Han Ju

Occasion: Impromptu high school reunion (Fran and Dean, Elgent and Amy, Tony, Warren, Tania, Jason, Alfred, Bib, Marianne, and non-high school friends Sahoko and Doug and their little girl, Hiona)
Location: Han Ju Tofu Hot Pot on Capstan Way in Richmond
Edibles: Korean bbq beef on rice, with various sides piled on top

Musings: Not much to say about the food. It's cheap and decent enough. Note that it looks pretty substantial in the picture but the dish isn't very deep; more than one guy ordered a second dinner after mowing through his first.

The company was the main attraction. Most of these people I only get to see once every couple of years, if that. After dinner, we went to a Tim Horton's and spent hours reminiscing and poring over old yearbooks. As the sunscreen speech goes, "Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young."

Le Crocodile

Occasion: Celebratory dinner with the family, for my upcoming birthday and my brother's stellar LSAT score (congrats, kid!)
Location: Le Crocodile on Burrard at Smithe (lecrocodilerestaurant.com)
Edibles: I had three apps for my meal - foie gras terrine with toast points, a crabcake, and salmon three ways ("west coast" style, smoked, tartare), with tiramisu and a latte to finish; my sister had the halibut with beurre blanc sauce and linguine (no app); my brother started with the steak tartare and had the same halibut main; my mom started with the salmon trio, followed by escargots, followed by a prawn and scallop dish with angelhair pasta; my dad had half a dozen raw Kusshi oysters and a duck main course

Musings: The best French restaurant I know in Vancouver. The interior is small and intimate, with rich but understated colors. The waitstaff tends to be comprised of the career type; they are uniformly calm and capable. The food is high quality and incredibly consistent. And yet... it's rare that I have a completely satisfying experience here (which I demand at this price point).

For example, my dad still hasn't forgiven them the time they charged him twice the corkage fee quoted over the phone. That night, he gritted his teeth and shelled out $80 for the two bottles we brought, prevented from arguing with the manager by the presence of guests. I think my dad needs to get over it, but I also think that if a restaurant employee tell a customer something by mistake over the phone, the restaurant should honor the original statement, if only as a one-time exception.

For tonight, I e-mailed for a reservation at 7:00. They returned with a confirmation for 6:30. When we walked into the restaurant, it was more than half empty. If so, why not just give people the reservation they want? Le Crocodile does good business, but I doubt they turn every single table on a weeknight.

I ordered a cocktail, and my martini filled half the glass, no exaggeration. For looks alone, either mix a more generous drink or use a smaller glass. It also tasted terrible.

My mood definitely improved when the food started arriving. The foie terrine and crabcake are two old favorites, and they tasted as good as the first time I had them years ago. (The terrine really should be shared; it's a huge slab too rich for one person to finish, even by my greedy standards.) I also enjoyed my salmon trio, though I found the west coast one to be too sweet. I had a nibble of my brother's boldly seasoned tartare and one of my mom's buttery, garlicky escargots - both yummy.

The food at Le Crocodile is plated old-school; it's all very precise, ornate, sauced and garnished up the wazoo. The culmination was my dessert - a tiramisu painstakingly built in a chocolate demitasse cup, complete with tuile spoon.

It's nice for a special occasion but, for me, Le Crocodile just misses the mark for being a true top-flight restaurant.

St. Germain Bakery

Location: Oakridge Shopping Centre in Vancouver, among others

Best loaf of bread in the city.

I remember when there was only one out-of-the-way location (on Cambie, I think) and we would go especially for the bread. The three of us kids would eat half the thing in the car, ripping chunks off the fragrant, freshly-baked, sometimes still hot loaf. My mom would grumble about crumbs, but then even she would succumb and ask for a corner.

You now have to special-order a full loaf of their unsliced white bread, a weighty, ponderous column almost the length of your arm. (You can get smaller portions of pre-sliced bread any time.) It has a silky-fine crumb and is chewy and substantial in the mouth, yet somehow avoids being dense. When sliced thickly, toasted and slathered with butter, it's a superb breakfast. Or afternoon snack. Or a bite for whenever you happen to wander through the kitchen.

(They also do good repertoire of Chinese cakes and pastries.)

