147. Bay Area - Gather in Berkeley for Spicy Pancetta Pizza (Berkeley: Downtown)

When Katrina said that we should head to Gather for pizza in Berkeley, I thought she was out of her mind.  The kind of pizza that I know in Berkeley is from either Fat Slice and Blondie's, the floppy, extra cheesy kind of pizza that drips with pepperoni oil.  You know, the ones that Cal students snack on in between late night study sessions.  Well, Gather opened my eyes to a completely new category of pizza in Berkeley.

We started with the Summer Bean Soup, a mixture of white beans and other seasonal root vegetables with fresh basil pesto.  It was vibrant and full of flavor... a proper way to jump start our appetites for the pizza.

Of the four pizzas on the menu, we both thought the Pancetta Pizza sounded the best.  When the pizza arrived, we could tell just by looking that we made a good decision.  The thinly sliced interwoven layers of pancetta were all crisp... and the savory saltiness gave the first bite a depth of flavor that made me want to moan with pleasure.  I might have.  But neither Kat nor I noticed as we were too fixated on the deliciousness that was our pancetta pizza.

Did I mention that the creamy egg yolk was oozing throughout the center of the pizza? Did I also mention that the yolk and cheese were blending together and that the golden, unadulterated combination of the two was still bubbling as the server set it down in front of us? Oh, have mercy... the pizza gods... they can cause such simultaneous pain and pleasure.


The best thing about the pizza was that it was spicy.  I'm not talking about just a little heat or a slight kick.  I mean a really ballsy flame.  The kind that real food lovers can handle... the addicting kind that keeps us coming back for more.  The chili was a smart move, Chef.

I am dreaming about it already... the warmth of the crust, complete with its peaks and valleys from hand pressing the dough, the sprinkle of oregano on the dropped egg... and of course, the pancetta... the crispy, salty, delicious pancetta.  What a magnificent pizza.  I'm definitely gathering in Berkeley for this again.  Crossing the new Bay Bridge to the East Bay is fine with me.  So until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Gather
2200 Oxford Street
Downtown Berkeley
Berkeley, CA 94704
BART: Downtown Berkeley

ML - 20130906

Post 115: Portland - Finally Made it to Pok Pok Thai (Portland: Southeast/Richmond/Clinton)

I finally made it to Pok Pok in Portland.  I have heard about this place from many, many friends for a long, long time.  Anyone who lives in Portland, has been to Portland, or is about to make a trip to Portland knows about this place.  Is this the best Thai restaurant in Portland? Possibly.  Is there even a large ethnic Thai population in Portland? Hardly.  So why have people have said that this is the most authentic, non-authentic Thai food they have ever eaten outside of Thailand? What the hell does that even mean?

Well, the creator and head chef of Pok Pok is Andy Ricker, and he is a white man.  The common culinary conception is that a white man cannot make good Asian food.  But if that is the rule, then there are always exceptions to the rule.  Chef Andy Ricker is the exception.  He presents what he calls Northern Thai peasant food to the people of Portland (and now Brooklyn) with recipes and ideas that he picked up from his travels to the Land of a Thousand Smiles.  But let's not get it twisted.  No one comes here to eat pad thai.  It isn't even on the menu.

What the people of Portland come to eat on the patios of Pok Pok is pure and unpretentious peasant food.  It is the people's food... dishes that Northern Thai people make at home on a daily basis.  It is not the food that can be found at restaurants or at the typical street stall down some soi in Bangkok.  It is food like muu paa kham waan, a charcoal grilled boar collar dish.  It is rubbed down with garlic, coriander root, black pepper before cooking and glazed with sugar and soy.  Sliced and served with a sauce of spicy chili, lime, and garlic, it is considered a great pairing with alcohol.  With its fatty succulence and the fiery spice, it is definitely something that should be eaten with beer.  Rather, it is something that must be eaten.

Ike's Vietnamese fish sauce wings are another must-eat on the Pok Pok menu.  It is not entirely Thai as it actually originates from the Vietnamese home of the restaurant's daytime cook, but it still has a bit of Thai flair with its spiciness.  It is marinated in fish sauce and sugar, deep fried, and then tossed in more fish sauce and minced garlic.  These glorious and spicy chicken wings go great with beer too.  We ordered one spicy and one traditional plate each.

