Dumpling Galaxy

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Instagram Post 5/9/2019

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While shepherding folks through Flushing’s food courts on a recent ethnojunket, the thought struck me that with so many tempting treats to be had, it makes the job incredibly easy. At the same time, it also makes it incredibly difficult. Take dumplings for example. (Take several, they’re small.) Dozens of purveyors fashion hand-crafted bespoke specialties while displaying ennui-tinged sprezzatura as they vie for our appetites and confound our decisions. What’s a tour guide to do?

Why, sample nearly all of them, of course. (On my own time naturally.) A few standouts emerged, one of which was the venerable Dumpling Galaxy. A far cry from its days in the dingy rabbit warren of Golden Mall, it’s now a proper restaurant touting about 100 varieties just half a mile from this newer outpost at Super HK Food Court, 37-11 Main St, Flushing where there are just enough stellar examples to please everyone.

[1] Shown here are pan fried lamb dumplings with green squash, steamed pork dumplings with dill, and the less commonplace cornmeal dumplings with pork. The filling is what it promises to be; the unusual wrapper is thick, dry, and a little akin to a corn muffin bereft of sugar.

[2] The inside view of that last one.
 
 

Rayhon

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Instagram Post 5/8/2019

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The food of Uzbekistan is relatively easy to track down in Brooklyn; that of Tajikistan, its neighbor to the east, less so. The cuisines are similar, but Tajikistan claims kurutob (you may see qurutob or qurutov) as its own. We enjoyed a vegetarian version of it (also available with meat) at Rayhon, the Tajik-Uzbek restaurant at 1915 Avenue U in Brooklyn’s Homecrest.

[1] Essentially a bread salad (Tajikistan’s answer to Italy’s panzanella, perhaps), kurutob ascends beyond the level of granting second life to shards from a stale loaf in that it features fatir, the delicate, flaky, layered bread that provides the base for the herby (rayhon means basil) salad of tomatoes, cucumbers and red onion. Topping off the qurutob is its essential piquant sauce made from qurut (hence the name), a salty yogurt cheese, that gets soaked up by the fatir.

[2] The yogurty fatir gets its well-deserved moment in the spotlight, downstage.

[3] Crispy chuchvara (Russia’s answer to chuchvara are pelmeni, BTW), fried beef and lamb dumplings with an allium troika: caramelized onions provide sweetness, raw scallions for a little bite, and a few slivers of red onion just because. Not as redundant as you might think. But the dish as a whole was a little monotonous and could have been rescued by a bit of sauce on the side.
 
 

Doña Fela’s Tamales Peruanos

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Instagram Post 5/6/2019

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Oh, the myriad food puns I could do about this marvelous treat – but fear not, I won’t. (Feel free to contribute your best in the comments though, if you’re so inclined.)

These are anticuchos, skewers of tender, grilled marinated beef heart that hail from Peru, typically served with papas a la huancaína, slices of boiled potato slathered with a creamy, spicy, yellow pepper (aji amarillo) sauce, shown here with a spibble of spicy salsa to the right of the luscious meat. The name has its roots in Quechua, the indigenous language of the Peruvian Andes: “anti” refers to the Eastern region of the Andes, “kuchu” means cut.

But the best part is that you don’t have to travel to South America to indulge – simply head for Doña Fela’s Tamales Peruanos cart at Roosevelt Ave and 90th St right on the border of Elmhurst and Jackson Heights, Queens on weekend afternoons. They serve up other authentic Peruvian delicacies and antojitos as well, like picarones (deep fried doughnuts, only better) and more, but I’m not going to provide a long list here because I want you to focus on their mind-blowingly delicious anticuchos – especially if they’re new to you. They’re one of my absolute favorite street foods and if you like grilled meat, even if you’re not a fan of organ meats, these will win you over.

Okay, just one pun since you saw this one coming anyway: I ❤️ Anticuchos!
 
