Xiao Long Bao, aka "Soup Dumpling"

Okay, this is it—my final burst of eating from Big Apple, April '07.

On my first whole day in New York, I nipped out of the conference I was attending and dashed up the odd fifteen to seventeen blocks to catch a quick lunch at Joe's Shanghai in Midtown, home of the soup dumpling in the City, or at least the most popular place to get them.

Now, I don't want to choose sides between Din Tai Fung, which is the place of choice in Los Angeles for that style of dumplings, and Joe's Shanghai as to who makes a better xiao long bao 'less I become persona non grata even more for how much I still remind loyal to all things East Coast, 'though I'm here in LA and recently sealed a fate that will keep me here for at least a few more years (more on that another time), but I will say I really, really enjoyed Joe's Shanghai. Their soup dumplings were really, really good, and very, very soupy; a little more soupy than Din Tai Fung's—sorry, I just had to drop that bit in—'though that doesn't mean they're better, maybe just bigger. But I haven't been to Din Tai Fung in a few years, so I can't be trusted with my memory; it might be slightly wobbly and easily corruptible, especially when presented with a fresh bamboo steamer with huge, jumbo egg-size dumpling all hot and steamy 'n gushy with meaty broth.

I had both the Crab Meat with Pork Meat Steamed Bun and Pork Steamed Bun, which I shared with J. who once again joined me for lunch. There was only a slight difference between the xiao long bao with just pork and those with a combination of crab and pork; the later had nominally lighter flavor, but primarily meaty vs. crustacean-like, while the former was full-on, no-holds rich, fatty porky-ness. But both were very filling; I could only manage six total before feeling full.

A good, quick lunch that allowed me to be back in time for my afternoon panel—and nobody even noticed I was gone.


Joe's Shanghai
Queens
136-21 37th Avenue
Flushing, New York 11354
Ph: 718-539-3838, 718-539-4429
Uptown
24 W 56 Street
New York, New York 10019
(between 5 and 6 Avenue)
Ph: 212-333-3868
Chinatown
9 Pell Street
New York, New York 10013
Ph: 212-233-8888
www.joeshanghairestaurants.com

Balthazar's Loud Late Lunch

Silly me thought my late lunch at Balthazar would be a quiet affair in a near-empty restaurant, but the actual situation couldn't have been further from my expectation when E. and I arrived for a 2:30 PM reservation, which I thought I was being anal to make the week before.

Controlled chaos, organized disorder, clear confusion. The atmosphere in Balthazar was all those things through the afternoon, so upon reflection I'm surprised our meal went so well and the service was so good.

My powers of eating bi-vials are exceptional. I can consume a bucket of steamed clams or mussels meant for two at any seafood shack on either Coast, West or East, with little exertion and still have room to finish whatever entrée I ordered: fish 'n chips, Maryland crab cakes, soft shell crab sandwich, lobster roll etc.... But Balthazar's moules were my undoing. For the first time, I failed to finish a bowl—a low point in my long eating history. Even now, I replay the situation in my mind and try to analyze the errors that cost me the last 1/2 dozen mussels.

Were the mussels not good? No, not true. While they weren't the best mussels I've ever had, they were still passing and a popular dish all around—many tables nearby also ordered moules frites. However, I felt the flavors a bit too mild for my full enjoyment. If I were in the kitchen, I would have probably pushed the parsley in the dish, so it tasted fresher; the leeks and celery needed help to amplify their aromatics.



Was it the Spinach and Ricotta Ravioli appetizer I shared with E.? Maybe, that's a possibility. Those ravioli were divine, soft pillows of tender spinach and luscious ricotta that to eat was like wrapping my mouth in a plush down comforter. Ravioli aren't French, obviously, but Balthazar worked the pasta on the level of a fine Italian restaurant.

