The Girl Who Ate Everything

Chocolate Chip Cookies: One to Make, One to Buy

2010-03-06T20:25:00Z

: Freshly baked cookies! AIEEE! They look sort of flat, but I swear they were good.

Last Saturday I made chocolate chip cookies using the Ad Hoc recipe to bring to Dahlia's birthday party. As I'm not exactly a maven in the kitchen, I generally only bake cookies (or make any sort of dessert) for special occasions, not for the purpose of fulfilling my incessant craving for chocolate chip cookies. When I'm awake, I want cookies. When I'm asleep, I want cookies. When I'm dead my disembodied soul will want cookies. (That gives me an idea for a picture book: Robyn Wants Cookies. Each page would be me in a different situation thinking about cookies. "In the deepest part of the ocean, Robyn wants cookies / In the eye of a tornado, Robyn wants cookies / In a town made of Jell-O, Robyn munches on a cherry-favored lamp post, and still wants cookies.")

Incessant. Yes. Chocolate chip cookies are my favorite dessert. Even more so than macarons. A warm chocolate chip cookie out of the oven, with the gooey chocolate bits, crispiness around the edge, and barely cooked middle, is...everything that is good in the world of cookies. Luckily, they're super easy to make and hard to mess up, if my experience is any indication.

]]> The Ad Hoc recipe gave me just what I wanted. Gooey chocolate chunks, crispy rim, and a soft middle in a nicely sized cookie package. Over the course of the day, I ate maybe...eight of them. Or seven. Mostly at Dahlia's party. When you lose count, that's probably too many. Chichi and Colin were at my apartment while I was baking them, so they helped me eat a few.

I did a few things differently from the recipe. First, I didn't sift the flour and baking soda, nor did I remove the chocolate "dust." Granted, that's because I'm sort of...lazy, but also because Chichi told me I didn't need to sift for such a small batch. And I think she was right; after whisking the flour and baking soda together the baking soda distributed fine, and I didn't miss any leavening that the sifting would've contributed. I attempted to strain out the chocolate dust, but it didn't work so I figured it wouldn't impact deliciousness much, just the cookie's appearance.

What I should've done differently was use softened butter instead of cold butter like the recipe says. The recipe assumes you have a stand mixer. Which I don't. Chichi told me that cold butter may be okay in a stand mixer, but it doesn't really work with a hand mixer with beaters, as I discovered when I had to turn off my mixer and poke hard butter bits out of the beaters every five seconds. Unsmart. I eventually managed to mash the butter into submission and successfully cream it with the sugar, but it probably took longer than it was supposed to.

Speaking of different butter temperatures in chocolate chip cookies, I've also made them using melted butter in this recipe from America's Test Kitchen with good results. I'm sure someone more knowledgeable about baking could explain the different results you get from making cookies with butters at different temperatures. I understand using cold butter chunklets in pastry crusts and biscuits, but that's about it.

Although I used to use this recipe as my default chocolate chip cookie recipe for years, I'm going to stick with the Ad Hoc one from now on.

: COOKIES!

But what if I want a cookie without being drugged by the potent scent of 30 cookies cooling in the kitchen? I'd go to Roasting Plant in the West Village. I took Los Angeles food blogger Javier there a few weeks ago after we ate lunch at Taim since we at Serious Eats had voted their chocolate chip cookie the best in the city.

Roasting Plant doesn't make them from scratch—the dough is from wholesale Tom Cat Bakery—but they bake them fresh. (This means you may have to wait a while for cookies if they sold out of their latest batch.) The result is a craggly cookie that has an airy crispiness on the outside, and is soft, gooey, and a little chewy on the well-chocolated inside. And it's a thin cookie, not one of those hock puck-sized things (not that those can't also be good, as I am a fan of Levain's behemoths; they're just unreasonably large for any normal-sized human being). It's like the smashed burger of cookies.

Address

Roasting Plant
75 Greenwich Ave, New York, NY 10014 (map)
212-775-7755; roastingplant.com

Another Look at Village Tart, and Random Stuff About Tipping

2010-03-06T04:55:00Z

Warning: Lots of words in this one. Sort of boring. No interesting photos. If you're new to this blog, you should probably scroll down the index page and look at something else.

I've been thinking about this topic for days. And here I finally am. Because...

