Summer Garden 2010 - Santa Cruz Mountains

Summer in the Santa Cruz Mountains – Tomato’s & Basil…
I had planned to have an entire garden filled with every imaginable vegetable & fruit. From Honeydew to Musk Mellon and Arugula to Artichokes. Yes, there was to be towering sweet corn and lovely vines of sweet peas. Well, it turned out to not quite work out this year. I planted a tidy crop of strawberries, some kitchen herbs and way, way too many tomatoes. Sadly the soil around the house is far too sandy and somewhat suspect in general. So, we did everything in pots. Picture a driveway almost totally covered with varying sizes of tomato plants and an odd assortment of cilantro, multiple kinds of basil and the aforementioned strawberry plants.
What does all this mean? It means that we are eating caprese salad almost every day now. Fresh mozzarella, hand picked heirloom tomatoes and lots and lots of basil. It is nice. It’s not the cornucopia of veggies we had hoped for, but I am certainly having more success here with my tomato plants then I ever did in San Francisco. Yep. No doubt about that.

Breakfast at 7-11 in Tokyo

Breakfast at 7-11? Only in Tokyo!
I would like to suggest that if you are going to Japan you spend some time wandering around convenience stores. 7-11 is a great place to start, but there are many others. They are similar yet so very different from the Quickie Mart places you might be familiar with from the U.S. On a recent trip I was amused to find a popular place that advertised “Family Market – Alcohol & Cigarettes.” Super.
So, there are many things you will find at a 7-11 in Tokyo that simply do not ever exist at, say, a 7-11 in South Dakota. There generally are no beef sticks, beef jerky or other meat treats. In Japan there is an alternative and that is ‘ika’ or squid. It is prepared in a similar fashion to beef jerky. It tastes pretty good, but for the uninitiated it is an acquired taste. It does have a fairly distinct fishy taste and while living in Tokyo we found that our dog was absolutely wild for the stuff. He would dance on hind legs and spin in circles for a nibble of dried ‘ika’ from 7-11. There are also pretty wild candy and drink options. Tiny “health” drinks are available. Some newer ones come in foil pouches and are loaded with vitamins and flavored with artificial grapefruit and grape. I like these. Many of them have a gelatin like texture and make wild claims of both energy and health on the packages. Others come in small brown bottles. These have been around for ages and are packed with everything from sugar and caffeine to alcohol and nicotine. My favorite of these is a small brown bottle called ‘Oronamin-C.’ Tasty and loaded with vitamins, sugars and caffeine. You will also find all kinds of wacky sports drinks and an incredible array of canned coffee and teas. In the winter you can buy either hot or cold cans of coffee. (If you really want to read a spectacular bit of writing on Japan get a copy of Kuhaku. There is a chapter on canned coffee and the “reviews” of each brand. Very funny. You will laugh until you cry. Well, I certainly did) There are also the usual sodas and all kinds of beer and canned drinks fortified with alcohol. Chu-hai in a can is a lemon flavored drink spiked with sho-chu (distilled sake, generally about 25% alcohol) Also, recently they have begun offering “strong” beer. This is 7% beer. Not an IPA, but just a Sapporo with more alcohol inside each can. Neat!
Food? There is an entire section of bento box lunches and ‘oni-giri ‘(rice balls) This is where you go for breakfast when taking a quick trip to Tokyo. First and most important these convenience markets are generally open 24/7. So, if you are up at 3am with jet lag you can pop into the nearest Family Market and get some smokes, a “strong” beer and a few ‘oni-giri.’ Now, you might think “Hey, I’ve seen the frightening super nachos and withered corn dogs for sale in the U.S., there is no way in hell I’d eat anything from a 7-11.” Yes, well certainly there is no good food at a 7-11 in the U.S. Nope. Never. There is, however, some really good treats at these places in Japan. I am not kidding. The ‘oni-giri’ is excellent and always fresh. I like the ones with cooked salmon or pickled plum. They are wrapped with crisp ‘nori’ seaweed. What? How is it possible that you can plastic wrap “crisp” seaweed on rice and keep it crisp? All, as you’ll find a continual theme in Japan it is all in the wrapping. There ‘nori’ is wrapped in a separate sleeve outside the rice ball. When you are ready to eat you simply un-wrap the package and then re-wrap after removing the plastic. Voila!! Crisp and crunchy ‘nori’ around fresh rice and hidden treats inside towards the core.
So, if you are in Tokyo be sure to get an o-bento or a few ‘oni-giri’ from a 7-11 for your morning meal. Browse the ‘manga’ cartoon shelf and marvel at the incredibly perverse cartoons. Wow! There is truly nothing like this outside of Japan!

