Mikimotos

Remember last week when I wrote about my visit to Mantra, and I said that there were better cheesecake spring rolls out there? Well, that place is surprisingly in Wilmington at Mikimotos, a sushi restaurant and bar. I say surprisingly because even though I live in Wilmington Monday through Friday, I’m always at a loss of where to eat and what to do in “the city that closes at 5 p.m..”

Mikimotos (not to be confused with the infamous Morimoto in Philly) sits on a block in downtown Wilmington with two other restaurants right next to it: Washington Street Ale House and Presto. All three of these restaurants are owned by the same person – Darius Mansoory. It’s a little block of Mansoory-land. Besides the fact that all three of these places serve up semi-decent food, I stop into Mansoory’s places because, at a five minute’s walk distance they are the closest restaurants to my house in Wilmington.

When I first moved to Wilmington and asked around about what there is to do in the city, Mikimotos was one of the first things that popped out of people’s mouths. I think this is because Mikimotos is a popular bar and meeting place for younger professionals (khaki attack!), and it’s open after 5 (!!!). Large pictures of comic heroes and anime grace the walls as dance music pumps out of speakers. Mikimotos is not quiet dining.

I stop into Mikimotos about twice a year, mainly because it's close by. The vegetarian sushi is your standard fare – cucumber roll, avocado roll, and vegetable tempura roll. They also have a vegetarian handroll assortment, but when I ordered this in the past they filled it with the usual suspects: cucumber, avocado, and carrots. The creativity of the veggie sushi at Mikimotos has never impressed me.

This last time, I ordered the best veggie sushi from the menu – tempura vegetable roll – and asked for one of the more creative fish rolls - salmon, avocado, sweet onion, and mayonnaise – without the fish. It’s no secret that I love mayonnaise, but this is a match made in heaven. I don’t’ know why I’ve never had sushi with mayonnaise before? In the future, I’d like a little dish of mayonnaise beside my little dish of soy sauce.

Now, back to that cheesecake spring roll. Apparently every server at a restaurant that serves cheesecake spring rolls is going to highly recommend ordering them. This time, the server was right on. My partner, who normally takes just a bite or two of my desserts so I can gorge on the rest, had trouble stopping. He ate nearly half of my dessert! Thankfully, I was in a good mood, so didn’t stab him with my fork.

The oreo cheesecake spring rolls sprinkled with sugar were hot, and the oreo cheesecake insides were gooey and melty. The caramel dipping sauce was just the icing on the cheese cake. When I eat cheesecake, this is how I want to eat it.

Even though the vegetarian sushi at Mikimotos is uninspired, I’ve never had anything bad at Mikimotos. Besides the usual veggie offerings at sushi bars – edamame, vegetable tempura, veggie rolls, miso soup, and various salads – Mikimoto’s has a couple of tofu dishes on the menu, and a few dishes that can be modified and have tofu added. If only they would put the tempeh dish from a few years ago back on the menu, I might brave the sea of khaki more often.

Mikimotos 1212 Washington St., Wilmington, DE, 19801 302-656-8638 Mon.-Thurs., 11a.m.-11p.m.; Fri., 11a.m.-12a.m.; Sat., 11:30a.m.-12a.m.; Sun., 4p.m.-10a.m.

Basil Ice Cream With Chocolate Chunks

Never before have I made more ice cream in my life than I did this summer. It's all because I found a steal of a deal on a Cuisinart ice cream machine at a garage sale earlier this spring. I cannot speak highly enough about this little machine. If you’re still using a machine (electric or hand crank) that requires rock salt and bags of ice, you’re either someone's grandma or insane.

I posted a handful of the yummier ice cream varieties I made, and then put a stop to the ice cream posts to spare you from boredom, and a stop to the ice cream making (for the most part) to spare me the pounds.

I have to get one last post in (no promises). How could I not? I made this ice cream four times this summer!

This ice cream is basil ice cream with dark chocolate chunks. For now, basil ice cream has surpassed green tea as my favorite ice cream flavor. That’s saying a lot. Last year I was hoarding green tea ice cream from Trader Joe’s so that no one else could have any.

The sweet cream is the blank canvas for the sublimely herbal flavor (like a bag of weed cut with basil), and the dark chocolate chips playfully distract with a bitter crunch. The first bite is the one that hits hard, as tasters unknowing of the ingredients try to figure out just what flavor the ice cream is. It’s good. You know you like it. You can’t stop. What is it? It’s the best ice cream flavor... ever!

FYI, don’t try this with yogurt. I did, and it’s not good. I’m convinced that homemade frozen yogurt’s tang can only stand up to fruit flavors.

Basil Ice Cream With Chocolate Chunks
Adapted from this recipe over at Apartment Therapy

1 pint heavy whipping cream
1 can evaporated milk (Use any percentage regular milk if you like. I just can’t use a whole carton of milk before it goes bad, so use canned milk.)
1/2 cup sugar
2 big handfuls of basil leaves, coarsely chopped
3 egg yolks
3/4 cup dark chocolate, finely chopped

• Put cream, milk, sugar, and basil into a sauce pan, and scald over medium-high heat. Remove from heat and let sit for 20-30 minutes to cool a bit and infuse the cream with the basil.
• Strain cream to remove the basil.
• Beat the eggs in a separate bowl, then slowly temper half of the mixture into the eggs, stirring constantly.
• Add the egg/cream mixture and the other half of the cream mixture together in a pan over medium heat. Stir constantly for 5 minutes. (The mixture will not thicken much, but that’s because I didn’t use 6 or 7 egg yolks. Don’t worry; the end result will be rich and creamy.)
• Let cool, and add to the ice cream maker. Towards the end of churning add the chocolate.
• Store in a container in the freezer overnight for the best texture before serving.

La Michoacana Ice Cream

Ice cream has got to be one of the best food inventions – creamy, smooth, sweet, and just what you want on a hot day. Those hot days are gone, and even the pleasantly mild days are numbered. Oh, who am I kidding waxing poetic about the bygone days of ice cream eating? I eat ice cream in the winter – just not while outside.

I snuck in a visit to La Michoacana, the tiny Mexican ice cream shop in downtown Kennett Square, this past weekend while on the most convoluted route (errands love weekends) from Wilmington, DE to Radnor, PA.

I was hoping to get my new found love, the paleta, but when the cucumber and chile paleta I had my heart set on was not available, I was switched to ice cream in a cup – a scoop of avocado and a scoop of mamey. Mamey, a tropical fruit tasting like peach and apricots, was a first for me –pink and fruity!

Besides having all sorts of exotic and traditional ice cream and water ice flavors in frozen bar form or in a cup, La Michoacana’s ice cream is very reasonable. When the cashier asked for $3 for two small cups of ice cream (two scoops each), I thought for sure she had only seen the one cup I was holding. $1.50 for ice cream!! I scream!

La Michoacana Ice Cream, 231 E. State St. Kennett Square, PA 19348
610-444-2996

Mantra

She's crafty.

Update: no longer open.

Restaurant Week came and went, except, unlike the past, I actually made a reservation. I hate, hate, hate making reservations – something about commitment and lack of spontaneity. For $30 you get a three course meal, excluding gratuity and drinks (that’s where they get you) at participating restaurants.

Besides being on your toes and making a reservation in advance, vegetarians have to wade through all the menus of participating restaurants to see if there’s anything we can eat. (May I suggest a "V" next to restaurants with vegetarian options.) Sure, I could call and request something special, but I try not to be a pain in the ass, especially during what is a busy event for these restaurants. After sifting through all the menus, I came up with maybe ten restaurants that had a vegetarian appetizer and entrée.

In doing research of menus, it turns out that eating a vegetarian three course meal at restaurants participating in Restaurant Week any other week of the year will cost you about $30 anyway, and many times less than $30. After this revelation, I almost said,”Fuck it,” but in the spirit of participation, I, well, participated.

The field was further narrowed when I tried to make a reservation for Sunday at a reasonable hour (before 10 p.m., and before I turn into a starving pumpkin). Actually, the field was narrowed down to Mantra, as it was the only place from my list of ten restaurants that had an open slot.

It’s easy to miss Mantra, a restaurant that dubs itself as an Asian soul food bar, even though it’s just a block north of Rittenhouse Square. Walk in the door and you can’t miss the hypnotic, glowing orange bar. Mantra’s site describes their ambiance as “exotic and cosmopolitan” and “Japanese teahouse with upscale Rittenhouse Square.” The bar and some of the large mosaic mirrors could be described as cosmopolitan, but the glass beads glued to the windows, walls, and banister, and the electrical plates serving as candle holders screwed to the windows scream craft project – but in an endearing way. Someone does need to tell them that the stenciled Chinese characters on the chair railing (at least upstairs where I was sitting) are upside down. Stupid Americans!

My appetizer was the Long Life Green Salad with scallion dumplings. Now, I assumed this appetizer was vegetarian, since they included a very obvious vegetarian entrée (Vegetarian Bento Box), and the other appetizers were obviously not vegetarian. I’ve been assuming a lot lately, and it’s been getting me into trouble. The dumplings contained chicken, or some other gray meat. I pushed these to the side, and ate the yummy, ginger and soy sauce dressed pile of greens and vegetables. This salad was huge, and definitely would have been dragged through the mud on Top Chef for presentation.

The Vegetarian Bento Box was also huge. The lo mein was finished first on my plate, but tasted like any lo mein found at a Chinese joint, except maybe not quite as greasy. The Indian biryani tasted of curry powder from a jar (blech), but the sweet chutney-filled Indian bread on top of the rice was delicious. The fried tofu was as bland as tofu straight from the container, and the few drops of sriracha sauce it came with were not enough to assist in flavor. The sautéed greens tasted fine, but I swear mine had something gritty in it. My partner, who ordered the same thing, swore his had too much pepper. We switched plates, and neither of us agreed to the other’s findings. I guess we’re both crazy.

From the bento box, I ate the greens, the lo mein, and the Indian bread. I left the tofu and the biryani. The bento box at Mantra was like eating at a buffet – lots of choices, some good and some bad, but you’re full in the end.Poor lighting = poor pics. I've gotta start going out to eat for lunch.

For dessert, I went with the very friendly server’s suggestion of the cheesecake spring roll with strawberry sauce – or was it raspberry? I see this dessert on menus all the time at Asian restaurants, but have never ordered one. I said, “What the hey,” and went for it. If you like cheesecake and fried dough, this dessert is for you. The cheesecake was cool, perhaps due to our wait for dessert, which the server sincerely apologized for. I felt like the cheesecake was a little heavy, and maybe this was due to it being cold. After having my second cheesecake spring roll at a different restaurant almost exactly a week later, I will say that there are better cheesecake spring rolls out there than the one served at Mantra.

The service at Mantra was friendly. The wait between courses could have been perceived as long, but, for once, I was not in a hurry and appreciated not being forced with a new plate of food before finishing what was already in front of me.

The food at Mantra is nothing extraordinary, and it will not blow your mind, but there was something endearing about Mantra – maybe the inventive use of electrical plates, or the upside down Chinese characters. I walked away really not wanting to dis Mantra. She felt like a crafty sister that I don’t have trying to make it in the big city. I’d definitely go hang out in front of the glowing orange bar and have a drink and an appetizer, but not a full meal. The quality of the food at Mantra just doesn’t warrant the upscale prices.

By the way, while the Restaurant Week menu omitted this tidbit, the real menu says they’ll substitute any protein with firm tofu.

Mantra, 122 South 18th Street, Philadelphia, PA, 19103
215-988-1211
Lunch: Tues.-Thurs., 11:30- 3; Fri. & Sat. 11:30-5
Dinner: Mon.-Wed., 5-11; Thurs.5-11; Fri. & Sat. 5-1a.m.

Persian Layered Seitan Polo

Last week I made Spanish paella, and this week I made Persian polo. I’m on a one-dish rice kick it seems, which suits me just fine as a single diner. No one to impress with multiple courses, I can curl up with one bowl by myself.

Polo is an Iranian rice dish traditionally including cinnamon, turmeric, other aromatic spices, and dried fruits. Meat is optional, but fish, chicken and lamb are the most common proteins. Variations of polo have made it to other regions and have been renamed. In India, you’ll find “pulao” on menus, in Morocco, “pilaf”, and in Spain, the distant relative “paella.” I'm guessing that the Southern "purloo" stems from these dishes, as well.

I stumbled upon a recipe for Persian polo searching randomly through cookbooks for dinner. I don’t think I’ve ever had a rice dish with the name polo attached to it. I’ve certainly have had pulao, pilaf, paella, and purloo, so I knew sort of what I was in store for. This dish surpassed my expectations with the meaty seitan really rounding out the dish into a meal, the prunes and apricots bursting with sweetness, and the cinnamon and onions leaving my house smelling like Thanksgiving dinner.