Other daily Northern Thai dishes include kaeng hung leh, a homey sweet pork belly and pork shoulder curry, khao soi, a curry noodle soup, and papaya pok pok, or what we commonly know as green papaya salad.  Since we were in a large group, we tried all of these dishes and more, and I know that I would be happy to eat these dishes at home... peasant or not.

Not knowing how these dishes actually taste in Northern Thailand, though, sparks my curiosity.  Perhaps it is time for a return visit to Thailand.  But for now there is much more food to be had in Portland... and a few drinks too.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20120914

Post 110: Collaboration with Whisks & Ruffles - Pork Belly, Part 2

In my previous post, I shared the first part of my collaboration with Angelina Ang Lee of Whisks & Ruffles.  This post will continue with more pork belly deliciousness.  Rather than braising this time, I grilled some thinner cuts of the pork belly.  And so continues the life of an inner fatty...

I used thin cuts of pork belly strips with beautiful fat on the trim.  The pork belly was marinated with a mixture of gochujang (Korean hot pepper paste), a bit of soy, sesame oil, chopped perilla (sesame seed leaves also known as shiso), and sesame seeds.  I added some ground black pepper too, but salt is not needed since the gochujang and soy sauce provide enough of that saltiness.

I faux grilled the pork belly using a Korean stone wok, which works great because it heats up quickly and retains the heat even after the stove is turned off.  The strips were cooked at medium-high heat.  The temperature must be hot enough for the fat to sizzle.  Must... hear... sizzle! Like... cooking bacon! Mmmmm... Flip the meat once only, and cook until it's brown and crisp on both sides.  If the heat is high enough, the meat will be fully cooked through because the cuts are not very thick.

Tiffany, my Chinese-American from Taiwan but also raised in Korea friend, came over for a taste test.  We ate the pork belly wrapped with fresh perilla leaves, raw sliced garlic, jalapeños, and diagonally cut scallions (see instructional clip by yours truly).  We also had sides of kimchi, yellow pickled daikon, and kimbap (Korean sushi or rice rolls) from the supermarket.  See Angelina's post on homemade kimbap to prepare your own.

I have been cutting down on some carbs lately, but the grilled pork belly would also work really well with steamed rice.  No worries, I could never cut carbs out entirely, but for now, meat and greens are good enough for me.  If the jalapeños aren't spicy enough for your taste, an extra dash of Sriracha hot sauce also helps add a spicy yet sweet flavor to your dish.  Or try Angelina's method, which is to add dried hot peppers... Indonesian style. 

Check out what Angelina came up with in the Lee kitchen using pork belly two ways.  Her double recipe storm includes a pork belly braised low and slow, which looks absolutely mouth watering.  Her second recipe is something that her mom used to make in Indonesia called babi kecap, a simmered stew of pork belly, tofu, and hard boiled eggs.  Ah, Mom's home cooking... my mouth is literally drooling right now...

Great job, Angelina.  I truly enjoyed our coast-to-coast collaboration.  Let's do it again soon! Until the next collaboration, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20130221

Post 95: Ontario Street Staples (Chicago: River North/Near North Side)

Just a few weeks ago I was in Chicago on business, so I thought I would head into the city to grab some Chi-town staples.  I only had two hours before my return flight back to LA, so I planned to hit as many places as I could in those two precious hours.  My strategy was simple... walk down Ontario Street.  From Al's #1 Italian Beef to Gino's East to the Rock n' Roll McDonald's to Portillo's... many of the well-known Chicago eateries are located down that path.  I could eat and walk... eat and walk... and make my way towards Michigan Avenue before heading to O'Hare.  I thought it was an ideal plan, but it was a plan that even my stomach couldn't handle.

During my first visit to the Windy City four years ago, many of the locals suggested that we try the Italian beef sandwich.  Well, we were too busy stuffing our faces with deep dish pizza that we never got around to trying the local favorite.  So this time I made sure to hit up Al's #1 Italian Beef first.

