Bambi vs. Lorena Bobbitt

China, Southern California No Responses »

Mar 052012

Deer penis soup and other Chinese delights
Hop Woo, Chinatown, Los Angeles

The simple yet unusual ingredients for deer penis soup

As any longtime readers of Trippy Food will attest, I would walk out of brain surgery to try one of Chef Lupe Liang’s amazing and exotic dishes at Hop Woo in L.A.’s Chinatown. Chef Liang is a veritable Willy Wonka, creating magical concoctions featuring Noah’s share of the animal kingdom, so when Eddie Lin recently asked me to be the Hop Woo goodwill ambassador for Linda Flood (writer for Swedish magazine, Vagabond) I accepted with dignity and grace. Lupe hinted that he was going to make something special for the occasion, and based on my previous visits I couldn’t begin to imagine what that might entail.

Menu item #24: Duck Tongue with Maggi sauce

As usual, Chef Liang pulled out all the stops. Upon arrival, there was already a dish of savory duck feet cooked in soy sauce on the table; eating duck feet requires the same laborious process as with chicken feet to extract the meat using intricate dental maneuvering. There seems to be less flesh on the bone than Daffy’s barnyard counterpart, so the challenge is to chew into the webbing between the toes. There is a time intensive process for preparing duck feet where the bones are removed leaving the flesh completely intact, but that method was not deployed here, resulting in us working for our supper. Slightly easier to consume, a plate of crispy coated and fried shrimp with spicy salt went down well if one is inclined to eat their shrimp shell and all (a practice I would not advise for steamed or boiled shrimp). The spice and salinity were muted but enough to keep me going back for sips of my Tsingtao and wondering if perhaps Bubba Blue forgot to mention something.

Black chicken w/winter worm and summer grass flower soup

Lupe shared with us that almost all of the items he was preparing are featured on their extensive menu; the once mysterious “secret menu” is now largely published in the magnum opus that is the book-length menu available in print and on-line. Menu item #C12 (frog with spicy salt) was delightful; prepared in similar fashion to the shrimp, the frog was cut into nugget-sized pieces, dredged through the same complementary batter as the shrimp and then fried with chiles. The meat was tender and juicy and the preparation was the perfect entry-level excursion into eating the amphibian athlete – it didn’t resemble the animal in any possible way. As if to remind us what we were eating, our server Jason was dispatched to the kitchen, arriving back at the table a moment later with a colossal live bullfrog that had to be restrained from leaping onto the table; I don’t think he recognized his flash-fried family member on the plate. I was pleased to have another go at one of my favorite dishes at Hop Woo – menu item #24: duck tongue with Maggi sauce. This was my third outing with the avian mouthpiece and it didn’t disappoint; I’m almost afraid to try the dish elsewhere and face disappointment based on Eddie Lin’s experience with the odd delicacy.

The sweet, dark and mysterious deer penis soup

Chef Liang followed up the savory and salty appetizers with a barrage of some of his most exotic and widely varied soups. The first bowls to arrive were old favorites that didn’t have the initial shock value, but still raised a few eyebrows from the Vagabond Magazine contingency – menu items #45 (beef pizzle/penis), and #C38 (armadillo), both in Chinese herbal broth. These drew surprise, specifically from photographer Anna Schori who was shocked that both the armadillo meat and the bull penis didn’t taste as off-putting as she would have imagined. I was particularly intrigued when Lupe had a large cauldron brought out and stated that it was soup featuring black chicken. Black chicken (also known as silkie) is an unusual yard bird that has black skin, flesh and even bones; the species is said to benefit kidney and liver problems as well as containing amino acids that are said to increase the production of blood cells and hemoglobin. Lupe explained that from a Chinese apothecarial standpoint, the silkie is beneficial to women who are pregnant – all I know is that the soup was stocked with fresh ingredients such as wood ear fungus, and orange fungus referred to as “winter worm/summer grass flower” (which is a parasitic fungus that grows out of a moth caterpillar) and chunks of the dark chicken meat. The taste of the chicken was somewhat milder and sweeter than your average grocery store variety, and since it was chopped it was interesting to extract small bits of bone from each spoonful.

Menu item #C31: Lamb testicles stir fried w/onion and peppers

It was a pleasure to sample Hop Woo’s shark fin soup (menu item #36) once again before the California state ban takes effect; the brew was thick and bubbling hot with the bamboo sprouts and shark having more firm texture than the last bowl, the gilded trivet creating a regal presentation at the table. The last soup was Chef Liang’s pride and joy, a rare dish that few get to enjoy – deer penis soup. The soup came to the table in a covered pumpkin-shaped ceramic tureen that added an air of mystery to the contents; Lupe brought out a plate with the dried ingredients used in the creation of the dish, including wolfberries, “dragon eyes” (longan fruit), red dates, ho shou wu (an herb resembling thick twigs), dark black cao radix that looked like chunks of burnt rubber, paper-like strips of ribbed du zhong (eucommia bark), and the pièce de résistance – Bambi’s manhood. Initially the brew was touted as an energy tonic (it was consumed by Chinese athletes at the 2008 Summer Olympics), but as with most Chinese herbs each of the ingredients had additional medicinal purposes. When the cover was lifted off the tureen, the soup was a black, watery pool that was so dark that we couldn’t see any of the secrets held deep inside. The soup ladled into bowls looked like coffee; because of the dried fruit used it had a sweet aroma and an equally sweet taste, and seemed more appropriate as a hot drink than a soup.

Hop Woo's signature house special lobster, menu item #S1

Once the soup courses were finished, Chef Liang brought out more substantial dishes (menu item #C31) – the first was what is often referred to as “lamb eggs”, although they are the southernmost orbs that hang behind the male lamb. One of our guests referred to the lamb progeny as Rocky Mountain Oysters, although Catskill Mountain Oysters would probably be more appropriate. The testes were sliced into medallions, the largest of which had the diameter of a half-dollar with a firm texture and the appearance of a dark water chestnut. These imparted a nutty flavor (pun intended) without any undercarriage funk with the flavor enhanced by the yellow and green onion, bell pepper, chiles, and basil they were stir fried with. More traditional meat items included stir-fried filet mignon strips with asparagus in a black pepper sauce (menu item #86) and Secret Menu item #5 – deer meat stir fried with leeks and star melon, a flavorful favorite.