Persian Layered Seitan Polo
Adapted from a recipe in The Essential Rice Cookbook
Serves 4

1/2 stick butter or margarine
1 onion, finely chopped
20 ounces seitan, cut into chunks
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
salt and pepper
1/2 cup pitted prunes, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup dried apricots, coarsely chopped
2 cups spinach, blanched
2 cups basmati or long grain rice

• In a large saucepan, melt 1/4 stick of butter over medium heat. Add onion and cook for 5 minutes. Add seitan, turmeric, cinnamon, salt and pepper to taste, prunes, and apricots, then pour in enough water to cover the seitan. Cover and simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally. Let the seitan stew simmer while preparing the rice.
• Meanwhile, in a medium pot, bring 3 3/4 cups of water with remaining 1/4 stick of butter and pinch of salt to a boil. Add 2 cups of rice. Return to a boil, cover, turn heat to low and simmer for 10-15 minutes. Then turn off burner, keeping lid on, and steam for another 5-10 minutes, or until rice is tender.
• In a large, heavy-based casserole dish or pan with a lid, spread half of the rice over the bottom of the dish, top with spinach, then stewed seitan, and finally the remaining rice. If the rice is dry add a few tablespoons of water. Cover with the lid and steam over low heat for 20 minutes, or until the rice is tender and has absorbed some of the juices from the stewed seitan.

Monk's Cafe

Beer. I hate beer. I’ll drink anything else alcoholic – except a Bloody Mary, because tomato soup should be eaten from a bowl with a spoon. So, how did I end up at Monk's Cafe, a Belgian gastropub in Center City that prides itself on its extensive beer list?

In short, I was hungry and turning into a monster, so ducked into the first place I saw that had something on the menu I could eat. Without a snack or a little nibble every three hours, I become irritable and emotional - even to the point of crying. So, into Monk’s we go.

Stepping into the dark, dirty (more on that later) bar atmosphere of Monks on a beautiful, sunny afternoon for lunch just didn’t feel right. Maybe if I were an alcoholic that spent my days recuperating and recharging in the low light of bars, Monk’s would have felt like a warm, friendly blanket. Or maybe if it were cold and overcast outside, so the transition would have been less drastic. No matter, I was just happy to be minutes away from eating.

Seated in the nook across from the bar, we look at the paper drink menus on the table, only these paper menus look like they’d been trampled on the floor at a concert. These drink menus were dirty waaay beyond a few splatters of beer. Should I touch this? Does Monk’s not have the money to go to Kinkos?

On the food menu (not nearly as dirty, but still in need of replacement) they’ve got your standard vegetarian pub offerings: basic salad, French fries, portabella sandwich, and a veggie burger. They’ve also got a vegan burger, a vegan tempeh sandwich, and vegan portabella “lasagna.” It was these last items on the menu that got me in the door, not because I necessarily wanted to order them, but I thought that since these items were present, Monk’s at least aims to please vegetarians and vegans.

Hmm…veggie burger or portabella burger? I rarely (ha) see these on menus, so was torn. I went with the veggie burger. Monks has lots of paired toppings to choose for your burgers, though. Do I want the Abbot with Boursin and sprouts, the Antwerp with Sottocenare truffle cheese and shitake mushrooms, or one of the other seven (not all vegetarian) specialty burgers?

I went for the Monk’s veggie burger with caramelized leeks and blue cheese. Sounds good, right? Imagine hot, sweet, caramelized onions and tangy blue cheese on the top a warm burger – kinda like this visual here.

I was fully expecting the flat, perfectly round veggie burger you get from the freezer section, so there was no surprise there. I didn’t expect a burned veggie burger – it’s not meat, you barely have to heat the thing. I also wasn’t expecting cold leeks that looked like someone pressed firmly onto the burger, and tasted like, well, nothing. That blob of blue cheese was insulting. I drenched my burger in the spicy sauce that came with the fries to add flavor that the leeks and blue cheese should have contributed, but didn’t. The bun was good, but they get those from a local bakery.

My partner ordered the vegan tempeh sandwich on whole wheat bread. The sliced sandwich bread could not stand up to the heft of the smoky tempeh, tomatoes, and few leaves of lettuce. The sandwich had to be secured by two hands pinching all sides to keep the contents from falling out, and the bread from flopping. This sandwich needed a heftier bread. As one who takes a sandwich to work almost everyday, I don’t ever care to see sliced bread when dining out, and would have asked for a substitution, but…this was not my sandwich.