Knowing that I was about to embark on a marathon of eating, I originally planned to order just a small sandwich.  But go big or go home right? So when the lady at the counter asked me what size, I said LARGE... like a boss! The sandwich came wrapped in about half a dozen sheets of paper, and it was safe to say that each sheet of paper was thoroughly soaked with beef juice... delicious, delicious beef juice.  I took one bite, and I knew I was going to finish the whole thing.  It was juicy, oily, and beefy... all the things that I love.

What made the sandwich even more amazing-delicious was the addition of spicy peppers throughout the sandwich.  And I definitely appreciated the somewhat unexpected crunch from the celery slices in between layers of the beef's pillowy tenderness.  Oh, and the bread... the bread... all the nooks and crannies behind the crust had soaked up all the excess beef juice making it even softer.  Biting into the bread was like squeezing a sponge full of au jus into my mouth.  Gahhh... I may have moaned subconsciously when I took my second bite.  Either that or the way I was consuming that sandwich made the patrons at the nearby tables notice because they were definitely staring at me.  Eh, the sandwich had my full, undivided attention.  Hot damn, that Al's Italian beef sandwich was mind numbingly good.

So I wrapped up what I had just unwrapped, toss the remains in the trash, and headed back out into the chilly breeze.  Granted the temperate was probably warm by Chicago standards, but I'm a Southern California kid born and bred, so I was ready to hop back indoors from the 50 degree elements.  Good thing I was walking down Ontario Street because Portillo's was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Al's.

I had been to Portillo's Hot Dogs on my first visit to Chicagoland, so I was ready to reunite with the beloved Chicago dog that I remembered.  With mustard, relish, onions, tomatoes, celery salt, spicy sport peppers, and a pickle spear, the Portillo's hot dog had burst of flavor with each bite.  It was just as I had remembered.  And although the dog was good by itself, beer made it even better... I was in heaven.

Now done with an Al's Italian beef sandwich and a Portillo's hot dog, I was ready to get up and order something from Barnelli's Pasta Bowl and then jump across the street for some deep dish from Gino's East, but as soon as I stood up, I felt everything that I had just eaten settle into the pits of my stomach.  Perhaps it was time for a digestive walk.  We'll save all that pasta for the next visit to Chi-town.

So I walked east toward Michigan Avenue.  I walked, and I walked... and it felt like I had not digested a lick of food.  I had come across Quartino, an Italian style tapas restaurant that I had dined at the night before.  I bet anyone that knows me could guess what I did next.  Yup, I plopped myself up at the bar, and before I knew it there was a platter of charcuterie and an ice cold glass of beer spread across the counter.

The post on Quartino is next.  Until then, let's get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20121019

Post 93: Pork Belly Octo-nom (LA: Koreatown)

When I decided to dedicate the month of October to the most pleasurable portions of pork, the first thing I thought about was pork belly.  Not bacon? What a shock.  Ah, pork belly... it is a luxuriously thick slab of fatty pork that, at least for me, gives me more exhilaration than eating just basic bacon no matter how smoked, cured, or maple syruped it has been.  One of the most memorable meals of delicious pork belly that came to mind was the eight courses of decadent grilled pork belly from Palsaik Samgyupsal Korean BBQ in Koreatown.  Palsaik, meaning eight colors, specializes in BBQ of pork belly.  There is beef on the menu also, but most patrons select one of two multi-course set meals of pork.  The first selection on the menu, the one we ordered, is an ample amount of food for three people with moderately large appetites.  The meal comes with other grilled vegetables, a salad, seafood stew, fried rice and side dishes... all of which can be refilled by the server with the push of a glutton.  Er... button.

The eight different flavors include (in order of suggested consumption)... wine marinated, original, ginseng, garlic, herb, curry, miso, and spicy gochujang.  There is even a ninth flavor of smoked pork belly.  It is left off the classic palsaik, but it can be ordered a la carte by the strip or by the tray.  The restaurant stresses the healthy aspect of eating the pork belly, which is laughable at first.  But after exploring the health benefits of the eight flavors posted on their website (ginseng stimulates metabolism... herbs alleviate stress... curry helps prevent Alzheimer's and certain cancers, etc.), it is understandable as to how each ingredient can be good for you... those healthy ingredients should probably be consumed without it being slathered over slices of fatty pork belly.  Speaking of which... each cut of the fatty pork belly has been scored so that the supposedly healthy marinades can permeate the protein more easily for the utmost of flavor in each bite.