Menu item #C12: Frog w/spicy salt

Just when we assumed there was no food left in the kitchen a platter emerged from the swinging door that looked like the massacre of a lobster village; several neatly bisected lobster were laid in Esther Williams poses on the serving dish, nestled in a bed of stir-fried noodles with their claws neatly arranged at the rim. The house special lobster (menu item #S1) is Hop Woo’s specialty and with the superb taste and incredible price tag (under $10) one has to wonder why they even have to put up large banners advertising it. I can’t even begin to deconstruct the sauce, although garlic and chiles were certainly present in the thick gravy clinging on to the tender and sweet exposed meat. For those imagining that there’s a freezer with these pre-cooked crustaceans in the back, the tank of wistful-looking lobsters over the table is a dead giveaway that they’re beyond fresh.

Menu item #D33: the colossal Mixed Fruit Ice Cream Plate

Despite our Roberto Duran pleas of “Mo mas!” and insistence from Chef Liang that we were done, a mammoth bowl was placed in the middle of the table that was as colorful as it was formidable. The behemoth Mixed Fruit Ice Cream Plate (menu item #D33) was a festive frozen concoction of Himalayan proportions; tiny cubes of fruit gelatin lay strewn across a bed of shaved ice with dark grass jelly and white coconut jelly providing contrast to the brightly-hued field. This was topped with 6 huge scoops of strawberry ice cream that played pyramid base to a couple of mammalian scoops of mango ice cream, each strategically topped with a maraschino cherry half; the whole playground was then drizzled with a coconut sauce. The grass and coconut jellies played off the other sweet ingredients well and although we couldn’t be faulted for trying, we had already hit a food wall, throwing in the towel and going down for the count.

A visit to Hop Woo is always an adventure and I think Linda and Anna may have walked away like kids after their first trip to the circus. With every visit I wonder how Chef Liang can possibly top the previous culinary experience, and yet he always manages to deliver the goods. If your curiosity gets the better of you, come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination.

Hop Woo
845 N. Broadway Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90012
GPS Coordinates: 34°3’48.88″N 118°14’16.05″W

See images from Val’s latest visit to Hop Woo in Chinatown / Los Angeles, California

NOTE: This cost for this meal was provided by the restaurant. The content provided in this article was not influenced whatsoever by Hop Woo.

Dollars To Donuts

USA 6 Responses »

Feb 222012

The Trippy Food Doughnut Extravaganza

The Big Two: Dunkin' Donuts and Krispy Kreme

The ubiquitous doughnut is the staple of office meetings across the country, Homer Simpson’s superfood, and makes all the cops in the doughnut shops go, “Way-o, way-o”; it seems as though the lowly ring of fried batter has been around as far back as anyone can remember, although its lineage can only be loosely traced about a century and a half. For the sake of keeping this tome down to about the length of War and Peace, let’s disregard Mr. Donut’s cousins the beignet, zeppole, bagel, fried dough, and yes, even the elusive cruller, and focus on the fried wheel of joy instantly recognizable by billions across America and around the globe. In its formative years, the doughnut got its name from literally being a ball (nut) of fried dough. It wasn’t until the mid-nineteenth century that the inner tube-shaped snack got its current shape; legend has it that teenage ship hand Hanson Gregory punched holes in the dough to allow them to cook all the way through (at that time, to prevent food-borne illness harbored by the uncooked center of the dough ball). By the turn of the last century, the doughnut was a comfort food with widespread appeal; in an effort to afford American soldiers in World War I the comfort of home, Salvation Army volunteers Ensign Margaret Sheldon and Adjutant Helen Purviance devised a plan to make and serve doughnuts to the troops in Europe. In 1938, The Salvation Army instituted National Doughnut Day as a fundraising event to commemorate those who risked life and limb to provide sinkers to the doughboys; the day is still recognized, now held on the first Friday of June.

Donuts. Is there anything they can't do? (at the Burbank Kwik-E Mart)

It’s hard to throw a stale French twist and not hit a doughnut shop from mom-and-pop one-offs through the big dog franchises; of the latter, there appear to be two heavyweights remaining as last men standing: Krispy Kreme and Dunkin’ Donuts. It could be argued that Canada’s Tim Horton’s weighs in as a major player; even though they have cornered the Canadian fast-food market, it’s impossible to find their dough pucks and signature coffee very far south of the border. Krispy Kreme is the senior citizen of the donut realm, having been founded by businessman Vernon Rudolph in Winston-Salem, North Carolina way back in 1937. Legend has it that Krispy Kreme was one of the few products Elvis Presley endorsed by name, proving that the South (and the yeast) would rise again. Krispy Kreme only expanded nationally near the end of the 20th century with a great deal of their popularity based on their “Hot Now” concept. While driving by a Krispy Kreme, if the neon “Hot Now” light is on, that means that doughnuts are coming hot off a conveyor system that would make Henry Ford proud; visitors can watch as their signature raised doughnuts canoe en masse down a river of hot oil, through a shimmering waterfall of liquid sugar glaze, and around the bend on steel rollers where they’re snatched up by employees and served hot to customer. Back when Americans enjoyed a healthy economy workers would offer single hot doughnuts to customers free, but that practice appears to have waned.

The conveyor of hot doughnuts at Krispy Kreme

Krispy Kreme appeared poised to proliferate the Northeast with their doughnut show, but they did not anticipate the fierce brand loyalty of customers of Quincy, Massachusetts-based Dunkin’ Donuts. Now a household name, Dunkin’ Donuts began its life as a single store called Open Kettle in 1948, expanding with the Dunkin’ Donuts name by founder William Rosenburg in 1950. Although they can now be found worldwide, their stronghold is still the Northeast (specifically the Boston area). There’s a regional anecdote about a person giving directions that include turning right at Dunkin’ Donuts, with the response being, “What Dunkin’ Donuts? There’s one on every corner!” The original Open Kettle site still stands today, and although it has been modernized inside as a fully functional Dunkin’ Donuts, they are the only store to boast a sign on the roof that closely mimics the original logo. When Krispy Kreme had the cojones to open a store in The Pru (Boston’s Prudential Center) in 2004, Bostonians sent them and their lackluster coffee packing; they no longer have a presence in New England. Dunkies (or DD’s as it is also affectionately called) has a similar problem in the west; an attempt to establish several stores in Sacramento, California met with limited interest. Dunkin’ Donuts recently announced that they would soon be opening franchises in California, and most Massachusetts expatriates (me included) are watching the trade papers with bated breath to greet the international franchise. Dunkin’ Donuts stores can be found in more than 30 countries worldwide, and each country puts their local own spin on the flavors of donuts and the way the coffee that is synonymous with the name is served (in Boston, asking for a “regular” gets you a coffee with milk and two sugars).

