The Incredible Adventures of Gourmet Gal

Eat Famously

2007-06-22T13:26:00.000-07:00

Guess what?! It's totally NYC Restaurant Week again!

This year, after careful selections, I've decided on the following restaurants:

Morimoto (because I've had a huge crush on his food since the original Iron Chef TV show was only available on my Asian hook-up channel in Japanese)
Union Square Cafe (because believe it or not, I've never eaten there... ok, I know, I know...)
Aureole (because I'm curious about their food)
Gordon Ramsay's maze (need I say more? Maybe I'll be lucky and get to watch him wacking his sous-chef with a cleaver live!)

So make your reservations NOW!

http://www.nycvisit.com/content/index.cfm?pagePkey=1713&CFID=8719102&CFTOKEN=16648208

HAS IT BEEN THAT LONG?!

2007-06-11T16:08:00.000-07:00

Guess what?

GOURMET GAL IS BACK!!!

Oh, man, time flies. I am more than certain that you are sooo sick of that pork fat headline by now. And no, I did not go on a diet, and yes, I still leap up at the thought of food. So check out the Queens restaurant list I wrote for Sally’s Place:

http://www.sallys-place.com/food/dining_directory/north_america/ny_queens.htm

And (always, always) leave room for dessert …

IF YOU GONNA EAT PORK FAT, THIS IS THE PLACE TO DO IT

2006-11-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

MOMOFUKU NOODLE BAR

163 First Avenue
New York NY 10003
212-475-7899

I believe in heaven.

Suppose pigs also believe in heaven. For these creatures whose lifelong purpose almost always leads to the inevitable sweet sausage or Christmas ham, Momofuku is sure to be in their final prayers. Imagine ascending to a place where people constantly shower you with T.L.C. and gaze at you with awe and respect. Nothing could be better than this afterlife. The pork at Momofuku is in heaven, especially the fatty ones.

We arrived at this much-talked-about East village noodle bar on a Monday night. The place was small with modern designs and packed with trendy down towners, as well as European tourists. We settled elbow-to-elbow at the bar styled table which circles the open kitchen area, allowing you to see your meal as it is prepared. I enjoyed the view of three busy chefs, while browsing the menu with much enthusiasm.

J groaned, “Order whatever you want. Just get something that I can also eat.” He struggled to balance his heavy jacket and big backpack (containing, I’m certain, more than one back issue of some random video game magazines) on his lap. “I hate uncomfortable seats like these!” He fidgeted on the stool.

I ignored him and dove into the menu. It was divided in four categories - small dishes, local, fish, and noodle & rice - with brief heads-ups at the bottom like, “No substitutions or special requests“ and “We do not serve vegetarian friendly items expect Ginger Scallion”. The menu provided simple yet exciting items such as trotter terrine ($12), baby octopus salad ($13), and assorted ramens. Their pork reputation was too high to dismiss, so I settled on the followings:

BERKSHIRE PORK STEAMED BUNN ($9)
ROASTED BRUSSELS SPROUTS - KIMCHI PUREE, BACON ($11)
MOMOFUKU RAMEN - BERKSHIRE PORK COMBO, POACHED EGG ($14)
CHICKEN & EGG - SMOKED CHICKEN, POACHED EGG, SCALLIONS, RICE ($13)
COKE ($2)

J’s coke came in the old fashioned glass bottle which pleased him greatly. The roasted Brussels sprouts arrived shortly after. On a bed of scarlet kimchi puree, the sautéed sprouts bounced with bacon cubes which were lightly charred around the edges. I had a mouthful of everything and almost leaped for joy. It tasted simply divine. The spicy puree and crunchy vegetables harmonized gloriously with the sweet and savory bacon. No trace of anything artificial in the bacon, just good ol’ pork. The dish was truly one of those brilliantly simple ideas that left you with a memorable aftertaste. I just could not stop eating it. Even J liked it.

The steamed pork bun turned to be an upscale, mini interpretation of a popular Taiwanese street food called “split bun”. Our traditional version is a palm-sized flat bun split in the middle and filled with roasted pork, sweet Peking sauce, cilantro, and grounded toasted sweet and salty peanuts. The one at Momofuku was stuffed with pickled Japanese cucumber, roasted pork, and smeared with a sweet brown sauce. I took a skeptical bite - which was about half of the bun - and my eyes lit up.

The pork was excellent!

Not only did the fat melt in my mouth and turn into a delicious stream of rich juice, but the meat was also incredibly tender and savory. I appreciated the cucumber pickles for their slightly crunchy texture and clean taste - as they did not disturb the spotlight of roasted pork.

The momofuku ramen had the appearance of a promising bowl of Japanese ramen - tons of noodles (almost too much to my liking) in the middle, which was surrounded by a piece of roasted pork, slices of pickled bamboo shoots, handfuls of thinly chopped scallion with collar greens, shredded Berkshire pork, and a barely poached egg with two pieces of nori standing by the side. I tasted the broth, it was lukewarm and slightly muddy. I bit into the noodles, they were al-dente but not superbly textured like great noodles should be. The rest of the ingredients had the same mediocre effects - the lightly sour collar greens was competent and the shredded Berkshire pork tasted - well, cooked. It was not until my tongue touched the piece of roasted pork that I squealed with delight.

The pork was excellent!

Just like it was in the steamed buns, this piece of roasted pork was tender and burst with flavor. I savored every bit of it and wanted more.

J’s chicken and egg was quite a disappointment only in comparison with the extraordinary excellency of the roasted pork. It was basically grilled chicken with pickled cucumbers and an egg over rice. J was uneasy with the barely poached egg.

“What are you supposed to do with it?” He gingerly tapped at the surface like testing a water bed.
I waited until he finished inspecting everything else in the bowl and then pierced my chopstick right in the middle of the egg. “Like this.”
The look of disgust arose. He nudged the bowl away from him. J was horrified by the site of the running yoke. Too bad, this yummy lava would compliment the grilled chicken so well.

I devoured every piece of pork product in sight while eyeing the neighbor’s trotter terrine. As a long line had started to accumulated outside the place, the waiter came more than once to check on our possible departure. J asked for the check. It came up to $53 without tip, not cheap for two bowls of rice and noodles, but absolutely worth every bit of my hard-earned money. And frankly if I had a way with pigs like chef David Chang does, I would so totally charge that much for a bowl of noodle soup as well.

R.I.P. Charlotte, Babe, Miss Piggy, Porky and all the other pigs that were satisfied for my dinning pleasure. Next time, pick your script more carefully.

P.S. Momofuku’s Iowa Berkshire pork came from Berkridge & Piccinini Brothers and their bacon hailed from Benton’s Smoky Mountain Country Hams - all this was stated affectionately in the menu.

STREET VENDORS, ME LOVE YOU LONG TIME!

2006-11-03T08:36:00.000-08:00

SAMMY’S HALAL

73rd STREET AND BROADWAY
JACKSON HEIGHTS, QUEENS

Halloween, the evening before All Saints’ Day, the night when the spirit and the normal world allegedly become one. A time that’s considered the second most exciting night next to Christmas eve for kids and adults alike. All I could think about was the just-revealed winner for the 2006 Vendy Awards.

The curiosity was eating me alive.
I must have Sammy’s Halal food.

So J volunteered to go out into the cold. Okay, he didn’t. I begged. A good husband comes in handy all the time.

He came back thirty minutes later with two heavy takeout containers of Sammy’s goodies.
“Was there a huge line?” I was curious.
“Nope. But the guy’s cheesy. He’s got the trophy on top of his cart.”
I gave him a strange look. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”
He shrugged. “It’s freezing out there.” J took off his thick jacket and rubbed his hands.

Men exaggerate.

A whiff of intense aroma arose the minute I lifted the Styrofoam lid. One box contained grilled cubes of chicken with shredded lettuce on top of slender gains of basmati rice. The other had chopped beef and lamb kebab with the same rice and salad (slices of raw radishes were added onto it). I had asked for white sauce and just a tiny bit of red sauce. The result was a beautifully messy landscape. I dug in eagerly.

The beef and lamb kebab was indeed robust, savory, and full of satisfying Middle Eastern spices. So was the lightly charred grilled chicken. What surprised me the most was the rice. It was not the usual limp, yellow jondus looking crap you get from the generic Halal vendor you frequent. Samuil Haque’s basmati rice tasted healthy, chewy, and just plain delicious. Accompanied with the meat, it was a dinner of heaven at mere $5.

Here’s to Sammy the winner!

That being said, I woke up the next morning with intense heartburn. What went down smoothly the night before was arguing with me ferociously. Maybe I should have only one plate of Sammy’s Halal instead of two. Or maybe it was the five Jack Torres chocolate, one grande maple macchiato, and the bowl of Kettle Corns that I consumed after the meal that did the voodoo. Whatever it was, I am so totally going back Sammy‘s again. Next time, I’ll try the gyro.

For more info on The Street Vendor Project:
http://streetvendor.org/public_html/staticpages/index.php?page=20051004213526141

HAVE YOU HAD YOUR BOWL OF PHO TODAY?

2006-10-19T14:06:00.000-07:00

PHO BANG RESTAURANT

82-90 BROADWAY
ELMHURST, NY
718-205-1500

No?! Then your bowl is in for a treat.

Pho is like the other, other beef noodle soup for the Vietnamese. In America, they are generally big bowls of aromatic soup containing slightly chewy rice noodles and various types of beef (raw, cooked, flank, eye of round, brisket, etc.). The order also comes with a handful of fresh bean sprouts, springs of Asian/Thai basil with mint, and wedges of lemon on the side to add crunchy texture, luscious fragrance, and acidic excitement to the whole shibam. I was told that the real authentic pho in Vietnam is much simpler than the ones we get in America; just noodle, slices of beef, and savory broth. After all, pho is considered more of a breakfast food or snack than a main course in its native land.

