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Quote by Emil Zippo

“Emil Zippo is a food lover. We have always endeavored to bring our customers a wide variety of fresh produce at the best possible price, and in recent years we've expanded our offering.”

Quote by Emil Zippo

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Emil Zippo

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“The two of us begin assembling pulled pork sandwiches from the ingredients in the containers, layering the jalapeño-lime slaw on top of piles of chipotle pork and capping it off with a fluffy white bun. The sandwiches are smoky and spicy, with a slight tang from the slaw, and we wash them down with hefty swigs of our full-bodied porter. Between bites, Jeremy hands me a fork and the container of Yukon gold and purple potato salad, which we pass back and forth until there is nothing left but a few scallions in a pool of mustard-laced vinaigrette.”

SandwichesPicnicPotato Salad
Book:A Second Bite at the Apple
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“When she taught me the recipe, Makiko told me that her potato salad tasted the best when you used a potato variety called Destroyer. As implied by its name, these potatoes have a sinister look to them. They are marked with red patches, reminiscent of a pro wrestler's mask, hence the name. After comparing many different varieties, Makiko fell in love with the rich, full-bodied flavor, so much so that for a while she even contemplated growing them on her veranda. In the Kanto region, Destroyer potatoes aren't a common variety. Unlike Danshaku or May Queen potatoes, they're rarely distributed in the markets unless it's early summer. One night, after Makiko kept on shouting "I want some Destroyer potatoes!" at the bar, one of her customers drunkenly started to call her "Makiko the Destroyer." From then on, the nickname took on a life of its own, and that was apparently how rumors of "Makiko the Destroyer of Sangenjaya" began to spread.”

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Book:The Ex-Boyfriend's Favorite Recipe Funeral Committee
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“I pass the bakery on the corner, the smells hitting me before I reach the shop itself. They are thick and sweet. Cars are double-parked down our street, locals dashing from the passenger doors to pick up their breakfast. A long queue snakes from the entrance. Inside there are piles of pork buns, slices of dark honey cake, rolls topped with pork floss, bread with ham laid on top and stuck fast with melted cheese. It is a different smell from bakeries back home. I tried a loaf of bread once, but the slices are thin and sugary.”

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Book:The Color of Tea
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“The pastry kitchen is colder than I had imagined but smells delicious, as sweet and crisp as the bite of an apple. The walls are covered in white tiles, and almost everything is made of stainless steel. There are quite a few Chinese chefs in the kitchen, busy at work. They don't look rushed at all, carefully executing their tasks. One chef is releasing praline balls from their molds and then dipping them in a bowl of melted chocolate. It looks like a silken soup, and my mouth waters. He drops each ball in with a large fork and slowly stirs it around. When it comes up again, it has the satin sheen of the warm chocolate. He rolls it, the fork providing a cradle against a marble bench top until it is cool. The fork leaves no crease or mark on the finished product, a perfect sphere. There is such slow art to it; I feel hypnotized.”

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Book:The Color of Tea
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