Chanko-Nabe - Sumo Food in Tokyo

Chanko-Nabe, Ryogoku – Tokyo, Japan
Chanko-Nabe is a dish that is famous because sumo wrestlers eat it to gain weight. It is a ‘nabe’ dish, meaning it’s kind of like a stew that is prepared in a pot and generally consists of daikon, potato, tofu, onions, cabbage and pork. It is surprisingly tasty and a bowl of it is generally not as overwhelming as one might guess. Sumo wrestlers actually eat bowl upon bowl upon bowl of this in order to become massive…
So, I am in Tokyo with Jeff Inahara and his Dad. We are on a mission to pick up some souvenirs. Apparently Sam needs a pair of wooden ‘geita’ shoe/clogs. These are the cloppity-cloppity wooden sandels with two chunks of wood at the bottom that make a peculiar sound when walking. They are very cool in an anime-samurai kinda way. Thus Sam wants them. Sam has big feet. In Japan this is a problem. We first ask about these extra large ‘geita’ in what we figured was an appropriate store. The man at the store shook his head and explained that a size 10 was, well, “difficult.” Very Japanese of him. Not “impossible.” Just “Difficult.” This means it is going to be just North of Impossible. After living in Japan for over a decade I have heard the expression “Difficult” many times and can assure you the answer almost always means there is really no way in hell. I try to explain the meaning of “no” to Jeff. Jeff is American. He does not know the meaning of the word “no.” We press further. We are told “possibly” out in Ryogoku where the sumo stables are… Makes sense. Sumo wrestlers are huge dudes and can’t possible have small hands and feet… Later that day we also try Mitsukoshi Department Stores flagship store in Nihonbashi close to the Ginza shopping district. It is unquestionable one of the very best department stores in the world. Foreigners shop there. There most be large shoes. Wrong. They are very polite, but we can tell that we may as well be asking them if there are elves on the roof dancing with unicorns. They are polite because we are clearly nuts. There are no size 10 geita. But? Well, possibly out in Ryokoku. How far is it? About an hour away. Goodness. We thank them and wander off.

From Roppongi we take the Oedo subway line all the way out to Ryogoku. It’s a long way. One we get there I figured there would be all kinds of cute stores selling enormous shoes and comically sized yukata. Instead there is a long and busy road with traffic and little else to see. We go to the koban (police box) to ask a police man about shoes. He tells us there is a store that sells clothing for sumo wrestlers, but ‘geita?’ “Difficult.” Oh, no. Here we are again with "difficult." I thank him and we all set off. (it was, for the record in the complete opposite direction from where we had already wandered) Finally, I see the store. Inside there are indeed comically sized yukata and one pair of overalls that could quite effortlessly fit four of me inside. We have a good laugh at these overalls. Three thin men all laughing at overalls. The proprietor can tell we are not real customers. We are gawkers. She asks if she can help us. I ask about ‘geita.’ No. She does not have them. Incredible. Do giant dudes in truck sized overalls stroll around barefoot in Tokyo? She points us to a tiny traditional shoe place down the road. We go there. Yes, there are huge slippers and sandels and ‘geita.’ Nice! The little old man working there is surrounded by wood carving tools and helps us select an appropriate pair of wooden geita carved from single chunks of wood. Now, we are clearly close to the sumo holy land. I ask him about ‘chanko-nabe.’ He smiles. He tells me there are many places. But? There is only one that he likes. He gives us directions.
We wander off and eventually find the sumo-zone. There is a giant auditorium where the actual matches take place. There are chanko-nabe places everywhere. We are hungry. We are really hungry. It’s a good thing we find the place. I ask the guy, “You have chanko-nabe, the good chanko nabe?” I am told he does. “The best?” Absolutely. “The best in the World?” Yes!
That was one of the best meals we had on our trip. Wow. If you are going to Tokyo you really need to have chanko-nabe. Oh, and thanks to Sam and his huge feet. We would never have come all the way out here if he had small feet..

