欧宝娱乐

“We started getting hungry again, and some of the women started chanting, "MEAT, MEAT, MEAT!"
We were having steak tartare. It was the only appropriate main course we could think of, for such a graceless theme, and seeing as nobody in the club was confident making it, we had to order it in. I made chips to serve with it, though. I deep-fried them in beef fat.
The steak was served in little roulades, raw and minced, like horsemeat. It was topped with a raw egg yolk, chopped onions, pickled beetroot, and capers. I had wanted to use the Wisconsin version, which is served on cocktail bread and dubbed "cannibal sandwich," but Stevie insisted we go classic. Not everyone could stomach theirs with the raw egg yolk, too, and so, unusually for a Supper Club, there was quite a lot left over.
We took another break to drink and move about the room. Some of us took MDMA. Emmeline had brought a box of French macarons, tiny pastel-colored things, which we threw over the table, trying to get them into one another's mouth, invariably missing.
For our proper dessert, we had a crepe cake: a stack of pancakes bound together with melted chocolate. We ate it with homemade ice cream, which was becoming a real staple.”
― Lara Williams, Supper Club

“As I tried various restaurants, certain preconceptions came crashing down. I realized not all Japanese food consisted of carefully carved vegetables, sliced fish, and clear soups served on black lacquerware in a highly restrained manner. Tasting okonomiyaki (literally, "cook what you like"), for example, revealed one way the Japanese let their chopsticks fly.
Often called "Japanese pizza," okonomiyaki more resembles a pancake filled with chopped vegetables and your choice of meat, chicken, or seafood. The dish evolved in Osaka after World War II, as a thrifty way to cobble together a meal from table scraps.
A college classmate living in Kyoto took me to my first okonomiyaki restaurant where, in a casual room swirling with conversation and aromatic smoke, we ordered chicken-shrimp okonomiyaki. A waitress oiled the small griddle in the center of our table, then set down a pitcher filled with a mixture of flour, egg, and grated Japanese mountain yam made all lumpy with chopped cabbage, carrots, scallions, bean sprouts, shrimp, and bits of chicken. When a drip of green tea skated across the surface of the hot meal, we poured out a huge gob of batter. It sputtered and heaved. With a metal spatula and chopsticks, we pushed and nagged the massive pancake until it became firm and golden on both sides. Our Japanese neighbors were doing the same. After cutting the doughy disc into wedges, we buried our portions under a mass of mayonnaise, juicy strands of red pickled ginger, green seaweed powder, smoky fish flakes, and a sweet Worcestershire-flavored sauce. The pancake was crispy on the outside, soft and savory inside- the epitome of Japanese comfort food.
Another day, one of Bob's roommates, Theresa, took me to a donburi restaurant, as ubiquitous in Japan as McDonald's are in America. Named after the bowl in which the dish is served, donburi consists of sticky white rice smothered with your choice of meat, vegetables, and other goodies. Theresa recommended the oyako, or "parent and child," donburi, a medley of soft nuggets of chicken and feathery cooked egg heaped over rice, along with chopped scallions and a rich sweet bouillon. Scrumptious, healthy, and prepared in a flash, it redefined the meaning of fast food.”
― Victoria Abbott Riccardi, Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto

