Taiwan Day 11: Eat and Drink at Saute Restaurant, a Quick Fry Shop / 在33區熱炒生猛海鮮邊吃邊喝 (Taipei: Zhongshan District / 台北市: 中山區)

Quick fry stores are Taiwan's way of combining the restaurant and bar.  It is a blend of food and drink that fuses together so many styles of eating that it is not easy to describe the kind of venue that it is.  While it is frequented after work as a venue for a combined happy hour and dinner, it really brings together aspects of Chinese dim sum, Japanese izakaya, Spanish tapas, and American happy hour all under the same roof.  Dishes can range from grilled meat on sticks, both raw and cooked seafood, deep fried pub food, and the ever popular Chinese style stir fry presented on small plates.  All of the food is meant to be consumed with beer or wine.  Art, Diana, and I dropped in to Saute Restaurant (33區 熱炒生猛海鮮) to get our grub and guzzle on.

What goes better with beer than fried chicken wings (南乳炸雞翅)? It's almost obligatory.  Thin and crisp skin on the outside with juicy meat on the inside make for an irresistible starting snack.

Food on a stick is just about as good as anything deep fried when it comes to pairing food with beer.  These cumin lamb skewers (孜然羊肉串) really hit the spot.  They were well seasoned from tip to tail with an earthy spice that begged for a chasing of beer.

Speaking of beer, the three of us were having Taiwan Beer (台湾啤酒).  The national namesake has a special taste as it incorporates the locally grown Formosa rice (蓬萊米) into its brew, adding a subtle hint of sweetness and making it very drinkable.  Taiwan Beer comes in many varieties.  Art and Diana tested out the new mango and grape flavors; they are sweeter and have less alcohol content.  I stuck with the draft version.  Its short 18 day shelf life keeps it fresh.

I have had so much chilled bamboo (鮮竹筍) on the trip already that you would think I have exhausted my taste for it, but this panda food has got such a cleansing mouth feel that it is tough to avoid.  It works as a great palate cleanser between the greasy appetizers and the forthcoming courses.

Being from an island nation that was formerly a Japanese colony, the Taiwanese are big fans of fresh seafood, and nothing is fresher than fish recently hauled in from the Pacific.  We actually saw the restaurant staff haul in a massive tuna fish into the restaurant while we were eating, so we had no choice but to order the tuna sashimi (鮪魚刺身).  We also ordered the salmon sashimi (鮭魚刺身) for good measure.

This happened in the middle of our meal... pretty neat.  It is always good to see restaurants using the freshest ingredients for their customers.  That was one massive monster of a maguro.

A favorite of any Taiwanese establishment, whether restaurant or bar, is three cup chicken (三杯雞腿).  33區 uses thigh and leg meat only in their preparation.  The result is an undeniably juicy soy and wine infused chicken.  The abundant use of garlic, ginger, and fresh basil is simply mouth watering.  Great with rice, great with beer... just so good.

Veggies! It just so happens that the three of us are on the same page regarding the vegetable consumption.  Loofah and clams (蛤蜊絲瓜) is a homey dish that we have all had during our childhood.  While more famously known for its body cleaning purposes, loofah is actually a squash like vegetable that, to me, is like a cross between cucumber and zucchini.  The fresh clams adds a seafood essence to the dish.

As the meal draws to a close, the yearning for heartier and more substantial fare grows.  Scrambled eggs and shrimp (滑蛋蝦仁) warmed us up and balanced out all the cold beer we had.  The greasy eggs and succulent shrimp provided a warmth that we really needed.  But even then, I'm pretty sure we drank some more.

There were two more dishes, but by this time in the meal, we had so consumed so many bottles of beer that it was not easy to recollect the names of the dishes... or even what we had eaten for that matter.  I would bank them being stir-fried seafood dishes though.  Cheers!

