Two dinners, one night: Ototo Den and Sushi Den

Ototo Den is the newest of a set of long-established Denver restaurants that also includes Izakaya Den, a self-described "sake house with tapas," and Sushi Den, one of the city's most popular sushi restaurants, all of which I'd been hearing about for a while. It so happened that I was in town the week that the three restaurants were pledging to donate a portion of their dinner sales toward Japan relief efforts, and it seemed like a good time to finally give the place a try.

ES had heard that Ototo Den was offering ramen, and as the night was chilly we drove to Pearl Street especially eager for big, steamy bowls of noodles and soup. Unfortunately, when we sat down and opened up the menu there was no such bowl to be found. A query to the server revealed that the restaurant had decided to revise their offerings and decided ramen didn't fit in. He suggested that we have some snacks at Ototo Den while happy hour was still on, and then walk across the street to Sushi Den, where ramen was still being prepared. Ototo Den has a great happy hour list, with both food and drink at a good discount, and I was totally fine with that plan.

We ordered a number of small plates, not knowing exactly how much food we would end up with, but figuring that we couldn't get that full just off of appetizers. The foie gras terrine came out first, drizzled with marinated beetroot cubes and microgreens and accompanied by grilled triangles of chewy bread. For five bucks this was an ample amount, and the sweetness of the beets set off the rich creaminess of the duck liver beautifully.

Roasted sunchokes with aioli were wonderful too, the preparation bringing out the tuber's gentle sweetness and lightly crunchy texture, not quite potato and not quite water chestnut. A coating of garlic and parsley finished the dish, and the aioli was a nice touch.

We'd ordered all of the three skewers that were on the happy hour menu, and they came out at once. I didn't get to try the oyster skewer, but the single bite of panko-crusted calamari I had was tender and perfectly fried. I liked the charred shishito peppers and fat shiitake mushrooms too—each bite was earthy, intensely smoky, almost bitter.

The last thing we'd ordered was the country pate, which came out with more grilled bread and accompaniments of grainy mustard, greens, and cornichons. You can't really tell in this photo, but this was a fairly large slab—maybe a few centimeters thick and a little bigger than the size of a playing card deck. This is definitely a hearty appetizer, especially at the same price as the foie gras terrine.

Both of us were getting full at this point, but we'd had our hearts set on ramen all along, and so even after all that food somehow it wasn't a question that we would still head over to Sushi Den. Though there was a busy crowd that night, we were seated at the sushi bar after only about twenty minutes. Hot hand towels and water were set down before us, as well as little bowls of a refreshing cucumber and squid salad.

But wait! There was udon on the menu, but again, no sign of ramen. We flagged down a server and once more made an inquiry, and his reply? To try Ototo Den, "because they're still serving it." ES and I shook our heads and, with sadness, filled in our server on the situation.

No matter. Since we were already sitting we figured there were other intriguing items to try, including the Dynamite, which ES checked off on the sushi bar menu immediately, explaining that he orders this appetizer every time. Shrimp, button mushrooms, and tiny scallops blanketed in a thick, creamy layer of broiled mayonnaise—sure, what's not to love? The richness of the dish made eating too much of it at once a little bit sickening, but it was nonetheless a trashily delicious indulgence.

The meat in the Kobe Beef Roll, paired with lettuce, asparagus, mayo, and a sprinkling of shichimi, was thinly sliced, marinated in a sweet soy-based sauce, and tasted exactly like Korean bulgogi. While it was good, it really wasn't all that special—the beef could have been any beef, and the roll was hastily constructed and already unraveling when it reached us.

Better was the Tuna Firecracker Roll, filled with tuna, avocado, and cucumber and paved with wasabi tobiko, and then topped with cilantro, shallots, and slices of raw jalapeno. Normally I'm not a fan of fusion-y Japanese food like this, but something about the flavors really worked, with the jalapeno adding freshness, crunch, and heat. I admired the rice, too, which was perfectly done—each warm grain flavorful and distinct but also melding together with the ingredients to create a tasty mouthful.

