There’s a Mister Donut near our apartment, but I still haven’t walked into it once (*). As much as I like Mos Burger (which is better than McDonalds Japan, which in turns is inarguably better than McDonalds US, of course 😉 ), I prefer the fastfoods that we don’t have.
1. Takoyaki
Fluffy and bouncy. Inside each of these shining orbs is a piece of real octopus. When I die, I want to be buried with takoyaki (which is also the name of my phone, by the way)…
2. Taiyaki
For a while I knew nothing about Japanese food, then within less than one year, I’ve found three places in Berkeley to satisfy my Japanese cravings. To get yakitori, guaranteed quality and to impress friends, I go to Ippuku. For a homey meal at affordable price and convenient distance, I swing by Musashi. For sushi and croquette, Sushi California tops the list.
Its name is generic and its location rather hidden, had Kristen not shared a Berkeleyside review on my Facebook wall some time ago, I would never have noticed Sushi California, much less tried (I tend to stay away from generic names because they often imply generic food). Then Kristen totally forgot about the place. One day I asked her “wanna try Sushi California?”
– What’s that?
– The place you posted on my wall…
– …
The biggest reason that I remembered Sushi California before going there was this line in Anna Mindess’ review: “Chef Arakaki admits that he used to offer other Okinawan classics like goya champura (sautéed bitter melon) but they did not sell well.” I love bitter melon, and even more than that, I love ethnic restaurants that try to offer regional specialties, which often go unnoticed by foreign customers and are eventually taken off the menu. (This is why it’s so hard to find decent traditional food in America, regardless of what cuisine you’re looking for.) So, in some way, I liked Sushi California even before I went. I didn’t hope to see bitter melon there now, but what was there was more than enough to keep me coming back.
Why don’t I like spicy food? For the same reason I don’t like cupcakes, Chicago pizza or anything that has too much of something for me to taste anything else. For the same reason I shunned sushi for almost 10 years: the first time I had sushi I scooped a spoonful of the lovely green paste into my mouth.
Those were 10 years that I could have enjoyed so many hamachi nigiri. It’s sad. But that aside, for the same reason that I dislike spicy food, I like B-Dama so much more than I expected. It’s a tiny tiny Japanese restaurant in Piedmont. Its menu doesn’t boast anything particularly breath-taking to draw me out of the comfort of my home, except that I once saw Kristen post on Facebook a picture of the ankimo (monkfish liver) from B-Dama, and Kristen and I have had more than two failed attempts to eat there together just because the restaurant was either closed or too busy when we popped in. When you can’t have something, you want it more.
Then the day finally arrived. My friend and I tried the ridiculously popular Geta that serves possibly the cheapest sushi and fried chicken bits in the East Bay, were thoroughly impressed by how cheap it was ($35.30 for 7 items), and felt compelled to try its posher sister B-Dama. This time, we made reservation.
The best food always rains on me when I least expect it. Who would have thought that Koto, the only Japanese restaurant in the landlocked Sonora west of Yosemite, could have such fresh sushi and perfectly crisp and seasoned saba shio? I didn’t bring my camera that day, and the next time we went the restaurant was closed. My blogging conscience doesn’t allow me to post without pictures, but Koto made such a pleasant impression that I had to write about it somewhere. So here it is: a guide to Yosemite in the Travel Issue of the Daily Cal.
If I ever run past this town again with enough time for lunch, I’ll run in and order two days worth of food, take pictures, and post them here. (UPDATE on July 15, 2014: I came back yesterday and guess what, it was closed AGAIN!!!!! Because they close all day on Mondays. >__>) It’s hard enough to find a Japanese-own Japanese restaurant in San Francisco, yet there’s one in this little bitty button of a town next to a mountain range.
Address: Koto
70 West Stockton St
Sonora, CA 95370
(209) 532-7900
Happy New Year from Port Arthur, TX. 🙂 Just when I thought El Sombrero Taqueria in Berkeley was interesting for combining Mexican, Indian and Pakistani food under one roof (not in one dish, thank goodness), or I Squared in Oakland for Italian and Iranian, we stumbled onto a Japanese restaurant that also dishes out Chinese, Thai, Indian, and Indonesian.
