u m a m i

The Re-Set Button Dinner.

I know, this blog has been so neglected it is collecting virtual cobwebs. However, we have not been idle, just that life has been a bit hectic and it is also more instantly gratifying to use other platforms like twitter, instagrams and even Facebook.

Donc. there have also been some lovely travels too, to Taipei, London and most recently Kyoto via Osaka. The Kyoto trip was brief but full of discovery and memorable experiences. Husband had researched for about a year, starting from the time we returned from our last trip. He is quite obsessed with this ancient city which can be quite inscrutable given that most interesting stuff happens quietly in small, cloistered, traditional wooden buildings away from the main thoroughfares. We spent a night at an inn, let ourselves get lost in theNisshiki central market, journey the zen paths of temple grounds and shopped for local goods which are still only made and sold in Japan. Just like any good traveller would do. Yet, this time, our souvenir includes something intangible and quite long-lasting. Let me explain.

 It started with a dinner at this tiny restaurant that seats only 12. It is about a 25 minutes taxi-ride from the city centre.

We sat at a counter overlooking the open kitchen. Omakase style, so we ate whatever the chef decided, with the budget agreed upon during reservation. Beautifully presented food, everything seasonal and local. Since it was early autumn, there were chestnuts, the prized matsutake mushroom, persimmons, figs, the local river fish hamo, sanma fish, snapping turtles, and sea eel. Also mountain yams, adzuki beans, sweet potatoes. No superfluous garnishes, most of what were plated were meant to be eaten.

The brown foam is soya sauce emulsion, the jelly was made from fish and even the scales were edible. Nasturtium leaves, sansho peppers, torch ginger and mikan oranges. A plate to engage all the senses, in harmony, a civilised and refined way to eat.

However, all that extravaganza was not even the main point. The pride of place in the kitchen was occupied by these two pots, used to cook rice.

This was the highlight of the meal. Plain cooked rice, with some matsutake mushrooms and a small yet powerful chunk of dried roe. To better appreciate the sweet complexity and textures of the pearly rice. So translucent, so intact, so precious. And basic. No foie gras, caviar or truffle. Anti-pretension.

Chef checked at least twice with me, that I wanted the crust. He must have been hoping I would decline. Ha! Every diner got just a small piece. To be dipped into Maldon salt.. or "salt from England, Maldon" as he put it in his style of English. My friend Annette Abstoss who distributes this salt was pleased to hear his endorsement.

That dinner checked many boxes. Chef-owner. Seasonal. Local. Ingredient-driven. Even molecular cuisine. Yet, and this is a big Yet, something was not quite right. Something happened somewhere between the pretty fish plate course and the stunning rice finale.

That something was this little dish of "vegetables". Freshly torn greens looking like it was just plucked, with fresh grated radish in a miso dressing. It was an ordeal to finish. The rawness of the components. The slimey texture. The unrelenting abrasiveness of the radish. Cleansing would be a kind term, I thought it was more of an exfoliating scrub. Did not enjoy it. Which bothered me. I wanted to buy into this, but honestly it was beyond me. I was a little upset because I liked the idea of it, and wanted to like it, different from when I was at El Bulli and didn't like that yet didn't lose any sleep in spite of the experience.

According to the guide-book that husband referred to, this is not a new phenomenon. Apparently palates too used to deep fried foods, heavy seasonings and generally rich and over-processed stuff will not be able to appreciate this subtle and pure cuisine. Back home, I checked with my friend who managed to get a reservation for the temple cuisine restaurant in Tenryu-ji Temple in the Arashiyama area in Kyoto. She too, did not like the style, too bland, too monastic. Somehow, without us realizing, our lifestyle had caused our palates to be de-sensitized. Tragic, no? I thought so too. 

Back home, I reflected on the difference between what we ate for a week in Japan to what we usually eat, or get to eat, in Singapore. In Japan, it was generally less sauce, less heavy seasonings, less deep-frying. There are exceptions of course. We enjoyed a tempura dinner at a 12-person counter-only restaurant where each item was fried in front of us, the chef changed the oil midway, he used a beautiful copper pan, and each piece was served at optimum condition. There are no lack of ramen and okonomiyaki-style dishes which rely on umami-bombs in their sauces and soups. Overall, there is more emphasis on natural tastes and lighter styles of cooking.Beyond that, as we can see, there is no limit to the creativity or rigor that can be achieved.

The good effect lasted well into weeks. There's a saying, it takes 21 days to form a habit, and 7 days to break it. It's been more than 21 days, and I haven't craved for a fix of fried chicken wings (my go-to is usually Old Chang Kee, since it is so ubiquitous) or fast-food, and at cze char dinners, I am dismayed to find that so many dishes rely on deep frying and then covering with a heavy gloopy sauce. I still eat stuff like this, but I don't go out of my way for them. The same applies to home cooking, some days I even manage to rustle up with the minimum of oil and unnecessary condiments. Like diet food, but not, because I want to eat well, not deprive myself.

So there we are, our lovely souvenir from Japan. A re-set button for our palates. Unexpected but well appreciated. Thank you.

 

 

 

Manor Seafood Restaurant, Hong Kong

Happy 2013 to all my readers. I wish that you will fulfil all your dreams and aspirations, as well as enjoy lots of wonderful meals with your loved ones.

December 2012 whizzed by, didn't it? School was out, and during my time that meant that my parents could ship me off to my grandparents' house in Salak South New Village.