“In theory, toppings can include almost anything, but 95 percent of the ramen you consume in Japan will be topped with chashu, Chinese-style roasted pork. In a perfect world, that means luscious slices of marinated belly or shoulder, carefully basted over a low temperature until the fat has rendered and the meat collapses with a hard stare. Beyond the pork, the only other sure bet in a bowl of ramen is negi, thinly sliced green onion, little islands of allium sting in a sea of richness. Pickled bamboo shoots (menma), sheets of nori, bean sprouts, fish cake, raw garlic, and soy-soaked eggs are common constituents, but of course there is a whole world of outlier ingredients that make it into more esoteric bowls, which we'll get into later.
While shape and size will vary depending on region and style, ramen noodles all share one thing in common: alkaline salts. Called kansui in Japanese, alkaline salts are what give the noodles a yellow tint and allow them to stand up to the blistering heat of the soup without degrading into a gummy mass. In fact, in the sprawling ecosystem of noodle soups, it may be the alkaline noodle alone that unites the ramen universe: "If it doesn't have kansui, it's not ramen," Kamimura says.
Noodles and toppings are paramount in the ramen formula, but the broth is undoubtedly the soul of the bowl, there to unite the disparate tastes and textures at work in the dish. This is where a ramen chef makes his name. Broth can be made from an encyclopedia of flora and fauna: chicken, pork, fish, mushrooms, root vegetables, herbs, spices. Ramen broth isn't about nuance; it's about impact, which is why making most soup involves high heat, long cooking times, and giant heaps of chicken bones, pork bones, or both.
Tare is the flavor base that anchors each bowl, that special potion- usually just an ounce or two of concentrated liquid- that bends ramen into one camp or another. In Sapporo, tare is made with miso. In Tokyo, soy sauce takes the lead. At enterprising ramen joints, you'll find tare made with up to two dozen ingredients, an apothecary's stash of dried fish and fungus and esoteric add-ons. The objective of tare is essentially the core objective of Japanese food itself: to pack as much umami as possible into every bite.”
― Matt Goulding, Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture

“Irie serves me three ramens, including a bowl made with a rich dashi and head-on shrimp and another studded with spicy ground pork and wilted spinach and lashed with chili oil. Both are exceptionally delicious, sophisticated creations, but it's his interpretation of tonkotsu that leaves me muttering softly to myself. The noodles are firm and chewy, the roast pork is striped with soft deposits of warm fat, and the toppings- white curls of shredded spring onion, chewy strips of bamboo, a perfect square of toasted seaweed- are skillfully applied. Here it is the combination of tare, the culmination of years of careful tinkering, and broth, made from whole pig heads and knots of ginger, that defies the laws of tonkotsu: a soup with the savory, meaty intensity of a broth made from a thousand pigs that's light enough to leave you wanting more. And more. And more.”
― Matt Goulding, Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture

“It starts with a thwack, the sharp crack of hard plastic against a hot metal surface. When the ladle rolls over, it deposits a pale-yellow puddle of batter onto the griddle. A gentle sizzle, as the back of the ladle sparkles a mixture of eggs, flour, water, and milk across the silver surface. A crepe takes shape.
Next comes cabbage, chopped thin- but not too thin- and stacked six inches high, lightly packed so hot air can flow freely and wilt the mountain down to a molehill. Crowning the cabbage comes a flurry of tastes and textures: ivory bean sprouts, golden pebbles of fried tempura batter, a few shakes of salt, and, for an extra umami punch, a drift of dried bonito powder. Finally, three strips of streaky pork belly, just enough to umbrella the cabbage in fat, plus a bit more batter to hold the whole thing together. With two metal spatulas and a gentle rocking of the wrists, the mass is inverted. The pork fat melts on contact, and the cabbage shrinks in the steam trapped under the crepe.
Then things get serious. Thin wheat soba noodles, still dripping with hot water, hit the teppan, dancing like garden hoses across its hot surface, absorbing the heat of the griddle until they crisp into a bird's nest to house the cabbage and crepe. An egg with two orange yolks sizzles beside the soba, waiting for its place on top of this magnificent heap.
Everything comes together: cabbage and crepe at the base, bean sprouts and pork belly in the center, soba and fried egg parked on top, a geologic construction of carbs and crunch, protein and chew, all framed with the black and white of thickened Worcestershire and a zigzag of mayonnaise.
This is okonomiyaki, the second most famous thing that ever happened to Hiroshima.”
― Matt Goulding, Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture

“She handed me one of the finished mendiants. A fat black cherry made for the nose; a candied lemon slice for the mouth. She had made all her chocolates into little faces. Features added in gold leaf; almonds, raisins, poppy seeds. All of the chocolates different, all of them marked with her signature:
Love me. Feed me. Free me-
And all of the chocolates were smiling.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief

“There are four cheeses! It's a 'Quattro Formaggi' Pizza!"
"A 'Four-Cheese' Pizza? Well, duh. That's a standard pizza topping, even in Italy. There's nothing special or even unusual about that! So why the big reaction?!"
"Because the four cheeses were blended together and balanced with absolute perfection!
The deliciousness of most cheeses is rooted in their mellow richness and sharp saltiness. With those flavors as his baseline... he took four cheeses and balanced them so that their quirks and strengths play off each other brilliantly! That sharp, salty battle is a stark contrast to the thick sweetness of the shigureni beef- the gap between them creating a full-bodied and indescribably delicious flavor!
Then there's the texture contrast of the gooey cheese and the crisply fragrant crust..."
"And you can't forget the tingly bite of the black pepper sprinkled across the top. What a marvelous accent! All the various flavors blossom to their full potential inside the mouth, each making the salty cheese stand out more and more..."
We came out of the blocks with the bitterness of the artichokes...
then we jumped to the cynarine-boosted sweetness of the shigureni beef...
... and ended with a leap to a salty Quattro Formaggi Blend!”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 28 [Shokugeki no Souma 28]

“Takoyaki are octopus balls- not, thankfully, in the anatomical sense. They're a spherical cake with a chunk of boiled octopus in the center, cooked on a special griddle with hemispherical indentations. If you're familiar with the Danish pancakes called aebleskivers, you know what a takoyaki looks like; the pan is also similar.
Takoyaki are not unknown in the U.S., but I've only ever seen them made fresh at cultural festivals. Iris is a big fan, but I've always been more into the takoyaki aesthetic than the actual food. Takoyaki are always served in a paper or wooden boat and usually topped with mayonnaise, bonito flakes, shredded nori, and takoyaki sauce.”
― Matthew Amster-Burton, Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo

“Jake takes the warm pizza from the oven, spreads it with a wedge of softened, oozing Taleggio, scatters a few slices of apricot, some prosciutto, and a handful of the arugula over the top. He anoints it with olive oil and a squeeze of fresh lemon. The combination is one of my recipes, and it's been a seasonal favorite at the restaurant for years.”
― Meredith Mileti, Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses

“So I march into this pizzeria, and smell hot cheese and basil and oregano and garlic and onions and maybe pepperoni in the air, and notice some youngsters and loud cowboys eating pizzas and drinking beer at wooden tables, and start studying all the scrumptious pies in the display case in front of the big oven. There's one with sausage and mushrooms and three cheeses, and one with bacon and charred peppers and black olives and shrimp, and another with tiny meatballs and broccoli and whole garlic cloves, and one called the Super Deluxe, with everything but the kitchen stove.”
― James Villas, Hungry for Happiness

“All I can say is the bubbling pizza tasted as spectacular as it looked, and I didn't even fool with fixin' a salad to go with it. Since Sugar and Spice were begging and whining, I picked off a few pieces of sausage and pepperoni and tossed them to the dogs while I kept watching Emeril roll out and stretch some dough and trying not to think about Vernon and Sally and the way they'd deceived me. What I really wanted to do was scream at Emeril that his dough was too thick and more like the Chicago style than the crisp classic Neopolitan one I was eating. But, instead, I finished munching on the slice, and looked at the meatballs and pieces of bacon and golden mushrooms and shiny olives and onions nestled in all the melted cheese on the next slice, and started nibbling on that one. By now, Emeril was chopping herbs while he sautéed onions and garlic in olive oil, and when I wasn't concentrating on him, my thoughts shifted again to Vernon and Sally, and the humiliating stunt they'd pulled on me, and how I'd really like to take my gun and blow both their brains out. Then I wondered why in hell Emeril would dog up his pizza with so much tomato sauce, and Sugar was driving me crazy begging for more meat, and before I realized it, I was sinking my teeth into a third slice loaded mainly with red peppers and sausage that had a wonderful fennel taste and telling myself how much better this pizza was than the one Emeril was fixin'.”
― James Villas, Hungry for Happiness

