An Effing Foodie

Sushi is As Sushi Does: Coeds Cram Panda Rolls into Sushi Chef Gender Gap

Nadeshico Sushi restaurant in Tokyo is filling a long-standing gender gap with panda bear and frog face maki, crafted by the first-ever all female sushi chef lineup (WSJ, via VV).

Sort of. They get the guys to do all the icky stuff.

The whole article's a real leg-slapper, but can be best summed up with this gem of a title:  

Hot Women Serving Cold Fish Make for Raw Feelings in Tokyo: Japan's First Sushi Restaurant Staffed by Female Chefs Has Traditionalists Carping.

Google "hot women", "cold fish", "raw feelings in Tokyo" and "first sushi" with your Safe Search turned off. I double dog dare you. I carp you.

In fact, skip ALL of that and just search "Nadeshico", the restaurant's namesake (translates literally to "ideal woman"). NSFW.

The centuries-old official line regarding gender disparity in sushi chefdom is that women have naturally warmer hands than men, which is detrimental to the handling of spanking-fresh raw fish. On top of that, wimmen are covered in girly sh*t, like perfume and cosmetics, that could effect the purity of the fish.

Things that also effect the purity of fish: Being black, white, Latin, non-Japanese Asian or any mix thereof. They also hate kittens, gays, big people, little people, cripples, vampires, zombies, the homeless and Bieber fans. Oh, and chicks over 25:

Kazuya Nishikiori, the middle-aged owner of Nadeshico, says he wanted to create a new model for working women in Japan. But he later explains he'll only hire women who are between the ages of 18 and 25 to work behind the counter. "After all, our slogan is 'fresh and kawaii,"' he explains, invoking the ubiquitous word for "cute." "If someone wanted to work here and was 30, I'd put her in the back."  [WSJ]

This culinary tour de force is "one floor below the massage parlor that promises 'total relaxation'" in the Akihabara district, the tech geek wonderland rife with maid cafes and pillow girlfriends.

On the upside, if the fish-eating pervs are all in one spot, they'll be easier to avoid.

People, for the love of God, don't blame pandas. Or cosplay. They can be used for the forces of good.

Toys for Tw@ts: Taste in a Tube!

Photo: JANE MINGAY

Apparently, the folks across the pond have resorted to packing all the hopes and dreams of savory taste into squirty tubes.

With the advent of Taste No. 5 Umami Paste, you too can come to rely on a single product to add flavor to...well, everything, for the low-low price of £2.99 a tube at Waitrose!  

A few days ago I added a new ingredient to the children's supper, only to witness them falling upon the dish like labradors – to the point of licking their plates and the pan clean. The ingredient was fermented red bean curd, a vile-looking, liver-coloured paste that oozed a thin liquid with an obnoxious, ripe aroma...

Takin' Back Bitch, Gender or Kitchen Notwithstanding

I'll start off with my hands up: I'm not married, don't have kids, and therefore do not have any logged hours with which to provide insight on gender-based roles and balance in a functioning marriage.

Maybe that's why I was so puzzled when I read Hanna Rosin's article, The Rise of the Kitchen Bitch.  (And yet MORE puzzled upon hearing about a new magazine in Germany angled specifically at Man-Foodies, titled: BEEF! EmPHAsis theirs.)

Kitchen gender politics have always been contentious and highly subjective.  A person's place in a kitchen has got zilch to do with gender roles.  It's all about personality.  Whether you're a wizened Punjabi matriarch or a Tennessee pitmaster, if you're a Type-A with any kind of confidence and know-now, you're going to dominate a kitchen.  Period. 

If you're in a long-term relationship/marriage, SOMEone is going to be in the kitchen more than the other.  It's as unkind and counterproductive to call your husband a bitch for ruling the kitchen as it would be if he stormed in and demanded a hot dinner. 

Rosin seems to be saying that home kitchen dominatrix is a pre-established role that women have been robbed of--that if her husband was the kitchen beta and she the alpha, he would have to take her potato-peeling nitpicking into stride, as this is her domain. 

On Brits, Baboons, and Eating Cartoons

I'll admit that the reason I try to keep up with a few food blogs in the UK is because...well...the cultural divide makes some of the writing and food concerns (like arguing over who invented oatmeal, or worrying about the demise of British curry) HI-larious to me.

(Oh, stop.  I'm sure watching fat Americans endlessly dissecting FN hamburgers and deep-fat-frying all-but-babies is equally diverting to them.)

To wit:

[A.A. Gill has] really gone and done it this time, having started a recent review with, “I shot a baboon in Africa, last Wednesday, just after lunch. Shot it dead.”

Gill goes on to explain that he was in Africa wearing “the sort of hat that just makes you ache to kill stuff” when a fellow hunter asked “Why don’t we shoot a baboon?” With the help of a telescopic lens, Gill took aim at one 250 feet away and “a soft-nosed .357 blew his lungs out.” Gill admits he had no excuse for becoming a “recreational primate killer,” since “baboon isn’t good to eat, unless you’re a leopard” — so why did he do it?