The first cut is wine flavored pork belly, which the server tells us has been marinated in a red wine overnight for eight to 12 hours.  Having the wine break down the proteins in the meat for that many hours allows for a texture that is tender and succulent.  I have not figured out why the wine marinated belly gets served prior to the original flavor yet... although I speculate that the remaining seven cuts of belly are not as tender as the wine marinated.

Following the wine marinated cut is the original pork belly.  It is the cut in the purest form without even a sprinkling of salt or pepper...  Returning from the tenderness of the wine marinated cut, this is a reminder of what unaltered pork belly tastes like.  It's crispy... it's fatty... it's juicy.  It is around this time that I notice the many things happening on the table at once that it is difficult to focus on only the pork belly.  I am distracted by the seafood stew that is still boiling away... and mesmerized by all that is gleaming on the table.

After the original flavor is one that has been rolled in ginseng.  The ginseng flavor is extremely smart because it is almost a palate cleanser.  It is a bit unexpected but not unrealistic to have contrasting flavors to help cut the grease of fatty pork belly, which there is a lot of exuding from the strips of glistening pork.  Tilting the grill pan is another method of helping to cut the grease.  All the extra fat runs downward into a convenient hole at the bottom of the tilted grill.  What is not captured by the black hole helps to fry the kimchi and spicy soybean sprouts.  That goes without saying that kimchi fried in lard is quite delicious. 

The last of the first four is garlic pork belly with actual sliced cloves of garlic.  The pairing of meat and garlic is very natural.  It is one of the first items in the kitchen that cook will grab to cook or marinade with.  The fragrance and aroma of the garlic is powerful, and it becomes even more potent after it is grilled.  It may even help induce an orgasmic climax during the meal.

Of the final four, herb marinated is next, with dill as the predominant tasting herb.  None of the herbs are thought of as typically found in Asian cooking, so it was surprising to taste these flavors marinated into the pork belly.  I appreciate the break in seemingly Asian flavors knowing that curry and miso were coming up.  More than halfway through the meal now, food coma may start to set in.  I found myself zoning out and staring at all the cuts of pork belly sizzle away on the grill.

Curry tasted like a blend of Southeast Asian curry flavors more like the taste of Malaysian curry rather than an Indian or Japanese curry.  It was a little heavy for my taste, especially because I was expecting something a bit lighter like Japanese curry, but it was still good.  The Southeast Asian curry uses its somewhat more exotic spices to provide more of a punch.  Because it is one of the heavier tastes it is nice to wrap it around some radish paper or have a bit of the pickled japaleños and onions to cut the heaviness.

The penultimate flavor of pork belly was miso paste.  There were no surprises here.  The miso flavor provided the saltiness that I expected from eating pork belly, which gave it more of a bacon quality.  I especially liked this flavor because the miso paste crusted up really well on the grill.  It has a great grilled color and crisp texture on the exterior.  Yum.

Hot/spicy was a favorite for all at the table.  It was flavored with gochujang, a spicy Korean chili paste.  Although the red glow from the marinade warned of the impending heat, the slight sweetness of the gochujang does not overpower your taste buds with overwhelming heat or bite.  There is a smoothness to the spice that allows you to continue eating it until there is no more.  It really was the best ending to all of the flavors... understandable why they saved the best for last.

Our eight colors of pork belly was quickly followed by a boiling cast iron pot of seafood stew.  From crab to shrimp to mussels to octopus to tofu to udon noodles, we eat everything until just the little dregs were leftover... but there is just enough stew to reduce down into some intense flavor that is perfect for making fried rice.  The server arrives to cut and fold the leftover kimchi and soybean sprouts into the rice along with remaining onions, mushrooms, and seaweed.  If the pork belly has not already made your stomach full, the last of the fried rice will.  In the couple of times that I have dined on Palsaik's eight flavors, we have never finished the last of the fried rice.  No matter... when the rice is done, we dig in.