I REACHED SEASON SIX OF LOST! Last night. Around 4 a.m. Which in the scope of human accomplishments is about on par with managing to break the vacuum seal of a stubborn jar lid. Just think about all those hours, poured into a show that makes little sense...[single tear rolls down cheek]...but in my mind, that's part of the fun of watching it. At least I know the end is near. I would've gotten frustrated with it a long time ago if I had tried to watch it from the first day it aired.

So. Back to food. Ish. Related things.

: Figuring out the tip. Wooooeee. [This photo was taken at Veselka.]

You may have noticed that I rarely talk about the service I receive when I eat out. This is a combination of having low standards and luckily rarely encountering bad service. As Al said at lunch last weekend, I'd probably have to get stabbed by a waiter to think, "Man, that service was sort of subpar. And gosh, look at this mess I'm making, spurting blood all over the floor. I should clean this up. Oh nevermind, I just fainted."

For as far back as I can remember (circa 2004; my mental cogs aren't in the best condition), I could count the memorably crappy restaurant experiences independent of food quality on one hand. I usually tip around 20% no matter what service I get when I eat in New York City. Methinks this practice came from regularly reading Waiter Rant and books by Anthony Bourdain, except they would probably tell me to tip more for exemplary service, and I rarely do that, nor do I tip less for just okay service. My tipping practices are on autopilot. Ideally I'd be a more generous tipper when the situation calls for it, but hopefully I'm fair.

]]> What I left out of my recent post about Village Tart was that the service was iffy. Out waiter was super attentive—perhaps overly so—for most of our stay, until the very end when we wanted our check. That part took seemingly forever. I think we ended up asking another waiter for it. The place was much busier when we left than when we got in, but still; it's not a big place, and bringing a check shouldn't take more than 15 minutes, right?

But I'm so used to waiting for stuff that it didn't stick out in my mind as crappy service. "People forget stuff; whatever. Not like he stabbed me in the chest." Maybe I'm too laid back.

Back to the "super attentive" part. This was another, "This is sort of annoying, but whatever," thing for me. The waiter came to our table more times than average to ask if we wanted anything. We probably looked like we wanted something else, seeing as all we started off with was a tart and two pots of tea and we held on to a menu. But how many times does it take for the question, "Would you like anything else?" to turn from "attentive" to "holy jebus, stop being pushy"? I don't know; I didn't count. At some point we did order something else: the disappointing $9 arugula salad that I mentioned in my previous post. Hooray. Fail.

Maybe it was the question "Would you like anything else?" that was annoying, the underlying message (whether intended or not) being, "You should order something." This past Monday I ate at Rub BBQ with Greg and we were asked by at least three different employees how we were doing while eating dinner. That didn't feel annoying; it just felt like we were being taken cared of. (The waitstaff at Rub are nice. And I love their burgers.) But it's not like we would've wanted any more food considering Greg had a Flinstones-sized beef rib and I had a burger and fries.

: Bill.

I don't remember how much we tipped on the final bill at Village Tart, but safe to say, less than 20%. My friend paid with her credit card and we left the tip in cash. Unfortunately, she found out that they charged an extra $3 to her card. Ruh-roh. (That's "uh oh" said in Scooby voice. Why? I dunno.) In all my years of eating out and paying by credit card, that has never happened to me. Could it be chalked up to human error? Sure; humans make mistakes. But the other explanation is someone wanted a bigger tip and didn't think she would notice. (She called the restaurant and got her $3 back.)

I always lean towards giving the benefit of the doubt, but no matter the reason for the error, make sure to save and check your receipts, if you don't already.

So that's the full recount of our Village Tart experience. Maybe I should've written that in my last post (although I didn't know about the extra $3 charge until after I wrote it), but I'd much rather focus on food unless there's some terribly shitty service going on.

I've been thinking more about tipping practices since reading David Sax's curmudgeonly New York Times article "Hey, Waiter! Just How Much Extra Do You Really Expect?" and Waiter Rant's response. Two very different looks at tipping, of course, with lots in between if you read the comments. I don't feel like delving into their posts; I just wanted to point it out in case you were interested in reading way more about tipping than you may have thought about before. You should probably do something else though since it's a Friday night.

And after reading all that...I honestly still don't know what to think. And I don't really feel like talking about it anymore since I used up my Friday night writing this rambling post when I should've been shoving food porny photos in your face (next post!!!). I've never been a waitress, nor do I ever want to be one after hearing about how much it potentially blows. I preferred the system in France where the tip was usually included in the bill and you could leave a few Euros behind if you really wanted. Here, I'll probably continue with my fixed 20%. Until I get stabbed.

