Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Nigel Slater

Quote by Nigel Slater

“A wedge of autumn melon the color of apricots with a honeyed scent you catch from three feet away. A shallow lacquered tray of rust red, laid with eight individual dishes. Yoghurt in a thin glass dish; a single teardrop of deep-red syrup and a tiny green leaf float on its surface. A deep-black raku bowl of okayu, the soft and soupy rice to gently lull us out of sleep. A triangular dish of pickled vegetables and a single umeboshi plum. A white bowl of chilled black hijiki seaweed and soybeans. A pretty dish painted with wisteria flowers of the softest, stickiest silken tofu the color of the pages of an old book, decorated with a single yellow chrysanthemum flower and a lump of fresh wasabi the size of a pea.”

Quote by Nigel Slater

Book:A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
Create image

Work

A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Nigel Slater
Nigel Slater

Nigel Slater is a distinguished British writer known for his culinary expertise and literary contributions. Born on April 9, 1958, Slater has made substantial contributions to the field of gastronomy through his cookbooks, columns, and television appearances. His work often centers on the joy of cooking and the significance of food in daily life. more

You May Also Like

“The fish on the rectangular plate are autumn ayu, salted and grilled. One of them is lightly smoked over wood chips from a mixture of cherry blossom and apple trees; the other--- with the roe--- is marinated in a yuzu-infused sauce. Feel free to garnish them with the finely chopped water-pepper leaves on the side. In the cut-glass bowl is some late-season hamo eel, in a tangy nanban-style marinade. You could sprinkle some kuro shichimi on there if you want to spice it up a little. Oh, and don't worry: All the fish is cooked right through! The Oribe bowl contains today's fried dishes: The breaded chunks of autumn eggplant and Omi beef are best paired with the miso sauce, while these two--- surf clam and vegetable tempura, and fried kuruma prawn fish balls--- will go nicely with the matcha salt. And the Karatsu cup is filled with a mixture of miniature taro, baby matsutake mushroom, red konnyaku jelly, and okra.”

SeasoningsJapanese FoodAutumnalLacquerware
Book:The Menu of Happiness
Create image

“The skewers in the top left are inspired by those colored mochi balls people like to eat at this time of year. Shrimp dumplings, baby cucumber, and quail meatballs, all speared onto a willow branch. The thick omelet next to that is the sort of tamagoyaki you'd get at a Tokyo sushi restaurant--- cooked with shrimp paste. Then you have the sawara mackerel, grilled Kyoto-style in a sweet white miso marinade, and in the small bowl below, a selection of steamed vegetables. Baby taro, Kintoki carrot, pumpkin, lotus root, and Shogoin turnip. On that tissue paper in the middle are various edible wild plants, all deep-fried: ostrich fern, butterbur buds, momiji-gasa, angelica buds, and mugwort. Those are good with a bit of matcha salt, or you might want to try dipping them in Worcestershire-style sauce in that little pot. To the left of that, wrapped in the green bamboo leaf, is cherry-bass sushi, while the small bowl next to that is flash-boiled Omi beef, with a ponzu vinegar gelée.”

VegetablesHerbsRecommendationsJapanese FoodSurf And Turf
Book:The Menu of Happiness
Create image

“He drained his first cup of sake, then maneuvered his chopsticks toward their first destination: the thick shrimp-paste omelet. Layered and rolled into a fragrant cakelike sponge, it was an irresistible combination of savory and sweet--- just the way Takayuki liked it. Next, he began loosening the various elements from the willow skewer and popping them into his mouth. The shrimp dumplings were succulent, the salted cucumber refreshing, and the quail meatballs--- which included the soft bones ground up in the paste--- dense with rich flavor.”

Japanese FoodOmeletSkewers
Book:The Menu of Happiness
Create image

“What Ed's family rely on are the heavy, hearty meals that are cheap to make but full of sustenance. Rich, golden yakisoba, often more noodles than meat. Yolky omurice filled to bursting with fried rice, the copious carbohydrates leaving his belly stretched. Or even donburi, thrown together using whatever leftovers they have at the end of the week, Ed's favorite being pork cutlet, the chewy fat sliding down to rest in his gut before bed.”

HeartyJapanese FoodConvenience Store
Book:Greedy
Create image

“For my first home-cooked meal in Tokyo, I took an assortment of beautiful Japanese ingredients and did what came naturally: I made Chinese food. I stir-fried some beautifully marbled kurobuta (Berkshire breed) pork with bok choy, ginger, and leeks, sauced it with soy sauce, mirin, and vinegar, and served it over rice, sprinkled with shichimi tōgarashi seven-spice mixture. This seemed like a reasonable act of Japanese-Chinese fusion. I made some quick-pickled cucumbers on the side. This was before we discovered that anything you do to a Japanese cucumber diminishes it. I should have known this; once I interviewed a Japanese-American farmer who grows more than a hundred Asian vegetables in Washington state. Naturally, I asked him about his personal favorite. Cucumber, he said. "How do you prepare it?" I asked. "Slice and eat." The whole meal was about the same as something I'd make at home, but I cooked it in Japan. It was like the SpongeBob SquarePants episode where SpongeBob has to work the night shift at the Krusty Krab, and he keeps saying things like, "I'm chopping lettuce... at night!" I was slicing cucumbers... in Tokyo!”

