Happy 2014, I shall lazily recap 2013

Bet you thought I was dead huh? No, truth is, I'm just a shitty blogger whose writing can't keep up with his stomach. After 5 years of writing - okay, that's cheating, I really only wrote for half of last year - it kind of gets tedious and repetitive. What started out as a cheap ploy to get people to pay for my food and invite me to press events turned into a chore. Don't get me wrong, 2013 was filled with all sorts of 'sensual encounters with the edible kind.' I discovered some of my favorite restaurants in 2013, but every time I'd sit down and try to edit photos or write a post, I'd look at how large my backlog was and start rocking myself back and forth, crying, shoving cold Domino's pizza in my mouth. You might think that's hyperbole, but it's really not. I truly enjoy cold and shitty generic pizza. Anyway, as some sort of small semblance of apology to the three people who read my blog still (Hi Mom!), let me recap 10... uh, no that's too ambitious... 6 things that made me wet my pants with excitement. Food things.



1) Hot pot. Or maybe you call it shabu shabu, I don't really care. Hot pot was a big theme for me in 2013... it was my fallback comfort meal. Didn't know where to eat on the weekend? Hot pot. Had a cold and needed to clear my sinuses? Hot pot. Wanted to drown my sorrows in a pot of boiling broth and cabbage? Yeahhh, hot pot. It's not like I was unaware that hot pot existed... I am Chinese and I've definitely huddled with my family around a small butane burner before, but something changed last year. Hot pot was no longer that frumpy girl in the corner I tried to avoid eye contact with, no - hot pot came back from Summer vacation as a total hottie. I had a sexual awakening of sorts, but with food. That said, there's one place that I've found is just better than the others. A place that offers individual pots so you don't have to share spit with a bunch of people who might or might not have oral herpes. A place that offers nine different soup bases (including soy milk). This magical place is called Shell Cove, and it's in Elmhurst. Don't you dare ruin it for me.



2) Cronuts. People said they were overrated, that they weren't worth the two hour wait (when they first came out), that this was more a gimmick than anything else. To be honest, that assessment is fuckin' spot on. In terms of cost efficiency, something that I can kill in four bites shouldn't cost $6, but you know what? They're good. Like, really good. When you hear the intricate process that Dominique Ansel takes to make each one - brushing each layer with chilled grape seed oil and layering it over the course of several hours - you get overwhelmed by a huge vibe of 'straight up douche.' Then you have one and you realize that what you're eating is actually an incredible combination of texture, flavor, and sheer gluttony... that it actually is a fantastic doughnut made in the style of a croissant, flaky and rich all at once. When I started trying the imitation versions - like Crumb's - it became even more obvious that Dominique Ansel is a goddamn genius. Yeah it's a ripoff, but he pulls it off.



3) Donairs in Nova Scotia - when you hear the term gyro, you normally think of a giant meat spinning on a spit that's spiced beyond belief and should be consumed while incredibly drunk. In Nova Scotia, it's... pretty much the same. Except the meat is generally beef and instead of being fucked in the face with cumin and friends, it's sweet, almost like a slice of Italian sausage, but with the same smooth consistency that you'd expect. Combined with a pillowy pita, that same classic tzatziki, and some other filler crap (I honestly can't recall what other stuff got in the way of me and that sweet, sweet meat), and you have something that Sidney Crosby likely deep-throated many-a-times as a youth in Maritime Canada, a wrap worthy of soaking up the finest of alcohols on the most questionable of nights.



4) Peanut Butter Burgers in Nova Scotia. Yeah, it's another entry from Canada - the hat of America, why? Because they're chock full of hidden gems, having produced such luminaries such Ryan Gosling, and such inventions as 'the egg carton' and 'instant replay.' In another clutch move, some visionary (undoubtedly freezing his ass off in the winter) decided to slather a thick layer of peanut butter on a bun before sandwiching in bacon, cheese, and beef, masterfully constructing what has become a Nova Scotian favorite, the peanut butter bacon cheeseburger.



5) Pho Hoa in Boston. Have you ever ordered so much food from a takeout place that they put multiple sets of utensils in the bag? Yeah, the feels when: your meal for one gets interpreted as a family feast for four. Well, there's this restaurant in Boston called Pho Hoa. They do a Vietnamese 7 course beef meal. I'm not sure if it's for a family or not, but when they pushed together two tables to accommodate all the accoutrements of the meal, I had one of those 'what the fuck did I just do moments.' As they brought out plate after plate of various preparations of beef - yes there were indeed 7 - I went from feeling like 'this is an incredible deal' to 'uhm, should I be ashamed of myself' to 'yeah, so this was one of the greatest things ever.' Like I said, you'll feel a swelling feeling of shame, but if you hold on for the entirety of the roller coaster experience, that will gradually fade into a crescendo of euphoria. Or food coma, I can't really think after I've shoved half a cow into my mouth. Choice wording.



