FoodTrek: Skip the Strip, It's Downtown Vegas, Baby

Glitz and glamour, a fortune at the press of a button, the playground for legendary stars like Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr. and the spiritual home of Elvis Presley -- without even speaking the city's name, we know this to be Las Vegas. You would think Nevada would just cease to exist, because its famously infamous city is a place where you don't have to name the region or the state, you simply mention what happens here, stays here. All-night mega-club parties hosted by the latest (pseudo) celebrity. Beers in bong-sized glasses and cocktails with alarming neon hues. Every headline show is Cirque du Something-or-Other. High end luxury shops seeming to have more locations than Starbucks. It's a place that seems literally made of diamonds, which leads one to think, if we're surrounded by such profane wealth, is it even special anymore? I decided to track down my own diamonds in the rough, and stayed away from the Strip for the most part -- my fortune was made in old-school Downtown Las Vegas.

Keeping in real in Las Vegas, Downtown Style - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Viva La Thanksgiving

And here we are yet again... another Thanksgiving ready to unfurl its tryptophan wings and cast us into a turkey-stuffing-pie food coma vortex. And for those readying to battle the Black Friday shopping crowds, I salute you with a less than enthusiastic wave of a half-eaten turkey leg. Instead of showing a typical Thanksgiving pastoral, I opted to share photos from a recent trip to The Ninth Island (aka, Las Vegas), when my family and I gathered for my cousin Deven's birthday. It wasn't Thanksgiving and there wasn't a roasted turkey to be seen, but it got me thinking about what makes any holiday worthwhile. It's the time we set aside to spend with family, the rare moments everyone's in the same place at the same time, and the chance to sit back and gaze at the family gene pool party. Dive in, y'all, it's the holidays.

See, Las Vegas isn't all seedy hookers and pimps - they keep the nice stuff under glass - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Does our family always get together like this for a birthday? No. But when someone says they want their birthday in Vegas, it's as if God spoke and the whole family jumps on a plane to heed this Almighty call. My cousin Deven turned 42, which is a significant year in Japanese culture -- yakudoshi, like a rite of passage, or a year of chaos, depending on what Google tells you -- so it all basically translates to: let's have a big-ass party. I think that's what every culture is based on, be it feast or famine, we relish the opportunity to celebrate something. It's a good thing, as Saint Martha would say. And that's kind of what Thanksgiving is like, because we're not really celebrating the fact that the Pilgrims came from afar to bring a persecuted religion and smallpox to a trustworthy, indigenous people, we just want an excuse to go on a carb-binge with the cornbread stuffing, eat three pieces of pumpkin pie (with whipped cream), and pass out on the couch by three in the afternoon. Ahh... tradition.

As luck would have it (har-har), my Wasabi Family Vegas Extravaganza took place over Halloween week, so that explains the spooktacular past-due holiday photos. Unlike typical family jaunts to Las Vegas, we made sure to plan some quality family time, like seeing a show and then a nice family dinner on Deven's birthday. There was also a trip to the Hoover Dam, but I missed that, as I was already en route back to rainy Washington, but from what I heard, Hoover Dam was dam good. I will say this -- when you live in the Pacific Northwest and it's already in the middle of nonstop rain and zero-dark-thirty by four in the afternoon, taking a short trip to the sunnier skies of Nevada is like a shot of adrenaline. The temperature is no longer three times the surface of the sun, it remained in the pleasant upper seventies to low eighties, and there was barely a cloud in the sky. My lackluster Vitamin D levels jump at the thought of it.

From rain to shine - a vacation from the rain-soaked Pacific Northwest - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Halloween week in Las Vegas is about what you'd guess -- people dressed in costume, running around Downtown and The Strip, with you playing that mental game in your head: Halloween costume or actual stripper/pimp? October is also the pesky month where a lot of performers go on vacation and the shows take breaks, since it's typically a low-season time, but my cousin found a show he wanted to see -- Criss Angel's Believe at the Luxor -- and seeing a rock n' roll illusion show was actually pretty fitting for Halloween night. I'm always amazed at Las Vegas performers with regular shows, many doing two performances a night, weekdays through weekends. Most people's offices are a little cubicle, but a performer's office is a stage full of pyrotechnics, scary-looking props and a live crowd, which I think can be the scariest thing of all. Regardless of what performer you see in Las Vegas, you can never deny them the art of showmanship and the ability to keep a crowd's attention, which I think is magic all its own.

