Authentic is a word that is used a lot but makes me nervous sometimes. For example, when someone says that a restaurant serves authentic cuisine, I tend to be skeptical. But in my opinion, Noboru Restaurant in Kailua (201 Hamakua Drive, across the street from Safeway and next to Zia's) qualifies as authentic Japanese cuisine. Chef/owner Akito Yoshioka is originally from Japan and is a highly skilled chef. Everything he does is with a mind to quality (and not necessarily quantity...this isn't a plate lunch place where you get tons of food). From noodle bowls to Teishoku dinners, Yoshioka prepares superb meals.
One of my favorites is the mini-don combination, where you get a small donburi (a savory ingredient served over rice, such as tempura) and a small bowl of udon (thick noodles in broth). It's a nice way to sample several flavors.
The tempura is outstanding, and while I have never tried the beef teriyaki or the steak, I have heard people rave about both. The sashimi is very fresh and expertly presented.
My favorite dish is the broiled saba (mackerel). It is probably the best in Hawaii by far. It is not the dish to order if your palette is on the American side, but if you love Japanese food, this is as good as any you might get in Japan.
For dessert, the green tea cheesecake sounds a little strange, but is absolutely delicious.
A considerable bonus is that co-owner Julie Yoshioka recently became one of only three or four certified sake specialists in Hawaii. You have to go to Japan and receive special training in order to be certified, so if you drink sake, you will receive expert advice and education. From time to time, Julie has sake tastings for education and enjoyment.
I have gone many times, and have always been satisfied. I think you will be as well.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. When I visited Japan with a group of United Methodist pastors and laypeople several years ago, I noticed that the Christian churches often did not have a cross, or it was not prominently displayed. In one church, instead of a cross, there was a giant crown of thorns. I learned that in Japan, the cross often has a negative connotation, one of Western imperialism. The crown of thorns was more in keeping with the Japanese sensibilities of the sacrificial, suffering servant model which Christ exemplifies.
Indeed, the cross as a symbol of the church did not come into popularity until the 4th century A.D., when the Roman Emperor Constantine dreamed that he was led in victory by a cross. Constantine became a Christian and legalized Christianity in the empire.
Up until then, the cross was such a horrific symbol of execution, that the early Christians also avoided using the cross as a symbol of faith (imagine wearing a neck-chain with a mini electric chair and you get the idea). In the catacombs, the symbol of the loaves and fishes was a common symbol of the gathered Christian community.
The Christianity I see portrayed on TV is so often the imperialistic, triumphal version. Maybe that's why so many people are turned off to church. Perhaps more emphasis on the suffering servant Christ and the community that comes from the loaves and fishes is needed to show the more "authentic" side of Christianity.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Shokudo - Japanese Fusion Cuisine as Good As It Gets
One of the great things about having family visit is that you get invited to eat at restaurants. The other day, we went to one of Becky's and my favorites: Shokudo on Kapiolani Blvd., adjacent to the Ala Moana Shopping Center. Roy's is fancier, and Hiroshi Eurasian Tapas may ultimately be the best tasting of all, but for delicious flavors, variety, and reasonable prices, Shokudo is a hard combination to beat when looking for Japanese fusion cooking.
One of the things you might notice is that some aspects of Korean cuisine are present at Shokudo. You find this in the Shrimp with Garlic Rice, which is finished at your table in a stone pot, the same kind used to make dolsot bibimbap (there is a version of that on the menu as well). It produces a delicious essence to the rice, especially if you let the rice sizzle in the pot for awhile, and you get the delicious, dark roasted, nutty flavor in the rice Koreans call kosohae.
The sushi offerings are both traditional and non-traditional. My favorite is the spicy ahi on crispy rice topped with the most wonderful condiment ever: pickled jalapeno peppers, which I am guessing are sliced and simmered in shoyu and vinegar. You can ask for them on the side, and my nephew and I shared three of them. I can't get enough of them!
Something that doesn't sound like much is the tofu salad, but it is really very good. The tofu is homemade, is silky soft, and is seasoned perfectly.
Unusual is the unusually good mochi gratin: cubes of mochi topped with cheese and baked until it all melts into a mass of deliciousness not unlike baked brie.
Another nod to Korean cuisine is the Morioka cold noodles, Shokudo's take on naeng myun (more about that dish in a couple of weeks). The noodles are nice and chewy, and are served in a clear tangy broth with scallions, kim chee, and bean sprouts.
Just about everything is good at Shokudo. The french fries are among the best fries in Hawaii, seasoned with ume (Japanese plum) salt, which sounds strange but it works. The karaage chicken and tempura calamari are also winners.
The best known dessert is called honey toast: super thick toast cut into cubes, drizzled with honey and usually served a la mode. I really am not sure why it's so popular, because it is by far the most ordinary thing on the menu. Far better is baked banana (the restaurant's version of the classic Bananas Foster): a banana sliced lengthwise in a caramel sauce and flamed. Ice cream is served on the side.
Good news for those of you who live in Southern California: there is now a location in Arcadia and one in Irvine. The California restaurants are called Tokyo Table, but the menu is pretty much the same.
We were a three generation table for dinner and everyone enjoyed it immensely. I think you will, too.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. For those who may have some interest in religion, but are hesitant because of some unanswered questions, I would recommend checking out videos featuring Rob Bell, an amazing communicator and pastor from Michigan. He has a unique gift of making Christianity and faith understandable and compelling, even if you are a skeptic. If I had to pick one to start off with, I would pick the video called "Everything Is Spiritual, " in which Bell takes the story of Genesis, quantum physics, and somehow puts it altogether to use scientific theory to make the existence of God plausible. You can get it through online merchants such as Amazon.com or Christian bookstores. It is incredible stuff.
One of the things you might notice is that some aspects of Korean cuisine are present at Shokudo. You find this in the Shrimp with Garlic Rice, which is finished at your table in a stone pot, the same kind used to make dolsot bibimbap (there is a version of that on the menu as well). It produces a delicious essence to the rice, especially if you let the rice sizzle in the pot for awhile, and you get the delicious, dark roasted, nutty flavor in the rice Koreans call kosohae.
The sushi offerings are both traditional and non-traditional. My favorite is the spicy ahi on crispy rice topped with the most wonderful condiment ever: pickled jalapeno peppers, which I am guessing are sliced and simmered in shoyu and vinegar. You can ask for them on the side, and my nephew and I shared three of them. I can't get enough of them!
Something that doesn't sound like much is the tofu salad, but it is really very good. The tofu is homemade, is silky soft, and is seasoned perfectly.
Unusual is the unusually good mochi gratin: cubes of mochi topped with cheese and baked until it all melts into a mass of deliciousness not unlike baked brie.
Another nod to Korean cuisine is the Morioka cold noodles, Shokudo's take on naeng myun (more about that dish in a couple of weeks). The noodles are nice and chewy, and are served in a clear tangy broth with scallions, kim chee, and bean sprouts.
Just about everything is good at Shokudo. The french fries are among the best fries in Hawaii, seasoned with ume (Japanese plum) salt, which sounds strange but it works. The karaage chicken and tempura calamari are also winners.
The best known dessert is called honey toast: super thick toast cut into cubes, drizzled with honey and usually served a la mode. I really am not sure why it's so popular, because it is by far the most ordinary thing on the menu. Far better is baked banana (the restaurant's version of the classic Bananas Foster): a banana sliced lengthwise in a caramel sauce and flamed. Ice cream is served on the side.
Good news for those of you who live in Southern California: there is now a location in Arcadia and one in Irvine. The California restaurants are called Tokyo Table, but the menu is pretty much the same.
We were a three generation table for dinner and everyone enjoyed it immensely. I think you will, too.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. For those who may have some interest in religion, but are hesitant because of some unanswered questions, I would recommend checking out videos featuring Rob Bell, an amazing communicator and pastor from Michigan. He has a unique gift of making Christianity and faith understandable and compelling, even if you are a skeptic. If I had to pick one to start off with, I would pick the video called "Everything Is Spiritual, " in which Bell takes the story of Genesis, quantum physics, and somehow puts it altogether to use scientific theory to make the existence of God plausible. You can get it through online merchants such as Amazon.com or Christian bookstores. It is incredible stuff.
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Willows - at a bargain price
The Willows Restaurant was a beautiful garden restaurant first opened in 1944. There were "grass shack" type eating areas and lush gardens. The first time I went there in the '80s, the highlight of the night were the roving Hawaiian musicians.
By this time, however, the place seemed to be kind of run down and the food was, quite literally, forgettable. I could not give you the faintest hint of what I ate. Not surprisingly, the restaurant closed down in 1993. Six years later, under new management, the restaurant re-opened with significant upgrades, both in decor and food. It became the standard by which all other Hawaiian oriented buffets were compared. All the food that you would expect to find at a luau was there - poi, kalua pig, laualau, lomi lomi salmon, chicken long rice, poke - plus local and buffet favorites like crab, barbecue chicken with teriyaki, multi-ethnic salad bar, carving station, and a table filled with desserts, such as pies (such as macadamia nut cream pie), cakes (especially haupia cake), and frozen yogurt. There also were Japanese dishes such as sushi, tempura and a soba bar where you can make your own noodle bowl.
The Willows is celebrating its ten year anniversary since re-opening. Becky's sister's family is visiting, so we all went to the Willows last night. For the month of August (and according to the waitress, perhaps even longer), there is a special tenth anniversary price: $24.95, which is $10 dollars below the regular price. This is definitely a good deal. You figure that at a conventional sit-down restaurant, the cheapest appetizer, entree, and dessert combination would equal or exceed $25. Throw in all you can eat, and it is a bargain.
An approximately 30% reduction in price, however, comes at a different kind of price. Becky and I independently thought the buffet was smaller, maybe by as much as 30%. The Japanese food was mostly gone (there was some nigiri sushi), and a lot of other items weren't there. The dessert table, while still good, didn't have as much as before (notably absent: Ted's Bakery chocolate haupia pie). The haupia cake was the best selection that evening.
But the all you can eat ahi limu poke (which I could get back my dinner price on that alone) was still there, the Hawaiian food in general was still good, and there's plenty to eat. Of special note: the server we had could not have been more friendly, attentive, or accommodating.
It's still a great deal, and the food is still good, and we're very grateful to have been hosted by Becky's sister's family, but it was a tick under the experience of previous visits over the last ten years. I would still recommend it at $25 per person, but not at $35, unless they restore the items omitted.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. "Hawaii Aloha" is a standard way to end occasions in Hawaii. Here's a link to a YouTube video of the song featuring Bruddah Iz (the late Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, whose version of "Over the Rainbow" has become nearly as beloved as Judy Garland's): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_17vGYa81s
What many people don't know is that the words to "Hawaii Aloha" were written by the Rev. Lorenzo Lyons, a Congregational Church pastor, and that the tune was originally written for the Christian hymn "I Left It All with Jesus," composed by James McGranahan. King Kamehameha IV liked the hymn-tune so much that he commissioned Rev. Lyons to write the new words.
When "Hawaii Aloha" is sung, it is customary to hold hands during the singing and raise them at the end of the last chorus. At our church, we sing "Hawaii Aloha" on the first Sunday of the month when we have Holy Communion, a fitting symbol of the community always formed by the Grace of Christ.
By this time, however, the place seemed to be kind of run down and the food was, quite literally, forgettable. I could not give you the faintest hint of what I ate. Not surprisingly, the restaurant closed down in 1993. Six years later, under new management, the restaurant re-opened with significant upgrades, both in decor and food. It became the standard by which all other Hawaiian oriented buffets were compared. All the food that you would expect to find at a luau was there - poi, kalua pig, laualau, lomi lomi salmon, chicken long rice, poke - plus local and buffet favorites like crab, barbecue chicken with teriyaki, multi-ethnic salad bar, carving station, and a table filled with desserts, such as pies (such as macadamia nut cream pie), cakes (especially haupia cake), and frozen yogurt. There also were Japanese dishes such as sushi, tempura and a soba bar where you can make your own noodle bowl.
The Willows is celebrating its ten year anniversary since re-opening. Becky's sister's family is visiting, so we all went to the Willows last night. For the month of August (and according to the waitress, perhaps even longer), there is a special tenth anniversary price: $24.95, which is $10 dollars below the regular price. This is definitely a good deal. You figure that at a conventional sit-down restaurant, the cheapest appetizer, entree, and dessert combination would equal or exceed $25. Throw in all you can eat, and it is a bargain.