Until next time, get your drink on.  Let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

33區熱炒生猛海鮮 (Area 33 Quick Fry Seafood)
台北市中山區長安東路一段63-1號
No. 63-1, Chang An East Rd., Section 1, Zhongshan District, Taipei City

An equally authentic establishment in Los Angeles:
Uncle Yu's Indian Theme Restaurant
633 S. San Gabriel Blvd.  Suite 105
San Gabriel, CA 91776

ML - 20130710

Post 94: Pork Belly Tacos and Much More (LA-SFV: North Hollywood)

With all this talk about pork belly, I was hankering for more.  Bow & Truss, a relative newcomer to the LA food scene.  It is self-titled as a modern Spanish taverna, and some of their most popular dishes include the empanadas, paella, and of course, pork belly tacos.  Fellow foodie Angela and I dined here before meeting up with other friends downtown.

Soon after we were seated, our server Nicole dropped by our table with castelvetrano olives on the house.  The firm, green olives were basted in none other than olive oil.  They were sweet at first, slightly salty yet savory olives were a welcoming start to our meal.

The first item on the menu we ordered was the cheese & charcuterie board.  The assortment of meats and cheeses was a playground of jamon, salchichon, chorizo, and Felino sausage.  There was also mahon, a semi-firm, cow's milk cheese and caprichevere, a soft cheese made from goat's milk. The caprichevere was smooth and easy to spread over the crostini.  Although it was made from goat's milk, it was surprisingly milder than the mahon.

Spread around the playful platter were Bow & Truss' house made jams.  The first was a pineapple banana jam with serrano and chili pepper flakes, and the other was a pumpkin peach jam with vanilla bean, all spice, and cinnamon.  Two house mustards complemented the duo of jams (the grain mustard was a favorite), and the remaining cherry tomatoes, carrots, caramelized onions, and spicy sunflower seeds dotted the charcuteriescape.  This charcuterie board was an absolute delight.  It was the one that we continued to pick at throughout the meal of inventive dishes.

We followed the charcuterie with the highly recommended empanadas.  The petite pastries were packed with button mushrooms, red peppers, and cotija cheese.  A tamarind crema and tamarind soy sauce were served alongside the empanadas.  While Angela and I tried one dip at a time, the server suggested that we taste the two sauces together at the same time.  Mushrooms, peppers, cheese.  Savory, sweet, salty.  Crema, tamarind, soy.  Savory, sweet, and salty again.  Smart suggestion, Nicole.

Our third dish was the highly anticipated pork belly tacos.  The tacos were fresh and vibrant in color... and they were stacked high with toppings like Mexican sopes.  The pork belly was shredded, a eyebrow raising change from the typical square cut.  It was a good eyebrow raising change, for the meat was tender and succulent... although I am not quite sure if using shredded pork increased the difficulty of eating the taco or not.  Atop the pork belly were shreds of carrots, cilantro, pickled jicama slaw, all of which helped give the taco a refreshing, citrus taste.  The avocado sauce was a perfect substitute for salsa, which might have overpowered the fresh feel of the tacos.  Oh, and by the way, the pork belly is really good.  Really, really good.

As we were ready to close the meal with some paella, the manager brought out some chicken confit tacos, with handmade tortillas, arugula, anchiote paste, and pickled shallots.  Dennis Christensen, one of the managers of Bow & Truss, warned us that the chicken tasted like pork.  The chicken tasted like pork? It didn't make sense.  But I took one bite, and well, yes, the chicken tasted like pork.  This extremely flavorful chicken was very substantial... like if the chicken, before it was sacrificed for our glee, was a bad ass alpha male chicken that ruled the hen house.  That was the kind of breast pounding poultry that died for these chicken confit tacos... the delicious oxymoron kind.

Next to the pair of chicken confit tacos were two mixed mushrooms tacos (the head chef must really hate odd numbers) piled with cotija cheese, pickled jalapeños, and chives.  They were very juicy.  In fact, the mushroom blood that dripped all over almost made the taco slurpable.  We really enjoyed the tickle of spiciness from the jalapeño and the hint of saltiness from the cotija.  The use of mushrooms in both the tacos and the empanadas were smart meat substitutes.  I didn't even realize the dishes were carne less.

