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Those of you who know me are aware that I’m a cookin’ fool and love to put my own spin on holiday dishes. Here’s how I do deviled eggs for Easter.
Happy Easter everybody!
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Previously on ethnojunkie.com, I did a springtime post that included a story about someone who dared me to come up with an ethnic fusion Passover menu. I wrote:
“Well, far be it from me to dodge a culinary challenge! So although obviously inauthentic, but certainly fun and yummy, here’s to a Sazón Pesach!
Picante Gefilte Pescado
Masa Ball Posole
Brisket Mole
Poblano Potato Kugel
Maple Chipotle Carrot Tzimmes
Guacamole spiked with Horseradish
Charoset with Pepitas and TamarindoAnd, of course, the ever popular Manischewitz Sangria!”
It was all in good fun, of course, but it got me thinking about actually creating a Jewish-Mexican fusion recipe. It isn’t strictly Kosher for Passover, but I thought the concept was worth a try. So here is my latest crack at cross cultural cooking: Masa Brei!
Now you might know that Matzo Brei (literally “fried matzo”) is a truly tasty dish consisting of matzos broken into pieces that are soaked briefly in warm milk (some folks use water), drained, soaked in beaten eggs until soft, then fried in copious quantities of butter. Typically served with sour cream and applesauce, it’s heimische cooking at its finest, Jewish soul food, and it’s easy to do.
So I thought it might be worth a try to swap out the matzos for tostadas, the milk for horchata, the sour cream for crema, and the applesauce for homemade pineapple-jalapeño salsa. A sprinkle of tajín, a scatter of chopped cilantro – and it actually worked!
Happy Passover!
!חג פסח שמח
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The early bird just might not get the worm. Or much else to eat for that matter. Timing is everything, they say: at certain restaurants and events, if you arrive too early, you’ll hear, “It’s not ready yet!”; arrive too late and the good stuff is gone. The former was the case at Kreyol Flavor, 8221 Flatlands Ave, Brooklyn. A friend of mine who knows Haitian food and the fact that I love the stuff suggested I give this mini chain (three locations) a try, so I was pleased that on a trek through Canarsie in search of Caribbean and African food, this venue made the list curated by my itinerary guide/dining buddy.
What we were able to snag was a pair of smoked herring patties that were flaky to the extreme and equally tasty. There’s another location closer to home that I’m looking forward to scoping out soon – when I can join a famished flock’s feeding frenzy.
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Seems like no one can agree on the proper name for this confection but everyone agrees that by any name it’s noteworthy. It’s the Italian rainbow, three color, tricolore, Neapolitan, Venetian, seven layer (chocolate + cake + jam + cake + jam + cake + chocolate) cookie/cake. And arguably, it’s neither cookie nor cake. It flies the colors of the Italian flag – except sometimes when yellow subs for white (a pennant sallow with age, perhaps?). Fillings range from apricot or raspberry jam or marzipan to cannoli crème (hard to find, but oh so rewarding when you do).
This wedge hails from Morrone Pastry Shop at 2349 Arthur Ave in the Bronx, Belmont’s Little Italy – almost a little too sweet (is that possible?) but good nonetheless. I’m considering working my way through the neighborhood to compare versions in a longstanding quest to equal the one with marzipan and cannoli crème I had last summer from a bakery in Staten Island that is now shuttered. Life is hard.
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Wandering around Jackson Heights yesterday looking for something with which to celebrate Poila Boishakh, Bengali New Year, we stumbled upon these Chicken Lollipops outside the venerable Merit Kabab Palace, 37-67 74th St, Queens. Featuring Indian, Pakistani, Nepali and Bangladeshi food, Merit is well known to locals and the clued-in for quick and tasty South Asian fare.
Wing drumette meat is scraped along and pushed down the bone (frenched), marinated a bit, coated in a colorful seasoned batter, and deep fried to produce a snack that’s as appealing to the eye as it is the palate. Not a dish particularly associated with the holiday, these were too cute to resist – not to mention the fact that the hungry celebratory crowds got the better of us. Well, there’s always next year.
Shubho Noboborsho! শুভ নববর্ষ
Part six in a series of reports.
Some folks look forward to the annual celebration of their birthdays or anniversaries; for me it’s the occasion to cover America’s largest food and beverage trade show right here in New York City, Specialty Food Association’s Summer Fancy Food Show. (Check out full coverage and a description of a recent event here.) Aside from the fact that it affords the chance to hob and nob with other professional foodies, see what products and brands are trending and poised to make a breakthrough, and get a sense of what the industry thinks the marketplace is craving, it gives me the opportunity to turn you on to new products to watch for locally or even order online.