For me, the key to a successful bowl of pho is the soup base. It has to be piping hot and intensely flavored with a lingering hint of sweetness. I always take a sip of the natural broth (sans herbs and lemon juice) as soon as my bowl is brought onto the table. The first impression is everything. One sip determines the fate of the pho.

Then, I like to place the bean sprouts and the herbs in the bowl, and burry them along with any raw slices of beef under the noodles. The heat from the soup will further cook the raw ingredients and release the fragrance of the herbs. While waiting for this one minute process, I like to concoct my dipping sauce by mixing sweet hoisin sauce (the dark brown squeeze bottle on the table) with Vietnamese hot chilly sauce (the bright red squeeze bottle, also on the table). Then I would take a bite of the rice noodles to judge if they were au dente. Only after that, would I dip the meat of my choice ( normally the raw/ barely cooked ones first) into the dipping sauce and savor it with a smile. Mmmmm, it's time to take another spoonful of the heavenly broth.

Very Tampopo, don't you think?

Pho Bang Restaurant in Elmhurst, Queens gets a gold star for its reliably good pho. With eight branches located in NY, LA, AZ, and TX, this chain restaurant provides fresh and sumptuous Vietnamese fairs at a reasonable price. The one in Queens is a glass window-shield triangle situated on the edge of a Chinese supermarket's parking lot which is adjacent to a line of Hong Kong, Thai, and Vietnamese restaurants. You can literally smell the sweet scent of basil, lemon grass, and simmering beef bone soup base permeating out of the restaurant from three blocks away.

The place was always packed. On the Monday night we were there, a line had accumulated by the door even though it was only 6:30 P.M. But the service was efficient - if not a bit brusque - we were seated within five minutes.

The appetizers featured standard American favorites such as Cha Gio (Vietnamese crispy spring rolls) and Goi Cuon (Vietnamese non-fried summer rolls). The main courses were divided into sections of Pho, Banh Hoi (angel hair noodles), Bun (rice vermicelli), and Com Dia (rice dishes). We ordered the followings:

CHA GIO (Vietnamese crispy spring rolls) $3.75 (for 4)
TAI NAM SACH (combination rice noodles, beef soup w/fresh eye of round, navel, tendon and omosa) $4.35 (regular bowl)
COM SUON NUONG (grilled pork chop on rice) $4.25
RAU MUONG ZAO TOI (Chinese watercress with garlic) $6.25

The deep fried Vietnamese egg rolls were satisfying with a mouthful of crispy rice paper and a mixture of pork, chicken, crabmeat, black mushroom & clear noodles. I loved to wrap them inside lettuce leaves with a sprig of mint, and dip the fat bundle into the sugary vinegar sauce. The result was a happy marriage of hot and cool, savory and sweet.

J's grilled pork chops arrived glistening with fresh grilled marks and faintly charred edges - all signs of a great barbeque. The lemon grass and fish sauce mixture, which the pork chops were marinated in produced such a deep layer of sultry tang that I couldn't help but gnaw on the bones like an eager puppy.

The Chinese watercress sautéed with garlic was prolific but not excellent. It was a little under seasoned - perhaps more salt, or even better, if some shrimp paste was added. Shrimp paste for the South East Asians is like anchovy paste for the Italians. The fermented pink paste has a potently pungent scent - I'm talking about the smell of rotten fish mixed with soiled blue cheese. A simple teaspoon mixed into sautéed Chinese watercress would yield such a sumptuously robust taste, that it's totally worth having a jar in your kitchen and drive everyone in the house insane.

The dessert menu showed the French colonial influence on Vietnamese cuisine, from Ca Phe Sua Nong (espresso special filter condensed milk coffee) and Soda Sua Hot Ga (soda with egg york and condensed milk) to Nhan Nhuc (dried longan in syrup served with ice) and Soda Xi Muoi (salty plum soda). I opted for:

CHE BA MAU (three colors sweet beans, jelly mung beans & coconut milk, served with ice) $1.75

It arrived in a see-through glass with red, green, white - three colors of zig-zag-edged small strips of jellies - and sweet read beans, mung beans puree with dense coconut milk. What a cheerful sight! I slurred the mixture happily while J wrinkled his nose. "No thank you," He shook his head before I even thought about offering him some. I loved it. It was milky and sugary - just what I liked after a toothsome meal.

As we looked around, almost every table had ordered a bowl of pho - something that J had a hard time understanding. He thinks that the only time a person should craze for hot soup is either when they are not feeling well, or it's freezing cold outside. Apart from the practical reasons for pho's existence in Vietnam - that the weather is always scorching hot, it is important to have sufficient water and salt intake - I think it is just plain and simple why everyone's addicted to pho, IT TASTES GOOD! And until the day J achieves this enlightment, Gourmet Gal's incredible adventures shall continue.

PICTURE OF A WHITE LOTUS PASTE MOONCAKE WITH DOUBLE YOKES (in response to the last comment)

2006-10-16T11:26:00.000-07:00

Red beans are red.
Lotus roots are beige.
Mooncakes are tricky.
And so are the Chinese.

Red bean paste has a maroon to brown color and tastes slightly grainy and heavier than the cream colored lotus paste. It also tends to be cheaper than the lotus version. That being sad, it is totally possible that you've been tricked by my cousins in California.

Q & A SESSION

2006-10-13T08:43:00.000-07:00

So what is a moon cake?

A moon cake is something of a mystical confection made by technologically advanced Asians from the moon. They are typically round or rectangular puck-shaped pastries. The relatively thin, chewy crust surrounds a rich, dense, filling of sweet bean or nut paste with salted yokes - totally freaking awesome. They are almost always savored in small wedges with green tea while viewing the full moon with your dysfunctional family during the mid-Autumn festival. Modern variations of moon cakes have a glutinous rice skin, similar to that of a mochi. These addictive freaks-of-nature are known as "snow-skin moon cakes" or "ice-skin moon cakes".

In the early nineties, Haagen-Dazs followed on this innovation and created ice-cream moon cakes. I myself have released a restraining order against them for fear of an overdose. Because of the high lard content in traditional moon cakes (well why do you think they taste so good?), there are healthier versions of moon cakes made with yogurt, jelly, and sacrilegious fat-free ice cream. In my opinion, pork fat rules. And seriously, If you want to be a real Asian, you gotta eat the nasty stuff.

During the mid-Autumn festival which falls around early or mid October - depending on the moon calendar, you can find moon cakes in Chinese supermarkets and bakeries. They come in colorful tin boxes with drawings of super FOB (fresh-of-the-boat) looking girls on them. Check the expiration dates carefully since the rich fillings are prone to spoilage. I tend to buy the locally produced ones for fear of food poisoning.

MAKES THE JACK RABBIT STAND UP AND SMACK THE BEAR!

2006-10-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

NICKI'S PIZZA

108-26 ASCAN AVENUE
FOREST HILLS, NY 11375
718-263-1126

I am such a lucky girl.
I live within walking distance of the best pizza parlor in the borough.
Nick's pizza is no joke.
Even at the end of the meal.
I was blown away, oh like, 100 feet.
By a phenomenal canola!

As I'm writing this, my mouth is yielded with the memorable taste of quality fresh mozzarella, tangy tomato sauce, vibrant basil leaves, and big, round, slices of sultry Italian meatballs. My sensory memory is so aroused that it's practically having a seizure.

I AM SO TOTALLY GOING BACK AGAIN!

Located in the heart of beautifully historic Forest Hill section of Queens, Nick's Pizza provides a reasonably priced amazing dining experiences for both adults and children. This famed spot has the look of a casually hip, much-talked-about Park Slope-ish hangout. The combination of wood paneled floors, copper tinted ceiling, and original artwork showcased in antique frames made me feel instantly upgraded to a higher place.

Yuppy couples with their even yuppier children dined on the 70s style tables watching Latino men in starched white chef uniforms, expertly maneuvering oven open flames in the open kitchen. The little girl (literally dressed in a red riding hood) from next table stood on her chair and stared at me with her smart blue eyes. I smiled at her and imagined her asking me in the most tender voice, "So do you rent or own?"

Thank God she didn't.

The menu was classic and straight forward. Small ($11) or large ($13) pies with various selections of toppings at $2 each. We decided quickly.

LARGE PIE WITH HALF MEATBALLS & HALF MUSHROOM TOOPINGS($15)

Our waitress was pleasant and efficient. The pie arrived in less than ten minutes. Its surface oozed with glisten and permeated with aroma. I bit into the crusty thin bottom, and everything just harmonized and melted in my mouth. The mozzarella was so fresh that I could literally hear the cows mooing. Light and packed with intensity, this pizza was definitely one of the best I've ever had. And I highly recommend the intensely flavored meatball topping.

Three slices and a doggy bag later, I was ready for a bit of sweets. The dessert menu was also simple. Canoli ($4.50), Tiramisu ($5.5), Brownie ($3.5), and Junior's Cheesecake ($4.00).

You guessed it right, J wanted the cheesecake. BUT WHY WOULD YOU WANT A JUNIOR'S CHEESECAKE AT AN ITALIAN PIZZERIA?! So I went ahead and ordered the followings for us. Too bad.

Canoli
Tiramisu
Cappuccino

The Canoli arrived in a small oval cream ceramic plate. Very Euro-chic. Chopped pistachios and powder sugar sprinkled on top of the soft cream seeping out of the canola shell presented a cheerful visual. I picked it up gingerly and gave it a shot.

