07.11.08
Asuka, a haiku in Japanese cuisine.
After spending most of the morning and early part of the afternoon reading poetry on the poets org forum, and reading the documentation to learn about how the software that makes this blog possible works, I realized that I had forgotten to defrost some meat to cook on the grill for dinner. I don’t like to use the microwave because it tends to partially cook the meat. By this time it was 4:30. I had remembered putting aside a few restaurant coupons from a recent junk mailing I received last week. I went through the coupons, and after discussing the options with my partner, Daniel, we settled on the Asuka Japanese Restaurant in Blue Bell, PA, a relatively new business for the property it occupies. It sits about a quarter mile down the road from the produce stand for O & F Farms from Worcester, which I mentioned two days ago. This site has been home to several different unsuccessful restaurants over the past ten years or so, with the building often sitting vacant for months at a time between establishments.
The drive to Asuka took about ten minutes, and when we arrived, we were seated immediately in an exceptionally appointed Japanese dining room devoid of any other patrons. The dining room was quiet, a pleasant change from the noisy atmosphere of so many American chain restaurants. There was a sushi bar staffed by what I believe was the sushi chef and his sous-chef. Our waiter was Tim, a college student studying information technology with a concentration in security. Tim’s attention to detail, soft voice, and humble manor only added to the unhurried atmosphere which was a precursor to what was to be a most pleasant dining experience.
We ordered a bottle of chilled plum wine to start. For an appetizer, I ordered negimaki, broiled sliced rib eye wrapped with scallions in teriyaki sauce, and my entree was salmon teriyaki that included a house salad with ginger dressing, vegetables, and rice. Daniel ordered as an appetizer, seaweed salad; an entree of unadon, broiled freshwater eel on a bed of rice served with oshikno, which are pickled vegetables; miso soup; and a salmon hand roll with no wasabi from the sushi bar, which was not on the menu.
I had never sampled plum wine, but Daniel told me it was syrupy sweet but very good if served cold. To my delight, it was on the dry side, with a wonderful bouquet and delicate on the palate. I will include plum wine with any Japanese meal I order in the future if it is available.
I am always leery of small portion sizes whenever I dine in a Japanese restaurant. I don’t know why this is, because, with very few exceptions, I leave the restaurant sated. Asuka was in no way a disappointment. My salad was fresh, crisp, and delicious. I wish I knew how they made their dressing, because I scooped as much of it up as I possibly could with the lettuce and other vegetables. Had there been bread on the table, as is found is so many American restaurants, I would have cleaned the bowl. I was momentarily tempted to use my finger to scoop the remaining dressing, but thought better of this in such a fine establishment. When Tim brought my salad, I asked him for a fork. Without blinking an eye, Tim humbly apologized for not anticipating my need and returned quickly with a fork and steak knife rolled in a white linen napkin. I am quite skilled at eating with chopsticks to the point of being able to pick up single grains of rice with them, but I have yet to master eating a lettuce based salad with them. I can only hope that my request was not seen as an insult to the chef or staff of Asuka. If it was I humbly apologize.
While we waited for our appetizers, I had the opportunity to observe the sushi chef prepare Daniel’s Salmon hand role. You would have thought the chef was performing surgery, that is how intense his attention to the preparation was. I have always enjoyed the opportunity to observe a master at his craft, no matter what that craft may be. Be it carpenter, painter, mechanic, or chef, it is immediately obvious when one is in the presence of excellence. This gentleman was a true embodiment of that word.
The timing of the arrival of our appetizers was perfectly orchestrated to the moment I finished my salad. I must say that my negimaki was like nothing I have ever eaten before. There were seven pieces, perfectly portioned. The scallions were wrapped within the rib eye, that was so thinly sliced it was hard to believe that it held together. With each chew, I experienced a burst of savory and sweet with an infusion of subtle scallion as the vegetables crunched between my teeth. The flavors built layer upon layer. I wish I had a more discerning palate so that I would be able to tell you the different herbs and spices that were used. You’ll just have to take my word for it that it was exceptional. Between bites of the negimaki were a palate cleanser of tender white radish shaved into long filaments presented in a tower. How this creation managed to stand escapes me. There was also a simply stated side garnish of a single maraschino cherry. The contrast between the red and white was elegant and very pleasing to the eye.