Kane's red velvet doughnut

Tucked deep into Dunkin’ Donuts territory, Kane’s Donuts has been churning out sinkers from a converted house is Saugus, Massachusetts since 1955. For decades, Kane’s was a quiet little secret; to date, they still make fresh donuts during limited hours from their single location but after garnering notice from the Travel Channel they have become a doughnut pilgrimage destination. Although Kane’s doughnuts roll out in a variety of often unusual flavors (think red velvet and Boston cream pie), their claim to fame is actually their coffee roll, a 2-pound behemoth that could feed a small city. The light and airy roll is a BFD (baked fresh daily) confection that has the bread-like texture of panettone; dusted with cinnamon sugar this colossus is best shared with others, but eat it sparingly so that you can save room for their superior doughnuts.

World-famous Randy's Donuts in Inglewood CA

While Kane’s doughnuts are your regulation sized sinkers, you’ll have to travel to the West Coast to find the King Kong of donuts, although sinking your teeth into these would be a bad idea. The Los Angeles area can safely be given the title of Land of The Giants as there are multiple shops that feature a ginormous doughnut as part of their architecture. In the 1950s, a chain of doughnut shops were built under the collective name of Big Donut; each featured a gunite and steel doughnut on the roof that measured a respectable 23 foot diameter. Of the 10 stores under the Big Donut umbrella, only four stores remain – the original store (Kindle’s Donuts in Los Angeles); Bellflower Bagels in Bellflower; Dale’s Donuts in Compton; and, the star of stage and screen opened in 1953, Randy’s Donuts in Inglewood. Randy’s has become the most familiar and iconic of the Big Donut stores, in part due to its location on the crest of a hill overlooking Interstate 405 and being in the direct flight path of airplanes landing at LAX. The location is featured in scores of movies and videos with the giant doughnut serving as a seat for Robert Downey, Jr.’s Tony Stark to polish off a box of doughnuts in Iron Man II and as a landmark in Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.” music video. Due to its cinematic celebrity, there’s usually a line at Randy’s and it’s not uncommon to find owners and brothers Ron and Larry Weintraub greeting customers and asking where they’re from. An oversized doughnut on the roof alone isn’t enough to get repeat customers, but donuts are handmade throughout the day (they are open 24 hours) and are every bit as good as you would expect from a half-century old doughnut shop.

Possibly the only drive-through doughnut

If you expect to get up-close and personal with your giant doughnut, I recommend a drive out to La Puente, California, home of The Donut Hole. The second in a chain of 5 stores, the La Puente location opened in 1968 as the only store featuring doughnuts in its architecture – each end of the shop is capped off by a partially buried doughnut where you literally drive through the hole. The Donut Hole is the only store remaining of the original 5, and they keep unusual hours (they close for several hours while they replenish their supply). There’s not a wide variety of flavors and the doughnuts trend towards the diminutive, but where else can you go where a doughnut goes through you after you go through a doughnut?

The bar is set - Voodoo Doughnut's maple bacon bar

For the ultimate doughnut experience, a visit to Portland, Oregon is in order; the city that vows to “Keep Portland Weird” does exactly that at Voodoo Doughnuts. The name has become synonymous with Portland and visits from the Travel Channel’s Donut Paradise and Anthony Bourdain have only helped catapult Voodoo Doughnuts into the annals of doughnut stardom and legend, no small feat for a quirky little doughnut-only shop that’s been around only since 2003. They have recently remodeled and expanded their original flagstaff store and have opened two other shops, another in Portland and one in Eugene, Oregon. Founders Kenneth “Cat Daddy” Pogson and Tres Shannon traveled to southern California to study the art of doughnut making and turned it on its ear with a shrine to the doughnut that is as irreverent and bizarre as their offerings; take, for example, their mottos (“The magic is in the hole”, and “Where Good Things Come in Pink Boxes”) as well as merchandise that can be purchased online or in-store including pink Voodoo Doughnut underwear. Their doughnuts are every bit as quirky as the decor, from the Voodoo Doll (a voodoo doll-shaped donut filled with raspberry jam and pierced in the heart with a pretzel needle that allows the doughnut to “bleed”) to Captain my Captain (a raised doughnut topped with Captain Crunch; visualize the Cock-N-Balls, a cream-filled chocolate frosted doughnut shaped exactly like you think it is. In addition to the standard fare of raised and cake doughnuts toppings include bubble gum dust; Tang; lemonade and ice tea powder (on the Arnold Palmer); Froot Loops; grape dust; and M & Ms (on the Marshall Matters – yeah, we get it). Although Voodoo Doughnuts did not invent the maple bacon doughnut, they have raised it to new heights with the colossal Maple Bacon Bar. This raised doughnut rectangular monster is topped with a thick, sugary maple glaze and topped with three crunchy strips of bacon. The doughnut is painfully sweet, but after munching on it for a while it takes on the flavor of a pancake breakfast (sans eggs); trust me when I tell you that it will be the only thing you eat for the rest of the afternoon.

A selection of freshly made doughnuts at Nickel Diner

A strong contender in the battle for maple bacon doughnut superiority can be found at Los Angeles’ Nickel Diner. The small restaurant has a throwback style to it; not like the sleek, gleaming art deco diners from the 1950s, but more of the feel of a place where a commuter would stop in for a sinker and a cuppa joe or a greasy breakfast – the difference here being Chef Monica May’s exceptional take on basic diner fare. Although they are a full service kitchen, they are best known for their fresh, homemade doughnuts, in particular their red velvet and the aforementioned maple bacon doughnuts. As opposed to Voodoo’s gargantuan Maple Bacon Bar, Nickel Diner’s entry is your regulation-sized raised doughnut with a sticky, almost pure maple syrup glaze that glues the fresh crumbles of bacon to the doughnut like porcine jewels in a dough crown. The flavor of the bacon and maple transform the doughnut itself into a simple media used to hold the bounty from the Great White North, and is nothing short of delicious; the smaller size is a blessing in disguise as you won’t find yourself scampering across the ceiling in a sugar high gone wrong afterwards.

