Wasabi Sushi & Bar in Jackson, MS

I love sushi. What's not to love about flawless, fresh morsels wrapped in chewy sweet rice? Done right, not only are the flavors incredible, but the food itself is art on a plate. When the craving for sushi hits, nothing else will satisfy. So when sushi fever hit me in the heart of the South, bastion of fried food and butter sauce, I was worried. Would I be able to get my fix in Jackson, Mississippi? With a little research, I found Wasabi Sushi & Bar, and I had to check it out.

When I arrived in the midst of the skyscrapers of downtown, I was expecting an upscale dining experience at an upscale price, but I was willing to pay. After all, we're talking sushi! I just hoped it was worth the price. I needn't have worried, however. With a selection of rolls for only $5, Wasabi is far from overpriced. Even a regional item, a spicy Crawfish roll with Japanese pepper was only $7. And as to quality, I had no complaints. It is possible to get sushi in Jackson that's every bit as good as what I'm used to in California. The old standbys, the Philadelphia Roll and the Bar-B-Q Eel Roll, were exactly as they should be, balanced and very fresh. The salmon in the Philadelphia Roll was moist and smokey. The eel wasn't too boney or too fatty. Just meaty, sweet, and perfect. But the menu at Wasabi is more that just a well done rehashing of the same old thing. Sushi is a cuisine that just begs for innovation, and the Wasabi chef is no slacker. The Chef's New Creation section boasts no less than eight never before seen delicacies ranging from the Fusion Po-Boy, the Little Mermaid, and the Yum, Yum, Yum! There's even innovation in the value portion of the menu. With a soft skin and crunchy inside, the Rice Paper Roll is a no-rice wonder drawing strong inspiration from the Vietnamese spring roll and is served with hoisin and sriracha ($5.50).

Wasabi Sushi & Bar is fast becoming a business lunch favorite in the working center of Jackson. This baby new restaurant serves up an elegant dinner as well. It's beautiful blend of the high end and great bargains, old favorites and new flavors, makes Wasabi Sushi & Bar well worth a visit.

Piccadilly Cafeteria in Nashville

I've eaten a lot of meals in Nashville, but my trip wouldn't be complete without mentioning a friendly little place I discovered one hungry day and was subsequently drawn back to no less than five more times. Piccadilly Cafeteria is just that, a cafeteria. After wandering past a promising line of down-home choices, I grabbed my tray, picked an entree, and then played mix-n-match with dozens of sides. I went for some old favorites (like sweet, crunchy broccoli salad with bacon and raisins) as well as a new, seasonal item called Carrot Souffle (a side and dessert in one, capable of delivering a swift sucker punch to the best pumpkin pie).

Piccadilly Cafeteria seemed quite popular with the senior crowd, but with daily $4.99 specials for a complete meal like Chicken and Dumplings, Beef Stew, and fat Chicken Tenders, hungry folks of all ages should storm Piccadilly walls en mass. Funnily enough, young people accounted for the second most represented group where we ate. Calling all families: As a bonus, on certain days kids can get a full meal for 99 cents!

Sure, I liked the simple, homey food (a lot!) and loved the prices, but our servers really made Nashville's Piccadilly Cafeteria feel like home. It was like having dinner with my grandma, "Would you like more...?" "I'll grab you some napkins," "Did you get plenty to eat?" When we left for the last time, one of them even hugged and kissed us goodbye saying, "Love ya." We'd only been there a week! Now I'm generally a fan the accessible yet non-intrusive waitstaff, but every now and then it's so nice to feel loved. Piccadilly Cafeteria serves that up by the heaping spoonful, for tummy and soul alike. It's not some glamorous eatery, but with so much to gain and so little to lose, it's really worth checking out.

Raz'z Bar & Grill in Nashville

After driving past the same billboard twice a day for three days, I suppose it was fate that we ended up at Raz'z Bar & Grill for New Year's Eve. I'm sure the billboard advertising that the restaurant was featured on Food Network's "Best Thing Ever" had nothing to do with it. An icy wind blew us into Raz'z, but the warm atmosphere and smooth live jazz chased away the Tennessee chill.

I had big expectations for Raz'z, a billboard will do that, but the best parts of the meal for me came in all the little surprises. First was the friendly people. From the near ecstatic fellow who seated us to the manager who came to say goodbye, Raz'z was full of great folks. The chef even brought our meal to the table, and I don't think I've ever seen a bigger smile.

Next was the bread. It might seem a little funny to go from great service to bread, but you didn't taste this bread. Our third basket was delayed momentarily so it could finish baking. That's fresh. These rolls are served h-o-t and soft. I even had one for dessert. The yellow squash casserole was another savory little surprise. It's a must try. Finally, the kid's spaghetti! Not only was it a wonderful portion for only $2.99, but the pasta was cooked perfectly. I ended up eating almost as much of our smallest diner's meal as I did my own.

