Easy Bake Sushi

Sushi, though truly timeless and everlasting, isn’t typically thought of as a wintry dish. It’s a common misconception that it’s a dish best served cold, but unlike revenge, it’s still better with slightly warm, not chilled, rice. Regardless, when the thermometer outside is tracking single digits and warmer, heartier fare is top of mind, sushi doesn’t exactly make the cut. Perhaps, we’ve just been thinking of the wrong kind of sushi.

Hot Dish, Hot Off the Presses

Originally pitched as a “sushi casserole” roughly 15 years go, the concept really got hot when it was rebranded as a “sushi bake” during the height of the COVID19 pandemic. In the era of feta pasta and dalgona coffee, it fit right into the conversation about accessible global cuisine, comfort food, and culinary escapes. Familiar yet novel, easy adaptable to suit any available ingredients; looking back on it now, it made perfect sense. What I don’t understand is why it seems to have disappeared just as quickly.

Sushi for the People

Consider the sushi bake as sushi with training wheels, both for the cook and eater. No patience for hand-shaping individual rectangles of rice? Zero skill for rolling with sheets of nori? Throw everything in a pan and call it a day! Those of the most voracious appetites can finally satisfy the urge to eat an entire family platter of nigiri without being seen as gluttonous, and everyone can walk away from the table fulfilled. Especially during the colder months of the year, I can’t imagine a better way indulge in homemade sushi.

Layered with seasoned sushi rice, umami furikake, surprisingly convincing spicy crab made from shredded tofu, and a battery of crisp cucumbers, buttery avocado, and lashings of more savory sauces, it’s the complete package in every bite. You could easily double it and bake it off in an 8 x 8-inch pan for the whole family, or even quadruple it with a 9 x 13-inch pan for a genuine sushi party.

Serves You Right

Served warm, straight from the oven, a sushi bake is meant to be spooned, scooped, and shared with abandon. A brief rest on the counter allows the layers to settle into a more sliceable strata, but it should still arrive at the table hot, the rice plush and fragrant beneath its generous toppings. Set out stacks of toasted nori sheets or seaweed snacks and let everyone build their own bites, folding heaping spoonfuls into crisp wrappers that crackle against the creamy filling. It’s informal and tactile in a way traditional sushi rarely allows, encouraging seconds, and thirds, without ceremony or apology.

While I wouldn’t reheat it once topped, any leftover sushi bake is still just as delicious the next day, served cold. After winter relinquishes its grip and cooler cravings return, perhaps it can be a summertime staple, too.

Continue reading “Easy Bake Sushi” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)Leave a comment

Ramen Revelry in Austin, Texas

Few dishes inspire such fanatic fervor as ramen. Combining noodles with soup is hardly revolutionary, and yet the Japanese specialty is the only example I can think of that has driven people to upend their entire lives on a quest to find and eat the best, or the pursuit of making their own, seemingly at the drop of a hat. Ramen made sense to unadventurous Americans long before “sushi” ever entered into everyday vernacular, captivating eaters from all walks of life. Everyone seems to share the same memories of eating ramen in their broke college days, still carrying a place for the dried noodles in their hearts well into adulthood.

Ramen continues to seduce diners across the world, only gaining in popularity year over year. Now, there are so many places to get not only passable, but excellent ramen that considering a comprehensive roundup became a truly daunting task. Even when you narrow down the criteria to Austin restaurants with vegan options, you may be surprised at the breadth and depth of unique variations you’ll find. Ranging from traditional to wildly creative fusion, thin noodles to thick, wholesome to downright decadent, the question isn’t, “do you want ramen for dinner?” but, “what kind of ramen do you want for dinner?”

What Came First, the Noodles or the Broth?

Trying to untangle which component is more important to making the best ramen is truly a fool’s errand. With such a simple composition, both carry equal weight. So, what makes the best ramen? It’s the combination of both, working in harmony together, neither one outshining the other. Toppings are interchangeable, spice is a matter of personal preference, but noodles and broth are indisputable.

  • Noodles: Ramen noodles are distinctive from other forms of pasta thanks to the inclusion of kansui, an alkaline solution that imparts a distinctive springy, chewy texture. The strands can range from angel hair-thin to udon-like in thickness, they can be round, flat, or squared off at the edges, they can be long or short, but no matter what, they must have that characteristic bite. Rarely, and not traditionally, egg may be included in more American-style noodles, so it’s wise to always double-check before ordering.
  • Broth: Traditionally made by simmering bones, aromatics, and seasonings for hours to extract deep umami and richness, this layered, savory foundation completely transforms the flavor of each bowlful. Classic styles include shio (salt-based, light and clear), shoyu (soy sauce-based), miso (fermented soybean paste for a hearty, earthy taste), tonkotsu (pork bone broth, creamy and rich), and paitan (same as tonkotsu, but with chicken). This is the biggest stumbling block for non-vegan restaurants, who often swap it with wan vegetable stock, lacking the depth and punch that the genuine article is known for. Kombu or wakame (seaweed), shiitake mushrooms, miso paste, soy sauce, roasted vegetables, and sometimes nuts or seeds can be used instead to draw out plant-based umami that’s every bit as compelling.

The Best Vegan Ramen in Austin

When I set out to find the best renditions of this beloved Japanese staple, I knew I had a task and a half ahead of me. Finding so many options scattered across the full length of the city is great problem to have. You’re never too far from your next great bowlful. Here’s my cheat sheet and personal assessment to help guide your ramen cravings.

