Dish:

In the bowl: From the menu: “buck wheat noodle salad with mixed vegetables, hardboiled egg and spicy vinaigrette.” Those vegetables include shredded cabbage, red onion, cucumber, bean sprouts, kaiware (daikon sprouts), and maybe some microgreens.

Supporting cast/What to do: Some of the dishes at Cha:n, like the bibimbap and grilled short rib, come with a runny egg, requiring a mix of what’s in the bowl before eating. That’s not the case with the buckwheat salad, which is ready to roll.

Noodling around: This cold noodle salad is light and refreshing, and particularly appealing as a dish to enjoy during warm weather. Buckwheat noodles are a healthy choice for many reasons. For example, they contain a nutrient called rutin, an antioxidant that protects against high blood pressure and cholesterol. They’re also an excellent source of magnesium, providing further cardiovascular benefits.

Part of the lightness of this dish is that there simply aren’t a lot of noodles. But the greens are good, and the sesame seeded egg halves add substance. The vinaigrette has slight bite to it, but isn’t especially spicy.

Word is that the owner is going for a more Westernized, fusioned version of Korean food, mellow on the spice level, as he doesn’t want to scare people away from Korean food. While I appreciate the local ingredients and clean flavors, the food doesn’t pack the punch that I typically enjoy about Korean food.

So Cha:n is not going for spiciness, and not going for authentic. As a result, I predict that most Korean food lovers are not going to Cha:n. My tablemates said they’ll continue to go north to Shoreline and Lynnwood or south to Federal Way to find bolder Korean food.

If you want more: The question is not “If?” You’ll want more. Portion sizes at Cha:n are small.

Korean food calls for banchan, so I would normally recommend the banchan sampler of assorted vegetables ($3). But the plate startled me. Banchan is free at most other Korean restaurants (typically with free refills), while here you pay for dollhouse portions. (BCD Tofu House, for example, gives a half-dozen or more banchan dishes, including a whole fried fish.) The shishito peppers are a nice touch, but the other items are slim pickings.

Having parked in front of Le Pichet, I was tempted to stop in for a rich chocolate chaud before leaving downtown.

Be aware/beware: This is the second restaurant in recent months to include a colon in its four-letter name. U:Don’s colon creates a smile. Cha:n’s creates a question mark.

The jewel-box space is beautiful, and the location is ideal for people looking for a place to go while near Pike Place Market. But Cha:n seems better framed as a bar than a restaurant, as the small plates are more like accompaniments for cocktails and other liquid consumables than components of a dining destination. In this sense, I’d include Cha:n as a Korean entry to my concern about new Asian restaurants in Seattle.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on May 21, 2012.

Dish:

In the bowl: Rice vermicelli noodles, bamboo shoots, fried shallots and peanuts, and Thai basil.

Supporting cast/What to do: Along with your soup, you get a plate of cold duck pieces (on the bone), shredded cabbage, more fried shallots and peanuts, Thai basil, and a small bowl of ginger fish sauce (nuoc mam gung). You can use the sauce as a dip, or pour it over the duck and cabbage, eating your “salad” at whatever intervals you like along with your soup.

Noodling around: Sub Sand is a friendly little restaurant, where the owner is quite happy to explain any of the dishes on the menu. When I was torn between the two duck noodle dishes, he explained that the “herbel duck egg noodle soup” is made with thick noodles in a chicken broth that includes soy sauce, with the duck fried and in the bowl. I realized that this is basically the same dish I had at Hue Ky Mi Gia at the end of last year, which is why I instead opted for the equally typo-ed “bamboo shot duck noodle soup.”

This soup has a simple and comforting chicken broth flavor to it, with the noodles soft and slurpable. The fried shallots and peanuts add crunch, and the basil boosts the broth welcome herbal notes. My favorite part, though, are the bamboo shoots. The recipe calls for dried bamboo, which have more complex flavor and a chewy texture which I enjoy.

I especially like the bamboo shoot duck noodle soup because of the salad on the side. The duck, which the owner says is steamed, is somewhat fatty, which lends flavor. And the ginger fish sauce is superb, the ginger rounding out and slightly rising above the sweet, salty, spicy, and sour aspects of the sauce. It’s perfect on both meat and vegetables.