I thought I saw angels.

My world had been forever changed by this little devil.

IT WAS MIRACULOUS!

The shell was as delightful and luminous as Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. It carried no weight and imparted a delicate elegance. The filling tasted tender, milky, and saucy as hell. I was almost in tears by the time I finished the plate. It was indeed the most amazing canola I've ever had.

I AM SO TOTALLY COMING BACK AGAIN!

In comparison, the tiramisu was merely excellent. Lightly sweet cream covered a spongy layer of cake. Very tasty and satisfying. I sipped at my steaming, smooth cappuccino and beamed at J, while he stared jealously at the little red riding hood licking at her Junior's cheesecake. Hey, no one said it was going to be easy. And the life of an aspiring profession eater's spouse surely sucked even more. Or does it?

HAPPY MID-AUTUMN FESTIVAL, EVERYONE!

2006-10-06T11:26:00.000-07:00

Sure enough, it's that time of the year again. Have fun gorging moon cakes and pomeloes tonight! As for the origins of this Chinese holiday, check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mid-Autumn_Festival

THE CHEAPEST PLACE TO GET AWAY WITHOUT CROSSING THE BORDER

2006-09-28T09:32:00.000-07:00

FIESTA MEXICANA

75-02 Roosevelt Ave @ 75th Street
Jackson Heights, NY 11372
718-505-9090

We've peeked inside this charming Mexican restaurant many times on our way to the Jackson Diner. This Monday night, I finally said to J that it was time for us to try it. Stepping inside, we were greeted by the terracotta tiled floor and cheerful Mexican pop songs. The waitress let us pick our seats and we settled into a fabric-upholstered booth where two diligent young cooks were in full view from the open kitchen. Everything had the warm impression of a family dinning room. It felt as if we happened to drop by a friend's house and her mom just pulled out two empty plates for us to join in their dinner in progress.

The appetizer section featured simple dishes like guacamole and tamales. The main platters consisted of varied affairs of grilled meat and fish. There were also hand-written notes of today's specials in Spanish without any English translations. "Do you know what they are?" I asked J hopefully. On more than one occasion, he had claimed that he spoke some Spanish. J squinted to read the menu then nodded quickly. "Some sort of soup."
"What kind of soup?"
He shrugged, "Dunno."

Gees, that was informative.

I inquired our waitress on the specials and she smiled.
"Order?" Her pen and notebook were ready in her hands.
"Can you tell me what the specials are?" She smiled some more and winked at us.
"Preparado?" She pointed to the menu enthusiastically.

Great. She doesn't speak English. This is going to be harder than I thought.

I looked to J for help and he swiftly hurled himself to hide behind the menu. I pointed at a random listing, "Cal do de Camaron? What's this?"
"Ah! Soup." She seemed relieved that I picked this particular item.
"What kind of soup?" I was intrigued. She stared at me for another minute before realizing that it was a question.
"Uno minuto!" Our lovely waitress lifted up her index finger and disappeared into the back.I glanced at J. He looked so thoroughly immersed in the menu.
"Didn't you say you spoke Spanish?" I demanded.
"I did! I mean I do speak Spanish! Didn't I tell you that it was soup earlier!" J looked sincerely insulted.

Five minutes later, the waitress returned with a winning smile."Eh, shrimp. Shrimp soup." Oh, I love shrimp soup! That was worth the wait.I gave her the go ahead and we ordered quickly.

TAMALES RANCHEROS (corn chicken tamales) $2.95
CALDO DE CAMARON (shrimp soup) $7.95
POLLO A LA PARRILA (marinated boneless chicken breast served with Mexican rice and
beans) $9.95
COCHINITA PIBIL (marinated roasted pork wrapped in banana leaves) $11.95
MELON JUICE $2.50
GINGER ALE $1.50

She walked away briskly and returned with my melon juice and“Caldo De Camaron". The blonde drink had the faintly sweet taste of a Russian melon, kind of like a watered-down Mountain Dew without the bubbles. Not really my cup of tea. The aroma rising from the piping hot soup was enticing. Inside the big bowl, at least a dozen of plump peeled shrimps curled up their ripe bodies and swam contently in the tomato-colored broth with irregular pieces of coyotes, carrots, celery, and peas. I took a spoonful of the broth.

YUM!

Another mouthful of everything, my eyes lit up and my body erected. It was intensely savory and packed with Latin passion. The shrimps were so fresh and crunchy that they literally popped in my mouth. Very nice! I could probably do without all the flavorless veggies though. Somehow they tasted bland and really only provided some colors to the visual.

J's "Pollo a la Parrila" came in a big oval plate with two pieces of grilled boneless skinless chicken breasts on top of Mexican rice, and a small salad comprised of shredded iceberg lettuce, slices of tomato and avocados. Hum, not exactly what it promised on the menu (chicken breast served with rice and beans). The rice was flavorful but the chicken breasts turned out to be just a notch better than the chicken platter you would have gotten from Ranch 1.

Our waitress appeared suddenly. "No Cochinita Pibil!" She looked sincerely apologetic.

WHAT?! I TOTALLY CAME HERE FOR THAT!

She handed me the domed menu again. "What would you recommend? Any other specialty from the house?" I still had hope.
She smiled and shook her head gently, "Yes, no more Cochinita Pibil! Oh, excuse one minuto" she lifted up that index finger again and disappeared into the kitchen.

Finally, after ten minutes of miming and her frequent intervals of attending to other customers, I decided to be brave and picked something that looked like fish from the specials.

FILET DE PESADO AL MOJO DE AJO (grilled fish filet) $11.98

The tamale arrived with the alluring fragrance of banana leaves. Both me and J inhaled deeply into the steam.
"Piquante?" The waitress gestured to the tamale and inquired.
"What?" I was really lost.
"Piquante? You want?" She asked again patiently.
"Pecan!" J suddenly exclaimed.

SAY WHAT?!

Our now-exhausted waitress nodded fervently to the sound that J made. "I bring!" She hurried into the back.
J patted the back of my hand and beckoned with confidence. "Don't worry hon, she's going to bring you some pecans."

Pecans with tamale?! This was definitely an interesting combination which I've never heard of. The tamale was delicious by itself. It melt in my mouth with a fragrant aftertaste.

"Piquante!" The waitress came back and placed something onto our table with beaming eyes.

There were no pecans nor peacocks.

It was a little bottle of Sauce Piquante.

I looked up at J's surprised face and we both burst into laughter within seconds. "Hahaha! Pecans!" I laughed so heard that tears was running down my face. J rolled up the napkin and threw it at me for revenge. For the rest of the night, we couldn't stop giggling and eating. The light gradually dimmed and the Spanish music in the background got a little louder. Suddenly, I had the illusion that we were not in Queens any more. We were in Mexico on vacation, just relaxing and having fun in a local dive where no one spoke English; kind of like, you know, the opening scene of “Mr. and Mrs. Smith”.

"Filet de Pesado Al Mojo de Ajo" arrived when we almost polished everything else. It turned out to be the same disappointing matter as the "Pollo a la Parrila", bland and safe. Definitely not something I would order again.

The dessert menu was simple. Two Mexican specialties and chocolate or strawberry cake. I wanted something that would thrill me a little.

CREPAS DE CAJETA (handmade crepes served in a goat's milk caramel sauce) $4.
COFFEE WITH MILK $1.50

Minutes later, three little tan crepes folded into neat triangles came on a warm plate pooled in thick amber sauce. It looked appetizing. I eagerly took a bite. The crepe dissolved instantly on my tongue while the ample caramel sauce lingered on my teeth teasingly. It had the right balance of light and heavy, sweet and savory. Just what I liked in a dessert. I took a sip of the smooth coffee and savored the entire plate.

The night had turned pitch dark by the time we left the restaurant. A line gathered in front of a street cart selling Authentic Chinese Food. I stretched out my neck to see what was on the menu. The corner Pakistan restaurant was having a Ramadan special. Deafening noises from the subway roared overhead. Ah, we were not in Mexico on vacation after all. But somehow I felt refreshed after the meal. This was where I came thousands of miles for. This was my diverse, rich and delectable nation of Queens, New York.

NOT BADDA BING'S 3RD COUSIN, I SWEAR

2006-09-21T10:20:00.000-07:00

SHAKE SHACK

Madison Square Park southeast corner
Enter @ Madison Avenue and 23rd Street
212-889-6600

It seemed like I was the last person on earth who had not been to the Shake Shack. When I revealed the destination of my next review, even J blurted out surprisingly, "You've NEVER been to the Shake Shack?" ? He stared at me as if I were some evil clone of his lovely wife. Fine. Be that way. Let's just, go now.

We arrived at the park on a Monday night. The air was crisp with my favorite autumn breeze and the line to order was miraculously short. I was told that during the lunch rush, people wait on line for up to 45 minutes before even getting their food, giving them only fifteen minutes to eat and get back to work. Under the precious Manhattan trees, couples and groups of friends occupied the metal chairs around the shack munching heartily out of big cardboard boxes, while their waiting dogs licked their mouths anxiously. The whole scene had the feel of a happy zoo outing. I instantly loved the casual atmosphere.

The menu displayed five kinds of burgers, three types of hot dogs, and two varieties of French fries; very straight forward and all at reasonable prices. We settled on the order quickly.

CHEESEBURGER (SINGLE $3.69)
SHACK BURGER (SINGLE $4.38)
CHICAGO DOG ($2.77)
FRENCH FRIES ($2.08)
LARGE COKE ($1.85)

No shake?!