Did carbs sabotage my meal? Yes, I think so. First, there was the bread, wonderfully crusty sourdough that was brought warm to our table. It's the little touches that make a big impression on me; I give bonus points to any restaurant that warms their bread before dropping the basket on the table. I ate two slices slathered with butter right off without thinking. My excuse: I needed to neutralize the free glasses of champagne the gallant maitre de gave E. and I while waiting for our table in crowded conditions at the bar. The alcohol running in my blood was wrecking havoc with my rosy completion and making me flush boiled lobster red. I've already talked about the ravioli, but then there were also the French fries, or pommes frites, that came with the steamed mussels. I couldn't even finish those either and I shared them with the table, too. For me not to be finish my fries is also rarity, and I don't think it's ever happened ‘til that Friday—Balthazar happily undid me on many levels.




Then to add insult to my under performing stomach, E. and J., who met us at the restaurant, were able to polish off their entrées with aplomb. Granted E. ordered salad, the Roasted Beet Salad, but it was still a substantial plate of veggies with two wedges of rich blue cheese and walnuts to boot. I had a taste and it really was a wonderful salad, well-constructed with many different flavors and textures for one's palate to play with—slightly smoky bitter greens, crisp haricot vert, and lots of sweet red beets. But J. got the Duck Confit, which is anything but light, and she cleaned her plate, too. Once again, I had a bite; it was the kind of dish you would have on a cold winter's night after working the good earth on your French farm—hearty and fortifying. Now J. only had a few of E. and my ravioli, so I think she might have been hungrier, but her achievement needs to be weighed with the several fistful of fries she had with her meal to admire her efforts.

One not to admit defeat without a fight, I gamely encouraged the table to go in for desert. Together we shared Profiteroles with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. What is not to love about ice cream doused in chocolate, and we got a gravy boat full of sauce to pour, liberally, over the pastries. Cleaning the plate was a messy job, but someone’s got to do the delicious chore. For me, it was gloriously lush work.

In the end, I had a pleasant, if not quiet, lunch at Balthazar. And the length of time I took to enjoy the meal would make a French person proud—a very solid 2 hours and maybe a half more.


Balthazar
80 Spring St.
(btw Broadway & Crosby)
New York, NY 10012
ph: 212-965-1414
www.balthazarny.com

Post MoMA Duck

With all do respect to the French and their Duck Confit, which I've enjoyed on many occasions, nobody rocks the duck like the Chinese. Peking (or Beijing) Duck rules and gets my vote for top bird everytime. Being Chinese, I will also cop to a bias when making this pronouncement, but it doesn't diminish my fondness for what is essentially a permissible way of eating profuse amounts of crispy fried animal skin—not necessarily a bad thing.




After mixing with the crushing crowd that descends on the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) on Friday evenings after 4 PM when admission is free, J., C., and I hit the Midtown branch of the Peking Duck House for a late dinner.

I've never really had bad Peking Duck. The Peking Duck House kept that streak going, but what I liked most about the place was their service—not always a given in many Chinese restaurant. Once I finished one rolled, duck stuffed pancake, a waiter seemed to magically appear by the side of our table to make me another. This happened everytime until I'd eaten my fill, 'though I won't tell you how many times he materialized to make those duck wrap 'less you, dear reader, realize what I fear you might already suspect: I'm prone to piggishness.


Peking Duck House
Midtown
236 East 53rd St.
New York, NY 10022
ph: 212-759-8260
Chinatown
28 Mott St.
New York, NY 10013
ph: 212-227-1810
www. pekingduckhousenyc.com

Dinner @ wd~50

Food matters at wd~50—no secret there. How it's prepared, how it looks, and how it tastes are all equally important; and no detail is too small for you know about if you're interested to ask. Every aspect of your prospective meal is available for consultation with your server. And if you enjoy hearing about food, as well as eating it, as much I do; then deciding what to eat is a nice warm up to meal itself.

After some thought and discussion, my dinner at wd~50 was a 9-course tasting extravaganza with wine paring that began at 7:30 PM and lasted 'til 10:30 PM.




ROW 1 - Left: Sesame Crips

I munched on these between courses the whole night. It was like eating parchment, super thin sheets with sesame seed sprinkles.