Japanese FoodChinese FoodCucumbersHomecookingSpongebob SquarepantsStirfry
Book:Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo
Create image

“As I tried various restaurants, certain preconceptions came crashing down. I realized not all Japanese food consisted of carefully carved vegetables, sliced fish, and clear soups served on black lacquerware in a highly restrained manner. Tasting okonomiyaki (literally, "cook what you like"), for example, revealed one way the Japanese let their chopsticks fly. Often called "Japanese pizza," okonomiyaki more resembles a pancake filled with chopped vegetables and your choice of meat, chicken, or seafood. The dish evolved in Osaka after World War II, as a thrifty way to cobble together a meal from table scraps. A college classmate living in Kyoto took me to my first okonomiyaki restaurant where, in a casual room swirling with conversation and aromatic smoke, we ordered chicken-shrimp okonomiyaki. A waitress oiled the small griddle in the center of our table, then set down a pitcher filled with a mixture of flour, egg, and grated Japanese mountain yam made all lumpy with chopped cabbage, carrots, scallions, bean sprouts, shrimp, and bits of chicken. When a drip of green tea skated across the surface of the hot meal, we poured out a huge gob of batter. It sputtered and heaved. With a metal spatula and chopsticks, we pushed and nagged the massive pancake until it became firm and golden on both sides. Our Japanese neighbors were doing the same. After cutting the doughy disc into wedges, we buried our portions under a mass of mayonnaise, juicy strands of red pickled ginger, green seaweed powder, smoky fish flakes, and a sweet Worcestershire-flavored sauce. The pancake was crispy on the outside, soft and savory inside- the epitome of Japanese comfort food. Another day, one of Bob's roommates, Theresa, took me to a donburi restaurant, as ubiquitous in Japan as McDonald's are in America. Named after the bowl in which the dish is served, donburi consists of sticky white rice smothered with your choice of meat, vegetables, and other goodies. Theresa recommended the oyako, or "parent and child," donburi, a medley of soft nuggets of chicken and feathery cooked egg heaped over rice, along with chopped scallions and a rich sweet bouillon. Scrumptious, healthy, and prepared in a flash, it redefined the meaning of fast food.”

Japanese FoodToppingsOkonomiyakiDonburi
Book:Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto
Create image

“What to eat? You've crossed a dozen time zones to get here and you want to make every meal count. Do you start at an izakaya, a Japanese pub, and eat raw fish and grilled chicken parts and fried tofu, all washed down with a river of cold sake? Do you seek out the familiar nourishment of noodles- ramen, udon, soba- and let the warmth and beauty of this cuisine slip gloriously past your lips? Or maybe you wade into the vast unknown, throw yourself entirely into the world of unfamiliar flavors: a bowl of salt-roasted eel, a mound of sticky fermented soybeans, a nine-course kaiseki feast.”

UnfamiliarTokyoNoodlesJapanese FoodJapanese Cuisine
Book:Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture
Create image

“Go out the north exit of Nakano Station and into the Sun Mall shopping arcade. After a few steps, you'll see Gindaco, the takoyaki (octopus balls) chain. Turn right into Pretty Good #1 Alley. Walk past the deli that specializes in okowa (steamed sticky rice with tasty bits), a couple of ramen shops, and a fugu restaurant. Go past the pachinko parlor, the grilled eel stand, the camera shops, and the stairs leading to Ginza Renoir coffee shop. If you see the bicycle parking lot in front of Life Supermarket, you're going the right way. During the two-block walk through a typical neighborhood, you've passed more good food than in most midsized Western cities, even if you don't love octopus balls as much as I do. Welcome to Tokyo. Tokyo is unreal. It's the amped-up, neon-spewing cyber-city of literature and film. It's an alley teeming with fragrant grilled chicken shops. It's children playing safely in the street and riding the train across town with no parents in sight. It's a doughnut chain with higher standards of customer service than most high-end restaurants in America. A colossal megacity devoid of crime, grime, and bad food? Sounds more like a utopian novel than an earthly metropolis.”

TokyoJapanese FoodOctopusTakoyaki
Book:Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo
Create image

“Don't get me wrong- tempura is served as a side dish in Tokyo, too, especially at soba and udon restaurants. Step into a branch of of the Hanamaru Udon chain, and before you select your bowl of noodles you're confronted with an array of self-serve, a la carte tempura: eggplant, onion, and squash, yes, but also hard-boiled quail eggs on a stick, squid tentacles, or a whole baby octopus. And the way most diners eat their tempura strains the definition of "side dish," because they plunk the crispy morsels right into their noodle broth. Japanese cooks are experts at frying food to a crisp and equally adept at ruining that crispy perfection through dunking, saucing, and refrigeration. I never learned to appreciate a stone-cold, once-crispy pork cutlet, but I enjoy tempura falling apart in hot soup and eaten at the moment when it has taken on broth but maintains a hint of crispness. The ship has hit the iceberg, but it's still momentarily afloat.”

Japanese FoodSide DishTempuraDeep Fried
Book:Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo
Create image