I did notice that I was thirsty after the meal, so I suspect there’s MSG in the food. If it wasn’t in the duck soup, it might have been in my partner’s “Crab Past Noodle Soup,” which isn’t something from history, but instead made with crab paste.

If you want more: Sub Sand offers few appetizers, a number of spring rolls, and various salads, but given the name, I wanted to try a sandwich. You’ll pay considerably more for a banh mi sandwich here than at the nearby Vietnamese delis, but my BBQ pork sub ($3.99) was delicious, even if it had a few nontraditional ingredients, like lettuce.

Be aware/beware: This is a family0run restaurant, so you might see children playing in the dining area, curling up in the front window, or watching a video on the computer while sprawled in a booth.

More of a problem, though, were the utensils, or in honor of Sub Sand’s name, what I’ll shorten to “utens.” The metal chopsticks, similar to what you’ll find in many Korean restaurants, are thin, and not conducive to picking up slippery vermicelli noodles. I’m generally skilled with ’sticks, but with these had an uphill battle throughout the meal.

Even worse are the black, plastic soup spoons. One design cut enables them to stand upright against the bowl, keeping them from sliding in the soup. That’s smart. But while they’re smooth on one of the long sides, they’ve got slots on the opposite side to supposedly help catch noodles. Instead, these slots create chaos as noodles and other bits hang down off of them, slapping food into the face of unsuspecting diners. Worse, if you’re right-handed, the slots create an uncomfortable feeling on the lips when you’re trying to drink from the spoon. Distracting and disconcerting.

I won’t hesitate to say that Sub Sand has the worst utens I’ve ever used at a restaurant.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on May 14, 2012.

Dish:

On the plate: From the menu: “Thin egg noodles with beef, garlic, and sweet chili sauce.” You’ll also notice bamboo shoots, onions, carrots, water chestnuts, celery, and green onions on the plate.

Supporting cast/What to do: You’ll find soy sauce and chili pepper sauce on your table, but you’ll likely need neither. The noodles are saucy and hearty, to the point where you might want to order something more. (See below.)

Noodling around: Lucky 8’s is a new restaurant that’s been open since the start of the year. The feel is both retro and contemporary, full of fun especially when kung fu movies play on the wall.

I tried both shrimp lo mein and chicken chow mein, but my main focus was the sweet and spicy beef noodles, which uses fresh lo mein noodles made in the International District and available at Hau Hau market. The noodles include a generous portion of tender beef, along with a good mix of vegetables. The sauce is made with Szechuan hot bean paste, vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, and rice wine–and is spiked with red chili flakes.

This hearty, “masculine” dish reminds me of zha jiang mian, which benefits from sliced cucumber to cut through the intensity. While celery serves that purpose in Lucky 8’s beef noodles, the dish is bold and powerful–perhaps too strong as an entrée for some diners. When my partner said she could envision a smaller portion with a bowl of rice, we learned that the chef sometimes serves just the meat and sauce over rice as a meal. I suspect the dish might be modified a bit during the warmer months ahead.

If you want more: There are some interesting options on the menu, particularly in the section of starters. My partner really liked the house-made, braised pork bao ($5.95 for 2).The relatively thin dough is not as bready as most (a good thing!), and the dip of bean sauce sports bold flavor. Meanwhile, I indulged in Szechuan spareribs ($5.95), a Flintstones-type of affair. The big ribs are slathered in a bright and spicy sauce of Szechuan hot bean paste, soy sauce, and vinegar–cashing in the chef’s North Carolina roots–and the accompanying house-made pickled vegetables bring balance to the dish.

Be aware/beware: Lucky 8’s exceeded my expectations. Critical of many of the new Asian restaurants in Capitol Hill (and beyond) that claim authenticity, I was worried that Lucky 8’s American-Chinese classics would disappoint me. But the goal seems to be to make recognizable dishes in a bold way, which I applaud. I didn’t get to try the apparently popular fried rice or General Lucky Tsao’s chicken, but aside from the spring rolls, which are never my favorite, the other items I tried were interesting and delicious.

That said, be sure to ask about what’s not on the menu.

Lucky 8’s often has some specials. If you’re lucky, you’ll find duck dumplings. Pan-fried like pot-stickers, they’re done in two different wrappers, making for a pretty presentation. The dipping sauce contains teriyaki sauce, soy sauce, and orange juice/zest.

