Loquat ≠ Kumquat

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Let’s clarify something at the outset: a kumquat is a citrus fruit that looks like a miniature oblate orange. These, however, are loquats. No relation.


Approximately two inches long and light orange inside and out, each sweet loquat contains about three seeds. Its flavor depends on the specific cultivar, but the ones we get around here are distinctive and fairly consistent.


You can certainly consume the skin but it doesn’t have much flavor and the texture is nothing special, so since it’s easy to peel (no special equipment necessary) I tend to discard it.

Many years ago, I created a 33-slide PowerPoint presentation called the Chinatown Fruit Report. Someday I’ll convert it to a format compatible with my website but in the meantime, I still present some of its information when I lead guests along my newly revamped ethnojunket, “Not Your Ordinary Chinatown Tour.”

Want to know why it’s called that? Check it out here and sign up to experience it for yourself! And if you act soon, we can taste some fresh summertime Asian fruits at their peak of ripeness together!
 
 

Longin’ for Longan

(Okay, that was a gimme.)

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Longans are similar to lychees but a little less juicy and a little less florally-sweet but no less delicious; they’re both members of the soapberry family (along with rambutans) and both very much in season currently. (Nope, no currant puns; one per post is my limit.)

Its name comes from the Chinese 龍眼 (lóng yăn), literally “dragon eye”: if you hold a peeled longan up to the light, you can see the dark seed through its translucent flesh, hence the name. Here’s looking at you, kid. 😉

Since it’s the height of Asian fruit season in Chinatown, I’ll publish one more chapter here in my Chinatown fruit report but I urge you to head out and support your local Chinatown for a first-hand experience.

Of course, if you’d prefer a guided tour (ahem!), please check out my Not Your Ordinary Chinatown Tour. Hope to see you soon!
 
 

Durian Pizza: It’s Ba-aack!!

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A few years ago, I wrote an article for Edible Queens Magazine about durian pizza at Flushing’s C Fruit Life on Roosevelt Ave; you can read it here.

Sadly, like all good things, it came to an end, leaving us fusion-dessert aficionados out in the cold with only Chinese-American durian ice cream to assuage our dispirited souls.

Happily, on a recent exploration of some new stalls in Flushing’s New York Food Court, I rediscovered durian pizza at D.T Restaurant.

Durian’s flavor is complex and delicious, not overly sweet, but definitely tropical, the texture so rich and creamy that I call durian the fruit that makes its own custard. Pizza in its many guises is a crossover phenomenon itself – neither entirely Italian nor American – so introducing a Southeast Asian element is fair play. If one can top pizza with pineapple, why not durian?

Do durian and pizza play well with each other? Most assuredly. I detected no daunting smell – as a matter of fact, the aroma is rather appealing – I experience only the inimitable ambrosial flavor. After all, it’s warm bread, delectable fruit and beautifully blistered melted cheese. What’s not to like?

Now, I understand that you might be hesitant about buying a whole one just so you can try a slice. No worries. I have a solution for you. Simply join me on my “Snacking in Flushing – The Best of the Best” ethnojunket and you can have as much or as little as you’d like along with a host of other delectable tasty treats.

Hope to see you soon!
 
 

Don’t Know Jack About This Fruit?

Then allow me to introduce you to jackfruit!

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Possibly my favorite fruit, it’s quite easy to find fresh this time of year. Jackfruit is the largest tree fruit and can be roughly two feel long or more; it sports a greenish brown bumpy shell, a white core, and contains dozens of fragrant, yellow pods. Each pod encases a single large seed and even the seeds can be consumed boiled, baked or roasted; their taste is not unlike chestnuts – in fact, I’ve developed a few recipes for them.

You’ll see this tropical fruit at sidewalk stands and markets, whole, halved, or quartered; you’ll also find the sweet pods picked out and packed into plastic containers for munching convenience as you wander the streets of Chinatown.