The Jumbalia Pasta lived up to it's Food Network reputation with just the right amount of kick and cooked-all-day flavor. We had ours over wild rice, which added wonderful nuttiness and chewy texture, but if the pasta version is anything like the kid's pasta, I'd say definitely get that.

Since I've been craving BBQ since first setting foot in the South, we rounded out the night's meal with a full rack of ribs. I know, I know, but it's New Year's Eve! And as the saying goes, eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we diet (Yeah, wish me luck with that!). So with resolutions around the corner, I totally indulged tonight, and an indulgence it was. You don't so much chew the meat of the bones at Raz'z. You just suck it off and the meat kind of jumps into your mouth like it had the idea first.

This wasn't just good food, it was an excellent dining experience. When you eat Nashville, make sure to check out Raz'z Bar & Grill. With our meals in Tennessee numbered, this one was really worth the stop!

Gerst Haus since 1890, Nashville

Dark stained wood, exposed stone, and stuffed deer heads give the Gerst Haus a definitively German feel (of course the Oom-pah music doesn't hurt either). Set just across the river from the main part of Nashville, Gerst Haus bar and restaurant was an unexpected find on today's hunger-induced wanderings. Even more surprising, we were just in time for happy hour! Any one of the four half-priced appetizers would have been more than enough to fill us up (even sharing), but we got three.

If you're unfamiliar with German food (though it does strongly influence quite a bit of American cuisine), the Sausage Sampler is a great place to start (11.99 normally, our price 6.00). It comes with a selection of four German sausages (long, thick slices of bratwurst, smoked mett ring, berliner mett, and kielbase, the winner). The plate also includes rye bread, horseradish, German potato salad, and a hefty scoop of sweet and spicy sauerkraut (on the side). The Munich Cheese Dip, a mixture of cheese, salsa, and ground beef, came across more Mexican then German, but was tasty in a pub food, Super Bowl party kind of way (7.99, our price 4.00). Our favorite of the day, however, was definitely the Gerst Bavarian Pizza. This strange appetizer consisted of two big slices of rye bread topped with pizza sauce, kielbase, and Swiss and cheddar cheeses and is baked until the cheese is brown. (Mommy!) We couldn't finish half the food we got, but with this incredible bargain and a belly full of hearty, strangely familiar German food, who can complain? With an ample menu of choices like Beef Stroganoff, Goulash, and Quail, any diner can find a hearty new favorite. And, yes, they have hamburgers and roast chicken for the less adventurous in your party.

Couldn't manage dessert this time around, but with Bavarian Apfel Strudel and the Flourless Chocolate Cake on the menu, you'll want to share dinner and save room! Write me and tell me how the desserts were at Gerst Haus. I'll be so jealous!

Sunset Grill in Nashville

We walked into the upscale Sunset Grill in Nashville, Tennessee with promises of upscale fare at stripped down, late night prices. I was not disappointed. After 10pm, Sunset Grill ditches the lobster and fillet minion for a smaller, cheaper menu without losing any of the flavor. Even though I perused the menu online before jumping on the 440, it was tough to decide. Voodoo Pasta, Honey Almond Chicken Salad, and a Classic Hummus plate that looked anything but classic beconed, but the winner of the night was a suggestion from both our host and our waitress: Nachos. I was as surprised as anyone, but when twice in five minutes you hear, "Our late night menu is known for the nachos," and the guy behind you orders them, you roll with fate and get the nachos.

Like most nachos, they were big enough to share and an awesome bargain at $11.99 (chicken and black beans included for late night guests only). Unlike most nachos, they were coated in a melted cream cheese and salsa mixture before being topped with a pile of cheddar. The straightforward salsa on the side had the perfect baby kick for a baby mouth like mine, but optional jalapeno peppers are there for them that wants 'um. I am totally stealing the Sunset Grill nacho recipe for my next party.

But I couldn't come all this way and just get the nachos (famous or not)! The Sonoma Salad, served with a mellow sweet garlic-zinfandel vinaigrette, creamy Danish blue, green apples and roasted almonds, was generous even for the $3.99 half portion. And dessert? Yes, please! Though even the smaller, late night menu is filled with exciting flavors, it doesn't hold a candle the the dessert menu. It all looked great, but I can't see the word "sushi" on a menu and not dive right in. I was warned by my served that the Chocolate-Coconut Sushi, "Is a lot of coconut," but I had to try it. The ganache coated coconut log was awesome, chilled and topped with whipped cream and candied ginger. The flavors were so well balanced, right up until I realized I'd still had three, naked coconut log centers left behind. Might I suggest, Chef, smaller logs for a better chocolate/coconut ratio? A dramatic and yummy desserts, if you can make peace with not cleaning your plate.

