Gonpachi - And soba, could this be the best preparation?

A gimmicky but damn good restaurant has stolen my heart - Gonpachi in Roppongi. It was a place Bush senior once ate, a setting for Kill Bill's bloodiest scene, intensely popular with the foreigner population, but its simple, expertly prepared soba, yakitori, tofu, and fish dishes are second to none. After a late concert (Koji had a band performance that went until 9:30) we ran over for some quick soba and appetizers.


Here is my order of Kamo Seiro, cold soba with a soup of sliced duck breast. Duck in Japan is the same cut. A very lean inch and a half wide strip of meat capped with a thin rim of rich duck fat. Whether in soup or salad, always cut the same way. In the back is a dish of sansho - a peppery, tounge-numbing spice to add to the soup.
A good look at the soup. It was rich, but not salty. More flavored by duck and meat than soy sauce. I've had some that were way too soy saucy. The duch had given off its richness and fat. I'm regretting not taking a piece out of the soup and photographing it seperately. What set this heads and shoulders - and duck breast - above other chicken or duck soup preparations with soba was this duck was undeniably roasted and browned and the soup was made from the drippings. Clearly a western influence, but the flavor and umami of true browned meat can't quite be replicated by fermentation of soybeans and the natural MSG found in kelp. This was the bone sucking, finger-licking gravy good of a brown sauce, and everyone at the table, except host father, thought it was the best soup theyve had. Last, but not least, the hand made- although machine cut soba. When you are cranking trhough probably about 300+ guests a night the handcut thing is hard, but they do make their own soba dough in Gonpachi and make it very well. I'd call it a medium bodied soba, not inaka, but not too fine either.

Really an appitizer but I put it after the soba. Zaru, homemade tofu. Soft, creamy as any custard, with a sutble but not overpowering flavor of the beans from which it was made from. You eat this with a little sea salt and wasabi. I wouldn't go a meal without it at gonpachi. Supposedly Matsugen in NYC also has one that rocks.
A gi

Eating my way through Hokkaido

Hokkaido is the wonderful northern island in Japan and I don't think there are many Japanese that will argue against the fact that it is a breadbasket and has some of the best food in the country. Typical Hokkaido food is hearty; quite a bit of meat, butter, and milk from the farmland. Milk...hands down the best and creamiest I've had. From milk you get ice cream. And also from milk you get Nama (Raw) Caramel, a fad food in Japan that seems to have originated in Hokkaido. Can't forget about the crab and seafood too. This is the same water as "Dangerous Catch" and crabs are brought in fresh, not flash frozen, into the ports of this island.
First foodie stop was at the restaurant attached to one of Kirin's beer factories. The beer was unimpressive, but the main dish, lamb, called Ghengis Khan, is a Hokkaido specialty and worth a space on the blog. We order and the lamb comes out like this, in some sort of sweet sauce. Sweetened meat is part of the Japanese palate, and although sometimes gets unbearable, it was tolerable on the lamb. There was also a plate of vegetables that came with the order.

Lamb is cooked at the table, on this special type of plate/ burner. It's grooved and domed, moving the juices from cooking off the center and out to the sides. The shape makes sense...you can load stuff on and not worry about it steaming all that much. What you see in this picture is a piece of lamb fat being used to grease the pan. Fat is fat, no point in discriminating against lard as an ingredient as either software or hardware (this is a hardware application). Now what did bother me about the preparation was the veggies down first then the meat. It contradicted the purpose of the pan. There was hardly any meat-metal contact, hence no browning of the outside. As you can see by the bottom pic, this does not appear to be a really browned or sauteed piece of meat. Even in Hokkaido, the concept of browning really has no place. As for the results, the meat was delicious, very lean. It had a mild lamb flavor and very tender, but I think the lambiness was abated by is freshness or special breed rather than the sauce that it was in. Now because the veggies were on the bottom, and so were the drippings from the sweet sauce, there was a chance for caramelization and deliciousness. But the nearly burnt, bottom portions of the pan had no appeal to the host family, and it was just me scraping off every last scrap as the waitress was going in to change the pan for the next round of lamb...


