Chiu on This

Name that...thing

My note taking system has failed me. How could I forget what this crazy looking thing is called? I believe it's a monkey something - monkey's paw, maybe? It's not from a monkey, though; it's actually a fungus, a totally odd and offputting looking fungus, but very tasty. It appeared in a soup, and the hairy looking parts soaked up the broth like a sponge, and the rest of the fungus was very dense and meaty.

This meal took place in May of this year, when I was in Beijing for work. I managed to wedge in some time after an early work dinner (terrific Szechuan food; I need to look at a map to remember where we went) to see my uncle Kenneth. He and his business partner/girlfriend took me to Heng Shan Hui, a Cantonese restaurant that they go to frequently and that seems to be a hangout for people from Hong Kong and in the film industry.

So, yes, this was my second dinner of the evening. Maybe my overstuffed condition explains why I didn't do a better job with documentation. But this crazy monkey mushroom is certainly hard to forget.

Burger barrage

It's been a while since my last post, so in this installment I'll keep it simple and recap two burger places I've been to earlier this year, both of which I recommend.

First up, Bareburger. In August, I went to the location near NYU as part of a going away party for my former colleague and FOCOT, Professor Mike L. Bareburger's deal is its organic focus and grass-fed meats, but folks who know me know that I don't really care about that stuff. On the other hand, I got excited because I saw elk on the menu. On a recent visit to Seattle, I had hoped to get an elk burger at Uneeda Burger, as it had been favorably reviewed by my college classmate Chris, but I didn't get a chance and was wondering where I'd get my hands on elk back on the east coast. Problem solved.

Elk was the recommended meat (among the other fleshy options: turkey, beef, ostrich, lamb, and bison; veggie options also available) for the Jalapeno Express burger, which I ordered for what sounded like a blast of spiciness: pepperjack, red onion, jalapeno relish, horseradish mayo, and chipotle ketchup. The burger as a whole was very tasty, although the spiciness didn't really materialize. I deeply enjoyed the medium rare elk meat, which was rich, juicy, and tasty without any gaminess. I'm not sure if others would agree, but it tasted somewhat bacony-y, as if someone had ground up and added a couple of strips of bacon into mix. That alone should make you want to get some. I will have to try another elk burger soon, one that's very simple, so that I can get a better fix on the meat's flavor. Oh, the hardships of research.

Cantonese Western food

My colleagues and I were in Hong Kong in early May, attending an international conference on comparative perspectives on criminal justice in China, organized by the Centre for Rights and Justice at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. Our stay in HK was short - just two days and three nights - as this was a pit stop of sorts before our longer trip to Beijing for a number of meetings.

I had done zero research on places to eat in HK, figuring I'd just rely on my colleagues who'd been there before; on recommendations from people at the conference or at the hotel; and on my college friend Alex, who I hadn't seen in roughly 20 years, the last time I'd been in the city. At some point, though, I got a number of recommendations from friends on Facebook, including some from college friend Andy, who'd worked several years in China, and from Thom, an acquaintance from Columbia, who almost daily posts pictures on Facebook of wonderful meals that he's cooked.

Vegetarians, avert your eyes (international edition)

Check out what's in the window of Oink, a small storefront in Edinburgh's Grassmarket.

The place seats about two people at a table in the front and three people at a counter in the back. Sitting at the counter and savoring a hog roast roll, I noticed plenty of passers-by stopping at the window and gawking, some with a look of disgust (vegetarians? carnivores who don't like to see what their food looks like before it gets to their plate?), others with the heavy-lidded eyes of a Homer Simpson thinking, "mmmm...pig...". And mmmmmm, pig, is the right response.

An appetizer

This man knew what he was doing.

More on my meal at Beijing Da Dong Roast Duck, coming soon.

Me at my wurst

Okay, immediate apologies for a crummy title to this post. I will try to avoid further feeble attempts at wordplay when it comes to my Munich dining descriptions...

At right, behold the famous Weißwurst of Bavaria. I hadn't actually planned to order these; quite honestly, the pallid greyish-white sausages, which I'd read up on before my trip, didn't hold much appeal. They looked, well, gross; FOCOT Rich deemed them only okay; and I figured there were plenty of other sausages to try.

Indeed, as I roamed about the wonderful outdoor Viktualienmarkt every day of my stay (except for Sunday, when it's closed), I spotted a number of stands serving all sorts of sausages. I'd snacked on wonderful small grilled sausages, maybe of the Bauerwurst variety - about the width but twice as long as a Vienna sausage (the type you get in a can, that is) - served sandwich style on a crusty roll with spicy mustard. I'd gravitated towards the Currywurst stands, too, but escaped their orbit; however, I couldn't resist long and eventually got some at a stand at the Hauptbahnhof.

