My First Warm Rice Omakase: Echigo

Nozawa-style sushi has been on my list for some time in all its saucy, warm rice glory. Sushi Nozawa, the home of the original "Sushi Nazi" Chef Nozawa, has been spit out apprentice sushi chefs left and right. Sasabune here, Sushi Wasabi there. I decided to go to Echigo because it has a reputation being a cheaper, more low-end Nozawa sushi restaurant. I wanted to try the warm rice sushi first at an affordable restaurant before going all-out into Sushi Nazi territory.

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I felt uncomfortable taking pictures at the Echigo sushi bar. The interior and exterior, part of a strip mall, doesn't scream high-end sushi. Also, since I came to Echigo to celebrate, I wasn't in a photojournalism mood. I was however, in the mood for a glass of jun shimeharitsu junmai ginjo, my favorite junmai at Tokyo Table's sake night. It was clearly as aromatic and crisp as I remembered, no harshness going down, and only a pleasant rice taste lingered on my palate.

At Echigo, the sushi bar is reserved for omakase only patrons. I had braced myself for the sticker price beforehand, and I didn't think I could get a good enough experience outside of omakase. What did bother me was that the omakase was a set course of one sashimi, eight nigiri sushi, and a blue crab handroll. The price is determined based on what's available. So far, my omakase experiences have always been "keep on coming till my stomach or wallet bursts." In the end, I think we received more than the eight pieces of nigiri, but I was still a Double-Double hungry afterward (after the Jungle Food Marathon, I'll measure satiety in In-n-Out Double-Doubles).

The sashimi course was actually three plates, a baby abalone, abalone liver and soft squid stuffed with blue crab. I've never seen a pretty little abalone shell so small, and biting through the crunchy flesh, I felt slightly guilty that whoever farmed it didn't wait for it to reach maturity. Unlike veal, which I have no qualms about eating, there's a catch limit on abalone. I'd rather wait for it to grow fully before adding it to the annual quota. Thought I'd be compassionate for the abalone--nope, it's a shellfish. I'm just thinking in economic terms.

The abalone liver tasted clamy and warm, not a particular inviting combination. Plus the raw taste of iron, which is always a liver deal-breaker, turned me off. Soft squid filled with crab could've just been a plate of blue crab. As I will discuss later with the blue crab handrolls, the crab was the star and the squid merely the container.

Our first nigiri was some surprisingly lean toro. None of that melt-in-your mouth, make you pray to Tuna heaven, deliciousness. The engawa (halibut fin muscle) was served warm, strange since I don't think it added anything to the fish. In fact, I could hardly taste any fish under all that sauce. Such a shame considering my favorite sushi is engawa. The hotate (scallop) tasted strangely more like a fish than a scallop.

Now the fish got a little more interesting. This was my first experience with sayori (needle fish), but again I couldn't taste any of the fish itself because of the heavy use of warm dashi sauce. As far as I could tell, needle fish doesn't have a distinct flavor of its own. Next, I got a pinkish fish that I could only understand as aji no kanpachi. It tasted like kanpachi although I'm not sure what "aji no" means. The chef put a large dollop of yuzu kosho pepper on the fish, giving it a spicy, citrus finish.

This was my first ono (butterfish) served raw. The chef served it with a small dab of sweet miso in the center. Its flavor resembled the miso-cured butterfish I had at Asia de Cuba. I guess ono and miso are a popular pair, although I think the fish has a memorable flavor by itself that may not be supplemented with sauce. The aji (Spanish or horse mackerel) felt cold and lifeless. It had no elasticity biting through the fish. I enjoyed the kinmedai (Golden-eye Snapper) and the spicy skipjack, but both had no memorable attributes besides sweet and tart respectively.

After a service of mostly lackluster, though somewhat exotic, sushi, the night culminated in the famous blue crab handroll. I could sing praises to the temaki, which I fondly recalled for days after the dinner. As far as I could tell, it was simply outstanding crab meat, but it tasted so rich I wondered if there was a secret mayonnaise addition. Echigo even offers a lunch combination of eight pieces of sushi and a blue crab handroll for $13. That would be quite a steal. In total, my omakase experience came out to about $48 pp plus drinks.

None of the sushi was terrible, but besides the blue crab, nothing seemed to stand out either. One complaint I had was that I couldn't taste the fish in some of the nigiri. Either it was masked by sauce or the fish itself just wasn't that flavorful. When it comes to sushi, I guess I like to keep it simple. I had the warm rice, and while it didn't detract too much from the sushi, it didn't seem to add anything to the food. I would be willing to try one of the higher end Nozawa places, but for now, Echigo's fine by me.