Hokkaido is famous for ice cream, espcially soft serve. Big flavors are Milk, Vanilla, Lavender, and Melon. I am not sure how the melon got in there, thinking it was a tropical fruit, but Hokkaido grows a variety of canteloupe melon that fetches a pretty high price when brought to Tokyo. I had two flavors at different time, lavender and milk. I had my eye set on the milk flavor for a while, ever since my past ice cream post from Costco (which was vanilla but I looked up the Hokkaido style afterwards) But first we have lavender. It sounded like a brilliant concept, especially since this past summer I ran into a few amazing lavender-scented panna cotta during NY's restaurant week. Other than the purple color, this was week. The lavender just barely came through; you had to try hard to taste it. Lavender honey or any dessert, for example, carried this wonderful purfume, close to rosemary but sweeter and more flowery. Even worse, there was not much richness in this ice cream to back it up. My first experience with "Hokkaido" ice was an incredibly rich, custard-like vanilla that poured out of the dispenser in a firm circle spiraling up the peak, so rich and thick that the center of the ice cream (pour, swirl, not sure of hte name) was hollow becaue the cream had such body. This was nothing like that. So it was kind of disappointing as far as mouthfeel, richness, body (spine of the ice cream perhaps) and flavor (the decorations)
Now this next example is a natural milk flavored soft serve from Otaru. There was also a caramel swirl but I had to go pure for my first taste. Now this was more of what ice cream is about. Still not as incredibly rich as the one sold in Costco (although that may not be a bad thing) this pulled all the richness and flavor of natural milk, added minimal sugar, and came out a the custard-like, almost chewy consitency that make Carvel's career and soft serve so pleasurable to eat. But Carvel can't hand a candle to this. Carvel's vanilla is fun and delicious, but it's got more sugar, probably some stabilizers, and because mass produced from mass produced cows, you lose the association with the milk and cream, and in a sense the ice cream becomes something apart from the dairy that it was born from. Not the case here. I believe drank some of the sweetest, richest, milk in the world at a hotel in Sapporo before coming to Otaru, and this ice cream was clearly made from natural ingredients of that same quality. So what did it taste like? It tasted like milk, and butterfat; flavors in their own that really do not need to be vanillized to sell. If you look at it logically, you shouldnt have to flavor milk/cream. Taking things back, and then wayyy back, the first flavors/foods that we are exposed to in this world milk, milk sugar, and butterfat. Now wayy back - raw milk was one of the basic foods of the first civilizations with the domestication of animals. We are hardwired to love this stuff, and like the Cro-Magnon I am, I loved this.

Next up, Otaru sushi. Otaru is hyped up as one of the best places for sushi in Japan. This above poster is for a type of white, rare salmon, 1 in 10,000 taken from salmon breeding grounds, which is why one piece costs more than a sushi lunch around Waseda university (panic sets in when I realize I haven't blogged about that yet.) No, I did not eat this salmon. So lets see how we compare to Yasuda.
There are sushi restaurants eveywhere, but we are brought to this one, by a horsecab driver that Koji wanted to ride. I'm sceptical because usually there are kickbacks for those things but no use arguing. I would have rather wandered to the place with a line in the front. Can't complain though because I got a free sushi lunch and the guys behind the counter were friendly. Where Yasuda and his accomplices worked with a friendly but mechanical accuracy, these guys seemed to have a little more fun.
Sushi being assmbled. Two guys making it by hand. Counter looked promising (remember I am comparing everything to Yasuda in NYC) Same serving style, on the big leaves. Sushi fish was displayed but not pre-cut. Yasuda does no show his goods.
Here is my sushi plate, later a piece of uni and salmon roe sushi came out. The roe on the far left was disappointing, kind of low quality sushi, but the one next to it is awabi, abalone, one of hte most expensive shells. I'm not going to go piece by piece becaue I dont have pics piece by piece but the fish was extremely fresh. Couldn't argue with that. But it did open my eyes to why some sushi bars are better than others, and why Yasuda is king. It is not about the freshness of the fish because if you live near the water or a big city with a market its easily obtainable for eht right price. It is about much small things, which Yasuda does and no one else can. How you cut the fish, thin, thick, small, hashed, wrapped around the rice ball, etc. It is about how you prepare the rice, and form the ball. How the fish is balanced with the rice and wasabi/other seasonings like soy sauce and sea salt. Because I think I ate at the best sushi restaurant in the world, I'm going to be pretty harsh to say that even these guys in Otaru couldn't match Yasuda. They cut the fish and made the rice balls to big, hard to fit in your mouth. Although fresh, Yasuda's fish just gleamed and sparked the way he cut it. Wasabi was balanced. The definition of zen in food. There to enhance flavor based on the weight of the fish. Here, there were times where the wasabi placed between teh fish and rice overwhelmed the fish. And then finally, the rice balls were a little sloppily made. Irregular, some grains poking out. Guess Yasuda turned me into a snob and I'm waiting for someone to step up in this country at beat him or for me to get back to NY.
Final specialty of Hokkaido was beer, ji-beer to be exact, or microbrew. Sapporo and kirin factories aside, wherever we went there were beer bars and special cans/bottles of the local stuff. This can is one I bought in the Tomamu hotel, the towers. It was a black porter, sweeter than a stout. Sweetness from carmel and toffee notes rather than chocolate as in stouts. Mouthfeel was kind of light, but sticky as carbonation was low. Here are some more examples, ranging from German trippels, American Lager, Pislners, cans, bottles, double fermented liters. Great selection. Too bad I couldn't carry all that much on the plane.