By now we'd eaten so much food I was about to burst, but nonetheless out came the "new style" salmon roll, where the raw fish had been quickly passed through hot oil seasoned with ginger and scallion—just enough to warm up the fish and lightly cook the outside. These tender pieces arrived draped over a roll that held asparagus, cucumber, and avocado, and I really enjoyed the interplay of textures and temperatures in each bite.

Thankfully, that was the end of our meal. Somehow ES and I had managed to consume two dinners in one evening, our brains believing that because each plate had been so small, and that so many had been billed as appetizers, we hadn't eaten as much as we really had. Our groaning bellies told the truth, though, and though we'd had no ramen that night, we'd definitely had plenty else to satisfy, and how.

Hapa Sushi: What's the haps?

Though I returned to Colorado, my hectic weekend (now nearly week) wasn't over yet. I flew into Denver International around noon and was picked up by KS and WP, but we weren't heading home to Fort Collins—we had tickets to see Death Cab for Cutie, Andrew Bird, and Ra Ra Riot perform at Red Rocks Amphitheater that evening, so we were spending the day (and night) in Denver.

After making our way to JP's apartment and dropping off our things, the four of us went to Hapa Sushi for a late lunch/early dinner. It was happy hour, and we were hungry, so we ordered an enormous amount: two salmon-avocado rolls; a yellowtail roll; a California roll; a Philadelphia roll, a "Rock 'n' Roll" (spicy rock shrimp and cucumber); and tuna, salmon, and eel nigiri. The quality of the sushi was average—not great, not terrible. I'm assuming it's more the slick, hip vibe of the place that's gained the restaurant its popularity.

We also got one of Hapa's special rolls, most of which had naughty monikers ("Foreplay," "Climax," "Booty Call"). This one was the "69 Roll," which was described as a "shrimp tempura, crab mix, and cucumber roll wrapped in salmon, sweet soy, and baked with cream sauce." I'm pretty wary of crazy fusion sushi like this, and while the roll didn't taste bad, it also reaffirmed my initial feeling that sushi shouldn't be covered in a blanket of heavy mayonnaise/cream sauce. Or baked until hot. Or be served with an inexplicable strawberry garnish. Okay, so the whole thing was kind of an abomination.

Nevermind! Once lunch/dinner was finished it was on to Red Rocks, where we spent an hour or two before the concert tailgating in the parking lot, during which a double rainbow and an amazing sunset made their appearance.

Death Cab for Cutie, performing Transatlanticism

Unfortunately, by the time we finally we made our way into the amphitheater both Andrew Bird and Ra Ra Riot had already played. I was kind of sad we had missed the opening acts, but I didn't think about it long, for we were just in time to see Death Cab come on stage. The Red Rocks Amphitheater is an amazing place to take in a concert—the sky above is vast and open, the natural rock formations curve up on either side, and the city lights twinkle in the distance. Seeing any performance there would probably be awesome, but seeing Death Cab made it just so much better.

Cafe Zaiya: Sandwiches, a snack, and a sweet

Cafe Zaiya has held a special place in my heart ever since I had my first meal there, and when RT and I decided to meet up for lunch I jumped at the opportunity to eat there again. I arrived before he did and immediately picked up a box of assorted sandwiches, which RT amiably agreed to share with me once he showed up. He told me that he usually eats the trio of sandwiches in order of least flavorful to most, which for him means that he first goes for the tuna salad, then the egg salad, and then finally the chicken katsu. I took his suggestion and ate the sandwiches in the same order he did, but whether that added to my experience or not, I have no idea. Heh.

I also got a beef croquette. The inside was like mashed potatoes mixed with a bit of ground beef rather than a straight beef filling, but I had no issues with that. It reminded me a bit of the Caribbean Food Shack's Combo Pie, but with a substantial, crunchy panko crumb shell instead of one of thin fried dough.

I stashed away a "Chestnut Pie" for later, and was disappointed when I finally ate it and discovered not a filling of chestnut puree, but one of red bean with a single sweetened chestnut in the middle of it. The whole thing was too sweet overall, but I can see how others might be fans. Experimenting at Cafe Zaiya is always fun—you never know what you'll find.