Echigo
12217 Santa Monica Blvd, Ste 201
Brentwood, 90025
(310) 820-9787
Omakase ranges. Mine came out to $48 pp, but it can only go up from there.

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What Does It Mean to Be a Blogger?

Looking back through my backlog of entries written by my fellow bloggers, I found Kevin's review on his second trip to Bazaar. Except, this entry was not as much a review as it was an examination of what it means to be a blogger. From his interview with Chef José Andrés and the subsequent comment by Rameniac, I took away something issues I'd like to address on my own.

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The title of this entry is phrased as a question precisely because I am not sure what responsibilities a blogger has. The evolution of communication has created this sub-class of journalists open to anyone with an opinion and a clever (or not so clever, as in my case) blog name. I remember before the term "blog" was even coined; my friends and I traded URLs to our then "online journals." It's something we seem to take for granted these days, the empowerment we gain from such easy access to publication. I started many blogs in my lifetime, but always as journal for myself. As such, I sometimes forget that this blog isn't a diary; it's written for an audience.

So now that my readership has expanded beyond just myself and one or two loyal friends, I encounter the issues of responsible blogging. This is the area highlighted by Chef Andrés to Kevin, I found most thought-provoking. I do believe that bloggers should be held to a higher standard in their field of self-prescribed expertise. By broadcasting your opinion, you have assumed authority in your subject matter. There are even places like Article Writing Services that will provide you with alternative viewpoints on whatever your subject matter is. Of course there are many people who write with no authority, but at what point can you continue to write ignorantly, especially when you have gathered a sizable readership? Of course Kevin has grabbed this horn by the bulls; his research and thoughtfulness is easily apparent. Personally, I enjoy food research, so I try to be informed about what I write. I try to make my blog more than a collection of places I ate and what I found delicious. Food writing shouldn't simply be a documentation of food. A major benefit of blogging versus Yelping is the personalization of the eating experience. Exceptional food writing inspires me to eat or to find joy in eating, not just tell me how salty the fish is at so-and-so restaurant.

Another issue brought up in Rameniac's comment was the need to "blog with a conscience." The consequences of our writing actually has a real impact on restaurants. Something I may have lost sight of, in an effort to become more critical, is that restaurants are businesses. Reviews are an important metric related to financial success. Therefore, I will strive to be more considerate of the things I write. Although, nasty food will still warrant nasty comments.

As I mentioned before, actually having readers certainly shifts the focus of the blog. Now that I'm writing for others instead of just myself, I feel like I have a duty to present honest criticism of restaurants. It is the balance between the conscientious blogging concept and the duty to readers that will be increasingly difficult to uphold. Ultimately, I believe we should write honestly, but make that writing as accurate and informed as possible. And if that's not hard enough, make it fun and delicious to read as well.

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The Big Black Noodle House: Daikokuya

Ah, living in Los Angeles with an affinity towards Japanese food, it's inevitable that I would stumble upon Daikokuya. But why does this little noodle shop gather so many supporters? As Rameniac, astutely points out, it is always overrun by "Giant Robot subscriber" hipsters searching for the newest "it" place. Certainly now that Daikokuya has been overhyped, it's on it's way down like the left-over noodles circling the garbage disposal. Those who are still waiting for hours outside the borderline sketchy part of J-Town are probably just a little slow on the times. Or maybe they really do find something special in each greasy bowl.

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I ordered the kotteri style ramen, extra fatty like I thought I would enjoy. In retrospect, enjoy is a tough word to apply when I felt sick to my stomach after eating a bowl of so much fat. Maybe it was my mistake for choosing the fattier bowl, but the normal bowl didn't look much lighter. Although the menu says the broth is prepared overnight and flavored with special sauce blends, I didn't get that much depth in my spoonful. The noodles didn't stand out in any way, a big disappointment in a famed noodle house. I suppose Daikokuya's fanbase comes from the Berkshire kurobuta pork, but watching the cooks slop the cold chashu into a bowl made the entire thing several notches less appetizing. The runny soft-boil egg was the most enjoyable thing floating in there.

