Convey to me the sushi please!

In light of my recent conversation with skip, I will attempt to be prodigious rather than overly verbose with my postings. As a quick reference point, I am the aforementioned Russian co-worker of skip's. As I was recently browsing tasting menu I noticed a page discussing the philosophy of the site's adventurous eater, and an interesting claim was made. The author claimed that main courses are pure evil because no matter how astoundingly good a dish may be, that thrill deteriorates and is subject to the law of diminishing returns with every bite. I quickly realized just how appealing this makes a cuisine which is already one of my very favorites, sushi. I warn, east restaurant, is not for the sushi snob because it is not an ultra serious place for sushi, yet it provides a fun atmosphere and eating experience and the sushi is a great buy if you consider bang for the buck. This place is extra special because the downstairs has a sushi conveyor belt, as opposed to the upstairs which includes traditional Japanese seating as well as Karaoke. The sushi chef's are stationed in the middle of the restaurant, and the sushi, upon completion is put on a small plate and sent out on the conveyor belt which winds it's way around to all the tables. The plates on the conveyor belt are of varying colors and patterns, each being a different price, indicated on the price guide posted at every table. At the end of your meal, the plates are collected and your bill is tallied! There are a few good things to know about this place, you can ask for a menu which contains a greater selection than on the conveyor belt which is than brought to your table on the same colorful plates, this is a GREAT date place ( read..low lights, music, great conversation starter), the drink deals are great ( try the sake lime/apple, or the huge mug-o-beer), my favorites are the pepper shrimp roll, mackerel ( saba), and asari jiru ( clam soup)



















Technorati Tags: Food, sushi, japanese, New York Restaurant

No, it was more like a beefy Loufah

At about 1 a.m. a month ago, Greg my Russian co-worker declared that we were going out to dinner. Since I'd brought my lunch, as per usual, I was not immediately excited. We talked about it and eventually decided that the best thing to do with our mandatory 60-minute 3 a.m. "lunch" break was to go down to K-Town (Korea Town). I was skeptical. When I think Korean, I think raw meat bucket a la Lost In Translation. Greg and Eric assured me it wasn't like that at all and followed that up by asking me if I liked spicy things. Another negative mark. I explained that I liked spicy things fine enough, but not spicy for the sake of spicy. Kimchi (a spicy Asian cabbage), as I knew it, wasn't just a little spicy. It was melt-your-face spicy, and that wasn't what I wanted at 3 a.m.

They convinced me I wouldn't be sorry, and we ran to Greg's car. Gahm Mi Oak was moderately populated, medium-lighted and full of tasteful Asian decor. Everybody but us was Asian (that's usually a good sign). I had planned on deferring to the other two, since they know Korean, but I ended up choosing a pork pancake. Greg ordered us a meat platter with scallions and a communal-type rice bowl called bibimbap, as well as a bottle of soju (basically Korean vodka, though not as strong - 20% alcohol by volume).

Shortly thereafter, we got a round of complimentary side dishes, including a surprisingly fresh and mild kimchi, long green peppers with mung bean paste, and a watery, gross, cloudy beef broth. Eric raved about the kimchi, and I agreed. The crunch is similar to a watery celery and the spice level between mild and moderate Indian food, with a heavy taste of ginger, garlic and chili. All the same, though, I wouldn't have wanted to eat a whole bowl of it. The green pepper, which I was trying to avoid, was also much milder than I'd expected, but I only ate the bottom part (before the seed area). The mung bean paste was salty and ... munghy.

Oh the meat platter. It landed on the table and I was shocked by the pile of of greyish-white tripe (it has something to do with bovine stomach lining), and Greg joyfully pointed out cow tongue. What is the rest? I asked. He was confused. I clarified, wanting to know what else beside tripe and tongue was on the plate. Just regular beef. That was a relief. I've been enamored with the idea of tripe since I first started getting excited about food. An editor at one of the placed I've worked whose opinion I hold in high regard likened tripe (which he said with a disgusted look) to tasting like wet dog with a cottony mouthfeel. You could just keep chewing forever. Not appealing, but still. I tried the tripe, which was described by Eric as middling, and it was incredibly chewy (more like a loufah than cotton) but the taste was essentially more bovine than canine. I chewed on it for a while and then gagged it down. I only had one piece of it. It tasted like essence of beef. The texture was pretty rough, though.

The tongue wasn't memorable. Tough, I think. Beefy. And the 'regular' beef was forgettable.

The pork pancake was positively delightful; quite similar to a potato pancake with pork and all sorts of vegetables. It was further improved with the addition of kimchi.

