Post 56: Islamic Chinese for Uncle Ma (OC: Anaheim)

When I mentioned that there was Muslim Chinese people and hence, Muslim Chinese food, many of my co-workers responded that they never knew such people or cuisine existed.  So I decided to do a little research by browsing online and asking various family members about this unique group of individuals that happen to make delicious noodles and flatbread.

The Muslim Chinese are descendants of Arab and Persian Silk Road travelers.  Athough they have intermarried into the local Han Chinese population through many generations, they retain their religious beliefs such as the consumption of Halal meat and the restriction of pork from their diet.  Chinese Muslims are considered Hui people, which are one of the 50+ officially recognized ethnic minorities in China.  There is also a sizable ethnic Hui population in Taiwan as well.  In China, a large portion of Hui or Muslim Chinese are surnamed Ma (馬), meaning horse.  However, the root of the last name Ma supposedly originated from the Muslim name Muhammad.  It's no wonder that so many of the Islamic Chinese restaurants in Southern California are named Ma.

I dropped by Mas' Islamic Chinese Restaurant to grab some Muslim Chinese food, specifically the beef noodles and the sesame flatbread as a way to remember my Uncle Joe.  My Uncle Joe happens to be surnamed Ma and also happens to have parents who are Hui Chinese.  In fact, they even have a Koran that has been translated into Chinese characters.  But that all might just be coincidental...

Thin sesame flatbread (芝麻大薄餅)

listed on the menu as thin sesame bread with green onion

The sesame flatbread is what I came here for.  And let me warn you... the flatbread is no joke.  It's a platter of sixteen slices of sesame sweetness that will make your eyes open wide and your jaw drop completely open.  It's larger than an XL pizza pie, and it's something that even a family of four will have trouble finishing due to its sheer size.  The flatbread has a texture that is a cross between the firmness of a leftover French baguette and a spongey Ethiopian injera.  The look of it is also a combination of sorts... it reminds me of the delicate nature of an Indian naan but with the girth of a rustic Australian damper (bush bread).  When a co-worker took his first bite of this bread, he exclaimed, "it tastes like sesame."  No kidding.  There seems to be more sesame on this plane of bread than there are grains of sand on the beach.  But it's the sesame and the chopped green onions inside that form the base for flavor.  And it's the bread itself that forms an awesome foundation for whatever sauce or soup it gets eaten with.  Hint: it tastes great with the next item we ordered.



Green onion, ginger, and garlic stir-fried lamb (蔥爆羊肉)
listed on the menu simply as lamb with green onions

The absence of pork from the Islamic diet leaves a gaping void for a Muslim Chinese restaurant to fill.  And although Mas' seems to have filled that void with fish and seafood, it's lamb that seems to be the underacknowledged champion protein.  Each of the lamb dishes on the menu has been prepared with strong and flavorful ingredients (pickled cabbage, Chinese style barbeque sauce, chili peppers, etc.) to minimize the gamey taste that lamb naturally has.  The dish that we ordered was no different.  Upon first whiff the gamey taste dominates all other smells.  But one bite into the lamb, and the pungent garlic, spicy ginger, and hearty green onion immediately knock out that gamey flavor.  It's almost like Taiwanese stinky tofu... the smell is horrible, but one bite and you would think someone took Febreeze to the air.  Well... okay, maybe not so much.

Beef stir-fried with hand-sheared chow mein (牛肉炒刀削麵)

listed on the menu as beef dough sliced chow mein

Noodles! Oh, noodles and pasta are my weakness... especially freshly prepared noodles.  This "dough sliced" chow mein refers to the way that the noodle is prepared.  Rather than making hand-pulled noodles (think ramen or spaghetti), the chef takes a blade to a big ball of fresh dough and shears the noodles off one ribbon at a time (think machete).  For a less violent image, think about that Tillamook commercial that shows the block of sharp cheddar getting sliced one perfect perpendicular plane at a time.  But think a lot faster... and less perpendicular... and also imagen a vat of boiling water at the other end of the figurative machete plank.  After a quick boil and an even quicker stir-fry with bountiful slices of beef, bean sprouts, green onion stalks and scrambled egg, the result is a chewier, more elastic version of the typical Cantonese beef chow fun.

