A roast pork PSA (Wah Fung)

Not that this really needs reiterating, but I fucking love Chinese roast pork. Not just any roast pork from Chinatown will do though, it has to be from Wah Fung - home of magically delicious maltose soy sauce glazed fatty pork that doubles as a nightmare for my bowels. Not to rehash anything I've already said in my old post, but basically this is both a value play as well as something that just tastes straight dope. With a side bonus of playing Russian roulette with the toilet. What more could you ever ask for? Maybe the large order. Which is why I wanted to make a public service announcement - at the risk of increasing the already ridiculous wait time - their large roast pork over rice is easily the deal of the century.



In my original post, I thought this was a hella good deal already. Look at all that goddamn meat, and all for $3. It just didn't make sense - how was this tiny little shop in Chinatown surviving on margins that couldn't possibly exist? Then, one day I decided to step up my game... man up and order the large roast pork over rice i.e. the monstrosity you see at the top. At a price only 50% more than the small, you easily get two to three times the amount of food. Asian bro-homeslice at the shop basically lays down a carpet of rice, packs that shit down real good and begins the magic of meat chopping. Exactly like the miniature box of roast meat, you just watch him transfer hand after hand of glistening pork into the box, constantly wondering how the fuck he's going to close that shit. And when you think he can't possibly put more in, he'll stuff some extra roast chicken or Chinese sausage in... for good measure. After all is said and done, basically when he realizes he actually can't close the lid of the box, he grabs a handful of rubberbands and jerry-rigs the fuck out of it until he forces it into delightful submission. I love you man, and everything you stand for. Anyway, I just wanted people to know that something this awesome exists in Chinatown. That's all.

PS - in case you haven't noticed yet... I've become a really shitty blogger as of late. I don't really update with any sort of regular frequency, and when I do, it's usually weak-ass posts light on content like this one - oh hai! I just wanted to note that it's hard as shit to blog when it's not your job. Mad props to all those peeps who manage to not get fired from their real jobs and moonlight doing this food writing nonsense. I am impressed. Please tell me how I can suck less yo.
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Why press events are retarded (Rub BBQ)

It's cornbread inside suckling pig. Yes it was delicious, no I did not pay for it.

When I first started this writing thing I thought getting invited to press events was the epitome of baller status in the food blogosphere. You're probably thinking "wow, you're a gigantic toolbag for thinking that!" Haha... fuck you. To be entirely fair, I was a junior in college and I basically fed myself by going to random talks I didn't care about in hopes that there'd be free pizza. Shameful. If you were me, and someone told you that you could have free food in exchange for press... you'd probably piss pants in excitement too. Now that I'm a wily veteran of this demented food blogging game, I can safely say - food PR events are incredibly stupid. Why would I say that? First off, no one really invites me to these things because... well my blog doesn't get that much traffic. Am I bitter? Yes I'm bitter! Other people are eating free food that I'm not. I'm losing in this endeavor. I don't like losing. Secondly, no one else can experience the same thing as me afterward, so what's the point? Doesn't make much sense if you put it that way, right? Third, it's a zero profit system. Either I think something is awesome and I'm called a shill... or I bitch about something that's free and I'm a giant asshole for doing so. Screw that. I'm not gonna play a game where I always lose.

Now let us delve into each one of those points a little deeper shall we? About a month ago I went to some random press shindig at Rub BBQ. Naturally I was not invited, I only went because a friend of mine was, and she realized that I greatly enjoy eating things. Awesome. See why this system sucks? I don't get invited to shit because my blog doesn't get traffic. I guess that makes sense to people hosting the events, but to me that screams unfair. I take time to bitch about things online too! Why can't I get all the perks of other bloggers?*



Onto point two. These events are snapshots in time. What I experience... no one else can ever have again. Does that make any sense to anyone? See that salad above? I don't normally eat salads, but I ate that one. Know why? It was drizzled with a bacon fat vinaigrette and had bacon lardon pieces. Bitchin' salad covered in pork oil, sprinkled with rendered pork fat, and topped with a poached egg. Erotic salad is wonderful indeed. Then there were also...



Fuckin' lamb sliders. Cooked to a gentle medium rare and served with fried spicy eggplant and a mint-basil aioli. Probably one of the dopest "burgers" I've had in a long time. Here's the funny thing - you'll never have one like it! You'll never have that awesome pork flavored salad either. Sucks for you. Now I seem like an asshole right? Wrong. Press event people are the assholes. They're the ones doing this, not me.



I also ate bacon and cheese. Because that's what classy people do, I guess...?

Now this last point... this one's key. No one wins in these situations. Press events are built on the concept of good PR. Shit is free because they expect you to say good things about it, but there's also the unspoken agreement that you do say good things about it. Here's the thing, because it's free... you really can't expect jack shit from the organizers. If you decide to show up, that's on you. So what do you do? The food at Rub was pretty sick and I had no complaints, so I write good things about it. Now I'm a shill. If the food didn't meet expectations can I bitch about it? No, it doesn't work that way either because I would have to accept responsibility for being a retard and expecting something for free. Basically you're dicked either way, so... why bother? There's been a lot of beef going on lately about things at press events not living up to expectations and people getting duped... here's my take on it: calm your hormones. It's like if a dude in an unmarked van offers you candy, then you get in and get molested. That's on you bro. There are no free lunches.

tl;dr? Press events embody everything that is dumb about food blogging. It's really no more than people writing about nonsense that doesn't actually exist anymore and people expecting things from nothing.