I'm glad you're paying attention. After carefully studying the separate board of countless shakes, floats, concretes (frozen custard blended in high speed with homemade mix-ins), and the "custard calendar," I decided to come back later for dessert.

The service was pleasant and relatively fast. It was a nice night, we stood under the swaying trees pretending it was our first date. Ten minutes later, before J was able to put any moves on me, the food was there.

Everything came neatly packed in a cardboard box. We dug in eagerly. First impression? Friendly. Friendly, in that happy American way. The Shack burger had lettuce, tomato, American cheese, and shack sauce on it. I could barely taste the shack sauce, which according to the cashier, was supposed to be a blend of mayonnaise + ketchup + mustard + ground onion + lemon juice. Although juicy, tasty, and even with a hint of my favorite charcoal smoke, the meat patty was a little too thin to my liking. But I guess that was why they had the double stack version.

The fries were the thick, wavy-cut types, and they turned out to be perfectly seasoned and crispy. Very nice. The Chicago Dog was an all-beef dog on a poppy seed bun, topped with lettuce, tomato, sport peppers, green peppers, pickles, onion, neo relish, cucumber, celery salt and mustard. ("Drag it through the park!" the menu exclaimed). I took a giant bite in order to get all the hot dog's entourage in my mouth. Hmmmm. It tasted like, like an 80's wild party. All the savory mysterious meat danced abundantly with spicy peppers and relish, while the rascally sour pickle seduced straight-jacked lettuce & tomato, with mustard as his partner in crime. A handful of life force partied ecstatically under the poppy seed roof.

I hate the 80's.

Growing up in Taiwan, my memory of that whole decade was filled with endless exams and unbearable pressures to get into top schools, instead of decadence and fun. I also like my hot dog only with mustard and nothing else. But this ..., I curled up the corners of my mouth and savored all the characters inside. This totally took me by surprise. This was great! I thought about how much my teenage years must have missed by burying myself into books and took another hearty bite for revenge. J tried it and instantly nodded his head and widened his eyes, "Wow, this is GOOD!" I knew it. Of course he liked it. The 80's was like the best time for him. No worries, no grown-up crap, just plain fun. God, I hate American kids! They don't realize how good they have it.

After the satisfying meal, I was in full gear for my frozen custard. Today's flavors were, vanilla, chocolate and cinnamon toast (Yikes!). J is lactose intolerant, so I went ahead.

SINGLE DIP VANILLA FROZEN CUSTARD ($2.54)

The custard was amazingly dense and fine-textured. The exuberant taste of fresh dairy was so creamy that I fantasized about smearing it all over my body for nourishment. It was just what one needed after a robust burger! I also loved the fact that it was not too sweet nor watery (That's right, I'm talking about you "Tasti D'lite"!). It turned out to be one of the best frozen custard I have ever had.

We strolled down the street after I licked the last bit of cream off of my finger. The air was still pleasant and cool. I leaned against J's chest and felt blissfully content. Before we entered the subway, J caught my glowing eyes and slowly leaned forward, "Can I have that kiss now?" I closed my eyes and let the thrilling little tingles run all over my body.

Yeah, I missed out on the 80's, but I make up for it by living my life right now! And guess what, on the custard calendar, it said that every Wednesday of this month is FIG SHAKE!!!! MAJOR GODZILLA-SIZE... YUMMM!

I'LL BE YOUR LITTLE BITCH, KETTLE CORN NYC!

2006-09-12T15:06:00.000-07:00

KETTLE CORN NYC
http://kettlecornnyc.com/index.html

It all started out very innocently.

Summer time in NYC. You stroll down the plentiful street fairs in your flip flops and felt ecstatic to finally kick off that pair of snow stained dirty boots. You munch on the whopping $3 cup of watermelon and even smile at the pushy tourists next to you. Within the smell of greasy sausage and fake pad-Thai, you sniff something delicious. You follow the trail and find the red tented Kettle Corn NYC stand. A huge line has already accumulated before you. You sneak to the front and sample the original flavor. The buttery caramel popcorns tangled with sea salt hops in your mouth with passionate vitality. This ain't no ordinary popcorn! You sample some more, one handful, another fistful, and finally decide to buy a bag for your Netflix viewing tonight. On the train ride home, you smell the enticing sweet whiff seeping out from the bag and battle with the weakness of the flesh. But you are only human! You dive in and surrender to the whole bag before even reaching for your keys. You can barely remember what Netflix DVD you watched that night. The next day, you wake up with the sweet memory and sultry taste in your mouth. You can't stop thinking about it all day. You must have it again! Only then you realized that you didn't know where s/he lived nor did you have his/her number! The worst of all, at the heat of the passion, YOU THREW THE BAG AWAY!! So you spend the rest of the day dodging your boss and googling Kettle Corn NYC to download their street fair schedules and count the days when you'll meet again while vowing to never touch any other popcorn ever again! (baby, there are just ho's! But you are my LAA-DY!)

Ever heard of KCA (Kettle Corn Anonymous)???

HAVE YOU HAD YOUR BOWL OF BEEF NOODLE SOUP TODAY?

2006-09-06T11:09:00.000-07:00

KING FIVE NOODLE OF ELMHURST INC.

82-39 BROADWAY
ELMHURST NY 11373

Could there be a light I'm seeing at the end of this tunnel?

"Before we go in,”my hubby pinched the space in between his eyebrows with his thumb and index fingers to emulate the phrase “Im deeply concerned and … scared at the same time” in that classic “actors studio” acting technique. “I want you to set your expectations low. Zero. Nada. Otherwise, lets go to a place we know is good.” It was Monday night at 9pm. He just finished work, while I spent the whole day googling the word “meat buns” and perfecting my eyebrows. Poor thing. I crossed my heart and promised to behave like a Stepford wife for the remainder of the night.

J's got some points though. We've passed this place numerous times since moving into the neighborhood. I was tempted to try but never really did it, mainly because this place boasted“excellent beef noodle soup.” Now, let me tell you a little something about my culture. Taiwan is THE capital of the beef noodle soup kingdom. Walk down any random alley blindfolded and you will be sure to find at least a dozen beef noodle soup stands. Movie stars from Hong Kong, Japan, and Korea make bee lines to their favorite beef noodle soup places right off the plane when they arrive in Taiwan. Sometimes even before any public appearances they have been paid to attend. (Don't ask me if Mr. Chow Yun Fat was standing on that line to get in. Go watch the trailer for his current role in "Curse of the Golden Flower." There is even an annual Taipei International Beef Noodle Festival to showcase the best bowls of these delectable beauties and promote healthy competitions among the countless beef noodle soup restaurants.

Now this being said, I knew that the place would not be up to my standard. But I was willing to give it a shot, and I promised J that he could order anything he wanted.

The place was pleasantly spare. The round-faced waitress greeted us warmly with English. I could tell by her accent that she is from Taiwan. A GOOD SIGN! I inquired about the menu in Chinese and she looked slightly startled to hear such sounds coming out of my mouth, but none the less recommended their signature dishes. “Do they have pork chops and rice?” J flipped the menu back and forth wildly. NOW WHY WOULD A BEEF NOODLE SOUP PLACE HAVE … OH, WAIT, HERE IT IS, Pork chop over rice. A promise is a promise. I bit my lips and ordered the followings for us.

SPICY NOODLE SOUP WITH BAISED BEEF
PORK CHOP OVER RICE
BEEF WITH SESAME CAKE
FRIED BUNS WITH CHIVES & EGGS
COKE
TEA

“The fried buns with chive & eggs will take fifteen minutes. The chef makes it fresh. Is it okay?” The waitress informed us. HAND MADE FRESH?! Oh, YEAH! We'll wait the whole night if necessary!

To start the meal, the waitress brought us two small bowls of soup. “On the house,” She beamed. I LOVE MY PEOPLE! The soup turned out to be the very tasty “4 spirits soup” which consisted of little pieces of remedial Chinese herbs, slivers of black mushrooms, and chucks of chicken meat. I have not had this soup for over two years! It brought back so many memories. J was not so fond of the soup. I didn't blame him. Not everyone likes that faint Chinese herbal taste.

“Beef with Sesame Cake” turned out to be slices of braised five spice beef shank with julienne cucumber + scallions wrapped in a large sheet of scallion pancake smeared with tangy Peking duck sauce. We both took a piece and dove into a giant bite. Smiles everywhere. IT WAS A HUGE HIT! The pancake was lightly crunchy on the outside and pleasantly chewing on the inside. The beef melted in your mouth with a naughty kick of my favorite five spices. J finished his and immediately claimed the last piece on the plate as his breakfast for the next morning.

All was good so far.

My beef noodle soup came with a jar of pickled sour cabbage, the way it was supposed to be. I placed a spoonful of the cabbage inside the soup and took a tentative sip of the glistening broth, HOT! My eyes lit up. VERY NICE! There is nothing that I HATE MORE than eating a bowl of LUKEWARM SOUP! Soup has to be hot! I proudly inherited this gift from my Cantonese mother, and we all know that the Cantonese people are notoriously obsesses with hot soup! (There is even a “hot soup club”, consisted of five very lively old Chinese ladies in my mom's building.) I took a bite of the noodle. Hum, not hand made, a bit on the limp side. I chewed on a piece of beef with amber colored tendon in the middle. Good. Better than I expected.

“How was it?” J was curious. “Your zero expectations theory worked,” I said. He grinned with delight.

J's pork chop over rice came with a piece of crisply browned chop, sautéed spinach with garlic, and a soy sauce marinated hard-boiled egg. I glanced at it and felt a wave of nostalgia washing over me. It looked like the countless lunch boxes I had growing up! J and I both reached for the chop. I eagerly gnawed the meat on the bone. Proficient. J nodded and gave it a thumbs up.