The side of Belgian fries was limp and greasy. Aren’t Belgian fries supposed to be crisp because they’ve been fried twice? Also, every single fry was no longer than an inch or so, and many were mere nubbins. These fries were only suitable for drunks who didn’t care what greasy carb they threw down their gullet – with a fork, off course, because they were too tiny to hold.

After our dissapointing meal, I was at least filled with food and back to my normal self. I was able to focus on other things than filling my belly, so turned my focus to the interior of Monk’s. The small windows beside me were covered in torn plastic, and the window sills were covered in dust. The walls were splashed with all sorts of food and there were twelve or so gnats perched on the wall about three feet above our table. I expect dirty walls and general filth at concert halls and dive bars, but Monk’s serves food! Ick.

Monk’s cares enough to get us vegetarians and vegans in the door, and oblige us with something to gnaw on, but they don’t care to actually give us something of any worth. I will only be back to Monk’s if I’m dragged there by beer-drinking friends, and then only to drink. There are much cleaner Belgian gastropubs in Philly that serve better veggie food. And, please, hire a cleaning crew, and send someone to Kinkos.

Monk's Cafe, 264 S. 16th St., Philadelphia, PA, 19102
215-545-7005
Mon.-Sat., 11:30 a.m. - 1 p.m.; Sun. brunch, 11 a.m. - 5 p.m; Sun. dinner, 5 p.m. - 1 a.m.

Peeved About Basil

The plant that prompted this post.

I have my fair share of pet peeves – people who spit in public, wet sponges left in sinks, your dog's huge balls that should have been chopped off, cops that don’t use turn signals…the list truly go on and on.

I would like to take the time now to prevent future sighs and eye rolling at one of my pet peeves that is somewhat of culinary concern – improperly harvested basil! Trivial? Yes, but…

This post was prompted by a severely stripped basil plant sitting outside a Philly coffee shop that will remain unnamed. I wouldn’t have noticed the plant – ok, I would have – if not for an employee that came out to harvest some of the last few leaves remaining on the plant to construct their mozzarella, tomato, and basil sandwiches.

I engaged the employee in conversation, all the while hoping the conversation would lead to why the plant looked so poor. I could have just blurted out why the plant had almost no leaves, and I often do blurt out what is on my mind without thinking of tact, but I didn’t want to seem like a crass know-it-all. Pleasant guy, but he didn't seem concerned about the plant.

My opportunity to right this basil wrong escaped me. But that’s why I have a blog; I can blurt out anything I like here.

Don't do this.

So, here’s how to properly harvest basil and stop me from going ka-ra-zee...

When pinching basil leaves, don’t pinch off individual leaves, or grab a hunk and indiscriminately pull. If you do this, you will strip the plant of leaves without encouraging new growth. To harvest basil and encourage new growth, pinch the stem right above a set of leaves. You want to harvest the tips of the stems, not individual leaves.

And it's not just Joe Schmo who grabs and pulls, I know people who maintain beautiful gardens, yet terrorize their basil plants.

I have no computer graphics skills.

• Plants put on new growth from buds at the tips or tops of the plant. These buds are apical buds, and have apical dominance. These buds will always be dominant, and be the place of new growth, unless...
  

• If the apical bud is cut, pinched, or damaged, plants can also put on new growth from axillary buds at the base of leaves. These axillary buds stay dormant until the apical bud is cut, pinched, or damaged. (This is the basis of all pruning.)
  

• By pinching basil right above the node (leaf and axillary bud), you have removed the dominant apical (top) bud, and sent a message to the plant to push new growth from the axillary bud.

• Wrong Way - Pinch directly underneath a node or in the middle of the internode (stem between the leaves and buds), and the plant does not get as strong of a message that the axillary bud should kick into growth. This is the scenario that happens when you just grab and pull.

• Right Way - Pinch or cut basil directly above the node to encourage new growth. Once substantial new growth develops, pinch (harvest) the new tips to encourage further growth and branching. If you continue this, you will have a rounder, fuller plant...that actually has leaves on it!

See the pinched stem and the baby leaves at the top starting to get larger?

As the plant continues to grow, the once baby leaves and stems grow in size. What once was a dormant bud is now a large stem with leaves (out of the picture) all along it.