The Girl Who Ate Everything

Dim Sum at East Harbor Seafood Palace in Sunset Park

2010-02-08T00:49:09Z

: They don't make palaces like they used to.

For those who aren't familiar with Chinatowns in New York City, here's a quick little lesson: There are three major ones, in Manhattan, Brooklyn (Sunset Park), and Queens (Flushing), with more on the way because daaamn, there are a lot of Chinese people. Out of those three Chinatowns, the one I've been to the least is the Brooklyn one.

But I'm slowly building my Sunset Park repertoire of "places my stomach has ravaged." Two weeks ago I ate at East Harbor Seafood Palace with Diana, Olia, Chichi, Adelyn, and Greg upon Diana's recommendation. The restaurant was crowded at noon on a Sunday, and we had to wait about half an hour for our number to be called. In Cantonese. Maybe they'll call your number out in English if you don't know Chinese, but I'm not sure. Thankfully, Diana and Adelyn know their Cantonese numbers, while I...um...can do one to ten in Mandarin, crappily at best.

: Om-a-nom-nom.

FOOD PORN TIME.

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Nubs.

Taro cake nubs: Not the official name, which I hope is something like "Happy Golden Taro Treasure Delight." This was one of my favorite dishes of the meal and the first time I ever had it at dim sum, but I love most taro (and turnip) cake-based things. It's way easier to share when cut into bite-sized cubes instead of the usual rectangular slab.

: Clams.

Clams in black bean sauce: Tastes like clams in black bean sauce. I'm usually indifferent to shellfish, so...that's all I have to say. It's good if you like clams.

: Rib bits.

Steamed pork sparerib nubs: Another dish I'm usually indifferent about. Tastes like a pork nub that's half meat, half bone.

: Shrimp dumps.

Har gow (shrimp dumplings): You can't eat dim sum without har gow. Plump shrimp dumplings = yay.

: NOODLE ROLLS.

Rice noodle rolls: Another "must order" during dim sum. Rice noodle rolls have always been one of my favorite dishes—thin, soft rice noodle skin filled with MEATY DELIGHTS. I preferred the shrimp-filled one over the the beef paste one.

: ANOTHER SORT OF NOODLE ROLL.

Rice noodle roll-wrapped crullers: I don't know why I like this dish so much. It's pretty boring—fried bread encased in rice noodle—and I can't think of any other situation where a carb-on-carb would taste good. But I like how the rice noodle layer gives an extra bit of chewiness to the bread, which is also sort of chewy. In conclusion, I like chewing.

: Vegetables, yes.

Kai-lan (Chinese kale): Chinese vegetables are my favorite—tender with a bit of crispiness, perhaps a hint of bitterness to remind you that this is a vegetable, but mostly sweet (in a vegetal way). My friends and I usually get a vegetable dish to offset the meat and carbs.

: Ruffled dumplings.

Some sort of steamed dumplings: ...In an eggy skin! I forget what was in these. But they were probably good.

: Blob dumplings.

Pan fried shrimp and chives dumplings: ~~These may have been the shrimp and pea shoot sort~~ Scratch that original statement! Like har gow, they've got the translucent wheat and tapioca starch skin. I like these more than har gow for the veg component and for being a bit crispy.

: Tofu skin rolls.

Tofu skin rolls: Steamed tofu skin filled with meat and vegetables.

: FRIED.

Bak fan yu (deep fried whitebait): Thanks to the twitter army for identifying the fish for me. This was the first time I had ever eaten deep fried whitebait, and I got hooked right away: They're the fish-based version of french fries. They taste more like "crispy crust matter" than fish, but the pin dot eyes give away their aquatic origins. If the "deep fried" bit weren't enough to make them delicious, the heavy application of salt and pepper should do it.

: Little tarts.

Dan tat (mini egg custard tarts): I was too slow to try these, but everyone else seemed to like them. Looks like there are a gazillion layers of pastry goodness.

: Mochi.

Sweet black sesame paste-filled mochi dusted in crushed peanuts and sugar: Mochi at dim sum tends to be awesome—very soft, just a little chewy, and just sweet enough.

: TOFU!

Dofu fa (hot soft tofu with ginger syrup): A comforting dessert if you grew up with it, and maybe even if you haven't. Although extra firm dried tofu is my favorite for savory dishes, silky pudding-soft tofu is my favorite for dessert. The tofu is pretty flavorless on its own; a good ratio of syrup-to-tofu makes every bite worthwhile, as it did here.

: Steamed buns.

Dessert steamed buns: One filled with lotus seed paste and a salted egg yolk, the other with egg custard. I preferred the custard; although I tend to appreciate disparate textures, the fluffy, soft bread seamlessly smooshed into a full belly of warm, creamy custard for a mouthful of awesome. I'd much prefer a warm custard-filled steamed bun over other more popular custard-filled desserts, like doughnuts or choux pastries.

: Dip!

Fried mantou: File this under "Impulse Buy." I saw it at another table and initially hesitated to tack on another dish to our bulging bellies, but THERE IS NO HESITATION WHEN IT COMES TO DEEP FRIED BREAD NUBS DIPPED IN CONDENSED MILK. Ye hear that? You order that shit right away. The outer crust, although deeply golden, is very thin; you mostly get soft, fluffy white bread, which you then smother in thick condensed milk (at first the cart lady only gave us one little dish's worth—hell no, we asked for another). It won't change your life, but, like many other dim sum desserts, is an appealingly simple sweet that seems to taste best in the context of dim sum.

East Harbor Seafood Palace got thumbs up from all of us. As Adelyn said, $12 per person (including tax and tip) = DIM SUM LOVE 4-EVER. This is why I rarely go for a non-dim sum brunch where you'd end up paying $12 for a plate of pancakes.

Roaming Around Chinatown

: Compass with chocolate.

After dim sum, we roamed around Chinatown for a bit. First stop was Fei Long Supermarket, where I focused on candy more than anything else. This candy coated chocolate/compass combo immediately whipped my brain back to childhood; I vaguely remember seeing this candy when I was a kid at a local Japanese supermarket and thinking, "YES THIS IS WHAT I WANT, candy plus a doohicky I'll never use." Whether my mom ever gave into my wishes, I can't remember. I loved the Japanese method for sucking in children by combining a weeny bit of candy with some of toy (as opposed to a plain old toy-less Snickers bar or pack of Skittles).

: Tamagotchi candy.

Because my tween obsession with Tamagotchis rages on, I bought a pack of strawberry milk-flavored Tamagotchi candy that I spied near the checkout counter while waiting in line. I'm so easily sucked in by cuteness; if I lived in Japan I'd surely blow most of my money on useless cute stuff. Although the candy comes in a gum-shaped packet, it's actually just gum stick-shaped fruit chews. Or sort-of-chews—the candy dissolved rather quickly. The best part is that each stick comes wrapped in a different paper featuring an illustration of a Tamagotchi with some sort of message (the only one I understand says how to say "Thank You" in English). If I had known that at the time I would've bought five packs.

: Diapers. God.

After Fei Long, we went to Hong Kong Supermarket a few blocks away. Aisle 1 features diapers and Godly Tribute (that is, stacks of papers and incense for burning).

: Fail cake.

We stopped into Savoy Bakery for a bit where we saw some mildly frightening Mickey Mouse cakes and less frightening Pikachu cakes. At least, I think that's Mickey.

: Triple delight.

Chinese bakeries fare better with undecorated desserts. Too bad I wasn't hungry enough to try this cake-gelatin hybrid.

Addresses

East Harbor Seafood Palace
6301 8th Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11220 (map)
718-680-0118

Fei Long Supermarket
6301 8th Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11220 (map)
718-680-0118

Hong Kong Supermarket
6013 8th Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11220 (map)
718-438-2288 (map)

Savoy Bakery
5922 8th Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11220 (map)
718-439-6343

Nom Wah Dim Sum Adventure Time
Cupcakes, Roast Pork, Hot Chocolate, and Fish Bladders
Two Days of Flushing Fooding In One Huge-Ass Post
Kåre Week, Day 4: Dim Sum, Random Art, and Arepas

I'm a Two-Slicer

2010-02-06T08:08:47Z

: x 2

"You wanna split three slices?" asked Greg when we were at Two Boots in the West Village on Wednesday night.