6) Korean barbecue in LA - more specifically this place called 'Oo Kook.' That means cow country, that's how you know that shit is tight *drops mic*.



7) North Dumpling in Chinatown. Once upon a time, I loved this other place called Prosperity Dumpling. Then they started getting noticed, people would start adding them too food crawls, their popularity skyrocketed. Along with their new found popularity came an unexpected price increase (and sassiness from the main guy at the counter). Without going into too much detail, the fact that they were now 5 for $1.25 meant that I would get to eat 200 less dumplings per year prorated at my normal rate of consumption. Along with the assclown hipster clientele / deterioration in service came random batches of dumplings that weren't made do order (no doubt pre-made to cope with the increase in volume). In comes North Dumpling, a place I had forgotten about as they lie in the Far East... uh, side of Chinatown. While they have a $2 for 10 minimum, and the trek is ever so slightly longer, you'll be rewarded with a superior dumpling experience - freshly fried dough pockets of meat, with a pork filling just a hint sweeter than you normally encounter. Also, no hipsters for the time being.

Anyway, I'll write... uh, more... this year. I guess that's an easy promise to keep, since I didn't really write at all last year. Setting low goals since 1988, go me.
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Lessons in Korean food (Bibimbap Backpackers)

Over the past eight years (minus that one forgetful year I spent in Philly), I've probably been to K-Town at least a few hundred times, eaten more than my fair share of garlic chicken platters from Woorijip when drunk, and downed countless bowls of Jajangmyeon. Korean food is my jam, or my sexual awakening... take your pick. That said, while I'm more than happy to shove my hole silly with spicy-ass kimchi or to drown my problems in makgeolli - I realize more often than not, I don't know what I'm actually putting in my mouth (a serious problem for me). I've asked my Korean ex-roommate before on numerous occasions what each banchan dish is, what ingredients go into what, but he's also an asshole who didn't tell me his birthday for five years - so I don't really trust him with regards to these things. Anyway, when a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go to a random event in K-Town to learn about the history of bibimbap, I was a bit skeptical. This sounded sort of like one of those cult tricks where they promise you punch, except the punch is spiked... and you promise to love an extraterrestrial elder being named 'Stan,' but I decided the reward of eating some sweet sweet Korean food far outweighed the downsides of possibly signing over my life.

As it turns out - the Bibimbap Backpackers are a pretty laid back and legit group of people who honestly just want to make people love eating 비빔밥 (bibimbap), which honestly isn't that difficult to do. But before getting to the money shot, first they fed us some other stuff that Korean people enjoy.



Not unlike Starcraft, they explained that Pajeon is something dear and special to the hearts of Koreans, and is "only eaten on certain conditions relating to the weather... when it's raining, or when it's snowing, or when it's sunny." I've explained this in the past, but it's like scallion pancakes in Chinese cuisine, but with more stuff in it... or to make it even more relatable, it's like a panfried pancake, but instead of blueberries or chocolate chips... you put in chunks of squid and scallions and other savory shiz. It's not the main course, it's just to get your lips wet.



One thing I like about Korean food over every other food - is the seemingly endless stream of appetizer dishes that are apparently all free. I've often wondered what stopped people from going to a Korean place and ordering the cheapest entree and just killing it on banchan. Aside from shame, I mean. In any case, they followed up on the pancake with some japchae (glass noodles) and mandoo (dumplings). Glass noodles probably sound pretty bland, but they're surprisingly flavorful, with an elasticity that would rival Stretch Armstrong even the next day. Again, none of this is supposed to get you off - just tasteful foreplay for the main dish.



Then it hits you. Bibimbap. With a name that translates literally to 'mixed rice,' I'm not really sure what you expect. I took three things away from this session. One, this shit is the food of the royals. In the past, only kings could get their socks off with this ish. That's how sensual it is. Two, the name of the game in making bibimbap is to make your bowl as colorful as possible. What could be better than eating a fucking rainbow. If you answered anything aside from unicorns making sweet sweet love under a waterfall... you're an idiot. Or maybe I am. Third, doesn't matter what the bowl looks like after you mix it up with the fury of Zeus's libido - it will taste like heaven. Yes, maybe it looks like 'the sum parts of yesterday's leftover' according to my mom. So what? It tastes 5x better. Basically, what I'm trying to tell you is: bibimbap is dope as hell.



After dinner - you follow up with some hotteok (which is pronounced kinda like 'Hodor'). It's like a combo churro, funnel cake, and pancake. You have the delicious brown sugar cinnamon flavor of a churro violating your tastebuds, but with the crispy oily skin of a funnel cake, and the soft porous fluffy center of a pancake. If that doesn't get your pants tight, I don't know what will. I feel like it would be a la mode, but I don't think that's the Korean way to do things.