This won't be my last trip to Sunset Grill, for sure. The Polenta Cheese Fries with basil ketchup are calling my name, and I am a sucker for a gallery atmosphere at Denny's prices. Curiosity alone, (Butterscotch-Habanero Bread Pudding?) will bring me back... probably tomorrow. Bravo, Sunset Grill!

'UMAMI BURGER' REVIEW

Twice this week my mother reached out from beyond the grave to tell me to go to Umami Burger in Hollywood. She’d told me to go several times in life as well, so I figured it was time I caved. For a while now, I’ve said there are only three places to go in L.A. when you want a burger: Tommy’s, Carl’s Jr., and In N Out.

Maybe I just have simple tastes. Maybe I’m cheap. Whatever it is, when I stray from that list to fulfill a burger craving I usually regret it, probably because I’ve spent too much on something I didn’t enjoy.

As far as Umami Burger is concerned, I wasn’t disappointed in the taste department. Burgers are served medium rare, the way meat was meant to be eaten. Bold, creative topping options, like The Hatch Burger and The Port & Stilton Burger, sidle right up along side old favorites, nicknamed The Manly Burger and T

he SoCal Burger. There’s also a great assortment of turkey burgers, including the Turkey Miso and the Spicy Bird.

When you go, however, make sure you learn a thing or two about Umami’s secret menu first. That’s where you’ll find the fantastic (and fantastically rich) Manly Burger, a chunky bacon and onion wonder sandwich. Though the tempura onion rings got rave reviews online, except for an initial sprinkling of coarse salt on the outside, they were bland and mostly breading. The sweet potato fries, however, were amazing beneath a pile of Umami Chili. It was a special request on our part, something Internet buzz had said Umami frowns upon, but we got enthusiastic support from the staff. I have had roast beef dinners with smaller chu

nks of roast beef than those in the Umami Chili. No ground beef in there. It was an experience in itself, to say nothing of the secret recipe ketchup, sweet and sharp with a vinegar kiss.

The food was rich and greasy, sometimes too much so, but very satisfying and for the most part uniquely flavorful.

So, does Umami oust one of the holy trinity of burger joints to take a place in the top three? At about $8-$12 per burger and $3-$4 per individual side, not quite. But with a cocktail menu that’s California fresh and fruity, alive with innovative twists, a person could do much worse for sit down burgers.

For a fresh, trendy place to take friends after a day stomping Hollywood, Umami Burger is where I’d want to end up.

Candy Virgin No More!

While organizing my pantry the other evening, I noticed a long forgotten bag of white sugar. Normally I don't use white sugar (flavor per calorie ratio is too low), but a while back I became infatuated with sugar sculpting and bought a bag. I've never made candy before, and my new hobby of sugar sculpting never got off the ground, but for some reason on that night the bag of white sugar called to me. And I said, "Yes, Sir!"

Not even food is above changes in fashion, seasons, and trends. Therefore, in tracking down some great candy know-how, I knew I had to go back in time. A recipe for something as archaic and dietarily precarious as a big chunk of hardened sugar wouldn't be hanging around in any of my newfangled cookbooks. I dug out The Fannie Farmer Cookbook, originally published in 1896, and was soon on my way to becoming a sugar goddess!

Yeah, right! This is what happen:

Candy Attempt #1: Flaky Business

I quickly found the chapter on candy making in the old Fannie Farmer and read the introduction. There was a little more to candy than I originally thought, but it didn't sound hard. After all, Frannie had tons of useful hints!

I measured the ingredients for a half batch of cashew brittle: 1/2 c sugar, 1/4 c light corn syrup, 1/4 c water. I pored them into my sauce pan and stirred. Dissolve the sugar completely before bringing the mixture to a boil, Fannie said, in order to prevent 'sugaring' (crystals that make the candy grainy). Once that occurs, according to Alton Brown on his wonderful program "Good Eats," all you can do is add more water, dissolve, and start the heating all over again.

While dissolving my sugar mixture, I began to realize that the syrup was full of tiny black flakes! Either the sugar was scraping off my pan's coating or there was something burned to the bottom of it. The mixture wasn't salvageable. Down the sink.

Candy Attempt #2: Burn, Baby, Burn!

Again I measured sugar, corn syrup, and water, into a bowl this time, and began to stir. When the sugar was finally dissolved, I pored it into my freshly scrubbed pan and turned on the heat. Fannie tip #2: I covered the mixture when it came to a boil, allowing the condensation to wash any undissolved sugar off the sides of the pan. A single undissolved sugar granule can start the dreaded 'sugaring' chain reaction. Yeck!

2.5 minutes passed. I took off the lid, and washed down the sides of the pan with water and a pastry brush (again, to protect against sugaring), managing to burn my hand in the process. Then I took the candy's temperature. I was looking for 290F. The thermometer read 265. So far so good.

