Yuzenya, Oyama-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan

When I moved to the small city of Oyama in Japan to work at Hakuoh Daigaku (university), I'd already had some experience with Japanese cuisine—how could I not after having shared so many wonderful meals with my colleagues from Japan at the University of Hawai'i?—but I wasn't truly aware of just how wonderful Japanese food could be.

After I arrived in Oyama-shi, the man who recruited me took me to a tiny izakaya (roughly, pub) a short walk from the school. At that moment, I was more concerned with learning how to dine with people who were my seniors at Hakuoh than with the food, but my first bites were more than delicious enough to lure me back, and I soon became a regular, eating there two or three times a week. The couple who own the restaurant spoke as little English as I spoke Japanese, but were still capable of sharing their love of good food with grace and hospitality.

I slowly worked my way through much of the menu, posting pictures and descriptions on Flickr for my friends to see. The food wasn't haute cuisine, but I've never been a food snob: if it's delicious and well prepared, it's good enough for me.

As you'd expect, though I tried loads of dishes, there were a few standouts that I came back to again and again, including the one pictured on the left. There isn't anything I could say about the rice at Yuzenya that I wouldn't say about all Japanese white rice. When well prepared (and it almost always is), it is slightly sweet and just a bit nutty.

The pork cutlet, which never tasted greasy, was moist and tender inside it's crispy-crunchy panko shell, and was served with katsu sauce on the side. The combination of the textures of tender, juicy meat, crispy coating, and the deep fruit and spice notes of the sauce danced in my mouth with every bite. Even the salad was a revelation to me, mild onions, fresh and sweet, in a sesame dressing that I can't replicate. The miso soup, usually served with small, tender clams and mushrooms, and brightened with green onion, was a staple for me, not only for its wonderful flavor, but also because it had a bit more body than most miso soups. As always, the meal came with small dishes of seasonal vegetables, cooked delicately, or pickled, and they rounded out the meal well.

When most westerners think of Japanese cuisine they think of tofu, sashimi, sushi, and other low fat foods, but the Japanese have a gift for deep frying food, and the chef at Yuzenya is a master, not only for his cutlets, but also for his chicken karaage (ka-ra-a-gay), chunks of thigh meat seasoned with garlic, salt, or lemon, dredged in corn starch, and fried till absolutely mouth-wateringly tender and juicy. Unlike the flaky coating in most American versions of fried chicken, this coating stayed on the chicken and was crisp unlike anything I have ever eaten. In truth, I have never experienced anything quite like it at any Japanese restaurant anywhere. Anywhere. And I have tried. 

Another eye-opening morsel that I shall never forget was a seasonal delicacy that the chef offered me one day: hotaruika, or firefly squid. The squid was served apparently raw, though some say that it must be blanched. It was subtle, sweet, and unexpectedly delicious. When I bit into it, liquid the texture of creme anglaise burst in my mouth. I'm not sure what it was, but it was divine and tasted like savory plum. Squid ink?

The first few times I went to Yuzenya, I wondered if I was so impressed by it because it was truly remarkable, or because I simply hadn't had enough experience with Japanese food. Later, the answer to that question became clear. Even my Japanese friends who came to visit me from "away," as we say in Maine, wondered if this izakaya was as good as I had insisted. But when they tried it, they realized that I hadn't exaggerated. They confirmed that Yuzenya was truly an "ichiban" (number one) Japanese izakaya.

In short: Yuzenya is a great little restaurant in a small city, a restaurant most will not be lucky enough to find. The food is exceptionally well prepared, and in a world of fusion cuisine, eating traditional izakaya food is a delight. The service is great, too. Last I knew, the restaurant was in a new location, a brighter, larger place.

Food: ★★★★★ Ambience: ★★★★☆ Service: ★★★★☆

Check, please: $$

Tsukune Onigiri and Pork-Fried Rice Onigiri (Japanese Rice Balls)

Onigiri, a Japanese convenience food, are balls of rice with something, often just salted plum, in the center. They can be served plain or rolled in nori, sesame seeds, or furikake, a blend of those ingredients and more. However they're prepared, they're easy to eat and a quick treat often picked up in 7-11 or Family Mart in lieu of a proper meal. Well, I was invited to a colleague's home for a potluck party a year or two ago, and couldn't decide what to bring. Usually, I wait till a mood strikes me, then make something from whatever I have on hand, but for this dish, I had to do a little shopping, but it was well worth the effort.

