Mission Chinese NYC, welcome to the neighborhood.

On a recent slushy mess of an evening, Stefano and I braved the snow to travel a few miserable bone-soaking blocks to the NY outpost of Danny Bowien's budding San Francisco based empire, Mission Chinese Food. We were rewarded for our bravery (some may call it gluttony) by a small miracle, we were seated immediately. Mission Chinese doesn't take reservations, although you can e-mail on the day you will be dining and they may put aside a table for you. For the unprepared, be ready to wait an hour or more. This isn't the end of the world since there is free beer on tap, and the staff is genuinely friendly. We shook ourselves off in the vestibule that doubles as a take-out counter, shot a beer, and settled into our seats for what was to be a memorable meal.


Danny Bowien, the chef and founder of Mission Chinese food, deserves to be lauded for many reasons. First and foremost, the food is truly excellent here. He has a steady hand in the kitchen, and almost universally, everything I have tasted here is lip-smackingly good. I first tasted his food in his original pop-up kitchen in San Francisco's Mission district last year. It was an eye-opening and delicious evening. When I ate at the NYC restaurant on Orchard Street last week, the meal was the equal of the first.


With the onslaught of so many truly horrible Asian fusion restaurants popping up all over the country in the last decade, it's nice to see someone approach fusion in a thoughtful and inventive manner. Not every dish here is fusion, but the ones that are succeed in a remarkable way. Brisket with Chinese broccoli in smoked oyster sauce? Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Kung Pao Pastrami? Sign me up! Even though we didn't order either of these entrees, the adventurous couple next to us had, and were more than happy to share a little bit of these dynamite dishes . We of course reciprocated. It's all part of the fun at Mission Chinese.


To kick things off, we ordered  the lamb with cumin which arrived crispy on the outside and tender, fatty, and juicy on the inside. It was served "Fajita style" with thick meaty clumps resting on a bed of onion-dominated sauteed vegetables. As we lustily dug into those crusty slabs of lamb I though to myself, this could turn a vegan.

Lamb with Cumin (stolen pic from another blog)

Other dishes, such as "Thrice cooked bacon" sauteed with rice cakes were also stellar. The bacon here has a true depth of flavor that penetrates the palate in waves. The thin slices of rice cake that accompany the bacon soak up a lot of the bacon's flavor, and so do the dried chili and scallions that share the plate. These normally bland tasting rice noodles struck a perfect counterpoint to a bacon and together they make a devilishly flavorful dish.

Thrice cooked bacon (thanks google images!)

We also tried the chicken wings. They were fried and arrived perched atop a carpet of chiles. The wings, remarkably grease-free, were also slathered with a type of powdery coating  reminiscent of five spice, They have almost an addictive flavor. I was literally licking my lips when I ate them. Literally...licking...my lips. And this is where Danny Bowien exceeds. Every dish we tried here was bursting with flavor, to the point that there was an element of guilt involved- can this much flavor be healthy? Do I deserve this? This begs comparison to another chef known for highly seasoned dishes and "flavor profiles' (whatever that means), Bobby Flay. Based on all the buzz Danny Bowien has been receiving, Danny Bowien's  star is every bit as ascendent as Bobby Flay's, and burning brighter in my book.

Wings at Mission Chinese- another pic I ripped off

A few other things are different about this restaurant. Both in SF and NY I had extremely delightful and chummy service, to the point that I wanted to join our waiter for a drink after dinner the other night. And it wasn't just our waiter, everyone we came into contact with their was extremely nice to us. It just seems like the people that work at Mission Chinese are happy to be there. This can really only mean one thing- great management. From the free tap beer on tap one is offered while waiting for the table to the 75 cents from every entree that is donated to charity, you can feel good about spending your money at Mission Chinese. The bottom line here isn't the almighty dollar, its Gross National Happiness.

And you won't spend a lot here either. The dishes are essentially half-priced. This restaurant  could easily charge much, much, more for what it is serving. At Mission Chinese, they are opening up a caliber of dining experience, based on the quality and ingenuity of the cooking, that would ordinarily be out of range for many people. Lucky for us they aren't charging more, and lucky for me they are only two blocks away from my apartment. Did I mention they deliver? Welcome to the neighborhood Mission Chinese, we are going to become very good friends.

