Morimoto Philadelphia Omakase

We had the omakase for dinner, as well as the beverage omakase. So many courses, soooo yummy. The descriptions are sometimes vague, as I had a hard time both hearing and remembering everything they said. The Kobe shortrib might be the best, but it’s hard to choose.

  • Amuse bouche
    Salmon tartar with lemon and jalapeño oil

  • First
    Blue fin belly tartar fresh and crunchy chives sturgeon caviar

  • Second
    Kummomoto oysters Japanese salsa, lime ceviche, jalapeño slice

  • Third
    Evolution 9 varietal blend
    Oregon Snapper carpaccio ginger, apple

  • Fourth
    Morimoto Jumai Saki
    Amberjack fish, micro-green salad, carrot oil, yuzu foam

  • Intermezzo
    Raspberry lemon soda

  • Fifth
    Spicy lobster creme fraiche

  • Sixth
    Cabernet sauvignon
    Kobe short rib, wasabi greens, vegetables, red wine reduction

  • Seventh
    Ji saki
    Sushi: Tuna, amberjack, Bonita tuna, red snapper, clam

  • Dessert
    Sauvignon blanc dessert wine (I think. Not sure what she said.)
    Ginger peach cheesecake

The pictures at the end are the inside of the restaurant: a rather phallic-looking table light, divider walls that changed from lime to pink/purple, and organic-styled ceilings and walls.

There’s something odd about baby carrots. How do they get in these rounded shapes? I’m imagining someone in the baby carrot factory filing away at the edges, which seems like a waste of carrot. I found one that was twice as long but skinnier than usual the other day. Suspicious! They seem kind of fat for baby carrots, too, at least from what I remember of gardening. (Which isn’t much, I assure you!)

Maybe they’re toddler carrots. Or even teen carrots.

That is all.

It’s been an interesting experience living with my boyfriend and his family. I’m having a bit of a hard time adjusting to his mother’s cooking, particularly because it’s of a different culture, Chinese.

I don’t consider myself a picky eater. Sure, I went through my phases when I was little. At one point, I wouldn’t eat spaghetti with tomato sauce, only with butter. I think I didn’t like pizza at one point either. Times sure have changed. I eat a variety of food. I’ve tried Thai, Vietnamese, Ethiopian, and Indian, and liked lots of them. However, living with it is an entirely different matter.

If anything, I’m picky about textures. I don’t like meats with a lot of fat, and I have trouble stomaching foods with textures that differ vastly from what I’m used to. I find that I begin to dread meal time, because I crave the kinds of food that I grew up with. This is also complicated by the fact that, even when I was living with my mother, mealtimes were not exactly regular. I had much more freedom about what I ate and when. Much as I hate making lunch for myself in the morning, I’m not used to having all of my meals decided for me.

I feel a little stuck in all this. I can’t tell her that I don’t want to eat her food, it’s rude. Also, while I don’t mind cooking for myself, cooking for five is an entirely different proposition, as several friends have suggested offering to cook dinner. I’m not that sure of my cooking skills. 😉 I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to eating Chinese most of the time, but I’m not sure what to do about it.

I have to wonder if it’s really possible to adapt to eating a completely different kind of food than one has eaten all their lives.