New Villages are unique to Malaysia. Banish any thoughts of idyllic Downton Abbey setting, and cast your mind back to somewhat turbulent times in the post-war period in Malaysia. Communism was the ideological enemy, and the British colonial government declared a period of Emergency to fight the threat. Many Chinese were forcibly moved from rural villages into New Village settlements located near or along roadsites so as to isolate them from Communist influences.

My father, a young man then, as soon as he was able to save enough money, found some builders to make a simple single-storey house in one of these settlements on the fringe of the capital. There dwelled my father's family for years and years, until the grandchildren are grown and moved out with their own families. The house was basic, with plumbing and electricity, but my aunt used chopped wood for her cooking. Chickens and the occasional ducks or geese ran about the compound which was dotted with trees like the jackfruit which gave big but not particularly fragrant or sweet fruits from time to time; other neighbours had bigger orchards with rambutans (rife with giant black ants and ferocious red species), mangoes or even better, durians. Every school holidays, we would stay about a month at this house. We spent a lot of time outdoors with our cousins, making sand sculptures, torturing those ants, fighting, making up stories, and looking forward to the ice cream seller coming by on his bicycle. The cartoons came on the telly at about 5 pm, that's when we returned to the house. If it rained, we read, I went through my father's and aunts' books, there were not many, but the collection was quite ecletic, and there was also a huge collection of black and white photographs to pore over. We didn't have many toys, in fact, hardly any, nor any computers, mobile phones or iPads. Just whatever amusement we could rustle up ourselves, like dressing up or play-acting. No adult supervision, everyone was busy doing something, as long as we didn't get hurt or start a fire, nobody minded what we were up to.

In contrast, my daughter's holiday was turbo-charged. She had to go back to school for ballet practice twice a week, on other days she had tuition and art or piano lessons. We went prawning, rock-climbing, shopping, play-dating, and baked a lot. Sometimes, I let her zombie-fy herself with cartoons, but on the whole, her holiday was nowhere as carefree as mine was. It's the same story with my nieces and nephews. So much so that we all wanted to take a break from our holidays. We, as in my brother and us, decided to go for a short trip to Hong Kong. 4 children under the age of 10, and 7 adults including my parents. I felt like a tour operator, escorting our motley bunch to various destinations. We had a great time, but it was also a bit tiring.

One of the most memorable meals we enjoyed was dinner at the Manor Seafood Restaurant at 440 Jaffe Road, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong (+852 2836 9999). I had emailed my friend,  Susan Jung for advice on where to eat, and she also helped us make reservations and pre-ordered some dishes. She has a new cookbook out too, go buy it quickly.

The restaurant looks like it has been there forever. The manager, Wendy, was very helpful and friendly. Our first pre-order came. Suckling pig. My father remarked that it looked rather big for a piglet, and before I had time to think about it, the kids had helped to hoover up all that lovely skin/crackling. Accompanied with discs of pliable wheat pancakes and hoisin sauce, it made a deliciously crispy and savoury start to our meal. The carcass was chopped up and yielded a lot of meat to make a separate dish.

This dish was an instant hit, so good we promptly ordered another portion. Oysters cooked in a claypot with ginger and spring onions. The oysters were plump and juicy and very sweet inside, but their skin had a gorgeous aroma from some wok-searing that intensified all the flavours further. It's such a simple and classic dish, but done very well.

We had more food. Vegetables and noodles, but not too much, because we were saving room in our stomachs for these gems. Golden Coin Chicken or Gum Cheen Gai. In between the pancake discs, the chef layers charsiu, roasted pork fat (yes, pure fat), chicken liver and taro. It was almost like a mille-feuille because there seemed to be two layers of taro, or maybe two layers of fat, they both looked very similar when we dissected the confection, but I didn't examine too closely. Very rich, very intense, and so good you will think about it for days and days after. The liver was done just right, not under nor overcooked, its flavours coming to the forefront despite the formidable tastes of the pork fat and charsiu, with the taro somehow bridging all the flavours and textures together. It was a very satisfying meal, the restaurant offered complimentary desserts but we didn't feel the need for even that.

I love restaurants like this. Old school, but in a class of its own. Thanks Susan! It's a great recommendation.

 

Tokyo -- Part 5

This is the final instalment of our Japan trip. I started blogging again because of some pictures of sushi that I posted on Facebook. Looking at them, my friend Andrew insisted that I blog that meal, so here it is, enjoy!

We- and by we, I mean my husband- did two things before leaving for Japan. First, obtain tickets to Ghibli Museum. Second, secure dinner reservations at restaurant Sushishou. When husband called up the restaurant, the person who answered the call told him (in English), that he didn't speak English. We turned to our hotel concierge for help, and after a few e-mails were exchanged we got a booking for dinner.  

There does not seem to be much information on the Internet about Sushishou. Coincidentally, Chubby Hubby had just blogged about this very same restaurant, but he refers to it as Sushi Sho. I will call it Sushishou, because the restaurant's name card spells it so, maybe the Japanese version is different. 

Husband did not tell me why he chose this restaurant so I did not have any pre-conceived ideas. While dressing for dinner, it occured to me to ask him whether I needed to dress formal, so I was quite relieved when he said, no need. He only said, it is a very small place, not very fancy, I hope you will like it, they serve sushi. Ok dear, sushi is a  good idea, I ate too much at lunch.

The taxi ride was short, and we alighted at a narrow lane. The restaurant is indeed small, and narrow. Counter seating only. We were warmly welcomed by the chef and all the staff when we entered. Our reservation was for 7.45 p.m. The first round of diners were nearly done with their meal.