The “fried buns with chives & eggs” was really what we called, “Chive Box”. It arrived piping hot, but I was disappointed after taking a mouthful. The filling was too watered-down for me. Back home, the chive boxes were PACKED with, well…chives! Here, it was only a couple of chopped chives with lots of other crap. I understand that Chinese chives stink, but some of us happen to like scandals! It's a good thing I've never developed that fine Disney taste.

After leaving the restaurant with a delightfully full stomach, I felt glad that we gave it a shot. “We should come back for breakfast one day!” I announced gleefully. The menu stated that every Saturday and Sunday morning they serve Northern Chinese country style brunch, which consisted of deep fried cruller, sesame cake, sticky rice roll, pancake with eggs, all sorts of dumplings, and home made soy milk (choice of hot/cold/sweet/salty/with raw egg yoke). J carefully avoided eye contact and mumbled, “will there be anything I can eat?”

Love is to love someone without judging what they eat …

"ENDLESS FEASTS - SIXTY YEARS OF WRITING FROM GOURMET" EDITED BY RUTH REICHL

2006-08-31T08:56:00.000-07:00

A must read for anyone who loves food! I had so much fun devouring all the vividly written stories.

AREA WOMAN THINKS NOTHING BUT BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF THE CHEF AT THE CRAPPY THAI PAN-ASIAN & SUSHI BAR ALL DAY

2006-08-29T12:52:00.000-07:00

BLUE CHILI
251 WEST 51 ST.
NEW YORK NY 10019

I should have known better. Any place that bills itself as “Thai Pan-Asian & Sushi Bar” is simply going through some intense identity crisis, or taking advantage of affirmative action to charge more for its supposedly exotic food.

I have no idea what propelled me to try this place with my gastronomic soul mate/ best friend L this weekend. Perhaps it was the gloomy weather, perhaps it was the ABBA overdose (they play it ALL DAY at my job!), I suggested that we have dinner there. L is my favorite person to eat with in the whole entire world. We share the same exact view on food (the two big Qs: quality + quantity), and almost always have a smashingly bedazzled fabulous girly time together, devouring and gossiping. But this time, we both got the horrible blue chill from the Blue Chili.

The place was decorated in a futuristic all-white design with half a dozen good-looking tender-aged Asian waiters/waitresses in black uniforms, resembling the set of a Hong Kong romantic comedy flick. Half way into reading the menu, L’s face turned horribly green.

“Are you okay?” She stared back at me with equally concerned face.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. What’s up with the blue face?”

As if on cue, we looked up at the ceiling and realized that the recess light was rotating rainbow spectrum colors every five minutes. I was relieved that none of us were mysteriously sick but utterly annoyed by the nausea-evoking effect. Everything on the menu read pricey and a bit on the pretentious side. L was not super hungry and fancied the lobster salad. “I want to know how big is the salad.” The sleek waiter answered the question with a simulated smile and mimed his hands into a 9 inch plate. “Big.”

“Is it enough for an entry?” L wanted to be absolutely sure. See, I told you we were soul mates. “Yes, enough.” He glanced at my voluptuous friend up and down and proclaimed confidently, “For you.” With that confirmed, we decided quickly.

PEKING DUCK ROLL (roasted duck, cucumber, scallion and mandarin pancake)
SPICY LOBSTER SALAD (fried lobster, mixed seasonal fruit, baby green salad and chili cream dressing)
DUCK TAMARIND SAUCE (boneless half duck served on grilled eggplant topped with tamarind sauce)
TIKI
WATER

L’s “Tiki” turned out to be a pleasantly fruity raspberry puree cocktail. However her Peking duck roll was less desirable. It tasted stale and totally not worth $8. No offense, BUT THE DINGY LITTLE SNACK SHACK BY MY MOM’S APARTMENT MAKES BETTER DUCK ROLLS THAN THIS PLACE! We had more fun poking at the garlic chive bud, which was meant to be a decoration on the plate than eating the roll.

My “Duck Tamarind Sauce” came in a gianormous shallow bowl. I love huge plates. And this is the kind I fantasized about using if I were to cook an entire piglet. Two pieces of duck breasts and one duck leg looked promisingly enticing in the glistening brown sauce. I took an eager bite. Hum. The tamarind sauce had just the right balance of sweet, sour and savory. Another bite. Ooh, ah. The duck was tough and greasily fatty. You see, this is when someone (I’m not a scientist, but I think in this case, it would be...THE CHEF!) had to make a decision on things. As we say in Chinese, “it’s shady to put your left foot on one boat and the right foot on another.” CHOOSE! Either make the duck melt-in-your mouth medium rare OR corruptly falling-of-the bone decadent. Leaving your patron in the sphere of limbo by cooking the meat into a leathery bloody mess is NEVER a good idea! I moved the duck aside and found something crispy on the bottom of the plate. Apparently the “grilled eggplant” described in the dish meant fried dough similar to the free crispy noodles they give out at Chinese restaurants as appetizers. WHAT THE HELL?! L sampled the dish and simply announced, “Hum.”

Both of our jaws dropped onto the floor when L’s lobster salad arrived. The neo orange cubes of lobster nestled uncomfortably in a square whiskey glass, crowded with a fake banana leaf, and once again, garlic chive bud as decorations. WHERE THE *&^% IS THE SALAD?! The slick waiter pointed to the two pieces of mal-nutritional endive leafs, while bringing on a pile of pyramid shaped rice in a small dipping sauce for me.

“Spei-cia lice.” He did two perfect flicks of the eyebrow.

I wondered if he faked the accent to legitimize the authenticity of the special rice. L tasted her lobster salad and wiped her mouth politely. I sampled it and thought about my favorite episode of “Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmare”. In one segment, Ramsey stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth and promptly spit it out. He then folded it into his napkin and handed it to the horrified cute blonde waitress with a tempted pat on the bum. “Sweet heart, fetch me the chef and, throw this garbage into the plant for me, will ya?”

I had zero desire of touching any part of that robotic waiter’s bony ass, but I did fantasized about the other part. IT WAS BOILED LOBSTER CHUNKS IN MAYONAISE AND HOT SAUCE! L desperately chewed on the endive leaf for her daily vegetable intakes. “What made him think that this is big enough for an entry?” We caught sight of the next table of three hollow-eyed flamingo looking bitches sipping their Avian and realized why. He was probably used to pathetic girls who don’t eat! I offered the three colored rice (white, yellow, with specs of black) to L and took a forkful myself. Quite tasty! We gobbled down the rest of the two bites in despair.

Maybe the desserts were good, I held on to that last glimpse of light. We decided to share one just in case.

TASTING CRÈME BRULEE
DECAF COFFEE FOR TWO

While waiting for the dessert, L went to the ladies room. The waiter ran over here to refold her napkin as soon as she left the table. This act of bull shit only enraged me more. DUDE! THIS AIN’T NO DAVID BLAINE SHOW! FOCUS ON THE FOOD! WE CAN FOLD OUR OWN FRIGGIN’ NAKINS!!

L returned to the table looking somewhat refreshed. Our order of decaf coffee came in short see-through glasses with handles. The color of the coffee was even lighter than amber. We looked at each other’s green faces and promptly busted into laughter even before the waiter left. I knew it was bad behavior but, COME ON! How can you mix hot water with regular coffee and call it decaf?! The ridiculous drink tasted like lukewarm dirt water. “AND IT CAME IN A SEE-THROUGH GLASS WITH HANDLE!” L was having a very hard time letting go of the trauma.

The three mini crème brulees arrived in a long triangular white plate dusted with powdered sugar and one blueberry, one black berry, and half of a strawberry. It had more of the appearance of a science project than a dessert. I cracked the surface of the green tea flavored one, while L tackled on the coffee one. Alright. We both moved on to the vanilla. Capable. Overall, all three had the corrected tang to them. (Green tea tasted like green tea, vanilla tasted like vanilla, etc.) But that was about it, clinical, impersonal. No cuddling afterwards nor kisses the next morning. Just a cold, unaffectionate, lousy fuck.

We felt the place feeling lonely, used, and cheated out of the experience.

PUT THE BOWL DOWN, CHOW YUN FAT...PLEASE!

2006-08-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

Has anyone seen Chow Yun Fat lately?

For those of you who are not familiar with Chow Yun Fat, he is considered by most to be one of the greatest action stars to explode out of the Hong Kong film industry. In the 90's, Yun Fat and his partner, director John Woo, created such classics as A Better Tomorrow, The Killer, and Hard Boiled. The impact of these movies gave then a first class ticket to the West where they got lost in the Hollywood hustle and haven't collaborated since.

A month ago, while reading the Chinese newspaper (The World Journal), I came across the picture of Chow Yun Fat and showed it to my hubby. The well-fed, plump, Mr. Chow sported a basketball cap and grinned happily at the paparazzi in the photo. J was horrified.

“Is this …?” He scrambled to put on his black plastic rimmed glasses which made him look like a black Clark Kent.

“This can’t be the Chow Yun Fat! This dude is FAAAT!”

He took out a magnifying glass and studied the photo again like a cautious detective. The article described Chow Yun Fat’s current project “Curse of the Golden Flower” with director Zhang Yimou and his future plan in John Woo’s much anticipated war epic “Battle of the Red Cliff”. When J heard about the news of the two of his heroes from the East teaming up again after so many years, he was as thrilled as a child waiting to open his gift on Christmas morning. But seeing this photo shattered his world.

