Destination Peru #1: Plane Food Manifesto

Taking a cue from Amateur Gourmet's anti-dress code manifesto, I wanted to start off my Peruvian trip series with an attack on plane food. We all know what I'm talking about, the reheated mess that you wouldn't serve in prisons, yet are continued to be served to paying customers.

I've been met with surprise recently as I've been telling my friends that I spent last week in Peru. The most common response usually goes along the lines of "Peru? What are you doing in Peru?" My response is that traveling to Europe right now is prohibitively expensive and the Olympics would crowd out China and Asia. Plus I've never been to South America and I figured I'd make use of those four years of Spanish I took in high school (although living in LA, I'm exposed to Spanish enough). So for those of you who haven't been to Peru, it really is a wonderful country with culture bursting at the seams; and with that, culinary adventures aplenty.

Before I left, I did my research on what Peru had to offer gastronomically. The research pointed to the same things, Andean cuisine, coastal seafood, jungle fruits and a Creole culture of mixed heritage. There was a lot to look forward to; unfortunately, I had to get past the food on the plane.


Pasta with Cream Sauce

I'm slightly ashamed that I was hungry enough to eat most of this pasta, though none of the coleslaw. I did eat the prepackaged bread roll and cookie with gusto however. My issue with plane food is that it tries to be much more than it really is. Admittedly, I did not fly first class, where the food may be better, but I certainly didn't deserve to eat this. Perhaps in-flight meals are a holdover from when flying was a luxury and customers demanded a hot meal. But nowadays, people of all different social strata fly commercially, and being subjected to food like this just turns people off completely.

Unlike hospital food, which has the capacity to be good because of its grounded resources, planes lack proper kitchens or facilities. The so-called galley is only used to store and heat food, not prepare anything. Therefore, airlines need to realize that the resources of the plane are better used elsewhere. Simply put--food on planes should be cold.


Chicken with rice

We all know that reheated food loses much of its appeal. Perhaps this chicken was good in a previous life, but resurrected, it had no chance. The salad was also wilted and subjected to long contact with the dressing, resulting in soggy greens. Steps as simple as serving dressing separately would've vastly improved this meal. I understand that salad alone may not be enough of a meal to some people (me being one of them), but that same mentality can be applied to the main courses as well.

Now that airlines are losing so much money and cutting amenities, they're realizing that the terrible food they serve is just an unnecessary cost. Short domestic flights now sell food a la carte and since they're selling food, they maintain higher quality product. I had a turkey wrap flying from LA to NY on United and it was delicious. I don't understand why they can't apply the same technique to long-distance flights where they are more inclined to serve meals. Instead of giving me a reheated piece of dry meat, give me a sandwich with a side salad. There is enough cold foods that can be prepared cheaply and easily with much better results than a quick heating up in the galley. If anything, planes can boil water pretty efficiently. Flying EVA Airlines to Taiwan, they serve cup ramen as a snack. That's also a better use of plane resources, depending on the type of cup noodle served.

I am tired of being corned in my little airplane seat by a flight attendent handing me a tv dinner. Charge me if you must, but give me something palatable.

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Tofu Experiment 豆腐

Bad photo for equally bad tofu

I just returned from an amazing tour through the Andes by way of Peru, but before I regale you with my adventures with Peruvian cuisine, I have backlogged pictures from my experiment with tofu.

The day before my trip, Michelle asked if I wanted to try to make tofu. While I've never been a fan of bean curd, I thought it would be a worthwhile experience. The bland, jiggly block had been my culinary bane as a kid, and even as an adult I have yet to develop a real love for it. At the very least, I'd have something to share with all of my (1 or 2) readers.

Of course neither of us had any idea what to do, so we consulted the knowledge base of our generation--Google. Since the information is readily available, and my own experiment sort of failed, I will not post a recipe. There is a very informative and oddly calming video recipe here, but I will just take your broadly through the steps and my experiences with them.

Step 1: Purchase the necessary software and hardware

Borrowing some terminology from my favorite television personality Alton Brown, I will walk you through the difficulties of purchasing Japanese ingredients when you don't speak Japanese. Tofu is soy milk that has been curdled with the aid of a coagulant, generally magnesium chloride nigari in Japanese or calcium sulfate. We went to Mitsuwa, home of Santouka to purchase the dried soybeans (daizu) and nigari. There was no problem finding the soybeans, but the nigari created another challenge. In retrospect, I think we bought the wrong nigari, since the tofu turned out salty and didn't curdle without the addition of lemon juice.