As I stood there, however, something began to happen. The candy on the left side of the pan started to darken. Some caramelization, that's good. But then it got darker, and fast! I flicked on my electronic thermometer and jammed it into the candy. 315!

I killed the heat, and I cooled and tasted a strand. Burned.

I tried to make the best of it by using the opportunity to play with some sugar shapes, creating long fragile threads of candy and beautiful webs of crackling sugar. Fun, messy, and dangerous? I burned myself a couple more times on the hot candy and stabbed my hand on a stray sliver of hardened sugar as I was washing the pan out for Round 3. I started to feel more like I was in a fighting ring than a kitchen.

When the bleeding stopped I got ready to try again.

Round 3: Old Mistakes Die Hard.

This time I vowed to make it right. I measured my ingredients into the pan. No, not the pan! I didn't want any more of those black flecks in my syrup. I dumped the mixture from the pan into the mixing bowl. The sugar finally dissolved, it seemed to take forever, when I saw something in the bowl that shouldn't be there. Little flecks of burned candy had somehow gotten into the new syrup. If a single grain could cause sugaring, these chunks would cause it for sure. Dumped that batch down the sink with its brothers, re-washed the bowl and the pan, and vowed to get it right, for real this time!

Round 4: Blond is Beautiful?

Everything started out fine this time, plus I made a little discovery. If I poured the water in over the sugar before the corn syrup, it didn't take me fifteen minutes to get the granules to dissolve. I patted myself on the back for a minor victory.

I brought the candy to a boil over a more modest flame, covered it, uncovered it, washed down the sides of the pan without getting burned, and checked the temperature. 255, 260, 265, 270. So far so good. No signs of burning. 275, 280, 285, 290. No signs of burning.

No signs of browning either. Without browning the candy wouldn't have that lovely caramel taste that comes when anything gets browned and caramelized. I decide to push the temperature up into the highest reaches of the hard crack stage (a term for candy that has reached a temperature of 290F-310F).

295, 300, 305, 310.

I start to panic. The candy shouldn't go any higher. 315F burned the last batch, but this one's still pale as a winter moon.

No, I said to myself. There will be candy! I poored the anemic mixture down over the salted cashews that had been waiting all this time and left the candy to harden. The result: a mild but mostly flavorless candy. Many of the nuts didn't stick all that well and broke lose when we cracked the cooled candy.

I was out of salted nuts at that point, but I was not defeated. I would rise again! I gird myself for one more go. And this time, I would get it right!

Round 5: For Better or Worse.

I spent the next half hour shelling unsalted, roasted peanuts. I would have been done sooner, but my half-starved family kept eating the nuts as I shelled them. (Somewhere in all that mess, I kind of forgot to feed them dinner.)

Finally I had nuts. Unsalted nuts. The recipe called for salted, and I knew salt was important. It makes toffees and brittles pop with flavor. I vowed to toss a few pinches of salt into the hot candy before I poured in the peanuts. I had decided to pour the peanuts into the hot candy and give it a stir before spreading it onto the aluminum foil. Hopefully then the peanuts would stick better than the cashews had.

The result: The cold peanuts dropping into the hot candy cooled the candy too quickly. It turned into a solid lump. I pushed and pushed and stretched. Finally I had a thick, dense, but passable peanut brittle. That was when I remembered the salt.

The salt!

The candy had to have salt. It just had to. I hastily sprinkled the top of the brittle with table salt. The grains just sat on top of the hot candy. They wouldn't sink in. It was the cashews all over again! Using my finger tips, I presses as much salt as I could down into the surface of the candy. For better or worse, that was my peanut brittle.

Finally the fun part came, breaking and tasting. I let my 4-year-old step-daughter have the first break. She sliced open her thumb. The broken sugar edges were sharp as little blades, and they cut right through her baby skin. We washed and bandaged her hand, then we all tried a bite of candy. She bit her lip crunching the thick brittle. Par for the course!

Well, I still haven't made a decent batch of candy. I now realize how far I am from my goal of being a recreational sugar sculptor, and I know why my mother says she nixes any recipe with the words 'candy thermometer' in it. It was intimidating to fail over an over making something that seemed so simple. There were only 5 ingredients!

But I did learn something about myself. Apparently I don't give up all that easy. Is that courage or stupidity? It takes more than just burning me, stabbing me, burning me again several times, and cutting the ones I love to make me quit! I will make candy again! I will spin sugar nets and sticks and strings and it will be fun! Next time, yes next time, I will get it right!!!

Are you up to the challenge? Here's a similar recipie:

http://www.thenutfactory.com/kitchen/dessert/peanut-brittle.html

Go Forth Fearlessly!