Pizzeria Delfina

San Francisco has had a pizza problem since the very start. Yes, the beautiful city by the bay has been famous for food since the gold rush. There were oysters back then actually thriving in the bay and local bakers made sour dough bread that was, i am sure, quite tasty… Fast forward to the modern age. Michelin Star restaurants and food from all over the globe. I could point you to places for amazing and perfectly authentic food from Russia to Cambodia and from Africa to India. San Francisco is a food lover’s paradise. Yet, for some very odd reason it has always been New York for pizza and bagels. Yes, we have always had both. But? Really? No. Well, then Anne and Crag Stoll of Delfina woke up one morning and undoubtedly had the same epiphany I’d been having for years. “Why is there no authentic, thin crust Italian Pizza in S.F? Why is there no amazing pizza here?” Unlike my years of bitter complaints they actually did something about it. They opened Pizzeria Delfina next door to Delfina. Nice. Is it good? Yes. Is it good enough to rant and rave about? Absolutely. Better than pizza in Italy? Sometimes. Yes. Well, let me just say that it is so damn close to some of the best pizza that I’ve had in Italy that well, it really doesn’t matter. A side-by-side taste test is not possible. Pizzeria Delfina is thin crust bliss in the Mission District of S.F. It does not try, in any way shape or form, to compare to the New York Slice. Nope. They serve whole pies that are fairly small. Each pizza comes hot out of the over hot and perfect…
But where am I now? Sitting on my couch. Surrounded by redwoods in the Santa Cruz Mountains. I sold my house in Bernal Heights and moved to the mountains. I am now 1.5 hours from Pizzeria Delfina. The distance has limited any impulsive pizza purchases. They say distance, at times, can make the heart grow fonder. Well, not sure about that logic, but I can assure you that when I am in San Francisco now I plan my meals with strategy and with purpose. There is also shopping, but I’ll get into the sorrow of shopping at say Johnnie’s vs. Avedano’s Holy Park Meat Market at another time… Yes, I come into the city and I plan my lunch carefully. Once or twice a week I am back in the land of quaint Victorians and the blight of chilly summer fog. I am in the land of amazing restaurants. I am in food heaven. So, I work for each and every meal in S.F. these days and I really appreciate them. Yep. So, Delfina?
Yesterday I was in the city and had lunch with Hideko. She and I met on a rare sunny day in August. Always exciting to leave the sunny comforts of the Santa Cruz Mountains and ride along the spine of the Mountain range flashing past different climactic zones. From hot to cold and back as I wind along the twisting road through the redwoods. Into the chilly wind along the Highway 35 looking off to the coast where a blanket of fog (and the cold) sits off shore menacingly… But today? It is hot and beautiful in the city. We get a table and the light and airy pizzeria. We chat with the waitress and are told to get the soup. This is always a good move. Beyond pizza? Everything on the menu is good to the point where it will make you weep. If sand dabs are in season you will find them on the menu. Always get the sand dabs. Today I get a “cherry pie” made from cherry tomatoes. Hideko gets the calzone. Our food is celestial. It is almost too good to believe.

The pizza is amazing. A pity they don’t deliver…

Mexican Food in The Santa Cruz Mountains

Don Quixote’s Mexican Restaurant – Felton
O.K. So, I moved here from San Francisco. I am very, very into food. I plan my travel around restaurants and spend far too long pondering options and ingredients when cooking. I guess I knew what I was getting into when deciding to move to the Santa Cruz Mountains. Not many options for high-end restaurants. Guess it depends on expectations as well…
Don Quixote’s, Felton? Looks like a dive bar with a sprawling restaurant attached and a venue for live music tossed in there for good measure. The first time Dianthe and I rolled over there on our bicycles there was some motorcycle club’s poker run taking place in the bar. So, a solid cluster of Harley’s and thuggish dudes milling about the bar. A nice older lady told us to sit “any place” we liked. We liked that. There were a good number of empty tables to choose from. A bad sign? A sign of the times? Not sure. Still, we sat and ordered cold bottles of Pacifico on the hot summer day.
Wound up getting chicken enchilada’s with a beef taco and a side of rice and beans. It was pretty average, but no real complaints. Kinda like Mexican fast food at a sit down restaurant. Still, it was not bad. This is what I was talking about earlier with “expectations.” Yes, I like the best food possible and if it were up to me there would be food from every country on earth available here in the woods. There would be more Michelin star restaurants here in the San Lorenzo Valley than in Paris. I would be really happy. Sadly, food here is not something that makes my heart sing. Food here is simply something warm to fill the belly. This is a sad state of affairs. Yep. It is why I sometimes need an escape to New York. Or an escape to Tokyo… Yes.
Still, Don Quixote’s is not bad at all. I have since been there a couple more times and am generally pleased to have a platter of Mexican treats for dinner. Living in the Santa Cruz Mountains is absolutely beautiful, but you really need to “kill it and grill it” as Ted Nugent once said… Otherwise you are at the mercy of some pretty average fare. I did move here to garden and to work out in the hills and in my kitchen. So, sniveling is only because I am being a baby… Oh, and Mexican food around here certainly works in a pinch.