"I was going to eat two. I always eat two. You're not that hungry?"

"Not really. Colin and Jason are splitting three slices too."

"WHAT? But. Buh." I hesitated for a moment. I didn't really want to outeat three dudes (not that it would've mattered if they were girls) who were probably all more fit than I am, nor make Greg eat more pizza than he wanted just because I couldn't sacrifice half a slice. I AM A TEAM PLAYER. AND I WILL PLAY ON THE 1.5 SLICE TEAM.

And so we did split three slices, although I also bought a chocolate chip cookie and made us share an order of garlic knots to supplement what I thought would be an insufficient amount of pizza.

But to be honest, 1.5 slices is enough; I just always overshoot how much food I need and repeatedly suffer the gastro-intestinal consequences. The first slice goes down about as easily as a whole fish down a pelican's throat. The second slice is when things slow down. But I can eat the whole thing—stomachs expand and organs shift. To a point.

]]> For as long as I can remember, I've been a two-slicer (referring to New York-style pizza, not a personal-sized Neapolitan pie). In my cafeteria-less elementary school upbringing, we'd have a special "Pizza Day" once every few weeks. Pizza Day was the bomb—kids flip their shit over flatbread suffocated by a thick layer of cheese and pools of oil. If I could go back in time, I'd tell my younger self, "Simmer down, dude; the ratio of cheese-to-crust is totally wrong, and it's sort of alarming that underneath the blanket of cheese, the pizza appears to be steadily producing its own supply of fluorescent orange oil." (Of course, my younger self wouldn't give a crap about what I say.) My memories of elementary school pizza fixate on the gross amount of lava-like cheese and oil; the crust is secondary, and I have no idea where the tomato sauce went.

Kids either got one or two slices, as determined in the beginning of the year when we filled our our pizza order forms. I'm sure there was a time when I only got one slice—I wasn't born with an adult-sized appetite—but I can't remember it. I must've thought the one slicers were nuts. I got two slices. All the time.

And it showed in my girth. Up until 3rd grade I was pretty average, but after that I got a case of the chubbs. I have a distinct memory of one day when, after everyone in my gym class got weighed by the nurse, my best friend at the time asked me how much I weighed. I was embarrassed to tell her because she was a skinny little Korean girl that I could probably crush. On retrospect, I'm lucky I wasn't picked on more. (Sidenote: that best friend of five years ended up dumping me from her friends roster in 4th grade, probably because I was terribly uncool.) Today, my metabolism seems to keep my two slice habit in check, along with, you know, the gazillion other unhealthy things I eat (yesterday for lunch I ate FRIED CHICKEN AND CAKE, both really good).

According to this poll on Slice from December 35% of the poll takers—adults, I'm assuming—think one average-sized slice of pizza is good enough for lunch. I could only see that working if the one slice were two slices stuck together, but even Adam Kuban said he could do with one slice...supplemented by snacks throughout the day.

In conclusion: I don't really have one. I just thought about the "# of slices / meal" thing since I ate those 1.5 slices from Two Boots for dinner on Wednesday, followed by two slices from Pizza Suprema for lunch on Thursday, and as far as I know I've eaten two slices per meal every since I could eat pizza. This usually works pretty well with average sized slices, unless the pizza is topped with tortellini, in which case, one slice is all you need, and you should probably be drunk while you're eating it.

Next post will be full of food porn—I promise!

Adrienne's Pizza Bar, Blue Marble Ice Cream, and Al Di La
Some Pizzas: L'asso, Veloce, and Artichoke
Lots of Pizza at Co. / Company / Kump
When Co. Is Closed, Head to Pizza Suprema

I Almost Had a Cupcake Sandwich Day

2010-02-01T04:48:03Z

: CUPCAKES...that I didn't eat today.

This morning on the way to lunch, I unintentionally passed the Brooklyn Flea at One Hanson Place, a fortuitous encounter since I had been meaning to visit it for weeks. I paused in front of the building for about five seconds, thinking, "Do I continue to the subway or get a cupcake?"

When in doubt, choose "cupcake."

I headed straight towards Kumquat Cupcakery's table in the basement. First bite of the day: mini chocolate-caramel cupcake nubbin. Mmmm. I prefer mini cupcakes over regular sized cupcakes for two reasons: mini cupcakes provide just the right amount of cake and frosting to satisfy my sweet tooth, unlike regular cupcakes, which I usually tire of by the last bite; and bakers who specialize in mini cupcakes (such as Nine Cakes and Cake Lab, in addition to Kumquat) seem to have higher standards for their two-bite desserts than those who make regular-sized cupcakes because they have to pack more awesomeness in a smaller package.

Anyway. Good breakfast.

]]> I continued to the N train to meet some friends at The Island of Taiwan Restaurant in Bay Ridge. Although I haven't edited my photos yet, you can get a taste (pun not intended, really) of things to come by checking out Danny's review. We ordered most of the same dishes and then some, except for the stinky tofu (er, I'll save that for next time) and the pork buns (I regretfully forgot to order them).

I spent the few hours between lunch and dinner by watching The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus with John and Claire, the effects of which were slight nausea from camera angle wooshiness, and the feeling that my imagination is seriously inadequate.

We took a short walk to Baohaus for dinner—making Taiwanese food the theme of the day—and tried everything on the menu (hey, it's a small menu). Review forthcoming on that as well.

And then I wanted another cupcake, mostly due to the proximity of Sugar Sweet Sunshine down the block from Baohaus. But as we peered through the windows shortly after 7 p.m., we were met with an unlit cupcake display, employees cleaning up the shop, and a door that wouldn't budge. NOOOO WUT IT'S ONLY 7 P.M. FUGGUHWUT. (Alright, bakeries are allowed to close earlier on Sundays.)

And that's why I almost had a day that started and ended with a cupcake—a cupcake sandwich day, if I may call it that. Or, more specifically, a Taiwanese food-filled cupcake sandwich day. Good cupcakes and Taiwanese food, of course.

I quite like living in a city where the potential for such a day exists.

Exploring the Suburbs at Stop & Shop: It's Fuggin' Huge

2010-01-27T06:49:21Z

This post originally took place on December 23.

: Stop & Shop doesn't need any stinkin' windows.

Last month when I visited my mom and brother in New Jersey for Christmas, we took a trip to a local Stop & Shop because there's only so much you can do late at night in Bergen County.

...And it was also for nostalgia's sake. While growing up in Franklin Lakes, the Stop & Shop in Wyckoff was the supermarket my family shopped at the most. It was also where I got my first "real" job in 2003 near the end of senior year when I figured I may as well attempt to make a few bucks before going to college. What role did I aim for? Bagger, aka "the easiest job you could possibly get at a supermarket." I wasn't aiming to make a lot of money, just something that wasn't from my parents. $6.50 an hour for methodically placing food in plastic and paper bags didn't seem all that bad. (I hated bagging large bottles of soda though; too goddamn bulky. Cereal boxes were quite nice.)

I'm probably one of the few employees in the history of Stop & Shop who found bagging a fascinating window into the eating habits of mostly white, upper-middle class America; it was pretty different from the diet imposed by my Chinese health conscious mom. That I was taking an anthropology class at the time and was on a raw food diet probably contributed to that fascination, though. (I remember taking tabs on the customers who bought fruits and vegetables and those who didn't. Because that's what you do when everything you eat is raw.) But baggies of luncheon meats and gallon jugs of milk can only captivate a 17-year-old with a short attention span for so long—a few months, in my case. I can't remember what I did in the period between end-of-work and beginning-of-school, but it probably involved sleeping excessively and eating loads of fruit. After I stopped working there, going back to buy groceries felt awkward.

