Is That Salmon Ella?

[Nate sez]: I've encountered scores of the scarred and traumatized who flee at the sight of fish. I'll grin and inform my guests that they will be dining on an array of formerly finned creatures and I all I get in return are gasps of horror, uneasy looks, and drops of sweat dripping down foreheads.

Why does everyone seem to have an uncle that loved forcing twice-killed fish down their nieces' and nephews' throats? Am I responsible for showing people that fish is, like, really fucking good?

Now I'm sure a great deal of you who would bother to read this unpredictable mess Ben and I call a blog are already hip to the fact that fish, whether fatty or slim, small or large, fresh or frozen, DOA or canned is a beautiful thing. you can grill it, steam it, poach it, bake it, broil it, look at it, play with it, make funny faces at, or even just shove it in your gaping maw raw...or at least I know I like to do that.

But really, the most well-liked and easy to procure and prepare fish is Salmon. If you follow these five steps, I can almost guarantee that you will be shocked and awed by the sheer pleasure of it's juicy, fatty, delicious, healthy, salty, nutritiousliciousness.

#1. Don't spend a lot. I buy farmed, not that red, raised in squalid conditions Salmon that costs somewhere in the 'hood of 5-7 bucks a pound. What you want is marbled fish - look at that picture - all that white stuff is fish fat, that great shit your doctor's been trying to get you to eat. It also keeps the muscle fibers separate and lubed up so it turns out juicy and delicious. Make sure you buy your fish with skin on too.

#2. Crank your oven. Turn your oven onto 500 degrees F. And preheat it so you're fish hits the heat hard.

#3. Smell that Salmon! If your fish smells (and sometimes it does, though if you bought it the day you're cooking it, it probably won't) rinse it in the sink. "What!" you exclaim, "You want me to touch that thing, and like, get my hands on it?" Yeah, I do. And you're going to be rubbing stuff all over it soon so get over it already!

#4. Seasoning. Take a cookie sheet, lay some foil down and cover it up. Throw a bit of oil on there and rub with your dirty hand. Now take the Salmon and slap it down on the sheet. Put a bit of oil on the flesh and a lot of Kosher salt and pepper on there (NO IODIZED SALT) - just like a steak. Now rub it gently and whisper sweet nothings to your meat.

#5. Whacking. Put the freaking thing in the hot as hell oven. AND READ CAREFULLY...There is no such thing as an exact time your Salmon will take. Depending on the size, anywhere from 8 to 20 minutes. The thicker and bigger, the longer. You should poke your salmon to see if it's done. It is getting near done when the thick area of the flesh feels firmer than it did before you put it in - it should have a little give, but not too much. An over done piece feels like a clenched muscle. Even if you think it's a little underdone, take it out of the oven and let it sit for about 10 minutes with some foil gently placed over it.

NOTE: You will not die from undercooked salmon. In fact, you might even like it. As time goes on, you will learn how to judge the done-ness by experience. This is how good cooks are made.

[Ben sez]: The great thing about Salmon is that it goes well with so many wines, red or white. One thing remains constant: you want a wine that is fruity and juicy, most certainly not that dry, and is probably closer to a "drinking" wine than a "food" wine (meaning something that sucks unless you eat something with it). I suggest a light, cheap Pays d'Oc Pinot Noir like French Rabbit (in a box!?), or a Vouvray.

Vouvray is one of my favorite wines - it comes from the Loire Valley of France and is made from mostly Chenin Blanc. If you've had POS, way too dry, 16% Chenin Blancs from Aussieland and South Africa, you wouldn't even recognize Vouvray. The type I like is off-dry, which means it's not dry, but it isn't perceptibly sweet either. Ask your wine merchant for an inexpensive, off-dry Vouvray. It has strong notes of pears and apples, an understated minerality to provide structure, and is arguably one of the most agreeable wines around.

I haven't had any this year yet, so I can't really tell you what's good right now. Just ask your damn wine people. It is their job to know after all...

The Magical Fruit.

[Ben sez]: We've always focused on the food that was awesome. Transcendental experiences of taste, things that make you go blind with the pleasure of the moment, or make you question if life is worth living as few moments seem like they could possibly top the bite of food you just took.

Of course every day can't be like this, and if it were we probably wouldn't find the truly amazing meals as noteworthy. Most days you just want something good. It doesn't have to be mom's homemade comfort food, but I've found my own easy, filling (and fulfilling) meal which has changed the way I eat and I would choose over Mac'n'Cheese or a frozen pizza any day. Thinking about it might not make me salivate, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't eat foie gras numerous times a week and still feel good about myself (or my waistline).

In my case the staple of choice that I would, could, and do eat a bare minimum of three times a week is brown rice and black beans. It's tasty, it's filling, it's remarkably healthy, and as if that weren't enough ridiculously cheap. Everything I want from my everyday meal.