An approximately 30% reduction in price, however, comes at a different kind of price. Becky and I independently thought the buffet was smaller, maybe by as much as 30%. The Japanese food was mostly gone (there was some nigiri sushi), and a lot of other items weren't there. The dessert table, while still good, didn't have as much as before (notably absent: Ted's Bakery chocolate haupia pie). The haupia cake was the best selection that evening.
But the all you can eat ahi limu poke (which I could get back my dinner price on that alone) was still there, the Hawaiian food in general was still good, and there's plenty to eat. Of special note: the server we had could not have been more friendly, attentive, or accommodating.
It's still a great deal, and the food is still good, and we're very grateful to have been hosted by Becky's sister's family, but it was a tick under the experience of previous visits over the last ten years. I would still recommend it at $25 per person, but not at $35, unless they restore the items omitted.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. "Hawaii Aloha" is a standard way to end occasions in Hawaii. Here's a link to a YouTube video of the song featuring Bruddah Iz (the late Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, whose version of "Over the Rainbow" has become nearly as beloved as Judy Garland's): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_17vGYa81s
What many people don't know is that the words to "Hawaii Aloha" were written by the Rev. Lorenzo Lyons, a Congregational Church pastor, and that the tune was originally written for the Christian hymn "I Left It All with Jesus," composed by James McGranahan. King Kamehameha IV liked the hymn-tune so much that he commissioned Rev. Lyons to write the new words.
When "Hawaii Aloha" is sung, it is customary to hold hands during the singing and raise them at the end of the last chorus. At our church, we sing "Hawaii Aloha" on the first Sunday of the month when we have Holy Communion, a fitting symbol of the community always formed by the Grace of Christ.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Ja Jang Myun and Cold Noodles
I wasn't going to post quite so soon, but this morning I got a surprise call from the Rev. Dr. Woong-Min Kim, who is my boss, and the District Superintendent for the Hawaii area of the United Methodist Church. We have a very close relationship, as he was the last and best associate pastor serving under my dad (The Rev. Dr. Young Yong Choi) at the Robertson Korean United Methodist Church in Los Angeles (now LAKUMC). Rev. Kim's son, Stephen Kim, is the pastor of the West Los Angeles UMC, where many of the congregants I used to pastor now attend. There's a beautiful symmetry there.
Anyway, Rev. Kim took me to The Mandarin, a restaurant whose address is 725 Kapiolani Blvd., unit C123 in Honolulu, but don't bother looking for it on Kapiolani. The restaurant faces Cooke Street, and the parking is off of Kawaiahao, and you can access the restaurant from the parking lot.
Ja Jang Myun (the Korean pronunciation) is a Chinese dish (Cha Jiang Mein is the Chinese pronunciation) that has been adapted for Korean palates, as many Chinese, fleeing Communist China, settled in Korea and opened restaurants. Korean style Chinese food is a whole cuisine unto itself; it is neither completely Chinese or completely Korean, but it is, of course, completely delicious. The word "myun" or "mein" means noodles. According to Wikipedia, Ja Jang means "fried sauce." The more purely Chinese style of this dish really resembles spaghetti with meat sauce. I just can't help feeling that Marco Polo tasted this when visiting Kubla Khan, thought it was great and brought it to Italy, where it was adapted for Italian palates into versions like the rich and sumptuous Pasta Bolognese.
The version designed for Korean palates is more of a black bean sauce with onions and a small amount of meat, or with squid, sea cucumber, and shrimp. The numerous fans of Korean soap operas (many of whom are not Korean) know it as "black noodles," and I have accompanied friends wanting to try what they've been watching for a long time and not able to taste.
The Ja Jang Myun at The Mandarin is good, with wonderfully chewy, beautiful noodles. The sauce was a little milder than what I'm used to, but it was okay. I'm not a big fan of sea cucumbers, so I didn't want the seafood based sauce. Those more adventurous or more used to those ingredients might enjoy it more than the regular sauce.
Rev. Kim suggested that we share two main dishes. The second was simply called Cold Noodles. The same great noodles served in a cool sauce that I'm guessing had rice vinegar, a small amount of chili pepper, soy sauce, and something that gave it a slight nutty flavor, which I think was sesame paste. The bowl was topped with char siu (Chinese BBQ pork), matchstick cucumbers, carrots, and sliced omelet-like eggs. These were excellent and the highlight of the meal.
The service was attentive and friendly. The decor was nothing fancy, but clean and pleasant. I would recommend this restaurant and this combination.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Somehow, the omelet-like eggs that make their way to many Asian dishes remind me of my dad. For the first several years of my life, I never saw him in the kitchen. But when I was about 12 or so, my mother got into a car accident, was bedridden for awhile and couldn't cook. My dad cooked for us meals like hotdogs boiled in instant ramen broth and then the noodles were added - a complete meal in a bowl.
Then one day, he made what he called his version of Egg Foo Yung. It was the first "from scratch" meal I had seen him make. I asked what the recipe was. He said nonchalantly, "Eggs, bean sprouts, a little Lawry [Seasoned] Salt. It was pretty good. I was impressed that my dad could pull something off like that.
For some reason, I always remember him saying "a little Lawry Salt." It was the secret ingredient that gave the dish flavor. There was something so endearing about the those few little words and the way my dad said them.
Much later on, when I was in seminary in New Haven, Connecticut, my dad became very ill with Valley Fever, which is a lung infection caused by airborne spores that proliferated in Camarillo farmlands, which were near where my dad and mom lived. There was even a thought that he might die.
I called him one December day, just before finals. He heard my voice and he said, "Tom!! I love you." At age 24, it was the first time I had ever heard him say those words. I had definitely felt that my dad loved me, and he was more affectionate than most Korean dads I knew, but he had never said those words. There was something powerful and amazing to actually hear them.
In the Gospel of John, the writer talks about the Word becoming flesh, which refers to Christ. The description of the embodiment of God and the ultimate expression of grace - unconditional love - is as a word. A word is expressed and it is gone. And yet, it lingers, it remains, it is treasured.
"A little Lawry salt," "Tom! I love you," mere words which were uttered in the past, but will be etched in my mind and heart forever, even as the grace of Christ is.
Anyway, Rev. Kim took me to The Mandarin, a restaurant whose address is 725 Kapiolani Blvd., unit C123 in Honolulu, but don't bother looking for it on Kapiolani. The restaurant faces Cooke Street, and the parking is off of Kawaiahao, and you can access the restaurant from the parking lot.
Ja Jang Myun (the Korean pronunciation) is a Chinese dish (Cha Jiang Mein is the Chinese pronunciation) that has been adapted for Korean palates, as many Chinese, fleeing Communist China, settled in Korea and opened restaurants. Korean style Chinese food is a whole cuisine unto itself; it is neither completely Chinese or completely Korean, but it is, of course, completely delicious. The word "myun" or "mein" means noodles. According to Wikipedia, Ja Jang means "fried sauce." The more purely Chinese style of this dish really resembles spaghetti with meat sauce. I just can't help feeling that Marco Polo tasted this when visiting Kubla Khan, thought it was great and brought it to Italy, where it was adapted for Italian palates into versions like the rich and sumptuous Pasta Bolognese.
The version designed for Korean palates is more of a black bean sauce with onions and a small amount of meat, or with squid, sea cucumber, and shrimp. The numerous fans of Korean soap operas (many of whom are not Korean) know it as "black noodles," and I have accompanied friends wanting to try what they've been watching for a long time and not able to taste.
The Ja Jang Myun at The Mandarin is good, with wonderfully chewy, beautiful noodles. The sauce was a little milder than what I'm used to, but it was okay. I'm not a big fan of sea cucumbers, so I didn't want the seafood based sauce. Those more adventurous or more used to those ingredients might enjoy it more than the regular sauce.
Rev. Kim suggested that we share two main dishes. The second was simply called Cold Noodles. The same great noodles served in a cool sauce that I'm guessing had rice vinegar, a small amount of chili pepper, soy sauce, and something that gave it a slight nutty flavor, which I think was sesame paste. The bowl was topped with char siu (Chinese BBQ pork), matchstick cucumbers, carrots, and sliced omelet-like eggs. These were excellent and the highlight of the meal.
The service was attentive and friendly. The decor was nothing fancy, but clean and pleasant. I would recommend this restaurant and this combination.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Somehow, the omelet-like eggs that make their way to many Asian dishes remind me of my dad. For the first several years of my life, I never saw him in the kitchen. But when I was about 12 or so, my mother got into a car accident, was bedridden for awhile and couldn't cook. My dad cooked for us meals like hotdogs boiled in instant ramen broth and then the noodles were added - a complete meal in a bowl.
Then one day, he made what he called his version of Egg Foo Yung. It was the first "from scratch" meal I had seen him make. I asked what the recipe was. He said nonchalantly, "Eggs, bean sprouts, a little Lawry [Seasoned] Salt. It was pretty good. I was impressed that my dad could pull something off like that.
For some reason, I always remember him saying "a little Lawry Salt." It was the secret ingredient that gave the dish flavor. There was something so endearing about the those few little words and the way my dad said them.
Much later on, when I was in seminary in New Haven, Connecticut, my dad became very ill with Valley Fever, which is a lung infection caused by airborne spores that proliferated in Camarillo farmlands, which were near where my dad and mom lived. There was even a thought that he might die.
I called him one December day, just before finals. He heard my voice and he said, "Tom!! I love you." At age 24, it was the first time I had ever heard him say those words. I had definitely felt that my dad loved me, and he was more affectionate than most Korean dads I knew, but he had never said those words. There was something powerful and amazing to actually hear them.
In the Gospel of John, the writer talks about the Word becoming flesh, which refers to Christ. The description of the embodiment of God and the ultimate expression of grace - unconditional love - is as a word. A word is expressed and it is gone. And yet, it lingers, it remains, it is treasured.
"A little Lawry salt," "Tom! I love you," mere words which were uttered in the past, but will be etched in my mind and heart forever, even as the grace of Christ is.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sushi and Kimbap
Our Seekers group at church is having "make your own sushi" night this evening. So it's time to talk about one of the world's great culinary creations, plus something similar and closer to my roots.
Sushi begins and ends with short grain rice that has been seasoned with rice vinegar. Then the rice is shaped in the chef's hands and topped with delicately sliced or formed morsels, usually seafood. Ahi tuna (maguro), halibut (hirame), shrimp (ebi), ikura (salmon eggs) are just a few examples of this type of sushi, called nigiri. Often, a bit of wasabi (green "horseradish") is added.
When sushi is rolled in sheets of nori (thin, black, and seasoned sheets of seaweed), it is called maki sushi. When placed inside elliptically shaped pockets of light brown tofu skin, it is called inari sushi. Growing up in Los Angeles, my third generation Japanese American (sansei) friends irreverently called maki sushi "tires," and inari sushi "footballs." My wife Becky calls inari "elbow skin."
Spicy tuna is more of an American phenomenon, and some sushi chefs will refuse to make it. It is, however, delicious and a favorite of mine.
Cooked sushi is becoming popular. There is a hybrid version called broiled sushi, which takes imitation crab, mayonnaise, mushrooms, and other ingredients, placed over sushi rice and broiled. It is served by taking a sheet of Korean style nori (the kind you can often get from Costco in the little packs, with the sheets maybe 1/6 the size of a regular sheet) and spreading the broiled ingredients on it.
This brings us to kimbap, which literally means "seaweed rice." Where sushi usually contains seafood, the kimbap I'm most familiar with has seasoned and cooked beef, seasoned spinach, slivered egg (kind of like an omelette) and daikon or moo in Korean, all rolled with a sheet of kim, or Korean style nori and sliced. It's very hearty and makes an excellent appetizer or even a full meal in itself.
Where's the best sushi in Hawaii? The contenders would include Yanagi Sushi, which has long been a standard for high quality sushi. California Beach Rock N' Sushi is very untraditional, but very good. I would have to say that Yohei Restaurant, however, has the best tasting sushi I've had in a long time.
I have never been there, mostly because I don't have the money it takes, but Sushi Sasabune is supposed to be the best in Hawaii. I have eaten at the Los Angeles location - thanks to Carolina barbecue lover Linda Quarles - and it was fabulous. No menus, no requests, just trust the chef to make you an incredible sushi meal...and it was.
