Sourdough is so cool. Basically you just mix flour and water together and then you get homegrown yeast! Kind of like a pet that you grow from scratch.
I’ve always loved sourdough bread. It might be because it’s my mom’s favorite type of bread; I’ve eaten a lot of it over the years. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’m a texture junkie when it comes to food. I love the combination of an open crumb and a crunchy crust. The distinctive sourdough flavor is also divine.
Turns out, it’s super easy to get started making your own sourdough. All you really need is water and flour. I keep my sourdough starter at 100% hydration, which means that there are equal amounts by weight of flour and water.
It should only take about 5 days to grow an active starter, depending on your environment. As a rule, the higher the ambient temperature, the more quickly the yeast reproduces.
Start by mixing together flour and water in equal amounts. It is important to use a kitchen scale for accuracy. While it isn’t necessary to have them exactly equal, if you’re too far off the mark, there may not be enough food (read: flour) for the yeast to consume and you might end up with a malnourished starter. In addition, it is important to know the hydration of your starter when making bread.
Instructions
Day 1: Combine 100g flour and 100g water. Mix well and store. Day 2: Remove all but 100g starter. Add 100g flour and 100g water. Mix well and store. Repeat Day 2 instructions until starter is active.
Every time you feed your starter, take a spoonful and drop it into a cup of tepid water. If the starter floats, that means it’s active. It might hit the bottom and slowly rise to the surface. Ideally, you want the starter to float up immediately.
How to tell if your starter is healthy
You might find a layer of clear liquid at the top of your starter on day 2 or 3. Don’t be discouraged. Stir in the liquid and feed the starter again. You should only be concerned if the mixture has developed spots or an unpleasant smell. This may happen even if you’ve had a healthy starter for a while. These are symptoms of unwanted mold or bacteria colonization. If this occurs, discard the starter entirely and start from scratch. It may take a few tries, but you’ll get there!
Make sure you’re always using clean water and utensils so you’re not accidentally introducing foreign bacteria. The biggest thing to watch out for is soap. If you get soap into your starter, it will soon develop the aforementioned black flecks and smell really funky.
How to store a sourdough starter
Use a glass or plastic container. Many metals are reactive and will affect the performance of your starter. Stainless steel should be OK, but I like to use transparent containers so I can see the activity at a glance.
I keep my sourdough in the drawer of our TV cabinet, covered with a paper towel and secured by a rubber band. This does mean that on drier days, the starter loses water. However, I’ve found that my starter is healthier and smells more pleasant when it is allowed to breathe. You may want to experiment in your own environment. Another factor is that keeping your starter out in the open will make small spaces smell strongly of yeast, which may be uncomfortable.
What to do with discarded starter
Once your starter is up and running, you’ll might feel guilty about dumping out two-thirds every time you feed it, especially if you’re feeding it with 100g of flour and water like me. You have a few options:
Reduce the amount of starter
You can choose to reduce the amount of starter you’re maintaining. For example, keep only 20g of starter and feed it with 20g each of flour and water. That means you’re only discarding 40g of starter instead of 200g.
Use sourdough discard in recipes
While discarded starter isn’t ideal for bread, it’s perfect for plenty of other recipes, like pancakes. As a rule of thumb, you can substitute starter for any flour + liquid combination in recipes in a 1:1 ratio, but there are also recipes that benefit from a little of fermentation’s TLC.
One example of using discarded starter with fermentation is my all-time favorite no-fuss recipe: overnight sourdough pancakes, linked below. I adapted my recipe from the Fluffier Overnight Sourdough Pancakes recipe on CulturesForHealth.com. Take a look if you get a chance! They have tons of great recipes.
Banana bread is a great example of using discarded starter for flavor, just as a substitute for flour and liquid. Simply mix in the starter and bake, no waiting time required.
Give it to your friends and coworkers
Sourdough is pretty much made to be shared. You’re making more every day, after all. Spread the sourdough happiness!
tl;dr Atomix is an amazing restaurant. I highly recommend!
I love Korean food. When I found out that NYC actually has two restaurants with a two Michelin star rating, I couldn’t wait to try them both. I went on Tock and found out that Atomix was doing a collaboration dinner with Mosu, a Korean one star Michelin restaurant in Seoul. They were sold out, so I pouted a bit, put myself on the waitlist, and expected nothing. After all, this was Thursday and the meal was on Monday.
A few hours later, as I was playing a game of Dominion with my coworkers, I got a call. Turns out, they had a last-minute cancellation for the 9 PM seating and I was the next one on the waitlist. Of course, I said yes!
Come Monday, I’m exhausted at work, not super excited to be having a late dinner. It was a done deal, though, so I woke myself up with a brisk 20-minute walk to Atomix from the office, arriving exactly on time. The lady at the front desk took my coat, but I wasn’t handed a coat check tag. I was directed to the bar, where I ordered a cocktail to pass the time.
After about ten minutes, I was shown downstairs. The experience had been described as “communal,” which didn’t exactly paint a picture in my mind, so I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that the seating was around a horseshoe-shaped bar. There were no separate tables, though the chairs were subtly grouped together, with a noticeable but not blatant gap between each party. There were fourteen seats at the Monday 9 PM seating.