Tapastree [closed]

Occasion: Dinner with high school buds Tania, Warren, Bib and Alfred
Location: Tapastree on Robson off Denman (tapastree.ca)
Edibles: buttermilk fried chicken with aioli; flatiron steak with gorgonzola sauce; chicken livers with tomatoes, brandy and black pepper; duck confit with cranberry compote; lamb chops; tomato bocconcini avocado salad; grilled asparagus; ahi tuna with ponzu and Chinese mustard; wild mushrooms with goat cheese on toast; sticky toffee pudding; crème brûlée

Musings: I've been coming here for ages. Ages. So long, in fact, that most of my Vancouver friends refer to it as "my" tapas place. (It was originally Sylvia's, and her ex Ollie's before her, but I've been the most devoted over the years.) Sadly, many of the dishes I loved best are no longer on the menu - I'm still mourning the loss of those amazing fried oysters - but the new offerings are wonderful too.

I think we ordered all of their meat dishes. My favorite was probably the fried chicken, with the steak and lamb running a close race for second.

The veggie dishes aren't slouches, though. The wild mushroom dish is a perennial favorite, and though I was outvoted on the Japanese eggplant this particular dinner, I usually get that as well. The asparagus we did order was decent, but I thought it was a tad overpriced at $9.

A shocking revelation did take place at the end of the meal, when the waitress came to take our dessert orders. It happened almost by accident. In the course of ordering our fancy coffees, we were (or at least I was) aghast to discover that the kitchen does not stock full fat milk!! Just 2%!!

Horrors.

Okay. First, how can you claim to offer a decent after-dinner coffee without full fat milk? Second - and more chilling - how do you make your crème brûlée?!?! (Which, despite its name, contains no cream. The custard is made with milk.) I understand not getting it through your bulk supplier but there's a Safeway just across the street - why not keep a few litres in the walk-in?

I calmed down a little after a generous dose of sticky toffee pudding. A little.

Dairy scandal aside, our varied and delicious meal, bottle of white, dessert, tip and tax came out to $45 a person. Karen and Josie, I'm looking forward to taking you guys here in February! I may bring my own milk.

Adonia

Occasion: Tea with Jess (who I had possibly not seen since we graduated from high school)
Location: Adonia Tea House on W 41st Ave in Vancouver (adoniatea.com)
Edibles: I had the lobster bisque and peach tea; Jess had the carrot soup and English breakfast tea; we split a BLT to fill in the gaps

Musings: Charming, fussy and cosy, like the living room of a storybook English grandmother. I do slightly prefer the yuppie farmhouse vibe of Secret Garden Tea, but when Secret Garden told us it'd be 45 min. for a seat, we scooted around the corner and down the block to Adonia, where we were seated immediately.

My peach tea was thick and pulpy, more like a fruit pureé than a tea, but its sweet summery brightness was more than welcome on that chilly, grey Vancouver afternoon. My mom, knowing about my trials and tribulations with lobster stock, mentioned that Adonia had a good bisque, and that she might be able to get me the recipe if I liked it. (The owner is one of my many unofficial "aunties.") I did like it. It was flavorful and savory but not too boozy, as bisques can often be. I'll have to get my mom on that recipe's trail, pronto.

It was wonderful to catch up, Jess - let's not wait 10 years for the next one, eh?

Sun Sui Wah

Occasion: Dim sum with the family
Location: Sun Sui Wah on No. 3 Road in Richmond (sunsuiwah.com) [Note: another location in Vancouver proper]
Edibles: har gao; shu mai; fish congee; shrimp fun; pan-fried daikon cake; leaf tripe; spring rolls; rice with chicken and Chinese sausage; Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce; tapioca pudding; mango pudding; egg tarts (you eat with my mom, you leave the table groaning in pain)

Musings: My go-to dim sum place in Vancouver. They were one of the last restaurants in Vancouver to still have the little old ladies pushing the carts around; they've recently gone over to the dark side, a.k.a. the order form.

Sun Sui Wah's food is solid across the board, from the gringo favorites like shu mai to more obscure animal extremities and organs, should you feel more adventurous. The chicken rice, in particular, is not to be missed.