Soybeans and nigari?

In addition, we needed cheesecloth to filter the soy milk. Believe it or not, I actually don't have cheesecloth. I know, what kind of chef am I. More unbelievable is how impossible it is to find anywhere that sells cheesecloth. Granted, I only looked in several drug stores, groceries, hardware stores and art supply stores. Perhaps it exists in an actual restaurant supply store. Finally, we settled on using nylon pantyhose as filters which actually worked extraordinarily well. All we needed was a fine mesh, and pantyhose fit the bill.

Step 2: Soak the Soybeans overnight



Exactly what it sounds like. I poured the soybeans into a plastic tub, picked out any rocks and covered it with cold water. I left it out on the counter top, but due to some scheduling issues, ended up soaking it for more than the recommended 6-10 hours. My soybeans were submerged for more than 24. I heard that oversoaking leeches out too much flavor from the beans, so we used some of the soaking water when blending the beans.

Step 3: Blend the soybeans



I used a blender because my food processor capacity is too small. The food processor would have blended the beans more evenly and I think I burned out my blender motor doing this, but the end result was a thick bean paste that we spooned out into a mixing bowl.

Step 4: Heat up the soy paste and strain



This was definitely the most painful and labor intensive step of the entire process. Pouring the mixture into my gigantic 10-quart stock pot, we heated it up to 165 degrees, the optimal temperature for making soy milk. Pouring the hot gloop into the nylon and squeezing the milk out of it scalded my hands. But the resulting milk was delicious. With a dash of sugar, the soy milk bested all the ones available commercially. The remaining solids (okara) can be used in other applications since it is nutritiously high in fiber, but I just tossed it out. It had no flavor after all, and one culinary experiment at a time was enough.

Step 5: Heat up the soy milk in a pot and add the coagulant



This is where we ran into our only major problem. The nigari salt did not coagulate the milk as expected. With a quick substitution of lemon juice, the curdles finally started appearing. But at this point, we had added excessive salt trying to coax the proteins of the milk to ball up. The result would be salty and lemon flavored tofu.

Step 6: Place the solids into a mold and apply weight



The mold can be as complicated as a perforated metal box or as simple as a milk carton. We opted to mutilate an old Tupperware container, allowing excess fluid to drain out the bottom. Folding over the nylons and placing a lid of aluminum foil, we weighed it down with a heavy bottle. The time it spends in the mold determines the firmness. We overshot the mark a little and came out with very meaty tofu.



The end result? Meaty, salty and lemony. Not usually the adjectives you hear describing tofu, and I would say that the product was somewhat of a failure. However, the soy milk by-product was satisfying and delicious. I also learned enough about the process to vastly improve next time. Would there be a next time? That's a more difficult question. It was a fun experience, but I think next time I might just stop at the soy milk and enjoy it without the curdling and molds.

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Meat Pie's Palace

Empanada's Palace
3811 Sawtelle Blvd
Mar Vista, 90066
$3.99 each

Not that appetizing when you translate it, but that's what empanadas are. What about Pasty's Palace? That has a nicer alliterative tone. Derived from the Spanish empanar, to wrap in bread, these little doughy patties make good snacks or combine to make a hearty meal. Empanada Palace serves a wide variety of Argentinian empanadas mostly to-go, but with some simple seating available. Each filling is distiniguished by specific dough folding, which astounded me, but seemed matter-of-fact to the waitress.



The look the same to me. One of them is the signature criolla empanada made of ground beef, raisins, green onions, boiled eggs and a variety of other spices. According to the menu, this is the classic empanada common in Argentina. Biting into the flaky crust, I could tell a lot of lard went into its construction. A good pie crust has a balance of lard and butter, and I can only assume that the empanada crust has plenty of fat. The beef was not the highest quality, but surrounded by the other spices, it I didn't notice its flaws. I wasn't keen on the pieces of egg, but they didn't take too much away from it overall. The other empanada is a spicy chicken that actually tasted blander and not too satisfying. Altogether, each one tasted like an ethnic cross between a hot pocket and a chicken pot pie, two things I coincidentally had in the freezer at work.

$7.98 is not too expensive for a lunch, but I feel like empanadas are supposed to be much cheaper. They are peasant food after all, nothing about it besides its location in West LA makes it worth that much. I would consider buying a dozen for the price of ten and bringing them to a potluck. Otherwise, I don't foresee myself here too often.