The snacks were served asynchronously between diners. The first one was a dehydrated (see: intensely crunchy) burdock skin, placed over cultured butter with seaweed. This is a signature dish from Mosu. They told us to use our hands and break it up to scoop the butter. I do wish that they provided us with towelettes or some such, but it was delicious even with the worry that I was consuming some sort of odd bacteria.
Dehydrated burdock skin
Broken up
The next dish was odd and slightly disconcerting. I’m as much a fan of intestines and offal as the next person, but having what looks like an orange candy presented to me and being told that it’s filled with fish gizzards is quite off-putting. Never mind that it was served atop a literal pile of disembodied fish heads, eyes white and unseeing. The orange shell turns out to be candied carrot, dusted with matcha powder. I have to say this one wasn’t enjoyable.
Fish gizzards in candied carrot shell
King crab in dried kelp
The next dish was king crab in a dried kelp shell. This one, while tasty, really just seemed like an elevated potato salad. I wasn’t blown away. However, these were just the snacks.
Before we started the meal, Chef Junghyun Park, the owner of Atomix, stepped out to introduce Chef Ahn Sung-jae, the owner of Mosu. Both of them greeted us and briefly spoke about the spirit of the collaboration dinner. We “cheers”-ed them with a drink, a clear liquid that is at once tart and savory, with a bit of a marine flavor. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but it was wonderfully refreshing.
On to the meal! The first course is julienned water radish over yellowtail sashimi, served in an apple jus made with clementines and a hint of gochugaru. One of the lady waitstaff approaches and redirects me to using the spoon instead of chopsticks. The dish is refreshing with a light taste of citrus. I love yellowtail.
Water radish with yellowtail sashimi
Look at the yellowtail!
Second course is shredded mushrooms and what seems like jicama. One of the menu cards informs us that the only added flavoring is salt, with all other flavors coming from the fermentation process. My eyes widen and I sample the dish, focused. Fermentation is super cool.
Third course is a butternut squash terrine in pumpkin seed milk with a generous heap of caviar on top. We’re told there’s preserved chili in the dish, which I personally don’t notice at all. The terrine has an interesting texture; the edges are caramelized and hard to break up, not soft like I expect. The seed milk is surprisingly rich with a nutty flavor. While in all it is a little sweet for my liking, it’s an interesting medley of ingredients. The briny caviar pairs well with the sweetness of the terrine and the creaminess of the milk.
Fermented mushrooms
Butternut terrine with pumpkin seed milk and caviar
At this point, one of the servers asks if I want some wine. I tell her I’m not a fan of white and prefer full-bodied reds, but will try whatever pairs well with the next courses. It would be odd to have a merlot with fish. “Some half-glasses, perhaps?” They bring me my first half-glass, a light red called Le Trousseau.
The next dish is smoked Japanese mackerel in a ginger carrot jus. The first taste short-circuits something in my brain. I don’t like carrots, as a general rule, but the jus tastes like straight butterscotch. What??? My mind is blown. The buttery, toffee-like flavor is so concentrated that when I taste lemon a third of the way through the fish, I’m shocked out of a kind of stupor. I could feel the richness of the jus creeping up on me, but all of a sudden the citric acid cuts through all of it and balances me out. What a divine concoction. I clean out my plate and sit back, still reeling.
Smoked Japanese mackerel with butterscotch ginger carrot jus.
I comment on the butterscotch impression and am informed that the butteriness actually comes from a butter-roasted pine cone. So it wasn’t magic after all, but still a stroke of genius.
The next dish is charcoal-grilled Japanese tilefish with burnt kale oil and white kimchi. Chef JP comes around with some sauce: sea urchin and dashi. While the combination of ingredients sounds OP, the taste is quite familiar. I’m not sure I’ve ever had tilefish before, but it reminds me of cod. I’m not nearly as blown away by this dish as I was by the previous one, but it is delicious nonetheless. The fish is tender and perfectly done.
Our first meat dish is a roasted French quail. The bird is accompanied by a beautiful oblong scoop of beetroot mole, made with gochujang and the traditional chocolate. Foie gras fat glistens on the golden skin and adds flavor to the quail jus, spooned onto our plates by Chef JP. Chicken stock and soy sauce are also key players.
Charcoal-grilled Japanese tilefish
Roasted French quail with beetroot mole
The quail is served with a banchan, not pictured above. I didn’t find the flavor of the banchan particularly complementary to the quail, so I left most of it unconsumed.
Next is a monkfish liver custard with mushrooms and cheonggukjang. Chef JP pours a clear mussel broth over the concoction. The mushrooms are pleasantly buttery and fragrant, balanced well by the light coolness of the mussel broth. The custard is glossy and rich. There is an herb that tastes like citrus, small veiny leaves floating on the surface of the broth.