Also not on the menu but a refreshing finale: a scoop of Bluebird chocolate ice cream dusted with matcha powder, topped with puffed rice, and boosted by a little Cointreau.

And how about this: Home delivery is available in proximity by bicycle.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on May 7, 2012.

A closer look at Lucky 8’s China House:

Lucky’s 8’s interior

Braised pork bao

Szechuan spareribs

Sweet and spicy beef noodles

Duck dumplings

Bluebird chocolate ice cream with matcha powder, puffed rice, and Cointreau

Dish:

In the bowl: From the menu: “Noodle soup with chicken or vegetables, peas and herbs.” Clarification coming, below.

Supporting cast/What to do: You can choose between chicken or vegetables. The latter will be one dollar less than the price above. Your server will ask your desired spice level, from one to five.

Noodling around: The Everest Kitchen serves “foods from the top of the world”–specifically India, Nepal, and Tibet. I know where those countries are, but I’m not really sure where The Everest Kitchen is located. The official address says Seattle, but some references show Shoreline. Two things are for sure: It’s on Bothell Way, north of Lake City. And it’s across from a Déjà Vu gentlemen’s club.

When the showgirls get hungry, thukpa could be a perfect meal for them. The server might not be able to describe the dish due to limited English, but I’ll try my best.

This is no ordinary soup. While I’ve heard of thukpas with clear broth, this one is red in color, and bold in flavor. I eventually spoke with the owner about the seasoning, and he said the flavor comes from onion, ginger, garlic, fenugreek, and something he called “corn pepper.” He explained that while you can find this pepper, which looks like black pepper (perhaps it’s simply peppercorn?), in the International District, it will have no flavor. Better to get it directly, harvested from the jungles of Nepal.

There are nice pieces of dark meat chicken in the soup, but none of the promised peas. That was actually okay with me. Instead, I enjoyed green and red bell peppers, red onions, cabbage, and cilantro.

No one could explain the type of noodles. Best I could determine, they are dried, spaghetti-like noodles, cooked to a soft texture in the soup.

If you want more: One can easily make the case for momos (Tibetan dumplings) to accompany the soup, and that wouldn’t be a bad choice. Same for some naan, of which Everest Kitchen serves a number of varieties. But I’m going to recommend the saag paneer ($9.95). Like the other dishes I tried, this seemed to be made to order–a nice portion of lightly steamed spinach in light cream with homemade (paneer) cheese and some assertive spices. It’s perfect with basmati rice, or some of that naan.

Be aware/beware: Lunch service is buffet style. While this makes for a fast meal and enables you to taste more items, I highly recommend ordering off the menu for the freshest food. Despite my server’s lack of English, service was appropriately attentive. When the owner learned that we ordered goat curry, he warned that it would take about 45 minutes to cook, and asked if we still wanted it. We did, and found it a little tough, whereas more time would have made it more tender. But that was the only mishap of my meal.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 30, 2012.

On the heels of my return from Tokyo

And now Bo Ramen hits the scene, starting this week. At the helm is Bo Maisano, who’s been fine-tuning ramen recipes for many months. (Disclosure: I’ve been part of his test panel, seeing and tasting the evolution of his ramen, though I’ve yet to try the latest incarnations.) Ahead of his first ramen pop-up on May 1, I had a chance to talk with Bo about his newfound passion.

How might Seattleites know you from pre-ramen days?

I opened The Tin Table in Capitol Hill most recently, spent time in Madison Park Cafe doing country French, and ran 1200 Bistro back in 2007.

How did you get hooked on ramen?

I read about ramen in Lucky Peach magazine and made it. It was amazing to me. Fresh noodles, fresh broth, and new additions—and I was hooked. I then went out to Boom Noodle and Samurai Noodle to check out their bowls and it only furthered my obsession.

What draws you to cooking ramen?

The pursuit of the perfect bowl. I love each part of the bowl: noodles, broth, pork and add-ons. Each has its part in the whole, and it all has to balance.

How have you been learning the process? What resources have you tapped into?

Making many bowls and having experienced ramen friends guiding my path. I still search books, online recipes and blogs looking for a new spin or technique.