Lots of beer came in 3 can sets. See upper left.

Inaka Soba

As I've been learning more about soba (eating my way through the text book), I came across this odd set of kanji that I didn't realize was the writing of "Inaka" or "country." Now ordinarily this would have no meaning but I read a few months ago that a famous soba restaurant in Tokyo called Matsugen opened up in New York City and their Inaka soba are drawing incredible reviews. Never got the chance to go in NYC, but nothing stopping me from getting Inaka soba in Japan. Turns out the closest soba-ya to my house (30 second walk) is one of the places that has the hand made, hand cut, inaka soba that I've been looking for. (Matsugen in Tokyo isn't as easy to get to but I will be there just for the sake of a NYC comparison)
First time I went, it was 1pm and the hand cut soba was sold out. ANother things I realized is that the hand cut places usually only have the handcut on special order and limited quantity, at least in Tokyo. This place only makes 10 orders a day, after that you get a machine made or god forbid purchased noodles. The places I ate at in Nagano had at least 50 orders of the hand cut stuff, but Nagano seems to be the expert on these things.
So I went back the next week, early. The difference between handcut and not was apparent, as well as inaka and not inaka. Inaka uses a courser milled whole soba flour so the noodles were very dark, with flecks of soba kernels. These were hearty, hearty, noodles. When you bit down there was almost a crunch as you hit the larger pieces. I personally prefer heartier noodles no matter what the culture - I'll take fettucine over spaghetti anyday and I only eat angel hair once a year. There was a sweetness and complexity that machine made or purchased noodles did not have and the big, thick noodles were much more fun to slurp.
Now that I have a little income coming, I can be on the lookout for some more soba places to drop into in addition to Matsugen. I'd love to try the opposite of the Inaka, called Sarashina, which is a very finely milled noodle, as well as various flavors like macha, mugwort, and ume. As they come up I'll post them.
Here's the "special" back page of the menu with the info on the Inaka soba with the picture of the old soba man rolling out the dough in a pain of a process (no gluten in buckwheat). That means like trying to build something without screws or nails - nothing to hold the dough together chemically.
Translation: Inaka soba is stone ground with its with its hull intact, made from 80 percent buckwheat and 20 percent wheat flour. It is a healthy soba made with the hand-cutting technique.

Waseda's Number One Ramen

Two ramen posts separated by two months, and only two ramen posts in two months. That's pretty sad. I was back in America for a bit with a busted camera so didn't post for way too long. But now that I am back in Japan I can start up again.

This above specimen is from the #1 ranked Ramen shop in the Waseda/Takadanobaba area, one that my dining partner told me that caters to the student tastes. Waseda publishes a yearly review of classes, ramen, and other eateries, and this one took the top spot. Big, Heavy, lots of calories for hte money plus an all you can eat rice bowl. Minoru and I are going to be meeting every Monday for our language exchange, starting with a lunch, so I think there will be more ramen and never ending rice bowls. Although not healthy, its part of Waseda's culture and I may be able to get into it.

Tsukemen aside, there are 4 main styles of ramen, grouped by soup style. There is shio (salt), shouyu (soy sauce+pork/chicken broth) which is the most common in Tokyo, Tonkotsu (literally translated "Pork Bone" but has much more pork than that), and miso (soybean paste with some other heaviness in it, occasionally butter as well.) I have eaten all but miso, and like the lighter ones better, but I did have an awesome tonkotsu in the Ramen museum in Yokohama.