Monkfish liver custard in mussel broth
Chateau Calon Ségur Saint-Estèphe, Grand Cru Classé
My second half glass of wine is a full-bodied red. It’s the 2010 vintage of Chateau Calon Ségur Grand Cru Classé, from Saint-Estèphe, France. “Exclusive for this collaboration dinner,” they tell me. I find out later that I was charged $55 for the whopping 2.5 oz (a standard half-glass) of wine. Oh well… it was delicious, and it paired perfectly with the following course.
Everything has been fairly light so far, so the next dish is heavy by comparison. It’s a tender portion of lamb, overlaid with a thin slice of something I couldn’t quite figure out. It’s served with a side of perfectly fluffy white rice, topped with eggplant fried in lamb fat. I’m not generally a lamb-lover, but this course was fulfilling and exactly on point as the last main dish.
Lamb with mysterious topping
White rice with lamb fat-fried eggplant
To round off the night’s menu, we have two dessert courses. Of course, I can’t say no to a dessert wine. I’m presented with a 2006 vintage of Chateau Pajzos Tokaji Aszu 5 Puttonyos, a beautifully tinted wine from Hungary. Not too sweet, but a half-glass is the perfect amount.
2006 Chateau Pajzos Tokaji Aszu 5 Puttonyos
The first is a ginger cream with a ginger, cinnamon, and black pepper oil sauce. Thin slices of muscat adorn the mound of cream. There’s a sprinkling of popping candy on top for some extra pizzazz. “Just for fun!” The cream is cold, subtly sweet, and airy like a cloud.
The second dessert is a mousse ice cream with a caramel sauce and apple bits. Simple, but wonderfully executed. The warm caramel is rich and buttery but complements the light ice cream well.
Ginger cream with muscat
Ice cream with caramel sauce
I’ve definitely consumed a significant amount of food, but I don’t feel greasy and heavy. When I’m presented with a wood box and told I’m to have it for breakfast in the morning, I don’t laugh at the prospect of ever being hungry again (as sometimes happens when I overeat).
Each diner is given a small goodie bag, filled with the aforementioned breakfast treat box and the menu cards. Mine also contains a list of restaurant recommendations, curated by the staff of Atoboy. It even includes a personal recommendation by Chef JP. I was given this because I mentioned I’d only recently moved to the city.
The checks are brought around in a timely manner, but I don’t feel rushed as everyone starts clearing out. We’re personally escorted upstairs one by one, so that there’s no congestion at the coat check. Understandably, I’m all smiles as I exit, waving at everyone whom I chatted with during the night.
Final thoughts
While this meal was undeniably a splurge on my part, I believe that it was worth it. Even without the fact that it was a one-of-a-kind collaboration dinner, it was evident that Atomix upholds high standards in terms of food, ambience, and service. I felt that I was welcomed as a solo diner and personally addressed, even though there were other diners who were familiar with the chefs or members of the staff. The atmosphere was one that was both friendly and serious about the culinary experience. I’d love to go back again, perhaps with some friends or coworkers.
I love to bake, and you probably can’t tell yet, but I’m obsessed with sourdough. If you don’t know about sourdough, read my explanation and instructions on how to make your own in the post linked below.
Now, my penchant for baking and cooking is in conflict with my inability to consume large amounts of food in a sustainable manner. I recently realized I can get around this by bringing most of what I make to the folks at my office. Two or three times a week, usually, I’ll bring some baked good and/or pancakes (they’re sourdough too! I’ll post a recipe soon) and ping the office Slack. I get introduced to new hires as the office baker now. It’s great, because it means I get to experiment a lot. I’ve pretty much perfected pancakes.
For a while, I’d bake bread and let it cool overnight before bringing it to the office (rather than baking it morning of). This was because if I didn’t let it cool and put it in a bag, the lovely crust would get soft and not be crunchy anymore. At some point, though, I remembered that bread is supposed to be stored in paper. Cue bringing fresh bread to work!
I feed my starter at night. That means it usually reaches the peak of its activity in the morning. However, I missed it Saturday night because of my Halloweekend frolics (I made it back home at around 4 AM, way past feeding time).
My starter’s old enough to last 36-48 hours, so I just fed it when I got up at 11 AM on Sunday. That means that last night, my sourdough starter was extremely active. It bobbed immediately to the surface when I did the water test and I literally squealed in excitement. I had a suspicion because it looked THICC.
I had to make bread. My roommate had some leftover grated parmesan that we needed to get rid of, so naturally I made cheesy bread. It wasn’t very much Parmesan, but it did lend a really full flavor to the loaf. I adapted the olive, parmesan, and thyme recipe from Artisan Sourdough Made Simple. It’s a great, versatile recipe that results in a slightly denser loaf (if you don’t add the olives, which is where the extra moisture comes from). You can also use all bread flour instead of adding all-purpose flour. The AP makes the bread chewier (found out by accident once when I added about 150 g by mistake). This recipe also halves well.
Step 8 in the process: relaxing.
Ingredients
The dough
50 g active sourdough starter, 100% hydration 360 g lukewarm water 470 g bread flour 30 g all-purpose flour 9 g salt
The mix-ins
up to 50 g of parmesan 1/2 tbsp dried thyme (or fresh, if you have it) 1/2 tsp cumin
Dissolve the starter into the water. Use a whisk, fork, or your hands.
