Hi. I'd like a new job. On Iron Chef.

Wow! Has it really been 2 months since I've shared a glorious meal??? I've enjoyed many a delicious venture since Sushi Damo and I regret not having shared those experiences (I will recount them soon, I promise!). Insane projects at work, general stress and a too-large-to-carry laptop have been problems solved by me kicking my work's butt and inheriting a smaller laptop :D Time to blog my socks off!!

I simply could NOT fail to write about my trip to NYC a few weekends ago. I was told by J to bring an outfit worthy of a 'night on the town' because we were going to celebrate her move across the country. When asked if I wanted to know where we were going, I opted to be surprised; we took the train downtown and walked past Chelsea Market, but no bells were ringing. In fact, even after seeing the entry-way - a red, traditional noren hanging from large arched opening on a very industrial-looking building-face - I was unsure where we were. (Are we at NYC's Sushi Damo? I don't remember it being by Chelsea Pier.)

Finally, we push past the traditional curtain and a glass wall slides open. There, on the glass panel was one word. Morimoto. I can't describe the excitement that followed. I swooned and grabbed J's arm, "NO WAY! REALLY?!?!" I bounced up and down. J was pleased with my reaction, my face ached from the copious smiling.

The restaurant's architecture transports you to a modern reef. Filled water bottles, arranged with bottoms facing out are back-lit with blue light, covered walls mimicking sun through clear water and looking up at the tent-like, draped-fiber-glass roof is reminiscent of swimming beneath breaking waves. My favorite part was the "coral" ... exposed, square concrete piers and columns in ocean-clay gray halted before reaching the waves. (Yes, I work in construction and concrete has a special place in my heart, but the way they left the form-tie holes unfilled just left me giddy!)

We were early for our reservation (go figure, the 2 train ran express on a Saturday), so we followed the hostess' suggestion to enjoy a drink downstairs. Like a hidden cave in the reef, the bare concrete and glass staircase descended into a bar/lounge where the back-lit bottles were arranged vertically (like falling water) on one wall and another was clad in boat cabin-like wood. The space was lit like a glowing bedroom at-sea. It was beautiful and intimate. The seating reminded me of the marlin-fishing chairs you see on the back of boats.

We settled on two cocktails: I chose the Morimotini, J chose the White Lily. Though I have never liked martinis, I trusted Morimoto on his namesake combination of sake, wasabi-infused vodka and cucumber. It was like drinking really crisp and clean water (very zen, very strong and perfect because I will drink a fruity drink WAY too quickly). The White Lily's predominant flavor was yuzu (paired with vodka) - I mean, seriously, how can you go wrong? It was tart, refreshing and delicious.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom. (Are you ready for this? Yes, here comes two whole paragraphs about the bathroom.) So, I stand like an idiot at the bathroom door. I push. I pull. I wait. A guy walks into the men's room behind me, sliding the door open. I get it. The completely matte white bathroom has floor-to-ceiling walls at the stalls and is very dimly lit. I actually felt slightly claustrophobic until I walked into the first stall and saw a pristine pink cherry blossom tree backed by an infinity mirror behind the toilet. I was thrilled!! (I love cherry blossoms!) I ran out to J and told her to come check out the bathroom with me. She said she'd wait at the table until I was done.

I sighed, said "fine" and walked [tail between my legs] back to the bathroom. I opened the door (correctly this time) and entered the stall again. Cherry blossoms couldn't compare to what I experienced next. Not only did the seemingly-plain white toilet open for me upon entry, but it had a perfectly heated seat. There was a silver menu on the wall with ALL SORTS of options: "Back Cleanse", "Front Cleanse", "Pressure", "Position" (with arrows), "Oscillating", "Pulsating", "Dry", "Stop". My jaw dropped open. I heard a muffled giggle in the stall next door. Too nervous to touch anything I ran back out to the table. "J, GO TO THE BATHROOM. NOW." She went and came back a few minutes later, eyes and mouth open wide, gesturing "OH MY GOD." (I KNOW, RIGHT???) The host who was ready to take us to our table questioned us, "did you just come from the bathroom?" Uh. Ya. He laughed and boasted, "it's Zagat rated." Excuse me?? Zagat rates bathrooms?? Who knew?

SIDE NOTE/TMI: It took me two more bathroom trips to work up the courage to press a button. I pressed a few buttons, actually.... no words. All I can say is that I was so startled that I jumped up - a gentle swirling stream of warm water arced and splashed to the floor in front of me.

OK. Sorry ... back to the food.