I wanted to get a sense of what it might be like to kill someone, a stranger. You see it in all those films: guns and bodies, barely a close-up of reflection or doubt. What does it really feel like to shoot someone, or someone’s close relative?

Gill got maudlin when he examined his kill (“when you stare into the magnifying glass at a profundity, it’s the prosaic and pitiful that’s reflected back”), but it goes without saying that the review stirred up even more of a fuss in the U.K... (via Grub Street)

I know this makes light of a serious moral and philosophical debate worth having; most people would rather not mull over the strange and arbitrary boundaries that justify what makes which animals acceptable food from culture to culture. 

But...I couldn't stop thinking of this:

What the World Eats: The Nonburger of Samtaeseong Diner (Pyongyang), Indoor Rain at Mercado San Miguel (Madrid), Spam Fries at Wild Oats (Singapore)

It's a red-letter day at Samtaeseong Diner, Pyongyang, where North Koreans have been granted the privilege to blow half a day's salary on an All-American Hamburger.

So long as you don't use the word "American".

Or "Hamburger".

Instead, patrons of the Samtaeseong diner, which opened in Pyongyang last month, have to order a suspiciously similar "minced beef with bread".

The isolated Communist state has long banned what it calls Western or US "imperialist influences" on its people. But there was only so long it could hold out against the temptations of fast food. (Telegraph)

Hold out against the evils of imperialist fast food?  We understand.  It lacks the cleansing totalitarian virtue of tree bark and grass.

Silver lining: All the unbranded fascist minced meatpucks come draped in complimentary kimchee!  Woohoo!

                                    *        *        *

Half a world and happier circumstances away sits Mercado San Miguel, the gorgeous, newly remodeled marketplace in Madrid.  Originally built in 1916, this wrought-iron palace to food boasts the spoils you'd expect of Spain: Technicolor produce, barely-dead meats and seafood, cheese aplenty, bakeries, tapas counters.

From Druidabruxux on Flickr

This gustatory sensory overload is trimmed with urban twists and comforts--a kitchy cookbook store, an oyster and champagne bar, and even 2 AM closing times on Fridays and Saturdays. 

There's even a vegetable mister for people: "In a nod to living green, instead of air-conditioning, the air is infused with water droplets; every few minutes shoppers are bathed in a blast of micro-rain." (NYT Travel)

                                    *        *        *

And last, but not least...a topic close to my Hawaiian Ex-Pat heart...Spam.

Not just Spam...but Spam FRIES.

Yup, luncheon meat chopped up into long skinny fries, fried until they’re crispy on the outside, and served with one or more dips. Disgustingly, sinfully, ridiculously good. I had these with some friends one night over drinks at Wild Oats, the bar owned and run by Willin Low, and I just about fell off my chair. (Chubby Hubby)

<Wiping the corners of my eyes, speechless.>

Hats off to Willin Low, luncheon meat visionary!

Amanda Hesser Points Accusatory Rolling Pin at Michelle Obama, Needs to Take Big Step Back

A lot has been made of Michelle Obama's organic vegetable garden at the White House.  Big-eyed, righteous foodies are all a-twitter about how the Obamas will usher in a new era of enlightened eating, eager to use the first family as a springboard for fantastic, hazily-formed food ethics.

So when I read Amanda Hesser's Op-Ed this morning in the NYT, passively cajoling our First Lady to get back in the kitchen, I wasn't overly surprised.  But I was most certainly irritated.

I do agree with the Hesser's basic message; people SHOULD be cooking more--particularly parents--to instill healthier eating habits, manners, family values and culture into themselves and their children.  Absolutely!

But, take a BIG step back...did a cooking blogger, a mega-liberal food columnist from the NYT, just tell our First Lady that she should pretend that she cooks, for the good of our children???

FOR PHUCK'S SAKE.

Do people WANT to be lied to?  How in the HELL can a First Lady (and before that, the wife of a prominent politician) be expected to be a domestic goddess? 

On the campaign trail, when Cindy McCain was asked what her favorite recipes were, her asinine interns forged "McCain Family Recipes" right off the Food Network website. Ya know why?  Because beer heiresses don't FN cook. 

Apparently, that's not what liberals OR conservatives want to hear.

I'd much rather hear that Michelle just doesn't have the inclination to cook than be spoon-fed some nonsense about how someone with a 12-hour day MAGICALLY produces a gourmet meal for her two kids and her husband, the President of the United States.

Hesser presents an unrealistic, misguided standard to hold mid-recession American families to.  More than ever, parents are working long hours to put food on the table at all--many of them single parents.  Will you judge them for using packaged greens, and jarred sauces?  Shouldn't you be glad that a meal is being prepared at all, and eaten in concert? 

Dinner in a Twitter: Whole Wheat Mentaiko Spaghetti with Green Beans, Scallions and Egg

Apparently, Twitter is the new bacon.

