Don't really know how to explain this one.
Swallowing a magic grow capsule
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Friday, December 02, 2005
Turkey Day Pictures
Out of extreme laziness, I haven't posted any Thanksgiving related stuff yet. I had to mention, however, a commercial for "Bob's Discount Furniture," involving two computer animated turkeys that had Bob and his wife's heads superimposed on them. They sang a song where the only words were "gobble gobble gobble gobble" and some little snippets about the furniture they were selling, e.g. "gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble There's a Bar that Hides AWAAAY!" Classic.
On to the pictures:
The night before Thaksgiving I made the desserts, starting with Madeleienes. I tested out new silicon madeleine molds versus my traditional metal one. The silicon mold smelled terrible as it was baking, overbrowned the edges of the shell and didn't brown the body of the shell at all. There was also no hump on the back of the madeleine, which is just (picture a french dude saying this...) OUTREEEGEOUS! So, silicon madeleine molds are REJECTED. Somewhere, a curmudgeony old French luddite is saying "Roh ho ho ho hoooo." New for 2005 to the madeleines was chocolate. Using Trader Joe's Belgian Pound plus 70% dark, melted over a makeshift double boiler and tempered (by stirring in unmelted pieces off the heat), I dipped or decorated about half of the madeleines I had made. Tempering the chocolate ensures the chocolate adheres, makes for a nice smooth look, and ensures the chocolate doesn't crumble when bitten into.
While preparing the madeleines, I decided that they wouldn't be enough as a dessert, so I decided to make something else. At first I thought "Tiramisu," which I make for any occasion, and also "pumpkin pie," in honor of Thanksgiving. Combining the two ideas gave me the idea for a mascarpone pumpkin cheesecake. I had no idea how I was going to make a cheesecake or what you have to do to make cheesecake, but I consulted some basic recipes online and went from there. I made the cheesecake's crust out of Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Snaps and melted butter. The filling was half mascarpone, half regular cream cheese (due to mascarpone's different texture and high cost), eggs, brown sugar, pumpkin, flour, heavy cream, and some spices. I garnished it with heavy cream whipped up with a bit of superfine sugar and brandy.
The cheesecake was rather light, wasn't too sweet, and had a slightly stronger flavor of cheese than a regular cheesecake.
Here are a few pictures of what my sister made (I did most of the grunt work), because she's even lazier about posting pictures than I am.
The turkey, brined overnight and (almost) completely cooked. The beautiful skin was achieved by not being afraid to massage and coat the entire turkey in a layer of butter.
A beet and fennel salad with citrus vinaigrette a la Thomas Keller. Finished with gorgonzola and orange zest. I call this one "mastercard salad."
Mixed vegetables in some sort of Asian-y dressing in a kabocha squash bowl. Eat the bowl...go on I dare ya.
The wine, a 1987 Chateau Duhart-Milon Rothschild Pauillac. It's no Charles Shaw, but it was still good.
This table is much too small to hold all of the food we made, so it was served up buffet style in the kitchen.
On to the pictures:
The night before Thaksgiving I made the desserts, starting with Madeleienes. I tested out new silicon madeleine molds versus my traditional metal one. The silicon mold smelled terrible as it was baking, overbrowned the edges of the shell and didn't brown the body of the shell at all. There was also no hump on the back of the madeleine, which is just (picture a french dude saying this...) OUTREEEGEOUS! So, silicon madeleine molds are REJECTED. Somewhere, a curmudgeony old French luddite is saying "Roh ho ho ho hoooo." New for 2005 to the madeleines was chocolate. Using Trader Joe's Belgian Pound plus 70% dark, melted over a makeshift double boiler and tempered (by stirring in unmelted pieces off the heat), I dipped or decorated about half of the madeleines I had made. Tempering the chocolate ensures the chocolate adheres, makes for a nice smooth look, and ensures the chocolate doesn't crumble when bitten into.
While preparing the madeleines, I decided that they wouldn't be enough as a dessert, so I decided to make something else. At first I thought "Tiramisu," which I make for any occasion, and also "pumpkin pie," in honor of Thanksgiving. Combining the two ideas gave me the idea for a mascarpone pumpkin cheesecake. I had no idea how I was going to make a cheesecake or what you have to do to make cheesecake, but I consulted some basic recipes online and went from there. I made the cheesecake's crust out of Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Snaps and melted butter. The filling was half mascarpone, half regular cream cheese (due to mascarpone's different texture and high cost), eggs, brown sugar, pumpkin, flour, heavy cream, and some spices. I garnished it with heavy cream whipped up with a bit of superfine sugar and brandy.
The cheesecake was rather light, wasn't too sweet, and had a slightly stronger flavor of cheese than a regular cheesecake.
Here are a few pictures of what my sister made (I did most of the grunt work), because she's even lazier about posting pictures than I am.
The turkey, brined overnight and (almost) completely cooked. The beautiful skin was achieved by not being afraid to massage and coat the entire turkey in a layer of butter.
A beet and fennel salad with citrus vinaigrette a la Thomas Keller. Finished with gorgonzola and orange zest. I call this one "mastercard salad."
Mixed vegetables in some sort of Asian-y dressing in a kabocha squash bowl. Eat the bowl...go on I dare ya.