And the bibimbap was also great; all of these things were perfect for a first time Korean eater. I'd get the same things if I went back (when I go back).

Finally, the soju. We started off with a shot. Ours was distilled from sweet potatoes, barley, wheat, tapioca, and some other stuff. It tasted slightly sweet with a light vodka mouthfeel. They drank most of the rest. Since it was the middle of the night and we still had 4 hours left, I didn't care to drink any more than that.

And we made it back in one hour and five minutes. Not bad for a meal of that size and scope.


Technorati Tags: Food, Asian, New York City, Tripe
Special thanks to Chewy Chua, Lynn in Tokyo, and Quasimondo, respectively, for the pictures.

Buns of Steam

Ever since I first partook of the steamed pork buns at Momofuku—light, doughy and stuffed with perfectly tender Berkshire pork—they’ve been on my short craving list. After sampling similar wares at a few other Asian spots, I could safely say no one else could touch those buns.

Then, lo and behold, New York magazine raved about Tribeca newcomer Province, even going so far as to compare its mantou bread sandwiches to the steamy excellence at Momofuku. New York hasn’t steered me wrong yet, so we headed down to Tribeca for a “cheap date night” with high expectations.

Province (305 Church St., 212-925-1205) is easy to miss among the trendy cafes populating this stretch of Church, but while seated at the window we noticed plenty of intrigued looks on the faces of worker bees passing by. The sparse design is a bit IKEA meets diner, with unadorned cement floors and blond wood benches with odd, Swiss cheese-looking “privacy” walls. It was pretty empty on the Wednesday evening we visited, but the staff was friendly and efficient.

Not knowing how large the sandwiches would be, my friend ordered two—spicy pork ($3.75) and braised pork shoulder ($3.75)—and I chose the pork shoulder and side salad with ginger dressing. In short order, the buns arrived wrapped in wax paper and still steaming. Unlike Momofuku, Province’s buns are sprinkled with black sesame seeds and the mantou isn’t quite as light and doughy, but it is still slightly chewy and with one “déjà vu” bite I knew I’d found another craving. The pork shoulder, seasoned with just the right amount of sauce to avoid a mess, was a tender affair layered with thinly sliced pickled cucumbers. The spicy pork was a little perkier in taste with a dash of hoisin, but I preferred the sliced texture of the shoulder over the traditional pulled pork. One sandwich left me wanting a little more, so next time I will probably split a second or just indulge in two all to myself. At these prices, it’s not the worst thing I could do.

Oh yeah, and plan to head over to Province early--it closes at 7:30 pm.

Technorati Tags: Food, Asian Cuisine, NYC

Oh Mister Dumpling Man...

After fighting failure all day (finding a new apartment sucks. Does it ever), I tried to make my way back to the subway from the depths of the Lower East Side (or the East Village, I can never tell where the one and and the other begins - regardless, there weren't really any subways around, so that's why I think it's the Lower East Side). And anyone who knows the LES area knows the profusion of restaurants. All those restaurants and stands, with their siren calls, leading haphazard diners to their death on the rocks. Or something.

Over the last few weeks I've been trying to eat out less. Well really to spend less money, but eating out less is perhaps my key to spending less.

But I can't help but look at menus. I mean, they're right out there on the street waiting to be read. And on this hot, hazy (smoggy, disgusting) summer day, what better than a slow walk through the Lower East Side, reading menus. (Of course I can think of some better ways to spend said day, but they involve sangria and sitting in a window overlooking poor saps outside reading menus)

And I was doing reasonably well until I hit the Dumpling Man on St. Marks Place.

Oh spicy, salty rapture.

I let the cashier order for me and ended up with six seared pork dumplings, monster sauce, and an Izzie pomegranate soda. They took their time and it was so worth it. The slightly crisp dumplings went very well with the sauce (an extra $1.50, on the side), and the sauce was something else. It had Asian chives in it and was exceptionally spicy and garlicky, but too much so. On the Burn-Your-Face-Off scale, where spicy Thai is the hottest (leaving me with tingly lips for 45 minutes and bringing tears to my eyes), this sauce was a 4 (meaning that it brought a tear to my eye when I accidentally inhaled some, and that it made my lips tingle for a few minutes).

Oh, and the atmosphere. It's a small place, modern-looking with glass windows into the dumpling assembly line. The trays look like bamboo.

I left happy and full.

Technorati Tags: Food, Dumpling, New York, Restaurant
Dumpling shot by missdju at flickr. Thanks.