Stuffed to the brim already, Angela and I attempted to dig into a beautiful cast iron dish of seafood paella.  Of the four choices of paella on the menu, the shelled option is cooked with clams, shrimp, mussels, scallops, chorizo, and chicken.  The shrimp was highlight of paella because it was cooked just barely through... still tender and translucent, not tough and overly white.  The clams and mussels pointed skyward so that the freshness of the shellfish was apparent on first glance.  The rice itself was flavorful from absorbing all of its surrounding tastes.  Ah, this dish was beautiful in both taste and appearance.

Finally, the last course of the night was a tequila lime tart that was so, so good.  The texture of the tart itself was more like a buttery, holiday shortbread cookie.  The pool of honey on the side helped the dessert be naturally sweet, and the lime helped cut the sweetness in a balance check.  The honey and lime combination just added to the perfection of the tart.  I almost lost consciousness watching the honey drizzle each time I dripped the tart into it.  It was so good that we took two extra tarts home for our friends.  And each of them agreed that the tequila lime tart was simply delicious... a great way to end the meal.

Thank you to charismatic Dennis and congenial Nicole for taking the time to explain each dish and list each ingredient and method of preparation.  Thanks also to Angela your adept services in lighting and photography.  Of course, a big thank you to Erinn of Platform Media Group for setting me up with Bow & Truss and helping me discover a new way of having pork belly.  It was an awesome from beginning to end.  The charcuterie, tacos and the tequila lime tart really sealed the deal for me.  We are definitely returning in the near future.  Until the next pork belly craving, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20121020

Post 65.3: Taipei - Traditional Taiwanese, Part 3 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

As the last post in a three-part series on traditional Taiwanese food, I have decided to dedicate this post to a restaurant group that is known for their traditional Taiwanese dishes. 

The Shin Yeh restaurants (欣葉) are known for preparing local fare in upscale settings.  Many of the restaurants sit on upper level floors of buildings that overlook Taipei's main thoroughfares.  Some are even set in lounge like atmosphere with dim lighting, trendy music, and novel cocktails.  This is a stark contrast to other traditional Taiwanese restaurants like Little Lin's Seafood and Sit Fun, where the fresh ingredients are laid out by the entrance in refrigerators or over ice.  According to its history, the owner of the original Shin Yeh knew that Taiwanese fare was a simple food and dedicated herself to developing it into a gourmet cuisine that could be served in banquet settings.  The food here is still whipped up in that distinct Taiwanese style of fresh ingredients and simple preparation.  And of course, the main ingredient in the dish is given the spotlight as the essential star of the show.

My family and I dined at shinyeh' table, a sister restaurant of the original Shin Yeh that targets a younger crowed.  Shinyeh' table (蔥花) occasionally names their dishes in creative ways, utilizing puns and analogies and other tongue-in-cheek methods of capturing the guests' attention.  Not all the dishes have amusing names though.  In fact, most of them are pretty standard, but the ones that do bear amusing names really do stir up a chuckle here and there.

Pork song rice (猴囝仔拌飯)
Pork song (肉鬆), also known as pork floss in some bakeries, is a staple in every Taiwanese household.  It's shredded, dried pork that acts almost as a condiment in items such as rice porridge, sandwiches, and even hot soy milk for breakfast.  The texture has been described to be similar to cotton candy, something that melts in your mouth but still provides a slight crunch on first bite.  It's a great addition to basic, steamed, white rice.  The crunch of the pork song is initially a contrast to the steamed rice, but it eventually blends in with the fluff of the rice as easily as the famous little chocolates melt in your mouth.

