I was in the midst of one of those frantic, breathless days before the upcoming winter storm. I was neither frantic nor breathless, but I was interested in seeing what this storm would amount to. We all know how that panned out now, but on this day, people were just starting to make their obligatory toilet paper/bread/milk runs. I was in town, accompanying my daughter on some non-grocery store tasks, keeping her company. Part of keeping her company involved going to lunch. Neither one of us was starving, so we were looking for a little snack, and Tokyo Sushi Steakhouse was close to our last stop.
On weekdays, Tokyo closes from 3 to 4:30 p.m., and we were cutting it close at 2:40 p.m. I used to work at a family restaurant that now no longer exists, and I clearly remember the frustration when someone walked in to eat during the last 15 minutes we were open. That likely led to us remaining open a half hour to an hour longer than we normally were, all of us stuck there, ready to go home, tired and smelling of catfish grease, unable to finish the final cleanup until the last guests left. Because of these core memories, I make sure that I don’t put anyone else in that situation. My daughter is delightfully agreeable, so when I suggested we get our food to go and eat our Japanese tidbits in the car, she was all for it. I got an order of Crab Rangoon; she got a California Roll.
For those of you who have never tried sushi before and wish to, the California Roll is a good beginner roll. Cooked crab meat nestled inside rolled sticky rice and thin, salty seaweed paper, pressed against avocado and a smattering of other veggies. There is nothing raw, nothing especially exotic, and if you add a dab of the green wasabi paste, a sprinkle of soy sauce and maybe a slice of pickled ginger, you will have a party in your mouth when you start to chew. The flavors combine, change, deepen, nearly overloading your tastebuds with salty, tangy, savory. Textures abound — chewy rice, crunchy cucumber and slightly sweet crab. Please, I beg you, if you’ve never tried sushi, try this one. If you don’t like it, then that’s fair, and thanks for trying, but if you do, there are so many more sushi rolls and flavors to try. Tokyo’s sushi-to-go came in an adorable travel tray, the presentation beautiful, and my daughter ate it with relish.
I ordered an item that many people take for granted, the simple crab rangoon. For me, this may seem an odd choice. The crab rangoon is safe, not exotic, not unique. I would argue that Tokyo Sushi Steakhouse serves the best crab rangoons in the area.
This item has become synonymous with bulk Chinese buffets, one of those items that people stack up high on top of the rice and meat dishes. I always felt like it was one of those Americanized Japanese dishes, but I wasn’t really sure. So from what I can gather, here is the story of the crab rangoon. It is widely believed that the crab rangoon was invented around 1955 in Oakland, California, and served for the first time at Trader Vic’s, a tiki bar there. After World War II, Americans were hungry for exotic flavors from all over the world, and this is when chefs were borrowing flavors from other cultures and making new cuisine with it. I can’t speak for Tokyo’s particular recipe, but a typical crab rangoon contains crab meat, cream cheese, scallions or green onions, and garlic, all wrapped in a wonton wrapper and fried until the outside is crispy and the inside is molten.
What makes Tokyo’s crab rangoon unique is, funnily enough, the crab meat. I know that the majority of rangoons I’ve tasted have seemed more like cream cheese rangoons, with the crab mysteriously absent. But at Tokyo, there are noticeable and abundant strands of crab meat running throughout. Absolutely delicious little nuggets of creamy dairy goodness perfectly paired with salty sweet crab meat, wrapped in a crunchy shell. Combine this with the sweet and sour sauce, which is light and not overpoweringly sweet, and this rangoon is a winner, not to be taken for granted.
Get some at Tokyo Sushi Steakhouse in Jackson, at 1815 E. Jackson Blvd.
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