drink | eat | xxxx | repeat

Lemon Zucchini Cupcakes

2011-07-02T02:06:00.010-04:00

Lemon Zucchini Cupcake w/Cream Cheese Frosting

This will be a quick post, as the recipe I used was adapted from one already listed online. Thanks, Martha!

I made these for a friend's birthday, and just changed things up a bit to suit my taste, and make them more festive. (Side vent: M complained that these were not 'cupcakes,' but more like sweet bread with frosting. That boy is so spoiled nowadays when it comes to sweet treats. Puh!)

I'm too lazy to transcribe the recipe, but if you look at the link, I just nixed the spices in favor of the zest of one lemon (I don't know why, but it seems I need to add lemon zest to everything lately), used light brown sugar instead of dark brown sugar, and added my own adorable decorative flair atop the cream cheese frosting. (Also, if I were to make the frosting again, I would decrease the sugar by about 1/3, and maybe add some yogurt to temper the sugariness.)

En masse

Cute, right? I shaved some extra dark chocolate over the frosting to cut the sweetness a little. I also had some leftover zucchini, and while in the shower and waiting for the cupcakes to cool, I got the brilliant idea to make little zucchini tuiles.

Here's how it goes:

Zucchini Tuiles:

Zucchini

Lemon juice

10x (confectioner's) sugar

Silpat

Nonstick cooking spray

Mandoline (or a very sharp knife and some patience)

Preheat the oven to 300 F.

Slice the zucchini as paper thin as possible, without it falling apart. Soak slices in a shallow dish of lemon juice for about 5 minutes. Remove and lay them out on a paper towel to dry, dabbing the tops.

Spray silpat with nonstick spray, and wipe off gently with paper towel.

Lay zucchini out on silpat.

Dust a thick layer of confectioner's sugar through a strainer over zucchini, until they look white.

Flip and repeat.

Cook in oven until the sugar is caramelized (lower oven to 250 or 275 if the zucchini looks like it's cooking too much).
Remove from oven, and let cool for a few seconds.
Very carefully (hot!) remove and fold in half twice to make a flower shape, one by one. If they start to become hard, flash them in the oven for 3 minutes or so to re-soften them. (This step might be too uncomfortable for people whose hands have not already lost all sensitivity to temperature due to working in a kitchen. If that is the case, the tuiles are quite pretty even lying flat, and taste like delicious little lemon candy, with a slight vegetal note.)

[Note: the more discerning viewer might notice that my cupcakes are a little unconventional in form, and lacking cupcake liners. That's 'cause I don't own a cupcake pan, and so made these in my popover pan, sans papers. Resourceful!]

Brunch Rehearsal: Oeufs Cocotte w/Garlic Bread, Blueberry Baked French Toast w/Lemon Basil Creme Anglaise

2011-07-01T23:50:00.025-04:00

My past few posts seem to have been sort of...complain-y, so here is something nice and not so complain-y, more feel good-y.

My sister is getting married this August, and I--for reasons unknown to myself--have agreed to 'cater' a post-wedding brunch to be served the following day, when most likely I and everyone else in attendance will be nursing hangovers of varying degrees. I guess a big reason is because she's my sister, and it seemed like a nice gesture, but really the bigger reason is that I am perpetually broke, and will probably be getting her something worse and cheaper than a toaster as a wedding gift, so this is a compensational catering, of sorts.
To add a fun Top Chef-esque twist, I will be preparing this brunch (for roughly 30 people) in a foreign kitchen, in a rented mountain house in Utah, which I have never before seen and will not see until the evening before the wedding.
So! Here we go.

I came up with a menu comprised of dishes that can be made beforehand, and then reheated before serving, as well as ones that can be prepared and served family style--AKA Casserole Brunch Bonanza! I invited K over to be my tasting guinea pig for my first run of the two main casseroles, which will be:

Oeufs Cocotte w/Garlic Bread, Ricotta, Grape Tomatoes, and Basil

[Do not click to enlarge]

For the wedding, though, it will be made family style, i.e. A Giant Egg Casserole.

It was a test, actually, to see if I could pull off cooking the eggs without a water bath, and having the whites set while the yolks are still runny. It took a couple times of throwing them back in the oven, but was an eventual success!

And on the sweet side,

Blueberry Baked French Toast w/Lemon Basil Creme Anglaise

[Not Pictured]

It was pretty tasty, but let's just say that I definitely need to work on its aesthetic appeal.

The oeufs cocotte (I don't know if you can properly call them that) turned out to be incredibly delicious, and stupid easy--always a winning combination. If you ever want to impress a couple of friends by making brunch, get yourself a good, crusty baguette, use 1/4 for the recipe, and serve the rest alongside. Champagne is optional. (Just kidding, it's not. Unless opting for beer, or an appropriate wine or cocktail. Brunch without booze is just a fatty meal at an awkward time of day. You needs the champagne.)

Lazy Oeufs Cocotte (Baked Eggs):

4 small ramekins - sprayed with nonstick spray

4 large eggs

1 cup fresh ricotta

5-6 grape tomatoes

Extra virgin olive oil

Maldon salt (or kosher salt)

Fresh black pepper

1 sprig (4 or 5 leaves) fresh basil

Pecorino (or parmesan, or any tasty, salty cheese)

Small piece of crusty bread (can be day old), enough to amount to about 1 cup cubed

1 garlic clove

Preheat oven to 400 F.

Cut garlic in half and rub all over your bread. Cut bread into cubes, toss in a generous drizzle of olive oil, sprinkle with salt, and toast on a sheet pan until edges start to brown. Set aside. (Garlic bread cubes can be made up to a day in advance.)

Spray ramekins.

Plop in 2 or 3 small spoonfuls of ricotta into each ramekin. Sprinkle with small pinch of salt, and few turns of pepper.

Add garlic bread cubes.

Crack 1 egg into each.

Slice tomatoes in half and place into ramekin in aesthetically pleasing position. Sprinkle more salt and pepper. Top with a generous pinch of pecorino (or cheese of your choice) and small drizzle of olive oil.

Bake in oven until whites have mostly set, but yolk still jiggles (this is where it got tricky, and I don't actually have an accurate time...15-20 minutes? Sorry.)

When ready, remove from oven and let cool a bit on rack. Chiffonade basil, sprinkle small amount on each. Finish with Maldon (and more cheese if you like). Enjoy!

[For bigger ramekins, pretty much just double everything.]

The french toast is still a work in progress, and so I won't be posting a recipe for now. Hopefully if all goes well, I'll have one later. I can say that the lemon basil creme anglaise I made was quite delicious, and could easily complement a number of dishes. For now, perhaps someone can fiddle with that:

Lemon Basil Creme Anglaise:

1 bunch fresh basil

Zest of 1 lemon

500 ml (17 oz) milk

1/2 vanilla bean, split and scraped, or vanilla extract (optional)

5 egg yolks

100 g (3 1/2 oz) sugar

Put milk, basil, lemon zest, and vanilla in a pot, bring to a boil. Remove from heat, strain and let cool about 1 minute.

Meanwhile, separate the eggs, whisk the yolks and sugar together until it turns pale yellow.

Add hot milk to eggs slowly, while whisking to temper.

Return mixture to pot, cook over medium heat stirring constantly (zig-zag formation is beset, scraping the bottom and corners) with a rubber or wooden spatula, until it thickens slightly.* (Keep stirring, and be wary of curdling! Don't let it get too hot, or you'll cook your eggs--take the pot off the heat once in a while if it seems like it's getting too hot.)

Strain through a fine chinois into a bowl set over ice and stir until it stops steaming.

Use for whatever you like!

*If using for baked french toast, you don't need to cook it all the way (to nappant), because it will be cooked again, anyway. If you want to use it as a sauce, cook until nappant (coats the back of a spoon, or rubber spatula)--if you have an instant read thermometer, about 175 degrees F. Do not let it reach 180, or your eggs will curdle!

This post has been brought to you by M's dear mother, who very sweetly--and inexplicably--brought us three 18-pc cartons of eggs (that is 54 eggs, for 2 people who are not prone to eating at home, nor having guests over) that she brought back from Amish country. So far I have made the things above, as well as cupcakes, popovers, soft-boiled eggs, blueberry bread, strawberry bread, and most recently flan, and still have quite a good number of eggs at my disposal. Maybe tomorrow I will make some handmade pasta. (Not likely.)

Up next: More photogenic post, in the form of cupcakes! Soon.

Happy Easter! (Booze and Bragging)

2011-04-24T03:31:00.021-04:00

I did not grow up in a religious household (my mom is Buddhist, my dad is atheist, and both in fact objected to my trying out Christianity/churchgoing as a youth), and so Easter to me meant mostly just colored eggs, bunnies, candy, and stomach aches. In that context, this makes sort of sense as an Easter post.

Part one: Booze

A delicious cocktail I enjoyed recently, which I thought would be a perfect Easter cocktail. I don't know how many people have cocktails on Easter, but I find that cocktails make most holidays more enjoyable/tolerable.

The 'Eh, What's Up Doc?' at Vandaag

Carrot & chickweed infused aquavit, Velvet Falernum, lemon, celery bitters, egg white (and almost-too-precious baby carrot garnish)

Sounds like ~~an embarrassingly corny name~~ an odd collection of components, but it's delicious--on Easter, on Good Friday, on Random Tuesday, whenever you like. This was my fourth visit to Vandaag, and while the food is good but not astounding, the cocktails always blow me away. Although I have heard that they can and will make most any cocktail you request, I highly recommend selecting from their menu, which includes a wide selection of curiousity-piquing concoctions, categorized by aquavit (akvavit), genever (AKA Dutch gin), wine, or beer -based. Others I have tried are Turf War, Chinaski (extra points for the Bukowski homage, if intentional), Rolling Orange, and the non-alcoholic Nopaloma. Just like the space in which they were served, all were stylishly clever, clearly meticulously well thought out, yet still charming and comforting. Every single one was exceptionally well-balanced in flavor. Really, really outstanding. A perfect coalescence of art and science.*
While I do hope this place succeeds, one of my favorite things about it--aside from the sleek, well-designed, airy space--is that it's never been crowded when I've been there. But I'd be willing to share the space if it means the place will do well and stay open.

*Speaking of coalescing of art and science...

Part two: Bragging

BOOM

is what my heart said when I opened the box.

M surprised me with this the other night, as my reward for electing not to drink on my night off (not really--he ordered it months ago, I think more to celebrate my awesome new job, and somehow managed to keep it a secret, the bugger). I bought the Haribo soon after opening the box, simply to ice the cake, gild the lily, put a cherry on top of my pure and utter bliss, as I realized that the only thing better than perusing those books at that moment would be to do it while eating Haribo gummies. (I ate the last 'U' before I got the brilliant idea to compose this surely-obnoxious-to-anyone-but-me photo.) I am a lucky, lucky girl. I recognize and appreciate that.

Happy Easter!!

Vandaag
103 2nd Ave (at 6th St)
NY, NY 10003
www.vandaagnyc.com

Sandwich Revisited

2011-02-19T14:52:00.007-05:00

Speaking of revelatory experiences, I just recently rediscovered 'the Chicago' from Franklin Corner Deli in Greenpoint, and it is every bit as magical as ever. Somehow it never gets old. It's like new every time. I just had it for lunch for the ~~second~~ third time this week.

It's by no means a 'destination' sandwich, but it's damn satisfying--for the money and the neighborhood, it's about as good as it gets. A perfect symphony of textures and flavors.

Just felt it was worth reiterating.

Dinner for one is awesome: Franny's - Prospect Heights, Brooklyn

2011-02-19T13:13:00.015-05:00

I was in a funk yesterday. I don't know if it's because I haven't been smoking (I quit on New Year's, with just a small handfull of backsliding drags), or because I was also trying to not drink (because I am a glutton for punishment...for gluttony, and also the aforementioned backsliding), or because it was a full moon, or because of hormones. There are a million possible reasons.
In any case, I had planned to cook a lovely, optimistic "Goodbye Winter"-themed dinner for a few friends, something comforting, warm, stew-ish perhaps.
But then I got into a funk--maybe my body was shocked by the sudden leap in climate temperature--and had to go for a walk. And then I had to drink way too much coffee, not only because I have recently become addicted to drinking "black eye"s (coffee with 2 shots of espresso), but also as a preemptive move against the inevitable desire for alcohol that would come later while dining with friends, as well as to amp me up for cooking the wonderful feast (that was never to be). Big mistake. Somewhere, somehow hours got lost in meandering purposelessly around my neighborhood listening to Iron Maiden, and then in the chapter on herbs of the mint family in On Food and Cooking, and a directionless sort of panic set in. Panic to make the most of my day off, to make use of the beautiful day, make use of all of this synthetic energy? Who knows.

I canceled all my plans. I decided that I was in no condition to be amongst people in a social situation, and that I should just give into my craziness, surrender all my good intentions to the greater cause of sheer selfish gratification. And a terrific decision that turned out to be.

Because that is how I ended up at Franny's, with this gorgeous thing before me:

Pork Cheek and Beef Tongue Terrine

All for me, none to share. That is only half of the portion given, as I originally had not intended to photograph/blog it. The meal was supposed to be an entirely selfish endeavor, in every way. But this was too beautiful not to. Pork cheek AND beef tongue, pressed into one sinful orgy of arguably the world's finest meat parts, presented as a shimmering slice (two slices, actually) of heaven. With fresh horseradish shaved on top, and a sidekick of delicious crusty bread drizzled with olive oil. I don't think I even need to go into details, but I will. The tongue was so tender that the best way to describe it is "fluffy" (wishing for a more appetizing and meat-appropriate adjective here), while the cheek meat all but melted at the slightest poke of my fork, and all of it somehow still seeming light as a cloud as it wept (yes, wept) succulent rendered pork and beef fat--it was incredible. And if that sounds borderline erotic, well, I am happy to have provided a faithful and accurate depiction of my experience.
This, along with a hot, comforting bowl of cicerchie bean and kale soup, and a glass of Lambrusco, made for one of the most revelatory meals I've had in recent memory. For a lot of reasons.

1. I learned what cicerchie beans are [kind of] and that they are delicious.
2. The guy who walked in before me and inquired about the wait for a party of 2 was told, "at least an hour," whereas I--party of 1--was immediately offered a seat at the bar.
3. Without the need to be polite and try to carry on a conversation, or eat with a modicum of decorum (though I always do), I was able to devote 100% of my attention to the task of consuming, enjoying, and relishing--and none to the grating voice of the woman beside me, repeatedly jabbing her elbow into my left side, carrying on about her intense excitement about completing her acupuncture license training, or her (misguided) opinions of the same Lambrusco that I was enjoying at the moment. Once I started eating, it was like I was in the eye of a storm. All environmental intrusions vanished. Just me and the food. Until...
4. As I slowly, with some wistfulness, shoved the last porky-beefy-fat-smothered morsel of bread into my mouth, the vacuum surrounding me was punctured by the unmistakable and bracingly exhilirating intro to possibly the best feel-good song ever, and one of my favorite songs in the whole wide world:

Too perfect. I walked out of there feeling like I was actually glowing.