New Yorkers, Help Me Find Some Shoes? (Not Food Related)

2010-03-06T04:50:00Z

UPDATE (3/9): Just bought these shoes on Etsy! I'm pretty sure my feet are too wide for them, but I'll let you know what happens. Thanks for your help!

Sorry for the non-food-related post, but this is the easiest way for me to reach a buttload of people at once. THANK YOU FOR READING! For without you, I am nothiiiiinnggg.

First off, I'm not a big fan of shoes. Most of them don't fit me well because my feet are wider than average, and although I primarily buy shoes for comfort, not fashion (no high heels, please), I don't want shoes that, while comfortable, look like crap. My shoe collection consists of sneakers from Camper (my most oft-worn shoes), flip flops I bought at a Gap outlet mall over three years ago, Birkenstocks from three years ago, red flats from Camper that don't fit well because I should've bought a 38 instead of a 37 (although even if I got a 38, I suspect they would still be too tight), black flats from Clarks that are thankfully comfortable that I bought...I don't know how long ago, super warm fuzzy boots that are great when it's super cold and were adequate for walking in the snow until one of the soles wore away, and yellow flats made of plastic that I bought last summer for fun but are impractical because my feet are just a smidge too wide for them.

Fun, semi-formal shoes just don't work for me. And I'm okay with that because there are very few I'd ever want.

EXCEPT! In an instance of super rare desires, for some reason I really want this one pair of boots (or booties, rather; photos after this paragraph) in a specific design, and I feel like they must exist in my size. Whether or not they would be comfortable, I don't know...because I haven't found them yet. I randomly passed a vintage store last week that had the boots I pictured in my mind, but they were a size 7 and I'm a 7.5 to 8.

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Omg. Shoez. Thanks to Diana for taking the photos.

Simple white booties with just a little heel, and with that...uh...flappy bit that looks like a collar. There's probably a better term than "flappy bit."

I figure most of you are more fashion-minded than I am, and some of you live in New York City and know the shoe-scape better than I do. I haven't really looked around for these shoes; I don't know where I'd start. But if you think, "Oh, I know where to get something like that in NYC," after looking at the photos above, please let me know. Thanks! (I haven't searched much online, but even if I found them I wouldn't buy them since I need to visit a store to try them on.)

88 Palace, Village Tart, Galanga, and L'Arte del Gelato, aka 'Last Sunday'

2010-02-28T08:45:50Z

: The oh so palatial 88 Palace.

If left to my natural sleep cycle, I could sleep until 1 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon without a problem. (Sleep is the best. I know there's that saying, "I'll sleep when I'm dead," but dude, I want to sleep now because it feels awesome. Not sleeping will just shorten my lifespan, or make me go insane.) But if Adelyn hadn't made me haul my lumpy self out of bed at 10 a.m. last Sunday to meet up at 88 Palace for dim sum, I would've wasted a great deal of what ended up being a funner-than-average Sunday. So. Sometimes waking up before noon can be a good thing.

Our plan was to grab dim sum with Diana and a few of Adelyn's friends before checking out the Chinese New Year parade on Mott Street. Unfortunately, Diana fell sick the night before and didn't feel up to a dim sum lunch, and most of Adelyn's friends were only half-conscious by the time we were sitting at 88 Palace. Dim sum is best eaten by large groups—extended Chinese families and the like—definitely not by a party of two considering that many dishes come with three or more pieces. Luckily, Adelyn's friend Omar eventually showed up to help us eat. A rundown of the dishes:

: Pork buns.

Roast pork steamed buns: Super soft, fluffy steamed bread filled with sweet, fatty roast pork chunks. Although it's not a favorite of mine, it feels like one of those dim sum staples you have to get.

]]>

Lotus seed buns.

Lotus seed paste steamed buns: These buns were unfortunately not as awesomely soft and fluffy as the steamed pork buns—I prefer when the bun just melts into the filling. But I did like the ample blop of sweet filling.

: Rice noodle rolls.

Rice noodle rolls with shrimp: Oh yessss, my beloved rice noodle roll. The rolls were smaller than average, but the shrimps were quite large and plump.

: Fried taro.

