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

Post 33: Lessons Learned

Lesson One

This week I lost a perfectly good sandwich (well, half of it) to the floor (carpeted) due to my inferior lack of prioritization.  Upon returning from Vons with a freshly prepared deli sandwich, I unwrapped my sandwich and placed it on my desk near by keyboard.  I was so excited about my dark chocolate Reese's peanut butter cups that I swiveled my chair around to put the chocolate in the drawers of my desk.  When I turned around...

HUH?! My sandwich (well, half of it) was gone.  Where did it go?

The floor.  Apparenly my sandwich had rolled off my desk.  How did that happen? Well, I was careless enough to place it on the carpal-tunnel-preventer tool/object/device (AKA wrist rest).  And my bread was a round, torpedo-shaped roll.

The bread was here; the turkey was there; the tomatoes, onions, and pickles were everywhere.  Sadness.  I salavaged what I could... mainly the cheese (oh, my dear pepper jack), lettuce, and the other slice of bread.

So lesson learned.  Eat sandwich first; worry about candy bars later.  And be wary of where you put your unwrapped sandwich at lunch.  Do not, under any circumstances, leave it anywhere near the keyboard or carpal-tunnel-preventer tool/object/device.  Better yet, never eat sandwiches with round bread.  It's sliced bread from now on for me.  Or pitas.  Yes, pitas.

Lesson Two

Never buy samosas from gas stations in Woodland Hills, especially if they aren't made by Indians, and super especially if they've been sitting under a tepidly warm heatlamp.  Wait 'til you get a chance to hit up some true authentic places.  Ughhhhh.  Lesson learned.

Lesson Three

There is no lesson.  Don't repeat mistakes from the aforementioned lessons.  I'm going to NYC for some US Open tennis matches and some delicious grub.  Whoo hoo!

Posts to come... until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100903

Post 32.2: Kalbi from the Korean Countryside (LA: Koreatown)

When most people think of Korean food, Korean BBQ is probably one of the most common thoughts that pop into mind.  Images of sizzling pieces of tender meat on a cast iron plate or smoke produced from meat over a charcoal grill are what come to mind.  Scratch that.  What used to come to mind.  I've recently come across so-called Korean comfort food from Seongbukdong in Koreatown, a restaurant that specializes in Gyeongsang cooking.  After reading about this style of home cooking in C. Thi Nguyen's LA Times article and experiencing what she calls the "trinity" of the three most popular dishes, images of steamed kalbi rather than grilled kalbi now permeate the inner thought cavities of my brain.



There's nothing more than can be said about steamed short ribs (galbi jjim) that hasn't already been said by Nguyen, The Thirsty Pig, or Stuffy Cheaks.  The meat is so tender that you don't even feel like you're chewing.  It's not the same as gnawing on grilled kalbi and working your teeth around the bone.  Here, the meat has already been stripped from the bone by the service staff upon setting the porcelain bowl down on the table.  It's hard not to have just one chunk of beef.  The salty and sweet (soy sauce and sugar perhaps) flavor combination keeps you from putting your chopsticks down.



The braised mackerel is what made it really hard to put my chopsticks down.  But unless you're amazingly adept at grasping chopsticks, fish, and bones simultaneously, you have to put your chopsticks down in order to get all the bones out of the spiny fish.  The mackerel is blanketed by a mound of kimchi... the flavor is rich, salty, and spicy... and absolutely amazing-delicious. 




On the two separate occassions I've visited Seongbukdong, I've also ordered the rice soup (gook bap) and kimchi stew (kimchi chigae).  The gook bap is great to have with the spicy braised mackerel and the salty and sweet steamed short ribs.  It gives you the warmth of chicken noodle soup but the heartiness of a tomato soup (although neither chicken, noodle, or tomato are amongst the ingredients used to prepare the gook bap).  I felt almost cleansed with each spoonful of gook bap.  The gook bap washes the sauce from the braised mackerel's kimchi away like the way the rain takes the pollution from the sky.  Mmmmm... this would be great to have on a rainy day.  Or... great to have any day.  Both Karin and one of the staff say that gook bap is one of their favorites.



The kimchi chigae is not my favorite here because it's more sour than I would like, but the service staff say that Seongbukdong is known for their kimchi chigae.  It tasted authentic, and Tiffany didn't mind it, but I still enjoy a kimchi chigae that's less sour and more spicy.