“Using a newspaper, sugar packets, and animated hand motions, Callegari reenacts the creation of the Trapizzino, a pocket of crispy dough that eats like the love child of pizza and tramezzino, Italy's triangular sandwich. Skeptics might see in the Trapizzino the sad pizza cone found on food trucks in the United States and beyond, but this is no half-hearted gimmick: crispy and tender, light but resilient, it is an architectural marvel of pizza ingenuity. Not content with traditional pizza toppings, Callegari instead ladles slow-cooked stews of meat and vegetables- tongue in salsa verde, pollo alla cacciatora, artichokes and favas with mint and chili- that perform magnificently against the crunch and comfort of this warm pizza pocket. "The best of old Roman cooking is like great ethnic food- slow-cooked, humble ingredients with big flavor.”
― Matt Goulding, Pasta, Pane, Vino: Deep Travels Through Italy's Food Culture

“The pizzas keep coming: parmigiana di melanzane, planks of eggplant mixed with tomato and Parmesan, roasted in the wood-fired oven until dense and sticky with flavor, then used to crown a pillow-soft disc of dough; la pinsa conciata, a poetic union of pork lard and fig jam and an ancient goat cheese once on the brink of extinction; calzone con scarola riccia, a featherweight shell of blistered impasto stuffed with wilted escarole and anchovy and a tickle of dried chili.”
― Matt Goulding, Pasta, Pane, Vino: Deep Travels Through Italy's Food Culture

“On Saturday morning, he'd chosen his favorite place in Taipei to show me, Chung-shan Park. We wandered on a beautiful walking path around a lake with spraying fountains, surrounded by trees, and under the shadow of Taipei's iconic skyscraper, which was called Taipei 101. It was a great place for people-watching, with young couples on romantic walks, parents pushing babies in strollers, older people practicing tai chi, kids riding bikes, and nature lovers snapping photos of flowers. Best of all were the baobing- delicious shaved ices with a super-thin texture and condensed milk that added an extra sweet flavor. I topped my baobing with mango chunks, while Uncle Masa chose sweet potato chunks on his, an addition I never imagined could be delicious until I sampled his for myself.”
― Rachel Cohn, My Almost Flawless Tokyo Dream Life

“Isaac studied the huge, airy room and went to stand in front of a wall of watercolor apples- each one was set off by a colored background ranging from deep blue to fluorescent green to soft pink. He turned to ask Sanna about it, but she was still in the kitchen, pulling salt-crusted baked potatoes from the oven.
Bass kneeled on a bar stool and stirred sliced apples with cinnamon and sugar. On the counter were the fixings for a baked potato bar, with cheese, bacon, broccoli, sour cream, and minced chives.
"Are the apples above the fireplace meaningful?"
Einars bent lower to talk to Bass, as they layered the apples into a dish, forcing Sanna to answer the question.
"Those are all the apples we grow in our orchard."
There were at least thirty. He hadn't even known there were that many varieties of apple in the world.
"Did you paint them?"
"Some of them. Most were done by much older relatives.”
― Amy E. Reichert, The Simplicity of Cider

“The pastry came first. If cooks had their mother sauces, pastry chefs had their mother doughs, and p?te à choux was the grand dame among them. It was one of the first things she'd learned to make and still one of her favorites. There was magic in the way the dough went together, butter and flour and salt, cooked until the raw flavor of the flour disappeared, but not so much that it went dry and crumbly. Then four or five eggs got added one at a time until it transformed into a thick batter. It was traditional to beat it by hand, but Melody had learned long ago she got more consistent results with far less effort by using a stand mixer. Then she spooned the batter into a piping bag fitted with star tip and piped long, uniform lines of dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet.
As soon as those went into the oven, she began to concoct her flavors. A maple-and-vanilla crème that would be topped with a maple glaze and bacon bits. A lemon curd topped with toasted meringue, the filling for which was already prepared and jarred in her fridge from her lemon bar experiment earlier that week. A cardamom-scented custard paired with a br?léed sugar glaze.”
― Carla Laureano, Brunch at Bittersweet Café

