Ah, London…

The city where I attended a youth art camp at Central Saint Martins five summers ago, where I roamed around freely, where I discovered British eccentric fashion, where I spent my free afternoons idling at Tate by the riverbank… Although I had initial difficulties living alone in this foreign land, I eventually came to embrace the city, its character, and its pace.

It was with this nostalgic mood that I found myself in London once again, this time with a companion.  Of the three cities that Justin and I were visiting, I awaited our arrival in London with the greatest anticipation: I could not wait to rediscover and re-experience the city as my older self.  Whereas five years ago I was a high school art geek aspiring to enter one of the world’s finest art schools, now I have already graduated from university with a degree in history and psychology.  Looking outside our train on our way to city centre, it was a bittersweet, surreal feeling.

Sometimes I wonder…

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Our “home” for the next ten days was a hostel located across the Borough Market named “Orient Expresso.”  It is part of the St. Christopher’s Inn chain, which has branches across Europe.  Because we were too early for the hostel’s check-in time, we dropped off our luggage with the counter and dragged our exhausted selves out for a walk (more precisely, my weary self and Justin’s drugged self).

The sky was grim and leaden by the time we crossed the Thames River.  Before we could figure out our location, rain began to fall heavily.  Caught without our rain gear, we sought refuge in a red telephone box.  Fortunately, it was finally check-in time.  We darted to the closest tube station and returned to our hostel, where we threw ourselves at our beds and napped until we could no longer ignore our growling stomachs.  Too tired to seek out British cuisine, we visited Chinatown, located by Leicester Square, for some comfort food.  

This was when our questionable love affair with London’s Chinatown commenced.  As you will see over the next few posts, it quickly assumed a routine existence in our daily excursions.  Not that we dined there everyday (although we were shamefully close), but we would frequently find ourselves passing through the area when trying to get from one place to another.  Blame it on its central location.

(Aside from Chinatown, the tube station Waterloo and its long moving walkway also became a regular on this trip.)

For both of us, London’s Chinatown was a much more welcoming sight than the ones we have seen in Montreal, Vancouver, or New York.  Despite its small size, its stone-paved streets were generously lined with Chinese and Japanese restaurants, bakeries, and pubs.  Rather than a place to get fake Balenciaga bags (i.e. as in NYC), it was primarily a neighbourhood reserved for dining and having fun.

Having done a quick survey of what the bustling quarter had to offer, we decided to have our first dinner in Europe at a Japanese joint called “Tokyo Diner.”  The funny thing was, I had randomly dined at this same restaurant five years ago.  I did not realize this until we descended into its basement dining area: “Eh?!  Weren’t I here for supper before?!”  Maybe there are quite a bit of temporal consistencies in our preferences and decision making afterall?  I suppose so.  

Justin, on his first visit to Tokyo Diner, ordered curry katsu, the same dish that I had ordered years ago from this kitchen.  Instead of repeating myself, I had curry udon.  The meal was not spectacular per se, but I was glad to be slurping hot curry broth after a long day of travel. 

After dinner, the two of us dropped by a nearby Boots to pick up some “necessities.”  In Joyce’s lingo, this meant facial masks.  I never perceived myself as an idiotic “high-maintenance” girl, but come to think of it, I may not be as far away from this dreaded stereotype as I think I am.  Take for example, this one time when some unexpected problems arose and I was forced to leave my apartment and stay at Justin’s place for a few nights: 

“Shit, I forgot to bring my toothbrush.”  

“What?  Then what did you bring?”  

“Hmm… My eyelash curler?…” 

We also went for a random stroll around Soho, amusing ourselves with its shop fronts and drunkards.  For reasons that I shall keep to myself, this was one of my fondest moments from this entire vacation.

<< On the Plane :: Day Two >>

Names & Addresses:

St. Christopher’s Inn
59 Borough High Street
London, SE1 IHR 

Tokyo Diner
2 Newport Place
London, WC2H 7JP

I have been experimenting with a few new recipes using nagaimo (長芋/山藥), a yam that has long been noted in Japanese and Chinese cuisine for its nutritional and medicinal value.  One variation that I attempted was these fritters.  The idea came from this recipe from a website featuring produces and cuisine from the Aomori (青森) prefecture, which is a prime producer of nagaimo in Japan.