In closing, I have learned (not really that it's anything surprising) that I love bibimbap. I didn't really need a group of people to pimp the idea to me, but they've definitely firmed up any doubts that I had. Additional factoid - this program is sponsored by CJ Foods (apparently the No. 1 Korean food company), which is represented by the face of Psy. Who loves the fact that he's 'like herpes.' Awesome.

tl;dr - I went to some Korean food events hosted by the Bibimbap Backpackers (which weirdly enough are cosponsored by the company who employs Psy to sell various 'sauces'). They're basically evangelical Christians, except - instead of trying to make me love god, they want me to love bibimbap. I now love bibimbap.
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Black bean noodles (Son Ja Jang)

Remember how a few months ago I told you to go to Shanghai Mong to get black bean noodles? That they were the bees knees of black starchy concoctions... that they made me cream myself just at the thought of sauce drenched noodles (maybe this is why Google AdSense thinks I'm writing an 'Adult' blog)? Well I'm sorry. I was wrong. While their version is undoubtedly solid (and delicious if you're also going to get some sweet-ass tangsuyuk), it's not worthy as a destination by itself. To be fair, I also told you it looks like poo, so if you listened to me... there is something wrong with you. Or with me. Who knows? Anyway, to make amends for this - lemme tell you about a tight little noodle shop hidden in the back of generic - which is not to say it's bad - Korean barbecue joint. Tonight... we dine in Hell. This... is... Spartaaa! Wait, no. That's not right.



mmm. Look how much that looks like poo. You can't unthink it now!

Tucked away behind the main storefront of Muk Eun Ji is a tiny operation by the name of Son Ja Jang. There are literally three dudes in a glass paneled room bitch slapping the shit out of hunks of dough. There's a certain musical quality that accompanies the punishment they dole out on that dough. A symphony of abuse if you will. After a few minutes, you'll get the bowl you see above. Tender strands of noodle that go on forevertown, with a certain snappiness that seems reminiscent of a rubberband. If there were a bowl of noodles I would consider eating plain, devoid of any sauce or toppings, it would be this one. It is, simply put, amazeballs.



Then you mix that shit all up good. Really fuck it up. If the waitress doesn't offer, ask her to take a pair of scissors to it. Those glorious noodles are far too unwieldy once sauced on for you to tackle without being cut. The end result is this bowl of poo noodles. Shredded hunks of oh-so-fatty beef, sauteed onions, and some sweet-ass sauce of unknown origins (just kidding, it's black bean). The subtle sweetness of the sauce mixed with the richness of the beef blend into a beautiful session of lovemaking with the noodles. It is not sensual, it is straight carnal. No need to mince words.



You might look at their menu and think "hey, there's another one that's a dollar more called 'pul' jajangmyeonn. I be that because it costs more, it tastes beter!" Shut up. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Those three chilis? They are not fucking kidding. The first time I went, I thought that I liked spicy food - that there was no way you could elevate plain black bean noodles to an undocumented level of pain with just the addition of chili oil. I was very wrong. Very very wrong. While it's built on the same platform of delicious bouncy noodles, the sauce is enough to transform a grown man's face into a waterfall of salt water and snot. I've eaten ghost chili cheesesteak, ghost chili hot wings, and more capsaicin than the average person multiple times over, but dear god I couldn't stomach the entire bowl. It is painful going in, and it will destroy your butthole going out. Do not try to prove something here, just get the regular noodles. That's how spicy it is. Me, the cheapest person ever, took a few bites and wrote off those $9 as lost forever.



They also have fried dumplings. Don't bother. These just make me sad (and pale in comparison to the glory of the Hypnotoad... by which I mean the jajangmyeon). The skin is uniform in toughness and blandness - and oh there's the a lot of it, and the filling is nondescript and boring. Plus they cost like $8. What an ass-clown deal that is. I could get 40 really good dumplings from Chinatown for that price. Besides, if we're allocating our distribution of carbs, you really should be focusing on the black bean noodles here. Anyway, this here ends my apology post - ignore what I said about Shanghai Mong having killer black bean noodles. Son Ja Jang? That shit's my jam yo.

tl;dr - looking for killer black bean noodles with the finest in hand pulled noodle technology? Ignore the barbecue at Muk Eun Ji and go for the alternate Son Ja Jang menu. Don't get the spicy noodle bowl. You're really just paying an extra dollar to singe some ass hairs. Unless you like that sort of thing. I won't judge.