Beware though, there was a significant layer of leftover oil on my plate.  If you are an avid gym-goer, then by all means, help yourself to another slice of flatbread to swivel around and soak up the fatty juices leftover by the lamb.  But if it's tough for you to hit the gym (if you have absolutely no discipline like me), then maybe taking a swig of that hot tea (to wash away the oil) is a better idea.

I have yet to learn more about the Muslim Chinese dishes or even about the people and their history, but sesame flatbread is a good start to further exploration.  I hope future culinary curiousity reveals more surprises about a people or world culture previously unknown to you.  To new discoveries and to my Uncle Joe... until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20110725

Post 50.3: Goodbye Thousand Oaks, Part 3 - Authentic Chinese (LA: Agoura Hills)

The Thousand Oaks area has plenty of cookie-cutter restaurant chains that serve cookie-cutter American food.  It's tough to find a good mom and pop shop that serves anything remotely close to the cuisine from the home country.  The first time I was introduced to a local Chinese restaurant, I sat down to find a placemat with the twelve signs of the Chinese zodiac and a shining, metal fork.  Now... I'm not against Western silverware, but the lack of chopsticks in plain sight in an authentic Chinese restaurant is a bit unnerving.  And disappointing.  The second time a co-worker suggested Chinese food, I walked up to a restaurant with two abnormally large horses guarding the entrance... not my definition of Chinese food.

Thankfully, another co-worker discovered Hot Wok, a small mom and pop restaurant run by an immigrant trio from the northeastern region of China.  Rather than serving overly soy sauced Americanized Chinese chock full of water chestnuts, Hot Wok (滾鍋) rolls out truly down home items like hand-made dumplings (手工水餃), scallion pancakes (蔥油餅), and spicy broiled (poached) fish filet (水煮魚片).  Here are some of the dishes from Hot Wok that have saved me from the panda and the horse in T.O.




Black bean noodles
listed on the menu as cha jiang mien (炸醬麵)

With plenty of cucumbers and bean sprouts, this noodle dish is a little bit Chinese... but with a simple black bean sauce, this noodle dish mixes in the characteristic of Korean jjajangmyeon.  My ideal version would include a good portion of ground pork, but the black bean sauce is enough to make me feel right at home.

Leek & pork dumplings
listed on the menu under (韮菜豬肉水餃)

Hand-made dumplings around the Conejo Valley? Unbelievable.  Not only do they come close to the real deal, they are the real deal.  Flavorful pork is blended with fragrant green leeks and filled into freshly made dumpling dough.  These eight little heavenly clouds with just a touch of soy sauce truly spark a bit of inner happiness.

Pan fried pork calzone
listed on the menu as imperial pan fried meat pastry (京都肉餅)

I've never actually had this item ever before, but ironically, this pork pancake hits close to home.  The imperial pan fried meat pastry, as Hot Wok calls it, is like a calzone in that it's stuffed with different ingredients and enclosed with a bread-like carbohydrate.  Like a lasagna, though, there are multiple layers; ground pork and thin pastry are placed over each other one layer at a time within the outer casing.  Soft, crispy, soft, crispy... savory, salty, savory, salty... the textures and flavors confuse my brain.  And I'm also confused about what to call this item... pastry? Calzone? Pancake? There's one thing my brain knows for sure though... this thing is delicious.

Beef wrap
listed on the menu as beef roll pastry (牛肉捲餅)

While the imperial meat pastry is something I've never had before, the beef wrap is something I've enjoyed throughout my adult life.  Wrapped within a Chinese tortilla are slices of braised beef and an explosion of cilantro.  It's relatively small compared to the beef wraps at other restaurants, but you know what that means? I can eat the whole thing by myself.

Cumin lamb
listed on the menu as lamb with tze lan herb (孜然羊肉)

The mix of cumin and chili peppers with fatty curls of lamb creates a truly tasty flavor.  The spiciness is more fragrant than biting.  It's an addicting taste.  You'll understand when you place the savory lamb over a bed of steamed white rice.  The rice soaks up the spicy oils from the lamb, taking away just enough grease so that you can continue shoveling bite after bite into your mouth.