*If you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic. I think getting free food solely on the basis of being a "Yelp Elite" or influential blogger is pretty much one of the douchiest things you could ever do.
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Tipping in Chinatown (Lucky Plaza Restaurant 新旺城酒家)

It's not that I'm some sort of cheap soulless asshole (okay... maybe just a little), but I hate tipping. I don't understand the point of it, and I doubt I ever will. Before everyone goes apeshit explaining how "tips are the only way a lot of waiters/waitresses make ends meet as single parents supporting their five kids when their spouses fail to pay child support," let me explain exactly what I mean - I think the current system of tipping is dumb. There are certain expectations I have when I go to a restaurant. I feel like good customer service is a fairly reasonable one. So why exactly do I have to pay extra on top of the bill for something that should inherently be included? Because the social norm in the US is straight demented. The way the system in Japan works... everything that goes into the meal - ingredients, preparation time, service, etc. - is already priced into final cost. Maybe costs at restaurants would be higher, but there'd be no awkward post-meal deliberation of how much to leave and no one would leave feeling jipped for paying for an awful experience. That would be just dandy wouldn't it?

It's bad enough that I basically have to dole an additional 20% just for sitting down in a restaurant, but there's something worse. Far worse. Like when restaurants automatically append gratuity to their bills (party of two if it matters). When they do that... it removes any incentive for the waitstaff to do anything and it also removes my ability to voice displeasure without being confrontational. That's not me. I sip Haterade™, but I'm not out to advertise that. Anyway, why am I bitching about tipping all of a sudden? Because it happened in the last place I'd ever expect it - in Chinatown, at a place called "Lucky Plaza Restaurant," where I got hit with a $5 tip on an $18 meal. Are you freakin' kidding me? That's almost 28%. If I'm paying that much then you best be wiping my ass after I use the bathroom too. What makes this even more ludicrous is the fact that the service straight sucked. When I asked to box stuff up to take home, some chick literally tossed takeout boxes on the table and told me to do it myself. That ain't worth a 28% tip yo.



I wish I could tell you not to go there because half the staff needs to chill their hormones, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit the food was actually pretty dope. Lucky Plaza's a Cantonese restaurant with a menu that looked pretty stereotypical of random diner places in Hong Kong. They like doing shit like roasting meat and putting over rice, frying up slick plates of oily noodles, and making various types of dumplings - all of which are awesome things. That said, their char siu fried rice (叉燒炒飯) isn't bad. It's basically one part oil, one part rice, and one part roast pork... a delightfully heavy dish that's moderately flavorful for its simplicity. The pork isn't so tantalizing that the dish becomes the epitome of all fried rices, but it's on par with generic places in Hong Kong. I feel like the act of simply replicating an "authentic" version is testament enough to how well this was made. It's something I'd probably enjoy infinitely more if I were drunk... that kinda thing.



Check that shit out. Glossy as a motherfucker. I'm probably not really the best person to ask about beef chow fun, because to me... the oilier it is the better it tastes. In my mind, there are few things in the world more sensual than rice noodles swimming in a pool of rendered beef fat. Aw yeah. Lucky Plaza might not be very good at refilling your water and junk like that, but at least they understand that oil is the key to making some sick rice noodles. Their version screams mediocrity, but given how difficult it is to make oily noodles taste any sort of bad, by default that makes it taste decent. Does that even make sense? Probably not. Peep this - similar to the fried rice, it's not a destination worthy dish, but if you're hungry and don't feel like waiting for the line at Wah Fung... it's not a bad consolation prize.



They also make soup dumplings. Eight of 'em for like $5. When you compare that to places like Joe's Ginger - and other places with "Joe" in the name - that seems pretty awesome (before they decided to tack on their asshat automatic tip I mean). To be entirely honest they're like everything else this restaurant does - good, but not life changing. Solid enough where you're impressed, but not so ridiculously awesome that you'd ever sell your firstborn for the recipe. Their soup dumplings have that stupid little nubbin of dough at the pinch point, and they don't possess translucently thin skins, but they are filled with a fairly surprising amount of soup. All for a super reasonable price... sort of. Plus if you think about it, most dumplings taste okay anyway. It's a meatball wrapped in dough... a pretty likable combination... even mediocre ones.

So yeah tl;dr time - Lucky Plaza makes pretty good food. They're pretty good at shit like roasting meats, stir-frying things with lots of oil, and making reasonably priced soup dumplings, but they need to chill the fuck out with their automatic tip (or step up their waiting game). That shit is ridiculous. I'd probably get food there again, but probably not eat there. Also, I still think tipping in the US is stupid.

Lucky Plaza Restaurant
81 Chrystie St, New York, NY 10002
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Roast pork and butthole pleasures (Wah Fung No. 1 Fast Food)

Here's a somewhat difficult to answer question: how much is good tasting food worth to you? I realize there's a few different ways you can qualify the cost of food, whether it's monetary value, distance traveled, or wait time... but let me offer you another way of quantifying the cost of a meal - your health. Now I'm not talking about getting herpes from eating a sandwich or anything drastic like that, what I mean is... would you eat something that's breathtakingly delicious if it meant that there was a 50/50 chance you'd also get a free side of mudbutt? This is the dilemma that plagues me about Wah Fung's roast pork over rice. It's a dish that has a lot going for it... it's cheap, it's plenty filling, and tastes delightfully sexual - satisfying me in ways that only pork can - but it has a menacing side to it as well. The same gloopy grease that makes this dish taste oh-so-good also has a tendency to "unleash the warrior within." Some real black swan shit going down.