Son Ja Jang (in same space as Muk Eun Ji)
34 West 32nd Street, New York, NY 10001
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Sweet crispy chicken and black noodles (Jjin Jja Roo)

You know that commercial where they ask random people "what would you do for a Klondike bar?" My answer: pretty much anything just short of pummeling a third grader. Food envy. Some people have it worse than other people. I guess it's like alcoholism, but... without the social stigma and having to go to AA bit. What exactly do I mean? I'll explain. Let's say I go to Per Se. I spend a metric ass-ton of money, I have a super sick experience, and I eat what might be one of the most spectacularly extravagant meals available in NYC. All is well, I'm feeling super baller and shit, just sitting by the window enjoying my dope ass food when suddenly - A CHALLENGER APPEARS - some homeless dude walks by the window with a plate of halal lamb over rice or some shiz. At that precise moment, I don't give two fucks how sick my own meal is, I would rather have shaved lamb chunks, yellow rice, and white sauce of questionable origins all over my face. This is what food envy is - perpetual regret that I didn't get to order the other dish, regardless of what is currently in front of me. This indecision has been a curse all my life.

You know how crippling this problem is? Every time I go to McDonald's... the moment the words "combo #7, super sized" leave my lips, I can't hold back the torrent of emotions exploding and tearing me up inside. Extreme confusion and regret about the Double Cheeseburger combo meal that could've been, but wasn't. Unfortunately, there aren't any support groups out there that address this problem. Anyway, let's talk about things that are awesome to me... deep fried crispy chicken coated in sweet and sour sauce and also black bean sauce noodles a.k.a. jajangmyeon. While I have, unabashedly, ordered double entrees before simply to have both for dinner... I can't keep up this lavish lifestyle of buying two meals for myself. It's simply not sustainable... I'm not made of money! Fortunately, the peeps running Jjin Jja Roo in Food Gallery 32 understand that food envy is a serious problem, and have come up with a semi-effective way for me to get my fried chicken and sauced noodle on without breaking the bank. Enter the miracle that is... the combination bowl:



Oh lord, pants have been ruined. Now... there's no such thing as a free lunch. It's not like there are no drawbacks to this super dope combination of noodles blacker than the dark side of the moon and crispy sweet fluorescent orange chicken. You see, by giving you the combination of two fantastically awesome things, the folks at Jjin Jja Roo also gain the ability to give you the shaft by using these stupid bowls that ultimately reduce the total volume of food while simultaneously gaining the right to charge more. Does this bother me? The cheap Asian part of me wants to scream out says "yes." I really shouldn't be okay with getting less food, while paying more, simply for convenience, but the pragmatist in me thinks this is awesome in a really novel way. Sure I don't get the same amount of noodle per dollar or chicken per dollar as if I had just manned the fuck up and ordered double portions, but realistically... did I really want to eat two ginormous servings of carb and fried chicken? Wait a second... yes, I probably did. Whatever, it's still kinda awesome.



There's just one last question left not addressed - "is this actually good food? Are you seriously telling me that radioactive looking chicken tastes like poultry crack?" Okay, that's actually two questions. The answer is... kinda sorta? That's likely not what you want to hear when you're making the decision between a normal meal and bright orange chicken, but I'm also probably not the best person to ask about these things. Listen, when it comes down to it, Food Gallery 32 is a food court. Jjin Jja Roo makes sweet and sour chicken that's crispy, moderately juicy, and hot enough to sear off your taste buds. When you pair that with bean paste noodles... in a single menu item, and I'm pretty much sold regardless of how it tastes. Short answer is still yes though. Let me put it another way, when I was finished with actual chicken (and my face was covered in sauce and shame), I found myself wishing that I had an extra bowl of rice to slop up the remaining sauce. It's pretty damn good.

tl;dr - I can't make decisions to save my life. This extends to food to the extent that I frequently find myself ordering every item on McDonald's dollar menu. Jjin Jja Roo is sort of awesome in that they have these pimp combo bowls split in the center so you can get two partially sized entrees in a single meal. Also, while the chicken is disturbingly orange, I assure you it is delicious and won't give you cancer. I think.

Jjin Jja Roo (Food Gallery 32)
11 West 32nd Street, Dew York, NY 10011
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Steak and eggs w/fried rice (Boka)

Holy shit bro... you like steak and eggs? Do you also like kimchi fried rice? Fuck son, me too. If only there were such a glorious place that will fry a couple of eggs sunny-side up, plop them bitches next to some grilled and marinated beef, and serve that ish over some fried rice... shit would be tight, right? Boka does just that, and it's pretty damn legit (in the delicious sense, not the authentic sense). Listen... I know most people go to Boka because they have that sweet-ass deal on Thursdays with the all-you-can-eat/drink BonChon and beers, but if you're already there - I suggest you get a plate of this junk too. It's not that their kimchi fried rice is better than the homemade one made by your Korean friend's mom, and it's not like their galbi is the juiciest/tenderest/most flavorful cut of grilled cow that I've ever put to my lips, and well... eggs are eggs, but when you put all three of those things together and serve it alongside a bottle of soju with Hyori on the label? Fuck yeah it's the best. It tastes exactly like how I felt when Daniel-san beat those assholes from Kobra Kai. No, better. Straight awesome.

tl;dr - yeah I know this isn't really a full post, I just wanted to tell people to go eat some steak and eggs with kimchi fried rice.