The lady who greeted us at the door is South Asian, probably Indian, but I can’t tell the difference between the Indian accent and those from the surrounding countries. We were seated as far as possible from the sushi bar and the kitchen, so we couldn’t tell who did the cooking, and our waitress was American. Instead of miso soup to wet our appetite, we were given a stock that tasted similar to hu tieu broth. We were asked if we would prefer normal edamame or spicy edamame. The vegetable that came with the shrimp teriyaki and the grilled steak were mixed baby corn-carrot-bell pepper-snap pea in a stir fry sauce, something that you would find at any Asian diner that gives you the option of 2 sides with a scoop of rice for seven fifty. And the rice that came with the shrimp teriyaki and the steak were Chinese fried rice. Not the most Japanese you can get on this side of the pond.
But it sure did surprise me that even in this town of little more than fifty thousand people, three hours driving eastward from the nearest big Asian community, you can get a taste of ayam kalasan and beef rendang.
It’s been a long time since I last either wrote about food or ate anything that I could write about. The occasional rainfalls during the drought of takeout Chinese are so-so hu tieu and com suon somewhere in the Ranch 99 complex, and homemade soups, lovely but no hot news. Vegetable intake has been limited to shibazuke from Berkeley Bowl, homemade kimchi, and toasted seaweed (seaweed counts, doesn’t it?). Before leaving for her trip, Cheryl fed me her black chicken soup, brown rice, tau yew bak (similar to thit kho but with soy sauce instead of fish sauce) and, like a loving sister, concerned looks and advice on how I should feed myself healthy meals. I agree with her one hundred percent, but all planned menus for the next day fluttered their wings away as I run from class to class and get home only wishing to relax. Cheryl is married. I entertain the idea that I live like a single guy. A single guy that could not have looked more forward to a vegan dinner with some old friends.
After much debate we decided on a simple kampyo roll, a big fluffy summer green roll (that we each stuffed into our mouth in one bite to prove our manliness(*)), a Cha-Ya roll, a tempura stuffed eggplant, a gyoza and vegetable soup, and three desserts.
One very cold Saturday afternoon in Oakland.
Darren: Normally I don’t like fruit flavored stuff, like watermelon candies you know?
Mai: Yeah, like cherry candies…
Darren: But this mango ice cream is really good!
Mai: It is! I like the green tea the most though, it’s so refreshing. What about you, Kristen?
Kristen: I usually don’t like strawberry flavors, but this strawberry one is so good…
Good thing we each had a different favorite.
I’ve finally had it. Le pâté des mers. A sandy lustrous texture and a briny air of the ocean compactified in bright orange lobes.
It’s my first time, at a sushi house in Berkeley in early May, so I’m not gonna pretend like I had the faintest idea about uni. I’m not sure if it’s raw or cooked, but from the taste alone it’s too seashore-breeze-like to be cooked. It could be a paste from a tube for all I know. But now it’s decided. Sea urchin roe? Count me in.
Thanks to noodlepie for writing about it. Really helps if you know what to expect before you try, as always.
I don’t like the Backstreet Boys but when an apt title comes you gotta grab it. Last Sunday we were out celebrating ZuChu‘s birthday with her favorite: sashimi. I was fully expecting a glamorous meal since I’ve come to like smoked salmon and figured all thinly sliced raw fish must have that silky springiness too. Besides, there are those pictures of translucent peony and phoenix made out of fugu sashimi. The Japanese get you by the eye.
This modest stop on Shattuck has the biggest selection of fishy cold cuts in South Berkeley, with 13 individual kinds and 2 combo plates. Word of mouth is it also slices up the freshest, gruesomest sashimi around.
For $18.95 we preempt 16 chunks of maguro (tuna), shiro maguro (albacore, or “white tuna”), sake (salmon), and hamachi (yellowtail, but red meat). The salmon is best (just like La Bedaine’s smoked salmon, but thick). The tunas slide down my throat with some stickiness, as if stuff were crawling up… The hamachi fans apart into a string of cubes, each as bland and bare as the next. Suddenly I understand the presence of wasabi, but I don’t use it.
In the end, I don’t understand the thickness. It’s like eating a blob of gooey rubber, the more you chew the more you realize it’s not cooked, but once you try to swallow it it clings to your tongue. Soy sauce makes it twenty times better.