: FOOOOOD.

So...fast forward about six years. The Stop & Shop I used to work in is no more; the strip mall it once resided in got a full makeover. While the location is the same, the new building is larger—think "Walmart-esque"—and the design is friendlier and more welcoming. I rub my eyes and, through slack-jawed mouth, utter something profound, like, "Whoaaaaa." If you're accustomed to the tight aisles of New York City's supermarkets, you would too.

This supermarket probably isn't anything special to most people—hell, maybe most new Stop & Shops look like this. But all I could think is, "This place is fuggin' huge." I happily cruised the mostly empty aisles with my brother. Here are some things I thought were worth photographing.

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You can have races down these things.

Really wide aisles. Nice.

: Kids will drink anything.

That's not antifreeze; it's 99¢ gallon jugs of a "Wildberry" flavored beverage by Guaranteed Value™. I'm a fan of generic packaging; water-high fructose corn syrup-preservatives-raspberry juice-blue food coloring blend, less so.

: Hope you like Raisin Bran.

Six different Raisin Bran box designs in one section. All purple. How will you choose?

: POP TARTS GALORE.

As zigwaffle commented, there's some impressive facing going on in the Pop-Tarts section. (I think I've only tried a Pop-Tart once in my life when I was a kid—I didn't like the thick layer of frosting. Or the thin layer of filling. But I didn't like the "healthier" version from the health food store either for tasting too healthy. Toaster pastries, you cannot please me. But that's okay, because I don't have a toaster.)

: BISCUITS!!!!

The "International Foods" aisle was definitely a new addition. I was impressed by how well stocked the British section was (I didn't get it all in this photo). Who's buying all these Heinz Baked Beans, Digestives, PG Tips, and Jammie Dodgers? I dipped into the supply by grabbing a pack of Jammie Dodgers to relive the trip I took to England in 2004, during which I discovered and overdosed on biscuits. It's easy considering the vast variety in existence, and that biscuits are so pleasantly easy to snack on. Too. Pleasant.

: I suddenly have a craving...

Holy shit it's JELL-O TIME! And pudding time. I like the idea of Jell-O more than actually eating it. Growing up, my mom would rarely buy the mix, but instead combine fruit juice with Knox unflavored gelatin. It wasn't the same. Damn my infantile mind, so enraptured by artificial colors and flavors. (It still is, sort of.)

: VALUE!!

It's that Guaranteed Value™ brand again, this time bringing you five boxes of corn muffin mix for $5. Damn. I almost wanted one.

: Soda, Part 1.

There were two aisles of soft drinks. I'm used to there only being one per supermarket.

: Ka Pop.

Just because I liked the name.

: Value!

"How do we make this white tissue paper more exciting?"

"Add an exclamation mark!"

: Don't drink hot liquids.

This was the first time I had seen a shopping cart with a cup holder. I wonder how many kids have gotten burned by their parents hot beverages.

And that's my random supermarket tour. Stop & Shop is much nicer than I expected, has a huge variety of products, and is quite inexpensive (I think I got a box of clementines for $5). It's something in between a regular supermarket and a Wegmans, perhaps? I wouldn't mind having that in the city, where I usually shop at either Whole Foods or street vendors in Chinatown.

Next post: REAL FOOD.

Address

Super Stop & Shop
327 Franklin Avenue, Wyckoff, NJ 07481 (map)
201-848-1046

Veselka's Cheeseburger: Still One of My Favorites

2010-01-24T07:52:48Z

: Belly. Get in it.

I recently recommended the burger at Veselka to a friend as a good burger in the East Village. Unfortunately, after eating it he didn't feel the same way.

My first reaction: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

My second reaction after allowing my blood pressure to normalize: I can't be giving people crappy burger recs. I'll have to try it again.

Left without dinner plans last Sunday night, I went to Veselka to give it a go. In conclusion: Still good. Really good.

But before I go on, I should note that I'm not sure if the burger had succeeded merely on gustatory merits or if the mélange of unrelated demoralizing happenings coupled with low expectations had something to do with it. Maybe it was the gloomy, wet weather; maybe it was the unexpected MTA WTF-ery (aka subway rerouting); maybe it was the attempt to find a dining companion and coming up empty handed; maybe it was the lunch comprised mostly of pretzels and clementines (although that didn't make me sad, just hungry).

Or maybe I just got lucky and ended up with just the right patty at just the right doneness in just the right bun. That's how it felt.

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DRIBBLE CAM!

Pink juices slowly dribbled out of the medium rare cheeseburger ($8; $7.50 without cheese) as I took photos of it. Good sign. It got better when I took my first bite: grilled smoky beef 'splosion. The flavor managed to blast through the barrier than is my perpetually mucus-blocked nose.

: INNARDS CAM!

The bun, a brioche bun heavily coated in sesame seeds, is uniquely airy and soft, perhaps the lightest burger bun I've ever had and easily one of my favorites. But instead of being insubstantial, the sponge-like structure holds up to the patty and soaks in the juices without disintegrating. The sesame seeds add a hint of toasted nuttiness and a welcome layer of crunch around the edge, which helped make up for the lack of crust on the patty. And while the burger may not have needed the double slices of American cheese, an extra layer of semi-gooey fat never hurts.

Although I usually find eight-ounce burgers too large for one meal, I had no problem scarfing this one down—the patty was well seasoned and nearly every bite was juicy. My whole meal was shorter than the 45-ish minutes I spent on the subway to get there (yes, I need to chew more). I wasn't in a rush; I just really liked the burger. (If it means anything, for once I exercised restraint and didn't get the requisite burger side of french fries. In Robyn-land, that's eating in moderation.) The simple burger managed to lift my spirits on what would've otherwise been a wasted day.

For a more in depth review of this burger, read Nick's review on A Hamburger Today. Not everyone agrees with the praise—there are reports of inconsistencies, and I know Adam isn't a fan and Kathy isn't into the bun—but I'm definitely going back for another burger. (Veselka is primarily known for being a Ukrainian restaurant and understandably doesn't scream, "GET A BURGER," but if I want pierogies / goulash / stuffed cabbage / etc. I'd rather go to Lomzynianka in Greenpoint.)

Address

Veselka
144 2nd Avenue, New York, NY 10003 (at East 9th Street; map)
212-228-9682; veselka.com

Top 5 Burgers in NYC + Recent Episodes in Extreme Shake Shack-ing

Szechuan Gourmet, at Least One Reason to Go to 39th Street

2010-01-21T04:24:02Z

This post originally took place on January 7.

: Szechuan Gourmet.

I have no good reason for not having been to Szechuan Gourmet more often considering how close it is to my office on 27th Street and that I usually slobber at the thought of Sichuan food (I'm going to stick to "Sichuan" to refer to the cuisine even though the restaurant uses "Szechuan"). But 39th Street between 5th and 6th avenues feels like a zone of nothingness, furthermore, a zone in the opposite direction of my apartment. So I forget it's there and continue to point my merry band of eaters to Grand Sichuan or Famous Sichuan instead.

It took Tina's organizational skills to bring Liza, Ben, Colin, and I together for dinner at Szechuan Gourmet. In conclusion, I MUST GO BACK! Oh wait, I can't conclude yet; you should probably look at what I ate first.

: Spicy cucumber salad.

Spicy cucumber salad ($5.95): Crispy cucumber chunks = very good delivery system for spicy sauce.

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Smoked tofu shreds.

Smoked tofu shreds with Asian celery ($6.95): Dried tofu is my favorite sort of tofu; it's firm and has a mildly chewy texture. But it wouldn't be all that satisfying if I just ate a wad of it. Matchsticks of thin celery stalks add pockets of crunchiness and freshness to each bite. And spicy sauce makes everything better.

: Dan dan noodles.