The colossal maple bacon donut at Texas Donut

One example of the maple bacon concept gone horribly awry is available at many of the western county fairs in the form of Texas Donuts’ maple bacon doughnut. While still a raised ring, this hefty confection is about the size of a scooter tire, not a doughnut to try to tackle yourself unless you have a death wish or are challenging Adam Richman. If the latter is the case, why not double your pleasure / double your hospital bill with the eponymous Texas Donut, a plain glazed raised doughnut that is undoubtedly off the charts in calories. As long as you’re at the county fair, have someone wheel you over to the ubiquitous Chicken Charlie’s where you can get yourself a variation of the infamous Luther Burger – a cheeseburger sandwiched between two Krispy Kreme doughnuts. At Chicken Charlie’s, the cheeseburger has been replaced with a fried chicken filet and the Krispy Kreme jelly-filled doughnut is halved to serve as a bun. To be fair, the sandwich doesn’t suck; somehow the jelly works with the chicken and the glaze isn’t enough to overpower it, but rest assured you’ll hear your arteries harden with every bite.

The doughnut that made Boise famous (really Salt Lake City)

At the start of this article I promised not to visit the doughnut’s foreign relatives; however, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention its American cousins, which, while still technically doughnuts have adapted variations in the preparation or ingredients. One of the strangest hybrids is the historic Spudnut. After enjoying potato-based doughnuts in Germany, brothers Al and Bob Pelton spent hours of laborious experimentation with powders and flakes before settling on a milled potato flour that gave them the texture and taste they were looking for. Their first store opened in 1940 and soon they were licensing franchises across the country, providing sacks of their patented potato flour. The corporation was sold several times before the parent company folded in the early 1980s. To date, there are 35 Spudnut stores remaining open, and although they have diversified and provide breakfast and sandwiches, the draw is still their potato-based raised donuts (be forewarned – the stores also hawk cake donuts, but they don’t contain potato flour). On first bite, the donuts are unremarkable (they have the taste and consistency of a decent raised doughnut), but there’s a faint hint of potato that stays on your tongue similar to eating potato flakes right out of the box.

(fōnuts)' blueberry Earl Grey doughnut - astoundingly delicious

Two single-store Los Angeles area doughnut shops deservedly earn the title of doughnut bakery: (fōnuts) and Beach City Baked Donuts. (fōnuts) was opened in the summer of 2011 by Nancy Truman and helmed by pastry chef Waylynn Lucas. The concept is simple – the doughnuts are never fried; they are either baked (as most of the cake donuts are) or in the case of the raised doughnuts, baked and steamed. Every one of their doughnuts use natural ingredients, and Lucas has created many to be gluten-free or vegan. While it could be argued that they’re lower in calories since they’re not immersed in fat, you could get sidetracked in to thinking this is dietary health food – keep in mind that their maple bacon doughnut is made with real pig and maple syrup. The doughnuts are made with the highest quality ingredients, and they aren’t just good – they’re astounding. (fōnuts) was hyped-up after opening, and I anticipated the disappointment I’d encountered many times before at restaurants armed with local celebrity chefs until I tried their blueberry Earl Grey doughnut. This moist, crumbly ring of cake was sweet without being overpowering; the thin, hardened glaze was naturally purple from the inclusion of blueberries and each bite was chock full of still-fresh crushed blueberries that put the finest blueberry muffin to shame. It was without a doubt the best doughnut (OK, fauxnut) I’d ever eaten, hands-down. At close to four bucks a doughnut, you won’t be bringing a box of these to your church meeting but one of these and a good cup of coffee (which is also available) have the makings of an exemplary laid-back morning.

The menu as art at Beach City Baked Donuts

If doughnuts with foreign intrigue are your bag than the baked doughnuts at Beach City Baked Donuts in Redondo Beach is a healthy alternative with Asian flair. The staff is quick to point out that their oil-free confections are dripping with Japanese flair; display case has a series of square plates geometrically arranged on a bottom-lit Lucite panel with each containing a single labeled doughnut. The doughnuts with fruit mixed in have razor-fine sections cut out to reveal their interiors, their flavors labeled and displayed like art in a museum – rum raisin, choco chip, cinnamon, golden soy, “coco”, coconut, honey drip, and uji-kin. I chose the honey drip (their version of the plain cake doughnut) and the uji-kin (filled with mung bean and dusted with green tea powder); the doughnuts are individually sealed in clear plastic bags to go. The woman at the counter asked if I would be eating the uni-kin there or taking it to go, and when I asked for it to travel she suggested waiting until I was ready to eat it, heating the doughnut for 5 to 10 seconds in the microwave and then applying packet of green powder. I felt like I had just scored some exotic smack and with my legendary dexterity, I managed to get the powder all over my desk. The doughnuts were a little on the dry side, but they were sweet and had a nice, fluffy cake consistency. On a side note, I was able to snag a box of Pocky to satisfy my desire to try the chocolate-covered, matchstick-thin breadsticks for the first time.

The Donut Man's fresh, delicous strawberry doughnut

One purveyor has built a reputation not so much for the doughnuts themselves but for what he stuffs inside them. Jim Nakano, The Donut Man of Glendora, California has been packing his potato flour raised-and-glazed with a generous fistful of strawberries since 1974. Since only fresh strawberries are used, these treats are only available when strawberries are in season; in order to provide fruit-filled doughnuts for a longer period of time, The Donut Man also makes a peach doughnut when that fruit is available. The filling is so fresh that the berries are still firm with some teeth to them; the occasional slight bitterness of one straggler that isn’t quite ripe is enough of an indication that they haven’t been allowed to sit. Their green heads are lopped off, after which they are coated with a thick, red, sugary glaze – these are force-fed to the doughnut which has been sliced lengthwise about three-quarters of the way across. I discovered the hard way that these obese confections defy being eaten by hand; the supplied plastic fork is a necessity, and if you decide to indulge, it might help to ask for a plastic knife as well. The doughnut itself isn’t overly sweet and the thick, spongy flesh wraps lovingly around the berries to make each bite reminiscent of strawberry shortcake.