“The first course arrives, a riff on bouillabaisse, with a deep-fried mussel-stuffed zucchini blossom, a small square of seared rockfish, a crouton topped with rouille, that garlicky red pepper-infused aioli that is the traditional topping, all in a small puddle of saffron-infused fish broth. And we are off to the races.”
― Stacey Ballis, Out to Lunch

“I fell in love with a North African flatbread," he says of the m'smen baked at Hot Bread Kitchen, a thriving bakery incubator in East Harlem. "It lit our imaginations up." The savory, hand-stretched bread is like a blank canvas, one that Michael and his kitchen crew top in countless ways, from clam, celery root, and salsa verde to corn, green tomatoes, and lamb sausage to pickled peppers and mushrooms.”
― Amy Thomas, Brooklyn in Love: A Delicious Memoir of Food, Family, and Finding Yourself

“Steaming meat slides in our direction, Lucas leading it onto a plate before glancing up at the ticket. He reaches for his belt, covering the meat in some orange sauce and then using his gloved hands to load it with toppings from the trays in front of us. There's cilantro, onions, lime wedges, corn salsa, avocados, and chili peppers. Ten different kinds of salsa, all marked with different colored tape that read either PUSSIES, NI?OS, BADASS MOFOS, or LOCO. I assume they're heat indexes, and Lucas tells me to fill some plastic cups with a few milds, I reach for the salsa marked PUSSIES.
"Whoa, careful." Lucas points to a bottle out of sight.
I pull it to the front and it reads GABACHOS.
"Pen..." Lucas taps the salsa I reached for first. "Took offense to the labels. Now Pussies is the hottest salsa we have.”
― Laekan Zea Kemp, Somewhere Between Bitter and Sweet

“ Ask your lover what flavor of topping is preferred; there are endless possibilities. Peach and fresh ginger. Mixed berry. Apple, cinnamon, clove. Cardamom and pear. Lemon plum. ”
― Jennifer Gold, The Ingredients of Us

“For the meeting, I'd laid out a wide variety of fillings and sauces on the table, with the sauces in my antique chafing dishes to stay warm. And it was true---there was a lot of food. I'd provided prosciutto, roasted red peppers, toasted walnuts, fig preserves, and a cheese sauce made with fontina. The savory ingredients were intended for the brown-butter buckwheat crepes.
For dessert, I'd provided sweet crepes made with my grandmother's recipe. Antique china bowls containing Nutella, sweetened mascarpone, lemon curd, and sliced fresh fruit fought for space on the table.
The crepe I was most proud of, though, was my stracciatella crepe. In a nod to the gelato flavor, I'd attacked the chocolate bar with my trusty Microplane zester and incorporated it as a last ingredient in my chilled crepe batter.”
― Hillary Manton Lodge, A Table by the Window

“I made American pancakes this morning. Would you like some? I am about to serve the first batch to my guests."
"I can make some for us," I said, taking in the batter, the greased griddle, and the bowl of apricots. "You can go and fuss over the guests."
"Ah, bien," she answered, loading a platter full of beautiful apricot-studded pancakes to take away. "Bon, I pour the batter and place the slices over the top just so. They're very moist because of the crème fra?che, and then I serve them with a crème anglaise."
"It looks great," I said, taking the ladle in hand and stirring the batter, just to get a feel for the consistency. "Don't worry about us."
Sandrine grinned her thanks, and I turned my attention to breakfast.
"I can do that, if you want to sit," Neil offered.
I waved him away. "I can make pancakes in my sleep."
"I liked that she called them 'American pancakes'."
"Well, they are. French pancakes are crepes, and German pancakes are a whole other deal altogether." I ladled four puddles of batter onto the griddle, enjoying the sizzling sound they made as batter met butter. "English pancakes are closer to crepes, just thicker."
"Reminds me of when I was in Toronto for a conference. I tried to order a Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza but got tongue-tied."
I laughed and began to arrange the apricots. "What did you do?"
"I said 'Hawaiian' instead. The guy seemed to know what I was talking about."
"Quick thinking."
"Thank you."
"In truth, between the crème fra?che and the crème anglaise topping, I think these pancakes are a bit more trans-Atlantic than American."
"I'll take your word for it.”
― Hillary Manton Lodge, Reservations for Two