The food was served. An appetiser. Boiled squid, the chef said. I don't usually see such pretty squid. When I ate it, my mind registered a few surprises. It was barely warm, squishy soft and yet a little chewy and the rice filling was so yummy. It was then that I turned to husband and asked him, dear, why did you choose this restaurant? He said, chef Keiji Nakazawa is very famous, master of many famous sushi chefs in Tokyo, he once competed in Iron Chef, and, some even said that he kicked out a Michelin inspector. So this place does not have a star, I asked. No, he confirmed. Wow, oh wow! I was so excited, I felt like raining kisses on my sweet, thoughful man for arranging such an interesting surprise, but it was a public place, instead, we clinked our glasses and settled down to enjoy our meal. A succession of amazing sushi was served, all incredibly delicious and completely different from all the other sushi I have ever eaten in my life. I did not take many pictures, just enjoyed the wonderful moments as they happened.


Sardine roll. After ooh-ing and aah-ing at the jewel-like appearance we popped it into our mouths and again, it was unlike any sardine sushi we've ever had. The fish was sweet and intense, very lively from addition of shisho leaves and pickled ginger.


We were enjoying a little bowl of chawan mushi containing succulent blobs of abalone, two types of uni and popping ikura when a party of seven gentlemen entered. They spoke Mandarin, only two of them could converse comfortably in Japanese. They came from Taiwan. I was curious. It costs a minimum of 20,000 yen per person, did these people just sign a multi-billion dollar deal? Or...so I asked the guy next to me, are you in the food business? He nodded his head, but asked me not to blow his cover. Throughout the meal, he engaged with the chef and asked many questions, most of them technical. In this way we also learnt a lot about chef Nakazawa's approach to sushi. I am sure that he knew the customer was trying to learn some of his secrets yet he did not seem to mind, in fact he was more than generous in sharing his methods and techniques.

Nothing was as it seemed. Before eating at Sushishou, I thought sushi means using the freshest fish you could find. Most of the fish we ate that night was not exactly delivered off the boat that morning. Like Chubby Hubby pointed out, the chef actually ages and treats his fish to coax more flavours and improve the product. They might be lightly grilled, or a little torched, or marinated in various types of konbu dashi, or cured with something.  Seasonings can be special salt, home-made pickles or even pepper pastes. He doesn't just have one pot of sushi rice. We noticed that some of our sushi had brown-coloured rice (from some ingredient I didn't catch the name of, but it's definitely not soy sauce), some had white rice. When the gentleman on my right asked if oily fish pairs with brown rice and white fish with white rice, chef started a discourse that basically said it's not that simple, it is the end result of his research on how each component comes together to form a unified end-product and every piece of sushi he was presenting to us had gone through that process. A process that might even involve, say, slicing the fish so it resembled one of those modern skyscrapers in Tokyo.

I asked my new friend, so what have you guys been eating? He said, we came to Tokyo yesterday, and have since been eating non-stop, mostly Michelin-starred places. But this is the best one (of the lot).


I apologise for the poor image. Just that this was my favourite sushi that night. Sanma sushi, with a piece of the liver cooked till just starting to turn molten.


Toro. With the brown rice. At the counter and kept in various chilling cabinets we could see the various slabs of fish, some sitting on pieces of kelp, some just glistening like so. The toro though, came from a special metal box under the counter. Chef treated the toro like a family treasure, carefully taking it out and putting it back. The white streaks were not sinews, my sushi melted in my mouth in an explosion of warm, creamy umami, the slightly nutty rice acting as a kind of anchor, chewing it after the fish gone down my gullet, I could still taste the lingering finish of the toro.

There was a sushi of ankimo (monkfish liver) paired with watermelon pickle. Oishii. 

Tuna came up a few times. The neck part was good.

Chef places sushi on our plates. Chef tells us the name of the dish, first in Japanese and maybe followed by its English translation. We ate. Mostly with eyes close because it was so darn amazing. Rinse. Repeat.

I drank beer in the beginning, but husband let me have a sip of his sake and I too, switched to sake. We had 2 types of sake, both recommended by the waiter. Ken Kon Ichi, and Haku Raku Sei, he wrote the English words for us. Husband looked them up later. The sake came from Miyagi, the breweries were competely destroyed in the 2011 earthquake but have since been rebuilt.

We chatted with our neighbours on our left, a young Japanese couple from out of Tokyo. The wife looks like a doll, with impossibly long eyelashes and porcelain face (actually every time we were at a nice Japanese restaurant there would be at least one young lady looking like that) and though she looked tiny and demure, she could eat quite a lot. It was their first time, and like us, they started off a bit nervous, but soon relaxed in the quietly congenial atmosphere.

Husband doesn't like uni, so he gave me all his uni sushi. I ate at least three types of uni that night, some in double portions. The last was this- yaki uni, the uni came from Aomori, and had been lightly grilled. Seriously, the most voluptuous, mind-bending uni sushi I have ever tasted.

The menu only starts from 20,000 yen, gets more expensive the more you eat. From time to time, chef would check if we were still hungry. I got full sooner than husband, and ate, I don't know, about 20 pieces of sushi. Husband had a bigger appetite, he continued eating more amazing sushi, there was also a soup, and some cooked seafood. His  last course was a sushi with tuna that had been aged for 10 days. How was it, dear? Intense, almost funky, and definitely unforgettable. 

