Sunday, May 9, 2010
Icelandic Bounty
Plokkfiskur: hashed fish stew with milk, potato, onion, and butter. Typically made with cod or haddock. Not exactly diet food, described by Icelanders alternately as "old-man food" and "a hangover cure." This particular microwaveable specimen was picked up at a gas station near Hvolsvollur, and photographed on the dashboard of our rented Toyota Yaris.
Smoked puffin with mustard sauce. Gosh, those little penguins sure are adorable, right? Well, they taste good too. Very lean and iron-y, almost like venison. Made me feel alive.
And last but certainly not least, the Icelandic hotdog. I unfortunately do not have a glamour shot of the sausage itself, but please enjoy this photo instead. What makes the Icelandic hotdog so special? Look, I'm not exaggerating this: hotdogs are often referred to as Iceland's national food, and in August 2006, The Gaurdian selected the Baejarins Beztu Pylsur stand in downtown Reykjavik as Europe's best hotdog. (Full article, in Icelandic, with accompanying Bill Clinton photo, here.) Icelandic hotdogs come with ketchup, sweet mustard, raw onions, fried onions, and a mayo-based remoulade with sweet relish. They are disgusting and amazing all at once, and available literally everywhere, even the most remote parts of the country. I enjoyed my first one so much (see above) that I made the mistake of getting another less than 12 hours later, after which I did not eat any more for the remainder of my time in Iceland. But in that brief, glorious moment outside on Laugavegur at 3 a.m., the pylsur was the best part of my trip.
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Monday, April 5, 2010
Ethnic Eating Adventures: Arthur Ave., Bronx
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Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Ethnic Eating Adventures: Sunset Park Edition
Last week, my intrepid band of adventuresome eaters journeyed to Sunset Park, Brooklyn, for an afternoon of cross-cultural snacking. Sunset Park is the perfect microcosm of the multi-ethnic diversity that makes NYC as a whole such an exciting place to eat. Since the 1970s, SP has been home to a large number of Mexican, Puerto Rican and Dominican immigrants--in fact, by 1990s, 50% of the nabe's population was of Hispanic descent. * And since the 1980s, the west side of the park has been home to many East Asian immigrants, who've spread out along 8th Ave. and turned this part of the hood into Brooklyn's large and thriving Chinatown.
But enough of all this demographic background--I'm just trying to get across that an afternoon walking and eating in SP can result in a stomach full of tacos, tortas, bahn mi, dumplings, noodles and more, all within blocks of each other. And that, simply put, is awesome.
Here's a look at our afternoon of face-cramming-- it was cheap (we hit five places and I don't think anyone spent more than $8 at any one place), more than filling, and crazy delicious. I tried to get at least one unflattering action shot of everyone who came, but a select few escaped the the lens. Lucky bastards. Anyhow, some highlights and notes from our trip, below:
Ari slurping dumpling soup from Yunnan Flavor Snack. The soup ($4) was a red-hot, oily, smelly mess of chili oil, pork broth, and thinly wrapped, brain-looking dumplings. YFS is, as far as I can tell, the only Chinese restaurant in NYC serving Yunnan (a southwestern Chinese province)-style cuisine, which is characteristically spicy, herbal, and noodle-heavy. YFS looks like a dump from the outside, but don't be fooled. Get the pork noodle soup (more on this below) or the aforementioned dumplings.
Portrait of a pork noodle soup.
Rizzo, really psyched about some Asian soft drink.
Bertie with the (literally)-finger-licking good pambazo ($6) (see glamour shot below) from Tacos Xochimilco. Pambazos are a cousin to tortas, except that the bread of the sandwich is dipped in a red guajillo pepper sauce and seared on the outside, meaning your figers will be seared in sauce, too. But that's okay, when the filling--potatos, chorizo, avocado, refried beans, queso freco and shredded lettuce-- is this good, a little guajillo pepper stain is worth it in the long run. I've never seen pambazos on a menu before, and I'd like to give credit to the incredible NYC Food Guy for introducing them to me.
The pambazo, bisected.
Tony preparing to inhale a taco supreme at Tacos Matmoros.
A sampling of tacos from Matamoros ($1.25 each)-- chorizo, tripe, tongue, chicken, carne asada, and carnitas. What makes Matamoros stand out from the rest of the many tacos joints lining 5th Ave. is their attention to detail--griddling the tortillas before filling them, providing multiple salsas and sauces, and the overall quality of the meats. The standouts here were the chorizo (which is hard to screw up anyway), the carne asada, and the tripe. I'm not a huge tripe fan due to my aversion to rubbery, smooth textures, but this tripe was thinly sliced, heavily seasoned, and sauteed until it was deeply smoky and crsip--almost like bacon. I was pleasantly surprised and seriously impressed. Skip the tongue (too watery) and chicken (bland, though maybe that's to be expected).
Justin graphically devouring a pastry from Las Conchitas.