Boka
9 Saint Marks Pl # D, New York, NY 10003
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Korean beef gratin (Pastel)

You can go ahead and file this entry under the "random things I like to eat, and I feel I should tell other people, because they might like to eat it too" tag. Now to answer the pressing, and very important, question of "what is that shit that looks like someone took a moderately uncomfortable dump on top of my rice, then garnished it with some cilantro?" - the correct answer is that it's the beef gratin from Pastel, located in Food Gallery 32. A few months back I ate a buttload of dishes from pretty much every stall in the food court, and while most of those memories kind of blended together into a glorious orgy of flavors in my mouth, a couple of dishes stood out. One of them being this -ish, which in my mind tasted like the sickest version of Hamburger Helper ever created. To put that comment in context, Hamburger Helper is basically straight crack for fat people - and because it requires 'cooking,' it feels fucking gourmet. This is 10 degrees more awesome than that.



This was what I got the first time I went to Pastel. I'm not sure why it changed so much - the first time was cheesier, gloopier, but less beefy and laden with brown sauce - but both of them tasted pretty ridiculous to me.

What actually goes into this "gratin" is magically simple - a bowl of rice gets blanketed with a combination of thinly slices of tender beef bulgogi, sauteed green and red peppers, onions, cheese, and an unidentifiable, yet curiously delicious, brown sauce that tastes something like teriyaki meets curry. Why is it so awesome? Part of it is the nostalgia factor that I mentioned... it feels like something that I could conceivably have cooked during college when I was drunk and emptying out my fridge in a brilliantly stupid act of culinary experimentation. Part of it is because I'm moderately surprised by how well integrated all these random flavors seem to blend together. Most of it is because I'm dumbfounded that some dumbass/genius actually gets to charge people money for something so fundamentally retarded, but can still be considered ethnic 'fusion' cuisine. Anyway, you probably won't find this appetizing if you're a fan of traditional cuisine, or a purist of ethnic foods, but if you're hammered beyond belief in Ktown on a Friday night, you'll probably think this is the tits.

tl;dr - Pastel, located in Food Gallery 32, serves this bowl of rice - with what appears to be beef and peppers smeared with diarrhea - called the beef gratin. It tastes pimp as shit. The ultimate in ethnic stoner food. You should eat it... even if you're sober.

Food Gallery (Pastel)
11 West 32nd Street, New York, NY 10011
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Colonel Sanders, go eat a dick (KyoChon Chicken)

If you know me at all, you're already well aware that while superficially I appear to be a fairly normal 23 year old guy - loves sports, pees on things in public, makes completely inappropriate comments on Xbox LIVE - I actually have the persona of a teenage Korean fan girl residing within. I mean... Korea's given us so many things to be grateful for that its hard not to be appreciative... countless tear-jerking dramas, innovations in Starcraft strategy, ddeokbokki, "We Got Married," and SNSD. There're nine of them! That's not even fair. In any case, all of those things are pretty awesome to me, but there's something that transcends all of their contributions to my happiness (yes, even nine very attractive women singing and dancing)... Korean fried chicken - erection inducing drumsticks and wings that are crispy as fuck.



Ha KyoChon... you make it sound like I've never touched myself after eating fried chicken before! Well joke's on you...

I bet you're probably wondering... "what's so great about Korean fried chicken? This is Uh-meri-cuh. We don't need no imported fried chicken." While I do agree that Popeye's, KFC, Chick-fil-A etc. all serve up some decent fried chicken, when it comes overall flavor... they're all a bit mundane. Even with radical changes in spicing, they all tend to converge on a similar platform, one that's often plagued by dry meat, soggy skin, under seasoning, or just a general heaviness from excess oil. Korean fried chicken doesn't, or rather shouldn't, suffer from any of those problems. I won't pretend to understand the science behind their frying process (probably has something to do with the high APMs possessed by the line cooks), but there's a scary consistency. Every time I've had it, the meat has been succulent, the skin has been crispy, and the sauce has been titillating. Just like magnets, how do they work?