 

Cuccio’s Bakery

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Instagram Post 5/5/2019

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Stumbled upon at Cuccio’s Bakery, 320 Avenue X in Brooklyn’s Gravesend: slices of rainbow cookies wrapped around a dense, fudgy chocolate rum ball.

Ya know ya wanna.
 
 

He Ji Noodle House

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Instagram Post 5/3/2019

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About forever and a half ago, when I was a tyro trying to get a leg up on world food, I asked a Chinese friend what she ate at home with her parents. Expecting to hear about some magnificent culinary concoction that would put the chicken chow mein served up by my local China Inn deservedly to shame, she matter-of-factly replied, “tomatoes and eggs”. My education had begun in earnest and I never looked back. So I always experience a moment of heartwarming nostalgia when I see this combination on a Chinese menu.

Alas, I don’t know where she is now, but I do know where to find this duo in Flushing’s New York Food Court, 133-35 Roosevelt Ave, in the form of Tomato Egg Noodle at He Ji Noodle House, stall 25, purveyors of gratifying Henan food. The addition of hand pulled noodles and some veggies (ask for it dry) makes it special yet it’s still homey and unpretentious.
 
 

Little Pepper Restaurant

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When I write about restaurants on Instagram, they’re usually brief takes accompanied by a photo or two. (You can see my feed right here on ethnojunkie.com by selecting the “Instagram” category from my home page – no signup required.) But because of Instagram’s character count limitations, it’s often necessary to break up a review into several parts. This one originally appeared as five posts from two visits, published on June 21, 2016 and April 29–30 and May 1–2, 2019.

If ever there were a Sichuan standby, it’s Little Pepper Restaurant at 18-24 College Point Boulevard, Queens. Despite its move from Flushing to College Point, the kitchen continues to turn out solid journeyman work that’s difficult to find fault with, delivering exactly what you’d expect and precisely what you traveled there for. In no particular order:

(Click any photo to view in glorious high resolution.)Fresh Cucumber with Mashed Garlic Sauce is an exercise in balance. The dish only seems simple: seeded, smashed Persian cucumbers blanketed with a salty, sweet/sour garlic dressing. Applied with a heavy hand, it would have been suffocating, with a timorous touch, it would have been an afterthought; here, it’s a dexterous thumbs up.

Silken Tofu with Fresh Scallion. Gossamer cubes of cloudlike tofu in a very spicy, somewhat salty sauce dressed with peanuts and fresh scallions. So good.

Sliced Pork Belly with Chili Garlic Sauce from the Appetizer section of the menu. Unquestionably sweet, a little spicy, intensely porky, with a substantial hit of garlic because pork and garlic, right?

Braised Sliced Fish in Spicy Soup Base. Just what it sounds like – melt in your mouth fish in a spicy broth that begs to be poured over rice.


Dan Dan Noodle with Minced Pork – with a nice chew and redolent of málà oil, it’s a classic rendition. Second photo: the obligatory noodle lift.


Griddle Cooked Squid and Shrimp. Griddle cooked (or griddled) is another term for dry-pot cooking; if you’ve enjoyed hot-pot, just eliminate the soupy component and you’ve got dry-pot. (Yes, that’s an oversimplification, but you get the idea.) It’s usually served directly in its cooking vessel.

Smoked Tea Duck Sichuan Style. Does this really need a description? Smoky, crispy, fatty, ducky, infused with star anise and other enhancements, the meat was so tender it practically fell apart. I could have eaten the whole plateful by myself. Next time, I just might.

Tree Mushrooms with Chinese Spices. You might see cloud ear, wood ear fungus, black fungus or a dozen other names, but it will appear as 木耳 (“tree ear”) on the menu. Garlicky, a little vinegary, and spicy from the red peppers, the cilantro was a necessary diversion. Did I mention garlic? Like all of the appetizers we enjoyed that afternoon, this was a bit salty, but in a good way.


Mapo Tofu. Another classic.