In the taxi on the way back to the hotel, I asked husband about the bill. Expensive, he said, but worth every yen, and maybe more, because this was Tokyo, the best of the best. As usual, my husband is right. We were supposed to go to Tsukiji market the next morning. Earlier, I had planned to just arrive in time for breakfast and find myself a humongous bowl of uni chirashi sushi. After our wonderful meal, we decided that we would skip Tsukiji altogether, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

 

Tokyo-- Part 4

One afternoon we found ourselves at yet another shiny shopping mall. It was Omotesando Hills, and we had only ducked in to look for a matcha shaved ice. After our refreshing tea break, we came upon a restaurant that serves fruits and vegetables grown by their own farms. Singapore is not an agricultural country, eating locally and seasonally is not always feasible, so we were keen to try out this place. Using a lot of hand gestures, we made a reservation for dinner.

In the meantime, we shopped. Our favourite retail space was in Omotesando Hills itself.  Tabio sells socks for men and women. Husband was quite excited, because in Singapore it is hard to find socks that are not black, brown, navy or worse, white. At Tabio, the socks come in all hues, prints, weaves, thickness, length and design. There was not a boring sock in sight. Plus they are very comfortable. 

One basketful of socks and a few hours later, the sun came down and evening settled in. We made our way to the restaurant and were ushered the counter seats that overlook the open kitchen. If this was France, there may be a bag hook under the counter for the ladies. Here, they provided fabric-lined baskets which is a more practical solution. 

Still having no idea what is the name of the restaurant, we asked the manager, and he wrote their English name on their business card. Yasaiya Mei, which mean's Mei's vegetable house. As first-time diners eager to eat plenty of home-grown vegetables, we ordered their most extensive set menu (5800 yen per person).

This artful arrangement was set in front of us. Bagna cauda. Raw vegetables to be dunked into a "hot bath" of olive oil and anchovies. Gorgeous.

Our view of the kitchen. The lady on the right was responsible for only one dish, the bagna cauda. She worked non-stop the entire evening. Take a huge vase, fill it with crushed ice. Pluck leaves, trim radish etc. Arrange. Stir bagna cauda, pour. Ding! Every time she finished an arrangement, she would announce  "Bagna please".  My shallow self was thinking, her hands must be all wrinkled from constant contact with water...

 The "cover charge" appetiser. 650 yen each. Mountain yam, spinach and mushrooms. All ingredients had one character in common. Slime. We didn't enjoy it much but it seemed very healthy.

Appetizers. 5 types. Grilled eggplant dressed in sesame sauce was easy to like. Nagano cucumbers with yam and plum sauce was zingy, very good. The orange noodles  were actually raw pumpkin coleslaw with kimchi, quite spicy. The dish in the middle was muzuki seaweed with vinegar, i.e. more slime.

Followed by a rather large bowl of sweet potato potage. Cold, creamy, nutty and sweet. Lovely, especially for the muggy weather.

Nasu dengaku. Grilled eggplant coated in a mellow miso paste. I've always liked this dish, and this  was very good. The lotus root and green pepper were delicious on their own too.

Grilled tuna with a huge salad. Tasty but quite a lot to get through. We asked them to downsize our portions. By now, the restaurant was full and buzzing.

Grilled beef was perfectly cooked, nicely bloody and juicy. The sauce was not balsamic vinegar but reduced soy sauce, it was also amazing. The pumpkin sported some gorgeous char marks and tasted as good as it looked.

Followed by a bowl of radish and miso soup. Light and refined.

Selection of very nice pickles.

Final course. Pot of rice cooked with sanma and more vegetables. Wholesome taste. Not much sanma, the flavours came mainly from the vegetables. There was dessert too, a ginger-lemon sorbet and fruits, but we were way past full.

It was an impulse decision to eat at Yasaiya Mei, fortunately the meal was beautifully presented and cooked. We had a great evening, and would go back if we visit Tokyo again.

 

Tokyo -- Part 3

One of the things we did before travelling to Japan was to make sure we procured tickets to the Ghibli Museum. Like JR tickets, you cannot purchase them online. We e-mailed the concierge at our hotel  our preferred date and time, and someone kindly went to a Lawson convenience store to buy our tickets.

It took about an hour by metro and train to get to Mitaka prefecture. Our adventure started upon arrival at the local station, from there we boarded a bright yellow Community bus that shuttled between the station and museum every 10 minutes. It is possible to walk directly to the station, the walk passes through some pretty houses and a large park, but we were eager to reach the museum as soon as possible.

Adult visitors definitely outnumbered children as it was a school day. Everyone squealed with delight when they glimpsed Totoro at the entrance. Inside we found more wonders- special feature films, mini-sets from our favourite Hayao Miyazaki anime films, a large furry Cat Bus (for kids only), interactive spaces showing how the films are made, a special exhibition on illustrations, and of course the giant robot soldier in the sky. It is an amazing, self-contained little place, full of cuteness and whimsy; a very happy morning was whiled away exploring every little nook and corner.

We lined up for about 40 minutes to get into the Straw Hat cafe. While waiting, we shared a yummy hotdog from the takeaway stand. Finally we were seated at the counter overlooking the bar and kitchen areas, perfect for seeing what everyone else is going to eat and drink.

Capuccino art.

Old-fashioned chicken sandwiches. Served on Kiki plates. Accompanied by purple and pink ice cream soda.

Katsu sandwiches on dust bunny plate. Very filling. The cafe is filled with natural light and the staff bustled along contentedly. It may be a theme cafe, but the food was healthy, tasty and made from scratch.