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Chrouk Metae Paik Kouk (Spicy Jicama Slaw)
Saich Ko Chrawkak (Beef on a Stick)
If you live in an area where Cambodian food is not well represented (and that’s true even here in New York City) and you’re interested in doing a little quick and easy (yes, really) Cambodian home cooking, these are the products for you. At last year’s Fancy Food Show, I met Channy Chhi Laux, the founder of Angkor Cambodian Food, a San Francisco based company that specializes in authentic Cambodian spices, pastes and sauces and had a delightful conversation with her about her company and her personal history.
Those of you who follow me know that I’m an avid home cook with a focus on international cuisine, so I knew I had to try Channy’s products and she provided me with jars of Chrouk Metae (Cambodian Hot Sauce) and Lemongrass Paste (Kroeung). The photos above are the results of my experiments, and I can tell you that they were simple to prepare and tasted as good as they look.
You can get the recipes and order these (and more) ingredients on their website, https://www.angkorfood.com. And while you’re there, be sure to read the remarkable story of Channy’s life as a thirteen year old survivor of Cambodian genocide and her subsequent emigration to the United States.
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Is it warm enough yet to start writing about ice cream? (And does it even need to be warm at all?)
[1] A recent visit to the frozen food aisle at Mitsuwa Marketplace, probably the most comprehensive exclusively Japanese supermarket in the area, turned up this besquiggled, choko-cliff of an ice cream cone that was too visually compelling to forego. I made my way through the red balloon katakana (“super”), the yellow hiragana (bikkuri which means “amazed”), and the creamy soft-serve curlicue to be rewarded with a crunchy chocolate supporting infrastructure.
[2] The inside scoop (as it were). Truth in advertising: “amazed” pretty much summed it up.
Mitsuwa Marketplace is located at 595 River Road, Edgewater, NJ.
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 six posts, published on April 4 through 10, 2019.
On very rare occasion, I venture into a restaurant and know after a few bites that there is no choice but to return and work my way through the entire menu. That’s how the story begins at Boran, 462 Court St in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. Five of us enjoyed a compelling Thai meal (from multiple regions of Thailand I should add) that started magnificently and kept getting better with each course. Note that the selections I’m covering can be found in the Authentic Style (sometimes identified as “signature”) part of the menu or among the daily specials; they’re not included on the take-out menu or elsewhere on the dine-in menu.
Here they are, in no special order. (Click any photo to view in glorious high resolution.)
Meang Kham
There are some foods that are meant to be popped into one’s mouth whole, no biting allowed – Indian pani puri comes to mind. These are Meang Kham: dried shrimp, roasted coconut, roasted peanuts, shallots, ginger, lime and sweet shrimp paste all nestled in a betel leaf; open wide and let the flavors explode in your mouth.
Mixed Appetizers
This platter featured some universal favorites including chicken satay, grilled honey pork, Northern Thai style sausage (sai oua), and an assortment of tasty fried crispy treats, but a particular delight for me was the Sa Cu Sai Moo (you’ll see alternate spellings elsewhere) shown at the top of the photo reposing in their spoons. I first tasted these pork-filled steamed tapioca dumplings in a Thai restaurant in Manhattan that closed decades ago and have had difficulty finding them since; they’re often available with a peanut filling instead of pork, but that’s just not a moo-ving experience 😉. They’re also available as an appetizer item themselves, not as part of a mixed platter. Definitely try them!
Meang Pla Tood
Another flavor/texture bomb was Meang Pla Tood, one of their signature dishes: meang (you might see miang) refers to food wrapped in leaves, pla is fish, tood (you might see tod) means deep fried. This is deep fried boneless dorada with cashews and dried shrimp enhanced by ginger, red onion, bits of lime (even the peel) and lemongrass, one of those synergistic devils where the whole definitely exceeds the sum of its parts. Tasty, incredibly crispy fish and crunchy nuts in a perfect blend of sweet, sour, spicy, salty and bitter condiments that characterizes Thai cuisine. Frankly, this dish blew me away.
Khao Knook Gapi Boran
An excellent submission from among Boran’s signature dishes, Khao Knook Gapi Boran. In center stage, shrouded beneath the toss of cilantro, is the soul of this dish: fried rice infused with funky shrimp paste and topped with sweet pork. Decisions to be incorporated ad libitum from twelve o’clock, fried eggs, cucumber, red chilies, bits of pickled long beans, shredded green mango, dried shrimp, chicken sausage and red onion.
