Flavor Boulevard

Brunch: WestSoy vanilla soymilk
Dinner: Pearl green tea soymilk

When my green tea soymilk got scanned at the cashier, there were two reactions from the cashier girls: “Wow, this sounds awesome! I’ve never heard of it before!” and “I don’t know… it sounds a little weird to me”. Call me a Berkeley-induced hippie if you want (although I’d like to say I’m as far from being a hippie as Japan is from Berkeley), but I side with the first reaction, cuz I like green tea ice cream and I like soymilk. Now I’m addicted to this thing.

Sweet and smooth with a light-hearted, herbal accent. I finally understand why the Brits add milk to tea. In this case, it’s adding tea to milk. The mix rivals my most favorite drink number: mung bean milk.

It’s great alone. It’s an elegant partner to a mini chocolate rugelach or a kuri manju, a sweet chesnut-shaped bun with white bean paste).

The budget:
1 Quart Pearl Organic Green Tea Soymilk carton – $2.85
Package of 4 Kuri Manju – $4.95
Package of 14 Green’s Chocolate Rugelach – $7.99
… all from the Berkeley Bowl…

More green drinks: mung bean milk and pennywort juice

DISCLAIMER: I received no free product or monetary gift in exchange for this review.

Found in a furniture store. Refrigerated. In a tube, a tad bigger than a Colgate container. Cuz I haven’t seen any edible paste in a tube at Safeway or Walmart, I say The Swedes rule in design, again. But does the paste sing, too?

The band ABBA had four member, but the paté has at least four times as many ingredients, as the label says, and I quote: “canola oil, crab meat, cod roe, saithe roe, salt, sugar, tomato purée, dill, aromas (this isn’t exactly an ingredient, but whatev), vinegar, potato flakes, sodium benzoate, potassium sorbate, spices, yeast extract”. I’ll cut the chase and tell you now that the only thing I could taste…

… was the salt.
In hindsight saltine crackers probably contributed in blinding my tongue, but I don’t regret. It’s pleasantly salty, like French fries and chips. It’s the other background stuff that make the scene. The smoothness melts the instant the tongue reaches it, a fishy moment whips through the air, and you sink to the bottom of the ocean watching two crabs clapping claws. If you eat this for the first time, don’t expect anything, the more blank you let yourself be, the less chance you get hit in the face by the taste. But once that first cracker goes down, your hand will pull out another and untwist the cap of the tube faster than you can say paté.

Can anyone not love IKEA? 🙂
And I still can’t get over the tube shape. It inspires arts. Though judging from the two crooked letters I make on the crackers, the route to pâtisserie suddenly seems bleak.

DISCLAIMER: I received no free product or monetary gift in exchange for this review.

These plum-sized apples belong to one of the oldest cultivars first known to the Romans, but I only saw them for the first time at Lucky last weekend. Some have a rosy cheek on one side, some are burgundy all around the upper half, like a little rotund Red Riding Hood with greenish yellow gown.

The cheerfully color-contrasted skin feels waxy smooth as I run them under the faucet. Memories of Thai apples (poodza) rush through my fingers, but Thai apples are whole green and oblong with a pointy bottom, the Ladies here are shaped like mochi dumplings slightly squished by two fingers at both ends. I pick one up close to my mouth, before the lips can get to its skin, the nose already catches a fresh swift of the dimple where its stem sprouts.

It’s crisp, like a pile of crunchy leaf. Its sweetness and tartness are lady-like.

One of my advisors likes to eat the entirety of an apple minus the stem and the seeds. He doesn’t leave a core. Which makes me think he’d love to pop these whole in the mouth, especially since their seeds are just as big as a red globe grape’s seed. I instead dip one into a chocolate pudding cup and pinch off small bites. It’s better than chocolate covered strawberries.

$2 for 10 momentary joys.

I’ve been lying low on the blogging front for the past couple of weeks, because the school front is under serious bombarding. Having classes is one thing; having to teach, applying for stuff, looking to join a research group on top of classes is a whole different level of war. Not that I lose my appetite, but when twenty deadlines are approaching like a flock of Luftwaffe‘s Bf 109, quick filling meals trump elaborate dishes. Loco moco is a winner, but even I know that I can rely solely on gravy, egg, and hamburger patty for so long before a heart attack. Hence the deli section in supermarkets gain appeals.