I realize I’ve neglected the legendary yellow raised puffs from Texas’ Round Rock Donuts, the now-defunct Swirls Bakery in Omaha, Nebraska (regarded as the originator of the maple bacon doughnut) and many more quirky or outstanding doughnut venues, but there simply isn’t enough bandwidth to cover all the sweet, sticky dough wheels worthy of mention, and all this doughnut talk is giving me a craving for a Bismarck – ich möchte ein Berliner!

Dunkin’ Donuts
543 Southern Artery
Quincy, MA 02169
GPS Coordinates: 42°15’10.45″N 70°59’34.29″W

Kane’s Donuts
120 Lincoln Avenue
Saugus, MA 01906
GPS Coordinates: 42°27’11.06″N 70°59’29.42″W

The Donut Hole
15300 Amar Road
La Puente, CA 91744
GPS Coordinates: 34° 2’13.37″N 117°57’5.89″W

Randy’s Donuts
805 West Manchester Boulevard
Inglewood, CA 90301
GPS Coordinates: 33°57’42.27″N 118°22’13.40″W

Nickel Diner
524 South Main Street
Los Angeles, CA 90013
GPS Coordinates: 34° 2’45.54″N 118°14’56.25″W

(fōnuts)
8104 West 3rd Street
Los Angeles, CA 90048
GPS Coordinates: 34° 4’19.18″N 118°21’58.15″W

Beach City Baked Donuts
501 N Pacific Coast Highway
Redondo Beach, CA 90277
GPS Coordinates: 33°50’58.03″N 118°23’19.69″W

Voodoo Doughnuts
22 Southwest 3rd Avenue
Portland, OR 97204
GPS Coordinates: 45°31’21.23″N 122°40’23.31″W

The Donut Man
915 E. Route 66
Glendora, CA 91740
GPS Coordinates: 34° 7’44.05″N 117°50’59.13″W

See images of various doughnut shrines Val has visited and their fried, baked and steamed products

Video: Val’s visit to a renovated and expanded Voodoo Doughnut in Portland, Oregon:

Soba Damn Good

Japan, Southern California No Responses »

Feb 172012

Common Grains Soba Pop-Up
Soba-Ya, Torrance CA

Fresh, uncooked, handmade soba

Growing up in an Italian household indoctrinated me into the diverse world of pasta from anellini to ziti; however, my experience with Asian pasta has been largely limited to lo mein and Korean glass noodles (I hardly think American chop suey counts). I recently had an opportunity to use my noodle and learn about Japanese soba at Common Grains’ soba pop-up hosted by Torrance, California’s newly-opened Soba-Ya restaurant. While the restaurant’s menu featured an ample offering of Japanese noodle and rice dishes, I wanted to order from the limited menu of handmade soba noodles prepared on behalf of Common Grains, a Japanese cultural program founded as a joint venture between Shinmei (a Japanese miller and rice distributor based in Kobe, Japan) and local soba artisan, Sonoko Sakai. The soba (Japanese buckwheat noodles) are made from stone-ground grain, handmade and lovingly prepared in Shinmei-owned Soba-Ya’s kitchen by Chef Mutsuko Soma.

Chilling the soba prior to serving

Common Grains is sponsored by the Japanese Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry’s “Cool Japan” program, which introduces industries to a wider audience with a focus on promoting Japanese culture worldwide. In addition to preparing several soba dishes, Common Grains also brings their traveling exhibition to Soba-Ya featuring a variety of Japanese foods and ingredients, as well as utensils and cookware with a focus on sustainability and education. At Soba-Ya (as with their other area pop-ups), Sakai conducted several dashi workshops where guests experience and participate in the creation of various preparations of dashi (a soup and cooking stock used in a variety of dishes including miso soup and noodle broths); similar workshops will be held at other hosted locations in the near future.

Soba with mushroom and white truffle tsuyu

I had the pleasure of watching Chef Soma prepare the soba in the kitchen – the process is fascinating, with each step serving a particular purpose. Soba noodles have several seasonal preparations; in the winter they are typically served hot in soup, while they are prepared cold as a popular, almost refreshing dish in the heat of the Japanese summer. Naturally in the frigid, Arctic air of the Southern California winter Soma prepared the cold variety, an almost ritualistic endeavor requiring precise timing; each order is made individually. The fresh noodles look almost like old, worn shoelaces – slightly gray and with a grainy, almost fuzzy appearance; a single portion of the flat noodles are placed in a steel basket and then immersed in a roiling bath of foamy water. At the sound of the bell, the noodles come out fighting (literally – the cooking time is regulated to the second by a timer); they’re placed in a basket in the sink under cool running water while they are massaged by the chef. In addition to cooling them down and halting the cooking process, the brisk scrub also removes the excess starch from the noodles to improve the taste. After the cool-down, the soba is then placed in another steel basket and plunged into a frigid bath of ice water briefly after which the excess water is vigorously shaken out by hand. The chilled noodles are transferred to a zaru (a flat, plate-like woven basket) for delivery to the table and any tsuyu sauce for dipping is prepared to accompany the dish.

Adding the sobayu to the remainder of the tsuyu

We tried both of the featured sobas – one with a hot tsuyu made with a variety of mushrooms cooked in dashi with a touch of white truffle oil, the other with a cold walnut sauce. The noodles had the perfect texture – not soggy, not too chewy – and had a sweet, almost nutty flavor. There’s no delicate way to eat noodles, and asking for a fork and tablespoon would most likely result in being ushered out of the restaurant; if your sensibilities cause you to recoil in disgust to hear noodles slapping against lips, the breathy sound of inhaling the noodles, or the sight of the pasta dangling from diners’ faces, you ought to rethink your culinary adventure. The combination of the soba and the sauce with firm bits of mushroom created delicious dance in my face with each raise of the chopsticks. Our server brought a tea pot to the table, which I at first mistook for a hot accompanying beverage, but she informed us that the hot, milky fluid was in fact sobayu, the thickened water the soba was cooked in. We were instructed to pour this into the bowls of tsuyu and drink the result, creating a veritable liquid soba.