Dan dan noodles ($4.50): Aside from anything involving rice noodles, it's one of my favorite Chinese noodle dishes. Mix the noodles with the little heap of minced pork, chili oil, and cooked spinach. BOOYAAARRH DELICIOUSNESS. Fuchsia Dunlop has a recipe for this in Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper that I keep meaning to try. Note to self: try it.

: Double cooked sliced pork belly.

Double cooked sliced pork belly ($13.95): Thinly sliced pork belly mixed with tingly chili sauce and leek greens. I think my favorite version is still from Famous Sichuan, but this was perfectly fine. This is another dish I should add this to my "learn how to make at home" list. (The last thing I made at home didn't even involve cooking: it was a hodgepodge of a bread salad including cucumber, snow peas, cannellini beans, and canned corn. It lasted two meals, but I got sick of it after the first. Then again, I made it because I was feeling over-meat-ed, which isn't a problem that pork belly will solve.)

: Tea smoked duck.

Half Camphor Tea Smoked Duck ($15.95): I didn't eat much of this, so I don't recall many details besides that the smoked meat wasn't dry, nor oozing poultry juices. Good, but didn't leave a big impression. There were more bony bits on the plate than I was expecting.

: Crispy lamb.

Crispy lamb fiilets with chilli cumin ($15.95): Perhaps I was too distracted with the lamb to think about the duck. This is one of my most favorite lamb dishes ever (and like many others, one of my favorite dishes at Szechuan Gourmet)—the lamb chunks are super tender and lightly dusted with cumin and chili, resulting in a very slightly crispy exterior.

We could've eaten much more, but it's a good thing we stopped there, just before the point of pants-popping stomach distension and grabbing my belly while moaning, "OH MAN I ATE TOO MUCH AGAIN WTF" (this happens with disturbingly high frequency). That just means I'll have to go back and try more dishes.

Address

21 West 39 Street, New York, NY 10018 (b/t 5th and 6th aves; map)
212-921-0233

Nom Wah Dim Sum Adventure Time

2010-01-16T05:39:36Z

This post originally took place on January 10.

: Yup, there's food.

"Are we...um...getting food?" I asked.

Diana, Greg, Adelyn, Jessica, and I were at Nom Wah, officially Chinatown's first dim sum parlor (open since 1920) according to the sign on their window, unofficially Chinatown's least occupied restaurant according to the meager clientele last Sunday night. And that's counting the two tables of old men in the back of the restaurant who were playing mahjong.

Our friendly waiter/chef/one-man-band had greeted us when we entered the restaurant and brought us a massive metal pot filled to the brim with scalding hot tea, but disappeared into the kitchen for a long enough time to make us wonder, "Does this place actually serve food?" And yes, you would wonder too, considering Nom Wah doesn't bother with menus, and we were the only people there who had the intention of eating. They serve you dim sum based on the number of people in your party. After Adelyn went to the kitchen to investigate the situation, she returned with a positive report.

"He's making food! He's back there with a huge steamer."

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Hanging around. With the opportunity to pee.

In the meantime, we soaked in our surroundings. The purpose of the night was to help Diana with her Wong Kar-wai-inspired photoshoot, featuring a dapper Greg and female cohorts Jessica and Diana. Adelyn and I were her assistants. Nom Wah was the perfect setting: it looked—and smelled—as though it hadn't changed in decades. It didn't feel dirty as much as worn down. Aged red vinyl booths, simple wooden chairs, mirrored columns with coat hooks (some broken), high shelves of ancient-looking tea and teapots, an antique range that was being used as a table/storage, and so much more. Surprisingly, the clock on the wall was correct.

: COOKIES.

One of the most peculiar things to me was the single display case to the right of the entrance filled with stacks of large almond cookies. It's a bit hard for me to believe that hoards of cookie-hungry customers regularly descend upon Nom Wah so that it's worth keeping a case stocked with hundreds of cookies. But...there they were. For some reason. I sort of wanted to know how old they were, but at the same time was happy to remain ignorant.

We didn't nurse our cups of tea for long before our waiter reappeared with a large tray full of plates and small metal steamers. He gave us at least five pieces of each item so we could eat try one. Which meant we were given up to eight pieces of certain dishes. Which meant, "Oh jebus this is a lot of food." A lot of, unfortunately, not very good food—something that didn't sink into my head until hours after the meal was over because, being so hungry at the time and drunkenly charmed by the setting, I ate everything sort of ravenously. Mastication and tasting weren't high priorities.

Well. Um. Here's a rundown of the dishes:

: Har gow.

Har gow (shrimp dumplings): I only ate one, so I don't recall much about it besides, "Not very good." That's probably why I only ate one.

: Pork dumplings.

Pork dumplings: I've never had pork dumplings quite like these before. The filling had a denser-than-average texture and the flavor was a bit off. I don't think I finished a whole piece. :[

: Roast pork buns.

Steamed char siu bao (roast pork buns): Soft fluffy bun to the rescue! The pork filling was fine&mash;not memorable nor objectionable—but we were all more into the bread. Overall, not bad.

: Sticky rice dumplings.

Sticky rice dumplings: Balls of sticky rice wrapped in some sort of ...skin. Simple lumps of carbs. These were my favorite dish of the night, even if the glutinous rice was on the dry side. I love most iterations of glutinous rice.

: Rice noodle rolls.

Rice noodle rolls with mung bean sprouts: I've never had rice noodle rolls filled with mung bean sprouts before. They add a pleasant crunch. The rolls were tougher than usual, but I ate the whole thing because I EAT EVERYTHING. Especially if it's rice-based.

: Shumai.

Shumai: Not so great. I think it's safe to say the meat-centric items here lean towards "fail," but considering the prices (I'll get to that soon), it's not surprising.

: Shrimp balls.

Shrimp ball things: Like fish cakes, but shrimpy. Soft with a bit of sproinginess. Not bad.

: Empties.

The amount of food was just right; not much was left behind. Our expectations were so lot that despite the food being subpar, we were pretty satisfied with it. Things got even better when the waiter gave us our bill.

: ...Wut.

$18? $18? There was no indication on the bill of how many dishes we ate, just a simple total. $18 for at least 10 dishes that fed five people; dinner can't get much cheaper than that. Granted, the cost of the ingredients for our dishes was probably negligible, but there are other costs involved, like...salaries, electricity, gas, etc. Or maybe not.

: Dessert.

We finished with an almond cookie and a fortune cookie for each of us. I rarely eat almond cookies, but I thought this one was good—light, crisp, buttery. My fortune cookie was good too, or as good as a not stale fortune cookie can be. And my fortune was quite apt:

:) You are sociable and entertaining. :)

(Replace the emoticons with actual smiley faces.)

Indeed, I AM FULL OF AMUSEMENT.

: There's a human under there. Maybe. Photograph: Diana Yee

My main role during the photoshoot was "human coat rack / bag holder / pack mule. Which was fine with me; the models (Greg and Jessica) had to frequently go jacket-less in the bitter cold. Not only was I wearing my super poofy sub-freezing weather-appropriate jacket, but I was covered in like, two more jackets. On my head. I felt like a winner!

: Another weird roboppy face.

During dinner we found a pair of neglected glasses on the neighboring table. We could tell from the thick, square plastic frame that they were probably meant for someone much closer to blindness than we were. So naturally, we passed it around the table and each tried it on for a dose of dizziness and buggy-eyed action.

: The cook/waiter strikes a pose. Photograph: Diana Yee

We moved about the restaurant as we pleased, taking a gazillion photos along the way (check out Diana's photos here and here) without any question from the cook/waiter. I can't imagine what he must've thought of us: "Why is that young woman sitting on a table in front of the mirror? Why are they hanging around those stools? Why is that other young woman uncomfortable wearing heels?" I can't imagine any other public place where we could've done this without drawing attention to ourselves. If we annoyed the crap out of him, he didn't show it; he was super nice. It'd be great to find out what his story is.

: Bye bye, Nom.