And with absolutely zero desire or need for a cigarette.

Lesson: if you want to eat a nice meal, at prime dining time on a weekend night when most good places are sure to be a shitshow nightmare, dining solo is a great way to do it anyway you want it.

(Sorry, had to.)

XXXX = WORK

2011-02-18T04:14:00.013-05:00

...for the moment.

Since work occupies [much, much] more of my time than eating or drinking out lately, I figure I might as well post about what's going on there, which is somewhat relevant to this rather arbitrary dumping ground for food-related material I've created here. Do I or do I not dictate what is relevant in my arbitrary dumping ground? I do!*

*I do have photos for eating-out posts lined up, but those are not what I am most interested in right now.

So for the sake of keeping this [questionably] creative outlet alive, I present to you my first two 'blackboard' dessert specials:

1. Dark Chocolate Bread Pudding w/Brandied Pears, Candied Walnuts | Bailey's Ice Cream

[Apologies for the disorienting angle.]
And

2. Lavender Apple Upside Down Cake, Apricot Compote | Greek Yogurt Sorbet

Please forgive the terribleness of the pictures, taken with my cell phone[s]. As you can tell, I upgraded my cell phone between the first and the second. I had originally only taken these pictures for posterity, and to send to my dad. But now I proffer them to you, the ostensible viewing public, for lack of better/actual content. Enjoy!

I am quite happy with how both of them turned out. The plating of the first was not of my conception, and is not really my style, but I had no idea what I was doing, and my dessert itself--while delicious--pretty much visually amounted to a lumpy brown pile, and it needed to look nicer if we were going to sell it.
The second is currently on our menu, and will remain for the rest of the week. I love this cake, and have a new found love for lavender, towards which I had had some ambivalence before deciding to experiment with it here. And greek yogurt sorbet [we made ours in-house] is farking delicious, and should be sold by the gallon at bodegas everywhere.

I have to say, I am really thrilled about having the opportunity to dream up my own specials and actually have them sold to the public. It's really an awesome feeling, actualizing and executing a vision, and sharing it with people. I missed this feeling from art school, and it's very exciting to be able to experience it again, at my job no less! (Especially after having only been a pastry cook for just under 3 months now.)

And now, much like while I was in art school, I cannot sleep for all of the ideas buzzing and bouncing around in my skull. I've found that my most fruitful and imaginitive mental moments are those just between sleeping and wakefulness, in both directions. I predict more restive nights and cottony-eyed sunrises in my future. It's kind of nice.

More to come.

Pause II: Lady M, UES

2011-01-27T11:54:00.006-05:00

[Note: Pause II actually took place before Pause I.]

One nice thing about a work day that starts at 3PM...

Lunch.

Me making the best of a doctor's appointment that was scheduled for too early, and shorter than expected.

Since I was in the neighborhood, and had a good two hours before I needed to be at work, I decided to check out Lady M Cake Boutique for a nice ($$$) cup of coffee, and uh, professional research.

Meet the Mille Crepe, Lady M's signature cake, for good reason.

Not the worst way to start a day.

Twenty layers of lacy crepe, cushioned by light-as-air vanilla custard. There are no words. Too many words.

My only criticism is that the bruleed top--while providing that lovely toasted sugar flavor--didn't give way to my all-too-eager fork as easily as it could have, as you can see from the last photo.
But...seriously. No, seriously.
I am not complaining. That is like a gun-to-my-head forced critique. Because I am, after all, a professional.

Lol.

Pause I

2011-01-27T03:05:00.019-05:00

Not food-related. Just got home from work, after a pit-stop at Sharlene's, my neighborhood bar, since before it was Sharlene's.

Watching through the window as car after car got stuck, while other luckier ones shimmied around, like fish in a bowl. Slow-motion bumper cars.

Walking home in the snow, before the plows can do their thing, a foot above solid ground--literally like walking on clouds. Plushy and silent. Amazing.

In case you are not looking closely, the above picture is the middle of the street, where cars are supposed to drive.

Sleeping.

Yes, I'm still a California girl who is still amazed at the miracle of changing seasons. Mostly snow. Even after six years of trudging through Snow's almost immediate reincarnation, Grey Slush; and repeatedly dodging being splashed by cabs by its crude distant cousin, Brown Sludge.

Never allow yourself to be too jaded to be arrested by the wonder of nature. It's the purest of pleasures, and one that you will never be too poor to afford.

B Flat - Tribeca

2011-01-19T02:28:00.023-05:00

Here is a post I wrote as a sample to try out as a contributor for one of my favorite blogs--let's call it 'Somber Comestibles'--reviewing bar food. I didn't get the gig, but I figured I might as well post it here, since I really like this place. I'm not crazy about the post, but we can't win 'em all.

(Credit: thank you to M for purchasing and allowing me to use the Speedlite 430EX II, without which these fabulous photographs would not have been possible. Except for the drink photos, which were clearly taken without flash, for artistic effect. Or because I got lazy.)

Walk too fast, and you might miss it. Like a hushed “pssst!” to the observant passer-by, the tiny ‘B♭’ painted on the door is the only signage indicating that there is something down the stairs beyond—except during happy hour (Monday-Friday, 5-8PM), when they have a sandwich board out on the sidewalk.

In a city rife with not-so-secret ‘secret’ hot spots and speakeasy-type hideaways, this Japanese-style jazz bar’s low-key demeanor conveys a stylish restraint rather than pretense. This carries over onto the menu as well, to great effect.

Opened a few years ago by alums of Angel’s Share in the East Village, B Flat calls itself an ‘Authentic Bar,’ and it certainly lives up to this (rather vague and mysterious) title. The drink menu is comprehensive, listing a wide array of spirits, and signature and classic cocktails, categorized by type of spirit. Their signature cocktails and food selections tend to have elements of Japanese influence and ingredients that make them not only distinctive, but more importantly, delicious.

The current menu differs from the one on their website, but luckily one of the constant staples is the Fried Chicken ‘Tatsuta’ ($8 regular, $5 at happy hour).

Fried Chicken 'Tatsuta'Ample moist pieces of marinated boneless thigh meat, battered in katakuriko (potato starch), and fried to crisp, golden perfection, they’re served with an always-welcome cup of spicy mayo. After a long day, a basket of these babies washed down with a cold draft beer ($4 at happy hour) is a cure-all. A delicious, deep-fried cure.

Only slightly less euphoria-inducing was the Teriyaki Burger.

Teriyaki BurgerWhile the words ‘teriyaki’ and ‘burger’ generally do not belong together in my mind, thankfully the teriyaki was much subdued, adding just the slightest hint of sweetness, along with the pillowy bun. The burger itself was a little dry, but had a good char flavor. And the accompanying pile of those quintessential fast food-style fries were hot and crispy, and made amends for any minor offenses of the burger.

There were also a few less conventional ‘bar food’ items on the menu. The Mushroom Spaghetti was an especially pleasant surprise.

Mushroom Spaghetti
Tossed in a light butter-soy sauce with mixed mushrooms, and topped with shredded nori and shiso, it’s a comforting mélange of umami flavors that transcends most typical bar food standards.

'Carpaccio of the Day' - Fluke
The ‘Carpaccio of the day,’ however, which on this day was fluke dressed in a soy-ginger vinaigrette, with sesame seeds and scallions on a bed of mixed greens, was less inspiring. Despite the fish being fresh and delicate, the very dominant sesame oil flavor, albeit tasty if you love sesame like I do, felt a little unbalanced—which was contrary to just about everything else we tried, including the cocktails.

'Groovy'
Old Fashioned
The beautifully simple ‘Groovy’ ($12) consisting of shiso infused vodka, yuzu juice, and a shiso leaf garnish, was a perfect balance of refreshing, aromatic, and tart. My friend said his Old Fashioned ($11) was also excellent. The cocktails here are not the cheapest around, but you can be sure they will be crafted with the utmost care by the ‘bar chefs,’ which is how the gentlemen who tend the bar refer to themselves. They obviously take great pride in what they do here—and fortunately the kitchen chefs do a fine job holding their own beside them.

Blergh!
Try, try again.

Lotus of Siam - NYC

2011-01-14T16:19:00.025-05:00

It's been almost a year. Ha! I bet you'd given up on this thing. 'You' and me both. That makes two people in all.

Also, two reasons this is a special post: 1.) it's a revival post, and 2.) it concerns the highly-anticipated arrival of the famed Lotus of Siam of Las Vegas, in New York.

A short note about the general ambience: weird. I wish it had occurred to me to photograph the interior, but I was preoccupied first with the sort-of-fanciness of it all (no doubt trying to revamp its image to match its new trendy, upscale big-city neighbors), and second with the overly eager, almost pushy service. More on this later. Food first.

Brass tacks - we began with the same dish I had started with at the Las Vegas location, which came highly recommended by several posters on Chowhound.

Nam Kao Tod, Crispy Rice Salad

Comparing it to my memory of the Las Vegas version, I enjoyed this one a lot more. Plating and presentation clearly have been updated to match the fancy new digs. But more importantly, the flavors seemed to be more refined and balanced, as well, not so much overpowered by salt and acid. Smoky Thai sausage, salty crunchy rice, bright splashes of chili and lime - I finally get what the fuss was about. This is to beer as cookies are to milk.

Or:

nam kao tod : beer :: cookies : milk

Issan Larb (chicken)

The larb was also delicious, and actually spicy (as requested), which was a happy surprise. Despite lacking the rather characteristic crispy, granular rice flour component, the flavors were fresh, bold, and satisfying. However, the portion of cabbage provided ostensibly to be used as scooping vessels proved unwieldy, impractical, and unnecessary. Straight plate-to-mouth shoveling was the unanimously preferred method.

Som Thum

I can't seem to eat a Thai meal without it. Maybe it's my Korean blood that makes me crave a crunchy, tart, and usually spicy accompaniment to any meal whenever possible (kimchi, pickled ginger, jalapenos, sauerkraut, coleslaw, etc.). Som Thum in particular, however, also just happens to be one of my favorite dishes to eat, of any cuisine, in any season. Like the larb, it was stingingly spicy, in that deeply gratifying, itch-scratching sort of way. Spicy, tart, funky, and savory, all singing in perfect harmony to the percussion of happy crunching of papaya and peanuts. Nothing better.
And so pretty...but small. Why so small?

Crispy Duck, w/Spicy Thai Basil Sauce

Showstopper of a dish. Intensely delectable, if also a dead ringer for my favorite dish at Sripraphai (Crispy Pork Belly With Chili and Basil). Like smaller, pricier, ducky doppelgangers, these beautiful little morsels had a crisp exterior that exploded like chili-basil meaty fat bombs in my mouth. They were, dare I say, exquisite. But at $26 for, what is that 5? 6? measly nuggets of momentary molten meat nirvana*--it's half the portion at more than twice the price of similar dishes at other Thai restaurants around the city.

* Talk about alliteration! Meat poetry. And that is going to make for some interesting google search visitors.

This was my main, if only complaint about the food here. Everything was undoubtedly tasty, fresh, and well-executed. There just wasn't enough of it. Of anything. Thus, making prices seem wildly disproportionate for what it was. This is the primary reason why M and I agreed we would never return to Lotus of Siam, New York--despite the quality of the food and convenient location compared to some other great Thai restaurants in the city. For those looking to eat delicious Thai food without leaving the comfort and security of Manhattan, and are willing to drop the extra cash in exchange (albeit probably about the price of a cab ride to Queens and back), it's a fine option. Otherwise, there are far greater values to be found in the not-too-outer boroughs.

The second reason is the service. I'm not going to harp on about it, since this blog is about food, and that is my main concern. Also, it was about the second week after opening, and I know it sometimes takes a while for restaurants to find their stride. But suffice to say there is attentive, and there is obtrusive, and good service depends on knowing the difference.

On a related note, with regard to this pos t on Chowhound (an ongoing series of pointless scaremongering to detect and mark the downfall of Sripraphai, arguably the city's best and most beloved Thai restaurant--started in July 2009, and ongoing up to this month): I just returned this past weekend after a few months long hiatus, shared my favorite dishes along with some new ones with a few friends, and everything was fantastic. We did encounter some annoying, but brief, cautionary protest when ordering the Southern Style Curry, but after assuring our waitress that we were completely aware of our actions, everything was fine. There are reasons and occasions to visit other places for Thai food, of course, but it's good to know I can still rely on Sripraphai for a fix.

(The first picture is of the rather forgettable but innocuously pleasant dessert of tapioca and lotus seeds from Lotus of Siam.)

Menu Project - Finished!

2010-03-20T22:27:00.025-04:00

Finally. It's over. And the results were to my satisfaction, for the most part.
I did end up using a different title, but it's even cheesier than "Aroma Odyssey," so there's really no need to divulge it.
Without further ado (I've been adoing all over the place for the past 2 weeks):

[click to enlarge]

Big THANK YOU to Arthur for creating the beautiful layout, which matches so delightfully with my amuse bouche.

Amuse Bouche: Chicken Liver Pate, Grapefruit Gelee, Jasmine Tea Glaze

Blue Cheese Mousse & Pickled Plums on Endives

Avocado-Purple Shiso Grilled Rice Ball

'Fish Pie': Bass, Kombu-Gewurztraminer Cream Sauce, Nori Mashed Potatoes

Crispy Pork Belly, Jalapeno-Rosemary Oil, Cantaloupe Puree, Rosemary Sweet Potato Mash

Curry Pot de Creme, Oatmeal Stout Apple Fritters

Phew. A lot of sweat, a lot of yelling at M (have I mentioned that he's the best ever? 'Cause he is. Also, in the last photo, he is holding up a rumpled up down comforter to block from view the piles of greasy bike parts on the floor behind the plate), some laughter, some successes, some not-so-successes. A lot of learning. My favorites were the amuse bouche and the dessert, which I will most definitely be making again.
But no more cooking for me...for a few days.

It's a beautiful and mild night, so M and I biked to Ayada in Elmhurst. Riding through the suburbs of Queens on a warm night makes me feel like a kid again. Except I grew up in Palos Verdes. And actually it's speeding down the hills that makes me feel like a kid.
Every time I eat at Ayada, the food is even more outstanding than I remember it being. It's a meal that kicks you in the face, knocks you on your ass, and then gives you a big hug. We ordered too much food, and left nary a chili seed or a grain of rice on our plates. And the service is always warm and accommodating.

Now it's time to lie back on these laurels and watch one of the 200 movies that M downloaded in BluRay. Life's okay.

I'll be back in a few.

Menu Project: Aroma Odyssey

2010-03-11T02:06:00.012-05:00

Cheesy title, I know. It's a work in progress.