Of course, I couldn't simply replicate something I'd eaten before. Where would be the risk in doing that? I decided instead to merge onigiri with one of my favorite Japanese bar foods, tsukune, chicken meatballs. Here's what I did.

First, I minced fresh ginger, garlic, and scallions and mixed it with chicken that I had ground myself. I added some sesame oil and soy to the meat to give it a bit more flavor, though I probably didn't need to do this (see step two!). An egg yolk helped to bind it all together. I shaped the meat into tiny little balls about 3/4 of an inch in diameter, set them in a single layer on a cookie sheet, and chilled them covered in the fridge for about half an hour to make them easier to handle.

Second, I brought water to boil in a stock pot and added the ginger peels and some soy sauce to the water to enhance the flavor of the meatballs (or at least not to diminish their flavor!). I put the meatballs into the gently boiling water and cooked them until they floated to the surface, then drained them, storing them in the refrigerator as soon as possible. I had to cook them in batches, as I made enough for a party, but how long this takes will depend on how many you make.

While they cooled, I put some good Japanese rice into my rice cooker. It's important that you use short-grain Asian rice that gets sticky—no dry American rice here—or the balls will never stick together. After the rice finished cooking, I stirred it up to make it stickier. I didn't want the rice to cool completely; in fact, I wanted it to cool just enough for me to handle it. While it cooled, I put soy sauce, sesame oil, and katsu sauce in a skillet and cooked it down a bit till it thickened. After a quick roll around in the sauce, the meatballs looked as they do in the first picture.

By then, the rice had cooled just enough to handle, so I laid out a tray to put the finished onigiri on and set out a bowl of cold water to dip my hands into when they got sticky from the starch in the rice. I took a fistful of the still-hot sticky rice and flattened it in my palm, put a meatball in the center, and wrapped the rest of the rice around it. It was challenging at first to get just enough rice—too little, and it wouldn't form around the meatball; too much and the proportions would be wrong—but

after making a few, I got the hang of it. After all the onigiri were assembled, I rolled some of them in freshly toasted sesame seeds, then stacked them on a serving tray.

If you can't eat them right away, refrigerate them, but they taste best close to room temperature, so be sure to take them out of the fridge a bit early so they can warm up a bit. Don't reheat them, though, or they just might fall apart.

They were a big hit, and as far as I know, they are my own original fusion of two traditional Japanese foods.

The final picture is of onigiri I made using pork-fried rice in the center and white rice as the wrapper. They were delicious, but much milder in flavor than the tsukune onigiri. I rolled them in freshly toasted sesame seeds and shredded Korean nori, which has sesame oil and more salt than many Japanese nori, but you could buy furikake at the supermarket with whatever blend of sesame and seasonings you prefer.

Hmm... I think I need to make more of these this weekend!

Bubbies Mochi Ice Cream!

Ah, what can I say about Bubbies Mochi Ice Cream, sweet balls of ice cream wrapped in sheets of flavored mochi, other than that it is my favorite ice cream treat of all? A lot, apparently. When I moved to Honolulu for grad school, I had never heard of it, but friends took me to a little ice cream shop on University Avenue and introduced me to a treat unlike any I'd ever eaten before.

If you've never eaten mochi, it's sweet rice that's pounded until it's smooth and elastic. Traditionally made by hand for the Japanese New Year celebration, it can be served in a ball, grilled, or rolled out into a thin sheet and filled with a dollop of adzuki bean paste, or any of a number of fillings. It is a labor-intensive dish which is the foundation of countless sweets in Japan and other Asian countries. Though it can be an acquired taste for Westerners, as it isn't as sweet as most desserts here, it doesn't take people long to acquire a taste for mochi ice cream, especially the way they make it at Bubbies. I learned when I later lived in Japan that you can buy it at just about any convenience store, but cheap mochi ice cream just isn't as interesting or delicious as what they make in Hawai'i.