Taro puff: There's probably a better name for these lumps of mashed taro mixed with (methinks) pork bits, breaded in a light, lacy batter and deep fried. It's sort of like a potato croquette...but with taro. I don't know how to describe taro to people who've never had it before—slightly sweet than a regular potato? But not as sweet as a sweet potato? Purple? Denser? Somethin-somethin?

: Siu mai.

Siu mai: These pork, shrimp, and mushroom dumplings were...okay. Admittedly, not being much of a fan of siu mai, I'm probably not the best judge.

: Chinese broccoli.

Gai-lan (Chinese broccoli): Because in the face of meaty dumplings, you could use a vegetable. (These may have been topped with some sort of seasoned chopped meat stuff, though—see the little brown bits on top? Whatever it was, it tasted meaty and umami-filled.) I like the combination of crunchy stems and soft leaves.

: Custard buns.

Custard-filled steamed buns: Ahhh, more sweet bun goodness. Unlike the lotus seed buns, the bread in these was soft and fluffy and seamlessly gave way to the custard center. I prefer my custard oozing, but non-oozing tastes good too.

: Egg custard tarts.

Mini egg custard tarts: One of my most favorite things to eat in the whole world, dim sum or otherwise. These bite-sized tarts had a light flaky crust filled with soft, eggy custard. I love you, egg custard tart...I love youuuu...

The Chinese New Year Parade

: Parade time.

After dim sum, we met up with two of Adelyn's friends and a recovered Diana to check out the Chinese New Year parade on Mott Street. Out of my six-ish years of living in New York City, It was the first time I actively tried to go. And now that I've gone once, I'm alright with never going again. Admittedly, the crappy view behind two rows of people probably didn't help.

: Confetti time.

The most exciting thing about the parade is the confetti—there's shittons of it. People were constantly setting off confetti canons, thus unleashing plumes of colorful paper bits and gold sparkles to rain upon the sidewalks and buildings and anything else that was in the way. (You can buy confetti canons in Chinatown for personal use, such as to blast in the face of a birthday girl.)

: Dumpling head.

Most of the floats were immemorable. Of course, corporate sponsorship is to be expected, but a trolley with no obvious affiliation covered in orange balloons transporting just one dude waving through tinted windows to the crowd doesn't say "HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR" to me. (I didn't take a photo; you'll have to use your imagination.) I guess it's better than nothing though. This dumpling-headed dude was rather cute.

: Census 2010

But the best had to be the Census 2010 float with the megaphone-bearing woman shouting instructions on how to fill out the census. That's just not something you expect.

: Dragon dude.

And there were shiny golden dragons every so often. YEAH, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. Give me more of those.

Village Tart

: Village Tart

After Adelyn, Diana, and I broke off from the rest of the group to kill time before going to the IFC Center to watch the Academy Award-nominated animated shorts (still playing today, Monday, and Tuesday if you're interested), our rambling brought us to Village Tart, a newish bakery/cafe associated with Pichet Ong. It's a cute, cozy place with a European feel, for lack of a better description.

: Tarte tatin.

I got the apple tarte tatin ($4.95), an upside-down apple tart that first landed on my "favorite desserts" list when I studied in Paris. This version didn't ooze with caramelized apple goodness, but it was still enjoyable. The pastry was buttery and flaky, and the round of thinly sliced apple was tender without being mushy. Alas, nothing will ever come close to the best tarte tatin I've had (so far) from Ladurée. All tarte tatins probably taste better in Paris, though.

: Mothufuggin arugula.

We were having a good time drinking tea and chatting until we ordered the arugula salad. As I can't find a description of the dish online and I foolishly forgot to take a photo of the menu, you'll have to deal with my crappy description: It was mixed with bits of Meyer lemon rind that were probably sweetened and cooked in some way and lightly dressed in a vinaigrette...and sprinkled with something else. I'd remember more if it left a greater impression. The main impression it left on us was, "This is so not worth $9." It made me want to go to Diner so I could get an amazing salad for $10. This salad didn't taste bad—I really liked the Meyer lemon bits—but it was comically small, needed more Meyer lemon, and didn't have much going for it.

Am I being too harsh? I was actually thinking of doing a post about salads a while back—when they're worth it, and when they're not—but I don't eat enough salads to say much about the subject. I generally avoid them because I'm afraid they won't be worth it, a sentiment that Village Tart reinforced.

Oh well. It's called Village Tart, after all—may as well stick to the tarts.