Phew! Crazy past few weeks. I'm now working in the school's restaurant, L'ecole, and have been on the saucier station this week. I haven't sweated and hustled like this in...ever. Maybe ever. Maybe when I was on my high school tennis team, but I don't think I cared enough to hustle this much.

Anyway, here I am at my derelict blog. Our class menu projects are due next week, and on top of that, work, life, sleep, and trying to squeeze some fun and relaxation in to keep me sane, sadly blog has fallen on my list of priorities (even further down than it had been).

My menu's theme is Volatile Aromatic Compounds, and composing dishes with 2 base ingredients containing a major compound in common. Not a new concept by any means, but one that excites me and allowed me to learn through research and creative experimentation whilst working on my project. Which, after much thought and when it's too late to change it, I've realized amounts to 'flavor combinations.' So, essentially my theme is flavor. Great. Genius.

Anyway, I'll post the full menu later, along with pictures. For now, here's the first course (after the amuse bouche):

Pickled Plum and Blue Cheese Mousse on Endives, w/Plum-Thyme Vinaigrette and Toasted Walnuts

I've come quite a ways since a few months ago, I think.
Also, you'd never guess that the photo was taken by a sweaty, frantic and half-drunk, blue-cheese-and-mascara-smeared me, while the plate teetered precariously on the edge of a plastic folding chair within the approx. 1.5 sq ft of open floor space in our bizarrely overlit bedroom, nearly spilling onto the bedspread, would you?

It's due a week from Friday, so I'll be back [around] then.
Wish me luck!!

Tiny Cake Post

2010-02-03T00:03:00.014-05:00

Nothing like some good ol' fashioned procrastination to get me blogging again. Just like old times.

I found these little darlings in the Koryodang Bakery in Flushing, after yet another epic, sweaty meal at Hunan House (post to come, eventually). I'd visited other branches of the chain - usually the Manhattan location in Koreatown - on several occasions, but had never seen these before. No sign, no label - just a twisty-tied cellophane bag containing about a dozen - but somehow I immediately knew in my mind what they would taste like. And I was right. Little, tiny madeleines. Delicate sugar crust giving way to a lusciously moist and buttery cake interior. All in a perfectly adorable gumdrop-sized morsel.
I thought the green ones would be matcha or pistachio flavored. M said they tasted like anise. Honestly, I can't tell what it is - just slightly 'green.'

Sometimes it's nice when reality will seemingly bend to the will of a memory.

Koryodang Bakery
15619 Northern Boulevard (150th Place)
Flushing, NY
(718) 762-5544

Lan Sheng Restaurant - Manhattan

2010-01-12T02:03:00.001-05:00

Attempt #583902 at a succinct post. That sentence took about 3 minutes. Few words, several pictures, all taken with iPhone - forgot my camera. This feels like haiku.

Pickled Sichuan Vegetables

Spicy, red, and sour,
Delicious and also free -
Auspicious pickles.

I hate haiku.

M's friend suggested we try out Lan Sheng, a promising new Sichuan place in Manhattan. Walking from the train to meet said friend, and another friend, M said, "I'm not too excited about this dinner,"* soon to be followed by 3 or 4 variations of the same cynical sentiment. I nodded silently each time, pushing head-down against the glacial wind and the odds of M being correct in his intrinsic skepticism.

Greeted by a brusque but smiling waiter [owner?] with charmingly cartoonish eyebrows and glasses, we were ushered into a booth far too large for our party of four. The place was only moderately occupied and rather quiet. Almost immediately the same man scurried back with menus, plunked down the above dish of pickled vegetables, frenetically pointed at some words on a Chinese-only specials menu, and spewed several enthusiastic but half incomprehensible words - in English? - and dashed off again.

M picked up his chopsticks and briefly interrupted his smirk to pop one in his mouth. Here's a reenactment:

: | :O : I

He then repeated this sequence with increasing speed, and progressively shorter smirk periods, like so:

: I :O : I :O : I :O : I :O :I :O:I:O:I:O ...

Until finally he declared that the pickles were "awesome," and "possibly [his] favorite version of this dish [he'd] ever had." When he tried to order more (they are in fact listed on the menu for $4.95), the waiter/possible-owner retorted, with good-natured contempt, "Why order? It's free!" And plopped down a fresh plate. We were on our third by the time we got to ordering. We all concurred that they were indeed awesome, and thus went the rest of the meal, with abundant jubilance and some intermittent bouncing.

*Foreshadowing!

Ox Tongue & Tripe w/Roasted Chili-Peanut Vinaigrette

This particular dish is quite possibly my favorite way to begin a meal (quickly followed by a cold beer). I had to echo M's statement regarding the pickled vegetables - this might be my favorite version. I've never heard the chili oil-based sauce referred to as a 'vinaigrette' before, but I like how it makes it seem a little more dainty than just "Ox tongue and tripe," or "Cold offal slices in chili oil." Bamboo Pavilion, Hunan House, Famous Sichuan, and numerous other restaurants also have excellent renditions of this magical dish, and I love them all, but I might have to say that this and Bamboo Pavilion are my favorites. M said he prefers Hunan House's, saying this one was great, but a little too sweet for him.

Double Cooked Streaky Pork w/Spicy Capsicum

Ooh, getting too wordy. Another great version of a classic standby. Salty fatty pork, leeks, chili oil, capsicum. For waist-watchers: 'streaky' = fatty... = delicious.
I'm guessing 'streaky' might be a direct translation from Chinese. Likewise, in Korean, pork belly is called 'sam gyup sal,' which translates to 'three layer fat*,' which also translates to 'delicious.'

Too much meat?** Too much heat?*** Temper it with some:

*Or something.

**No.

***Never.

Crispy Garlic Cucumbers

Extremly crispy, extremely garlicky. They got a table of rabid animal eaters raving about frikking cucumbers.

Scallion Pancakes

Classic dish, excellent execution, etc. etc. [Little grease, max crunch - really quite good.]

Chengdu Wontons w/Sichuan Peppercorn Vinaigrette

I am getting rather bored of saying how delicious everything was, but it was. (I think we were also just ordering our favorite standard things to test the waters, so to speak.)
Ditto. Yawn. Yum.

Stir Fried Prawns w/Yibin Yacai Spiced Chili Cucumbers

Here was something I had not tried. Yibin Yacai? Is that Chinese?
Apparently Yibin is a city in Sichuan province, and Yacai is a kind of tender herb that is often used in pickling. The rest were familiar things to me, and together it was very good. Unfortunately, I can't elaborate because my tastebuds were tuckered out by this point. I don't generally go for shrimp dishes, but these were tender - not overcooked, as they often tend to be - and generously spiced with...Yibin Yacai. Pretty colors, too.

Chongqing Fish [???] - "Trademark Dish"

We tried to order 'Braised Whole Fish w/Chili-Miso Sauce,' but the waiter [/owner?/chef??] was so excited to insist we get their "trademark dish," for which he never gave the name, that we were excited to go along. (Leaving the restaurant, we saw 'Chongqing Fish' being boldly advertised on the sandwich chalkboard outside, and after some googling of that, it looks like that's what we got.) The pride on that dear man's face as he and another waiter marched out with this flaming, still-bubbling (with a small burner attachment underneath), steaming and beautiful tray would have been worth it for me, no matter what it tasted like. Luckily this, too, was a delightful dish. Don't let the billions of chilis fool you - it wasn't that spicy. Actually quite delicately seasoned, with some of those subtle medicinal notes that can add a pleasant complexity to certain dishes, the fish was silky and supple as a down pillow. So, if you like fish, and down pillows, this dish - which I'm not 100% sure I've named accurately - will have you on your knees. (It's late, I'm tired, try this 'trademark dish.' If it appeals to your taste.)

Carnage

And harbinger of emergencies on the horizon...

Not the prettiest of pictures, but included just to illustrate how a table of four not-extremely-into-fish meat-lovers eradicated, erased, expunged, exterminated, extinguished, extirpated, and finished off (selection of thesaurus entries for 'annihilate') this dish, even after invalidating, liquidating, and massacring all the previous dishes.

Victory. Good night.

Lan Sheng Restaurant
60 West 39 Street (btwn 5th & 6th Ave)
Manhattan
(212) 575-8899

Sripraphai vs. Lotus of Siam - East vs. West of Thai Cuisine

2009-12-27T19:52:00.042-05:00

[Thanks, Girl Who Ate Everything, for reminding me that I needed to do this, via her Sripraphai post.]

Alright. Here we go.
I have been promising posts about Sripraphai since about the beginning of this blog, have since commented on other blogs about it, and eaten there at least 8 times in the past 4 months or so...it's time to finally do this. No longer shall this be a blog of broken promises (at least not this one promise).
I was waiting until I could get some better pictures to do the food justice, but I realize now that no pictures [taken by me] will ever do it justice, so I might as well post these AWFUL AWFUL pictures that I have had sitting on this hard drive for goodness knows how long. Here goes - this might be more epic than my burger post, so sit back (or just skip to the food pics).

There are two people in my life who have had definitive roles in the forming of my ideas about food: first, my mother [duh], and second, M.
My mother's home cooking, along with her predilection for funky, off-beat [read: eek] foods, and her militantly enforced "you have to try everything once" attitude has made my palate what it is today. Thank you, Mom.
M, a later influence in my life, opened my eyes to a world of cuisines that I thought I knew about, but actually had no idea (Polish-born, raised in Rockaway, schooling me about Asian cuisines - go figure). One of these is Thai food. I always thought, "Sure, I like Thai food. Noodles, curry, whatever. It's good for a greasy fix." Then M took me to Sripraphai. It was a revelation. It was like I had never tasted flavor before - not just 'these' flavors, but any flavor. It knocked my tastebuds on their asses, all of them, simultaneously. Or maybe like dominoes. I dunno.

I believe my mother's attitude towards Thai food was similar to my former feeling - as I believe it is for many people whose only experience with Thai food is pad thai (often take-out), or for the more daring pad kee mow or pad see ew, which is somewhat equivalent to believing Panda Express is Chinese food. So when I went to Las Vegas this past Thanksgiving with my family, I had to grab at the opportunity to potentially allow my dear mother to experience this same revelation, as I was confident she would, at Lotus of Siam - the legendary, and often hailed "Best Thai Restaurant in North America." I had never been, but even with my limited experience, felt sure that Sripraphai should be the holder of this title. Both are helmed by women made famous (locally and nationally) for their killer dishes (Sripraphai Tipmanee and Saipin Chutima, respectively), both have die hard fans. I needed to test for myself.

SRIPRAPHAI - Woodside, Queens, NY
[worst ever photos of best food ever]

Som Tum

Southern Style Curry w/Duck

Crispy Pork w/Chili and Basil and Inexplicable Satanic Red Glow*

*Do not ask me how that happened...maybe it was the heat of the Thai chilis emanating through the lens. Or that my sucky photography transcends the whole earthly spectrum of hues.

So, these are my standbys, which I unjustly call 'standbys' when actually they are 3 of my favorite things to eat on any given day. I've already talked about my love of som tum, so suffice to say that this is where it began. And ends. The crispy catfish salad is also a favorite, which is similar, but with shredded green mango instead of papaya, cashews instead of peanuts, and topped with heaping portions of deep fried minced catfish, which has a unique consistency somewhat like honeycomb, or fried cotton candy, but tastes like fish. Mmmm, right? YES, RIGHT. EAT IT. Ask for 'Thai spicy' if you want to experience nirvana...and a runny nose and sweaty brow.
Same goes for the Southern Style Curry, which is supposedly too spicy even for the chef. I've heard she doesn't eat it herself, yet she somehow manages to make it taste awesome. Thai eggplant [those things that look like tiny watermelons, or alien tomatilloes], long beans, green peppercorns, bamboo shoots, generous slices of succulent duck, and about 50 other components - all in a fiery soupy curry of psychedelic max flavor™. For best results, eat poured over a steaming bowl of coconut rice.
Lastly, Crispy Pork w/Chili and Basil. Words cannot explain. The consistency is not like any other pork or meat dish I've had - some might find it off-putting at first, though I think a few bites more would turn them around: crispy, then fatty, then tender...at times jerky-like. Flavor pow . That's all.

[Irrelevant Tangent: two nights ago M rode out to pick up take-away from Sripraphai, since it was raining, and I don't have fenders on my bike, and so didn't want to bike there. Coming off a big meat-binge, I requested for myself just Som Tum AND Crispy Catfish Salad. He also got an order of Crispy Pork and coconut rice. Long story short, the salads were so good, we ended up eating just those for dinner, and reheating the pork w/the rice the next night. Two very big meat eaters, being sated with just 2 salads for dinner. SALADS. We are not salad eaters. These dishes are serious.
Also, PROTIP: DO NOT REHEAT THINGS WITH THAI CHILI PEPPERS IN A PAN OF POPPING HOT OIL. I thought I would try to re-crisp the crispy pork in some piping hot oil, along with the chilis in the sauce, of course, whose seeds promptly popped open and released highly unpleasant amounts of capsaicin into our tiny, windowless kitchen, thus turning our meal into a riot scene simulation where we had just been pepper sprayed and then forced to eat delicious pork. Me: #1 Top Genius of the World.]

There are mores dishes/pictures from Lotus of Siam, as this was my first and only visit, and I was with my whole family, and who knows when I'll be back.

LOTUS OF SIAM - Las Vegas, NV

Nam Kao Tod

Crispy rice mixed with minced sour
sausage, green onion, fresh chili, ginger, peanuts, and lime
juice.

So, I composed a list of dishes to try, based on a honed down list of the many recommendations on the numerous Chowhound threads about this place. This was one of the items that kept recurring. It was flavorful, and had nice textures, but everyone agreed it was really salty, and a little too sour to enjoy all of the other flavors. And really salty.

Crispy Garlic Shrimp

Close-up

Okay, this was a winner. Another recommendation from the astute contributors to Chowhound, I don't believe it's on the actual menu, and so have to thank them for the tip. They separate the shells from the bodies almost entirely, except near the tail so it's still attached, batter it all up in some kind of magic (garlic), and then deep fry the whole shebang. Really spectacular. I don't even like shrimp that much. Mom was beginning to warm up.

Hoh Mok Plar

Close-up

Another Chowhound insider tip - the menu lists it as catfish, but if you ask for it with sea bass, they're more than happy to oblige. Now this was the dish that really got Mom's attention. She's not one to pretend to like something, and you know you've got her when she's scraping the aluminum foil with her chopsticks for dregs to flavor her remaining rice at the end of the meal. The waiter actually tried to dissuade me from ordering it - "It's, uh, you know, not for everybody," he offered with well-meaning naïveté - and I'm so glad I insisted. The menu description is not what some would call enticing: "With curry paste-fish, egg, sliced cabbage cooked in a bowl with your choice of catfish." 'Paste-fish'? 'Sliced cabbage cooked in a bowl'...whee. And I'm not sure what 'Your choice of catfish' means. Anyway, it was delicious, and I'm still not even sure what the waiter meant, because it didn't have any sort of funky or off-putting flavors or textures (as I was expecting, but probably also still would have liked). It was just wholesome and plain good.
(After the trip to Las Vegas, and I returned to NY, and my mom returned to LA, she called me to ask the name of the restaurant we ate at in Las Vegas, and this dish. My mother loves food, but she's never made such an effort to recall some place we've eaten so she could rave to her friends about it. Lotus of Siam turned my mom into a foodie.)