We are full and satisfied from the eight, delicious flavors of pork belly.  This meal has inspired me to make my own pork belly octo-nom.  I am convinced that my collection of eight pork belly flavors are going to result in mouthgasms across the land just like Palsaik's incredible palate of eight has done for us.  So until then (when I wow you with my pork belly octo-nom), let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20120811

Post 77: Fun Size Korean School Food (LA: Koreatown)

My roommate recently introduced me to School Food Blooming Roll, a restaurant that makes food that Korean students would typically bring in their lunch boxes to school.  This concept is quite unique, so I was eager to gather some friends for some famous Korean fare.  We ordered School Food's two most popular dishes, a super spicy tteokbukki and an epic platter of nine different kimbap. 

The rice cake typically used in tteokbukki are tubular and cylindrical, but School Food serves their version in a shape more similar to marshmallows, tater tots or fun size Snickers bars.  It's as if the restaurant purposely cut the size of the rice cake down so that elementary school children would enjoy their lunches more.  Who doesn't like miniature versions of everyday food?

The flavor profile is not just spicy but a melange of sweet and spicy together.  The thick, crimson sauce from the first taste of the tteok is sweet, but the peppery spice penetrates the taste buds soon after.  This wasn't the spiciest tteokbukki I've ever had, but it was pretty damn close to it.  We all know that gulp after gulp of water doesn't help, but I think that the spiciness led to a bit of temporary insanity because that's all I did to relieve the pain of the spice.  It wasn't until I munched on the kimbap and the accompanying sweet mayonnaise that my tongue calmed down and my ears stopped ringing.

Our massive platter included the following types of rice rolls: beef, garlic and bacon, anchovies, squid and squid ink, smelt roe, Spam, tuna, spicy anchovies, and kimchi.  And just like the tteok, the kimbap were bite sized too.  Korean style rice rolls are usually bigger than Japanese style sushi, so it takes more than one bite (depending on the size of your nom) to munch on the entire thing.  Luckily, these itty bitty kimbap were junior sized, which meant that popping a rice roll into your mouth didn't require much effort.  Hmm... is this the lesson we want to be teaching in schools?

My favorite kimbap were the ones that had tuna, Spam, and squid ink wrapped inside.  The tuna and Spam weren't anything out of the ordinary, but the saltiness of canned tuna and canned lunch meat really complemented the neutral flavor of the white rice well.  Japanese sushi relies heavily on the freshest raw fish to taste good, and since Korean kimbap focuses on ingredients other than raw fish, I found that the stronger the flavor, the more I ended up liking the kimbap.  

The squid ink kimbap, on the other hand, didn't quite have a strong flavor.  In fact, the squid was subtly sweet, and the flavor of its ink didn't really shine.  We all liked it just because the rice was black, and it seemed almost like a novelty food item.  It was unique, and we have the evolutionary bodily function of a certain cephalopod to thank for it.

After seeing the dishes, I could really imagine Korean school children carrying the fun size versions of tteokbukki and kimbap to class.  The food wasn't amazing delicious, but it was definitely fun to eat.  It was almost like revisiting the school cafeteria to have some of those nostalgic chicken nuggets, fish sticks... or for those of us from AUSD... crispitos! By the way, where can we find crispitos? Simply reminiscing about those school lunches from the good ol' days isn't going to cut it for me.  I'm going to need to munch on some real crispitos real soon.  But until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20120225

Post 63: Taipei - More Szechwan Flavors / 更多川味 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

Although beef noodle soup is the supposed national dish of Taiwan, it is rumored to have origins in the Szechwan region of China.  Since its creation, beef noodle soup has been altered by the many generations of Taiwanese to what it is today.  However, other Szechwan-branded dishes such as mapo tofu (麻婆豆腐), hot and sour soup (酸辣湯), and dan dan noodles (擔擔麵) have generally remained constant throughout their culinary histories.  There may have been substitutions for different or better quality ingredients and perhaps slight tweaks in flavors to suit regional palates, but for the most part, these famous items are still considered Szechwan dishes.  Chili House Restaurant (四川吳抄手) in Taipei is a great place for a taste of these traditional spicy Szechwan flavors... but it's also a great place for discovering some non-spicy items too.