I’ve been known to buy a half or a quarter and break it down myself, but the procedure involves removing the pods leaving behind a white latex-like substance – and trust me, it’s a tacky mess. If you insist on going DIY, wear plastic gloves because no amount of soap and water or alcohol will rid the sticky stuff from your hands easily. (Those in the know oil their hands first which seems even messier but less gooey.) Personally, I think it’s worth the trouble because the price per pod plummets and I have plenty of time on my hands. (Although maybe that’s the gummy stuff and not time.)

Green unripe jackfruit can be found canned in Asian markets; it’s used for its meaty texture in numerous dishes like Indonesian rendang and other vegetarian specialties.

The fresh pods range in hue from pale canary yellow to bright Crayola yellow-orange; the deeper the color, the sweeter and riper the fruit. The first photo shows the ideal shade of gold (the last chance moment before they become overripe), but even a lighter version will be rewarding.

Jackfruit is at peak ripeness now, so please go out and support your local Chinatown – and reward yourself with a delicious treat in the process!
 
 

Stalking the Wild Lychee

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About two weeks ago, I was discussing the ins and outs of selecting fresh lychees with one of my delightful ethnojunket guests.


We were in a market that had a pile of lychees on display that looked faded, for lack of a better word, and I suggested that, although it’s not foolproof, deep red lychees would probably be a better choice. We weren’t in Chinatown, however, so that was the only offering.


But this time of year in Chinatown, every street vendor will present multiple options and it’s a safe bet that at any given stand, price will be an indicator of quality. Pallid, less expensive lychees just can’t compete against those selling at three pounds for $10 (or $4/lb) – and that’s certainly a reasonable price for a sack of summertime sweetness.


Now let’s dig a little deeper: lychees that are still clinging to their stem will be fresher and juicier than loosies that have gone rogue.


And then you might spot some bright red beauties for $10/lb and their ostensibly identical bright red neighbors at $20/lb both attached to their stems. The difference, although not always clearly noted on the sign, is the size of the seed – and size matters! Smaller seeds (known as “chicken tongue”) yield more fruit inside the thin, textured shell so what appears to be a steeper price evens out when you take into consideration the amount of actual fruit per lychee – not to mention that this variety excels in sweetness.

My vendor of choice is Muoi Truong who has held court at the southeast corner of Canal and Mulberry for over 25 years (as long as I’ve been going there). Top notch produce at competitive prices – and she never fails to greet me when I arrive!

It’s said that New York City boasts at least nine Chinatowns (and perhaps a few more depending upon your definition of what constitutes a Chinatown) and since most specialty fruits are coming into season, this is the perfect time to visit one of them.

More to come….
 
 

On the Road to Shabaley

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These Tibetan stuffed pastries are called shabaley (you might see sha phaley, shabhalep, or other spellings – sha means meat, phaley means bread) and they’re tastier than you’d imagine from a quick glance at their pedestrian exterior. The pockets are prepared by deep frying, shallow frying, or even steaming like dumplings.


Shapes can be circular or semicircular, and in this case the shape and outer edge crimping identify the filling: chicken, beef, and veggie. Tibetan food generally isn’t spicy, but if you don’t want to walk on the mild side, they arrive accompanied by sepen, a flavorful and fiery hot sauce.

Of course, you don’t have to journey to Tibet to sample these! Simply join me on my Ethnic Eats in Elmhurst ethnojunket. Check it out here and sign up to join in the fun!

(And if any of you get the pun in the title of this post – which has nothing to do with Mandalay – we can be BFFs. 😉)
 
 

All That and a Bag of Krupuk

Back in 2016, I wrote a post dedicated to my interminable quest to discover the ultimate ethnic crunchy snack chip. It featured krupuk (you might see “kerupuk” as they’re called in Indonesia or other spellings since they’re enjoyed throughout Southeast Asia) – amazing crisps that are positively addictive.

In the package, they appear to be hard little chips, but they miraculously puff up almost instantly when subjected to hot oil – actually, they’re almost as much fun to prepare as they are to eat – but you can also find them sold in bags and ready to eat.

My sweet friend from Indonesia, Elika, whom I met at the New York Indonesian Food Bazaar in Elmhurst many years ago, has stayed in touch with me and recently sent me an assortment of authentic kerupuk. Each photo depicts a single variety before frying (bottom of each plate) and after (top) so you can get an idea of the transformation they undergo.

