Takoyaki mania!

A happy Happy Hour on the terrace (OK, it's a coralled sidewalk) in the dappled sun with coworkers at Nijo reminded me of takoyaki. Because we had some. Because I love takoyaki.

We had octopus takoyaki with scallion, really, really good. Fluffy and hot. Not too much sauce. Accompanied by $4 Lychee Martinis. Very fresh, matched the nice weather and soft afternoon breezes and bonhomie.

One of the things I really like about the Nijo menu is that it is full of vegetarian dishes alongside the seafood, so we can bring our whole design team, some of whom are from India.

If you don't know what takoyaki is (An Osaka specialty, along with okonomiyaki which I also LOVE) or need a new song to get stuck in your head, I have helpfully provided this video.

I have never made takoyaki myself, but I have the maker (no, not the one in the video, alas) somewhere. It's cast-iron and has little octopi in bas-relief in each little cup so the balls get a little tattoo. Maybe it's time to dust it off and dive into fullscale takoyaki production.

Rusty celery

You're at an airport. You're making food choices to accommodate a group. You don't expect much. Sigh.

But what you do not expect, even with the expectations at rock-bottom, is celery that looks like it was scavenged from the back of a shelf in the walk-in, vintage unknown. Boo, Chili's.

When a chain earns comments like, "Bad even for Chili's," I guess you know to stay away from the entire operation, even at airports under duress. Will do.

Catfish banh mi

Back in Houston, and of course there's a little food to discuss. It's a work trip, so it's not as if each meal is special: time is short, control is shared, and logistics are tied to who needs to be where, when. So here's what has been up:

1. Some takeout from Whole Foods: ** 1/2
2. Fage Greek Yogurt from Whole Foods: ****
3. A few bites of corporate campus Thai food: ** 1/2
4. Homemade Indian snacks (Paneer Pakoras, sliced kiwis and mangoes) at my colleague's cousin's house in Sugarland: ***** +
5. Dinner at Vegas-themed Gringo's Tex-Mex in Sugar Land: * (apologies to the lovely hosts, may they never see this post!)
6. Lunch at India's:  **** (Zagat: "Excellent")
7. Dinner sandwiches at...remember the catfish banh mi at Givral's, "for the Lenten season?" I had it! **** 1/2

First, some mis-en-scène.

Bellaire Blvd. in Westchase has a pretty amazing strip of Asian, mostly Vietnamese, strip malls and commercial complexes of various vintages stretching a few miles. To the East of Sam Houston Tollway:

And now, back on the downtown side of the Sam Houston Tollway, but not by much, the sublime Catfish banh mi and accompanying Café du Monde Vietnamese coffee (ca phe) before hot or iced (hot!!!) water was added:

Hopefully, you can see the perfect cooking of the fish and the SIZE of the seeds-in (hot!!!) jalapeño pieces in the sandwich, as well as the light, flaky, freshness of the baguette. Abundance of cilantro.

Want a glimpse of less ethereal food locales mentioned above but not featured? OK! Let's Go:

And at the above establishment, a salad Xx bigger than your head (Ho-Hum-Food Department):

What is your potsticker wearing?

Pretty much everywhere I go, potstickers seem to be served with soy sauce. Period.

I object! This is not the way to eat potstickers. Once you try them with the right dressing, you'll be a sad, sad individual like me at restaurants, staring down potstickers looking naked with a wardrobe of the wrong things to wear.

What send potstickers into the firmament is:

Rice vinegar + hot chili oil.

That's it. Srsly. Not chili paste or chili sauce, but chili oil. When it mixes on the plate with the vinegar, it makes a glaze, potsticker-centric vinaigrette that absolutely sends you.

Try it, Tell me if I am not über-correct. Tell me if after trying this you prefer soy sauce. Good luck.

NOTE: When I was 10, we moved from Vermont to San Francisco and within what seems like weeks we were experiencing amazing flavors and International traditions, and this edict of mine comes from forays to Hunan, one of the city's first pepper-driven, no-MSG, western-friendly Chinese restaurants. It was located mere blocks from Chinatown proper, but in an akward fringe part of the downtown business zone, and hence felt neither inscrutable nor touristy to its slavering patrons.

The best sale page!

Thanks to the sale page at Capri Flavors, I am now the proud owner of many, many packages of really nice Italian dried penne, etc. pasta made in bronze dies. Though we often make pasta at home, it's nice to have a pantry.

I also fell for the packaged "croissants," not sure what to expect. As it happens, these pastries taste just like wonderful, spongy panettone and who doesn't love that?!

BTW, a Panettone-buying tip: In my opinion, the boxed pannetone with dust on it often exceeds the flavor of fresh panettone, so don't be deterred or suspicious. It's made to last and gets better with age!

French honey & Vermont maple cream

Two disclaimers: My childhood was spent in Vermont. I am a little iffy on honey in general.

Another pantry thing I picked up at Garagiste the other day is a jar of Maquis Honey, something I had never heard of. It's got the consistency of a paste, rather than a viscous liquid. It has crystallized regions of the jar.

It is usually made in Corsica, but this one's from Haute Languedoc (let your browser translate from French for you if you follow that link), near the southern central coast of France. I am reading here and there that its savory flavor and lack of the usual sweetness is the result of herb-ridden and scrub-brushy terrain where the bees forage. It's said to taste like lavender, myrtle and whatnot.

A taste test was proposed, pitting this lovely honey against my beloved maple cream — spreadable maple sugar!

What happened was surprise: On a nice Macrina  ficelle toast, this pasty honey made the maple cream seem too sweet and simple in comparison.

I can see having the Maquis honey with cheeses. In fact, one of my favorite recent-ish dining-out dishes was a really amazing cheese and honey pairing at Hitchcock.

The maple cream is still up there in my pantheon of foods, though.

Mustard

Mustards like no other, conveniently delivered in a well-designed tube: Tubissime, from Paris. These mustards first came into my life as a gift from a superfriend.

Then, they showed up at Garagiste, where we sometimes buy really interesting and delicious wine based on subscription list offerings (Cool service: you buy wine and they store it until you want to schedule a Seattle pickup or ask for shipping of everything you've bought). Yay!

If you are skeptical about whether this mustard is truly delicious or just a novelty, the little picture at the left should straighten you out. 

We have enjoyed these mustards in the following flavors: 3 peppers, tarragon, truffle. Now, we will be embarking on the Espelette (a Basque paprika-like delight) and with-nuts flavors. Can't wait!