: Mon Fung? My Fung?

As a random aside, this store on Grand Street amused me because I read it as "My Fung." And then I imagined a "fung" being some sort of fuzzy creature that I could carry everywhere and WOULD BE MY FRIEND FOREVER, like MY BUDDY, and we would go on all kinds of adventures...just me and my fung.

I wonder if anyone else thinks the same thing. Probably not.

West Village-Ing

: A bar of some sort!

Gloria met up with us at the IFC Center just after getting out of work at The Local Store, a bakery/coffee shop in Midtown East. You know what that means: FREE PASTRIES. Ever the thoughtful friend, she came bearing two boxes of goodies. The first thing we tried was this bar stuffed with all kinds of tasty bits: chocolate chunks, chopped pecans, dried cranberries, sweet goo. I'll ask Gloria for more details. It was one of those "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts" thing.

: Fried egg, YES.

After we finished watching the animated shorts (my favorite was Granny O'Grimm's Sleeping Beauty), we ate at Galanga for dinner, as I recalled that Kathy liked it and they made one of my favorite dishes just the way I liked it. I'm talking about gai pad krapow ($9.50, written on the menu at Krapow Kai Khai Dow; if I knew Thai, I'd tell you what that means), minced chicken stir fried with sliced peppers and onions, garlic, fish sauce, basil, and chile peppers so every bite is filled with fragrant basil and tear-inducing hotness (warning: Galanga does not skimp on the spiciness). The pièce de résistance is the accompanying fried egg featuring a runny yolk and a slightly frilly, crispy edge. I've been to restaurants that didn't mince the meat nor include and egg, my reaction to which is a pained internal, "NOO WHAT THE FUUUCK sob." Admittedly, I'm not that familiar with Thai food and I've never been to Thailand, but I feel like Galaga's version is the way it should be.

: Gelato!

I eased my slightly singed mouth with gelato at my favorite gelateria in the city, L'Arte del Gelato. Gloria and Diana got their own cups, but Adelyn and I were so stuffed that we opted to share a small. That's our idea of eating moderately. Yup. In the absence of my favorite flavor, pistachio, we went with hazelnut and banana, both of which fared quite awesomely. The hazelnut is just a smidge sweeter than I prefer, but still leaves you with the mellow nutty flavor of toasted hazelnuts. The banana tastes like...banana, deluxe. A dumb thing to marvel at, perhaps, but in other popular banana desserts, namely banana pudding and banana cream pie, banana plays a supporting role to pudding and crust. In gelato form, the banana is enhanced, but not eclipsed by the added milk and sugar. And I like that. (I also like banana pudding and banana cream pie.)

And then I waddled to the subway station and rode home with my uncomfortably distended, pants-stretching belly for about half an hour. As I'm wont to do. Sigh.

I'll have to start an exercise regimen soon. But as I've been saying that for years, methinks it won't happen until I think I'll drop dead without it.

PS: Yup, I'm posting this at 4 a.m.-ish. Nope, I didn't watch any Lost tonight. (But I did check out a bunch of figure skating videos from the Olympics. If you haven't watched Kim Yu-Na yet, then holy poot, get the fug away from here and check it out.)

Addresses

88 Palace
88 E Broadway, New York, NY 10002 (map)
212-941-8886

Village Tart
86 Kenmare Street, New York, NY 10012 (map)
212-226-4980

Galanga
149 West 4th Street, New York, NY 10012 (map)
212-228-4267

L'Arte del Gelato
75 7th Avenue South, New York, NY 10014 (map)
212-924-0803

Kåre Week, Day 4: Dim Sum, Random Art, and Arepas
Home Cooking Edition: Moo Pad Krapow, Moffles, and Something Vegan
88 Palace, gelatolicious, and har har, Japanese stuff!

The Island of Taiwan Restaurant in Dyker Hights / Bay Ridge / Whatever That Neighborhood Is

2010-02-23T05:28:47Z

Before I talk about food, I have a warning to give. If you haven't watched Lost but think now would be a good time to catch up since it's in its last season and every episode is on Hulu, I say NO, DON'T DO THIS, or your blog posting schedule will be reduced to once per week, and you may spent a few nights staying up until 3 a.m. watching back-to-back episodes, and since you're going to bed right after watching the show you might have some weird dreams involving being stranded on an island and being tortured by crazy people and things like that.