On my previous visits to the restaurant, I had ordered the usuals: red chili wontons (紅油抄手), super spicy mala noodles (麻辣麵) that numb your tongue, and hot and sour cabbage pork (酸白菜肉絲) wrapped in steamed shaobing pockets (燒餅).  This time, though, I had a sudden craving for fatty pork.  I doubt the Szechwan origins of this dish, especially because the only remotely spicy ingredient in it is minced garlic, but hey, a craving is a craving.  The English translation of this dish is cold white cut pork slices (蒜泥白肉), which doesn't sound appetizing in the least... so let's just use my translation: fatty pork in minced garlic and soy sauce.  Yum!

Hey, that's exactly what it is, anyway.  Lean slices of pork, which are blanched just quick enough to cook the meat, are bordered by thin, wrinkles of fat without a hint of grease.  Before anything else is done to the pork, it's chilled so that the meat becomes stretchy and tender, and the curls of fat on the pork taste almost al dente.  Soy sauce paste, a thickened and more pungent version of soy sauce that is widely used in Taiwanese cooking, is later drizzled over the top of the meat.  And the minced garlic? Already in the soy sauce paste.  No need for rice.  It's like chomping on bacon and not worrying about the eggs.

But I guess you can't really eat at a restaurant that serves Szechwan cuisine without ordering any spicy food at all right? Bring the red chili wontons, please.  In fact, these red chili wontons are exactly what anyone coming to this restaurant should order.  After all, the name of the wonton dish (紅油抄手) is in the name of the restaurant (四川吳抄手). 

The chili wontons come six in an order, and they come sitting in a puddle of soy and chili oil... unmixed.  You can relish in the tossing, mixing, and marinating of the flappy, Chinese ravioli before indulging in these bite-size poppers.  They're mouthfuls of savory, salty, and spicy bliss.  And what's even better is that you put effort into these one-bite wonders, and you know... it always tastes better if you've had a hand in the work.

After devouring half a dozen little fists of cloud-like wontons, I dug my chopsticks into the mound of hot and sour cold noodles (冰鎮酸辣麵).  The noodles were topped off with Chinese celery, chili and chili oil, green onions, sesame, and bean sprouts... a combination of of ingredients that provided notes of sour tang and chilled bursts of crunchy refreshment.  The celery, sesame, and sprouts opened the way to cooling off during the hot and humid Taipei summer afternoon.



A bowl of noodles usually sustains my hunger, but after discovering the refreshing delight from the Chinese celery and bean sprouts, I perused the menu for another vegetable dish.  Typical Szechwan vegetable dishes include dry fried green beans (乾煸四季豆) and fish fragrant garlic eggplant (魚香茄子), but somehow I landed on a tofu dish that contained more seafood than it did veggies.  The treasure chest of seafood (海至尊) came in a shallow dish filled to the brim with kryptonite green peas, cubes of diced sea cucumber, shrimp, clams, squid, and smoked ham submerged in a sauce made from salted egg yolk.

This was the most disturbing looking dish of the meal.  Perhaps the house specialty appetizer, bean sprouts wrapped in tofu skin (芝麻豆皮捲豆芽), was a better choice just based simply on appearance.  But this pool of sulfuric tofu was actually pretty tasty.  Each item of seafood was diced to the size of the tofu, which meant every bite had equal parts of tender tofu and springy seafood.  The salted egg yolk gave the dish a hearty and homemade taste while binding the plethora of ingredients together.  It looked ugly, but it tasted pretty damned good.  Hey, we aren't supposed to judge a book by its cover anyway, right?

One tofu dish led to another tofu dish... except the next tofu dish was a dessert, and it came compliments of the restaurant.  Almond tofu (杏仁豆腐) is typically a simple, homestyle dessert, but I understand why it's offered after a spicy meal.  The soft jello (it's not really tofu) has an almond fragrance with a sweet taste that soothes the tongue better than any other spice retardant... better than iced water or cold milk.  With or without spicy food, the springy, jiggly tofu in disguise was a great way to end any meal. 