Vegas Halloween, and the cage where the gambling cheats go - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I was simply told, "Bring a wig," from my other cousin and aunt helping to plan this Halloween Night outing. As good a suggestion as any, really. So a few of us wigged-out, wore funny glasses and we spent a night on The Strip, catching a magic show and seeing all sorts of crazy stuff in and out of the casinos on All Hallow's Eve. I'd have brought my cat's ears headband, but Indy was still using it.

Just like any other night in Las Vegas - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Despite all the family time, I did steal away for a few hours to wander the Strip one afternoon. I mostly wanted to visit the Bellagio and see their seasonal garden display. I'm not a gambler, so seeing pretty garden stuff is my granny-old lady highlight. As always, they aim to impress and the gorgeous autumn harvest-themed display in the atrium area is a must-see, whether you're planning on gambling your kid's college fund away or not.

Talking trees, giant pumpkins and oh yes... WINE! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I managed to snap a few photos of the delightful pastries in one of the Bellagio's specialty bakeries, Jean Phillipe. This bakery is hard to miss -- it's in the retail area and you'll be drawn to the ceiling-high fountain of melted chocolate cascading down a sculpture of blown glass. You're amazed, then you kind of shake your head, thinking: only in Las Vegas. I had to take a moment and admire the beautiful Halloween themed desserts. I know we're not thinking of ghosts and goblins anymore, but you can't help but adore these sweets. I couldn't bear to eat something so cute, so I picked up some buttery, flaky croissant -- chocolate and almond -- and some of their pretty chocolate-dipped biscotti. Maybe not as precious as a pastry ghost, but just as delicious.

Spooky sweets at Jean Phillipe Bakery in the Bellagio - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The Bellagio is pretty close to Caesar's Palace, so I ran in there just to visit their Vosges Chocolate boutique. Their chocolates are exquisite, as is their packaging. Purple boxes and ribbons -- Prince would feel very at-home. I can usually find their bacon-chocolate bar at Whole Foods, but their real gems are of course their truffles, which you either have to order by mail or visit one of their shops. A stupid amount of money later, I had a shopping bag full of holiday gifts, more sweets for my cousin's birthday celebration, and even something sweet to bring home to the Mister. It felt like a total Vegas Moment, shopping for luxury chocolates, surrounded by fake Greek statues and wondering just how the hell they built that spiraling escalator in The Forum Shops.

Hail Caesar and your bitchin' shopping mall - Photos by Wasabi Prime

As a travel note -- if you find yourself buying stuff and wondering if everything will fit into your suitcase, there is a UPS Store right in the Flamingo Hotel, which is right across from Caesar's Palace. Why more hotels don't have UPS Stores is beyond me, but I'm glad for that convenience. It might be an expensive way to get things home, but the way airlines charge for bags, you're spending over twenty five bucks either way, so may as well not have to carry it yourself.

Family dinner time, Election Day-style! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

On the night of my cousin Deven's birthday, his sister Dawn and my Aunt Sharon made sure everyone was decked out in election-themed gear they made ahead of time. Buttons, pamphlets, the whole deal. Not that my cousin is running for office, but at the time, election felt like a fitting theme, plus I have an uncle who's a state senator and his own campaign brochures made for good inspiration material. The whole family gathered at the Second Street Grill in the Fremont Hotel -- because Downtown Vegas is how Hawaii folks roll -- and we wore our fake-candidate buttons proudly for Deven's birthday dinner. Like some crazy Hunger Games thing, we made a "tribute" to Deven and his love of chocolate, piling gifts of sweets from all over the world on the center of the table. I know it wasn't Thanksgiving, but it felt like a long-overdue holiday gathering made even more special since people had to travel a ways to meet up. My cousin Dawn wins the Mileage Award, having traveled all the way from Sweden to attend her brother's birthday. All this and us cousins didn't have to sit at the kiddie table -- who says Vegas isn't a town for winners?