Dinner at Samurai Mama...better than it sounds.

I have to admit I was reticent when I was asked to meet for dinner by my hurricane-Sandy-displaced friends near their temporary home on Williamsburg's Grand Street. "Samurai Mama" I thought? That name may work well in certain culturally challenged third tier cities, Cleveland perhaps? Columbus, Ohio? One of those localities where all the Japanese restaurants are actually run by Chinese immigrants and no-one can tell the difference? I was reminded of a time years ago when I was walking down Bedford street with my Japanese friend Yuki and we came across a Sushi restaurant called "Wasabi". She could barely contain her disdain at the stupidity of the name. In Japan she said,  they would never give a restaurant such a silly name. I suppose the American equivalent would be to name a hamburger restaurant "Catsup". So what is in a name? If the proprietors of a restaurant can't even christen their establishment with a decent name, will this extend to their taste in menu fare, decor, and flavor? I was about to find out...

Samurai Mama specializes in Udon noodles. The entire extent of my experience with Udon has been at sushi restaurants, where large bowls of noodle soups are proffered, along with a few token teriyaki dishes,  as an alternative for people less enamored with raw fish. Essentially, I thought, these are noodles for the sushi-challenged. Udon noodles are thick and long white noodles that are made from wheat that look like the ubiquitous Pho noodles, only they are about 50 times thicker. A single strand a noodle can fill your mouth completely. I usually prefer a thinner, more delicate noodle. For instance, when I make spaghetti at home, I almost always choose cappelini. But maybe it's just me. I'm sure there are legions of thick noodle lovers out there- I'm just not one of them.

Udon with Shrimp Tempura in low light

The restaurant is dominated by a long sharing table with cozy nook-like booths to either side. Eugene, Nathalie, and our friend Stefano who was visiting from Paris were lucky enough to score one of these low-lit booths which made for an intimate setting, especially after a large bottle of a mellow Saki was delivered. We started off with a few appetizers which were both inventive and tasty.

Pork Gyoza with "pickles"

Tuna with Guacamole roll

Assorted Tempura

The pork Gyoza, served on a sizzling hot frying pan, were delicious. The chef had evidently flipped the dumplings upside down before serving, so that a delicious pan-shaped crust that had formed in the frying could be broken up and eaten like peanut brittle with the dumplings. The pungent pickles that were served alongside them struck the appropriate note of tartness and we gobbled them down with enthusiasm in just a few minutes.

I suggest you try the tempura here. We ordered the seasonal special, with mushrooms, butternut squash, and a mix of zucchini and other fall vegetables, and it was fabulous. The sushi was noteworthy too. Our order of tuna with guacamole was extremely good, the tuna was fresh and clean and the salty, creamy, guacamole was more than just an interesting novelty. I would expect to see this dish popping up on more menus, it is the logical evolution of the tuna avocado roll. They also server a thicker version of soy sauce with wasabi already incorporated in,  which was appreciated, all the better to quickly deposit the tasty morsels in our eager mouths. They also make a fried chicken appetizer with garlic which looked very appetizing. If I had a little more ambition I would have added it to our order.

We loved the appetizers, but for me the Udon was just..... OK. The noodles were chewy and toothesome, but much like Udon I've tasted in other restaurants that don't actually specialize in them. Ditto the light soy broth that was served with mine. I have tasted those flavors before and I found them pleasant enough but wholly unremarkable. Nathalie and I ordered the shrimp tempura version of the Udon soup, which is quite nice when the shrimp are served crispy and hot. Unfortunately ours had been submersed in the soup, turning the crusty tempura batter into a soggy mess that made clumps in our soup, which is too bad, since the shrimp were very good and large enough to meet your daily protein requirements. Eugene and Stefano ordered the pork version, which I thought had a much tastier and darker broth that blended better with the noodles and is squarely on my radar for the next visit. They were out of a curry version, which could also be interesting to sample on a future outing. Since it was a cold night we all opted for the hot versions of the soup, cold options are available too, usually served with a warm dipping sauce.

Eugene and Nathalie in the spotlight.

Il maestro Stefano and me.

I really enjoyed our meal at Samurai Mamma, much as I hate to say the name. All of the appetizers were excellent, and I feel that with a more judicious choice, the soup can be too. I'm sure I'll be back, and maybe with a little patience I can start to appreciate the merits of the Udon noodle. I guess I'll just have to practice.

