Udon, Porc and Shittake Mushroom Soup

I've been pretty busy lately.... and sadly just realized that I forgot to celebrate my 100 posts mark. I guess it's never to late to start the festivities, so happy 100th posts chocolate shavings!

"Chocolate Shavings...." my dad said on the phone the other day. "How did you come up with that name anyway? Is it a reference to the many, many baking experiences you had in our family kitchen growing up?" I paused. True, I started baking when I was pretty young. Making various baked goods was one of my great hobbies, and I learned early on that I didn't really like to follow recipes. I would come up with my own crazy concoctions and make the whole family eat it. Sometimes they were good... sometimes not so much. "You're right dad.. but I really enjoy cooking savory foods too. The name chocolate shavings is my way of mentioning all the little cooking tricks that turn a meal from a simple cooked dish to something special....like chocolate shavings added to a white chocolate mousse, or lemon zest sprinkled over a simple fennel salad...or a drizzle of truffle oil added to everyday mashed potatoes." My dad paused. "I see, well maybe you should come home more often. Teach me how to move away from the microwave and start using a real pan". My dad has a growing kitchen love affair with microwaves. It's the only kitchen utensil he uses to perfection, and the one that saves him when my mom's not there to save the day. "Well, whatever it is, your site always makes me hungry". That was the best compliment of my day, and comforts me in the fact that I couldn't have chosen a better carreer to dedicate my time to.

This soup is one of my latest concoctions. The meatballs are made with basic asian-inspired flavors (sesame oil, scallions, chinese chives, soy sauce)and are cooked in a simple chicken stock based broth flavored with shittake mushrooms. The mushrooms darken the broth and give it a lovely rich color. I served it with udon noodles, but the soup would be delicious without them as well.

Udon, Porc and Shittake Mushroom Soup (serves 4)
For the meatballs
1/2 lb of ground pork
2 leaves of napa cabbage, finely diced
4 shittake mushrooms, finely diced
1 green onion, finely diced
3 chinese chives, finely diced
2 teaspoons of finely diced ginger
1.5 tablespoons of soy sauce
1 tablespoon of sesame oil
1 tablespoon of corn starch

For the broth
2 cups of low-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup of water
a pinch of powdered dashi stock (optional)
a good handful of udon noodles, cooked
4 shittake mushrooms, sliced
1 green onion, sliced
a handful of chopped coriander, to serve

In a bowl, combine all the ingredients to make the meatballs. Make sure that all the ingredients are very finely diced. Form into bite size meatballs and reserve.

In a stockpot, add the chicken stock and water and bring to a boil. Lower to a simmer. Add the dashi. Carefully add the meatballs. Cook for 5 minutes and add the mushrooms and green onion. cook for another 4-5 minutes or until the meatballs are just cooked through. Add the warm cooked noodles to your serving bowls, and top with the meatballs and broth. Serve with chopped coriander. Enjoy!

Cafe East - A Vietnamese Feast

There has been much talk between Helen and I about Vietnamese food. I've seen many posts about the Vietnamese restaurants on Kingsland Road, and neither of us had visited a single one of them. I crave the freshness of summer rolls, the comforting Pho noodle soups. I've visited Pho, a chain of Vietnamese restauarants before, and I found that while convenient, they lacked a certain punch and were rather insipid.

While chatting about it on Twitter, Cafe East was recommended. Even better; it's situated close to home, in Surrey Quays. A simple journey (although not so simple for some!) brought us right on it's doorstep.

Upon arrival, it looked closed. The blue neon sign shone brightly, but the doors were locked. We paced around it maddeningly, until we discovered a large entrance and a patio round the back.

We were greeted warmly to a large and simple dining area, packed with Oriental diners. A good sign. Laminate menus with photos consisted of two pages. I knew what we had to have; summer rolls. We also chose banh cuon, which was like the Chinese dim sum dish, cheung fun - rice noodle pastry except stuffed with minced meat, topped with shallots and bean sprouts, served with nuoc cham, a fish sauce, garlic, chilli and lime juice sauce. This was my favourite dish. The rice noodle pastry was light and warm, topped with slices of mystery-meat ham and those lovely fried shallots. It was light yet comforting with just the right balance of spicy tang from the nuoc cham.

Summer rolls were tightly packed full of goodies. Shredded lettuce and vermicelli noodles provided a great crunch, with a few mint leaves strewn in there for freshness. The prawns were sweet and juicy, and the accompanying spicy peanut dipping sauce providing a messy yet welcome dip.

Of course, you can't go to a Vietnamese restaurant without trying out some sort of noodle soup. I was immediately drawn to the Bun Bo Hue, the noodle soup with prawns, chicken and beef. We were asked if we wanted the beef rare or well done (rare, of course) and spicy or not. We went for full-on spice.