Some of my favorite banchan are the pepper with fermented bean paste, the sweet red beans, and of course, the huge chunk of steamed egg.  But I still can't get over the mackerel's fatty meat enshrouded in the little quilts of kimchi.  It's not everyone's favorite, but it's definitely mine.  Based on the reviews on Yelp and comments from other bloggers, I'm definitely coming back for the marinated spicy pork.  I'm dreaming out it already...

Read the post on Seongbukdong from The Thirsty Pig here.

Read the post on Seongbukdong from Stuffy Cheaks here.

Read the post on Seongbukdong from Food Pants here.

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

ML - 20100901

Post 32.1: Text Messages to Yoo

If your last name happens to be Yoo, Kim, or Choi, it's pretty often that you will get an unexpected text message (or perhaps it's expected by now) from me that may read something like this:

i was just thinkin bout haemul
pajeon and i swear there's a
drop of drool on my shirt..

or...

OMG im craving HAEMUL PA
JEON right now.. GAHHHHHH..
bring me some PAJEON!

or perhaps...

OMG OMG OMG HAEMUL
PAJEON!!!!! haemuuuull pa
jeeeeooonnn + kimchiiiii... i
need it NOW please, like 
NOWWW... dies.

Last night Mr. Yoo helped me realized how utterly ridiculous it is for me to start texting anyone who is Korean in my phonebook everytime I get a craving for anything remotely Korean.  It'd be like someone texting me about Taiwanese or Chinese food items just because that person was craving it at that specific moment.  Those potential text messages may read something like this:

i cant sleep at night thinking
about taiwanese oyster pan
cake.. im dying thinking about
uh ah jzen.. oyster pancake
oyster pancake OYSTER PAN
CAAAAKE.

or...

i want some XIAOLONGBAO
right now! ohhhHhhHhHHhhhh...
DTF dumplings how i luuuuvvv
uuuuu

or perhaps...

BRAISED PORK RICE CAN
WE PLZZZZ get some lu rou
fan RIGHT NOWWWWW!!!
nom nom nom nom

Yeah, extreme ridiculousness.  And if you're ever on the receiving end of those text messages (apologies to all surnamed Yoo, Kim, and Choi in my phonebook), that's pure randomness right there.

So thank you for that revelation, Mr. Yoo.  I may stop myself from sending those texts out when I can't sleep at night... dreaming about haemul pajeon... but in honor of the possible termination of random text messages, I will dedicate a post to (no, not haemul pajeon because I've done that already) my newfound love... kalbi jjim.

See next post.

ML - 20100831

Post 31: Six Taste Food Tours - Delicious Dumpling

Another weekend... another tour!

I truly enjoy meeting the guests on my food tours every weekend.  Guests have different backgrounds, similar interests, and hail from all parts of the country.  I've had guests attend the tour who live within walking distance (right behind Din Tai Fung) and as far away as Hawaii and New York.

This weekend a hip mom and her cool kid came on the Delicious Dumpling tour in Arcadia.  It turns out this hip mom is an avid blogger.  What's hip mom's blogging alias? Black Belt Momma! And yes, she happened to be wearing a very chic black belt at the time.

You can read her blog entry about the tour here.

Karen and Ryan, thank you again for coming on the tour.  Hope to see you on another tour soon!

ML - 20100824

Post 30.2: San Francisco - Smorgasbord

Ahhh... to finish off the grubbin' in San Francisco, I've compiled a smorgasbord of all the remaining meals here and meals there into one post.  Meals such as dim sum didn't make it here because our stomachs were too hungry to wait for the picture-taking process.  Similar to my flashback of May 2009, here's a look at the weekend's smorgasbord in San Francisco:

Late-night grub @ Playground (SF: Japantown)

Playground is a Korean restaurant in the middle of Japantown.  Why it's there? I'm not quite sure.  But what I am sure about is that this restaurant-turned-bar/karaoke-house at night serves some damn good haemul pajeon.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  Ohhhh... haemul pajeon, you are my faaavorite.



Add some OB or Hite into the mix, and I'm one happy camper.  There's nothing like grilled meat (we had some kalbi too), fried carbs, and spicy food (we had some dukbukgi too) to pair with beer on a late Friday night.  Nothing.



Afternoon snack @ Stelladoro (SF: Western Addition/NOPA)

After a romp around Haight & Ashbury for piercings and tattoos, we ventured down Divisadero St. to look for more piercing and tattoos.  And since piercing and tattoos aren't really for me, I went to look for something to munch on while the posse pondered about the proportions of their proposed permanent body paint.  Eek. 



