a little twist on soba

After an inspirational trip to Uwajimaya (which totally lived up to the hype), I tried a quick and easy flavor combination for today: Warm soba soaked in Shirakiku Tsuyu, served with red bell pepper, a gently poached quail egg and wasabi tobiko. In this dish, I wanted to see if two different types of eggs could be matched to unify fundamentally different, but (hopefully) complementary, expressions.


Having the wasabi infused in tobiko instead of dissolved directly in the tsuyu kept the familiar flavor, but as a distinct, separate component -- with that fantastic little "pop" factor. The yolk of the quail egg coated the soba to add a smooth dimensional depth and roundness to the texture and flavor. Who knew wasabi and egg yolk would pair so nicely?

In search of comfort food on a cold night

Once, someone asked me what I would eat if I had only one last meal. When presented with that question, most people gravitate to comfort foods from their childhood... and for good reason. Those distinct memories of home-cooked meals we grew up with have an unparalleled significance embedded in that part of our brains where recollection and emotional attachment intersect.

Oddly though, the meal I picked out was coq au vin... because I have an equally distinct food memory competing for my rapt attention. I first heard the phrase "coq au vin" back during first-year french class in high school. I remember wondering what it tasted like, what it smelled like... but French bistro food wasn't exactly the most common thing for an Asian American kid in San Jose, CA back in 1990.

Several years later, I found myslf visiting Lyon, France and dining in a nondescript casual bistro down a secluded, cobblestone back alley. The only think I recognized on the menu was coq au vin, so I ordered it... and it was one of the most incredible taste sensations I'd ever experienced. The phenomenal depth of flavor, encased in an impossibly decadent brown braising reduction studded with lardons, and the meat of the rooster falling off the bone... it was even better than I had ever dreamed. Ever since that day, I've been a sucker for coq au vin, like the fantastic version at Bistro Jeanty... although I'll admit I like to have it with a side of pommes frites rather than the more traditional side of egg noodles.


So tonight, beginning my second week of being in Seattle -- and with the temperatures dipping below 40 degrees -- I was in need of some comfort food; coq au vin, to be precise. There'll be many ventures to find my favorite French bistro in Seattle, and tonight brought a solid first entry: the casual and very well-priced Voila Bistrot in Madison Valley.


Voila is a cozy neighborhood restaurant with a small, friendly staff happy to chat about Seattle with this California transplant. Dinner was a convergence of some of my "comfort" favorites... my martini was refreshingly icy, the coq au vin flavorful, and the pommes frites hot and crisp, accented lightly with fresh sweet garlic. As I took my first bite of baguette with a healthy smear of rich, sweet cream butter, I was reminded of a passage from Alice Waters' first Chez Panisse Menu Cookbook (originally published in 1982) that I picked up from a used bookstore in the Mission District and first read in early 1998:

It is a mystery that the simple, homey process involving yeast, flour, and water is rarely duplicated commerically in a delicious and proper way. It is difficult to understand why there are so few good bread bakeries, and I must ask, Why is this so? My criterion for good bread is simple: it must stand by itself, perhaps with only the addition of a little sweet butter. Good bread has a look, a smell, and a texture that tells you it is "handmade." This means, at the very least, that the bread will have a final shaping by hand which produces the charming irregularities that seduce you immediately.

Yep, I couldn't agree more... that simple culinary ethic was pretty much what I was looking for on this cold evening in the Pacific Northwest. And just like that, February has come and gone.

Technorati Tags: Voila Bistrot, Seattle, coq au vin, comfort food

New beginnings...

The reality of life changes sometimes doesn't hit you until you're right in the midst of them, no matter how far in advance you plan. I'm in Seattle right now -- not for a visit, but for good... well, at least for the foreseeable future. This morning, I took a final stroll through the Jack London Square farmers' market with Lav on a spectacular, sunny day. When she dropped me off at the airport, I tried to keep a light-hearted attitude -- first, to keep her unemotional, but later, to keep my own emotions in check. Wow, is it really "goodbye" to the Bay Area? Am I really doing this relocation of my own choice?

Waves of intense feelings sat at the edge of my psyche -- predominantly fueled by the thoughts of being apart from my wife for four months (except, of course, for weekends and our vacation to Greece in April)... yeah, basically that part of the whole deal is pretty brutal, and makes it relatively unbelievable that I'm actually here.

But, on the plane flight over, I also found myself uplifted by the excitement of new opportunities to come... the new job, a new city, new personalities, new challenges, and hopefully even new successes. The beauty of Seattle is so striking on the final approach right before landing, with the sun glistening off the water and illuminating the lush, green landscape. Suddenly, I'm filled with the same intense optimism that made me want to take this job and make this crazy change to our lives in the first place.

On to food... Dinner tonight, as I'm writing this, finds me at Black Bottle in Belltown. I'm enamored with my glass of comfortably casual Cotes-du-Rhone, and sating myself on the perfectly cooked, velvety tender hangar steak, served with grated daikon and a salad of cucumber, scallions, watercress and fantastically peppery shiso, dressed lightly in sesame oil and rice vinegar. To my right, a crusty flatbread of prosciutto and bechamel. I'm liking this place a lot, from the sexy, industrial filament light fixtures to the stylish but casual urban crowed filling the place with life and energy on an otherwise subdued Sunday evening. Yeah, this feels right. I know we're here for reasons that go beyond my job, and reasons that may not even be in our control. I'm looking forward to seeing the full potential and outcomes of those reasons unfold. Yes, Seattle is definitely different than the Bay Area, but within its attributes is a thread of familiarity that helps me already feel at home.