“Isn’t it time for Chow Yun Fat to have just one bowl of noodle soup instead of two?” He sounded desperate. "You're an action hero...Lose some weight!"

“It says here that Zhang Yimou had made extra efforts to pamper his star stubbed cast by hiring five chefs for this film’s craft service. One of the chefs even specializes in the Northern Chinese cuisines (think of more flour based delicacies: buns, noodles, and less of rice and soup) to suit Mr. Zhang’s taste. Considering most of Asian film sets provide only generic lunch boxes (sans chairs) to the actors, this film sure is blowing a lot of money on food,” I read to J.

“However, during lunch break of the first day of shooting, Chow Yun Fat was spotted by the paparazzi dining at a famed Beijing restaurant nearby with his manager. The two ordered seven dishes and Mr. Chow consumed them heartily. When Chow Yun Fat discovered the paparazzi, he waved to them warmly, while his manager hurried Yun Fat on to avoid more pictures of him eating being taken.” I finished the article and glanced up at J. His face looked ghostly.

“This could be the last time Yun Fat and Woo collaborate!” He muttered anxiously, somewhat in shock.

“Doesn’t Chow Yun Fat want his last hero image on screen to be great?!” J examined the photo again and sunk down to sigh loudly.

“PUT THE BOWL DOWN, YUN FAT!” J cried with such vigor and despair that even I was startled. I rubbed his head and poured him a glass of orange soda to calm him down. “Honey, high blood pressure.” He gulped the drink with an empty stare. “Why can’t people just be cool…” He mumbled indiscreetly.

I looked at the picture again. HUM, I WONDER WHAT THEY ORDERED?

THE CHEAPEST PLACE TO IMPRESS AND BRING YOUR FOREIGN MISTRESSES

2006-08-25T12:46:00.000-07:00

CORNER BISTRO
441 W4TH STREET
NEW YORK NY 10014

I had to find out what’s all these hoopla about. “Supposedly”, this place's hamburgers are rated number one in NYC by numerous food authorities.

WATCH OUT, CORNER BISTRO! THE LITTLE ANGRY GOURMET GAL IS AT IT AGAIN!

Me and J arrived at this little sports bar around 9pm on a Monday night. The line to get in stretched all the way out to the pavement. We waited for half an hour to be seated while the two very unattractive married American businessmen in front of us displayed their sloppy groping skills to their foreign mistresses in full view. GROSS! I tried to diverse my attention to the cook in the little cubbyhole (well, it’s the kitchen actually) flipping twelve chubby burgers on the grill. The two giant plasma TVs on the wall played sports news while 80's pop music loudly blasted. I scanned the room, it was packed with Manhattan frat boys and tourists who looked perpetually like they just won the lottery.

The burger better be worth it!

After settling down at the tiny table in the back, we looked up at the brick wall and studied the menu. Very simple and straight forward: burgers, fries, grilled cheese sandwiches, chili, and a whole separate board of for beers. Me and J agreed on the followings:

BISTRO BURGER
CHEESE BURGER
FRIES
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH (only because I read somewhere that it’s good)
COKE
DIET COKE

The Latin waiter took our order and left with a sarcastic smirk on his face. Ha! I knew the look! That “I’m totally judging you because you don’t drink” look! J reminded me again about my conspiracy paranoia as I was about to stick my index finger up. Fine, if the burgers were not up to its hype, I’m just going to slap the shit out of that loud drunk girl next table.

The bistro burger came with lettuce, tomato, onion, and a thick strip of bacon. Yum! I picked up the bacon and the alarm went off!

WHY IS THE BACON COLD?!

I removed the bacon while J was busy pouring the entire bottle of ketchup onto his cheese burger. Tentatively, I took a bite. Oh! Another bite. Hey! My eyes relaxed and my jaw expanded. Very nice. The burger was juicy and flavorful. I was also pleasantly surprised that they put the ring of onion beneath the patty. Somehow it provided the support for the hefty beef and sent off a sweet after taste. Not bad. Not bad at all. I took another bite while J eyed the ketchup bottle lounging seductively next to him.

Americans!

The fries were the thin kind. I kind of wished they were a bit hotter and crisper, but it didn’t bother me that much. Half way into my burger, I decided that it was time for me to try the grilled cheese sandwich. I munched on it, and all my blissful serenity went flying out of the window.

THIS IS A JOKE! IT HAS TO BE A JOKE!

The grilled cheese sandwich tasted like, a single-armed blind child from China had made it. Call me mean, but anyone with their head attached to their neck can put two slices of American cheese and bread together and heat it up in the microwave. I took another bite and promptly spit it out. This thing cost $4 dollars that I'll never see again. Horror emerged from J’s eyes, (his inner thoughts: OH NO! NOW I HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT THIS ALL NIGHT!) I was enraged.

GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MY ASS!

Ever heard of “Croque Monsieur”? Those decadently sinful French grilled cheese sandwiches that make you want to make out with your annoying boss? This country totally needs to loosen up, seek more pleasures in life, and learn to be more like these European bastards.

As we step out of the place, the two very unattractive, married, now dead drunk American business men were still outside pinching their mistresses' butts. But somehow it didn’t bother me as much. The burgers were indeed very good, and I would totally recommend it to anyone. Just don’t get the grilled cheese sandwich.

Oh, yeah, J liked it, too.

YAO MING SHUNS SHARK FIN SOUP

2006-08-22T22:35:00.000-07:00

Has anyone read that the baseball player Yao Ming announced that he’s sworn off shark fin soup and Disney decided to give up its plan on serving shark fin soup at its Hong Kong theme park?

Unbelievable.

WHAT HAS THIS WORLD COME TO NOW, I ASK THE GOD OF COOKERY ONCE AGAIN?!

Well, actually, contrary to public opinions, I AM AGAINST SHARK FIN SOUP (AS WELL AS WEARING FUR FOR THAT MATTER). I had it once in Taiwan (the soup, not the fur) when we went to a fancy wedding banquet. It tasted fishy, gooey and I didn’t like it. So there you go.

GOOD FOR YOU YAO!

IF ONE MORE PERSON ASKS ME ABOUT MY DUMPLING RECIPE, I’M GOING TO …

2006-08-22T22:29:00.000-07:00

I’m going to …, I’m going to call my mom and stalk her for the recipe.

Here it goes. With love to our friends B&M from the West coast!

NAPA CABBAGE PORK DUMPLINGS (A.K.A. JIAOZI)

Ingredients:

For the dough:

8 cups all purpose flour
2 1/2 cups ice cold water

For the fillings:

2 pound ground pork
2 TB soy sauce
2 teaspoon salt
2 TB Chinese cooking wine
2 teaspoon ground fresh ginger
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
3 TB sesame oil
1 TB vegetable oil

1 small head of shredded Napa cabbage
1 teaspoon salt

For the dipping sauce:

Pick and mix the following depending on your preference -

Soy sauce, Chinese rice vinegar, minced garlic, sesame oil, hot sauce, even pinch of sugar if you‘re sweet.

Preparation:

Slowly stir cold water into the flour in three stages. Mix well with chopsticks. Make sure you get all the flour sticking on the sides of the bowl.

Then, in my mom’s exact words: “Applying the same strength you relied on as a baby sucking on your mother’s nipples”, use your hand to sperate and knead the dough into two smooth balls. You know it’s done when your mom squeals for pain, no, I mean when there’s no more dough left sticking on neither your hands, nor the bowl. Native Beijinese call this “three shining”. Bowl shines, hand shines, and of course, the dough shines.

Cover a damp cheesecloth over the doughs for 30 minutes (in two speperate bowls). This is called “waking up the dough”. It will make the wrappers chewy with energy later.

In the mean time, scatter 1 teaspoon salt over the shredded Napa cabbage and leave it alone. (Suggested activities during this time: reading my blog or just slap your pet for no particular reason). Come back in 5 minutes to squeeze out and discard the accumulated juice from the cabbage. Mix in the ground pork and seasonings. Stir well.

When the dough is “awake”, (don’t be startled if it utters the sound, “Zao!” It simply means “Good Morning” in Mandarin) place it onto a floured surface. Press the dough ball down and roll it forward with the heel of your palm three times. Turn the dough 90 degrees and repeat the same motion. When the dough has the touch of a baby’s smooth skin, then it’s done.

Press your thumb into the middle of the dough ball until it forms into a doughnut form. Squeeze it bit by bit with both palms to stretch the dough into a 1 inch diametered long suaage shape. Divide it into two long logs. Cut sections every 3" to 4”. Scatter 1/2 teaspoon all purpose flour over these babes and roll them gently to prevent them from sticking.

Use a small wooden rolling pin (I like the size of 3” diameter) to roll each dough ball into a round wrapper (about 3" diameter). Gently nudge the dough forward with your left hand while moving the pin back and forth with the right hand. It’s preferred that the center is slightly thicker than the edges.

HEY! WHAT’S THAT IN YOUR HAND?! A CHINESE TAKE-OUT MENU? PUT IT DOWN, WE’RE ALMOST THERE!

Place about 1 TB of filling into the center of the wrapper. Wet the edges with water. Close the center lightly. Using the thumb and index finger to fold the far end of the dumpling. Then making a pleat with the opening gap. Do the same on the other side. They should be able to sit up like well-fed plump babies. If all these sound too Chinese to u, then for God’s sake, just fold it into a half moon and be done with this.

To Cook:

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add the dumplings in (be careful not to overcrowd them) and stir gently so they don‘t stick together. Bring the water to boil, add ½ cup of cold water, cover and turn the heat down to medium flame. Repeat again. When the dumplings come to a boil for a third time, they are done. Drain and remove.