What’s the hardest challenge in preparing ramen?

Consistency as I continually perfect my method. The noodles have been a real learning experience. Learning the ingredients in the Asian markets has been a lot of fun also. This ramen path has been a real humbling experience, steering me out of my comfort zone. It’s very invigorating.

How do you see yourself putting your own spin on ramen?

I’d like to figure out how to add in some different ingredients and cooking styles (tapping into my New Orleans roots) without breaking the integrity of the bowl.

Any favorite ramen bowls/places you’ve found in Seattle? What’s your favorite type of ramen?

I am a fan of Boom and Samurai, as well as Boke Bowl in Portland. I really feel I should get around more. So far, my favorite bowl is shoyu because I like the soy saltiness, stock sweetness, noodle creaminess, and fatty mouthfeel.

How are your slurping skills?

They are okay. It’s not a skill that was ingrained in youth. It is the best way to eat/taste the broth. I’m still new and getting better at it.

What would you like a diner’s experience at Bo Ramen to be like?

A good one, hopefully. I feel I am serving up a decent ramen and want to share that with many of my friends who are new to this beautiful meal in a bowl. I am serving a traditional shoyu ramen bowl and a user-friendly miso bowl that include both a seafood version and a vegetarian version. I am working on other add-ons, like braised belly and shredded smoked shoulder. I have yam noodles for the gluten-free folks also. I have to start small so that I don’t overextend myself.

What do you see as the future of Bo Ramen?

I hope these pop-ups are a success as I would like to open a brick-and-mortar location. I have a tonkotsu bowl that I will feature later, and there are a number of summer noodle bowls that I’d like to do as well. I’ll also do gyoza, and buns filled with braised belly and pickled vegetables. Those buns are something special that I could eat everyday along with a great bowl of noodles.

Bo Ramen debuts at Skelly and the Bean on May 1 and 8 from 5:30 pm to 9:00 pm. Walk-ins are welcome as long as supply lasts, or you can pre-purchase a bowl of shoyu, miso shrimp, or miso veggie ramen. You can also try the ramen at Geraldine’s Counter on May 5 and 19 from 5:30 pm to 9:00 pm, either by walk-in or reservation via the GC website. And get the latest about Bo Ramen via Facebook or Twitter.

Dish:

On the plate: Two types of noodles, which require a close inspection to see. Onions, green onions, carrots, bean sprouts. Shrimp, which are presumably not the intended salted fish, with the chicken missing in action.

Supporting cast/What to do: There’s soy sauce and chili sauce around if you need it. But there might not be a server around if you need one. And you’ll likely need one.

Noodling around: I originally placed my order for “needle noodles,” as these rat’s tail-like rice noodles are relatively hard to find in Seattle. The server was very excited, saying they’re a house specialty, but just as the first dishes were about to arrive, she said they were unavailable.

The vermicelli and rice sticker combination was therefore my second choice, even though I didn’t know what “rice sticker” was. The server said it’s similar to vermicelli, but thicker. Or did she say sticker? Or stickier? Even after repeating, I was still unsure. Nevertheless, two types of noodles in one dish appealed to me.

As did salted fish.

When the dish arrived, it looks like a mass of vermicelli noodles. Only after closer inspection did I notice a somewhat clearer noodle intertwined with the rice ones. They looked almost like thin glass noodles, though the server had said something about tapioca starch. Both noodles were delicate, with a very mild soy sauce flavor. The noodle action was interrupted by occasional bits of carrot, yellow and green onion, and bean sprouts.

But, sadly, no salted fish or chicken. Just shrimp. At that point in the meal, we had stopped questioning, and just kept eating. Plus, our server had disappeared.

If she had been around, we would have asked her what filling was inside the pot stickers. It was impossible to discern whether the meat was chicken or pork. Regardless, the pot stickers were poorly constructed and cooked. In the words of one of my dining companions, “These are the worst pot stickers I’ve ever had.”

In fact, the whole meal was bland. Hong Kong-style is typically Cantonese, though with other influences–including other types of Chinese, and Western. I often find Cantonese food bland, but LA Café’s was exceedingly so. You might want to scour the menu and roll the dice on something different. Club sandwich, anyone?