Listen, if you enjoy having full control of your rectal muscles, then maybe Wah Fung's roast pork over rice isn't your thing. Not me though, I like living life dangerously, and if it means I get to put some dope-ass Chinese roast pork in my mouth while doing it - that's just icing on the cake. Remember, according to The 40-Year-Old Virgin, "life is about love and passion... it is not about the butthole pleasures," and I am positively smitten with Wah Fung's pork over rice.



Before I continue creaming myself over this dish, there is one thing that annoys me. The price. I probably sound like an asshole complaining about something that costs $3, and maybe I am, but I am absolutely livid with this change. When I was still a wee undergrad at Columbia a few years ago, this shit cost $2.50. Yeah. The cost-value function was insane. Then all of a sudden it was $2.75. Now it's $3? Pretty soon it's going to cost $3.25. I don't know how I'd feel about that... probably hurt and lonely. Definitely devastated.



I guess I should probably talk about the food now. For $3, this dude right here will fill a small aluminum box and shove it full of rice. I'm sure at some point the rice is/was fluffy, but he packs that shit in tighter than an FCC lattice (can't get no more efficient than that bro). Then he takes some cabbage and broccoli and layers it on one side... I guess to make people think they're eating a well-balanced meal (it's really not). Whatever, those are trivial details... it's at this point that mr. pork goes apeshit. He'll pull slabs of meat out from a tray that's filled with the honey/grease sauce and go "Yan Can Cook" on it. Surprisingly... he still possesses all 10 of his fingers. The box gets padded with a 1" thick layer of pork and finished with a ladle full of sauce (read: grease). It is basically a brick's weight of rice and meat in a to-go container. It is beautiful, and it is a spectacle to behold, I swear.



If you've never had Chinese roast pork before... you're missing out. You really are. While I can't actually tell you how it's made, I can tell you that it's some pretty sick stuff. If I had to rate it on a scale of awesome from 1 to 10, it would be past bacon. That's how good it is. As for what it is? It's usually a fairly fat cut of meat that gets roasted until the fat renders off and crisps the skin, it's normally coated in some sort of sweet oily concoction that can only be described as magical, and it's almost always red. Don't ask me why, I don't know... it just is. In the end it really doesn't matter, Chinese roast pork has a certain sweet savory complex that delivers a disgustingly rich flavor profile all at a very reasonable price.

So back to the question at hand... is the juice worth the squeeze? Oh yes.

Wah Fung No. 1 Fast Food
79 Chrystie St # A, New York, NY 10002
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Pulled pork and bacon (Jake's Sandwich Board)

Sometimes I think Jewish people have things pretty sweet. Extra days to study for exams (when tests fell on religious holidays), matzah ball soup, eight days of presents - that's a whole 8x more than your average Christian family and an infinite number of times more than my family - and let's be honest... who doesn't want to have a bar/bah mitzvah? Color me green with envy. Then I think a little bit harder... and realize that for all those sweet-ass perks there is a terrible price to pay. If I were Jewish, I'd have to give up eating pork. Whoa there. Can't do it. That's not the life for me. So to all my Jewish bros and broettes out there. If you havin' bacon problems, I feel bad for you son... I got 99 problems but eatin' pork ain't one.

Enter Jake's Sandwich Board. Yes, we might've got off on the wrong foot when they set my butthole ablaze with the fury of 300 Spartans, but they definitely redeemed themselves with another of their creations... the 50/50. Half smoked bacon and half pulled pork topped with shredded provolone and a Sriracha mayo, the 50/50 is a pork lover's dream sandwich. All meat and none of that lettuce, tomatoes, and onions nonsense, this is a sandwich that doesn't fuck around with filler. All around smart dude, Ben Franklin once said that "beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." He is wrong. Pigs are that proof. Have you ever had bacon? Have you ever had pulled pork? Sweet Jesus. If you take two of my favoritest things in the world and shove them inside a seeded hoagie roll, yeah... I'm down with that.



The bacon is thickly cut (yet surprisingly crisp). The pulled pork is moist, tender, and pure in flavor... unadulterated by an ejaculation of sauce. The combination of the two is a magical existence that rivals the beauty of tides going in and out. You can't explain that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. It's not even that Jake's makes phenomenal roast/pulled pork (although it is pretty bitchin'), and it's not that their bacon is the stuff of legends, it's just that everything in this sandwich is... pleasant. The flavors of from each component act in a complementary manner and in general improve on the overall equation. The two kinds of pork act as contrasting elements, one salty and the other mild... one crisp and the other succulent. The provolone adds a certain twang to the taste profile while the Sriracha mayo provides for a cooling effect and also a decent spiciness in the aftertaste. I don't know what else I can say to convince you that bacon and pulled pork in a sandwich tastes awesome. It just does.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'll sort of miss you Philly, but only for your sandwiches.
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The corned beef special (Koch's Deli)

I don't really go to places because other people tell me to. Part of that is because I don't really trust random peoples' food suggestions... different people have different tastes. I can respect that. Another part of that is simply because I hate having to respond to them if I don't like the food. You have to understand how hard it is for me to look a friend in the eye and go "yo, bro... that #{insert_type_of_food} place you suggested sucked serious donkey dick... like huge." Anyway, *this kid I knew, born and raised in West Philadelphia, recommended I try out the sandwiches at a Jewish Deli out on 43rd. "Totally gutbusting and delicious" he says. He spends most of his days playing hoops out there... so I trust he knows the area pretty well. I completely forget about our exchange until one day I found out that he got in a fight and his parents got scared. Turns out, he was being sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle out West in California or something. Anyway, he was a good guy so I took him up on his advice and went to Koch's Deli.