As you may or may not know brown rice is way healthier than white rice - containing all sorts of vitamins, nutrients, and fiber. Oh yeah, black beans are also wicked good for you. Between the two you get more nutrition than you know what to do with, and as an added bonus all that fiber will keep things more regular than Mussolini's trains.

I really can't sing the praises of this wonder-combo enough: fast, easy, and just damn good. If you're penny-pinching your way through college/unemployment/saving for something, maybe you should track down a 20 pound bag of brown rice and a pallet of black beans, it's responsible for getting me through pretty much every week (and maintaining my girlish figure). The lazy man in me just boils up some rice, opens a can of beans (with the addition of spices) and through the wonders of modern microwave technology dinner is ready in no time. If you're feeling a little fancier there's always the black bean soup/stew/chili route which requires the addition preparation of vegetables and having cans of corn and tomatoes on hand, but is a good way to change things up if you've had three meals of simple black beans with brown rice this week and it's only Tuesday.

Oh, and if you have some brown rice left over you can always make fried rice with it. But that's another blog.

Meat and Potatoes.

[Ben sez]: Now that our Asian adventure is quickly fading into the past we're not really eating out for three meals a day (plus four snacks and two desserts), and being the currently unemployed college graduates we are, we don't make it out to eat multiple times a week to find something to write about. As an alternative we've decided to treat you to some of our favorite home cooking (as with the smoked pork two weeks ago).

This week is Ben et Nate's favorite meal: Steak and Mashed Sweet Potatoes (or Yams if that's your preferred nomenclature).

The first step in making this awesome meal is to find yourself a reputable source for good meat. I happen to luckily live mere blocks from a butcher called "Ready Meats", or as I like to call it, "The happiest place on Earth." I might have spent too much time and money there since they all know my name and recent events of my life, but the key is to find a butcher you can trust as a source for high quality products and maintain a healthy relationship with them.

Once you've acquired your steak(s) there are only a couple steps to perfection:
1) heat up a cast iron pan in a 500° oven
2) heavily salt and pepper both sides and rub with oil
3) cook 30-45 seconds on each side over high heat on your stove
4) finish with two minutes on each side in the oven
5) let it rest for five minutes.

This is the Alton Brown/Good Eats method which I use for every steak in the 1/2" to 1" thick range - sirloin, ribeye, strip. With those instructions you should be able to turn out steak house quality steaks for a fraction of the price.

Of course a "meat and potatoes" meal needs some kind of potato, once again I turned to Alton Brown (one of my food heroes) for inspiration. In the yam episode of Good Eats ("Potato, My Sweet") he prepares a wonderful sweet potato mash spiced up with some chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. It dawned on me after I'd thrown away my third can of half-used chipotles in adobo sauce that there had to be a better answer - Chili Garlic Sauce! Steam some cubed sweet potatoes, mash them, add salt, pepper, butter and some Chili Garlic Sauce and you're in business. Extremely delicious business.

I don't steal all my tricks from Alton Brown, I swear.. just most of them.

[Nate sez]: Of course there needs to be a solid beverage to accompany this perfect meal. Beer immediately comes to mind because of the quintessential American nature of the meat and potatoes paradigm. However, our ill-mannered, cigarette smoking, coffee swilling, art snobbing friends in France have a much better match for steak et yam: Bordeaux. It can be strong, smoky, and tannic, or silky, smooth and succulent. With meat and taters, you couldn't ask for a better match either way.

What the hell is Bordeaux anyways? Why do most all French wines have silly names like Sancerre, Pouilly-Fumé, Chateauneuf-du-Pape (which means New Countryhouse/Castle/Residence of the Pope)? A brief answer:

French wine is classified not by varietal (like Cabernet, Merlot, Syrah), but by region (Like Napa, CA or Williamette, OR). Each region has specific wines that thrive in that environment; Napa grows mostly Cabernet, Chardonnay, and Merlot, and Williamette grows mostly Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris. And even when we buy a Napa Cabernet, other wines (Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, etc) are blended in to balance out the flavor of the main variety - so in essence, almost all wines are blends.

Bordeaux is a region, like Napa. The main grapes grown are Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Semillon. When you pick up a bottle of Bordeaux at your vinomart, its color will give you the first level of insight into what the bottle contains - red is Cab or Merlot dominant, and white is Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc dominant. Most likely. With French wine, the varietal note is not necessarily as important as the overall quality of the wine. To put it lightly, it takes a retarded amount of "education" (read drinking) to remember which of subregions correspond to which dominant flavors (like St. Emillion is Merlot dominant, whereas Margaux is Cab dominant, but not as Cab dominant as Pauillac...).

The point here people: find yourself a wine merchant who you trust and gives you good, low price recommendations. I know I mentioned Solo Vino last week, but I'll mention it again. Ben and I learned gobs about wine from talking to the employees (who all have Sommelier licenses BTW), and they consistently sell us low price bottles that shock and amaze. We're talking $11-16 for bomb-ass Bordeaux k?