Admittedly, I like that I finally understand what my Lost-watching friends have been talking about all these years, but it comes at a price. I'm pretty much sleepy all the time, and considering it's nearly 1:30 a.m., I'm going to try to blaze through this entry so I can go to bed before 3 a.m. The food porn is the most engaging part anyway, right? That "prose" stuff just gets in the way.

But before you waggle your finger at me (as much as I deserve it), let me just say that I didn't watch any Lost this weekend; I just happened to be busy during pretty much all my waking hours. Not that I was doing anything crazy—ye know, mostly eating. I just finished season 4 of Lost and I don't want to watch any more episodes until I pump out more posts. BLOG FIRST, LOST LATER.

OKAY I CAN DO THIS...here's a post about a meal I ate three weeks ago.

: Orange and fluorescent green, together at last.

When I lived in Taipei from 1996 to 1998, I was an ignorant, America-loving tweenage lump of chubb who ignored the local Taiwanese cuisine, instead opting to grab seemingly half of my sustenance at the McDonald's around the corner from my apartment where no Chinese-speaking skills were needed. I almost always ordered the same thing—a McChicken Sandwich Value Meal and a Filet-O-Fish sandwich (don't ask me how I managed to eat that much food; maybe the intense humidity made me sweat out the calories)—but I could've eaten so much better! If only I knew! If onlyyyy! Oh how I rattle my fists in anger.

Thankfully, living in New York City affords me the opportunity to grasp at the meager strings that connect me to my heritage through the magic of food. So, with the help of my friend and former Taipei American School classmate Jamie and four of her friends, I got to stuff myself at The Island of Taiwan Restaurant in Brooklyn (upon Danny's recommendation) with some dishes I probably never ate in Taiwan.

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Oysters inside.

Oyster pancake ($5.99): It's more of an omelet than a pancake, except the omelet is made of egg mixed with some starch instead of just straight-up egg, then stuffed with oysters. Lots of oysters. You'll get a squishy briny nub in every bite. If you like oysters and omelets, this dish is for you; if you're like me and sort of indifferent to oysters, this isn't going to change your mind. (Should I add "never having developed a taste for oysters" onto the list of reasons for why I fail at being Taiwanese?)

: Mm, fried.

Fried oysters ($7.99): Of course, everything tastes good fried. This is so far my favorite oyster preparation: lightly battered (in panko, I'd guess) and dunked in hot oil. It's mostly tender oyster with just a bit of crunch. I don't like it when fried oysters are covered in a thick batter.

: Noodles.

Spicy beef noodle soup ($5.99): Beef noodle soup is one of the few dishes I remember eating sort of frequently in Taipei. It made me happy, except when I got too many pieces of tendon in my bowl. I'm not sure I even knew it was tendon; I just called it "the clear, jiggly bits I don't like." (UPDATE: I like tendon now, depending on how it's prepared.) As this bowl wasn't full of clear, jiggly bits, I was quite happy with it.

: FRIED!!

Salted crispy chicken ($6.99): DING DING-A-LING, this was my favorite dish of the meal. Because I like fried things, especially the chicken-based ones. By this point, I don't really remember why I liked it so much, but methinks it must have fulfilled the "salted" and "crispy" parts of its name. And the fried garlic bits didn't hurt.

: Mm, organs.

Crispy pig intestine ($6.99): The texture was pleasant—a little chewy with a thin layer of crispiness—but it had a twinge of that not-so-pleasant feral flavor that reminded you, "Yup, that's some bowels you're eating there." The green onion in the center of the intestine helped mute the flavor though. Maybe. I liked eating it once; not sure I'd have to eat it again.

: Lamb.

Cumin lamb ($12.99): Tender, gamy lamb chunks with cumin. It's a good combo.

: Pea shoots!

Sauteed snow pea shoots with garlic ($9.99): Because we needed a vegetable and pea shoots are the best. For a good pea shoots primer, read Chichi's post about how to cook them. I love pea shoots because they're tender with just a bit of crunch (assuming you don't cook them to death) and have this fresh, slightly sweet flavor that reminds me of...well, peas. Although they taste great with garlic—a common preparation in Chinese restaurants—as Chichi says in her post, they're so flavorful they don't need garlic.

: Cups x 3!

