It’s been a minute. Dim sum from East Harbor Seafood Palace, 714 65th St in Sunset Park, Brooklyn – all equally delicious. Last photo was taken mid-stream, just after as many empty plates had been cleared.
It is said that a picture is worth 1,000 words, so now I don’t have to write (and you don’t have to read) 10,000 words! 😉
(Click on any image to view it in high resolution.)
(Click on any image to view it in high resolution.)
Chinese Egg Custard Tarts (蛋挞, dan tat among other English spellings) are on display in just about every bakery case in NYC Chinatowns and can be spotted riding on dim sum trolleys threading their way through restaurants at lunchtime. They found their way to China and Hong Kong decades ago via English custard tarts and Portuguese pastéis de nata and are available these days in a wide variety of styles: basic (Guangzhou/English-inspired bright yellow surface), brûléed (Macao/Portuguese influence), egg white only, green tea, coconut, even strawberry, almond, papaya…and the list of creative variations goes on. Some time ago, there was a bakery on Mott Street that sold them to the exclusion of any other baked goods and boasted dozens of flavors; alas, they’ve since closed. New Flushing Bakery offers a rotating assortment including Strawberry Milk Custard, Lemon Egg Custard, Mango Egg Custard with tapioca balls, and Purple Potato Custard. Best I can tell, dan tat are a universal favorite.
Recently, my Number One Spy urged me to go to Xin Fa Bakery (aka Lily Bloom) at 5617 8th Ave in Sunset Park to try their signature egg tart. If memory serves, she likened the line that trailed out the door onto the sidewalk to the queue for a cronut at Dominique Ansel Bakery during its heyday, but she’s never wrong so I ventured out to Brooklyn’s Chinatown. (Actually, there are more than one Brooklyn Chinatown, but that’s a story for another day.)
These exceptional pastries are in a league of their own, heavy for their size and completely unlike any I have ever tasted – and judging from the expectant phalanx waiting at the door as well as a legion of stellar online reviews, most folks agree.
Fresh out of the oven and so hot it nearly pizza-burned the roof of my mouth. But it would have been worth every blister: it was fairly bursting with creamy custard, dense, sweet, eggy, and jiggly.
The crust is layered but not crispy; its yielding texture complements the rich custard perfectly.
They offer other baked goods here – the sign for Japanese Castella cake caught my eye – but I was monomaniacal in my mission. No worries – I fully intend to return.
There is a downside though, and it’s not the ultimately manageable line outside. These little gems have ruined me for any other dan tat I might encounter. So if we ever do dim sum together and the dan tat hail from that restaurant’s kitchen, go right ahead and grab them as soon as they hit the table – they’re all yours.
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I made it to the soft opening of Mott Street Eatery 98 Food Court at 98 Mott Street in Manhattan’s Chinatown on November 11; the Grand Opening was on the 12th. Only two of the twelve stalls were set up, Domo Sushi, which featured nigiri, maki and such along with an omakase option, and 89 Eatery, the sprawling anchor, teeming with hungry patrons when I visited.
Between my spookomaki and the kuromame for the nattophobic posts, I’ve been eating a lot of Japanese food lately, so today’s choice would be Chinese without further deliberation.
I’ll cut to the chase: everything I tasted was truly outstanding – and considering I had just enjoyed great dim sum for lunch in Sunset Park less than a week ago (post coming soon), that’s saying a lot.
They offer 35 kinds of dim sum…
…25 varieties of soups and congee with you tiao (Chinese crullers) and additional meats available to accompany them…
…and 16 items in the BBQ section along with mix ‘n’ match selections.
Where to begin? I chose three of my favorites from among the impressive array of dim sum, all of which were remarkable:
Chaozhou Dumplings (aka fun guo), fresh from the steamer, featuring peanuts and bursting with crunchy vegetables. Top notch.
The inner workings.
XO Sauce Pork Rice Roll. This was made as a special order with a wait of just a few minutes, and it was also excellent. I’ve often seen XO sauce touted on a menu but not readily apparent in the dish; in this case there was no question. And as you can see, plenty of pork.
The inner workings.
Bean Curd Sheet with Pork. Definitely a fan.
The inner workings.
Of course, I’ll come back for the congee and BBQ – and for the eleven other stalls as they get going. This is definitely my idea of fun.
Stay tuned for Part Two – lots more to come!
And most important, I’ll say it again: Here is another delicious opportunity for all of us to do the right thing – now, more than ever, please SUPPORT CHINATOWN!
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“Do you eat natto?” asked my friend. She had some extra and generously offered to share with me. I answered in the affirmative and the next time I saw her she handed me a little bag containing black natto from NYrture, a New York based company. (Note: this is not a sponsored post.)