Continue reading “Ramen Revelry in Austin, Texas” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)10 Comments

Kreplach with Chutzpah

Pronounced with enough force, kreplach sounds like a Yiddish curse at best, and an old man hacking up a lung at worst. Say it with your chest and really draw out the “ach” to hear what I mean, and possibly scare your neighbors while you’re at it. Resolutely the stuff of Old World sustenance, they’ve slowly faded into obscurity, overtaken by myriad adjacent dishes.

Some take offense to the comparisons, indignant that such a righteous and deeply meaningful food could be lumped into the same category as most generic frozen meals, but let’s be real: they are like Jewish wontons, pierogi, ravioli, manti, pelmeni, or just about any other dumpling that springs to mind first. Take a thin sheet of flour dough, wrap it around a basic filling of chicken, potatoes, mushrooms, or beef, simmer it in soup or pan-fry, and you have your holy kreplach.

Stuffed With Meaning

Symbolism is almost as important as flavor when you talk about the history of kreplach. Reserved for special occasions, they’re most likely to reemerge for Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Purim. In accordance with the former two holidays, the filling is sealed, just as our fates are said to be sealed in the book of life, or possibly shielded from judgment. Purim, viewed by some as a Jewish version of Halloween, is where things get more interesting.

Triangulated Trials

Just as Esther concealed her identity, and children today don costumes and disguises, the filling is hidden between the thin layers of dough. On this day, kreplach are folded into triangles, mirroring the shape of hamantaschen which also mimic the three cornered hat worn by Haman. They’re little pockets of joy made from the most humble stuff, finding beauty in the commonplace, the mundane, the everyday. It’s the time and labor that make them truly special.

Labor of Love

To that end, yes, you could make shortcut kreplach by using wonton skins instead of homemade dough, but that rather defeats the purpose to me. You might as well buy any old ready-made dumplings at that point. The dough, rolled out thinly, has a more distinctive bite, more resistance and weight, which can’t be replicated by anything other than the genuine article. Traditional renditions are egg-heavy, though that’s nothing a little aquafaba can’t fix. Feel free to prep this well in advance, since it can keep for up to a week in the fridge. It’s easy, not quick.

Souped or Sautéed

When I think of kreplach, I think of gleaming little triangles swimming languidly through light, golden broth, intermingled with a few coins of tender carrots. They can also be served dry, pan-fried, often laced with caramelized onions. If you were to take the potato stuffing route, you know how well that works for pierogi; I’d be sorely tempted to serve them with a side of vegan sour cream to complete the picture.

Today’s Kreplach Legacy

Don’t let kreplach die out. Yes, there are plenty of close cousins hailing from Europe and Asia alike. Perhaps no one would even realize if they make an Irish exit. My favorite foods, however, come with stories. Tradition, intention, and symbolism have branded kreplach as their own unique, wholly irreplaceable entry to the culinary canon of all dough-swaddled savory morsels. There’s never been a better time to try a taste of history than the present day.

Continue reading “Kreplach with Chutzpah” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)3 Comments

Mumbo Gumbo

No matter what I have to say about gumbo, I’m going to be wrong. This isn’t just my continuous threads of self-doubt pulling my words into misshapen, unsteady forms, but a genuine fact. I did not grow up with gumbo coursing through my veins, learning its ways from my elders, steeped in time-honored traditions. I never had to before going vegan, impossibly picky eater that I was, unswayed by the heavy mix of chicken, sausage, and shrimp. My Yankee roots cultivated no appreciation or basic awareness for the art of gumbo, only a vague impression of it as something thick, dark, and intimidatingly meaty, best left to esteemed bayou-born experts.

What is Gumbo?

Like a game of culinary telephone, my knowledge comes only from stories and photos, books and movies. All that I can say with conviction is that it starts with a roux. That, and the “Holy Trinity” of onions, celery, bell peppers, AKA Creole mirepoix. Blending the traditional foodways of Africa, France, Spain, and Native Americans alike, what you do next depends on your heritage. Some may reach for okra or filé powder for additional thickening capacity, some go straight for the proteins and load it up with everything from seafood to sausage, while still others simply hammer in the spices as if they were trying to kindle an edible inferno. The most succinct explanation for gumbo is that it’s a thick stew; choose your own adventure.

Don’t Fumble the Gumbo!

With that tenuous understanding, I proceeded to make a mockery of this beloved staple. Not intentionally, mind you, but I have a feeling that anyone hailing from New Orleans wouldn’t even glance in the direction of this Frankenstein melting pot. Using vegan sausage is probably the least controversial part of it, and that’s saying something. Swapping olive oil for butter in the roux could very well get me run out of town.

Still, I kept stirring. Once you start making a roux, you have to fully commit, whether or not you know exactly what you’re doing. The color deepens slowly, then more decisively, taking on a toasted, nutty smell that’s even more encouraging than the hue. By the time the broth was in and bubbling away, all the initially disparate pieces seemed to fit together. I don’t expect this version to resonate with anyone who was raised on the real thing, and that’s okay. Ending up with something comforting, hearty, and richly spiced is only part of the goal; paying homage to a dish that holds more history than I can speak for fills me up in a much more meaningful, lasting way.

Continue reading “Mumbo Gumbo” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)7 Comments