Attention from the NY Times marks the beginning of the end for any hot fringe-trend, but this cynic was impressed by Lawrence Downes’ endearing article on Twitter recipes.  His effusive exposition of Maureen Evans’ super-spare recipe realm was a welcome tweak on the nose for bored by-the-book cooks and blathering foodbloggers (cough) alike.

Evans' Twitcipes are subtly complex and sophisticated—in 140-character bursts, she makes clear that she’s well-traveled, kitchen-confident, but not cocky.  She’s got no bread handicap (home cook hierarchy is arguably based on the successful domination of yeast), does multi-culti sweets AND savories, and could get a willing participant out of a mac-n-cheese rut quicker than Mark Bittman can warm up.

Downes' headlong energy and Evans' encapsulated charms were downright inspiring. So without further ado, I present to you my Twitcipe debut*:

MentaikoPasta: Boil 1srving WWspghti&7-min egg. Blanch 1hndful grnbeans(cut1"). Slice egg(1/4s)&toss all w/1pckt sauce +slicedscallion&nori.

Oh c’mon.  Don’t act all surprised.  OF COURSE it’s going to have a key ingredient that most of you will find narsty—some of you because mentaiko = pollock/cod roe, others because it’s processed convenience food, and still others because it's Japanese convenience food (hooray, Kewpie!), and therefore uber-unlocal.  All of you can suck it. 

I love mentaiko and tarako in their raw, unadulterated forms...which tend to spoil before I can finish them.  Squeeze-packets of shelf-stable stuff is what I like to keep around for rainy days.  If you want the genuine article, here's a legit recipe from the far classier Chubby Hubby.

While I may lack the understated grace and worldliness of Ms. Evans, I do not lack a nutritive, unami-rich dindin.  Cheers!

*Nope, I don’t have a Twitter account.  I just thought this would be funsies**.

**You know what else is funsies? Watching Maureen "Snarkypants" Dowd get TAKEN DOWN while trying to takedown the founders of Twitter.  This made my day:

[M. Dowd, NYT]: If you were out with a girl and she started twittering about it in the middle, would that be a deal-breaker or a turn-on?
[B. Stone, Twitter founder] (dryly): In the middle of what?

Hot Trends: Hospitality and Culinary Skills! (GASP!)

Recession-Proof: $6.50 @ Pam Real Thai

After weeding through the predictably a*sinine pile of beginning-of-year food trend predictions, the EF hath birthed up a few of her own!  Ready?

Restaurants and restaurant staff, desperate not to get sh*t-canned, will start treating guests with attentive respect.  They will smile, become efficient and courteous with seating and reservations, take a genuine interest in the enjoyment of your now-more-reasonably-priced meal, and will overall behave in a way that will encourage you to come back.

Novel, right? 

La Bruni and Epicurious beat me to it, sans irony.  Which scares the poop out of me.  Those who categorize basic courtesy and value as trends can go f*ck themselves for lowering the bar for the rest of us.

EF goes on to predict that the "trend" will trickle into the back-of-house, where spoiled, whiny cheflings who used to have budgets for hydroponic microherbs, sous-vide Jacuzzis and chickens fed only with grains pooped by the pope will be forced to do what their less-appointed grannies have been doing all their lives.   Cook. 

Do. Not. Politicize. Plate Lunch. DO NOT EFFING POLITICIZE PLATE LUNCH!!!!!!

Lemme preface this rant by saying--I'm glad Obama won.  I am!  I'm absolutely tickled we both grew up in the same place, eating the same food.

I like Obama.

I like plate lunch.

I like that people will get a chance to read about plate lunch.

But why, dear Lord WHY, is the plate lunch being politicized?

It's OVER people!  The man was elected!!! Can we STOP using the man's popularity to push every little thing???  WHY are there journalists scratching their heads, musing that "It all seems like odd fare for a man as bookmark-thin as Mr. Obama, who seems to treasure his treadmill"???

MAYbe it's just as simple as he said: He grew up eating this, and that's why he likes it.  End of story.

When you're in Philly, you get a cheesesteak.

When you're in NYC, you get a pastrami sandwich, a bagel with a schmear, and a proper slice.

When you get drunk in Rochester, NY, you get a Garbage Plate.

And when you're in Hawaii, you get a plate lunch, every time you can.

I Heart Food Idioms: Okoge!

What's got two thumbs,
hangs out with mostly gays,
and makes Japanese people think of crusty rice?

That's right!

<--- C'est MOI!

John Youngsun Park, a designer of video games in the San Francisco Bay Area, blasts the heat on his Sanyo [rice cooker] to make noo roong ji, the toasted crust of rice that forms at the bottom of the traditional Korean stone rice pot...

“People love that toasted-rice taste,” he said. “It’s even a flavor of ice cream in Seoul.” (Japanese cooks, however, consider toasted rice overcooked and highly undesirable. The unwanted crust left stuck to the bottom of the rice cooker is called okoge — the same word used as slang for a single woman who spends a lot of time with gay men.)
-JULIA MOSKIN, NYT

Yep. One country's Häagen-Dazs® is another country's fruit fly.