Way overrated ramen

Besides the ramen, the salads served with each meal had some appeal. Chopped cabbage topped in the creamy Japanese dressing, it's simple but satisfying. Both the unagi donburi eel rice and the tonkatsu pork cutlet were also decent. That's the thing: Daikokuya makes good food, just not that spectacular a ramen. Of course, I do admit I have an udon bias, but I would not wait in line to get this ramen. In fact, we had to wait twenty minutes to eat at the counter at 4:40 in the afternoon. I'd much rather go to the nearest Santouka and not feel as sick afterward.

Tonkatsu

Salad

Unagi Donburi

Daikokuya
327 E 1st St
Little Tokyo, 90012
(213) 626-1680
daikoku-ten.com
$8.50 a bowl of ramen

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The Rise of the McDouble

The New McDouble. Looks pretty familiar, but with one important difference

I love McDonald's. There, I said it. Shower all the hate and shame you want on me, but I don't think it's a paradox to be a foodie and like McDonald's. I've posted about it before on a lighter note, but now I have some grave news. I went into the restaurant today for my $3.25 lunch of double cheeseburger, McChicken and small fries, only to discover that the double cheeseburger is no longer on the Dollar Menu.

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I never understood how the double cheeseburger costs the same as a regular cheeseburger. No wonder it was the best selling item on the wildly successful Dollar Menu. According to the LA Times, it costs McDonald's $.06 for each slice of cheese. In an effort to cut costs, the double cheeseburger has been removed and replaced with a McDouble, the same thing minus one slice of cheese. I applaud McDonald's effort to maintain the Dollar Menu, which makes up 14% of their sales. It takes a lot to maintain that Dollar Menu when so many other places have opted for "value menus" instead. And I'll be honest, I ate the McDouble and didn't miss that extra slice of cheese. Would I pay $1.15 for the extra cheese? Nah, definitely something I could live (longer) without.

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Into the Darkness: Jungle Food Marathon

In the vein of Neil from Food Marathon and Joseph Conrad, nine hardy adventurers took to the concrete jungle of Los Angeles in search of victuals. One day, five stops, four meals, this isn't just a food marathon, it's the Jungle Food Marathon. Fitting with this blog's name, here are five jungle dining destinations along the coast of Los Angeles.

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At the Ford's Secret Pork dinner, Matt of Mattatouille let me in on the upcoming marathon he was planning. This would be my first, something I've been wanting to do for some time. Going with a large group to multiple restaurants in one day would be a great way to experience a multitude of cuisines. During the drive, there was quite a bit of driving, I found a real appreciation for Los Angeles' diversity of cuisines and cultures. As Neil pointed out, we were probably the first people in history to eat Nigerian, Peruvian, Cambodian and Vietnamese food in the same day. I picked up Fiona of Gourmet Pigs in the morning, met up with HC the LA OC Foodie, Javier the Teenage Glutster, Matt of Dig Lounge, Christine and my brother. We hopped in three cars and sped down the 405 for our first stop.


A minor detour took us to Nkechi African Cafe since Saaris was closed. Luckily, Nkechi also served Nigerian cuisine. Personally, I had to be sure that there were jungles in Nigeria before I could count this as a Jungle Marathon stop. Also, I'm sure it would offend someone to just categorize all African cuisine as jungle food. We strolled into the empty restaurant manned by one friendly waiter/cook/everything. We split a bottle of palm wine/juice between the nine of us, since none of us really wanted to drink too early in the day. Also, the beverage tasted somewhat nutty, sour and wheaty, not all that delicious. The first dish of the marathon was jollof rice topped with "mixed meat." It was a rice dish flavored with tomato paste, a few spices, and various fried meats. I may have had a piece of beef. Yes, I'm going to go with beef. The egusi soup was reminiscent of curry in color and slightly in texture. According to Wikipedia, egusi is made with ground melon seeds. On the side was a mound of sticky white yams with the consistency of glue. It made eating with my hands a mess. There were some odd flavors, but nothing too off-putting, unlike the last dish at Nkechi. Oh ogbono soup describable best by Conrad himself: "the horror!" I can easily say that ogbono soup, made from African mango nuts, was the worst thing I've ever put in my mouth, food or otherwise. The smell you get when you brake hard on the freeway, imagine eating those tires cooked with fish topped with a nauseating bleu cheese scent. I gave it a shot, I even tried it a second time. I tried it with and without the eba cassava paste still no luck. For our group of adventurous eaters, this dish will forever be off-limits.