Add the flour and mix until combined.
Scrape down the bowl and let the dough hydrate for 10 minutes.
Knead the mix-ins into the dough until well combined. It’s better to sprinkle in a little at a time. Otherwise, they’ll be unevenly distributed.
Scrape down the bowl, pushing the dough into one mass.
Cover with a damp towel and put in a warm place (ideally at least 21 C or 70 F) to rise for about 8-10 hours, depending on the vitality of your starter and the temperature. You’ll know the dough is ready when you poke it and impression lingers in the dough without immediately bouncing back.
Pre-heat the oven and Dutch oven, if you are using one, to 232 C / 450 degrees F.
Dump the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Gather the edges in towards the middle until you’re all the way around, then use a bench scraper to flip it over (onto another lightly floured surface) so that the seam is down. Let relax for about 10 minutes.
Using a bench scraper, flip the dough back over, seam side up, and shape. I made mine into an oval like so: starting from the side farther from you, pinch the left side gently and bring it to the middle. Repeat on the right side, overlapping. You’ll get what kind of looks like a zipper. From the bottom, start rolling away from you until the seam is facing down. Flour the top generously, pick it up with your bench scraper, and put it into your floured proofing basket, seam side down. Cover with a damp towel and let proof until puffy (not that long, about 20-30 min).
Flip the banneton over onto a parchment cut to fit the Dutch oven, and score the dough with a lamé or a sharp knife. Confidently!
Lower into the preheated Dutch oven. Bake with the lid on for 20 min. Uncover and bake for 30 min. Bake directly on the rack for 10 min, or until the color is to your liking. Your house will smell AMAZING.
Ready to bake!
I mixed up all the ingredients and let it proof overnight. It could have used a bit more proofing time, but this loaf is suited to being a bit denser anyhow. Shaped it in the morning and wrapped everything up in about an hour and a half. It was still warm when I got to the office about 35 min after taking it out of the oven. Mmmm… fresh bread.
For context, this is the first Halloweekend (as you might guess, next week is the second). That means yesterday was the first Halloween Saturday, which in turn means that there was partying.
I started off the day so well. I went to the farmer’s market at noon for the first time, and bought two sweet potatoes, a butternut squash, and a daikon radish. It’s only a few minutes away, and the attending farmers have a great selection of produce, as well as dairy and eggs. I’m excited to go back next week when I’ve finished what I already have in the fridge. I’ll be writing another post on why I’ve decided to stop using Imperfect for produce, as well as my plan going forward.
I made some pretty spectacular failures that were supposed to be salmon sweet potato pancakes. My penchant for adapting recipes definitely led me astray here, since my pancakes just could not hold together. Plus, I don’t think I like the combination of sweet potato and salmon. The turnip I added definitely didn’t help. Too bad I have two more portions left to finish. Damn.
I started this blog and made my first blog post. At around 8:20 pm, as I was writing my second (the Satsuki review), I realized I needed to change and put on a costume. I was super tempted to just stay home and blog, but I’ve been a recluse for a few weeks and really needed to socialize. I legitimately just sat and Googled “easy halloween costume” and “easy halloween costume jeans” for a few minutes until I hit on “Biker Chick.” That means I just wore pretty much what I wear to the office: leather jacket, jeans, and a high-neck top. All black, of course. I didn’t have a black bandana, so I wore the pink lace-edged one my grandma gave me. “I’m a biker chick whose black bandana is in the wash,” I say.
Needless to say, I woke up with a raging hangover at 11 am today and needed something hearty with soup. I contemplated going to get pho. The place is a few streets away and it was raining with no signs of stopping. Take-out pho is no good. I really didn’t want to put on real person clothes and brave the wet, even if pho is the ultimate hangover food, for my family at least. Whenever we feel the slightest bit unwell, whether physically or mentally, we like to bask in the restorative properties of the broth. I like mine with a bit of fire, preferably in the form of Thai chilies, and extra sour with copious amounts of lime. In Seoul, the morning after an insane night out with my sister and her friend on the day we were both flying home, my sister dragged herself and me to a pho place she’d found, suitcases in tow. We’d been partying at a noraebang (karaoke bar) until hours past dawn, and I’d gotten maybe three proper hours of sleep after an hour or so with my head in the toilet. You can imagine that hangover/residual drunkenness. It really was a mean sonovab*tch.
We’ve gotten it overseas a lot too. Yes, it sounds ridiculous. We even had pho in Prague. It feels bad, but we have to satisfy our cravings, right? Just like when we went to a Sichuan restaurant in Chefchaouen, Morocco.
But this post is not about pho. It’s about ramyun, because today I am a shut-in. Honestly, this shouldn’t be classified as a recipe, but here is how I made it.
First, I made a soft-boiled egg as per the recipe linked below. I mixed up a marinade of soy sauce, a dash of rice vinegar, sesame oil, and garlic powder. Leaving the egg to marinate, I checked in the fridge to see what I could add.