Three Cup Chicken ($10.99): The "Three Cup" name comes from the three cups of sauce the chicken is cooked with: soy sauce, rice wine, and sesame oil. The result is moist, flavorful chicken nubs further enhanced by being cooked with basil. Although this is a popular dish in Taiwan, I don't remember ever eating it. (Maybe I should ask my mom.)

: Sausage bits.

Grilled Taiwanese sausage ($4.99): Your regular sweet and fatty Chinese pork sausage (or as I like to call it, "MY FAVORITE SAUSAGE, OH MAN, this is the best"). Good stuff, although not something you have to order in a restaurant.

[Note: It's now 2:45 a.m. This means it's sleepy time and that I'll have to proofread this later.]

[Note: And I'm back! It's 11:45 p.m. Jebus. Although I know going to bed at 2 a.m. and later isn't healthy, I don't know how people can get to bed so much earlier. To give you an idea of my day, I woke up at 9 a.m., left for work at 9:30 a.m., stayed at work until around 7:10 p.m., went to dinner with some coworkers, got home a little after 10 p.m., checked email and twitter, wrote some emails, checked a few work-related items, took a shower and brushed my teeth, checked more email and surfed the Internet a bit, and finally, HERE I AM to resume blogging. On the bright side, I will probably go to bed before 2 a.m. tonight.]

We were all set on having baobing (romanized as "bow bin" on the menu), aka shaved ice topped with various sweet goos, for dessert. But they didn't have it. Not sure if that meant they didn't have ice or their shaver wasn't working, but that was just one of a few dishes we tried to order that was unavailable (I forget what the others were). We had been looking forward to it for the whole meal. :( ! I guess I'd call in advance next time to see if they have it; I'd hate to trek out there just to find out they didn't have any ice to shave.

So aside from the lack of dessert, we had a great meal. I intend on going back sometime with a new set of eaters. Nicholas will make sure that I get the stinky tofu.

BONUS SHIZZ

: Wut.

I have an unofficial photography project called "Take Photos of Those Weird Kiddie Rides Featuring Limbless Long-Necked Creatures with Clown Noses." (Someday I hope to meet the person who came up with the original design and ask, "Why? Whyyyy?") This is the latest one found outside a convenience store near the restaurant. Here are previous findings:

: Pink!

In Flushing.

: Pink!..a.dn veiny?

In Bensonhurst.

If you know of others in the city I should photograph, let me know!

Address

6817 8th Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11220 (map)
718-680-0033

Dim Sum at East Harbor Seafood Palace in Sunset Park
Two Days of Flushing Fooding In One Huge-Ass Post
Another Flushing Food Tour: Dumplings, Crab, Shaved Ice, Stinky Tofu, Etc.

Ramen Goodness at Setagaya and Ippudo

2010-02-15T17:07:52Z

: Mm. Ramen.

"Man, ramen's good."

[slurp]

"Damn, I like ramen."

[chew chew]

"Why don't I eat ramen more often?"

[slurp chew]

"Mmm. ...Crap I can't breathe, I better swallow."

Aaaaand that's what it sounds like in my head. I estimate that my brain is 95% Jell-O-like goo made of underachieving neurons where profundity is unable to thrive. (But that last 5%? Oh man, it's like a party with beach balls and a motherfuggin' cotton candy machine!!!)

So, back to the internal dialogue. While eating my bowl of black sesame miso ramen ($10.50) at Ramen Setagaya last Thursday, I had this atypical revelation of, "Man, [insert type of dish I'm eating] is really tasty. Yeah!" Usually, I eat contently, not blown away nor disappointed by what I'm eating (and more than usually, I insufficiently chew too much food far too quickly, the result being odoriferous burps for the rest of the day that I will announce to whomever is unfortunately within my zone of vocal reach). But this time I was like, "This ramen is so hitting some sort of spot that only springy noodles in an umami-laden broth can hit."

]]>

NOODLES.

I didn't taste much of the black sesame goo that was plopped on the central mound of bean sprouts; I mostly tasted the miso and a surprising hit of throat tingling spiciness from the red chili flakes. It probably would have tingled/burned less if I hadn't sucked the soup straight down my throat. I was shooting back the ramen even more quickly and uncouth than usual because, due to half of my bottom lip being swollen and sore from an infected cold sore that I spent the whole week recovering from (more on that later), I didn't have full mobility of my mouth. Unless I wanted to dribble food all over the place or have it dangle from my mouth like a baby learning how to feed itself, I had to shovel it down quickly. At least I was surrounded by friends who were eating normally.