But the greatest sushi experience of my life would have to be at Morimoto Restaurant in Philadelphia. Yes, THAT Morimoto, Iron Chef in Japan and America. My sister and brother-in-law were kind and generous enough to treat me to a meal there. I was fortunate enough to have Morimoto working the sushi bar that night, and as one of the courses of my meal he made four very small pieces of sushi: hirame, hamachi (yellowtail), salmon, and the ultimate: toro (fatty tuna). All were sublime, especially the toro. It's just fish on rice, but somehow, the ultra freshness of the fish, the perfect seasoning of the rice, the exactness of the portions, resulted in something quite ethereal. It was the epitome of how utterly simple food can be the most delicious of all.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Far less sophisticated and gourmet was the kimbap my mother used to make. As a poor pastor's family, we had to come up with creative ways to eat cheaply but well. During the toughest years (to my family; I thought they were among the best years of my life), we had kimbap, but it wasn't made with the beef, spinach, eggs, and moo. My mom would layer rice on a sheet of kim, then pour a line of soy sauce, a line of sesame oil, and a line of roasted sesame seed salt (gae sogum), roll it up and and slice it. As a young boy, it was the most delicious thing - again utterly simple. The deliciousness of it lingered so strong with me that even when we could afford the fancier ingredients, I still wanted Mom's simple kimbap.
Maybe it was the love that my mother put into it that made it so special. I always felt very special growing up. My father was a pastor, and my mother had been seminary trained. They instilled a strong sense of faith in me. It led me one day to being called to the ministry. The day after I was ordained, my parents took me for a walk and explained that when my mom was pregnant with me, they had prayed for a boy (they already had two daughters), and that this boy would grow up to become a pastor and serve God as they had. That was why my Korean name Sungsoo means "Holy Chosen." They didn't tell me until the day after my ordination, so they wouldn't unduly influence me. It would have to be a pure calling from God. And it was. They never said a thing about it, but the way they always demonstrated God's grace to me, the way they brought me up in the church, the way my mom might not have the best ingredients, except a mother's love, but was still able to make some of the most delicious food in my memory - all of this continues to affirm my journey with God. I believe we are called, maybe not to ordained ministry, but we are called to first experience the deliciousness of the utter simplicity of God's unconditional love, and then share it with others.
Sushi begins and ends with short grain rice that has been seasoned with rice vinegar. Then the rice is shaped in the chef's hands and topped with delicately sliced or formed morsels, usually seafood. Ahi tuna (maguro), halibut (hirame), shrimp (ebi), ikura (salmon eggs) are just a few examples of this type of sushi, called nigiri. Often, a bit of wasabi (green "horseradish") is added.
When sushi is rolled in sheets of nori (thin, black, and seasoned sheets of seaweed), it is called maki sushi. When placed inside elliptically shaped pockets of light brown tofu skin, it is called inari sushi. Growing up in Los Angeles, my third generation Japanese American (sansei) friends irreverently called maki sushi "tires," and inari sushi "footballs." My wife Becky calls inari "elbow skin."
Spicy tuna is more of an American phenomenon, and some sushi chefs will refuse to make it. It is, however, delicious and a favorite of mine.
Cooked sushi is becoming popular. There is a hybrid version called broiled sushi, which takes imitation crab, mayonnaise, mushrooms, and other ingredients, placed over sushi rice and broiled. It is served by taking a sheet of Korean style nori (the kind you can often get from Costco in the little packs, with the sheets maybe 1/6 the size of a regular sheet) and spreading the broiled ingredients on it.
This brings us to kimbap, which literally means "seaweed rice." Where sushi usually contains seafood, the kimbap I'm most familiar with has seasoned and cooked beef, seasoned spinach, slivered egg (kind of like an omelette) and daikon or moo in Korean, all rolled with a sheet of kim, or Korean style nori and sliced. It's very hearty and makes an excellent appetizer or even a full meal in itself.
Where's the best sushi in Hawaii? The contenders would include Yanagi Sushi, which has long been a standard for high quality sushi. California Beach Rock N' Sushi is very untraditional, but very good. I would have to say that Yohei Restaurant, however, has the best tasting sushi I've had in a long time.
I have never been there, mostly because I don't have the money it takes, but Sushi Sasabune is supposed to be the best in Hawaii. I have eaten at the Los Angeles location - thanks to Carolina barbecue lover Linda Quarles - and it was fabulous. No menus, no requests, just trust the chef to make you an incredible sushi meal...and it was.
But the greatest sushi experience of my life would have to be at Morimoto Restaurant in Philadelphia. Yes, THAT Morimoto, Iron Chef in Japan and America. My sister and brother-in-law were kind and generous enough to treat me to a meal there. I was fortunate enough to have Morimoto working the sushi bar that night, and as one of the courses of my meal he made four very small pieces of sushi: hirame, hamachi (yellowtail), salmon, and the ultimate: toro (fatty tuna). All were sublime, especially the toro. It's just fish on rice, but somehow, the ultra freshness of the fish, the perfect seasoning of the rice, the exactness of the portions, resulted in something quite ethereal. It was the epitome of how utterly simple food can be the most delicious of all.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Far less sophisticated and gourmet was the kimbap my mother used to make. As a poor pastor's family, we had to come up with creative ways to eat cheaply but well. During the toughest years (to my family; I thought they were among the best years of my life), we had kimbap, but it wasn't made with the beef, spinach, eggs, and moo. My mom would layer rice on a sheet of kim, then pour a line of soy sauce, a line of sesame oil, and a line of roasted sesame seed salt (gae sogum), roll it up and and slice it. As a young boy, it was the most delicious thing - again utterly simple. The deliciousness of it lingered so strong with me that even when we could afford the fancier ingredients, I still wanted Mom's simple kimbap.
Maybe it was the love that my mother put into it that made it so special. I always felt very special growing up. My father was a pastor, and my mother had been seminary trained. They instilled a strong sense of faith in me. It led me one day to being called to the ministry. The day after I was ordained, my parents took me for a walk and explained that when my mom was pregnant with me, they had prayed for a boy (they already had two daughters), and that this boy would grow up to become a pastor and serve God as they had. That was why my Korean name Sungsoo means "Holy Chosen." They didn't tell me until the day after my ordination, so they wouldn't unduly influence me. It would have to be a pure calling from God. And it was. They never said a thing about it, but the way they always demonstrated God's grace to me, the way they brought me up in the church, the way my mom might not have the best ingredients, except a mother's love, but was still able to make some of the most delicious food in my memory - all of this continues to affirm my journey with God. I believe we are called, maybe not to ordained ministry, but we are called to first experience the deliciousness of the utter simplicity of God's unconditional love, and then share it with others.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Of Figs, Farmer's Markets, and Lemongrass Tofu
After a week of cholesterol rich food in Nashville, I thought I might go a little easy on the meat and fat this week. A trip to Costco resulted in the purchase of some nectarines and to my delight, figs. I have long loved figs, in dried form, and most definitely, fresh. Figs are a big California thing, but I hadn't seen many in Hawaii.
In my trip to Los Angeles in June, I decided to check out the world famous Santa Monica Farmer's Market. My favorite podcast is KCRW's Good Food Podcast. It is hosted by Evan Kleiman, the chef-owner of Angeli Cafe, one of the first of the fresh new style Italian restaurants that popped up in the 80's. Every week, her show featured a visit to the Santa Monica Farmer's market by reporter Laura Avery (whose unmistakable voice I heard talking on a cellphone during my trip to the market).
There were some great peaches (white flesh or Babcock), a medley of berries in primary colors (yellow and red raspberries plus blueberries), and some fresh figs, which I hadn't had in years. Figs, when they are good, burst with flavor, and in Italy are often served with prosciutto, giving that deeply satisfying salty/sweet combination.
So when Costco had California figs, I grabbed a container full of them. They have actually been pretty good, and I learned a little bit about how to select them. These had various stages of green to purple. Basically, the more complete the purple color is on the skin, the sweeter the fig.
With figs for breakfast on Monday, I then decided I might have something vegetarian for lunch, which is unheard of for me. I went to the Kailua branch of Bale, a chain of Vietnamese restaurants. I usually have lemongrass chicken, which features that flavoring which resembles a mix of scallions and wood (which is what the texture will be like if you try ate lemongrass) so aptly named because of the earthy, citrus-y qualities. The great thing about tofu is that it absorbs the flavors of whatever you're cooking with it (which is why it tastes so terrible in many vegetarian dishes because I find the seasoning in much vegetarian cooking to be very bland, thus resulting in bland tasting tofu). In this case, the sweet/savory/spicy/acidic flavors were delicious and thought that this was a dish I could happily eat again and again.
I will now add Bale as an option when trying to figure out where to eat with a group of vegetarians mixed with carnivores (which happened often with a previous associate pastor Krista Givens, now ironically living in Germany as a missionary, which has one of the most meat dominated cuisines I've had). Italian has always been my standby, because a vegetarian (even vegan) has many delicious options: pasta simply cooked in a marinara sauce or maybe just olive oil and garlic (which we have at home often and is a favorite of one of my girls). But lemongrass tofu or vegetarian pho are great options.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Figs figure prominently in the Bible. After eating of the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil (the fruit is never named in scripture, it is only later presumed to be various types of fruit, apples and classically, the quince, which is a very ugly looking fruit), they took to covering their nakedness (their shame and embarrassment) with fig leaves. They leave the Garden of Eden, being denied the opportunity to eat the fruit from the tree of life, thus being "fruitless."
Later, in the New Testament, we find Jesus cursing a fig tree with no figs: a tree that is "fruitless." Perhaps this is an allusion to the Adam and Eve story, that when we are "fruitless" in our spiritual pursuits, it recalls the sadness God feels when we aren't ready for the grace of God or go the wrong way. Perhaps this relates also to when fruit isn't quite ready or ripe...the taste of it isn't very good. Maybe that's why faith is not very satisfying to many, because we haven't taken the time to let our faith mature and ripen to the right time.
Conversely, the eating of the fruit of the fig tree at full ripeness and sweetness gives us a metaphor of the sweetness of a fully explored, fully ripe relationship with Christ.
In my trip to Los Angeles in June, I decided to check out the world famous Santa Monica Farmer's Market. My favorite podcast is KCRW's Good Food Podcast. It is hosted by Evan Kleiman, the chef-owner of Angeli Cafe, one of the first of the fresh new style Italian restaurants that popped up in the 80's. Every week, her show featured a visit to the Santa Monica Farmer's market by reporter Laura Avery (whose unmistakable voice I heard talking on a cellphone during my trip to the market).
There were some great peaches (white flesh or Babcock), a medley of berries in primary colors (yellow and red raspberries plus blueberries), and some fresh figs, which I hadn't had in years. Figs, when they are good, burst with flavor, and in Italy are often served with prosciutto, giving that deeply satisfying salty/sweet combination.
So when Costco had California figs, I grabbed a container full of them. They have actually been pretty good, and I learned a little bit about how to select them. These had various stages of green to purple. Basically, the more complete the purple color is on the skin, the sweeter the fig.
With figs for breakfast on Monday, I then decided I might have something vegetarian for lunch, which is unheard of for me. I went to the Kailua branch of Bale, a chain of Vietnamese restaurants. I usually have lemongrass chicken, which features that flavoring which resembles a mix of scallions and wood (which is what the texture will be like if you try ate lemongrass) so aptly named because of the earthy, citrus-y qualities. The great thing about tofu is that it absorbs the flavors of whatever you're cooking with it (which is why it tastes so terrible in many vegetarian dishes because I find the seasoning in much vegetarian cooking to be very bland, thus resulting in bland tasting tofu). In this case, the sweet/savory/spicy/acidic flavors were delicious and thought that this was a dish I could happily eat again and again.
I will now add Bale as an option when trying to figure out where to eat with a group of vegetarians mixed with carnivores (which happened often with a previous associate pastor Krista Givens, now ironically living in Germany as a missionary, which has one of the most meat dominated cuisines I've had). Italian has always been my standby, because a vegetarian (even vegan) has many delicious options: pasta simply cooked in a marinara sauce or maybe just olive oil and garlic (which we have at home often and is a favorite of one of my girls). But lemongrass tofu or vegetarian pho are great options.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Figs figure prominently in the Bible. After eating of the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil (the fruit is never named in scripture, it is only later presumed to be various types of fruit, apples and classically, the quince, which is a very ugly looking fruit), they took to covering their nakedness (their shame and embarrassment) with fig leaves. They leave the Garden of Eden, being denied the opportunity to eat the fruit from the tree of life, thus being "fruitless."
