But I admit I was awed by those radish rose and ‘whirligig’ frills
Mark Laba
Province
A Caterpillar Roll from Zipang Sushi. Photograph by : Gerry Kahrmann, The Province
ZIPANG SUSHI
Where: 3710 Main St.
Payment/reservations: Major credit cards, 604-708-1667
Drinks: Beer and wine
Hours: 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m., dinner, 5 p.m.-10 p.m. Tues.-Sun., closed Mon.
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I have a secret vice late at night that I engage in while the family is sleeping. Quietly I creep into the kitchen, open the vegetable crisper, then grab a paring knife and a bowl of ice water and set to work trying to make radish roses and carrot blossoms. I don’t know why I’m trying to master this art. Maybe to impress my wife on our next anniversary when I use my delicate vegetable bouquet to decorate the Big Macs that I lay out on the good china plates. Hey, I’m springing for the apple pie and a bottle of Hochtaler so I’m no cheapskate.
Nonetheless, I haven’t been meeting with much success, my radish roses and carrot blossoms looking more like something our one-year old twins have chewed and then spit up onto their bibs. So I hit this place to see how the pros do it.
I’d heard tales of the decorative garnishes adorning the sushi platters here and took along my old psychoanalyst, Dr. Boris Zongo, who is relentless in his affirmation that my previous treatments had barely scraped the bottom of the iceberg of neurosis that I attempt to ascend daily.
“Tell me more about this vegetable fetish of yours?” he asked as we sat in one of the simple black booths of this funky, retro-fitted establishment that seems no bigger than a couple of postage stamps.
“It’s not a fetish. I’m just trying to make roses out of radishes.”
“Listen my friend. I have counselled you on this very problem before. When life hands you lemons, do not make lemonade as they say. Simply take the lemons and run. They go very well in gin and tonics. Likewise radishes. Not in gin and tonics, of course, but why try to change them? Just as trying to change your own nature goes against the grain. Leave the vegetables well enough alone and you will find serenity. By the way, those are lovely carrot blossoms at the next table.”
Sure enough the sushi platter at the next table was sporting carrot blossoms and little whirligigs made of, from all appearances, daikon radish. Very nifty. We waited to see what our order would bring.
First up was an appetizer called nasu dengaku ($3.95), visually engaging as it presented an entire baked eggplant swaddled in its purplish skin, turned even darker in the baking process like a black eye and spiffed up with a sweet miso sauce. I’m not a great admirer of the eggplant species but this thing tasted like candy. Dotted with sesame seeds, cut into cubes for easy access I actually found myself enjoying it considerably.
Next was the yakitori ($3.75 for two), big hunks of skewered poultry on each spear, basted in tare sauce, which is a kind of sweetened soy with a touch of sake and mirin, and grilled to succulence. Only thing I would desire in this version is a bit more remaining glaze from the basting and a stronger grilling presence.
Moved on to the sushi rolls, complete with all the little decorations and it’s a thumbs up to the Ebichili Roll ($4.75) with tiny shrimp, avocado and spicy sauce, the Paradise Roll ($7.50), a gussied up California Roll with a topping of mango and smoked salmon and the yam tempura roll ($3.50). Just a smattering from a lengthy menu that also offers some more unique items like Japanese-style spaghetti, okonomiyaki (like the marriage of a pancake and a pizza) and the deep panko stir –rys.
I tucked a couple of the vegetable blossoms into my pocket for further study. Dr. Zongo looked at me.
“So now not just a vegetable fetishist but a kleptomaniac too. You’re sicker than I thought.”