Khao Soi w/Beef

I like Khao Soi, there's nothing not to like, but it also just sort of falls into my previous notions of Thai food: delicious, rich, sort of sweet, noodly, but nothing life-changing. This one was obviously tasty, but nothing to travel to the desert for.

"Pork Stew" - possibly Kang Hung Lay...?

Another Chowhound rec, known only to me as "pork stew." I simply asked the waiter for "pork stew" and he seemed to know what I was talking about, and brought us this. I went back to the menu just now to see if there is a proper name for it, and I think it's the Kang Hung Lay, but don't quote me on it. Anyway, this dish pretty much remained untouched. Maybe I ordered the wrong thing, or they brought the wrong thing. In any case, I can recall nothing about this dish except that the meat was kind of tough and dry, and the flavor was all around just sort of...brown.

Crazy Dessert Sampler

I couldn't decide on a dessert, so the waiter recommended we get the sampler, which included portions of three of their best desserts: sticky rice, coconut ice cream, and fried banana roll. YES. So good. The fried banana roll is basically what it looks like: bananas rolled in thin springroll-type skin, and deep fried. And then glazed with some sort of sugar syrup. Coconut ice cream was coconut ice cream, and the sticky rice was sticky rice flavored with coconut. Put them all together, and you have a dream team sticky, warm, crispy, cool, creamy, chewy, sugargasm...with banana and coconut, one of nature's most beautiful flavor combinations. 'Nuff said.

So, the big question: whose cuisine reigns supreme???

The big answer: not sure.

Wah wah...Honestly, after having only been to Lotus of Siam once, and eating at Sripraphai semi-religiously about once every other week for the past year and a half or so, I can't even try to give a diplomatic opinion. If Lotus of Siam was in biking distance of my home, I would definitely eat there again. Perhaps as frequently as I eat at Sripraphai. Being that it's not only on the other side of the country, but in Las Vegas, and that I hate Las Vegas...it's definitely an excellent restaurant, and I would most certainly return if I was in the area. Based solely on that 1 visit versus about 50-some visits to Sripraphai: Sripraphai is, in my eyes, THE Best Thai Restaurant in North America.

Sripraphai
6413 39th Ave
Woodside, Queens, NY

(718) 899-9599

[Also at: 280 Hillside Ave
Williston Park, NY]

Lotus of Siam
953 East Sahara Ave
Las Vegas, NV
(702)735-3033

Food Spreadsheet

2009-12-22T12:22:00.004-05:00

I've nerdily been keeping a google doc spreadsheet of restaurants I like and want to go to. It's not all-inclusive, as it mainly started as a list of old favorites and places I wanted to try. Then I started sharing it with friends, and it is slowly evolving into a general list of everything I eat and want to eat, as well as a [hopefully] useful guide for other people who don't have the luxury of time to read food blogs and restaurant reviews all day.

Here it is.

Bold means I've tried it, green means a favorite, and it's all color coded by borough.
I try to keep it updated [more so than this...] so keep checking.
Eat well and enjoy!

Cookies!

2009-12-13T23:32:00.023-05:00

What with school and work and weather and all, I've been in a bit of an eating out rut. Meaning, I've either been eating my homework (as well as serving it to friends), or M and I have been ending up at our usual standbys because we're too wiped to think of a new place, go there, and potentially eat bad food. Thus this eating-out blog is evolving (devolving?) into a random-things-I-have-made-and/or-eaten blog.

This was a slight divergence from cooking recipes straight from class (I mean, one can only eat Poulet Rôti Grand-Mère or Aile de raie à la Grenobloise so many times, am I right). Since we already have parts of both an apple tart and a lemon tart sitting in the fridge, I decided two tarts is enough for one apartment of two people. We needed some cookies up in this @*#&.
I whipped up* some pâte sablée, and made some cute little plum butter shortbread cookies.

* i.e. slaved, sweated, and had just a handful of mini anxiety attacks over

Take that, Pepperidge Farm

More like Pooperidge Farm.

Just kidding, I have nothing against Pepperidge Farm. I've enjoyed many a Mint Milano in my day. But these. These have love, baked right in. Which as everyone knows means butter - obscene amounts of butter.
The plum butter is admittedly out of a jar - some extremely tasty Polish store-bought stuff, that usually goes on my bagels on the weekend. The cookies are delicately sweet, crumbly, and melt-in-your-mouthy.

On a cold rainy day, a warm apartment that smells of butter and sugar, plus a plate of fresh baked cookies - it's what daydreams-whilst-sitting-in-an-over-air-conditioned-office-staring-at-a-computer-screen-and-eating-a-crappy-deli-sandwich are made of.

Yes, M and I are going to be very fat.
Really very large.

More eating out posts to come! I hope! If I don't get too lazy again!

Postscript: I would include the recipe here, but 1.) I'm not sure if it belongs to the school or something, and am not entirely (at all) familiar with the intricacies of copyright laws in blogs, and 2.) it's fairly simple, but there are a lot of places to go wrong that makes it complicated and annoying to write out.
If you are inclined to make them, find a good shortbread recipe (I'd add a dash of lemon zest next time, for zing factor), cut into cute shapes (be sure to include a jam peephole), bake, and smear with jam of choice. Easy!

Postpostscript: I brought some for my friend, Carol: "MMMM! Susan, these are so good...they're like store-bought!!"
Great...thanks, Carol.

Second Chances

2009-12-08T01:54:00.009-05:00

One night I went to bed thinking about the overripe persimmon sitting on our countertop.
Slightly drooped, she sat, patiently waiting to join the inevitable resting place for produce whose purposes were never fulfilled - a grocery bag hanging from a cupboard knob.

What to do with this once supple, now sad and slightly shriveled, erstwhile beauty? Surely her soul remained as sweet as in her youth, honey-sweet nectar and want of purpose near bursting from her skin.
She cried to me in my dreams for une raison d'être.

I awoke with a start, and uttered two breathless words: 'persimmon bread.'

[end mawkish over-dramatization]

So, I got up, got the idea to sub in persimmons for bananas (possibly making necessary adjustments for water content) in a banana bread recipe, googled 'best banana bread recipe,' and decided on this one. Then got to work.

But just one, sad, decrepit little persimmon was not going to do. She needed some younger friends to spruce up her image, and help her recall her vitality and worth - Lady Gagas to her Madonna, if you will. (I won't. But I did. Cringe. Too late, can't go back now.)

Luckily the deli around the corner had some on hand, and I picked up these beauts.

Sexy 'simmons

Some whipping, mashing, improvising, and added spices (fresh nutmeg, salt) later...and there it was. Purpose fulfilled.

Reincarnated: Spicy, warm, & gooey

Pretty good for a first try. It was dense and moist (I might have overworked the dough/batter just a touch), with delightfully smushy/chewy bits of persimmon flesh dispersed throughout.
I plan to try again, next time with even more spice (cinnamon? Cardamom?), and maybe a touch of ginger.

M wasn't such a fan to start - his initial remarks were things like, "It's not bad, but you know the reason people make things like banana bread is because the sum is better than the parts. Banana bread is better than a banana, zucchini bread is better than a zucchini..." Right, thanks. (To be fair, he really, really loves persimmons.) But after the bread cooled a bit, and had time to enrich and integrate its flavors, he was won over, too.

"Filet de limande à votre façon"

2009-11-06T12:10:00.010-05:00

More class stuff.

So, we were each given a flounder to clean and fillet, and then do whatever we liked. I decided to go with one of my favorite fish dishes, which I learned from Arthur. Native to Hanoi[?], it's called Cha Ca, and consists of a white fish (he usually uses tilapia), marinated in turmeric, galangal, and some other magical things, and served on a huge bed of fresh dill, with a diluted fish sauce dip and toasted peanuts on the side.

I made a marinade of turmeric, ginger (no galangal on hand), chopped onions, olive oil, salt and sugar, and let the fillets marinate for about 30 minutes. Meanwhile, I cooked some rice with olive oil, salt, and dill. When the rice was about done, I rolled some into the fillets, and popped 'em into the oven. Then I lightly toasted some peanuts, made a small tomato fondue (butter, shallots, garlic, s&p, tomatoes, quickly sauteed in a pan with a parchment paper lid) for color and garnish, fried a strip of the side of the fish for a crispy top piece, and made a turmeric mayo with the frying oil. Some extra dill as a side and garnish, and voila!

I had forgotten to put the mayo on the plate when we presented, so had to hastily run up with a spoonful of it and smear it on the plate, which is why it looks like sloppy electric bird poop. Oops.
It was pretty delicious, if I do say so myself.

Pre-sauce

Done

Last weekend, M and I went to Chicago for Halloween, AND to experience the marvel of maximum apocalyptic decadence that is Alinea. But more on that later.

Some Things I Made

2009-10-20T15:17:00.007-04:00

Here are some things I made in school.

Apple Tart

Genoise [Whole egg cake] w/Mocha Buttercream

With little dark chocolate hearts I piped through a parchment paper cone onto another sheet of parchment paper, and then peeled off and placed lovingly onto the cake.

I also made an awesomely delicious pear tart with almond frangipane, and a quiche lorraine, but neither photographed so well.

These are the kinds of things your girlfriend might bring home to you if she were in culinary school.

Lazy post, just an update.

Hakata Tonton - Pig Trotters in the West Village

2009-09-23T10:59:00.012-04:00

GAH! This blog is like a ghost town.
Culinary school is kind of kicking my ass right now, in a nice way, but as a result I haven't been interneting and eating at new places so much. This is from months ago. Also, this is my attempt at a new, revamped, more succinct style of blogging - which, as you can tell, is not going so well already. Me: not the best at using a few number of words to describe something in a verbally frugal manner.

Hakata Tonton! Tonsoku! AKA Trotters!

For my birthday [months ago] M treated me to some pig's feet. What can I say but the guy knows the way to my heart.
If you haven't already surmised, Hakata Tonton (I believe 'tonton' might be a cuteified abbreviation for tonsoku, but that's just a freewheelin' speculation, with no google research whatsoever, woo!) specializes in pig's feet, in various preparations, and according to their website, "Authentic Kyushu Japanese Soul Food." They have 2 very reasonably-priced tasting menus: Tonton Tasting Menu ($38) and Chef's Tasting Menu ($42). We went with the former, which won us over with the inclusion of a hot pot, and fortuitously also came with a lower price-tag.

Shabu Shabu Pork Salad

Pork salad. Can't be bad, right? It wasn't. The shreds of shabu-shabu pork were not dry, as I was half expecting, and an interesting deviation from the other forms of pork more prevalent in salads - bacon, lardons. The dressing was tangy and light. Very refreshing. I think there were fried shallots or minced onions on top.

Atlantic Salmon Carpaccio

Another can't-really-go-wrong dish. I could squawk something about the menu "playing to the masses," but the food was good, so who cares? I like raw salmon, I like sparkly tobiko, I like colorful sprinkles of garnish (chives). Win. The fish was fresh, and the dressing was a lemon (and soy?) dressing that played up the ingredients nicely, without being too overpowering.

Grilled Pork Toooooonsokuuu! (That is how I imagine it's supposed to be inflected)

This was almost certainly my favorite dish. Simply seasoned with not much more than salt, allowing the essential flavors of the meat and char shine. Yes, char shines. Oh so tender, and gelatinous, cartilage-y, and collagen-y...I understand the last three adjectives might not make most people's mouths water, but if you know what's good for you, you know they are good things. Seriously. Chef Himi Okajima praises pigs' feet, not just for the wonderful flavor and texture, but claims (in a 2008 interview from NYDaily News):

"In Kyushu, many people eat pigs' feet, so there is a lot of beauty there - beautiful women."

Collagen: it's not just for injecting into your face with a syringe anymore.
I definitely prefer the insertion-into-the-mouth-chewing-and-swallowing method of administering.

I regret to say that I could not capture a good picture of the most interestingly flavored dish of the evening, but you can catch a blurry glimpse of it in the top left corner of the picture above. I forgot what they were called, but we got them in lieu of the gyoza, which pleased me, 'cause I like getting special things, and trying new things. They were chicken wings, crispy and coated in...something. I can't say I liked them immediately, but for some reason I couldn't stop eating them. Here's what I said to M: "They taste like peanut butter rice crispy chicken wings." Scoff (or gag) if you will, but I liked them...I think...? Something made me keep going for them, but I would be remiss if I didn't say that it could've been their uncanny flavor resemblance to my childhood favorite candy bar.

Hot Pot - Phase 1

You are given the choice of the Hakata Tonton Hot Pot, or Shabu Shabu Hot Pot. I love shabu-shabu, but in the spirit of the night, we went with the namesake again. There was just a shitton of stuff in here: collagen broth, tofu, dumplings, vegetables, Berkshire pork belly, and tonsoku. Additionally, I think those are goji berries scattered on top.

Phase 2

I thought it was nice that we got a chance to digest the first few courses while waiting for the hot pot to stew, as wafts of funky, porky aromas waltzed around our contented faces.
I really enjoyed this dish, as well. I don't know if it is a traditional dish to Kyushu, but it actually felt very Korean to me. Like Kimchi Jigae, but really rich and deeply flavored Kimchi Jigae, probably owing to the collagen broth of long stewed tonsoku.

Phase 3

Confirming my notion of Korean influence is the choice they give you for the third phase of the hot pot: rice bibimbap or ramen noodle. We chose ramen. After you are done eating most of the contents of the hot pot, and it is apparent that you are fully satisfied, the server comes out and plops a bunch of more shit into your pot. You let that boil, and then you eat your Hot Pot Part Deux (remember the Hot Shots! movies? Yeah...)
This was also tasty, and still reminded me of Korean food, except this time Shin Ramyun.

Desserts: Cheese Mousse & Black Sesame Ice Cream

The desserts were nothing spectacular, but not bad. Just very ~~bland~~ subtle. I remember noting how black sesame ice cream looks like concrete.

So much for succinct. Fuckcinct.

Hakata Tonton
61 Grove St (between Bleecker & 7th Ave )
NY, NY 10014
(212) 242-3699
http://www.tontonnyc.com/

Burger Porn Post - vol. I - Updated

2009-09-13T01:25:00.023-04:00

Pictures now, words later.

Name that burger.

[Update] I'm back! Now the words on these delicious babies...

Disclaimer: "What about Shake Shack, Burger Joint, and blah?" I love those burgers, but they are extremely well-covered, and I imagine that if you are reading this then you either have heard of them, or know how to use Google. No? Here you go.
These are Some of My [Other] Favorite Burgers in NYC - vol. 1.

