Shrimp Tempura Quotes

These noodles are so supple and chewy it's difficult to believe they're 90 percent buckwheat! The sweet taste of buckwheat blooms in the mouth like a fragile flower. What a wondrously delicate flavor! That does it. I'm having soba noodles for dinner tonight! "Now for the tempura shrimp!" How light and crispy! The sakura shrimp are pleasantly crunchy, while their tempura shell is airy and crispy! I can easily distinguish the texture and deliciousness of each individual shrimp in every bite! The crispy crunch of the tempura shrimp and the sleek smoothness of the noodles make for an excellent contrast in textures. Even after I've swallowed a bite, the sweetly savory aftertaste of the sakura shrimp lingers in the mouth like a perfume.

Lobster tomalley fish innards! The richness of all the ingredients have melded into one powerful whole! What a robust, almost wild flavor! Next, let's try the broth together with the noodles... here I go! Ye gods! I have to hold myself together or I'll black out! As it is, that was nearly a knockout punch! Who knew umami flavor could be this powerfully violent! How about the toppings? I see three varieties of shredded cheese. Rouille... *Rouille is a type of aioli, usually consisting of olive oil, breadcrumbs and various spices like garlic and chili flakes. It, along with croutons and cheese, is a standard garnish to Soupe de Poisson.* And are those tempura flakes? Aha! He must have added those as a crouton analogue! And finally the rusk! It looks like it's been spread with Échiré butter and well toasted. Perhaps it was added as a palate cleanser for after that strong, rich broth. WHAT?! What an intense, aromatic flavor! But where is all of this coming from?! Hm? What are these pink flakes in the butter? Wait, now I see! Those shells he crushed! He had them dried to increase their umami flavor!" "It's about time you noticed. I added those powdered shells to everything in this dish, from the soup stock to the butter on the rusk." "See, the umami flavor in lobsters and shrimp comes from three elements: glycine, arginine and proline. Of all seafood, crustaceans carry the highest concentration of umami components, y'know. Since Ryo took that powdered lobster shell- chock full of those three umami components- and added it to every element of the dish... ... it's, like, only natural that it's flavor is going to have a strong umami punch.

The restaurant Muromachi Sunaba, opened in 1869, is considered the pioneer of chilled soba with tempura. Their fame came from their version served with a side of tempura Shiba shrimp. Miss Kinokuni's dish is similar. Though instead of the strong umami of Shiba shrimp, she chose to make her tempura from the smaller, sweeter and more refined sakura shrimp. A wise choice, as its delicate flavor pairs exceptionally well with the mild and fragile sweetness of her soba noodles! Once you take a bite, it is precisely that combination that makes it impossible to stop! The sublimely smooth and refreshing texture of the noodles combined with the sweet crunch of the sakura shrimp envelops the taster in a cocoon of delicious bliss... ... making it seem as if they've eaten the entire dish in only a single bite!

7. SUSHI IS ABOUT THE FISH, IDIOTS Sushi is raw fish, Fresh, oily, fatty, delicate, slightly cool, thinly sliced or expertly cubed sections of the delicious nectar of the sea. That’s the whole point of sushi. When you eat rolls slathered with cream cheese, fried onions, flavored mayonnaise, syrup, tempura shrimp poppers, mango chutney, and deep-fried marshmallows, you are missing the entire point of sushi and should just go eat at Applebee’s. (Especially on “Wings ‘n’ Waffles Wednesdays.”) When you roll your piece of sushi in a pool of salty soy sauce, stack a pile of ginger on top of your fish, or wipe the entire surface of the sushi with ewasabi, you are committing a crime against a fish, the ocean, and even the great Poseidon himself. Eat a delicious raw piece of fish, wrapped in a tiny belt of seaweed on a small bed of fluffy rice. Stir a little bit of wasabi into the soy sauce and let a small amount graze the fish itself (without using your rice as a soy sauce sponge). Enjoy the piece in one single bite, and savor the glorious explosion of seafood goodness. You’re welcome, America. And Japan.

The kids had already mangled the fruit plate, but the sashimi- fresh raw tuna- fanned out in cool pink glory next to makizushi sushi rolls. Marinated mochiko chicken still steamed, crispy fresh from the deep fryer, and Grandma's homemade pickled vegetables- takuwan and tsukemono- lay in small dishes next to it. "Oooh, one of the aunties made shrimp tempura." Trish piled hand-battered, deep-fried shrimp on a paper plate.

To our surprise and delight, dinner was stupendous. Served in our room at the low polished wood table, it exuded a freshness and artistry we had not seen since leaving Kyoto. The sashimi- sea bream, squid, and skipjack- tasted as clean as a freshly sliced apple. Rusty-red miso soup had a meaty fortifying flavor enhanced with cubes of tofu and slithery ribbons of seaweed. The tempura, served in a basket of woven bamboo, shattered to pieces like a well-made croissant. Hiding inside the golden shell was a slice of Japanese pumpkin, a chunk of tender white fish, an okra pod, a shiitake mushroom cap, and a zingy shiso leaf. Pale yellow chawan-mushi also appeared in a lidded glass custard cup. With a tiny wooden spoon we scooped up the ethereal egg and dashi custard cradling chunks of shrimp, sweet lily buds, and waxy-green ginkgo nuts. In a black lacquer bowl came a superb seafood consommé, along with a knuckle of white fish, tuft of spinach, mushroom cap, and a tiny yellow diamond of yuzu zest. A small lacquer bucket held several servings of sticky white rice to eat with crunchy radish pickles and shredded pressed cabbage. A small wedge of honeydew melon concluded the meal.

He's on to sashimi now, fanning and curling slices of snapper and fugu into white roses on his cutting board. Before Toshio can plate the slices, Shunichi reaches over and calmly replaces the serving plate his son has chosen with an Edo-era ceramic rectangle more to his liking. Three pieces of tempura- shrimp, eggplant, new onion- emerge hissing and golden from the black iron pot in the corner, and Toshio arranges them on small plates with wedges of Japanese lime. Before the tempura goes out, Shunichi sneaks in a few extra granules of salt while Toshio's not looking. By now Dad is shadowing his son's every move. As Toshio waves a thin plank of sea cucumber eggs over the charcoal fire, his dad leans gently over his shoulder. "Be careful. You don't want to cook it. You just want to release its aroma." Toshio places a fried silverfish spine on a craggy ceramic plate, tucks grated yuzu and sansho flowers into its ribs, then lays a sliver of the dried eggs over the top. The bones shatter like a potato chip, and the sea cucumber detonates in my mouth.