ROW 1 - Right: Hamachi, black chickpea, celery root, carrot
Wine: Cava Avinyo Brut NV Reserva (Pendes, Spain)

While I've had fattier hamachi at my neighborhood sushi place, wd~50's hamachi was an easy beginning and a gentle way to slide into a meal that would be more adventurous down the road. The celery root, the white daub to the side, had the consistency of creamy mayo and provide texture to the dish, if not necessarily flavor; and the black chickpeas, the pebbles between the fish, were freeze-dried, imparting the opposite mouth feel—rough and gravelly.

ROW 2 - Left: Shrimp and tarragon macaroons

Basically Styrofoam-like balls, which I know doesn't sound appetizing, but they were good, as well as fun to eat. They literally went poof in my mouth and evaporated on contact with my tongue. It was like eating shrimp flavored air.

ROW 2 - Right: Foie gras in the round
Wine: Riesling Kabinett 'Erbacher Marchobrunn' Von Simmern 2004 (Rheingau, Germany)

Does this remind you of anything? I thought of Dippin' Dots, the freeze-dried ice cream, when the server put the bowl in front of me and handed me a spoon. The foie gras "rounds" also ate like Dippin' Dots; they melted in my mouth, leaving a butter-like texture to savor. The green dots were watercress, I think. I know the brown dots were dark chocolate, and buried under the foie gras were balsamic vinegar dots.

Foie gras being what is it—pure cholesterol—the dish was very heavy. If it wasn't for the wine to offset and cut its richness, I don't think I could have finished the bowl. But the combination of flavors was most enjoyable—the bitter chocolate against the creamy foie gras, balanced by the acidic vinegar.

ROW 1 - Left: Smoked eel, blood orange zest, black radish, chicken skin
Wine: Gruner Veltliner 'Gebling' Buchegger 2005 ( Kremstal, Austria)

The eel was my substitution instead of sweetbreads, which was the fourth course on the menu. I've never met an eel I didn't like and this was no exception. It was one of two courses where I wanted seconds—another slice please, Chef Dufresne. This dish had a nice balance of textures and flavors—mellow smoked eel against the faint firmness and light crunch of the shredded radish.

ROW 1 - Right: Beef tongue, fried mayo, tomato molasses

This was my favorite savory dish of the night. I cleaned the plate and still wanted more. The beef tongue had the taste of delicate corned beef, although milder in flavor than traditional cured and pickled beef. The fried mayo cubes were amusing little things with a spongy, springy texture so not like mayo from a jar. The molasses, the brown stripe to the side, was a concentrated paste of intense sweetness that didn't taste like tomato, but was good and a perfect match for the beef.

ROW 2 - Left: Miso soup, sesame "noodles"
Wine: A Cote Domaine Charvin 2005 (Rhone, France)

It was make your own noodles night at wd~50. A mini squeeze bottle contained the DIY sesame "noodles" to squirt into the miso broth. The broth was like essence; it tasted so clear it seemed to be distilled. It was the lightest miso I've ever had, yet also the most intense in flavor. The "noodles", like so many food elements in the tasting, provided texture if not necessarily flavor.

ROW 2 - Right: Langoustine, popcorn, hibiscus, endive

This dish was a challenge for my palate; it was all texture and very little taste. I appreciated the quality and feel of each of the food elements in my mouth, especially the red hibiscus chards which were like eating delicate bits of brittle glass. But I can't say if texture was enough to carry the day, I wanted a bit more flavor of something—salty, sweet, or peppery maybe. It was an esoteric dish to study and admired, but difficult to emotionally connect with.

ROW 1 - Left: Squab breast, beets, sorrel, coconut pebbles
Wine: Bonarda 'Vista Flores' Kaleido 2005 (Mendoza, Argentina)

I had the server describe this dish when I was still looking at the menu, so I know the squab was gently cooked to a perfect medium rare in a beet reduction. Hence it's the same color as the beet stick and stumps to the left. The white balls were the coconut pebbles, and they dissolved in my mouth the same way as the shrimp macaroons.

