Good Eats (1999–2012): Season 14, Episode 8 - Fry Hard III: Fry, Tempura, Fry! - full transcript

I think it's safe to say

that we have done our fair share
of frying on this program.

After all,
we have pan-fried,

we have wok-fried,
we have sautéed, deep fat-fried.

Why, we dedicated
two entire episodes

to the attainment
of golden-brown deliciousness.

Alas, that was all child's play

compared to --
[ Crashes ]

Did you hear a...?

Anyway, as I was saying,

there exists in the pantheon
of fried food



a dish of such lethal cunning,

such devilish design...
[ Crashes ]

...such confounding
delightfulness...

such terrifying,
nitpicking brilliance,

that it could only
come from Japan.

[ Glasses shatter ]
-Ah, this must be construction

or something.

The method I speak of
is mythic and magical,

and it's haunted the dreams

of many a chef.

I speak, of course,
of the infamous...

Aah!

Tempura!

[ Roaring ]



♪♪

It is the horrible monster,
Tempura,

who comes ashore every 100 years

to feast on the flesh of cooks!

[ All screaming ]

-[ Roaring ]
-Aah!

[ Roars ]

Oh, the humanity!

Who will save us?

Okay, is tempura
really a monster?

No.

It is simply the pinnacle
of the frying arts.

It seems like a monster

because doing it right
can be so darn daunting.

Even most Japanese cooks
don't dare attempt it at home.

When they want tempura,
they go to a tempura restaurant.

And yet, you know,

if we stand up and fight
our irrational fears

with sound science,
simple, everyday ingredients,

well-tuned techniques,
and basic-issue hardware,

tempura can magically morph

from monstrous,
to monstrously...

♪♪

"Good Eats."

In Japanese cuisine,

there are several forms
of deep-fried foods,

or "agemono",

one of which is "koromo-age",

or batter-fried foods.

Now the most typical
batter-fried food is tempura,

which is composed of

lightly-battered
vegetables and fish

which are quick-fried.

Now before attempting this feat

of edible legerdemain at home,

you may wish to seek out

a Japanese restaurant
with a reputation for tempura.

If the establishment
is tempura-serious,

the distance
between hot oil and patron

will be as short as possible,

as tempura should be consumed

as soon as it, you know,

won't burn off
the inside of your mouth.

Ooh!
Here's some of my favorite --

Sweet potato.

Arigato.

It's interesting to note

that like so many technologies

perfected by the Japanese --

from transistor radios
to trains,

cellphones to peaches -

tempura is a Western import,
okay?

Now in 1494,

Spain and Portugal signed
the Treaty of Tordesillas,

which divided
all newly discovered lands --

meaning most of the planet --

between them for the purpose

of bringing Catholicism
and, of course, trade,

to the heathen world,

a mission for which they had
the blessing of the Pope.

Now Japan
fell into Portugal's territory.

And in 1549,

a Jesuit
by the name of Francis Xavier

landed at Kagoshima

and began his good work.

Now by converting
the nobility first,

the Portuguese met with
considerable success initially,

even teaching the Japanese
a few culinary tricks

to help them navigate
Catholic fasting days

such as the Quatuor Tempora,
I think,

which took place
every quarter of the year.

Now during this time,
the clergy consumed mostly fish,

which they typically
batter-fried.

Now Christianity was eventually
outlawed in Japan in 1587.

But the method,
whose name morphed

from "tempora" to "tempura,"
stuck.

And over time,

the Japanese refined it
into a high art,

something that I intend
to do right now.

So we'll just take
a couple of pieces

back to the lab for analysis.

Domo arigato.

Further examination
of the sample

reveals a thoroughly cooked
base food

encapsulated in
a crystalline crust

which exhibits proper adhesion
and a snappy -- well, snap.

What's more,
there is no outward sign

of greasiness whatsoever.

It's no wonder that tempura

scares the toques
off so many cooks,

as amazing forces
are clearly at work.

But monstrous?

I think not.
The way I see it,

if we're going
to be victorious over tempura,

the food
must be prepped perfectly,

the oil
must be carefully chosen,

and heated
to an exact temperature.

And the batter --

well, that's going to be
the tricky part.

It must be light and crisp.

Flavorful, but not greasy.

That'll be a challenge.

But first, we prep the food.

Traditionally,
tempura is a method

for cooking vegetation
and mild white seafood.

My favorites --

Ah! Slender green beans --

fresh as possible,
of course,

flat-leaf parsley,

the wider the leaves,
the better,

shrimp, medium, head on,
fresh, never frozen.

And, we'll say,
1/2 pound of tilapia fillet --

A very, very mild fish,
good for tacos and tempura.