So on to this prized tonkotsu. First, we waited about 20 minutes to get in the shop. Second, what I liked, was you could specifiy the stregth of the broth, the texture (hard/soft) of the noodles, and how much oil is added. I chose normal broth, noodles on the hard side, and no extra oil (not needed). Made sure I got an extra ni tamago too.

Let's get to the main part of this bowl: the soup. Minoru admitted that this was an especially heavy, rich broth. Most tonkotsu is white, this one was brown taking flavors from the pork and soy sauce. Remember, this was the normal preparation, there is an even thicker one. The soup tasted like drinking pork gravy, or liquid pork. Flavor was drawn from boiling bones, fat, skin, meat, everything, for a very very long time to produce a thick and creamy pork sauce. It's rich, tounge-covering sensation was part from the collogen in the bones, a normal occurance in western stocks, but the fat had perfectly emulsified in the broth as well, going back to the gravy sensation, except there was no roux base. It was salty, heavy, and packed a wallup. Many glasses of water were needed while eating this bowl, not that it was bad, it was beautiful, but it was work as well.

From now on I will be sure to order noodles "katame" or on the hard side. Other than texture and firmness, taste didn't offer much. Or maybe that was because the soup was everywhere and stuck to the noodles like a cream sauce.

Moving from there, the the chashu (pork) set on top of the bowl was the best I have had. It was not one of those silly looking pinwheels of belly. It was plenty fatty, but thick and retained the texture of meat rather than the flimsier and thinner chashu, something I want when biting into a piece of meat. The nori/broth combination was wonderful, absorbing the fat and richness of the broth but not becoming soggy. A wetter, thinner soup sinks right in. Green spinach on the top added a nice textural change from the richness, but wouldn't call it a palate-cleanser.

This stall is a master of pork. Chashu is the best so far and if I have to measure a bowl on pure porky richness they win hands down. But I was not in the mood for a BBQ and still wanted to function the rest of the day, and I have to admit that this bowl and that soup kicked my ass. To a Japanese student, who is used to this type of stuff since childhood, I can see how the shop takes number one and I give them a ton of credit for inventing a roux-less gravy and the worlds first pork drink, but I liked the previous tsukemen better because not only was the soup good, but it didn't over power everything else. I like to taste my noodles and the egg always steals my heart. One downside to the thickness is you don't get the contrast of the creamy egg to the savory, flavorful, but not thinner soup, which I find so appealing in shio and shouyu ramens. I will absolutely give tonkotsu another chance, but just not here, and not in the middle of the day. Tonkotsu heaviness is a dinner thing.

Tsukemen

Waseda students love ramen. Actually, lots of people love ramen but because its cheap and pretty well varied, and usually comes with unlimited rice, its a big hit with the college students. (Yes, you get a big bowl of noodles AND unlimited white rice. I think Dr. Atkins just rolled over in his grave and I want to make hte point again that there is no reason why Tokyo-ites should be so thin because this is how most people eat here.) I digress. Waseda and Baba area is packed with ramen places. I think last count was somewhere around 40 but I'll leave that up to someone who knows more about ramen than I do. Check that blog for some really gritty details and history of ramen and ramen varities.

Basics are ramen is a bowl of curly noodles, typically egg based. Rather rich tasting. Toppings, broth and way of serving varies shop to shop, but typically the broth is in the bowl with the noodles, there is a wonderful thing called a "ni-tamago" involved, and slices of fatty pork. In the world of Japanese noodles, there are three big players. You have ramen, soba, udon. Soba is my favorite. Udon is hte most hit and miss. I've had some good ones and some that go down with the excitement of thick worms. Ramen is fun, hard to screw up, and just about every likes it, but I don't think its anything special, but it has a tremendous cult following because there are so many varities and places around. For me, the regular soy sauce or shio ramen is a middle of the road go to, then I was introduced to tsukemen, that takes the fun of dunking and your noodles of soba and combines it with the delicious greasiness of ramen (and the ni-tamago). In tsukemen, the noodles and toppings are seperate from your bowl of...well...whatever you dunk in. Options at this ramen-ya were spicy miso and wa-fu, which was basically soy sauce and sesame oil based. I opted for the wa-fu