When you walk into the Bubbies on University Ave, you'll see a lot of frozen desserts in the display case, including some with unusual and provocative names, like "Eat Here - Get Gas" and "Hard-headed Woman," but most of the people in the line that often snakes out the door are waiting to choose from the long list of flavors of mochi ice cream including subtle and elegant treats like Sakura, a ball of vanilla ice cream wrapped in cherry-blossom flavored mochi, or bolder flavors like Chocolate/Espresso, espresso ice cream surrounded by chocolate flavored mochi. Whatever you choose, you won't be disappointed, but it's not just the flavor that makes mochi ice cream so appealing, it's the texture, as well.

If you take one straight out of the container, the exterior feels cold, hard, and a bit powdery, like corn starch, but after letting them soften a bit, they are perfect for eating. The mochi wrapper is stretchy and sticky, not ooey-gooey, sticky, but more like mini-marshmallow sticky, and you can sometimes get them to stick to your finger. The last time I was in Honolulu, I ordered several. You can see I already cut them in the picture. I bought all of my favorite flavors to share: green tea, mint oreo, strawberry, lychee, yuzu, and adzuki bean.

If you get to Honolulu, you have to stop by their shop, but if you don't have any plans to escape the mainland soon, check out the Whole Foods store nearest you. These balls of mochi ice cream are expensive, but they are a rare and unusual treat. If you're willing to pony up some serious loot, you can order them online. Last I checked, a large bag of 48 cost $80.

Décimal 81, Saint John, New Brunswick

Before leaving Bourbon Quarter, I asked the bartender where else I could go for good food. He said that he hadn't tried it yet, but that Décimal 81 had opened that year not too far up the street.

I decided to come in for an early dinner to beat the rush in a restaurant that was sure to be fully booked, and my plan worked. When I arrived, they were still setting up, but they promptly offered me a seat at a two-top near the entrance, the perfect place for me to watch passers-by while enjoying dinner. The restaurant itself is pale yellow, bright, and elegant with etched glass windows and dark wood furnishings. My server, however, seemed to be quite nervous, and may have been fairly new. She had to check with the restaurant often when I asked about the dishes.

While the restaurant specializes in five- or seven-course tasting menus for what is quite a reasonable price, I knew that I wanted to save room for dessert elsewhere, so I decide to order two courses from the menu. Before they came, however, I ordered a specialty cocktail. Unfortunately, they didn't have any mint, and after they offered to substitute basil, a member of the mint family, they discovered that they were out of it also. Ultimately, I settled on their Uptown 81, Cuban Rum with lemons, limes, sugar, and tonic, but the quinine overwhelmed the rum.

The chef was gracious enough to send out an amuse bouche, a spoonful of braised beef in a red wine reduction with fresh herbs and sea salt. The beef was perfectly cooked and seasoned, but would have benefited from a bit more of the fresh herbs to brighten it up a bit.

My starter was russet potato gnocchi, and it was fantastic. (Is my love of dumplings showing?) They were perfectly tender and served with roasted tomato, and goat cheese. The tomatoes were rich and warm, and they balanced the creamy cheese beautifully.

Before my main course arrived, I was ready for some wine, a glass of Fortius Tempranillo, which was a good match for my dinner, a braised lamb shank. The lamb, which was fork-tender and pulled apart easily, was served atop a bed of creamy polenta with parmigiana reggiano and roasted root vegetables au jus that were cooked just to the point of tenderness, not a bit longer.

In brief: Décimal 81 serves exceptional food that it would be difficult to improve on. The decor is bright and cheerful, but the service that night was professional, but strained. This doesn't seem to have hurt business, though.

This is a "First Impressions" review.

Food: ★★★★☆ Ambience: ★★★★☆ Service: ★★☆☆☆

Check, please: $$$$

Bourbon Quarter

81 Princess Street,

Saint John, New Brunswick

(506) 642-8181

Bourbon Quarter, Saint John, New Brunswick

I recently had the opportunity to travel to Saint John, New Brunswick for a weekend away from home. I chose Saint John after discovering that Portland, Maine would be booked solid for the Columbus Day weekend. It's much like Portland with its strong ties to the ocean, and offers visitors a great selection of restaurants to visit. I was lucky to try three and a cupcake shop all within walking distance of the B&B where I stayed.