That's about it.

But wait, there's more.

Root and storage vegetables
have always...

occupied a place of honor
at the tempura table.

Renkon, or lotus root,

kabocha squash, bamboo shoots,

all highly prized.

But as I said,
my favorite is the sweet potato,

originally grown in the region
around Kagoshima,

where, of course,
the Jesuits first landed.

Now the Japanese developed their
own version of this import,

but they're a little
tough to find.

So you can use anything

that you would get
at the mega mart.

The jewel variety,

the Beauregard variety
are fine.

But I prefer the garnets,

because they are
the perfect size and shape

for this application.

All right, listen up.

Tempura cooks fast,
so tempura cooks hot.

And so our target foods

require a high
surface-to-mass ratio.

No problem with the beans,

which require
only a cursory trimming,

or for the parsley --

we'll just take
some of the stem off.

There, that's perfect.

As for the shrimp,

we need to remove
the shells and the legs.

So I just use scissors

and snip them right down
the back.

But we want to leave the tails
and the heads on.

That's important for tempura.

Now as far as the tilapia,

I just split each one
of the fillets,

and then cut
into one-inch slices.

As for the sweet potato,
it is hard,

and that means we'll need

even more surface area
to cook it quickly.

So thin slices are in order,
say an 1/8 inch max.

And although I certainly
could do that with a knife,

you know, if I wanted,

it would be hard,
and it would take a long time.

So we break out the mandoline.

[ Gasps ]

Thing, do you never grow weary
of that gag.

Because I, for one, think
it was funny about 1.2 times!

I speak, of course, of this.

Now, this is
a nice little, handheld,

ceramic-bladed mandoline.

You can use any slicer
with a fixed blade like this.

But if it comes
with a hand guard,

always make sure you utilize it.

And this?
this needs to be peeled.

Thank you very much.
Here we go.

So once you have all of
your mise en place done,

go ahead and wrap
and refrigerate,

so that you can
contemplate the batter.

♪♪

Boy howdy,
I wish I had a nickel

for every card, letter, fax,
text, or e-mail I've received

asking why I don't utilize

one of the shiny,
new countertop deep-fryers

that has, you know, come on
the market in recent years.

Well, I'll tell you.

Even if this device could reach
the temperature it claims,

which I have yet to witness,

and even if it wasn't
a tremendous pain to use,

which it is,
and even if it was

as quick and easy
to clean as it says,

which it isn't,
it would still be, at best,

a unitasker,
and you know what I think of --

Wait.
You know, that's unfair.

I can think of one other thing
this would be good for.

Now, let's consider some more
traditional vessels, shall we?

Once upon a time,
tempura was fried up

in heavy, iron, wok-like vessels
called "Agemono Nabe."

Now the metal
is extremely thick,

so this takes a long time
to heat up.

And the narrow bowl shape
makes it all but impossible

to cook more than one piece
of tempura at a time.

If you ask me,
this is a tool

for very, very
picky professionals,

and that certainly rules me out.

Now we could use this nice
modern tempura pot.

It's made out of thin iron,

so it responds
to temperature changes quickly.

It's coated,
so it's non-reactive --

No rusting.
It's nice.

A really, really fine
multitasker.

But it's expensive
and kind of hard to find,

unlike the vessel

that we so often turn to
when we deep-fry.

I speak, of course,
of the cast-iron Dutch oven.

It is cheap, readily available,

and just heavy enough

to make heat control
more manageable.

Speaking of heat management,

I always fry
with a fry thermometer,

and I prefer an analog model
over digital,

because that little
rising red column of liquid

gives me a better indication

of how quickly thermal changes
are taking place in this pot,

and that's important.

When facing
the dread tempura monster,

one might be tempted
to get all fancy

with the fry oil.

After all, modern cooks

have access to dozens
of different oils,

including those harvested

from nuts, seeds, fruits,
various vegetation.

Some are cold-pressed.
Others are unrefined.

All have specific flavor
profiles

and optimal temperature ranges.

Oh! Although sesame oil,
for instance,

has often been implicated
in classic tempura scenarios,

plain, good old vegetable oil

is my tempura fuel of choice,

because it is completely
devoid of flavor,

it is cheap, biodegradable,

and if I'm careful,

I can filter it
for use another day.

1 1/2 quarts should do the job.

The oil is in.

The thermometer is attached,

and the heat set to high.

We're looking for 375 degrees.

And keep in mind,
oil heats faster than water,

so don't wander away.

This will happen quickly.

Make sure the rest
of your hardware is in place.

You'll need two bowls.

Ice will go in here.

The batter will go in here.
More on that later.