Bordeaux is beautiful, and though some of the most expensive bottles of wine in existence come from there, here are a few bottles that run the range of what is affordable, can be drank now, and can be cellared down for years to come:

Ch. (that means Chateau) Cluzan Bordeaux, 2003 - Smells like cherries, rasberries, and other misc. red fruit, and tastes the same. The fruit is balanced out by a nice smoky oak, medium body and overall acidity. This is a drinker for right now - it feels soft, and easy to drink by itself, but pairs beautifully with just about anything that can take red wine.

Ch. Haut Lucas Côtes de Castillon, 2003 - at $16, it's a freaking steal - and I rarely want to spend more than $12. This wine is soft but structured, med-light bodied, not too dry, black-fruity, and just simply impossible to argue with. It's also 90% Merlot and 10% Cabernet Franc. I know it sounds wussy (I'm not drinking fucking Merlot!), but Haut Lucas has a very mature and artful presence - this is not like crappy, overripe, 18% alcohol, hangover-inducing CA Merlot we've all burnt out on. It's definitely Merlot based, and there's nothing wrong with that. Did you hear me? - (french) MERLOT ROCKS MY WORLD!!!

Ch. Les Eyraux, 2005 - This Cabernet forward wine will need a few years to iron out it's bitterness and astringency (from tannins), but is fantastic with a fatty piece of meat right now. The aroma is definitively Cab - a bit vegetal and a bit dark fruit, countered with a great campfire smell coming up from your glass. Light bodied and neither sweet nor dry, the main flavor is of simple red fruit. It's not the kind of thing you would sit around and drink right now - it's too rough. Make sure you serve it with food - and buy a few extras to put in your cellar to drink in 2010.

Stop and Smell the Rosé

[Nate sez]: Maybe I'm just tickled pink. Perhaps it's just my feminine side showing through. Or maybe I'm really just a closet White Zin drinker (::shivers violently::). No, Rosé is much more than meets your mouth, or your expectations.

Last summer Ben and I were incredibly lucky to be in the company of people who wanted to tell the world about the wonders of pink wine. No, it's not sweet. And it isn't just a bucket of kool-aid strawberries in your face either. Rosés run a refreshing balance of fruitiness, minerality, acidity, texture. It also happens to be in the $7-12 range at your local vinomart. As far as wine is concerned, it's probably the most versatile style out there. Serve it well chilled with grilled anything, roasted veg, burgers, pastas, pizzas, and even a bunch of Asian food - Sushi, Thai Curry, Fried Rice, Dumples, and it'll probably even go with Jung's Chow Mein if you absolutely insist.

Since you're probably thinking "Well Nate, this Rosé thing sounds fascinating, and I'd like to know more about the fine differences between Old World and New World style sensory descriptors, and what labels can I find at my vinomart?"

I'm glad you asked.

le Original: The French School

The French are stereotypically synonymous with good wine, and Rosé is absolutely no exception. Almost every French Rosé I've had has delightful fruity flavors like rasberry, strawberry, and plum - however unlike our friends in White Zinville, these wines are balanced by being very dry, very crisp, and often posses a structuring minerality that frankly drives me wild. Minerality is kind of a "stony" flavor, like limestone or slate. Not that I've spent a lot time licking rocks, but minerality tastes like what you'd imagine rocks to taste like. They're also often high alcohol, and can be made from a very wide variety of grapes from Pinot Noir, Syrah, Grenache to Carignan, Cinsault, and Mourvedre. Or whatever the hell else is laying around your grape press.

Personally, I happen to love the Southern French varieties that come from the Rhone Valley, Provence, and Costieres de Nimes. They're cheap and they freaking rule. Here's a couple of noteworthy labels.

Routas Rosé 2006, Provence: At $11, it's a steal, and I can practically guarantee that you can find this wine no matter where you live. Crisp, dry, and medium bodied with a beautiful mix of reddish berry flavors. There is a "spice" note that I identify as Grapefruit, but I don't know what you're mouth tastes like so go out and taste for yourself.

Domaine de la Petite Cassagne Rosé 2006, Costières de Nimes: This is much harder to find, and ironically cheaper ($9 to 10). I've heard a ton of Rosé geeks go on and on about this particular wine, and even though I'd never heard of it when I tried it last year, it blew my mind. It's got this really attractive rocky-mineral flavor that is just as strong as the fruit. It's really crisp, dry, and light bodied. This is a real food wine - I personally like it with fatty fish like Salmon or Trout. Maybe with some kind of herb sauce. You should really try this wine.

Bottom line. if you see a French Rosé and it's a recent vintage (no more than two years old), and it's under $12, just go for it. It's probably pretty damn good.