When we left around 7:30, the cook/waiter was preparing to leave the close the restaurant. Sort of. After he left—we noticed since we stuck around Doyers Street to take more photos—all the lights were still on and the mahjong-playing men were still in the back. I loved that.

: Lip balming.

The night continued with a random photoshoot inside the hallway of a nearby office building. I forgot to get good photos, hence why I ended up with this mid-lip balm application shot of Greg.

: Zong zi come to meee.

We also made a random stop at Mee Sun Cafe (next on our Chinatown "To Eat" list) where I bought a zong zi.

: CAKE.

The night ended at Hon Cafe, one of the few bakeries in Chinatown that's open late, for more dessert. Greg bought a log of rolled up cake since it was only $2 and it ended up being pretty good—moist, spongy soft, not too sweet. No idea why it was so cheap compared to their other offerings.

: Awkwardsauce? Greg, me, Jessica, and Diana.

Although it's only January, I can confidently say that dinner at Nom Wah will be one of the most memorable meals of 2010. It doesn't matter that the food wasn't great; it was the people I was with at the environment that made it an incomparable experience. I feel sort of hypocritical heaping on the praise as someone who is generally opposed to the idea of eating somewhere purely for the setting instead of the food—think "trendy restaurant with hip customers and overpriced food"—but Nom Wah is the opposite. And I like that.

Addresses

Nom Wah
13 Doyers Street, New York, NY 10013 (b/n Pell and Bowery; map)
212-962-6047

Mee Sun Cafe
26 Pell Street, New York, NY 10013 (b/n Doyers and Mott; map)
21-349-5260

Hon Cafe
70 Mott St, New York, NY 10013 (b/n Canal and Bayard; map)
212-219-1431

Diner in Williamsburg: Still Awesome

2010-01-09T09:04:11Z

This post originally took place on December 13, 2009.

: Salad. Yum.

How to vastly improve a salad: add a fried egg.

Hell, many things would be improved by adding a fried egg. Piece of toast too boring? BOOYA—plop on a fried egg. That bowl of ramen looking lonely? KAPOW—fried egg to the rescue! Your plate looking empty? ...Because there's nothing on it? I know what would make that better—oh hell, IT'S A FRIED EGG.

The salad ($10) I ate during brunch with Greg, Kathryn, and Dan at Diner featured mustard greens mixed with pickled shallots, thinly sliced jerusalem artichoke, and bacon nubs tossed in a potent vinaigrette (perhaps a little too much of it, but I didn't mind) all topped with a bulbous fried egg, thankfully well salted and peppered.

Unfortunately, since I ate this about a month ago and they change most of their menu every day, the salad they're currently serving won't be exactly the same—but I'm sure it's awesome. I can still remember how good my salad during my first visit to Diner in 2008 was, and it was totally different from the one I ate last month aside from also having something pickled. Hell, it was awesome even sans fried egg. A memorable salad that's unique and well balanced is hard to come by. I don't know where else to get one. (Admittedly, I haven't been looking, nor have I tried to make one myself. I'd like to delve more into the subject of how a really good salad can fill me with joy of a higher quality than that derived from a really good slab-o-pork, but I need to eat more good salads. God knows I've eaten enough pork.)

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BURGER TIME.

Although I think it's best to try new things when eating out, I ordered the same entrée as last time: a cheeseburger ($13). It was important that I find out if it still held up as one of my favorites in New York City. ...It's "research." Also, I wanted a burger. A thick patty coated in cheese and topped with lettuce and fat rounds of pickled onions. Thank god for pickled onions: They provide the crunchiness of raw onions without the unpleasant effect of making my mouth feel like something died in it for the rest of the day.

: INNARDS!

The burger didn't strike me as full of butter-dripping goodness as my previous experience, but it left its impression as "excellent" for another reason: the mega-beefy and funky flavor, to the point of making me wonder, "What the heck did they put in this meat?" I obviously don't eat enough good beef. Kathryn likened it to steak-on-a-bun. This ain't no bland burger (it probably doesn't need the cheese), and it was just juicy enough when cooked to my preferred medium rare. The bun suited the meat and toppings well—I don't recall anything particularly great or bad about it. In addition to the awesome burger, the thick, crispy fries are great too. When I inevitably return to Diner, it'll be hard to want to order anything else.

: Country breakfast.

If you prefer more typical breakfast fare, go for the country breakfast ($13). Like the salad, this is one of those dishes that might change from time to time. During our visit, the platter included scrambled eggs (well seasoned, woohoo!), biscuits and gravy with sausage, and a salad.

: French toast.

While Greg and Dan went for the breakfast plates, Kathryn went with the vanilla bean bourbon French toast ($10). But French toast on its own doesn't really cut it, so...

: MEAT.

...she added a side of crispy bacon. Pork completes the meal.

: Scone.

The pear and cranberry scone ($4) filled with what may have been something lemony and a plop of something creamy was not particularly memorable, as I've exhibited in this sort of useless paragraph. It wasn't bad, nor great.

: Bloody Maria.

I tried a sip of Dan's Bloody Maria just for kicks, knowing very well I wouldn't like it. It elicited the common Robyn response: a face scrunch or two, after ingesting a half-sip's worth. I'm about 156% sure that I'll never understand the appeal of cold spicy alcoholic tomato soup, but I'm okay with that. I'm open to trying any alcoholic drink at least once, mostly for the purpose of being able to confidently put it in my "do not want" list, partially with the minuscule hope that I'll find something that I don't dislike too much. Unfortunately, I don't think that day will come until most of my taste buds have died.

Of course, my reaction has no bearing on how good the cocktail was. Unless it's an inverse correlation—perhaps the less I like a cocktail, the better it is to the rest of the world.

Address

Diner
85 Broadway, Brooklyn, NY 11211 (map)
718-486-3077

Diner: Salads and Burgers, Gimme More

Learning How Not to Eat Soup Dumplings at Famous Sichuan

2010-01-04T06:00:16Z

: Oh no.

"Oh god, did you just put the whole dumpling in your mouth?"

Colin didn't respond. His face was frozen. Probably because the soup in the dumpling was burning off the lining of his mouth.

"You're not supposed to do that! I thought you knew. ...Oh crap."

Pinkness crept into the outer rims of his eyes. Then tears welled up. He was still silent. If I were him I would've spat out the dumpling, but he decided to see how much pain his oral mucosa could endure. Either that, or he couldn't move. Tristan and I stared helplessly and maybe laughed a lil' bit until the very end.

]]>

I'm not gonna lie; this photo makes me LOL.

"Oh god, my whole mouth feels burnt."

And that is why you do not stick a whole soup dumpling in your mouth, kiddies. If it hasn't had time to cool off, at least. Thank you, Colin, for setting an example for the rest of us. WE LOVE YOU.

: Tofu!

Thankfully, Colin is built tough and his taste buds appeared to work alright for the rest of our meal at Famous Sichuan. Their version of General Tso's Tofu continues to be the best fried tofu dish I've ever had. Admittedly, I haven't eaten many fried tofu dishes, but I'm hesitant to try any others and be disappointed. It's not just that the tofu cubes are crisp on the outside and creamy on the inside, but that there's a large pile of em. I don't want a little appetizer, I want a MOUNTAIN. Yeah, I'm a pig.

: Garlic! With spinach.

Sautéed spinach with garlic was great. Hard to go wrong with lots of spinach + lots of garlic.

: PORK.

I was less into the pork bacon with Sichuan pickle as it's called on the menu, or mei cai kou rou in Chinese (pointed out by Michele). I loved the pronounced layer of fat, but the meat tasted a bit dry and oversalted, and the bed of preserved mustard greens had too much of that funky fermented flavor for my liking. I still ate most of it because...um, it's PORK BELLY, but I had a better version of this at Yeah Shanghai Deluxe over a year ago; perhaps it's time to go back there.

: Little burning buns.

As for the crab and pork steamed buns (aka soup dumplings, aka xiao long bao), they're pretty good. They're not the prettiest dumpling nubs, but they're hearty and I like the taste of crab-infused pork.