It just so happened that last week, my roommate and I visited the Artisanal Sweet Treats Bazaar at the Grand Bazaar in the Upper West Side. I wouldn’t have gone, but I saw the event and I knew that my roommate, who has a MASSIVE sweet tooth, would want to go. There was a Korean vendor there selling bindaetteok (mung bean pancakes). I bought a small tub of homemade kimchi, but it a bit harsh and wasn’t quite right. That’s how it ended up sitting in my fridge for a week, until this morning when I took the entire tub and just dumped it into the pan. Voilà– veggies and flavor with no work!
I used Shin cup ramyun since that’s all I had. I personally think the dried veggie mix is kind of gross, so I dumped it out, but you can choose to leave it in. It’s easier with the bag ramyun because it comes in a separate packet.
You can use other ramyun too, but the flavor profiles might not work with this recipe. In that case, you could also just ditch the powder pack altogether and just double or triple the ingredients, namely the gochujang, gochugaru, and the stock. Just use your creativity and taste as you go along. Needless to say, all of the ingredients below are optional if you’re using the flavor pack. I’m just dressing up something that’s already delicious!
yes, you’re meant to eat it from the pan
Ingredients
water per ramyun instructions, or about 1 cup more for a lighter soup 2 cloves of garlic, cut in half about 6 oz kimchi, chopped 1/4 cup roast chicken stock 1/2 tbsp soy marinade (soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, garlic powder) 1 tbsp gochujang (red chili paste) 1/2 tbsp gochugaru (coarsely ground red pepper) Korean ramyun mozzarella cheese, to taste 1 soy-marinated soft-boiled egg chopped scallions, to taste
Put the ramyun powder in the water with the kimchi, garlic, and stock. Bring to a boil.
Stir in the gochujang, gochugaru, and soy marinade.
Put the ramyun block in. Cook until about a minute short of desired consistency.
Sprinkle the mozzarella on top, then cover the lid for about 30 seconds to melt the cheese.
Done! To serve, slice the egg in half and place on top of the ramyun. Garnish with chopped scallions.
The addition of the marinade to the soup really helped boost it into “God, yes” territory. It was slightly too one-dimensional before; the marinade provided umami flavor that made it super delicious. If you’re not doing the soy-marinated egg, simply add a dash of soy sauce and sesame oil.
Note: if you sauté the garlic and kimchi in some oil for a minute or so before adding the water and other ingredients, it’ll make the end result more fragrant. This recipe is also good with extra water. It’ll make a soup that’s very sippable.
I made budae jjigae (Korean army stew) a few weeks ago and that was out of this world, but I wasn’t so ambitious this morning. I blame the headache. This ramyun hit just right, though I did exchange my hangover for another sort of discomfort (I’m lactose-intolerant). It’s ok. Cheese is so good!
My roommate likes to buy whole roast chickens and eat them over the course of the week. She’s done it for a while now, but it was only two weeks ago that I had the brilliant idea of turning the carcasses into stock. They’re not very large chickens, so they don’t produce very much stock, but it’s so worth having the stock on hand to make rice or a heartier ramen.
I make my stock in a 6-quart Dutch oven. I got it off Amazon to make sourdough, but it’s handy for soup. Since making stock requires starting with a lot of water, if you’re doubling or otherwise increasing this recipe you probably want use a bigger pot. I’m only using one, so it’s the perfect size (or even a little too large).
There are a lot of ingredients, but I think I actually might prefer the way simpler stock I made last week to the one I made last night. If you want to try the simpler version, just skip the carrots and celery. The carrots and celery provide sweetness to the stock, but I love a good, no-fuss, meaty broth.
Ingredients
1 roast chicken carcass, about 8 oz of bones and skin 1/2 large onion (any color), quartered 4-5 cloves garlic, cut in half 1 tbsp thyme generous amount of salt and pepper bunch of parsley, about 8 stalks (optional) 1/2 large carrot, about 1 cup diced (optional) 2 stalks celery, about 1 cup diced 4 quarts water
Rip/chop up the chicken carcass into manageable pieces
Combine everything in a pot
Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 2 hours, or until broth is reduced
I like to reduce the broth until it’s thick enough to gelatinize in the fridge. Not for any particular reason, I just think it’s kind of cool. It might also help it keep better. Once the fat solidifies at the surface, you can skim it off (or keep it for flavor).
You can add this broth to your ramyun or as a substitute for water to make flavorful rice. It’s also great by itself (diluted with water). You can use it as a simple base for noodles, too. Lots of things to explore!
My least favorite thing about hard-boiled eggs is the hard yolk. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out how to make boiled eggs the way I like them: with runny yolks. I just wrote off all boiled eggs entirely for years. I guess they also reminded me of that stint in high school where I dieted by eating an apple and two hard-boiled eggs for lunch. Bad, bad memories.
Turns out, making soft-boiled eggs is incredibly easy. Literally just:
Bring water to a boil
Put egg(s) in
Set a timer for 5-6 minutes
Scoop your egg(s) out and put in cold water
Peel when the eggs are cool enough to handle
I know the water ideally covers the eggs, but I like to use my small saucepan and just put the lid on. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I’m usually too lazy to set the timer, so I just putter around in the tiny kitchen and watch the clock on the stove top. The kitchen is literally just in the hallway. We’ve got like 4 square feet of counter space. Nice and cozy.