The wine, a 1987 Chateau Duhart-Milon Rothschild Pauillac. It's no Charles Shaw, but it was still good.
This table is much too small to hold all of the food we made, so it was served up buffet style in the kitchen.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Kalbi
My parents brought me 30 pieces of kalbi over family weekend. All I had to do was microwave it, cook up some rice, wash some lettuce, buy some chili paste, and slice up some green onions and a feast ensued. Check out Owen's (upper left of the picture) chopstick technique. If it doesn't impress you, what if I told you that he's white? Oh yeah...now you're impressed.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Happy Halloween Everybody!
Yup...that's about all there is to that post. Eat a caramel apple. Pumpkin seeds too.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Distributing smallpox infested blankets to natives...followed by tea
Amherst College and the town of Amherst is named after Lord Jeffrey Amherst, commander of the British forces during the French and Indian wars, pioneer of germ warfare, and securer of Canada for England. Although the college has long since put away the china depicting mounted Englishmen chasing Natives, and has substituted smallpox infested blankets with cod nuggets in Valentine to make people sick, the British tradition of tea time lives on right here in the first floor suite of Jenkins dormitory. Thanks to my suitemate Katie spending her summer in London, and the fact that all of us are terrible snobs (and face it...if you're reading this shit, so are you) we have a fine assortment of teas to enjoy each day. Today was Twining's reserve afternoon tea, which is described as a traditional tasting tea ("traditional" of course joining "umami" as one of the lesser known taste receptors in the tongue). I decided to make a special plate of snacks today, for n
o other reason than the fact that I went to Trader Joe's yesterday.
Clockwise from the "top" of the plate: Pumpernickel cocktail square with manchego cheese and pumpkin butter, Grilled brie finger sandiwch, Rice cracker with roasted red pepper tapenade, almond biscotti, macadamia lacey.
Notice the extra fancy, scallop shell design plate, made of what the French call papier.
o other reason than the fact that I went to Trader Joe's yesterday.Clockwise from the "top" of the plate: Pumpernickel cocktail square with manchego cheese and pumpkin butter, Grilled brie finger sandiwch, Rice cracker with roasted red pepper tapenade, almond biscotti, macadamia lacey.
Notice the extra fancy, scallop shell design plate, made of what the French call papier.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Gyoza and Guinness Shakes
I went to Trader Joe's while I was extremely hungry today. It's never a good idea to go grocery shopping while you're hungry, and this goes triple for Trader Joe's. I came away with pita chips, cookies, chocolate toffee almonds, pumpernickel cocktail squares (fancy name for little square pieces of bread), manchego cheese, and pumpkin butter (like apple...but pumpkin...you get the idea). The last three things, when put together, make an excellent tea-time snack. I also decided to buy a midnight snack. Seeing as the college night lasts until about 4 am, and I don't eat breakfast, a midnight meal is the equivalent of a light dinner. I decided on Trader Joe's chicken gyoza. The problem I've
always had with their gyoza is that you have to brown them first in oil, then add water to the pan to steam them. This obliterates any crispiness achieved during the oil frying, and the gyoza turn into a mushy, muddled mess where it's impossible to distinguish the gyoza skin from the filling. I heard that Jacques Pepin recommends just throwing oil and water together in the pan and cooking them that way, but that didn't really work for me. It did, however, achieve a wonderful grease/water spray pattern all over the cooking surface. I decided to try an alternate method today. Using an electric (and illegal-in-the-dorm) skillet, I first browned two sides of the gyoza. After two sides had been browned, I moved them to one side of the skillet and flipped them onto the other side. I immediately placed a folded up wet paper towel across the skillet. Once the paper towel is in place, you can pour the water on the other side of the towel and cover up the skillet. The towel acts as a barrier and releases steam while the gyoza are on the protected side and the uncooked side of the gyoza fries up without being drowned in
water. All three sides stay brown and crispy and the inside cooked through and moist. Deep fried goodness with only about a tablespoon of oil. Of course, you might not like your gyoza crispy, but that would make you a terrible person.
The perfect accompaniment to any food is the Guinness Milkshake. Take a bottle of Guinness Draught and blend up with a very generous amount of vanilla ice cream. It's a foolproof recipe, so I can't really imagine how anyone could fuck it up, but it's quite possible my sister will find a way. Before you spit on your miniMac in indignation my dear, I have two words for you: Boca Negra.
always had with their gyoza is that you have to brown them first in oil, then add water to the pan to steam them. This obliterates any crispiness achieved during the oil frying, and the gyoza turn into a mushy, muddled mess where it's impossible to distinguish the gyoza skin from the filling. I heard that Jacques Pepin recommends just throwing oil and water together in the pan and cooking them that way, but that didn't really work for me. It did, however, achieve a wonderful grease/water spray pattern all over the cooking surface. I decided to try an alternate method today. Using an electric (and illegal-in-the-dorm) skillet, I first browned two sides of the gyoza. After two sides had been browned, I moved them to one side of the skillet and flipped them onto the other side. I immediately placed a folded up wet paper towel across the skillet. Once the paper towel is in place, you can pour the water on the other side of the towel and cover up the skillet. The towel acts as a barrier and releases steam while the gyoza are on the protected side and the uncooked side of the gyoza fries up without being drowned in
water. All three sides stay brown and crispy and the inside cooked through and moist. Deep fried goodness with only about a tablespoon of oil. Of course, you might not like your gyoza crispy, but that would make you a terrible person.The perfect accompaniment to any food is the Guinness Milkshake. Take a bottle of Guinness Draught and blend up with a very generous amount of vanilla ice cream. It's a foolproof recipe, so I can't really imagine how anyone could fuck it up, but it's quite possible my sister will find a way. Before you spit on your miniMac in indignation my dear, I have two words for you: Boca Negra.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Eat it Sis!