The ramen wasn't the best I've had, but I'd eat it again. I liked the generous helping of corn (sweet, sweet corn nublets bursting with juicy sunshine, I love you) and the not-too-soft, slightly chewy noodles. The pork had a nice layer of buttery fat around the edges, and although the meat didn't have the same buttery-ness going for it, it was pleasingly tender. I'd like the broth more if it had more black sesame and less miso.

...I guess what I really want is noodles with corn, pork, and black sesame. Hm. Hm. [strokes chin]

: Can you see the fat on top of that bowl? Yeah.

if you're wondering what is the best ramen I've had, so far that award goes to the usually crowded and expensive (for ramen) Ippudo, in particular their "Special Ramen," kasane-aji, ($14) that I ate in December. The menu's description: "Ramen noodle in layered "tori-paitan" creamy chicken and tonkotsu [pork bone] soup topped with pork chashu, bean sprouts, onion, 1/2 seasoned boiled egg, kikurage [slivered wood ear mushrooms], scallions, and yuzu kosho." My description: IT'S FULL OF FATTY CHICKEN GOODNESS; there is no part of this bowl that isn't awesome. The thick tonkotsu and chicken broth exploded with chicken essence squeezed from pure chicken souls. Delicious souls.

But I'm more likely to return to Ramen Setagaya than Ippudo because I don't want to wait an hour to get seated—I want my ramen quickly. And even though Ippudo is only a little more expensive, I like saving a wee bit of money as well.

Addresses

Ramen Setagaya
141 1st Ave, New York NY 10003 (b/n St. Mark's and 9th; map)
212-529-2740; setaga-ya.com
(There's also one on St. Mark's Place, but my friend Nancy said the 1st Ave location was better. I haven't compared them so I'm just taking her word for it.)

Ippudo
65 4th Ave, New York NY 10003 (b/n 9th and 10th; map)
212-388-0088; ippudo.com

A Bunch of Tasty Bites, And Some Liquids
Kåre Week, Day 5 and 6: Home Cooking, Over-Porked at Minca, and Soft Serve Sundaes
Minca: Land of Delicious Ramen and Pork

This Part Ain't Food-Related

Back to the cold sore, because you're dying to read about orofacial herpes on my blog. It started to form about a week ago, last Sunday, but never having had a cold sore before in my 24 years of life, I didn't catch it early enough to prevent it from entering "MAKE ROBYN GO CRAZY" territory. So for those of you who've never had them before, I'll warn you so you can actually catch it before it happens. Maybe. This is just my experience.

Mine looked like a zit. So I did what I do with other zits: pop that suckah. (I don't recommend you do this.) But it wasn't a zit, so the popping attempt didn't do anything helpful—it just the blister angrier. Lesson learned: if something near your lip looks like a zit but doesn't act like one, that might be a cold sore, in which case NO TOUCHING, JUST STOPPIT. Maybe put some Abreva on it. (Speaking of Abreva, the package listed a bunch of triggers for getting cold sores that included lack of sleep, stress, extreme hot/cold weather, and menstruation. Damn. Cold sores should be popping up all over my mouth like crazy.) My bro recommended the Abreva, while my mom told me to take lysine tablets.

But these things didn't work because I'm pretty sure by Day 2 (Monday) I had gotten a staph infection (I'm surprised I'm not more disease-ridden considering my lack of healthy habits, to be honest). I didn't find that out until three days afterward, though, when I went to the doctor. In those three days, my lip continued to swell so that it felt like a small plum was growing out of my face. I had continuous headaches and toothaches, only on the left side of my head where the cold sore was. I thought, "Um, maybe this is normalOH MY GOD MY HEAD MY TEETH WTF EERruuhgfufughdrool," as I grabbed my head and glared angrily at my bottle of ibuprofen, its label full of broken promises. The pain only went away when I drained the blister (if you didn't just shudder, you should have), which took forever, which contributed to my 5 a.m. bed time last Thursday morning, which contributed to my overall zombie-like state for the rest of the day.

On Thursday morning I popped into the walk-in clinic near my office (the Beth Israel clinic on 23th Street and 7th Avenue; Dr. Uncyk is da man), got some antibiotics, and poof, I'm almost as good as new.

Aaaand that's my story. I'm pretty bad with taking care of my health issues, of which I have surprisingly few, but I'm learning.

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.

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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.