likely just a marketing thing to avoid mention of oil and to emphasize the "hand-made" aspect - as if anything cooked could be otherwise.

Crispy "Hand-poured" Chicken

Pumpkin Seafood soup with lots of seafood chunks

Bamboo fungus and bean curd sticks with baby bok choi

Plain tasty shrimp

Great presentations:  Fish and Chinese broccoli
                                                           Egg tofu with mushrooms and greens 

Presentation is a key part of the style but in the end, it's fresh ingredients that made the meal.      

Frank at the Art Gallery of Ontario

After a focused couple of hours at the Art Gallery of Ontario, taking in the shows Picasso: Masterpieces from the Musee National Picasso, Paris, and Zhang Huan: Ash Paintings and Memory Doors, we thought we would treat ourselves to dinner at Frank, the restaurant at the AGO.  What a superb dinner it was!

We started with two appetizers which we shared - perfectly done seared sea scallops wrapped in what looked to be Spanish prosciuto (they called it jamon serrano).  But what I really loved was the shaved asparagus.  I can't remember if I've had asparagus shaved lengthwise before, but this version is definitely memorable -  it's crisp and soft at the same time, a great textural contrast to the scallops.  I doved right into the scallop without taking a photo - borrowed the one below from the Frank website but it's really not the same dish.

Photo from the Frank AGO site

The salt cod croquetas were delectable, especially with the black olive tapenade.  This was followed by the seafood paella which was so flavourful I could easily have another plateful.  This must be the "haute cuisine" version of the paella, I've never seen such a miniscule portion of the rice dish!  The seafood were all done just right.  There were lots of bay scallops and enough mussels, but they could have thrown in a few more shrimps (they called the lone ranger a prawn, but it is really a shrimp).

We wrapped up dinner with a "tarta de santiago" which is really a flourless almond torte - great texture and not overly sweet.   The service was attentive and thoughtful - it was one of the better dinners we've had for a while.

A Bread Box

Half way into our lunch, a young cook brought a wooden box to our table.  She cautioned us, “be careful, it is hot”.  After she left, I touched the box.  It was indeed very warm.  I removed the lid.  Inside were two rolls on a piece of preheated slate.  The crust of the rolls was crispy, and the inside soft.  

 

Spring Goose

Among the first thoughts of spring are the foods that come along with it - asparagus, fiddleheads, and...er,  goose - yes, roast goose!  While Chinese BBQ roast duck is very common now in North American cities, roast goose is still hit and miss.  We have a favourite eatery where we regularly visit in the spring and fall for this delicious dish, one up from the ubiquitous roast duck.   I love it for its slightly gamey flavour and the thicker, firmer flesh.  That first bite into the inch thick breast meat is a sensation that can't be put into words.  This is no fancy eatery.  Just a stall in the food court in Markham Place in Markham, north of Toronto. Goose is not readily available in the average Chinese restaurant without pre-ordering.  


Here is an interesting set up.  There are two BBQ takeout stalls side by side in the food court.  Long lineup at one place, no lineup at the other.  Instinct is to go to the one with the long lineup.  But the first time we were there, we were attracted by the red sign that said in Chinese "Just in, fresh roast goose" and decided to take our chances with the stall with no lineups (not advisable generally).  We were pleasantly surprised; in fact, we have become regulars at Van's, especially during goose season, which starts in the spring around May, goes on for a couple of months until the young goose supply is gone.  The goose is plumper in the fall with even thicker flesh.  The season finishes around early November.  I have no clue how this jives with the breeding season of the bird but derived this just based on experience with disappointment when we would brave the weather to go up to Hwy 7 thinking of the roast goose only to be told by Van "that's it for the season".


We were up there looking for goose a few weeks ago and was told by Van to come back first week in May.  Today, we had our first bite of goose in 6 months.  It was worth the wait.

Van's BBQ Markham Place

Van proudly showing off the goose

Mmmm...

Now it would be interesting to hear comments from readers about their experience with roast goose in other parts of the world, China, Europe, etc.  

Oden Elevated to Great Height

The night before, we were in an exclusive bar in Gion drinking chestnut socchu.  Our hostess, a young woman with a degree in fine arts, kept us company with witty conversations.  Before we left, we asked her what would be a good place for lunch.  Seeing that she had trouble answering us (for there were many good restaurants in Kyoto), we asked her “where would you eat if it is going to be your last meal?”  Without hesitation, she said she would eat at a certain oden restaurant, and she added, “our mama-san will make a reservation at 12:30 tomorrow for you”.  I was surprised and muttered silently to myself – of all things, the cheap street food of simmering fried tofu, fish cake and daikon that salary men ate when they gathered to drink in the evening after work?

We arrived at the restaurant at 12:30 sharp.  There was a queue outside the noodle place next door, but the only sign that the oden shop was in business was the noren (welcome curtain) above its door.  Ototo popped his head in and conversed with a large man in a white cook’s uniform and came back out.  “Mama-san made a reservation for two and there is no room for the three of us”, he said.  My jaw dropped.  Wow, the place was full!  “But they will have seats for us in half an hour”, he quickly added.

The tiny restaurant had only eight seats at its “inverted L-shaped” counter.  We sat at the shorter side, overlooking the chef, his large tanks of oden, and two couples at the other side of the counter.  The woman of the older couple was wearing a kimono.  She must be an affluent lady as very few Japanese women had money and taste for kimono these days.

We followed Ototo’s suggestion to drink sake instead of socchu.  The server brought each of us an appetizer of raw fish tataki.  Then the chef, a small man with almost silver hair and fierce eyes, gave us his attention.  We could select five oden items at lunch.  Our first was an inch-thick disc of daikon topped with a ladle of beef braised in miso.  Hot mustard was put on the edge of each plate before their delivery.  As I could not eat daikon, I had a Kyoto ebi-imo instead.  My ebi-imo was six inch long, large and round at one end and skinny at the other, curving like a deep fried shrimp.  It was tender and tasty.  Even better was the beef, falling apart as I picked it up with my chopsticks.  Usually beef cooked this long tended to be tough, but not in this case.  The sweetness of miso was tempered and was in harmony with everything on the plate.

The next item was a cabbage roll larger than my fist, stuffed with chicken.  That I did not like much.  I was getting full but the chef was waiting for my next selection.  He picked out a piece of fish cake, a four inch square with thin edges and a bulged center, which he cut into four squares for me.  The surprisingly firm and bouncy texture testified to its excellent quality.  The presence of a couple of fine fish bones chopped so short that they were no bother   Earlier, I saw the woman in kimono, risking a spill, picked up her plate to drink the broth and sighed with pleasure.  I did the same thing and the chef gave me an approved look.

After a skewer of kinko nuts and a knot of konbu, I signaled no more food; I was too full to eat any more.  I have not known that oden could be so satisfying but now I know.