My darling sister has posted on her blog something entitled "Snack Foods That Will Be the Death of Me #1." Haha. I pity your meager attempt to kill yourself with circus animals, but you have a long way to go. Tonight in Valentine (my dining hall), Chicken Kiev was on the menu. In order to enjoy all the unhealthiness, without that filling breaded chicken part, I did the brilliantly unthinkable. I turned my Chicken Kiev into a juice box.
Go ahead Jungjoo, I dare you to find a better way to get a shot of garlicky saturated fat goodness.
Oh wait, this wasn't a contest?
Nothing food-related can gross me out unless it had to do with my case of food poisoning in Korea. Absolutely nothing. This came close. To see what happened when I accidentally got a bit of the butter in my mouth, click here.
Go ahead Jungjoo, I dare you to find a better way to get a shot of garlicky saturated fat goodness.Oh wait, this wasn't a contest?
Nothing food-related can gross me out unless it had to do with my case of food poisoning in Korea. Absolutely nothing. This came close. To see what happened when I accidentally got a bit of the butter in my mouth, click here.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Orchestra Grilling
Yes, it's finally happened. Following in celebrity chef Dave Lieberman's footsteps, I too have been named executive chef of something that needs absolutely no culinary direction whatsoever. Just as Lieberman is executive chef of Delta's Song Airlines, I have been named Executive Chef (well...social coordinator actually...but they're often the same thing) of the Amherst College Orchestra. After being granted the title of ACO's executive chef, I was determined to create more opportunities to use my skills (or lack thereof) than my celebrity counterpart.
What exactly does the executive chef of a budget airline do anyway? "For this snack box, I decided to pair yogurt with fruit. I really like the way the slightly sour creaminess of the yogurt contrasts with the tart sweetness of the citrus fruits. I've also included a Danish, the crispy flakiness of which provides a nice textural complement to the smooth yogurt."
Or...
"For this flight, I decided to go with the Fiesta Snack mix. The fiesta snack mix adds more of an international flair than plain pretzels. This will be paired with a lovely 2005 Diet Pepsi."
In any case, I created my first opportunity with the orchestra barbecue. Not content to serve the standard grilled fare of burgers and dogs, I ambitiously (read foolishly) decided to set up a grilled pizza line. People could top their own pizzas and bring 'em to me to finish on the grill. The toppings included ricotta, grated mozarella, fresh mozarella, parmesan, sausage, pepperoni, roasted peppers, fresh basil, tomato, garlic, grilled red onion, and mushrooms. My trusty team and I bought pre-made pizza dough at Big Y. The dough re-rose overnight in the fridge, causing it to bust open the door to my mini college fridge. In the morning, after smacking it down again, it was almost impossible to work with, but somehow we managed to make 50 rounds (sorta) of pizza dough. They were then given an intial grilling:
This grilled side was then topped with sauce and whatever toppings each person wanted. This was followed by a second grilling, raw side down, in order to melt the cheese and finish the crust. If you feel like doing this at home (because it's really pretty easy), I recommend using a mixture of brown butter and honey to brush the dough with before grilling, rather than olive oil. it gives the crust a nicer color and a bit of sweetness, which is good with that charry carcinogenic charcoal grilled flavor. Mmm...cancerous.
With the leftover dough, we made a huge pizza topped with every topping that was available.
During cooking, one of the sausages sprung a hole in the casing, causing a fountain of rendered sausage fat to stream out for a good 45 seconds, feeding a glorious flare up. That had nothing to do with anything, except that the sausage was the first toping to run out, and so we didn't have any to put on our giant pizza.
The whole thing is pretty foolproof. Any combination of toppings works well as long as they're cooked beforehand. My favorite combination to make at home is figs, prosciutto, fresh basil, and fresh mozarella. Just as it's coming off of the grill give it a splash of balsamic vinegar.
What exactly does the executive chef of a budget airline do anyway? "For this snack box, I decided to pair yogurt with fruit. I really like the way the slightly sour creaminess of the yogurt contrasts with the tart sweetness of the citrus fruits. I've also included a Danish, the crispy flakiness of which provides a nice textural complement to the smooth yogurt."
Or...
"For this flight, I decided to go with the Fiesta Snack mix. The fiesta snack mix adds more of an international flair than plain pretzels. This will be paired with a lovely 2005 Diet Pepsi."