Wok seared rice noodles (蔥花米粉炒)
Although a rice noodle dish may seem relatively simple, there is a lengthy preparation that occurs prior to the final step of stir-frying.  Vegetables such as cabbage, carrots, celery, mushrooms and snap peas need to be cleaned and chopped... pork or chicken should be sliced into strips, and even eggs have to be scrambled.  Most of the preparation, however, is focused on the rice noodles.  The best rice noodles are said to originate in a oceanside city called Hsinchu (新竹), about one to two hours outside of Taipei.  The makers of rice noodles there hang the strands of noodles out to dry with the natural sunshine and ocean breeze of Hsinchu in the same way that laundry is hung out to dry in the yard.  It is this process that gets each rice noodle dried into individual threads, and it is that separation of the noodle that makes the best stir-fry.

Poached cuttlefish with five spice sauce (無情軟絲)

Squid served with a side of soy sauce paste and wasabi, fresh shredded ginger, and pickled radish is a dish that captures the essence of the Japanese influence on Taiwanese cuisine.  The soy sauce paste, as the name indicates, has five different spices in it, only one of which I can actually pick out... minced garlic.  It probably took more time for the chef to fan out the squid and to shred the ginger than it did for him to actually cook the sublime sea creature.  Simplicity and presentation in detail... the epitome of a Taiwanese dish.

Wok fried loofah with garlic (翻滾吧絲瓜)

Loofah, garlic, and oil... the simplicity here gets carried all the way to mom and pop shops in Agoura Hills.

Great Wall of pig intestine (半里腸城)

The title employs the Great Wall of China (chang cheng / 長城) as a homonym for walls made of intestine (chang cheng / 腸城).  Presented in a way that mimics the Great Wall across the Strait, the mustard greens and soy will protect you from the invading fears of consuming a digestive organ.

Crispy fried soft shell crab (啵棒軟殼蟹)

Deep fried soft shell crab.  Crispy basil and spicy chili.  Done deal.

Prawns stir-fried with tropical fruit (果粒纖蝦)
We all know honey walnut shrimp, but I can guarantee that these prawns dotted with pineapple, kiwi fruit, and bell pepper confetti will completely wipe honey walnut shrimp out of your mind afterward.  A mouthful of natural sweetness oozes from the pores of the slightly crispy shrimp with each bite.  It's a stir-fried version of what I'd eat everyday if I were trapped on a deserted tropical island.

One of the dishes that had an amusing name was a pork and bamboo stir-fry called Teacher I'm So Sorry (老師對不起).  I didn't understand the attempt at humor at first, but my aunt explained that back in her elementary school days the teachers would use bamboo poles to smack the rear ends of misbehaving students.  Consequently, someone must have thought of combining strips of bamboo shoots with tender slices of pork in a stir-fry dish.  It's humorous in a slightly morbid way.

Some of the other amusing names are listed below.  These will require a knowledge of Mandarin Chinese and perhaps a familiarity with the Before & After category on Wheel of Fortune to fully extract the humor:

• 歐麥咖哩麻辣燙 - a spicy curry seafood hot pot roughly translated to Oh My G--rry Spicy Hot Pot.  Fill in the blanks with either 'od' or 'cu,' and the idea reveals itself. 
• 心肝寶貝 - Precious Liver; a liver dish using liver as a pun for honey, precious, or baby as a term of endearment.  In English it implies that the liver is precious because it's an essential organ to the body.  Well, yeah...
• 白鱈公主 - Snow White Codfish; steamed codfish that uses the character for codfish (xue / 鱈) as a homonym for the snow in Snow White (xue / 雪).
• 虎咬豬 - Tiger Bites the Pig, a pork belly pacman bun (gua bao); the bun supposedly symbolizes the tiger's mouth, and the pig (pork belly) is trapped within its jaws.
• Q呆呆杏仁豆腐 - Dummy Almond Jelly (also known as almond tofu), a dessert that implies that the jello is so dumb that it just sits in the bowl idly.
• 這個那個西米露 - tapioca dessert that had the name slightly altered from Ziga Zaga (zig zag with an Asian accent) to zhege nage, which means this one and that one, implying that there are plenty of tapioca balls in the dessert.
• 等超久蔥花小麻糬 - Waited So Long House Mochi, titled so because the patrons truly wait for a lengthy period of time for the kitchen staff to prepare the hand-made Taiwanese rice cakes to order.