Emu Palm Wine

Jollof Rice with Fried Plantains

Fish Ogbono Soup with Eba



We unanimously agreed that Nigerian food first was a wise choice. If that had been our last stop, we would've been in for a tough time. But since most of the food wasn't particularly palatable, we had plenty of room for the next place--El Rocoto in Gardena. Seeing as how I just returned from Peru a few months ago, refer to my Destination Peru series on the bottom left, I wasn't thrilled to include Peru in the marathon. But I knew firsthand that Peruvian cuisine was delicious, so I didn't mind making this stop at all. The ceviche mixto, while not as magnificent as the one I had in Lima, still had all the right components. The tart lime juice balanced out the brine of the whitefish, shrimp and squid. Raw red onions cut through the other flavors. The seco de cordero, lamb cilantro stew, had all the deep, hearty flavors of a mature animal. I love the flavor of lamb, and especially in a stew like this, the natural gaminess of the meat must come through. I'm always disappointed when the lamb tastes indistinguishable from beef, no matter how tender. I noticed that lamb and cilantro is also a common combination in Chinese cooking; I wonder if there was some Chinese influence for this dish or if those ingredients just naturally go so well together. I'm not a fan of tripe, so I didn't like the cau cau tripe casserole, though I know it is a common Peruvian dish. Our pollo enrollado and saltado de mariscos had similar flavors due to the liberal use of oyster sauce. Peru's got its share of decent Chinese food and these two were no exception. A special mention goes out to the aji rojo and aji verde made with jalepeños and the green sauce with mayonnaise. Both were amazing on top of bread, on top of everything really.

Ceviche Mixto

Seco de Cordero and Cau Cau

Pollo Enrollado



Rolling off Peruvian, we headed to Long Beach where apparently a sizable Cambodian population lives. Our destination was Siem Reap, a self-proclaimed "world famous" restaurant. I don't know if it's just a coincidence, but the old Cambodian restaurant in my hometown also had a dance floor and karaoke like this place. It seems as if many Cambodian restaurants double as banquet halls for your Cambodian wedding or drunken Dhoom Dhoom sing-along. The fish salad with bitter sadao leaves tasted exactly as named, fishy and bitter. The leaves were crumbled and impossible to remove, so I assume they are critical for the salad's integrity. Our lok lak came in beef, not the deer we had hoped to try. Although it was served with lemon juice, salt and pepper, the beef cubes had enough flavor themselves without the sauce. The hot and sour fish soup had familiar Chinese and Filipino flavors. It tasted like a cross between some of the Chinese vegetable soups I've had at home and Filipino sinigang. The French style tender beef and anchovy salad displayed some French influences, similar to Vietnamese cuisine and had Cambodian olives. The fish paste wasn't thick enough; it smelled like feet, and didn't taste much better. I liked the ground pork curry the most. Though it appeared thin, it had an amazing amount of depth in flavor similar to Thai curries. As a group, we had a minor mix-up with a durian and jackfruit shake the included a moment when everyone thought they overcame durian's rancidity and became spiky, smelly, fruit lovers.

Fish salad with bitter sadao leaves

Ground Pork Curry

Fish Paste



By now, the sun was setting over our last meal stop, Quan Hop, an upscale Vietnamese restaurant in Little Saigon. Usually, my Vietnamese food is pho and banh mi, nothing more than $6-7. Quan Hop is a different experience--clean, comfortable and relatively expensive. In a market like Westminster and Garden Grove, they occupy a sweet niche of "high-end" dining. Matt and Christine had been here before, so they offered their recommendations, including the banh beo rice cakes and banh it ram potstickers. Though the banh it ram was listed as potstickers on the menu, they were much odder, consisting of a fried ball and topped with rice paste. They were delicious none the less. The banh beo reminded me of Chinese rice noodles served at dim sum with slightly sweet soy sauce. Encouraged by the jackfruit shake at Siem Reap, we ordered a jackfruit salad. This was my first experience with banh hoi thit nuong, thinly sliced sheets of vermicelli noodles with grilled pork. The flavors were familiar Vietnamese, but I've never seen this presentation. We finished with goi cuon nem lui shrimp paste spring rolls.

Banh beo

Banh it ram

Jackfruit Salad

Shrimp Paste Spring Rolls


Filled with food, we needed something refreshing and sweet. It wasn't the quantity of food that bothered me; we had just been eating for six hours. When your stomach's been digesting for so long, your entire body get exhausted. We drove a few blocks down to Nuoc Mia Vien Tay market for freshly squeezed sugarcane juice with kumquats. It tasted too sweet for me, but had a pleasant tangerine flavor.