We were seated at a communal table which can be a pleasant thing if you have interesting people next to you to talk to and are in the mood to chat. We, luckily did and were. We compared all of our dishes with the two older couples next to us throughout dinner. They had children our age and got a kick out of our food reviews.

J and I agreed that this just didn't seem the place to order sushi; avid fans of Iron Chef, we wanted to see what else Chef Masaharu Morimoto had to offer us. We started looking over the appetizers, took advice from our neighbors and our waiter and finally decided on the Tuna Pizza and Kobe Beef Carpaccio. We also agreed that, if we were at Morimoto's restaurant, we must drink his beer. So, we also ordered a bottle of both the Morimoto Soba Ale and the Black Obi Soba Ale. Both are made from buckwheat and brewed by Rogue Ales (an awesome craft beer brewery from Oregon); the Black Obi is darker and more nutty with a toasted flavor, but is surprisingly light - it was our definite favorite.

Before we were brought our first course, our [almost too] efficient waiter brought out a starter of flash-fried whole sardines with a lime wedge. They were awesome, heads, tails and all! Then the Kobe came. It was my first time having the much-talked-about beef, and the texture was incredible - soft, but rich and unlike any cut or preparation I had ever had. The "carpaccio" was drizzled with hot sesame oil which cooked the outside of the meat and was topped with a yuzu soy, ginger and garlic. Divine. My concerns about the Tuna Pizza falling-short of my high expectations were forgotten after my fist bite of the sashimi tuna-topped tortilla with anchovy aioli drizzle, olives and spicy jalapenos. Super fresh, and with a kick!

It was fun seeing our neighbor's appetizers, too. Their Toro Tartare was served packed in a small, shallow, rectangular dish, resting on a large bowl of shaved ice decorated to look like a beach scene. Each person was provided with a little "shovel" in which to sample the tartare and the various accompaniments. The plating of each dish really did make you feel like you were judging a battle on Iron Chef. Like the title of this entry, I would quit my job in a second to take a seat at that table.

For dinner, we decided against the $80 16oz. Wagyu NY Strip and the $20/oz. Japanese Kobe (... if only we were rich.) My sea bass was perfectly cooked, meaty, sweet and savory. Coated in a miso-based sauce, the generous fillet lay over Japanese eggplant and avocado tempura (dense and awesome!). There was also a tofu-like element that was delicious ... I now know what I did not know then: "sweet sake kasu" is what is left at the bottom of the barrel during sake's fermentation process. How cool!! I would have paid more attention to it's texture had I ventured to ask.

J went for the Surf & Turf: "kobe filet & hamachi ribbons, herbed potatoes, crushed citrus & avocado (prepared tableside)". The kobe was prepared simply and well - the same fantastic texture as earlier. The hamachi was truly fantastic. What a difference really fresh, well-cut sashimi makes in the flavor and texture of a fish! The strips were tossed with avocado and lime. We couldn't pinpoint the herb in the purple fingerling potatoes, I did love it for it's uniqueness, though.

I think there's a rule somewhere that someone once said that reads something like, "if you spend a lot of money on a really nice dinner, you are required to have dessert." 10-4, captain. We had a hard time deciding on one to share. Warm chocolate cake with whiskey caramel? Dark chocolate fondant with coffee creme? (Can you tell I was hinting towards a chocolate dish?) Caramel cinnamon chiboust? Chocolate-hazelnut mousse cake w/ pomegranate gelee?

Well, we ended up going with what must have been the most fabulous tasting dessert on the menu: Blood orange panna cotta with kuzukiri noodles and satsuma mandarin sorbet. Out comes a traditional miso soup bowl. The waiter opens the lid to reveal the tender, jelly-like noodles nested under the satsuma sorbet. The panna cotta was hidden under a thin layer of blood orange gelee the color of the bowl, only distinguishable as something more than the inside of the lid by a few flecks of edible gold. It was one of the smoothest and most rich dairy desserts I have ever had. We sighed after every bite. The weight of the cream was perfectly countered by the cool sorbet and fruity, gelatinous noodles. It was just glorious.

What was also awesome, is that my neighbors satisfied my chocolate craving by offering me a bite of their decadent warm chocolate cake. *drool*

In closing, if you want to be an Iron Chef judge, go to Morimoto - it's basically the same!!!

How Weekends Should Always Be: Part 3, Omakase

Breakfast tasted great, lunch was amazing ... but the reservation for dinner at Sushi Damo last Saturday night was to be the culinary highlight of the weekend. The restaurant has been written up all over the place in the past month, so I checked out the website and found something SUPER exciting:

OMAKASE: "A Japanese word meaning "entrust" or "protect," Omakase puts your culinary experience in the hands of Executive Chef, Takashi Okamura. Created for the most discerning and discriminating tastes, each course is meticulously created and orchestrated."