Dried Sautéed String Beans. A prime example of wok hei (you might see wok hay, wok chi, or wok qi): “the breath of the wok”; its flavor and aroma are unforgettable – and nearly impossible to achieve in the home kitchen. Attainable by stir frying over incendiary heat, it’s a hallmark of Chinese cuisine; the char you see on the fresh green beans is its badge of honor. Tiny bits of Yibin yacai, the stems of pickled mustard greens, de rigueur in Sichuan cooking, provide contrast and are customary in this dish.


Lamb in Hot & Spicy sauce with Cumin. The magical duo of lamb and cumin. ’Nuff said.

Minced Pork with Clear Noodle. I know this one by its more fanciful moniker, Ants Climbing Up a Tree. It consists of bits of ground pork in a bean paste based sauce poured over “cellophane noodles”, translucent noodles usually made from mung bean starch. The bits of pork (the ants) cling to the noodles (the tree limbs) because of the slightly sticky nature of the sauce, hence the name. Second photo illustrates. At various restaurants where I’ve enjoyed this, the sauce has ranged from almost soupy to rather dry which was the case this time; it was also less sweet, saltier, and spicier than what I’m accustomed to, but highly enjoyable.

I once made this for someone as part of a mini-banquet and she refused to eat it. I assured her that no ants were harmed in the making of this dish. She said she realized that, of course, but the idea of noodles made from cellophane put her off.

You win some, you lose some.

This is Sliced Pork with Wood Ear. You already know about the captivating flavor and aroma of wok hei, “the breath of the wok”, derived from stir frying food over intense heat; the pork in this dish is infused with that magic and at the same time is moist and tender, most likely the result of velveting, a marinating technique used in Chinese cuisine. A great choice.


Scallion Fried Rice. Comfort food.


Sichuan Pickled Cowpea with Minced Pork – if you’re in the mood for something completely different (assuming you’ve never tried it 😉).

Sauteed Snow Pea Leaves, for those at the table who crave their green veggies; these are simply prepared and excellent.
 
 
Revisiting Little Pepper is like getting together with an old friend you haven’t seen for a while; not necessarily any surprises to shout about, just that warm feeling that everything you loved about them in the past is still going strong and had just been waiting for you to reconnect.

Cka Ka Qellu

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When I write about restaurants on Instagram, they’re usually brief takes accompanied by a photo or two. (You can see my feed right here on ethnojunkie.com, updated almost daily, by selecting the “Instagram” category from my home page – no signup required.) But because of Instagram’s character count limitations, it’s often necessary to break up a review into several parts. This one originally appeared as four posts, published on March 14 and 15, and April 13 and 14, 2019.

If you’ve never tried Albanian food, here’s your chance. Tucked away in Belmont’s Little Italy, Çka Ka Qëllu can be found at 2321 Hughes Ave, Bronx and it’s a gem. Veal and creamy yogurt have starring roles in this cuisine and everything we tasted was delicious and in many cases a little surprising. Here are some of the top notch dishes we tried during our three visits.

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Dips from the Appetizers section

Each dip was different in nature and temperature (from top moving clockwise): Tarator, a cold yogurt dip with minced garlic and cucumber; delicious warm Sausage Dip made from Albanian veal sausage; Ajavar (you may have seen ajvar), room temp, a savory roasted red pepper spread.

Samun

Marvelous pillowy bread called Samun (sounds a little like salmon), so fresh and hot out of the oven that we literally couldn’t tear it barehanded. I’m usually unimpressed by bread but this was amazing; it was perfect with the dips.

Fli

A further surprise (because I had no idea what to expect) was this wedge of Fli, savory layered crêpes in the Brumat (Savory Dishes) section of the menu. According to the Albanian dictionary, brumat means dough – sounds about right; here, it seemed to be a repository for items that are not really appetizers, not really mains and not really sides, but all dough based in one way or another. A bit of cheese and pickled green tomato kept the fli company on its plank (which matched the table which matched the fli). I was told that it takes six to seven hours to prepare this dish; it took a tiny fraction of that to consume it.