La Escuela Nueva: Things get interesting

Since I'm doing my best not to write an epic tome on the pink stuff, I'll try to keep this under 750 words. Outside of France, people can and do make French Style Rosé. It's just not quite the same. Out here in the US, non-Zin pink wine is being made, but the difference lies in the complexity of flavor. You may have had other Rosés from Spain, the US, even Australia, and found that they are round, really fruity, sometimes off-dry, sometimes dry, but there is a startling lack of mineral in the flavor to balance out the heavy fruitiness. Some people totally dig the super-easy drinking, mess-you-up grapey-berry juice that sometimes gets passed off as fine wine. I just can't stand it.

HOWEVER, there is a man, and his name is Carl Sutton. He happened to make what I feel to be one of the greatest wines I've ever had. It's a Rosé, and you better believe it doesn't taste one bit French.

Sutton Cellars Rattlesnake Rosé 2005, Sonoma County: Our Friend Chuck at Solo Vino turned us on to this impossible wine. It's a Syrah, Carignane, and Merolt blend barrel fermented with wild yeast, aged 10 months on the lees (that means on the dead yeast) and put through a malolactic fermentation.

It's kind of a mouthful. It tastes like a toasted fresh white English muffin, slathered with European butter, and topped off with a not-so-sweet homemade raspberry jam. It smells like Buttah - quite literally. Look, he only released 243 cases and he kegged some of this crap to go on tap in god-knows-where, and if you can find it you won't regret it, and if not, than you'll need to make me an offer I can't refuse to part with some of my stash.

The Rattlesnake embodies everything I would like out of a new world Rosé: it's rich, fruity, buttery, juicy, off-dry, and deeply satisfying. A comparable stylistic analog would be akin to French vs California Chardonnay.

Today is a perfect summer day, so get to the vinomart and buy some freaking pink stuff, make sure it's cold before you open it, and pour a big mouthful of summer down your throat. Did I mention that this goes great with smoked pork?

I Like Smoked Butts and I Cannot Lie.

[Ben et Nate sez]: We like pork. There, we said it. And yes, Nate is a Jew.
But that doesn't mean that he isn't going to put Babe on a spit and roast him till he falls off the bone in a blaze of tender, juicy, porky glory.

So here's the deal: Ben figured out that smoked meat was one of the finest things on sliced bread, and he made this absolutely amazing pork shoulder last year. So when we'd had way too many helpings of sweet sticky rice, and were sick of eating all that perfect, delicious, I'll never-ever get sick of that Thai food, we talked about smoking the eating hell out of a massive piece of pork, and stuffing our faces with it.

So we did. And it was delicious.

Here's what's necessary to experience the quintessential American barbecue:

1. A massive Pork Butt (that's shoulder you perverts)
2. Seven Hours of your life
3. A grill, and some appropriate smoking hardwood.
4. The desire to eat till your sinuses fill up, and your BPFL (Blood Pork Fat Level) exceeds the legal limit of .1 or .08 percent (depends on your local lipid regulations).

This is yet another food (like Ramen Jiro) that elicits the famed heroin reaction. We believe this is caused by a full body pork contact - at the ramen shop, you have to wait for 45 minutes, then slip around a floor covered in grease, and then wipe up your greasy splash with a towel when you're finished. Similarly, you have to lovingly tend to this massive hunk of Babe for 7 freaking hours, and then let it rest for 15 minutes, and then take 30 minutes pulling the bloody thing apart with a couple of forks, and then dressing it, and getting it to the table - all without devouring the entire thing in the process.

It's harder than you think.

So grab a toasted bun, your favorite barbecue sauce, a couple of fresh brews, and splooge yourself sideways. If there's one thing you do this summer, smoke your meat.

Smoke n' Gras - Fatty McFatty Fatlicious

[Ben sez]: While wandering the streets of Portland trying to choose between the myriad of excellent restaurant choices it occurred to me that I really haven't been eating enough butter and fat. I also realized that my level of foie gras intake has been dangerously low as of late and I would be taking a major risk if I continued to live the life of brown rice, black beans, and other "healthy foods" which I have been recklessly engaged in since my return from the Orient. I needed a decadent meal, and fast!

Le Pigeon

For a taste of the fancy side of Portland I found "Le Pigeon" (American pronunciation of pigeon on that) where a culinary school drop-out is using fresh, local, seasonal ingredients to make amazing French-influenced food that is to die for (possibly from a pork fat or duck fat overdose). With a reservation, an empty stomach, and a goal of indulgence I sat down for dinner with Jenny, my guide to all things Portland food and wine.