Here we have the "tsuke" part of the tsukemen. Its a warm bath of menma (tender portion of bamboo, common ingredient in ramen, negi (scallions) soy sauce, pork broth, sugar, sesame oil, and probably some pork fat from the broth. You can see some lemon peel in the picture and I think it the broth was thickened by some grated daikon. More concentrated than the normal broth of a typical bowl of ramen. It was thick enough and had enough in it so when you dipped the ramen, the soup adhered very well. Some of hte first bites were pretty greasy actually very greasy, could feel the grease all over when I swallowed. Grease is part of the ramen experience...this is not exactly health food or clean eating like soba is. Flavors when the ramen is in the broth are much more diluted...less grease, spice, etc. This stuff had body to it, perfect for clinging to the noodles. And it was a lot more fun eating the ramen this way and fishing out all the pieces of menma and dropped goodness from the bowl. You could also combine ingredients the way you wanted, like wrapping some nori around the noodles then dunking, trying a little nori on its own. This nori was a nice texture, not paper thin like most yakinori. A bit thicker and held its own against dunking in the broth without collapsing into a limp mess.
So on to a little about the ramen and toppings. Ramen was cool, not chilled, but definitely not right out of the hot water. Noodles, with the exception of udon, because it is so thick, definitely beloing outside of hot broth. The soften too much in a hot broth and lose al dente rather quickly. To Japanese, al dente may not be a good thing, given how much more like like soft food than Americans but to me, and my italian blood, its al-dente or nothing. This held al dente very well and alone you could taste the flavors in the noodles better. The egg, flour, little butter maybe. Ramen isnt usually hand-made, but the good noodles absolutely carry a flavor. Pork was a bit too thick and fatty for my liking. This is the one ingredient best sitting in a pot of broth to soften it up a bit. For tsukemen, pork shavings rather than slices would be better. If I make it, I'll try this way. The dip in the broth wasnt enough to soften up this log of fat and meat, and the dish would have been better without it. But a leaner cut of roasted pork, close to shaved thin, dunked into the soup would be magical.

Speaking of Magic: Ni-Tamago in Action
Just when I thought I was getting close to replicating a ni-tamago, this ramen shop throws a new twist in. This was the best ni-tamago I've eaten so far. And not because of that jelly-like yolk, but the white this time stole the show. To clarify, a ni-tamago is essentially an onsen tamago in reverse. Solid white (hard boiled) and jelly-like, not runny yolk. Onsen tamago has a barely coagulated white and a sold, but not chalky yolk. This egg though nailed the yolk perfectly white keeping the white from becoming rubbery like a hard-boiled. Only way to pull this off is to cook the egg under boiling. Probably around 90 degrees C or maybe lower. This will give the yolk time to turn to jelly while not turing the outermost portion of the egg into a white tire. The egg was taken out of some sort of warm bath immediately before serving, which had to be under 60 degrees so the yolk does not solidify. Bath was something more on the sweet than salty. The outside of the egg is stained very lightly, not a tan or brown from soy sauce. Above pick is the egg simply split by my chopsticks and the bottom is with the yolk inverted. Slight chalking of the yolk on the very outside, but nothing to complain about. Just goes to show how delicate the preperation is, that a few degrees or seconds too long will blow the perfect ni-tamago. These ramen shops must have this down to a science.

Egg-speriments 1 and 2

Corny title, but fitting.

I've written about the wonders of Japanese egg preparations before. Got the chance to try 2 today. One complete failure, one semi success.

Egg-speriment 1: Quicky Onsen Tamago
Got this method from the sobaya-san at asakusa. Crack an egg in a small bowl or cup. Add boiling water. Microwave for 1 minute to get a quick and easy onsen tamago without the need for a temperature-controlling device or patience. I was skeptical. At best I thought this will turn out somewhere between poached and onsen.

Results: Meltdown/slight explosion. What soba-ya san left out was what power to use. High is not it. Egg was poorly poached at best. Whites and yolk were too hard for anything enjoyable. Plus, around the 55 sec mark a hole ruptured in the white casuing eggy water to spray in the microwave. Not cool. Medium setting next time.