Mantia

I expected the Mantia në Tavë (literally, mantia in a tava, a clay casserole) to be similar to their thin-skinned dumpling cousins called manti from neighboring countries, but was surprised by a drier, sturdier, baked pastry dough encasing the filling; they seemed more like goshtgizhda, the Central Asian meat pies I wrote about recently. These crisp bottomed bites were rescued by a much welcomed creamy sauce. Filled with ground veal (of course) and drenched with yogurt (of course), they were delightful.

Qofte Sharri

Ground veal mixed with kaçamak (cornmeal) oozing melted kashkaval cheese with a pleasant surprise coming from a touch of spiciness, unusual for this cuisine. A winner.

Skenderbeg

Skenderbeg is named for the 15th century Albanian national hero. It’s pounded veal rolled around a slender layer of smoked mish i thatë (literally “dried meat”) and kashkaval cheese, breaded, fried, and crowned with an aioli mayo. The smokiness leaps out on the first bite and distinguishes the dish from other cheese-stuffed veal dishes on the menu. Outstanding as well.

Kaçamak

Kaçamak is polenta that’s integrated with a sauce of slightly sour fermented kaymak; note that I said “integrated” and not “topped with” because the dairy is equally potent in terms of flavor balance; it’s the texture that betrays the presence of cornmeal. A friend who knows polenta proclaimed that it was the best he’d ever had.

Qebapa

Also known as ćevapi in neighboring Balkan countries, these are finger-sized skinless sausages made from ground veal (natch), onion, garlic, herbs and crushed red pepper (yes, there’s a welcome bit of heat). These juicy cylinders boasting crispy browned edges (bless you, Monsieur Maillard) and a wonderfully fatty mouthfeel come ten to a plate (no, that’s not too many).

Fasul

This thick, creamy, long simmered soup/stew of white beans and onions featured a chunk of smoked meat that infused the dish with its rich flavor. On a subsequent visit, I decided that it might be a good idea to cut it up into bits and stir it back in for the occasional unexpected nibble: yes, it was.

Sarma

Cabbage leaves stuffed with rice and vegetables. Well-seasoned, I detected paprika and onion powder as dominant.

Leçenik

Albanian style cornbread, dense and almost cheesecakey, distinguished by the bits of spinach within.

Bërxollë Dukagjini

Saving the fanciest for last (although everything was terrific). Pounded veal this time (not ground), kashkaval cheese inside: smoky, meaty, cheesy goodness topped with mushroom gravy. Even the rice was tasty. Superb!
 
 
Çka Ka Qëllu is located at 2321 Hughes Ave, Bronx.
 
 

Van Da

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Instagram Post 4/27-28/2019

 
Don’t come looking for steaming bowls of pho, multilayered banh mi, or the ubiquitous bun/grilled meat/garden of herbs DIY platter; the recently opened Vietnamese restaurant Van Đa at 234 East 4th St in Manhattan’s East Village answers to its own muse. Self-characterized as “modern Vietnamese cuisine”, the menu items diverge from those you might find elsewhere and even familiar offerings display their own spin. A good part of the menu is composed of small plates with a few more substantial options to consider; all of our choices were tasty if mostly single bite morsels.

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From the Hanoi column, this comparatively ample dish is Cha Ca La Vong, turmeric branzino with a heap of fresh dill, bun (rice vermicelli noodles), scallions and peanuts. It was good, but I’ve enjoyed this dish in other restaurants where the turmeric and other ingredients made a more significant statement.

Red Curry Corn Fritters from the Street Food side of the menu were light, fluffy and a modest entry point to our meal although I don’t recall much red curry in evidence.

Banh Khot are described in the Hue column of the menu as turmeric griddle cakes with wild mushrooms, coconut custard, and cured egg yolk. I’m sure that’s true, but these might be better explained as bite-sized, crunchy, coconut-forward, mushroom and herb mini mouthfuls. Good stuff.

Banh Bot Loc (Hue as well) are shrimp and pork tapioca dumplings that arrive wrapped in the banana leaves in which they were steamed. Second photo shows the sticky, chewy delicacy lurking within. Also good stuff.