Foie Gras PB&J

I had checked the menu online before arriving and couldn't decide on an appetizer. This was cured when the menu was placed on our table and I saw "Foie Gras PB&J" at the bottom of the list. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I was pretty sure we had to order it. What came out was two pieces of white bread filled with a foie gras paté, heavily buttered and tossed on a griddle. Lightly browned, this sandwich was placed a top a layer of strawberry-thyme jam and surrounded by crushed peanuts. The creamy pate definitely elevated this above the pb&j that mom used to make (no offense mom), and while the thyme-infusion of the jam was sadly imperceptible to me, I was deeply sad that this sandwich was gone so quickly.

Quail and Foie Gras Ravioli

For my entreé I ordered Quail with Foie Gras Ravioli. These two cute little birds came out stuffed with creamy spinach and currants atop a pair of ravioli filled with more foie gras paté. This dish featured a "deconstructed sauce," oil on the plate mixing with the fat from the foie gras and the cream portion of the spinach, combining their forces to create an excellent sauce for the lightly flavored quail meat.

Swine and Scallops

My partner in culinary crime ordered the "Swine and Scallops," pork jowl and scallops with pearl onions and asparagus in a smoked pork fat hollandaise. I'd never had jowl before, which I now think is a horrible oversight in my life to this point, it was like a cross between thick cut bacon and pork belly. The scallops were great, I'm normally not a huge fan of this particular item, but compared to the saltiness of the pork the scallops tasted sweet, lightening up this otherwise salty, smoky, porky dish. The real magic here however was the hollandaise sauce made with smoked pork fat - oh the glory! In every bite the smokiness and delicious pork fat flavor came through, it might sound excessive, and maybe it is, but a little excess never hurt anybody, right?

Profiteroles with Foie Gras Ice Cream

After having foie gras in the first two courses it seemed like it would be negligent of us to not order it for dessert when presented with the option. Glorious paté a choux puffs sliced open, filled with foie gras ice cream and drizzled with a rich caramel sauce. I don't know how to describe this besides rich, decadent, and delicious. Upon taking the first bite I think my friend temporarily transcended this plane of existence, living for a short while in a dimension of pure, foie gras-induced bliss.

[Nate sez]: Ben told me about this brilliant abomination over the phone. I kicked myself thrice for not having thought of it myself. Not that foie would have made it into a damned ice cream machine if it anywhere near my greedy hands...Speaking of which, I'm going to be late for my cardiology appointment.

Bacon and Apricot Cornbread with Homemade Maple Ice Cream

My dessert of choice combined two of my favorite flavors - bacon and maple. A thick piece of bacon, apricot cornbread topped with a big scoop of homemade maple ice cream with little chunks of bacon scattered around it, all in a pool of maple syrup and bacon fat. The sweet cornbread was balanced by the salty bacon, with an occasional burst of flavor from the chunks of apricot suspended within. It was so amazing that once we had consumed every morsel of cornbread and every drop of ice cream I couldn't keep from licking the plate. As I was dragging my tongue across the bacon-maple residue on the plate the chef stepped over to our table to thank me for my actions, apparently licking the plate is the biggest compliment there is. I don't know why he was thanking me though, I just showed up and ate the amazing food.

The Oregon Trail

[Ben sez]: I am currently wandering through the culinary wonderland of Portland, Oregon. I caulked the wagon and floated across the river to get here, I lost two oxen, and Holly died of cholera, but by god it's been worth it (sorry, I played a lot of "Oregon Trail" in grade school). The food here is definitely great, but thus far the true standout has been the Pinot Noir, and other wines, which I have had the chance to taste while touring wineries and getting a crash course from my friend.

Pork and Pinot

I lost count, but I think I've been to at least 8 different wineries in the week I've been here, and that was mostly in one afternoon. I've tasted more Pinot Noir's than in the rest of my wine drinking life prior to this week, and it's been a fantastic time. These wines run the gamut from luscious and fruity to deep, earthy, even tabacco-like in flavor, subtle, complex - truly amazing.

Thus far my favorites have been Ponzi Vineyard's 2005 Willamette Valley Pinot, the St. Innocent White Rose 2005 and the Stoller 2005 JV Pinot Noir. They are all obviously young wines, but each completely drinkable right now, and will probably only get better if I have the patience to not drink the bottles that I've bought as soon as I get home.

For those of you who glaze over when people start waxing intellectual about wine, the Portland area has more to offer than just phenomenal Pinot Noir. After my day of laying siege to tasting rooms in the area I stopped at the Dundee Bistro located in Dundee, Oregon (shocking, I know) right across the street from Argyle Winery (makers of great sparkling wines).

Every Wednesday the head chef has a special "Pork and Pinot" menu featuring three courses of pork-centric glory and an optional pairing of Pinot Noirs.