This came with a plate of chopped chillis, halved lemons, beansprouts and herbs which we added as we saw fit (i.e. we chucked it all in). You can't tell from the picture, but te beef was indeed perfectly rare. We slurped this down greedily, enthusiastically enough to splatter our clothing with it. It was a generous portion.

All this was washed down with an eye-wateringly strong Vietnamese iced coffee which will keep me up till the early hours. Service was sweet and efficient, and even after we finished I couldn't help gazing at other peoples' dishes. I can't wait to return, and given that I live 15 mins away by bus, it shan't be long before I do. £30 for 2 starters, 2 mains and 2 drinks. Can't argue with that, can we?

Cafe East

100 Redriff Road

London, SE16 7LH

Tel: 020 8691 7777

Sushi Say

Fresh off the back of my trip to Sushi Hiro, I visited Sushi Say in Willesden Green with a friend last weekend. I had read a few good reviews about this place, and given that although Sushi Hiro was a trek, it was one that I'm glad I made.

Being a bank holiday weekend, there were some travel difficulties. The whole of the Jubilee line being under maintenance, for example. Because of this, I had to get a train, then a tube, then another train and then a bus in order to get to Willesden Green. It took me almost 1.5 hours. I hoped it was worth it.

Upon arrival, the restaurant was nearly empty. There was a young family sat by the sushi counter, and two other tables were occupied. I sat down opposite my companion, who had a face resembling thunder. Apparently when he asked if we could sit at the sushi counter, the waitress told him that it was not for lunchtimes. And yet there was this family sitting there, happily munching away. If I'm honest, it put a little damner on my excited spirits.

The menu is vast. We opted for tempura soft shell crab, which was delicious. Not a hint of grease, light and fresh. We also ordered the top picture, a raw squid dish. My companion wasn't too sure of the texture but I loved it - slimy, slightly crunchy with a little heat from grated ginger and the umami of the nori seaweed. An excellent start. Some vegetables lightly poached in dashi stock cleansed the palate and were refreshing.

I also ordered an uni nigiri, only because I've never tried sea urchin before. This was perfectly tasty with that iodine tang that they're famous for, although I can't help thinking it would be more delicious scooping the orange roe straight from the shell in the sunny south of France with a glass of chilled rosé.




We both opted for the 'Maze Chirashi' set. This consisted of the 'Chef's Special Clear Soup' which was surprisingly flavoursome given it was completely clear. This accompanied a deep bowl of rice with raw fish which came already soy sauced. I was quite surprised when this turned up, as I had envisaged large pieces of sashimi adorning the rice, rather than the slivers and chunks. The use of diced fake crabsticks also confused me a bit; I'm not adverse to them, but they don't really scream high quality to me. I was impressed by the amount of tobiko, though. This was a filling dish. I finished all of mine like a good girl, but my companion struggled to do so.

To finish, we ordered a scoop of wasabi ice cream and a scoop of red bean ice cream. The wasabi ice cream was delightfully pungent, although after two or three mouthfuls I'd had enough. I did muse whether a lime and wasabi sorbet would be more appropriate.

All in all, a nice little place. The waiting staff telling us we couldn't sit at the counter whilst others could left a bit of a sour taste in our mouths, especially since they weren't busy. The food was lovely (£30 a head with a beer), but we left a little despondent.

Sushi Say

33B Walm Lane

Willesden, NW2 5SH

Tel: 020 8459 2971

Strawberry Shortcake

I've been meaning to make a strawberry shortcake for a while now, and finally got around to it this weekend. It was the perfect dessert to bring for a post BBQ meal - it tastes light (it's not really, but the airy whipped cream makes it feel like it is!) and it's pretty quick to make. I omitted the gelatin though - firstly because I didn't have any, but also because a couple of our friends don't eat meat. Made with animal product (think collagen derived from animals' skin and bones) it's really not the nicest thing to slip into a cake when some of your friends are vegetarian. The cake turned out fine without it, and I don't think the gelatin would have added that much more to the texture of the cream.

This is one of those great dessert for big gatherings. It presents very nicely, boosts great summer colors and, most importantly, is delicious.