Lunch over, we took the train back to Shinjuku station, Tokyo. Bye bye Totoro!

 

Tokyo-- Part 2

 

Everybody who goes to Japan seems to come home with a knife. A handcrafted knife of dragon-fire forged steel that costs thousands of dollars.  We duly made our way to the kitchen-supply district of Kappabashi, and spent a bit of time at the Kamata knife shop which can be identified by a huge picture of a knife on its facade. Husband got himself a small knife to peel and cut his fruits, as it was made of ordinary steel it wasn't very expensive. I got myself something too, but it's not a knife. More of that in the next post.

 

When Shigeki read our itinerary and saw that we were going to Asakusa, he recommended that we eat at Namiki Yabu. This is a very well known soba place, and had been featured in the popular "Oishinbo" manga. We reached the place around 11 a.m., well before lunch hour when crowds gather. The address is 2-11-9, Kaminarimon, Tokyo. 

There are two seating options- tatami on one side and regular table with chairs on the other side. Not feeling too agile, we sat at a table and were soon joined by a jovial Japanese male customer who striked up a conversation with us. He seemed like a regular customer, judging from his familiarity with the menu and the staff. With his few words of Mandarin and our even scantier Japanese, we  managed to converse about soba and Singapore.

The kitchen can be seen from the dining area, each cook concentrating on their task, one of them did nothing but ladle soup continuously between pots and bowls. Two middle-aged ladies look after the dining area efficiently, taking orders, serving food and keeping the place ticking over nicely. During our meal, a young teenage boy in the tatami section accidentally knocked over his bowl of dipping sauce. Upon witnessing this, the two ladies sprang into action with mopping cloths, restoring order without any fuss. We were glad we did not sit in the tatami section.

 

I ordered tenzaru soba, which is soba served with tempura. Husband ordered the hot soba with spring onions which was lovely but not as good as my cold soba. The cold noodles are dipped into a special soupy sauce made of soy sauce and dashi. It is recommended to try to appreciate the buckwheat in the soba by not leaving the noodles in the soup too long. Honestly the subtlety was quite lost on me, but the noodles were quite springy and slightly nutty, delicious on their own and even better with the soup. The soup was intensely umami, the spring onions and wasabi added to the enjoyment with their bright flavours. I loved the tempura, the prawns were very sweet and the batter light and crisp. It was a quick and yummy meal, but the noodle portions were on the small side so we ordered more. Overall it was not cheap- 700 yen for a portion of plain noodles with sauce and garnish, 1700 for the tenzaru soba. To our surprise, our new neighbour said the very same things too, that it was delicious but expensive for the portion size. After we finished our noodles he showed us how to dilute the sauce with some clear soup so we could drink it all up. 

 

 

The restaurant serves only soba, no other dishes. Along the way to Kappabashi, we came across a corner stall selling sweet potato snacks. Dessert! Sweet potatoes are in season and one of the best ways of eating it is in the candied form.

 

Sweet potato pie was buttery and still warm from the oven. It was very good too. So ends our morning out in Asakusa. 

 

Kyoto-- Part 2

Arashiyama is a scenic region in the western part of Kyoto. We set out nice and early on a Sunday morning, from the taxi we could see apartment blocks and commercial buildings giving way to a more rural scenery, and families enjoying the outdoors on their bikes or playing baseball in full kit.

 

The taxi dropped us off near the front gate of the Tenryu-Ji temple. The Zen temple sets a contemplative mood, in the main hall visitors sit on tatami mats and look out onto the rigorously planned gardens. We walked through the splendid gardens all the way to the rear exit, which turns left to bring us to the first in a series of bamboo groves. The bamboo grows tall and thick, their leaves provide a canopy of coolness overhead, reminded me of wushu movies setting.

 

 Our walk led us to Okochi Sanso. A famous silent samurai-movie star Okochi Sanso built it as his private villa, the gardens took over 30 years to contruct and mature. The entrance fee is 1000 yen per adult, relatively expensive even for Japan, so not many people visit and the gardens felt quite private and tranquil. We walked through the set paths,  observing the changing scenery, pausing here and there to take in the mountainside view or listen to the birdsong or cicadas buzzing. To complete the visit, visitors are served a bowl of tea and a sweet bean cake in a teahouse overlooking lush bamboo fields. This villa is well worth the trip to Arashiyama.

Holistically charged, we headed north past a railway station and a small village towards Saga Toriimoto. The walk took about a leisurely hour, a nice exercise for city folks.

There are two famous temples along this beautiful street of preserved old houses. Most were closed or turned into galleries and restaurants. The atmosphere is peaceful and calm, almost spiritual. The heat made our progress slow, but that was a good thing, we could take in the little details and appreciate the subtle sounds of nature around us. 

 

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Just at the corner before the Otagi Netsubutsuji temple, we came across Tsutaya, a charming restaurant with a thatched roof and two tables laid with red cloth in the front porch.  We went in on impulse and decided to have an early lunch, curious about a kaiseki menu of 4800 yen (most kaiseki lunch are at least double that).

The chef-owner greeted us warmly and showed us- two hot and sweaty tourists who could only communicate with sign language- to a beautiful and very powerfully air-conditioned tatami dining room. Hot towels and tea, coupled with warm service soon put us at ease. We enjoyed a delicious light lunch starting with cool sesame tofu followed by  dobinmushi, a soup of seafood and seasonal mushrooms served in a teapot. The soup, accentuated with a squeeze of fresh lime, was exceptionally light yet intensely flavourful. Note the presentation of the lime, so prettily carved. At this point we were still under the impression that we were eating a vegetarian menu, because the only word that husband could read was "tofu", and I had even blithely informed him that the seafood served only to enhance the mushrooms which counted as vegetables.

