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58<br />

JUNE <strong>2010</strong> | UNITED.COM<br />

food&drink<br />

shiitake, parmesan, tomato and fancy ketchup.<br />

Umami, which has arguably existed as long as humans<br />

and food, is having its media moment. Last year, food<br />

scientists at Philadelphia’s Monell Chemical Senses<br />

Center announced new research showing that humans are<br />

hardwired to detect this fi fth taste and probably to crave it.<br />

Indeed, many of the world’s cuisines highlight foods rich in<br />

umami—truffl es, soy sauce, tomatoes and aged cheese, for<br />

example—all of which just happen to show high levels of a<br />

naturally occurring chemical, glutamic acid.<br />

It turns out most everyone has functional receptors that<br />

recognize glutamate. What’s more, when combined with<br />

the acids (or, more specifi cally, ribonucleotides) isonine and<br />

guanosine—found in fermented foods, from yeast-based<br />

bread to wine—“umami synergism” occurs, fl ooding the<br />

mouth with an amped-up savoriness. “If I put free glutamate<br />

in water, you would taste it, and you wouldn’t say it’s salty,<br />

sweet, sour or bitter,” Monell researcher Paul Breslin explains.<br />

“What makes it subtle, however, is that it’s not particularly<br />

appealing alone, like sweetness in candy. People usually want<br />

umami in the context of foods that contain other qualities.”<br />

None of which would be news to the late Kikunae Ikeda,<br />

who invented the term umami a century ago and gave the<br />

world its chemical clone, monosodium glutamate (MSG),<br />

which in the days before “wholesome” and “organic” were<br />

culinary watchwords was a common ingredient in many<br />

takeout items, canned soups and other packaged foods.<br />

“China’s best chefs still swear by MSG,” says Ming Tsai,<br />

LEMON BROCCOLINI-SHIITAKE SAUTÉ<br />

WITH GARLIC CHIPS<br />

Makes four servings<br />

• 1 /4 cup plus 1 tbsp. Wanjashan<br />

organic soy sauce<br />

• 2 bunches broccolini, broken<br />

into 2-inch pieces<br />

• 1 /3 cup thinly sliced garlic<br />

• 1 /2 cup extra virgin olive oil<br />

• 2 cups sliced shiitake<br />

• 1 /2 teaspoon Korean chili fl ake<br />

(or red chili)<br />

• 1 /3 cup chopped<br />

preserved lemon<br />

In a stock pot, add the soy sauce to a quart of water and bring<br />

to a boil. Parboil the broccolini until tender-crisp, about three<br />

minutes, and shock in ice bath. Dry pot. Add extra virgin olive oil on<br />

medium-high heat. Add garlic and stir until golden brown. Remove<br />

garlic and drain, leaving a<br />

little oil in pot. Sauté the<br />

shiitake. Add back garlic with<br />

chili fl ake, preserved lemon<br />

and blanched broccolini.<br />

Heat through. Check<br />

seasoning and serve. For<br />

added umami, sprinkle with<br />

Parmigiano-Reggiano.<br />

Copyright 2009 Ming Tsai<br />

host of PBS’s Simply Ming, who prefers to create his deeply<br />

savory dishes naturally, with wheat-free soy sauce and sake<br />

lees, for example. “There are still three white powders in the<br />

Chinese kitchen: salt, sugar and MSG.”<br />

Though the additive has long been associated with<br />

adverse aff ects, including headaches, researchers have<br />

yet to prove a defi nitive link. “Most likely the majority of<br />

people who claim they have ‘Chinese food syndrome’ just<br />

ate a lot of heavy food high in sodium,” says Tsai,<br />

who nonetheless avoids the chemical. “That would give<br />

anyone a headache.”<br />

Eager to learn—and, well, taste—more, one Sunday<br />

morning I show up at Providence, a restaurant on Melrose<br />

Avenue in Los Angeles, along with 30 other enthusiastic<br />

foodies here for a 90-minute demonstration and tasting<br />

of umami-rich dishes conducted by chef-owner Michael<br />

Cimarusti. Walking into the contemporary space, we’re<br />

presented with our own red Providence notebooks,<br />

Providence recipes and umami research printouts from<br />

something called the Umami Information Center.<br />

Cimarusti, a bearded, easygoing New Jersey native with<br />

long curly hair, soon appears in a chef’s coat and black<br />

Japanese cook’s cap. He greets a number of the students,<br />

some of Providence’s most devoted regulars—including a<br />

well-to-do married couple in their forties, a conservatively<br />

dressed older couple and a hip thirtysomething winery<br />

owner who pulled up in a late-model Porsche—and explains<br />

that we’ll be focusing on dashi, a master broth made from<br />

kombu (edible kelp high in free glutamic acid) and dried,<br />

fermented bonito fl akes (high in ribonucleotides). Dashi, he<br />

explains, cooking on a high table with a mirror above the<br />

back of his head, is the basis of Japanese cuisine, the potion<br />

that prompted Ikeda to create the word “umami.”<br />

We’re ready to taste.<br />

“It’s really important to get the highest-quality soy sauce<br />

you can fi nd,” Cimarusti says, as we each pick up small<br />

plastic cups fi lled with light and dark soy and toss them<br />

back, sampling the compounds like wine. Cimarusti holds<br />

up a real piece of high-end petrifi ed bonito (or katsuobushi)

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