But if you’re gonna buy cheap store-made food, you gotta do it in style. Apple pies, rotisserie chicken, turkey sandwiches, or those mushy bean-and-pasta salads are so 2009 (I used to buy a rotisserie chicken every week last year :-P). This year we hit up the delis in Koreana Plaza and 99 Ranch Market.

Entree 1 – kimchi big dumpling ($3.99 for 4) from Koreana. Each is as big as my fist, the dough is springy and leathery with a sour hint, the innard is not kimchi but a mixture of glass noodle with some egg/shrimp/tofu-like paste. Overall it’s rather bland.

Entree 2 – kimbab ($3.99 for 2 rolls – 20 pieces) from Koreana. The kim (seaweed) always smells like the sea, but it adds an unparalleled savoriness to rice. Love it. 🙂

Dessert 1 – green tea cheesecake ($1.50/slice) from 99RM. The slice is only three fingers at its widest but solid as a butter stick. It’s really just like eating a wedge of gouda with some distant herbal call.

Dessert 2 – green tea red bean roll from 99RM. Sweet and chewy red bean paste, grassy plain and pillowy green tea dough, with a hair thin layer of milky cream. Petite and adorable. 🙂

Side comment, I was cheap so I was contented with drooling at the sight of the 99RM cakes. Don’t know about tastes, but the 99 Ranch’s bakery got some cake decorating skillz that make all American supermarket bakeries look like child plays.

Koreana Plaza (Oakland)
2370 Telegraph Ave (between 23rd St & 24th St)
Oakland, CA 94612
(510) 986-1234

99 Ranch Market (Richmond)
3288 Pierce St # 99
Richmond, CA 94804
(510) 558-2120

Previously on Down the Aisles: It’s It

Two oatmeal cookies sandwiching a scoop of vanilla ice cream, everything encapsulated by a dark chocolate shell.

Chocolate shell with ice cream isn’t really my thing, because stuff breaks and spills, like you’re eating a hamburger and look down and see a salad on the burger’s wrapper, except now the melting ice cream replaces the lettuce and mayo. Oatmeal cookie is another not-my-thing, as it’s just too crumbly. But somehow this combination works.

The chocolate keeps the oatmeal cookies from turning into oatmeal, and the oatmeal cookies are soft and chewy enough that they don’t push ice cream out in the back (as much) when you take a bite. No wonder It‘s survived since 1928. It predates the Golden Gate Bridge by 9 years.

San Fran’s tradition sold in box of three (why 3?) for $3.69 at Safeway.
Oh, regarding health concerns (because that’s a trendy topic these days), It’s It contains no trans fat or high fructose corn syrup. Yippie!

Previously on Down the Aisles: Bubble chocolate bar

DISCLAIMER: I received no free product or monetary gift in exchange for this review.

Pretty packaging. Attractive name. Big thick bar. Teenie tiny holes that are supposed to be bubbles.

The texture is rather normal. You have to really focus to feel the difference. It also tastes like store chocolate Easter eggs. Unimpressed.

Bubble chocolate – $2.50 a bar at Whole Foods.

Previously on Down the Aisles: Purple potato

DISCLAIMER: I received no free product or monetary gift in exchange for this review.

If you walk into my house you’re not gonna see many purple things. Truth is, I think purple is a picky color, even more so than pink. The wrong purple is tacky, the right purple rarely happens. But somehow all purple foods taste good (except eggplant). Purple cabbage, purple lettuce, beet, taro (mmm, taro ice cream), blueberry, purple spinach. Then I ran into purple potatoes at Lucky.

I bet you can carve your initials and use it as a stamper. At first I thought they are some cross between normal potato and beet, with the beet’s juicy crunch apparent whatever way you slice. Turns out it’s a mutation that causes production of the antioxidant anthocyanin, giving it the ink-stain color. So it’s all potato.