 

The chef served the third course personally, and we were blown away. It was ayu, a sweet river fish  braised in a rich dark broth. Not in the least vegetarian, the fish is their local delicacy, caught in the wilds, and the house specialty. The fish was swollen with roe, and in the presentation the chef had cut away a section of skin to highlight this marvel. Every component of the dish was exquisite in appearance and taste- the pumpkin melting and honeyed, the mountain yam gratifyingly fluffy;  still, it was the fish that took centre-stage, the flesh finely textured and the roe melting in cascades of utter deliciousness. To complement this sensational dish, a small bowl of rice cooked with local mushrooms, also presented with quiet pride by the chef himself. 

Dessert was calming and refreshing. A little coupe of yuzy jelly, studded with choice bits of seasonal fruits, especially of grapes, anchored by a small piece of pear, amazingly sweet and crystalline. We thanked the chef and his staff gratefully, and only later, when we were back in town and googled the restaurant, did we realise that we had unknowingly come across a famous restaurant. Happy serendipity indeed!

 

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After lunch, we made our way back to the town centre. The Togetsu-kyo bridge, which spans the Katsura river below the mountain, doesn't look like much when we visited, but at night and seen from far, I can imagine it would be a magnificient sight especially in autumn.  The area was crowded with Japanese tourists, some just taking it easy watching the passing river scenes from stone benches placed along the river banks, and some exploring the dozens of gift shops and eateries offering everything from buffet meals to the local sweets.

We couldn't resist joining the line at a restaurant specialising in tofu dishes. I don't know the name, but it is directly in front of the Tenryu-Ji temple main gate and the line was very long. Not knowing what to choose, we ordered one each of the most expensive set and the cheapest set which effectively covered all the items in their repertoire. Everything was delicious, especially the yuba, which is the skin that forms on top of the soya milk. Yuba is eaten on its own or dipped in a sauce made of soy and dashi. The restaurant was also doing brisk business out front with its takeaway soya milk ice cream. It was creamy and not too sweet, but melted very fast in the sweltering heat, by the time I finished my cone, my feet had taken me to another souvenir shop where more handkerchiefs beckoned at me. I bought some for my mother and myself, and poked around a few more stalls selling silk accessories and fans. 

In the late afternoon, we took the train back to Kyoto city centre, tired but happy, and full of wonderful memories of our day trip. Thank you Arashiyama!

 

 

Kyoto -- Part 1

It has been a very stressful year, and I had longed many times to get away for a holiday. Finally we found a one-week window in our schedule that overlaps that of my mother and sister-in-law, so that they could stay at our flat and look after V when we travel. My mother came down from KL the day before our trip. On the morning itself, I was busy helping out at V's school dance performance. After the show, it was a bit of a mad rush to get home, bathe, change and get to the airport. Destination: Japan. Three days in Kyoto and three in Tokyo.

We arrived at Haneda airport close to midnight, just in time to catch the last shuttle bus to their domestic terminal where the Haneda Excel Tokyu Hotel is located. Our room was spacious and decorated in soothing pale, grey shades. Large screen TV, comfortable bed, yukatas to sleep in, bathrobes and slippers to change into, and free wifi. In fact, we stayed at 3 hotels in Tokyo and all had free wifi in the rooms, I sincerely wish that other countries would make it just as easy. In the morning we dragged our suitcases along the airport train to Shinagawa train station in Tokyo, from there we took the fastest and newest bullet train the Nozomi express, to Kyoto city centre. Lunch was bento boxes brought at shops in the station, most were delicious but the unagi was rubbery and tough. In the Nozomi first class cabin,  blankets are available, and power sockets can be found in the armrest. The ride was quiet, and despite worrying reports from other travellers, although there are no designated luggage racks in the train, it was possible to put our suitcases behind the last seats in the cabin as the trains run quite frequently and are hardly packed.

In Kyoto, we were lucky to snag a room at the Citadines Karasuma-Gojo, it happened to be long weekend with a temple festival and the city was inundated with local tourists. The serviced apartment is one minute walk away from a metro station, and though the neighbourhood is quiet, there is a bustling 7-11 nearby and a handful of decent restaurants.

Kyoto is a city with a storied past. It was Japan's capital and home to the Emperors from 794 until 1868. The city centre is compact and laid out in a fairly predictable grid system. There are plenty of shrines, temples, museums and the occasional castle to see, and many other attractions a short train-ride or two away.  My threshold for "temple fatigue" is very low, so we set ourselves a relaxed schedule so that we can enjoy the city and spend time with each other.

 The weather forecast for the week we were to visit was gloomy- rains and thunder every day. Fortunately we didn't see any rain at all, in fact it was mostly sunny and very hot, as high as 30 degrees C.  The parasol that I put into my suitcase at the last minute came in very handy, and I had to keep cool with fans and neckerchiefs.