BEP- not just a cheesy rap band anymore.

Ian, Trevor, and I recently met up with Nina and Allison over at Bep, a Vietnamese pop-up restaurant in Williamsburg. Bep is a restaurant within a restaurant that serves dinner Monday through Friday (lunch too, but only on Mondays). The rest of the week this location is given over to the original tenant, Simple cafe, whose sign hangs above the door. The restaurant is run by a truly lovely couple, An and Janis, who I have known socially a few years now. This was my second visit to BEP though Ian comes quite often.

Chicken wings aren't usually something I associate with Vietnamese food but if you find yourself at Bep, you'll want to make sure you order some of these. In fact, you may want to order MANY of these. The wings here are fried and come six to an order. They are lightly glazed with a sweet, tangy sauce and sprinkled with scallions, and as succulent as you could ever wish a wing to be. The preparation is similar in style to the Korean style fried chicken wings being dished up at Bonchon, Kyochon, and others, only in my view the wings at Bep are juicier.  If not for the presence of ladies at the table, I may very well have gnawed on the bones.

oh so tasty chicken wings

Nina and Allison enjoy some wings

Team Pho

We also ordered some Cha Gio, or fried spring rolls, and a salad of mango and cabbage we found on special that evening. The spring rolls were good but the salad was outstanding. It was a sweet and crispy Vietnamese version of a refreshing summer slaw. The presentation with a large fried cracker that could be used to scoop up the salad was nice as well. Scooping salad is fun!

mango and cabbage salad

Spring is here.

Since life isn't really worth living without Pho, all of us decided to order it for dinner, and Pho is one of the truly great thing about Bep. They aren't serving up the industrialized version of broth that you find in the Pho factories of Manhattan, where hundreds of bowls are doled out daily and they never skimp on MSG.

This is dinner Pho.

Bep doesn't have a chaotic lunchtime scene that necessitates the application of assembly line techniques in the kitchen, or even worse, the watering down of the soup. At Bep, the flavor of the broth is intense but not overpowering. The spices have had time to get to know one another, to mingle for a while until they melt into a complex bouquet. It's a Pho that didn't have to grow up too fast. The noodles and the meat are on point too, and unlike most other Pho restaurants, you can add real chili peppers instead of Jalapenos. Heat misers be warned: a couple of morsels of chili should do, unless you like a good schvitz.

Pho makes me happy.

Real chilis

And we're off

Good to the last....

Drop

We love BEP and you should too. The next time you're in Williamsburg and "need" some Asian food, do yourself a favor and avoid the handful of throwaway Thai restaurants that infest Bedford Avenue. Instead head straight over to BEP... you can thank me later.

San Francisco's Pho 2000 is Phantastic!

San Francisco is a great eating town. Arguably the local food movement started next door in Berkeley at Alice Water's Chez Panisse, and whether it's coffee, bread, or a bowl of Pho, San Franciscans really seem to care about what they put in their bodies. I've been coming to SF since the late 90's, when many of my friends followed the money trail  to SF and I was working for a Silicon Valley tech company that regularly sent me out West. The years have crept by and my friends have slowly trickled and sometimes sheepishly crept back to NY or other corners of the world. Sadly some, like my good friend Ari, are no longer with us. Still, he and others are alive in my many beautiful memories of those heady days before the Dot.Com bubble burst.  They are wistful mementos of a younger version of myself that are sweet but also fill me with a sense of longing for my lost youth. The days are creeping by and I grow long in the tooth... but thankfully San Francisco's  toothsome noodles are here to cheer me up.

Little Saigon is located in the Tenderloin District which, like most of San Francisco, is teeming with homeless people. The dispossessed seem to be a constant presence here, rivaled only by Calcotta, at least in my imagination since I've never been. The whole of San Francisco seems slightly run down, porn palaces and massage parlors abound, while neighborhood bars with seventies era signage occupy prime corners that NY has long ago ceded to banks and other yawn-inducing businesses. Essentially San Francisco is city with an edge. While New York's long established claim to all things avant-garde has steadily eroded under the irrepressible strain of gentrification, San Francisco has retained it's essential character, which is something to love and admire. Enter Pho 2000.