Stir fried loofah/luffa

listed on the menu as sauteed si qua (清炒絲瓜)

Luffa isn't your typical green vegetable.  It's not leafy like bok choy, and it's not as common as gai lan (Chinese broccoli).  I'm surprised this unique vegetable is even served outside of the San Gabriel Valley.  Not only does this vegetable turn into the exfoliating, body cleaning sponge once it's dried, it's also special in that it tastes more like a soft cucumber rather than the squash that it is.  Stir-fried lightly with just a hint of garlic, luffa will help you get your daily fiber intake in a tasty way.

Thousand layer pork
listed on the wall in Simplified Chinese only (笋千層肉)

The illusion of a thousand layers is created by slicing the fatty pork belly paper-thin and cutting the edges into the shape of ocean waves.  The thousand layers of pork belly sit atop a mound of young bamboo shoots, which are tender yet crisp to the bite.  Dig down deeper under the bamboo shoots, and surprise! You will find a bed of green spinach, which balances out the unhealthy fat of the pork.  The pool of brown gravy is another illusion itself.  Upon seeing the sauce, I thought that the dish was going to be overly salty, but a hidden sweet and savory flavor took over... if only the thousand layer pork was truly a thousand layers.

Sure, the first few items on the Hot Wok menu are orange chicken and kung pao shrimp, but hidden on the final pages of the menu are what save it from being tossed into the same category as Panda Express and P.F. Chang's.  Items that are also worth trying are a Korean style spicy seafood noodle soup (jjambbong) listed on the menu as three delicacies chow ma mien (三鮮炒碼麵) and Taiwanese beef noodle soup (紅燒牛肉麵).  I'm definitely going to miss this comforting lunch spot.  'Til next time, T.O., let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20110416

Post 50.2: Goodbye Thousand Oaks, Part 2 - Bollywood in the Basement (LA: Westlake Village)

Okay, so I'll miss the commute with my cousin.  But what will I miss about the food that's actually by the office? Immediately, Bollywood Indian Restaurant comes to mind.  Authentic Indian restaurants in the Thousand Oaks area are already pretty hard to come by, but trying to find one that's situated in the basement of an unnamed office complex complete with man-made ponds and mini waterfalls is even harder.  Hidden gem? Yeah, I'd say so.

The restaurant is located within walking distance of the office, but I've only ever employed my lower body as transport once.  I'm usually too impatient to walk (or wait) for my beloved Indian food.  Sipping on sweet lassi and breaking up bits of papad helps pass the time while favorites such as chicken tikka masala, lamb vindaloo and dal tarka are being prepared.

If there's any meal that suggests that gluttony should be limited, it's lunch.  We've all experienced the post-lunch food coma that enshrouds us with the onset of impending sleep, and I'm almost certain that afternoon comatose is not conducive to the work environment.  Thankfully, Bollywood serves lunch specials in smaller portions.  However, I have no discipline in holding myself back from gorging on delicious Indian food.  Ergo, bring on the extra samosas!

Chicken madras

In a world where tomatoes are being skimped on in fast food burgers, it's comforting to find that fresh tomatoes aren't being left out of dishes that absolutely require it... like chicken madras.  No tomato in my burger? Extra lettuce please.  But no tomato in my madras? I can't bear to imagine.  After all, it wouldn't be chicken madras without fresh tomatoes.  What I like about the madras has to do heavily with the confused veggie-fruit.  Its flesh provides some relief from the spicy madras sauce.  The juices are untainted by the spices... cooling, refreshing... like water from the backyard hose on a hot summer's day.  The tomato is juxtaposed nicely against the sauce, teeter-tottering the spiciness on your tongue.

Chicken tikka masala

My co-workers and I usually ask for two orders of the tikka masala (a spicy version for the tough tongue and a mild version for the weaker one) just to make sure there is enough to go around.  And as if we didn't already know that's it's the absolute favorite of the house, the dish is highlighted in red on the menu just so patrons take note.  It's not even the chicken that holds our attention; it's the creamy tomato sauce.  Over rice, slathered on naan, or even doused onto a samosa, the tikka masala sauce cannot be passed up.