Egg-speriment 2: Ni-tamago
Bit more success. Cooked 5 eggs in boiling water for 6 minutes and 20 seconds. Removed them to an ice bath for about a minute, peeled them, and ate them on top of curry after about 10 miuntes. What the ni-tamago is about is a hard boiled white with a yolk that is oozy and soft but not runny and definitely not chalky. We are going for a yolk texture that will hold itself when the egg is split in half using a fishing line or cheese cutter and can be stuck on top of a bowl of ramen or other partially soup-like food. This was very close. Yolk was probably a bit too runny for these eggs to be cut in half for a ramen-like dressing. I would go to 7 minutes in a boil before hitting the icebath. If 7 minutes results in any chalkiness of the outer portion of the yolk, I'd go 6 minutes on boil, remove from heat for 1 minute, then ice bath.

Taste of the Old Country

Some notes on my Japanese biscotti making experience...

Family loved them. Biscotti appealed more to the family than the chocolate chip cookies or pumpkin pie that was made in the past. Explanation was that they were not sweet, or very sweet. Still don't understand the way Japanese people measure sweetness. There is plenty of cake out their that they pay crazy prices for and the japanese sweets are the sweetest things on earth. As far as cookies go, sweet is bad.

Tasting notes. I did a few things differently because I was not in my kitchen. First, I used almond extract because there is no anise in Japan and I thought almond would go better with Japanese people. Not the original taste, definitely more suited for tea or milk than coffee or red wine.

Second, the walnuts in the house were store-bought chopped. Not hand-chopped. Size of the walnuts were smaller overall than my typical preparation. I think they tasted better this way. The oils from the walnuts were better able to get into the cookie. But I also like enormous pieces of nuts in my biscotti. Solution: Use whole or halved nuts plus some pulverized dust in a food processor. Note the size of the pieces as well as texture of the crumb. Light, uniform (see item 4 below after reading item 3)

Third, I had no access to a broiler and instead of using the Grandpa method of 1 minute toasting under the broiler, both sides I did 20 mins in a 300 degree oven after cutting and standing the biscotti up. Much easier, less burns on hands and cookies. Don't know how much this affected the 4th and most important tasting note...

Fluffy? Light? Flaky? Where did this come from? Biscotti are typically pretty tough customers. They are hard, and supposed to be hard. Not rock solid, but a heavy hitting cookie. These were the lightest biscotti I ever ate. Light on the tounge and in the hand. As they were baking, they puffed up more than I have ever seen. Wish I had taken a picture because I was thinking there was no way I was cutting these buggers without them breaking at this height. They looked like bread loaves in the oven. I have to say, these have to be the best I've made. And I'm in Japan. When I go back to the states, I'll have try again. Using a combination of Grandpa toasting style and the conventional. Possible causes of the delightful lightness

FRESH BAKING POWDER. This is obvious but maybe not the entire explaination. I bought baking powder and used it. Was not sitting around and not past expiration.

Usage of shortening rather than butter. Grandpa's recpie has both ways but have only used butter up till today. I don't know enough about baking science to make a call on this one but according to Ochef.com, shortening's higher melting point allows flour and eggs to set and you get less spread and more fluff to your cookie. But this is in the context of chocolate chip cookies, not biscotti, which are formed into loaves, not dropped on a pan, hence spread should not be much of an issue. There is only expansion. Another difference is shortening does not impart a creamy texture, but biscotti are not creamy so on that account, butter is the loser, I should continue with shortening for any non-spreading effect it has.

Final bake at 20 mins in 300 degree oven. This is a wild guess, but maybe the remaining water was able to evaporate in a more orderly fashion this way instead of the Grandpa broil method, leaving a more uniformly dried cookie.

Recipe:
3.5 cups flour plus more for dusting
1/2 cup shortening
3 eggs
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
2-3 (depending on taste) TBSP extract
3 tsp baking powder FRESH
1 cup stuff you want in the biscotti (nuts/fruit)

Whip shortening and sugar until creamy. Add eggs 1 by 1 and continue mixing. Add extract. In separate bowl sift flour, baking powder, salt. Form well and add wet into dry. Add nuts and/or fruit Mix to a workable dough. May need to add more flour.
Flour a cutting board and hands, preheat oven to 350. Grease pan or use parchment paper (my new love) Form dough into 3 or 4 loaves of uniform thickness. Bake 25 mins until outside is golden brown.
Remove from oven and cut into desired length, slightly on diagonal is nice. Stand biscotti on baking tray at least 1cm apart. (using metric now in Japan). Bake for 20 more minutes at 300 degrees. Remove, let cool, store outside of fridge in metal tin.