The Boulder Creek Brewery & The Demise of an excellent Burger

The Boulder Creek Brewery – 2010
After college I moved to the somewhat sleepy beach town of Santa Cruz where I planned to make a living as a part time writer and as a full time surf bum. Ambitious, I know… So, I did just that. Found a magazine in L.A. that wound up publishing a series of articles under a pseudonym. Eventually I found that I was really not making enough money and I sold out and took a job selling software for a start-up company in Sunnyvale. So, I began commuting and eventually thinking that a spot halfway through the redwoods would be ideal to live. Boulder Creek. Nothing going on in this tiny mountain town. Perfection. Just redwoods and mountains and a tiny little microbrewery that, at the time, had some of the best beer in California. That alone would prove reason enough for me to move there.
In the early 90s The Boulder Creek Brewery was a destination brewery. This was really the start of microbreweries in California and the brewer at the time really got the concept. There were a number of classic “go to” beers on tap at all times. The Redwood Ale was an award winner and was consistently excellent. The Oatmeal Stout was strong and had a bite and the appearance of black coal. I loved that stout. They would also have amazing seasonal beers. High alcohol Belgian triples in the winter and one, particularly memorable, Belgian Wit, a Wheat beer flavored with coriander and orange peel… The food was also good. Really good. Californian Bar Comfort food. The Boulder Burger was big and had cheese, bacon and mushrooms… Ahhh… the glory days.
Since then the brewer and all the staff have moved on. The burgers have ranged from average to poor. Now, the beer is solid, but none of the amazing seasonal beers seem to be happening anymore. The Oatmeal Stout has lost it’s luster and the Redwood ale, well just not like the glory days. Hell, even the Lompico Gold IPA never came back after a change in brewers some time back. The new IPA is a solid beer… It’s just that the beer was a solid A plus at the Boulder Creek Brewery back in the 90s and now it’s a B. The food? It went from an A to a C minus.
Will I still go there? Hell yes. Is the beer good? Well, the IPA is good. The other beers are not strong enough for me. Yes, they make their own beer on site. It is still a microbrewery, but the glory days seem long, long ago. I want that crazy craft beer back! I want the best of the best! Why not? We are in California and a quick trip to a decent pub offers excellent beers from all over the state and all over the country. This was once a destination bar where people would go well out of their way to taste the best of the redwoods. Now? Sure, you get tourists rolling through town and a smattering of local drinkers. But destination brewery? Not by a long shot.
Oh, and the burger? Well, it’s not like it used to be. It’s smaller. It’s not as good. Ah, so sad….

Hayashi Tenpura - Tokyo

Hayashi Tempura – Perfection

By

Michael J. Skurko

Hayashi Tempura. The Temple of Tempura. We’ve made arrangements in advance per the suggestion of our “Food Guide to Tokyo.” With guide book in hand we follow the twisting treasure map from Nihonbashi subway station to this immaculate hole in the wall. We walk in the door and see that this shrine of tempura is an expression of culinary minimalism. At a glance it is… perfect. I have a good idea of what is to come from the restaurant guide and I am feeling a giddy sense of delicious anticipation.