The first was Bourbon Quarter, an upscale restaurant with occasional live music recommended by the owners of the Mahogany Manor Bed and Breakfast. I wasn't sure what to expect as I approached the entrance to the restaurant, but I was sure I'd need to sit at the bar, as I hadn't made a reservation. I didn't mind at all, though, as it meant I could watch the bartenders practice their trade, a great way to learn about the entire establishment.

The interior of the restaurant is a sleek and classic and features various different seating areas including a bar wrapped around the end of the kitchen. The brick, dark wood, wrought iron, and leather are all part of a fabulous backdrop for a truly enjoyable dining experience. Here's a picture of one of the seating areas from their website.

After a few minutes perusing the extensive menu, I asked the bartender, Brian, for the first of my three starters, their version of poutine. For those of you who have never eaten this Canadian dish, it is generally a guilty pleasure at best. You see, poutine is a pile of fried potatoes covered with cheese curds and gravy, and while you can make it with fat-free gravy and skim-milk cheese, that's not the way it is usually served. At Bourbon Quarter, the poutine is far from ordinary. Their version is lobster poutine. You read that right, lobster poutine, which they make with brie instead of cheese curds, herbed potato wedges instead of french fries, a creamy creole sauce instead of gravy, and lobster. When Brian set the bowl in front of me, I leaned over and breathed in deeply. The first bite was a revelation, and I was momentarily puzzled by how something so rich could taste so delicious AND light. That's when I tasted the herbs sprinkled around the rim of the bowl and realized the trick was in the thyme. The toasted thyme brightened the entire dish, pulling all the flavors together beautifully. If you like lobster, brie, and aren't afraid of a few calories, this is a dish you should not miss, especially with a glass of whatever dry riesling they were serving that night.

My second starter was another remarkable dish, a warm goat cheese fritter atop a bed of arugula served with chopped beet salad and toasted candied pecans. The fritter was lightly fried and crispy on the outside, but soft inside, and it held its shape as I cut into it with my fork. While very good, I think the pecans would have popped a bit more in the mouth had they been dusted with dried ginger before they were candied. They are sometimes served as a bacon praline, which sounds divine.

My final starter (and final dish) was a plate of perogies made with local wild boar served with two different berry coulis and crème fraiche. Like the arugula salad, this dish was remarkable, but I think I would have enjoyed it more if they had added some caramelized onions to the perogies to enhance the texture and sweeten them up a bit. Still, they were very good.

In brief: Bourbon Quarter is a hit. The food was, for the most part, exceptional, the decor was warm and inviting, and the service was impeccable, the perfect balance of welcoming and professional. This restaurant is worth a visit to Saint John, and I expect to go back again.

This is a "First Impressions" review.

Food: ★★★★☆ Ambience: ★★★★☆ Service: ★★★★★

Check, please: $$$$

Bourbon Quarter

114 Prince William Street,

Saint John, New Brunswick

(506) 214-3618

Spicy Corn Muffins

This afternoon, I wanted to do a bit of baking, but didn't have a lot of time to spend, so I compromised. I used a corn muffin mix and added my own seasonings to make them extra special and extra tasty. Though my friends know I love spicy foods, these are not very spicy at all; they just have a bit of heat in the finish.

To make them yourself, just add 1/2 teaspoon of cayenne pepper, 1 tablespoon of garlic powder, and 1/2 tablespoon of chipotle pepper to whatever liquids you need to add to the boxed mix. These amounts are for a mix that makes six muffins, and you can certainly adjust the quantities to taste. After I scooped the batter into the muffin tin, I dusted them with smoked sea salt, then cooked them according to the instructions on the box.

These are great just with a bit of butter, or with some Stonewall Kitchens Roasted Garlic and Onion Jam. Use just a little jam, though, as too much will overwhelm the spices.

I'll definitely make these again, and when I do, I'll use fat-free sour cream instead of eggs and milk as the liquids.

To be continued...

Massimo's Cucina Italiana, Bangor, Maine

Growing up in downeast Maine provided few opportunities to eat good Italian food. Most restaurants offered nothing more than what any of us could assemble using pasta and sauce from the supermarket with a few embellishments from the cupboard. While I certainly didn't know any better at the time, thanks first to countless hours watching "The Frugal Gourmet" as a teen and, later in life, to experiences in different Italian restaurants around the world, I know now a bit more about what great Italian food should taste like: bright, flavorful, succulent, and savory.

