欧宝娱乐

“The key to this risotto is Japanese peppers of all things?!"
"It's sharp, refreshing aroma highlights the mellow body of the cheese... while making the eel's umami flavor flash like an explosion!"
"And that one key ingredient that quietly ties it all together...
... is garlic!"
"Garlic?! In traditional Japanese cuisine?! That's almost unheard of!"
"Those are special smoked garlic chips a junior of mine made. They were smoked using wood from a walnut tree, which is known to emphasize seafood flavors well. By lightly crushing those chips and sprinkling them on as a topping, I added a pleasantly crunchy texture to the dish.
But the most critical feature of my dish... is that I broiled the eel using the Kansai region Kabayaki style. Unlike the Kanto region style, there's no steaming step. Leaving all that oil in gives the eel a more fragrant aroma with a heavier texture and stronger flavor...
... meaning it pairs much more naturally with a flavor as powerful as garlic. *Steaming the eel makes much of its natural oil seep out, leaving the flesh light and fluffy.*
But what makes these chips so extraordinary... is that they're infused with Ibusaki's earnest passion and the pure sweat of his helpers, Aoki and Sato. There's no way they could not be delicious!"
"Ew! Don't say they're infused with sweat! That's gross!"
"This much alone is already an impressively polished gourmet course. What's in store for us in that teapot?"
"That is eel-liver broth, my lady. I dressed the eel's liver and then sautéed it in olive oil with some smoked garlic chips. Then I poured the sake Sakaki and Marui made over the top and let the alcohol cook off before adding bonito stock to make a broth. It matches beautifully with the cheese that Yoshino and Nikumi made, creating a soft flavor with a splendid aftertaste.”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 25 [Shokugeki no Souma 25]

“ Each bite is a tidal wave of savory, fatty eel juices...
... made fresh and tangy by the complementary flavors of olive oil and tomato!
...!
It's perfect!
This dish has beautifully encapsulated the superbness of Capitone Eel!"
"Capitone specifically means 'Large Female Eel'!
It's exactly this kind of eel that is served during Natale season from Christmas to New Year's.
Compared to normal eels, the Capitone is large, thick and juicy! In fact, it's considered a delicacy!"
"Yes, I've heard of them! The Capitone is supposed to be significantly meatier than the standard Anguilla."
*Anguilla is the Italian word for regular eels.*
"Okay. So the Capitone is special.
But is it special enough to make a dish so delicious the judges swoon?"
"No. The secret to the Capitone's refined deliciousness in this dish lies with the tomatoes.
You used San Marzanos, correct?"
"Ha Ragione! (Exactly!)
I specifically chose San Marzano tomatoes as the core of my dish!"
Of the hundreds of varieties of tomato, the San Marzano Plum Tomato is one of the least juicy.
Less juice means it makes a less watery and runny sauce when stewed!
"Thanks to the San Marzano tomatoes, this dish's sauce remained thick and rich with a marvelously full-bodied taste.
The blend of spices he used to season the sauce has done a splendid job of highlighting the eel's natural flavors as well."
"You can't forget the wondrous polenta either. Crispy on the outside and creamy in the middle.
There's no greater garnish for this dish."
*Polenta is boiled cornmeal that is typically served as porridge or baked into cakes.*
"Ah. I see. Every ingredient of his dish is intimately connected to the eel.
Garlic to increase the fragrance, onion for condensed sweetness...
... and low-juice tomatoes. Those are the key ingredients.”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 25 [Shokugeki no Souma 25]

“Iris's favorite item at Tenta is anago, sea eel. Unlike its freshwater cousin unagi, anago is neither endangered nor expensive. A whole anago at Tenta is about $7.50. I ordered one, and the chef pulled a live eel out of a bucket. It wriggled like, well, an eel. Iris screamed as water droplets flew toward us. The chef managed to wrestle the unruly thing into the sink and knocked it unconscious before driving a spike into its head and filleting it. He unzipped two fillets in seconds. A Proven?al saying holds that a fish lives in water and dies in oil; in the world of tempura, a fish can go from watery cradle to oily grave in ten seconds.
Iris loved fried eel meat, dipped in salt, but this is not her favorite part of the anago. After filleting the eel, the chef takes its backbone- hone in Japanese- ties it in a simple overhand knot, and tosses it into the frying oil. "Hone," he says, presenting it to Iris, who considers it the ultimate in crispy snack food- and this is a kid who considers taco-flavored Doritos a work of genius (OK, so do I).”
― Matthew Amster-Burton, Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo

“The younger guy placed the eel meat atop our rice and then pulled out the world's coolest cooking utensil. My jaw literally dropped. I looked over at Iris. Her mouth was hanging open, too. The world's coolest cooking utensil is a sauce ladle. The cup at the end of the handle is a cube with three thin spouts emerging from the side, better to dispense sauce thinly over a wide area. It's a tiny watering can for sauce- in this case, sweet eel sauce, made from eel bone broth enriched with soy sauce, sugar, and mirin.”
― Matthew Amster-Burton, Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo

“We ate spiral-wrapped eel meat. We ate guts. We ate liver, which is somehow different from guts. We (mostly Iris) ate two bowls of of crispy fried eel backbones. We ate eel meat wrapped around burdock root and eel fin wrapped around garlic chives. We ate smoked eel that tasted like Jewish deli food. I ate better than anyone, because I was the only member of the family willing to try the offal. All of it was precisely like Oishinbo, down to the eel anatomy chart on the wall. It was like stepping into a book, Neverending Story-style, and isn't a Luck Dragon just a big furry eel?”
― Matthew Amster-Burton, Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo

“I celebrated my arrival in Kyoto with a dinner of grilled eel, a sublime delicacy in Japan. In the water the fish resembles a ferocious jagged-toothed snake. But when sizzled over hot charcoal it looks like a fillet of sole that has spent the winter in Palm Beach. The skin turns crisp and smoky and the fatty white flesh, basted with a sweet soy syrup, becomes deeply tanned and as succulent as foie gras.”
― Victoria Abbott Riccardi, Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto

“I lost Tomiko and her mother at the eel stall. It was the place to buy prepared fillets of unagi, as meltingly tender as a stick of soft butter. A spotlight shone down on the delicate fillets, gleaming under a varnish of sweet soy glaze. Every eel shop and restaurant makes its own special glaze, which eel purists often forgo. All eel lovers, however, sprinkle on sansho, the tingly tongue-numbing green powder from the ground dried seedpods of the prickly ash tree that lifts the dish from sumptuous to sensational.
At that particular eel shop, the fillets, priced according to their fatty succulence, were still warm and drenched with sauce.
The next few shops were a sashimi lover's paradise. Spiky forest-green sea urchins swollen with creamy yellow eggs sat in green plastic baskets beside huge steak-like sides of tuna, caught only hours ago from the icy waters off Japan. Gigantic octopuses with suction cups like the bottom of rubber bathtub mats rested on ice near sapphire-silver mackerel imbricated on round white platters.”
― Victoria Abbott Riccardi, Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto

“Mmm! It's so hot and juicy! It looks like he marinated the eel in some red wine and cinnamon to underscore its flavor with a touch of freshness before he cooked it."
"I stuck some gunpowder in that eel, y'know. Some very special gunpowder...
to blow your dish out of the water!"
"Mmm! What?!"
Where did this sharp, vivid taste come from?!
The eel.
Kurokiba must have secreted something inside of it...
He got us.
It's dried plums!"
Dried plums? You mean prunes?!"
"Eel and prunes?!"
Aha.
He rehydrated some dried plums and then used the crépine to keep them wrapped inside of the eel.
"Mmm! The fruity tang of the plums is mixing together with the rich, heavy juices from the eel...”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 11 [Shokugeki no Souma 11]

“He's panfried those thick, juicy chunks of eel to a perfect golden brown!"
"And now he's going to simmer it in red wine with a bouquet garnish!"
"I thought so. Ryo Kurokiba is making a matelote!"
EEL MATELOTE
Coming from the French word for sailor, matelote is freshwater fish stewed in a red-wine sauce. Any fish can be used, but the most traditional preparations include freshwater eel.
"That is definitely a dish fit for the Western-Entrée theme."
"Huh? Didn't he have the eel filleted before? Now they're back to their old shape again."
"He wrapped them in a crépine to hold them in shape. A logical choice, given the chef. The fattiness of the crépine adds depth to the eel's flavor, giving it a greater punch."
Eel Matelote... hot and fluffy mashed potatoes... handmade brioche rolls...
He's quickly and efficiently playing his cards one by one!
I see. So this...
... is how he pieces together such powerful dishes.
He has built a deck packed with strong cards to completely overpower his opponent...
... just like a veteran card gamer! ”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 11 [Shokugeki no Souma 11]