In any case, I created my first opportunity with the orchestra barbecue. Not content to serve the standard grilled fare of burgers and dogs, I ambitiously (read foolishly) decided to set up a grilled pizza line. People could top their own pizzas and bring 'em to me to finish on the grill. The toppings included ricotta, grated mozarella, fresh mozarella, parmesan, sausage, pepperoni, roasted peppers, fresh basil, tomato, garlic, grilled red onion, and mushrooms. My trusty team and I bought pre-made pizza dough at Big Y. The dough re-rose overnight in the fridge, causing it to bust open the door to my mini college fridge. In the morning, after smacking it down again, it was almost impossible to work with, but somehow we managed to make 50 rounds (sorta) of pizza dough. They were then given an intial grilling:
This grilled side was then topped with sauce and whatever toppings each person wanted. This was followed by a second grilling, raw side down, in order to melt the cheese and finish the crust. If you feel like doing this at home (because it's really pretty easy), I recommend using a mixture of brown butter and honey to brush the dough with before grilling, rather than olive oil. it gives the crust a nicer color and a bit of sweetness, which is good with that charry carcinogenic charcoal grilled flavor. Mmm...cancerous.
With the leftover dough, we made a huge pizza topped with every topping that was available.
During cooking, one of the sausages sprung a hole in the casing, causing a fountain of rendered sausage fat to stream out for a good 45 seconds, feeding a glorious flare up. That had nothing to do with anything, except that the sausage was the first toping to run out, and so we didn't have any to put on our giant pizza.
The whole thing is pretty foolproof. Any combination of toppings works well as long as they're cooked beforehand. My favorite combination to make at home is figs, prosciutto, fresh basil, and fresh mozarella. Just as it's coming off of the grill give it a splash of balsamic vinegar.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Why I like Anthony Bourdain's New Show
Strippers.
Seriously...just watch the episode where he tours New Jersey. His "Sopranos" themed bus tour takes him to the Bada Bing club, where he decides to prematurely end his tour ride. He then calls his mother to wish her happy birthday from the strip club, claiming he's at the library. In order to keep things food related, he orders a hoagie. Hoagies at this place apparently come with a side of stripper, as one of them sits down next to him to keep him company and is genuinely interested in what he has to say.
No exciting food stuff going on lately, thanks to classes starting soon. In honor of my last day of freedom, I grilled up some Bratwursts and portabella mushrooms with hummus and feta for the vegetarians. The important food development though, involves the building of my suite's bar.
I'll cook something when I get the time. Pictures will be posted.
Seriously...just watch the episode where he tours New Jersey. His "Sopranos" themed bus tour takes him to the Bada Bing club, where he decides to prematurely end his tour ride. He then calls his mother to wish her happy birthday from the strip club, claiming he's at the library. In order to keep things food related, he orders a hoagie. Hoagies at this place apparently come with a side of stripper, as one of them sits down next to him to keep him company and is genuinely interested in what he has to say.
No exciting food stuff going on lately, thanks to classes starting soon. In honor of my last day of freedom, I grilled up some Bratwursts and portabella mushrooms with hummus and feta for the vegetarians. The important food development though, involves the building of my suite's bar.
I'll cook something when I get the time. Pictures will be posted.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
5 Reasons why Boston is a Shithole if You're a Food Lover...
1. The Bostonian accent is probably the most ignorant sounding accent in the world, barely edging out the Australian.
2. Drunk Bostonians ARE the most ignorant people in the world, and there's no shortage of them at all hours of the day.
3. The vendors at the Farmer's Market are incredibly racist, and will start yelling at you if you even look at their produce in the wrong way...let alone try to get some sense of it's freshness/quality. You will then experience 1 and 2, above.
4. A restaurant that you actually have to DRIVE to get to? Good luck getting there...or anywhere ever again.
5. The only good place for breakfast in Boston is Dunkin' Donuts. That isn't a compliment to Dunkin' Donuts.
It ain't all bad I suppose. The Quincy market is a lot of fun, and the lobster at Todd English's Kingfish Hall was well worth the wait. It's served lobster boil style, with steamers, potatoes, kielbasa, corn on the cob, and a slice of blueberry pound cake which is surprisingly tasty after soaking up all the butter that's been sloshing around on the plate. Still, the overall experience in the city leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
2. Drunk Bostonians ARE the most ignorant people in the world, and there's no shortage of them at all hours of the day.
3. The vendors at the Farmer's Market are incredibly racist, and will start yelling at you if you even look at their produce in the wrong way...let alone try to get some sense of it's freshness/quality. You will then experience 1 and 2, above.
4. A restaurant that you actually have to DRIVE to get to? Good luck getting there...or anywhere ever again.
5. The only good place for breakfast in Boston is Dunkin' Donuts. That isn't a compliment to Dunkin' Donuts.
It ain't all bad I suppose. The Quincy market is a lot of fun, and the lobster at Todd English's Kingfish Hall was well worth the wait. It's served lobster boil style, with steamers, potatoes, kielbasa, corn on the cob, and a slice of blueberry pound cake which is surprisingly tasty after soaking up all the butter that's been sloshing around on the plate. Still, the overall experience in the city leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
Monday, August 22, 2005
The MCAT: Perfect Opportunity to Explain my Blog's Title
Some people wonder why my blog's title is "I like food, I don't like you." They say things like, "But Chris, that's so mean! I came to your blog expecting to read that special brand of pseudo-intellectual bullshit that's wiped fresh onto the toilet tissue that is the food blog. You know, the kind of blog that's created when people delude themselves into thinking they're even REMOTELY qualified to be a food critic? I'm also a huge fan of Rachael Ray!! Heehee! I ALWAYS say E.V.O.O. ever since I started watching her show!"