Daniel allowed me to try his seaweed salad which is something I always enjoy. It was also delicious and again the complex layers of flavor were quite evident. I would have liked to taste a little of everything that was on the menu, with the exception of sushi or sashimi, as I don’t eat any animal raw, but time and budgetary constraints prevented this.
Once again, Tim timed the arrival of our entrees perfectly. My salmon was served on a hot iron platter cradled in a wooden base. The aroma was sensational. Aside of the salmon were steamed asparagus, carrots, and broccoli, perfectly cooked to tender crisp. The rice was served on the side in a bowl and was sprinkled with black sesame seeds. The salmon was crisp on the under surface and succulently tender on top, and the sauce was again an experience in subtle complexity. The rice was perfectly sticky and came apart in portions with ease, but stayed together well enough to be eaten with chopsticks.
Daniel’s entree was served in an ornate bento box. The eel was nestled on a bed of perfectly cooked rice and along one side rested the pickled vegetables of vibrant yellow, green, and purple hues consisting of daicon radish cucumber, and beets. I do not eat eel, so I cannot comment on it, but from Daniel’s response, his meal was as wonderful as my own.
I had been thinking of a dessert I have enjoyed in Chinese restaurants, fried bananas, which consists of banana pieces quickly folded into molten caramelized sugar then immediately immersed in iced water. The sugar coating can be heard to crackle as it quickly cools. The banana is warm and slightly soft and the sugar coating is crisp but very thin. I mentioned this and described the dessert to Tim. He asked if he could check with the chef to see if it could be duplicated. Daniel ordered a dish of mochi, a Japanese rice cake made of glutinous rice, molded into the shape of crescent moons that contained vanilla ice cream wrapped around a smaller portion of red bean paste, garnished with slivered strawberries and whipped heavy cream. Before I knew it, Tim returned with an elegant plate of tempura-fried banana sprinkled with confectioners’ sugar and fresh whipped cream on the side, all drizzled with chocolate sauce. There was a delicate garnish of a carved lemon wedge on the plate that resembled a dragon head. The presentation was lovely. Tim was quick to state that the chef prepared the dish so that I could see the Japanese version of my request, and wanted to offer it to me as a compliment. I was floored. It was too beautiful to disturb with a fork. I sensed a subtle anxiety to please me in Tim, which would be impossible to detect had he been a typical American waiter. I felt duty-bound to sample the delicate creation, as I did not wish to offend the chef or Tim. Again, I was not disappointed. Though the taste and consistency was very different from the Chinese version, it was exceptional, and before I knew it I had consumed the entire plate.
Daniel enjoyed his dessert as much as I did but said the only part of the presentation that wasn’t to his liking was that it was served in a sundae dish. He felt the dish fragile and was afraid he might break it. Perhaps this was because the crescents had to warm a little before they could be managed with a spoon. I myself do not enjoy red bean anything, so I must rely on his discerning palate on this one. I thought the presentation was elegant.
At the completion of the meal, Tim asked if we would like anything else, but we were both comfortably sated so I asked for the check, insisting to pay for my dessert. When Tim returned with the check he told me he could not charge me for my dessert on the instructions of the chef. We were both extremely impressed by the meal and the entire experience and reflected our pleasure in the gratuity.
Suffice it to say, this was a meal I will long remember and the standard to which I will compare all future Japanese cuisine, and Tim will remain the standard to which I will compare all wait staff as well until a time when his service and attention is exceeded. I don’t think that will occur any time soon.
I am so glad I forgot to defrost the steak.
As we left, I noticed there were no other patrons present at that time, and I can only hope that this sparsity was as a result of the early hour. I would hate to think that this exceptional dining experience would be lost to the members of the community because of lack of discovery or disinterest. It is truly one of the finest meals I have had in many, many years, and far exceeds what is offered by so many of the local representatives of national chain restaurants or long standing restaurants in the area.
Connected to Asuka is Gaya Korean Restaurant, its sister, owned by the same company, Han Ghang, LLC. There were several tables occupied by patrons there. I can’t wait to return and experience the same level of exceptional service while exploring a whole new cuisine.
O.P.W.