I made several adaptations to the recipe.  In the original recipe, yam is added to the pan before bacon.  For mine, I reversed this order to allow the bacon more time to cook.  We also would not need extra oil to coat the pan, as the bacon itself will provide enough grease.  I added some potato flour to thicken the batter: grated nagaimo* by itself was too runny to handle.

Ingredients and Procedure

• 120 g nagaimo, peeled and grated
• 2 tsp potato flour
• a dash of ground white pepper
• a dash of soy sauce
• 1 strip of bacon
• green onions, chopped

In a bowl, mix the nagaimo with potato flour, white pepper, soy sauce, and green onions.  Cut bacon into 3 cm strips.

Heat a nonstick pan over medium low heat.  Add bacon strips to pan and let them sizzle for about 30 to 45 seconds.  Drop a dallop of the nagaimo mixture over each piece of bacon.  Flip and cook the other side when bacon is cooked and the fritter is golden brown.

There, you’re done.

* Note: Grated nagaimo is also called “tororo.”  It kind of reminds me of “totoro.”  :D

(Barley rice with nori garnish, tororo-bacon fritters, tamagoyaki, broccoli, cherry tomato)

My first bento post in two months, and wow, I still cannot believe how much has changed (for better or for worse) since then.  Making bentos and writing for this blog are among the very few things that give me a sense of constancy at the moment.  But even then, there are a few small changes with this new setting.

Now that I have moved back to my hometown on the West Coast (man, how I miss the East Coast!), I have access to bigger and better Asian stores.  Hopefully I will be able to incorporate a greater range of ingredients in my lunch box.  For starters, I experimented with nagaimo (a type of yam) and made these tororo-bacon fritters this week.  I cannot wait to work with other vegetables and spices that I spotted at markets!

Instead of always having plain rice, I want to introduce other grains to my diet.  I must confess that I don’t think I will ever be able to give up white rice, but perhaps it will be possible for me to “kick it up a notch.”  Here, I added some barley to regular white rice.  Barley is a great source of dietary fibre and can be easily added to white: just soak it for an hour in advance and cook it with your rice like you always do.

This is part of my plan to adopt a better diet.  Overall, I want to take the next few months as a preparation period for the next stage of my life (read: law school).  Aside from the standardized tests and admission applications, I also want to, or need to, recuperate.  Non-stop work and late nights from the past two semesters and events from the past two months have taken a toll on my body and spirit.  It really is when the “storm” is over and you let your guard down that you start to feel the aftermath.

So let’s cheer for better health and brighter complexion.

P.S.: Somehow my tamagoyaki pan has gone missing in my transcontinental move (ugh, moving…).  Until I retrieve it or find a replacement, I will just have to use my mother’s giant wok.  Actually, the wok works just as well as the tamagoyaki pan, although I won’t get those nice 90-degree edges.  Oh well… I like rounded edges too. (苦笑)

One thing that I dislike the most about travelling is, well, travelling itself.  Thoughts of hauling heavy luggage up and down, running into unexpected delays, and eating lousy sandwiches at stations are enough to turn me into the world’s grumpiest person.

(And to warn you, I am a grumpy person to begin with.) (笑)

Our grand voyage across the Atlantic began with a two-hour delay.  Because we had arrived at the airport extra early to be safe, we found ourselves having too much time on our hands.  So the two of us passed time by eating some overly sweet lemon pie. 

We also pondered about the nature of airports: can airports become more pleasant spaces?  Better architectural and interior design?  More interesting shops and restaurants?  My own understanding is that visits to airports are structured to be temporary and liminal.  For the ordinary traveller, they are a means to an end, but rarely an end in themselves.  Cognitively, one interprets it as a stage that one must overcome before achieving one’s goal (i.e. reaching the destination, seeing one’s family and friends).  This obligatory status diminishes the potential intrinsic allure of an airport.  Once it becomes a routine part of your itinerary, it is often a place of boredom and irritation.  

