How To Do Shabu Shabu At Home

I may have mentioned it before during reviews of shabu shabu restaurants: shabu shabu is the one restaurant dish that anyone can replicate at home and lose almost nothing in the translation. Speaking of "translation", remember the scene in Lost in Translation when Bill Murray says to Scarlett Johansson, “What kind of restaurant makes you cook your own food?”

Hilarious.

Anyway. I digress. What follows is meant to be an informational essay for anyone who might want to try shabu shabu at home. If you count a goma grinder among your kitchen essentials, you need not read this. You're already an expert.

But first this note: just because we are capable of making shabu shabu at home doesn’t mean that we’ve sworn off patronizing shabu shabu restaurants. We don’t speak in such absolutes. Still, it is significantly cheaper...even if you splurge on the Kobe cuts of meat. But more importantly, shabu shabu, because it’s so interactive, is actually the ideal dinner party food.

You do, however, have to get over the hurdle of start-up costs. There are exactly two pieces of equipment that are required. The first is an induction stove. There are options other than induction. You could use Sterno or even a camp stove, for example. We would still recommend an induction. It’s safer and isn’t that much more in cost. Our local Costco recently had a sale on induction stoves for $49.99, which is a bargain when you consider other models can go upwards to $200.

If you do buy an induction stove, the second piece of equipment you'll need is a stainless steel shabu shabu pot. Those aluminum pots you have at home won’t work on an induction burner. And most pots in a typical kitchen are too deep for shabu shabu. A shabu shabu pot needs to be shallow enough that you can lower your chopstick into it without scalding or singeing your hand. You can buy a shabu shabu pot from Amazon, but you’ll probably find the same brands for much cheaper at your local Chinese super market. 99 Ranch, our local Chinese grocer, had the one we now use on sale for $10. Skimmers and ladles are also nice to have, because there will be scum to skim and items that will be too slippery for chopsticks. Put them in a bowl of water next to the pots.

After the hardware, the next thing you must consider are the ingredients. And if there's one rule, it's that there are no rules. There’s no right or wrong thing to put in shabu shabu. And there’s no technique involved except cutting a few ingredients up into bite-sized pieces. Again, what those ingredients are, is totally up to you. For us, it’s often what’s on sale at the local Asian grocery (in our case, HMart).

Do pay attention to presentation, however. You could do family style, putting the things you’re going to boil in a big communal tray or in sharable saucers; but we like to individualize the plates to highlight the array of ingredients we’ve chosen. If you decide to do it this way, arrange the items with contrasting colors in mind.

Imitation crab adds a splash of red. A green onion stalk laid atop something monochromatic like tofu can make it pop. If you do napa cabbage for your main vegetable (it's cheap and it cooks quickly), consider placing the greener leaves on top to highlight its color. We also find that oyster mushrooms work extremely well. Fish cakes and fish balls we add because, well, because we like them almost as much as the meat.

And finally, there’s protein--which I suppose is the whole point of shabu shabu. But even here, it’s up to you. Pork, chicken, beef, lamb, they all work well so long as it’s sliced wafer thin. When picking out your meat (Korean or Japanese stores will have the best selection) make sure it’s sliced thin enough for shabu shabu. Be sure you're not buying the cuts designated for Korean BBQ, which will turn into leather when boiled. What you want for shabu shabu will often be labled “thin slice” or have some other sort of indication it’s been shaved expressly for shabu shabu.

If you intend to add shrimp, like we did, you can completely peel and devein or leave the whole animal intact. Always segregate the raw meat from your vegetables and other pre-cooked items. Food illness by way of cross contamination isn't a way to win over your guests.

When it comes to dipping sauce, we usually buy the ponzu and goma that are bottled for use on shabu shabu. They're usually about $5 a bottle. But we also offer the option of green onion, grated garlic and Huy Fong Food’s garlic chili paste for anyone who wants it. The sauces, by the way, are not optional. It will provide almost all the seasoning and flavor to everything you cook. After all, you are cooking things in plain water.

Which brings me to the subject of the cooking broth. We opt for just water with some kombu. You could use chicken stock, if you want, but it'll be a waste. We'll occasionally add a little sake to the water, but have found that its flavor contribution is so insignificant we’re better off just drinking it. There’s no point seasoning the broth in any other way unless you intend to do Mongolian hot pot, which is an entirely different subject.