Once again, another thoughtful dish from the kitchen, well conceived and constructed in its elements, if not very intense in its flavor. Words like austere and restrained come to mine when I think of it. No one thing stood out, but I enjoy it overall and liked it more than the langoustine that came before.

Thus ended the multiple appetizer and entrée portion of my meal. Next came a very suitable black currant parfait palate cleanser that set my mouth straight and primed me for the sweet stuff.

ROW 1 - Right: Black currant parfait, green tea, elderflower

This was a really lovely bowl of pleasant flavors and textures. The black currant ice cream had a wonderful mouth feel, lush and silky, and tasted lightly tart on the tongue. The dry, crisp cookie bits offset its smoothness and the white foam added yet another sensational to experience.

ROW 2 - Left: Soft chocolate, avocado, licorice, lime
Wine: Albana Passito 'Frutto Proibito' Fattoria Paradiso 2003 (Romagna, Italy)

Let me say that I loved everything about this desert, the way it was plated and how it tasted. It was abstract art as edible food and vice versa, abstract food as edible art—very much a joy to see and eat.

Each element on the plate had its own unique flavor and texture, and you could mix and match different combinations with every new spoonful. The lime ice cream was refreshing and partnered the soft chocolate twist perfectly. Or you could eat the ice cream with the crushed chocolate cookie and be just as happy. The licorice and avocado drops were inspired, adding them into the mix took things to the next level. The licorice skewed things spicy and the avocado made it all taste green and fresh.

ROW 2 - Right: Coffee cake, ricotta, maraschino, chicory ice cream
Wine: Commanderia St. John NV (Lemesos, Cyprus)

After the culinary high of the last desert, the final desert was hard press to top it—and ultimately didn't for me. The glaze on the coffee cake square was slightly smoky and probably intended to enhance the chicory ice cream, which I think lacked flavor intensity, although it had a nice texture; the coffee cake, itself, was a bit dry. This was the weakest thing in tasting.

While one would like to end on a high note, there were enough pleasant surprises and small revelations for my palate that I was pleased with food experience, overall. wd~50 challenges food and makes food challenging; but in the end, it's still food—you eat it, you enjoy it—and it's good, freakishly so, sometimes.

Wine P.S. I thought the German Riesling, Austrian Gruner Veltliner, and French Cote du Rhone were exceptional. Those alone were worth the extra for the wine pairing.


wd~50
50 Clinton St.
New York, NY 10002
ph: 212-477-2900
www.wd-50.com

Girl Rediscovers Kitchen

I interrupt my recent string of restaurant posts with this bulletin—I still cook. While I've been hitting the restaurant circuit pretty hard on recent trips, I haven't forgotten my way around a kitchen once I've returned from my travels. Since coming back from New York, I've fired up my stove twice to make a fish stew and beef short ribs.

The fish stew came courtesy of Chef Paz, so I'll refer you to her site for the details on Brazilian Style Salmon Fish Stew. I threw my salmon in the marinade in the morning before going to work and tossed everything in a pot to cook once I got back in the evening. It doesn't get any easier than that for wonderful results. It's a full-flavored dish that goes great with rice. I made enough for dinner one night and two lunches during the week. A container also went into the freeze for later, down the road, when I'm too lazy to cook.




Short ribs are a lovely cut of beef to work with, although they've gotten a bit pricey with their recent, newfound popularity. The meat is marbled in a wonderful way; and as long as you slow cook it, you're guaranteed a marvelously tender outcome.

My short ribs were turned into Short Ribs Provencale with a recipe from Bon Appétit. I had a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon lying around and used it instead of Zinfandel. I don't think the switch made much of a different. One red wine is as good as another in my opinion for cooking, as along as its something you would also drink. And once again, I had enough ribs for one dinner, a couple lunches, and the freezer for a later date.



SHORT RIBS PROVENCALE

Makes 6 servings.