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Kerupuk Gandum. Gandum means wheat, one of a variety of starches from which kerupuk are made.


Emping Belinjo. Belinjo (padi oats) seeds are ground into flour and used to make emping, a type of kerupuk. Padi oats have a slight bitter, but not at all unpleasant, aftertaste. They’re not really “oatey” in the Cheerios sense because they’re another species, but they’re certainly more like oats than corn or wheat since there’s a satisfying nuttiness to them. Elika suggests a sprinkling of salt on these to lessen the bitter taste.


Emping Belinjo Udang. Udang means shrimp. Emping are available in styles such as manis (sweet), pedas (spicy) and madu (honey) and flavors including garlic and shrimp.


Rengginan – sweet rice puffs.


Kerupuk Udang – my absolute favorite of the group!

But you don’t have to take my word for how delicious these are! If you’d like to taste them yourself (and maybe get some to take home) you can find a wide variety of krupuk on three of my ethnojunkets, Ethnic Eats in Elmhurst, Snacking in Flushing, and Manhattan’s Chinatown. Food tour season has begun, and I’d be happy to introduce you to these crispy, crunchy gems.

To learn more about my food tours, please check out my Ethnojunkets page and sign up to join in the fun!
 
 

Yi Mei Bakery

On a recent Ethnic Eats in Elmhurst ethnojunket, I picked up some satisfying snacks at Yi Mei Bakery, 81-26 Broadway.

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A variation on classic char siu bao. There was a subtle sweetness to these Roast Pork Pastries, a perfect combination of thin slices of juicy char siu, flaky dough, and black and white sesame seeds. If you buy one to take home, definitely warm it up for maximum enjoyment.


The Meat Floss Cake was indeed cakey per its name: pillowy soft, savory and salty but also with a slight overtone of sweetness. Each cake was coated with meat floss and comprised two halves married by a thin layer of creamy custard (see last photo).

If you’re unfamiliar with meat floss, meat (pork is common) is cooked in a sweetened, spiced mixture until it’s soft enough to be shredded and fried resulting in a final texture that’s fluffy and looks a bit like wool. It’s remarkably versatile and commonly used as a topping for rice or congee, as an ingredient for filling buns and pastries, or for just plain snackin’. You’ll see it in two similar variations at your local Asian supermarket, pork fu and pork sung, and based on my experience I think the shelf life is practically eternal.

Want to know if these treats will be part of our Elmhurst food tour? Only one way to find out. Check out my Ethnojunkets page and sign up to join in the fun!
 
 

Fried Manti

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Daytime temperatures have been in the 50s and that means Spring is Here!

The hell it is.


But to be fair, we have had a few great days recently that turned out to be perfect for a Little Odessa ethnojunket. We prowled around fledgling markets and bakeries that are just starting out, and the redoubtable Tashkent Market is always coming up with different offerings like this Fried Manti with Beef (consumed on the boardwalk, of course).

There are a lot more novel flavors to experience on my “Exploring Eastern European Food in Little Odessa” ethnojunket including some tasty Turkish treats – more about those later. Check it out here!
 
 

Zheng Jin Ji

Sometimes only an elaborate production with an extensive cast of dishes can appease your appetite – think dim sum. But there’s a lot to be said for a simple dialog on an uncluttered stage as well, if the players are exceptional.

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In the window of Zheng Jin Ji at 4915 8th Ave, Sunset Park, Brooklyn, I spotted a photo starring these two sesame seed studded buns that was sufficiently compelling for me to venture inside. It’s a modest venue where Fuzhou snacks and soups are in the spotlight; I’m guessing they do more take-out business than sit-down.

On the left, a Pickled Pork Sesame Bun with Preserved Vegetables, a Guhuai Sesame Bamboo Shoot Bun on the right. They’re prepared in advance, deep fried to order, and they were an undisputed hit: spot-on seasoning, a study in contrasting textures, and definitely worth more than the price of admission ($5.50 for the pair).

So Bravo to the folks at Zheng Jin Ji for an enlightening performance that day. Take a bao!

(I know. I went a long way for that one.)