Well boo freakin' hoo whiny little bitches, and I FUCKING HATE RACHAEL RAY. Her's is the most vomit-inducing show on television, beating out even Nip/Tuck and My Super Sweet 16. She spends the entire show giggling and pretending to be all cute. "I prewashed my vegetables when I brought them home from the store because I'm SOO cute! TEehee! We do this all the time back in Buffalo where I'm from. Isn't that so CUTE of me?! I'm gonna add a little dash of E.V.O.O. here! Isn't my abbreviation super cute?!" For fuck's sake, Buffalo is a wasteland, you're not cute, and would IT KILL YOU TO TAKE THE 20 EXTRA MILLISECONDS TO SAY EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL? Maybe she's worried that "30.000002 minute meals" wouldn't be as catchy. But I digress...
The MCAT.
I took it at the Holiday Inn Walnut Creek, which was probably the nicest possible place to take it. There were big tables, lots of space, only a few people so things went quickly, and the proctors let us have food and drinks in the room. I started at 8:00 and got out of there by 4:00. Had I taken it at U.C. Berkeley, I would've been there until 6:00. Anyway, the MCAT made me realize how much people just suck at life in general. Maybe it's just pre-meds, whom I hate with a passion. In the world of professional whining, pre-med students are the fucking team captains. After the first section of the test, several people complained that the time had been cut short by 30 seconds. Others were complaining that the room was too warm but the air conditioners were too loud. After the test, several girls were complaining about being too distracted by the proctors walking around (which they're supposed to do). "Omigod...she was like...walking back and forth and that like...totally broke my concentration, and that's like, totally the last thing I needed when I'm trying to like, focus every one of my three brain cells on this test." (That's actually what the girl said...word for word...except for the word "three" which I added in myself. Artistic license and so forth). Aren't these exactly the kind of people you'd want as doctors? "This operating room is too hot, I can't fucking concentrate with all those nurses walking around. This fucking patient bled faster than he was supposed to, I didn't have enough time to finish operating!" The 30 extra seconds wouldn't have helped solve the fact that you're dumb and you have the attention span of a flea. I had a fluorescent light constantly flickering over my head, and I didn't complain. If I had started to have a seizure I would've just gotten up, walked out onto the Holiday Inn's pool deck and retched into the hot tub. Then I would've sit back down and kept bubbling in like crazy...like a man dammit. (Had I also started to convulse, I'm confident that I would've convulsed in a manly fashion).
There was this tool in the Princeton Review program who wasn't in my class, but I met in a special Physics review session. He was in the testing center. When we got out of the test he instantly started complaining to everybody... "BRO! I totally fucked that shit up! I don't think I even broke a 30 BRO!" Then he got on the phone...
"No...NO....I FUCKED IT UP! IT FUCKING DIDN'T GO WELL! I DON'T FUCKING WANNA TALK ABOUT IT OKAY? JUST PICK ME UP MOM!"
So the MCAT was full of shitty people, as is life in general, so that's where that part of the title comes from...now for the good part.
In celebration of the MCAT being over my family went out to a nice dinner. We chose Pearl Oyster Bar on College Ave. in the Rockridge Area (Oakland). My sister had heard about it somehow (though I'm not surprised...I don't think she actually works...I think she just surfs the internet all day and looks for different restaurants). I later read about it in a magazine and saw a picture of the Tartare trio that they served there. They serve a variety of small plates (almost all involving seafood), and the prices aren't outrageous. We started with a dozen oysters, 2 each of 6 different varieties. I had the Kumamoto, which was quite sweet, and the Hama Hama, which had a pretty neutral flavor but had an incredibly creamy texture. The oysters were nicely presented on Rock Salt and seaweed, and came with Mignonette sauce as well as horseradish and cocktail sauce by request. There was no grit or bits of shell in the oysters, and they separated nicely (I think you should be able to slurp an oyster right off its shell...forks be damned). Next came the crab cakes. Two little crab cakes served with cucumber and two sauces on the sides of the plate. They were easy to share, and damn good. The spicy smokey fries with aioli had a nice barbecue flavor, but the aioli could've been a little more exciting. The tartare trio I had been looking forward to was well worth it. Small cubes of tuna, salmon, and halibut were dressed with a little bit of parsley, some really fancy "estate" olive oils, and each had a different salt from a different country. I can't remember exactly which fish had which super exotic salt, but the salt was nice and coarse. This made it so it didn't uniformly salt the fish, but instead led to some bites having a bit of a salty crunch to contrast the soft fish. All three varities of fish were excellent. Next was a calamari made with local squid. The calamari was good, but the standout part of the dish was the slaw that it was served with. Made with Napa cabbage, Thai basil, fresh mint, cilantro, pea sprouts, and lightly dressed with fish sauce and lime juice, it was the perfect accompaniment to the calamari. It was also served with Sriracha sauce, a sauce that I would be content to put on absolutely anything.