To Eat:

Place the chop sticks between your index and middle fingers while anchoring with your thumb. Pick up one dumpling, open your mouth -

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT, YOU GET THE POINT.

And some say it’s easier to make a film than dumplings ...

WILL YOU MARRY ME, BOON CHU THAI PLACE?

2006-08-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

BOON CHU THAI PLACE
83-18 Broadway
Elmhurst, NY 11373

Yes, that’s right. If you read my last posting, then you’ll know that I need one spouse for purposes which are none of your business, and the other one for healing my wounded bitchy perky ass. And don’t you judge me now. Sometimes, there’s only one place on earth you would rather be, and it sure ain‘t Kansas for a little gong-banging yellow girl from Taiwan like me.

WILL YOU MARRY ME, BOON CHU TAHI PLACE TWICE?

The night we got there, the place was packed with all sorts of young ABAs (American Born Asians, a.k.a. All kinds of chinks). They chatted heartily and struggled to order the dishes on the menu with heavy ’R’s pronunciations. I giggled at their efforts then realized that I didn’t know how to speak Thai either. Oh, well. At least I didn‘t make an ass out of myself.

J was patient, as usual. “Order whatever would get you out of that cranky mood.” I looked up at the chalk board for today’s special. Soft Shell Crab and something rather fishy in Thai. Uh, oh. It’s always that dish they wouldn’t translate into English that’s the best. My eyes lit up and nipples hardened.

The vaguely Jackie Chan look-alike owner greeted us like old friends. I inquired the mysterious dish on the board. He frowned, wrinkled his nose, and finally smiled then shook his head. “It’s Thai cat fish. We buy whole, take only the meat, throw the bones, then chop them.” He gestured the word “chopping” with a martial artist‘s finesse. “We mix the meat flat and fry them so they puff up.” His whole body nearly leapt up and his eyes beamed a la Gordon Ramsey after the much anticipated action “puff up”. Now here was the interesting part, he looked at me and instantly all the previous fervor was wiped off of his face. He said firmly, “You won’t like it.”

HA! VERY VERY INTERESTING!! WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT?

He proceeded by waving his head and shaking his head “no” several times to make sure I got it.
“ Too much work.” I sensed skepticism. I smelled desperation. I wanted to order it just because. J looked sincerely sorry for this poor man at the mercy of his lovely, beautiful wife. I gave the owner one long glance.

THEN WHY DID YA PUT IT ON THE SPECILAL BOARD THEN, HOMIE?!

Alright, it was close to 10 pm and I decided to cut him a break. I ordered simple.

SOFT SEHLL CRAB IN CHILI SAUCE
PAD KAPROW (SAUTEED GROUND CHICKEN WITH BASIL & CHILI)
PAD THAI (SAUTEED RICE NOODLES WITH SHRIMP, BEAN SPROUTS, EGGS, SCALLION AND GROUNDED PEANUT)
THAI ICE TEA
COKE

The intense aroma of basil and chili from Pad Kaprow permeated the little joint before it even arrived on our table. J let out the breath of relief at the sight of this plate of seaming ground chicken over rice. He nodded and took a huge forkful. “Hey, this is like Thai sloppy Joe’s. I can eat this.”

I was anxious to have the soft shell crab, thus only nibbled gingerly on the reliably tasty Pad Thai. After what seemed like an eternity, my two plump babies sailed out of the kitchen on a giant plastic plate doused in glistening soy chili sauce. Suddenly all the ABAs and FOBs (yes, they came in late) stopped talking at the sight of the dish. The atmosphere was tense with hushed owes.

NA NANA NA NA
NANA NANA NANA
I GOT THE PRIZE DISH AND YOU DON’T!

I was so excited that J had to stop me from mooning the other guests by pointing to the dish. Oh yeah, that’s right. Let’s taste it. I dove into the seemingly crispy soft shell crab. They were indeed buxom and juicy, except the breading outside seemed a tad too heavy. I like my soft shell crab light, crispy, and melting in your mouth. But it don’t matter, I’ll still marry you, Boon Chu Thai Place. The chili sauce was packed with “Die Hard” actions. (the first “Die Hard“, that is) Totally awesome. They successfully shut me up for ten minutes. When I finally woke up from heaven (like the scene in “The God of Cookery” when the lady tasted the best char-shiu pork rice and fantasized about rolling ecstatically in the giant bowl of char-shiu rice), there was only one crab left on the plate. I looked up and remembered that I came with J.

“Do you want some?” I offered half-heartedly. J shook his head and backed his torso slightly. “No thanks. They look like the creatures from The Starship Troopers.”

Sigh.

The price to pay for marrying a filmmaker.

After happily leaving the place, my vision came back and color emerged on my cheeks. Strolling serenely home beside J, I felt blissfully content having rendez-voused my two true loves, my hubby & my favorite restaurant. I gave J a plump kiss on the lips and he eyed me amorously.
Ha! Maybe there’s still chance to persuade him to withdraw me from the anger management classes he enrolled me in.

THE GIANT VOID INSIDE ME

2006-08-18T11:11:00.000-07:00

“Why are you taking it so personally!” J softened his voice and rubbed my head after reading my last couple of postings. “You make it sound like all the bad restaurants are a conspiracy against you!” he shrugged with the ease of summer breeze.

I eyed my hubby suspiciously. COULD HE BE IN ON IT, TOO?

Judging by the postings, I imagine some of you have already called me aloft and stand-off-ish, but guess what? I consider it progressive activism.

MY 4 RULES:

I CARE ABOUT WHAT I EAT!
I DON’T LIKE MY PALATE TO BE FOOLISHLY TOYED WITH!
JUST DELIVER WHAT YOU PROMISED!
OTHERWISE IT IS PERSONAL!

DAMN IT!!

After yet another disappointing experience last week at “Bread & Olive” (24 West 45th Street New York NY 10036) - the best Chicken Shawarma in town, stated in New York Magazine. I was ready to shut down my blog and chew barks for the rest of my life. For me, the sandwich was just …, ur, clean. Nothing extraordinary. It didn’t even taste as middle eastern (think of intense charring, exotic flavor, throaty cry and passionate drumming) as it promised. I understand it was in midtown Manhattan, but come on!

THERE IS ONLY ONE PLACE THAT COULD LIGHT MY FIRE AND SET MY HEART SOARING AGAIN …

HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?

2006-08-17T13:54:00.000-07:00

This morning, I woke up with an overwhelming urge for crispy smelly tofu with Chinese garlic chives.

Has this ever happened to you?

YOU DON’T KNOW TERROR!

2006-08-11T11:47:00.000-07:00

SAPPORO
152 WEST 49TH STREET
NEW YORK NY 10019

I dread Sundays.

For those of us who work on Broadway, every Saturday (double shows) feels like a Sunday and every Sunday (double shows again, lucky us!) feels like the eighth day of the week. Our vision starts to get hazy and footsteps seem to drag. It’s like being trapped at the limbo which always feels closer to hell than heaven.

All I could think about last Sunday was a giant bowl of piping hot savory noodle soup. It was the only thing that could prevent me from harming someone.

It didn’t feel like I was asking too much until during the rare split seconds of consciousness, I realized that I was in Midtown Manhattan. WHERE THE *&^% AM I GOING TO FIND A DECENT BOWL OF NOODLE SOUP, I ASK THE GOD OF COOKERY?!

For my one hour dinner break, the only two choices I had in the neighborhood were “Teriyaki Boy” and “Sapporo”. Last time I had Teriyaki Boy, it took me an ENTIRE WEEK to recover my palate. I vowed to never have plastic food again. So I picked “Sapporo”.

It was a bad idea.

The small place seemed to be run entirely by Asian exchange students under the age of 18. I settled down at the counter and saw the Latin cook behind it trying to kill a fly with the spatula GREAT. Welcome to the suicide club. The exchange student, I mean, my waiter played with his PSP loudly beside me. I closed my eyes, and pointed at one number on the menu at random.

SAPPORO SPECIAL RAMEN

It indeed arrived in a gianormous bowl. Four slices of roasted pork lay next to a sad bundle of assorted vegetables (spinach, bean sprouts, and corn), and on top of a body of malnutritional ramen. All ingredients were drowned in a pool of dirty yellow lukewarm broth with skeptical ground meat floating on top.

Should I call 911?

Desperation is a very poqwerful thing and the devil must have taken over. I bit into it without hesitation.

Everything tasted exactly how it looked. Salty, greasy, and tasteless. I felt homesick. I thought about the readily available, assorted delicious noodle soups I had back in Taiwan. I wanted my mom. In an attempt to fill up the void, I ate faster. I managed to chow down half of the bowl. It was absolutely horrible.

After paying $8.15 (yes, AMERICAN DOLLARS!) for the piece of shit I just had. I felt cheated and hurt.

DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THE MOVIE “TAMPOO” ANYMORE? HAD PEOPLE STOPPED CARING ABOUT WHAT THEY ATE?

Then I looked up and saw the giant Cup Noodle sign glinting in the middle of Times Square and realized where I was, once again.

"THE RICE SPROUT SONG" BY EILEEN CHANG

2006-08-08T12:02:00.000-07:00

Hunger, I mean real hunger, is one of the most tragic things could ever happen to human kind.

It is really not my place to critique nor comment on the great works of my favorite Chinese writer, Eileen Chang.

Because she was simply, too brilliant.

Just re-read her novel “The Rice Sprout Song” last night. I was moved to tears, again. She had such sharp ways of penetrating the souls of her characters as well as remarking the absurdity of China‘s land reform movement in the 50s. The fear (and reality) of hunger was so vividly descried in this novel. I feel like telling every food lover about this book. You simply can not proclaim yourself to be a “gourmet” without witnessing the experiences of hunger.