The Common Grains traveling exhibition

The pop-up only runs through February 21, and since the restaurant is relatively small, reservations are recommended. After that date, you’ll still be able to enjoy soba and other Japanese specialties at Soba-Ya, although you’ll have to hunt down the next pop-up and dashi workshop from Common Grains’ website. If you haven’t tried soba, this is the perfect introduction to the Japanese dish in a social situation, and a nice way to pasta time.

Soba-Ya
1757 West Carson Street
Torrance, CA 90501
GPS Coordinates: 33°49’55.52″N 118°18’41.43″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s visit to the Common Grains soba pop-up at Soba-Ya in Torrance, CA

Stranger In A Strange Land

Southern California No Responses »

Feb 102012

Disneyland
Anaheim, California

The iconic and familiar Sleeping Beauty Castle

The Grand Canyon; Niagara Falls; The Space Needle; The Statue of Liberty – iconic symbols of what makes America a vast land of breathtaking wonder, and yet many Americans only dream about visiting these sites. I have had the privilege and pleasure to have experienced most of this country’s defining landmarks, an adventure that few can boast – so how is it that virtually man, woman and child in these United States have been to the place commercially referred to as “The Happiest Place on Earth” while my closest encounter was driving past the kingdom of Der Maus on Interstate 5? Well, my friends, all that changed recently as old Walt popped this middle-aged man’s Disneyland cherry, offering me the unique opportunity to partake in this animatronic slice of Americana with a view from the eyes of an outsider.

Main Street, Disneyland by day

I had always considered the prospect of relinquishing my cash to an empire built on a harem of animated teenage girls in need of rescue in a gross abuse of revisionist history just plain Goofy. I found the crass commercialism offensive and couldn’t see how adults could walk away from there laden with arms full of Mickey Mouse sweatshirts and the infamous and ridiculous skull cap with plastic mouse ears. On the other side of the coin, I’d visited Amarillo’s Cadillac Ranch and the world’s largest ball of twine in Cawker City, Kansas and I couldn’t fairly, and with any semblance of objectivity, call myself a road tripper without biting the corn dog bullet and taking in the Magic Kingdom. My first foray into mousedom was back in the mid-1990s when I visited Epcot Center in Florida. The giant clothed and upright animals were at a minimum and I found it to be a somewhat cultural experience at the international pavilions (save for the overpriced and substandard quality food), but I knew the day would come when I’d have to put my prejudices aside and visit Disneyland. I never would have dreamed that the journey would last half a century.

Dining in Tomorrowland, devoid of astronaut ice cream

I wisely visited on a weekday during the spring when school was in session and instead of letting Jiminy Cricket be my guide, I let my child-at-heart wife Claudia lead the tour. After entering by foot from Disneyland Drive, I remarked how many megastores brimming with merchandise peppered the park before I realized we hadn’t yet entered the Magic Kingdom. Once past the low-tech sign harkening back to the late 50s and under the bridge at Main Street Station, we had entered the realm of the whitewashed mouse. Main Street has been engineered as a smaller-scale row of Hollywood façades made to look like someone’s idea of a Victorian small town U.S.A; if you managed to get past the megastores without purchasing souvenirs, Main Street has you covered. The teeming masses yearning to breathe milled up the pavement dodging mini-fire trucks gaily festooned in their finest Disney casualwear, stopping for the occasional ice cream cone or cotton candy.

Abraham Lincoln - statesman, President and robot

The first thing that caught my eye was a tiny theater with the words “Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln” on the marquee. Having the rest of the day to kill, we opted to sit in the plush theater seats for the presentation. When a narrated hand-painted slide presentation began depicting Abraham Lincoln’s life, I recall thinking that surely the success of The Lion King put enough coin in Walt’s pocket to afford moving animation; after the “film” the curtains opened to reveal a seated wax figure of Honest Abe, equally as unimpressive – that is, until that robo-Republican bastard rose to his feet. The autonomatronic Lincoln was astounding; no jerky motions, and a smoother movement of the mouth to match the voice-over than Madonna’s Super Bowl performance. After the witnessing the brilliant display of technology used to bring Lincoln to life, I would have been content to go home at that point, especially after spotting the six-foot rodent of honor in tails emerging from City Hall. Unbelievably and thankfully, the only other time I saw Der Maus in the park was during the light and water show at the end of the night.

Tomorrowland was steampunk before they had a word for it

The iconic and familiar Sleeping Beauty Castle resides smack dab in the hub of the park, with Main Street as its largest spoke radiating outward. Here the old adage rings true – it looks bigger on television; it seems to be the go-to attraction where pre-adolescent girls can meet their princess role models and learn that if you’re pretty enough, a man will come along and take care of you for the rest of your life. To the right is the realization of the 1950s version of futuristic – Tomorrowland. Looking like a cross between the set of The Jetsons and a Jules Verne illustration, Tomorrowland was steampunk before there was a name for it. Rising up like a great flying saucer is the attraction that for decades has been the one to go on if you only go on one – Space Mountain. The exterior is simple, almost art deco, but as you queue up for the ride you realize that the graphics haven’t changed much since it opened in 1977 (the same year Star Wars hit the theaters). The interior looks like Discovery One from 2001: A Space Odyssey, and I have to hand it to ride’s designers, there’s a myriad of flashing, blinking and whirring objects to keep your mind off the fact that you’re in an hour long line. It was hard to be optimistic about the ride; after all I’d heard ad infinitum how Space Mountain is a roller coaster that runs in the dark – ooooh, so scary, a little pee just came out. That was before the ride started. The cars rocketed through the darkness at a breakneck speed and even though in the near non-existent light you could make out black beams and panels (some with astronomical projections) outfitted with millions of tiny lights, there was still the effect of warping through a worm hole or pushing the hammer down in the Millennium Falcon. In a nutshell, Space Mountain was one bad-ass mofo ride.

Don't eat the brown acid - it's bad.

Since I have the great fortune of not suffering from motion sickness or vertigo, Space Mountain was an exhilarating ride, but I have to admit that I almost blew my groceries at the next attraction: Captain EO. I have to wonder what Francis Ford Coppola was thinking making what looks like a bad mash up of Far Out Space Nuts and Flashdance, but understand Disney’s choice of bringing back the 3-D film post Michael Jackson’s demise. If you haven’t experienced this horrific testament to bad 80s hair and space Muppets it might be worth a peek for its nostalgic value, but personally it made me pray to God to protect Dennis De Young lest we be treated to “Kilroy Was Here” in 3-D. The Innoventions hall was a disappointment; I’m sure in the 1960s the technology on display was cutting edge but I was getting the feeling that I had put the Delorean in reverse. While a tricked out tree house is probably someone’s idea of a kickin’ man cave of the future, I’m guessing putting houses in old dead trees will the only real estate left undeveloped in the next hundred years.

