FoodTrek: Monsoon East - the Raw and the Cooked

What, no one appreciates silly Britpop late 80s album titles? Well, this Fine Young Cannibal went with a partial gathering of the Happy Hour Martini Mafia to explore a bit of Ye Olde Main Street of Bellevue. It was a pleasant evening, the clouds parted ways to reveal the beginnings of a rosy sunset, and we had the pleasure of experiencing the Vietnamese cuisine of Monsoon East.

What lies behind door number one? Papaya salad, please. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

With all the excitement over new food/retail metropolis The Bravern opening this week, and the crowds that usually gather around the Lincoln Square hub, Old Bellevue's Main Street, with its independent boutiques, family-run restaurants, and general quaintness, is often forgotten. Better known to Eastsiders and Bellevueites living close to the downtown area, it's an easy walk from the many residential buildings nearby. It's a stretch of road that encourages meandering, with window displays and inviting storefronts on both sides of the street. One of my favorite restaurants, Bis on Main, is there, as well as local haunt, 520 Bar and Grill. Even though it's since closed down, one of the best dive bars, The Mustard Seed, had also once called Main Street its home.

New things in Old Bellevue - Photos by Wasabi Prime

A new Main Street/Martini Mafia favorite is most definitely Monsoon East, the Eastside sibling to the Monsoon located in Capitol Hill. Approaching the entrance, the thick, heavy door feels like a gateway to a holy temple. A hefty pull and you enter into a serene, open space full of delicious smells and an icy display of fresh shellfish for their raw seafood bar. Monsoon East took over a space that had once been a high end market. The area where the deli counter once was, now sits a cozy bar. Small sitting areas are scattered in front of their large windows, creating a friendly lounge space. When the weather is nice, it's an easy place to sit, eat, and people watch.

Go on, be shellfish and have some. - Photo by Wasabi Prime

We set straight to business, ordering a flurry of dishes, both raw and cooked, from the happy hour menu. Trying a bite of this and a smidge of that, we enjoyed a variety of flavors and textures. Sweet, spicy, sour, fragrant -- all descriptions that are synonymous with Vietnamese dishes. Fresh ingredients with a mix of preserved morsels made their papaya salad a refreshing start. We were expecting a strong hit of spice typical to this dish, but they kept the heat to a minimum, letting the punch of the vinegar dressing punctuate the freshness of the salad ingredients. A string of raw dishes followed: a spicy albacore mixed with a citrus aioli and nestled in a tower of taro chips; poke tuna with a swirling nest of ogo (seaweed); a tart and fragrant carpaccio with the beef sliced paper-thin and sprinkled with crunchy peanuts -- everything had delicious, clean flavors that left one wanting to order second helpings or at least figure out when another visit was in order.

Any more raw and it'd be wriggling. And still delicious. - Photo by Wasabi Prime

The cooked items were just as enjoyable, as we nibbled on familiar bar food fare like their sweetly spiced crispy chicken appetizers and shared a dinner menu serving of the drunken chicken in a savory, sweet sauce. I think my personal favorites were the raw bar items, as they struck the perfect balance of flavor and texture. I noticed on their menu that they have a mangalitsa pork fried rice, which sounds like heaven -- I'm making a mental note to return for just that reason, and maybe a bit of the caramelized kurobuta pork belly. You know it's a good place when you're already making menu plans for the next visit.

It's been said that the people and culture of Vietnam conjure an enchanting spell over visitors, leading them to cast their Westernized lives aside and become fully immersed in the natural beauty that surrounds the region. With the inspiration of an expatriated (and hungry) character from a Graham Greene novel, Monsoon East made me feel like I never needed to return home.

I feel like spicy-chicken-wings-tonight, like spicy-chicken-wings-tonight! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

*Post Script - Big thanks to Foodie View for making the poke tuna their Foodie View of the Day! Thanks also to Serious Eats' Photograzing for also posting this photo!

UnRecipe: Labor-Free Labor Day Dinner

The Labor Day weekend marks off the waning days of summer. It's also the weekend I'll be at Penny Arcade Expo, in support of Brock and his workplace, so taking the "Labor" out of Labor Day, I'm posting something that happened a couple of weeks ago when the weather was nicer than what it is now.

I'm starting to see hints of gold and red appear on trees, the backyard garden is showing off what will be its final blooms, and it's getting to where we'll have to cut down the last of the our basil before the weather gets too cold for its tender leaves. We'll make at least one batch of pesto, but there's something really nice about enjoying fresh-picked herbs in food. Enjoying all that is best about summer, we had a dinner outside with all our favorite things, including Insalata Caprese with an antipasto platter of cheese, meat and our regular meal companion, fig jam!