Later, in the New Testament, we find Jesus cursing a fig tree with no figs: a tree that is "fruitless." Perhaps this is an allusion to the Adam and Eve story, that when we are "fruitless" in our spiritual pursuits, it recalls the sadness God feels when we aren't ready for the grace of God or go the wrong way. Perhaps this relates also to when fruit isn't quite ready or ripe...the taste of it isn't very good. Maybe that's why faith is not very satisfying to many, because we haven't taken the time to let our faith mature and ripen to the right time.
Conversely, the eating of the fruit of the fig tree at full ripeness and sweetness gives us a metaphor of the sweetness of a fully explored, fully ripe relationship with Christ.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Julie and Julia - a Cinematic Feast
So after I had that sumptuous feast at the Loveless Cafe in Nashville (did I mention that the fried chicken and biscuits were divine?), I went to see the film "Julie & Julia," starring Meryl Streep as Julia Child and Amy Adams as the 30 year old Julie Powell, looking for meaning in life and finds it by cooking - in one year - all 524 recipes in Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking.
Let me say that I almost always fall asleep in films, no matter how good they are. Not this time. I was charmed, tickled, and heartwarmed throughout "Julie & Julia." It is an utterly captivating film, seamlessly moving back and forth between Julie's and Julia's lives. Streep's performance channels Child in a way that is astonishing. At times you mix up the real Julia with Meryl. You would expect Adams to be blown away by Streep, but she holds her own quite nicely, as does the underrated but always outstanding Stanley Tucci as Julia's husband, Paul Child.
The only minor flaw was that it became a bit too obvious at times that Streep was assisted by platforms, booster seats, and super high heels to appear as tall as the real Julia Child.
The film's main point is the need in life to have passion and meaning in whatever you are doing, and to pursue it relentlessly.
Of course, this film now takes its place at the very top of the pantheon of great movies about food, right up there with Ang Lee's "Eat Drink Man Woman," the two remakes in different cultures, "Soul Food," and "Tortilla Soup," with all three using food as a metaphor for love.
"Babette's Feast" deserves mention, because of its wonderful theme of food as metaphor for God's grace: wonderful, without cost, and transformational for the receiver; costly, daunting, and a labor of love on the part of the giver.
Some would probably name "My Dinner Andre," but I haven't seen it, and I am no longer as much into arthouse films as before. Maybe others can give their opinion.
To go from the sublime to the ridiculous, perhaps the two most memorable food preparation scenes to me are Clemenza making spaghetti for the mafia soldiers in "The Godfather," and Paulie in "Goodfellas" shaving garlic slices with a razor blade so the garlic would liquefy in a pan with a little olive oil, and the other mafiosi making spaghetti sauce (beef, pork, and veal for the meatballs, but you've got to have the pork because that's the flavor), and steak ("Medium rare...ah...an aristocrat!").
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. This season's semifinal show of The Next Food Network Star featured the three semifinalists watching an advance screening of "Julie & Julia," and creating a gourmet meal for chefs.
Melissa D'Arabian, the eventual winner, uttered some of the most profound words I've heard in a long time, let alone from a reality food show. She came out in front of the chefs and said that she had heard recently that one should not be afraid of failure; that one should be afraid of success in the wrong thing. After sharing that she had achieved corporate-world success, her mind was full, but her soul was undernourished. This led her to her passion for cooking and seeking the position with the Food Network. She quoted Julia Child's now famous "Don't be afraid!" And then she said, "So I'm standing before you, not afraid. I may fail, but I'm failing at the right thing."
I have to admit that as a pastor, I have long feared failure. Every Sunday has the possibility of failure. The task of bringing a message of faith in God through Christ grows more daunting in a world that seems to regard faith matters with greater and increasing disinterest. But yet I continue. Why? What Melissa said really hit a chord (I admit that I shed a few tears for one of the rare times in my life). I may fail, but I realize I will be failing at the right thing. The grace of God in Christ is an amazing thing - not what you mostly see in the media - and is even more satisfying than any food I've ever blogged about, and still worth talking about.
Let me say that I almost always fall asleep in films, no matter how good they are. Not this time. I was charmed, tickled, and heartwarmed throughout "Julie & Julia." It is an utterly captivating film, seamlessly moving back and forth between Julie's and Julia's lives. Streep's performance channels Child in a way that is astonishing. At times you mix up the real Julia with Meryl. You would expect Adams to be blown away by Streep, but she holds her own quite nicely, as does the underrated but always outstanding Stanley Tucci as Julia's husband, Paul Child.
The only minor flaw was that it became a bit too obvious at times that Streep was assisted by platforms, booster seats, and super high heels to appear as tall as the real Julia Child.
The film's main point is the need in life to have passion and meaning in whatever you are doing, and to pursue it relentlessly.
Of course, this film now takes its place at the very top of the pantheon of great movies about food, right up there with Ang Lee's "Eat Drink Man Woman," the two remakes in different cultures, "Soul Food," and "Tortilla Soup," with all three using food as a metaphor for love.
"Babette's Feast" deserves mention, because of its wonderful theme of food as metaphor for God's grace: wonderful, without cost, and transformational for the receiver; costly, daunting, and a labor of love on the part of the giver.
Some would probably name "My Dinner Andre," but I haven't seen it, and I am no longer as much into arthouse films as before. Maybe others can give their opinion.
To go from the sublime to the ridiculous, perhaps the two most memorable food preparation scenes to me are Clemenza making spaghetti for the mafia soldiers in "The Godfather," and Paulie in "Goodfellas" shaving garlic slices with a razor blade so the garlic would liquefy in a pan with a little olive oil, and the other mafiosi making spaghetti sauce (beef, pork, and veal for the meatballs, but you've got to have the pork because that's the flavor), and steak ("Medium rare...ah...an aristocrat!").
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. This season's semifinal show of The Next Food Network Star featured the three semifinalists watching an advance screening of "Julie & Julia," and creating a gourmet meal for chefs.
Melissa D'Arabian, the eventual winner, uttered some of the most profound words I've heard in a long time, let alone from a reality food show. She came out in front of the chefs and said that she had heard recently that one should not be afraid of failure; that one should be afraid of success in the wrong thing. After sharing that she had achieved corporate-world success, her mind was full, but her soul was undernourished. This led her to her passion for cooking and seeking the position with the Food Network. She quoted Julia Child's now famous "Don't be afraid!" And then she said, "So I'm standing before you, not afraid. I may fail, but I'm failing at the right thing."
I have to admit that as a pastor, I have long feared failure. Every Sunday has the possibility of failure. The task of bringing a message of faith in God through Christ grows more daunting in a world that seems to regard faith matters with greater and increasing disinterest. But yet I continue. Why? What Melissa said really hit a chord (I admit that I shed a few tears for one of the rare times in my life). I may fail, but I realize I will be failing at the right thing. The grace of God in Christ is an amazing thing - not what you mostly see in the media - and is even more satisfying than any food I've ever blogged about, and still worth talking about.
Friday, August 14, 2009
The Best Fried Chicken - The Loveless Cafe, Nashville, TN
For my last full day in Nashville, after my meeting was over, I went down to the legendary Loveless Cafe. Now, one of the standard meals in these parts is Meat and Three, one meat, three vegetables. It seems that I've been more like Three Meats and Three. At Jack's, I had ribs, pulled pork, and brisket plus Beans, Mac and Cheese, and cornbread.
At Loveless, I had another three meats: fried chicken, fried catfish, and country ham plus fried okra, grits, and turnip greens. I also had some of Loveless's famous biscuits.
Often, when a restaurant has a great recommendation and reviews, I find it somewhat disappointing. Not in this case. So far, this is the best fried chicken I have ever had. Yes, Hawaii people, Zippy's fried chicken is very good, but the chicken at Loveless is ethereal: a thin, light but crispy crust, perfectly seasoned; underneath is plump, tender, juicy meat that is simply amazing.
The country ham was good, especially when I cut a piece and put it between one of the fabulous biscuits. The fried catfish was excellent.
As for the sides: the grits made me realize why Pastor Mike and his wife Cris didn't say much when I said I liked the grits at Denny's in Kaneohe. The grits at Loveless were so much better: stone ground and impeccably cooked. Fried okra is something that many people outside of the South haven't eaten. It is a wonderful vegetable when cooked properly, as these were: batter fried, crispy on the outside and tender and flavorful on the inside. The turnip greens were good, although they are my least favorite type of greens: I would rate collard greens and kale above them, and mustard greens are my favorite of all. Somehow, mustard greens remind me of Korean kim chee jigae, which is cabbage kim chee that is long simmered with "side meat," just like greens.
A bit of amusement and proof that there is a connection between the South and Hawaii (the most southen state in the Union): I looked at the middle of my plate and thought I was back home. There was something that looked just like andagi, the Okinawan deep fried doughnut (more like a doughnut hole). After a few seconds, I realized that this was a hush puppy, which are morsels of cornmeal that are deep friend. Hush puppies are savory (andagi are sweet), with a bit of onion inside - deee-licious! The name supposedly comes from the aroma of hush puppies frying, which drove pet dogs crazy. The cook would toss one to a dog, and say, "Hush, puppy!"
The other connection was when I thought the turnip greens were a little bland. I poured on them a condiment called Bruce's Tabasco Peppers in Vinegar, which was a bottle jammed with peppers and vinegar. It reminded me very much of Hawaiian chili pepper water.
I was too full to order dessert, but I did go to the Loveless Country Store, and sampled something called Piggy Popcorn: popcorn glazed with maple syrup and tossed with - yes, indeed - bacon! Extraordinary!
An incredible meal that ended a great week in Nashville.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. My reason for being in Nashville was for the Study on Ministry for the United Methodist Church. One of the highlights was a meditation given by one of our study members, Holger Eschmann. He shared from Isaiah 49:16 - "See, I [God] have inscribed you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me." Inscribed is a word that is not used so much anymore. Holger explained that in studying the word, an alternate meaning is "tattooed." This means that God has tattooed us on the palms of His hands. There is a sense of permanence to a tattoo - it's always there. That speaks volumes about the love God has for us. We may forget, but God never forgets.
At Loveless, I had another three meats: fried chicken, fried catfish, and country ham plus fried okra, grits, and turnip greens. I also had some of Loveless's famous biscuits.
Often, when a restaurant has a great recommendation and reviews, I find it somewhat disappointing. Not in this case. So far, this is the best fried chicken I have ever had. Yes, Hawaii people, Zippy's fried chicken is very good, but the chicken at Loveless is ethereal: a thin, light but crispy crust, perfectly seasoned; underneath is plump, tender, juicy meat that is simply amazing.
The country ham was good, especially when I cut a piece and put it between one of the fabulous biscuits. The fried catfish was excellent.
As for the sides: the grits made me realize why Pastor Mike and his wife Cris didn't say much when I said I liked the grits at Denny's in Kaneohe. The grits at Loveless were so much better: stone ground and impeccably cooked. Fried okra is something that many people outside of the South haven't eaten. It is a wonderful vegetable when cooked properly, as these were: batter fried, crispy on the outside and tender and flavorful on the inside. The turnip greens were good, although they are my least favorite type of greens: I would rate collard greens and kale above them, and mustard greens are my favorite of all. Somehow, mustard greens remind me of Korean kim chee jigae, which is cabbage kim chee that is long simmered with "side meat," just like greens.
A bit of amusement and proof that there is a connection between the South and Hawaii (the most southen state in the Union): I looked at the middle of my plate and thought I was back home. There was something that looked just like andagi, the Okinawan deep fried doughnut (more like a doughnut hole). After a few seconds, I realized that this was a hush puppy, which are morsels of cornmeal that are deep friend. Hush puppies are savory (andagi are sweet), with a bit of onion inside - deee-licious! The name supposedly comes from the aroma of hush puppies frying, which drove pet dogs crazy. The cook would toss one to a dog, and say, "Hush, puppy!"
The other connection was when I thought the turnip greens were a little bland. I poured on them a condiment called Bruce's Tabasco Peppers in Vinegar, which was a bottle jammed with peppers and vinegar. It reminded me very much of Hawaiian chili pepper water.
I was too full to order dessert, but I did go to the Loveless Country Store, and sampled something called Piggy Popcorn: popcorn glazed with maple syrup and tossed with - yes, indeed - bacon! Extraordinary!
An incredible meal that ended a great week in Nashville.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. My reason for being in Nashville was for the Study on Ministry for the United Methodist Church. One of the highlights was a meditation given by one of our study members, Holger Eschmann. He shared from Isaiah 49:16 - "See, I [God] have inscribed you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me." Inscribed is a word that is not used so much anymore. Holger explained that in studying the word, an alternate meaning is "tattooed." This means that God has tattooed us on the palms of His hands. There is a sense of permanence to a tattoo - it's always there. That speaks volumes about the love God has for us. We may forget, but God never forgets.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Barbecue!