Strawberry Shortcake (Serves 12), adapted from Martha Stewart
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter at room temperature, plus more for pan
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled), plus more for pan
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs plus 2 large egg yolks
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup whole milk
1 pound strawberries, hulled and thinly sliced
1 1/2 cups heavy cream

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter bottom of an 8-inch round cake pan, and line with parchment paper. Butter and flour paper and sides. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt; set aside.
Using an electric mixer on high speed, beat butter and 1/2 cup sugar in a large bowl until light and fluffy. Add eggs and yolks, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla. With mixer on low, alternately add flour mixture in 3 parts and milk in 2, beginning and ending with flour mixture; mix just until combined. Spread batter in prepared pan.
Bake until a toothpick inserted in center of cake comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool in pan 10 minutes; invert onto a wire rack to cool completely. Using a serrated knife, split cake in half horizontally; place bottom half, cut side up, on a serving plate.

Make topping: In a large bowl, combine strawberries and 1/4 cup sugar; set aside.
Using an electric mixer, beat cream and remaining 1/4 cup sugar in a large bowl until very soft peaks form.

Arrange half of strawberries over bottom cake layer; top with half of whipped cream, leaving a 1-inch border. Cover with top half of cake, cut side down. Top cake with remaining whipped cream, leaving a 1-inch border. Refrigerate cake and remaining strawberries separately, at least 1 hour (or up to 1 day). Just before serving, spoon strawberries over cake.

Oyako Don

I've always had a soft spot for Japanese cuisine - it's healthy, uses wonderfully fresh ingredients and is bursting with flavor and color. I think it all started when I tasted sushi for the first time in high school. I remember trying to get my parents to appreciate it as much as I did, with little success. My mom is happy with a chirashi at lunch sometimes now (she really likes raw salmon) but I never got them to appreciate much else. I guess there's something about raw fish that doesn't appeal to everyone - much like my love for beef tartare that has given me some strange looks in the past in North America. But my sushi journey continued nontheless - from soft shell crab sushi rolls a couple years ago in Sydney to scallop sashimi from one of my favorite sushi restaurants in Montreal. Good sushi is expensive though, that's a given. A lot of sushi places in Canada try to sell you on the cheaper stuff, but I really don't like it. The cream cheese and sun-dried tomato sushi I've seen is just not my thing... neither is most of the mayonnaise-based rolls with very little fish. So, it turns out that I have been spending more than advised on really good sushi.

Ordering Oyako Don is a great option for those times when you can't spend too much on sushi rolls. You can indulge on a few pieces of sushi as an appetizer, and get a comforting bowl of Japanese rice with sweet mirin-licked onions, tender chicken and egg. The taste of this dish is so very unique - it's sweet and salty, with layers of flavor coming from dashi stock, soy sauce and mirin. It's really, really delicious. Oliver and I tried to make it at home a few times, and I think we've come pretty close to what we get at the restaurant. And the best part? It's ready in 20 minutes (I guess that sounds a little Rachel-Ray like, but you get the point).

Oyako Don (serves 4)
2 cups of sushi rice, cooked
1 white onion, sliced into 1/4 inch slices
1/4 cup of dashi stock
2 teaspoons of mirin
1 tablespoon of soy sauce
1 pinch of brown sugar
4 chicken thighs, trimmed and cut into bite size pieces
2 green onions, sliced
3 eggs, beaten

Heat a little vegetable oil in pan on medium heat and add the onions. Add the dashi, mirin, soy sauce and sugar. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cover. Cook for 7-8 minutes, or until the onions are soft. Add the chicken. Cover and cook for 7-8 minutes - stirring a few times. Add the green onions and stir. Pour the beaten eggs over the chicken and onion mixture in an even layer. Cover and cook until the egg is just set.

Serve over Japanese rice. Enjoy!

Lime & Ginger Trout

Now that the weather is getting a bit warmer (there - I said it. Here comes the rain), thoughts turn to lighter and fresher meals. I no longer return home craving mashed potato, unctuous stews and root vegetables; instead, stir-fries, noodle soups and steamed fish return to grace my dinner plate.

This recipe is one I have been making for quite some time. It works equally well with salmon or trout, and it goes from fridge to plate in an hour. Perfect for those weekday dinners, and healthy to boot. The fish always comes out moist, tender and well flavoured, with the rice providing an adequately bland vehicle for shovelling in your face.

Lime & Ginger Trout

Serves 1

1 trout or salmon fillet

3 sprigs of mint, leaves picked off

A small handful of coriander

1 lime

1 red birds eye chilli

2 tbsp fish sauce

1 clove garlic

2" ginger

Mince the ginger and the garlic together. Add to a bowl, with the fish sauce and the juice of half the lime. Add the chopped chilli. Roughly chop the mint and coriander (reserving some coriander to garnish) and then cover the fish with this marinade. Leave this to marinate for half an hour. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200 degrees.

After half an hour, wrap the fish in foil and make into a loose bag. Make sure you add any of the marinade left in the bowl. Seal tightly, but ensure there's space in the foil bag for the heat to circulate. Pop in the oven for about 10 - 15 minutes. I usually give it a prod after 10 minutes. If the fish flakes easily it's done.