If we step back from this practical view, airports can be a poetic and symbolic space.  Among my favourite writings on travelling are those by Alain de Botton:

Nowhere is the appeal of the airport more concentrated than in the television screens which hang in rows from terminal ceilings announcing the departure and arrival of flights…. Tokyo, Amsterdam, Istanbul.  Warsaw, Singapore, Rio.  The screens bear all the poetic resonance of the last line of James Joyce’s Ulysses: at once a record of where the novel was written, and no less importantly, a symbol of the cosmopolitan spirit behind its composition: “Trieste, Zurich, Paris.”  The constant calls of the screens, some accompanied by the impatient pulsing of a cursor, suggest with what ease our seemingly entrenched lives might be altered, were we to walk down a corridor and on to a craft that in a few hours would land us in a place of which we had no memories and where no one knew our names.  How pleasant to hold in mind, through the crevasses of our moods, at three in the afternoon when lassitude and despair threaten, that there is always a plane taking off for somewhere. — from “On Going to the Airport,” On Seeing and Noticing

If travelling is what I dislike the most about travelling, then it is also my favourite thing.  It is about removing myself physically from my rut so that I can acquire new perspectives about both the unfamiliar and the familiar.  It is like stepping into your apartment after going away for a long time and thinking to yourself: “Hmm, so that’s the smell of my apartment!”

(On the note of Mr. de Botton, I think Justin would be intrigued by his other book, if he hasn’t encountered it already.)

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After waiting by the gate for two hours, we finally boarded our plane.  When it comes to flying, Justin and I are a tragic duo.  While I am mildly scared of flying, he gets nauseous and prefers to put himself out of his misery with antihistamines.

The best thing to do during an overnight flight is either to sleep or to read.  Unfortunately, I am not one of those lucky souls who can fall asleep sitting in an upright position.  A traumatic experience with unexpected turbulence had also left me hypersensitive to any signs of irregular movements.  Subsequently, I often spend my time wondering when the plane will start to shake and plunge:

“So what if our plane crashes and we die?” I asked.

“Well, if it happens, then it happens,” replied Justin.

“But there is so much that I still have to do!”

“There is nothing that you can do about it.”

“I guess.  Well, at least we are dying together.”

Perhaps this is just one of the peculiarities of human memory, but plane rides used to be a lot more pleasant back when I was just a child.  I mean, didn’t we use to get those play-sets with crayons and a book full of games?

Well, it was not all that miserable: I did manage to nap a little with the aid of Justin’s shoulder and my pillow.  And I was pleasantly surprised by the food offered in this flight.  The chicken this time was actually flavourful and juicy (read: not bland and overcooked)!  Aside from the main meal, I also liked the snack box that they handed out during the last few hours of the journey.  Its packaging (plastic green gingham cloth wrapped around a rectangular paper tray, secured with a white band) resembled a bento box so much that I could not resist taking photos.

I am sure that we all have one or two anecdotes on plane food and have wondered why the food services cannot come up with better, more sensible menus (i.e. see Chubby Hubby’s post).  For those of us who pack bentos, plane food is an especially relevant subject since we are also into well-balanced, on-the-go meals that retain their taste hours after the initial preparation.  Sometimes I wished that the meal planners would check out our bento communities and pick up a few tips.

(Getting conceited, aren’t we?)

Personally, I prefer something light over the saucy dishes that catering companies usually include as the main course.  If I can choose, I would much rather have kimbap, cereal (Vector), and a lot of fruit salad.  Nothing fancy, nothing too flavourful…  What about you?

But I suppose we should cut the catering companies some slack.  I remember talking to one of my professors, who had worked briefly for an European airline, about plane food.  According to him, the reason why plane food tastes bland is because high altitude changes the way our sensory receptors interpret taste.  Moreover, high altitude also effects the way our intestines functions, leaving them swollen and dry.  The bottom line is, a plane soaring through the sky at 30,000 feet above ground is not the best place for dining.

<< Prologue :: Day One >>

(Sorry about the slow speed at which this narrative is approaching the “meat” of the story.  I promise, we will land in Europe next week!)

Twenty-two days away from home, three cities, and two people.

This is a documentation of my recent trip to London, Berlin, and Paris with Justin, the encounter with whom was one of the best things that happened to me during my college years.  Although the two of us had travelled together elsewhere before, this was the first time that we embarked on such an extensive (and expensive) trip.  I am very happy to report that there were quite a bit of food and stories to talk about, so please stay tuned!