I still haven’t quite figured out how to get the eggs to peel well consistently. I think the water you chill the eggs in has to be very cold, and I just saw a tip about cracking the egg while it’s still in the water. I’ll try that at some point.
After you peel the eggs, you can marinate them to make soy sauce eggs. There are a bunch of legitimate recipes out there for making the marinade for authentic soy-marinated eggs (like this one), but I don’t have mirin (Japanese rice wine). Instead, I combine rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, and garlic to taste. You can even substitute garlic powder for fresh garlic if you’d like. Then just plop the eggs in to marinate. You can marinate them for as little as ten minutes to get just a subtle flavor boost, or in the fridge for up to two days. They’re great just with plain rice or as a topping for noodles. For example, I made a ten-minute soy marinated egg for my ramyun today.
A less-than-stellar iPhone photo of the third course
This past Thursday, I made a personal breakthrough. I finally got over my prejudice against going out to eat alone and booked a few restaurants over the next month. Maybe I can rope a coworker into going with me in the future, but for now I’m excited to experience them solo.
The restaurant
The first restaurant I picked was Sushi Satsuki, a 1-Michelin star omakase sushi bar. It is part of Suzuki, a restaurant in Midtown Manhattan. There wasn’t really any particular reason I chose Sushi Satsuki for my first foray into solo dinners except for the fact that it came up on Tock as available for a 7:30 reservation the next day. Suzuki is run by Yuta Suzuki, the son of Toshio Suzuki, owner of the famed Sushi Zen. It’s a three-part venture. Satsuki is a 10-seat sushi bar presided over by Toshio Suzuki and Kentaro Sawada, who worked at Zen. Three Pillars is a cocktail, wine, and sake bar. Suzukiis a kaiseki restaurant. All three are housed in the same basement space, a bit of a maze.
The beginning
I went to the gym after work and made it to the restaurant right on time. I was the first to arrive for the 7:30 seating. After I checked my coat, I was seated directly in front of Chef Toshio Suzuki’s working area. As soon as I arrived, he brought the two boxes of fish in front of me and named each fish and its source.
I ordered a Kagua Blanc, a Belgian-style beer with a strong aroma of yuzu, and watched Chef Suzuki prepare for the meal ahead as the remaining guests arrived. As each party arrived, he displayed each box of fish again and gave a complete listing. The waiter asked me for any dietary restrictions or allergies. I told him no wasabi (I know, but I hate horseradish).
There were 18 courses in all, to my reckoning. I won’t go into detail for all of them, but I’ll pick out the ones I had comments about.
The appetizers
bluefin tuna tartar and monkfish liver bonito sashimi salad with yuzu mixed platter: sashimi and cooked foods
I’m a huge fan of monkfish liver and haven’t had it in a long time, so although it was canned, I enjoyed it. The tartar was fresh but not spectacular in terms of texture or taste. As I finished the dish, the waiter asked me again- no wasabi? Yes, no wasabi. He placed a small paper sign in front of me, facing Chef Suzuki.
Chūtoro was the centerpiece of the mixed platter, which was served with two sauces. The waiter gave me instructions as to which sauce to use for each bite, and recommended leaving the crab meat in tomato water for last. Seeing the beautiful presentation of the platter, I was thoroughly excited to try each small bite, and for the most part I was not disappointed. However, I have to say I was let down by some of the cooked foods. The fried fig with peanut sauce and the fried octopus suckers were mediocre at best. The fig stem was still on, and after being fried and cooled, it was tough and inedible. What was described as “crunchy” suckers were rubbery and cold, and the breading on both bites was stale and unpleasant. To be honest, I had already had my reservations about these two items as I watched Chef Suzuki and his assistant plate them. Deep-fried foods are not meant to sit on cold plates for twenty minutes.
The crab in tomato water was fantastic. The meat was tender and juicy from being soaked, and the water was crisp and refreshing with a light aroma of tomatoes. The chūtoro was just fatty enough that I couldn’t eat two pieces consecutively, but still had a bite to it instead of just dissolving like ōtoro does.
Nigiri
shima-aji black herring with kelp ink squid flying fish with flying fish roe razor clam kimedai maguro ōtoro seared nodoguro Hokkaido uni anago [one mystery fish that I forgot to write down]
The platter was the last of the appetizers. Twelve pieces of nigiri followed. I’m a slave to texture, so my favorites were the ink squid and the razor clam. The squid was creamy and had a great bite to it, and the razor clam was crunchy and flavorful.
I did find that many of the other nigiri were a tad too salty for my taste, a problem I didn’t quite know how to address since Chef Suzuki painted soy sauce over each piece of nigiri before serving. It seemed rude to ask for yet another alteration when I’d already asked for no wasabi. Of note was the Hokkaido uni nigiri. The uni itself was already salty, so the addition of salt flakes on top kicked it into the field of extreme saltiness.
