OK. Enough already. I'm done with this white stuff.
I've baked enough oatmeal cookies to lower the cholesterol of every fat, lazy, self-important legislator in New Jersey AND Pennsylvania. I've made ednough soup and chili to float and fart myself into oblivion. Really. I'm still not tired of making pizza with my kids, or reading to them all morning and afternoon, snuggled under blankets on the couch in the den, as we like to do.
But c'mon now. Enough is enough. I give in , Mother/Father/Uncle/Cousin/Crotchety Old Neighbor Nature. You win. Now gimme back my driveway.
I was then quickly served a "Japanese Caesar salad", simple romaine lettuce dotted with flecks of anchovies and whole toasted walnuts, lightly dressed with an emulsion of olive oil, sesame paste, lemon, soy and parmesan, with additional feathery shavings of cheese floating on top. A nice, tart-nutty wake-up for the tastebuds. This was just one of eight salads on the ambitious menu; others included a tofu and tomato salad; a "Japanese potato salad"; chilled edamame dusted with Kosher salt; octopus salad; wild seaweed in a sweet dressing; and a whole grain salad of black and brown rices, quinoa, millet, vegatables and a basil coulis.
But about the takoyaki. Taken literally, it means "pan-fried octopus," and it is a popular street food in Japan, a fried dumpling studded (usually) with red pickled ginger, scallion and bits of baby octopus. At Maru Global, the bite-size crepe balls, sans octopus, are cooked in an authentic takoyaki pan, which looks like a cast iron egg carton, and they form the base medium for a broad spectrum of variations, from octopus and shrimp to chicken, sirloin, spicy shrimp, even BBQ, cheesesteak and cornbread versions. Chef Ryo served up a small cardboard boat of "original" dumplings stuffed with shrimp to start. They were delicate, greaseless balls, dusted with bright green dried seaweed, drizzled with a sweet ponzu sauce, and topped with small ribbons of dried bonito, a bit of a jumble to look at. Eaten with a toothpick, the airy orbs exploded in my mouth: ginger, onion, shrimp and steam, a sensational, sensual experience. I swooned, and was served a couple more. The salty seaweed, the smoky, bacony bonito, the sweet-spicy ponzu, what a riot of flavors, almost too much to process. I can't say that I've ever tried anything like this in any food setting. What a strangely seductive snack.
Craving more, I was then offered a small bowl of Gomoku Gohan--Five Things Rice--seasoned rice swirled with steamed seasonal veggies. Carrot, onion, zucchini, peppers and diakon were tucked into my rice bowl, and it proved to calm my dazzled palate, but just for a little while. I wanted more takoyaki.
