Shinobi Valley has seen a lot of action in the past few weeks. We’ve found ourselves defending the reputation of food blogging and simultaneously trying to understand our critics, delving into everything from the ethics of DSLR artillery to racial issues associated with the written word to the omnipresent can of sell-out politics which is the Blogger Financial Crisis. Questions have been asked and answered, often with questions thornier and more delicate than their predecessors. And after somewhat spurious deliberation, the team has decided to implement a number of changes to its operations, as follows:

1. Attack Notification. We won’t go into the boring details, but our mission policy now involves clear notification to forewarn our targets of impending attack. The new policy aims to improve relations between bloggers and restauranteurs while also upholding professional assassin standards related to courtesy and mutual respect. Of course, we anticipate a barrage of sell-out accusations and horses’ heads in our bed, but we nevertheless encourage you to let us know your views on this matter.
2. Verdicts. We have been inundated with requests to include a scoring system in our posts, and have made our reasons for not doing so clear on many occasions. However, we accept that it is often difficult to cut through our dazzling wit and erudition to figure out what we actually think of a target. As a compromise, we will be trialling a Verdicts system, with a final one-sentence summary at the end of each post. The success and continuation of this will rely very much upon your feedback, so let us know whether it’s floating your boat or depth-charging it.
3. Renovations. Yes, the template is old and plain. Yes, we will soon be reborn in a blaze of immolatory awesomeness. However, between slayings and glory and the odd zombie apocalypse it’s often hard for us to find the time to pretty up the Valley. Stay sharp as we introduce changes to the site’s operation and layout.
4. More shurikens. Because we are only deadly accurate sometimes.

Please let us know what you think of these changes and give us any suggestions you might have for the site.

Cordial Regards,

The Ninja

They say that when one drops, one has no time to think. They are wrong. As one shoots through the air, all one’s petty thoughts and mundane musings are stripped away, leaving only silence in one’s head. Weaker minds take this silence to be the lack of thought, overwhelmed by fear or panic or other such emotions. Ninjas, when they drop, instinctively recognise this silence for something more. They recognise it as their life.

The city gapes below, slick and intoxicating like a slab of Smirnoff Double-Blacks. Somewhere are my targets, somewhere my mission amongst the myriad malls and scum-wasted alleys, up in a lofty tower or down by the half-rusted spokes of a toothless squatter’s bicycle. Somewhere, someone dies, but the living only look to the stars. I breathe the silence. I drop.

Starting this Sunday, my mission reports will be posted regularly to this site, recording my efforts in completing my primary mission: to find the best food in Singapore. This series of reports will continue for two weeks, with my concluding remarks to be compiled at the conclusion of the series. As always, I hope that you find my reports interesting, informative, or otherwise trivially amusing.

And a Happy New Year to all who celebrated it:

Cordial Regards,

The Ninja

This will be the last post before my impending foreign deployment. I will endeavour to report back from the field on a regular basis, but cannot guarantee any sort of scheduled interval between such reports. As I am not one for much sentiment, I merely wish you good hunting, and remember: invisible is the new black.

Regards,

The Ninja

Mini-ninja courtesy of Brian

]]> http://theninjareview.com/2010/01/brb/feed/ 5 http://theninjareview.com/2010/01/a-foodblogger-christmas/ http://theninjareview.com/2010/01/a-foodblogger-christmas/#comments Sun, 03 Jan 2010 01:50:04 +0000 The Ninja http://theninjareview.com/?p=582

One rainswept evening in the middle of December, a carrier Tweet limps through my window and deposits with its dying breath some fecal matter and a coded message. As I spar with the Cherry Blossom Champions, an up-and-coming band of assassins, I decrypt the message to find that I have been invited to FFIchiban‘s command tower to retrospectively celebrate Christmas. I bow to the last pink-clad ninja and rejoice in my good fortune. Barely a week later, I scale the isolated building’s walls with my bare hands and swing through a window with glass-shattering grace, only to find myself confronted with a monstrous evil:

Behind the mutilated donuts sits a creature who declares herself Evil Priestess of the Lutherburger:

As we duel with magic and katanas, the Evil Priestess informs me that a Lutherburger comprises of a hamburger patty and various other addenda sandwiched between two halves of a Krispy Kreme donut. This explains the mutilated husks of sugary innocence which litter the tower, but I am as of yet not convinced by the merit of this pagan exercise. When confronted by the finished product, however, I become an instant convert.

The Evil Priestess’ version of the Lutherburger involves combining the hamburger patties with bacon (a foodblogger staple), fried eggs, almost-plastic cheese and slices of pineapple for health benefits. The combination of crispily-punished bacon and gooey egg yolk is delectable in itself, but when infused with the slathered sugar-coating of the donuts it becomes something akin to a foodblogger’s nirvana and a dietician’s worst nightmare or night-out. FFIchiban and I select out of the numerous burgers and take down our respective targets with glee.

