Post 51: Lunch - Tupperware Jjajangmyeon Surprise... Coincidence?

Every once in a while, we come across one of those coincidences that makes you wonder if it's anything more than just a mere alignment of stars.  In my last post I wrote that I would have liked to have ground pork in the zhajiang noodles from Hot Wok.  I'm pretty sure that my dad doesn't read my blog... or does he? When I opened my family of Tupperware for lunch, I found this:

Instant Korean jjajamyeon... with a side of ground pork!

My mom made the ground pork, and my dad packed the lunch... so it was my turn to put in some cooking effort.  Fair trade, no? I was wondering why my dad decided to put an entire package of instant noodles into glass tupperware, but when I was looking for a bowl at lunch, my realization hit... it was right there in front of me.  My dad really does think of everything.

What's your most recent surprise or coincidence? Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20110419_21

Post 43.2: San Tung (SF: Inner Sunset)

During my visit to San Francisco over the summer, a friend introduced me to Yummy Yummy, a Chinese style Vietnamese restaurant in the Sunset District.  Right next door to Yummy Yummy is San Tung Chinese Restaurant, a restaurant that is known for its dumplings, black bean sauce noodles, and fried chicken wings.  Some of the items such as the black bean sauce noodles are prepared in a Korean style, which makes me think that the owners are ethnically Chinese but born and raised in Korea.  But I never got a chance to ask.

Naturally, my style of culinary exploration required that I order all the well-known items on the menu.  And when I asked the server what else is good at the restaurant, he replied, "Nore more! You got 'em all."  

With the help of Pei, Joanna, Larry and Jon, we ordered just a few more dishes.  Just a few.

Complementary kimchi
San Tung's kimchi is drier in that it's not submerged in a bright red pool the way that authentic Korean kimchi is.  From my numerous visits to Korean style Chinese restaurants, I've noticed that the dryness is a characteristic of kimchi made by the ethnically Chinese from Korea.  However, dry doesn't necessarily mean bland.  The kimchi has tons of kick and spice, which helps break the monotony of flavor from the black bean sauce noodles.

Pork with green onions
It's a seemingly simple dish that is actually quite complex in flavors.  It's savory from the sliced pork, sweet from the garlic and soy combination, and salty from the onions (both green and white).  Like the kimchi the wok-fired white onions provide a bite that gets addicting.  I only wish I had a bowl of rice to go with this dish.  That the rice and pork would pair well is a complete understatement.

Pork dumplings
These little fists are filled with ground pork and shredded Napa cabbage, and once dipped into some soy sauce, vinegar, and chili oil, they pack a powerful punch of savory bliss.  I like that the skin is not too thick and not too thin.  I felt like I was eating a meatball wrapped with dumpling skin rather than just simply eating dumplings.  The shrimp and leek dumplings are popular here too.

Black bean sauce noodles
I noticed that there were two black bean sauce noodles on the menu... one was listed as dry and the other was supposedly... wet? I asked the server what the difference was between the two, and he responded, "one dollar."  Okay... funny guy.  So after clarifying that monetary value was not the answer I was looking for, the server let us know that both noodles include shrimp and calamari, but the dry noodles contain scallops, and the supposed wet noodles are made with beef and a creamier sauce.  If there's an Asian version of an alfredo sauce, this is it.  Black, Asian, alfredo.  Oxymoronic? Perhaps... but it tastes good.

The group voted 4-1 in favor of the dry noodles over the wet noodles.  But I think that the beef infuses more flavor into the wet noodles, and the creamier sauce just can't be beat.  Tip from the server: mix, mix, mix until the noodles are all black... no, not yet... keep mixing!

Spinach with garlic

The simply sauteed spinach with surprisingly lengthy stems helped diversify the color of the dishes on the table... and of course it provided a healthy dose of fiber for the digestive system as well.  The larger bits of garlic dotted throughout the forest of spinach was a pleasant reminder that the garlic was most likely diced by a chef wielding a large Chinese butcher knife and not spooned in from a jar of machine-minced garlic.  No shortcuts here.  The taste makes that evident.

Dried sauteed string beans

Is this the place to get the best string beans? Eh, maybe not.  But it is a decent place to get some crunchy greens.  The flavor is a bit shallow... on the surface level.  But either a hefty helping of salt and pepper or adding ground pork to the stir-fry just might amp the flavor up just a tad.  But otherwise, you can't go wrong with a side of these veggies.

Original dry fried chicken wings
Salty, sweet, spicy, sticky, crispy, crunchy, burning hot, heartburn-inducing... ahhh... all the components of a delicious chicken wing.  From what I remember, Yummy Yummy next door has a version of the fried chicken wing as well, but the wings here seem a bit more established... less saucy, more sticky.  The ratio of chili pepper seeds to dripping honey seems to have been perfected.  These wings indicate that they have been the veteran on the block for years.  Now if only my hot tea were a Tsingtao and if the restaurant chair were a backyard hammock... oh, how happy I'd be.  I'd lap up plate after plate of chicken wings, toss the bones to the grass below, get lost in the clouds and wonder how the hell the honey gets cleaned off the plates.  Shrug... smile.