So West Philadelphia is pretty shitty. People often joke around about how people get mugged and shot there? Totally true. Except there's a magical force field called "gentrification" that limits this to the area West of 45th Street. Lucky for us, this keeps Koch's Deli in the "safe to walk to" area. Regardless of safety, Koch's is your standard hole-in-the-wall type Jewish deli. They slice the fuck out everything fresh, and your sandwich will take 30 minutes to make (even if the store is completely empty). That's fine and all because the people inside are super nice. Sure you're standing there awkwardly for god knows how long, but the entire time... the staff is probably handing you slices of fresh turkey, cheese, pickles... the works. Half your meal will basically occur while they're still constructing your sandwich.



So their menu is pretty standard I guess. They do offer some more "adventurous" combos which are really just combinations of their deli meats, and are willing to stuff pretty much whatever the fuck you want in between bread... so your choices aren't really all that limited. You'll also notice that most of the prices are $8 and up. That totally doesn't gel with my normal purchasing scheme (since I am still currently broke as shit), but hey... Will Smith wouldn't lie to me about quality. That guy punched an alien in the face, he knows what's up.



For some reason or another, I really wanted corned beef. I don't know why since I normally have unpleasant memories of my mom's fake Irish "corned beef and cabbage." Now when I looked at the menu, I had a choice to make... regular or special. Not knowing what "special" entailed, I took a $1 gamble that it really meant awesome... like the onscreen chemistry when Will Smith meets Kevin Kline for the first time in Wild Wild West. Now the upside of this sandwich is that it weighs about a pound. That's a lot of heft for a sandwich, and by all means constitutes a pretty decent meal. After weighing the size against the cost (pun-tastic), I didn't feel so bad about handing over $10+ for a sandwich.

Then I unwrapped it. The feeling I had when I realized what "special" constituted was probably not unlike the feeling Will Smith had when he stepped on set for filming and realized what a mistake signing on for Bad Boys II was. The word "special" actually meant that you got about a half pound of corn beef (great!) and another half pound of cole slaw and Russian dressing (not so great!). The sandwich was fine. It tasted like, well... a lot of Russian dressing and cole slaw. The meat was decently tender, and while there was a lot of it, it mostly gets drowned out in the overall equation by the sweetness of shredded cabbage + sauce. To say it was moist (and messy) would be an understatement. Was it disappointing? Yeah, a little bit... especially after the high praise the place has earned, but by no means is it awful. I don't think I'll be going back, but that's mostly because it's not my style...

*Disclaimer: this person does not exist... unless you actually believe I am acquainted to the character played on television by the ever effervescent Will Smith
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A tale of four pulled pork sandwiches (Big Apple BBQ)

I've realized what's limiting my potential as a blogger (and the potential of this blog) - I just don't care enough to write about new things as they happen. When I had my interview for Google, they ran through all the standard questions... what superpower would you choose if you could have any one? Time-space control. What's your favorite color? #ff0033. What Disney character would you be? That dude who nails Mulan. What's your greatest weakness? Without any second thoughts I blurted out "I'm kind of lazy, and I don't really do things in a timely fashion." Apparently that wasn't a deal breaker since I got the job, but I really wasn't lying. In case you haven't noticed, I'm writing this post well more than a week after the event actually happened... probably because no one's forcing me to write blog posts, but mostly the lazy thing. Whatever, I just want to talk about some kick-ass pulled pork sandwiches without the pressure of "being relevant."



For those unaware of what the Big Apple BBQ is, it's basically a weekend festival where a bunch of decidedly non-Jewish people descend on Madison Square Park to pollute the air with the fantastic scent of pigs and smoke. Basically a bunch of pit masters from all across the US come to pimp their shit and try to spread obesity to the population of greater-NYC. Brilliance with a hint of mesquite yo.



Just look at that guy. Not one fuck was given that day. All he wants to do is flame torch the shit out of his rack of ribs.

Seriously though, if that picture doesn't have you convinced that a festival revolving around consuming meats rubbed down with sauce is a brilliant thing (in theory as well as practice)... well, you're probably a vegetarian and don't care much for my opinion anyway. In any case, I'm going to start talking about pulling pork now.



Ahh, pulled pork from Big Bob Gibson's Bar-B-Q. If you asked me for the most trustworthy sounding name for someone who knew how to make pulled pork... it'd probably be someone who's named Big Bob. No joke. The pulled pork shoulder that he was pushing out was tender, moist, and had just a hint of smokiness. In sandwich form it feels like kind of a waste (I'm pretty sure by including a bun, it's easier to skimp on the meat), but it was a good sandwich to say the least. Initially I had the complaint that the flavor was a tad mild, that it either needed more sauce or more seasoning. I felt retarded after someone suggested I eat a bit of burnt edge by itself. I would trample a mob of senior citizens for just one more bite of that shit.



I got really excited when I came upon a group of Twilight fans who were roasting whole hogs. As much as you feel bad for Jacob, team Edward is where it's at. He's got that whole sparkly thing going for him. Then I got moderately disappointed when I realized that "Team Ed" actually stood for "Team Ed... Mitchell."