Summer in the raw with a Caprese salad - Photo by Wasabi Prime

We didn't grow tomatoes this year, so it was a treat to pick up some heirlooms for dinner. I love their lumpy-bumpy, wabi-sabi shape. A lot of the ones being sold now are showing signs of being late in the harvest -- a lot of splitting --but we were fortunate to find two whose surfaces were intact and firm. A handful of freshly cut basil leaves were shredded up and sprinkled between the slices of tomato and mozzarella cheese. Drizzled with a little balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and the main course was ready to eat.

Bright colors are tasty - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I know I've featured fig jam and cheese quite a bit over summer. It's my new love affair, both at home and in the office. I just can't quit you, Fig Jam. Paired with a couple of different cheeses (spicy jalapeno havarti and a pungent, creamy blue), its deeply-flavored, sticky sweetness made them almost like a dessert that still tasted good with large chunks of fatty dry-aged meat, which is a pretty nice thing. We poured ourselves a glass of wine and threw some wood into our little outdoor fire pit to further set the mood. Sure, we could have gone out to dinner, but sitting in the backyard, enjoying a quiet summer evening felt like a pretty good argument for spending the night at home.

Private dining at Chez Wasabi - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Indulging in what will most likely be the last few weeks of our precious summer, I wanted to linger on this post a little while longer, to share more photos featuring the colors of the season. When the winter chill returns and the yard becomes less hospitable for lazy weekend dinners, these pictures will make me happy, looking forward for sweet harvests and blossoms to come.

Le jardin du Wasabi and meals good to the last bite - Photos by Wasabi Prime

*Post Script - Grazie mille to FoodGawker and Serious Eats' Photograzing for picking the luscious sliced heirloom toh-mah-toh photo from this post.

UnRecipe: One Nation, Under Gastronomy

Mother of Exiles -- a memorable phrase in Emma Lazarus' poem, The New Colossus, referring to the Statue of Liberty and her role as a sentinel for the New World. It's the same familiar poem about the tired, poor masses yearning to breathe free that's engraved on a plaque, sitting at the base of our émigré watchtower. I remember seeing this plaque as a gradeschooler on the dreaded family vacation, the poem not holding any meaning beyond a perfunctory history lesson. Many years later, the words start to resonate as I wander through local markets and putter through recipes and restaurants all offering pan-fusion-insert buzzword here-cuisine. I start to think about what it means if we have to answer the question: What is American food?

American as apple pie... sort of - Photo by Wasabi Prime

It seems like a simple enough question, right? One immediately thinks of drive-thru cheeseburgers, milkshakes, and other industrialized forms of cuisine that is less about food and more inherent of industrial revolution and our Manifest Destiny of I Want it NOW. But I don't think it's fair to characterize our nation's home cooking by conveyor belt quickness and Conehead-like mass quantities. I should think the food we eat in this country is a byproduct of the drive of necessity, ingenuity, and the notion that there's still room for good flavor amongst those moving parts.

Unidentified Foodie Objects - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Inspired by our crucible of cultures, I threw together a hodgepodge of ingredients to make roasted pattypan squash stuffed with chorizo. This sounds fussy and obscure, but it's surprisingly basic. From our backyard garden, we had tender baby scallions and a couple of carrots (including one scary claw-shaped one - RAWR), a spare onion in the pantry, and several snowy-white pattypan squash from fellow bloggers, Mr. and Mrs. Picket Fence. The name of the mothership-like squash is French in origin, referring to a pâtisson, a cake pan having a similar shape. For the filling, I used a soft Mexican pork chorizo, but the spice-laden sausage has origins throughout both Spain and Portugal.

It's hard to associate this meal with any single ethnic cuisine, and so I think it's simpler to just say it's American. Many of the key ingredients were home-grown, and the final result was inspired by the variety of flavors we're lucky to experience here.

It doesn't seem as all-American as apple pie, but I think a sundry dish like this speaks a bit of our own disparate origins, a melting pot that is stirred by the children of exiles, eager to make something new and bring a part of the old country back for seat at the dinner table.

Home-grown garden bounty included scary claw carrot - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Post-Script: Big THANKS to Tastespotting, Serious Eats' Photograzing and FoodGawker for choosing photos from this post. Much appreciated and happy eating!!

