Southern Fried Chicken

I like fried chicken, a lot.  Most people would say that it is unhealthy.  I don’t think that is necessarily the case.  If the ingredients are of high quality, if excessive fat has been trimmed from the chicken, if the cooking oil is not saturated, hydrogenated or deteriorated from overheating or reusing, then it is not that bad in my book.  The key is to eat only good fried chicken and in moderation.

There are quite a few restaurants doing fried chicken right, and I eat in them.  I also make it at home, where I have more control of the ingredients and the cooking process.  The free range chicken, egg, and unbleached flour are organic.  Ritz crackers (or Hi Ho crackers) and cooking oil are not.  I cook with blended corn and canola oil simply because I have not figured out a better alternative.  

I do not deep fry.  That uses too much oil and deep fryer is hard to clean.  I prefer using a cast iron chicken fryer (basically a large skillet with tall walls) for making southern fried chicken.  It requires a relatively small amount of oil, just enough for it to be at mid-level of the chicken pieces in the pan.  

I made some southern fried chicken and a tomato corn salad the other night.  

My not-so-precise recipe:

1.       I use chicken thighs and drumsticks because I do not like eating white meat.  Leave the skin on, but trim off any loose skin and globs of fat on and embedded in the thighs.  Season the meat with a little bit of salt and black pepper.  Coat the pieces with flour that has been seasoned with salt and pepper (go easy on the salt) and let them rest.

2.       Finely grind the Ritz crackers, add to some flour and mix well.

3.       Beat an egg, and thin it with some water.

4.       Add less than an inch of oil into the cast iron chicken fryer.  Set the burner to medium. 

5.       Coat a small batch of chicken with the egg wash and then the cracker-flour mix.  When the oil is hot, fry the chicken pieces.  The oil should come up to the mid-level of the chicken pieces.  (I do not use a thermometer to check the oil or the chicken; very unscientific, I know).

6.       Turn the pieces over after ten minutes to check the color of the thin coating and to fry the other side.  Adjust the heat level if necessary.

7.       Continue to turn the pieces every ten minutes to cook both sides and to make sure that the pieces are not burnt.  Total cooking time: about forty minutes.

8.       Rest the cooked pieces on a rack to cool and to drip off excess oil.

9.       Place the pieces on paper towel to soak off remaining oil before eating.

For the salad:

Cut tomatoes into bite size chunks.  Sprinkle gently some salt over them.  Add some freshly cut raw corn kernels and basil leaves.  Dress with extra virgin olive oil.  Let it rest for a few minutes.  Some tomato juice will form a pool at the bottom of the bowl.  The juice has a nice balance of acidity, sweetness and saltiness, and the aroma of fine olive oil and basil.  The salad is a lovely manifestation of summer.  It is easy to make, the hard part is to find flavorful tomatoes and corns.

What do you do with soy sheets?

Soy and all things made with it are major ingredients in a vegetarian diet.  I'm no vegetarian, butI find myself addicted to the soy rolls wrap with mushrooms stuffing that you find at T & T Markets and other Chinese takeout places.  But there are usually only a sprinkling of mushrooms in them and lots of oil on the wrap.  What to do? 

These wraps are usually made with dried been curd sheets that are available from the market freezer.  They need to be softened in water before use and are also vey greasy.  I looked around for an alternative and to my surprise, found these fresh soy sheets in the refrigerator's soy section of some Chinese markets.  This is a large sheet that can be cut into at least 3 squares, six if you want them smaller.

I chopped up some enoki mushrooms and some cremini mushrooms that I have in the house (really, any kind of mushrooms would do, except maybe not the white mushrooms because they get watery when overcooked.  Stir fry the mushroom mixture in oil, salt and pepper to taste, maybe a touch of oyster sauce.  

 Spoon the mixture onto the sheet.  

Fold the sheet over to form a pouch or roll, with the loose side facing down.  