Address

Famous Sichuan
10 Pell Street, New York, NY 10013 (map)
212-233-3888

String Beans and More (String Beans) from Famous Sichuan
Grand Sichuan, I Love You
Another Flushing Food Tour: Dumplings, Crab, Shaved Ice, Stinky Tofu, Etc.

Pyzys and Polish Things from Krolewskie Jadlo in Greenpoint

2009-12-31T06:33:35Z

This post originally took place on December 18. And HAPPY END OF 2009, GUYS!

: EMPTIES. Kind of like in my previous entry.

omg this is one of the most incredible meals of my life. and such amazing company!

Tristan tweeted that during our group dinner at Krolewskie Jadlo ("King's Feast") with Kim, Veronica, Scott, Lee Anne, Chris, and Colin. He followed that tweet 14 minutes later with another one:

BEST NIGHT EVER

I can't argue with that. While the food was good, the company was better. And while I consider myself a modest person, I ain't gonna lie: I have some of the coolest friends in the world (yeah, yeah, I have yet to meet billions of the other people who walk this earth, but I still stand by my statement) and I take pride in the moments when I mix friends together for optimal awesomeness. Admittedly, the trio of Tristan, Colin, and Greg (who couldn't make it; so his loss) makes it easy since their powers combined tend to result in "awesome super fun time" no matter the situation. We could be stranded in a pool of mud in the middle of nowhere with a broken-down car and it'd probably be fun. Until we died of starvation. I'm sure Greg would exchange hand puppet gestures with me until the very end.

The potent Tristan-Colin-Greg combination may not appeal to everyone, but whatever inexplicable level of randomness and weirdness they produce puts me at ease, along with many other friends I introduce them to. I wish I could regale you with the night's conversations, but I forgot most of them (I can still recall the cackling and guffawing, though). This is why I should take notes: to remember the conversation, less so to remember the food. I can take photos of a roasted pork hock, but no image could adequately capture Colin's babbling about eunuchs. Which might be for the best.

AND SO HERE ARE THE FOOD PHOTOS! With not much else, because my knowledge of Polish food is sort of nonexistent. I'll gladly listen to anyone willing to school me in Polish Food 101.

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Bread.

Before we ordered, we snacked on complimentary bread and cukes with a chickeny spread, or what I thought was a chickeny spread until I read Jason's review at Me So Hungry—he says it's smalec, a lard-based spread (although he also notes it may be chicken-based). Not knowing what it was when I was eating it, chicken fat is the only flavor I remember. It wasn't intense; maybe it was a mix of animal fats, forming a most delicious hybrid fat spread.

: Bacon!

I don't love bacon on its own, but it's great as an extra layer of crispy-savory-fatty-smokiness when wrapped around other foods—hot dogs and shrimp, for example. Or, in this case, prunes.

: Ukrainian borscht.

Their menu listed red borscht and Ukrainian borscht. I picked the latter for no particular reason. It's a creamy dill-flecked soup full of vegetable chunks, mostly beet, among other things I don't remember. We passed the bowl around the table; it's all a blur. A well-seasoned blur.

: Little pancakes.

Kings potato pancakes consisted of crispy bite-sized potato pancakes topped with a dollop of herb cream and smoked salmon. I sort of want a full-sized version that could cover the whole plate. And then I'd eat it.

: Polish Plate.

The Polish plate looked pretty sweet, filled with pierogis, stuffed cabbage, kielbasa, and potato pancakes. Alas, it wasn't my dish.

: HOCK!

Nor was the roasted hocks in beer. Colin regretted his order about a second after the waitress left our table. "Why did I get fuckin' hocks? Are they going to be raw? It's gonna suck. WHAT WAS I THINKING?" And after all that worrying, it ended up being the best thing on the table. Majorly tender, flavorful pork under a fat layer of...well, fat. Count in that the portion was huge for only $8 and it's a win. Definitely order this.

: Pork on a stick.

I ordered the pork shish bebab with bacon and prunes (says plum on the menu), which was unfortunately not bursting with porcine succulence like the hock. These pork nubs were on the dry side. Oh well, still edible.

: Pierogies.

We shared a combination plate of fried pierogies topped with sweet sautéed onions. I didn't find them much better or worse than other fried pierogies I've had; as pierogies are wont to do, they satisfied my craving for heavy chunks of fried dough. With stuff in the middle.

And although my photo seems to have disappeared (sniffle), I also liked Tristan's breaded tilapia.

: PYZY.

The award for "Worst Thing on the Table" went to Scott's pyzy, oblong baseball-sized potato dumplings stuffed with ground meat-n-stuff. From afar they resembled disturbingly large, glistening, snow white alien egg sacs. That's not a good thing for a dish to look like. It didn't actually taste bad—the texture reminded me of sticky rice à la zong zi with a little less chew—but it wasn't nearly as flavorful as the other food we had eaten. It lacked oomph.

: MAKE IT SPEAK. SPEEEAK.

So Scott gave it a higher purpose in this world, that purpose being "to conjure gleeful laugh-spasms from the depths of the human soul," by turning the remains into a pyzy puppet. Kim took a video that I'll have to get later. Because it was awesome. Really. It was the highlight of the dinner. Scott is very good with puppetry, including the potato-based sort levered by a fork.

: SALADY THINGS!

One of my favorite parts of the meal was the variety of salads that came with the entrées: coleslaw, sauerkraut, cucumber slices in a creamy sauce with dill, puréed beets, and maybe others I didn't get a photo of. I'm generally a fan of any vegetable side dish that automatically comes with a meal.

: Cheesecake.

Since half the table had ordered the dinner special of an entré, beer, and dessert (I forget what the price was, but I'm sure it was cheap), we ended up with a few slices of unmemorable cheesecake, along with a slice of apple pie that seemed to be in the defrosting stage.

: BLINTZES!!

I went straight for the blintzes; it's a requirement whenever I eat at a Polish restaurant. They weren't part of the dinner special, which I hadn't ordered since I don't drink beer. Unlike the log-like blintzes from Lomzynianka, these were folded into wide rectangular pockets. My two blintzes, a blueberry and cheese and a strawberry and cheese (I assume it's cottage cheese or something similar), came topped with a pile of whipped cream, a spiral-cut orange slice, and a maraschino cherry. I would've preferred a crispier crust, but these were still good—a just sweet enough combination of thin, eggy pancake with fruity jam and a light dairy buffer.

: Veronica is blocked by a parking meter. Oops.

After the meal was over, my first impression was that I liked Lomzynianka more, but the menus are different, as are the environments. Lomzynianka is bright, small, charmingly festooned with random decorations, homey; I felt like I was eating in someone's mismatched living room. Krolewskie Jadlo is large, dark (well, if the sun's not out), woody, resembling no one's home unless it's medieval-themed with swords on the wall. If I want pierogies and blintzes, I'll go to Lomzynianka; if I want a big lump-o-pork hock and a table that seats eight, I'll go to Krolewskie Jadlo. And while I sort of want to explore other Polish restaurants (give me recs if you've got em!), I mostly want to go back to Lomzynianka to try their huge potato pancake.

Address

Krolewskie Jadlo
694 Manhattan Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11222 (map)
718-383-8993

The Cheap, the Delicious, and the Awkward at Lomzynianka
Black Pearl, Odessa, brgr, Tebaya, Big Booty, and More
Polish, Japanese, cupcakes and more: diet of a champion

15 Dishes (Or So) at SriPraPhai

2009-12-27T04:54:01Z

This post originally took place on December 14.

: OH YEAH.

A few weeks ago James organized a food blogger dinner at SriPraPhai, surely New York City's most famous Thai restaurant (and I had only eaten there once before—I fail). Ye know what that means: SO MUCH FOOD, OH MAN.