Food, family and funny photos while on The Ninth Island - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Much like Thanksgiving itself, the trip was full of big meals, but it was less about the food and more about the time it gave us to spend together. It was a reminder that no matter what the occasion, however funky the location, time with family is a rare gift. Costume wigs optional. I don't live close to my family, the closest immediate relative is a state away and my parents are nearly an ocean away, so this trip was like Thanksgiving and Christmas, all rolled up into one. I honestly can't think of the last time so many of us got together like this and I can't think of when we'll be able to do this again. So as you gather to feast upon the turkey, raise your head from your plate for a moment to see who's sitting with you. Be thankful for the occasion that brings you and your crazy clan of family members together for a night. Viva La Thanksgiving, y'all.

UnRecipe: Kimchee Soup? That's Hot.

Despite the goodly merits of common sense, I've been on a spice-capade all summer long. Even on the days when we were sweltering in the hot, heavy air of 90-plus degrees in our own living room, my mind would still wander to things like, "I'm miserable but hey... a spicy ramen would be really tasty right about now." I even ventured out into the 100-degree hellfire that is Nevada in July to get -- what else -- kimchee saimin. So that's what the season has left me reduced to: a puddle of flopsweat, slowly inching towards a spicy bowl of kimchee soup.

Sweating summer away - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Why? Why?! WHY?? Maybe the addictive qualities of spicy food in summer is like how the Love in Janet Jackson song goes, like a moth to the flame, burned by the fire... but not really any of the rest of it. I've heard there's an evaporative cooling element in sweating over hot food and letting nature turn your body into a giant swamp cooler. Nice in theory but rather unpleasant, and like most swamp coolers, inefficient as all get-out. There's no way to Spock-logic this one, when the Spicy Bug bites you, the heat is on and it's never turning off.  

Which is why it's always number one on my list to visit Aloha Specialties to get their amazing kimchee saimin, on the second floor of the California Hotel in downtown Las Vegas.  Their menu is all local Hawaii food prepared the way people like it -- ono kine grindz with immense portions. Their kimchee saimin is no different, you could easily jump into the bowl and swim a few laps before the spicy heat reduced you to a withered nub. I had the benefit of getting there earlier in the day, so there were more tasty slices of beef, tofu and kimchee chunks swimming about, plus the broth just tasted more hearty with that peppery beef flavor -- it was probably the best bowl yet. I sweated off a layer of skin and smiled with delight at the vanquishing of this spicy hellbeast. It's an adventure to brave that part of Ye Olde Vegas. About the only thing Downtown has over the semi-gentrified Strip is the quotient of scary drunks and cracked-out bums, aka, The Real Las Vegas, but I did notice a new zipline "ride" that you can take which spans the length of the covered Fremont Street. No thanks, I'll take my deep fried Twinkies and creep away with what's left of my dignity. However, I'm not going to lie, I was disappointed I missed Night Ranger.

The heat is on, as is Night Ranger - Photos by Wasabi Prime

To drown my missing-Night Ranger-sorrows upon returning to the not so hellfire-hot land of Washington, I made a spicy kimchee soup of my own. In typical UnRecipe fashion, it was made with pretty much whatever vegetables were left that didn't get prepared before I left on my trip. Which is to say, it was a lot of veggies; so much so that I didn't add any noodles to the soup. I defrosted about two quarts of chicken broth, but any broth would do. I seared some thin slices of pork in a super-hot wok and got a good sizzle going on a mix of vegetables like strips of carrot, onion and even slices of sweet potato. Yeah, everything was going into the soup-pool. Right before I added the broth to deglaze the wok, I added some broccoli, bok choi and mushrooms. Then a whole jar of kimchee, pickling brine and all. Don't be scared, it's what makes this whole soup worthwhile. The broth was flavored with an extra dose of pepper/chili Korean kochujang sauce and soy sauce. I threw in dashes of rice wine vinegar to give it the tartness of a hot and sour soup. Large pieces of firm tofu were added last, right before serving, so they wouldn't get broken apart.