“Japanese people may find this surprising, but eel is a common ingredient in European cuisine.
Kurokiba's Eel Matelote from the Classic's Semifinal Round is one such European dish."
"Southern Italy in particular has a tradition of eating eel right around Natale, which is Christmas. It's often served during the feasts for La Vigilia on Christmas Eve night.
The eels are supposed to symbolize devils, and eating them is thought to be a charm warding off bad luck and evil spirits.”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 25 [Shokugeki no Souma 25]

“This one is skewered guts. It's all the guts except the liver."
"It's got that unique texture of a gut, with a slightly bitter taste!"
"The flavor of the guts tends to seep out when you make soup with it, but this retains all its refreshing original flavor!"
"This is a fin skewer. As you can guess from its name, it's the dorsal fin of the eel...
... wrapped around a skewer with ribs and garlic chives."
"This is my favorite one!"
"They throw these parts away when they make kabayaki."
"Ah! I understand why this is your favorite, Yamaoka-san! The eel and the garlic chives create a rich, savory flavor!"
"I never thought eel and garlic chives would go so well together!"
"The dorsal fin of a left-eyed flounder is called an engawa, and it's considered a delicacy. It's the most active part of the fish's body, so it's fatty and good to eat."
"The same goes for the eel."
"This one is the collar. It's the meat around the neck, below the eyes...
... which I cut open and skewered after taking the head off.
The head bone is very tough, so this is the only part of the eel I throw away."
"Hmm, so it's called the "collar" because it's the area around the neck."
"It has a complex flavor to it too. It's totally different from the stomach meat, the guts or the dorsal fin!"
"It kind of tastes like a mixture of fish and lamb meat! There are so many other skewers, right?!"
"Yahata-maki, which is eel meat wrapped around burdock.
Tanzaku, where the meat has been cut like strips of paper.
Smoked eel.
And of course, we can't forget the famous kabayaki.”
― Tetsu Kariya, Izakaya: Pub Food

“Kabayaki-style means brushed with sauce, skewered on sticks and then grilled over charcoal. For a Tokyo-style eel kabayaki, the eel is split open from its back, grilled without the sauce, steamed and then grilled again with the sauce. For the Kansai-style, the eel is split open from its stomach, and then grilled right away without being steamed.”
― Tetsu Kariya, Izakaya: Pub Food

“This is the tale of 'Anguillette'," Henriette de Murat begins, rehearsed and fluent. "Now, to whatever greatness destiny may elevate those it favors, I think we will all agree there is no escape in this world from sorrow. Even fairies themselves have a burden to endure. Did you know that these creatures have the misfortune of being compelled to change their shape, a few days in every lunar month? It is true, they become their animal selves, whether that beast is celestial, terrestrial, or aquatic! So it was that at her time of the month, the fairy Anguillette found that she transformed into a thick, slick, muscular eel, whose skin glistened with a rainbow...”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Everything on this platter is hamo eel or ayu sweetfish: two essential parts of Kyoto summer cuisine," explained Nagare. "Starting from the top left: miniature hamo sushi rolls. One teriyaki-style, and one shirayaki--- without any seasoning, that is. Next to that, in the small bowl, is shredded hamo eel skin, pickled and served with okra. On top of the bamboo grass leaf are two little ayu, caught in the Katsura River--- salted and grilled. In the glass sake cup is a delicacy known as uruka--- basically the salted entrails and roe of the ayu. Similar to shiokara, if you've had that. The deep-fried dish in the middle on the right is ayu fry. They're sprinkled with sansho pepper salt, so you can enjoy them as they are. Bottom right, on the perilla leaf, is hamo no otoshi: boiled slices of the eel, served with pickled plum paste and myoga ginger. Bottom left, meanwhile, is hamo no hasamiyaki, which is seasoned with white miso and fried between slices of Yamashina eggplant.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Here's the soup. Nothing new, but if you're going to have broth in summer, it has to be botan-hamo: lightly boiled hamo eel, named for the way it's cut into the shape of a peony to remove the bones. As for this ayu rice, the only ingredient is in the name. The fish are deboned, so all you need to do is sprinkle some of these chopped mitsuba leaves on top. The pickles on the side are eggplant and myoga ginger. Now, you tuck in, and I'll bring you a cup of hojicha.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes