Ital Soba is located within a short walk from the Higashi-Kitazawa stop at the Odakyu line. It takes a transfer from the convenient Tokyo JR line, but trust, me, it’s worth it. Because of my initial confusion with maps in Japan (they’re oriented relative to what direction you’re looking in, not north/south/east/west like I was used to) I had to step into a veteranarian’s office to ask directions. A nice man who was waiting accompanied me out and actually walked me to the location. Talk about friendly, helpful locals!

The restaurant itself is tiny and hard to spot if you don’t notice the small Bob Marley card taped to one wall. Owner Koichi Nakajima was just setting up shop, so Will and I thanked the man who walked us there and entered. The interior contained a small bar overlooking the house-sized kitchen and three or four two-seater tables.

With my broken Japanese, we managed to order soba in cold broth for Will and a zaru soba for me. Everything is made to order there, so we got to watch the master at work. There was no rushing this soba. Nakajima first whet our appetites with a plate full of vegetables which were beautiful in their simplicity. Grilled slices of lotus root, sliced burdock root, a seaweed salad, some macerated adzuki beans, the appetizer set atmosphere of the noodles to come.

When the soba came, we were instructed to pick a dipping cup from a drying rack sitting on a stool in the corner. The cups came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. Being able to personally choose one added to the comfortable, home-like atmosphere of the restaurant.

As expected, the soba was cooked perfectly, meticulously, and still retained a nice chew. The dipping sauce, enhanced by the grated radish and freshly grated wasabi, coated each strand of noodle sufficiently without being too salty. Zaru-soba is a simple dish, but it’s exactly that simplicity that shows how much care and attention Nakajima puts into preparing everything that exits the kitchen.

The soba in cold broth was also prepared well, with tissue paper-thin pieces of seaweed lending a welcome umami taste to the broth. Since everything on the menu is vegan, Will slurped up the bowl with confidence that there was on hidden flake of bonito anywhere.

After my bowl of soba, I sat back with a satisfied expression on my face and Nakajima timidly asked if I’d like to try some of his coffee, made from Cuban beans. Coffee out of soba sounded like a strange combination, but if he could make a coffee as artfully as he did a bowl of noodles, count me in. He asked me if I wanted something sour, or had more bitter in it and I chose bitter. It wasn’t until I took a sip of the coffee that I realized I misheard him and he meant ‘butter.’

Like the noodles, great care was put into preparing the coffee. Nakajima delicately held the top of the chemex filter over a mug as he slowly poured a steady stream of boiling water onto the grounds. It took a few minutes, but the brew that I sipped blew my socks off. It had a strong, rich aroma and tasted incredibly smooth, without any hint of astringency or acridness. I always complain that brewed coffee never tasted as good as it smelled, but I think this came damn close.

Even though it was a difficult to find, a bowl of noodles (or two in Will’s case), a fantastic cup of coffee, and getting to watch a master at work, is definitely worth visiting Ital Soba in my books.

Ital Soba (cash only)
4-32-26 Kitazawa, Setagaya-ku;
(03) 3485-7785
open for lunch and dinner (closed Tues. and the 3rd Mon. of the month)

A week later, we made sure it wasn’t sushi night and tried again.  I tempered my expectations a little, telling myself that there’s just no way a non-meat version of ramen could compare to the broth at Daikokuya, a stone’s throw away, so I shouldn’t even think about the comparison.  I would think about vegan ramen as a completely different species as regular ramen.

I ordered the sesame ramen, which from the description on their menu, made me think it was Shojin’s attempt at a milky, rich broth.  Unfortunately, the richness came from soymilk and tahini. The broth just didn’t have the same mouthfeel as a slow-simmered pork broth, but that wasn’t the soup’s only short-coming.  That would be reserved for the overwhelming flavor of tahini.  I had expected a slight nutty taste like that of sesame oil, but the broth tasted just like watered down tahini with a bit of bitterness.

Will ordered a more traditional ramen, which I believe was the spicy miso ramen.  It was a Japanese level of spicy (not spicy at all) but the broth was a great deal better than mine.  The miso lent the broth the much-needed umami flavor. The broth wasn’t too shabby for a vegan ramen broth.

Although Shojin didn’t make the ramen noodles from scratch, I was glad that they cooked them well. The noodles were chewy, plentiful, and managed not to get too soggy.  The vegetables (mainly kale) were a great addition too.  What was blatantly missing from our bowl though, were the pickled slices of bamboo which often comes with ramen.  I don’t think there was anything un-vegan about pickled bamboo. I was sorry to see it missing. Our bowls also came with a few slices of seitan ‘cha-siu’ which I could have done without.  The texture was good, but the slices weren’t seasoned well at all.

Shojin’s ramen isn’t going to be luring any omnivores through its doors, but considering they’re the only place I know of that serves actual vegan ramen, it’s worth going for the vegetable-inclined.