Las Conchitas is a fairly typical Mexican bakery, and while none of the offerings here were truly outstanding, they were fresh and dirt-cheap (I spent $10 on 10 pastries and 2 drinks). There was one bun, filled with a crumbly cinnamon-sugar core, that was particularly tasty. The Mexican cheesecake was also good--dense and tangy.
Yours truly, with bahn mi all over my face. Ba Xuyen is a longstanding Chowhound favorite for bahn mi in the city. The baguette was still warm, crispy on the outside, and I liked that they divvied up full-sized loafs for the sandwiches, meaning you could get lucky and end up with a middle piece that didn't taper down at one end. However, I was disappointed with the lack of spiciness on my #1 ($3.50), and I found the meatballs on the #4 borderline-gelatinous in texture. Points given for an even distribution of cilantro and pickled veggies, though, which is a pet peeve of mine at some Vietnamese sandwich places.
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Monday, January 4, 2010
Dim Sum A Go-Go
I've previously sung the praises of the 7 train, the elevated subway that cuts east-west across Manhattan and Queens, exposing the deep belly of some of the city's best ethnic eats. God, I love that train. I'd ride it start to finish, and in fact I did just that a few weeks ago, when I trekked out to its last stop, Main St/Flushing. Flushing is home to the country's largest population of Chinese immigrants east of the Rockies*. It's at once more dense and less hectic than Manhattan or Brooklyn's Chinatowns, and a real culinary wonderland. I've previously compiled entire walkable dumpling tours covering wide swaths of Flushing, but mostly focused on smallish stalls and restaurants doling out seriously cheap eats. This time, my trip was little different: I was out for dim sum, in the grandest fashion possible.
Dim sum is not a casual affair in Flushing: massive, ornate banquet halls heave and ho with the weight of hundreds of diners, pressed tightly into circular tables, barking back and forth with the brusque waitstaff hawking their miniature wares. After some research, we settled on Ocean Jewels as our venue; it has a reputation for serving excellent seafood for dinner but is also renowned for their weekend dim sum feast. At Ocean Jewels, it’s best to stay seated to avoid losing a foot (or worse) to one of the ladies torpedoing down the aisles with a cart full of pork buns. It's also best to come with a group, to ensure maximum variety in dishes tasted, and it's probably best to designate one loud, slightly bossy person to deal with the cart-staff and order for the table.
Major kudos to my adventuresome friends, who woke up early on a Saturday, rode the subway for over an hour, and were promptly greeted with braised tripe and abalone dumplings. Here's a sampling of some of our wares: some were fairly standard, some a bit more advanced. We had shrimp cakes, steamed pork buns, jellified tripe, egg custards, sweet bean rolls, sautéed morning glory, chicken feet, the aforementioned abalone dumplings, and a creamy, milky dessert with lychee and mung beans. This was dim sum for the masses: nothing was transcendent, but everything was solid and fresh. And when brunch for 8 comes to a grand total of $120, I’d take the 7 there and back again.
*Lee, Jennifer 8. “In This Chinatown, Chinese Is Just a Start.” The New York Times. 23 July 2006.
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Monday, March 2, 2009
On Bubbies and Babka
The epic smoked meat counter. Take a number, or else.
Overall, a worthwhile adventure. As an added bonus, Zabar's in conveniently located next to H & H Bagels, which may very well be the finest bagel producer in the city. I concluded my visit by sloppily arranging a half pound of sable on a fresh onion bagel on the streetcorner. It wasn't the prettiest scene, and I reeked for the whole subway ride downtown, but there's nothing I love more than getting in touch with my cultural roots...by jostling with 50 other crotchety grandparents for a slice of smoked fish.
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Sunday, November 30, 2008
Treasure Trove: Jackon Heights Edition
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Monday, November 10, 2008
Tuna Takeover 2000
Check out a video (not mine), here.
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Sunday, October 5, 2008
Tales of Southeast Asia
The wreckage of our table at Skyway 
One word of warning should you make the trek to Woodside for SriPraPhai: prepare to wait. Seriously. We went on a Saturday night around 8, and weren't seated until after 9. They close the kitchen by 10, and there were definitely people who didn't make the cut. This is no hidden gem, friends.
Skyway, on the other hand, may be. On a not-so-scenic stretch of Allen Street, it's got a goofy tiki decor and a not many patrons (or at least not when I was there, on a Friday for lunch. Though the fact that it was a Friday afternoon in the outskirts of Chinatown may explain the lack of diners. Anyhow.). I'm not that familiar with Malaysian cuisine, but given Malaysia's proximity to Thailand and my intense love of Thai sour-sweet flavor combinations, I wasn't anticipating problems finding something delicious. Indeed, my problems at Skyway stemmed more from needing to limit my ordering than trying to find something I wanted.