UnRecipe: Secondhand Sandwiches

One word: Leftovers. One more word: Awesome. Some people reserve a tall glass of hatorade for having a twice-eaten meal, or in our case, several times-eaten meal. My father never liked any scrap of food to go to waste, so we got used to making do before making new in the Wasabi household of my youth. From a recent barbecue at a friend's house, we wound up with an excess of sausage and vegetable kebabs, along with miscellaneous things like hamburger buns and slices of cheese. What some would call leftovers, I would call a Roasted Sausage and Vegetable Secondhand Sandwich.

We love our buns n' weiners - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I think if you add "roasted" in front of anything, it just sounds better, but in reality, the kebabs could have been eaten without touching a grill. I had bought pre-cooked herbed chicken and andouille sausage and cut them up to thread between chunks of vegetables for the barbecue. I don't usually like mixing veggies with meat on sticks, since they all have different cooking times, but since the sausages were already cooked, they would just brown up while the veggies got a quick char without getting overdone. I chopped everything down to a smaller bite sizes and piled the goods on a soft roll with a slice of Swiss on top. I hollowed-out the top dome of the roll to jettison the extra bread and leave more room for the precious meaty-cheesy payload. A few minutes under the broiler to get the cheese melted and toast up the bread, and by the Power of Greyskull, this sandwich was complete!

It was a MacGyver Meal of delicious proportions. Simple, maybe boring to some, but delicious. I don't have sandwiches often, so it was an extra treat to have the lovely, crusty bread. I also had a bit of extra chile mayonnaise which tasted quite nice on the sandwich. I had pulsed a couple of adobo chiles with mayonnaise to make a spicy spread for hamburgers and inevitably wound up with more mayo than burger. Just another flavor piece to add to the secondhand sandwich. As a side note, grilled zucchini is marvelous. We had several monster-sized ones from the Redmond Farmer's Market, and they grilled up just beautifully on the kebabs and held up just dandy as leftovers for the sandwiches.

From Farmer's Market to Fabulous - Photos by Wasabi Prime

* Post-Script: Thanks to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting its photo and making this secondhand sandwich feel like top honors!

FoodTrek: BlueC Sells Sushi by the BellSquare Mall

I'll be the first to admit, I'm kind of a crappy Asian. I suck at using chopsticks, our household cutback of starches and carbs have limited my rice and noodle intake, and I've never been a big seafood eater. But I make strides where I can -- I'm working on my weirdo seafood pickiness, as there's really no need to eschew the bounty from Neptune's kingdom. An easy way of doing this is to have sushi, and lots of it. Bellevue's Blue C Sushi is up to the task.

At least they were honest and spelled crab with a "k" for their California Rolls - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Blue C is a kaiten style sushi restaurant, serving its bite-sized om-noms on a conveyor belt that roves around the main dining area. This isn't an unusual thing, as there are plenty of kaiten sushi places all over Seattle and the Eastside, but they want to distinguish themselves as serving quality cuts of fish without being unfriendly to one's wallet, which I can appreciate. Their color-coded plates range in price from $1.50-$3 for the warm bright colors, to $3.50-$5.25 for their range of cooler hues. Each plate tends to have two to six pieces of sushi or other items, so going with friends, it makes for easy sharing and a nice way to try something before deciding it's worth a second helping. I have yet to visit them for their happy hour, where they have special prices on drinks and some of their "blue plate" offerings like sashimi, but I'm very keen on returning after work to celebrate their saying of "skip work, eat sushi" on their website. Amen, my Asian bretheren.

All aboard the Blue C Express -- next stop, your belly - Photos by Wasabi Prime

On this lunchtime jaunt, we sampled a wide range of things, both raw and cooked. Even if you're not so much with the appreciation of raw food, they had options like cucumber rolls, vegetable tempura, and pork tonkatsu. Of course the cooked items are often times fried, but it's just one small bite... can't hurt, right? I particularly liked the sake and maguro nigiri (raw salmon and tuna slices on a small wedge of rice); it's a nice clean way of enjoying the fish. I also liked the sashimi style cuts of maguro that were hovering around on the conveyor belt. A little smear of wasabi paste, a bit of pickled ginger, and whooosh go my sinuses into instant clarity. It's funny how eating raw fish can be more appealing than having it cooked for timid seafood eaters like myself. Since the application of heat can bring out the oils within the fish, the raw state keeps the fishiness down to a minimum, and all you should really taste is a kind of cold, freshness of the sea.

There's the added enjoyment of the fact that Blue C has a bit of a sense of humor. They know they're not in Japan, there's no tatami mats or sliding paper screen doors. There's fun urban-inspired artwork on the walls, and in the upstairs lounge area, they have TVs showing insane, disturbing Japanese game shows. This is a place that celebrates Japan in all its delightful weirdness, and that's Banzai-worthy, I think.