After giving into my Currywurst hankering, I felt a bit guilty about not trying - and actually actively avoiding - Weißwurst, considering it is a regional specialty. So one morning as I headed towards Marienplatz and walked through the Viktualienmarkt, I slowed down and stopped at a Weißwurst stand and got a plate.

 I'd read that you eat the sausage without the casing, but didn't recall reading how that operation is actually performed. I arranged the plate to take a photo, then thought a bit, and at that point should have ordered a Weißbier, but I think I was still feeling unused to the idea of drinking a beer before noon. Silly me! I came up with a dim memory that you could slice the sausage lengthwise first and then get rid of the casing, so I gave it a shot, cutting small pieces and then peeling them away from the skin. As I cut, I noticed green flecks in the still unappetizingly colored meat and an odd, spongy consistency that I wouldn't typically associate with a sausage. I was feeling a little apprehensive.

But all that faded away when I took a bite. How can a sausage be both light and flavorful? The wurst had a delicate flavor and more firmness on the tooth than under the knife. The veal, pork, and whatever seasonings go into a Weißwurst didn't taste like anything I'd had before, and after two bites, I felt hooked. The warm, crispy, chewy-but-not-too-dense, salty pretzel provided heft to the meal but I also appreciated its yeasty flavor. And like all good condiments, when paired with the right foods, the sweet mustard gave everything an extra brightness on the palate.

While my liking for Weißwurst will not come close to my intense cravings for Currywurst, I am going to pursue Weißwurst in NYC. Hallo Berlin's got it on their menu, as does Zum Schneider and, hey, lots of other places. I guess I don't have to travel too far to get some, and I will report back on what I find.

Grüß Gott, Munich!

I recently went to Munich to celebrate my 40th birthday in style, that is, mit Bier! It was probably the best idea I've had in years, but I was helped out a lot by some recommendations from FOCOT Rich, who's been to Munich several times.

Rich suggested that I try out Wirsthaus Ayingers am Platzl, where he had "an outstanding combination platter- sausages, pork, and bacon served on top of spätzle with a mushroom sauce. My mouth waters just thinking of it."

My mouth watered at the idea, too, so after doing a 3-hour walking tour of the old city (thanks, Kristin!), I took a wee nap in my lovely hotel room, the better to gather up my remaining energy for feasting. I didn't have to travel far, just out the door and within two minutes I was at Ayingers. On the way there, however, I noticed that I'd already been to two places nearby - the Hofbräuhaus and Augustiner am Platz - during the beer tour I took my first night in Munich but I'll get to that in another post.

The interior of Ayingers was cozy. I got a good look at the menu, as it seemed like forever for someone to take my order - sadly, there was no sign of the combination platter, but that was probably for the best. I sipped on a Kellerbier, which was okay (maybe I wasn't in the mood for a yeasty beer), and nibbled on a bretzel while waiting for my Ofenfrischer Schweinsbraten in Ayinger Dunkelbiersoß' mit Kartoffel- und Semmelknödl und Krautsalat. That is, pork roast in a sauce of Ayinger's dark beer with potato dumplings, dumplings made from rolls (sorry, crap translation), and cabbage salad.

The pork was seriously tasty. After one bite of the roast in its rich sauce, I had to put away the remains of my bretzel. Although tasty, I needed to prioritize the pork. Just enough fat and crispy skin came with the pork to be satisfying but not overwhelming, and the pork itself was tender and juicy. The sauce had just the right consistency and level of spice to be a good team player - not drawing all the attention to itself but not needlessly taking up room. The Kartoffelknödl and I became good friends, but I found the Semmelknödl offputting - too glutinous, with an odd plasticky, fumey flavor. The Krautsalat, a sauerkraut in its infancy, brought a pleasant tang and textural contrast with its crunch.

If I'd taken an "after" photo of my meal, I think you'd see maybe a slight trace of gravy and a big glob of the practically untouched Semmelknödl (I really did try to like it). Stuffed to the gills, I did not even contemplate a second beer or any desserts. Instead, I strolled slowly around downtown, past the Neues Rathaus (Rich took a really cool photo of it) and thru Marienplatz, where the Weihnachtsmarkt stalls were getting set up. Surrounded by hundreds of other people just milling about, I enjoyed a lovely postprandial walk, with no particular place to go, no particular place to be, and no rush to get to either.

Next up: pictures of sausages!