Mudpie the chef sliced them. Stir fry with salt, pepper, garlic powder, tarragon until golden.

Good stuff.

I couldn’t care less about sports, and the World Cup teams I root for aren’t wearing purple. But if you take a peek into my fridge, lotsa purple are there.

Previously on Down the Aisles: Magnolia’s Taro Ice Cream

Uh oh, it looks like ink.

The color is just screaming fake, real taro is faintly purple. My palm stains with indigo dye as I scoop the ice cream out of its cheap plastic tub. Sigh, I take a spoon. Divine. Coconut milk sweeps across the mouth. Nutty and grainy taro filters out all troubled thoughts. I thought taro yogurt with brownie bites at Yogurt Land was unbeatable, but this tops it. I read the ingredient list on the label.

No coconut milk.

Magnolia‘s 1.75-quart taro ice cream: $7.29.

So what would you choose, the real and tasty kind or the artificial and supertasty kind?

Previously on Down the Aisles: Yeast Cookies

Despite the name, banh men are quite girly cookies. Just look at how colorful they are: pink for strawberry, yellow for durian, white for plain coconut, green for pandan leaf. The literal translation “yeast cookie” is also a misnomer because there is no yeast, just tapioca flour, sugar, coconut milk and water.  Somewhere between your teeth and your tongue they would transform from crunchy to melting, all of a sudden that crisp cookie disappears, a sweet lingering gently passes by. And that’s it, you wouldn’t even know that you’ve just had a cookie.

My mother’s girl friends at work love these. The cute bites come in all shapes: worm, button (like the ones made by tt at PlayingWithMyFood, and spiky caterpillar (banh men gai, the ones I got). Ch3rry Blossoms made flowers of them. Extremely light and mild, they are a convenient snack, my fingers just have a go at the bowl next to my laptop without me even noticing. The label on the box says: “Serving size: 150g, Serving per container: 1”. There are about 150 cookies in there, so I can be proud that at least I didn’t follow the label.  A container like this at Lion Food market sells for less than two bucks. What’s better than a cheap sweet treat?

Appetizer: green waffle
The batter is flavored with pandan leaf (lá dứa) extract and coconut milk. Mudpie first discovered them at Century Bakery in Little Saigon, San Jose, and that’s where we’ve been getting them since, in increasing amount. The most recent deal is buy 10 get 1 free, warm and prepackaged in a nice paper box. Then I had green waffle for breakfast for 3 days straight. Each waffle is about $1-1.50, rather costly if you think about how a banh mi costs only 2.50. But it’s delicious, fluffy and sweet.

Main course: Mo’s Bacon bar

You can have bacon with breakfast pancakes, and in BLT (bacon-lettuce-tomato) sandwich for lunch, so might as well stuff it into your chocolate for a late night snack, right? The lady who discovered the magic of bacon-chocolate combo had 6 years of culinary study, and she got it right: chocolate goes with everything, and so does salt. The bar isn’t a slab of bacon coated with chocolate (which is kinda what I hoped for). There are only tiny bits of bacon, even more scarce than in a simple salad. An unhealthy dose of smoked salt gives a boost to the milky sweet taste. This chocolate is not extraordinary, but it might be a good gift for those unadventurous eaters (to prove that “crazy” food can be good). Take a look at the list of Vosges’ exotic chocolate bars. Perhaps I’ll tackle them when I see them at Whole Foods, although they are not that exotic except for the names.

Dessert: hibiscus sorbet

After the wonderful engagement with cardamom-rose ice cream, I became a bee with fantasies about flower flavors. The petals are always delicate, their taste swift and light, a safe choice if you want to avoid extremes. So I grabbed this as soon as I saw it at the store. Well, being a sorbet, it lacked the creamy texture of ice cream, and the taste was a bit rusty. I felt a chemically enhanced sweetness in the throat as it passed down. We can never expect too highly of mass production, but again, I haven’t chewed on a hibiscus flower to know what it really tastes like. The sorbet was worth a chat, and I shall not retract my tongue from other floral attractions.

Next on Down the Aisles: Yeast Cookies