How exciting does that sound???? It turned out to be the most interesting/thought-provoking culinary adventure I've yet had the pleasure of experiencing.

J and I arrived at the trendy Rockville restaurant at 7:30pm. Kaskade, Tosca and the like were playing over the sound system. The lighting was great, the atmosphere very "zen". Low leather armchairs grouped around low tables were perfect for sushi and cocktails with friends or co-workers after a week of work (ok, maybe not my co-workers - it was a little too classy for our dirty construction jeans and humor, heh.) I loved that J helped contribute to my observations with her own critique of the atmosphere. We agreed that the dark wood furniture and ceiling fixtures provided clean lines. The white walls and spring green accents were also fitting. She did point out, however, that there was something missing - a water fixture, she suggested - something blue ... something to balance the Feng Shui. I think she was right. She also noticed that after the 7-or-so chill songs that we enjoyed (5 of which I think she owns), the tracks repeated.

As it turns out, the meal was a big challenge for me. I had thought that I was excited and ready for the chef to present me with whatever he willed. Turns out, however, that I became distracted by the fact that I didn't know how many courses I was going to be served, or what culinary delights I had to look forward to. I felt vulnerable without a descriptive menu that would let me imagine what would be on my plate next. Looking back, the whole concept of "omakase" gives me pleasantly creepy chills; at the time, I found it hard to focus on how good the food in front of me was.

I want to get the thoughts I had about dinner during dinner out of the way, so I'm going to mention our waitress. When she brought the first plate out, looked at it questioningly and announced it as "fried fish balls" I couldn't help but wonder where the "meticulously orchestrated" part of the package was. It was as if she couldn't remember what the chef had prepared for us. Having little idea of what we were being served made the courses even more frustrating for me!! I wanted her to be as excited/proud about what the chef had prepared as I imagined the chef must be. I should have been relying on the tastes and smells and presentation of the food in front of me to spur the excitement I was hoping for. I guess I think too much because J didn't seem to have a problem enjoying those things for what they were :)

The reality of "how" I enjoy food was revealing itself as more about the politics surrounding good food, not the food itself - a saddening realization. I don't think I was able to appreciate the quality of the food we had enjoyed until my reflections since the ride home. We finally counted how many courses we had eaten once we had gotten into my car around 10:45pm ... 8 courses ... or was it 9? Oh wait, we forgot one! It was 10. Yes. The meal was 10 courses long.

SIDENOTE: With the exception of two courses, I could not find similar dishes on the restaurant's general menu. That makes our menu pretty special, I think.

Course #1 - Fried "Fish Balls": I was a pleasantly surprised at how well you could still distinguish the taste and texture of the white fish in the five deep-fried 1" balls. The spiced and simple mayo drizzles on the plate were simple, but well-paired condiments.

#2 - "Fish and Sauce": While we had no idea what type of fish we were eating, the delicate fillet was steamed with a slice of lemon and a shiso leaf in foil that was shaped to resemble a swan. The foil swan was "drinking" from a little cup filled with a soy sauce-based liquid, accented by tart yuzu. The sauce was so very good that we both drank what we had left after the fish straight from the cup. Fantastic.

#3 - I'll call this one "Mussels and Amazingness", as this was one of my favorite dishes. Small mussels were cooked in a broth that was the very definition of "umami". I cannot describe the broth, except to say that it was a rich, savory stock that likely contained some miso. Each sip was as flavorful as the first.

#4 - "Chicken with Ginger and Peach Liquor": Thinking of this dish still gets be excited. The flavor combination was just so unique to me, but the tastes worked together so well. A simple pile of stewed, shredded chicken thigh was doused in a peach liquor sauce and topped with fresh ginger. I typically dislike peach-flavored foods (I love the fruit), but I sopped up as much of the clear sauce as I could. (I think that the extra fat in the thighs really enhanced the sauce.)

#5 - "Shrimp Rice-Tempura": Three VERY large shrimp were dipped in a batter of crunchy rice and fried. The outer crunch gave way to perfectly moist meat. The only accompaniment to this dish was a Japaenese sea salt infused with matcha. While its extreme saltiness was a welcome addition to the tempura-like shrimp, we did not catch the green tea flavor.