The first course was a hearty tube pasta (1" diameter tubes cut into 1/2" sections) in a hearty smoked pork shoulder red sauce topped with a piece of summer squash. You may not know this, but I have a real thing for smoked pork shoulder, it might be one of my favorite foods ever.. hell, the first time I cooked it I had a heroin-like reaction and ended up curled up in the fetal position outside shivering with need, jonesin' for a THIRD sandwich, but I digress.... The fresh pasta was thick enough to stand up to the smoky pork flavor. Honestly if fresh pasta and smoked pork shoulder sauce doesn't make you a little weak in the knees you might want to make sure you're alive.

Pork'n'pinot part two featured roasted pork tenderloin on top of a mix of roasted potatoes, local mushrooms, and applewood smoked bacon, all in a pork stock. A little lighter than the first course, the tenderloin was juicy and flavorful, but really I think the vegetables underneath almost overshadowed it. The mixture of meaty mushrooms, sweetness of caramelized potato, all tied together with the magical culinary glue that is bacon fat and tossed with green onions and parsley.

Round Three continued to buck the general trend of serving courses lightest to heaviest via a light salad served on top of thinly sliced artisinal salami topped with ripe avocado. A refreshing end to the meal with the pepper and spice of the salami blending well with the vinaigrette and the bright, voluptuous taste of the avocado.

[Nate sez]: Avocados really are voluptuous aren't they? So soft and round... and well, fatty, but "voluptuous" sounds a lot better I think..

Add three glasses of Pinot Noir to that meal and you've got a guaranteed good evening in just about anyone's book (assuming the owner of said book eats pork).

My food/wine chaperon for this adventure had the Duck Confit which was the best example of said dish that I have ever experienced. Deep smokey flavor, duck meat so tender it falls off the bone if you so much as look at it, and of course a liberal amount of juicy duck fat. Oh Daffy, you taste so good...

I have some more things to eat during my remaining time here (anyone heard of Voodoo Doughnuts?) so you can expect to hear from me again sometime soon. If I disappear forever it's likely that I'm hiding in the hills of Portland with a bottle of Pinot and/or a dozen doughnuts.

Ben et Nate: The Book?

[Nate sez]: 8 countries, 6 long plane rides, countless hours of attempted zen enlightenment on bus rides, and more noodles than is legal in an average lifetime. That's right everybody - the epic adventure across most of the eastern nations of the culinary mecca that is Asia is coming to an over-designed, self published coffee table book near you.

Ben and I sat around arguing many a Tuesday night about what to blog. We generally had a massive abundance of absolutely fantastic new flavors and dishes we wanted to talk about, but alas, a blog should not be too wordy or long. So we decided to write an entire book about it... and risk a crap load of our own money to do it too!! Imagine our blog, with much more detailed information and sensory analysis, more stories of being practically killed on sidewalks, more righteous rants about Thai mangoes, and 10 ways to get revenge on Tuk-Tuk drivers. We'll also include tons of appetite inspiring food porn photos and hunky, flattering portraits of Ben and myself.

It is tentatively scheduled to be released December 2007 - January 2008. I give it about a 90% confidence interval that we will succeed in publishing by this time, but I make no promises. We do however promise to keep you all religiously updated about the progress of the book, and to keep you entertained in the meantime.

This blog will continue to exist as long as Ben et Nate are eating, drinking, and being jackasses. Instead of focusing exclusively on the Asian cuisine paradigm, we will explore the incredible world around us, searching out the best noodles, the best wine, and expose the biggest food crimes being committed in the name of a profit motive.

One thing we both realized coming back to America is that there is no other place in the world (with the blinding exception of Tokyo) where such variety and ingenuity exists in the world of cuisine. The American school of cooking knows no boundaries, and we intend to share with you the secret hideouts of killer food/bev adventures. Ben will be tackling Portland, Oregon in the coming weeks while Nate researches the depths of the Chicago chef scene and tries to eat in New York without taking out a second mortgage. We'll reconvene in the great Twin Cities to rally up a thoroughly incomplete survey of the current state of US food culture.

Deliciousness is sure to follow.

The Best Bowl of Noodles in the World

[Nate sez]: This is it. The hands down, absolute, no contest, by far best bowl of noodles. It's ugly. It's mean. The service is third class at best. You have to wait in a long, ever-present line before being sent down greased stairs to wait a little bit longer. Did you buy your ticket? Because you can't order at the counter asshole. Get your damn water yourself, and if you want some soda, get it from the vending machine. Beer? you ask. Buy a ticket, give them the ticket, and wait your turn you ungrateful, foul beast.

I had been in Tokyo only three days when I stumbled across this mammoth noodle discovery. I was fumbling around, trying to find a Capoeira studio located somewhere in the vague vicinity around Takadanobaba station, asking every convenience store clerk or willing listener where this building is, and having absolutely no luck. If you think a map would help, you are sorely mistaken. This is Toyko. Ben has a degree in geography, and always knows where he is, and he's helpless in Tokyo. Tired and frustrated, I decide to give up for the day, and vow to search there again... maybe even tomorrow. Little did I know why I had really been there that day.