The surprise of the night was the Bruschetta, topped with caramelized red onions, grilled peaches, sonoma goat cheese, and hazelnuts. The grilled peach had a creamy texture that matched the goat cheese perfectly.
The one thing Pearl lacks is a full bar. After the MCAT I could've used a Martini or two, but Pearl only offers Sake cocktails, wine, and beer. I was happy with my Anchor Steam (brewed in SF! And with a name that just sounds like it should be had with seafood), and the wine list is pretty good.
Pearl
5634 College Ave.
Oakland, CA 94618
Well boo freakin' hoo whiny little bitches, and I FUCKING HATE RACHAEL RAY. Her's is the most vomit-inducing show on television, beating out even Nip/Tuck and My Super Sweet 16. She spends the entire show giggling and pretending to be all cute. "I prewashed my vegetables when I brought them home from the store because I'm SOO cute! TEehee! We do this all the time back in Buffalo where I'm from. Isn't that so CUTE of me?! I'm gonna add a little dash of E.V.O.O. here! Isn't my abbreviation super cute?!" For fuck's sake, Buffalo is a wasteland, you're not cute, and would IT KILL YOU TO TAKE THE 20 EXTRA MILLISECONDS TO SAY EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL? Maybe she's worried that "30.000002 minute meals" wouldn't be as catchy. But I digress...
The MCAT.
I took it at the Holiday Inn Walnut Creek, which was probably the nicest possible place to take it. There were big tables, lots of space, only a few people so things went quickly, and the proctors let us have food and drinks in the room. I started at 8:00 and got out of there by 4:00. Had I taken it at U.C. Berkeley, I would've been there until 6:00. Anyway, the MCAT made me realize how much people just suck at life in general. Maybe it's just pre-meds, whom I hate with a passion. In the world of professional whining, pre-med students are the fucking team captains. After the first section of the test, several people complained that the time had been cut short by 30 seconds. Others were complaining that the room was too warm but the air conditioners were too loud. After the test, several girls were complaining about being too distracted by the proctors walking around (which they're supposed to do). "Omigod...she was like...walking back and forth and that like...totally broke my concentration, and that's like, totally the last thing I needed when I'm trying to like, focus every one of my three brain cells on this test." (That's actually what the girl said...word for word...except for the word "three" which I added in myself. Artistic license and so forth). Aren't these exactly the kind of people you'd want as doctors? "This operating room is too hot, I can't fucking concentrate with all those nurses walking around. This fucking patient bled faster than he was supposed to, I didn't have enough time to finish operating!" The 30 extra seconds wouldn't have helped solve the fact that you're dumb and you have the attention span of a flea. I had a fluorescent light constantly flickering over my head, and I didn't complain. If I had started to have a seizure I would've just gotten up, walked out onto the Holiday Inn's pool deck and retched into the hot tub. Then I would've sit back down and kept bubbling in like crazy...like a man dammit. (Had I also started to convulse, I'm confident that I would've convulsed in a manly fashion).
There was this tool in the Princeton Review program who wasn't in my class, but I met in a special Physics review session. He was in the testing center. When we got out of the test he instantly started complaining to everybody... "BRO! I totally fucked that shit up! I don't think I even broke a 30 BRO!" Then he got on the phone...
"No...NO....I FUCKED IT UP! IT FUCKING DIDN'T GO WELL! I DON'T FUCKING WANNA TALK ABOUT IT OKAY? JUST PICK ME UP MOM!"
So the MCAT was full of shitty people, as is life in general, so that's where that part of the title comes from...now for the good part.
In celebration of the MCAT being over my family went out to a nice dinner. We chose Pearl Oyster Bar on College Ave. in the Rockridge Area (Oakland). My sister had heard about it somehow (though I'm not surprised...I don't think she actually works...I think she just surfs the internet all day and looks for different restaurants). I later read about it in a magazine and saw a picture of the Tartare trio that they served there. They serve a variety of small plates (almost all involving seafood), and the prices aren't outrageous. We started with a dozen oysters, 2 each of 6 different varieties. I had the Kumamoto, which was quite sweet, and the Hama Hama, which had a pretty neutral flavor but had an incredibly creamy texture. The oysters were nicely presented on Rock Salt and seaweed, and came with Mignonette sauce as well as horseradish and cocktail sauce by request. There was no grit or bits of shell in the oysters, and they separated nicely (I think you should be able to slurp an oyster right off its shell...forks be damned). Next came the crab cakes. Two little crab cakes served with cucumber and two sauces on the sides of the plate. They were easy to share, and damn good. The spicy smokey fries with aioli had a nice barbecue flavor, but the aioli could've been a little more exciting. The tartare trio I had been looking forward to was well worth it. Small cubes of tuna, salmon, and halibut were dressed with a little bit of parsley, some really fancy "estate" olive oils, and each had a different salt from a different country. I can't remember exactly which fish had which super exotic salt, but the salt was nice and coarse. This made it so it didn't uniformly salt the fish, but instead led to some bites having a bit of a salty crunch to contrast the soft fish. All three varities of fish were excellent. Next was a calamari made with local squid. The calamari was good, but the standout part of the dish was the slaw that it was served with. Made with Napa cabbage, Thai basil, fresh mint, cilantro, pea sprouts, and lightly dressed with fish sauce and lime juice, it was the perfect accompaniment to the calamari. It was also served with Sriracha sauce, a sauce that I would be content to put on absolutely anything.