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Search for Sweetbreads

Restaurant 2117
(310) 477-1617
2117 Sawtelle Blvd
Los Angeles, 90025
$30 for three small plates

I had checked the menu before arriving and I promised myself that no matter what I decided to order, the sauteed sweetbreads would be my appetizer. My determination came from the fact that I've just never had sweetbreads before. Don't let the name fool you, as any foodie worth his salt knows, the sweetbreads are the thymus glands generally of beef. Now whereas that should be common knowledge, who knows what thymus gland actually does? According to Wikipedia, in humans it is located in the chest cavity behind the sternum and is instrumental in the formation of infection fighting T-cells. Sweetbreads, like giblets and kidneys are considered offal, organ meats that are not skeletal muscle. Apparently liver is an exception though. Now I've never liked liver as a kid, and my one experience with foie gras wasn't that gratifying; but sweetbreads were my new quest dish, something I just had to try.

Besides having the most difficult name to remember, this restaurant looks very non-discreet. I actually forgot to take a picture of the exterior because it was so plain. The restaurant is named simply after its address. Chef Hideyo Mitsuno makes predominately French dishes with Italian pastas, both accented with Japanese ingredients and flavors. Actually, the menu is very similar to Sawtelle Kitchen, although I'd argue that Sawtelle Kitchen leans more towards Italy while Restaurant 2117 has a Gallic slant.

Since I had just gone to Josie the night before and planned to go to a buffet the next night, I opted for three small plates to get a good sampling of the food. Come to think of it, I probably should've tried the pasta too, but the appetizer menu was too tempting.

Half duck leg confit, ravigote sauce


Following my somewhat disappointing duck confit at Comme Ca, I hoped to redeem my opinion of duck confit. Traditionally, a duck or goose leg is salted and herbed, then submerged in its own rendered fat for preservation. What part of that sentence doesn't sound finger-licking good? This duck confit pictured above had a much richer flavor than the one I've had before. The duck flavor was prominent, as it should be since it is such a delicious poultry. Underneath the meat was something like a relish which contrasted nicely with the salty leg meat.

Kobe beef short ribs, Thai style, spicy lemon fish sauce


What I liked about this dish was its startling simplicity. It really showcased the quality meat, and the sauce didn't distract too much from that. This dish was loaded with umami, and I had that satisfying lip-smacking feeling for an hour or two after the meal. I think if the fish sauce was lime accented instead of lemon, it might have benefited the beef more. At least it would've offered something sweeter to cut through the fat.

Sauteed sweetbread, port wine sauce


Here was the reason I came, those two cripy nuggets on a lake of port reduction. When I say nuggets, I mean McDonald's chicken McNuggets. These resembled them in form; I was actually quite surprised. I've seen raw sweetbreads, but never breaded and fried as they are commonly prepared. Taking a bite, I couldn't keep that thought of chicken nuggets out of my head, and rightly so. These flavors were the same ones I encountered in my Happy Meals as a kid, except much more intense. They were incredibly juicy and the texture was much creamier than that of the mechanically processed chicken. I would best decribe these sweetbreads as super nuggets, or what nuggets would taste like if you paid $10 a plate. I was not exactly disappointed, but I felt like there are many more things you can do sweetbreads.

Overall, Restaurant 2117 is actually a great place to go for some simple French food at an affordable price. The Kobe style meatloaf was delicious, although I still believe that's a waste of good beef. And if it was waste meat anyway, as common in ground beef, would you want to eat a loaf of it? Next time I come, I will try the pastas.

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Josie and the FD Cats

Josie Restaurant
(310) 581-9888
2424 Pico Boulevard
Santa Monica, CA 90405
$80 for my appetizer, entree and dessert

When writing reviews for restaurants, I always run into the question of objectivity. Not in the sense that I might be receiving gifts or special service because I am reporting on these restaurants, but in the sense that I always try to judge a place regardless of my present company. It is much too easy to dismiss a great restaurant when my companions are less than cordial or to trumpet a mediocre restaurant because of the good company. Luckily, in the case of Josie Restaurant in Santa Monica, I'm happy to report both the company and the food made the night.