For those of you who are unfamiliar with natto, it’s a traditional Japanese food made from fermented soybeans and eaten for breakfast, a side dish or a snack, often with rice. Aside from its health benefits, its claim to fame (or perhaps infamy) is its potent aroma and flavor along with its notoriously slimy consistency. (Look up “acquired taste” in the encyclopedia and you’ll see a dish of natto.)
From NYrture’s website: “No description of natto would be complete without mentioning its uniquely sticky texture. Neba-neba is a Japanese word to describe the sticky, stringy, wispy film that coats natto beans. In Japan, the more “neba-neba”, the better the natto. In fact, standard practice is to vigorously stir natto before eating to increase neba-neba!”
Indeed. Natto has been known to give okra an inferiority complex.
But the company described this kuromame (black soybean) natto as “gateway natto” and I couldn’t have said it better. For starters, its flavor is significantly milder and slightly beany with, believe it or not, notes of chocolate. And although turbulent natto is soybean’s answer to an Instagram cheese pull, in defiance of “standard practice” I decided to forego whipping it into an unphotogenic web of sticky threads: personally, I don’t find it to be particularly appetizing and if your mission is gateway natto, you want appetizing.
In Japan, it’s served in numerous ways; I decided to go simple and put the artsy effort into the pickled ginger rose.
So I put it to you: Do you eat natto?
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That’s what it read on the back of the package. Horsebean is simply another name for broad beans or fava beans, in this case dried for nibbling purposes. Now, if you decide to go ahead and do some independent research on the Google, be sure you search for the single word “horsebean”, not the phrase “horse bean” lest you tumble down a rabbit hole that, trust me, you truly do not want to explore. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I spotted these in a Chinese market snack aisle, my happy place of late, it would seem. They’re coated with a crunchy shell, at once spicy, salty, and sweet – the triumvirate of addictive noshing. Another caveat: I was surprised to discover a few of these that seemed almost as hard as pebbles, so chomp gingerly.
There was precious little English on the package except for the following on the back:
“Diehua brand strange-taste horsebeans are produced since 1897. The product has a special taste, fragrant and sweet and crisp, numb and sore, salty and fresh, comfortable and tasty and refreshing, it likes mulberry tree’s fruit color and lusterris Moise….”
[Luscious, maybe? They’re certainly not lustrous. Can’t figure out Moise. Starts out okay, kinda falls apart by the end….]
Followed by one final instruction: “Eating Method: eat right after open it.”
Mission accomplished. Yum.
But I need to make it abundantly clear for those of you who don’t know me that I am not mocking the language in the legend. Whoever wrote it has far more English than I will ever have of any Chinese dialect, and as such they also have my respect. I once had a friend who said that if she could be granted any wish, it would be to be able speak every language of the world fluently. I still admire her for that. It’s not about showing off, it’s about openhearted communication. That’s the first step in connecting with anyone.
And when all is said and done, that’s why writers write.
Part of what I’m calling the “Golden Oldies” series: photos I had posted on Instagram in bygone days that surely belong here as well, from restaurants that are still doing business, still relevant, and still worth a trip.
I pulled up this post because a friend mentioned that I had often sung the praises of Yemen Café’s remarkable Lamb Haneeth – so while it’s fresh in my mind, here are a few photos from one of my group visits taken back in May, 2017.
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If you bring a large group to Yemen Café, 176 Atlantic Ave, Brooklyn, and everyone wants to order the delectable slow roasted Lamb Haneeth (and really, that’s the point), you can prevail upon them to bring out an enormous platter of lamb and rice as you see here. Note that every cut is different, but all are unbelievably tender and equally delicious. It’s their most popular dish and once you’ve tasted it, you’ll understand why.
With a single order, you won’t get to choose your cut, but it’s guaranteed to be a treat.
The Kibdah appetizer was excellent as well; sautéed lamb liver with onions and tomatoes served with hot clay-oven bread that, alas, didn’t make it into this picture.
Yemen Café has two locations: 176 Atlantic Ave and 7317 5th Ave, both in Brooklyn.
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Dear Friends,
I can no longer keep this to myself. I am an addict, hooked on mithai. What’s that? You don’t know about mithai? Mithai are Indian sweets and since Diwali, the Hindu Festival of Lights, is upon us, I can think of no better time than now to tell you my tale. So gather round your diyas and check out my post “Indian Sweets 101: Meeting Mithai” right here on ethnojunkie.com!
दिवाली मुबारक
Happy Diwali!