You'll need some tongs
to deliver the food

from the batter
over to the oil.

When the food is ready,
we will retrieve with a spider

or some other straining device
to the draining rig.

My draining rig, paper towels
on top of a cooling rack,

on top of a sheet pan.

I also have standing by
the final resting place --

some nice simple platters.

And look, plain white paper.

This is very traditional
for tempura.

But make sure you don't
fold it straight on the angle.

You want it to be
just barely off-angle.

But don't get it backwards,

because I'm pretty sure

that means "funeral"
in Japanese.

In this cuisine,
everything means something.

Behold, the Japanese characters
for tempura,

which translates roughly
into "flour like gauze"

or "batter like
revealing dress,"

depending on how you read it.

Now when the Portuguese

first unleashed tempura...
-[ Roaring ]

...upon Nippon,

the batter was simply water,
wheat flour, and egg.

Now, I have tried every possible
combination thereof,

and cannot for the life of me
come up with anything

even remotely like the sample
that we examined earlier.

As you can see,
clunky, greasy, nasty,

like really bad fish and chips.

The problem as I see it
is, of course, gluten.

As any good
"Good Eats" fan knows,

anytime we mix wheat flour
and water together,

two molecules,
glutenin and gliadin,

unwind and intertwine,

forming a resilient,
yet elastic matrix.

Gluten is springy.
Gluten is tough.

And what's worse,

gluten holds on
to both water and fat.

This translates to gummy,
greasy tempura.

Not exactly "gauze like
revealing dress"

or whatever it was.

So here's the goal.

We're going
to minimize the gluten.

That means using ingredients

that minimize water
and glutenin and gliadin,

and we're going
to mix the batter

as quickly as possible.

And since gluten can form
just sitting in the bowl,

we're going to make the batter

at the very last possible moment
before frying.

First things first --

Let's reconsider the flour.

Now instead of 10 ounces
of all-purpose flour,

let's try five ounces each

of rice flour
and unbleached cake flour.

Now rice flour,

easily obtained
at most mega marts

and certainly Asian markets,

contains
no gluten-forming molecules.

And cake flour is finely milled,

so it integrates quickly
into batters.

Why is unbleached important?

Well, let's consider
a starch granule, shall we?

The process of bleaching

isn't just about
making the flour white,

though that certainly
is a factor.

It's really about making
the starch granules themselves

more fat-friendly,

a positive characteristic
in cake baking.

Now bleaching chemically cracks
open the starchy structure.

There, it is now
more fat-soluble.

By using
an unbleached cake flour,

you can avoid
this over-friendliness.

Now if you can't
find unbleached,

go ahead with
regular cake flour,

but know that it will make
a subtle difference,

and tempura success is all about
subtle differences.

♪♪

Keeping the tempura batter cold

will slow the absorption
of liquid into the flour,

and that's why we're going
to set the batter bowl

down into an ice bath.

As for the batter itself,

if we switch out the water

that's called for
in most recipes

with either seltzer water
or club soda,

we'll introduce a lot
of tiny bubbles

into the batter,
which will lighten it.

CO2 also makes the water
slightly acidic,

and that is going to help
to limit gluten formation.

You know what else
would limit gluten formation?

We could replace
some of the water

with another liquid altogether,

one that doesn't contain
much water or oil.

Hmm, what would that be?

Alcohol is a liquid,
but it's not water.

It doesn't tend
to soak into flour.

It does not contribute
to the construction of gluten.

And since it evaporates

at a relatively low
78 degrees Celsius,

any batter containing it
should, technically speaking,

dry faster
than one that is water-based.

1/2 of 80-proof vodka --
that's 40% alcohol by volume --

can stand in
for 1/2 cup of water.

100-proof vodka, even better.

So in the end,

we replace everything
but the egg.

We do require the services
of one large egg,

because it will provide fat
for flavor, color,

and protein for binding.

Just one will do.

All right,
our fry oil is at 365,

quickly closing in on 375.

Time to batter up.

We have the one egg, beaten,

both flours, and the vodka,
and the water.

So go ahead and combine
all of the wet team together,

and all the dry team together,

then halve them.

That's right.
You see, in tempura,

the fresher the batter,
the better,

because as the few wheat glutens
that are there sit in the water,

they are going to toughen.

So I'm going to actually use up
one small batch,

and then make
another batch halfway through.

Believe me,
at some tempura joints,

they make a separate batch
of batter

for every single order.
I have seen it.

So we take our first batch
of batter over to the bowl.

And keep in mind, ice is here,

because cold batter hydrates
more slowly than a warm batter.

So the dry team goes in,

and the wet team goes on top,

and then we mix.