Luckily, I found Stelladoro, a Chinese-owned pizza hole-in-the-wall, hidden in the midst of multi-colored (like purple, turquoise and pink) hippie houses and tattoo parlors.  Even luckier for me... a slice of pizza was about $2, and it was amazing-delicious.  Only in San Francisco would a Chinese man open a pizza shop, have good pizza, and have the shop continue standing through the years.  This perfect-size portion of pizza held me over until dinner.  Score.



Brunch @ Cafe Divine (SF: North Beach)

Sunday morning means Sunday brunch, so I suggested that we all meander down the Mason St. hill to one of my favorite spots to eat and peoplewatch.  Even if you aren't sitting on the patio (AKA the sidewalk), the large, square windows at the restaurant allow the bright sunshine to shine in, which means that peoplewatching is a piece of cake here.  (I've never encountered a foggy moment here).



Breakfast here never disappoints.  The quiches are good; their egg scrambles are the best.  Alex mentioned that he wished that they used smoked salmon rather than the cooked salmon in their Bennies from Heaven (eggs benedict).  I agree.  But no matter.  The water is served in wine bottles, and that is pretty cool.



Dessert @ Cavalli Cafe (SF: North Beach)

I was first introduced to Cavalli Cafe last summer when Connie made a pit-stop here for some free wi-fi.  While she plopped her laptop down and set up shop, the shopkeeper introduced me to Cavalli's tiramisu.  (He says he makes it himself everyday.)  My heart melted when I met the square block of sweet desset.  Well, hello, tiramisu, hello.



Ever since my first bite of that decadent dessert, I've had it on my mind.  And on my cell phone.  I've chosen it to be the screensaver on my cell phone just to remind me of the introduction to Italian incredibleness from just over a year ago.  Constantly seeing that slice of tiramisu on my cell means I can easily text the kids in SF with, "I want tiramisu from that place on Columbus next to BOAAAAA... NOOWWW..."

The layers are so light and airy that if you take a sniff close enough to the tiramisu, some of that dusty cocoa powder may just fly up into your nose. Wow, what heavenly crack. And the first layer of marscarpone is so creamy that... as your fork presses into the slice, you're tempted just to give the marscarpone a little swirl as you pick it up. Yesssss. Just because you can.  And the lady fingers... oh, the lady fingers.  What lady fingers? Too late.  All gone.  Mmmmm...

Fuck cannoli.  This tiramisu blows other desserts out of the water.

Playground, Divine, and Cavalli are all fast-becoming my regular places.  Or... as regular as I can be if I live in southern California.  But if I'm in SF, you'd better bet that at some point during my trip, I'm going to be at any one of these places.

I'm going on writing hiatus until my trip to New York over Labor Day weekend.  Keep cool in the summer heat.  And until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100825/20100723-25

Post 29: Yummy Yummy Is Yummy Yummy (SF: Inner Sunset)

When I told Janet about my plans to visit the Bay Area, she wanted to take me to her favorite Vietnamese restaurant in town.  Scratch that.  She wanted to take me to her favorite restaurant in town.  It just happens to be Vietnamese.  She messaged me and said that I HAD TO try it.  And yes, it was in ALL CAPS.

So as the last meal before I left (my heart in) San Francisco, we stopped by Yummy Yummy in the Sunset District, where the Asian food is still authentic and hasn't yet been toursited out like it has been in other parts of town (namely, Chinatown).



Janet took charge of the menu and showed us some of her favorites:


Raw beef salad.  The paper-thin slices of beef (from which part I have no idea) looked just a bit like hot pot beef from the yellow styrofoam tray at 99 Ranch.  But the basil, onions (both fried and raw), and peanuts helped disguise it. 

Rare steak? Not a problem.  Raw beef? Eeek.  I squeezed a good amount of lemon on the beef hoping that the acid would cook the beef fast enough so it didn't look so red.  But as the second hand on my watch ticked away and as Janet, Grace and Alex ate away, I decided to suck it up and just inhale it.  Look, I'm still here.  Blogging, no less.  Ergo, the raw beef salad is safe.  Oh, and I forgot to mention... it was bomb diggity delicious.  A punch from the peanuts, a bite frm the basil, and a kick from the onions made the raw beef salad somethin' spectacular.  I was ready for another roll of beef.


Fish sauce marinated butter fried chicken wings.  Like whoa.  These little deep-fried wings and drumettes come out with fish sauce, strands of raw onions and carrots, and pieces of raw garlic poured over the top.  This item is not on the menu (just yet) and was suggested (more like pushed) to us by the boss.  (Janet, Grace and others on Yelp think that it's Yummy Yummy's counter to the amazing-delicious chicken wings from San Tung next door.)