Driving back from such a long day of eating, I was more spiritually satisfied than bodily. Some of the food had been above par, but many others weren't too appetizing. That didn't deter me though, the adventure had been well worth it. I came back out of the jungle a little more worldly, and a lot more full.

Nkechi African Cafe
2717 W Manchester Blvd
Inglewood, 90305
(323) 541-1265
$7 per person

El Rocoto
1356 W Artesia Blvd
Gardena, 90248
(310) 768-8768
$8 per person

Siem Reap
1810 E Anaheim St
Long Beach, 90813
(562) 591-7414
$11 per person plus $4 drink

Quan Hop
15640 Brookhurst St
Westminster, CA 92683
(714) 689-0555
$7 per person

Nuoc Mia Vien Tay
14370 Brookhurst St
Garden Grove, CA 92842
(714) 531-9801
$2.75 small drink

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Who Needs Stars in LA? Not Joe's in Venice

I've been tracking Joe's in Venice for some time now, but it took a $35 prix fixe dinner from Open Table's Appetite Stimulus program to bring me in the door. Part of the intrigue came just because of Joe's long-standing popularity in an industry that feeds on fads. The restaurant celebrated its seventeenth anniversary this year. There was renewed interest when it received a Michelin star last year, but lost it in the 2009 ratings. I wanted to see first-hand what it takes for a place to lose a star. What I realized was that Joe's never deserved a Michelin star in the first place.

Here's why...
When I say that Joe's does not deserve a star, I don't mean that it does not deserve high marks and recognition. I mean it in the sense that Joe's seem to fit in with the Michelin list. What I noticed most about the place, noting the blood red decor, exposed wood ceilings, colorful paintings and friendly staff, was this certainly wasn't a fine dining restaurant. Rightly or wrongly, Michelin has always been about high-end dining; therefore, most of Los Angeles' casual dining scene is left out every year. I'd say that Joe's captures LA but not Michelin, which is perfectly acceptable and even preferable in this Socal dining environment.

I usually hate to simply list the menu, but since this was a special case, I'll explain what Joe's had to offer for $35.

First Course
Mixed green salad with pumpkin souffle, roncal cheese, pomegranates, roasted shallots, pumpkin seed brittle and apple cider vinaigrette

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Tuna tartare on smoked salmon with sliced cucumbers diced tomatoes and lemon oil

Both appetizers were expertly prepared, though the tartare lacked elegance in presentation. A mound of chopped tuna could have looked more appetizing. I enjoyed the lemon oil, which added the fruity flavors with barely a hint of tartness of the citrus. Smoked salmon played a compliment to the freshness of the tuna, giving me both flavors prepared and straight from the sea. The salad showcased many seasonal flavors of pumpkin and apple cider. It definitely tasted November, assuming Los Angeles had seasons.

First and a half Course
Honey-scented rabbit tenderloin with confit filled tortellini, shisito, chevre, pomegranate, brown butter apple vinaigrette

This course wasn't included in the prix fixe menu, but it was a component of the regular $75 tasting menu that sounded too good to pass up. Luckily, I didn't stick with just the Open Table menu; the tenderloin was my favorite dish of the night. The confit tortellini made me imagine potstickers; something about it, whether the texture or the taste felt oriental. The tenderloin itself didn't stand out, but the sauce made up for it nicely. Brown butter apple vinaigrette reduction certainly tasted as good as it sounds. Little bits of apple brought sweetness while the sharp vinegar cut through the luscious melted butter.

Second Course
Cavendish Farms roasted quail with wilted mustard greens, carmelized parsnip, wild rice, quince verjus, beet chips

or
Scottish salmon with spinach, maitake mushrooms, potato linguini, onion soubise, basil pistou

After that night, I don't think I will ever order quail at a nice restaurant ever again. There's just too little meat, however succulent, on those tiny bones. There doesn't seem to be a way to eat quail effectively and politely. Though the quail itself was not spectacular, the parsnip sauce and quince verjus made the poultry much more interesting. Quince is a sour fruit and the verjus is the sour juice squeezed from said fruit. I was underwhelmed by the salmon; I have yet to have a mind-blowing salmon at any restaurant that wasn't raw and wild. Soubise is a bechamel-based sauce. From what I understand, pistou is pesto without pinenuts.