Hopefully this series of posts help everyone gain a better understanding of what traditional Taiwanese cuisine is all about.  It's rare to find this kind of truly authentic Taiwanese food Stateside, so perhaps this will encourage foodies around the world to take a trip to Taiwan for a culinary inspired trip.  Until next time, let's get S.O.F.A.T.

shinyeh' table (蔥花)

台北市 大安區/ Taipei City, Da An District

忠孝東路 4段 201號 2樓/ Zhongxiao East Road, Section 4, No. 201, 2nd floor

How I get there:

MRT: Zhongxiao Dunhua Station (捷運忠孝敦化站)

exit no. 2; entrance is across the front door of Starbucks

ML - 20110903

Post 45: Oh Mah Gahh...Omakase! (LA-South Bay: Torrance)

The omakase that we had for Ashley's birthday was an inspiring way to start off the new year.  I've had the omakase at Kantaro Sushi in Torrance before, but I left my camera at home the last time.  Luckily, I remembered to bring it this time so I could document some of the whoa moments of the meal.

Tuna sausage with cucumber, potato salad with corn
B-b-sole and tuna sashimi with ponzu, ankimo monkfish liver

When Duke first saw the pictures from the meal, I remember him saying that some of the courses looked pretty intense.  The first sashimi course with the entire fish chillin' right on the plate was definitely intense.  I mean... we were eating the flesh of the fish while the body was lying right in front of us.  Intense. 

Bluefin toro and amber jack sushi, hirame halibut and ika squid sushi
Deep-fried whole b-b-sole with nuggets and roe

Later, that same fish was grabbed from our plates with bare hands.  The cute little missus of the restaurant (do I call her Mrs. Kantaro?) whisked the dreary, gray fish carcass away to the kitchen only to return with a golden, deep-fried whole fish.  That was definitely intense.

Alaskan ikura salmon roe and Santa Barbara uni sea urchin sushi
Anago freshwater eel, spicy tuna hand roll and organic tamago egg
Mini chirashi and salmon sushi with cream cheese

But what else would omakase be? Omakase is the chef's table.  It's his way of showing the guest how skillful, creative, and imaginative he can be.  It's gotta be intense.

The only other place I've ever had omakase was at Wakasan in Westwood... another birthday outing.  Wakasan's omakase involves more hot food items such as croquettes, hamburger steak on cast iron grills, chicken hot pot, etc.  That experience, just like this one, was intense.  You can read about it on Duke's blog.


Azuki red bean ice cream for dessert

Happy birthday, Ashley! 

And thanks for the description, Duke.  That one word said it all.

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

ML - 20110108

Post 38.2: Continue the Birthday with a Michelin-star Meal (LA: Hollywood)

So after the candy corn truffle pig helped Connie find all the tasty truffle treats, it was time to eat the truffles in prepared form.  Connie suggested Providence, which to me, was previously just a city in Rhode Island.  But I soon found out on Yelp that Providence was (and still is) a fine dining establishment awarded with two Michelin stars in 2009.  It was where we were about to get our birthday dinner.

On the tour earlier that morning, a few of the guests on my tour had visited Providence and suggested ordering either the 9-course full tasting or the four hour, 16-course chef's menu.  Hearing about the four hour, 16-course chef's menu delighted my heart but sunk my stomach.  I was just recovering from a stomach bug, and I was pretty sure that multiple courses of raw seafood (although my absolute favorite) paired with many glasses of wine (also a heart's delight) was not a good idea.

We didn't end up choosing any tasting menus, but we still had a splendid (I think that's the right word) dinner, welcomed by a very warm and charming captain Matt who accommodated us in every way possible.

Not everything is pictured, but here are the highlights:


Amuse bouche
gougere
salt cured trout
lemon gelee, bubu arare, creme fraiche, trout roe, 24K gold leaf

Dinner began with one bite into a savory bread smaller than a ping pong ball.  The gougere reminded me of a cream puff sans the filling.  It's traditionally made with Gruyere, and I'm sure there was a hint of a salty cheese in the light and airy bread, but I don't quite remember what it tasted like since my appetite trumped my memory at that point.