I just came back from Jack's Bar-B-Cue in Nashville, Tennessee, said by many to be the best barbecue in this city. I had the Three Meats Combo, and chose Tennessee Pork Shoulder, Texas Beef Brisket, and St. Louis Ribs. I also had three kinds of sauce: a Tennessee vinegar based sauce, a Texas tomato based sauce, and a Kansas City Sweet and Hot. It was all very good, especially the ribs, which had a deep, to the bone smokiness. On this day, the Kansas City Sweet and Hot was the best. The aroma of the smoke is still on my fingers. So as long as I have it on the mind, the nose, and fingers, let's talk barbecue:
1. Away from the South, many people think that barbecuing is preparing charcoal briquettes, putting down a grill and quick cooking cuts of meat like steak and burgers for several minutes. That's actually more properly known as grilling. True barbecue is to cook large pieces of meat for several hours by indirect heat using hardwood.
2. Many types of meat can be barbecued, such as pork, beef, or chicken. Most places famous for barbecue specialize in pork, such as spareribs. The Tennessee Pork Shoulder was a "pulled pork," meaning the cooked and tender pork is pulled apart and often chopped. When you say "barbecue" in North Carolina, you are also talking about pulled pork, chopped up and served on a bun with some cool, fresh coleslaw.
3. Texas is a place of its own when it comes to barbecue and almost everything else (perhaps it's for a good reason that it is nicknamed the Lone Star State). Texas is not really considered to be part of the South. Texans are, well, Texans. Texas is most famous for beef barbecue, usually brisket, instead of pork.
4. So who has the best barbecue? In my experience, I'd have to say that all around, Arthur Bryant's in Kansas City is the best, although Jack Stack, also in Kansas City, is right up there. For chopped barbecue, I loved Ted Hill's in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
Believe it or not, Los Angeles has some excellent barbecue. The best is Phillips in Leimert Park, in the Crenshaw District, far away from the glitz of Hollywood. The pork ribs are very tender and the sauce is great. There are actually two types: mild and hot. The hot is very hot, so I have usually opted for mild and hot mixed. Worth mentioning for the slogan alone is Mr. Jim's, on Vermont Ave., with fall off the bone tender barbecue: "You don't 'teef" to eat Mr. Jim's beef."
5. Hawaii doesn't have great barbecue in the Southern style, but kalua pig, cooked in an underground oven known as the imu is in the same spirit of slow cooking. Kalua pig is somewhat similar to pulled pork. In fact, I know of a few restaurants who put Kansas City style barbecue sauce on kalua pork.
Deb Hopkins used to have a retail outlet known as Deb's Soul Food in Kailua. It was actually excellent Soul food, if a bit pricey. She still markets a very good barbecue sauce especially for ribs: http://debsribs.com.
So...what's the best 'cue to you?
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Barbecue is the descendent of the primitive open fire cooking first done by our ancestors. In a podcast, I heard that food writer Michael Pollan decided to go back to the basics of eating and hunted animals, butchered, and cooked them to see if he could still eat meat when he had to go through the entire process, instead of just picking up a cellophane wrapped cut at the market. He found that not only could he continue to eat meat, but that the whole process made him much more grateful for the sacrifice the animal was making to feed him. He said that he understands much more clearly why people say grace over meals, because of the gratitude of being able to eat and the gratitude for the animals that made their meals. I hope that we always are grateful for the food that we are blessed to have, and to thank God for ultimately being the one who has provided it for us.
1. Away from the South, many people think that barbecuing is preparing charcoal briquettes, putting down a grill and quick cooking cuts of meat like steak and burgers for several minutes. That's actually more properly known as grilling. True barbecue is to cook large pieces of meat for several hours by indirect heat using hardwood.
2. Many types of meat can be barbecued, such as pork, beef, or chicken. Most places famous for barbecue specialize in pork, such as spareribs. The Tennessee Pork Shoulder was a "pulled pork," meaning the cooked and tender pork is pulled apart and often chopped. When you say "barbecue" in North Carolina, you are also talking about pulled pork, chopped up and served on a bun with some cool, fresh coleslaw.
3. Texas is a place of its own when it comes to barbecue and almost everything else (perhaps it's for a good reason that it is nicknamed the Lone Star State). Texas is not really considered to be part of the South. Texans are, well, Texans. Texas is most famous for beef barbecue, usually brisket, instead of pork.
4. So who has the best barbecue? In my experience, I'd have to say that all around, Arthur Bryant's in Kansas City is the best, although Jack Stack, also in Kansas City, is right up there. For chopped barbecue, I loved Ted Hill's in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
Believe it or not, Los Angeles has some excellent barbecue. The best is Phillips in Leimert Park, in the Crenshaw District, far away from the glitz of Hollywood. The pork ribs are very tender and the sauce is great. There are actually two types: mild and hot. The hot is very hot, so I have usually opted for mild and hot mixed. Worth mentioning for the slogan alone is Mr. Jim's, on Vermont Ave., with fall off the bone tender barbecue: "You don't 'teef" to eat Mr. Jim's beef."
5. Hawaii doesn't have great barbecue in the Southern style, but kalua pig, cooked in an underground oven known as the imu is in the same spirit of slow cooking. Kalua pig is somewhat similar to pulled pork. In fact, I know of a few restaurants who put Kansas City style barbecue sauce on kalua pork.
Deb Hopkins used to have a retail outlet known as Deb's Soul Food in Kailua. It was actually excellent Soul food, if a bit pricey. She still markets a very good barbecue sauce especially for ribs: http://debsribs.com.
So...what's the best 'cue to you?
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Barbecue is the descendent of the primitive open fire cooking first done by our ancestors. In a podcast, I heard that food writer Michael Pollan decided to go back to the basics of eating and hunted animals, butchered, and cooked them to see if he could still eat meat when he had to go through the entire process, instead of just picking up a cellophane wrapped cut at the market. He found that not only could he continue to eat meat, but that the whole process made him much more grateful for the sacrifice the animal was making to feed him. He said that he understands much more clearly why people say grace over meals, because of the gratitude of being able to eat and the gratitude for the animals that made their meals. I hope that we always are grateful for the food that we are blessed to have, and to thank God for ultimately being the one who has provided it for us.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Rice
The other evening at our Thursday Bible study, Doug, one of our members and host of the study, made a delicious dish with the retro name of Shrimp Diable, from a cookbook that looked to be from the 1960's: Shrimp sauteed in a brown sauce with brandy, shallots, chervil, parsley.
Doug requested rice. What kind to bring? Well, let's break them down:
1. Rice comes in many forms with three basic sizes: short grain, medium grain, long grain. Rice is also differentiated based on stickiness.
White rice has been processed to remove the bran, which gives brown rice its color. In an earlier time, the disease beriberi became widespread among people who began to eat white rice. It was discovered that the bran that was polished off contained much needed thiamin, and when brown rice was re-introduced, the disease was controlled.
2. In the 1980's, the late actor Jim Varney (Jed Clampett in the film version of the "Beverly Hillbillies") portrayed a character in commercials named Ernest P. Worrell ("Hey Vern...know whut ah mean?"). Based in Nashville, Varney did a string of commercials for a local Hawaii bank. One of them had Ernest telling his unseen pal Vern about the items at his casual luau. I remember reading a newspaper article which revealed that the script originally called for Ernest saying, "I've got your sticky rice," until the Mainland based director cut the word "sticky." The Hawaii representatives insisted that the word be restored, saying that "sticky rice is something we like."
Sticky rice is most often associated with short grain and most medium grain rice. Short grain rice is used to make sushi or Korean kimbab (kim is Korean style seaweed sheets like Japanese nori, bab is the Korean word for cooked rice - sal is the word for uncooked rice) because it has the right amount of stickiness to hold together the shapes the rice is molded into but it isn't so sticky as to distract from the other ingredients. Japanese and Korean cuisines tend to use stickier, shorter grain rice.
Sweet rice is the stickiest, usually short grain and is often made into Japanese mochi or Korean duk. The one exception is Thai sticky rice, which is long grain rice that is very sticky (and very prized).
3. Long grain rice tends to be less sticky, and in the case of Jasmine rice, can be highly aromatic. Chinese and Indochinese (Vietnamese, Thai, etc.) cuisines often use long grain rice.
Europeans and Americans tend to use long grain rice as well, so when Doug asked for rice, I made a pot of long grain rice.
4. One of the most unusual weddings I ever did was for a couple named Brian (who was Chinese) and Rika (who was Japanese). They actually wrote in their vows that each would love the other despite the fact that each ate the wrong kind of rice (long grain versus short grain).
Here in Hawaii, shorter grain, sticky rice dominates. I have found an interesting compromise: at New Mui Kwai Chop Suey Restaurant in Kailua, I always thought that the rice was different there than anywhere else (my daughters just gobble it up). I learned that they use a combination of short grain and long grain rice, perhaps to keep somewhat true to the Chinese standard, and yielding to the local Hawaii preference.
In my house, brown rice is mixed in with white rice, because I don't care for the taste and texture of brown rice (yes, I know it's good for you, but if God wanted human beings to eat bird seed, we would have been created to be birds). There is a new process that improves the taste and texture of brown rice, but I suspect that the nutritional value is stripped away just like white rice.
5. Jook, or Chinese rice porridge, is a great winter dish or breakfast meal. It's also terrific when you are feeling sick. Here's a super easy recipe (it's not fancy at all, but you can dress it up with cilantro, more ginger, peanuts, etc.). My kids love it.
To make jook, remember to use about ten times as much liquid as rice (must be short grain or medium grain white rice). I do about a 1 to 1 ratio of water to chicken broth. I usually empty the contents of a 46 ounce can of chicken broth and add about 8 cups of water (I prefer to use an enameled cast iron Dutch oven). Add a few slices of fresh ginger. Bring it to a boil and then add a cup and a half of rice. Lower heat and simmer until the consistency of porridge. Add shoyu to taste. My daughter and I prefer it plain, but you can add the ingredients mentioned above along with a drizzle of sesame oil.
Enjoy....
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Japanese Theologian Masao Takenaka wrote a book called "God Is Rice." In it, he shares a poem by Korean poet Kim Chi Ha. It speaks eloquently to rice as a metaphor for God: heavenly, nourishing, and important for community:
Doug requested rice. What kind to bring? Well, let's break them down:
1. Rice comes in many forms with three basic sizes: short grain, medium grain, long grain. Rice is also differentiated based on stickiness.
White rice has been processed to remove the bran, which gives brown rice its color. In an earlier time, the disease beriberi became widespread among people who began to eat white rice. It was discovered that the bran that was polished off contained much needed thiamin, and when brown rice was re-introduced, the disease was controlled.
2. In the 1980's, the late actor Jim Varney (Jed Clampett in the film version of the "Beverly Hillbillies") portrayed a character in commercials named Ernest P. Worrell ("Hey Vern...know whut ah mean?"). Based in Nashville, Varney did a string of commercials for a local Hawaii bank. One of them had Ernest telling his unseen pal Vern about the items at his casual luau. I remember reading a newspaper article which revealed that the script originally called for Ernest saying, "I've got your sticky rice," until the Mainland based director cut the word "sticky." The Hawaii representatives insisted that the word be restored, saying that "sticky rice is something we like."
Sticky rice is most often associated with short grain and most medium grain rice. Short grain rice is used to make sushi or Korean kimbab (kim is Korean style seaweed sheets like Japanese nori, bab is the Korean word for cooked rice - sal is the word for uncooked rice) because it has the right amount of stickiness to hold together the shapes the rice is molded into but it isn't so sticky as to distract from the other ingredients. Japanese and Korean cuisines tend to use stickier, shorter grain rice.
Sweet rice is the stickiest, usually short grain and is often made into Japanese mochi or Korean duk. The one exception is Thai sticky rice, which is long grain rice that is very sticky (and very prized).
3. Long grain rice tends to be less sticky, and in the case of Jasmine rice, can be highly aromatic. Chinese and Indochinese (Vietnamese, Thai, etc.) cuisines often use long grain rice.
Europeans and Americans tend to use long grain rice as well, so when Doug asked for rice, I made a pot of long grain rice.