#6 - "Orange Roughy & Mountain Peach": This subtly-seasoned fillet of perfectly-grilled Orange Roughy was one of J's favorite dishes. It was marinated in a soy-sake sauce and was served with a Yamamomo (a Japanese mountain peach.) This fruit is about the size of a large cherry and has a texture similar to a hard strawberry (with a large pit). The taste was incredibly unique - tart and sour, acting as a tasty palette-cleanser.

#7 - "Filet and Mushrooms": Another perfectly-grilled course, this one being a small filet mignon in a rich sauce of thinly-sliced mushrooms.

#8 - "Duck and Kiwi": No, medium-rare slices of duck under a drizzle of a very sweet kiwi sauce is not a combination I would have ever thought to create, but it proved incredibly successful. The new taste made me smile a bit ridiculously. How clever you are, chef!

#9 - "Tokyo Rose & Ocean Blue": Our special Japanese experience just wouldn't have been complete without this course; we had been waiting for a sushi course all night, and it came at just the right time. These rolls were incredible, one with blue crab meat, the other with tuna. The warm sauces on top really made them outstanding.

[Around this time we switched from our bottles of Kirin to try a Lychee Sakitini that was pleasantly refreshing and not too sweet.]

#10 - "Dessert": It was finally time for dessert and the dessert was wonderful. Small slices of house-made, green tea cheesecake were stacked on a plate covered in rich caramel and chocolate drizzles. The cheesecake was very lightly textured, but rich in flavor. I really enjoyed the heart-shaped filled chocolates that accompanied the dish.

The food at Sushi Damo was fantastic, the experience unique. (For the price, I would have loved a more knowledgeable waitress.) Above the wonderfully cooked proteins, the chef was a master of sauces and in most cases we would have gladly licked what was left off the bottoms of our plates. The meal has forced me to think hard about how I approach my culinary adventures. As for adventures to come? This will my last splurge for a while. Thank goodness there are plenty of free tastings and recommended cheap-eats out there!

How Weekends Should Always Be: Part 2, Pairing 'Paringa'

I thought I should finally comment on a related joy of mine - cooking. I haven't had an exemplary opportunity to recount any of my culinary successes/experiments until now: Last Saturday (after a particularly delicious and [again] poorly serviced breakfast of Panettone French Toast and custom Italian omelettes at Domaso Trattoria), I tasked myself with planning J and myself a lunch to pair with the sparkling red Shiraz 'Paringa' that I had purchased at Domasoteca's February 10th Chocolate and Wine tasting.

The gentleman who had run the tasting recommended pairing the bold, chilled, wine with a grilled steak or duck salad. I did a bit of research and came across a recipe for a Grilled Duck, Pear, Almond and Pomegranate Salad. I wanted to make the meal even more interesting by also offering small tasting sides, so I visited the cheese counter at Whole Foods to look for a Spanish cheese to compliment the sherry vinegar-based dressing. I was given tastes of two different cheeses: a Spanish brandy-soaked cheese, and a 'raw-milk' Manchego. The Manchego was phenomenal - strong and nutty (I should really work on my cheese-related vocabulary) and it was suggested to me that I pick up some membrillo (a quince paste that is traditionally served with Manchego) as well.

SIDENOTE: I really enjoy asking food-service personnel their thoughts on the food/drink they sell/serve (something that has become easier for me to do as I've gotten older). Who doesn't like talking about good food/wine that they are particularly knowledgeable about? They get to share their passion and I get to learn! Win-win!

The best part of cooking a good meal for a friend, is cooking the meal with a friend who also enjoys cooking - J prepared the dressing while I grilled the duck for the salad. While she finished chopping and arranging the veggies and fruit, I prepared the side "tasting" presentation - a cutting board topped with the membrillo, Manchego and a small dish of 40% cocoa chocolate squares. We toasted and tasted the wine. On its own, the first sip only produced an "it's interesting" response.

We found, however, that the wine did a phenomenal job of tying all of the meal's components together. The strong cheese was balanced by the sweet membrillo, and both seemed even more 'meant for each other' as the ripe, dark berry/plum flavors of the bubbly wine swept them off your tongue. The Shiraz's strong structure held perfectly against the slightly-vinegared duck and its strong fruits enhanced the pomegranate-infused vinaigrette. (I should also add that the recipe itself is wonderful - shallots adding the most memorable flavor.) We ended the meal with the 40% cocoa chocolate squares - the most complimentary cocoa-percentage that we paired with Paringa at Domasoteca's tasting. We easily and happily finished the bottle [while watching Terminator 2 on TV]. :D