My second bite was also light but at a more profound depth of taste.  The cubes of salt cured trout provoked a comparison to sashimi and smoked salmon... it's less raw tasting than sashimi but more firm and lighter than lox.  The coolness of the creme fraiche cast a refreshing feel on the tongue and helped blend together the crunchy little rice crisps (bubu arare) and bursting trout roe, which was surprisingly not as salty as salmon roe (ikura).  Having a petite soup helped truly acknowledge the individual tastes of the shotglass-sized dish.  And it's an effective tool for pushing away the 24K gold flakes in order to save them for the final bite...


Wild bigeye tuna tartare
fresh wasabi, American caviar, quail egg, creme fraiche

crispy nori rice crackers

I couldn't decide which appealed to me more... the fresh, perfectly circular round of deep, red tuna... or the intricate design of a... twig? a flower stem? a tree branch?... artistically painted onto the plate with an expanding sprawl of creme faiche.  Black on black in automobiles is elegant, but white on white in the culinary world is, as I just discovered, quite exquisite.

The popped quail egg yolk was just enough liquid bind to hold the tartare together on the coral-like fan of cheese crisp and the seaweed crackers made from rice (not pictured).  By the time I was through with the tartare, the plate looked as if it had never been touched.  Every bead of black caviar had been consumed... the edible purple flowers digested... and even the beautiful radish thins hidden away.

Santa Barbara sea urchin
Champagne beurre blanc, fines herbs
cremant de bourgogne blanc de blancs, domaine parigot & richard

I wish I could tell just what exactly what was in this eggshell of delight, but I can't.  On the menu I could only recognize champagne and fines herbs.  My French extends to croissant and stops at Bourdeaux.  The Santa Barbara sea urchin is an exciting way to experience uni hidden under a dense fog of egg yolk, but I think I still prefer my uni cold and as raw as possible.

Italian white truffles
pasta alla chitarra

I noticed that the menu lists the truffle as the main attraction with the pasta as the accompaniment.  At first, I thought the logic was a tad strange, but when the dish arrived it was clear to me why the truffle is the main attraction.  Matt hand-shaved the Italian white truffle over the creamy, al dente updo of noodles and made the truffle fall like snow on Christmas in New York.  I had one eye on the weather and one eye on Connie who was about to die from seeing her love for this rare fungus fall from the heavens just inches from her face.

"Just throw the whole thing in there!"

A surprising outcry came from Connie's direction.  Shock.  Blushing.  Laughter.  As Matt gingerly placed the white truffle back into the mobile safe deposit box, he explained to us that the piece of truffle he had just shaved onto our plates was more than eight hundred dollars... remember to breathe, Connie... Matt was not about to throw that whole chunk of gold in the form of fungus in there.  No way.


Spaghetti alla chitarra
Santa Barbara sea urchin, Maine lobster, pea tendrils, jus de crustac

Bites of lobster as al dente as the pasta itself folded into a delicately sweet and sour subtlety helped ease me into a drunken stupor.  Did I mention the teardrops of fresh sea urchin resting on the sides of the pasta hill? Those could have been my own teardrops of happiness...

By this point in the meal, I had become satiated with culinary happiness.  There was nothing else I could put into my body that would elevate the level of enthusiasm that my drunken taste buds were experiencing.  But still I continued to twirl the wavy pasta noodles onto my spoon, lethargically scooping up the noodles with my fork ever so carefully.  Letting a strand of spaghetti fall off my fork was parallel to the scene in The Dark Knight when the Joker is dangling off the side of the building with his life literally in Batman's hands.  

I wanted to let go because there was no point in pulling it back to safety... but it was so precious that letting go would be... for the lack of a better word... unfortunate.