There are so many Vietnamese restaurants to choose from on a two block radius of Little Saigon where my hotel was located on Larkin and Eddy Street, but Pho was calling to me strongly, and ignoring my inner Pho voice can bring great peril. Pho 2000 at 637 Larkin seemed a likely enough spot- I mean, they have Pho in their name. This wasn't the  first time I'd visited a Pho 2000, there is one in Ho Chi Minh city I have visited (just OK) and there are others in LA and of course, Dorchester, MA. I'm sure they are unaffiliated. Why do they like this name? I can only assume these restaurants have all been around since before the year 2000 and hoped to snag by-passers with their futuristic noodle offerings. Are they living in the past?

One word of advice, don't go for the ambiance- unless you enjoy needlessly bright fluorescent lighting and elevator quality Chinese music thrumming in the background. I don't go to noodle places for the ambiance though, I go for the food, and I was very pleasantly surprised at Pho 2000. I started my meal with an order of "Imperial Rolls", usually called spring rolls (Cha Gio) in the East. They actually might have been the best Cha Gio I have ever had. They were thin skinned with such a beautiful crunch and a soft, savory center. The presentation was beautiful and even the fish sauce was of a higher quality than I'm used to-- all for $5.95. Apologies again for the poor picture quality--- it's the camera phone effect.

Imperial Rolls- so tasty!

As is my wont and custom I ordered the extra large bowl of Pho Thai with raw beef that cooks in the broth (6.95- add .75 to go large) and what came out could have filled a troff. They pack some serious volume into their bowls, and despite my best efforts, I was unable to finish it although I reveled in the Pholebensraum. I say I made my best effort because the Pho was actually incredible. The broth was fragrant and packed with homey flavor. It was beefy and spicy and yet it had all the undertones of exotic spices and star anise one could hope for, and there was just so much of it! The beef was delicious and did not arrive overcooked in the piping hot broth. Dipped in a mixture of chili and hoisin sauce it was nearly a meal unto itself. The noodles were a perfect al dente and just as voluminous as the broth. If I were less of a glutton, I would counsel people to skip the imperial rolls and just concentrate on the Pho, but they were so good I cannot in good conscience do so. Order them both and rejoice, but bring a doggy bag, or make sure there is a decent vomitorium in the neighborhood.

Delicious Pho at Pho 2000

Nice and thin al dente  Ban Pho noodles

This was really a great meal and the best Pho I've had in many a moon. One thing I noticed is that the Vietnamese restaurants in Little Saigon  actually seem to be run by Vietnamese people. In NY, quite often the Vietnamese restaurants are run by Chinese people. They may be Chinese people that came from Vietnam originally, but ethnically they are Chinese. I'm not trying to start any controversy here, but I wonder if that factors into the Pho equation at all. It's very hard to get a bowl of Pho this good in NY. Actually, it's difficult to get a decent bowl of Pho at all in NY. This was a fantastic meal and a great value. Two normal people could have feasted on this $15 meal, and they would have both left happy. I wish I had some more time to explore Little Saigon, but with a hectic work schedule it's tough to slip away and try some of the more unique dishes available, including a fascinating 7 course beef tasting at Pagolac (Vegetarians take note to avoid). I've only scratched the surface, but from what I've seen at Pho 2000, the future is bright. Or is it the past?

Pho Extravaganza in Brooklyn- we make PHO!

Last Sunday my friends and I converged on the South Williamsburg loft of my good friends Michala and Rasmus for a momentous and historically significant occasion. One may compare the importance of our little get-together to the Yalta conference held at the twilight of WWII, attended by Churchill, Stalin, and Roosevelt, where they carved up Europe into fiefdoms and set the stage for the cold war. Or one may not... only the test of time will tell!

Michala did most of the recipe research and we wound up using a melange of four different recipes with an emphasis on this preparation we found online at Epicurious.com.