We booked Monday night because of their relaxed corkage policy. With a twelve person party, we'd be giving them plenty of business anyway. The exterior is unassuming, actually difficult to spot from the street. Even with the combined intellects of my friend and I, plus our arsenal of iPhone, GPS and other smart devices, we still had to call to find the place. Inside, the lighting was low and the waiters genial, all the amenities you expect to find in fine dining establishments. We took full advantage of the Monday BYOB with a Bordeaux, California cabernet, white rioja, champagne and a rather alcoholic petite syrah. We would be making our own wine pairings. (For pairing suggestions, consult me for the FD Tip/Pairing chart)

Each of us received a slice of wild mushroom and gruyere quiche to start the night as an amuse bouche. This French term, translates into mouth amuser, is a a chef selected bonus. While the quiche may not be a true amuse bouche because it consisted of more than a few bites, it certainly amused my taste buds. The firm crust held in a rich mix of cream and cheese with the flavors of mushrooms peaking over the top. The little slice I had was the perfect amount, but it may have been too rich to start the meal. I was amused, but it could've been more playful.

My end of the table split four appetizers and two entrees, so I got a wide variety of tastes. We were all slightly disappointed that they didn't have the advertised Elk steak special that night, but that didn't deter us from getting a solid selection of dishes. I tried out my new iPhone camera, which could not get very good pictures in the low light. To compensate, I will of course describe to the best of my ability the layers of flavors I experienced. The white sea bass salad was an unlisted special for the night. I've always considered sea bass one of my favorite fish, and this simple salad highlighted its flavors. The tender white flesh of the fish was smoked to give it much more complexity and balance. Also, the fish matched well with the bitterness of the arugula salad. My crispy Berkshire pork belly with accompanying watermelon, cilantro and red onion salad was decadent. I've heard that pork belly is the new "it" dish and I'm not surprised. Good pork is so flavorful that it really puts American commercial hogs to shame. By itself, it was a little salty, but paired with the watermelon, the sweetness cuts right through the meat. I used to be skeptical about sweet and savory pairings, but not anymore.


California white sea bass salad

Berkshire pork belly with watermelon salad

The other two appetizers I tried were the sauteed frog legs with over a celery root puree and bacon-wrapped grilled quail. Now I've had frog before in Chinese cuisine, but never with a Gallic slant. They failed to impress me. The flavor of frog always seems to be the same, that bland protein flavor of white meat chicken. However, what the frog legs failed to be, the quail stepped up. Though the meat may be scarce on that little bird, what was present was rich and satisfying. Barding, the process of bacon-wrapping, makes a huge difference in delicate meat that tends to dry out.

Halfway into our dinner, Jono figured out a better way to take pictures. We combined the flash from his camera phone with my iPhone camera to get some much nicer photos of our entrees and desserts. Him and I shared the dry-aged farmed venison chop and the special cap steak. Now although we came hoping for the elk, which I've heard is the best kind of deer meat, I was not disappointed by the venison. The meat had the qualities of a good steak, rare and tender on the inside and seared on the outside. A poached pear paired with the chop to cut through the gaminess. Now when I heard Josie served wild game, I was expecting wild game. This venison was unfortunately farm-raised, thereby lacking much of the leaner flavor I expected from a truly wild animal. It definitely had a more complex flavor than beef, but it was not as unique as I had hoped. The cap steak on the other hand, elevated beef to another level. Granted, Josie is not a steakhouse, but I'd put money on that steak against some of the other chain steak places. Cap steak is taken from the same area as the rib-eye, which is my favorite cut of beef. It surrounds the "eye" next to the fatty tissue. The crust conveyed so much flavor deep into the meat that I would've been perfectly happy to sit there all night chewing on it. Luckily for me, the meat was tender enough that hardly any chewing was necessarily, and unluckily, it was soon gone.


Venison chops with wild rice

Cap steak

Discovering our cool new trick to photo dining, we eagerly took pictures of three of the desserts that arrived. My flourless chocolate hazelnut cake with a cookie crust and chocolate ganache filling was so dense that I could stick a heavy fork in it. Makes me wonder if the missing flour would have made it any lighter. But I was soon dwelling on the sinfully delicious cake instead. The pots de creme brulee, a collection of chocolate, orange and espresso creme brulees was a cute idea and tastefully presented. I only tried the orange one, and it was indeed robustly flavored. Finally the lemon sabayon cake resembled more of a strawberry short cake than a light custard as the name implies. The summer berries were refreshing.