Melon soup
vanilla ice cream, strawberries, lime granite

Good.  Refreshing.  Sweet.  The description reflects how much I cared for the melon soup by now.  The melon soup was awesome.  Really, it was.  But food coma was setting in at dinner, and my tongue, taste buds, and stomach were tired... and apathy is taking over as my body succumbs to the exhaustion from typing an epic length blog entry at the end of a day at the office.

Chocolate and rooibus ice cream
brandied cherries, eggless creme brulee, chocolate and cherry powder

Rooibus.  Another ingredient I'm not sure of.  (It's an herb native to Africa usually made into tea... thanks Matt.)  I still don't know what rooibus tastes like on its own, but chocolate and rooibus ice cream is delicious.  The brandied cherries were tart but sweet, and Matt ensured that the alcohol was burned off... but I secretly wish that it wasn't.  I could have done without the eggless creme brulee though.  It had a texture more similar to tofu or the soy version of creamy, dairy products.  Better yet... put the egg back into the brulee, and the dessert would be perfect.  We pressed on to finish the dessert... chocolate powder and all.

Petit fours
yuzu caramels; chocolate macarons; vanilla gelee

I liked the creativity of combining the spice and citrus of yuzu with the sweet and creamy caramel.  Connie didn't.  She liked the bite-sized chocolate macarons.  Eh, they were alright.  And neither of us liked the vanilla gelee.  It was dense, gelatinous, and encrusted with sugar like a gumdrop.

But it didn't matter anymore.  The good parts of the meal were great, and it more than tilted the balance in favor of deliciousness.  I'm disappointed that my stomach wasn't ready for some raw oysters and a 16-course epic adventure, but that just means one thing... I'll be back! An awesome start to the birthday season... Connie, thank you... I wish you 25 more years of happy eating! Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20101019/20101016

Post 34.1: Korean-Chinese Food, Part 1 (LA: Koreatown)

Just recently Wade introduced me to Appetite for China, a blog whose writer has much of her attention directed towards the many facets of Chinese cuisine.  What fascinates me about her posts is that she doesn't just focus on the eight classic schools of Chinese cuisine (Cantonese, Szechwan, etc.) or just any random Chinese dish or restaurant that she finds.  According to her About page, she highlights some of the hyphenated styles of Chinese cooking such as Portugese-accented Macanese, Peruvian chiffa, and Indian-Chinese.  What sparked me to write a post was her feature on Korean-Chinese cuisine, a type of food that Rose took me to try at Young King in Koreatown.

So what exactly is Korean-Chinese cuisine? Simply put, it's Korean style Chinese food. 

Still hard to grasp? Well, in America we have American style Italian food... I'm sure you've had the BBQ chicken pizza from CPK.  We also have Mexican-Chinese here in Los Angeles... the wonton soup with a splash of lime juice and chili oil from China Cafe at Grand Central Market is slightly bewildering, enormously tasty, and incredibly unforgettable.

 In Japan and Taiwan, there is Japanese-Italian... have you ever had squid ink pasta or teriyaki chicken pizza topped with seaweed and mochi balls?

 

And in Korea, there is Korean-Chinese.

The common explanation is that this Korean style of Chinese food was developed when northern Chinese, most likely from the Shandong region, emigrated to Korea and brought their style of cooking with them.  Over the course of many generations in Korea, what was originally Chinese cuisine became adapted to the tastes of the Korean tongue using local ingredients.

Another difference between Korean-Chinese food and traditional Chinese cuisine is that Korean-Chinese is served with kimchi and the raw onions with black bean paste.  Typically, the rest of the banchan is excluded from the meal.

Most of the Koreans I know agree that the three most well-known (and arguably best tasting) Korean-Chinese dishes are:

(1) Jjajangmyeon (Korean: 짜장면, Chinese: 炸醬麵): noodles smothered with a gelatinous black bean sauce and shredded cucumbers.  Korean jjajangmyeon is similar to the Chinese zhajiangmian in that the foundation of both stem from black bean paste.  However, jjajangmyeon is distinctly different from the zhajiangmian from China or Taiwan in that it uses not only onions but also caramel in the sauce, which zhajiangmian does not.  At first sight, it is clear that Korean jjajangmyeon is creamier; the texture and feel reminds me of shampoo.  Shampoo?! Yes, next time you have jjajangmyeon, see for yourself.  It's like having Pert Plus in black bean fragrance on your noodles sans the bathroom product offensiveness.  (Apologies if I have ruined the noodles for you.)  And it has a much darker color (almost black), and the Chinese version has a brown hue.