The tempura bar itself is made from beautifully polished cypress wood. The wood is bleached and smooth from the religious fervor with which it is cleaned. We sit around the counter, Mom and I, awaiting the arrival of Saito-san. There are six other seats at the bar occupied by Japanese businessmen. They talk business as we sit transfixed by the calm before this culinary storm. At any moment the star will arrive. His slippers await him on the perfectly polished wood floor in front of the bar. A one man show. A one act play. Seating for eight. One setting per day. No menu. He’ll select what is the best, in seasonal seafood and vegetables. We know this from the book. Sweet shrimp, scallops, squid, kissu fish, and perfectly grown Japanese vegetables. Ah, yes… Anticipation mounting with increased tempo. Soon, the master will arrive. We are now waited on continually by nearly invisible wait staff. Crisp and cold, golden Yebisu beer appears in tiny glasses. Steamed ‘oshibori’ hand towels arrive on a bamboo tray. Mom and I are tucked in the corner enjoying the sanctity of our domain. Box seating at the culinary opera. To my right the six Japanese businessmen nibble on small snacks and drink sake. They chat and drink seemingly oblivious to the beauty of the place. The staff seems to know these men and do not need to ask what they need. Silent, nearly invisible service. These are the three people assisting Saito-san. One appears to be the food prep guy. The other two are dressed in kimono and waiting on customers at the counter.

The stage is set. Eight customers at a wooden bar in a tiny room in a towering building in Nihonbashi. Inside the setting is ancient. Outside the blinking lights and bleating horns seem a lifetime away. Here there is calm. Here there is perfect simplicity. If an item is not 100% required for the task of preparing tenpura it does not exist. A single gas tube connects to the industrial looking gas burner. This range is a circle of iron that sits atop the wooden counter. A single pan of clear oil.. To the left of that there is a stainless steel sink. There is a very narrow walkway where Saito-san will soon perform his tempura artwork. He makes the scene and slips into his slippers.

Saito-san. A humble, middle aged man has appeared. Silently, moving in front of the counter. He is a somber, serene man. He greets us each individually. His assistant has already brought today’s selection. From our seats we can see a beautiful array of scallops, live shrimp, kisso, asparagus, sora-mame (beans) and what we are later told are some special fish from lake Biwa. There’s a small pile of shiitake mushrooms and squid. Did I already mention that these creatures are very much alive? The shrimp are in a stainless steel bowl and are thrashing around until… Saito-san quickly goes to the task of preparing. He takes the prawns one at a time from the bowl and quickly and very effectively kills, shells and de-veins them in what appears to be a single martial arts move. It looks like he is performing miniature judo moves on these hapless shrimp. Quickly and effectively he is immobilizing their attack. His movements are practiced and precise. It is an amazing sight. I am transfixed. He plucks a trashing shrimp from the bowl and in two quick hand moves has rendered in ready for the batter. Poetry in motion. The businessmen to our right are still engrossed in the minutia of business talk. Mom and I remain speechless. We can not stop staring at the master in motion. How to describe this perfect moment? Timeless. Perfection. Zen. This is really huge and we haven’t even had a bite to eat yet. This man has an awe-inspiring presence. Over stated? Nope. This is what I am soon to find is the best tempura of my life.

So, now the food. Saito-san begins. He adds some flour and water to a stainless steel bowl. The oil is now quickly gaining in temperature. He takes the chopsticks and dips into the batter splashing a test dollop in. It spatters and dances at the surface of the oil. Must be approaching perfection. The prawns are now gently bathed in batter and slowly dropped into the oil. Amazing grace. The scent of ama-ebi, sweet shrimp, rises to my eager senses. I know what is coming. That extra special prawn is upencoming, soon to greet my lips. Saito-san lays a single prawn on my dish. As he places this gem at my plate of worship he smiles with modesty and suggests “sukoshi shio of tsukete ne..” This translates to “with just a little salt…” I dip the prawn first into the salt dish and then into the daikon oroshi, grated 'daikon' radish. Atop this standard garnish is something even more exquisite. There is fresh-grated ‘yuzu,’ a Japanese citrus that is similar to a lemon only with a more delicate and distinct flavor. To me the touch of yuzu in a meal is the essence of Japan. Ahhh… I move the prawn from my dipping sauce to my mouth. Sweet, delicate, delicious. Love, bliss, cosmic. Unlike any other culinary moment. The prawn and sauce give rise to five distinct flavors. I can taste it. I am in love.

There is nothing like Hayashi Tenpura. Yes, I would (and have) now come to Tokyo just to eat dinner here. It is that good. Each time. Magical.