I recently visited a restaurant in Bangor, Main, that serves great Italian food; that restaurant is Massimo's Cucina Italiana. According to the restaurant website, Massimo, who was born in Rome, and his wife, Anne Marie, opened their restaurant in 2007 and have been wowing locals and visitors from afar since then.

The restaurant, in a multi-story building in downtown Bangor, is quite handsome, albeit a bit darker than I would have liked. When we arrived, we were taken promptly to our table, a high-top near the bar. After a few minutes of serious discussion (and some help from our waitress), we chose a bottle of Cantele Primitivo, a medium-bodied red with an expansive mouthfeel, strong (but not overwhelming!) tannins, and subtle sweetness that went well with everything we ate.

Our first starter was a special salad that evening, a plate of baby arugula, grape tomatoes, lemon dressing, and shaved parmigiana; it was exactly what we had expected, a balance of bitter, sweet, tart, and salty.

Our second starter was a plate of prosciutto, asiago, and provolone. The prosciutto was lovely, but in my estimation, it paled in comparison to the asiago and provolone, both of which were stand-outs in the world of Italian cheeses in terms of taste and texture.

The taste and texture of my main course were, however, not as good as I had hoped. In fact, it was very good; it just didn't melt in my mouth the way I know a lamb shank can. It came with cannellini beans, which were cooked just right, and roasted vegetables, which were overcooked and a bit mushy.

The Pollo Alla Massimo, ordered by my friend (Thank you!!!), was superb. This chicken breast stuffed with spinach, ricotta, and almonds, wrapped on one end with some porky goodness (pancetta perhaps?), and laden with mushroom cream sauce could not have been improved.

Another dish which could not have been any better was the gnocchi. I love dumplings of all kinds: gnocchi tossed in basil pesto, baked pierogi's, steamed shu-mai, pan-seared gyoza, dumplings dropped in chicken soup, and more. I can say with some authority that the gnocchi at Massimo's are certainly the best I've had in Maine, and equal to any I've had anywhere. They were consistently tender and served in a bolognese sauce the likes of which I had never eaten before. The sauce was flavorful, but not heavy as is sometimes the case with meat sauce. It was well balanced and bright with fresh tomato, garlic, and herbs. My only regret is that it is so good that I may never order anything else.

Though neither of us was hungry, we couldn't let the evening pass without trying some dessert, and thank goodness we did. "Tiramisu" literally means "pick me up," and this dessert lifted us both to the clouds. Though sometimes this dessert can be a bit heavy, with too many lady fingers and too much alcohol, the sweetened mascarpone of Massimo's tiramisu was light and airy, and the lady fingers were soft, but not wet. A hint of anise was a very nice touch. We also enjoyed a clementine sorbetto, which captured the essence of the fruit, and an espresso gelato so light and creamy that it tasted almost like frozen espresso mousse.

In brief: Massimo's Cucina Italiana offers fine Italian dining in an unpretentious, gracious environment. All of the staff are knowledgable, friendly, and accommodating, and the food is, for the most part, excellent. I regret that they take reservations only for parties of seven or more, which makes it difficult for smaller parties to make plans to meet there. I suggest that you stop by and put your name in, then go for a drink at any of the other fine local establishments while you wait.

Food: ★★★★☆ Ambience: ★★★☆☆ Service: ★★★☆☆

Check, please: $$$$

Massimo's Cucina Italiana

96 Hammond Street,

Bangor, Maine

(207) 945-5600

Cucumber Salsa on Toast

This is a recipe for a super-simple, light summer meal with appeal that couldn't be tastier and easy to make if you don't mind taking a shortcut.

First, slice a whole-grain baguette on the bias, then brush it with some extra-virgin olive oil, sprinkle it with freshly ground salt and pepper, and broil it for a few minutes. Watch it carefully so it doesn't burn! Once they're golden, take the pieces of toast of of the oven and put them on a rack to cool. Of course, you could add some garlic if you wanted, but I don't think it's necessary once you see what goes on top. I did try smoked sea salt, too, once, but the smokiness got lost in the salsa. Hmmm . . . maybe I'll use

some bacon fat rendered from some Benton's hickory smoked bacon the next time I make it! That should make this dish even MORE irresistable.