Wandering back to the train station I would find a bowl of noodles that would alter the course of Ben et Nate history. On the first floor of a nondescript white building, about 6 American blocks west of Takadanobaba JR station, on the south side of the road, you will see a line of hungry, eager Japanese males under a bright yellow sign that you can't read. If you don't see a line, the shop is not open. You should also quickly check your pocket, because the noodle-dar that you brought along is no doubt overloading, and will momentarily explode in the awesome presence of the quintessential Asian noodle dive.

Welcome to Ramen Jiro.

The single greasiest, filthiest, most crowded noodle shop I've ever been in, and nobody gives a shit that you couldn't wipe all the porkfat off the floor with the strongest caustic available on the market. This bowl of noodles is just that good. As I look around and take in the sights and the sounds (mostly raucous slurping), the overwhelming fragrance in the room is a deep hue of soul wrenching pork stock. This is not a pretty bowl of noodles; it will taunt you, it will tease you, and after 5 minutes of eating the crap out of this thing it will somehow breed more noodles, more bean sprouts, more cabbage, more melty, fatty, juicy chunks of days-cooked pork, more chopped garlic, more soup, more...ramen. I notice that every single bowl that goes back on the counter has been completely demolished, perhaps only a bit of soup remaining. It becomes very clear to me that absolutely no one can leave there without finishing the whole thing. I'm not sure if it's law or tradition, or if that voice coming from my soup taunting me, daring me, ordering me to eat it all was the cause, but I also demolished my bowl in its entirety.

The soul of the soup is the richest pork stock you've ever encountered. It's like drinking velvet - only the really, really porky kind. A savory "tare" or paste/sauce is added to give the soup its secret soy based overtones and character. Garlic infused rendered pork fat is dumped in before the noodles hit the bowl. The Noodles - holy shit! I don't know where the hell they found these but they are thick, round, chewy, eggy, salty, firm, curly, and soft all at the same time. The whole thing is topped off with blanched bean sprouts and cabbage, raw chopped garlic, and a pile of crushed chili powder. As if there isn't enough food, they shove a pile of illegal-tender pork in there too. If you ever make it here for some strange reason, when they ask you what you want in your bowl, just say everything.

Did I mention it costs 650 Yen? That's like $5.35. This is also most likely the single best deal on a meal available in the entire city of Tokyo.

The Aftermath

As I stumble out of there drunk on pork and high on MSG, it occurs to me that I've only been in Japan for three days and as the first bite of soup and noodles hit my taste buds, I had already found what I was searching for: the best bowl of noodles in the world. It is also of Ben's opinion that this is a fact.

[Ben sez]: Reery, it's true.

What is truly shocking is that it stood up to everything else we encountered. Before we hopped on our plane to come back to the US, it was mandatory as serious noodle experts that we make sure, be 100% certain that the Ramen Jiro noodles from Takadanobaba in Tokyo are the best we could find anywhere. After hundreds of bowls and plates throughout Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, and Singapore, there was nothing even remotely close to the downright soul this bowl possessed.

It was one of those often sought (and impossible to predict) perfect meals. The magical coalescence of time, space, and pork work in mysterious ways, but when it strikes, you are grabbed by the heart and led through an unforgettable journey of taste-bending glory.

Ben et Nate's Noodle Countdown - #2 & 3

[Nate sez]: Now, we've eaten a lot of noodles. I'm not saying that we definitively, absolutely, and without a doubt found the best noodles in the world. However, I can assure you all that at the very least, these are some of the finest bowls of noodles in current existence. Last week we spoke of Bangkok Pad Thai slingers and laid-back Lao noodle dives serving some really killer broth. I'm dying as I write this because right now I'd kill for a bowl of each of this week's noodles.

Dizzamn.

Noodle #3 - Pork Dry Noodle in Taipei, Taiwan -located on Heping Ave. Next to some Chinese medicinal herb shop. Taipei was deserted when we arrived - the streets devoid of pedestrians, the storefronts gated and boarded up, it was Chinese New Year and the city had shut down. As we prowled the streets for long hours, we noticed a few noodle shops kept their doors open.

After hours of stumbling deliriously down the deserted streets, a waft of gingery/porky/shrimpy wontons entices me towards a completely nondescript off-white hole in the wall. We approach the service area in the front and do some pointing at other people's dishes, soon the noodle lady is gesturing for us to sit down and wait. 5 painfully long minutes later, she brings us a small bowl of noodles with saucy ground pork, green onions, and crushed peanuts. As if a killer bowl of noods isn't enough, it comes with a bowl of pork soup with shrimp/pork & ginger wontons. There are scores of noodle & wonton joints in Taipei, but none could so well articulate the depth of pork flavor, or so perfectly complement meat with ginger, or salt and MSG soups and sauces so perfectly to induce the "Oh fuck, that's just wrong - where's seconds?" reaction as this place. We of course were back there again, and she's got follow through. We ordered seconds this time because we were leaving for Bangkok the next day, and I have no idea when I'll next be in Taipei, but I will return one day to eat these noodles again.