Chocolate hazelnut cake

Three flavor creme brulee

Lemon sabayon cake

As our three hour meal came to an end, our group had scared everyone else out of the restaurant. The food may have been the draw, but the company was the focus. We had all worked hard to get our site up and running, and how else can foodies celebrate but by indulging in some quality cuisine. On our site, you can rate restaurants based on "food, service and vibe," but those three small words come way too late; I know now that a true rating is about the experience and that will always trump those three apart.

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Oh Yum, a Big Heaping Plate of Macrobiotics

Melrose Muffaletta with Scarlet Quinoa Salad

M Cafe de Chaya
(310) 838-4300
9343 Culver Blvd,
Culver City, CA 90232
$10 salads and sandwiches

Out of my element. That's the thought that came to mind when I stepped into M Cafe. The exterior seemed tame enough, patio seating and a chalk A-board displaying the daily specials. But once I saw the menu, I felt a little lost. Granted, I've been to Native Foods in Westwood and health food hasn't been completely left off my radar, but this was a far cry from my usual calorie and fat-laden meals. This was macrobiotic cuisine; it was supposed to be good for me and taste good too. For me that's almost always been a paradox. The truth is, fats and sugars carry flavor. That bold little triangle at the top of the old food pyramid was the source for all gastronomic indulgence. So admittedly, the seitan and whole grains were a little off-putting.

Macrobiotic, as sterile as it sounds, is described on the M Cafe website as "stressing the importance of whole, natural foods eaten in season, and as minimally processed as possible." The basis is "a theoretical foundation rooted in traditional Oriental medicine" with attention on balance and purity. I can believe this, no one ever has anything bad to say about natural diets. I was more concerned about how they're going to make all those nice-sounding words taste delicious.

I chose the Melrose Muffaletta, recalling my muffaleta experiences in New Orleans. I've been to Central Grocery, which claims to be the origin of the Sicilian loaf with olive spread, salami and provolone. Curiously, I ordered the macrobiotic version to see how good their fake meat could be. In retrospect, I probably should have just ordered something that doesn't pretend to be anything else, enjoy it for what it is, but I've never had seitan before and it was something I was curious to try. Seitan (pronounced Satan, as humorously pointed out by Scott Gold in The Shameless Carnivore) is processed wheat gluten. Wait, processed wheat gluten? Doesn't sound that macrobiotic to me, at least according to M Cafe's definition. And in fact, the fake salami tasted bland and had an eerie texture to it. The miso-cured tofu cheese was also a turn off. Not only did it look like cottage cheese run-off, but it tasted more like tofu than cheese. That wouldn't be a bad thing, if it wasn't posing as cheese. The order came with a side of quinoa salad. It was cooked with beets and had a shocking deep red. It actually tasted pretty good, but I couldn't get over the unease of not knowing what it was at the time I had it. The texture was similar to cous cous.

I think I approached this macrobiotic thing from the wrong angle. I shouldn't have ordered a food posing as something else. Rather, I should've embraced it for what it was. I liked the quinoa salad because I wasn't eating it while thinking of something else like I did with the seitan salami or the tofu cheese. I might come back in the future for the organic fries which looked delicious, but I doubt I'll frequent places like this until I cannot sustain my current diet anymore. I'll save the health food for when I'm dead...or close to it.

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Wakasan This Way

Wakasan
(310) 446-5241
1929 Westwood Blvd.,
West LA, 90025
Omakase only for $35 per person

I'm not entirely sure why the sign says Japanese charcoal cuisine. Out of the twelve courses, only one dish may have been grilled. Still, the podium outside announced that they only serve omakase prix-fixe style dinner with multiple izakaya dishes. The explosive popularity of izakayas may be following the small plates trend paved by Spanish tapas. I like to think that izakayas are no so popular simply because they serve good food in a manner conducive to shared company. Who doesn't like to have drinks with a good group of friends and share all types of delicious food?

As far as I know, izakayas are not generally served omakase. I think that having a set menu limits some of the fun of the izakaya experience. Choice and spontaneity make up a large part of the fun. It is nice though, to be served things I wouldn't usually order by myself. But given the choice, I wouldn't have ordered such an expensive meal either. Walking into Wakasan, I realized quickly that my friend Ed and I were the only non-Japanese patrons--usually a good sign. While I was pleasantly satisfied with the dishes I received, I was disappointed to see another table get an order of live shrimp that I never got. The waiter explained that it was an extra item that I'd have to pay more for, but I never saw any sort of menu to order from anyway. I wonder if not being Japanese had something to do with it. I've had omakase at sushi restaurants before and noticed that I receive better food when I'm with my Japanese girlfriend. While it makes sense that the chef will serve you based on your preferences, I don't like to be judged just because of race. I can eat with the best of them, but they may never give me a shot if I'm not Japanese. Perhaps next time in an omakase context, I will need to show them my familiarity with the cuisine and hope for the best.