Kyoto Sushi: Surprises from a last resort

After several hours of drinking at a bar on the Upper East Side, MH was hungry and fiending for a bowl of soup noodles. Unfortunately, aside from a few Chinese takeout joints, a restaurant that would serve us soup noodles was nowhere to be found. Along our hunt we passed by Kyoto Sushi and dismissed it as probably having crappy food, but when we realized the restaurant was our best option the four of us reluctantly doubled back and sat ourselves down to give the place a try.

I won't say the food blew my expectations out of the water, but it was better than I thought. I stuck with the chicken katsu don because it's usually a safe bet, and while what I was served wasn't anything special, it definitely wasn't bad. MH was satisfied with her bowl of udon too. I wouldn't go out of my way to eat a meal there, but if stuck in the area again without any options for Asian food, I'd give Kyoto Sushi another shot.

Banana cake, with Asian origins

It had landed in my inbox months earlier, courtesy of my brother: "Granny Nguyen's traditional Vietnamese banana cake recipe." Jeff had eaten the cake at a potluck and requested the recipe from his friend, and it's one that seems to be copyrighted to Hiroko Shimbo at Hiroko's Kitchen. I'm not sure whether that means the recipe is really Japanese instead of Vietnamese, but either way I was willing to give it a shot if my brother was saying that the cake had been delicious. Especially since I had three large overripe bananas on the counter.

I was most intrigued by the cake's base of torn French bread and cornstarch batter. Since I'd never eaten it or even seen what it was supposed to look like, I was envisioning something like a bread pudding beneath a layer of caramelized bananas, maybe with a slightly different texture from the cornstarch and lack of eggs.


Instead of French bread I used a few slices of sturdy, crusty bread that were going stale, and I used light coconut milk, too, instead of regular. I also cut the amount of sugar, since my brother had said the cake was quite sweet.

Pre-bake.

Post-bake, and cooling on my "windowsill."

Again, this was when I was still struggling with the craziness of my oven, so after an abbreviated baking time of twenty minutes, I had to take the cake out of the oven before the entire thing burnt to a crisp. You can see that the edges are already a little blackened.

Frankly, I have no idea if this was how the cake was supposed to turn out. The flavor was good, laced with caramelized banana and coconut flavor, but despite my substantial cutting of the sugar (by about half a cup) it was still extraordinarily sweet. And while the directions said to chill before serving, I found that I liked the cake best when it was still warm: in the refrigerator, the cake turned hard and unpleasant, while when warm it was bouncy and soft. When I ate a slice the next day, I microwaved it first.

I'm guessing that if I had been able to bake it at the proper temperature and length of time, it would have come out better. Given another stash of overripe bananas, I might try this recipe again.

Banana Cake
by Hiroko Shimbo

4 large bananas, peeled and sliced thin crosswise
14 ounces sugar, about 1 3/4 cups (I cut this amount to 1 1/4 cups)
1 can coconut milk (I used light coconut milk)
6 ounces French baguette
1.8 ounces cornstarch flour, about 5 1/2 tablespoons

Heat the oven to 400 degrees F. Grease the inside and bottom of cake mold and line with parchment paper. In a bowl mix sliced banana with half amount of sugar. Stir gently with wooden spatula to toss banana with sugar thoroughly.

Break French baguette into small pieces by hand and place them in another bowl. Add remaining sugar and coconut milk. Stir and mix thoroughly until bread is very soft. Add cornstarch. Place bread mixture into the mold. Level the surface and cover it with banana. Bake in the heated oven 40 to 50 minutes. Remove cake from the oven, cool and chill in the refrigerator before serving.

The sushi that redeemed: Mt. Fuji

Sigh. Is that snow on the ground? Yes, because I took this photo way back in March, when MC and KS and I went to eat at Mt. Fuji in order to satisfy a sushi craving. I was wary of eating more raw fish in Fort Collins after that terrible meal at Suehiro, but MC had testified that she had eaten at this restaurant before and that it was good, so I agreed to give it a shot.

Right away I noticed the assortment of exotic rolls displayed in the well-photographed picture menu. While I'm not usually one for frou-frou fish, I also admit I'm a bit of a sucker for interesting ingredient combinations, just to see if they'll work.

We checked off a bunch of rolls on the sushi menu, thinking they would arrive arranged on wooden trays all at once, but they slowly came out one by one, as they were prepared. The first to arrive was two orders of Chuka Maki, rolls filled with cucumber, daikon radish, and dried squash and topped with seaweed salad. I'd never had maki like this before, and was pleased by how flavorful the vegetarian rolls were.