Gion district is postcard-perfect with its well-preserved wooden houses lining tidy cobble-paved streets, and of course for the geishas and their apprentices maikos who may be sighted occasionally. Nearby is Maruyama Park, home to some notable temples like Kodaiji and Chion-In Temple. The neighbourhood is very pretty too, good for souvenir shopping. The Totoro gift shop (I call it that because of the large Totoro cutout figure outside) there  had a wider variety of merchandise than the one at the Ghibli museum in Tokyo. I spent a happy morning shopping at Ichizawa Shinzaburo Hanpu. Noting that stocks may run out later in the day, we went early and were delighted to find a huge inventory. The bags are made of high quality, sturdy sail canvas, very well made and beautifully designed so that they look good yet discrete. My mum loves the tote I got for her, a sunny yellow medium sized bag with a protective flap, the proportions are just right for her height, and the bag itself sufficiently roomy. 

Since we are talking about shopping, I will confess now that I went a little nuts buying up handkerchiefs. Most were priced at 525 yen, or 500 yen at the airport. I have them now in a variety of designs, ranging from tiny Little Twin Stars and Totoro to more traditional Japanese embellishments as well as more modern graphic  prints. I also learnt a new word: Aburatori-Gami. It means facial oil blotting paper, a very popular consummable with women especially Japanese ladies who all seemed to have stepped out of their beds with perfectly made-up faces. Yojiya is iconic in Japan, their main shop is in Gion and their best-selling item is their Aburatori-Gami. I am not one to use these papers much so I got only a small packet for myself, and a larger packet for my sister-in-law. Later I regretted buying so little, because wow-oh-wow, these papers have super-tentacular suction powers, and I got to thinking maybe I can use them all up myself. Fear not, the duty-free stores at the Haneda airport has a little stand for such situations.

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We also visited the Nishiki market, it is a huge market in the middle of the city.  The weather was hot, but the produce were distinctly autumnal. Mushrooms, chestnuts, grapes, figs are in season. Many stalls sell their own products like rolled omelet flavoured with dashi, grilled rice balls, and especially tsukemono or pickles , great big barrels of vegetables soaking in their pickle baths of sake lees or special brine formulations. 

 

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 At one of the far corners of the Nishiki market is a very old unagi restaurant. Kaneyo is more than a 100 years old but the building looks very well-preserved. It is a bit difficult to find the place but just ask anybody and they will show you the way, the helpful ume (plum) pickle shop assistant that helped us even validated our choice with many refrains of "oishii,  oishii". Once you are near, you will be able to smell the charcoal and grilled fish aroma in the air. The unagi is, as my friend Shigeki explains, cooked according to the Kansai (Osaka) style which is to grill over charcoal, versus the Kanto (Tokyo) style which steams the fish before grilling which results in a more tender end-product.  The Kaneyo unagi was, in spite of the cooking style, very juicy and tender underneath its gorgeous grilled lacquer. We ordered a medium sized bowl each, one with omelet and another a la mode. an ideal combination because the omelet is strangely bland but the unagi portions are not very large so the egg serves to accompany the last few mouthfuls of rice.The reason we did not go all out for the unagi was because we were not sure how good it would be, and also because on the way to the restaurant we passed a very busy quick-service udon restaurant we wanted to check out.

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 It is near the Uniglo shop, and very popular. Customers choose from a menu of cold or hot udon, and decide on the condiments and optional items like tempura seafood or vegetables. If I see "mentaiko" anywhere I am compelled to order it, and it was a great choice. The udon was heaped with a raw egg, a generous dollop of the spicy cod roe, plus the seaweed, negi and ginger I garnished with, all of which I mixed up into a really delicious sauce to slurp the noodles with.

 

In summer, the refreshment of choice is matcha served cold. Matcha lattes, matcha freezes, iced matcha, these are just various combinations served everywhere from little roadside kiosks to slightly more upmarket cafes or wagashi shops. My favourite is what I call the matcha ice kacang.  The first time I saw it was at a wagashi cafe in Gion, it doesn't have an English name and since I am largely indifferent to these slightly too-sweet confections of bean paste and more bean pastes, the shops all look the same to me. We went in to have something very cold to drink, and two young Japanese housewives were enjoying their afternoon tea. When her matcha ice kacang came, she giggled, her friend giggled, so did I and the waitress. It was enormous and a bit challenging to eat without spilling any ice on the high-gloss lacquer tray. The dark green ice rings with concentrated matcha flavours and also a healthy dose of sugar- as matcha has a distinct umami-ness, it also feels like you are eating something and not just drinking tea. The icy slushy part is the best, at the bottom there are some rice balls which I usually ignore because they are very dense and possibly a choking hazard, and also some red bean soupy paste which to me doesn't go that well with the matcha.

Some places don't serve this treat after summer, in which case we had to settle for matcha shake or good old fashioned hand-whipped green tea served warm. I know because it quickly became a habit to seek out something very cold and green every afternoon, no matter where we were or what we were doing. The best version I had was eventually to be found at Tokyo, at the very highly esteemed Toraya tea rooms, which makes sense, since husband thinks Toraya makes the most refined wagashi. Their matcha ice comes in medium or large sizes, definitely choose the larger, because you can't go wrong with their high quality tea.

 

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Dinners in Kyoto were quite haphazard and unplanned, one evening it was a sumptuous beef shabu-shabu meal and sometimes it was just fruits and onigiri from the convenience store. One evening we checked out this diner just two doors away from our serviced apartment. It had banners advertising sanma sets from 630 yen. It happens that my favourite fish is  sanma,  a Pacific saury with a long swordlike body. In autumn,  it is cheap and plentiful. The Chinese name is chiu-dao, meaning autumn sword. Simply grilled with salt until the skin is charred and the liver molten yet still retaining the finely fleshed texture of the fish, it is an irresistable treat.