They also had desserts -- I saw some lovely creampuffs riding the food train past our table, but I respectfully declined. I know French pastries are incredibly popular in Japan, but I haven't quite bridged the gap between getting a sushi fix and then biting into a custard-filled pastry. I also saw what looked like toys on the conveyor belt. Like if your kid is getting unruly, buy him a pastry and a robot, all in one place.

I like what they're doing at Blue C Sushi -- it's fast, they keep it fresh, and you don't have to spend a small fortune to have a good meal right in the heart of downtown Bellevue. Because it's right by a big multiplex theater, it's an ideal place to eat something somewhat healthy before giving in to the temptation of a bucket of fake butter. I don't think Blue C could keep me from a box of frozen Junior Mints, though...

Sushi makes you giggle like a Japanese school girl. Ribbons mandatory. - Photo from Blue C website

I did have to post a picture from their website. It's funny and I kind of had to wonder if this is what people really think Japan is like, with uptight businessmen and a one-woman Sailor Moon brigade to lighten the mood. Perhaps Blue C Sushi is simply the Japan people wish it could be, with rotating trains of freshly-made food, bizarre game shows, and giggly schoolgirls of questionable legal age. All I know is, I need to go back and get one of those pink eyepatch bunny toys.

* Post-Script - Domo aplenty to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting the photo of the California Roll on their site!

FoodTrek/MacGyver Meal: Disc-orzo Inferno

Not to toot the Pacific Northwest's horn yet again, but Seattleites know how to throw a party, and they do it with eccentric aplomb, complete with disco ball. Toot-toot! Beep-beep!

Dia de Los Disco / Come on Barbie, let's go party. Bring your pasties. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I was fortunate to be invited to a summer BBQ at Casa de Awesome, thrown by the diva duo of roommies Jennifer and Kat. It had been an eagerly-anticipated fête, designed to celebrate the love of our rare summer months, as well as an equal love of food and drink.

Here's to swimmin' with bowlegged women. Another sangria and margarita, bartender! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The party was complete with Bartender Nick who converted the kitchen into a full bar, serving up margaritas, mojitos, and his specialty, the old fashioned Sidecar. Hostess Jennifer brewed up her favorite white sangria in an Olympic-sized punchbowl that served as an example of fruit heaven, where peaches and citrus go to die.

The calm before the party storm, and partaking of SJB's meats. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I went with fellow blogger, SJB, and we headed over early to help with some of the preparation and the skewering of meats and vegetables. After no major goring of hands had occurred during kebob-ification, SJB took on the role of Grill Master Flash, while hostesses J+K made their sweep of the party floor, with the force of two Auntie Mame's.

Party Animal, Mr. Tucker. Who let the dogs out? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The party wasn't without its resident party animals, Tucker and Fisher. I was able to get a decent photo of Tucker, but Fisher was avoiding the paparazzi that night, too busy meeting and greeting guests and sniffing around to see what goodies had perchance fallen on the floor.

She's got legs, and she knows how to use them. Kat flashes her Blue Steel. BOOZE! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The only thing the Prime was tasked to do was bring a salad. Expecting a guestlist up to thirty people, I went with the cater-friendly, giant aluminium turkey roaster pan and in typical MacGyver-cooking style, threw together an Italian-themed orzo salad. It's what I would like to call a "drunken salad" as I was in the middle of cocktail hour when making it the night before.

Orzo salad - the longer it sits out and festers, the better. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

In typical Wasabi Prime fashion, there was no real recipe. I just knew it needed to be a salad that could sit out at room temperature for several hours, vegetarian-friendly, made with basic ingredients that were familiar and pleasing to palates. In atypical Wasabi Prime fashion, I'm going to attempt to list the recipe below. I cut the ingredients by half, since I doubt you'll need enough to feed twenty-plus people, but it still makes plenty, so it's a great party recipe.

Roasted Vegetable Orzo Salad w/ Herb Vinaigrette - serves up to 8-10

1 box/package of orzo (about 1 lb) / 1 large red onion, peeled and quartered / 2 zucchini, ends chopped and halved lengthwise / 1 red bell pepper, stem and seeds removed, cut in half / 1 container of cherry tomatoes / 2 cups drained/pitted kalamata olives / 2 cups crumbled feta cheese / 2-3 tablespoons olive oil / 1 tablespoon of dried oregano / 1 teaspoon fresh cracked pepper / 1 teaspoon kosher salt

Herb Vinaigrette Ingredients: 1/2 cup of fresh basil leaves / juice and zest of one lemon / 3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil /salt + pepper to taste

Get to Business: Preheat oven to 420° F and make sure the baking rack is centered. Take a shallow baking pan and cover with foil for easy cleanup. Take the cut vegetables (onion, zucchini, bell pepper, and whole cherry tomatoes) and toss with olive oil, oregano, salt and pepper. Spread onto the baking pan -- use two if the vegetables don't all fit. Place in oven to roast for 20 to 25 minutes or until vegetables have roasted down and become soft.