KyoChon's signature recipe (as seen in drumstick form at the top) was textbook KFC i.e. Korean fried chicken. The skin is something worthy of being eaten independently of anything else - like torikawa at a Japanese izakaya - and far more than just superfluous breading. It possesses both a structural crunchiness as well as a certain suppleness that I think of when eating a good katsu. As for the meat? It acts as the yin to the crusty yang. Ridiculously moist and tender, it provides a mild texture and flavor to counter the boldness of the protective layer. Despite how good the signature flavor tasted, it was still relatively disappointing. It's not that they weren't tasty as hell, I just don't know that I'd describe it as "sensual" or anything remotely inappropriate. They just couldn't really match up to these bitches:



Honey badgers don't give a shit about anything. The honey flavored wings are pretty much the bees knees for me when it comes to sauced chicken. Take everything good that I said about the signature recipe, and then lightly glaze it with a thin coating of a sweet soy garlic sauce. Every one of those shallow channels that exist on the surface of the regular fried chicken now gets filled with more sweet lovin' than you could ever imagine. Added bonus? It doesn't even stick to your fingers. Yeah, my brain is still full of fuck. Now that is full on sexual chicken.



One does not simply "walk" into KyoChon...

I'm convinced that everything about KyoChon is magical. They have these kick-ass cups that work exactly like those nifty cold activated Coors cans. They come to the table looking like frosted glasses, but once you pour cold beverage inside, writing appears. It's kind of like when Gandalf taps on the dwarf door to Moria and words show up, but without the embarrassment of getting shown up by a hobbit when he outsmarts you and says "friend" in Elvish. Punk-ass... if I were Gandalf I would've kicked his midget ass. Regardless of how I feel about small people with large feet, I think you get my point. KyoChon is something magical to me, like most things Korean. Anyway, back to watching K-dramas.

KyoChon Chicken‎
319 5th Ave # 1, New York, NY 10016
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Food that looks like poo, but also tastes good (Shanghai Mong)

My Reese's peanut butter cup melted in the car... it looked like dog poop. Then I ate it. Cool story bro.

A long time ago, one of my best friends remarked that "most things that look like shit probably also taste good, everybody knows that." He might've been drunk when he told me that, so I didn't really think too much of his comment, just passing it off as another idiotic musing that really didn't make any sense. After all, as someone who likes taking pictures of food... aesthetics mean a lot to me. I don't like when people say they "taste first with their eyes," because it sounds dumb as hell, but it's kind of true. I refuse to believe anyone looks at a puke green colored slice of cake and thinks "shit, that looks delicious." Anyway, I've had a lot of time on my hands lately (what with the not doing anything), so I've also been spending a lot more time reading other peoples' food blogs. When I came across this post on Ben's Chili Bowl in DC, the first thing I thought was... "man, that looks like Vesuvius exploded out of someone's asshole straight onto a hot dog." Except... Ben's Chili Bowl is pretty damn famous for making some delicious-ass franks... so maybe my less than brilliant friend was actually onto something? Let's examine "foods that look like poo, but also taste good."

After putting more thought into the issue... a lot of foods that look like shit also taste fantastically awesome. Things like Snickers bars, uncooked brownie batter, pudding, half melted rocky road ice cream, dat sauce (bites lip) they put on 甜不辣, and yeah... chili. These things all look like the spawn of my dog's butthole, but I think they all taste pretty swell too. Maybe the converse isn't true, but things that look like poo do seem to taste good. Let's consider another example.



Black bean noodles. It's a Korean-Chinese thing. Since my grandfather was from Northeastern China... it's a childhood favorite, and pretty much what I grew fat on. Basically it's some sort of sauce derived from black beans (in Chinese cuisine it's often soybeans, 甜麵醬, or 豆瓣醬) mixed with ground meat, and sometimes vegetables, that gets put over noodles. If I had to find an equivalent in American cuisine, it's like mac & cheese. It's comfort food. I appreciate the ninja-edit on the menu, it's almost as if they added an advertisement that says "now w/pork!"

There's a few places you can get it in Manhattan... I know that Hyo Dong Gak makes a dope bowl of black bean noodles, but I've been wanting to try Shanghai Mong's for a while, so that's why I went. On a completely non-food related thought, whoever named their restaurant is pretty wack. I know in Chinese, 上海夢 (Shanghai Dream) sounds ethereal and peaceful and whatnot, but it also kind of sounds like one of those 很黃很暴力 (very erotic and very powerful) massage parlors.

Anyway, back to the food. Since Shanghai Mong is a semi-Chinese-Korean place, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect... the lighter, spicier, more pork focused version from China-r or the heavier, sweeter, more paste-ish variant from Korea.