Malaysian food seems pretty cosmopolitan, borrowing ingredients and techniques from India, China, and Singapore. We got Ron Telur, a traditional Indian pancake filled with egg and onion, served with a chicken curry dipping sauce, a huge baby oyster-and-chive omelette, and Singapore-style fried rice noodles with shrimp, onion, bean sprout, egg and lop cheong (Chinese sausage). The omelette, for those who love oysters, is a ridiculous bargain at $7. The noodles were good, but a bit sweet.
We did not even begin to do justice to the menu at Skyway, which is enormous. I straight up do not know what half of the foods on there are. But I have every intention of going back to find out.
SriPraPhai Thai
64-13 39th Ave 11
Woodside, Queens 11377
718 899-9599
Skyway Malaysian
11 Allen St (at Canal)
New York, NY 10002
212 625-1163
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Friday, September 5, 2008
Dumpling$$!
gyoza, ravioli/tortellini, kreplach, peirogi, mandoo, shu mai, gnocchi, matzoh balls, etc. Whatever. I'll take it all.
But my favorite dumplings are Chinese ones: xiao long bao (soup dumplings), jiaozi, potstickers, wontons, bready steamed bao, and probably 999 others I can't think of right now. It is not at all uncommon for me go significantly out of my way (i.e., Flushing) in the hunt for quality dumplings. I never get sick of them. Maybe this is a product of living in China for 5 months, but I seem to recall that my obsession with these bad boys began much earlier--in all seriousness, I once asked the counselors at my Jewish summer camp if any of our SYSCO-catered meals would include pork dumplings.
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Monday, July 21, 2008
Turning Japanese
I have always had a strange obsession with grocery shopping. I find the practice highly therapeutic--grocery stores provide me with anonymity, alone time, and plenty of eye candy. In New York, sometimes the process is grueling: larger stores are jam-packed at rush hour, thus destroying the relaxing quality I miss from my suburban supermarket youth. But the city has something my childhood strip malls (mostly) didn't: ethnic grocery stores.
One of my favorite things about living here are these kinds of speciality shops, which usually cater to homesick expats and immigrants, not curious little white girls like me. Perhaps it's some subconscious fascination with The Other, or maybe it's just that I like looking at weird foodstuffs. Although I won't pick favorites, I do have a tendency to go for Asian in particular, a habit that started even before I spent time in Thailand and China. While some ethnic enclaves require epic subway rides to depths of Brooklyn or Queens, there are a few more centrally located. Of the various options (Manhattan's Chinatown, K-Town, etc.), there is a small(ish) but highly visible Japanese contingent in the East Village, centered near the shitshow of St. Mark's but radiating several blocks out from there. In this zone, there are several grocery stores catering to Japanese clientele, stores that go deep beyond the typical sushi-and-ramen noodles stuff. This weekend I took a mini-field trip to Sunrise Mart, a store on the second floor above the St. Mark's Bookshop, to see what I could find.
Shiitakes #1 & #2, respectively. Note the price difference.
The problem with many of my adventures is that I don't go with a plan: I don't usually need (or sometimes even want) to buy anything, and most of the time I wouldn't know what to do with the stuff even if I did. But I can't be stopped. I am a machine. 
Jumbo sardines (does that count as an oxymoron?).
I always feel slightly awkward wandering around, food-stoned and happy, while other shoppers go about their business with no concern for the novelty around them. 
Endless condiment choices!
Despite my occasional confusion and the potential annoyance of shoppers around me, my little culinary jaunts are usually worth it. Case in point: I got a bag of dried shiitakes, three rice balls, a tub of pickled vegetables and imported yam-flavored soba noodles for about $7.
Sunrise Mart
4 Stuyvesant St., 2nd Fl. (near 3rd Ave.)
New York, NY 10003
(212) 598-3040
Map
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Thursday, July 17, 2008
This Week's Diet
Some things I have eaten recently:
Cotton candy at Brighton Beach. I forgot what a strange and lovely sensation it is to have pure sugar disintegrate in your mouth.
Additionally, Brighton Beach is one of my favorite places in the world. I'm not entirely sure why. It's gaudy and tacky and utterly delightful. I always come home smelling of poppy-seed pastries and smoked fish and sunscreen.
Deep-fried tortillas at home, as part of D's authentic Mexican tostadas. 
Sautéed dandelion greens from Philoxenia, in Astoria, Queens. Bitter and pungent, not altogether that pleasant. This was my first trek to Astoria in search of Greek food. Sadly, entering Queens is not the same as entering the Greek Isles. I was hoping for more of an overwhelming cultural explosion, the way I feel when I venture to Chinatown or even the aforementioned Brighton Beach. Clearly, not all ethnic enclaves share (or want to share) the same aesthetic character. 
Tiny and perfect marinated taro at Soba-Ya in the East Village. I have a disproportionately high tendency to crave Japanese food, perhaps because the intricate attention to detail appeals to the OCD-infected side of me. This was a precursor to my bowl of hot duck-and-scallion soba noodles, 85-degree heat totally irrelevant.
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