Tokyo Tempura Bar

I was in Tokyo for business on my thirty-somethingth birthday, and my friend Joe who was traveling with me took me out to dinner to celebrate. We went to the tempura bar in the lobby of our fancy hotel. I had never been to a tempura bar before. Have you?

I’d always loved tempura, ever since I was a kid and we’ d go to the Tempura House. Over the years I’d grown used to the Big Five of tempura – shrimp, broccoli, sweet potato, green pepper and carrot. Supplemented if the tempura cook really wanted to go out on a limb with perhaps an onion ring or spear of asparagus. And I was perfectly happy with those. But the tempura bar in Tokyo was a revelation. I ordered nothing. The chef simply presented things before me — a tiny shrimp, a small butterflied fish, a leaf as light as air, a chili pepper, a piece of eel squeezed with lemon, sea urchin wrapped in shiso leaf. One after another, bites of tempura emerged from the hot oil encased in a delicate, crisp shell of batter you could see right through. No green bell pepper, no onion rings.

I like to impress my friends at home by doing tempura bar. It’s surprisingly easy and makes an even funner evening than fondue! I like to discover my own favorite things I can batter and drop into the oil — whole soft shell crabs, small bundles of snow white enoki mushrooms, chunks of king crab. And I like to offer up different dipping sauces for the different types of tempura.

You can do tempura bar at home like me! I’ll teach you. It’s best done with a small group of friends — maybe you, your spouse and your favorite other couple. And it’s the most fun if your kitchen has a bar like ours. But if not, a table will do, so long as you’re close to the kitchen. Pick up a nice cold saké and have some Sapporo on hand. Here’s how, knock yourself out:

Tempura
for batter:
6 oz ice cold water
4 oz. flour
1 egg yolk

Set mixing bowl in larger bowl filled with ice. Mix together ice water and egg yolk. And flour and stir until mixed.

for tempura:
(note: you can improvise and fry almost any seafood or vegetable)
3 cups canola or peanut oil
1 cup flour, spread out on a large dinner plate
4 shrimp, cleaned with tail left on, and flattened with the flat side of a large knife
1/2 lb king crab legs, meat removed in large chunks from shells
1/2 lb boneless black cod or other whitefish fillet, cut into quarters
1 Japanese eggplant, cut into four pieces
1 small sweet potato, peeled and cut into four pieces
4 shiso leaves (or substitute spinach leaves)
1 bunch enoki mushrooms, cut into four small bundles
4 green onions, trimmed of dark green ends

Have your guests sit wherever you’re going to serve them, with plates and dipping sauces ready. You will serve each guest immediately as the tempura emerges from the oil. Give each guest a bowl of steamed rice, and have soy sauce on the table too.

Heat oil in a large wok over medium high heat until a drop of batter sizzles and floats. Cook tempura a few pieces at a time — you’ll probably want to do your tempura in stages, cooking all of one item before moving on. (i.e. start with mushrooms and shiso, move on to shrimp and crab, then eggplant and onion, etc.) Quickly dip each piece first in flour, then in the batter. Then drop in the oil. Cook for about 3-4 minutes, or until golden and crisp. Remove to a plate lined with paper towels, and serve to your guests while hot. Continue until all the tempura is cooked.

You will want to have a skimmer on hand to skim out bits of tempura batter from time to time as you go, as they will burn and lend an unpleasant taste to your tempura.

Dipping sauces:
Dashi Soy
Mix 1/2 cup water with powdered dashi stock to taste. Add 1/4 cup low sodium soy sauce and 1/4 cup mirin cooking wine. Heat until warm. Serve with vegetables, shrimp.

Ponzu Butter
Heat 2/3 cup ponzu and juice from one lemon until warm. Remove from heat and stir in 1 tbsp. butter. Serve with crab, shrimp and other seafood.

Spicy Dipping Sauce
Heat 1/4 cup soy sauce and 1/3 cup sweetened rice wine vinegar. Remove from heat and stir in 1 tbsp. Srirachi or other chili pepper sauce, 1 tbsp. sesame oil and 1 tbsp. minced green onion. Serve with vegetables and seafood.

January — A Winter’s Tale

Many years ago, my friend, Gary, and I decided after an especially indulgent December, that we weren’t going to drink for the month of January. We lasted around eight days, which was really good for us at the time. In the intervening years, however, I got better. And each year, I added more austere measures to my January regimen until it included not only no alcohol but no meat, no dairy, no sugar, no caffeine. It was challenging, but forced me to be creative with my cooking. And it felt kinda good… especially when January ended and I had that first glass of wine.

I don’t do that anymore. With a hungry family, it’s too much work. But I still like to dial it back a bit, tuck the corkscrew away, drink tea, make long-simmered soups with starchy vegetables. So far this January, we’ve had homemade New England clam chowder with fresh baked bread, crab bisque, tortelloni in brodo (a Bolognese specialty — fat tortelleni in a rich chicken broth).

From a food perspective, January is an interesting time. It is the beginning of a new year, yet it is also the depth of winter. There’s a dueling metaphor in there somewhere. And although in Southern California we do have milder winters than other places, it is still a time to hunker down. As I write this, it’s 37 degrees outside. I could get a tomato if I wanted, but it might’ve been flown in from Peru. Instead I feel an almost instinctual desire to prepare hearty dishes, things with root vegetables and meat bones. Meals made from the stuff that in the old days used to last the winter through in the larder.

This winter, when guests knock unexpectedly on your door to come in out of the cold, give them a big bowl of this soup and a thick slice of crusty bread slathered with butter. Serves many.

*   *   *

Winter Vegetable Soup

2 quarts good chicken stock (made from scratch, if possible)
2 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
2 large parsnips, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large potato, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large onion, cut into quarters
1 cup chopped kale
1 tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup heavy cream
salt & pepper to taste

In a baking dish, toss carrots, parsnips, onion and potato in olive oil. Sprinkle with salt, and roast in a 400-degree oven for 30 minutes, tossing once or twice, until golden. Place in a large saucepan and add chicken stock. Add kale, bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, lower heat and cover, cook for 20 minutes.

Remove the soup from the stove. Allow to cool for 30 minutes, then puree in a blender. Return to pan, return pan to stove over medium-low heat, and add cream. Heat for 10 minutes, then season with salt and pepper to taste.

New Year’s Eve, 2010/11

Each year, we gather with a small group of dear friends — the same cast, year after year, with rare new invites — for an intimate New Year’s Eve dinner. It’s a great excuse to let my creativity run wild with expensive and rare ingredients my wife wouldn’t normally let me buy. Indeed, my friends have come to expect as much.

Here, without further ado, are some highlights of the 12 courses from our 2010/11 New Year’s Eve dinner. Enjoy…

Mise en place

Yellowtail sashimi with spicy lemon aioli, wasabi flying fish roe, crispy garlic and chervil salad

Yellowtail sashimi with spicy lemon aioli, wasabi flying fish roe, crispy garlic and chervil salad

Garlic soft shell crab with roasted shimeji mushrooms and sakura denbu

“Duck clouds” — Rillettes with white truffles, plum sauce and truffle scallion potato mousse

Quail breast medallions, crispy wonton, savoy cabbage and Clementine ginger reduction

Duck liver paté ravioli with mashed Kyoto sweet potato, demi glace butter and shoga ginger

Proscuitto di Parma with winter melon and Calpico gels, sugar shards and pickled garlic

Hickory-smoked five spice baby back ribs with "kim chi" red cabbage chiffonade

Dark chocolate-draped madeleines with coffee whipped cream

The cook

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