4. One of the most unusual weddings I ever did was for a couple named Brian (who was Chinese) and Rika (who was Japanese). They actually wrote in their vows that each would love the other despite the fact that each ate the wrong kind of rice (long grain versus short grain).
Here in Hawaii, shorter grain, sticky rice dominates. I have found an interesting compromise: at New Mui Kwai Chop Suey Restaurant in Kailua, I always thought that the rice was different there than anywhere else (my daughters just gobble it up). I learned that they use a combination of short grain and long grain rice, perhaps to keep somewhat true to the Chinese standard, and yielding to the local Hawaii preference.
In my house, brown rice is mixed in with white rice, because I don't care for the taste and texture of brown rice (yes, I know it's good for you, but if God wanted human beings to eat bird seed, we would have been created to be birds). There is a new process that improves the taste and texture of brown rice, but I suspect that the nutritional value is stripped away just like white rice.
5. Jook, or Chinese rice porridge, is a great winter dish or breakfast meal. It's also terrific when you are feeling sick. Here's a super easy recipe (it's not fancy at all, but you can dress it up with cilantro, more ginger, peanuts, etc.). My kids love it.
To make jook, remember to use about ten times as much liquid as rice (must be short grain or medium grain white rice). I do about a 1 to 1 ratio of water to chicken broth. I usually empty the contents of a 46 ounce can of chicken broth and add about 8 cups of water (I prefer to use an enameled cast iron Dutch oven). Add a few slices of fresh ginger. Bring it to a boil and then add a cup and a half of rice. Lower heat and simmer until the consistency of porridge. Add shoyu to taste. My daughter and I prefer it plain, but you can add the ingredients mentioned above along with a drizzle of sesame oil.
Enjoy....
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Japanese Theologian Masao Takenaka wrote a book called "God Is Rice." In it, he shares a poem by Korean poet Kim Chi Ha. It speaks eloquently to rice as a metaphor for God: heavenly, nourishing, and important for community:
Heaven is rice
As we cannot go to heaven alone
We should share rice with one another
As all share the light of the heavenly stars
We should share and eat rice together
Heaven is rice
When we eat and swallow rice
Heaven dwells in our body
Rice is heaven
Yes rice is the matter
We should all eat together
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Loco Moco, Clarified
Albert Lau, Becky's uncle, saw my post on Loco Moco in Hawaiian Food, Part 2 - Local Style. He told me that he and his friends used to help out at a restaurant in Hilo. They got to asking for the combination of rice, hamburger, eggs, and brown gravy. This is what he wrote:
"It started at the old Kinoole Drive In. The word loco was named by the waitress who used to call us loco for ordering that dish. My friend, [the late] Herbert 'Shange' Asakura, asked her, 'Why don't you put it on the menu?' The waitress asked what we should call that dish. We all thought and Shange came up with the name moco since it sounded good. That how loco moco got its name."
The dish caught on, including, presumably, the Lincoln Grill, credited by Wikipedia for inventing the dish. According to Uncle Albert. Cafe 100 apparently trademarked the name, which is why loco moco is identified with that restaurant.
There you have it. Authentic oral (in every sense of the word) history! Thanks, Uncle Albert: I definitely think yours is the genuine story.
"It started at the old Kinoole Drive In. The word loco was named by the waitress who used to call us loco for ordering that dish. My friend, [the late] Herbert 'Shange' Asakura, asked her, 'Why don't you put it on the menu?' The waitress asked what we should call that dish. We all thought and Shange came up with the name moco since it sounded good. That how loco moco got its name."
The dish caught on, including, presumably, the Lincoln Grill, credited by Wikipedia for inventing the dish. According to Uncle Albert. Cafe 100 apparently trademarked the name, which is why loco moco is identified with that restaurant.
There you have it. Authentic oral (in every sense of the word) history! Thanks, Uncle Albert: I definitely think yours is the genuine story.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
The Best Shave Ice?
Okay...my longtime friend Doug Sakurai asked me to mention a particular shave ice stand. So it's time to run down the best shave ice places on Oahu.
Shave Ice (yes, grammar mavens, I am aware that in proper standard English, I should use the adjective "shaved," but if you're complaining, you don't live in Hawaii, and you probably have never had shave ice) is the perfect treat for the warm weather in Hawaii. It probably came to Hawaii courtesy of Japanese immigrants, who likely brought over the practice of shaving ice with sweetened azuki beans. This evolved to flavored syrups, with azuki beans, ice cream, mochi balls, and taro chunks added to the bottom of the cone. Shave ice is often topped with condensed milk, snowcap (a sweet creamy topping), or even li hing mui (a tart/spicy powder).
The quality of shave ice is mostly in the fineness of the ice shavings. The crunchy, coarse kind is favored by some, but it's not for me...you might as well have a sno cone (which just doesn't compare). Flavors help some, but is not the deal maker.
President Obama stopped by Island Snow in Kailua (Kailua Road near the beach) for shave ice. I would rate Island Snow as making a solid, good quality shave ice cone: pretty fine texture, and pretty good flavors.
Matsumoto's in Haleiwa is the best known shave ice place in Hawaii, and I have to admit they probably have the best tasting flavors, but I find the ice to be the coarser, crunchy kind. Baldwin's Sweet Shop is kind of like that as well. I've been told that Aoki's and H. Miura's are in that category.
Tat's Shave Ice truck is really great - good, fine ice texture - but I don't know where he is anymore, since I rarely see his truck parked at the Kokokahi YWCA in Kaneohe. He should be on Twitter. His vanilla ice cream is probably the best: he uses real vanilla beans in his ice cream.
Shimazu's is without a doubt the biggest shave ice ever as well as being one of the best. The "Big Larry" is as big your head, if you have a big head! The ice texture is very good and the flavors are as well. Shimazu's is hard to find and it's harder to find parking: it's at 330 School Street near the H-1 onramp Ewa bound near Liliha Street. If you've never been there, you should endure the endless search for parking and the long line at least once.
But I still have to say that the best shave ice on Oahu is at the Waiola Store, 2135 Waiola Ave (near King and McCully) and another location on Kapahulu Street near Waikiki. Hands down the best ice texture...I don't know how they do it...so soft that it's almost like pudding. They have ice cream, azuki beans, mochi balls, snowcap, li hing powder, condensed milk, the works. They also have a traditional Japanese style azuki bowl. To be honest, I think that some other places have better tasting flavors, but that is trumped by the otherworldly ice texture.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. My friend Doug always teases me about a sermon I delivered when I was a student pastor at Christ UMC in Honolulu over a quarter century ago. He and his friends were visiting and we went to Waiola Store for shave ice several times. When he and his friends came to church, I decided, on a whim, to shoe horn an illustration in the sermon and said "God is not like shave ice." They all thought it was the worst sermon they had ever heard.
P. P. S. Many years later: our church has been making shave ice for a decade to benefit the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. We're at the annual Kailua Fourth of July parade and other events. We are proud and blessed to have been able to raise thousands of dollars to benefit the effort to battle cancer....with shave ice. Something as innocuous as shave ice has been used to be a blessing in surprising ways.
Shave Ice (yes, grammar mavens, I am aware that in proper standard English, I should use the adjective "shaved," but if you're complaining, you don't live in Hawaii, and you probably have never had shave ice) is the perfect treat for the warm weather in Hawaii. It probably came to Hawaii courtesy of Japanese immigrants, who likely brought over the practice of shaving ice with sweetened azuki beans. This evolved to flavored syrups, with azuki beans, ice cream, mochi balls, and taro chunks added to the bottom of the cone. Shave ice is often topped with condensed milk, snowcap (a sweet creamy topping), or even li hing mui (a tart/spicy powder).
The quality of shave ice is mostly in the fineness of the ice shavings. The crunchy, coarse kind is favored by some, but it's not for me...you might as well have a sno cone (which just doesn't compare). Flavors help some, but is not the deal maker.
President Obama stopped by Island Snow in Kailua (Kailua Road near the beach) for shave ice. I would rate Island Snow as making a solid, good quality shave ice cone: pretty fine texture, and pretty good flavors.
Matsumoto's in Haleiwa is the best known shave ice place in Hawaii, and I have to admit they probably have the best tasting flavors, but I find the ice to be the coarser, crunchy kind. Baldwin's Sweet Shop is kind of like that as well. I've been told that Aoki's and H. Miura's are in that category.
Tat's Shave Ice truck is really great - good, fine ice texture - but I don't know where he is anymore, since I rarely see his truck parked at the Kokokahi YWCA in Kaneohe. He should be on Twitter. His vanilla ice cream is probably the best: he uses real vanilla beans in his ice cream.
Shimazu's is without a doubt the biggest shave ice ever as well as being one of the best. The "Big Larry" is as big your head, if you have a big head! The ice texture is very good and the flavors are as well. Shimazu's is hard to find and it's harder to find parking: it's at 330 School Street near the H-1 onramp Ewa bound near Liliha Street. If you've never been there, you should endure the endless search for parking and the long line at least once.
But I still have to say that the best shave ice on Oahu is at the Waiola Store, 2135 Waiola Ave (near King and McCully) and another location on Kapahulu Street near Waikiki. Hands down the best ice texture...I don't know how they do it...so soft that it's almost like pudding. They have ice cream, azuki beans, mochi balls, snowcap, li hing powder, condensed milk, the works. They also have a traditional Japanese style azuki bowl. To be honest, I think that some other places have better tasting flavors, but that is trumped by the otherworldly ice texture.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. My friend Doug always teases me about a sermon I delivered when I was a student pastor at Christ UMC in Honolulu over a quarter century ago. He and his friends were visiting and we went to Waiola Store for shave ice several times. When he and his friends came to church, I decided, on a whim, to shoe horn an illustration in the sermon and said "God is not like shave ice." They all thought it was the worst sermon they had ever heard.
P. P. S. Many years later: our church has been making shave ice for a decade to benefit the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. We're at the annual Kailua Fourth of July parade and other events. We are proud and blessed to have been able to raise thousands of dollars to benefit the effort to battle cancer....with shave ice. Something as innocuous as shave ice has been used to be a blessing in surprising ways.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Hawaiian Food, Part 2: Local Style
Now we get into what is confusing for many people about food in Hawaii. Saying simply "Hawaiian food" should refer to what I described in the last post: food traditionally prepared by indigenous Hawaiian people. Local style food from Hawaii refers to the following:
1. Food that has been adopted or adapted from other places. A lot of this originated in the ethnic mix that resulted from the workers from many places to work the plantations, the largest and most common being those plantations owned by sugar companies. I would highly recommend a visit to the Hawaii Plantation Village, which preserves buildings and history from that bygone era of Hawaii's history. http://www.hawaiiplantationvillage.org/
The different groups (Hawaiians, Japanese, Okinawans, Portuguese, Filipinos, Chinese, Koreans, Puerto Ricans, and others) lived among each other and both preserved their culture and also shared it. Food became a common denominator.
Nowadays, you see the evidence of that. To name just a few: Japanese teriyaki (a sweet and savory preparation for beef, chicken, and fish) and chicken katsu (breaded chicken deep fried and served with a special sauce), Korean kalbi (short ribs) and kimchee (usually spicy pickled cabbage), Okinawan sweet potatoes (the purple kind, easy to prepare: just boil or bake and slice), Portuguese sausage (the first successful commercial brand was Gouvea's in 1933, and some of the original company's family members attend Kailua UMC - the brand is now owned by a different company), Filipino lumpia (kind of like egg rolls but longer), Chinese gau gee (also like egg rolls, but longer and bigger), saimin (noodles in broth), oxtail soup, etc.
Rice became the dominant starch, and not only because many of the plantation workers were Asian. Rice was and is a staple that is simpler to prepare and has a longer shelf life than potatoes. With potatoes, the quantity of cooked to uncooked product is basically the same; you also have waste water as most of the cooking water is not used. Cooked rice absorbs all of the cooking water and becomes larger in quantity than uncooked rice. Plantations looking for a cheap way to feed the workers soon preferred rice over potatoes.
This led to the widespread development of the ubiquitous macaroni salad, which is the traditional accompaniment to any plate lunch. Potato salad was made, but again with the problems of storage, shelf life, and extra cooking steps (boiling, cooling, chopping). Sometime along the way, someone figured out that macaroni, a dry pasta with a longer shelf life and that also increases in size with cooking, would be cheaper and easier than potato salad.
2. Local style food also evolved from the realities of living on the most remote island chain on earth (the Hawaiian islands are the furthest from any continental land mass) and from the use of Hawaii as military installations. Canned food was prevalent because it could be shipped on boats safely and for long periods.