Oh, notice, I am using a whisk

rather than the traditional
tempura mixing chopsticks,

or hanabashi,

which look a lot
like drumsticks,

if you ask me.

Mixing -- about 10 strokes,
and then just walk away.

Walk away.

Yeah, I know, lumps.

But they will
work themselves out.

Don't worry.
All right, let's fry.

I always start with the hardest
vegetable I have.

In this case,
that would be the sweet potato,

and six pieces will do.

More than that,
and we'll crowd the pan.

Make sure
you've got thorough coating,

but also drain thoroughly.

We don't want any big glops
of batter.

There we go.

And make sure
you put them in one at a time

so they don't touch.

Heat management here is key,
so check your thermometer often.

And just ride the heat control
to maintain the temperature

between 375 and 400, tops.

Now, in two to three minutes,

you'll see the color change
on the batter to light brown,

and the sizzling
will start to diminish a little.

That's when you know it's time
to evacuate to the draining rig.

Now, next, we'll go with
the second-hardest vegetable,

being the beans.

Again, about six pieces
at a time,

thorough coating
and thorough draining.

Don't skip that part.

There you go.

And again,
try to keep them separated

as they go in
so they won't stick.

Cook time, again,
one to two minutes.

Manage that heat properly, 375.

When you've got light brown,

out that goes.

And just put that next
to the sweet potatoes

over on the rack.

There, that looks good.

Last, but not least,
we'll go with the parsley.

It has
the shortest cooking time.

Don't let go of it.

Just kind of swirl
it around in the batter.

It's going to look very kind
of club-like, but don't worry.

If you put them in one piece

at a time,
kind of laying them out,

they will spread open or bloom.

I generally let these cook
only 30 to 45 seconds,

because I still want to have
that bright green flavor.

There, that's perfect.

And evacuate.

Hard-core tempurists
will tell you

that you should cook each item

and then serve it individually.

Me, I kind of like
to have, you know,

a little medley on the plate.

So I go with
all three of the vegetables

in small batches,

and then come back
and do the seafood.

Ah, as the lucky diners
receive the golden goodness

you hath wrought,

they should quickly
dip each piece

into the soy-ginger sauce.

Oh, bother.

♪♪

Our soy-ginger tempura sauce

begins with ginger,
oddly enough.

We'll need two tablespoons,
freshly grated.

And I like to use a ginger
grater lined with plastic.

It makes cleanup
a heck of a lot easier.

That looks like two tablespoons.

Next, we need two tablespoons,
also of green onion.

I like to use just the first
four inches or so, chopped.

Two cloves of garlic minced.

All that goes into a jar
or other sealable container,

along with two teaspoons
of sugar,

one teaspoon of sesame oil,

1/2 cup of rice wine vinegar,

and finally,
1/2 cup of soy sauce.

I like the low-sodium kind.

Just seal that up
and give it a shake to combine.

It'll keep for about a week.

Or, of course,
you can eat it right away.

Mmm. Mmm.

Now with the vegetation
consumed,

you should slip off
and cook the seafood,

while your guests stay behind

and talk about what a genius
you are behind your back.

So, time
to mix up our second half

of the batter,
again, over ice

to keep it nice and cold --

No more than about 10 whisks
with the whisk.

And then the fish comes in.

We're going to start
with the tilapia.

Five pieces, tops.

Again, after that
we'd be crowding the pan,

which we don't want to do.

The colder the fish is,
by the way,

the better the batter
will stick.

So you might want
to keep it refrigerated

if a lot of time
is going to pass.

Into the oil.
Again, 375 minimum,

or things will get greasy.

Watch that heat management.

After about two minutes,
you should have something

that looks like this.
Excellent.

Now the shrimp's a little more
fragile,

so take your time with it.

Again, make sure you've got
the tail fin still in place,

because that's
how you're going to hold it.

See? Nice drain

and then headfirst into the oil.

Again, two minutes, tops,

and you should have something
that looks a lot like this.

Typically,
the shrimp has to drain

just a little longer
than the fish

in order to not be greasy.

There.

Well,
I hope we've inspired you

to tackle tempura
in your own kitchen.

Just remember the three keys --

Proportionally prepped
ingredients,

vegetable oil heated
and held at 375 degrees,

and a gluten-light batter,

made ice-cold
at the last minute.

-[ Growls ]
-Oh, there, see?

A once-dreaded,
10-story-tall engine of doom

is reduced to a perfectly docile
culinary critter.

Now go get the mail,
wash the car,

and maybe we'll play fetch.

-[ Growls ]
-Good boy.

[ Laughs ]

See you next time
on "Good Eats."