BROTH

• 5 pounds beef marrow or knuckle bones
• 2 pounds beef chuck, cut into 2 pieces
• 2 (3-inch) pieces ginger, cut in half lengthwise and lightly bruised with the flat side of a knife, lightly charred
• 2 yellow onions, peeled and charred
• 1/4 cup fish sauce
• 3 ounces rock sugar, or 3 tablespoons sugar
• 6 whole star anise, lightly toasted in a dry pan
• 6 whole cloves, lightly toasted in a dry pan
• 1 tablespoon sea salt
• 1 cinnamon stick

NOODLE ASSEMBLY

• 1 pound dried 1/16-inch-wide rice sticks, soaked, cooked and drained
• 1/3 pound beef sirloin, slightly frozen, then sliced paper-thin across the grain

GARNISHES

• 1/2 yellow onion, sliced paper-thin
• 3 scallions, cut into thin rings
• 1/3 cup chopped cilantro
• 1 pound bean sprouts
• 10 sprigs Asian basil
• 1 dozen saw-leaf herb leaves (optional)
• 6 Thai bird chilies or 1 serrano chili, cut into thin rings
• 1 lime, cut into 6 thin wedges
• Freshly ground black pepper

We planned our Pho making party as an all day event, but our broth really only had a good six hours or so to simmer. A great deal of preparation went into the event, Michala picked up 7 pounds of beef knuckle on special order at Brooklyn's famous Marlowe and Daughters. I bought a new and massive cooking pot on the Bowery and watched a butcher trim off fat as if it were butter on our "eye of round", or roast beef, at a Halal butcher in Paterson, NJ. If you've never been to Paterson for Middle Eastern food drop me a line- it's really worth a trip.

Three serious cooks in the kitchen- The Album.

Since we needed to start cooking around one in the afternoon, I also brought over some Chinese Char Su pork, egg noodles, and Choy Sum or Chinese broccoli for our lunch.

A little of this

A pinch of that

A dash of this

And you get this!

Lunch was delicious and quick to prepare. I added a little sweet Chinese sausage to my bowl and ladled on some oyster sauce to keep it real. Am I the only one that doesn't care for oysters but really appreciates oyster sauce on my noodles?

The noodle lunch was really just a warm up for the main course. We started the stock the moment we walked in the door.Pho broth needs to simmer a long time and it was clear time would be our enemy in this endeavor. First we had to bring the knuckles to a furious boil to bring out the impurities. All the liquid from the initial boil is discarded and the freshly boiled bones are added to a fresh pot of simmering water to make the beef base.

7 pounds of beef knuckle

Boiling out the impurities

Our Pho base with "purified" bones

Michala chars an onion directly on the stovetop

Once the broth was set to simmer Michala charred two onions on the stove, peeled off the crusty layer, and added them to the pot.

Anna, our star chef visiting from Denmark, added the mixture of spices like slightly seared cinnamon stick and star anise to a tea bag to marinate in the broth.

Anna admiring her handiwork

Cinnamon and star anise are seared to bring out the flavor

Since Anna was minding the soup Michala and I decided to kick back

I know it looks pretty easy in the pictures, but making Pho is labor intensive and actually required quite a bit of preparation. It took us about three hours to get to the point when we added the star anise and cinnamon, which were left to infuse in the broth and removed after thirty minutes. Meanwhile, we had frozen our eye of round so that it could be cut into slices thin enough to cook quickly in the soup. A deli slicer would have been a nice addition here, but Anna and Michala did an admirable job sawing through the frozen beef.

Slicing the frozen beef

Eye of round slice razor thin

Jalapenos in action

Ban Pho noodles left to soak- they cook in the boiling broth

The table is laid- saw tooth herb, limes, bean sprouts, and brisket to add to the PHO

After our long day in the kitchen, the guests began to trickle in and we were ready to sample the goods.

The Pho is assembled

Rasmus observes the chef

Graham, Nina, and Annamette and Anna patiently wait

and wait....

Charice enjoying a glass of Soju

Annemette finds a perch

Anna makes Eugene cry

                                                And finally we dig in!

David assumes attack formation

This is the best way to digest Pho

So, what were the results of the momentous Pho-extravaganza? We has a lot of fun, and we enjoyed learning about the work that goes into preparing our favorite soup. Did we achieve that elusive and delicious homey flavor one finds in an authentic Pho? We may have, but we would have needed to let our broth simmer and concentrate for many more hours than we had. We had a very good time, albeit labor intensive for some of us. But now we understand and can appreciate what really goes into that $5 bowl of Pho, served simmering and fragrant moments after you order it. For a minimum of effort and the least expenditure, one can have a far superior bowl of Pho. It's nice to have a party, but I'm afraid next time we'll be ordering in.