Ramen is going through something of a renaissance, a resurgence. Whether on the kitschy side with ramen burgers or the explosion of ramen joints in NYC, most notably Ivan Ramen on the Lower East Side, the food world is paying attention again to those squiggly noodles in broth. And for the first time in years, we’re seeing new entrants to the ramen market on grocery store shelves, like Lotus Foods’ Rice Ramen.
Grandmas are liars. There, I said it.
Look inside their recipes boxes or the careful cursive recipes on scraps of paper stuck inside other cookbooks and you’ll know their dark hearts. Lists of ingredients, no amounts, sometimes no instructions.
These lies aren’t intentionally meant to deceive. Or to maintain an illusion, like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. These lies are lesser crimes, crimes of omission. But lies nevertheless. Like with my Grandma’s Fried Rice.
A thousand cranes are said to bring good luck, grant a wish and/or otherwise give good ju-ju. For our wedding we folded 1,000 red, orange and yellow cranes. When I say we, I mean mostly me, my mom and my aunties. On my lunch breaks at work, I sat in the breakroom, folding, folding, folding. …
It always makes me laugh that instant ramen is (dis)regarded as college food. It’s the savior for the days when you’re so broke you drink Keystone Light and survive on a 33 cent pack of noodles. You couldn't possibly eat it because...you like it. But as with so many foods from my childhood, maybe initially…
Last weekend, I finished reading Matthew Amster-Burton's Pretty Good Number One, a travelogue slash memoir slash love letter to Japanese food. Funded by a Kickstarter campaign, it's a book I'm sad to say I missed getting on board with, but I've now done my part by putting down $4.99 on Amazon. More on the book…
On Saturday, I texted my mom: “We’re at Obon in Seattle!”
It’s kind of crazy that we’ve lived in Seattle for almost 5 years and never been to the Obon festival here. Or as Seattle calls it, Bon Odori. It’s a Buddhist festival of remembrance, but for me, it's always been more of a cultural event than a religious one. As a kid, Obon was synonymous with summer and it was about teri burgers and wontons and Okinawa dango and corn on the cob and snow cones and winning goldfish at carnival games and watching the bon dancing. And pretty much it still is. Even in a different city. You just don’t realize until you’re an adult how much those simple things connect you to so many other people.Some nights you just need a little detox, a light dinner to take the edge off days-in-a-row of too much rich food, or a little too much imbibing. OJ calls that meal, "Japanese Dinner." It's clean -- simply cubed tofu topped with green onions and drizzled with soy sauce, served with rice and quick pickled…
If you ever want to know the backstory on a fruit, David Karp is your man. Last year, he wrote about the arrival of the dekopon, a Japanese variety of mandarin, just entering the market in California and I was all over my local stores in Washington trying to see if they'd carry them. No such luck.
So when Karp heralded the arrival of this year's dekopons, marketed as "Sumo Citrus," in last week's LA Times food section and it coincided with a trip down south to visit a friend, I knew we had to find a Whole Foods in her neighborhood.
If there's a Starbucks on every corner in Seattle, right next to it is a teriyaki shop. We have more teriyaki joints (most of them unmemorable) around here than any other place I've ever lived. In fact, there's one right next door to Aloha Ramen, which just seems crazy to me. But there's no contest -- you want to go to Aloha Ramen. You think you want chicken teriyaki? No, no, you want karaage, Japanese fried chicken, right next door.