Here's what we ate. By this point I unfortunately don't remember much besides that I ate too much, and while coddling my distended belly I thought, "I need to do that again." To help pare this down to the good stuff I added a * to my favorite dishes (aka "dishes I'd like to order again").

: BBQ Beef

BBQ beef: with chili, mint, onion, and lime juice. Those four ingredients make everything taste good, as long as you are a fan of tart and spicy.

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Ground pork.

*Ground pork: with ginger, chili, peanut, lemon juice, and onion. Another tart and spicy combination. I liked it more than the BBQ beef, probably because it's pork-based.

: BBQ Pork

*BBQ pork: marinated with honey and served with chili sauce. More pork-based power.

: Papaya salad.

*Papaya salad: shredded papaya strands, green beans, and carrots with dried shrimp and peanut. Multiple kinds of crunchy in one salad.

: Pad-See-Ew.

Pad-See-Ew: sautéed wide rice noodles in soy sauce with chicken and broccoli. I love just about anything in the "rice noodle" category (aka "my favorite type of noodle) for that bit of chewiness and elasticity not found in wheat noodles.

: Pad Thai.

Pad Thai: sautéed rice noodles with bean sprouts, egg, shrimp, and peanuts. I don't remember much about this dish; certainly not the most exciting part of the menu. You probably don't go to SriPraPhai for the Pad Thai.

: Green curry.

Green curry: with duck, bamboo shoots, and coconut milk. ...And other stuff the menu doesn't mention.

: Chinese broccoli.

*Sautéed Chinese broccoli: with crispy pork. That's how you make broccoli better. With pork!

: Nur-Sub noodles.

Nur-Sub noodles: sautéed noodles topped with ground beef and onion. I might have the wrong description seeing as I don't even remember the noodles, but there was definitely beef and onion.

: Eggplant.

Sautéed eggplant: with ground pork, garlic, chili, and basil leaves.

: Sour curry.

Kang Som: sour curry with shrimp and cha-om omelet. Yay omelet chunks.

: More curry!

Kao-Soy: curry egg noodles with chicken.

: FRIED FISH!

*Fried red snapper: topped with green mango sauce and loads of shredded green mango and red onion. THIS IS SO GOOD. Had that tangy spicy thing going on, and whole fish is my favorite kind of fish.

: Fried soft shell crab.

*Fried soft shell crab: with side of green curry sauce with pineapple, pumpkin, and long bean. I'm not sure I even tried the curry; I went straight for the fried little crab bodies, soft on the inside, lightly crisp on the outside. Easily my favorite form of crab. They have a few dishes with soft shell crab; I shall try all of them.

So my favorite dishes are generally fried, porky, or appetizer-y. Along with...

: Cute container.

*STICKY RICE!!! It goes well with appetizers and salads. Or everything. I love sticky rice.

: I see corn.

Out of the three desserts we picked from their refrigerator case, my favorite was the one with *tapioca pearls, coconut milk, and corn. Not knowing there was corn in it when I took my first bite, I was surprised to taste globules bursting with sweetness, yet "corn" didn't cross my mind until I looked more closely at what I was eating. That is, a bright corn kernel here and there, nestled among the soft lime green tapioca pearls. It's a good combination.

: Nom nom.

Few leftovers remained. That's what happens at the wrath of 10 food bloggers / hungry people. Eating companions of the night: James, Cecilia, Talida, Alex (+ friend), Evo, Ulla, Tia, and Esther.

: Gotta get organized.

Thanks to Talida for being the scribe of the night! Or else I would've forgotten what we ordered.

Address

SriPraPhai
6413 39th Avenue, Woodside NY 11377 (map)
718-899-9599

Quick rundown: cheese, Thai, brunch, and Indian

I Like You, Chocolate and Almond-Coated Vanilla Ice Cream Bar

2009-12-22T05:25:41Z

This post originally took place on December 4.

: Lots of stuff on injera. Mm.

After stuffing myself with injera and stews spanning a wide range of browns at Awash with Tristan and Veronica, I was the only one who wanted dessert. And it was a pretty specific craving.

'I'm looking for a vanilla ice cream bar covered in chocolate and almonds. Needs almonds! OKAY? We'll find this. Let's go to a bodega."

So I dragged them down Amsterdam Avenue while loudly vocalizing* my desire for the right ice cream bar, into the first bodega we came across. They had chocolate covered vanilla ice cream bars, sans almonds. No good. KEEP MOVIN'.

: There it is! Upside-down.

The second bodega was better stocked with the frozen spawn of Häagen-Dazs. Sandwiched between some almond-less ice cream bars was my coveted vanilla and almond bar. I have no idea why I wanted one so badly; I couldn't tell you the last time I had eaten one. Bunch of years? Bunch of years x 2? But, unlike revisiting the Choco Taco—which unfortunately tasted much better the first time I ate on in high school than when I tried it again in May, resulting in me never wanting to eat it again—the vanilla and almond bar tasted exactly as I remembered. Which was, really good. A thick crisp chocolate shell studded with roasted almond bits, with smooth vanilla ice cream innards. What's not to like? So simple, yet, so full of win.

]]> I happily nibbled on my bar as we walked to the subway station. And down the stairs into the station. And while we were riding the subway. I felt as carefree as an ice cream-loving five-year-old, until I took that last messy bite—you know, like, "How do I eat this without making the final bit of barely-solidified ice cream covered by that teetering shard of chocolate shell fall into my lap/on my face...oh, I know, I'll just stick the whole thing in my mouth." After that, I was just a 24-year-old girl ("girl," because I have yet to reach the maturity level of "woman") with a naked saliva-infused popsicle stick.

I didn't grow up eating vanilla and almond bars, so I don't know where the craving came from. Maybe one of you can tell me. But I can't think of any other frozen novelty I'd rather have. Except maybe a chocolate-covered ice cream bar shaped like Mickey's head. That choice is purely based on nostalgia. (Sometimes I feel the urge to try a King Cone again, but I'm pretty sure the experience would crush my childhood memories, like the Choco Taco had done. I'll have to appease my curiosity at some point, though)

* The better the friend I'm around, the less likely I'm able to recognize how annoying I am to the general public, by way of speaking too loudly, making random noises not found in 99% of most people's conversations, and saying "poop" excessively. That's as uninhibited as I'm willing to get. Sorry friends, and general public.

Back to Bahia, Where Pupusas Are Still Awesome (Duh)

2009-12-19T16:58:00Z

This post originally took place on December 4. So chronologically-out-of-order, I am.

: Rays of fried yuca. Mm hm.

What's good: corn flour pancakes stuffed with cheese and meat, griddled to a slight crispiness. What's not good: that I failed to visit Bahia for nearly two years to obtain said cheesy meaty corn pockets. What makes it more inexcusable is that for six of those months, I lived fairly close to Bahia in South Williamsburg, yet never made it over there. Where are my priorities? Why am I wasting precious stomach acids on less worthy foods? My list of failures continues to grow.

The above photo is not of pupusas, but I'm starting with it since it was the most visually appealing: a mound of fried pork chunks emanating rays of fried yuca sticks, topped with pickled red onions and some lime wedges. The pork wasn't the most succulent, but it wasn't bad—hell, it's FRIED PORK. And if you don't know what fried yuca tastes like, I see it as a heartier version of french fries. Eat this by yourself for an Insta-Food-Coma. Luckily, I had Lee Anne and Scott to help me out.

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Pupusa pile up.

We shared four pupusas: revueltas (pork, refried beans, and cheese), pollo con queso (chicken and cheese), queso con ayote (cheese and zucchini), and jalapeño con queso (jalapeño and cheese). Revueltas is my favorite, but basically anything with cheese in it makes me happy. They offer pupusas without cheese in them (just pork, refried beans, or chicken), but why would you do that when you can have...

: OOZE.

ALL THIS GOO? Jalapeño-dotted goo, in this instance. You want the goo. Trust me.

Although pupusas fare well on their own, it's the accompanying curtido that completes the pupusa-eating experience. Crunchy strands of cabbage and carrots with every cheesy bite = win.