Mmmm... Christmas Dinner

Occasion: Christmas Eve dinner at home with my family
Edibles: prosciutto butter roast turkey; gravy; classic mashed potatoes; brussels sprouts with bacon; homemade cranberry sauce; candied yams

My sister campaigned hard this year for turkey at Christmas. She argued - quite persuasively - that Christmas Day just wasn't the same without my mom's leftover turkey mi fun. So we had ham for Thanksgiving and saved this menu until now:

Prosciutto Butter Roast Turkey
(based on Martha's Turkey 101)

We do a dry rub of salt, pepper, and seasoning spice (the scary orangey spice mix they sell at the grocery store) the day before. Day of, I stuff prosciutto butter (my own invention - slices of prosciutto chopped up and mashed into a stick of softened butter) under the skin. The butter keeps the white meat really moist, while the prosciutto flavors the meat and results in a very attractive thin layer of russet under the skin when you slice into it.

Just follow Martha's Turkey 101 for roasting temperatures and timing, the basting liquid, and the cheesecloth trick. [Slight divergences from Martha: My stuffing requires the giblets and my mom likes the neck (which we roast in the pan along with the turkey), so we use commercial chicken stock for the basting liquid. I also shortcut the gravy by making a packet of the powdered stuff and adding some pan drippings.]

When carving, I use Ina's method of removing an entire breast, then slicing it on a cutting board so that each piece gets some of the skin.

I confess, I bungled the turkey this year. Alton convinced me that stuffing is evil, so this year I decided to put some aromatics (a clove of garlic, a quartered onion, wedges of orange) in the cavity and bake the "stuffing" in a dish on the side.

Problem is, when I make actual stuffing, I take the turkey out of the fridge in the morning and it comes to room temperature while I make the stuffing and wait for it to cool. This time, I didn't remember to take the turkey out of the fridge until the late afternoon, and so didn't have time to let the chill dissipate before we had to stick it in the oven. Big mistake. We cooked the turkey the same amount of time we always do, and the dark meat was still half-raw when we carved into it. (I know, I know, I need to get a meat thermometer.)

Luckily, the white meat was fully cooked so we had that for dinner and stuck the rest of the turkey back in the oven. (It took another hour and a half to cook all the way through. What a difference a few degrees make!)

I also forgot to make the stuffing. Sigh. Good thing we didn't have guests.

Mashed Potatoes

Just like my beurre noisette mashed potatoes, except you just use regular butter.

Brussels Sprouts with Bacon

Trim and clean brussels sprouts; halve any large ones. Chop up some bacon. In a pan, cook the bacon until the fat is rendered and the bacon bits are crispy. Remove the bacon but leave the fat. Sauté the brussels sprouts in the bacon fat for a few minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Splash in a little chicken stock. Cover and steam for about 5 min, until the brussels sprouts are cooked through but still have some bite to them. Sprinkle with the bacon bits before serving.

Cranberry Sauce
(based on Ina's recipe)

1 bag of fresh cranberries
1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped
1¼ cups sugar
1 lemon, juice and zest
a squirt of honey
a splash of dessert wine or white wine

Wash the cranberries and discard any that feel soft and pulpy. Cook in a saucepan for about 20 min with all the other ingredients. It will look fairly runny in the pan, but the pectin in the apple will help it set up as it cools. If the cranberry skins really bother you, you can strain the sauce through a china cap. (I find that the sauce is too thick to strain well, and you will lose some volume.)

Cranberry sauce is astoundingly easy to make, and tastes leagues better than the stuff from a can. Once you taste this, you'll never go back.

Variations: To jazz it up, you can add a ½ cup of chopped walnuts and/or raisins. To give is some muscle, use grappa instead of wine.

Candied Yams

At our house, we have candied yams for dessert. This dish and my stuffing are based on recipes from my Great-aunt Angela. They're a little white trash sounding, even though my great-aunt is Chinese and firmly white collar. Not really sure of the story behind it.

yams, halved and sliced into ½-inch slices
butter
mini marshmallows

Butter a baking dish and dump the sliced yams in. Dot generously with butter and throw in about a handful of marshmallows per yam. Cover with foil and bake at 375° for 30 to 45 min, until the yams are soft and falling apart. You might give it a bit of a stir in the middle to make sure everything is coated in the syrup.