Definitely more Korean than Chinese. Their version was... okay. The noodles were acceptably compliant (let the waitress cut them for you), and worked well enough as faithful sponges for the glorious sauce. Except the sauce wasn't entirely "fabulous!" Not nearly as thick as Hyo Dong Gak's, theirs was kind of like a runny poo. Kind of like when I feed my dog fried chicken. Not thick and paste-like at all. Flavor-wise it seemed pretty decent. Not too heavy on any particular flavor, it possessed a subtle sweetness that paired well with the pork, but let's be entirely honest... sweetened pork is a flavor that plays nice with pretty much everyone's palate (except for hippies and vegans). All in all, it's a fairly good rendition of jajangmyeon, but you could do better just next door at Hyo Dong Gak. Still, for something that looks like mudbutt, it's pretty damn tasty.
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A lesson in gluttony (Food Gallery 32)

Whoever said that "too much of a good thing is a bad thing" is an absolute moron. Case in point... Korean food. There's no such thing as too much Korean food. I don't care if my stomach is on the verge of exploding, spicy rice cake doesn't get any less delicious. True story. In continuation of the "where I freeload off of Serious Eats" series (part 1 on doughnuts here), I showed up out of the blue when I heard that the SE gang was going to sample the various restaurants of Food Gallery 32. In my head I figured that a few people would go, we'd each get what we wanted to try, and we'd sit down in a small huddle and talk about our feelings... and maybe discuss the food too. What ended up happening was the greatest shit show ever.

When normal people think lunch... it's a singular dish. Maybe add in a side if you're super hungry/fat. I figured that for people whose lives revolve around food, maybe a little bit more than that was required per person. But to Ed Levine, lunch is nothing to fuck around with. As we walked from stall to stall getting "samples" from each, I started tallying the number of dishes... by the time we reached the fourth (of seven) stalls, I realized the stupidly ridiculous amount of food that was ordered. There were like eight people eating, but for some reason we ended up with about 30 items. Oh snap, shit was on. Forreals.



Just look at that awesome spread. Do you know how many tables it took for us to hold everything? Fourteen. I don't know if you've ever seen 14 tables full of Asian food before, but let me assure you... it's every bit as awesome as it sounds. Anyhoo, instead of making this post informative or something remotely useful, I'm going to hammer you with photos of random foods that I happened to like. I might even tell you where they're from... but I honestly don't really remember that much. I kind of just shoveled stuff in my mouth as I walked around the table.



Pork belly is a good start to any meal. The SE peeps got a few appetizers from Boon Sik Zip, and this was one of them. I'm pretty sure there's no way to really screw up pork and fat, so... uh, this was good? I would eat it again.



SPICY RICE CAKE. Lookit how red and seductive that is. Doesn't it just get you all hot and bothered? These were from the same place. These weren't fantastic (according to everyone else eating), but let's be real here. I am Asian. I like things made out of rice. If you roll it in some sweet and spicy sauce, I really don't have any complaints. Again, nothing out of this world, but I thought it was decent.



All was not peachy. Their soondae (blood sausage) kind of sucked. The sticky rice inside was kind of... grainy, and the outer intestinal casing was really paper-like. Top it off with the fact that blood sausage without sauce is normally bland, and basically I was completely disenchanted with this dish from bite number one. Oh well, can't win 'em all.

Then I moved onto the entrees...



I don't remember eating this, nor do I know where it's from. It's probably for the best. I spy squid or something in there. I would've been scratching for hours from allergies.



Then starts the stuff we got from O-de-ppang!. Yes, the exclamation mark is part of the name, because they're just happy to be there. I thought these were awesome when I first saw them. I mean, I like rice balls in general. When you shape them into small little hearts, it's beyond cute. Mind = blown. I was actually super amped to try these, so when I finally did... I took a massive bite. Big mistake. They're filled with tiny anchovies that are beyond salty. Despite their cute outer appearance, these things taste like crap. Crap that's encrusted with enough salt to give you hypertension. AVOID.



There was also a pork cutlet dish, served too ways. I want to say it was either from Pastel or O-de-ppang!, but I can't say with 100% certainty. Anyway, one was served with curry gravy, and the other with Kewpie mayo. God that shit is like crack. I just want to rub it all over my face in the vicinity of my mouth so I can lick it once in a while. Go ahead, judge me. As for the cutlets... I don't remembered much about them. I had like one bite of each. I wasn't revolted, so I guess they must've been okay. Plus one had Kewpie mayo... there's no way that was bad.



And some spicy pork from O-de-ppang!. Fuck, the one bad thing about eating so much freakin' food at once is that I remember virtually nothing about any of them, but I know that collectively it was awesome.



This was different though. I don't know the exact name, but we got a beef gratin dish from Pastel. You remember as a kid... when you thought that Hamburger Helper was the tits? No? Well maybe that was just me. I have fond memories of that ground beef goop + powdered sauce over noodles. Anyway, this was like Hamburger Helper gone right. They took thinly sliced beef and vegetables, mixed it with sweet and savory bulgogi sauce, melted some cheese into it, and dropped it on a bowl of rice. Holy batman was it good. This might've been one of the only dishes that was completely gone by the end of the meal.