Third Course
Autumn crumble of persimmons, quince and apple with almond topping, orange sherbet and candied ginger
or
Flourless chocolate cake with walnut ice cream
At this point my camera died after CUT and Ford's. But the desserts weren't pretty enough anyway. I've been seeing flourless cakes more and more recently; I wonder if it's another dessert trend. Since I'm not a baker, it boggles my mind making a cake without flour or any leavener. From my research, it seems that these ultra dense tortes are made purely out of eggs and butter. I guess the gluten-free diet doesn't coincide well with the low-fat, healthy diet.

Joe's is a nice restaurant, just not a fine one. But really, in Los Angeles, the best food isn't served on starched white tablecloths. Although I did see the buser at Joe's ironing the tablecloth before setting a new table. I also noticed that they still have their Michelin star placard above the bar. I'd say to Chef Joe Miller, banish Michelin, you don't need it! You may have lost your star, but LA has too many anyway.

Joe's
1023 Abbot Kinney Blvd
Venice, 90291
(310) 399-5811
joesrestaurant.com
$35 for this menu, but usually $10-20 appetizer; $20-40 entree

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Secret Pork: Ford's Filling Station's Special Pork Dinner

What do pig eyes taste like? It's more texture than taste. Last week FoodDigger graciously hosted a special menu dinner at Ford's Filling Station. These FD invites have gotten so competitive; I was certainly lucky to get a spot at Chef Ben Ford's Culver City restaurant.

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I won't write an encyclopedic entry on every minute item I had at Ford's. For that, you're better off reading Kevin's entry. I could tell you about the unbelievably supple pork confit or the mouthwatering porchetta roasted pig with fennel. I could even tell you how panchetta wrapped pork loin is an amazing idea. Wrap pork with more pork; how can that fail? But the best memories of the night weren't the things on the table, they were the people seated around it. Fiona, HC, Kevin, Ila, Matt, Javier, Matt, Sarah and of course Will, Thi and Marshal truly made the night.

The dinner started with a flourish as Ben Ford came out to introduce himself and the menu to our table of hungry bloggers. We gave him the paparazzi treatment of course with questions and camera flashes going off in all directions. Of course, he could always take celebrities cues from his father Harrison Ford. He explained that the pork dinner is special for him--much fun to do and eager to present. The menu is by special request only with advance notice. After all, he needs to buy the two fifteen-pound baby pigs and brine overnight. Nightly, he makes his own headcheese, but rarely does he get the opportunity to work with the whole animal.

We had a few side dishes to start: brussel sprouts, cavalo nero & escarole, roasted carrots with pomegranate, and kabocha risotto. The risotto was a letdown, undercooked and underflavored. It's a pity since the kabocha, or Japanese pumpkin, has such a great flavor. In answer to the universal childhood fear of brussel sprouts, Ford says cook with bacon.



The stars of the night came dressed in their finest--on a silver platter served by Chef Ford himself. The fancy platter consisted of the porchetta, whole roasted pig with fennel and onions, pig's tongue and ear salad, deep fried pork eyes stuffed with ham hock, and panchetta wrapped loin chops, pulled pork and pork rinds. I was personally most impressed with the salad, since beef tongue is so common now, pork was a different treat. Fried eyes tasted how I imagined Rocky Mountain Oysters would be like. Breading and frying any gelatinous organ can cover up the taste of eyes as well as testicles. The texture was the only thing that set it apart. Eyes have a gummy resistance, best reserved for non-organ foodstuffs. Amazingly, none of these pork products relied on heavy sauces. The meat was tender and juicy enough to stand with relatively simple seasonings. The pulled pork was no exception; the only good pulled pork I've had was doused in sauce or in the form of carnitas.

Pork rinds, pork loin, and confit flanked by carrots and risotto

Porchetta, whole roasted pig with fennel and onions

The second platter of pork had the confit cooked in goose fat, crispy smoke pork legs, and a rather unhappy looking pig head. As a rule of thumb, when eating the heads of animals, empty eye sockets make the creature much more menacing. The confit was certainly as notable as its reputation would suggest. After being featured on Bizarre Foods, this was a dish I couldn't overlook. It almost had the flavor of a roasted turkey leg, smokey and deep. The night finished with a moist Hawaiian bread pudding and a disappointingly dry chocolate torte. Dessert wasn't the key to the dinner. Maybe if it featured bacon more prominently...

By the time we finished our late meal, the restaurant was all but empty. We gathered up and headed across the street for a round of drinks courtesy of Tastespotting. Food may have brought us all together, but it certainly wasn't the only thing keeping us there. It's not enough to love food; you still have to be a genuinely good person to be a part of the community. For all you quiet bloggers out there, all I can say is reach out join the fun.

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