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Despair doesn’t begin to describe the feeling one has when faced with the possibility that one has moved to a country that simply doesn’t enjoy fine sushi. By fine, I don’t mean anything particularly special — I mean only that the sushi must be of premium quality, made by itamae steeped in Japanese tradition, and [...] Back in September, 2003, in Part XI of PWSBK, I railed about the vile nature of people who eat with their mouths open. These people are so poorly mannered, so hideous to behold, that they deserve a new — a second — shout out for their killing. I’ve spent the last two or three weeks [...] Isa's sashimi Today, Jeremy and I enjoyed omakase lunch with Isa at Ebisu. I urged Isa to hew freely from my normal sashimi requirements. He delivered several tasty, bright, and colorful plates, including this one. Clockwise from top: ikura and uni in a shiso bed, sprouts and daikon radish, scallop, crunchy and very fresh [...] Tommy's sashimi I’m not a huge fan of taking pictures of food in restaurants, but it seems so appropriate when sushi is involved, and for probably good reason. The bright, shiny, colorful qualities of raw fish — it’s like photographing a fruit bowl, or studying a table-top still life from hundreds of years ago. [...] Just got back from a lovely trip to Seattle. It was my fourth visit to the gray city, but probably the first time I really had a memorable stay. The difference between this and previous visits is that I was sleep-deprived and burnt out from work — two conditions that make a very unhappy and [...] I had a large link of sweet Italian sausage and 8 pastured eggs lying around and wondered what to do with them. I looked up “sausage omelettes” and encountered this. I didn’t have any milk or onion, and only cheddar cheese. Fine, milk and onions are usually optional for cooked eggs, and I would [...] I sat the bar of a local oyster house, eagerly awaiting my assorted kusshi, wellfleets, and miyagis, when a very old woman sat down beside me. Although she hadn’t yet opened her mouth, around her hung the fog of a person who is always on the edge of saying something, anything, whether it makes sense [...] I grew up with dry turkey, no matter who made it: family, friends, family of friends. So, I’m not a big turkey fan. I eat it for Thanksgiving, but rarely otherwise unless it’s a random package of turkey bacon or a sandwich worth of turkey salad. Turkey is like the utilitarian domestic bird: big enough [...] I grew up a Pepsi kid. Somewhere in my 20s, I converted to a Coke guy. Cokes never made me fat and I really paid no attention to what was in one. They did give me pimples — rather, drinking two or three over the course of two days would give me one superpowered zit, [...] |
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Copyright © 2012 H. Andrew Lynch - All Rights Reserved |
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