It is like the yin and the yang. Sometimes you have to tip to the other side in order to fully understand this side.

Empathy is a very powerful thing.

THE BEST CHEESE CAKE ON EARTH! NOT AGAIN!

2006-08-01T16:01:00.000-07:00

NY NY CHEESECAKE
The Best Cheesecake on earth!
405 8th Ave
New York NY 10001

OH, COME ON! NOT “THE BEST OF … ON EARTH” AGAIN!

Is there a shortage of vocabularies?! Or are all the stores nowadays into whacking their ding-dongs off in front of the customers?! Shamelessly claiming your own product is “the best of its kind on earth” is simply masturbation to me. Like my mother used to say, private matters should be kept in, well, PRIVATE! This “The Best …” act is really starting to get on my nerves.

So I marched into the store and purchased two of their signature baby cakes.

WHAT?!
I JUST HAD TO TASTE IT!

PLAIN CHEESE BABY CAKE
PINEAPPLE CHEESE BABY CAKE

The cakes came in little see-through plastic containers sealed with stickers with pictures of cute naked babies laying on top. It made me feel like suddenly transforming into a platform-shoes sporting, wide-eyed Japanese school girl covering her mouth partially to giggle and exclaim with her Hello-Kitty cell phone in hand,

“Kawaii!”

But since I’m not Japanese, I went for the Confucian way. I ripped the seal open in one force and promptly dug my fork in.

The plain cheese cake was disappointingly tough. Too dense and salty (odd, ain’t it?). Not even a smidge close to the delectable Junior’s cheesecake. The pineapple cheesecake proved the same result. The small morsels of fake pineapples (you know, the ones from the can) on top served only a faint taste of the fruit. Remember how a real, ripe, juicy, fragrant pineapple should be? IT MAKES THE JACK RABBIT JUMP UP AND SMACK THE BEAR! I was hoping the pineapple flavor would be infused INSIDE the cheesecake. But I guessed it was too much to ask.

I can’t help but starting to daydream about the fluffily delicious passionfruit cheese cake I had back in Taiwan. Every Asian desert I’ve ever had just tasted so much lighter and, righter. (Yes, there is right and wrong for this matter). Hearing this, my hubby promptly rolled his huge puppy eyes and choked on his grape soda.

“ Are you kidding me?!”, he was sincerely waiting for an answer.
“Red bean ice cream? Taro cake?”.

Wowwwww! Things are getting REAL personal now …

MAMA SAY WHAT? THE BEST BURGER ON EARTH! REALLY???????

2006-07-31T19:30:00.000-07:00

LUCKYS FAMOUS
370 West 52nd St.
Between 8th & 9th Ave
NYC

Everyone cheats sometimes, right?

There is no denying that my burger heart belongs to “The Burger Joint” in The Park Meridien Hotel. But the slutty appetite of mine just can’t help but itching to go to the new “Luckys Famous” branch near my job in mid-town. Now, any place that advertises themselves as “The Best …” was, well, to use Triumph The Insult Comic Dog‘s mantra, “ For me to Poop On!”. But it did intrigue my interest. So I set my foot into this orange & yellow-gone-wild little dive with great expectation and suspicion. The blond “dude” behind the register looked like he hasn’t acted since “Point Break”. I went simple.

CHEDDAR BURGER
LUCKY FRIES
VANILLA MILK SHAKE

The guy flipped his shoulder-length hair and took the whopping $14. Hey, how come he didn’t ask me how I would like my burger to be done? SUSPICION #1! The young Latin cook peeked his head out to examine the size of my “girls”. I tried to avoid his stare by studying the menu on the wall. CHEDDAR BURGER EGG ROLL?! Okay, this could just be the beginning of a disaster. I started to pray that no one spit nor violated my food.

My order arrived shortly. The burger was layered with chopped white onions, sliced pickles, lettuce, tomato, and mustard. SUSPICION #2!!! Who decided to put all these bells and whistles on my burger?! What were they trying to hide?! I took a tentative bite. The patty was thinner and greasier than I thought, but surprising, QUITE TASTY! With all the what should-we-call-it added on, it actually created the theme-park flavor that would sure to please any kids (real and grown-ups).

The fries were the thick-cut, crinkly kind. They turned out to be crunchy on the outside and melting from the inside. Not bad. I tried dipping them into the “Lucky sauce”, which tasted like Thousand Island Dressing, except the person fell asleep while adding mayonnaise. Bad idea. The “hot sauce” was much better. With hints of hot pepper mixed with ketch-up and mayo, it tangoed seductively with the fries in my mouth.

I took a gulp of the thick vanilla shake. It went down smoothly but tasted a tad too sweet to my liking. I took a deep breath and started to relax and enjoy the food. Seeing the next table of five kids quieted down once they bit into their burgers, I made a mental notice to bring my lovin’ hubby here next time. He would like it. After all, who wouldn’t enjoy a much more sophisticated version of the McDonalds? And I might just go wild and order the cheddar burger egg roll!

But I still would not call it “the best burger on earth.”

GOOD THAI IS THE BOMB!!!

2006-07-21T10:38:00.000-07:00

So we finally made it to the place. Even before our asses hit the chairs, my loving' hubby J glanced at the menu in supersonic speed and proclaimed confidently, 'I'll have the chicken wings and sweet & sour pork'.

CHICKEN WING AND SWEET SOUR PORK AT A THAI RESTAURANT???!!!

It must be the heat, I thought to myself. So I casually rolled up the menu and struck him in the head, also in super sonic speed. He reacted like an abused puppy. As the kind-faced owner emerged from the kitchen, I quickly reached over and rubbed J’s head lovingly while flashing the owner a ‘We are so totally ready to order' smile.

'Hi, I‘ll…I mean, we'll have
Som Tum (Thai papaya salad with peanut & chili)
Tom Yum Koong (Clear shrimp soup in spicy lime juice, lemon grass, mushroom &chili)
Kang Sub Nok (Fish paste with eggplant in coconut curry paste)
Pad Thai (Sautéed rice noodles with shrimp, bean sprouts, egg, scallion and ground peanut)
Sticky rice
One Thai ice tea and one, what would you like to drink, honey?'

J muttered some artificially flavored beverage and quieted down.

The meal went wonderfully.

'Som Yum' arrived with thinly julienne green papaya laced in spicy dressing on top of piles of iceberg lettuce. The presentation needed some work, but the intense sweet & sour flavor and aromatic fish sauce woke up one's taste buds like a lover stroking your nipples. My eyes beamed. I kicked off the flip flops and searched for J’s legs underneath the table.

'Tom Yum Koong' turned out to be a bit of a let down. I was hoping for a savory broth with freshly crunchy shrimp. Instead, it was an over sour pot of spicy water with some dead shrimp in it.

'Kang Sub Nok' was a surprise hit. The 'fish paste' stated in the menu turned out to be home-made fish balls. They were deeply flavored with a hint of fresh ocean breeze. Floating happily with chunks of Chinese eggplant in hot green curry sauce, the dish made a perfect companion to the nice chewy sticky rice. It was so flavorful that I could not stop kicking J’s shin with each bite I took.

'Pad Thai' was J’s favorite and, surprise, surprise ... Mine, too. These were not the usual limp, suicidal rice noodles you get from other so-called Thai restaurants. They were deeply committed, full of life noodles that literally bounced off the plates and conversed with you like a high-spirited evangelist. The balance of hot, sweet, sour, and salty has truly attained enlightment in this dish. We polished every little bit from the plate and wanted more.

As I sipped my creamy dense Thai ice tea and chatted with the owner who came to deliver the check. I found out that the chef is the owner’s mother-in law and she is from the River Kwai region of Thailand.

'Country people, you know, they like strong flavor', the owner said almost apologetically. I shook my head vigorously, 'No, no, I mean, yes, the food was great. I loved it!' J nodded in agreement, now fully approved of this experience. The owner smiled, like he’s heard this a hundred times before.

As we strolled contently towards the subway, I announced in my professional food critic voice, 'You know what, Thai food is supposed to be intensely flavored. Otherwise, what's the freakin' point of eating them?' J patted her hand lovingly and said, 'That’s right, honey. So, can I get the chicken wings next time?'

Oh, the battle ...

BOON CHU THAI PLACE
83-18 Broadway
Elmhurst, NY 11373
Open 7 days!

I LOVE ME SOME THAI!!

2006-07-18T21:05:00.000-07:00

Boon Chu Thai Place
83-18 Broadway
Elmhurst, NY 11373

After a whole week of tossing, turning, and chewing her loved-one's ears off (literally), GOURMET GAL (GG) is finally 1,440 minutes away from getting her tongue back on that orgasmic shrimp pad Thai again. Now GG grew up in Asia and lives in NYC for the past ten years, so she's no stranger to all kinds of boot-legged and authentic Thai food. But last week, GOURMET GAL had the ultimate high on discovering a 20x30 Thai dive in Elmhurst, Queens. THIS PLACE IS NO JOKE!! GG seriously thought about breaking into the kitchen Jackie Chan style and hugging the shit out of the chef. Their food was even better than Planet Thai (rated number 1 Thai food in NYC by Zagat) when it was just a charming gem for the locals! But like we all know, love at first bite does not always promise happily ever after. So the best way of confirming this passion is to DO IT AGAIN & AGAIN & AGAIN! OH YES! YES! So until GG hooks up with her meatloaf-mashed potato-grape soda-loving hubby at the restaurant.
Keep your taste buds active --- GOURMET GAL'S REVIEW COMING SOON!!