Now to add more flavour (and calories), it is probably good to brush the rolls with sesame oil before browning in the pan. I didn't do it this time but might do it if I'm making this for a party.

Heat up some oil in a pan, lightly brown on both sides and it’s done in no time.  It’s quite crispy and tasty.  Now I can add some green veggies, bring these in to work and just heat them up in the microwave at lunchtime knowing that I’m eating something nutritious.

The easiest way to enjoy these soy sheets though is to cut them up into strips or pieces, throw them into broth, let them soak in the flavour and just eat it with the soup.  It could be one of the ingredients of a seafood hot pot or casserole - adding texture and protein without overwhelming the flavour.   

Korean Dinner at Houba 韓菜酒家 ほうば in Osaka

Our friends invited us to a dinner party in Osaka.  We arrived at a humble Korean restaurant on a side street in Kita-ku, not far from an arcade of restaurants, bars and pachinko parlours.   Despite the lack of glamour, we anticipated an evening of great food because the host and the other guests were food experts.  

It was a family restaurant.  The young chef, in his thirties, and his mother worked in the semi-open kitchen.  A young woman worked the front.  There were only two long tables, one for six and another that seat probably ten as it extended to a tiny counter by the kitchen.  The eleven of us were comfortable in the small dining room since the host had booked the whole restaurant for the private dinner.      

The meal started with earthen crocks of makkoli, house brewed unfiltered Korean rice wine, which had gained popularity in Japan.  The first cup was the clear liquid skimmed from the top.  It tasted mildly sweet and not that alcoholic.  Subsequent cups were scooped from the bottom.  The drink was milky white with a different texture and slightly fizzy.  Both were pleasant drinks.   

Soon into the meal, the lady server brought cold oksusu cha (corn tea), a Korean tisane made from boiling roasted corn kernels in water.  It was most refreshing, with a clean mild toasty taste and a bare hint of natural sweetness.  It went very well with the dishes.  I switched from makkoli to the corn tea for the rest of the meal.  The other folks finished their makkoli and moved onto beer and Jinro (眞露), the best selling Korean soju (燒酒).

It was a ten-course dinner.  Many courses were served in communal style, with a plate of food for every four people.  The other courses were in individual portions.

The first course was an array of namul (seasoned vegetable dishes) which were usually served as banchan (side dishes).  The serving lady brought out a few small plates at a time, arranging them into a group of parallel straight lines.  All together, there were 23 small plates, each made with a different seasonal vegetable.  Some ingredients were common, such as soy bean sprouts, spinach and celery.  Most were leafy Kyo yasai (Kyoto vegetables).  One special item was thin slices of white makomotake (真菰) about the size of a mahjong tile.  I recognized it when the serving lady showed me the raw ingredient.  It was the swollen stem of a kind of wild rice grown in swamps of China and Japan (known as 茭白 in China).  The word “take” was in the name because the stem had been infected with smut fungus.  There were also three traditional kimchee.  The portion of each plate was small, with just enough for each person to have a bite.  Together, the small plates made a lovely course.  I was impressed by the fine knife work and the delicate seasoning.  The group of namul was incredibly satisfying.  I would not mind to have them as a meal.

Next was an individual serving of grilled oysters on top of yuzu “chawanmushi”.  The texture of the two oysters was impeccable; they were firm and moist.  The taste was intense and delicious.  The citrus was used as a bowl for the savory steamed egg custard.

This was followed by a plate of two long golden brown omelets, each cut into four pieces.  One was filled with shirako (白子 cod milt) and the other with nanohana (菜の花) and ebi.  I liked the shirako omelet more (yes, I am a shirako fan).  The pan fried nanohana was a little hard.

Then came awabi gohan – sautéed awabi (abalone) slices on top of rice enriched with the dark green awabi kimo (abalone liver).  It was very well prepared.  The abalone slices were tender, and the rice picked up the“earthiness” of the liver.  Delicious and very Japanese.  