That being said, although there was a paper stating “no wasabi” placed in front of me, and Chef Suzuki had a system of placing my nigiri in its own column on his work area, I did receive a nigiri with wasabi in it (the flying fish one). With an effort, I chewed, swallowed, and weakly reported the mistake. From then on, I kept close attention.
I also have to critique the preparation of the fish a bit. While most of the fish was sliced well and had the right texture, the seared nodoguro had an uncut tendon that made swallowing uncomfortable and the anago (cooked) had a bone that took me a bit of effort to retrieve (after mashing it all up thoroughly).
Regardless of how it reads, I did enjoy my sushi! The rice was wonderfully flavored, and the ratio of rice to fish was perfect. All of it was fresh and nothing was too fishy. The ōtoro was extremely high quality, though it was a little too fatty for my liking. I think it would have been excellent seared.
The sendoff
tamago and pickled cucumber daikon and chūtoro hand roll red miso soup roasted green tea ice cream sandwich
The traditional tamago, made with whitefish here, was served with pickled cucumber alongside. I would say that it wasn’t my favorite in terms of texture, but I think it was done pretty well. Could have a been a bit more moist, perhaps.
Finally, there was a pickled daikon, chive, and chūtoro hand roll. This actually happens to be a variation on my mom’s favorite sushi. Every time we do omakase, she asks for a daikon, tuna, and shiso hand roll. The three ingredients are chopped together and made into a roll. It seems to be becoming more common everywhere. Chef Suzuki kept the chūtoro pieces fairly large, so there was a bite to it.
Pickled daikon, chive, and chūtoro hand roll
While it was tasty, I prefer the chopped version because the mixture becomes more homogenous. However, I found this sushi entertaining because it was the first time I saw someone toast seaweed on an induction cooktop. The iron rack that is usually over coals was placed upside down on the portable induction cooktop, and Chef Suzuki toasted each piece by dragging it over the top of the rack. Curious, but certainly less spectacular than the pot of smoking coals that I’m used to seeing countertop at omakase sushi bars.
~physics~
We finished up the meal with a red miso soup containing succulent tiny mushrooms and an ice cream sandwich. The sandwich was composed of a scoop of roasted green tea ice cream, soft mochi, and some red bean paste between two delightfully crunchy, airy rice crackers, shaped with a lip so that no ice cream escaped from the sides when they were pressed together. So functional, so delicious.
Dessert!
Closing notes
While it wasn’t perfect, my experience at Satsuki was overall enjoyable. However, the meal was just a bit off the mark for me in terms of flavors and textures. Nothing egregious, just personal preference.
Although I won’t be returning to the sushi bar anytime soon, I do want to try kaiseki dining at Suzuki and drinks at Three Pillars. Seasonal menus are always enticing. Also, the drinks are supposed to be hangover-free, and I’ve always wanted to witness sorcery.
Menu
bluefin tuna tartar and monkfish liver bonito sashimi salad with yuzu mixed platter: sashimi and cooked foods shima-aji black herring with kelp ink squid flying fish with flying fish roe razor clam kimedai maguro (akami) ōtoro seared nodoguro Hokkaido uni anago [one mystery fish that I forgot to write down] tamago and pickled cucumber daikon and chūtoro hand roll red miso soup roasted green tea ice cream sandwich
Japanese terms
I’m not Japanese, but these are some terms that I’ve heard and used over the years. A lot of them are specific to sushi.
akami lean tuna
anago sea eel
chūtoromedium fatty tuna
kaiseki a traditional multi-course Japanese dinner
kimedai red snapper
maguro bluefin tuna, but if you ask for this at a restaurant without specifying what cut, you’ll get akami
nodoguro blackthroat seaperch
omakase “I’ll leave it up to you.” In dining, a meal consisting of dishes selected by the chef. Typically with an emphasis on sushi.
ōtoro the fattiest part of the tuna
shima-aji striped jack, sometimes called striped horsemackerel
This first post is primarily to introduce the purpose of this blog and my reasons for creating it.
The context
A recent grad (2019), I am currently a software engineer at a small tech company in Manhattan.
A few months ago, I was convinced that it’d be easy to transition to “adult life” in the city. My future looked bright and full (of friends, partying, and great food). Once I got here, however, I realized that I had sorely overhyped my post-college experience.
As a dev, my job hours are usually from about 10:30 AM to 6 PM, but they’re flexible. Most of my friends are consultants, analysts, and traders at firms that require them to be in at 9 AM or even earlier. The result: the friends I could count on to make questionable decisions about late bedtimes and sacrificing sleep in college are now in bed by midnight, no exceptions.
The impetus
Honestly, it might be the birth control I started taking last month, but I’ve been in a slump lately. Classic lack of drive to do anything except for feed myself things that are bad for my body, justified by the mild sadness I’ve been feeling on a daily basis. The worst part is that the unhealthy food just compounds how trash I feel.
Every so often, I experience a spike in what I would describe as reciprocal rejection. It’s the feeling of not being wanted, compounded with the desire to head off that rejection preemptively. It results in a toxic couple of days where I basically stew in my own loneliness and snack on processed foods because I’m too sad to go out.