The surprise of the night was the Bruschetta, topped with caramelized red onions, grilled peaches, sonoma goat cheese, and hazelnuts. The grilled peach had a creamy texture that matched the goat cheese perfectly.
The one thing Pearl lacks is a full bar. After the MCAT I could've used a Martini or two, but Pearl only offers Sake cocktails, wine, and beer. I was happy with my Anchor Steam (brewed in SF! And with a name that just sounds like it should be had with seafood), and the wine list is pretty good.
Pearl
5634 College Ave.
Oakland, CA 94618
Thursday, August 18, 2005
If you want something done right...
The utter lack of General Tso's chicken on the West coast has forced me to take drastic measures. I sniffed around the house, trying to remember what gives General Tso's that crack-laced quality and addictive flavor, and threw some things together in an educated guess. I consulted recipes online, but they all varied so wildly that I just ditched 'em, deciding to forge my own path. The one thing they had in common was a cornstarch batter for the chicken. I mixed coriander, white pepper, egg white, soy sauce, and corn starch together to form a batter that resembled ooblek (if you've never made ooblek I highly encourage it...just throw corn starch and water together and have fun). I had trouble with my first batch of chicken pieces sticking together, decreasing the crispy golden brown surface area. To fix the problem I threw some oil into the batter, and vigilantly broke them up while frying (which was pretty dangerous...I gotta figure out a better way). General Tso's is usually made with dark meat, which is why it's so tender, but I didn't have any chicken thighs lying around, so I used breast pieces instead, not as good, but they worked. They fried up pretty quickly, and on their own they make some pretty damn good chicken nuggets. You could easily season the batter more if you were gonna eat these on their own. I'd also recommend battering hunks of cheese with this batter and frying them up, giving you something close to a cheese curd (Midwesterners will know what I'm talking about).
I wasn't about to stop though, determined to be eating General Tso's before the day ended (or High Fidelity came on Comedy Central), I threw together a sauce. I mixed equal parts dry sherry and vinegar (I used white, but prety much anything that isn't sweet will do) with soy sauce, sugar, corn starch, garlic, ginger, chili paste, hoisin sauce, and chicken broth. I couldn't tell you measurements...the liquid pretty much filled up a soup bowl. I took some of the frying oil and sauteed scallions and dried hot chilis before dumping the sauce in. I reduced it quite a bit, letting the sugar and corn starch do their thing, before dumping in the chicken pieces and giving it a toss. Here's the final result:
It tasted pretty damn close, certainly far better than anything I've tried in California Restaurants. It could've been a little more vinegary and a bit more spicy. Also I couldn't find any broccoli in the house.
I have tasted the future...
I popped in to the Japanese supermarket for Hot Garlic Shrimp Chips the other day, and discovered the Calorie Mate. Labelled as "Balanced Food," the Calorie Mate Block is described as the nutritionally balanced source of easy energy for people on the go. Surely this is the future of food. Japan has brought us the robotic dog (if your real dog sucks then just get a machine instead), the PlayStation 2 (if your wife/girlfriend sucks then just get a machine instead), and the pill that makes your bowel movements odorless so as to not offend the toilet that is quite frankly smarter than most of my classmates at Amherst, seeing as how it possesses the intelligence required to flush. Finally, an advancement in food technology on par with the advancements in the eventual receptacles of that food. The Calorie Mate is so futuristic, so incredibly ahead of its time, that Otsuka Pharmaceutical Co. Ltd. has not felt the need to update the ingredients in the past 22 years that it's been available on the market. It even contains margarine which, Scientologists have informed me, will completely replace butter within the next ten years. The other ingredients include wheat flour, soy protein, wheat protein, cocoa powder, and almond...all much less offensive than Calorie Mate's futuristic foodstuff cousin, Soylent Green. So how does the future taste? Like nothing, nothing at all. In the future we won't have time for such petty distractions as "flavor" while we're piloting our flying Hondas and cleaning up after our robotic dogs. As for it's nutritional benefits, I really couldn't tell you. I didn't have any of Otsuka Pharmaceutical's other futuristic product, Pocari Sweat, to wash it down with, so i settled for an Asahi. That pretty much negated any nutritional benefits there might have been. 
Interestingly enough...all food in the future will resemble Walker's Shortbread.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Kirala isn't a real Japanese restaurant
That's right. It isn't. Sure it's good, the sushi had generous slices of fish and the robata items were very good. I could go into more detail about what exactly the food did to my palate and how i was "bouncing around in anticipation for the next course" and shit, but
1) I don't want to sound like a complete tool.
2) You can get plenty of that on my sister's blog (Quit your whining I just gave you free advertising).