The fifth course was deceptively simple – a small piece of tofu in a small amount of broth, topped with finely sliced greens and a slice of Japanese lime.  The tofu was incredibly silky.  The clear broth was made with suppon (Japanese snapping turtle), a delicacy and a luxury.

At that point, the chef came out from the kitchen with a large stock pot in his hands.  He walked around the room and showed the pot to everybody.  Inside was an aromatic clear broth, a whole chicken and a whole fresh Korean ginseng the size of a baby’s arm.  He took the pot back into the kitchen after the parade.  And I expected a bowl of chicken soup anytime soon.

 Next was a light meat course – thin slices of cooked beef cheek, mizuna (水菜, a Kyoto leafy green) and mustard.  We rolled the meat around some vegetable to eat.

A vegetarian dish followed – thick harusame (春雨 cellophane noodles made from potato starch), soy bean sprouts, carrots, wood ear and some greens, gently dressed with sesame oil.

The eighth was deep fried chunks of bone-in fugu (blowfish).  I had the largest piece with the collar attached (bones made the fish tasted better).  The seasoning was slightly spicy hot, making the fish even more delicious.  Oishii!!

The ninth course was pork belly slices cooked in Korean hot bean paste on a hot plate.  It was accompanied by lettuce, something that looked like arugula, and ggaennip (Korean “sesame leaves”).    We wrapped the belly pieces with the leaves to eat.  The sesame leaves looked like oversized ooba but its aroma and flavor were different.

The chicken soup never came.  Instead the lady served us porridge in individual bowls.  The flavor of chicken and ginseng came through loud and clear.  There went the soup that I was waiting for. 

After ten courses, the dinner ended with “dessert” – a piece of dark green kusamochi (草餅) cut in halves.  Kusamochi is a rice cake made with yomogi (蓬, 艾草, mugwort, wormwood).  The mochi was plain, not filled with red bean paste.  Its taste was mild with a hint of bitterness.  A satisfying way to end the dinner.

The restaurant was 韓菜酒家 ほうげ (Houba), the first Korean restaurant in Japan awarded a Michelin star.  In my opinion, the food deserved at least two stars.  But the location and the decor did not meet the Michelin inspector’s expectation for luxury as it was an ordinary people’s restaurant.  My dinner there was not only my best Korean meal but also one of my most memorable meals of all times.

Japan Cheap Eats

Japan boasts the highest number of Michelin 3-star restaurants in the world.  Its 2012 Tokyo Guide lists 292 one-, two- and three-starred restaurants.  But few Japanese can afford to eat in them.  According to the 2010 Tokyo Metropolitan Government statistics, an average household of 3 people spent ¥17,000 (roughly about US$170) eating out per month.  That amount is enough for one person eating a dinner at one of the less expensive Michelin restaurants. 

Fortunately, Tokyo has an incredibly large number of restaurants (160,000 in 2009 is the latest stat that I can find).  The majority are reasonably priced.  Many are downright cheap.  To steer the ordinary diners to the best inexpensive restaurant meals are two anti-Michelin guides -- Shominchelin (庶ミンシュラン  or Ordinary People’s Michelin) and the Meshiran.

There are many forms of cheap eats – soba, ramen, yakitori, horumon (grilled offal), and more.  I am listing three of my favorites below, not in any order.   They are Japanese fast food and they cannot be any cheaper, way below ¥1,000 for a meal.

I like Yoshinoya (吉野家), a chain that specializes in gyu-don 牛丼, rice bowl with topping of onion and beef cooked in the “sukiyaki” style.  I eat there regularly because I like the food and it is Japanese fast food.  The rice of the gyu-don is cooked properly, the very thinly sliced beef is not tough, the onion slivers are cooked through and sweet, the savory sauce with a hint of sweetness brings everything together.  That combination easily satisfies the hungry man inside me.  All these for an unbeatable ¥380.  Another ¥50 for a raw egg would make the meal almost luxurious.  By the way, tea is free and bottomless.  