I was making this soup quite literally by the seat of my pants, as I'd never made kimchee soup before. I'd had versions of it as a stew, fried rice or saimin, but not like this. The devil-may-care attitude towards cooking was rewarded, as the soup turned out totally delicious, getting better like a stew as the flavors concentrated every day. Sweet potatoes added a slight sugary bite to combat the salty spiced broth. Even if it wasn't exactly like the saimin at Aloha Specialties, it curbed a major craving. Asian cuisine is actually quite basic and the strong flavored sauces tend to rely on the same ingredients like vinegar, soy, garlic and ginger to really punch those tastebuds in the kisser. If loving spicy food in the middle of summer is wrong, I don't want to be right. I also know it'll probably be Instant Rainy Season soon enough, and something like this will totally hit the spot.

FoodTrek: Saimin Says Eat More Noodles

I don't ask for much of this crazy, madcap world. I'm a simple Wasabi, puttering along on this mortal coil like everyone else. I like my beer cold, my fried chicken crispy and I want my saimin noodles crinkly. It used to be if I wanted a really authentic bowl of Hawaii-style saimin, I'd just wait for my next visit to the Aloha State. Luckily, I found a place a little closer, and it's just down south, in Kent, at Saimin Says.

Saimin Says in Kent - way closer than a flight to Hawaii - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I've been to Hawaii-style places on the Mainland, and to be honest, it's hit or miss. If the menu is full of pineapple-covered dishes and syrupy-sweet teriyaki beef, I hate to burst your bubble, but yo, that ain't Hawaii. I was recommended this place on good authority by Lisa Nakamura, a local chef/restaurant owner, overall awesome person and daughter of Aloha, and she wasn't wrong -- Saimin Says has some ono kine grindz that are plenty broke da mouth good. My main craving was saimin, the noodle soup that's unique to Hawaii. I've spoken oodles about these noodles in the past, that it's a spinoff of Japanese ramen, but with a lighter broth, and it's usually filled with the usual suspects: shreds of char siu pork, scrambled egg ribbons, fish cake/kamaboko and yes -- Spam. For me, the mark of quality is the noodle itself -- I prefer the wrinkly, slightly chewy "Hilo Style" noodle. This is always the hardest thing to find, as it's probably easier for places to get whatever noodles are available, and they never quite past muster on texture, at least for me.

I want a saimin quilt - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Noodle snobbery aside, I knew this place was legit when I saw their menu, whose mixed bento plate offerings are called hemajang, which is Pidgin for mixed up or confused, but it totally works for bento platters. They serve chili water as a condiment, which is exactly what it sounds like -- chopped up chili peppers in water, although they must add something extra as their chili water is a bright orange color and is deceptively Tang/astronaut juice-like. Don't drink it, just use sparingly. And they offer the three-layered fruit-flavored rainbow cake for dessert, where you usually use Jello to dye the batter and you have to layer it just right to get that perfect separation of colors. I used to call it "rainbow cake" -- so complex, right? But I know it was a popular staple at potluck parties and someone would always bring it.

But what about the saimin? It's about as close to Hawaii as you'll get without buying the ticket and sitting on the plane for five hours. And hey, they have a quilt with saimin as the pattern -- that's the banner of Saimin Thug Life, right there. The soup broth is flavorful -- nice and salty -- and the noodles were a little soft, but still had the basic texture I was looking for. They offer a few different varieties but I went with the Papa Jim Min, which had the mix of char siu, Spam and eggs, but also had two asteroid-sized wontons. For a first-time visit, I thought this would be the perfect combination. I was waffling between that and the Pocho Min, which had Portuguese sausage in it. That's OK -- gotta save something for a next visit!