“Lying on the ground, the instrument looks like a Venn diagram for toppings that belong on a pizza versus pineapple, two big separate circles. He lifts the whole thing up, minding the ceiling, sticks his head through the pineapple portion, and straightens the pizza portion to be a little flatter to the front.”
― Patrick R.F. Blakley, Drummond: Learning to find himself in the music

“Lenore's galettes, one savory with a filling of fresh summer tomatoes and basil and one sweet with caramelized peaches, were tender and flaky and buttery and perfect. Maz's nargesi, an egg and spinach dish similar to shakshuka, burst with flavor on the tongue, especially when eaten beside the fresh watermelon and soft cheese salad he'd brought. They'd catered in bagels from the local bagel place, and whatever empty boasts New York City made about its food, they were right in that they had the best bagels anywhere. Especially when heaped with lox and cream cheese and capers and red onions sliced so paper-thin light shone pink through them.”
― Amanda Elliot, Sadie on a Plate

“Teddy goes to the kitchen and comes back with a plate of snack toast for her, which is something they used to make when they were younger---toast spread with mayo, topped with crumbled bacon and chopped onion, sprinkled with Lawry's seasoned salt and Swiss cheese and placed under the broiler until it's melted and crispy. It is one of the most delicious things Jane has ever eaten.”
― Jennifer Close, Marrying the Ketchups

“Hmm... the noodles are good. I can taste the flour; their scent and flavor are clear, not masked by the smell of kansui.
Ah, this is good broth. You used only chicken to make it.
You did well with the condiments, too. You cannot get such a rich flavor unless you use condiments made from pure ingredients.
And I see you used Chinese vinegar.
Hmm. This barbecued pork is well made. It's Kurobuta from the Kagoshima prefecture that has been fed properly on sweet potatoes.
The cucumber was organically grown, without pesticides or even herbicides.
This egg is impressive too. Only a chicken that has been properly grass-fed in a healthy environment can lay an egg this good.”
― Tetsu Kariya, Ramen and Gyoza

“There was a bottleneck up ahead at the boulangerie. A wrought-iron cart, a more elegant version of the pretzel vendors' on the streets of New York, was posted outside. In addition to croissants and pains au chocolat, it was loaded with flattish ovals of yeasted bread. Some were covered with grated Gruyère cheese and bacon, some with a tangle of caramelized onions and anchovies. The script on the chalkboard sign said Fougasse, which I took to be a type of local focaccia. I leaned toward one topped with toasted walnuts, pungent with the smell of recently melted Roquefort cheese.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“He detected a faint hint of tonkatsu in the broth, but the base was definitely chicken rather than pig bones. The broth wasn't quite transparent, but it was a great deal clearer than the turbid liquid that usually accompanied ramen these days. It seemed quite possible there was some kind of fish stock in there too. A garlicky, gingery aroma rose from the bowl.
The noodles were the thin, straight type, and cooked slightly on the firm side. On top of them lay two slices of roast pork and another two of kamaboko fish cake. These were accompanied by bean sprouts, pickled bamboo shoots, and negi onion.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“We set up shop on a nearby bench, me starting with the savory order--- trout roe; sour cream; pickled radish--- and him with the sweet one--- spicy apple chutney; honey; whipped cream. The second savory order, with smoked salmon and dill and cucumber, we balanced between us, because I couldn't limit us to only two options after all. And really, when it came to fried potatoes, the more the merrier.
Especially these, because they were excellent: lacy and crisp, with crunchy edges and soft, pillowy centers.”
― Amanda Elliot, Love You a Latke

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