Another cheap eat is tachigui (立食), which means literally “stand-up eating”.  Most tachigui places are in or near train and subway stations.  My favorite is a tachigui udon shop by the Akasaka-Mitsuke subway station in Tokyo.  In winter mornings, on my way to catch a train, I often stop there for breakfast.  Entering through a sliding door, I occupy a spot at the kitchen counter that is large enough for eight standing customers, and call out my order.  The owner cooks the thick white wheat noodle, put it in a bowl of broth and places it on the counter in front of me.  I slurp my noodle, pay and leave.  The whole process takes just a few minutes.  No one lingers as there is no room.  The tiny shop serves no drink, not even water.  If I am thirsty, which is usually the case because of the broth, I can buy a can of tea or coffee, either hot or cold, from a curb-side vending machine outside the shop.  I derive much satisfaction from the cheap meal (a bowl of plain udon is around ¥300).  I am full, warm, and ready for the day. 

Ramen shops are everywhere and there are plenty of good ones.  The prices are about the same no matter where you go.  Of the thousands and thousands of them, I happen to like Santouka (山頭火).  Its toro-niku ramen at ¥790 was very good.  Toro-niku means fatty choice pork, which turns out to be pork cheek; the slices are soft and tender.  The broth is warm instead of piping hot so that children and older people can eat the ramen easily.  However, that does not score points with many ramen connoisseurs.

  (Both Yoshinoya and Santouka are chains with branches outside Japan.  My comments are strictly for the Japanese shops.)

The Last of the Californian Foie Gras Dinners

The ban of production and sales of foie gras in the State of California, U.S.A., will come into effect on the First of July, 2012.  It is not exactly news as the ban became state law seven years ago.  Still, foie gras lovers react to the doomsday emotionally.  They have been scrambling for their last foie gras dinners since May this year.  

Below is a six-course Foie Gras tasting menu at a San Francisco restaurant:

Amuse Bouche

Foie Gras Soup

Truffled Crackers, Seared Foie Gras, Glazed Baby Turnips

Hudson Valley Foie Gras Torchon

Smoked Apple Barbeque Glazed Squab, Caramelized Onion and Strawberry Compote

Seared Day Boat Scallop and Foie Gras

on Seared Yukon Gold Potatoes with Sherry Vinegar, Truffle Sauce

Foie Gras Stuffed Quail

Wild Mushroom Salad, Quail Garlic Jus

Tournedos Rossini

with Truffle Madeira Sauce

Bittersweet Chocolat and Foie Gras Mousses

on Crunchy Feuilletine, Hazelnut Praline Sponge Cake, Cassis Gelee, Bacon Ice Cream

Petit Fours

This traditional French restaurant is known for its good food and its generous portion.  The chef does not believe in the trendy two-bites-per-plate nonsense.  So, how much foie gras does one consume in these six courses?  Answer: 16-18 ounces.  In other words, a pound or more of fatty duck liver.  Absolutely delicious, decadent, and artery blocking.

Foie gras aficionados are stocking up before the ban begins; many shops have sold out.  Restaurants inform diners that they can buy foie gras from them and take it home (storing it at the restaurants would be illegal).  When the diners bring it back anytime after June 30th, the restaurants will cook it for them.  It works because there will be no sales involved at dinner time.

There are talks of black market, free private dinners with "donations" and other creative ways to get around the law.  When all fails, Californians can always go to Las Vegas in the neighboring state of Nevada where fine dining establishments will continue to dish out foie gras.  

Wine and Japanese Restaurants

Drinking in Japan has changed a lot in the past two decades.  While shochu (a clear spirit distilled usually from sweet potatoes but also from wheat, rice, barley and even chestnut) has successfully challenged the popularity of beer and sake, wine is the latest darling.  