How Weekends Should Always Be: Part 1, Chocolate Caliente

Last weekend I 'ran' a marathon of fantastic food. An endurance challenge that, like actual running, was made even more enjoyable - appreciated for its length and more humorously mused over - by the presence of a fellow participant: My best friend was visiting from NY for the weekend and I had planned for us to visit an assortment of food destinations that I had been meaning to share/try. My friend (whom I shall refer to as "J" only because it makes me giggle to not use her full name - as if this were a top secret document of utmost importance) and I have shared many a good dish and bottle (or 2, or more) of wine. From our visits to small, grilled-llama-serving homes in Argentina to Muppet-filled German bars in NYC to playing "guess the wine" with Restaurant Eve's sommelier, I know she'll always be up for whatever I can find!

We kicked off the weekend by meeting another friend for dinner at Oyamel. While I love Mexican food, I have to be honest and say that I wasn't particularly interested in this restaurant (which I walk past on my way to work) until I saw the Washingtonian's review of their spiced hot chocolate. As raving fans of Haagen Dazs' Mayan Chocolate ice cream, I thought J and I should most definitely review the hot chocolate ourselves.

The restaurant itself is fun and beautiful. The different levels between the main entrance/bar, lower seating area and back room give the relatively small space an open feel (even with the hanging butterfly mobiles, arched corridor-like ceiling in front of the bar and glass partitions to the back room). Various hues of orange and dramatic candelabras dripping with melted max, give the Day of the Dead theme a warm spotlight in front of the windowed store front.
(I particularly loved the shadow-box tile in the unisex bathroom - thanks to the blogger who had a picture for me to share.)

Oyamel's menu consists mostly of antojitos, or 'small plates'. Being particularly hungry, J and I had already bookmarked an assortment of 5 plates that we wanted to try when our on-time friend arrived. We all agreed on our choices, ordered the food and some drinks. Being at a Mexican restaurant that offered more types of tequila than I'd ever seen, the list of tequila concoctions looked amazing. I went with our waitress' recommendation: the Oyamel Pomegranate Margarita w/ pomegranate, agave nectar, Cointreau, Jose Cuervo, and lime. The best part of the nicely shaken drink was the "salt air" - a thick layer of salty foam floating on top. (Totally made me think of Marcel and his concoctions on Top Chef.) J went with the "Old Fashion" cocktail. A twist on the traditional, Oyamel's is made with Siembra Azul Reposado, pomegranate, mango, orange bitters and agave. Both were fantastic.

Without question, we started our meal with the table-side preparation of guacamole. The traditional ingredients were super fresh and chunky. Green tomatillo, serrano chili and crumbled queso fresco were delicious additions. We were very sad when our chips could no longer wipe more green deliciousness from the bottom of the stone bowl.

From there we enjoyed a red snapper ceviche, steamed mussels in a delicious tequila-based sauce, a grilled skirt steak with guajillo chili and crushed peanuts, and albóndigas (meatballs) in chipotle sauce with crumbled ‘double cream’ cheese and cilantro. The snapper gave the ceviche a rich texture, the mussels were small, tender and their sauce was made sweeter by shaved onions, the skirt steak was perfectly cooked and seasoned, and the meatballs were well-marbled and very flavorful. Over all of these wonderful dishes, however, my favorite was the "Sopes de Frijol Con Hoja de Aguacate": Traditional corn flour cake topped with refried black beans, ground avocado leaf, queso fresco cheese and a salsa negra of chipotle chiles and piloncillo sugar. The dense texture of the small round cakes gave the slightly-sweet, moist topping a perfect platform. The touch of sugar balanced and enhanced the smokiness of the chipotle and the 'brightness' of the cheese. I love sharing small plates! You have the opportunity to try a whole assortment of delicious dishes.

For dessert, I had only one thing on my mind - Chocolate Caliente. The waitress brought out a clay pitcher of hot milk and a small bag of the secret chocolate mix (cocoa, sugar, cinnamon, vanilla beans and cloves). She used an interesting wooden utensil to incorporate the powered mix: the plunger/stave/dash-like instrument had a hollow carved base and ornate rings that swirled the milk when rolled between your palms. We all "ahhh-ed" at the delicious smell of the cocoa mix and the warm milk as the prepared drink was poured into our cups. It was just so delicious! The resulting beverage didn't taste like a powder had been mixed into it at all. It was perfectly blended, rich and fragrant (but not overpowering). It was like a more comforting, less-chocolate-y version of Mayan Chocolate ice cream.

J's and my hot chocolate verdict? Definitely go have some!