By Moonsong: Food Reimagined

By Moonsong: Food Reimagined

Friday night. Cocktails by candlelight. The analog sounds of Curtis Mayfield and Etta James reverberate around the bar and lounge area of Conspiracy, a second floor, Main Street Middletown attraction, but that’s only the beginning of the sensory joyride you’ve chosen to embark on. What these vinyl vibes carry with them is the crackle of pork chashu torched to perfection, the sizzling sounds of Japanese sweet potato caramelizing on the griddle, and a handsome bowl of spicy miso destined for a beloved belly. Bask in the glory of craft ramen and cocktails. Slurp like you’ve never slurped before.

This is ramen by moonsong, and like all great adventures, it starts with a story. Two culinary transplants, one from Boston, one from New York, meet in New London, Connecticut. Conversation develops and so does a concept: there is no such thing as waste, but another product to be made.

Wesley

Two weeks before turning 21, I made a trip out to Western Massachusetts, to help a friend move into their new apartment. We found ourselves riding the longboard wave that swept the East Coast and when in Rome, or hilly Western MA, there’s nothing better to do. After a day’s work, we rode off into town, enjoying the setting sunshine, the cool summer breeze, and the whoosh of our wheels that trailed behind. Soon it came time to wrap things up. My friends had made their way to the bottom of a hill, but what they didn’t know was that I had hit a small patch of sand on a slope not too far behind them. I had spun around and been bucked off of my board. The world went black even before I even hit the pavement. In and out of consciousness, I finally awoke at the entrance to a hospital and walked into the ER lobby, letting the receptionist know that I didn’t feel quite right. Once admitted, things escalated quickly. The bleach-white boy in the waiting room wasn’t suffering from a stomach bug, he had fractured his skull and received a massive concussion.

“My life flashed before my eyes.” At least that’s what you’re supposed to say. For me, the curtains had closed to sports and to life as a student of Berklee College of Music. What followed was rest, recovery

“Bask in the glory of craft ramen and cocktails.”

and pizza. At the urging of a friend, I started washing dishes for a local pizza chain in order to earn a few bucks and cash in on the promise of free food. I loved it. It felt familiar; we were a giant band that rehearsed during the day and put on a show every single night. I was instantly entranced by the energy that this new element provided and followed these breadcrumbs to Boston. From the Salvadorian cuisine of East Somerville to the white linen establishments of Back Bay, I came to realize that it was all the same - I was surrounded by chefs who poured their heart and soul into their work. Everything they did embodied an undeniable sense of community. The food producers were their best friends, the guests were family, and everyone had each other’s back. You would expect cutthroat competition and an eagerness to trash your ‘opponents’, but not here. Like these chefs, I myself sought a deep connection to my work. However, I was looking for something different. I was looking to leap out into another world. Enter: Brigaid, the school food program piloted by the New London Public School District, which aimed to change school food by putting chefs in each cafeteria in order to serve meals from scratch.

Angeline

Growing up, dinner was the most important event of the day. It was common for us to set the table and sit down as a family to a meal of fish, meat, vegetables and soup. Each dish was seasoned to act in harmony with a bowl of steaming hot, perfectly cooked rice. Justice was done to each ingredient that made it onto our plate through great cooking and utilization of the entire plant or animal. I didn’t know it then, but each time we gathered at the table was a tangible expression of love, gratitude and respect for life.

Fast forward to college, where I gained exposure to the way other people thought about food and quickly saw that it was not the same. Broccoli stems, my favorite part of the plant, ended up in the trash faster than I could object. After graduating from UConn, I took a position as a laboratory assistant and unfortunately discovered that I hated everything about it. A period of introspection made up my mind: “I am an amalgam of both Chinese and American, striving to represent the best values of both. Food is a fundamental meeting point of each culture’s vices and virtues. I am going to learn how to cook.” I moved to New York City, and while working, I curated my own education through unpaid internships called “stages” during all of my free time. I was obsessed with learning as much as I could about the food world. I began to see food as a creator of community and as an agent of change. This is what ultimately led me to Brigaid.

“Slurp like you’ve never slurped before.”

Together

In the summer of 2017, Brigaid gave each chef the opportunity to take time off for professional development. Though we didn’t know each other well at the time, Wesley agreed to feed the fish and plants of Angeline’s empty apartment. As our friendship grew, we discovered that what brought us to Brigaid, also brought us together. Our ideals aligned, as did our passion for good food, especially ramen. After long hours in the cafeterias, we would sit under the moon and the stars and talk about work, life, past, present, future and ramen - the best bowls we’ve had, the worst bowls we’ve had, and the legendary bowls we would like to have. New beginnings, born by moonsong.

Both of us left Brigaid in the summer of 2018. Without too much thought as to exactly where we were going, we decided to go for it. We began a series of ramen pop ups amidst an array of odd jobs. By pairing ourselves with restaurant friends in Mystic, Middletown, and Boston, we were able to take over their space for the evening and serve our own menu. By luck, we met Mark and Jen Sabo, the masterminds behind Conspiracy, a pre-Prohibition style cocktail bar in Middletown. We settled into this beautiful, quirky space and established a residency in January 2019.

At Conspiracy, we operate like a restaurant. Still, we remind ourselves daily that by moonsong is a concept.

“We would sit under the moon and the stars and talk about work, life, past, present, future and ramen...”

Our guiding principle is that “there is no such thing as waste, but another product to be made.” We want to affect the problem of food waste through utilization and redistribution within the local food community: from food producer, to chef, to guest. We choose to create food using underutilized products from food producers, with the goal of creating a market demand for those products. In this way, we aspire to revolutionize the way people think about food.

Within our short time of operation, we’ve already begun to see results. Seacoast Mushrooms is an organic mushroom farm in Mystic, Connecticut, owned, farmed, and operated by Chris Pacheco. In the beginning of our pop up series, we were able to get shiitake pins, which are the shiitake that are culled to allow others to grow bigger and more beautiful. Typically these would be discarded, but we gave the pins a second life by marinating them in maple syrup and brown rice vinegar, creating a dish of shiitake pickles. The pins themselves gained a reputation amongst the restaurants of eastern Connecticut, and soon became a commodity that we no longer had access to. They became valuable! We still have access

to other mushroom trim from the growing and harvest processes and continue to turn what no other retailer or consumer would buy today into integral parts of our dishes. The mushroom shoyu ramen on our opening menu owes its depth of flavor exclusively to Chris’s excellent product.

Essentially, this is the food revolution that by moonsong wants to intensify in Connecticut. We are optimistic that there will be more stories like Seacoast Mushrooms as we continue “to go for it.” A restaurant can be a source of comfort, but it is also a place of experimentation. At by moonsong, we will continue to provide both through our concept. Our menus will change with not just our availability, but with the availability of those food producers we have yet to meet and the new perspectives we have yet to gain. We invite all people to participate in the revolution, either with us in our space or at other like-minded restaurants. We want to inspire you to pick the weird stuff, ask questions, learn techniques. And finally, bring it all home.