Wine, of course, is not new to Japan.  It was introduced to the country by the Jesuits in the 16^th century.  But only in recent years have traditional Japanese restaurants put wine on their drink lists.  Now you see words like “grape wine” on street banners of ordinary restaurants, such as the one I ran into in Hiroo, and you know that wine is for salary-men just as much as for the elites.

  

Wine gurus have always influenced wine trends and sales.  In the U.S., there is Robert Parker; in England Jancis Robinson.  In Japan, the most influential wine people are the brother and sister Yuko and Shin Kibayashi, real life wine and food enthusiasts with a sizable wine cellar.  They authored under the pseudonym of Tadashi Agi the tremendously popular manga series “Kami no Shizuku” (“The Drops of God” in English), a story on the search for some of the best wines of the world.  The series has been translated into various foreign languages and has boosted wine sales significantly both inside and outside Japan. 

                                                                *     *     *

One evening at Sushi-Ko Honten in Ginza, the sushi chef served a bottle of Volnay to a couple at the end of the counter.  I chatted with him when he was free.

     “I did not know that you serve wine here.  I did not see a wine list.”

     “We do not have a wine list.”

     “Then how would customers know that you serve wine, and what to order?”

     “We make recommendations.”

Oh!

He went on to tell me that the owner of Sushi-Ko had been stocking up Burgundy for twenty years, and that the restaurant had an inventory of over 10,000 bottles stored in four locations.  

     “How well does red Burgundy pair with sushi?”

     “It goes well, especially with red flesh fish.  But the wine needs to have some years on it.”  By some, he meant ten or more years.

     “I am more a white wine person.  I like Meursault.”

     “That won’t be a problem.  We have Meursault from Coche-Dury, Ente, Lafon, …”  He recited the list of who’s who of white Burgundy.

     “What pairs well with Meursault?”

     “Anago.  The acidity of the wine cuts through the fat under the skin of the fish and results in a perfect harmony.”

Then he added, “I am off tomorrow.  But if you come to lunch, I shall be here with a nice bottle of Meursault for you.”  He did not say which Meursault.  Nor did he mention the price.  He had just made his recommendation.

               

Garlic stems, scapes, shoots – they’re all the same!

I love going to market!  There are always new things to discover if you’re adventurous.  This time it’s garlic stems.  Shoppers walked by and casually picked up a bunch without hesitation or saw the need to inspect the goods (they did look very fresh even from afar).  I stopped a man who was about to turn away with his bunch.  In response to my question, he used his hands to show me a chopping motion and fired off instructions in rapid Mandarin.  Ah, I got the drift!  This is a great way to learn about new things to cook and practise your Mandarin while you're at it!

The stems smelled very garlicky and had a real bite when I tried it raw.  I could imagine it would be good chopped up and stir-fried with any kind of sliced meat or tofu, mushrooms, etc. and proceeded to plan my dish.   King mushroom would provide a firm chewy contrast to the crisp green stems and tofu would add a softer texture.  I browned the cubed firm tofu in oil with some ginger before tossing in some sliced king mushrooms, adding a ¼ cup of chicken stock which was quickly reduced as the mushrooms cooked.  After removing the tofu and mushrooms from the pan, I heated oil then threw in the garlic stems that had been cut into inch-long pieces.  I stir fried the stems, covered with lid for a few minutes until cooked then added the tofu and mushrooms.  A dash of cooking wine, pepper, touch of oyster sauce completed the flavouring.   It was a surprise to me how sweet the stems were when cooked – quite a contrast to the bitter taste when it was raw.  There are recipes for using the stems uncooked, in salads among other things - but not for me.

Catch this early summer vegetable while you can in the markets, you likely won’t see it later in the summer.  And it supposedly has nutritional value similar to the garlic cloves! 

On the 2012 World’s 50 Best Restaurants List

The 2012 edition of the World’s 50 Best Restaurants List was released at the end of April (see www.theworlds50best.com/awards/1-50-winners/).  The annual list was first published by the Restaurant Magazine in the U.K. in 2002 and has since been expanded to 100 despite its name.  