Inside the Matterhorn

I suppose if I had small children I would have suited up and dove my way onto the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage; as a bystander it looks something that could be a lot of fun to enjoy with the wee tykes. I have to admit, I cracked a smile while passing the gulls on the buoy that would frequently break into their chorus of, “Mine! Mine!” Around the bend, the Matterhorn rises is all its fiberglass glory over the park, churning out waterfalls and looking like a mini-National Park. The hollow mountain is one of the few landmarks in the park visible from the Interstate, but it ironically invokes the image of the Paramount Pictures logo rather than Walt Disney or Buena Vista. The Matterhorn is Disneyland’s other self-contained roller coaster, offering more scenery than any other similar ride (save for Six Flags Fiesta Texas’ Rattler, a wooden roller coaster that runs through a quarry cave). The faux alpine scenery enhances the experience, making the rider feel like they’re anywhere but Anaheim, California although I could have done without the fiberglass ice caves inhabited by Yeti mannequins.

Strollers of the Apocalypse

I was able to withstand the temptation of visiting Toontown by telling myself that these are the lairs of The Mouse, The Duck and The Dog, and I was doing myself a favor and maximizing my adult enjoyment of the park; however, all that went to hell in a hand basket as I fell victim to the most insidious form of torture known to modern civilization – It’s a Small World. Dick Cheney in the deepest, darkest recesses of his black decrepit heart couldn’t come up with a more inhumane method of reducing a human brain to a quivering mass of jelly – it makes waterboarding seem like a dip in the hot tub after a massage. If any of you have not yet experienced this House of Pain, imagine a granny-slow cruise in rowboat with no oarsman that traverses the river Styx, replete with saccharine-sweet dolls that make single, jerking motions while dressed (or painted) in ethnic attire. During the entire cruise (which by my estimate took about seven or eight hours) that song, that mind-numbing anthem, repeated endlessly in a barrage of cherubic children’s voices over and over again, only changing in language as the boat wound its way through the international version of Dante’s 9 Circles of Hell. I am perplexed as to how any human adult can come off that ride and say they loved it – and yet they do. I imagine they love It’s a Small World the way Winston Smith loved Big Brother after emerging from Room 101.

BBQ, Disney-style

By the time we were released from Disney’s version of Abu Ghraib I had worked up an appetite and Claudia suggested we mosey on down to Frontierland and rustle us up some grub. This involved cutting across Fantasyland, which had the highest population of human Disney characters in the park, as well as what seasoned theme park adventurers call “the kiddie rides”: flying Dumbos, Mad Hatter tea cups – you get the picture. This is probably the least frenetic part of the park for the kids, and although Disney’s legendary corn dog can be found here, I found it best not to linger since I didn’t have grandchildren in tow. Frontierland boasts more artificial landscaping, this time with a rugged western California theme with the primary attraction being the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, a rickety jaunt on a mining rail car. Big Thunder Ranch features a dining area with all-you-can eat BBQ at plastic table clothed picnic tables; I wouldn’t put their ribs up against any from Kansas City or Texas, but since the bucket (literally) was bottomless it served our needs. A trio sang western songs like “Home on the Range” and “Deep in the Heart of Texas” while keeping light banter in going in a drawl; I imagine this is someone’s vision of what life with the tumbling tumbleweeds might be like if that person has never been east of San Bernardino.

All aboard the Mark Twain Riverboat

Big Thunder Trail empties out into a waterfront area where passengers can embark on a voyage aboard the Sailing Ship Columbia or the Mark Twain Riverboat, both impressive rides with the extra benefit of not having the cartoon factor. Unlike Epcot Center, the main goal at the Magic Kingdom is to entertain rather than educate, and both of these vessels achieve that admirably. Equally as admirable is the attention paid to New Orleans Square, which overlooks the water; this series of French Quarter façades almost captures the look and feel of old-time New Orleans. In addition to shops and cafes, New Orleans Square is home to one of the most popular rides at Disneyland, thanks in part to the successful movie franchise of Pirates of the Caribbean. The ride is similar to It’s a Small World in that a self-propelled rowboat takes you on your journey, but in this case you are transported through bayou country and into the world of fun-loving, murderous pirates. Naturally, Captain Jack Sparrow makes random appearances, popping his head up from inside wine barrels and peeking out from behind walls in a buccaneer version of “Where’s Waldo”. The repetitive motions of the animatronic figures get tedious but there’s enough dialog and gunfire to hold your interest. Once off the ride we chose to get coffee and dessert; unfortunately there was not a cup of Cafe du Monde to be found and the beignets I ordered arrived at the table in a confectioner’s sugar rendition of Mickey Nutria. I suppose they tasted fine, and it was just my psyche trying to choke down the powdery chunks of mouse shaped fried dough.

The not-so-scary Haunted Mansion

The two other attractions worth mentioning at the Magic Kingdom are around the corner from New Orleans Square, the first of which is the old school Haunted Mansion. The house portion is unremarkable and looks like any southern mansion with pictures of ghouls and goblins on the wall; it isn’t until the cramped hallway descends into a cavernous lower level that the fun begins. Tilt-a-Whirl cars spin around a flat track past graveyards and dark, damp alleys where projected ghosts fly about in bigger numbers than migrating geese; at one point the car spins around to face a mirror, showing you a ghost sitting alongside you to enjoy the ride. One of the more recent attractions is the Indiana Jones Adventure: Temple of the Forbidden Eye; as with Space Mountain, the wait in the long line is alleviated with screens broadcasting fake newsreels about the site (with narration by John Rhys-Davies who portrayed Salah in the Indiana Jones films); there are also actual props used in the films strewn about to keep your mind off standing in queue. Guests ride in massive driverless jeeps (unmanned vehicles are apparently a recurring theme throughout the park – they don’t even have someone pretending to drive) and they seem to careen out of control, narrowly missing collisions and being crushed by the now infamous rolling papier-mâché boulder. I’ve intentionally omitted the highly-hyped River Cruise, which features Disney animatronics at their worst. I took advantage of the ride to rest my feet for a bit and relax before heading back down to the water for the nightly fireworks and light show, since most of the animals’ single repeated motions easily gave them away as fakes.