It got so bad that sometimes I sit on the couch in a state of what can probably be described as catatonia for hours. Not watching anything, no. Just sitting and doing nothing. I decided it was time to re-evaluate.
The problem(s)
The job hours aren’t a big problem, but less overlapping free time means that often, my friends already have plans when I ask them to hang out. This only became more apparent as people settled into New York City and their new jobs.
I have all this free time on my hands and I don’t know what to do with myself. There are only so many days that you can spend binge-watching TV shows. They stop being a treat and turn into a chore (can confirm). Besides, they make me feel so bad because watching them literally serves no purpose (unless you’re watching educational ones).
When my friends aren’t free and I’m craving social interaction, online dating is an option. But I’m not in the habit of leading people on, and cultivating a fake interest in order to fulfill my own selfish desires is unappealing. If only there were ways to meet people organically (this is sarcasm, by the way).
I started making sourdough, as I had been wanting to do for a year or so, but there are only so many people to whom I can feed the results. Plus, giving it all away was (and still is) actually eating up a significant part of my budget. Besides, a loaf of bread or batch of brownies disappears so quickly, with only pictures left behind, and merely posting those on my Instagram story just seems so futile.
tl;dr: I need purpose. My standalone interests are not nutritious or sustainable (see below).
My interests
There are a few interests that I’ve maintained on and off through the years.
Baking. I started off making cookies for my high school bake sales, then graduated to New York cheesecake for birthdays, my signature apple pie, and finally sourdough. Like many people, I used to follow the recipes to the letter. I was a stickler for rules of any caliber. However, as you may know, environment (humidity, temperature) matters a lot in baking. Now, I’m more of an “eh that should work” baker. Sourdough has taught me lots.
Cooking. I split baking off because I think cooking (on the stovetop, generally) is a completely different beast. There is more flexibility in cooking, for starters. Often, I open the spice cabinet when my food is in the pan and make my decisions then. I love to think about what I’m going to cook tomorrow, and it’s a daily personal tragedy for me to realize I can’t cook everything I want to (because I’m one person). This also means my cooking style is something along the lines of “adapt until it’s unrecognizable.” That is, I start off from a recipe and make a ton of changes to it. Occasionally, it’s because I don’t have one of the ingredients. Most of the time, I just want to. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
Eating. I love to try new foods, new cuisines, and new restaurants. This is in conflict with my interest in cooking, unfortunately. I dropped off the radar for the last month or so trying to save money by cooking all meals at home, but I don’t think it’s worth the stagnation I’ve been feeling. I’ll compromise by packing lunch daily, but I think I’ll start exploring the city again for dinner once or twice a week.
Traveling. To be completely honest, this is related to eating. While I love to see new sights, a huge part of traveling is the food. I consider it an integral part of experiencing new cultures and ways of life. However, I do also love beach getaways, horseback tours, scuba diving, and other activity-based vacations.
Writing. This is the kicker- the main reason why I think this blog is a good idea. I used to write fan fiction, but that petered off after I lost my obsession with K-pop. Besides, I primarily used fanfiction as a means to get my writing and ideas across. You might say that I wrote fanfiction because I wasn’t confident that my fiction would garner readers. That also just means I tricked the K-pop mega-fans into reading my work. Now that I’m working, I can justify maintaining a blog that’s my own space, where I can write anything that I want.
The solution
My hypothesis is that interests with no nutritional value can be made nutritious. In less abstract terms, reflection on an activity can make the activity more fulfilling.
Why this should work
I noticed that I felt animated when I talked to people about something I cooked or baked. It was nice to be able to talk about my processes and flavor profile decisions. Sometimes, I lie awake in bed for hours thinking about what to make next. Instead of keeping it all in my head (fail-safe strategy, to say the least), I can document what works, what doesn’t work, and what I’d make again.
Even eating can be made into a mentally nutritious activity. By writing about and reviewing restaurants or culinary experiences, I can provide information for others as well as keep records for myself. This has the added benefit of making me more mindful of what I am eating, which I have a problem with.
Traveling is the best example. I don’t have the best memory, and even trips from last year are hard to remember clearly now. It has always seemed like such a waste to just forget about places I’ve been and sights I’ve seen. I’ve tried on and off to keep travel diaries, but I’ve misplaced them all somewhere or another.
The best part is, now I have a lot to write about. Instead of wracking my brain and trying to dredge up some creativity, I can write about things that I’m already thinking a lot about.
Final thoughts
Theoretically, keeping a blog will solve all my problems. I’m not going to set high expectations in terms of output (both quality and quantity), since this blog is created as a way for me to encourage my own mental health and happiness. I want it to stay a fun activity and not a chore. Therefore, I’m going to think of it as essentially an e-diary, and I’m not going to require myself to post on a fixed schedule.
I understand that means I probably won’t have a large following, and that’s OK. Perhaps some of what I say will be useful or even entertaining to a few people. If not, at least I’ll have something to do.
The name
Cute name, right? It’s smol adventures because I am smol and these are my adventures.