: Ooh plop.

We also tried the tamal de pollo (chicken tamale), a steamed log-o-corny dough with a core of moist chicken and cheese. I found the texture too uniformly soft for my liking, even though the flavor was fine. (Also, I can't help but compare any steamed leaf-wrapped meat-in-carb to a zongzi, which I love partially because of its sticky, slightly chewy texture.)

: Desserts.

We shared slices of cheesecake and chocolate mousse cake for dessert. Being on the verge of food coma, I didn't eat much of either, but Lee Anne and Scott liked them.

: In my belly.

I satiated my sweet tooth throughout the meal by downing a glass of horchata. Methinks it has a nuttier flavor than other horchatas I've had, in a good way. Perhaps all that brownness has something to do with it.

Address

Bahia
690 Grand Street, Brooklyn, NY 11211 (map)
718-218-9592

Brighton Beach and Beyond, Part 2: Carrot Cake, Durian, and Pupusas
Last Weekend: Part 2: Pupusas, Dumplings, Jumping, Tea, and Breakfast

Anyone Want to Eat at Per Se on December 26?

2009-12-17T21:44:00Z

I'm not going to Per Se, but fellow blog reader Julie is!...maybe. Only problem is that she made a reservation for four and she needs two more eaters in order to keep the reservation. The tasting menu starts at $275 so yup, it's a splurge. A once-in-a-lifetime splurge, for most of us. I declined her invitation (although I'd be interested in going someday), but if you're interested and free on December 26 at 5:45 p.m., email Julie at jkoza@sas.upenn.edu.

Two Chicken Meals: Momofuku Fried Chicken and Pio Pio Salon

2009-12-16T05:32:55Z

: FRIED CHICKEN MOUNTAIN.

As much as I enjoy the dishes forged by the hands of the Momofuku empire, I don't like them enough to make a reservation for any of their special offerings. (Except for the bo ssam, which I've...er, had a few times before the online reservation system was in place.) But I will happily ride on the coattails of someone else's effort.

To make the most of his trip to New York City, Lee Anne's Arizonian food-loving friend Jason made reservations for Momofuku's fried chicken at Noodle Bar two Saturdays ago. He nicely extended the invitation to Lee Anne's friends. Including me. HELL YEAH, I was in. I had tried it once before on the company dime, but it's worth having more than once. Like twice. You can reserve the fried chicken with a party of four to eight; I suggest aiming for six or more unless you don't mind having a lot of leftovers. You don't want this chicken to go to waste.

For $100, you get a big honkin' mountain of chicken fried two ways—Southern style in a buttermilk batter, and triple-fried Korean style coated in a sweet and spicy sauce—four dipping sauces (hoisin, ginger-scallion, jalapeño-garlic, and gochujang-based), another big honkin bowl filled with vegetable matter, and a stack of mu shu pancakes. $100 may sound like a lot, but for up to eight people, that's as low as $12.50. For the six of us, it was $16.67 a person. Non-New Yorkers could think, "Man, you're dumb for paying so much for fried chicken," but to me it's really not that bad when compared to the prices of other fancy pants fried chicken in the city and for the quality you get. I don't think any other place is going to give you two kinds of awesome fried chicken with such a unique variety of accompanying sauces and vegetables.

]]> Both times I've had the chicken, most people preferred the Korean over the Southern. There's nothing wrong with the Southern—it's super crunchy and the meat is juicy and tender—but the crust on the Korean is lighter and crispier. I also prefer the spicy sauce over the Old Bay-ed Southern.

: VEG!

The fried chicken alone doesn't make this meal awesome. It's the accompanying raw vegetable-and-herbs bowl that I really love. If I really want fried chicken, I can get a good version elsewhere, reservations-free. If I want a bowl of seemingly perfect baby carrots, red ball radishes, bibb lettuce, stalks of mint and basil, and...that tree-like one in the back that I can't identify (although one of you probably can), I'd have to compose that myself. And I'm probably not going to, because I'm not going to seek out those ingredients, even though when thoughtfully combined and plopped in front of me I scarf them down like potato chips. It's more than just crudités or a plate of herbs like you'd get at a Vietnamese restaurant. Or maybe I am so far removed from fresh vegetables that seeing a vibrant pile of them automatically makes me go, "OMG YAY!"—but I'd like to believe there's more to it than that.

: Sauces.

Methinks the idea of the fried chicken meal is to combined the meat with the herbs and sauces and roll it up in the lettuce leaves or the pancakes. It's a messy ordeal. I mostly ate the chicken off the bone instead of trying to pry it off with my fingers or utensils, sometimes plopping sauce right onto the chicken (which didn't work well with the less viscous sauces) or alternating mouthfuls of chicken with herbs.

The pancakes are unfortunately craptacular; after being exposed to room temperature air for more than five seconds, they become much too chewy and stiff to provide any sort of harmonious starchy component to the chicken. They should replace it with rice, which I'm sure you could ask for, but the idea didn't cross our minds. It wouldn't just be awesome for the chicken; you could also douse the rice in the sauces that would otherwise go to waste. RICE WOULD MAKE THINGS SO MUCH BETTER. I LOVE RICE SO MUCH. (I feel like my love of rice is one of my most Chinese characteristics. ...That, and having the facial structure of a Chinese person. That's all I've got.)

But it's still good without the rice.

I don't know how this fried chicken compares to the real deal, never having eaten fried chicken in the South, but Momofuku's should leave you happy. And now you have an excuse to gather seven of your meat-loving friends and have a fried chicken party.

Rotisserie Chicken at Pio Pio Salon

: Pio Pio Salon.

The next day, I went to Pio Pio Salon (they have an official website, but I'd rather spare you from its auto-playing music wrath) on the Upper West Side with Jessica and Kathy after Kathy and I had watched Jessica perform with a chamber orchestra at Alice Tully Hall. (She is a mega talented violinist. I suggest you see her perform and then have your mind BLOWN AWAY, leaving behind a shell of incompetence.) I had one thing on my mind: rotisserie chicken. With fries. And hot dogs. And avocado. And more.

: HOOYEAH.

So that's actually more like "a bunch of things" and not just one thing, but it's all under the heading of Matador Combo. The last (and only) time I had eaten at Pio Pio Salon was over two years ago, and ever since then I've wanted to go back for the combo of a quartered rotisserie chicken, rice and beans, tostones, salchipapas, and avocado salad. All of this only costs $32, a bit more than in 2007 when it was $26, but still a great deal for four people's worth of food.

: Chicken!

No complaints about the rotisserie chicken—it's juicy, tender, and well seasoned. Carbony skin bits make it even better.

: Avocado salad.

But before I dug into the chicken, I went for a big chunk of avocado. So creamy. So fatty. So good. It was the first substantial thing I had eaten the entire day. My body needed the hit of something fresh and healthy.

: Hot dogs and fries go together like processed meat log and potato stick.

...Especially since nothing else at the meal would exude as much freshness or nutrient-density. But it did all scream DELICIOUS STARCHINESS, such as the plate of salchipapas, hot dog nubs on a bed of french fries.

: FRIED!

And the tostones, deep fried, flattened slices of green plantain, with some face-punching garlic sauce on the side.

: Rice and beans.

And rice and beans. That's self explanatory, methinks.

: Aji auce.

If anything is lacking flavor, you can just douse it in aji sauce flavored with...I don't know what, to be honest, but I assume there's mayo, jalapenos, and garlic in there. And other stuff. It's creamy and savory, and makes everything taste better.

: FLAN!

We ended our meal with flan, one of my favorite members of the dessert family. Thanks, flan, for being jiggly, eggy, rich (although not too dense), smooth, and sweet.

Addresses

Momofuku Noodle Bar
171 1 Avenue, New York, NY 10003 (map)
212-777-7773

Pio Pio Salon
702 Amsterdam Avenue, New York, NY 10025 (map)
212-665-3000

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