The best known of these is Spam, Hormel's celebrated and reviled "SPiced hAM," but actually made mostly from pork shoulder.
Spam makes its way to many local dishes, such as an accompaniment to eggs and rice for breakfast, a garnish for saimin, and in Spam musubi, rice formed into an oblong shape with a slice of fried Spam on top, all wrapped in a sheet of nori, which is made from seaweeed.
3. Some local dishes were apparently an invention of necessity. Loco moco is a legendary dish in Hawaii: a bed of rice, a hamburger patty, eggs (for me, over easy), and brown gravy poured all over (absolutely delicious, but yes, heart-stoppingly rich). There are many different theories as to how it was invented. Wikipedia credits the Lincoln Grill for the invention. Loyal to my family, I contend that the idea was conceived by my wife's uncle, who worked at a restaurant until late at night. When work was pau (finished), he wanted something to eat and what was left was rice, hamburger, and eggs. He had the cook put brown gravy over it, and there was the first loco moco, although he didn't name it that.
However the actual origin, there is no debate that it was invented on the Big Island of Hawaii, and most agree that the Cafe 100 in Hilo made loco moco popular. Apparently, the name was invented because the dish was described as crazy, and loco is the Spanish word for crazy. The moco part was added for rhyming reasons, without any idea what that meant.
When I talked about this dish with one of the members of my church who spoke Spanish and was from Texas, he was absolutely mortified. He said, "Do you know what loco moco means? It means "crazy [mucous]!!" Oh well, gross name, great dish.
You can get good loco moco almost anywhere. In Kailua, the best are from Cinnamon's and Times restaurants. If you had to ask me, however, which one is my favorite, it would probably be the one at the Like Like Drive-in on Keeaumoku Street in Honolulu. But it's definitely a personal thing and there are different opinions as to whose is best.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Another thing I love about Hawaii is the ethnic diversity. There is no majority group here, and although prejudice is still present in some forms, there is definitely much more understanding and respect for different cultures and ethnicities than just about anywhere else. I think this is on the right track to what God had in mind when all of the languages of earth were understood by the people at the Day of Pentecost (Acts 2). Who knows, maybe it had something to do with the food...just a little later on, the people were all eating and sharing together. Maybe it was a big potluck and eating each other's food was a great way to connect. Thank God for diversity and food!
1. Food that has been adopted or adapted from other places. A lot of this originated in the ethnic mix that resulted from the workers from many places to work the plantations, the largest and most common being those plantations owned by sugar companies. I would highly recommend a visit to the Hawaii Plantation Village, which preserves buildings and history from that bygone era of Hawaii's history. http://www.hawaiiplantationvillage.org/
The different groups (Hawaiians, Japanese, Okinawans, Portuguese, Filipinos, Chinese, Koreans, Puerto Ricans, and others) lived among each other and both preserved their culture and also shared it. Food became a common denominator.
Nowadays, you see the evidence of that. To name just a few: Japanese teriyaki (a sweet and savory preparation for beef, chicken, and fish) and chicken katsu (breaded chicken deep fried and served with a special sauce), Korean kalbi (short ribs) and kimchee (usually spicy pickled cabbage), Okinawan sweet potatoes (the purple kind, easy to prepare: just boil or bake and slice), Portuguese sausage (the first successful commercial brand was Gouvea's in 1933, and some of the original company's family members attend Kailua UMC - the brand is now owned by a different company), Filipino lumpia (kind of like egg rolls but longer), Chinese gau gee (also like egg rolls, but longer and bigger), saimin (noodles in broth), oxtail soup, etc.
Rice became the dominant starch, and not only because many of the plantation workers were Asian. Rice was and is a staple that is simpler to prepare and has a longer shelf life than potatoes. With potatoes, the quantity of cooked to uncooked product is basically the same; you also have waste water as most of the cooking water is not used. Cooked rice absorbs all of the cooking water and becomes larger in quantity than uncooked rice. Plantations looking for a cheap way to feed the workers soon preferred rice over potatoes.
This led to the widespread development of the ubiquitous macaroni salad, which is the traditional accompaniment to any plate lunch. Potato salad was made, but again with the problems of storage, shelf life, and extra cooking steps (boiling, cooling, chopping). Sometime along the way, someone figured out that macaroni, a dry pasta with a longer shelf life and that also increases in size with cooking, would be cheaper and easier than potato salad.
2. Local style food also evolved from the realities of living on the most remote island chain on earth (the Hawaiian islands are the furthest from any continental land mass) and from the use of Hawaii as military installations. Canned food was prevalent because it could be shipped on boats safely and for long periods.
The best known of these is Spam, Hormel's celebrated and reviled "SPiced hAM," but actually made mostly from pork shoulder.
Spam makes its way to many local dishes, such as an accompaniment to eggs and rice for breakfast, a garnish for saimin, and in Spam musubi, rice formed into an oblong shape with a slice of fried Spam on top, all wrapped in a sheet of nori, which is made from seaweeed.
3. Some local dishes were apparently an invention of necessity. Loco moco is a legendary dish in Hawaii: a bed of rice, a hamburger patty, eggs (for me, over easy), and brown gravy poured all over (absolutely delicious, but yes, heart-stoppingly rich). There are many different theories as to how it was invented. Wikipedia credits the Lincoln Grill for the invention. Loyal to my family, I contend that the idea was conceived by my wife's uncle, who worked at a restaurant until late at night. When work was pau (finished), he wanted something to eat and what was left was rice, hamburger, and eggs. He had the cook put brown gravy over it, and there was the first loco moco, although he didn't name it that.
However the actual origin, there is no debate that it was invented on the Big Island of Hawaii, and most agree that the Cafe 100 in Hilo made loco moco popular. Apparently, the name was invented because the dish was described as crazy, and loco is the Spanish word for crazy. The moco part was added for rhyming reasons, without any idea what that meant.
When I talked about this dish with one of the members of my church who spoke Spanish and was from Texas, he was absolutely mortified. He said, "Do you know what loco moco means? It means "crazy [mucous]!!" Oh well, gross name, great dish.
You can get good loco moco almost anywhere. In Kailua, the best are from Cinnamon's and Times restaurants. If you had to ask me, however, which one is my favorite, it would probably be the one at the Like Like Drive-in on Keeaumoku Street in Honolulu. But it's definitely a personal thing and there are different opinions as to whose is best.
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. Another thing I love about Hawaii is the ethnic diversity. There is no majority group here, and although prejudice is still present in some forms, there is definitely much more understanding and respect for different cultures and ethnicities than just about anywhere else. I think this is on the right track to what God had in mind when all of the languages of earth were understood by the people at the Day of Pentecost (Acts 2). Who knows, maybe it had something to do with the food...just a little later on, the people were all eating and sharing together. Maybe it was a big potluck and eating each other's food was a great way to connect. Thank God for diversity and food!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Traditional Hawaiian Food, including Haili's
Sometimes, there is a little confusion about exactly what Hawaiian food is. Basically, there are three categories: food that native Hawaiians have traditionally prepared; local food that developed from the ethnic mix unique to Hawaii; and Hawaiian Regional Cuisine, a gourmet fusion style of cooking by top chefs. I'll start this post with traditional Hawaiian food, and blog about the others in future posts.
Traditional Hawaiian food consists mostly of selection that have their roots in the Polynesian culture. Most of the time, we identify Hawaiian food with the feast known as the luau. Often, a luau will consist of some or all of the following:
Poi is taro - kalo in Hawaiian - that has been pounded into a paste and eaten as a staple, like rice. Some complain that it has no taste, but it has a delicate flavor. Poi is not ordinarily meant to be eaten by itself (unless it was your baby food, as it was for my wife Becky, and both of my daughters) but eaten with other savory foods. Some prefer poi that has fermented a few days, so that it is more sour. If you are new to poi, you may prefer fresh poi. If you are in the latter category, I would recommend Hanalei Poi, which is made by a special process that keeps the poi fresher much longer.
Kalua Pig, salted, smoked, and pulled pork that has been roasted in the underground oven known as an imu. It is sometimes sauteed with cabbage as a stretcher.
Laulau is pork, fish, or chicken that is combined with luau leaves (young taro leaves) and wrapped in banana leaves and steamed.
Squid or chicken luau is a stew-like dish made from simmering luau leaves with coconut milk and adding the squid or chicken to it. It kind of has the consistency of thin creamed spinach, and it doesn't look very appetizing, but it is absolutely delicious.
Poke is usually raw (or sometimes flash fried) fish that has been but into cubes and highly seasoned. Ahi tuna is most commonly used in poke, but au, or marlin, is also commonly used. Sometimes other ingredients are used, such as crab, tofu and even steak (all are terrific!). Limu, or seaweed, is a common ingredient, as is inamona, a condiment made from kukui nuts, which most people recognize as the black stone-like objects made into lei. Modern poke is often made with shoyu, onions, sesame oil, and sometimes tomatoes.
At a very traditional luau, you might see opihi, limpets, that are eaten raw. These are very precious delicacies, as they are dangerous to harvest. Harvesters must look for them among seaside rocks. Because they usually have to turn their backs to the surf, they risk being pounded into the rocks.
Pipikaula is Hawaiian style beef jerky, smoked and salted, but not quite as dry as the beef jerky you might find at a supermarket.
Haupia is a dessert made from coconut. You will find it served by itself in squares, or added to pies or cakes, such as the justifiably famous haupia custard pie from Deluxe Bakery in Kaneohe or the chocolate haupia pie from Ted's. Haupia cake is also great. I have to say that the best one I've ever had is actually from Ishigo Bakery in Gardena, California.
Chicken long rice is luau food, but I question if this made its way from Polynesia to Hawaii back in the day. The ingredients are chicken, broth, long rice (aka maifun, or rice stick noodles, which were invented in Asia), ginger, green onions, and salt. My guess is that Chinese cooking influenced Hawaiian homes, and this dish emerged.
Lomilomi salmon is another dish that I question as purely Hawaiian food. It is made from salt salmon, onions, tomatoes, and salt. I am guessing that salt salmon, a preserved fish, was one of the few seafood items that could be shipped to Hawaii safely, before air freight became more common.The salmon is squeezed and pressed to make smaller pieces, or in other words, massaged. The Hawaiian term for this is lomilomi, which is also why you would want to receive lomilomi if your back is sore (the massage, not the food).
Today, my family and I discovered Haili's Hawaiian Food, a dining truck in the parking lot next to Ward Warehouse and across from the Ward Entertainment Center. I learned that they had previously been at the Ward Farmer's Market but lost their lease. Good Hawaiian food at pretty good prices. Becky had a pulehu (Hawaiian style grilled) steak plate with a romaine and mesclun (mixed baby greens) salad for $7.50. I had a Hawaiian poke bowl for $5.50: a generous portion of ahi shoyu poke over rice with two pieces of Okinawan sweet potatoes. We'll go back again.
Aloha pumehana (warm love to you),
Tom
P. S. There is something very special about Hawaii and the work of the Holy Spirit. Just being here can't help but evoke something very powerful about the creative work of God. Take a moment to give thanks for this incredible place that is evidence that a great God exists and loves us very much!
Traditional Hawaiian food consists mostly of selection that have their roots in the Polynesian culture. Most of the time, we identify Hawaiian food with the feast known as the luau. Often, a luau will consist of some or all of the following:
Poi is taro - kalo in Hawaiian - that has been pounded into a paste and eaten as a staple, like rice. Some complain that it has no taste, but it has a delicate flavor. Poi is not ordinarily meant to be eaten by itself (unless it was your baby food, as it was for my wife Becky, and both of my daughters) but eaten with other savory foods. Some prefer poi that has fermented a few days, so that it is more sour. If you are new to poi, you may prefer fresh poi. If you are in the latter category, I would recommend Hanalei Poi, which is made by a special process that keeps the poi fresher much longer.
Kalua Pig, salted, smoked, and pulled pork that has been roasted in the underground oven known as an imu. It is sometimes sauteed with cabbage as a stretcher.
Laulau is pork, fish, or chicken that is combined with luau leaves (young taro leaves) and wrapped in banana leaves and steamed.
Squid or chicken luau is a stew-like dish made from simmering luau leaves with coconut milk and adding the squid or chicken to it. It kind of has the consistency of thin creamed spinach, and it doesn't look very appetizing, but it is absolutely delicious.