MS and KC split an order of the Heavenly Roll, which was filled with spicy kampachi and cucumber and topped with escolar fish, wasabi tobiko and surrounded by a jalapeno spinach sauce. I don't remember if I tasted this one or not, but you can get a sense of Mt. Fuji's presentation style here.

Spicy yellowtail maki, spicy salmon maki, and shrimp tempura maki. I didn't try the shrimp tempura maki, but the yellowtail and salmon rolls were decent and serviceable, nothing outstanding.

I also got the Tiger Eye roll: assorted fish, tempura battered. Yes, there's a glaring inclusion of krab as one of the "assorted fish," as well as avocado (and I do like California rolls, just wanted a bit more from a "special roll"), but there's also salmon and masago. The deep-frying had cooked the salmon just until it was tender. The hot rice and fish combined with a crisp outside was an interesting experience, and while I think I like my rolls un-fried in the end, it was probably one of the better renditions of tempura sushi that I could have encountered.

Mt. Fuji surpassed my expectations, though I didn't expect anything, really, beyond not having a terrible meal. I'm glad I went so soon after going to Suehiro, because the place restored my faith in getting decent sushi in this town. I hear good things about Nimo's, too, which I'll have to check out.

Spring Break Shenanigans, Part 3: Rodizio Grill, Suehiro

Catch up! Part 1 and Part 2


Our first meal of the day was at Rodizio Grill, a Brazilian restaurant that had opened up not long ago in an old train station building. Since I wrote an article about it for the Coloradoan, check out my writeup here! (Um, and I'd just like to emphasize that I did not come up with that "You'll be glad you said yes to this experience" line.) The food was quite good, and both of us were stuffed by the time we left. I felt certain we wouldn't need another meal.

But after a day of shopping, running errands, and bumming around town, the clock struck eight and we found our stomachs rumbling again. In the mood for something light, I suggested Suehiro, a Japanese restaurant that had been consistently voted as one of the best in Fort Collins. As we drove to Old Town to where the restaurant was located, I had no idea what a depressing meal we were headed for.

It began auspiciously enough, with bowls of miso soup brimming with chunks of tofu, and a pickled carrot and cucumber salad that was a welcome change from the ubiquitous iceberg lettuce with carrot-ginger dressing I was expecting.

And our $24 Sushi Boat looked pretty good, too, with tuna and cucumber rolls, California rolls, crab rolls, and tuna, yellowtail, egg, shrimp, scallop, salmon, crab, octopus, halibut, and eel nigiri.

Even the Sunset Roll, eel and cucumber with avocado on top, seemed promising.

But once we started eating, the excitement died. The fish was—not unfresh, exactly, but not really fresh, either. The Sunset Roll came in a pool of sauce which completely overwhelmed the rice, avocado, and eel. And the rolls were so badly constructed and sloppy looking I concluded I could do much better myself. Our chopsticks moved from the plate to our mouths at a slower and slower place. Finally, midway through, TL put down his chopsticks and looked at me. "Bleh," he said, and I couldn't have agreed more.

The service here was super friendly, and I felt bad directing our waitress to throw out the rest of the sushi, but that's exactly what we did. She seemed concerned about our lack of enthusiasm, but it wasn't her fault. The place had served up some seriously mediocre food and neither of us wanted any more of it.

Both of us were in low spirits from eating such a bad meal, so we went home, ate some more chocolate cake, and headed out to see Watchmen in an attempt to cheer ourselves up. And while I didn't think much of the movie—I ended up falling asleep for the first third, and then giggling at its absurdity for the remainder—at least it wasn't depressing. Thank goodness.

Spring Break Shenanigans
Part 1: Braving the Road for Seoul BBQ
Part 2: Pikes Peak donuts, Phantom Canyon Brewing Company
Part 3: Rodizio Grill, Suehiro
Part 4: Dim sum at Star Kitchen, Red Robin redux
Part 5: Farmer's Table, Han Kang Korean Restaurant

Maki-making at home

So I'm pretty proud of myself for this one: I started making my own California rolls! Ever since I realized I could pretty easily keep all the ingredients I need on hand, this Americanized maki recipe has gone into regular rotation. Krab sticks can be frozen; unripe avocados last for weeks in the fridge; sushi rice, nori, sugar, and rice vinegar all keep in the pantry.