Sometimes you'll see udon noodles being offered at shabu shabu restaurants for use after the meal winds down. But it's rare that that anyone we invite for shabu shabu ever wants the noodles. By the end we're usually too stuffed.

One final touch that we added last time, which further brings home the point that shabu shabu at home can be just as good as those in restaurant, was a fake check we printed up to present to our guests. It was a joke. We all had a good laugh. And no, we didn't take their money...yet.

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Han Yang - Buena Park

Cham Soot Gol - Rowland Heights

There are Korean BBQ's everywhere these days. Shik Do Rak, Mo Ran Gak, Icheonwon, Go Goo Ryeo--these are just a few of the bigger players. Some do all-you-can-eat. Some don’t. All are there intent to stuff you full of beef, and pork, and chicken, or whatever else can conceivably be roasted and charred atop a table grill. If you don’t leave reeking of smoke and so overfed you feel like dying, you’ve done it all wrong.

You need not go to LA’s Koreatown or Garden Grove’s Korean District to feast on KBBQ. On the Colima Rd. corridor in Rowland Heights, where a small Korean community has sprouted, Cham Soot Gol has to be one of the oldest, if not the oldest KBBQ joint in the neighborhood. It looks like the grand-aunt of all the others I’ve mentioned and it is related to the one in LA and the one in OC. The tables are worn; a few of the plates are warped from being too close to the heat; and the room is dark and dank, and not on purpose.

The servers, by the way, will look like grand-aunts themselves. And for the first few minutes of service, before they attend to the other nieces and nephews, they’ll treat you like one of their own, snipping your kalbi into bite-sized pieces.

This particular Cham Soot Gol is also one of the few places I’ve eaten Korean BBQ where actual charcoal is still employed. The one in Garden Grove stopped doing it a long time ago. Chunks of it are crammed just above the gas burners. That it adds a special smokiness to the meat (not to mention your clothes and hair follicles) should be obvious.

Cham Soot Gol is an AYCE. You probably don’t need to order anything other than the cheapest option called the Special D which retails for $16.99 and gives you round after round of brisket, squid, chicken, shrimp, pork belly and spicy pork. The shrimp is particularly sweet; the thin-shaved brisket melts just like you expect it would. Here, like everywhere else, you wrap the finished morsels around squares of oiled noodle called dduk. Included with all meals is salad, a good array of panchan dishes, a soondubu (soft tofu soup) and best of all, a fluffy, light as foam steamed egg that’s a signature of the Cham Soot Gol family of restaurants.

Yes, the latter is filler designed to throttle your meat consumption so that you don’t eat them out of their profits; but have it anyway. It's good for you.

Cham Soot Gol
18722 Colima Rd. Ste E
Rowland Heights, CA 91748
(626) 839-9282

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Brü Grill & Market - Lake Forest,

Dim Sum from Sam Woo - Irvine

I risk sounding like an old fuddy-duddy when I say that nothing is cheap anymore. Thrifty ice cream is well over a dollar these days. I remember when it was 15-cents a cone! Yes, 15-cents! And last week Philippe's in LA raised the price for a cup of coffee a whopping 500%. It went up from 9-cents to 45-cents. But the important thing is there was an onion on my belt...which was the style of the time...

This is why I'm amazed that Sam Woo's take out has seemingly stayed the same price. Has it always been $5.50? It seems like it's always been. That's about what I remember paying when I was a college student and needed something to feed me over the span of two days, which it still does. If the price has risen over the last two decades, it must have been just to cover the cost of Styrofoam.

Since I've got a slight increase in salary over my college days, I opt for the take out dim sum over the combo meals. I did so last weekend. I ordered a whole stash of items, exactly 20 dollars-worth, then gorged on it at home, in front of the TV while watching an excellent kung fu movie called Ip Man on Netflix.

The har gow was thin-skinned and shrimp inside still wriggly; the egg custard cup called dan taat was still so fresh and warm it collapsed upon itself when I tried to pick it up. The juicy pork dumplings, however, is no match to Din Tai Fung's (it never was nor will be). But dim sum like this, it must be said, is perfect for TV viewing, especially when you can't take your eyes off the screen since the film is subtitled.


I might do the same again next weekend. I've got another twenty bucks and apparently Ip Man has a sequel.

