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Whenever my family comes to visit me in Manhattan, we usually go to Joe’s Shanghai because we’re all addicted to their soup dumplings. Yes, I know everyone likes to hate on Joe’s Shanghai these days, but we still love their xialongbao. Sure, it’s not as delicate as the crabmeat buns at Din Tai Fung in Hong Kong, or as cheap as a million other places in Taiwan, but I have room in my heart and stomach for all kinds of xialongbao. Fill it with soup, and I will eat it. Last month, however, I told my family I wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere completely different… the place across the street from Joe’s Shanghai, Famous Sichuan! They didn’t seem very excited, but I promised them if it was bad we could always go to Joe’s, and they begrudgingly relented. I don’t believe in democracy when it comes to food. MORE »
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By now most of you probably know how much I love pork and duck, but there is another side to me. A fishier side. Growing up, I actually preferred seafood over red meat. I was a weird kid, and unlike my brother who loved Big Macs and galbi (갈비, Korean beef ribs), I loved vegetables, ice cold naeng myun (냉면, cold buckwheat noodles), and hwe (회, Korean-style raw fish). (By the way, I believe this is one of the reasons I’m vertically challenged and my brother is not, lack of good ole’ American beef. Alas, I’m sure my childhood fondness for coffee and jumping from great heights also played a part.) So a few weeks ago, when Hannah (my sister-in-law) told me Yuraku, her mom’s restaurant in Flushing, started serving “live fish” flown in straight from Korea, I knew a trip to Queens was in my not-so-distant future. MORE »
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Sorry for jumping back and forth, but sometimes deliciousness throws me off track. Linear blogging is so “aughts” anyway.
At any rate, “The Overpriced & The Bad” focuses on two of my not so great experiences in Vegas; one a semi-miss and one a complete and utter mother of all misses. Not every meal can be hit, and here’s proof. MORE »
Two weeks ago, as is the case when my coworker, Taiwai, and I both happen to be “bag lunchless,” a half hour before noon, we were busy plotting lunch. Usually we get Chinese, he being Chinese and I having been Chinese in a past life (in another I was Indian, another Jewish, and another Italian). Hing Won was considered — it usually is — but then I remembered I hadn’t tried Lan Sheng yet; the newish Szechuan place across the street from Szechuan Gourmet. He mentioned his wife tried it the week before, and said it wasn’t as good as Szechuan Gourmet, so I quickly moved on to researching new Indian lunch options, when Taiwai imed me, “a place that has rabbit at least deserves some respect.” Yes, true, especially in Midtown. Lan Sheng deserved a shot, so off we went. MORE »
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For those wondering if the end was nigh, well, it’s here. Until my next trip to Asia, this will be my last East Asian post, and it’s about airport food. Hell what?! Hell yeah, airport food! In East Asia, specifically in Beijing, Incheon, and Hong Kong, unlike here in the States, airport food is actually good. I ate roast goose, hwedupbab (회덥밥, similar to bibimbab, but with raw fish), and hot noodle soup; all within fifteen minutes of my departure gate. Not a single overpriced shrink-wrapped sandwich, stale bagel, or a generic hamburger was eaten. MORE »
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From the beginning, the stars weren’t aligning for me and China. My first application for a visa to China was denied. The reason, I work for a news/media company, and although I wrote on my application that I was going for pleasure, not business, I was rejected. Beijing may have hosted the Olympics, but that still doesn’t change the fact that China is a communist country. Foreign press is not welcome unless it is authorized. I argued and argued, but no one wanted to listen, and they just sent me to another line when they got tired of talking to me. Finally, after being shuffled back and forth between several windows, someone told me to come back with a letter from my work stating specifically that I was not going to Beijing on company business. An hour later, to the dismay of the people at the embassy, I was back with my letter, signed by my manager and on company letterhead. Another hour later, I had my visa. It took an entire day of waiting on line, running across town twice in the pouring rain, plus two application fees and one hefty expediting fee, but I got my visa. Unfortunately, I also got food poisoning from a bad gyro at the diner next door. I should I have seen it has a sign, but of course I didn’t. That would have been too easy. MORE »
There was so much food I wanted to eat in Seoul, but one week just wasn’t enough. There was the dduk I wanted to eat from the nice old ladies in the subway station (1 styrofoam tray for KR ₩1,000/US $00.84!), more street ddukboki, jajangmyun (자장면, noodles with black bean sauce), sweet potato fries, more samgyupsal (삼겹살, pork belly)… the list goes on and on. Fortunately, there was one thing on my to-eat list I made sure to eat before take-off to Beijing: my favorite, gobchang (곱창, small intestines). Well, not exactly but close enough, I ate daechang (대창, large intestines).
When Joo Hyun and Soo Hyun said we were going to go eat daechang, I was excited, but also apprehensive. The thing with large intestines is that it’s usually funkier than small intestines, and I mean funkier in a bad way. A little irony funk is nice, but too much and you need another bottle of soju to make it enjoyable. That’s been my experience so far in New York at least. However, when we got to Yeontabal (연타발), immediately I knew it was going to be different. First of all, the restaurant is strictly charcoal (숯불, sootbul). Meat always tastes better when it’s cooked on charcoal as opposed to a gas grill. Second, all the meat brought to the table was fresh. You could tell just from looking at it. But of course, even with the best intentions, food can be royally f*cked up. Happily though, with the help of Joo Hyun, I can report to the contrary. MORE »