Take a large pot and fill with water. Set on stove to start boiling the water for the orzo. As it gets to a rolling boil, throw in a healthy pinch of salt to flavor the pasta and toss the whole box/bag in. Stir constantly, as the pasta bits will stick together as well as to the bottom of the pot. Cook until al dente or cooked, but still firm; this will help it continue to soak up flavor from the dressing. Drain pasta and toss with olive oil to keep the grains from sticking while it cools.

While the orzo and roasted vegetables cool down, take a blender or food processor and pulse down the basil and lemon juice/zest. Drizzle in the olive oil as the blades chop the herbs down and incorporate with the lemon juice. Pulse in the salt and pepper, adding in small amounts so you can taste as it mixes -- add more as you see fit. Finished vinaigrette should taste like a lemony pesto with a loose consistency. Add more olive oil if it's too thick, as it needs to be able to easily mix with the salad.

Once the vegetables are cool to the touch, chop down into smaller bite-sized pieces. The cherry tomatoes should be fine as-is. Take the drained kalamata olives and run a knife through them for a rough chop and ensure there were no pits left in -- there's always one hiding in there. Crumble the feta cheese in and incorporate all ingredients, tossing with the finished herb vinaigrette. Can serve immediately or let it set in the fridge for a few hours to let all the flavor soak in. The dish can be made up to 24 hours ahead.

* Post-Script - Thanks to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting the orzo salad ingredients!!

Mixed Plate: Observations Through a Doughnut Hole

Homer (Simpson, that is) once waxed poetic about a doughnut after it had saved him in some inexplicable situation, saying dreamily, "Doughnuts...is there nothing you can't do?" Aside from that pop culture reference, when it comes to doughnuts, I often think of that pinnacle of weird television, Twin Peaks -- David Lynch and Mark Frost's collaborative 1990 drama series that captivated and confounded everyone out there in TV Land for two seasons before ABC unceremoniously kicked it to the curb and CBS's Northern Exposure got to be the only surviving weirdo Pacific NW-themed series.

The symbolic significance of doughnuts in Twin Peaks? Life is weird, have sprinkles - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I wasn't even living in Washington yet, and the show spun its delightfully obscure web around my awkward adolescent brain. I loved how it gave me a weekly dose of being stricken with a dumb look on my face after every episode's close. Dancing midgets who spoke backwards, a beauty queen found murdered and wrapped like a freshly-caught fish, ghostly vignettes of sinister foreshadowing, and an earnest FBI agent named after an infamous bank robber who liked damn good coffee and slices of cherry pie. There were, of course, many other dramatic aspects to the series, but it was a wacky show that just got downright disturbing once spooky things came to light to reveal the murderer of Laura Palmer. Which is why oddball things like cherry pie and a table full of stacked doughnuts were like edible lampposts kept alit to keep things from getting too dark.

Diane, take a memo - need more doughnuts - photos from IMDB.com and fan screencap

Not to say that baked goods were the sole savior of the show. I think by second season, things had gotten so convoluted and self-involved that even fried dough couldn't save the day. But it got me to thinking about how David Lynch is like a misunderstood comfort food. We always think of him as eccentric and strange as a squid ink pasta, when really, I think he's more like the doughnut or slice of cherry pie he lovingly featured in Twin Peaks. I've seen his brilliantly disturbed films like Blue Velvet, Eraserhead and Wild at Heart, but then I got to thinking about one of his earlier movies, The Elephant Man. If you're familiar with any of his more startling works, it's as strange as the Log Lady to think of David Lynch helming a project so lovingly humane and poignant as the true story of John Merrick and his struggle with a congenital disorder. Lynch tends to throw in an innocent among corrupt savages, and much like those films and the series Twin Peaks, there were always a few wide-eyed souls like Kyle MacLachlan's Jeffrey Beaumont or Agent Dale Cooper, set against the amoral tide of foes like Dennis Hopper's maniacal Frank Booth. Good tended to vanquish evil, but not without a lot of freaky-deaky happenings and a cannister of laughing gas.