My sadness quickly faded when I got a hold of his whole hog pulled pork sandwich. With a solid 30-minute wait, I feel like his sandwich was slightly over-hyped. Maybe it's because I'm not in love with the vinegary taste of North Carolina barbecue, but it just wasn't as impressive as I thought it would be from others' accounts. Big Bob Gibson's pulled pork was definitely something of a high-water benchmark I used throughout the day, and obviously it's impossible to compare apples to oranges, but that first sandwich was probably too tough an act to follow for "Team Edward."

I have to admit, the hot sauce they had on hand was pretty dope (I forget what it was called if someone wants to chime in?)



Ubon's pulled pork was closer to what my mind thinks of in terms of "barbecue." It was similar in style to Big Bob's, but was coarser, less refined, and had a more distinct texture. While Bob's was moist and basically melted in your mouth (yes, apparently meats can melt in my head), Ubon's took a little bit more work to eat. In terms of flavor, it lacked the distinct charring and smokey aftertaste that Bob's had, but was heavily influenced by the sheer amount of sauce present. It was messy, but good in its own way.



And then there was one. Dinosaur Bar-B-Que is one that hits close to home for me. For years I used to steal the delivery from Dino BBQ that was sent to the adjacent lab to mine at Columbia. For years I would complain about how their wings "weren't as good" as advertised. To be honest I wasn't so ecstatic about paying $8 for a pulled pork sandwich that I could get at any given time (given its close proximity). In the end, I didn't feel like I wasted money. Their sandwich was a nice blend of subtle porcine flavor and just enough sauce to add a hint of tangy aftertaste. It wasn't mindblowingly incredible, but it also didn't fail me like their sorry excuses for wings have for years.



I also ate ribs... in case you were wondering. These were from 17th Street Bar and Grill, who came all the way out from Illinois. Their menu says their baby back ribs are "sprinkled with Magic Dust then slowly cooked in our pit with a combination of apple & cherry woods for 5 to 7 hours." I don't know what "Magic Dust" is, and I never want to find out. The mystery tastes delicious to me.

Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with all this... I really just wanted to talk about pork sandwiches. I think I've accomplished that so I'll stop now. Back to being lazy.
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Italian sandwiches and my motivations for blogging (Paesano's Philly Style)

After my rant a couple of weeks ago, I realized it's really easy to criticize people for doing things the wrong way for all the wrong reasons. I also realized I sounded like an asshat who just complains a lot about trivially pointless things (not that I take back any of what I said). Anyway, after reading through all the comments on that post, then reading Danny's post on his purpose for blogging, I've been giving a lot of thought as to why I still manage to continuously trick myself into wasting time writing posts devoid of actual content on a semi-consistent basis. I won't lie and claim that I write for the "love of the food" - not that I don't love food... just that it would be dishonest to claim that as the sole reason for this blog's existence - nah, in this here post I'll spill my brains on my motivations for keeping this nonsense up, and talk about some pimp ass sandwiches from one of my favorite places in Philly - Paesano's Philly Style.

Paesano's is in the Italian market area (although there's one in the Northern Libs too). They make Italian sandwiches if that wasn't obvious enough. Wait, no that's not exactly right. They make fantastically kick ass sandwiches built on seductively delicious bread. Credit given where credit's due. They were on that stupid Bobby Flay show Throwdown once. I'm pretty sure Bobby boy's sandwich (which surely contained some idiotic infusion of chipotle mayo) got violated by the OG Italian dudes who work at Paesano's.



Paesano's menu is something glorious to behold. It only consists of about a dozen or so sandwiches, so it's not awesome because there's a bunch to choose from, but if you read through the ingredients of each... you'll constantly find yourself wondering "why would they put _____ in a sandwich with _____?" Will that actually taste good? I have not eaten all of them, but I assure you the answer is yes. Always yes. Also, the sandwiches are handwritten on chalkboards so it's got that hipster artsy feel to it. I hate hipsters, but I love the quaintness of their handwritten menus.



The "Liveracce." While it's affectionately named after the effeminately beautiful pianist Liberace, the fact that they're both fabulous is the only thing they share in common. It's $8 of carbs filled with - amongst other things - fried chicken livers, layers of salami, roasted tomatoes, and Gorgonzola cheese topped with garlic mayo and an orange preserve sauce. Shit son, I don't even like eating liver (they have this weird... gameyness that I can't quite deal with) and I downed it without complaint. It might've been the shield of salami blanketing the liver, or it might've been the strength of the cheese, but the liver was more or less just there to provide a contrasting crispy/creamy mouthfeel (ugh, I hate myself for using that term). Regardless of my inability to describe the amount of quantifiable win contained in this footlong sandwich... it is awesome. Again, this is coming from someone who generally hates eating liver with a passion.



Ah yes, their namesake... the "Paesano." It sounds like some dude straight out of The Godfather. Lots to live up to with a name that's the same as the establishment, but oh this sandwich delivers like a boss. I liked it so much that I already wrote a post on Serious Eats about it. The gist of it is beef brisket, provolone cheese, horseradish mayo... and a fried egg, because well... eggs are good for you? They're just trying to make their brisket sandwich a modicum healthier. Basically, it's juicy-ass beef that shears apart in strips with a slight bit of tangy spiciness from the horseradish mayo. Know that last bite of every sandwich? The one so saturated with liquids that it's more sauce than bread? Trust me... you'll be in love too.