Ingredients
2 tablespoons (or more) olive oil
6 pounds meaty beef short ribs
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 medium carrot, finely chopped
1 celery stalk, finely chopped
12 whole garlic cloves, peeled
2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 tablespoon dried herbes de Provence*
2 cups red Zinfandel
2 1/2 cups canned beef broth
1 14 1/2-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
1 bay leaf
1/2 cup (about) water
24 baby carrots, peeled
1/2 cup Niçois olives,** pitted
3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Preparation

Preheat oven to 325°F. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in heavy large ovenproof pot over medium-high heat. Sprinkle ribs with salt and pepper. Working in batches, add ribs to pot and brown well, turning often, about 8 minutes per batch. Using tongs, transfer ribs to large bowl.

Pour off all but 2 tablespoons drippings from pot or add oil as necessary to measure 2 tablespoons. Add onion, chopped carrot, and celery and cook over medium-low heat until vegetables are soft, stirring frequently, about 10 minutes. Add garlic, flour, and herbes de Provence; stir 1 minute. Add wine and 2 cups broth; bring to boil over high heat, scraping up browned bits. Add tomatoes with juices and bay leaf. Return ribs and any accumulated juices to pot. If necessary, add enough water to pot to barely cover ribs. Bring to boil.

Cover pot tightly and transfer to oven. Bake until ribs are very tender, stirring occasionally, about 2 hours 15 minutes. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cool slightly, then refrigerate uncovered until cold. Cover and keep refrigerated. Bring to simmer before continuing.)

Add remaining 1/2 cup broth, peeled baby carrots, and Niçois olives to pot; press carrots gently to submerge. Cover, return to oven and continue cooking at 350°F until carrots are tender, about 15 minutes. Discard bay leaf. Transfer short ribs and carrots to platter. Tent with foil to keep warm. If necessary, boil sauce to thicken slightly. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour sauce over short ribs. Sprinkle with parsley.

* A dried herb mixture available at specialty foods stores and in the spice section of some markets. A mix of dried thyme, basil, savory, and fennel seeds can be substituted.
** Small brine-cured black olives; available at Italian markets, specialty foods stores, and some supermarkets.

Bon Appétit, January 2002

La Dolce Vita at A Voce

Ravenous doesn't even come near describing the state of my hunger when J. and I rolled into A Voce for our 9:30 PM dinner reservation on Saturday night. I was already starved for food two hours earlier when we strolled through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which was a shame because I dearly love wandering through the Met, but my rumbling, grumbling stomach kept distracting me while looking at the exhibits.

A Voce was packed. I don't think they had an empty table all night. The place buzzed with boisterous chatter, and the convivial mood last until closing. I overheard a guy the next table over exclaim, in a posh English accent, to his companion, "I love your tits", which made his whole party burst out laughing. And this was over appetizers and the first bottle of wine, so you can imagine how the night progressed for them and all of us who were eating and drinking—good food and good fun all around.

But back to the food festivities at my table where J. and I started with cocktails and two antipasti: duck meatballs with dried cherry mostarda and roasted beet salad with hazelnuts, ruby grapefruit, and formaggio caprino.

The duck meatballs seemed to be the most popular dish in the place. I counted three plates in a row coming out to the kitchen when I went back to the ladies room. And once I ate one I could see why. These were no ordinary meatballs; they were rich and full-flavored with a faint hint of a licorice-like spice, maybe anise, I’m guessing, floating in the background. The cherry sauce was slightly tart, cutting the heaviness of the duck, and the celery purée was pure soft pleasure that was like silk in my mouth.

The beet salad was fairly pedestrian with mixed greens, citrus, and cheese, but still good if not exceptional. The flavors were too even, so the salad tasted a bit flat. Maybe if the cheese bits were sharper, the citrus dressing more acidic, or the hazelnuts smoked then the salad would have another dimension and be more playful on the palate.




Being one not to make a decision when it can be avoided, I got appetizer portions of the pasta so I could try two kinds—spaghetti with ramps, speck (bacon), and Parmesan and rigatoni with spicy pork ragu, rapini, and ceci (chickpea). The spaghetti was amazing; pasta like this is why I love Italian food. The Parmesan coated the pasta with a delightfully sharp saltiness, while the bacon amped up the flavor factor with more salty fattiness. Then the ramps cut through all that with bursts of greenness that made everything taste fresh. It was pasta that was a pleasure to eat, and I couldn’t stop to try the rigatoni until the bowl was clean.