Fried saimin and two scoops'  aplenty - Photos by Wasabi Prime

My biggest hurdle is the limited space of even the hungriest of stomachs. I was glad to have partners in crime with me on this visit, as I was there with Lisa as well as the fantastic Julien Perry of Seattle Weekly's Voracious fame -- she wrote about the visit on her column in the Weekly! She ordered the lau lau platter, which is slow-cooked pork with butterfish, wrapped in ti leaves and served with the all-important two scoops of carbohydrate K-O, mac salad and rice. It's another flagship Hawaiian dish and it looks like Saimin Says does it right. I also saw some other items on their menu that I will most definitely order for another visit, like their pork tonkatsu and kalbi beef. Their menu has all the main lunch specials, mostly beef, pork and chicken. They have poke, but it's a special that's served depending on the seafood they have on-hand, which is the right way to go with raw ocean goodies. But they serve the homestyle favorites and the menu just made me anxious to go back. Before I left, I made sure to get an order of their fried saimin to-go, which is the only practical way to really take saimin home with you. It's basically saimin but without the broth, stir-fried with extra vegetables and meat. It was good, but I think I'll go with a bento to-go next time. Again, weird Wasabi personal preference, but I like my fried saimin with a little char on the noodles and a little more crispness overall. But that doesn't change my opinion over Saimin Says, it just makes me want to go again and try more of their dishes, as I'm sure it's going to taste like the favorites from Wasabi Mom's kitchen.

A postscript to this post -- since visiting Saimin Says for the first time, I of course had to heed the Siren Song of Saimin and return again. Went on a Sunday for breakfast and tackled their Fried Spam Locomoco. Which, much like the movie title, Snakes on a Plane, is just that -- slices of Spam covered with panko crumbs, fried crisp, and topping rice with gravy and a fried egg. Will I tell my doctor about this? No. Will I tell you it was incredibly delicious and could have eaten more plates of the stuff? Hell, yes. The fried goodness of their Mochiko Chicken looked mighty fine as well -- my friend got that with a heap of mac salad and rice. Consider that number one with a hungry bullet the next time I head to Saimin Says.

UnRecipe: The Lord of the Leftovers - Thanksgiving Trilogy

Humorist Calvin Trillin had this to say about leftovers: The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found. While I can say with certainty the origin of our triple-header leftover saga was the gut-busting feast of Thanksgiving, it's not an unknown occurrence in the Wasabi household to have leftovers stretched to near-infinite meals. For better or worse, my parents never liked to throw out food, and that mentality of "waste not" was forever drilled into my Wasabi brain. Our current surplus of ham, turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce led to this Episode I, II and III of meals: Thanksgiving Skillet Hash, Thanks-for-Giving Savory Bread Pudding, and a Truly Leftover Turkey Ramen.

Seattle Skillet Sensation Club - chances are, you've been a member since college. - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Skillet hash is probably one of the most leftover-friendly meals to make. It's UnRecipe to the tenth power, as no measuring or ingredient-fretting is needed. Depending on how many hungry people are needing to be fed, you just take a bit of protein like a handful of finely chopped ham and turkey, add something starchy, which in our case was the leftover roasted sweet potatoes, and throw it all in a heated skillet. The fat from the ham and the turkey skin melts down a bit in the pan, creating a nice sizzle for the sweet potatoes. I also scattered a bit of cranberry sauce over the hash to give it a little tartness. Once everything is fully incorporated and heated through, make a shallow little well in the hash and crack an egg right in. Depending on how many people it's being made for, one egg per person will do. Turn the heat down to medium and cover the top of the skillet with a bit of tin foil to trap the heat and cook the top of the egg to whatever doneness you prefer. I like the consistency of a poached egg, so I let the top of the egg get a bit opaque but the yolk is still liquid inside. Depending on how large a skillet and how many eggs are being used, this final step should only take a few minutes.

