Five and half years ago when I first arrived in Sheboygan, the town had just upgraded from a Walmart to a Target. My first sight of Wisconsin was a long white highway cutting through endless fields of white farm land. Images from the movie Fargo and long aisles of creamed salad buffets came to mind. It felt like the town had slept too long, uninspired from lack of sunlight. Shopping at the north side Pick and Save one morning, I accidentally stumbled upon Sheboygan's culinary palate. "Excuse me, but can you tell me where your smoked salmon is located?" Confused, the boy directed me to the canned meat aisle. "You mean you don't carry smoked salmon!!!!" "We usually keep the smoked meat in the canned aisle ma'am." "You mean you've never heard of gravlax, lox....cold smoked salmon?" "The only smoked meat we have are canned ma'am." A big question entered my mind just then, but I could not articulate the breadth of this question.
This past week, a sushi restaurant openned in Sheboygan County. Not just any sushi restaurant, but Sheboygan's first sushi restaurant in its entire history. Not a gourmet restaurant by any stretch. But the first sign of modern life, a shift in time and space...baring witness to a child taking her first step from the 1980's to the 1990's. The event is no less significant here as it had been twenty years ago when sushi begin creeping into main stream dining in Southern California. Some have said that it's not a city until you have a Best Buy. Over the past five years, Sheboygan has inherited a Boston Store, several notable coffee shops, a modern local music venue, an alternative radio station, and a Best Buy. It was just a matter of time that this would happen. We just never thought that it would.
In a town where half the population prefer a taco supreme over authentic carne asada, where you're likely to meet a local who's managed to avoid the taste of shrimp their entire life unless by accident, a decent lunch crowd gather at Katana Sushi Bar and Restaurant for a bite to eat. There was an initial nervous vibe. The waitress appeared at our table embarrassingly, like a sushi virgin baring herself for the first time, wondering whether the observer would like what they see. We all felt a little exposed. Gaelle and I immediate launched into it, debating the quality of management and service. Is it appropriate to do a full sweep during mid-lunch or should we expect and accept routine spot cleaning after every diner? How long is too long to be served a glass of water? What is an acceptable minimum number of servers at mid-lunch? How much training has the staff had in customer service? I wanted to reserve judgment on the quality of service if the quality of my meal satisfied my stomach. This could be the difference between Gaelle and I. After all, it was her ancestors, the French, who invented Michelin style dining, still perserving the standard and heart of food culture. My culinary ancestors on the other hand, are more reputed for chaotic table service, questionable sanitary conditions, and tasty noodle bowls. I'm use to the grime. It's my stomach that requires satisfaction.
The lunch menu was small but sufficiently diverse to satisfy the particular appetites of most diners. There were a few curious specials that caught my attention, particularly the Korean BBQ beef stew and the fried hot dog dish (I forget the name). Wow, what exactly are we really looking at here? A sign of serious authenticity peeking through the spinach miso soup?
Yet the owner throws us a few softballs. Spinach rather than seaweed in the miso soup. Truth is, the spinach didn't take away from the flavor at all or even the expected texure. Seaweed is typically bland anyway. But, I couldn't help feeling like I was being treated to a lower denominator. God forbid they start serving bratwurst on a hot dog bun. I could still have been able to sit through the sting of a slight insult with the complementary flavors of the spinach and the broth, except that the soup was too salty. Note to self, Mr. Chef, if the miso soup becomes too dark to see the food through the broth, you've added too much soy sauce. Stop, drop and start over.
The California roll was admittedly good. The flavor of each component shined through and came together well. The roll was fat and tight, well portioned, visually appealing with real crab meat that did not taste bland or from a can. The tempura shrimp roll was surprisingly better than I'd expected also. The tempura batter was well seasoned and light, remaining fresh and crunchy throughout my hour and half meal, holding together with each dip. And well, they dared to leave the tail on. The dish came with a shriracha-mayo dipping sauce that really didn't need to be there because it didn't add to the quality or flavor of the roll. The tempura shrimp was good enough to hold up on its own lightly dipped in soysauce. Overall, the sushi was delicious, somewhere between Wholefoods' to go and Izumi's in terms of freshness and flavor. Satisfying enough to cause a slight lunch coma back at the office.
At the end of it, Gaelle and I were suprisingly pleased and happy with our meal. The price was good, the portion was good, the quality was good...two out-of-towners agree. Like water for sushi lovers, Sheboygan is beginning to feel more like home now that I've found something that connects directly to my heart. This week, we were one of first few witnesses to the evolution of a wheatfield. A plateau of grass that has dominated for generations cannot stop destiny and burried seeds of new inspiration. We want to know what else is burried deep within Sheboygan's culinary underground.
No comments:
Post a Comment