The method is about the same as when I made avocado maki. Mix freshly cooked sushi rice with a bit of rice vinegar and sugar (about seven ounces of rice is good for two rolls) and let it cool; spread half the seasoned rice over one full sheet of nori; lay avocado slices (about one quarter) and a krab stick (split in two, lengthwise) across the middle, and roll it all up using a mat (or if you're like me, your fingers). Lay the roll seam-side down, slice into eight pieces with a sharp knife, and repeat. Have wasabi and soy sauce for dipping on the side.

By the way, two rolls makes a really substantial meal, so depending on my appetite I often cut down on the amount of rice. (For some reason I can't bring myself to make just one roll at a time.) And while my kitchen is definitely no Sushi Yasuda or Masa, making this stuff at home means I can wean myself off of buying supermarket or takeout sushi in moments of desperation.

After all, here's the cost breakdown:

Two sheets of nori, $0.125 ($7.99 for a pack of fifty)
Half an avocado, $0.50 ($1.00 for one)
Two sticks of krab, $1.00 ($4.00 for pack of eight)
One-third cup uncooked sushi rice/about seven ounces cooked, $0.25 (estimated, I paid $5.00 for a five pound bag)
Sugar and rice vinegar, $0.10 (estimated)
Soy sauce, $0.10 (estimated)
Wasabi, $0.10 (estimated, a "family size" tube was about $2.50)

TOTAL: $2.18 for two rolls/sixteen pieces*
*And if you're curious, that comes out to about 485 calories and 11 grams of fat.

Compare that to five or six bucks per pack of eight for takeout California rolls, and I save myself about eight or ten dollars every time I have a maki jones. Yes!

Hanging out in Hiroko's Place

I don't remember when I first read about Hiroko's Place, but ever since I did I'd been wanting to check it out. It seemed to have such a great combination of appealing elements: inexpensive, home-style Japanese fare; good coffee; shelves of books and couches to read them on; a quirky and cozy atmosphere. When I met up with RT and RL to have dinner there near the end of winter break, I discovered the place was even more charming than I expected—it was like some hip Asian grandmother's living room.

I arrived about half an hour early, having given up on strolling the neighborhood once the sun set and the night turned dark and icy. After settling myself on the couch with a menu, I noticed that Hiroko's Place offered coffee brewed using a siphoning method which I had never seen before. Though the prices were a little high (the above, a large, was $4.25), I ordered myself a mocha, which was noted as being unflavored and unsweetened. Watching the brewing process was fascinating—I totally went back to my high school science experiment days—and the mug I was served was filled with coffee that was very smooth, clean, and rich tasting with an edge of bitter chocolate.

Once RT and RL arrived, we moved to a table to have our meal. I went with the kino-tara spaghetti, which was spaghetti in salted cod roe with an assortment of mushrooms and mixed vegetables. Rather than being creamy as I had expected, this dish was more like a stir-fry of spag and veg, and it came with a scoop of Japanese-style potato salad on the side. Simple but enjoyable.

RL added on a ladle of Japanese chicken curry over her omelette-wrapped fried rice; hers also came with a scoop of potato salad. RT went with the seafood gratin over macaroni, which reminded me of some kind of baked seafood mac and cheese. I didn't sample either of them, but they looked good, and both RT and RL seemed to enjoy their dishes.

For dessert the three of us split a green tea parfait and a green tea cake. The parfait was beautifully layered with assorted fruit, sweetened red beans, whipped cream, green tea ice cream, and corn flakes—a touch that in its incongruity seemed quintessentially Asian to me. In both desserts the ice cream was a little icy, and the green tea roulade was slightly dry and didn't seem like it had been baked in-house, though I'm not certain. Didn't stop us from finishing it all, though.

We lingered for a while after our plates were cleared, and the place seemed exactly right for doing so. The service was consistently friendly, our water glasses were continually refilled without our prompting, and no one seemed antsy about us staying that long. We left a large tip in thanks.