Courses 1-3

These three dishes came out first. The bottom one on the right is some sort of seaweed salad which didn't appeal to me. It tastes bland and wet, not much more than that. I forgot what the center dish was, but the texture had a chewy consistency, probably some sort of pressed tofu product. The left bowl is pickled daikon and carrot and octopus salad. Vietnamese fans will probably recognize the pickles, an item I will explore in more detail in an upcoming blog entry. Of the three, I liked this one the most. The sweet and sour pickles paired well with the octopus. From my experience at Sasaya, I think that marinated octopus is truly delightful on top of a salad. Just a little rice vinegar, sugar and wasabi can go a long way.

Courses 4-5

The grilled salmon came with a wedge of lemon that I eagerly drizzled over the fish. Picking up a piece with my chopsticks, I expected an intense citrus flavor followed by the familiar taste of salmon, but instead the overwhelming flavor was sake. I'm not sure what they did with the fish, whether a marinade or a quick glaze, but it was delicious and different. The sashimi plate consisted of three small cuts of tuna, another white fish I couldn't identify, and squid wrapped in shiso. As taken from my Sawtelle Kitchen post, "Shiso is the herb perilla most commonly known by its Japanese name." The flavor is that of a less obtrusive mint. It actually paired nicely with the oil of the raw squid, and in these little pieces, the chewiness of the squid is not overwhelming.

Course 6

Ah the crab course. The delicately sweet meat of the snow crab is prepared simply as it should be. The flavor of the crab can speak for itself. While I definitely enjoyed this, the simplicity did not really impress me.

Course 7

The dumplings served in a light broth was my favorite item of the night. They come with two quail eggs which are always a joy to eat. Quail eggs have a much more elastic texture than chicken eggs and the flavors are more complex in my opinion, but it was the dumpling that captured my attention. Though they look like wet gyoza or Chinese dumplings, the dumpling skin was thin more like a wonton. The filling, presumably pork, was seasoned to perfection and generously filled the wrapper. The soup also was flavorful, but light.

Course 8

The chicken karaage, small pieces of deep fried dark meat, was also very well done. As a fan of fried chicken, I liked the juicy interior and the crisp exterior. Eaten with a dollop of what I assume is Japanese Kewpie mayonnaise and a squeeze of lemon, the chicken gave weight to an otherwise ethereal meal. Still, it was good to limit the chicken to three pieces. Any more, and it would have been too heavy.

Course 9

Although it looks like a richly opaque soup, this is actually an egg custard. The texture was that of silken tofu. While I didn't care much for the custard, when I reached the bottom, I found surprises of fish cake, shiitake mushrooms, ginko, shrimp and chicken. Those little prizes made me feel like a kid opening up a cereal box and finding the prize or an archaeologist finding little treasures.

Courses 10-11

The inari sushi came with a bowl of what I assume are shirataki noodles. The inari is a sweet tofu pouch of rice, my favorite as a kid. I still enjoy them as a snack. The noodles, from what I learned on Wikipedia are apparently very low in calories and carbohydrates. While I don't know anything about that, I know it was a light way to fill up the rest of the way. At this point, I was quite full, not so much because of the quantity of food, but because the spacing gave me time to feel it. Each dish came out probably between 5-10 minutes of each other.

Course 12

My last course of the night was a green ice cream that I didn't photograph because it didn't look especially different than all the other green tea ice creams I've come across before. However, after tasting it, I wish I had taken a photo. The flavor was more complex than green tea. There may have been a green tea base, but the flavor was fruitier than just tea.

After those twelve courses, I felt full and satisfied. I was glad for the diversity of dishes. There wasn't any dish I particularly hated, but I would feel sorry for the picky eater who can't enjoy the food here. When putting your trust in the chef, as omakase roughly means in Japanese, you have to be open to a wide variety. Knowing that I was getting an omakase meal, I knew it would be expensive; but now that I know Wakasan only serves omakase, I wouldn't be inclined to go back anytime soon. It is more of a special occasion restaurant.

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