It's logical to assume David Lynch is the strange one, but looking from a different perspective, his creations feature a mad world because he perhaps envisions himself as the lost babe in the woods, and it's the harsh reality around him that he finds strange and foreboding. Not that I know Lynch personally, but based on interviews and what others have said about him, he seems a bit like Twin Peaks' Agent Dale Cooper. Amiable, kind-hearted, a bit idiosyncratic but never capricious, and very much an apt pupil of life. Maybe that's why Lynch creates such a vivid and sometimes frightening landscape that he populates with wandering innocents, to illustrate his own observations on a modern dystopia, and perhaps share a bit of that anguish over how one wishes it could be made a better place. Thankfully, simple pleasures endure, and a doughnut with a strong cup of coffee can make it all better right before a dancing midget in a red velvet suit comes along to go totally sickhouse on your psyche.

* Post-Script - Thanks to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting the sprinkly-delicious doughnut photo!

UnRecipe: Antipasto is Anti-work-o

God bless the Italians, getting the notion to serve a small plate of edibles to signal that a meal of even more food is yet to come. I skipped the additional courses, but took the creation of an antipasto platter to heart and put together a satisfying and simple lunch whilst entertaining a visiting friend over the weekend.

No need to be fancy, just dig in! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I'm quite keen on these no-cook solutions for a meal because it can be simple, made with a collection of items sitting in the refrigerator, and it doesn't require calling the pizza guy in a chronic fit of "I Don't Know What To Cook!"

There's a lot to be said over the value of an ample supply of pickled vegetables. Their briny state ensures a long fridge-life, and they all tend to play well with one another when eaten together. I had a random collection of spiced green beans, cornichons, cocktail onions, as well as a jar of kalamata olives. I'm sure because the label says "cocktail onions" one is supposed to use them in a cocktail, but I have such a merciless love of strong vinegar flavors, I eat them with abandon, a frosty Gibson or some other old-timey cocktail being optional. I also usually have a jar of pepperocinis, but because they are my absolute favorite of the briny bunch, they are of course the first to be consumed into absence. Combined with a few rough slices of sopressata to round out the protein brigade, the savory component of the meal was complete.

While going to the grocery store, Brock (aka, Mr. Prime) and I happened upon a block of creamy havarti (I love you with all my havarti), and a wedge of raw milk blue cheese. The cheese shopping spree also resulted in a jar of fig preserve, a rich, lovely paste that was a delightful combination of sweet and savory. Poured over the cheese, the preserve added a caramelized sweetness and a bit of crunch from the fig seeds in the jam. To add another sweet component to the Salty vs Sweet throwdown, a nectarine was sliced, and it actually went well with nearly everything served.

I didn't want to rely only on the nibbles and made a salad as backup, using lettuce and peas from the garden, so yes, Mom, we had our greens. The only thing that would have made this meal better was if we were eating it outdoors, in a charming picnic sort of way, but the kitchen counter with a glass of wine or two made the meal dandy enough.

Meat, cheese and pickles -- what more could a girl ask for? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

* Post-Script - Thanks to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting the photo of the antipasto image on their site!

Happy Hour Haunt: Negronked at Naga

What? Reruns already?! Or maybe we just like the drinks at Chantanee's Naga, so damned much that we had to return, much like moths to a Flaming Moe.

J'adore martinis, j'adore L'Aurore - photo by Wasabi Prime

It was Friday night, we were feelin' all-right, and I was with my visiting bestie-best friend whom I lovingly call the Angry Peanut. We were recovering from a popcorn coma from seeing Julie & Julia, and wished to wash it down with a frosty beverage or two. Or three. OK, maybe just one more... Having had a lovely experience with Naga only days before, it was worth a second visit. We had the good fortune of being there to watch cocktail maestro Andrew Bohrer get down to business.

I cast Magic Missle on your drunk ass - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I love a place that has a sense of humor about themselves, even their drinks. The above photo is of an original beverage choice called the 4d6. I think the Spock-pointed ears of nerds are perking up. The menu description says, "If you know what this means, you are a nerd. ... No saving throws needed." I had no choice but to fly my freak flag and admit to knowing its reference so that I could get my hands on their wooden drink dice. I rolled the bones and came up with a combination, but ended up accepting an extra Singapore Sling they had made. What the runes foretold, the bar behold (beheld? Nah, doesn't rhyme), so who am I to question the Powers That Be?