Kirala's food wasn't flawless though. The spicy sardine from the grill wasn't actually spicy, and the assorted nigiri that came with the sushi dinners included tamago and ebi, cheap fillers that lovers of raw fish would be happier without. At Kirala's prices, the inclusion of these particular (read "crappy") pieces of sushi is disappointing (as is their inclusion of fake grass on your plate. I fucking hate that fake grass...who the hell decided that all sushi should be served with fake grass?). If you go for sushi, you're much better off ordering your favorites a la carte, provided your waitress doesn't choose to selectively tune you out if you change your mind, then "accidentally" bring you the sushi you didn't want and still charge you the 6 bucks for it. Also, we were at a table near the entrance to the bathroom and right by the most crowded area of the bar, cut off from the main dining area by loud drunk college people (two of whom smelled strangely similar to strippers...trust me I know the smell).
None of these flaws, however, are what make Kirala unauthentic. They've overlooked the one thing that makes every Japanese restaurant a Japanese restaurant.
There's no fake food displayed in the window.
Seriously, just hop on a plane and go to Tokyo right now. Every restaurant has ultra-realistic models of the food they serve in a display window. In fact, if it weren't for those ultra-realistic models, many visitors to Japan (including my family) would starve, or eat delicious Mos Burger every day (Don't ask me what the hell the website says, I freaking don't speak Japanese...all I know is that at their website, you can "Catch the latest MOS news and charge yourself with joy").
So in the end, Kirala has good food, but suffers from a gross lack of authenticity. You should sitll go check it out though, you might get to see strippers.
Kirala
2100 Ward St
Berkeley, CA 94705
1) I don't want to sound like a complete tool.
2) You can get plenty of that on my sister's blog (Quit your whining I just gave you free advertising).
Kirala's food wasn't flawless though. The spicy sardine from the grill wasn't actually spicy, and the assorted nigiri that came with the sushi dinners included tamago and ebi, cheap fillers that lovers of raw fish would be happier without. At Kirala's prices, the inclusion of these particular (read "crappy") pieces of sushi is disappointing (as is their inclusion of fake grass on your plate. I fucking hate that fake grass...who the hell decided that all sushi should be served with fake grass?). If you go for sushi, you're much better off ordering your favorites a la carte, provided your waitress doesn't choose to selectively tune you out if you change your mind, then "accidentally" bring you the sushi you didn't want and still charge you the 6 bucks for it. Also, we were at a table near the entrance to the bathroom and right by the most crowded area of the bar, cut off from the main dining area by loud drunk college people (two of whom smelled strangely similar to strippers...trust me I know the smell).
None of these flaws, however, are what make Kirala unauthentic. They've overlooked the one thing that makes every Japanese restaurant a Japanese restaurant.
There's no fake food displayed in the window.
Seriously, just hop on a plane and go to Tokyo right now. Every restaurant has ultra-realistic models of the food they serve in a display window. In fact, if it weren't for those ultra-realistic models, many visitors to Japan (including my family) would starve, or eat delicious Mos Burger every day (Don't ask me what the hell the website says, I freaking don't speak Japanese...all I know is that at their website, you can "Catch the latest MOS news and charge yourself with joy").
So in the end, Kirala has good food, but suffers from a gross lack of authenticity. You should sitll go check it out though, you might get to see strippers.
Kirala
2100 Ward St
Berkeley, CA 94705
Monday, August 15, 2005
One of the great mysteries of life...
Why the hell do white people love Honey Walnut Shrimp so much? Yesterday, dining with my family at a fantastic Chinese restaurant in San Francisco, I noticed that every non-Asian party in the restaurant had ordered Honey Walnut Shrimp (although I am often inclined to exaggerate, this is actually true). Don't get me wrong. Fried shrimp is fucking fantastic. I'll eat that any day. Candied walnuts are also great. But when you take fried shrimp and you roll it in a sauce that resembles a bodily fluid, I'll pass. Perhaps this "special" sauce is the reason the dish is so popular, and maybe this is also the reason Fear Factor is still on the air. In order to find answers to these troubling questions, I consulted the most comprehensive source of knowledge in the universe, Google. The wise and almighty Google directed me to About.com's Chinese food section. There, I was greeted by:
Rhonda Parkinson, My Guide to Chinese Food
Hmm...well that doesn't seem very authentic. But I bet she spent a bunch of time in China or something right? "Rhonda has a Master's degree in Political Science from Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia. In the cooking department, she has taken several courses in Chinese and Asian cooking."
Well thank God there's a true expert out there to tell us all about Chinese food. She's taken not one, not two, but an unspecified "SEVERAL" courses in Chinese cooking. By the sixth grade, I had taken SEVERAL sex ed courses, which I'm sure, qualified me as an expert on having sex.
I'd bet you anything that Rhonda Parkinson and her family can't get enough Honey Walnut Shrimp.
Rhonda Parkinson, My Guide to Chinese FoodHmm...well that doesn't seem very authentic. But I bet she spent a bunch of time in China or something right? "Rhonda has a Master's degree in Political Science from Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia. In the cooking department, she has taken several courses in Chinese and Asian cooking."
Well thank God there's a true expert out there to tell us all about Chinese food. She's taken not one, not two, but an unspecified "SEVERAL" courses in Chinese cooking. By the sixth grade, I had taken SEVERAL sex ed courses, which I'm sure, qualified me as an expert on having sex.
I'd bet you anything that Rhonda Parkinson and her family can't get enough Honey Walnut Shrimp.
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