The rigatoni was a surprisingly mild considering the sauce was a spicy pork ragu. I was expecting something heartier and earthier. Chickpeas were an interesting addition, albeit strange in my opinion, and gave the pasta a nutty flavor if you got one with your noodles.




Two appetizers and two pastas down and I still had an entrée to get through, although I planned it to be light so I could manage it. I like seafood, particularly East Coast seafood, which I grew-up eating, but is difficult to get on the West Coast, obviously. So, I couldn’t resist when I saw local striped bass on the menu—steamed striped bass in basil-shellfish broth with shrimp polpettine and new potatoes. The fish was light and lovely in the basil broth, but I felt the dish didn’t need the clams to mix things up on the plate; their flavor in the liquid would have been enough for me. Very satisfying after the pasta, but probably not substantial enough if I had order it alone being as hungry as I was an hour and half ago.

Even after all that food, I was still game for desert. I was determined to end the meal properly and bring my time in the Big Apple to an appropriate close.

There are few things in the world as glorious fried dough dusted with sugar and dipped in melted chocolate; so when I saw donuts on the menu, or bomboloni in Italian, it was a no-brainer that J. and I would share that when she deferred the choice to me.

Hot out of fryer these donuts were as light as air and filled with soft custard that oozed sweet pleasure across my tongue. The experience only got better when I dunked them in chocolate and hurried to take a bite before the sauce ran to my hand. The rush of lushness in my mouth made me giddy.

My last night in New York I was left licking sugar and chocolate off my fingers—it truly was the sweet life!


A Voce
41 Madison Ave. (at 26th St.)
New York, NY 10010
ph: 212-545-8555
www.avocerestaurant.com

Big Apple Brunch

I like simple things done well; they achieve elegance in their simplicity that's near perfection. Such was my brunch at Prune in New York City—almost flawless and wholly good.

I was in New York last week for a conference—yet another, but final one for the year. Determined to enjoy every moment in the Big Apple since I hadn’t been back in years, I had my heart set on having a lovely weekend brunch to kick off my perambulation around the city. And I found just what I was looking for tucked in a small street in the East Village.

Prune is a charmingly little neighborhood place that doesn't take reservations for brunch, but fills up quickly and stays full through the day if the Saturday I was there represents the norm. J. and I walked through its door 10 minutes after 10 AM and every table was taken 10 minutes after that.



We decided to split an Eggs Benedict and Dutch Style Pancake, and together they couldn't have been a more ideal combination to share, giving us an opportunity to have savory and sweet. While J. impressed me by popping the poached egg whole in her mouth, I employed a more traditional approach to eating Eggs Benedict, cutting pieces of equal parts salty bacon, soft egg, and chewy bread blanketed in velvety Hollandaise sauce that made me go weak in the knees from the lushness it imparted on my mouth. In contrast was the wonderfully crisp half-moon shaped potato pancake that shared the plate; it was just how I like my potatoes for breakfast, golden on the outside and well cooked in the middle.



The Dutch Style Pancake was a baked affair with slices of apple on top and warm maple syrup served to the side. For a thick, substantial looking pancake, its texture was unexpected light, unlike those heavy flapjacks that can sink your stomach. I usually don't like pancakes because all that cooked batter can weight you down early in the morning, but I enjoyed Prune’s Dutch take. If more pancakes were made in this fashion, I might become a pancake lover.

The longer I sat at my table, the more I was delighted with Prune. If I lived in New York, I would certainly be one of its regular customers. As it is now, I'm a fan from afar.



Prune
54 East 1st St.
(btw. 1st & 2nd Aves.)
New York, NY 10003
ph: 212-677-6221
www.prunerestaurant.com

Pictured right: Prune's Prune Juice, i.e. fresh squeezed citrus juices