Then there is the "Bolognese." With an innocuous name like that, you'd probably expect a stupidly basic sandwich filled with meat sauce. As great as something like that would taste, it's completely selling the sandwich short. It's as if the bros as Paesano's huddled around and asked each other... "how can we make a sandwich sound normal, but be as insanely unhealthy as possible?" Just look at the contents: "Crispy Fried Lasagna with Classic Meat Sauce, Sweet Peppers, Smoked Mozzarella, Red Sauce, Sharp Provolone & Fried Egg." Take something as perfectly normal as lasagna, fry the shit out of it until crispy... then shove it into some of the finest bread in all of Philadelphia and of course you have a ridiculously tempting sandwich. Pile on some sweet peppers, provolone, and a fried egg? Game over.

Now, since I couldn't come up with a creative way to intertwine sandwiches with the other point I wanted to make about why I write this food blog, I'm gonna shove it all at the end here. Because I can.

- Someone suggested that, instead of sipping on haterade™ all the time, I should focus on the positives of food blogging. Some of the coolest people I've ever run across I met because I write about stuff I shove in my mouth (that'd be the other 10% of food bloggers). Part of why I still keep doing this is because I like hanging out with those people. Believe it or not, it's not only fun to eat with other people... it's fun to talk about food with other people too. Crazy - I know.

- Not gonna lie, I kinda sorta care about pageviews and all that jazz, but definitely not for the reason you might think. Sure it feels baller as hell when you get a sudden spike in traffic, and yeah it's an ego boner when people cite stuff you wrote as legit, but the only reason I care about site traffic is monetary. I don't know if you've ever lived as a grad student... but it kind of sucks. On top of taking really stupid classes, you operate with a budget that would make Somali pirates ashamed of stealing from you. I clearly don't make a buttload of money off of blogging, but it does help offset some of my expenditures. Obviously this isn't going to be much of an issue going forward - I actually think my blogging at least partially helped get me my job - but it played a part in the past. So while some people are blogging entirely for the emotional handjob... I kinda did it out of greed. Even so... no one likes writing without an audience (or at least I don't).

- I realize my "About Me" already says I started this thing because I used to be fat and I needed a reminder that to slow down and enjoy food from time to time. That part is still true. I freakin' love eating, I think that's pretty indisputable. I also said that I write all these posts as a form of stress relief/entertainment. That's... er, semi-true. It's not always fun when I can't come up with crap to write - in fact that's downright stressful. I dunno, all this thinking is probably bad. Maybe I've been blogging for all the wrong reasons as well. "Everyone has an agenda," and I guess I'm no different.
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Non-Asians and Asian food suggestions (Dim Sum Garden)

Something I asked on Twitter last week... "Is it racist that I don't trust non-Asians when they make Asian food suggestions?" The answers varied. A few Asian people lol'd and told me they do the same. On the other end of the spectrum... someone suggested that it wasn't racist, but that it was ignorance. I won't try to deny that I have more than my fair share of idiotic views in life, but let me clarify what I really meant by this statement - I don't (generally) trust non-Asians when they preach about how deliciously authentic an Asian dish is i.e. don't trust whitey. Is that really so bad? It's not that I don't trust my non-Asian friends' perspectives on food. If you have good taste, you have good taste, but how can someone possibly comment on the authenticity of a dish if they have never had it from the source before? As I've learned from my engineering writing source... if you're just following fobs around, you're simply paraphrasing the source. Give credit where credit is due.

Last week I went with a friend to a small Chinese restaurant near Reading Terminal Market called Dim Sum Garden. The name is kind of deceptive, it's not so much a dim sum place in the traditional sense as it is a place that serves Shanghai style entrees and appetizers.

One of the things I most definitely wanted was 炸醬麵 (zha jiang mian), the Northern Chinese take on black bean noodles. DSG's version was super traditional - gobs of loosely strewn pork combined with a salty and slightly runny black bean sauce peppered with a hint of spiciness and sweetness. It was good, and to me... it was super authentic. My grandfather was from Northern China, ate this shit all the time, and cooked it for me all the time. See? I can say that because I've been there eaten the food, and have a direct comparison.



Shanghai shumai (上海燒賣) are apparently a sticky rice variant on normal shumai. Instead of gob of pork you get a gob of sticky rice with bits of pork inside. As much as I love rice, I think I enjoy pork more. I was not in love with this dish, but the texture was admittedly as interesting as anything I've eaten recently. See... I will not comment on the authenticity of this dish because I have no fucking clue if it's legit or not. I have never been to Shanghai, nor do I hail from there... so I will refrain from making assclown statements about whether it is "native" or not. They're fun to eat, I'll leave it at that.



We also got pan-fried dumplings (生煎包). These were, in fact, actually awesome. As good as most, and filled with more meat, than any I've ever eaten in Taiwan. The skins were super thin, borderline transparent, and they exploded with pork juices upon puncture. Again, I can make this statement because I know what the OG versions taste like, having sampled directly from the source.



What can I say about this? It's a cold dish of roasted pork (將肉). Flavor-wise it's pretty bland, you dip it in sugary soy sauce or vinegar soy sauce, but texturally it's fun to play with. The odd bits of cartilage make for curiously gelatinous nuances, adding a slight crunch to an otherwise plain cooking of meat. Twas good. Again, I have no clue where this dish actually originates, but it's something that was always on my table growing up... so I feel 100% validated in making asinine statements about it.