 

 

The diner had sanma sets for 630 yen and 650 yen, the difference being that the 650 yen set came with mushroom rice while the 630 yen came with white rice. Both sets entitle one to have refills of white rice, diners help themselves to the rice pot on one side of the room. The fish was done to perfection, together with the delicious rice, everything else on the tray was redundant. That was one of my favourite meals, I could have eaten it over and over.

Night-time in Kyoto, one could go to a cultural performance in Gion I guess. We were more plebeian, preferring to stay in our airconditioned room and watch TV. There seems to be a concerted effort to market Kyoto judging from the programmes we saw. I saw Memoirs of a Geisha, a movie I had long ago overlooked but watching it in Kyoto and recognising the landmarks lends it a different spin. One evening there was a docu-drama on the life of a samurai book-keeper, the acting was measured and the costumes impeccable, the setting also disquietingly similar to modern day despite the hundred year difference in time. We slept well and the time passed quickly.

(Thank you for reading till the end. In Part 2: Arashiyama. )

 

 

 

 

Would you travel for cabbage?

Strasbourg, capital of Alsace region, is a little over two hours away from Paris by train. We took the morning train and arrived in time for lunch. Husband booked a table at Maison Kammerzell. The restaurant is situated in the main city square next to a cathedral, i.e. Tourist Central. From the outside it looked imposing and was starting to fill up with prosperous looking business people. The first thing that striked us was the efficient greet-and-show-to-table routine at the door, they found our online reservations detail very quickly and escorted us up the stairs to a nice corner table with a view of the cathedral.

The building is centuries old, the upstairs dining room had a mediaeval sumptuousness that is quite welcoming and reassuring.

The sun was shining and a glass of chilled gerwurztraminer seemed like the thing to drink and it was delicious. Escargots in lots of herbed garlicky butter also seemed right and husband enjoyed it very much.

The child had the kid's menu of knacks with fries. Rather good, she was very pleased with this dish, not surprisingly.

I did not want anything too heavy, so I ordered the salmon choucroute. I don't think I saw fish choucroute anywhere else, but it is the specialty dish in this restaurant.

What arrived was a sizeable mound of choucroute covered in beautifully cooked salmon. The fish was delicious, so was the slightly tangy buttery sauce that was poured over it, but it was the choucroute below that impressed me. It didn't look like much, just a pile of cooked cabbage, but the taste was amazingly complex. Crisper textured than the typical German style that I usually prefer, and very full bodied, full of deep intense savory flavours balanced just so of mild sweetness and acidity, a far cry from the rough and overly sour pickled cabbage that passes for choucroute in Paris.

It is quite mysterious to me how they make such delicious choucroute in Alsace, but talking to a wine producer a few days later (more of that in another post), she revealed that one of the steps involved steeping and rinsing the cabbage in the local wine.

Back to our meal. Husband had made dinner reservations for the same evening, so he advised me not to eat too much. I was getting quite full too, and regretfully left half of the wonderful choucroute on my plate.

He too, had a tough challenge in front of him. His meat choucroute plate had a glorious selection of sausages, including a very good boudin noir, ham and pork belly. All very tasty, with a different type of choucroute that was just as amazing as mine.

We had another choucroute meal on the last day of our trip, in another well-known restaurant about 45 minutes away from Strasbourg; that was nice and all, but I greatly preferred the Kammerzell version. Everytime I see the choucroute that is sold at my local market, I kick myself for not eating more when I was in the restaurant. Maybe one day I can convince husband to accompany me to Strasbourg just to eat there again. It is not too outrageous to make a day trip just to eat cabbage, or is it? 

Maison Kammerzell
16, place de la Cathédrale
67000 STRASBOURG
T : 33 (0)3 88 32 42 14

To St Malo to see the sea, and a word about the Bigarrade

May is a curious month. There are three public holidays scattered in the first half so the French try to make long weekends around those dates and the city feels quieter than usual. The sun has been out since last weekend and we who have been locked in by the cold and blustery weather of March and April are taking the opportunity to go out and enjoy some warmth.

Even now, two weeks after our little weekend holiday, every time we take V out she asks if we're going to the seaside. St Malo and Mont St Michel obviously made an impression on her. We stayed in a small hotel in the walled city, took walks around the rampart, rode carousels, walked on the beach, collected seashells and it was absolutely lovely. Definitely a big improvement on the chateaux-tramping of our previous vacation in the Loire Valley. The eating was good too. Lots of crepes, in particular the butter and sugar ones at Chez Margaux. Also lots of seafood, like pink roses with intact ebiko, cold crab and my new favourite, sole meuniere.

Posting will be sporadic again because next week I join third and fourth sister in New York for a girly vacation. I need to shop for some skincare products and children's clothings. In the meantime, if anyone is coming over to Paris the go-to restaurant is definitely Bigarrade. People say it is this year's Spring. I'd say it is much better, euro for euro we get more value for the money as exemplified by a great dinner we ate last night. The multi-course menus (my 45 euro Gourmet one: 2 apps, 1 fish, cheese, 3 desserts and husband's 65 euro Gourmand version which adds one more each of appetiser, meat and dessert) were exciting, brilliantly delivered and very yummy. My favourite dish was a small dessert of mango dessert topped with dried olives, just the thing for a jaded palate.

         

La Bigarrade, 106 rue Nollet. 17th arr. M: Brochant.

T: 01 42 26 01 02