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

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

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

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