Chicken tandoori

Numerous times a friend or co-worker has exclaimed that the chicken tandoori looks dry.  Well, friends, let me tell you... after one bite you'll know that the chicken, as white as the meat is, is as juicy as a pear.  The combination of garam masala, garlic, ginger, cumin and cayenne pepper along with yogurt give the chicken the special taste, and the mixture of red chili pepper and turmeric give it the color.  After being garnished with sliced onions and a wedge of lemon, the tandoori dish becomes unbelievably mouth-watering.  You'll be able to smell the exotic spices and the fresh citrus scent on your fingertips for hours after lunch is over.

Lamb korma

If the chicken tikka masala is the house favorite, the lamb korma is mine.  The korma is much creamier than either the madras or the tikka masala.  In fact, if you bring the plate close to your nose and take a whif, the korma has the distinct smell of butter.  What I really love is not the creamy, buttery fragrance but the bits of ground almond that sit throughout the gravy.  Every so often I'll bite into the bits of almonds, which conjures up images of biting into the hazlenut bits in a Ferrero Rocher.  Firm but soft to the bite, the almonds make all the difference.

Lamb vindaloo

Seeing aloo in the name of this dish means that the dish contains potatoes; potatoes with curry... what a tasty concept.  Toss in some lemon juice, and you've got a dish with a truly spicy kick.  The lamb vindaloo is the spiciest of the dishes thus far, so I would suggest tasting it after tasting the other sauces.  Like the lamb korma, the meat is slightly gamey but as tender as chicken.  The strong spices and the firey kick definitely help reduce the gaminess of the lamb though.  And to help reduce the fire? I'm sure glad I have some of that mango lassi left.

Lamb tikka

Like the chicken tandoori the lamb tikka is roasted with herbs and spices in a tandoori oven, and it's anything but dry.  Break open the lamb, and you'll see for yourself.  Glistening, gleaming meat juices flow down the nooks onto the plate.  The juice from the meat along with the freshly squeezed lemon juice create a sauce in itself.  Have it over the long-grain Basmati rice, and you may forget about the other dishes.

Dal tarka

I'm not particularly fond of vegetable only dishes, but I ordered the dal tarka once, and it completely blew my mind away.  The menu description is simple: lentils cooked with garlic.  But upon arrival at the time, I know it's not as simple as it sounds.  There are bits of red and splotches of green, probably from the chilis and the cilantro or parsley, floating atop the backdrop of yellow lentils.  Chopped slivers of garlic running throughout give this dish a warm and inviting taste.  It's neither as spicy as the others nor creamy either.  The dal tarka was the turning point for my anti-vegetarianism (the saag paneer and the eggplant bharta are great veggie dishes as well).  Dip the naan into the dal until the plate is running on empty.  And when that happens, bend the naan just a little bit more so that the taste of home can be scooped up by fluffy carbs and into your cavity of gluttony.

Pistachio ice cream

Many apologies for what I'm about to say.  The pistachio ice cream looks like cat food.  Why it's cut like Fancy Feast is beyond me.  But what I do know is that I prefer leprechaun green pistachio ice cream from Rite Aid much more than I prefer this.  It's worth the try, but if you can't stomach the color or grainy texture, try a different dessert item, or order another lassi for dessert.  I'll pass on this one... my food coma is about to hit anyway.

Each time the staff at Bollywood sees us, they probably wonder if their lunch menu has any relevance with us.  I'm sure they designed a lunch menu that tries to prevent the onset of food coma (light on quantity but heavy on flavor), but my Indian food gluttony absolutely defies their goal.  Sorry Bollywood, you're food is too good.  

Each time I walk out of this restaurant in zombie-like fashion, I realize why the restaurant is located in a dungeon of a space but happens to be surrounded by calming waterfalls and ponds.  It's the perfect place for the post-lunch, food coma nap.  Ooh, I see a bench.

Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML 20110326+0402

Post 43.3: Burma SuperStar, a Cinematic Experience (SF: Inner Richmond)

In the Richmond District is Burma SuperStar, an insanely well-known restaurant whose name has floated around in conversations amongst friends for ages.  I had only gotten into the car to leave from my afternoon meal at San Tung when Diana called and said that it was time to finally see about the hyped-up superb Burmese cuisine.  Eating at San Tung was like watching the matinee showing of an animated comedy, but eating at Burma SuperStar was like catching the midnight opening of a highly anticipated blockbuster.  To delve into my analogy further, I had just finished watching Tangled and was about to see Tron.  I felt reluctant yet excited the same time.