To conclude on this post which I'm surely to get bashed for... it's not that I completely distrust non-Asians when it comes to Asian food suggestions, I just find it ridiculous how often people make ridiculous commentary on things that they're completely oblivious to (I'm sure I do this too... and I hate myself for it). I mean, I'm sure an aeronautics engineer could explain to you how an airplane flies from reading books, but I wouldn't want them flying a plane. Similarly, you can tell me food is good, but leave out the commentary on authenticity unless you've hard the original for comparison. Until then, I'll continue to listen to Asians when it comes to Asian food.
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Bibimbap and Korean tacos (Giwa)

Yo, Koreana... I'm really happy for you and imma still eat at your restaurant, but Giwa in Center City has some of the best Korean food in Philadelphia of all time! Since the beginning of the year, when I found out about this restaurant that serves up Korean tacos, I've been itching to go have a taste. Unfortunately, due to my immensely busy schedule (i.e. my inability to efficiently manage time between class and food), I never got a chance to until last week, because, you know, I figured I should probably go get me some Korean tacos before the world ends in 2012. I'd be really sad if I died without ever having known the taste of Korean tacos. For shame. Anyway, after talking about this place for damn near four months, my expectations were obviously getting a bit out of control, like a teenager and hormones... and something bad happens? It was basically to the point where there was so much hype that I expected it to suck. Fucking (adjective... not verb) tacos. It's serious business.

Ha, I bet you thought after the jump I'd talk about tacos. Nope, I don't give it up that quickly. First we're gonna talk about their dolsot bibimbap. Now with 25% more SUPER STEAMING action. That's how you can tell it's hot. I actually burned myself on the pot trying to take pictures, but that's not what's important. What is important is that they make a fantastic bowl of spicy rice and other junk. By which I mean bean sprouts, carrots, greens, and beef.



After you pour in your desired amount of sauce (all of it), you get to stir like a champ. Until your arm gets tired. Then you switch hands and go at it with your other arm, until that one gets tired too. End result... a beautiful bowl of red rice and some other stuff that people like to eat. By which I mean bean sprouts, carrots, greens, and beef.



But none of those things are important. The only thing that you need to know is that at the bottom there exists a layer of rice unrivaled in flavor and texture. It's soaked in a pool of all the remnant sauce, and it's crunchier than a Crunch bar (those aren't actually that crunchy...). It is the greatest single bite of rice dish I've had for a long time. And it was good. At $10.75, I was somewhat filled with rage when I was paying, but by the end of the bowl my anger had disappeared. This pot of fiery crunch (and other junk!)... it is le beautiful ಥ_ಥ.



And then I had tacos! I know what you're probably thinking. Why would anyone eat a full meal consisting of a giant bowl of rice, then follow it up with more food? Because. They're Korean tacos. You don't say no to tacos with spicy marinated pork inside. So I obliged. At two for $5.95, I again felt slighted. That's three tacos from Mr. Don Memo. Their tacos are the bees knees. Was I going to be filled with an inappropriate amount of food related rage?



Nah, this stuff is premium. Legitimately delicious. They're actually stupid simple in concept... you take plain soft tacos and fill them with a sweet and spicy Korean marinated pork (which separates like a more solid pulled pork), add in some lettuce, onions, cheese, sour cream, spicy cabbage, drizzle it with some lime juice and cilantro, and bam. Genius in wrap form. Douse it with some of their curiously red spicy sauce and it's basically like Mexicans and Koreans are having a party in my mouth... with pinatas and kimchi. So... while I don't enjoy paying $18 for a meal, ever, this place is definitely worth it. If it weren't 18 blocks away... Koreana would be in real trouble.
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Caribbean food at Gigi & Big R

Yesterday... I had Dunkin Donut's sausage pancake bites. They don't taste awful actually, but I wouldn't say they're awesome either. Then later in the day, I also enjoyed the wonderful experience that is food poisoning (I blame DD). Why am I starting a post with commentary on the kind of crap that goes in/out of my mouth? Because over the past few hours, in which I got plenty of face time with my toilet, I got to thinking about food experiences that were unpleasant to me. I like food. I like most every kind of food. So if I find fault with something, there's probably something seriously wrong.

Like at Gigi's. Last time I had their jerk chicken... I definitely regretted it. At $7, this is pretty expensive fare coming from a truck. I have high expectations when your food costs twice as much as everyone else's. Basically, if you're gonna charge that much, your portions better be double, or it better make me feel like there's a sexy party going on in my mouth. With the jerk chicken, portions aren't an issue. The box is pretty huge, and the sides are packed down like crazy. Nope, the problem here is with the chicken. First off, it's kind of burnt (maybe it's supposed to be like that? I don't even know), so the meat is somewhat difficult to pull off, and has a charcoal-ish taste. Yum. Secondly... they don't screw around with the spices. While in 99% of cases that'd be something awesome... in this case, it's not. This shit is spicy. Seriously. Spicy enough to make you regret spending $7 on something that's not even enjoyable. Steer clear people.



To be fair... it's not all bad. Despite my previous experience, in which my tongue and stomach suffered irreparable harm, I decided to give this whole Caribbean 'soul food' thing another shot. First time I looked at their menu, I wanted to get the ox tail, but it was $9, and I didn't want to drop that many bills at once for lunch (yes I'm cheap). Last week, I decided to finally man up and just do it. As much as it hurt to pay the equivalent of 14 donuts at DD, I did it anyway. No regrets. It was legit good.