(2) Jjambbong (Korean: 짬뽕, Chinese: 炒碼麵): a mix of seafood and noodles in a spicy stew.  Although the spiciness of the dish makes it my favorite Korean-Chinese food, it is also the spiciness and wavering kimchi taste that makes me question how Chinese this dish actually is.  I've asked many of my Korean friends to translate jjambbong for me.  I hoped that the result would sound similar to the Chinese words so that I could correlate the two dishes (like jjajangmyeon and zhajiangmian), but to no avail. Jjambbong is simply a slang Korean word meaning mixed-together, a mess, or hodgepodge.  Even the menu's translation of jjambbong to chaomamian by Lunar Restaurant is nowhere close to anything remotely Chinese that I know.

(3) Tangsuyuk (Korean: 탕수육, Chinese: 糖醋肉) sweet and sour meat, typically pork but can be prepared with beef.  While Chinese sweet and sour pork is typically stir-fried, the Korean version is deep fried with a thicker breading.  Here the sweet and sour sauce is served on the side.  When I bit into the tangsuyuk it oozed with fattiness and reminded me of a softer version of a pork rind.  The excrement of oil was fascinating for my tongue and detrimental to my heart, but thankfully, Chinese food is always served with hot tea.

But unthankfully, it is damn diggity hot in the restaurant.  No joke.  Eating at Young King was no different from eating in old school Chinese restaurants as a kid in the early 90's.  Really.  Old, shaggy, dirty carpet.  Loud, noisy kitchen.  Waitstaff in unkempt white blouses and black restaurant shoes.  You know the rubber-looking black shoes with black shoelaces in the shape of Twinkies that all Chinese restaurant staff wore in the 90's? Yeah, they still wear 'em here.  Oily tabletops.  Oh, and it's hot.  Sweaty hot.  But no one seemed to mind.

Plate after plate of tangsuyuk arrived at every single table.  It was so freshly prepared that I could see the steam billow from the plate of tangsuyuk three tables away.  Damn.  And bowl after bowl of what I can only imagine as jjajangmyeon and jjambbong arrived at every single table.  Including ours.  Four bowls, actually... one order of each noodle, split into individual bowls for the two of us.  Why? Cuz we're fatties.  And because almost every Korean I know has a hard time deciding between jjajangmyeon and jjambbong, as evidenced by jbih's blogspot.

Since many Koreans have learned of the origins of this special cuisine and order it in the Korean-Chinese restaurants they grew up with, this type of Korean-Chinese is regarded as Chinese food.  However, since many Chinese and Chinese-Americans have rarely, if ever, come across this version of Chinese food, they consider it Korean food simply because it's not the kind of Chinese food they grew up with.  Some Korean-Americans designate jjajangmyeon as Chinese (hey, it sounds like zhajiangmian), while the same ones who throw the black bean noodles in the Chinese category may question how Chinese jjambbong is.  Whether it's really Korean or really Chinese whittles down to pure opinion.  One thing is for sure though... Koreans definitely have a special place on their palate for jjajangmyeon.  Ask any Korean you know.  I'd like to meet the one Korean who doesn't like jjajangmyeon.

The only way anyone is going to appreciate the food for what it is... is to simply take the food for what it is.  Don't think about whether the food is actually Chinese or Korean... don't compare jjajangmyeon with zhajiangmian or even think about whether you like one over another.  Don't think.  Just eat.  Bae go pa.

Thanks to Wade for the link.  Funny... he's Chinese and gets mistaken for Korean all the time.  Even in China.  

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

ML - 20100915/20100313