If you want more: Given the state of the pot stickers, I’m not sure what else I’d recommend. Maybe try for the French fries ($2.99) or the French toast ($3.49).

Be aware/beware: LA Café in inside the Pacific Rim Center, a destination that has always felt a bit depressing. If you want some stimulation, though, I’ve heard good things about the foot massage place. No needles there, either, but reasonable rates and strong service.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 23, 2012.

Dish:

In the bowl: You’ll see slightly yellowish egg noodles topped with little bits of ground pork and thin slices of green onion. The chili sauce is at the bottom of the bowl.

Supporting cast/What to do: It’s all there, in the bowl. What’s important is to mix as soon and thoroughly as possible before the noodles harden and congeal, as the sauce will have settled to the bottom of the bowl. And I do mean thorough. There’s not a lot of meat and sauce, so you’ll want to go for good distribution.

Noodling around: There are many recipes for dan dan noodles. Even Fuchsia Dunlop’s Sichuanese cookbook, Land of Plenty, has two versions–one made with pork, the other with beef. I much prefer pork, just as Bamboo Garden serves the noodles.

But unlike Dunlop’s, Bamboo Garden’s dan dan noodles are rather simple. The server explained that the only ingredients are the noodles, pork, green onions, and chili oil. I suspect there might be a little more to the chili sauce, and thought I detected a slightly gritty texture to the noodles (which made me wonder if there was perhaps a little sesame paste), but the sauce wasn’t terribly complex, and I didn’t find any preserved vegetables, peanuts, or other typical ingredients to the dish.

The noodles themselves were good, with good taste and texture. Dan dan is a dish I make frequently at home, and I’m always trying them with different types of noodles, including egg.

What you can always count on at Bamboo Garden is heat, and this dish has it. Lots of la, or spice, but in this case no ma, which is the numbness that comes from Sichuan peppercorns.

If you want more: Go for one of the cold appetizers, like the sour and spicy jellyfish ($6.95), rabbit chunks in chili oil ($8.95) if you’re seeking more meat, or fava beans in chili oil ($5.95). Note, yes, that they all are spicy, as most of the cold appetizers have chili oil or chili sauce. If that’s too much heat, then maybe get a watermelon smoothie ($3.25) to cool down your mouth.

Be aware/beware: Do not get this place mixed up with Bamboo Garden in Queen Anne. The Queen Anne restaurant is vegetarian, and while I did enjoy my noodle dish there last week and my vegetarian experience at Araya’s the week before, my heart is with restaurants that serve things like, well, heart. Bellevue’s Bamboo Garden has a “Take a Walk on Wild Side” menu that contains a lot of the dishes–the good stuff–that you’d normally find only on the Chinese menu. I like that Bamboo Garden encourages diners to experiment and try a new dish or two as part of the dining experience. On this menu, you’ll find some of my favorites, like Swimming Fire Fish, Sliced Pork Kidneys in a Tangy Broth, and The Other Parts of a Pig.

In case you’re working, dan is Chinese for a bamboo shoulder pole. Dan dan noodles was once the classic street food of Chengdu, with workers essentially carrying their kitchens on the poles while calling out “dan dan mian” to attract customers.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 16, 2012.

Dish:

On the plate: Per the menu: “pan-fried thin noodles with mixed vegetables, sausage, and chicken.” That description will warrant further explanation.

Supporting cast/What to do: Dig in. There’s no option for spice level when ordering. You’ll find chili sauce on the table, but as much as I like heat, I don’t see this as a dish that needs to be made spicy. Enjoy the noodles as they are, getting some “meat” and/or vegetables in each chopstick pull.

Noodling around: Much like Christmas, I find Easter to be an ideal day to go to a Chinese restaurant. And since it was also Passover weekend (and I’d just written about Japanese food and kosher sex), I was intrigued by the idea of a Chinese restaurant that keeps kosher–certified by Va’ad HaRabanim of Greater Seattle. A place where “only the fortune cookies contain eggs.”

This is how I found myself for the first time at Bamboo Garden, just down the hill from my home in Queen Anne. As a meat-lover, I’d long-avoided this vegetarian restaurant, but given the good experience I described in last week’s write-up of Araya’s Vegetarian Place, I thought I’d give it a try.