15333 Culver Dr. Ste 720
Irvine, CA 92604
(949) 262-0688
www.samwooirvine.com

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
The Playground - Santa Ana

Pho So 1 - Irvine

I remember eating at a Pho So 1 in either Reseda or Van Nuys or whatever mini-mall-blighted part of the San Fernando Valley I happened to be at the time. Point is I was visiting a friend, and he took me there after proclaiming that it was the only worthy Vietnamese place in the area. I don't remember much about the meal, except that I was hungry. I would have to assume that I liked it well enough, because when a Pho So 1 opened recently in Irvine, I immediately recognized the name.

The first thing I have to tell you about the Irvine Pho So 1 is that it looks un-Irvine. It has to be the most utilitarian dining space in the entire city--a pho joint, which like the best of them, doesn't bother with much decor. If there is pho in the distant utopian future where bald people in all-white jumpsuits have bar codes as nametags, the restaurant that serves it might look like this--clean, sleek, so large it echoes, and so brightly lit it wakes you up even before you order the ca phe sua da.

I like that it gets down to the basics, that there's not much to see or distract. You eat. You pay. You get out.

I ordered what I always order, which if you know me or this blog, isn't the pho, but the mi. And the broth is everything it always is: the same recipe for the sweet, salty, clear yellow soup that I've slurped at every pho joint and Vietnamese restaurant that serves the dish. The main differentiators are the toppings, and it is very good here. The roast pork is plentiful and thick, so tender and so soft it can be masticated by the toothless. The shrimp isn't overcooked and the noodles are still firm enough to be called al dente.

I didn't have the pho, but I did taste a sip of the broth and steal a few meats like the tripe and the tendon, and it was fine. A more thorough review of the pho will have to wait until I recover from what seems like a permanent case of pho-tigue.

Pho So 1
3831 Alton Pkwy. Ste. B
Irvine, CA 92606
(949) 251-8829

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Boiling Point - Irvine

Zcafe - Costa Mesa

There are several areas of refuge in the shopping mall of shopping malls we all know as South Coast Plaza. Macy’s Signature Kitchen is one of them. In the deserted food court where no one really eats, Marcus Samuellson’s MarcBurger still puts out one of the best frozen custards around. But even that oasis of calm isn’t as good or as cozy as Zcafe’s semi-outdoor lounge.

So let’s just keep this tip between you and me, mmm’kay?

Zcafe’s space, shaded by the building’s overhang but otherwise open to the air at the west end of the Bridge of Gardens (the pedestrian bridge that connect SCP to Crystal Court), has plush couches, TVs, heat lamps, Wi-Fi, and what appears to be an actual futon for napping. I have used this space to sit, rest my calves, and even taken a five-minute snooze.

So far the only souls who seemed to have discovered this hidden asylum are the Apple Store employees who routinely use it as their unofficial breakroom.

But first a background: Zcafe used to be CPK ASAP (the fast food arm of California Pizza Kitchen), but since the Z Pizza conglomerate took it over and the space outside, the pace seemed to have slowed down for the better.

I’m not even going to touch on the pizzas here, which are fine but not great. I will, however, talk about the hummus--the only thing you should ever need to order. It’s the perfect food for the space, which I treat as a rest stop, a respite from my chores--a refueling station, if you will.

You don’t want to be weighed down with anything leaden with cheese. A light iced tea should be the beverage to sip with the hummus, a decidedly Mediterranean meal with spears of cooling cucumber, piquant olives, sweet as sugar marinated peppers, and a crispy plank of pizza bread doubling as pita with which to scoop up the dip. I didn’t expect it to be good, let alone supplied with fresh vegetables, but it was this and more.

On top of Mt. Hummus a pool of olive oil shimmered. And it’s relatively cheap for SCP. This $5.95 appetizer plate will feed two easily and could constitute a light lunch for vegetarians or a mid afternoon snack for the rest of us.

ZCafe
3333 Bear St. Ste. 316
Costa Mesa, CA 92626
(714) 545-5500

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Tamarind of London - Newport Beach

Mamon from Red Ribbon - Anaheim

I've been eating Red Ribbon's mamon for quite a while now. But it wasn't until recently, before a busy morning, that I can say I thoroughly enjoyed one. I realized then how very good they are. Isn't it amazing how life and food taste so much better when you take the time to savor?