Nam Prik Aong
When you see Nam Prik on a Thai menu, you’re venturing into a fiery zone; it’s a condiment made from roasted red chilies, garlic, shallots, lime juice and fish or shrimp paste. Nam Prik Aong (you might see ong) zooms in on Northern Thailand; the dish adds nam prik to ground pork in a tomato-based sauce and is generally served with cucumber and lettuce for wrapping along with pork cracklings (you might see chicharrones 😉), freshly steamed veggies like broccoli and carrots and sweet kabocha squash. This plate also featured Sai Aua (you might see sai ua), addictive, spicy Northern Thai sausage.
Nam Ngeaw
A classic dish from Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand. Vermicelli rice noodles plus pork that’s been simmered in a spicy, garlicky, tart, tomatoey broth (nam means water, liquid, or juice) served with shredded fresh cabbage, bean sprouts and pickled mustard greens. I can’t think of a flavor that was missing.
Pad Thai
So after all of Boran’s spectacular, authentic, signature dishes I’ve been nattering about, I’ll leave you with just one more: Pad Thai. Now don’t go all anticlimax on me; this is not like any pad thai from your corner we-can-grab-lunch-here restaurant. Swaddled in a blanket of thin omelet, the steamy components maintain their heat as the crispy ingredients linger outside waiting for you to fulfill your role: break it open, mix it well, and enjoy it like you’ve never tasted pad thai before.
Boran is located at 462 Court St in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn.
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My astute dining buddy once again managed to unearth a restaurant that features a cuisine not well represented around these parts, that of Burkina Faso. As is typical of many West African restaurants, Burkindi’s menu is rather optimistic in that they don’t always have every item promised, but in my experience, the electives are generally hearty and tasty.
[1] In our quest for a Burkinabé specialty, we landed on Tô, a starch-based porridge a little like a thin fufu that’s swirled into a stew prepared from okra or a leafy vegetable. In this case we were offered Babenda, bitter greens with the addition of dried fish and soumbala, a paste made from fermented néré seeds (locust beans) – think West Africa’s answer to miso. I have some in powdered form: it’s pungent but not overwhelming.
[2] The other dish was more familiar from Ghanaian cuisine: Sauce Arachide (peanut butter soup) with remarkably tender chunks of lamb, rice on the side.
Burkindi Restaurant is located at 492 Clinton Ave, Newark, New Jersey.
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Another of my favorite neighborhoods for food exploration is Newark, New Jersey’s Ironbound District. Possibly named for the web of railroad tracks that surround the area or possibly because of its significant metalworking industry, it’s home to a large Portuguese and Brazilian population and, naturally, their cuisines. Since our primary destination was a Burkinabé restaurant in Newark (which I’ll post about soon) and the Ironbound lies at the foot of Newark Penn Station, it begged a quick side visit (is that even possible?) to Teixeira’s Bakery at 186 Ferry St.
[1] Portuguese pastries are multitudinous in diversity, eggy and delicious.
[2] The annotated version:
• Bolas de Berlim, also known as Berliners, are a sweet, filled, pillowy yeast donut. The doce de ovos filling is a typical Portuguese sweet egg custard that figures into many desserts; Teixeira’s also makes a vanilla custard (crème pâtissière) variety because, I was told by the delightful person behind the counter, “some people don’t like the egg”. IMHO, they don’t know what they’re missing.
• Lencinho means handkerchief or napkin; a square of fragile Portuguese sponge cake – practically a thick pancake – is slathered with doce de ovos and folded into a triangle as a napkin might be; the least sweet of the lot.
• Ferreirinhas start with a square of sponge cake spread with chopped almond filling (not almond paste), rolled up, and topped with more eggy goodness and sliced almonds.
• Torta Morango, a slice of strawberry jellyroll, egg-rich and supple.
• Queijada is a type of cheese cake, but not quite cheesecake, amêndoa (almond) and laranja (orange) shown here. The crusty, spare outer shell is rigid, the filling a little curd-like, too grainy to be considered a custard, but appealing nonetheless.
[3] Inside a ferreirinha and a better view of its crispy edge.
[4] On the left, a bola de Berlim filled with doce de ovos, on the right its vanilla custard sibling. Compare and contrast.
So much more to explore in the Ironbound District; I’m planning a return trip very soon when I can actually spend some time! Have I tempted you yet?