Bamboo Garden shares a gentle evangelism with Araya’s. The first thing I noticed was a sign that read, “If animals could speak we would all be vegetarians.”

The sausage and chicken in my noodle dish? Vegetable protein products. (Basically soy, the server said.) With the oil being 100% vegetable, the menu claims that the dishes have no cholesterol.

I must say that I missed the textures of real meat, especially the lesser-loved cuts like tripe and intestines. (I’ll get to that next week when I report on the area’s other Bamboo Garden.) But while the chicken was bland and the sausage had just some seasoning to it, I really liked the dish overall. In comparison to the ten ingredient sautéed rice thread noodles which bored me at the nearby Uptown China, these noodles were bursting with flavor.

Contributing well were the vegetables: onion, carrot, bean sprouts, snow peas, celery, and napa cabbage. Good balance, with nothing dominating.

The dish reminded me of the take-out lo mein of my younger days–though that had the bright red roast pork that I’d much prefer over any of these fake meats. And lo mein it is. I’m not sure why they call it chow mein; chow means fried, with the noodles cooked crispy and usually topped with choice of ingredients and sauce. Lo means tossed or mixed. The thin wheat noodles (usually fresh, and usually containing egg–which means there might be eggs in more than just the fortune cookies at Bamboo Garden) are parboiled and then stir-fried in a wok with the other ingredients. They develop a pleasing texture and absorb the sauce, in this case adding soy sauce flavor.

My dining companion and I also tried pan-fried rice noodles with mixed vegetables in hot spicy Szechwan sauce (chow fun). We decided to skip the fake meat with hope of getting a larger quantity of real vegetables. We also wanted to enjoy wide rice noodles, which really soak up the starchy sauce (speckled with fake ground beef–or was that pork?), and to see if Bamboo Garden would deliver on heat–which it did when we requested five on the 1-5 spice scale.

If you want more: The appetizers are virtually all fried (the only exception: you can opt to have your potstickers steamed), so I’d look to the soup menu, perhaps trying the deluxe kernel corn soup ($3.95 for a pint) or the creamy corn chowder (an additional nickel at $4.00 for a pint) for something different.

Be aware/beware: Again, this is a vegetarian restaurant, so keep that in mind. The shark fin is not shark fin, and the eel is not eel–which may be good things, given sustainable seafood issues. On the other hand, I would hesitate to try something like General Tso’s chicken (or one of the more authentic chicken dishes), as I just can’t imagine a pleasing texture.

A couple of pluses: There’s a dedicated room for private dining, perfect for a party of 10. And as a bonus in busy lower Queen Anne, Bamboo Garden has its own private parking lot. The restaurant actually runs cameras on the lot and monitors activity at the cashier stand.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 9, 2012.

Just over a month ago, I enjoyed a terrific soba dinner that popped up at Nook, a place better known for biscuits. There, the soba was served warm, in broth with duck or oysters.

This past weekend, the soba was cold (intentionally!) when Kappo Sushi Tamura opened its doors to Chef Mutsuko Soma, who treated lucky customers to a pop-up lunch. Soma, former chef at Chez Shea, is passionate about soba, and even brought a stone grinder to show how much labor is involved in making flour from the buckwheat seeds. I was surprised to learn that it takes two hours of grinding to produce enough flour for ten portions of noodles.

What you might not know is that there’s so much buckwheat in our own backyard. Washington is the biggest grower of buckwheat in the States, with virtually all of it exported to Japan. But Soma gets some from farmer Darrel Otness, who himself would like to see more soba consumption on this side of the Pacific.

Using Otness’ seeds, Soma prepares a “nihachi” (two-eight) flour, consisting of twenty percent white flour and eighty percent buckwheat. She explained that it’s possible to do one hundred percent buckwheat, but she prefers the texture of her formula. In the other direction, cheap soba shops in Japan do a fifty/fifty formula to save money and add longevity to the life of the noodles, while dry noodles tend to be only thirty percent buckwheat and seventy percent white flour.

Grinding the buckwheat seeds is just one part of the noodle-making process. There’s no pasta machine in Soma’s noodle studio. Per tradition, she uses a rolling pin and a soba knife to cut the noodles with thin precision.