BLT Burger - The Boy Next Door

Look at that bashful cutie...

There ya go.

But really, it's what's inside that counts.

I have no complaints about this burger. I went with "The Classic" [pictured], which weighs in at a very modest-but-sufficient 5 oz. of Black Angus beef - notably not so oversized as some of its mid-range, sit-down restaurant peers (I would say that the rest of the burgers in this post fall in the 8-10 oz or more range). It comes bare bones, but they offer a ton of toppings to choose from. I'm usually inclined towards the traditional - American cheese, lettuce, tomato, onions, condiments. And it's cooked to order - with proof in the form of a cutesy cow-shaped stake piercing the bun - which is a crucial quality that should never be overlooked (see Five Leaves burger, below).
Despite the high-profile French chef behind the joint (Laurent Tourondel), this place puts out a no-frills, well-executed American classic that's more "Oh, yeeah," than "Oh la la!" Not unforgettable, but it hits the proverbial spot.

The other options on the menu are mostly 7 oz. [still modest-sized] affairs, with various pre-selected themed toppings, all pretty standard, and perhaps now considered classic by some - bacon, lettuce, tomato; blue cheese w/grilled onions and mushrooms; jack cheese, avocado, etc. They also have more 'fancy' variations - "American Kobe," lamb merguez, turkey, veggie falafel, salmon - which, aside from maybe the first, I wouldn't really call 'burgers,' so much as burger-inspired sandwiches.
I should also note that they have "Spiked Milkshakes." I haven't tried the ones here, but a previous alcoholic milkshake experience (Beer Shake) taught me that sometimes a thing might sound like a good, no great idea in theory, but the reality ends up just being another reminder that sometimes good thing+good thing ≠ better thing. (That said, I will probably end up trying these at some point because, hey, I like ice cream and I like booze, and I often suck at learning lessons when they concern things that I like.)

Lure Fishbar - The Beach Babe

Yow-oww.

I really do like this burger, but 2 things keep me from going back to it too often (despite the fact that it's just a few blocks from my work): 1.) It's not cheap: $17 for the "Lure Style Burger," and a bowl of fries (which are always crispy and well-seasoned, but I could take 'em or leave 'em). And 2.) The place, Lure Fishbar, is right in the heart of SoHo, beneath the Prada store, and feels more "Sex in the City" than I generally like. (If that's your thing, no one's judging - just not mine, really.) The decor seems to be trying for...nautical chic[?], while the ambiance consists of pop hits from the 80s and 90s (which I don't mind, but it's pretty loud), and the inevitable gaggles of "ladies' night out" type situations (more gossiping over "cosmos" than dancing on bars) going on all around. Not my ideal burger eating conditions.
But about the burger: especially for a place whose focus is supposedly sea food, this burger is surprisingly well-executed. I first read about it on A Hamburger Today, and there's not really much I can say about it except what's been stated on that post: it's like a fancy, supercharged In-n-Out burger. Who can argue with that? It's served on a brioche, but the contents are not upstaged. It works. Also, I've had it a few times, and it's almost always cooked to order (M's was overdone once). It's not exactly a burger to seek out, but if you find yourself craving a burger in SoHo, or for whatever reason find yourself in Lure Fishbar, I would highly recommend it.

Stone Park Cafe: The Duke

Pure class

I don't often get the burger here because they have so many other wonderful offerings, but like everything else on the menu, the burger is Solid. Capital 'S.' Screw it, capital 'OLID,' too. Capital SOLID.
Maybe I'm biased because Stone Park Cafe has been one of my favorite restaurants in New York pretty much since I moved here about 5 years ago. (Full disclosure: I also know one of the owners, but that didn't really happen until after it was already a favorite). But I have brought many friends to this place, and have never felt like I had talked it up too much. Honestly, it's just one of those places where the incredible attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the restaurant, and every dish that comes out of the kitchen. Hearty and soulful, yet beautifully precise - it's sophistication without pretension. The burger is no exception. It's Grace Kelly in Levi's. I'm not really sure what that means, or if it conveys any sort of deliciousness, but this post is taking too long and I'm starting to get into stream of consciousness mode. It makes sense, trust me. Anyway, I didn't even have to try to make that shit look that good, and it's gorgeous, no? I went for the non-traditional, fancypants burger toppings this time - blue cheese and sauteed mushrooms - but you can also get Vermont cheddar, pepper jack, gruyere, what have you. The bun is a classic, soft sesame bun, which is my favorite kind of burger attire. Also, those are my favorite kind of fries. You know the ones - the "fancy McDonald's style" fries that everyone loves. I don't know how hard or easy it is to make fries like this well, but I do know that I come across mediocre or crappy fries a lot more often than not. These are always perfect.
Just go there, even if you don't get the burger. You can't go wrong.*

*Totally uncompensated endorsement, and not swayed by any sort of bias except for this beer sitting beside me.

Five Leaves - The As-burger Syndrome*

*Named as such mostly for its eccentricity and unpredictability, as well as its ability to be really fucking incredible and spot-on when it gets it right, the analogy doesn't really go into any deeper significance relating to Asperger Syndrome , nor should it imply that I have any real understanding of the actual condition (aside from fictionalized accounts). I love this burger dearly, and do not mean to offend anyone. I'm just a sucker for a stupid pun.

When I started this post, I thought I was putting the burgers in order from my least to most favorite. However, I have had this burger several times since then (YES, I started this a while ago...I am a busy lady), and I'm sad to say I might be changing my mind - mainly just due to the inconsistency. The first couple times I had this burger, I put it above all my previous favorites with much haste - such was my enthusiasm for this extraordinary burger. Incredibly juicy, well-seasoned, coarsely-ground patty, topped with a fried egg, fried pineapple, sliced beet (in the fashion of the Australian owners' native land), and harissa mayo, all on a fresh, lightly-toasted chewy but relenting ciabatta-type roll. It's a bigger mouthful than that incomplete sentence, and worthy of at least 8 more adjectives. All previous notions of a good burger, all love for tradition, went out the window. But as the story goes, haste makes waste, and my decision proved too hasty, indeed. Because it's in the neighborhood, paired with the fact that our first experiences knocked us on our asses, M and I find ourselves consuming the Five Leaves Burger pretty frequently. More than any other. It's never bad, per se, but to put it in M's words, "The inconsistency of this burger is hilarious." Our collected empirical studies have led us to the [somewhat arbitrary and unscientific] estimate that the burgers come out either overcooked or underseasoned about 3 out of 5 times. Which is no small fraction. And it seems to be getting worse, which makes me sad because when this baby is right, it is damn RIGHT. Flavorful meat, juicy (even when overcooked) with a nice crispy char, the broken egg yolk melding with the harissa mayo, oozing its way into every bite, with the sweet tang of the pineapple and beet to cut through the richness - heaven. Anyway, it's worth a try, even if the odds are against. If you like a well-done burger, you're in luck; if you like yours either medium rare to rare, be sure to order it rare (we always order ours rare now, and have yet to receive a rare burger).
Like at Lure, there is the regular burger and the restaurant's signature namesake burger. At both places, I recommend the namesake. Also at both places, not a cheap burger - the Five Leaves Burger will set you back 15 big ones. But if you're lucky, it'll be 15 bucks well spent on a burger that won't soon be forgotten.

Night shots

I eat this burger a lot.

BLT Burger
470 6th Ave (at 12th St)
New York, NY
(212) 243-8226

Lure Fishbar
142 Mercer St (at Prince St)
New York, NY
(212) 431-7676

Stone Park Cafe
324 5th Ave (at 3rd St)
Brooklyn, NY (Park Slope)
(718) 369-0082

Five Leaves
18 Bedford Ave (at Lorimer)
Brooklyn, NY (Greenpoint)
(718) 383-5345

#38 at Pho Pasteur - Chinatown

2009-08-14T15:17:00.029-04:00

Sorry, blurry lady on the left, I didn't mean to catch you there (picking your ear?). Re-taking the picture was out of the question, as I did not feel like it.

Moline (IL), Richardson (TX), Rosemead (CA), Boston, Sydney, Toronto, San Diego, and New York City. What do all of these cities have in common? According to Google, they are all home to Vietnamese restaurants named 'Pasteur' or 'Pho Pasteur' (apparently unaffiliated) - and I am certain there are more.

So, what's the deal with Vietnam and Pasteur? Who really knows? Not I. I was unaware of how extensive the connection was until I started writing this post and googled "Pho Pasteur," which turned up numerous results from all over the world.
Curiosity and further googling led me to this:

Fully aware of the international importance of his work, Pasteur's disciples dispersed themselves wherever their assistance was needed. In 1891, the first Foreign Institut Pasteur was founded in Saigon (today Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam) launching what was to become a vast international network of Instituts Pasteur.

And then questioning my (questionable?) authority on all things Vietnamese, and dear friend, Arthur (Vietnamese by descent, but Texas born and raised), got me this response:

Arthur: something about french colonial influence
especially re: pho's origins in french consomme

Thanks, Arthur!

I don't know about other people, but to me the words 'Pasteur' or 'pasteurize' or 'pasteurization' do not really get my tummy grumbling. And if they do, it's not in a good way. But hey, that's just me.

Festive signage.
That waiter that appears to be delighted about the lower half of his body disintegrating into an amorphous blob roughly the shape of South Vietnam...really creeps me out.

Now, you might be assuming this post is going to be about pho, but you would be wrong. SO WRONG. You have never been so wrong. Shame on you.

Why the hostility, Susan? I don't really know. I'm sorry, it was a joke. I'm at work and not working (because who works on Friday?), and my mind wanders. I'm sleepy, and I have actually never had the pho here.

BBQ Pork Chop! AKA 'pokchap,' AKA 'pokechop,' AKA Com Suon Bi Cha, AKA #38 on the menu.
Pretty, no?

In my estimation, this has to be not only one of the most pleasantly polychromatic, but most satisfying meals $6 ($6.50?) can get you in this city. Or in Manhattan, at least.
It's nothing spectacular, nothing knock-your-socks-off about it. But it's hearty, and homey, and delicious. And the portion is very generous. Also, I am one who really likes to have a lot of variety packed into one meal, and this plate's got it. The pork chop itself is nicely cooked, sweet and salty (the chili sauce in the squeeze bottle provided adds a nice kick), and just moist and fatty enough without being greasy. Not once in the 8 or 9 times I've had it has it come out the least bit dry.
In fact, twice in the past month M has actually gotten 2 of these for take-away, biked them home to Greenpoint in styrofoam containers, and I'll be darned if they weren't still lip-smackin' delicious*.
Then you have the dry, shredded pork [stuff] on the side. Pork 2 ways! That's fancy. As one would expect, it is dry, and also has a sort of grainy texture. And a bit salty. I wouldn't say it's not tasty, it's...interesting. I usually eat a few bites of it with some rice and some of the crinkle-cut pickled carrots or daikon, and then try to pawn the rest off onto M, who's usually cleared his plate by the time I make it over to this part.

*FYI: thesaurus entries for "tasty" are sucks.

Egg...thing.

My second favorite part of the dish is what I like to endearingly call the "egg thing." I don't know what it is. A cupcake-shaped omelet? Anyway, it's good. Very dense, and packed with glass or rice noodles, bits of pork (pork 3 ways!), and seems to have a hint of some kind of spice that I can't place. I want to say it almost tastes a tiny bit cinnamon-y, or cardamom-y, but that actually doesn't sound very good, so I won't say it. Consider it not said.

Not the most appealing cross-section shot.

And then you have the rice, and the ornamental vegetables (which I always eat, because they're there).

For a quick, cheap, and satisfying meal downtown, to stay or take-away, this a great stand-by. The restaurant itself is a little tight, and has weird feng shui* issues (if you're not careful, you'll trip right over a 4-top directly in front of the door), but the service is fast and friendly enough. Highly recommended. I do want to try other things on the menu, but M and I are creatures of habit (lazy brains), and it's not really a place to take a group, so I can't make any promises.

*I know approximately nothing about feng shui.**

**Man, I need to cool it with the footnotes and parentheticals.

85 Baxter St (btwn Walker and White)
New York, NY 10013-4433
(212) 608-3656

Er.

2009-08-13T17:40:00.006-04:00

Blog inertia. Fuckfuckfuck.

So many pictures.

Soon, soon.

Someday, I'm gonna be a real blogger, and this will be a real blog. Again, not today.

Tonight we are doing a Miracle Fruit get-together, because we are old and behind the times, so we are partying like it's 1970. Or 2007. Or whatever.

Also, I started culinary school! Lots of things happening.

Me in about 4 hours:

This day is dragging like blargh.

Yun Nan Flavour Snack Inc. - Sunset Park, Brooklyn

2009-08-04T23:25:00.037-04:00

Perpetually catching up on posts. This happened...a while ago.

We made it back, and it was open!
Yun Nan Flavour Snack Inc.
No shutters!
This is the menu. Its modest simplicity belies the exquisiteness* of the actual food.

We let M take over the task of ordering for the four of us, which turned out to be a good move. He picked out the 2 items on the menu which he had had on previous visits, which were incidentally the 2 items on the menu with quirky misspellings or substituted marquis letters for the word 'sauce' (I assume they ran out of 'a's for the "Dumpling with hot and sour sduce." I also suspect the 'p' in 'crispy' is actually an inverted 'd.')

*'Exquisite' is probably not a word anyone would use to describe the food here - not even me. I just liked the way it sounded and contrasted with 'simplicity.' A better word would be 'drrrtylicious.' But such urban colloquial terms are not really my style, even though I just made that one up right now.
Hot 'Sause.'

M told me that the first time he went there, after he had placed his order, the owner[?] of the place asked his Chinese dining companion how he - a glaring, flaring, blaring gweilo - knew to order the two best things on the menu. Such is the mysterious wisdom of M.*
He got us 4 orders of #13 - Rice noodle with crispy meat 'sause,' and 2 orders of the previously mentioned #27 - Dumpling with hot and sour sauce. I'm usually not a fan of hot and sour, but I put my trust in him. And it was well rewarded.

*Chowhound.

Unidentifiable amoebic forms and noodles floating leisurely in a nebulous broth. How gorgeous is that? Intensified by a few plops of ripened (read: old, but better for it) chili oil from an ancient dollar-store ceramic cup: sweat-inducing bliss on a warm night.

What does "crispy meat sauce" mean? I, who have had the pleasure of experiencing this dish, still cannot say. There is no 'sauce' to speak of, but the crispy bits of 'meat' (left) were delicious. Kind of like deep fried beef jerky, but not any jerky you'd buy trapped in cellophane from a store. Richer. Untainted by processing and overseasoning. Pure, subtle meat flavor - and crispy. And those amoebic, tubular forms (right and bottom)? I think tripe - but unlike any tripe I've ever had. Exquisitely fatty and heart-rendingly tender*. Hands down my favorite part of the entire meal - I'd go back just for that. The rice noodles were also a pleasant surprise, as they were much more springy and substantial than I would ever expect from a rice noodle. This soup entails a lot more chewing than your average soup.

