About six months ago two of my nearest and dearest (and biggest food and sushi appreciating) friends, Boris and KRB, took me to 15 East in New York. We sat at the bar while Master Chef Masato Shimizu served us piece after piece of delicately cut fish atop warm, fleshy grains of rice. I’d never had anything like it in my life. Not even on my trip to Tokyo did I eat sushi like this (for some reason on my short stint in Tokyo I didn’t have good luck with sushi, maybe it was the jet lag? But became ADDICTED to Okinawan cuisine at this one little spot–if memory serves it’s Ryutan?). In any case, 15 East blew my mind. Just the experience of two temperatures in my mouth; the subtle warmth of the rice with the coolness of the fish, was a total revelation.
The months since have been practically torture; not just due to a desire for the flavor and feel of 15 East, but by the odious experience of eating any other sushi, which now tastes bland at best. The offenses that are committed all around us against fish and rice, a noble creature and sustaining staple, are just despicable.
Two months ago, I discovered the existence of Yume Sushi on Alameda through intense combing of yelp.com. Something in my gut told me there had to be better sushi in the Bay Area than anything I’d tried in my searching over the past 3+ years–and Yume could be it. Continue reading
I just found this on the NY Times. There are probably few of you with your hands free enough to read it, but I do. I’m actually living vicariously through it. Saddleshoos has something of a talent in the kitchen, and a love of the process of preparing a meal. Sadly, both of the two Thanksgiving dinners Saddleshoos is attending this year (at 2PM PST and 5PM PST respectively) will be catered rather than cooked by people I know and love with participation (for better or worse) of various blood and non-blood relatives.
Here is a funny excerpt from the blog featuring a Bay Area celeb:
Waters in the Weeds | 1:18 p.m. OK, so just so no one feels alone, Miss Alice Waters herself just called. Thanksgiving at her house is in the weeds a bit, too. She was looking for one of my guests, the chef Scott Peacock, who has yet to arrive. (And really, it’s not like my daily life is all fancy and chef-y. It’s just that I have a job that involves talking to these people. And since we are all interested in food, we tend to find each other on food holidays.)
Anyway, she had a cornbread crisis of some kind and wanted to talk with Scott, who is up in Central Park reading a poem at a pilgrim monument or something. He should be here soon.
Alice also reports that there was a granita incident involving her daughter, and that she forgot she had put the stuffing on an antique 1920s tray and then accidentally put it in a warm oven to dry.
She now has a ruined tray and a stuffing emergency.
So how is your Thanksgiving cooking going so far? Send in all near misses and disasters.
Oh, sugar. I forgot to put the turkeys in the oven. Gotta go.
Pretty good right? I’m off to a liquid lunch if you know what I mean…