AlwaysInvestigating: Doing the Japanese Boogie

The Gluttoness — September 22, 2009

There will always be trends in menu writing. It has been popular for a while to source ingredients, like with Eleven Madison Park’s citing Four Story Hill Farm’s suckling pig and Momofuku Noodle Bar highlighting Bev Eggleston’s pork belly. Then there’s the trend of using quotation marks for kitschy effects, most notably overused by David Burke, take for example, Fishtail’s Swordfish “Steak Frites” or davidburke townhouse’s Lobster “Pot Pie.”

Recently, I’ve noticed a trend of anthropomorphism on Japanese menus, in particular the use of the term “dancing” to describe dishes. And while I wasn’t expecting anything to waltz across the table, one of the three examples of these dishes I found did come close to performing the Japanese boogie.

 

Spicy Dancing Shrimp at barMasa.

The fried prawns in barMasa’s, “Spicy Dancing Shrimp” ($26) have an unbelievably delicate coating. The airy, accompanying shells (edible elements) were fanned away from the flesh of the shrimp, whose gradual spice builds to a culinary crescendo. Best eaten alone, their heavenly crispness melts on the tongue like shrimp chips. Creamy, spicy mayonnaise made for a rich accoutrement. A sprinkle of shiso pepper enhanced the fiery flavor, but fresh lemon juice assuaged the flames with a bright, citrus tang.

 

Tenzan’s Dancing Eel Roll.

Tenzan’s Dancing Eel Roll ($13.50) wasn’t as light on it’s feet. A spicy crunchy tuna roll was wrapped with broiled eel and smothered in eel sauce and sesame seeds. The creamy insides offered a cool contrast to the warm eel topping, though its rich flavor did overwhelm the raw fish. The sweet, sticky sauce furthered the decadence of this substantial sushi roll. For those who think sushi can’t be filling, the Dancing Eel Roll will have you dancing a new jig about sushi’s ability to satisfy.

 

The “Dancing Plantains” boogie over to your table by way of a ninja garb clad waiter.

Thanks to the theatrics of Ninja New York, the final dish, Dancing Plantains ($8), actually boogied over to the table by way of the ninja-garb wearing waiter. An experience at Ninja is awash in the unexpected, partly because of their varied offerings. You definitely don’t expect to find sliced plantain chips at a Japanese restaurant and here they even come with a trio of dips: a guacamole tomato sauce, spicy potato and roefish purée, and Kinzanji-Miso paste. The thin plantain slivers were delightfully crisp and covered with spices. While the potato purée was too subtle and the miso paste was too salty, they were workable when mixed, and the fresh guacamole neared perfection. The hidden layer of tomato underneath was a juicy surprise—almost as much as the karate chopping ninjas. While the plantains may not have actually danced, Ninja is one ridiculous restaurant that will definitely keep you on your toes.