Shojin
333 South Alameda Street
Los Angeles, CA 90013-1735
(213) 617-0305

Last night, I wanted to make a “What White People Eat” dinner: mac and cheese, greens, and a cob of corn.  Unfortunately, it turned out that the almond milk I was going to use had been in the fridge too long and was getting moldy (grosssss!) and the greens I bought were actually mustard greens and not kale as I had thought.

Some quick thinking and a carton of veggie broth saved the meal.  I used broth instead of almond milk for the fake cheese sauce in the vegan mac and cheese (recipe here). I realized too late that we also had no more tahini, but leaving it out completely didn’t seem to alter the flavor too much.

I sauteed the greens with white onion, garlic, chile pepper flakes, salt, sugar, and about a tablespoon of lemon juice. The greens turned the onion a strange purple color but they tasted fine.

I also learned that you could microwave corn on the cob last night! It’s faster than boiling and doesn’t taste all watery afterward either. Brilliant!

The restaurant itself is nicely decorated and just stinks of money, but luckily not in a tacky way. There are glassed walls decorated by rocks strung on wire, beaded partitions, and dim lighting. While we were doing research on vegetarian restaurants in the area, we read that this place is frequented by celebrities but alas, we didn’t recognize any.

Yu Shan Ge serves food influenced by Japanese cuisine which is evident in the meticulous presentation of each dish and the little speech that our waitress gave before setting down the food. Everything we ate had some florid, touchy-feely, spiritual story behind it. While it’s typically a turn off for me, I was surprised that most of the food was tasty enough for me to overlook the over-the-top presentation.

The first thing the waitress brought us was this dish of water with rose petals and a lemon slice floating on top. I was immediately reminded of the story of the boorish American who thought the finger washing dish was some sort of cold soup.  It felt strange rinsing my hands in this bowl of cold water while the waitress smiled and looked on, but at least my hands were clean.

Because Will doesn’t eat dairy or eggs, we had to ask them if they could modify the already vegetarian menu to his restrictions. Luckily, the waitress seemed happy to accommodate.

The first dish we were presented was a cold appetizer plate of vegetarian sushi and salad.  The bite-sized piece of fake salmon was actually some sort of agar preparation. It didn’t have the same texture as real salmon, but tasted good nonetheless.  The custardy tofu on a cracker was also nice.

One of the soups we had that night really stood out because of its mouthfeel.  The broth was rich, thick, and coated my mouth the way a slow-simmered pork broth would.  I think it was a vegetarian rendition of shark fin soup and it was one of the best I’d ever had.

We also had a taro root porridge type dish which was presented in such a thoughtful way.  It was brought out to us on a straw mat with an orchid plant on the side and some rocks.  Even though we were sitting in a dark restaurant, it was cute that the chef wanted to bring a little nature to his dishes.

The only letdown of the dish came in the form of what I assumed was the main course. I think it was supposed to be a vegetarian play on steak and gravy and it certainly looked nice, but the taste just wasn’t good. The texture of the steak, which I think was made of chopped mushroom was actually decent, if not a little weird at how accurately they mimicked the fibrous texture of real steak. What broke the dish was the sauce. It was too peppery, sweet, and sour. It made me think of gravy made out of Chinese spices, which might have been what it actually was.

No Chinese meal would be complete without rice, and this meal was no exception. Unfortunately, by the time the savory, sticky rice came out, I was beyond stuffed. I could barely manage to finish half my bowl of rice.

Dessert was a good breather. I was dreading that it would be something really sweet and filling like a pastry, but then that would go against the restaurant’s whole message. Instead, we were brought out some cut up fruits and a bowl of sweet soup filled with white woodear mushrooms, dates, and papaya. It was sweet, but just the perfect amount of sweet.

Yu Shan Ge is certainly not priced as a casual place to stop by and eat, but it is worth going there at least once for the experience. Their mini-speeches before each dish is a little hokey for me, but it’s worth sitting through just for the food.

Yu Shan Ge
14, Bei Ping Dong Rd (at Shandao Temple MRT)
tel: 02-2394-5155

Snow cabbage with edamame and baked tofu, bamboo with baked tofu, and a vegetarian version of the ground meat thing (mushrooms, pickled vegetables, tofu) that seems to be in a lot of cafeteria type plates.

Will’s co-worker gifted us with a bunch of green garlic from his garden. What a great guy!

Will made an omelette out of them the first night.

I made a simple topping out of chopped green garlic, portabella mushrooms, a dash of red pepper flakes, some salt, a squeeze of lemon, and pepper to taste.  I used a cup of pasta water to make it have more of a sauce consistency and then tossed it with some thin spaghetti.

I came across this recipe for sweet and spicy tempeh and passed it on to the BF. He liked it so much that he made it twice! I was always neutral about tempeh, but then I had this dish and now I love it! The funky armpit smell that fills the kitchen when the tempeh is being fried is mouthwatering. The sweet and spicy sauce with shallots and chili pepper is addictive. The tempeh is filling. What’s not to like about this?