But before we proceed any further, let me introduce you to myself and my travel companion:

The Cast

Joyce (the author) is fond of food, parks, and all sorts pretty things.  Going to Europe for the second time, her priorities for this trip were to eat as much as possible, check out vintage shops, buy a lot of dresses, visit the Jewish Museum in Berlin, and picnic in various parks.  She likes to keep travel planning to a minimum and instead prefers to wander freely and get lost.  Consequently, she is also notorious for her carelessness and the mishaps she had encountered in her past travels.  (苦笑)

Justin, who was going across the Atlantic for the first time, takes a special interest in architecture, design, and Disney theme parks.  For him, his principal goals were to familiarize himself with the foreign continent, appreciate its architectural marvels, see museum exhibitions, and visit the Paris Disneyland.  He likes to create meticulous travel plans in advance, a trait that logically made him the chief engineer of this journey.  He develops motion sickness easily and therefore is never able to enjoy the Mad Tea Party.

(Author’s note: This is a gross visual misrepresentation of Justin, and I failed miserably to draw his hairstyle again.  But it is currently 1:19 a.m. and I am too sleepy for another try.)

A Brief Prologue

Our journey began on May 1st and lasted until the 22nd.  The first stop was London, where we would stay until the 10th.  We then would travel to Berlin by plane.  After five days in Berlin, we would leave for Paris and spend our final week there. 

As aforementioned, Justin was the one who did most of the planning.  After we had booked our plane tickets and hostels, I basically did no research until a week before May.  Because I had been too occupied (read: obsessed) with my seminar papers and had exams until two days before the trip, the only substantial research that I completed involved restaurants.  This meant purchasing relevant issues of Gourmet and Bon Appetit and reading online food or fashion blogs, a task that I enjoyed thoroughly.  

This is not to say that I did not toil.  The night before our departure, the man decided to get me to help put together an elaborate itinerary planner, featuring satellite maps of neighbourhoods and landmarks that we would be visiting.  His request came as a surprise, since I had no clue of his intentions.  Secretly I fancied that we would “work,” finish our collective bottle of rum, and go to sleep.  Instead, two sad geeks laboured until four o’clock in the morning.  As a reward for my dedication, I acquired a new zit on my forehead.

Our “love child”

Come to think of it, his determination to produce something so elaborate was somewhat creepy (he even ran to the copy shop the next day to get the thing printed and bound!).  Perhaps this is what four years of architecture school does to people, or maybe he really cared about this trip, or he could just be crazy.  Well, that is Justin for you.  Nevertheless, I have to admit that our efforts did not result in vain and the booklet was very useful: it made German street names a little easier to comprehend.

To Heathrow! >>

*Disclaimer: While the author attempts to write with as much care and honesty as possible, she cannot guarantee that her recollections will represent the views of her companion entirely or accurately.  She will base her writings primarily on her perceptions and interpretations, without making any claims to the “objective truth.”  Any person(s) mentioned in the ensuing posts is free to comment or to raise objections.

So it has been exactly a month since my last post!  So much change has occurred in the past four weeks!  I just graduated from my undergraduate degree last week and have moved back to the west coast.  For now I will occupy myself with LSAT prep tests and law school applications.  Hopefully, I will also be able to enjoy the sun (when the weather here clears up) and wear my summer dresses.

As promised before, I will be doing a few posts on my trip to Europe on frank tastes.  I still need to decide on a template for these travel posts and on their contents.  My goal is to have something up by next Saturday.

Because I no longer need to pack bentos for myself, I do not know whether or not I will be having as many bento posts as before.  One possibility for frank tastes as a bento blog is to explore individual recipes for bento dishes.  Another possibility is to move further away from being a bento-focused blog and include more discussions on general cooking.  As frank tastes is a personal project and an alternative record of my daily life, it makes sense that the direction of the blog reflects the changes in my life.  We will see.

I have also sorted existing recipes on the site into two categories: those meant for bento and those that are not.  Hope that would make things more convenient for you guys.

Anyways, I am glad to be back, and I look forward to speaking with you guys again!

Best,
Joyce 

If you have followed this blog closely, you would perhaps notice that I love using ground meat as a topping for rice.  In the past, I have made Japanese variations like niku miso and buta soboro gohan.  This time, I present you a lazy version of rou-zao-fan (肉燥飯), a common Taiwanese dish that tastes distinctively different from these previous recipes.