Ice magic, a spicy Smash, the drink that almost was, and the drink that really was - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The Rogue's Gallery of our bartab included the previously enjoyed Kaffir Fling, several trips to the wild blue yonder via the Aviation, their delightfully ice-murdering Mojitos, a spicy number called a Thai Smash, and the seriously good L'Aurore. I particularly enjoyed the Smash, as it featured fresh cilantro; having never experienced it in a drink before, it was a refreshing introduction to find yet another place to use one of my favorite herbs. We were also lucky enough to watch Andrew Bohrer quickly and masterfully hand-carve a chunk of ice down to a perfect sphere for his own Ueno San cocktail, an homage to Hidetsugo Ueno of the Bar High Five in Tokyo. Apparently this is not unusual in high end bars in Tokyo, but as I had never seen this done before, I remain impressed by this practice of the Dō of ice.

Recipe Alert! For those wishing to get Negronked on fancified beverages, Andrew Bohrer was kind enough to serve our girl-drink-drunkard selves, as well as share this recipe for the Aviation:

The Aviation, a classic pre prohibition cocktail

1.5 gin

.5 maraschino

.5 lemon

.13 creme du violet*

Shake strain and garnish with cherry. Add a tiny whisper of simple syrup if people are freaked out by the musky dryness of maraschino.

* WP Note: I realize Creme du Violet isn't in most people's pantries, but if you wish to have a bottle for your very own, I found some available on Drink Up NY's site.

** Post Script - Thanks to Foodgrazing at Serious Eats for posting the L'Aurore photo!!

*** Post-Post Script - Another THANKS to Liqurious for posting the same L'Aurore pic!

** Regarding the wooden dice - the owners of Chantanee were kind enough to contact me and confirm that Andrew Bohrer himself carved the dice, so yet again, more of his signature handiwork graces the Naga bar.

UnRecipe: Thank God It's Tofuday

Sometimes you can't beat a really simple meal after a rough week, especially on the tail-end of a record heat wave. After all, why ruin the stove's week-long break of not being turned on? Let it sleep in for just another day or two. Instead of a complicated Friday dinner, it was more effort to put together the setup for these photos than it was to prepare the grand meal of cold tofu with chili sauce, lime juice, and shoyu (you know, soy sauce).

Oh boy, it's soy! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

As a wee one, my mother would regularly prepare meals with tofu -- heck, she still does, and it's remains a rare treat to watch her cook. She would drain and press the watery slab of soy to remove the excess water, and then cut it down into pristine little white cubes. I would sneak a few pieces before they were introduced into the dish and I always loved the cold, plain, slightly milky flavor of plain tofu. I didn't think much of it then, but when I cook with tofu now, I can't resist doing the same thing and it still resonates that memory of the senses that evoke a less complicated time. Or at least, that's what I like to remember it as. I'm sure at the time, I was probably overwrought with a math test or something.

Now, many years later, the comforting snack has become a full but simple meal. Mixing a bit of fresh lime juice and a squeeze of hot chili sauce into the shoyu, a savory dipping liquid becomes the perfect contrasting flavor. I can't control the weather, or how busy my week will be, but it's a comfort in and of itself to know I can return to something that tastes like home.

Aw, Mom.. it's so cute... can we keep it? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

* Post Script -A joy-for-soy THANK YOU to Tastespotting for posting the Kokeshi doll with tofu photo on their site!! Domo arigato!

** Post-Post Script -Another hearty THANK YOU to the folks at Foodbuzz for putting the same photo on their Top 9 today! Domo arigato, the sequel!

***Post-Post-Post Script - Three times a charm THANKS to Food Photo Blog for putting the spicy tofu pic on their site!

**** Post to the Fourth Power-Script - THANK YOU to Serious Eats' Photograzing for also putting the spicy tofu on their site!

***** Penta-Post-Script - Thanks to Foodie View for posting several pics of the spicy tofu post!

FoodFail: Crater Blueberry Muffins

I saw this on a license plate frame today: "I used to be schizo, but we're OK now." That's a good description for how things are while I move the Old Wasabi at Vox to the New Wasabi here at Blogspot. I promise the recent confusion will subside, and I thank everyone for being patient with the changeover. To alleviate some of this self-imposed busybody-ness, I decided to bake blueberry muffins, as baking can sometimes be a calming thing. Everything leading up to the baking part went smoothly, but I was telling fellow blogger, Ms. Picket Fence, that I wished I lived near or around Crater Lake, Oregon, because then I could have called these Crater Muffins. Let's not ruin the post quite yet and just gaze for a moment at this serene tableaux of ingredients, shall we?

Still life with muffin ingredients, prior to "the Crater Incident" - photo by Wasabi Prime

Per some earlier Tweets this week, I was inspired to do something with blueberries. They're in season and incredibly well-priced right now. I decided to go with the blueberry muffin recipe I found on the charmingly funny blog, Omnomicon. The recipe was originally from Food Happens, and Omnomicon's Aleta had given it a foodie thumb's up. Bless her heart, she wisely advised to lighten up on the pecan and brown sugar topping, as that tends to cause the center of the muffins to collapse a bit while baking. I made sure to heed that bit of advice.