During the half hour wait, I squatted down Asian-style not to rest my feet but to hide from the ridiculously chilly San Francisco wind.  Dilemma.  I wanted desperately to step into the warm restaurant, but doing so would only require me to digest the food from San Tung immediately.  That was impossible.

We finally got seated in a corner, behind a pole and next to the front door that let in a draft each time someone walked in.  It was clearly the best seat in the house.  So the menu and ordering duties thrown upon me, I ordered every possible recommended item that four people could finish... an appetizer, a salad, a noodle dish, and a curry and a stew to pair with rice.  After much anticipation, we were ready for our cinematic experience with Burmese food.  Let the curtains rise...

The previews - Tea leaf salad

Fermented tea leaves (lahpet), peanut halves, slices of fried garlic, split yellow peas, sunflower seeds, and sesame seeds were the hodgepodge of ingredients that comprised the tea leaf salad.  As the server tossed the salad right at the table, we gushed a few oohs and ahhs the same way the film's audience laughs, gasps, and claps during a film's previews.  There is much excitement, and this portion of the experience is highly memorable... but previews don't tell the film's story, and the tea leaf salad is not an accurate reflection of Burmese food. 

There is always at least one preview that inspires your return to the theater.  That was the fermented tea leaves for me.  I focused my attention to the tea leaves because the distinct taste playfully beckoned with exotic appeal.  It's the pretty girl with the blue eyes checking out apples in the produce section.  It was not the shrieking baby crying for her pacifier in the bakery.  The taste is pleasingly potent and not overly robust.  It was clearly the star Burmese dish, and it's the one I would return for.

Courtesy reminder - Burmese samusas

The server brought with him a scent of curried chicken and potatoes, but the fragrance was gone as quickly as it had arrived.  Hands impatiently grabbed the deep fried raviolis for a quick dip in the sweet and spicy sauce, and in one swift motion, the samusas were on their way to digestive doom.  The scene reminded me of how theatergoers scramble to turn off their cell phones when the 'please turn off your cell phone' flashes on the screen.  Everyone knows that as soon as the cell phones are turned off, and as soon as the appetizers are finished, it's time for the main attraction.

Opening scene - Bun tay kauswer (coconut curry chicken noodles)

Sometimes the opening scene of a film tells you little about the plot.  Sometimes it tells you nothing at all.  Sometimes the scene is blisteringly bright, and it hurts your eyes.  Sometimes it's so dark that you can't even tell the film has begun.  It takes a few moments to adapt to the opening scene.  With my first bite, I tasted the spicy curry flavor of the noodles, and I wondered silently... is this what Burmese food really is? I'm not quite sure.  Is it good? Oh, hell yeah. One more bite, a different nutty, creamy taste from the coconut rolled over, under and around my tongue.  I tried to figure out just exactly what was going on, but the action continued.

First conflict - Pumpkin pork stew

The sudden onslaught of various spices brought on the first conflict between characters.  The big chunks of savory pork clashed with the even bigger chunks of sweet pumpkin.  My stomach turned between the suddenly spicy, suddenly sweet, and suddenly savory tastes.  Had the pork and pumpkin been cut into a slightly smaller size, the flavors in the stew would have been blended together more smoothly.  This was the point that if the conflict didn't get resolved, then the drama would escalate, and disaster would be imminent.  Just my luck... an even spicier curry had just been served.

Intense climax - Burmese style curry with lamb

The lamb curry completely exploited the foundation of conflict that the pork stew had set up earlier.  If the pork stew lit the match of spiciness, then the lamb curry was the strong wind that ignited the wildfire.  The intensity of the spice formed beads of sweat on my forehead, and I could not continue eating.  With my stomach churning and the beads of sweat falling down my face, I resorted to gasping for air and downing water by the glass.  The Burmese curry was like the confrontation between Simba and Scar, the final sinking of the Titanic, and the toys' escape from Andy's room. 