There is no doubt that the restaurants on the list are good.  Noma (#1) deserves to be congratulated for popularizing the foraged food trend.  But one may argue whether these 100 restaurants are really the best (I doubt), and whether their ranking makes sense (I doubt that as well).  Let me illustrate with a few observations.

The U.S. has the most number of restaurants on the list: 8 of the Best 50 and 14 of the Best 100.   On the other hand, Japan has only two.  This is curious given Japan has been awarded more Michelin 3 stars than any other country in the world.  So much is clear: the Best 50 List panelists and the Michelin inspectors use different methodologies.  

Another observation: Thomas Keller has two restaurants on the list.  His flagship, The French Laundry, is ranked #43 while its sibling, Per Se in NYC, is #6.  The two serve similar, if not identical, dishes.  They do have different ambience – Big Apple chic versus rustic wine country charm.  Can that explain the huge difference in their ranking?  

The Restaurant Magazine states that it has no hand in the making of the list.  It just tallies up the entries of 837 panelists from around the world.  It further details the rules which seem fair and objective.  But the Devil is in the details.  

For 2012, the world was divided up into 27 regions to “fairly represent the global restaurant scene at the current time”. One country, the U.S., has three of the 27 regions (that is 11%).  That explains the high number of U.S. restaurants on the list. 

Asian cuisines are heavily under-represented.  Only six of the Best 100 serves “Asian” food if one includes teppan-yaki, which is an U.S. invention, and non-Asian operations.  The six are #28 Ryugin (Japanese, Tokyo), #39 Waku Ghin (teppan-yaki, Singapore), #50 Nahm (Thai, Bangkok, Australian owner/chef), #84 Bukhara (Indian, New Delhi), #93 Lung King Heen (Cantonese, Hong Kong) and #100 Hakkasan Mayfair (Chinese, London, Abu Dhabi owner).  In his own words, David Chang’s #37 Momofuku Ssam Bar and #79 Momofuku Ko are not Asian.  China has six restaurants on the list, and five of them are western.  Most likely this is because all but one of the 27 regional chairpersons were westerners, and they influenced the make-up of their panels..

Despite its built-in systemic bias, I enjoy reading the list every year.  It is fun to see who has moved up, or down, or get dropped.  Just don’t take the list too seriously.  

Shaved asparagus

After reading about the shaved asparagus in the Frank at the AGO post, a friend of mine said she’d try and make the shaved asparagus.  I never did hear back from her how it went but she had inspired me to try it myself.  I quickly discovered that the shaving was not as simple as one might think.  I only have to do eight spears for  two servings but it took a while.  I can imagine it could get a bit tedious if you have to prepare for, say, a dinner for six. 

I had initially held the asparagus in my hand and shaved it like I would a carrot.  But as the asparagus got thinner, it became harder to shave and the shavings became more uneven.  I subsequently looked it up on the internet and learned that a better way to shave it is to put it down on a board and shave sideways.  See below.  

The shaving also got a bit tricky.  The first few shaves were easy and quite neat.  But when I got down to the end, it got more difficult to create an even “shave”.  The last pieces were thicker and therefore would take longer to cook.

I didn’t look up any recipes but thought I’d just stir fry it.  Heated up some olive oil, threw in some minced garlic, then tossed in the asparagus shavings, dash of cooking wine, salt and pepper to taste when done.  This came out quite tasty and had more volume than I’d expect from eight stalks of asparagus.  It is the typical Chinese food phenomenon (akin to the five loaves and two fishes miracle?!) – when you cut things up into small slices, there always seemed to be more and you could serve more people with it.  So the eight spears provided a decent plateful, clearly too much for two.  So if you’re cooking for six, you probably wouldn’t need to do six times 8 spears.  I’d think if you’re just serving this as a side, 10 spears would be plenty for six.  And not a whole lot of work afterall - if you do it the right way!

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.