This recipe will work for any number of yams, depending on how many people you're serving. Just increase the amounts of butter and marshmallows accordingly. Increase cooking time as well if the yams get more than about three layers deep in your baking dish (it's pretty hard to overcook this dish, so I wouldn't stress out about it).

Penelope

Occasion: Combined review - brunch with my Penn girls, Kathy, Yining and Huijin (in town from Hong Kong) on 12/12, and brunch with Sylvia a week later (12/19)
Location: Penelope on Lex at 30th (penelopenyc.com)
Edibles: 12/12 - omelet for me; pumpkin waffles with dried cranberries and pecans for Huijin; egg sandwich with pesto for Kathy; a Benedict-eque egg dish with smoked salmon for Yining; 12/19 - we shared a spinach and cheese omelet and the Nutella French toast

Musings: Penelope is the sort of charming little place you'd find in abundance on the westside. Given that it's located in the dead zone of midtown east, you can imagine the locals are nuts about it. Be prepared to wait an hour for a table at brunch.

The food is worth the wait, though. I'm basically incapable of going to brunch and not ordering eggs. In that sense, Penelope's menu works against me. Their savory brunch options are solid, but it's their sweet dishes that are truly outstanding. The waffles were great on 12/12 and the Nutella French toast was the best dish I tasted, period. They also make good coffee and are diligent about refilling your cup.

If you want to avoid the crowds, Penelope's is also a good place for a regular weekday lunch or dinner.

L'Artusi

Occasion: Birthday dinner for Elizabeth
Location: L'Artusi on W 10th between Hudson and Bleecker (lartusi.com)
Edibles: I had the scallop crudo, followed by the grilled quail with pancetta and sweet potatoes; Elizabeth had the bucatini with pancetta and tomato, and the braised pork special; Abby had the pizzocheri (a pasta dish with brussels sprouts, fontina and sage)

Musings: I'd love to know what the decorator was going for. The interior screams hip and trendy for sure, but also struck me as sort of Pottery Barn meets Abercrombie, which I doubt was the intent. There is a lovely private-ish area upstairs, framed by racks of wine and more brightly lit than the rest of the tables, perfect for a larger group.

The food was good overall, if somewhat overpriced. My crudo, for example, was wonderfully fresh and delicate. But the slices probably didn't amount to more than one whole scallop, so it was pricey at $13. The quail sat in a fantastic broth. Unfortunately, the chef used too heavy a hand with the rosemary and not enough of one with the salt. Abby's "pasta" had good flavors; texture-wise, it seemed more like a cheesy dip than a noodle dish. But maybe you're into that.

Mmmm... stewed pork on rice

I hesitated over posting on today's cooking. I (obviously) did it, but I'm warning you in advance that this "recipe" is even more vague my recipes usually are. It's my mom's, and not only did she not have any quantitative measurements to begin with, but I also lost track of my own measurements while fiddling with it and trying to get it to taste like hers. My best advice for mastering this dish, if you're at all interested in doing so, is to call me up one day and have me cook it for you once.  =)

Mom's Stewed Pork Sauce
(sort of a Chinese bolognese)

2 lbs of ground pork
6 shallots, finely chopped
soy sauce
water
cooking wine (I used a traditional Chinese salted rice wine this time, but I've also used vodka in a pinch)
honey or sugar
pepper
nutmeg (my addition; can omit)

In a large pot, pour in a puddle of oil and cook the shallots thoroughly, until they're a uniform deep mahogany brown. Add the pork and brown. Break up any clumps of meat; you want as fine a texture of cooked pork as you have the patience for. Add a generous glug of cooking wine, soy sauce, your sweetener of choice, pepper and nutmeg to season (taking into account the water that will be added next). Add water until it covers the meat, plus an inch. Simmer over low heat for at least 1 hour.

About a half hour in, you can add up to a dozen peeled, hard-boiled eggs to stew in the sauce. Instant side dish!

Serve over rice.

The Man Who Ate the World

by Jay Rayner

My review: 3/5 stars

A decent enough food book, but a thought struck me early on and only became more reinforced as I read: Jay Rayner is a journalist first and a foodie second. His first love is clearly words; the book takes place too much in his head and not enough in his mouth.