The rice was fine. The mac and cheese still rockin'. The ox tail though, was phenomenally good. While it wasn't exactly what I was expecting (soft and tender beef that falls off the bone) it was excellent in its very own way. The meat pulls off in chunks, but remain partially attached to the tail bones by connective tissue. Seasoned an appropriate amount this time, the beef is succulent and flowing in juices, but what makes gnawing at the segments of bone the most enjoyable... is definitely the massive chunks of cartilage. They're proof that there's a higher power who loves us, and that we should be eating beef. Oh yes, it is incredible.

I still don't know how I feel about Gigi and Big R's Caribbean truck. They need to calm their prices down, since they're getting a bit out of hand, and they need to make some revisions to some of their dishes i.e. spicing the crap out of chicken, but goddamn... when they do something right, it is right.
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Roast beef and cheesesteaks (Tony Luke's)

If you read my blog, I'm sure you realize I like most combinations of meat and bread. That runs the gambit from Oscar Meyer to Porchetta, as long as I have protein surrounded by carbs (cue the jokes), I'm a fairly happy guy. Now, I've heard good things about Tony Luke's. Not that there's much that can go wrong by stuffing beef and cheese inside a hoagie roll, but the consensus is that their sandwiches are truly something special. When Tony Luke's does it, it's culinary art, not like the random dude selling frozen cheesesteaks on the corner of 34th and Walnut. I guess the saying "too legit to quit" is completely appropriate in this case.



I actually first learned about Tony Luke's watching Bobby Flay get his ass spanked on 'Throwdown.' If I recall correctly, he made a bootleg fancy schmancy version of a cheesesteak (probably with some form of chipotle mayo, since that's the only trick he has up his sleeve), and was promptly disposed of when Tony Luke busted out a broccoli rabe and provolone sandwich. Naturally, I ordered the Roast Beef Italian since it has all those elements. Basically, they stuff as much freakin' roast beef as they can without tearing the spine (I'm not sure that's what it's called) of a foot long hoagie roll layered with a creamy mix of broccoli rabe and provolone cheese.



This thing is truly epically large. The sandwich is fantastically well thought out... the beef is proper and juicy, tender enough that it pulls apart easily, but with tendon interspersed so there's distinct textural contrast. The flavors are carefully planned, with the strong beef scent accented by the sharp cheese, which in turn gets offset by the slight bitterness of the broccoli rabe. Honest opinion? It puts DiNic's to shame... and that's not a knock on DiNic's, but a testament to Tony Luke's.



Of course, going there meant getting a cheesesteak. Since the Roast Beef Italian already had provolone, it made sense to change things up and to go with cheese wiz. Things that come from cans = always better, for instance... whipped cream, cheeseburgers, cheese... I rest my case. Anyway, this sandwich didn't feel too far off from the roast beef one. Maybe my palate isn't very refined when it comes to differentiating different cuts of meat, but it feels the same, with the exception that this was cooked on a flat top griddle instead of roasted in its juices. Appropriately tender and adequately fat, the beef flavor melds just as swimmingly with the cheese wiz as the roast variant did with the provolone. Both are great, just with different flavor profiles.

I think each of these runs about $7-8, so they're not quite as cheap as the cheesesteaks I could pick up from random carts on campus, but that's not really a fair comparison either. Tony Luke's shit runs circles against those guys. Do I mind paying an extra couple of dollars for that kind of quality? Nah, it's okay to splurge sometimes.
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Hakka cuisine (桐花小吃)

Close your eyes (wait no, nevermind... you can't read if you do that) and imagine taking pork fat, rendering it in a wok over high heat, stir frying noodles in it, followed by a drizzling of pork broth over top of it. I'm probably trivializing the preparation process, but that's basically what it boils down to. In Hakka cuisine, 豬肉油麵 (pork + oil noodles) is a dish that's served at almost every meal. By taking thick cut pieces of plain salted pork and laying it on top of noodles glistening in fat, a simple yet incredible dish is created.

Found near the Taipei Main Station, 桐花小吃 (Tong Hua Small Eats) is a restaurant that specializes in　古早味客家菜 or 'old style Hakka cuisine.' Places in Taiwan like to say they serve traditional or old style stuff, but those few words have really lost all meaning in the past few years, since everyone's been using it. In any case, their oil noodles are nothing short of spectacular. While the pork on top is nothing to write home about, the noodles themselves are a revelation. Plain noodles that possess a certain 'springiness,' are well coated in a layer of pork soy broth, pork fat, and adorned with fried bits of garlic and scallion. The flavor starts muted, but after a few bites, you're left with light spiciness in your mouth which is accompanied by the guilt of pork flavor on your lips. There's another aspect to the flavor than that... one that I associate with old Chinese person cooking... that I can't really explain in words. If you've never tried Hakka food before though, let me say this, start with this dish.



I also got pork chop over rice. Uh, this was pretty disappointing actually (which is my general impression of Hakka food). When I ordered the pork chop, I was expecting a grand piece of pork, glistening with a mix of a sweet glaze and oil from frying. When I ended up with 3 strips of measly pork, it was an absolute and total let down. Coupled with the fact that they delivered the salted pork pig fat oil noodles first... well, it was sure to be down hill after that. Basically, the 3 strips of lean pork are served in a slightly sweet broth over a rice and sauce mixture that's eerily similar to 魯肉飯 (lu rou fan). What I got was basically a glorified bowl of soy sauce rice. Anyway, long story short. Pig fat + oil noodles is mega awesome. Soy sauce rice + stingy serving of pork is not.
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