Pho Short Rib Grilled Cheese sounded to me like it might actually be a sandwich and indeed a pair of slender, crunchy, triangles featuring pho beef, caramelized onions, and melted provolone came to the table with a shot of pho broth for company. Since Vietnam had been colonized by France at one time, I surmised that the shot was less about something to swig and more likely Van Da’s answer to the French dip. But perhaps not.


Banh It Ram are mochi dumplings, crispy surface, chewy just beneath, filled with a mung bean mash and topped with fried shallots. Gotta love the textural interplay. See second photo for the inside scoop.

One of the more substantial (i.e., bigger than a bite or two) dishes we selected was Grilled Eggplant with bits of seasoned lamb and mint, served with nuoc cham, a condiment made from nuoc mam (fish sauce), lime juice, and sugar at the minimum, plus a garnish of crispy noodles that provided a welcome contrast.

Served in a ceramic cup about 2½ inches in diameter, these Banh Beo are steamed savory rice cakes with minced shrimp pointed up by a hit of scallion oil and garnished with crispy bits of fried pork skin.

Van Đa is located at 234 East 4th St in Manhattan.
 
 

Lao Bian Dumpling

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Instagram Post 4/25/2019

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Happy to report that I’m still eating my way through the spacious, brightly-lit Super HK Food Court, 37-11 Main St, Flushing, in the basement of Super HK Supermarket. This visit brought me to Lao Bian Dumpling, stall number 19. After a couple of disappointing attempts involving pointing at menu items and learning they were unavailable, I settled on these pork and amaranth dumplings. Because of a somewhat similar flavor, amaranth (莧菜 or xiàncài) is sometimes called Chinese spinach, but so are other leafy greens so stick with the proper designation. An unassuming but tasty vegetable, it paired well with the mildly seasoned pork; the dumplings benefitted from the application of some kicked up sauce. A satisfying snack on a rainy afternoon.
 
 

Max & Mina’s

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Instagram Post 4/22/2019

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Since we’re in the middle of Passover and warm weather is inching ever closer, I can think of no better time than to recount the story of my pilgrimage to Max & Mina’s Ice Cream at 71-26 Main Street in Kew Gardens Hills, Queens. That they’re kosher is beside the point – and their over-the-top decor showcasing covers from 60’s era Mad Magazines, cereal boxes, and other memorabilia against a seaside themed subplot is just the tip of the icecreamberg. It’s the seemingly infinite roster of unique, unusual flavors they’ve created over the years that’s their claim to fame.

If you can name it, and even if you can’t, they’ve probably made it: Cotton Candy Pop Rocks, Pancake Chip, Sponge Bob, Circus, Snickers, Bourbon, Merlot, Coffee & Doughnuts, every breakfast cereal I can think of like Rice Krispies, Cap’n Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, Cocoa Puffs and Quisp. (Remember Quisp? I wonder if they did Quake.) If your taste runs to the more conventional, there’s always Mint Chip, Pumpkin, Nutty Pistachio, Peach, Rum Raisin, Key Lime Pie and the like. This trio comprises Peanut Butter Pie, Blackberry, and Egg Nog. I’d name more but Instagram limits me to 2200 characters. I’m told that they also have chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla.

So how does Passover factor in? In a nod to Judaica, past flavors have included Nova Lox, Herring, Horseradish, Cholent (a Sabbath stew), Esrog (the yellow citron that’s part of the Jewish holiday Sukkot) and Macaroon. But not only plain macaroon, oh no. How about Chocolate Macaroon, Coffee Caramel Macaroon…the list goes on. Horseradish gets a similar facelift from strawberry and blackberry infused versions as well, and their Babka ice cream really takes the cake.

Note that when you go (and it would be a shonde if you don’t), none of these flavors may be available, presumably to accommodate the latest experiments, but I can guarantee that they’ll be replaced by as many equally intriguing offerings in a rainbow of flavors, colors, and textures.

So nu, what are you waiting for?