So after all these dry, not dry, and wet descriptions in the names of the dishes at San Tung, I think I've finally figured it out what they all mean.  Dry doesn't mean dry... the dish still has a decent amount of sauce.  However, dry means that it's dry compared to the wet version of the dish, which apparently indicates a substantial amount of sauce. 

Still confused? No worries, just eat.  Perhaps that's the same ideology that so many locals have adopted because many make return visits on a consistent basis.  The locals know where the good, authentic Chinese food is, and I'll give you a hint... it's not in Chinatown.

Next post: Superb Burmese

ML - 20101229/20101212

Post 34.3: Korean-Chinese Food, Part 3

This continued post on Korean-Chinese instant noodles may perhaps be a slap in the face for Korean-Chinese food enthusiasts.  Perhaps it may even be slight blasphemy that I categorize instant jjajangmyeon under authentic Korean-Chinese food.  If it's any consolation to Korean-Chinese food lovers, I can tribute to post to the original jjajangmyeon from the warm kitchens of the Korean-Chinese who invented it.  Worshipers of jjajangmyeon must have craved the originally homemade noodle so much and became so impatient over its prolonged preparation that someone came up with the instant noodle version to satiate all those impatient palates.  Props to instant gratification.

I am a victim of hunger and impatience as well.  My solution for the new obsession over these Korean noodles in black bean paste was a trip to H Mart, where the cashier was an exemplary model of instant gratification himself.  Probably hungry from standing for hours at the register, the cashier satisfied his hunger by taking intermittent bites from a fried chicken leg (probably from the supermarket deli) while scanning the barcodes of the many brands of instant jjajangmyeon on the conveyor belt.  Looks like that Snickers commercial got to his head.  Hungry? Why wait? 

Curious to see what I bought? Why wait? Here are the other instant jjajangmeyon that I threw into the shopping basket... and how they turned out.

Unconfirmed identity.  Koreans regard jjajangmyeon is Chinese.

Step by step.  The powdered seasoning and veggies get cooked with the noodles first.

Noodle surfing.  The black bean paste sits waits to be mixed in with the ramen.

A mixed result.  Glistening black bean paste noodles ready for consumption.

I haven't tried this one just yet, but I think three packages of MSG-ridden instant noodles is way more than my body to handle in one week.

Jjajang men.  Yes, I am a jjajang man.

I took the bowl noodle to work for lunch, and I accompanied it with Kimmy's homemade haemul pajeon and a mini tub of kimchi.  Yum.

Anyone speak Korean? I have no idea what bokki means here.

 

The usual suspects.  The typical seasoning and soup base packets from within.

A sand dune of MSG.  The seasoning for this package looks deadly.

It's all here.  Protein, carbs, veggies, and deliciousness.

After pumping my body full of mono... mono... monosodium gluta... gluta... gluta... oiii... I need water... I think it's probably a good idea to stay away from instant packaged meals for a while.  My next meals with be cooked... the traditional way.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100928/20100920

Post 34.2: Korean-Chinese Food, Part 2

Rather than turning to more Korean-Chinese restaurants or perhaps a homemade Korean meal by request, I've decided to turn to the supermarket aisles to further reveal the unique background behind Korean-Chinese cuisine... although at first I wasn't sure what I would find or how much more of the unique background I could reveal.  But lo and behold... in the instant noodle aisle at 99 Ranch... instant noodles, Korean-Chinese style! (Perhaps I should have shopped at a Korean supermarket like H-Mart, but there aren't any nearby...)

I've only ever had Shin Ramyun (kimchi flavored, spicy, Korean instant noodles), but this pack of Chapagetti chajang noodle (jjajangmyeon) peaked my interest.  Has this always been in the supermarket aisle? And I've just never noticed? Hmmm... my recent discovery of Korean-Chinese cuisine led me to pick up this instant meal to give it a try.

Five minutes and a few packets of vegetable seasoning, soup base, and vegetable oil later... whoa.  All it took was one bite, and I was hooked like a captain on a pirate ship.  I think it was the MSG talking to me, but I was pleasantly surprised.  It was salty, but it wasn't death-from-sodium salty.  And no shampoo-like consistency.  If I had some kimchi on the side, it would have been perfect.  (Damnit.  I should have had kimchi ready!)

This is definitely a novel find in the quest for more Korean-Chinese food, and I am definitely returning to 99 Ranch for some more... This is firm evolution from the good ol' days in college when all I ate was simple chicken flavored Maruchan, spicy Shin Ramyun and the different varieties from Taiwan.

Until another Korean-Chinese food find, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100918/20100916

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