Snow white

Maybe a week before I headed to Berlin, the New York Times ran an overview of places to go to in the city, including Schneeweiß.  I clipped out the article and brought it with me, and persuaded my friend Ramelle to try it out for lunch, even though a friend of hers didn't think it was all that.  We headed there after touring the Stasi prison in Lichtenberg and bypassing our planned visit to the Stasi headquarters, having been  saturated with enough depressing information already.

Anyhow, the restaurant's located in Friedrichshain (Simplonstraße 16), a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in the eastern part of the city.  Click on the photo to enlarge it, b/c the interior of the place is just gorgeous, even if, as Ramelle tells me, the pristine all white decor is distressingly trendy among Berlin restaurants now.  I found the atmosphere calming (we were among the few people there around 2pm), but I can imagine it getting pretty crowded and hectic - particularly in the swank lounge towards the back.

Whoa, I should get back to the food, described as Alpen-Stück (I think that refers to Austrian or southern German cuisine).  We shared two entrees from their daily specials list: a lovely roasted chicken with green beans and rosemary potatoes and interesting-in-a-good-way spinach dumplings that the waitress inaccurately described as gnocchi.  With a soft drink, the whole meal came out to 20 euro, which I thought was very reasonable given the quality of the food, the swank digs, and the unpretentious staff.  Digression: why do Berlin waiters have a reputation of being arrogant and unhelpful?  They all seemed pretty nice to me.  I suppose I've been overexposed to surly and snooty restaurant workers in NYC.  In any case, I wish I had a Schneeweiß-like place in my neighborhood.  Maybe I'd be a little more relaxed.  Right.

The currywurst report

Last month, I had a brief vacation in Berlin. I was last there in 1998 or 1999, and the city was one great big construction zone, turbulent, dynamic, and confusing. My friend Juliane, who grew up in Essen, travelled with me to visit my friend Ramelle, who grew up in Hawaii. I recall at the time seeing the Imbiss stands selling currywurst but was steered away from them. Fast forward ten years: I knew I had to try some currywurst, at the very least to satisfy my curiosity and to add at least one post to my blog.

During my five day stay, I had currywurst three times in three days, and I am not ashamed to say that I would have happily had more. I will also admit that I am desperately craving some now and will need to make a trip to Hallo Berlin pretty soon for a fix. I do not claim to be an expert on this glorious street food, and don't want to get into a fight about its origins, but will share some of my impressions.

First stop, Konnopke's Imbiss at 44 Schönhauser Allee in Prenzlauer Berg under the Eberswalder Straße U-Bahn tracks. Ramelle's husband, Peer, pointed it out to me the first day I arrived, but I didn't get to it until a few days later, just before Ramelle and I went on the "Red Berlin" tour at Pariser Platz. The currywurst was nothing like what I had in NYC - the sliced bratwurst had snap, texture, heft, and flavor; the sauce was ketchup-y but not just warmed-up Heinz, less sweet and a little tangier; and the curry powder was liberally applied and had heat. Mit Brötchen, a small roll, perfect for sopping up the sauce, I paid 2 euro - about $3.50 - quite a deal for a tasty, filling, and, sadly for me, addictive meal.

Chewing on Churrasco

Here's another post from my globe-trotting friend Rob.

On our final day in Sao Paolo, our host took us to Churrascaria Gramado Grill, outside the city near the village of Embu das Artes. On a road chock full of churrascaria, this particular establishment was distinguished by the enormous yerba mate cup on the roof. If you are a gaucho, charcoal-grilled beef and yerba mate are irresistable lures.

Upon being seated, we were greeted by a man hefting an enormous platter of beer bottles and mixed drinks. Like a dessert cart, the drink platter is a menu: you pick your drink from the selection, and a fresh one is brought to your table. An added benefit of the drink platter is that the non-portuguese-speaking diner can easily order a beverage without saying a word. I ordered a passion fruit caipirinha; full of gelatinous passion fruit seeds, this drink resembled a boozy pearl ice tea. Ice-cold beer is also a popular accompaniment, particularly "chope"--the local style of draft pilsener.

Time to visit the salad buffet. It is understood that the salad buffet is merely for visual consumption--the burden of veggies in the tummy hinders the intake of grilled meats. Nevertheless, it was educational to examine what was on the buffet. In addition to leafy salads, there were some interesting items: hard-boiled quail eggs, fried pork rinds, and something involving bacalao (salt cod).

Gramado Grill also offered a separate buffet of traditional Brazilian dishes: a whole roasted piglet (leitao), feijoada, farofa (which reminds me of fried rice), whole fish... I could have lingered much longer over the buffet table, but it was time to head back--the meat was coming!