Next, peel a fresh cucumber (the fresher the better!), slice it into 8ths, and use a paring knife to remove the seeds while keeping as much of the flesh as possible. Chop those slices large enough so the flavor of the

cucumber doesn't get lost in the salsa, but small enough so it will blend well and spoon easily.

Finally, mix the chopped cucumber with salsa, and spread it on the pieces of toast. The result is crunchy, crispy, fresh, and healthy! What salsa, you ask? Well, this is where you can get creative. Anyone who likes gazpacho can easily imagine mixing the cucumber into traditional tomato salsa, but the first time I did this, I mixed it with some

mango-peach salsa from the deli department at my local supermarket. Oh, was it good—salty, sweet, and voluptuous! The next time I made it, I used roasted garlic salsa, and I added some chopped chicken-apple sausage to give it a bit of sweetness. It was a hit, too!

What do I love about this dish? It's delicious, so healthy, and easy to make. It's a great offering for a potluck, too, and nobody has to know that you didn't make the salsa from scratch!

Enjoy!

Miyake Restaurant, Portland, Maine

In 2004, I graduated from the University of Hawai'i at Manoa and accepted a position at Hakuoh University, a private University in Oyama-shi, Japan. At the time, I'd had little experience with Japanese food, and I wasn't sure what to expect in the "Land of the Rising Sun." Lucky for me, a fabulous izakaya run by a charming couple from Kyoto was a short walk from my house, and I dined there a few times each week learning about Japanese cuisine. It was traditional pub food: fantastic soups, karaage, don katsu and katsu don, loads of bites on skewers, and all served with grace and charm. This restaurant, Yuzenya, set the bar high, and few of the restaurants I visited in Japan rose to the level, and only one has come close in Maine. That one is Miyake, not an izakaya, but a sushi restaurant with other dishes to please most palates.

According to the restaurant website, Masa Miyake opened a hole-in-the-wall restaurant in 2007. He quickly gained a loyal following, and since then, he has relocated, opened a second restaurant, Pai Men Miyake, and started a farm to provide a steady supply of high-quality meat and produce for his establishments.

Having already enjoyed a birthday lunch at Pai Men Miyake in the summer

of 2011, I waited eagerly for the chance to visit Miyake Restaurant and try it out for myself. Recently, I spent a couple hours there with friends and family, and I enjoyed the experience immensely. Let me tell you about it.

First, as is sometimes the case with Japanese restaurants, the exterior is understated with signage only near the door. This made it difficult for us to find the restaurant, but, as I was on foot, I found it quickly. I waited outside to welcome my friends, and once they arrived, we went in and were seated promptly at a table near the front. The decor is understated and beautiful, and the restaurant is filled with dark wood, metal, stone, and numerous objects which reflect the Japanese appreciation for things one-of-a-kind. That's enough about that.

My friends and I ordered some appetizers for the table while waiting for the other guests to arrive. Among my favorites were the Yaki Buta, a disc of braised pork belly that melted in my mouth; Tuna 3-Way, traditional sashimi, tuna tartare, and marinated tuna, all of which were exquisite and unique; and the Kamo Tataki, duck breast.

After the rest of our party arrived, we ordered the rest of our lunch, including the crab sushi roll, the Salmon Lady, a selection of sashimi, salads, soups, and more. All of the food was delicious, but the highlight for me was the lobster roll, pictured to the left. The only challenge was that the pieces were quite large and difficult to eat with dignity—I either had to open wide or take it apart on the plate—but that was hardly a real concern. Anyone who knows me knows I have no problem opening my mouth and eating with gusto.

In brief: Miyake isn't cheap. Our lunch for five cost over $300 including beer and sake, but it was well worth it, and we were in the mood to splurge. There are lunch specials, but unless you eat like a bird, spending less than $25 each might be too limiting. We left stuffed to the gills (but didn't eat any gills!) with what was on the wholepart world-class cuisine. The staff were personable, knowledgeable, and friendly in the American tradition, not the Japanese.

This is a "First Impressions" review.

Food: ★★★★☆ Ambience: ★★★★☆ Service: ★★★☆☆

Check, please: $$$

Miyake Restaurant

468 Fore Street,

Portland, Maine

(207) 871-9170