Japanese fried chicken (karaage) w/ salmon caviar (ikura)

[ezcol_1half] "  Ikura's intensity lies in its sticky and viscous brininess that liquifies and oozes around the tongue after each pops.  When you think about it, a sauce, almost.  " We came home from a long weekend in Kyoto and, if I may, I want to talk about me and karaage for a bit. For those who aren't familiar, karaage, aka Japanese fried chicken, is and should be regarded as a league of its own, standing far apart from the classic American fried chickens or the recently popularized Korea-style fried chickens.  It is none of those.  Karaage is boneless, cut into medium to large-size chunks, without sauce, and almost always, as gods intended, uses dark meats only.  Flavor-wise, due to its mildly sweetened brine, its juice runs almost nectar-like, secreting from its firm and bouncy muscles following the crunch of karaage's trademark white-speckled crusts.  Served simply with lemon wedges and Japanese-style mayonnaise called Kewpie — also a distinction from American/European mayonnaise but that's another story — such formula has become an establishment in the Japanese diet, celebrated everywhere from restaurants, department stores, convenience stores and even train stations.  Clearly as popular opinions suggest, there's nothing wrong with it for sure. I used to adore

Singapore hawker marathon: Coconut rice part two, lemongrass fried chicken and fragrant salmon cake

[ezcol_1fifth]  [/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] THE CRUST IS THE HERBS, THE HERBS ARE THE CRUST, ONE AND INSEPARABLE, CRUNCHING TOWARDS A COMMON, GLORIOUS PURPOSE WHAT:  The overkill toppings for my nasi lemak, none other than the jacked up lemongrass fried chickens, and a salmon shrimp mousse fused with herb pastes and grilled inside aromatic leaves. WHY:  Nasi lemak wants toppings. HOW:  I was once floored by a fried chicken I came across in Kuala Lumpur during the Ramadan, and it took me several years and at least six attempts to get it as close to what I remembered as possible.  Instead of heavy flour-based breadings, these chickens are suited in a delicate, crispy, nest-like formation of blazing lemongrass, ginger and spices.  The crust is the herbs, and the herbs are the crust, one and inseparable, crunching towards a common, glorious purpose.  And that is to be the best damn fried chicken you'll ever taste.  A few of my past mistakes that you should take note from, is that the chicken needs to be marinated inside the herb-puree for at least six hours in order to reach its true calling.  Then instead of a breading, a minimal amount of potato starch or cornstarch is added at the end

Singapore hawker marathon: Coconut rice part one, tomato chili sambal and lemongrass ricotta

[ezcol_1fifth]  [/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] An incredibly fragrant coconut rice cooked in pandan extraction, a tomato-based chili sambal boosted with Italian anchovies, and a lemongrass-infused coconut milk ricotta crumbled with thinly sliced shallots and bird's eye chili marinated in fish sauce WHAT:  Nasi Lemak, Malay's signature fragrant coconut rice cooked in coconut milk and served with a spicy and sweet chili sambal. WHY:  You haven't really had rice until you've tasted nasi lemak.  And if you have tasted nasi lemak and consider this statement grossly exaggerated - as I once was - then it's highly probable that it's because you haven't had this nasi lemak.  Best yet, most components can be made days ahead of time. HOW:  Let's face it.  There are a lot of underwhelming nasi lemak out there.  And I say this with the full acknowledgement that it's an explicitly personal opinion resulting from my deeply rooted disagreement with more than one of its traditional, possibly beloved, practices.  The coconut rice, without any dispute, is the heroine of the entire dish.  We should all agree that if this part isn't done right, then none of the others shall matter.  But in my three to four encounters of nasi lemak in Malaysia and Singapore, more often than

NASHED-UP HOT CHICKEN CUTLET SANDWICH

HOT DICKS SO BIG [ezcol_1half] [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] Today is the 4th day, the longest duration since 2002, the year I moved to New York, that I've ever gone without ingesting a drop of coffee.  Not a drop. Because on September 6th 2015, an otherwise wonderfully uneventful morning, my coffee-stash abruptly ran out on me without a warning as if it was premeditated, leaving me in a cold-turkey caffeine withdrawal that I'm frankly too sleepy to wrestle.  Right of course, I don't live in a no-man's land.  There's a convenience store downstair just 3 minutes of walking from where my ass sits, ready to supply me lacking but coffee-like substances that will ease the cold sweats and wobbling mind.  But more to my own surprise than anything else, I didn't go.  In the passing 96 hours of brain-paralysis, waiting for my online coffee shipment which hasn't came yet, I just stayed inside my bunker chewing and spitting out green tea-leaves, mainly trying to open my eyes without much success.  Shit, I can't even open them now.  Did you know you can type with your eyes closed?  Uh Whast was thsr? This episode told me something about myself.  You know I would never sell my sloth short of its worth, God bless its noble

Salty Crispy Poppers

(简体)(繁體) Once upon a time in a land far far away, there lived a young girl. Everyday after school, she took the same road home, wearing her same brown shoes, humming the same little song.  One afternoon just like the day before, she passed by the usual food stall on the way, but felt unusually hungry.  She realized that she forgot to eat lunch because she was probably too busy chasing boys during lunch break.  Remembering what her mother had always warned her about the forbidden street snack, she reached for the changes in her pocket and hesitated.  An old, wrinkly lady behind a huge wok of boiling grease smiled at her and said, "Hi there, little one.  Would you like to have some Salty-crispy chicken?  Oh they are awfully delicious." The little girl pondered about all those stories her mother had told her.  Stories about little children who disobeyed their parents' warning and ate the forbidden street snacks.  Stories about the horrible things that happened to them afterwards

×