Conflict resolution - Coconut rice and tan poi combination

The solution to my stomach's conflict with the spicy curry was just a few spoonfuls of the sticky white jasmine rice that was sweetened with coconut milk.  Even the cinnamon and raisins cooked in the tan poi's basmati rice were just sweet enough to soothe the burning.  The combination of rice slowed the sweat, and well, that made everyone happy.  The uncontrollable fire of spiciness had been put out.

Fin, credits - Coconut ice cream

The dessert, like the final credits, are simply not worthy of a diner's time.  But for others dessert, like the final credits, is a required element of a complete dinner.  The coconut ice cream was sweet and refreshing.  It helped soothe the spicy rumblings of our just-finished Burmese meal.  What was unique about the ice cream were the hidden shreds of coconut flesh submerged within the confines of the spherical scoops.  Using my childhood experience of digging marshmallows out of rocky road, I went after the coconut flesh like I was searching for buried treasure.  Simply delicious. 

An eye-opening first experience with Burmese cuisine was complete.  We had moved from Inner Sunset to Inner Richmond where the Asian cuisine is just as delicious and just as well-known.  The food from either one of these areas beats the Chinese cuisine from Chinatown without a doubt.  This is where adventurous culinary explorers should begin their search for delicious delicacies.  There are rows and rows of excellent restaurants in the Sunset and Richmond districts... perhaps there are just as many stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.  It's impossible to conquer all the deliciousness in one visit to San Francisco.  That's probably why Yelp bookmarks pile up the same way the films in a Netflix queue do.

A gracious thank you to Justin for standing out in the freezing cold while Diana navigated her way through San Francisco... no thanks to her GPS.  Happy eating to all. 

Next post: Wining and dining smorgasbord

ML - 20110104/20101212

Post 28: First Time with Afghan (SF: Russian Hill/Nob Hill)

I slapped myself out of my low tide of culinary inspiration.  My inspiration is back.  Or... perhaps I'm just craving Afghan food, and I'm craving it enough to post about it.

My first experience with Afghan food was a couple of months ago when my manager (born in Afghanistan, raised in USA) brought some of her mom's homemade fare to the office for the team.  Although our team consists of just five people, there was enough food to feed the entire corner of our office.  (Uh... it's a pretty big corner.)

I had no clue what I was eating, but I know good food when I see it.  And logic tells me that if an Afghan mother (or any mother for that matter) is confident enough and proud enough to prepare party-sized trays of her own home-cooked deliciosities, then gosh darnit, that stuff has got to be good.

A look at what Marya brought in:


Homemade qabalee.  Qabalee is a combination of pallow rice, raisins, carrots, and meat buried within.  Pallow rice is rice that has been baked after having been tossed in syrup made with carmelized sugar.  Zeera, or cumin seeds, helps perk up the rice.  There's nothing that can come between me and the Japanese, short-grain sticky rice that I've grown up with, but I welcome long-grain rice from other cultures whole-heartedly.  Pallow rice, I welcome you into my life with arms wide open.


Shola.  Contained within the puffy rice is lamb and finely minced vegetables such as onions and celery.  At first glance this dish looks a bit like oatmeal, and the color doesn't do the flavor the least bit of justice.  If you judge this book by its cover, you're definitely gonna miss out.  It's sweet, but it's got spices.  It's soft, but it's not mushy.  It looks bland, but oh lord, it's full of flavor.  I just can't get over how the oil and juices from the meat seep from below... almost like hot lava bubbling up from a volcano, ready-to-burst... and how every other bite of the engorged sticky rice has a surprise of lamb.  Oh sweet heavens, this stuff is good.


Beef qorma.  These chunks of beef have been stewed with onions, garlic, ground coriander, crushed tomatoes, and cauliflower.  It complements the qabalee and the shola really well.  With the qabalee, the gravy (the qorma part of it) helps give the rice an extra hand in spice, but I discovered that this beef deliciousness really shines on a bed of the shola.  Because the shola is so thick, the gravy has nowhere to escape; the shola can enclose the meat and its gravy within its congealed grains.  Your mouth gets nothin' but flavor.  Perrrrfect.

Many thanks to Mrs. Hameed for introducing a new cuisine to all of us in the office.  Marya, you've got one mean-cookin' mama!