At the pop-up, Soma served zaru-soba, which is my favorite way to experience the buckwheat flavor and aroma. A pile of soba sits on the tray (the zaru). You place some negi (the real thing, far better but more expensive than green onion, which you typically find in its place in Seattle) and wasabi in your tsuyu (soy bonito sauce), stirring to mix. Next, grab some soba noodles with your chopsticks, dip them into the sauce, and then slurp them up. Nice, clean flavors—and a dish that’s so refreshing, especially in warm weather.

Lunch ($25) came with a first course of tsukemono (assorted pickles, in this case very delicately marinated) and nimono—a stew of braised beef shoulder, vegetables, and a tangle of shirataki noodles. After the soba noodles, there was a chance to add sobayu, the cooking broth of the soba, into the remaining tsuyu. This results in a warm treat that’s delicious, and which recaptures the nutrients and vitamins that the soba leaves behind in the water.

Lastly, there was dessert, soba-style: warabi mochi (more jelly-like than chewy) with soba jelly, kinako (roasted soy powder) vanilla ice cream, and kuromitsu—a bitter, molasses-like syrup that I love.

Soma sees a soba shop in Seattle’s future. Touting the taste and the health benefits of buckwheat noodles, she hopes to open her own restaurant by the end of the year. Seattle’s got ramen and recently its first dedicated udon shop, so it’s exciting to see that soba is on the horizon.

Grinding the buckwheat (photo courtesy of Binah Yeung)

Kneading the dough (photo courtesy of Binah Yeung)

Rolling the dough (photo courtesy of Binah Yeung)

Cutting the noodles (photo courtesy of Binah Yeung)

The soba course, at last

Mutsuko Soma shows off her soba noodles

Dish:

On the plate: Per the menu: “Classic Thai spicy wide rice noodles stir-fried in garlic & chili with veggies beef, Portabello and other mushrooms.” The other mushrooms are shiitake and white button mushrooms, and there’s also red and green bell pepper, asparagus, and fried Thai basil.

Supporting cast/What to do: You’ll be asked how spicy you want the dish, but the dishes are less spicy than promised. This surprised me, since Araya’s was features on Food Network’s Heat Seekers as a “Thai restaurant with dishes that bring all comers to their knees.” Be prepared, then, to request the special plate with spoons of spices so that you can raise the roof on the heat.

Noodling around: Drunken mushrooms features one of my favorite noodles: wide rice noodles. They’re fresh and essentially flash-cooked in the wok to warm them through, with their wideness keeping them a prominent part of the dish. Their size enables them to absorb flavors and carry the sauce–and they still have the chew that sometimes gets lost in thinner noodles.

In this preparation, mushrooms are a key to the flavor. As Araya’s is a vegetarian restaurant, recipes are non-dairy, non-egg, and non-fish sauce. Mushroom sauce substitutes for fish sauce, though this dish also uses sweet soy sauce to impart flavor. Fried Thai basil is nice touch, adding both flavor and texture. And it’s nicely plated, with asparagus artfully arranged.

I was told that “veggies beef” is, as you may have guessed, “fake veggie meat.” I’ve never been a big fan of just throwing this in a dish, but understand if it’s a protein source and an alternative texture.

My only disappointment, as mentioned above, was the spice level. “Mortar-and-pestled” chili peppers (and garlic) should have provided powerful heat, as shown in the Heat Seekers segment. I much prefer to have the chilis cooked into the dish than having to add it in myself–especially if I’ve requested a high spice level.

If you want more: There are many appetizers, but especially if you have company, I recommend the avocado curry ($13.95). I cook a lot of Thai curry, but this is the first time I’ve had it with avocado–and I was pleasantly surprised how well it worked in the dish. This is a green curry, in which you’ll find both soft and fried tofu, more of that veggie beef, bell peppers, Thai basil, and something called “bean composition,” which is apparently made from variations of soy bean.

Be aware/beware: I ended up here after trying to get into OK Noodles, which was surprisingly closed on a Friday night. (Many others encountered a closed restaurant recently, but it’s reopened with new owners, and I featured it in last week’s Mein Man.) So, for those wondering, this is how I found myself in a vegetarian restaurant. I was skeptical at first, but ultimately pleased with the quality and creativity. Araya’s has a way with cooking vegetables. Now, if they’d just boost those spice levels…

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 2, 2012.