Garnish with a half lime wedge and a scattering of coriander. Serve with steamed white rice. I also stir-fried some carrots and courgette with garlic, ginger and chilli, garnished with spring onion as a side.

Eating Eurovision: Lithuania

For this year's Eurovision, Andrew Webb organised 'Eating Eurovision'. The idea was that 25 food bloggers would get together, pick a country at random out of a hat, and then go off and eat the cuisine of that country. But it's not that simple; we didn't just want 25 themed dinner parties, we wanted to get to the nitty gritty.

You should have seen my face when I chose Lithuania. I felt slightly panicked; I don't know anything about Lithuania. But as I pondered my choice on the way home, I started to feel a bit excited. After all, it's an opportunity to learn about a new country, do some exploring, and hopefully meet some fun people. So the next day, I put a plea for help out on Twitter. I got several leads, including a link to a dodgy-looking caff in the East End but the one that helped the most was the link for Lituanica, a small chain of Lithuanian groceries. When I called them, the nice lady recommended Juoda Balta, which although was in Barking, was indeed Lithuanian. Having had no luck with the Lithuanian Embassy as to any further adventures, I duly booked a table, taking note that they seemed less than interested when I told them I was researching Lithuanian food.

We set off into the night. We arrived at Gallion's Reach DLR station; the torrential rain had just finished, but the wind howled around us. We circumnavigated an extremely big roundabout only to find the road we needed to walk down had an ominous 'No Pedestrians' sign. There was nothing around us; no shops, no cab ranks - only wind and wasteland. "I think we're in Hell", remarked my companion. I agreed. Finally we flagged down a black cab. The cabbie was dubious as to whether or not we had the right directions, but set off at our insistence. He swung down a road marked 'Buses Only', straight into an industrial estate. I gulped. "Girls, I ent letting you out here, I'm not too sure of this". And then, like a beacon in the mist, I spotted Juoda Balta in amongst the Cineplex.

When we walked in, we had to stifle fits of hysterical laughter. It was amazing. A band on stage sang Lithuanian ballads, the black laquered tables were accompanied by faux cow hide chairs, and all the women had waist-length platinum blonde hair, 5" heels and were supping Champagne. All the men were muscled and had the same short, back n' sides haircut. I suppose this is where they get stereotypes from, eh? We were greeted by a big, burly man who I assume was the owner, and we were seated.

It went pretty much downhill from here - warm beer, requests for water ignored. We decided to order some bar snacks and just one dish to share. I'd seen the portions coming out, and although I'm not a girl of a slight appetite, we had just finished a Danish dinner an hour previously. 'Smoked pigs ears, cheese slices, roast bread' - rinkinukas prie alaus (kepta duona,sūrio juostelės ir rukytos kiaulės ausys) in Lithuanian - sounded pretty interesting.


Oh, it was interesting alright. Cold deep fried bread soldiers were so crunchy it hurt my head, yet chewy. The cheese was lightly smoked and tasted like Dairy Lea. The pigs ears were a crime against pork; it had the texture of really old jellyfish. Along the centre of each slice ran a tasty sliver of cartilege, and this was surrounded by pork skin and pork jelly. We tried our best, but we left most of it.

Feeling slightly despondent, we waited for our 'cepelinai', a traditional Lithuanian potato dish, to arrive. Some time passed before this glory landed on our table:

We were gobsmacked. They were gigantic - and this was one portion! They looked like a pair of steamed suet sponges, garnished with sour cream and bacon. We tentatively cut into the zeppelins:

They were bready, stodgy, slightly sticky and filled with a non-descript unseasoned meat. Oh, for some herbs in the sour cream! Or maybe even just some vegetables for a texture contrast. I think I did quite well to eat half of one.

My companion looked a little upset. The euphoric rush of having arrived was a distant memory. All hopes of having a jolly good knees-up were dashed upon sitting down as table after table looked at us with slight disdain. We tried desperately to finish at least one dish, but to no avail. In the end, we gave up trying to get the waitress' attention, and went to the bar to pay. The lady owner of the joint glanced over. "You didn't like it, did you?" I insisted it was just very filling, but she gave a short laugh and told us that although it was their most popular dish, it was food men eat. Having seen the size of the men in there, I wasn't surprised.

Standing outside in the carpark, smoking a cigarette and being rejected by several taxi firms to pick us up, a young Lithuanian man approached us and asked for a lighter. We told him we were English - he asked if we'd just been to Frankie & Benny's. No, we said - we've just been to Juoda Balta, same place as you. "Really?!" he exclaimed, "fucking hell!"

Well, indeed.