Chili House has become a regular stop for me whenever I get a chance to visit Taipei.  Hopefully, everyone finds their own favorite spicy, Szechwan stop.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Chili House Restaurant (四川吳抄手)

台北市 大安區/ Taipei City, Da An District

忠孝東路 4段 250之3號 / Zhongxiao East Road, Section 4, No. 250-3

How I get there:

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

exit no. 4; walk east on Zhongxiao East Road

make a right on Lane 248 (248 巷); restaurant is on the left

ML - 20110915

Post 62: Taipei - We Love Beef Noodle Soup / 我們愛牛肉麵 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

Okay, tell me.  Who doesn't love beef noodle soup?

Taiwanese and non-Taiwanese, locals and tourists, whoever has discovered this savory soup noodle has fallen in love with it.  It doesn't matter if other cultures have variations of this dish (think Vietnamese pho); even they have the occasional craving for soupy noodles swimming in beef juice.  Even our friend Diana, whose eating habits borderline vegetarianism, will have beef noodle soup.  Meat on the side, please. 

There are thousands of beef noodle soup restaurants in Taiwan, many of which claim to have made the champion of all beef noodle soups.  It's no wonder that many of these shops are concentrated around Yong Kang Street (永康街), a main tourist area in Taipei with hundreds of visitors from Japan and Hong Kong, many of whom come specifically to visit world-famous Din Tai Fung dumpling house... and to get a taste of Taiwan's beefy national dish.

So Yong Kang St. is where Diana and I took Rina, our special guest from Seoul, who indeed fell in love with beef noodle soup (and gua bao, among other Taiwanese specialties).  We sat down at Lao Zhang Beef Noodle Shop (老張牛肉麵), the 2006 champion of the annual Taipei beef noodle soup competition.  Lao Zhang (also known as Old Chang's) specializes in Szechwan flavors, which means they use plenty of chili pepper, garlic, and Szechwan peppercorn, a spice that effectively tingles your throat with a numbing spiciness.

While Rina slurped up the soy and tomato infused soup and while Diana enjoyed her meatless version (think clam chowder without the clams), I took delight in Old Chang's cucumber and green bean appetizers, both of which are peppered with red chili.  But what I really enjoyed from Old Chang's was the famous spicy steamed pig intestine (粉蒸肥腸).  Yup, you heard me... pig intestine.

The spicy steamed pig's intestine is a fen zheng (粉蒸) dish, which roughly translates to a dish that is powder steamed.  The powder it refers to is a type of rice powder, a sort of rice or grain that resembles couscous.  The grains of rice look like they have been broken in half by a crushing, grounding, or pounding process.  Added to the the rice powder are usually spices such as star anise, five spice powder, pepper, and sometimes cumin or cinnamon.  Wash the imagery of intestine coils out of your brain, and fill them with thoughts of tofu skin with sticky rice covered in garlic, chili, pepper, star anise, and the ever fragrant Szechwan peppercorn.  You will think it's amazing-delicious. 

Even Rina, who may have been slightly averse to internal organs prior to tasting this dish, tried it... and liked it.  When I showed oolong-milktea pictures from my trip, he made some hunger-induced oooh and ahhh noises.  What he ooohed and ahhed over was the version of the fen zheng dish made with pork spare ribs (粉蒸排骨)... equally as delicious as the intestines and perhaps just a tad less gut-wrenching.  Oh, and did I mention that there's a layer of soft and fluffy sweet potato at the bottom of the bamboo steamer soaking up all the spicy flavors and fatty oils that have dripped from down from the pork? Oooh, hell yeah.

But back to beef noodle soup.  Before I could even finish the bamboo steamer of pork, Rina and Diana had already demolished their bowls of noodles.  Tender beef? Gone.  Chewy noodles? Gone.  Spicy soup? All gone.  Although the fen zheng pig intestines were good, it was clear that the star of the show was still the beef noodle soup.

If you can stomach it, I'd suggest heading to Taoyuan Street (桃園街) to try another famous beef noodle soup institution (one of oolong-milktea's favorites).  There are tons of beef noodle stores, stalls, and restaurants in Taipei... including one owned by a Persian man married to a Taiwanese lady.  You're sure to find one that you love.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Lao Zhang Beef Noodle Shop (老張牛肉麵)

台北市 大安區 / Taipei City, Da An District

愛國東路 105號 / Ai Guo East Road, No. 105

麗水街口 / Intersection of Li Shiu Street

ML - 20110911