*Beer makes me spew maudlin descriptions like wat.
The dumplings also did not disappoint. The skin was just as thin as I like, but not overboiled to the point of turning limp. The broth, deeply imbued with meat and tangy chili flavor, was worthy of sipping on its own. The meat filling was plentfiul and had a nice bite. These, as well as the noodles, come out piping hot, which works out well because I think the flavors of both only get better after sitting in the broth for a few minutes.
Obligatory close up, in Blurry Susan Vision™.

The guy running the place, who I assumed to be the owner, was gregarious and I think very excited to have us, obvious non-locals who had journeyed out seeking his delicious 'flavour snacks,' in the place. He even remembered M from his few past visits long ago. He was extremely accommodating and pleasant - exuberant, even - despite the very tight space being slightly overtaken by the four of us, and always trying to make sure we were enjoying everything. We promised we'd be back soon, and I'm certain it'll be sooner than later.

BYOB to experience Maximum Exquisiteness.

Yun Nan Flavour Snack Inc.
774 49th St (between 7th Ave & 8th Ave)
Brooklyn, NY 11220
(718) 633-3090

Weekend Retreat / Quickfire Challenge! - Phoenicia, NY

2009-07-28T02:08:00.004-04:00

A few weekends ago, Lisa and I retreated up to her family's Summer house in Phoenicia, NY - aka my dream house. Four miles outside of town, up Woodland Valley Road, beside a serene whispering mountain creek (the only sound to be heard), the house comes complete with a wraparound porch, hammock, and porch swing - optimal accommodations for nightly bat-watching (very frightening and fun - they fly right by your face!).

One hitch in our plans actually ended up being the fortuitous impetus for this post: we missed our noon car rental reservation, because we were late and they closed at noon. (Who closes at noon?) Thus, we were forced to cab it up to the house from the Kingston bus station, making a pit stop at the Phoenicia deli for provisions, and possibly stranding ourselves in the mountains for the weekend.

We picked up some sandwich materials for lunch, some dry pasta and prepared pasta sauce for dinner, and placed them on the counter. We were 3 bucks short. While digging and scrounging for $3 worth of change in our respective purses*, two words rose out of the fog of my hungover brain: Quickfire Challenge. "Screw the sauce!" we cried, throwing caution and purse lint to the wind, and applauding our ingenuity.

*Admittedly too dainty a name for our huge crapbags full of essentials and nonessential garbage.

Delicious mountain sandwich. Turkey and muenster on toasted rye, w/mustard and mayo. [Full disclosure: this photo was staged. I wolfed down my first sandwich before realizing that I wanted to post about the trip, and so was obliged to create a new 'picture sandwich,' with cutely criss-crossed cornichons. And eat that one, too. The sacrifices I make.]

Isn't it wonderful how a 2 hour bus ride, 1 hour cab ride, and unfortunate mishaps can turn a simple thing like turkey on rye into such a beautiful, glorious thing? It was.

Kitchen Stadium (I know, mixing my cooking show references. I'm capricious like that.)

The Challenge: Make a delicious meal using spaghetti as the main ingredient, and only what was found in the pantry and fridge. Thankfully, neither of us opted to use the marhsmallows.

Susan's Cold Soba-Inspired Spaghetti Salad: did not taste good. I won't say what went in it, because I think this is something that should never be replicated. But I got points for carving radish flowers, and making little scallion wispies for aesthetic appeal. I was going for a "Summertime Garden" sort of look.

Susan's Simple & Tasty Spaghetti: onions, garlic, olive oil, salt/pepper, dry oregano, dash of lemon juice, fresh tomatoes, and turkey bacon. I played it safe this time, and it ended up pretty tasty, indeed. Not revelatory, but it did the job. It took everything I had to resist covering the whole thing in cheese.
Lisa, however, did not show such restraint.

Lisa's Spaghetti Casserole Surprise: the surprise was cheese. Gobs and gobs of 3 kinds of melted cheese. Like grilled cheese, but with spaghetti instead of bread. Lisa's an artist. It's conceptual.

Lisa's "Wakey Wakey Eggs & Bakey" Appetizer: the "bakey" is actually hot dogs, not bacon - but she's so adorable, who cares? She also cheated by making 2 dishes not using spaghetti, but the judges [ourselves] were willing to let it slide, since it meant not having to eat anymore spaghetti.

Lisa's Fiesta Salad Surprise: Lisa does not like predictable food. I'm actually uncertain what the 'surprise' was this time. Vegetables? Interestingly, her appetizer that supplanted bacon with hot dogs did not contain the word 'surprise' in the name.
She also stole that radish tulip from my dish.

In the end, we both won. Duh. We also had a lot of fun making quippy, Top Chef Judge-esque remarks like, "I can appreciate what you were trying to achieve here, but the flavors just weren't there." Lisa was a lot more ruthless than that - she was playing Gail Simmons.
Endless fun. Yes, we are nerds.

And now, some gratuitous idyllic nature shots of the gorgeous creek and swimming hole where we spent hours lying around like happy manatees (do manatees lie around?).

Nature
We watched that dude (scampering on the bottom right) catch a big fish. It was pretty neat.

Crick
(In the neck of the woods that was populated by tired nation on the fly...)

Swimmin' Hole...too cold for swimmin'.

I played tic-tac-toe with myself. It was a cat's game, which was a relief.

Fun Time House
Phoenicia, NY

Fonts

2009-07-25T22:47:00.006-04:00

I just figured out how to change the font. Hurrah.
Also, new layout.

Lucky Eight Restaurant Inc. - Sunset Park

2009-07-25T02:23:00.036-04:00

The other day (actually about 3 weeks ago now) M and I decided to trek out to Sunset Park after work to Yun Nan Flavour Snack Inc. for some delicious meaty, soupy, noodly food stuffs. Luckily the rain had stopped by the end of our long journey on the N train, so we had a pleasantly dry walk for the 12 or so blocks to our destination. And then things went downhill.

Unlucky:
"Close today sorry." Yes, close.
I especially like how they first wrote, "Close one day" - a poignant statement emphasizing the fact that they were closed only for the ONE day we randomly elected to go there.

We wandered back down the street, and upon a friend's suggestion ended up at Lucky Eight Restaurant Inc. (What's with all the 'Inc.'s? Maybe Chinese people think corporations remind people of money, which makes them think of delicious food? Who knows.)

Mmm...incorporated...

We perused the very extensive picture menu, scanning for interesting names with enticing animal parts, and - after being told they were out of the suckling pig - ended up starting with Drunken Duck and Jellyfish.

Let me tell you, this duck was drunk as fuck. If it wasn't sliced on a plate for our consumption, it would've been puking and crying in a karaoke bar singing "I Will Survive," through vomit and tears.

One of the more interesting preparations of duck I've had. I don't know if I'd call it 'tasty.' Served cold, the duck was very tender, and obviously moist, as it was totally soused with what I suspect might have been baijiu (Chinese fire water). Wikipedia has this to say about baijiu: "There are a number of accounts in English which comment unfavorably on the taste of baijiu, comparing it with, for example paint thinner, rubbing alcohol or diesel fuel." I think that's about the impression I had when my dad fed me a tiny ceramic shot glass of it sometime in college. It'll put hair on your chest. This is coming from a girl who once pounded an entire bottle of straight soju in one go, just to prove a point (I don't remember what that point was, but I definitely drove it home...several times in early college). I actually think I could have gotten a buzz from just eating it, even if I hadn't been washing it down with a Tsingtao. Being that I do have an affinity for the taste (and effects) of alcohol, this was a worthwhile dish to try, if only for the novelty and the buzz. If, however, you are not fond of the taste of alcohol, I wouldn't recommend it. Because that is what it tastes like: duck and moonshine. The jellyfish tasted like slightly pickled jellyfish - gelatinous and tangy. I wouldn't be eager to order this again.

Oxtail with Chinese Herbs. Or, blobby bits in various shades of brown. Not the most attractive of dishes.

Oxtail is a great cut of meat, and I pretty much love it in any form or preparation (that I've had). It's fatty, usually very tender, with those lovely tendon-y, cartilage-y bits, and has great flavor. This dish was no exception in that capacity. The seasoning was surprisingly delicate, and not too salty, which I can appreciate. I was going to say it tasted 'herbacious,' but that is evident in the name. Fragrant, slightly sweet, slightly salty, with notes of ginger and ginseng. The ginseng, while very subtle here, was probably what turned me off a little. When I was growing up, my mother would often stew this horrendously noxious concoction of ginseng, red dates, and goodness knows what else, in a crockpot for days at a time, and then try to force me to drink it to 'make me grow tall.' I'm the tallest in my family (5' 5"! Woohoo!) next to my dad, so maybe I have her - and ginseng - to thank. In any case, despite the eventual benefits I may have reaped, that bitter, medicinal, dirt-like flavor of ginseng is something I am not quite mature enough to appreciate yet. However, traumatic associations aside, the meat was good, and the supple sheets of soy bean curd skin had a pleasant texture somewhat like very al dente pasta.

"The Pride of Lucky Eight"

So, we ordered this dish based on an extremely laudatory description from, among others, Peter Meehan in the Times in 2007. Here's his impression:

It comes to the table, sumptuously oily, in a heaping green tangle: some kind of reedy, oniony chives shot through with the white, the green and the bulb end of scallions all separate. Perfectly julienned stalks of Chinese celery add crunch. Rehydrated shiitake mushrooms add a meaty sweetness, slices of meaty abalone a little chew. Bits of baby squid create textural intrigue, and shreds of dried scallop add a depth that’s hard to pinpoint but easy to appreciate. It looks as if each element in the dish was individually browned, then thrown together to mask the kitchen’s precision. It is, without question, the finest stir-fried dish I’ve encountered...

My impression can be summed up in three letters: M.S.G.
That's not to say that Mr. Meehan's account is inaccurate - the dish did include all or most of the ingredients he listed. And the celery was in fact crunchy, the abalone chewy, the mushrooms mushroomy, the scallions scalliony, etc. But even with that impressive tableau of textural elements, I found the prevailing flavor, a thick blanket of M.S.G., to be distracting. In fact, I think that might be the answer to Meehan's beguiling "depth that’s hard to pinpoint but easy to appreciate." Sounds about right. It did also successfully "mask the kitchen's precision" (is that a good thing?). So well that it ends up tasting - to me - like about 80% of the generic Chinese [meat/seafood/misc.] stir-fry dishes I've had from restaurants that are miles from getting a review in the Times. Those Magical Savory Granules: I know them well. There was also a "seafood" flavor, but I put it in quotes because of the way M.S.G. has of syntheticizing (that's probably not a word) natural flavors. I'm not going to say it's inauthentic, because what the feck do I know. It's just not my bag.

All in all, not what M and I would call a victory. It was fine. I still somehow managed to eat beyond my stomach's capacity for comfortably full, teetering on sick (what can I say, I'm a pro, I do it for my reader[s?]). While there were many other intriguing things on the menu that I'd like to explore at some point, I don't think we'll be racing back to Lucky Eight anytime soon. Especially when Yun Nan Flavour Snack Inc.* is just down the street.

This entry has too many words.

*We finally did make it out there when it was open...and it was delicious. That post coming...eventually.

Lucky Eight Restaurant Inc.
5204 8th Ave (at 52nd St)
Brooklyn, 11220
(718) 851-8862

Late June Supper at the Old Inn on the Green - New Marlborough, MA

2009-07-22T15:19:00.025-04:00

Guest post! This post comes courtesy of my dear friend Arthur, who recently went on what sounds like a dreamy weekend escape and an EPICurean adventure. I am hastily posting this during my lunch break*, from an emailed copy with the pictures as attachments, so there might be a stray liver or breast in the wrong place. Hope I didn't fuck it up! (If I did, then that's what you get when you try to upstage me by having fancier food and more pictures than me on my own blog, jerkface.)

Thanks for saving my ass [as always], Arthur!

*My name for any time that I'm looking at blogs at work.

I spent the last weekend in June up in the Berkshires, ferried up the Taconic Parkway alongside my dear friend Lendon (whose birthday it was) in a baby blue Chrysler Sebring convertible. Alas, rental fleets. To be fair, the Sebring did provide a modicum of enjoyable open-air motoring, in its own soft and wobbly way. The more important issue at hand, though, was where to treat Lendon for his birthday dinner. Our original plan had been to take a day trip upstate and have an early meal at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, but as the trip itself expanded, I neglected to adjust the dinner plan accordingly. So I found myself flipping through a local food periodical in a motel room and landed on a double-page ad for The Old Inn on the Green in New Marlborough, MA.

I learned with a quick Google search that current co-owner and executive chef Peter Platt purchased the Old Inn from its prior owners in 2005, three years after he left the Wheatleigh Hotel in Lenox for the inn’s kitchen. His French technique-based menus landed the inn among Food & Wine’s top 50 hotel restaurants in a recent year and earned a favorable comment from Wine Spectator, which seemed like the sparkliest accolades to be found among the endless and mostly uncompelling ads, so I thought I’d see if they could squeeze us in. Two at 8:30? Apparently no problem. Allow me to deflate all suspense and tell you now that we lucked out to a ludicrous degree and had a mind-blowing evening. I love getting away from the city.

Take your Philippe Starck ghost chairs and stuff ‘em.

The Old Inn dates back to 1760, when it was a stagecoach relay, and it’s been restored in a way that preserves a nice patina over the whole place. The dining rooms are lit solely by candlelight, a touch of authenticity that I actually relished given how sadly accustomed I’ve become to the décor so many New York City restaurants get away with. Everything about the inn, and especially the food (aside from the locality of most of the ingredients), was decidedly and welcomely un-trendy.

Once we’d ordered the tasting menu, we decided against the wine pairings in favor of sharing a bottle, and the task of choosing one wine to accompany seven distinct courses produced a crippling feeling of inadequacy. Luckily, James the sommelier only let me mumble on helplessly about white Burgundies for about 20 seconds before sparing me further humiliation with a cheaper Silvaner (2007 “Weingut am Stein,” Ludwig Knoll) that worked out perfectly.

We were thoroughly amused.

And then came the euphoric onslaught. The kitchen started by sending out two courses that weren’t on the menu: a chilled cucumber soup amuse, followed by truffle-oiled asparagus tips with pickled parsnip and radish. The cucumber soup lifted me out of a cocktail-induced inattentiveness, and even looking back over the whole meal, it was a standout – tart and grassy from a bright streak of citrus and a heavy dose of cilantro.

The first course from the menu was a roasted red beet tarte tatin with herbed chevre. This candy-sweet ‘appetizer’ could pass muster on many a fine dessert menu. I don’t know if Platt employs a pastry chef, but if not, then consider my respect for him tripled based on the care and creativity in this dish, not to mention the actual dessert(s).