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You’ve heard it before: “Oh, Día de los Muertos is Mexican Halloween, right?”
Wrong. Día de los Muertos is decidedly not Mexican Halloween any more than Chanukah is Jewish Christmas – and if any unenlightened soul tries to tell you that, please disabuse them of that fallacious notion inmediatamente!
The Mexican holiday, Day of the Dead, is celebrated from October 31 through November 2 – and “celebrated” is the proper word: families congregate to memorialize loved ones who have passed away, but it is seen as a time when the departed temporarily revivify and join in the revelry rather than as a sorrowful occasion. Additionally, these days Día de Muertos, as it is also known, serves as a paean to the indigenous people with whom it originated in pre-Hispanic times.
In the year 1 BC (Before Covid), I headed out to Sunset Park, Brooklyn, to get myself into the Día de los Muertos spirit. Sequin-eyed, neon icing-coiffed calaveras (sugar skulls) are relatively easy to find in the neighborhood; this one came from Panadería La Espiga Real, 5717 5th Avenue. Although spirits don’t eat, this one seemed particularly interested in the pan de muerto I picked up at La Flor de Izucar, 4021 5th Avenue.
This bread of the dead is customarily embossed with bone shapes, sometimes crossbones, sometimes in a circle, and other traditional embellishments such as skulls and a single teardrop. It’s a barely sweet, simple bun (like so many Mexican panes dulces), light and airy with a tight crumb, and topped with sesame seeds or sugar (like this one) with hints of cinnamon, anise, and orange flower water.
Above: A view of the inner sanctum.
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Halloween is just around the corner and I wanted to indulge in something that didn’t involve Reese’s Cups, M&M’s, or Kit Kats, so I’ll be goblin’ futomaki that’s decked out in an All Hallows’ Eve costume – I guess that makes it both a trick and a treat. (But, not gonna lie, I’m waiting for the post-holiday sales: just as leftover Thanksgiving dinner tastes better the next day, so does leftover half-price Halloween candy.)
In obeisance to the official black and orange Halloween rubric, the black monstermaki (futomaki means thick or fat roll) is wrapped in nori, its conventional costume, and its orange sidekicks are swathed in soy wrappers that come in five flavors/colors: original soy, sesame, spinach green, turmeric yellow, and paprika orange.
I filled them with kani (krab sticks), avocado, cucumber, strips of sweet kanpyō (dried gourd) and most important, eel because – in keeping with the holiday spirit 👻 – it’s only one letter away from EEK!
And in case you’re wondering – no, I’m not handing out these spookomaki on October 31; the kids are supposed to scare me, not the other way around!
Happy Halloween! 🎃 🍣
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These days, Tiger Sugar and their wildly popular brown sugar boba milk drink along with ancillary products like ice cream pops, milk egg rolls, and even popcorn are a common sight in Chinatowns (and elsewhere!) along with a multitude of wannabe competitors. Two of their more intriguing creations include their innovative take on classic filled rice balls, in this case Black Sugar Salted Egg Custard and Black Sugar Sesame.
Filled rice balls have been around forever, long before there was a Tiger Sugar, and are readily available in the freezer case at Asian markets. Tiger Sugar’s interpretation capitalizes on their signature flavor: since the outer enclosing layer is made from glutinous rice, it’s a little chewy like boba and tastes like their famous drink, but less intense.
There are ten 1¼-inch spheres to a package; all you need to do is boil them for a few minutes (they expand a bit), drain them, and as the instructions direct, “put them into iced fresh milk or sweet soup”. When you see the phrase “fresh milk” in Chinatown, it simply refers to standard whole milk; “sweet soup” comprises any of the many varieties of Cantonese tong sui: sweet, warm dessert soups.
Black Sugar Salted Egg Custard Rice Ball. You might recognize the distinct flavor profile of salted egg yolk from visits to your favorite dim sum parlor or Chinese bakery – so many buns and balls filled with creamy salted egg! Unlike a moon cake, you won’t find a whole egg yolk in there; this filling is made from palm oil, powdered sugar, bean paste, milk powder, egg yolk powder and then, finally, salted egg yolk powder – but it’s rather tasty nonetheless.
Black Sugar Sesame Rice Ball. The filling is sweet and unquestionably black sesame, its texture is a little crunchy and gritty in a good way. Again, most enjoyable.
IMO, they’re both good with a bit of milk poured over, but not tossed into a whole glass of fresh milk. Also IMO, they don’t play well with ice cream – trust me, I tried. But I keep looking for more ideas because I really do like them; I’m convinced there’s an ultimate way to use these in addition to sweet soup. Any thoughts?