I took my first bite with sip of tea, and in that moment, I was sent into a Zen-state of mind. The eggy richness bloomed in my mouth, the cake's texture is fluffy beyond what's imaginable, so airy it almost wants to float. A swipe of sticky sweet butter and a smattering of grated cheese on top seemed the only thing weighing it down, keeping it from lifting away like a helium balloon.


Despite being packaged like a Twinkie, the pastry cake cuffed inside what seems like a coffee filter is the picture of wholesomeness. It list egg whites, sugar and other pronounceable things as ingredients. The expiration date was about two days from when I bought it. After the first one I ate, the rest didn't last nearly as long.

Red Ribbon Bake Shop
601 N Euclid St
Anaheim, CA 92801
(714) 635-0256

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Gen Korean BBQ - Tustin

Maycar Foods' Crackling - The Ultimate Pork Rind

I have a bag of these that remain half eaten in my cupboard. It's not that I don't want to finish them; it's that I am afraid that I will. This would be the third one I've consumed, and no other foodstuff I've eaten in recent memory has given me more pleasure and levied more guilt than this item. They are literally dangerous--everything that someone with an elevated cholesterol level should not eat.

But oh are they great. They are, in my opinion, the very best pork rinds on the planet. Actually, I'm not sure they can technically still be called pork rinds. The label simply says "cracklings" with the comically matter-of-fact addendum of "fried out pork fat with attached skin" as a descriptor. Actually, I suspect that the product is actually made from fatback.

They are certainly not the garden variety type of pork skin treat. It's noisier by a few decibels, a loud crunch on the lower frequency like Barry White's deep-throated rumble.


There are two separate and distinguishable strata of porcine material at play here: the outer curl, which is puffed-up and light-as-foam, and then the attached inner curl, which is dense and vaguely meaty. When my bite penetrates the latter, a surge of what feels like melted fat gushes out. I know it's not melted fat because the pieces are bone dry and are at room temperature, but it's a thrilling, if somewhat disturbing sensation, all the same.

I've only found them sold at one place, at the counter at Magic Wok in Artesia next to the other chips. I brought a bag to the office once and a co-worker and I finished it in fifteen minutes while we discussed its inherently salty, sweet, magical, and mystical qualities. As he ate, he examined every piece like a curious scientist and concluded that by the end of the bag, we probably just consumed the equivalent of a pack of bacon between the two of us.

No, I never compared the bag's nutritional facts with an actual pack of bacon to see if he was right. I don't want to know.

The Magic Wok
(562) 865-7340
11869 Artesia Blvd
Artesia, CA 90701

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
What We Learned in 2011

Dos Chinos - Orange County

Face it folks, this food truck fad isn't going away soon. Of the many newfangled food trucks out there, there are few that didn't take its cues from Kogi, the one that started it all. Dos Chinos' Latin-Asian imitation of what Kogi does is flattery at its most sincere. But then, Kogi itself wasn't exactly original. It got the idea from a blogger.

I think Krusty the Clown summarized it best when he said, "If this is anyone but Steve Allen, you're stealing my bit!"

But I digress. Imitator or not, Dos Chinos is great. If you're going to find your inspiration from something as iconic as Kogi (yes, Kogi is now an icon), you couldn't do it better than what Hop Phan and crew have done at Dos Chinos. In actuality, apart from the fusion-y aspects it shares with Roy Choi's concept, Dos Chinos has a flavor profile all its own.

As most of you who've already tried both will already know, Kogi tends to favor the heavy, the cheesy, the bold. Dos Chinos is lighter on its feet and in what it puts into its tacos and burritos. Rice inhabits most things, as does cabbage, cilantro and salsa.


A shrimp burrito actually does taste like something out of a Hawaiian shrimp truck, a scampi-like preparation that mixes so well with the Mexi components that it boggles the mind why no one did it sooner. The Korean BBQ beef is sweeter than carne asada, but it still makes sense wrapped up inside a toasty and pliant tortilla.

But perhaps the best thing the truck produces is the fries, a deceptively simple and humble mound of fried-from-frozen garden variety spuds. It's sprinkled garlic butter and crumbles of cotija cheese to become an addictive substance that is immediately better than the sum of its parts.

It shows that in the end, it matters not who you take your inspiration from. What matters is that you put out something good...that just might inspire someone else to copy you later.