Poke is usually raw (or sometimes flash fried) fish that has been but into cubes and highly seasoned. Ahi tuna is most commonly used in poke, but au, or marlin, is also commonly used. Sometimes other ingredients are used, such as crab, tofu and even steak (all are terrific!). Limu, or seaweed, is a common ingredient, as is inamona, a condiment made from kukui nuts, which most people recognize as the black stone-like objects made into lei. Modern poke is often made with shoyu, onions, sesame oil, and sometimes tomatoes.
At a very traditional luau, you might see opihi, limpets, that are eaten raw. These are very precious delicacies, as they are dangerous to harvest. Harvesters must look for them among seaside rocks. Because they usually have to turn their backs to the surf, they risk being pounded into the rocks.
Pipikaula is Hawaiian style beef jerky, smoked and salted, but not quite as dry as the beef jerky you might find at a supermarket.
Haupia is a dessert made from coconut. You will find it served by itself in squares, or added to pies or cakes, such as the justifiably famous haupia custard pie from Deluxe Bakery in Kaneohe or the chocolate haupia pie from Ted's. Haupia cake is also great. I have to say that the best one I've ever had is actually from Ishigo Bakery in Gardena, California.
Chicken long rice is luau food, but I question if this made its way from Polynesia to Hawaii back in the day. The ingredients are chicken, broth, long rice (aka maifun, or rice stick noodles, which were invented in Asia), ginger, green onions, and salt. My guess is that Chinese cooking influenced Hawaiian homes, and this dish emerged.
Lomilomi salmon is another dish that I question as purely Hawaiian food. It is made from salt salmon, onions, tomatoes, and salt. I am guessing that salt salmon, a preserved fish, was one of the few seafood items that could be shipped to Hawaii safely, before air freight became more common.The salmon is squeezed and pressed to make smaller pieces, or in other words, massaged. The Hawaiian term for this is lomilomi, which is also why you would want to receive lomilomi if your back is sore (the massage, not the food).
Today, my family and I discovered Haili's Hawaiian Food, a dining truck in the parking lot next to Ward Warehouse and across from the Ward Entertainment Center. I learned that they had previously been at the Ward Farmer's Market but lost their lease. Good Hawaiian food at pretty good prices. Becky had a pulehu (Hawaiian style grilled) steak plate with a romaine and mesclun (mixed baby greens) salad for $7.50. I had a Hawaiian poke bowl for $5.50: a generous portion of ahi shoyu poke over rice with two pieces of Okinawan sweet potatoes. We'll go back again.
Aloha pumehana (warm love to you),
Tom
P. S. There is something very special about Hawaii and the work of the Holy Spirit. Just being here can't help but evoke something very powerful about the creative work of God. Take a moment to give thanks for this incredible place that is evidence that a great God exists and loves us very much!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Italian Cuisine, Part One
Our Thursday Night Bible Study group had Italian night as the dinner theme. Italian cuisine is simply one of the best in the world. If I had to pick just one cuisine to eat every day, I would probably choose between Italian and Chinese (maybe because of the Marco Polo link?). I've visited Italy twice, once several years ago for five weeks when my sister, brother-in-law, and niece lived there (my sister and brother-in-law are back living there now for a couple of years).
1. The main dish was pasta pesto. Pesto is a multi-purpose sauce usually made with sweet basil, parmesan cheese, garlic, pine nuts, salt, and extra virgin olive oil. It seems that many Italian food products have a special city or region which is considered the definitive place for them. Pesto originated in Genoa, Christopher Columbus's hometown. Parmesan cheese is, naturally, from Parma. The best kind is called Parmigiano-Reggiano. I have to admit that because of the price, my family usually uses Kraft brand parmesan cheese, but on special occasions, nothing beats a good Parmigiano-Reggiano.
Extra-virgin olive oil refers to oil that comes from the first pressing of olives in the production of the oil. It is the most flavorful. Believe it or not, Costco has very good extra virgin olive oil.
The pasta shape used Thursday night was farfalle. Called "bow-tie" pasta in America, the word actually means "butterflies," a prettier name. Italians have great names for pasta, such as spaghetti ("little strings"), the corkscrew shaped fusilli ("little spindles"), and linguini ("little tongues"). Perhaps the least appetizing name in English is vermicelli (little worms).
2. We had delicious bruschetta at dinner. A little Italian pronunciation lesson: in English, the "sch" combination is pronounced like "sh," as in "shell;" in Italian, it is pronounced "sk" as in "skate." So the delicious dish which often consists of toast rounds, tomatoes, cheese, is pronounced broo-sket-ta, and not broo-shet-ta. I know...way too nit-picky, but I have a thing about pronunciation, especially, for some reason, Italian pronunciation. Please forgive me.
3. We had a homemade balsamic dressing to go along with the salad. The bruschetta that night had a wonderful balsamic reduction. Balsamic vinegar is most famously from Modena. Like olive oil, there are several grades of Balsamic vinegar, and the best is somewhat to very expensive. Top quality balsamic vinegar has a wonderful, delicate taste that even goes well with many things, including avocados (a little bit poured in the "bowl" formed by the removal of the pit) and even strawberries.
4. The mention of balsamic vinegar with strawberries sparked a discussion about pairing fruit with other things. The Italians often pair prosciutto (ham) with melon. We then talked about how many in the United States salt their watermelon. This is common in the South, but I first learned this from a friend from Michigan. The salt somehow enhances the flavor of the watermelon. I haven't done it in awhile (I get plenty of salt in other food), but have enjoyed it when I have. Who else in America salts their watermelon?
5. In America, we usually think of Ragu as a brand name for spaghetti sauce. In Italy, ragu refers to just about any meat based sauce. Perhaps the most famous Italian version is the one from Bologna. In America, we are more familiar with the ragu from Naples.
6. There is often quite a bit of difference between Italian and Italian American cuisine and customs. For example, the seafood stew we know as cioppino originated in San Francisco (just like you won't find chop suey in China - it also originated in America). If you go to Italy, don't cut your spaghetti and don't ask for a spoon to twirl it. Those are both American traditions.
7. The best Italian restaurant in Kailua? I think there are four contenders: Zia's (which means "Auntie's"), Buonasera ("Good evening"), Assaggio's ("Taste"), and Baci ("Kisses"). I think each has its merits. I think Zia's is the most friendly to traditional American palates (although one of our members who lived in Italy for many years said that Zia's was the most authentically Italian restaurant in Kailua...I'm not as sure, but it is good...and you're most likely to see members of my church there). Assaggio's has the best ambiance, and is the best at using garlic (e.g., the Caesar salad and the "clam Scampi," which is the closest to an authentic spaghetti alle vongole that I've had in Hawaii); Baci uses fresh pasta and feels the most like an Italian trattoria (casual restaurant). Buonasera has interesting combinations of ingredients, and one person I've dined with called it "the best Italian food I've eaten in my entire life."
What do you all think?
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. One of my favorite podcasts was about traveling to Italy. It was interesting that this podcaster (who never identified himself as a Christian) would frequently mention visiting churches as an important and natural part of touring Italy. I'm pretty sure he was recommending the churches strictly for their architectural and artistic qualities, but there is something truly powerful about the experience of these places that I hope - if you ever visit Italy - you will discover. My faith was definitely deepened during these visits. Perhaps the most powerful was the simplest. I don't even remember the church, because it was not really on the "must see" list in the guidebooks. It was in the midst of a very busy part of Rome, with cars, buses, motorcycles buzzing all around. I went into the church and then to the cloister in the middle of it. It was amazing. Even though the cloister was open air in the center, it was peacefully quiet. Somehow, the place was engineered so that the street noise could not be heard. All I could hear was the gentle trickle of the fountain at the very center of the cloister. It was a reminder that the peace that God offers takes an intentional effort to seek the quiet and spiritual.
It was also a reminder that the presence of God can be powerfully felt in unexpected places, even in a church.....
1. The main dish was pasta pesto. Pesto is a multi-purpose sauce usually made with sweet basil, parmesan cheese, garlic, pine nuts, salt, and extra virgin olive oil. It seems that many Italian food products have a special city or region which is considered the definitive place for them. Pesto originated in Genoa, Christopher Columbus's hometown. Parmesan cheese is, naturally, from Parma. The best kind is called Parmigiano-Reggiano. I have to admit that because of the price, my family usually uses Kraft brand parmesan cheese, but on special occasions, nothing beats a good Parmigiano-Reggiano.
Extra-virgin olive oil refers to oil that comes from the first pressing of olives in the production of the oil. It is the most flavorful. Believe it or not, Costco has very good extra virgin olive oil.
The pasta shape used Thursday night was farfalle. Called "bow-tie" pasta in America, the word actually means "butterflies," a prettier name. Italians have great names for pasta, such as spaghetti ("little strings"), the corkscrew shaped fusilli ("little spindles"), and linguini ("little tongues"). Perhaps the least appetizing name in English is vermicelli (little worms).
2. We had delicious bruschetta at dinner. A little Italian pronunciation lesson: in English, the "sch" combination is pronounced like "sh," as in "shell;" in Italian, it is pronounced "sk" as in "skate." So the delicious dish which often consists of toast rounds, tomatoes, cheese, is pronounced broo-sket-ta, and not broo-shet-ta. I know...way too nit-picky, but I have a thing about pronunciation, especially, for some reason, Italian pronunciation. Please forgive me.
3. We had a homemade balsamic dressing to go along with the salad. The bruschetta that night had a wonderful balsamic reduction. Balsamic vinegar is most famously from Modena. Like olive oil, there are several grades of Balsamic vinegar, and the best is somewhat to very expensive. Top quality balsamic vinegar has a wonderful, delicate taste that even goes well with many things, including avocados (a little bit poured in the "bowl" formed by the removal of the pit) and even strawberries.
4. The mention of balsamic vinegar with strawberries sparked a discussion about pairing fruit with other things. The Italians often pair prosciutto (ham) with melon. We then talked about how many in the United States salt their watermelon. This is common in the South, but I first learned this from a friend from Michigan. The salt somehow enhances the flavor of the watermelon. I haven't done it in awhile (I get plenty of salt in other food), but have enjoyed it when I have. Who else in America salts their watermelon?
5. In America, we usually think of Ragu as a brand name for spaghetti sauce. In Italy, ragu refers to just about any meat based sauce. Perhaps the most famous Italian version is the one from Bologna. In America, we are more familiar with the ragu from Naples.
6. There is often quite a bit of difference between Italian and Italian American cuisine and customs. For example, the seafood stew we know as cioppino originated in San Francisco (just like you won't find chop suey in China - it also originated in America). If you go to Italy, don't cut your spaghetti and don't ask for a spoon to twirl it. Those are both American traditions.
7. The best Italian restaurant in Kailua? I think there are four contenders: Zia's (which means "Auntie's"), Buonasera ("Good evening"), Assaggio's ("Taste"), and Baci ("Kisses"). I think each has its merits. I think Zia's is the most friendly to traditional American palates (although one of our members who lived in Italy for many years said that Zia's was the most authentically Italian restaurant in Kailua...I'm not as sure, but it is good...and you're most likely to see members of my church there). Assaggio's has the best ambiance, and is the best at using garlic (e.g., the Caesar salad and the "clam Scampi," which is the closest to an authentic spaghetti alle vongole that I've had in Hawaii); Baci uses fresh pasta and feels the most like an Italian trattoria (casual restaurant). Buonasera has interesting combinations of ingredients, and one person I've dined with called it "the best Italian food I've eaten in my entire life."
What do you all think?
Grace and aloha,
Tom
P. S. One of my favorite podcasts was about traveling to Italy. It was interesting that this podcaster (who never identified himself as a Christian) would frequently mention visiting churches as an important and natural part of touring Italy. I'm pretty sure he was recommending the churches strictly for their architectural and artistic qualities, but there is something truly powerful about the experience of these places that I hope - if you ever visit Italy - you will discover. My faith was definitely deepened during these visits. Perhaps the most powerful was the simplest. I don't even remember the church, because it was not really on the "must see" list in the guidebooks. It was in the midst of a very busy part of Rome, with cars, buses, motorcycles buzzing all around. I went into the church and then to the cloister in the middle of it. It was amazing. Even though the cloister was open air in the center, it was peacefully quiet. Somehow, the place was engineered so that the street noise could not be heard. All I could hear was the gentle trickle of the fountain at the very center of the cloister. It was a reminder that the peace that God offers takes an intentional effort to seek the quiet and spiritual.
It was also a reminder that the presence of God can be powerfully felt in unexpected places, even in a church.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)