Noodle #2 - Blue Awning Pho in Saigon, Vietnam - Located on De Tham between Co Bac and Co Giang.

[Ben sez]: We already wrote a whole entry about the wonders of pho and the other phenomenal soup offerings in Vietnam, so it stands to reason that our dedication to pho would lead us to find a bowl worthy of our top five. Having a vibrant Vietnamese community in the Twin Cities we'd already had a few bowls of pho before we even got to Southeast Asia, a couple of them really really good, so we hoped that somewhere we'd find a better bowl, just so that we'd know our trip was worth it.

This bowl of soup edged out any bowl of soup we've had in Minnesota for the official Ben et Nate stamp of Best Bowl of Pho. An amazing feat no doubt, next time we're back in Saigon we'll be sure to take the proprietor her commemorative plaque.

This bowl was built on an artfully crafted beef stock, with subtle spices mixed in (chinese five spice? anise? lsd? clove? I'm not quite sure) to take it to that next level of deliciousness. Throw in some sliced beef and bean sprouts cooked in the broth plus the plethora of Choose-Your-Own-Soup-Adventure fixings on the table (fish sauce, chili oil, sugar, various local greens) and it's a damn fine bowl of noodles. This shop was only open for breakfast, but it was good enough that we actually woke up on more than one occasion to get there before they closed at 11:30am. That should speak more for the quality of soup than any words I can say: I was willing to get out of bed before noon for this bowl of soup.


Next week we'll be back with our final installment of Ben et Nate's Best Bowl of Brothy Noodley Goodness. Which country will reign soupreme in the battle of the bowls?

Ben et Nate's Noodle Countdown - #4 & 5

[Ben sez]: We ate Asia. Ok, not all of it, but we ate a lot of it, and somewhere in there we were hoping to find the best bowl of noodles. The jury is still out on whether or not we found the best bowl of noodles on Earth (or even in Asia) but we're going to count down the top five delightfully delicious bowls of noodles from our trip over the next few blogs.

Noodle #5 - Pork noodle soup on the banks of the Mekong River in Vientiane, Laos - We rolled into Vientiane after 24 hours on a bus (19 of which they had the air-conditioning turned off for) and settled into our hotel. On our second night in town we wandered past a restaurant advertising their Duck Noodle Soup. We tried this, then we went back for breakfast the next day and tried the Pork Noodle Soup. The woman here was slinging some deeply porky broth - a balance of pork flavor, soy, fish sauce, and hints of garlic and ginger. Throw in a condiment selection of limes, fish sauce, and chilies and you've got the makings for a deliciously meaty bowl of soup with your choice of fresh egg noodles or rice noodles. Somewhat of a middle ground between Chinese and Vietnamese soups.

Noodle #4 - Pad Thai outside BTS Station Saphan Kwai - We spent a lot of time in Thailand - somewhere around a month in total. Invariably we were going to eat a little bit of Pad Thai. We would have eaten a lot of Pad Thai but the portions in Thailand are so reasonable (that means "small" for all the Americans out there) that you don't end up eating massive quantities of anything.

We tried probably twenty different Pad Thai street stands in Thailand and only on our last night in Bangkok before going to Cambodia did we stumble across a great man standing at a griddle dishing out large (Thai) portions of awesome Pad Thai for 25 baht (about 75 cents). This man embodies everything right about the street vendor system, he makes one dish - with optional shrimp for 10 baht more - and makes it really well. All of the Thai restaurants in the United States that are slinging huge plates of bland noodles should take some notes from this man, pare down their menus and learn how to do it right. He has his pre-mixed sauce in leftover Aquafina bottles which he pours over the noodles, tofu, and bean sprouts to create this quintessentially Thai dish.

I'm sure you're tired of hearing it, but it's all about balance, in the US Pad Thai always seems overly sweet, served with a wedge of lemon to make it even brighter. In Thailand they focus on a healthy amount of shrimp or fish sauce and tamarind paste to balance out that sweetness with some salty, sour, tangy goodness.

I haven't quite figured out why so much of the Pad Thai in Thailand is pink colored, but I heard that pink is in style this year, so I'm not concerned.

[Nate sez]: I think they mix the blood of virgins into the sauce, but that's just a rumor as to why it's so delicious.

This has been a succinct wrap-up of the first two of our top fives bowls of noodles in Asia. Nate's too busy "taking care of business" to blog right now but I'm sure he'll have some epic treatises about the top 3 bowls of noodles in the coming weeks to make up for it. Join us next week for the second installation of our continuing noodle countdown - Same Ben et Nate time, same Ben et Nate channel.