The sauce over the top makes for the kind of crispy batter that begins to soften as time goes on, so eating quickly is a necessity.  The only problem is that the chicken wings are fried to a point so hot that my fingers felt a bit smoldered just from the steaming heat.  Damn.  Catch 22.  It's like trying to eat the most delicious ice cream cone outdoors in the hot summer heat.  It's panic trying to get through the entire cone before it melts, but it's pleasure with every successful bite.


Crab with spicy onion seasoning.  What it really should be called is crab with spicy onion, garlic, pepper, green onion, ginger, everything seasoning.  That's what it is, and that's what it tastes like.  It's a fresh whole crab in all its glory.  Although I'm a little sad that this crab had to die for this meal, I'm glad knowing that the crab died to make four hungry people happy. 

Everyone gets their own shell cracking tool, which is great because otherwise, we'd never be able to get inside to experience the pillow-soft sinews of the martyred crustacean.  And I'm not joking about the crab meat being pillow-soft.  If seafood stink and sanitation weren't such major factors, I'd take the sinews of the crab and stuff me a pillow! What a wonderful night's sleep I'd get... but seafood stink and sanitation are major factors, so... crab pillow I shall not make.


Spicy beef pho.  This pho wasn't your typical pho from ordinary Vietnamese restaurants.  The beef was sliced thicker... the soup had a spicy kick... and if you couldn't tell already, the color was a boiling red.  Oooh.  But the additions were the same as any: bean sprouts, basil leaves, citrus squeeze (lemon instead of lime here), and green chili peppers.

We ordered the pho with thicker, white flour noodles as opposed to the traditional thinner, clear rice noodles.  They were just as springy and elastic as expected from the typical pho noodle.  The best part? The soup, of course.  I didn't feel like I was slurping up an MSG-infested, sinkwater-colored bowl of denatured enzymatic proteins.  This... was just simply Vietnamese beef noodle soup.  I like.



Hear that Janet? I like.  Thanks, Janetabulous for introducing me to this Yummy Yummy-ness.  Next door to San Tung next time?

Until then, let's get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100817/20100725

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!

Post 27: Losing My Mind

I'm going just a little bit crazy.  I can't pinpoint where this feeling of going crazy stems from exactly.  It could be any number of things.

It could be that my diet today consisted of a Subway footlong (split with my grandma) and frozen Chinese dumplings from 99 Ranch (eaten alone).  Oh, and one measly little xiaolongbao that I had during my tour at Din Tai Fung today.

It also could be that half of the tour guests walked off without leave tips.  I swung it out of the ballpark last week.  What did I do wrong this week? And even if I sucked at being a tour guide (which I know I do not), they could leave a tip because the Din Tai Fung xiaolongbao made them happy, right? Food service industry peeps, I feel ya.

Revelation.  Maybe I don't mind the tips part as much as I mind that I just spent $400 to fix my broken windshield (and that my tips were supposed to help cover this payment.)  Oh, the hazards of driving 100+ miles a day to/from work on the 101-134-210... Damn you, LA freeways.  Damn you and your random flying debris.

Wait.  Or... it could be that I'm reading all the posts from The Girl Who Ate Everything... starting with her first few posts from November 2004.  This girl's slight insanity (I would like to meet this girl one day) is fun to read, but I honestly think it's getting to my head.  I feel a little twitch in my neck right now.

I went to a coffee shop today to blog about my first experience with Afghan food when I visited San Francisco last month... the internet shut down five minutes after I arrived.  Even if the internet had been working, I don't think I could get myself to write about the delicious Afghan food after losing inspiration from my Subway footlong half.  Get Jared and the $5 footlong jingle outta my head, please.  Noooow.

Gah.  I'm losing my mind.  Help me.  I need haemul pajeon.  Foie gras.  Uni.  Pork belly and kimchi.  Hell, bring on the cabeza tacos.  Even a freakin' bowl of ramen sounds good right now. 

In-n-Out? Will this help? It'll have to do for now.  I will not let Subway footlong and frozen dumplings be the day's menu.  BABY I LIKE IT.  Enrique, get the hell out.

ML - 20100814

F.A.T. News 1: Guy Fieri, Airline MPG

Here are two interesting F.A.T. (food and travel) articles that I read in the news this morning...

He'd be my choice for coolest uncle:
Guy Fieri, Chef-Dude, Is in the House
article by Julia Moskin, NY Times

Waiting for the day Boeing makes a Hybrid 797:
A Prius With Wings vs. a Guzzler in the Clouds
article by Scott McCartney, Wall Street Journal

Let me know what you think.

ML - 20100812