Ingredients and Procedure
(Serves 2) 

• 300g ground pork
• 4 gloves of garlic, minced
• 4 shallots, minced
• 2 hard-boiled eggs, shelled
• 70mL light soy sauce
• 10mL dark soy sauce
• 100g Chinese rock sugar (bing-tang)
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 2 anise stars
• 1 dash of ground white pepper
• 60mL water
• green onion or coriander, chopped (optional)

In this recipe, we are using Chinese soy sauces: light soy sauce for flavour and dark soy sauce for colour.  I accidentally added too much dark soy sauce in mine; the ideal product should be a nice and golden “milk chocolate” brown instead of a “dark chocolate” brown.  

Normally, the recipe also calls for deep-fried shallots that are available at Chinese specialty stores.  However, because my local supermarkets do not stock this product, I am using just regular shallots.

We will begin by stir-frying the minced garlic and shallots in a frying pan over medium high heat.  When the garlic and shallots are fragrant and golden, add the minced pork and stir vigorously.  Like other minced meat recipes, we want to break the pork into finer pieces.  Continue cooking until pork has turned colour.

Next, transfer everything in the pan to a pot and remove excess oil.  Add soy sauces, rock sugar, cinnamon, anise, white pepper, and water.  Bring pot to boil, and let shimmer over low heat for 30 minutes.  If you find the sauce too salty, add rock sugar; if you find it not salty enough, add salt.  Add hard-boiled eggs and shimmer for 20 more minutes.  

Serve over rice or noodles and garnish with chopped green onions or coriander if you wish.

Afterthoughts

A simple, flexible, and flavourful dish: my favourite kind of recipe!  Personally, I like the marinated eggs just as much as the pork itself: they are sort of like a sponge that soaks up the rich sauce.  If you want to, you can also add fried tofu too.

(A gross romanticization of myself in chic Nodame-inspired gear)

The day had finally arrived!  I am currently in Europe on my celebratory vacation with mon petit ami.  I will not be back until the last week of May, and I will not be obsessive-compulsively checking the internet and my e-mail (at least I hope I won’t be). This means that there will be no updates for the next few weeks.

Meanwhile, I wish you all the best, and see you again in a few weeks!  Let’s hope that I will be able to do a few Europe-special posts.  Mmmmm… Food.

Cheers,
Joyce 

(Yaki-onigiri wrapped in nori, cherry tomato, red grapes, and gyoza)

Something I made the other day that I thought would be nice to take along when one goes on a picnic hike and visits the squirrels up on the mountain.

Actually, I am planning to go hiking today with this person; unfortunately, I doubt I will have time to whip up a bento in advance.  I have not gone hiking since last October, and this will probably be my last time before I graduate and leave Montreal.  As mentioned before, I am quite fond of the Mont Royal Park.  Every time I went, I always encountered something amusing or special.

Like the time when I attempted to talk to a seagull:

Or the time when a squirrel started to climb up my umbrella without my notice:

I wonder what fun things await us today.

P.S.: Does anyone have any suggestions on good and cheap places to eat at in London, Paris, or Berlin?  I am visiting these three cities shortly, and your suggestions would be much appreciated!

I am writing my last two history research papers that I will ever write again, so please excuse my absence this week. Hopefully I will be able to squeeze a few posts in after this busy-busy period and before I go on vacation in May.

Since I will be spending lots of time at home sitting in front of my laptop, I have been thinking about what sort of comfort food I should feed to my sleep-deprived self. Aside from the usual niku-jaga and slow-cooked dishes, here are some others that I look forward to making:

• Nilmandra’s leek and potato gratin: Quick, simple, and easy-to-get ingredients. This is becoming one of my favourite recipes: I love potato gratins! Personally, I like adding a dash of white wine to the broth and cream mixture.
• Jamie Oliver’s taglierini with a simple sweet tomato sauce and shrimps: The first recipe I chose to try out from his cookbook. I like to substitute the taglierini with other pasta and the cognac with white wine, because these are what I have in my pantry. I may also steal my roommate’s parmigiano-reggiano.
• Gourmet’s steak with olives: From their April 2008 issue (sorry, I couldn’t find an online version!); this is basically slices of medium-rare sirloin steak with an olive-garlic-parsley garnish. During my first trial, I also added some chopped shallots. Damn tasty.

In the even that I will can’t cook and end up having instant ramen, I shall stare at yumatako’s blog and flickr set. Both her food and her photography are very down-to-earth and homey. I feel that if we cook our food right and do it with care, the results will naturally look good and don’t need any elaborate presentation/photography. Yumatako’s cooking exemplifies this idea.

See you soon,
Joyce