Dos Chinos
doschinos.com

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Three Seventy Common - Laguna Beach

Sushi Imari - Costa Mesa

If you fancy yourself a sushi purist, you might have dismissed Sushi Imari as a roll-peddler, an entity that would initially appear so diametrically opposed to the respected raw fish masters at Sushi Shibucho and Sushi Wasabi that it becomes like comparing a graffiti artist to Michelangelo and Botticelli. Yes, it has a menu that features rolls with names including but not limited to the "Marilyn Monroll" and "Me Soy Horny".

But if you were judging by only that, you'd be as misinformed as I was when I walked in.

Nearly everything I ordered from the specials board turned me from snobby skeptic to instant fan.

I've been eating a lot of live amaebi lately, some better than others, but Sushi Imari's special was immaculate. I was floored how good it was. The flesh was predictably crunchy and sweet, dispatched just seconds before it's laid on top of the ball of rice; but the way they do the heads was a different beast entirely.

The antennae extended past the boundaries of the plate, arching towards the stratosphere, and were gilded in a thin shimmer of tempura batter that hung off like dew drops. The care taken in cooking the head was remarkable--every millimeter of the carapace was rendered crisp into a sea chip, the best fry job of its kind. It's greaseless and perfect, with just the right amount of salty.

And then there's the uni, so sweet I swore it was made of some sort of heavenly custard, and so sparkling fresh it seemed as if it were just fished out of the lapping waters of the Pacific just a minute before.

When we left, we talked about it again and both agreed: that was some great uni.

The hamachi kama, which I order just about anywhere I can get it, has to be ranked in my top five. The grilled fish collar--skin covered in char, supple flesh imbued with sweet, sweet smoke all the way through--was nothing but two thin bones picked clean by the end.

And yes, the rolls were unexpectedly enjoyable too. There was a cucumber-wrapped crab and tuna thing threaded by toothpicks that gushed flavor and a chillingly cool sensation, like a icy surge of arctic air down your spine.


Sushi Imari was excellent, and for the record, I also like well-done graffiti art just as much as I appreciate Michelangelo's masterpieces.

Sushi Imari
375 Bristol St. Ste 40
Costa Mesa, CA 92626
(714) 641-5654

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Le Pain Quotidien - Newport Beach

Gourmet Grill Masters - Irvine

This lamb shawarma wrap is probably not the thing you ought to order if you go to Gourmet Grill Masters in Irvine. The signature item that put their catering truck--which does rounds at LA’s farmers markets--on Jonathan Gold’s list of Bests is the rotisserie chicken. The Pulitzer Prize winner honored Gourmet Grill Master’s hens as the best roast birds in LA, which is high praise when you consider what’s out there.

But alas, when I came to GGM in Irvine (their first brick-and-mortar store) I was at lunch break and had no desire to mack on a juice-gushing chicken with my good shirt on. A full-on rotisserie bender complete with finger-licking and toum fouling up my breath would have to wait.

In the meantime, it was the shawarma, and it was still more food than I intended to eat in an hour. I was not prepared for its girth. This was a shawarma that beats just about all other shawarmas I’ve had in magnitude. For all intents and purposes, it was a giant Middle Eastern burrito, especially when you consider that it uses the very same pliant and pleasantly stretchy flour tortillas places like Alberto’s employ for their carne asada gut bombs. This "burrito" is just as similarly mottled to crispness in spots, a thin barrier holding back a barrage of onions, tomatoes, lettuce and seasoned lamb meat shaved from an ever-rotating spit.


Along with the excess of filling, there’s an excess of flavor within those tortilla walls. For sure they’ve slathered on a bit of garlic paste, and probably some tahini (and perhaps just a tad too much onion). Not that the lamb really needs the assist: the crumbly and griddle-singed edges of this ground meat loaf-like thing sings of spices like cinnamon, nutmeg and oregano. Also contributing to distend my tummy: they gave out complimentary baskets of deep-fried mini pillows of tortilla with a minty dipping sauce on the side, just because they're nice.

Yes, I’ll try the rotisserie chicken soon. I’ve got a shirt ready to sacrifice for the occasion.

Gourmet Grill Masters
14141 Jeffrey Road
Irvine, CA 92620
949-988-7554
http://ggm-irvine.com

THIS WEEK ON OC WEEKLY:
Wood Ranch BBQ - Irvine