E't At

It’s slick. It’s expensive. It’s loud. It’s good!

First the menu. The nigiri sushi is ordered by the piece. That means that I could get the uni (sea urchin) and Erik could get the (saba) mackerel. My uni was the perfect balance of sweet, salty and musky. Erik’s saba was the freshest he’s had in Seattle. Since the sushi is ordered by the piece, I figured we’d get our own plates. We did not. Sigh.

The room is full of high contrasts: the noises, smells, temperatures and colors are perfect for those who can’t sit still and like to shout. It isn’t a place that I would take the hard of hearing. We were lucky enough to get a table by the kitchen and though I had to watch the kitchen staff scowl their way through the dinner rush, it was a sanctuary away from the door and the clamor of the dining room. The kitchen is markedly clean.

If you have a choice, sit at the sushi bar. That’s where the beauty of Ototo shines. The chefs were professional and engaging and everyone at the bar looked like they wanted to stay there. There was no turn around at the bar for the hour that we were there.

We ate:
Sake (salmon): firm flesh and not as fatty as Saito’s.
Maguro (tuna): Fresh and slightly tart.
Unagi: There are other places that do a better Unagi.
Saba (Mackerel): Erik loved it.
Uni: I loved it.
Kani (crab): Fine. In truth fresh crab shines on its own without rice and seaweed.
Oshinko Roll (Pickled Radish): Enjoyable.

Natto Roll (fermented soybean): Now here is where Erik went green and I started bouncing in my seat. The Natto was chopped up and viscous. This texture along with the smoky maple musk of the fermented soybean sent Erik into gag mode. It isn’t an easy thing to eat.

Miso: excellent and balanced.
Sake: two masu of the good stuff and then a house bottle.
Agedashi: well worth the 6 dollars.

In the end, the thing cost us a little more than what we spent at Blue C but with a much more satisfactory meal. Next stop: Chiso.

Where the mediocre fish go to die. Yet, the place is perfect in so many ways. It is well designed, well run, has a nice approachable sake list, service works, you never wait for food. Blue C is the perfect place for a wasabi lover as it sits right there in front of you on the table and no one is going to be offended if you slather it on your food.

It is, in true American fashion, a place to eat. If you see the tempura vegetables get placed on the belt GRAB THEM.

Was it worth 57.01 plus the 10 buck tip? We shall see.

We ordered:
Maguro (tuna): ACK, ACK, ACK- this is why there is a vat of wasabi on the table. A truly sketchy thing to put in your mouth.

Sake (salmon): Aw Man! That was not cool.

Tako: He felt it was a little over-blanched. Erik had this, I don’t eat octopus for reasons I won’t go into here.

Spicy Tuna Roll: Excellent. Every flavor was exactly what you want from a spicy tuna roll.

Spider Roll: eh.

Seared Tuna: A tuna in Cajun spice rub.

Unagi: Good. Not GREAT, but really rather good.

Tempura vegetables: Excellent. I don’t believe I have had better in years.

Gomae- spinach and sesame paste: Perfectly done spinach! Good sauce!

Two bottles of Sho Chi Ku Bai Organic Sake.

A note on the rice: I have read that a sushi chef’s first four years of training are spent on rice alone. The rice is as important as the fish. Blue C makes their rice with a little too much water and cooks it a little too long. The seasoning is a little subtle for some, but I suggest getting a second bottle of sake.

Oh, and don’t take photos of the plates or the belt, they really don’t like that.

The refrigerator was suffering from miscellaneous malaise. Little bits of meat, a half can of tomatoes, corners of cheese and a near empty tin of anchovies.

All things that are perfect for personal pizzas.

First the dough:

3.5 cups of flour
one package of dry active yeast
2 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
1 ¾ cup water (warm)
1 egg roughed up (not beaten, but warned)

Mix the dry ingredients.
Add the water slowly and stir with a spoon until you can’t.
Knead dough for five minutes.
The dough should be a nice, smooth ball.
Crack an egg over the dough and slather.
Let sit in the refrigerator for 16 hours

Or let it rise in a warm spot for an hour and a half.

Preheat the oven to 500º.

Place your pizza stone or cast iron skillet in the oven to get hot.

Or set out a cookie sheet, sprinkle it with cornmeal. Don’t put the cookie sheet in the oven.

Dust a work surface with a handful of flour
If you have a pizza peel, sprinkle it with cornmeal or polenta.

Make small balls of dough (the size of a handball but no bigger than a tennis ball)

Roll the dough out into a circle.

Baste dough with a coat of olive oil.

Top.

We made a pickled pepper and cheddar cheese pizza, an anchovy and caper pizza and a potato, pear and blue cheese pizza.



Stick pizzas in the oven and bake for about 7 minutes.

Wrangling the small pizzas in and out of the oven is tricky without the cornmeal to act like little wheels.

Thaiku has a contrived bar of Chinese schlock. It is unnecessary and outdated décor that inspires the occasional sneer. It tries too hard.

The place is ultimately bearable 5-7 pm on weekdays. The happy hour menu is relaxed to four dollars a plate. Deep fried tofu, spring rolls, and the shrimp skewers are 4 bucks a plate. Cocktails are 5. Order the drinks before you eat and hopefully you’ll sober up by the end of the meal.

If you are going to eat at Chen’s Village, you should have at least three of the following qualities:
a. You are drunk
b. You are trying to be sick
c. You don’t want to like the Chinese
d. You need to experience primal grief
e. There’s a small demon in your handbag that requires a meal of pure evil
f. Gastrointestinal S&M turns you on
g. You’ve never tasted goo but would like to
h. Chen’s was the alternative to a prison sentence

Bad Chinese restaurants run in my family. My grandmother owned a restaurant in upstate New York called The Coral Sea. Every time we went, my father insisted on going back to the kitchen and cooking our meal. The restaurant was THAT bad.

Chen’s Village reminded me of Coral Sea only without the benefit of the chain smoking Chinese guys hanging out at the round table in the corner and the free meal. There were children running around the restaurant who, possibly, belonged to some people in the bar.

I have to say, I love Chen’s Village for what it represents: salt of the earth bad food.

Chen’s makes rice like they hate China.
The hot and sour soup was made with water and a dehydrated mix–not a touch of broth.
The Moo shu pork pancakes were over-frozen and torn.

I hear that their duck is excellent, but I am confused how that might be possible.

That said, if you go to Chen’s for something else, like booze, the place is a treasure.
Get drunk and make reservations: (206) 281-8838
544 Elliott Ave W
Seattle, WA 98119