Fuck a terrine. I’ll take my liver caveman style.

For the next course, Lendon had a seared diver scallop and butter-poached lobster atop caramelized fennel and lobster sauce. He ate all the lobster before I could try any, but the bite of scallop and fennel I had was awfully good. I had seared foie gras with black beluga lentil salad, chanterelles and a madeira sauce. Salad, my ass. Those lentils were heavily studded with bits of bacon (hallelujah), but even with the fois and the rich mushrooms and rich sauce, the dish as a whole wasn’t overwhelming the way its parts and generous portioning might suggest. Matter of fact, everything the kitchen sent out was consistently clean and enjoyably finish-able.

Best course of the evening; the peas prevailed.

After four courses the Silvaner was opening up nicely and I was tasting more fruit, but it was still crisp and refreshing. It paired especially well with our next course. For Lendon, crunchy-skinned arctic char with fresh peas and tarragon sauce. In his words, “the peas win.” I didn’t argue. I was too busy going apeshit over my squab – a perfectly rare breast and leg, with a savoy cabbage parcel (I have no idea what the parcel was filled with, but needless to say, it was tasty), roasted cauliflower and porcini sauce. When I first read the menu, I wondered if the proliferation of different sauces was a symptom of Platt’s French technique gone overboard. But the palate doesn’t lie, and I couldn’t find fault with any one of them – especially this one.

Both of us could have gone home full and quite happy after those five courses, and if I were to last for three more, I needed a cigarette. Out on the porch, I was taken with how dark and quiet it was, as far as I could see in every direction, and I suspected that in any other place, this food wouldn’t make nearly as big an impression. Or rather, I realized how perfectly matched the food is to the inn and its environs. The difference between this dinner and almost every other dinner I’ve had became suddenly immeasurable.

There’s even more. I shit you not.

We sat back down to an asparagus risotto with a toasty parmesan tuile. Two thumbs up to Chef Platt for cooking the rice al dente to the point of slight crunchiness. For our main courses, Lendon had a roulade of sole with saffron sauce, and I had a horseradish-crusted rack of lamb with crispy polenta and tiny vegetables in a rosemary lamb jus, both superb. The plump chop standing jauntily on my plate had a nice warm center but wasn’t at all chewy, and the accompaniments made an unimpeachable case for keeping things simple.

Perseverance yields sweet rewards. Oh, yes.

The cheese course that followed also could have ended the meal perfectly: Bayley Hazen (incidentally one of my all-time favorites – a raw cow’s milk blue from Vermont that you should seek out immediately if you’re not already a huge fan) with poached fruit and a petite salad. And, incredibly, before the dessert course from the menu, they sent out a first dessert of homemade hazelnut and chocolate gelatos in a frozen strawberry with peach-apricot compote.

The last course was perhaps the most beautiful – a frozen lemon mousse dome topped with rhubarb-white wine gelee on a platform of strawberry gelato and a graham-like crust. This was, if you haven’t been keeping track, our tenth course, but we polished it off like champs. Anything less, I feel, would have been an offense to this brilliant operation.

Petit-fours, empty bottle, full stomachs and a very light wallet.

We dropped the Sebring’s clunky ragtop and cranked the heat up for the drive back to our motel, and the bracing, fragrant country air was the perfect thing to cap off three and a half hours of sustained eating. It really was a singular performance by the kitchen. I suspect, however, that limiting oneself to two or three courses from the inn’s a la carte menu wouldn’t make dinner there any less impressive, due to the skill and distinctiveness in both the food and – just as importantly – the environment. Most of my recent food outings in the city have been of the bang-for-your-buck variety, which typically requires convincing oneself that an utter lack of ambiance is its own kind of ‘ambiance’, so happening upon such a meal in an equally inviting place made the splurge worth every penny. Even if you just want a break from the inexhaustible list of must-try places in New York (yes please!), then look no further.

The Old Inn on the Green, Route 57, New Marlborough, MA

www.oldinn.com

Many thanks to Lendon Flanagan for the photos.

Sometimes life gets in the way

2009-07-21T13:39:00.007-04:00

More coming soon, I promise, Richard.

[image stolen from www.funnydog.net via google image search]

Dinosaur BBQ - Harlem

2009-07-12T15:13:00.029-04:00

He's not the bouncer.

Before my recent visit to Dinosaur BBQ, I was unaware of this apparently massive subculture of black biker gangs, who also love good bbq. I don't know if it's because it was the weekend before the 4th of July, or if this is like an unofficial (or official, who knows) meeting spot, but the front entrance was completely mobbed with motorcycles and bikers all clad in customized leather vests. It was, how you say, very awesome.

Unfortunately, that was the best I could do in terms of getting a panoramic shot because A.) the sidewalk and half the street was crowded with bikes and bikers, and cars cruising by, and B.) I was a little nervous about blatantly trying to photograph a bunch of scary biker dudes and their biker chicks from a distance of about 5 feet - i.e. basically in their faces.

Sauces.

Fortunately, I was brilliant enough to have the foresight to call and make a reservation beforehand - highly recommended. Upon approaching the hostess stand, I heard the guy before me ask for a table for two, and was told it would be an hour and a half. He didn't seem surprised or inconvenienced, and just walked over to the bar to patiently drink a beer and watch the live band until his name got called. The inside was just as packed as the outside.
We three, however, were seated within minutes. Good call, me.
The menu has a variety of combination platters, appetizers, and sides, but we were focused on one thing: ribs. So we quickly decided on a combination of a rack of pork ribs and beef brisket, with pork and beans and (mostly ornamental) simmered greens on the side.
But first, to start, a plate of fried green tomatoes, since I had never had them before.

Proudly presented by our friendly server, in Blurry Susan Vision™.

And on their own.
They tasted like...fried. That's pretty much it. I couldn't really detect any tomato flavor or texture in there. I tried dipping it in the buttermilk dressing, and it tasted like fried dipped in buttermilk dressing. Then I poured some of the Dinosaur Habanero Hot Sauce (tasty but mild) onto it, and I think you can guess what that tasted like. So, there you go.

No matter. There was really just one reason we were there, which arrived shortly thereafter.

It looks like less food than it is, but that was a hefty helping that managed to fill the three of us up (along with some beers, of course). I think I tried a taste of the meager portion of brisket, seen at the top right of the plate. I can't remember what it tasted like, as I was so intensely focused on the ribs, and the amount of brisket they gave was such that there was just enough for each of us to have a bite or two. The beans were tasty enough, and even contained a couple of sizable bonus chunks of tender pork. The ribs, however, stole the show, and not just because of the quantity. Tender, meaty, smoky. You could taste the slow-cooking...ness. I'm not going to say these were mind-blowing, but they tasted exactly the way one imagines good bbq ribs should.

And here's the money-shot:

Not blurry! HOORAY!
Just some sexay soft focus (I think my lens is greasy).

If you click to zoom (you should) and look at the file name, it's 'hcporkrib.' The 'hc' is for hardcore.

Dinosaur BBQ
646 W 131st St. (at Riverside Drive)
New York, NY 10027
212-694-1777

Five Leaves - Greenpoint (Brunch)

2009-07-10T02:12:00.034-04:00

Rapidly falling more behind in posts - I eat more and faster than I can blog.
I did finally get a couple halfway decent pictures, but I only tried one of these 3 dishes, so this is primarily a pretty brunch picture post.

Five Leaves (after "Swan cigarette papers that tell you when there are just five left in a package") is the sort-of-Australian-influenced, hipster-quaint restaurant bar left as a legacy by the late Heath Ledger, who was a principle backer. Their Five Leaves Burger is possibly my favorite burger in New York, and I will post about it very, very soon. But for now, here's this:

Not bad, right? Pretty and brunchy.

This is the "Big Breakkie," which consists of 2 organic eggs any style, hash brown, toast, and 2 choices of sides. K said he enjoyed it, despite the fact that his eggs came out over-hard instead of over-easy. I think I asked him what his sides were, but immediately forgot, and they are obscured by the very generously buttered toast. Whatever it was, it looked tasty. But I was preoccupied with this:

This was possibly the best this-type-of-thing I've had in the city. I'm not usually into sweet breakfast/brunch foods (I tend to favor the fatty/greasy variety), but if I'm in the mood, I usually go for a fruit/yogurt/granola type thing. The fruit was all very fresh, and the yogurt was creamy and thick without being too heavy. I asked the waiter what kind of yogurt they used, and he simply said, "Greek." Thanks? This yogurt tasted a bit lighter and less tart than the Fage I usually get at the store, though maybe that's just what it was. I don't know. Maybe yogurt just always tastes better when it's served in a restaurant and costs $7.
But what really made this dish was the house made granola. I've found that there are at least two types of granola eaters (not that I generally sit around contemplating granola issues. Maybe I do). Any lovers of chocolate-coated coconut candy bars will tell you that sometimes one feels like a nut, and sometimes one does not. Same thing with granola. I, however, am invariably a member of the former category, and by that and all of my other granola criteria, this granola was awesome. An abundance of slivered almonds, pepitas, and pecans, toasted and coated liberally in honey and spices, made every bite as toothsome as a dessert, but ostensibly more healthy. And there were some oats and stuff, too.
I got a side of bacon, as well, because as I said, I do like my salt and grease in the morning. It was delicious, obvs. Smoky, salty, semi-thick cut...it's bacon. Bacon, bacon, everyone loves bacon, etc., etc., ad nauseam.
And yes, that is a pint of beer next to my fruit and yogurt parfait. Don't judge me.

M had the sage scrambled organic eggs, served with cheddar on a roll. I believe the roll is the same ciabatta-ish one that the burger is served on, which is excellent. He said it was fine, but more sage than he generally likes in the morning. Or something. I forget exactly what he said, but it intimated satisfaction tinged with indifference.

Also, that picture sucks. 2 out of 3 ain't bad.

Five Leaves
18 Bedford Ave (between Lorimer & Manhattan)
Greenpoint, Brooklyn 11222
718.383.5345

Gahm Mi Oak - Koreatown

2009-07-04T02:14:00.042-04:00

Soon Dae

I defy anyone to find or take a picture in which blood sausage looks appetizing, and does not resemble number twos.

Aaand I just started a post with the phrase "number twos." Go me!

I know that blood sausage is not for everyone, and thus this post will not be for everyone. But I love it. I have so far had Korean, Spanish, Polish, German, and Austrian versions, and all have been delicious. I'd very much like to try some good English black pudding in the near future.
The Korean version, Soon Dae, has a special place in my heart. My first encounter with blood sausage was when, as a 5-or-so-year-old I watched in speechless horror as my mother and grandmother stuffed rice and glass noodles into what my mom candidly told me were "pig guts," and then funneled the unmistakable deep burgundy liquid into it. Cooking it certainly does not improve its aesthetic appeal, as you can see above. I begrudgingly tasted some then, but found it hard to swallow. Traumatizing as that was, however, it was only a few years later that I learned to understand and embrace the virtues of that once nightmare-inducing concoction.
If you didn't think blood sausage sounded utterly repulsive before, you might now. Oops.
Anyway, I'm not presumptuous enough to have thought that I was going to convert any haters with my sanguine exaltations, and that photo. But if you do enjoy the rich taste of blood sausage, the Soon Dae at Gahm Mi Oak is excellent - probably the best to be found in an easily-accessible neighborhood in NYC. Well-seasoned (supplemented with a small dish of shrimp salt for dipping), filled with...um, some onions, spices[?], rice, glass noodles, and of course pork blood. Yum.

Soo Yook

We also got a platter of beef brisket and tongue, a fairly common accompaniment to beer drinking in Korea, and served at about room temperature, or slightly cold. I'm still getting used to photographing everything before I eat, so I forgot to take a picture before I started pecking at the thin slices of tongue. So that bald spot is where the small portion of tongue was, with one remaining slice hiding beneath the brisket, amongst which could also be found some stray strips of tripe. Mmm. The meat itself is pretty much unseasoned, but dipped in some scallion soy sauce it goes great with a tall, cold OB (I'm told it stands for "Oriental Beer"). Finely ribboned scallions, seasoned lightly with some soy sauce, sesame oil, vinegar, and chili powder, provided the vegetal counterpoint to all that meat.
The dish was fine, though I could have done with some more tongue. (A more juvenile self would have interjected a "That's what she said!" just then, but we are all adults here...and also I'm not even certain if that's the proper usage.)

The Staple

I've found that really good kimchi is surprisingly hard to come by in restaurants. It needs to be allowed to ripen and mature to the right point, and I feel that most restaurants serve their kimchi long before its prime. The kimchi at Gahm Mi Oak is far superior to its peers in that respect. I could happily eat a plate of it alone as a snack. And it goes sublimely well with the ostensible main attraction at Gahm Mi Oak:

Sul Long Tang

This is one of my ultimate comfort foods. As it arrives, it seems almost completely tasteless. But plop in a generous spoonful of salt, a couple dumps of chopped scallions, and you've got a serious umami-bomb that is deeply soothing, and great for hangovers, fevers, tummyaches, what have you (according to Korean moms, including my own, all over the world). Silky, long-simmered ox tail broth, with strips of brisket (other variations can also include tongue, tripe, tendon, and/or intestines and other bits of offal, but this one only has brisket), and at the bottom of the stone bowl lies a pillowy cushion of fluffy rice and rice noodles. Scoop up a bit of everything into a steady, well-balanced spoonful, take it gently with a small piece of the radish kimchi (kak tu gi), all together, and you'll be healed of whatever is ailing you. Or maybe not. But, it's, um...it's a really good soup.

Gahm Mi Oak
43 W. 32nd St.
New York, NY 10001
212-695-4113

Franklin Corner Deli - Greenpoint

2009-07-03T21:48:00.052-04:00

I am pretty far behind on posts right now - I have photo sets from 9 restaurants that have yet to be posted - so in the meantime here's another singular and exquisite sandwich:

The "Chicago" from Franklin Corner Deli in Greenpoint (Franklin and Huron)

Before I get to the pictures, I am just going to list the ingredients, as the photos are a little underwhelming without knowing what this hot-pressed, crusty parcel of magic entails:

-turkey
-lettuce
-tomato

...pretty standard, but then...

-thinly-sliced, breaded, fried eggplant
-provolone
-jalapenos
-black bean spread
-avocado (but I 86 the avocado, as the sandwich was introduced to me by M, who is semi-allergic, and it's rich enough without)

Now:

Critical Cross-Section shot:
Ask me why I love taking out-of-focus pictures of sandwiches, and I will tell you that I'm just a peculiar girl with peculiar predilections. But I will be lying, because the truth is it's totally on accident.
Fuzzy pictures aside, just trust me. This oblong of apparent banality will brighten the darkest corners of your sandwich loving soul. One bite might just taste like a really good turkey sandwich, then a little like an eggplant parm, and then later a burrito, and at times perverse and delightful combinations of the three. This is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Frankensandwich. It does take a bit longer to make than your average deli sandwich, but the proportion of added deliciousness greatly outweighs the added time.
And just like the sandwich, though the establishment that dispenses it looks completely unremarkable from without, it holds another special and strange secret within.