Food pr0n alert!! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

However, I'll be the first to admit that I made a substitution mistake, replacing the buttermilk part of the recipe with Greek yogurt. The recipe said yogurt could be used as a swap, but I think the thicker Greek-style yogurt made the batter more concentrated. I don't know what kind of mad science took place during the baking process, but it wasn't the kind of mad science that creates sexy Kelly LeBrocks from Barbie dolls. No, this crazy mad science created Crater Muffins that, instead of rising into fluffy mounds of goodness, they made a vertical dash for their neighbor and I wound up with sunken-in, crazy Siamese Twin pastries. But you know what? They were still damned tasty.

Pecan and brown sugar topping. It looked better before it went into the oven - photo by Wasabi Prime

While not pleasing in an aesthetic sort of way, the finished muffins were still pleasing in an om-nom-nommic sort of way. I had no trouble eating a couple, and in an act of nutritional defiance, called it dinner. This was probably the least offensive photo I could take of the finished muffins. I placed a little coffee mug with the Finnish cartoon characters, Moomin, as a crutch of happiness to lighten the gravity-stricken baked goods.

Moomins make everything better - photo by Wasabi Prime

Overall, I can't be that discouraged over the result, especially since I knowingly put the batter in harm's way with an untested substitution. I also swapped regular flour with whole wheat, hence the darker color, but I think the Greek yogurt 'twas what done this batter in. Live and learn. I'm still pleased with the photos and weather permitting, may try this recipe again, minus ingredient swaps, before the blueberry harvest peters-out.

I believe it's time for an ingredient montage! - photo by Wasabi Prime

* Post Script * Another big THANK YOU to Tastespotting for posting a photo of the blueberries from this post! As Leo Sayer would say, you make me feel like dancing!

* Post-Post Script - Big blueberry thanks to Photograzing at Serious Eats for posting the 'money shot' of blueberries getting mixed in batter. HOT!

* Post-Post-Post Script - Thanks to Foodie View for posting the pr0n-tastic blueberry mix photo!

UnRecipe: Pad Thai Stir Fry

I discovered two things today: our laundry room makes for a halfway decent photo studio, and Pad Thai is just as delicious without the rice noodles!

From wasabiprime-july photos

The Puget Soundians were given a day of respite from the summer heat, so efforts were quickly mobilized to use the stove and play around with the digital camera to actually take some halfway decent photos of ingredients and the plated food. I notice when it's hot, I tend not to feel the Epic Hunger that I normally do, so maybe that's what allowed me the virtue of patience to make a better effort towards food photography. At the risk of sounding like the star of the I'm Awesome Show, I'm quite pleased with the efforts, and it's encouraged me to put forth more effort in future posts!

The motivation behind this dish was a major jonesin' for pad thai. I have the exact opposite effect with food -- I had Thai food recently and instead of feeling satisfied, I felt like the Audrey II, hungry for seconds. Feed me, Seymour! Sadly, as I write this entry, I just realized I totally forgot to add peanuts into the dish. Crap. And I made the extra trip to the store to make sure I had them! The little Homer Simpson that lives in my head is yelling DOH! right now. What... no one else has a little Homer Simpson living in their head...? No...? Well, moving on...

In lieu of the traditional rice noodles, I was able to use half of the bountiful harvest of snowpeas that are taking over our garden. We went from a small handful of peas to a green pod invasion within the last month. Thankfully the bugs and backyard wildlife have not seen fit to feast upon them, so with any luck, we will be blessed with an abundance of green pea-ness. *giggle*

Along with the snowpeas, I snipped some garlic chives and some of the heartier scallion greens from our veggie garden. A few defrosted chicken breasts sliced thin, stir-fried in a wok with diced tofu, scrambled eggs, and then a healthy dose of the premade Por Kwan pad thai sauce from Uwajimaya, and it was a picture-perfect dinner made for the om-nomming.

From wasabiprime-july photos

* Post Script - Big thanks to Tastespotting for posting the pad thai photo on their site today. Merci Buttercups!!!

** Post-Post Script - Delicious thanks to Photograzing at Serious Eats for posting one of the pad thai photos on their site!

*** Post-Post-Post Script - Third Thanks to Food Photo Blog for posting a closeup shot of the pad thai. Cheers!!

*** Quadruple Post Script - Thanks to the fourth power to Foodie View for the pad thai post!