The bad-ass dragon is taken down by a mouse

The firework show over Sleeping Beauty Castle is a nightly feature, and Disneyland seemed to spare no expense in executing the spectacular. In the midst of all the incendiaries, an acrobat in a harness dressed as Tinkerbelle is flown on a wire around the area between the Matterhorn and the castle and if she isn’t the highest paid performer in the park she should be. At the waterfront, a water and light extravaganza employs neon-lit barges as well as both ships; live action takes place on a stage at Tom Sawyer Island including an epic battle between Mickey Mouse (as the Sorcerer’s Apprentice) and a 30-foot tall fire breathing dragon – unfortunately, the mouse wins. In the water, jets spray up to form walls that film segments and lights are projected on; the whole spectacular makes the water show at the Bellagio look like two kids fooling around with Super Soakers.

While our passes would have given us access to California Adventure as well as The Magic Kingdom, I wasn’t compelled to check out the other park. I set out to finally visit what has come to be known as the quintessential theme park, a historic fixture of American culture that had been off my radar for most of my life. I can now cross Disneyland off my travel bucket list, and although I have to admit enjoying my visit I don’t see myself as one of those people that have to maintain a yearly season pass, or even anticipate a second visit. There’s so much left to see and do, but keep in mind that it’s a small world, after all.

Disneyland
1313 S. Disneyland Drive
Anaheim, CA 92802
GPS Coordinates: 33°48’44.50″N 117°55’8.67″W

See images from Val’s adventure at the happiest place on earth

apier-mâché

As American As Pecan Pie

Southern California No Responses »

Feb 042012

Township Kitchen Americana and Saloon
Los Angeles, CA

The throwback Township Kitchen Americana and Saloon in Hollywood

I admit that my first reaction upon walking up to Township Kitchen Americana and Saloon in Hollywood was one of confusion; to the uninitiated, the name painted on the side of the antique-looking building suggests a western bar selling antique stoves. It strikes me that restaurant and bar impresario George Abou-Daoud (The Bowery, Delancey, Mission Cantina) could have gotten by inking only the watering hole’s popular first name and saving himself a couple of double eagles but I was already intrigued passing through the gold leaf-lettered swinging glass doors, a portal to another time. Township emerged from the gutted remains of Abou-Daoud’s District in late 2010, but after its elaborate facelift the grand dame bears more resemblance to a purveyor of victuals and libations from 1910. The only feature left from the original space is the classic red tin ceiling; all the fixtures appear to be carefully chosen to make you forget what year it was when you walked in, including a room’s length mahogany bar framed by hand-painted mirrors emblazoned with phrases such as, “Continental Cuisine of the Unites States” and “Featuring Territories Old & New”.

The first page of the menu (which looks fresh off a moveable type press) is well stocked with American whiskeys (including corn and rye), as well as craft beers. After slugging back a couple of their authentic hooches below one of the hanging tin-shaded lamps may make you cast a glance over your shoulder to prepare a hasty getaway should Carrie Nation come in to bust the place up with an axe. Of course, those of us who drove up at 88 miles-per-hour in our Deloreans still have modern cocktalian fare to choose from (although you may enjoy ordering rustic-sounding beverages like “Lynchburg Lemonade”, “New York Egg Cream” or “Southern Sweet Tea”, feisty potations that will put a breeze in your bloomers).

The rustic and airy Township Kitchen Americana and Saloon

The incredibly high ceiling gives the space an open look, but even with the room full conversation wasn’t drowned out by the rabble. Our group of 5 (including friends and writers Arianna Armstrong and Vivianne Lapointe) was comfortable at one of the throwback wooden benches, and although I’m not a big fan of dimly lit establishments as I prefer to clearly see what I’m about to eat, the subtle lighting lent itself well to the period decor. The piped in music nodded to alternative early on but gradually switched over to appease the drinking crowd – cabaret, Dixieland or even steampunk might have been more suitable to the theme. There’s nothing crazy on the menu, although Township does a fine job in pulling in dishes from around the country and executing them with their own flair; from Yankee port roast to lowcountry shrimp and grits, all bases are covered.

Township's take on the oyster and shrimp po' boy

At Vivianne’s suggestion, I ordered the shrimp and oyster po’ boy, and while probably not what you’d expect to arrive when ordered in a Gulf Coast shack, massive chunks of cornmeal battered shellfish burst out of a sub roll in an inviting display. The sandwich was punctuated by a collusion of crisp, pickled red and green chiles and a couple of squirts of rather ominous-looking orange aioli. Oysters and shrimp in general are susceptible to over cooking and are two commonly used seafood items that can emanate that certain funk factor, but both were fresh, perfectly fried and mellowly flavorful; what caught me off guard was the capsaicin-laden accoutrements that set the back of my mouth ablaze like a Louisiana refinery fire. Despite the heat and though the sandwich may not have been authentic, it was delicious to be sure.

Pecan pie from a handed-down recipe

I ended the meal with a cup of coffee from Abou-Daoud’s equally-rustic adjacent Mercantile wine bar and took the advice of our waiter, ordering a generous wedge of pecan pie whipped up from his mother’s recipe (developed when they lived in Texas). Sweet desserts are a turn-off to me, but the pie wasn’t the familiar sticky, viscous and sugary confection I usually encounter in even the finer pie shops; the flavor of the pecans were the star of the dish, so good that we made short work of it by attacking it with our phalanx of spoons.

The food is fresh and delicious at Township, and while there isn’t any new ground being broken in designing the menu I regard that as a plus; the atmosphere, pseudo-historic decor and roundup of regional, traditional and homespun dishes is fresh take on an old theme that gives the feel of eating and drinking in a long-established tavern, an accomplishment deserving of a tip of the hat as you head on out into the sunset.

Township Kitchen Americana and Saloon
6612 Sunset Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90028
GPS Coordinates: 34° 5’52.16″N 118°20’0.64″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s dinner at Township Kitchen Americana and Saloon in Hollywood, California

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