Doubtlessly and by far the best endorsement of a deli ever in the history of anywhere.

I've heard the other sandwiches are also exceptionally good, but I haven't been able to get away from the Chicago yet. I can't tell you what heroic genius decided to call upon this ragtag crew of humble ingredients to join forces and become this mutant, oneiric supersandwich - nor why it's mysteriously called the "Chicago" - but I like to imagine that maybe it was the dream-master, himself.

Franklin Corner
210 Franklin St (at Huron)
Brooklyn, NY 11222
(718) 389-8524

Ayada - Elmhurst

2009-07-01T01:16:00.006-04:00

I really wanted to post about one of my top 3 meals to eat in New York*, at Sripraphai. But it was Saturday night, and we didn't feel like waiting 40 minutes for a table, so we went to Ayada.

This was our third visit to Ayada, and every time it has been not only pleasant and satisfying, but noticeably not busy for a restaurant serving food of this quality. While I love being able to go to a great restaurant without waiting an hour to be seated, I am glad to see that business seemed to have been picking up a little this last time. (I'm so sleepy right now, and the only thing keeping my fingers typing, and my face from smashing onto the keyboard is the fear of blog inertia after only 3 posts. So this might end up just being blurry iPhone pictures, and blathering drivel, completely useless to anyone [of my 4 readers/friends/mom] looking for edifying musings on Thai cuisine. We shall see.)

*Sripraphai: som tum, crispy pork w/chili and basil, and southern style curry w/duck
The Islands: jerk chicken
Sushi Azabu: sushi omakase
(I can eat any one of these meals on the worst of worst days, and feel fine with the world afterwards. I will get to posting about these eventually).
This was our beautiful som tum (spicy green papaya salad w/dried shrimp and crushed peanuts) the first time it came out. Look how bright and lovely. It glistens.
We sent it back. Not once, but two times - each time as appreciatively and non-assholedly as possible. Because despite our most earnest attempts to impress upon the waiter when ordering that we wanted it to be "very, very...very spicy...Thai spicy," it was not. At all. And we are spice-addicts. And assholes. Sorry, but sometimes you really just gotta get your fix.
So after the second time, and much audible and fierce chopping (of chilis, I presume), we were presented with this:

Oh ho ho. Just look at that hot mess (I do sincerely despise that phrase, but it seems fitting in this context). That's dirty. And GLORIOUS. Crunchy, fishy, funky, tangy, frinky, stangy, tushy, crunky...peanuty, and spicy as all hell. To call this a 'salad' seems like a misnomer, because no salad could blow your face off like this fiery beast. You don't eat it, it eats you.
At this point, I believe the chef came out just to get a load of us. Whether he was curious to see if we could handle it, or to see just what kind of douchebags would send a salad back twice, I'm not sure.
But it was totally worth the mild shame. Also, upon witnessing our maniacal, sweaty grins, a very sweet waitress divulged to us the magic words to use next time: "Just say 'five spicy.'" At least that's what we all decided we thought she said. We'll have to see if it works next time.
Northern style Thai sausage. I'm not so big on sausage in general, unless it's blood sausage, but somehow my chopsticks kept going back to it. Garnished with red onions and slices of fresh ginger, it had a nice smoky tang, and a snappy [natural?] casing.
I think these were called "beef tenders." I'm not sure, because we had actually ordered the "pork tenders," but were brought these beef things instead. Which was fine, as these were indeed very tender. Fatty (in a good way) and savory, but not mind-blowing. The chili sauce on the side was mild, but tasty.
You can probably tell by now that the som tum is the real star in my book, as my descriptions (and irrelevant prose) are petering off. Which is extremely abnormal, as in my book the salad is almost never the star. My book is a very meat-oriented book.

This is kang som sour curry. Light rather than thick, but full of bright, tart and fishy flavor, it comes with shrimp (I failed to try one) and tender slices of omelet with spinach. Light, thick, full, bright...? I don't know. Just try it. Very refreshing on a summer evening.
The steamed fish with chili and cilantro sauce was another winner. They offered either red snapper or sea bass. We went with the sea bass. I grew up eating fish almost everday, in a variety of preparations, and I don't know if I've ever had one so tender and buttery. (Sorry, Mom.) As stuffed as I was at this point, and even after the som tum beating I'd given my tastebuds, this was a damn tasty fish. Honestly, as rich and satisfying as a good steak. I like how they covered the eye with a grape tomato, to spare the squeamish I assume, but it just makes it look like an evil zombie fish. I thought about trying to eat the eyeball, but it seemed more trouble than it was worth. The fish body was good enough.

Note: it's BYOB; there's a deli 2 doors down with a decent selection of beer.

So sleepy. 'Night.

Ayada
77-08 Woodside Ave (Elmhurst)
New York, NY 11373
(718) 424-0844

GW Supermarket - Flushing: Odorific Adventures and Emotions-Driven Snack Packaging

2009-06-26T22:15:00.061-04:00

After dinner at Hunan House, we decided to check out the GW (or Great Wall) Supermarket across the street, as the big "Grand Opening" banner was rather enticing. The mystique of "Grand Opening" signs in Chinatown, Flushing, or various other areas with a lot of Asian-run businesses, is that they can really mean anything. Usually that meaning is simply "We Are Here. Come Here." A vast number of Chinese (and Korean, and Japanese) restaurants have been opening grandly for many years, all over New York City, and probably the world.

The first thing that struck me as I walked in was that old familiar fish market stench. That special smell that makes my nose try to crawl into its own nostrils and hide inside my face. The second was this cheerful display of dancing popsicles:

At which point I immediately homed in on:

Those wavy letters were calling to me. Duuuriann. I've wanted to try fresh durian for a very long time, but have never had the opportunity, or a strong enough desire to seek it out. I've heard people say durian flavored desserts (usually durian shakes, or durian cakes) are a good way to gently introduce oneself to the unique and peculiar flavor of durian. I picked them up. More on that in a bit.

Meandering past the happy, fruity, pastel-colored chorus line of frozen treats, without any warning, I found myself standing in front of this:

That is actually just about a third of the full display. A cornucopia of unidentifiable dried meat stuffs and parts. And like the fish section, it has a singular face-smacking aroma all its own. I would've stayed to inspect it more closely, but I was starting to feel my post-food drowsiness set in, and I was worried about my popsicles melting.

We walked around a little more, through the candy, cakes, and cookies aisle. It's perhaps old news, but I never cease to find Asian snack packaging fascinating. They delve into the psyche in a [very blatant and confusing] way that American products do not. Sometimes in ways that can come in handy in real-life situations. Like, say you're going out with an acquaintance, and you're not sure where you stand - is this a date, or just a couple of buds hanging out? Just pop over to G-Dubs and pick up one of these:

It's a sweet gesture and a relationship disambiguator in one.
We also got some black sesame mochi snacks (no pictures), and these:

Jellies! A favorite of mine as a kid...and as a 27 year old grown person. Of course, I grabbed them. (Caution: open slowly and gently, unless you like artificially fruit-flavored jelly juice on your shirt and/or in your eyes.)

So, the durian popsicles. We got them home in tact, and I eagerly cracked one open. Looked innocuous enough:

Just like any old popsicle. (Not shown: the horror that lurks within.) It smelled vaguely pineapple-y, but with a very subtle "funk." First problem: in my experience, popsicles generally shouldn't have a smell at all. I put it in my mouth, and let some of the juice melt to get a good, but small, taste. I didn't know what to think, or say. I brought it over to M. "Taste it."
He, too, let it sit in his mouth for a moment, paused, repeated, and then sat silent for about 2 minutes. Then I tasted it a couple more times. And then we threw it in the sink.
I think the best way to describe the flavor in a word is "incongruous." Which is what makes it so perplexing. It seems that everyone has their own way of describing the flavor of durian, which I am sure is somewhat different from durian popsicles. In any case, this is what durian popsicle tastes like to me: pineapple, garlic, and camembert - in a popsicle. It sounds hard to imagine, until you taste it. And then it tastes exactly like that. I'm not trying to dissuade anyone from trying these, or actual durian. If these flavors sound like an appealing combination to you, by all means, go for it. For me? Gleh.
I'd still like to taste fresh durian someday, as I know the texture is supposed to play a big part in its appeal.
Someday. Not today.
Next time I hope to venture beyond the novelties and treats and spend some more time in the regular foods and produce areas. TBC.

G.W. Supermarket of Flushing, 137-45/61 Northern Blvd, Flushing, NY 11354

Hunan House - Flushing

2009-06-22T21:28:00.051-04:00

I wanted to wait until I visited Hunan House one more time before posting this - so I could include some of my favorite dishes that were not ordered this time - but then I decided whatever. I will probably post about it again at some point. Maybe later this week, as that is most likely when I'll be there again.

I guess since I'm starting culinary school in a couple of months I should maybe be a little worried about searing my tastebuds into retardation with my spice addiction, but I can't help it. Sometimes (every other day) I just need that spicy food high. When your cheeks flush, your eyeballs sweat, and your lips feel like hot leeches fastened to your skull, drawing all the blood to the front of your face. Really makes you feel alive. Hunan cuisine is not the hottest food around, but as far as Chinese goes, it's definitely up there.

Upon being seated, they start you off with some boiled peanuts, which is a little bit of salvation when you arrive at the restaurant starving your brains out after being so absorbed in figuring out the layout of your new food blog (yes, after much agonizing, it still looks like this) that you've sadly forgotten to factor the long journey to Flushing into your estimation of when you would be consuming food.

Cool, briney, and packs good flavor for an unassuming peanut [some five spice, maybe?], with a pleasant texture that falls somewhere between water chestnuts and chickpeas.
But this is not about peanuts.

Boom. Ox tongue and tripe! (I highly recommend clicking to enlarge here.) You may not be able to tell from the photo, but that shit is taking an invigorating dip in some serious chili oil. Priming itself to lay its fury all over your peanut-palliated palate. Very similar to the Sichuan fu qi fei pian (or "Husband and wife offal"), this is one of those dishes that will take up residence right next to your pavlovian switch once you've tried it. If you like spicy food, and tripe. Which I do. Very much. You will also find some crunchy crushed peanuts, some finely chopped hearts of celery, and a shitton of chili. One thing: make sure to have some rice on hand before you dive in (the complimentary hot tea provides little solace, even when cooled). I made the mistake of not waiting, and by the time my rice arrived I had a charming little red mustache where I had to keep dabbing the sweat off. Hunan Heat: it's a creeper, but it lingers.

Next:

"Braised Pork, Mao's Style." Also known as "Red-braised Pork," even though it's brown. Hmm.
I'm no expert on Mao (or anything, probably), but I'd say he was a dude who looked like he'd seen a fine pork belly or two in his time.
Come on in a little closer.

Cubes of pork belly imbued with the flavors of...brown...sauce...? Soy, ginger, some star anise, more chili oil (though not much), and some other things. Hard to tell as my ability to taste things had deteriorated quite a bit by this point. Those little dark things that look like tiny brains are chestnuts - soft, nutty, and sweet. And hidden beneath it all was a secret nucleus of what I think was boiled spinach, that felt a bit gratuitous. Or maybe obligatory - some covert roughage tucked amidst all that meat and fat. Verrry sneaky. Fooled us, I guess, 'cause we ate every last bit of it. All in all, it was a nice dish, but nothing I would wake up pining after in a pool of my own drool (which I can say ~~happens daily~~ might be a possibility with the previous dish).

We also had some pickled cabbage and chilis:

Which were also fine, if you like cabbage. Less pickled and more raw than I would like, but a refreshing respite from all the spicy, fatty, meaty things. But if I'm going for vegetables at Hunan House, I vastly prefer the "Sauteed hollow stem vegetable with spicy sauce," which regretfully we did not order this time around, and so you don't get to see them. Sorry. Next time (soon).

Hunan House
137-40 Northern Boulevard, Flushing, Queens, 718-353-1808

Primanti Bros. - holymother

2009-06-21T17:18:00.065-04:00

This actually happened in March, and I took these photos back then, vaguely planning to start a food blog. It's only June now, and here we are! First post! I'm like a freight train - bound and determined. A very slow freight train.

My dearest friend Lisa lives in LA, and living in New York I do not get to see her often enough. So, for her spring break we decided to arrange to meet [approximately] in the middle, which turned out to be Ohio, where Lisa's family lives. Knowing my preoccupation with food, she left it up to me to decide where we'd eat. And I chose Primanti Bros...in Pittsburgh. Pennsylvania.
Now, not to knock all of the exciting culinary delights to be had in Canton, OH - we enjoyed some delicious mini-burgers in a bar whose name I cannot recall at the moment - but just take a look at THIS...

...blurry photograph. Which actually works out perfectly, because it portrays how it might look in life, as your eyes well up with tears at beholding such a thing of beauty.
I am only a little ashamed to admit here that we were both a bit intimidated by its size, and so decided to share one. This here is one truly inspired feat in sandwich engineering. If you need further convincing of its impressiveness, here is a picture of Lisa wringing her tiny little hands - sweetly and patiently - in white-knuckled anticipation, as I annoyingly fumble to justly capture its essence in photo:

This is what makes Lisa a great friend, and me kind of a jerk.
Anyway.
French fries in the sandwich, people. And not just fries, but delicious, hot, fresh-cut fries, along with tomato, and coleslaw - all of which come standard on all the sandwiches. We went for the pastrami and cheese - despite the fact that the "Cheesesteak" is supposedly the local favorite, which according to the menu is the "2nd Best Seller" (the 1st is beer). The bread was pillowy and plush, cradling the rest of the ingredients ever so snugly, like puppies in a velvet blanket. Or something equally precious, and more delicious sounding. The warm fries melted the cheese onto the pastrami, bringing it all together into one succulent mass of gooey, fatty deliciousness, while the coleslaw added a fresh crunch. Everything came together in a perfect harmony of salty, tangy, starchy, crispy, gooey, and meaty. One could not ask for more from a sandwich, I think. And to wash it all down, a tall - really tall - mug of Yuengling. Mmmm, beer.

Was it worth it to drive across state borders for a sandwich? I probably need not say this, but, yes. Yes, it was.

We also visited The Mattress Factory, which was extremely fun. Really great installation pieces, many of which are viewer interactive. Like a fun house, but more conceptual and artistic, and mostly for grown-ups.
But me being me, and that sandwich being grotesquely delicious, that is the memory most likely to linger on.

And there's my first post.

Primanti Bros.:
[Several Locations]

We actually visited 2 of them:
Market Square
2 South Market Square
Pittsburgh, PA 15222

and

Strip District
46 18th St
Pittsburgh, PA 15222