Some distractingly bad copy-editing. For example, there's a hotel, the name of which is spelled two different ways on successive pages. Oh, and if there's one word you need to get right in a book about food, that word is "palate."

Worth borrowing from the library if you're into food porn (as I unapologetically am) but not a keeper for the permanent shelf.

An excerpt below from my favorite chapter - on New York City, natch. (I clipped and reformatted liberally, too much to faithfully use ellipses or any other notations. Just imagine they're scattered throughout.)

"I go straight to a food discussion board called Opinionated About. The thread I want, the one I have been waiting for, is finally there. It's located exactly where it should be: in the 'Formal Dining' part of the website, under 'New York.' The first post had gone up about an hour before and is by a man called Steve Plotnicki.

There are a couple of dozen photographs, all of them of plated food: an egg in an egg cup with a turban of cream piled high with shiny black caviar; slices of fish, fanned across the plate and drizzled with a sauce in a funky shade of yellow. There is a duck dish and a foie gras dish, and a whole bunch of other things besides. Plotnicki has invited the members of this site to identify where the meal that these dishes were a part of, was taken.

The first response had been posted just twenty-four minutes after the original. Samantha's message says simply "Per Se." I note that Samantha hasn't bothered with a question mark. She is certain she is right.

She is. "That was one of the places we ate at," Plotnicki replies.

A few minutes later someone called Ian chips in. "Eleven Madison Park and WD-50." Again, no question mark.

"That makes three," Plotnicki says. "Two to go."

Ian is on a roll. "Jean-Georges."

"You're a clever lad," Plotnicki says. "One left."

Now the first note of disbelief creeps in, from a poster called Scotty. "Five dinners in one night? Respect."

"How does one logistically eat that many meals @ dinner?" asks another.

"Some serious eating there chaps," says a third. "I applaud your bravery and your gluttony."

Plotnicki explains: these dishes were part of a restaurant crawl taking in five of the very best restaurants in the city - no more than two or three small, tasting-menu-sized courses in each place - that it was prearranged and that the two diners involved were't always served the same dish, which explains the large number of photographs. Not that any of this is news to me. I know all the details. I know all the dishes. As he has already said, Plotnicki was not alone in this adventure. He had an accomplice. That accomplice was me."

Top Chef Las Vegas Finale

Original Air Date: December 9, 2009

1) That pictures says it all, doesn't it? Congratulations, Mike! I think it was the right result for several reasons. Mike presented the most ambitious menu. Bryan already has his own restaurant. Plus, I feel like he's already the chef he's going to be for the rest of his life, whereas Mike still has unexplored frontiers.
2) Looks like the perfect meal would have been:
     - Kevin's first course: fried chicken skin (uh, YUM) with squash casserole and
       tomato
     - Mike's second: dashi-glazed rock fish with sweet and sour crab salad, squash
       and lemon
     - Bryan's third: venison saddle with sunchoke purée and orange-juniper sauce
     - a tie between Bryan's dessert (white chocolate and dulce de leche
       cheesecake and fig sorbet over dry caramel) for actual execution and Mike's
       dessert (chocolate caramel coulant, butternut squash brûlée, ice-cream and
       candied pumpkin seeds) for concept.
3) I think the match-ups worked against Bryan in the sense that his food probably wouldn't have come across as bland if it was all you were eating. But compared to Mike's complex flavors and Kevin's down-home boldness (he strikes me as a guy who seasons with a heavy hand), his dishes got a little drowned out.
4) I'm very sad about Kevin. I'm guessing the combination of Preeti's bumbling sous-cheffery and the weird ingredients in the mystery box really threw him off his game. But. Dude. Don't choose a slow-cooking method for your protein if you don't have enough time!! And what happened to all the fun sauces he made earlier in the season? Fact is, he coasted a little in these last two rounds and was scared to go outside his comfort zone.
5) I can't believe the final four accounted for 9 of 13 Quickfire wins and ALL the Elimination wins of the season (12 of 13 for the final three - another reason why it was right that Jen came in fourth). It was obvious from the start that some cheftestants would dominate, but that's pretty amazing.

And that's a wrap, folks!

Top Chef Las Vegas Ep. 13

Original Air Date: December 2, 2009

1) I was sad to see Jen go, but her track record was the spottiest of the folks left. I mean, she really flubbed Restaurant Wars, as well as a whole bunch of other challenges. By that measure, it was right she was the one to go home.