Katsu curry from... somewhere. I remember eating a lot of this actually, but I can't remember a darned thing about it. Meh. That's pretty much all I have to say.



What Korean meal would be complete without bibimbap. This came from Hanok, and it was pretty generic average bibimbap. When it really comes down to it, it's really no more than mixed vegetables and crispy rice. Not bad, but it definitely didn't have anything that set it apart from the versions I've had in the past. They deserve bonus points for their aesthetic element though. When it first arrives, there's a paper ring that sits on the outside of the bowl cautioning that you should be careful of burns. Thoughtful right?



One of the few dishes that was actually phenomenal was the LA Galbi from Hanok. Fantastically seasoned, the beef on these ribs was the perfect blend of fatty, tendons, and just soft-to-the-bone beef. I only got to have two of these puppies, but that's only because everyone else loved them too.



It wasn't quite Black Day yet (exactly one week from now ಥ_ಥ), but I'm down with eating bean paste noodles pretty much anytime. There's something about that sweet and heavy sauce that just sits well with me. I don't even care that it makes my teeth look ridiculous for the hour after, that shit is delicious. Jin Jja Roo's version probably isn't the best around, hell... I know there's a better one at Hyo Dong Gak or Shanghai Mong across the street, but it's definitely not bad considering it's from a food court. Part of it might've been the fact that since we were all taking pictures, no one mixed the noodles until they all congealed together. PHOTOGRAPHER FAIL.



We also got some khan poong gi from there. It's basically fried chicken with a sticky sweet garlic sauce topping. Most of the people said it was just okay, but I absolutely loved it. There's just something about frying chicken and coating it with sauce that I can't resist... case in point General Tso's chicken, chili chicken, orange chicken, sesame chicken - you get the point. While everyone else was walking around the table sampling other crap, I pretty much parked myself next to the khan poong gi and went to fucking town. Killed 75% of the dish solo... super easy.

If you thought that was a buttload of food, you don't even know. After we failed to finish 50% of the food we ordered, Ed began ordering dessert crepes from the place upstairs. Yes, because what I need after stuffing my gut with rice and all that jazz is soft crepes filled with ice cream.

What's the point of this post? Nothing much, part of it is guilt that I've fallen so behind on blogging and just want to get caught up. Another part of it is just to share some Korean food porn. Most of it is just to make you guys jealous. What? My side job is awesome.
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Korean-Vietnamese tacos and sandwiches (Tyson Bees)

When someone first suggested I go to Tyson Bees food truck for some Korean tacos, I was really confused. The first thing I think of when someone says the name Tyson is usually Mike... or the chicken company. After purging my brain of the idea of Mike Tyson taking my order, handcrafting Korean tacos, and then taking a bite out of my ear... I did some research on this truck. As it turns out, a former Iron Chef contestant by the name of Tyson Wong Ophaso decided to try his hand at a food truck based on Asian-fusion. Korean-Vietnamese-Mexican flavors. Can't get more serious than that. I mean... the flavor combinations can definitely work together (bulgogi cheesesteak anyone?), but it's also been screwed up a lot. Color me skeptical.



First things first... their truck. It is baller as fuck (hey that rhymes!). I'm not entirely sure where Tyson came up with the whole bee theme, but whatever. It's his truck. He can do whatever he wants with it. If I made a truck, it would be plastered with action shots of Kevin Durant and Godzilla. It would also be awesome, but that's not the point. The point is, when all the other trucks go rolling around the Penn campus looking all crappy and the like, Tyson is ridin' dirty in his flamboyantly fluorescent truck plastered with cute bees and hearts. Also, that blue thing looks like it's licking someone's butt. Like a boss.



I actually did not get tacos. Korean tacos has gotten so played out over the past few months that it's not even fresh anymore. Everyone and their grandmother is in the Korean taco game. Instead, I tried their "Grilled BBQ Lemongrass Pork Banh Mi." At $5, it's more expensive than most of the banh mi you could get in Manhattan's Chinatown, but goddamn was it tasty. Sweet bbq pork is accented with the crisp flavor of cilantro and just a hint of lemongrass. My only gripe would be that they give you too much pork and not enough bun since the bread kind of falls apart. Seriously though, that's not much of a complaint... I would never tell a food truck to give me less meat. That's just stupid.



I also got a Korean kalbi and kimchi burrito, because my ass... it is not fat enough yet. Yeah I took a bite of it to take a picture, what of it? Anyway, it is what it is. It is stuffed with marinated beef short ribs (and yes, they are juicy and flavorful), kimchi, lettuce, and rice. Super simple construction, but the final product definitely surpasses the sum of its parts. Not too spicy, which was somewhat disappointing, but pungent indeed. Also costing $5, I would get it again. At first I thought it was a tad expensive for the size, since I was left wanting, but I realized that somethings are worth the price. This is one of those things.
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