As the morning turns to afternoon, the foodbloggers parade in with their various wares. Leona brings a platter of crispy-spicy samosas from Newtown:

A Hungry Penguin tries to stay healthy and brings some home-brewed potato salad:

And a dastardly yet oddly jolly Foodie delivers a platter of chicken-balls laced with a “Surprise”:

My intel reports confirm the suspicions of the other foodbloggers and I quickly identify and disarm the wasabi-laced bomb without flinching.  Some wag in the group suggests that next time the Foodie lace every ball save one with wasabi, an ironic take on the “Surprise” principle. I am not especially enamoured with this and challenge the Foodie to a duel but am dissuaded by the promise of a second beer.

In commemoration of the year past, Billy has brought out a well-matured can of whale meat and presented it for group-tasting. However, despite the appreciative noises and contemplative expressions of the foodbloggers as they sample the slightly peppery-sweet mince of cetacean flesh, none are willing to finish off the quivering lump of whale-fat lurking at the bottom of the can. As another wag who shall remain nameless suggests it to be the “sperm whale’s sperm sac”, I assume Levitating Lotus Position #3 (Squinted Eyes), lever my chopsticks into the can, and – to a backdrop of horrified silence and an environmentalist’s distant scream – casually flick the jelly-like blob into my mouth. The fat has a creamy texture that fully reflects its wobbly antics in the can, with a strong aftertaste that oscillates between pork-belly and vomitus.

I cleanse my assaulted palate with one of Helen‘s famous cupcakes, letting the rose salt burn away the last traces of my Nipponese ordeal and savouring the paedagogic normality of the strawberry jam lodged within.

And minutes later, we take turns appeasing our inner pyromaniacs with turns using Steph‘s mini-blowtorch on both her pillowy marshmallow cake and a few unfortunate excess marshmallows.

The antics continue into the night but I am forced to depart early to complete another highly-dangerous mission in dark woods atop a mountain. The year’s end draws closer, not with bang nor whimper but a soft sigh of completion, almost like the gentle swing of a katana through the leaves.

And a bonus bit of hilarity involving the Lutherburger.

Much like a heavily discounted bargain-bin CD, we were tossed around, snapped in various places, and generally encountered multifold worlds of pain in 2009. I, the Ninja, fought countless battles against boundless stupidity and underwent numerous self-administered blood transfusions, while the Shooter barely survived his war with the greatest foe of mankind. Yet we managed to ninja on, eating and writing and photographing in our relentless pursuit of elusive glory. Without further ado, here are the Top Five Missions of 2009 for The Ninja Review:

#5: Gwen’s

The review was average, the food was atrocious, yet my solo assassination mission to Gwen’s is, without a doubt, the most-viewed post of 2009. The Shooter and I have consulted each other about this anomaly on many occasions and concluded that, given the derisive nature of my review, we have done the public a great service by dissuading many a diner from eating at this now-ignominious establishment. We live to serve, and serve we have.

#4: Ton-Ton

While I am loath to revisit the event of my inglorious defeat at the doorstep of Mad Cow, Ton-Ton is the undisputed bastion of The Ninja Review and, by logical extension, deserves a mention in the summary of this year. The Shooter and I seem to inevitably gravitate towards this homely eatery of happy kaarage and comforting ramen whenever we find ourselves in the city, and our love of this hole-in-the-wall shop has not diminished with repeated visitation. We will be back next year, most likely within the first week or two.

#3: Pino’s Pizzeria

Our balmy excursion to Pino’s was the first on which we took a Guest, a choice which sparked a great deal more interest in accompanying me and the Shooter. Since then various others have joined the ranks of Guests and cannon/shuriken fodder, making for exciting nights of fun and gastronomic profit. I thank our first Guest here for his presence at that calming afternoon of hearty fare and many a chuckle.

#2: Wagaya

On this day the Shooter joined me in glorious battle for the first time. We clashed with semi-literate computer screens and small amounts of wasabi, taking down a small feast delivered from Wagaya’s kitchens. A Ninjya Cocktail, some beers and many bites later, we stumbled away from the wreckage with our spirits soaring for the future ahead. New Year’s Eves are about new beginnings as much as ends, and Wagaya was our beginning, the start of a long and slightly-lucrative partnership.

#1: The Best Italian Food in Sydney

That was a good day.

—

We also partied, rampaged, and brought the Team to Melbourne. Who knows what will come next year? My clients probably do, but they only inform me of the details when required for a mission. My Shooter and I are certainly looking foward to a year of enjoyable eating and profitable slaying. Survival pending, we shall be back, deadly accurate and more or less sober. I am the Ninja, and I bid you farewell for the year.