2) Still, a pinch of salt - that's the margin for error with these finalists.
3) Considering how lopsided this season was in terms of talent, it might have been more fun with a format like Masters. Something like double eliminations every episode and four rounds of finals. (Jen would have been booted even earlier, though.)
4) Kevin's "toothsome" comment - what a lawyer move. Too bad the judges didn't buy it.
5) I hate Padma's bangs. I think they make her look like Spock.

Mmmm... chicken pot soup

So named because I made it by accident once while trying to make chicken pot pie filling - added WAY too much milk. Now I make it this way on purpose so I don't have to fiddle with pastry for the pot pie. If you're making it for a dinner party, call it Chicken Fricassée.

Chicken Pot Soup
(based on Martha's chicken pot pie filling)

8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
2 onions, coarsely chopped
5 carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped
2 lbs of mushrooms (white or crimini), quartered
1 packet of frozen peas (I like the bigger garden peas)
½ stick of butter
¼ cup flour
2 cups milk
2 cups chicken stock
thyme
salt and pepper

Boil the chicken in salted water with the carrot and onion trimmings (or with actual mirepoix and a bouquet garni if you're feeling ambitious). Chicken should be cooked through. Remove from water, pat dry and shred into bite-sized pieces. Reserve the chicken; discard the cooking water and flotsam.

In a large pot, melt the butter and sauté the onions and carrots. Sprinkle in the flour, and cook for a while in the fat to get rid of the raw flour taste, a.k.a. make a roux. Add the milk and stock. Add cooked, shredded chicken and mushrooms. Season with thyme, salt and pepper. Let it stew for a while, 30 min to 1 hour. Add the peas about 10 min before you intend to eat it. Garnish with fresh parsley if you have some lying around.

Variations: It's soup. It's very forgiving, so customize away! If you're a philistine who doesn't like dark meat, use white meat. For added richness, use 1 cup milk and 1 cup cream. I don't like pearl onions, but feel free to fling those in, if you like them. Other vegetables will also work - Ina's vegetable pot pie has butternut squash, fennel, potatoes, asparagus and green beans (just be careful not to overcook the last two).

Mmmm... burrata from Murray's Cheese

Location: Murray's Cheese in the Grand Central Market (murrayscheese.com) [Note: another location in Greenwich Village]

Murray's is practically synonymous with cheese in the city. And it's easy to see why: they've got excellent selection and the staff really know their business. Recently, I was thrilled to discover that, among its many charms, Murray's carries burrata.

For the uninitiated, burrata is a special subset of mozzarella, and an artisanal cheese in its own right. Burrata tastes like it was barely touched by human hands but it's actually surprisingly complicated to make. (And to my dismay, beyond the capacity of the home cook.) Basically, it's a skin of mozzarella, gathered and tied around a heavenly pulp of mozzarella scraps and fresh cream.

Murray's imports burrata from Italy weekly and though it's not as mild as ones I've had in restaurants (it ages a little more during transportation), it's still thrillingly fresh and creamy. It's expensive at $11 for a fist-sized ball, and a bit too much for one person to eat in a single sitting, but I didn't let either of those things stop me.

[Note: On my second visit a week later, I got a burrata that seemed to be less fresh. The cream had absorbed into the cheese in the center much more, and the taste was less milky and more acidic. As freshness is critical with burrata, I now know to ask about the delivery date.]

Stonehome Wine Bar

Occasion: Pre-theatre (A Streetcar Named Desire) dinner with Kristina

Location: Stonehome Wine Bar on Lafayette Ave between Elliot Place and Portland Ave in Brooklyn (stonehomewinebar.com)

Edibles: tagliatelle with mushrooms for both of us (no time for an app, according to the waiter)

Musings: The space is narrow and cosy with perfect date lighting, and just a few blocks from BAM's Harvey Theatre. I feel like I only had a quick how-de-do with this place but I'm excited for my second visit, whenever that may be. The pasta was terrific, the wine was exactly what I asked for, and the French press coffee at the end was just the thing to stave off sleepiness during the show.

I really do think we could have fit two courses in (after all, you can sear a scallop in three minutes), but that's just a quibble.