First, the tempeh is shallow-fried.  I don’t know what it is about the frying, but it makes the fermented smell of tempeh waft through the whole house. It may not be pleasant if you’re not a fan of the savory armpit smell, but I relish a bit of pungency in the air around dinnertime.

After the tempeh is all fried and it’s time to do the sauce, be liberal with the peppers, shallots, and garlic.  They’re so good in this when they’re covered in the sweet, sticky sauce.

Something about this dish reminds me of Chinese American fast food, but in a good way.

Potstickers and dumplings are some of my favorite things to eat. They’re more of a pain to make for a weekday dinner, but if you make a big batch of them, you can freeze them easily.

The filling ingredients:

• baby bok choy (I used about 12-20)
• 3 squares of baked tofu
• 4 dried shiitake mushrooms that have been reconstituted so that they’re tender
• 1/4 cup Chinese pickled vegetable (zha cai)
• 1 tsp grated ginger
• 1 tsp toasted sesame oil
• 3 scallions (just the top part)

Rinse the baby bok choy really well because sometimes there’s a lot of grit.  Drain and put them in a microwavable bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap.  Put it into the microwave and cook on high for about 3-4 minutes, until they’re wilted and tender.  Leave it in the bowl covered with plastic for a few minutes to steam. Alternatively, you can steam them on the stove top till tender, or boil them, but the microwave is the fastest.

While the bok choy is cooking, cut the 3 squares of baked tofu into chunks the size of your thumb and throw into a food processor with the rest of the filling ingredients. Pulse and process until the filling is chopped, but not mush. Remove and set aside. If no food processor is available, you can do it by hand by chopping everything finely.

Pull the bok choy out, drain and squeeze to release most of the liquid. You don’t want the filling to be watery. Put the drained bok choy into the food processor and pulse until chopped finely.

Combine the chopped bok choy with the rest of the ingredients and add salt to taste.

Place about a tablespoon of the filling on the wrapper and wrap it however you like.  I need to do a better video of my dumpling wrapping, but here’s an animated gif version.

Frying method:

Put a flat bottomed pan with a cover (I used our cast iron one) onto medium-low heat and put in enough oil to coat the entire bottom. It doesn’t have to be deep-frying high, but every part of the bottom of the pan should have oil on it.  Gently place the dumplings into the pan, flat side to the bottom. You can crowd them so that they’re touching, but don’t press them against each other.

Once all the dumplings are in the pan, pour in 1/4 cup of water and cover immediately. This steams the top and inside of the dumpling.  Keep covered for about 7 minutes, and then check.  The tops of the dumplings should look cooked, and not floury or white.  If not, cover for a minute more. If the water’s already evaporated, add a few tablespoons more and cover.

When the tops of the dumplings look done, take the cover off. If the water’s all gone, and the bottom of the dumpling are browned, they’re ready to be removed from the pan and served. If not, let them sit on the heat for longer.  Once they’re sufficiently browned, they should release from the pan easily.

Steaming method:

Line a steamer with napa cabbage.  I used kale because that’s all I had in the fridge.  Place the dumplings in the steamer, cover, and steam for 20 minutes.

The dip:

Peel ginger and cut into tiny slivers.  Top with black vinegar.

Braised tofu sheets, bittermelon and scrambled eggs, and stir fried bok choy. I think this is the first time the BF attempted to make 3 dishes for one meal.

The next night, I made vegetarian pot-stickers. Because I didn’t make the wrapper from scratch, this actually didn’t take that long. The only time consuming thing is wrapping the dumplings, but with two people, one package of wrappers goes by fairly quickly.

We wanted to take a break from eating too much greasy and savory stuff, so the BF made porridge one night. The porridge is about 1:9 rice to water. So that it’s not so plain, he topped it with chopped onions and shiitake mushrooms sauteed together. We also had some tea eggs in the fridge, so we threw that in there too.

I was at work late and wanted to cook something quick and easy, which is why I decided on broccoli stir fry on my last night of cooking. Maybe broccoli beef is more Chinese American food, but it was still good. For the sauce, I used soy sauce, rice wine, water, garlic, and some potato starch to thicken.

It turns out that curry isn’t that hard to make from scratch! Well, kind of from scratch, if you have the ready-made powder.  All it takes is sauteing some chopped onions in oil, adding the curry powder, some tomato paste, and then the right amount of flour to make the roux.  Some vegetable broth, potatoes, carrots, and random things in the fridge later, I had curry.

One of the random things I put in the curry were wheat gluten puffs from the Chinese market. They’re these big puffed up balls of airy bread. I cut them in half, put them in the curry and mushed them around so they soften. When they’re properly cooked and soften, they soak up the curry sauce and have palatable, smooth and tender texture. It may sound gross, but it reminded me of a tender piece of bacon fat. Delicious.