Everything was already well-seasoned from their past life as a dinner, so no salt or pepper required. I do like Tabasco with my eggs, so I added a splash or two right before the omming and nomming. The Thanksgiving Skillet Hash was made across several breakfasts, and more than a couple of times, I made this for a party of one because we have a couple of small pans. Yes, I did eat it right out of the skillet, furthering solidifying my membership with the Seattle Skillet Sensation Club, a secret society of plateless skillet-eaters created by foodie blogger and future chef, Eric Rivera. As Rachel of Laptops and Stovetops fame noted, if eating out of a skillet is wrong, I don't want to be right. Amen to that.

Savory bread pudding -- just throw everything in and bake it! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Thanksgiving Leftovers, the Sequel turned into a savory bread pudding. We wound up with a refugee band of dinner rolls and despite our tendency to leave out breads and pastas in our meals, the voice of my parents' Waste Not wisdom was in back of my mind like Obi-Wan. Or perhaps it was Lord Vader of the Carbohydrate Dark Side. Either way, I wanted to use up as much of the Thanksgiving leftovers as possible. Cubing the rolls and letting them toast in the oven to dry out, I took all the rest of the ham and turkey and chopped it into bite-sized pieces. There wasn't really any measuring involved in this UnRecipe because it was one of those "stone soup" meals that just uses everything available. Savory bread puddings, much like a skillet hash, have that lovely flexibility when it comes to ingredients. If they paired well as a meal of main courses and sides, there's no reason they can't be mashed together as a leftover delight.

I used the remaining half-and-half from the coffee and dessert portion of Thanksgiving to make a loose custard for the oven-dried cubed rolls. It was maybe a half a cup's worth. Mixed with a couple of eggs, the creamy, viscous liquid soaked into the now-crispy breadcubes. I probably could have skipped the oven-drying of the bread, but I like taking all the moisture out of bread first, so that it soaks up whatever new liquid and flavor that's being reintroduced to it. The ham, turkey, stuffing, and remainder of the cranberry sauce was already cooked, so once the bread was fully soaked with the custard, the savory bits were tossed with the bread, and a few slices of remaining cheese from the appetizer course of Thanksgiving was laid over the top to create a melty topping in the oven. Again, because everything had been pre-seasoned, I added maybe a few cracks of pepper and that's it. The oven set up the pudding, leaving the bottom part creamy and fused together, while the top crisped in the dry heat. Sliced into wedges, this made for easy lunches for the week.

Thanksgiving dinner -- good to the last drop. Photo by Wasabi Prime

The final meal that furthered Thanksgiving leftovers into the realm of, "Holy Hell, aren't you sick of this yet??" used the most basic, but flavorful part -- the turkey broth. I still had several cups' worth of a concentrated turkey stock made from the whole bird. Some of it was originally used for gravy, but the rest was reserved knowing it could be used for a number of things. I had seen a number of soups and stew recipes flying around on blogs and Tweets, but at this point, I had been sick with a cold and a craving for ramen won out in the end. Feeling too sick to hit the store and the fact that most of the Thanksgiving remnants were spoken for, it became a resourceful ramen that came together with pantry items and basic ingredients.

When the sniffles hit, some people crave chicken soup or grilled cheese sandwiches -- mine is either miso soup or ramen. More to the point, I crave a Hawaii-style saimin, which uses a thinner shoyu broth and yes, Spam is involved. Be it ever so humble, there's nothing that eases my sickly aches and pains like a savory, salty broth with chewy noodles, shredded fried egg, and slices of fried Spam on top. The ramen dashi came together with all the remaining turkey stock, water to thin it out, a splash of vinegar, several splashes of soy sauce, and a stalk of lemongrass (I keep them in the freezer; you'll be thankful if you do the same). The resulting flavor was a salty, sour broth that isn't necessarily traditional, it was just what my flu-riddled palate needed. I had the fortune of finding a few packets of fresh noodles stashed in the freezer. They weren't the firm, wrinkly Hilo-style saimin noodles I love best, but given my state of health, I wasn't about to complain.

Maybe waving the banner of Team Leftovers makes the Prime seem extra provincial, but I don't think it's too shabby a thing to think fast in the kitchen and cook by the seat of one's pantry. Given my newly-minted status as a Lady of Leisure, I anticipate many more at-home meals of UnRecipe inspiration.