Thursday, January 29, 2015
KOKKIRI CASUAL CUISINE: COURTEOUS AND PROMPT KOREAN-AMERICAN FAST FOOD
On a gusty winter Thursday, two colleagues were nice enough to join me on the trek over to Northern Boulevard’s Kokkiri Casual Cuisine. Shortly after 12:30, we arrived to a clean and modern environment, adorned by contemporary décor and speedy service.*
For this round of lunch, our kimchi pizza pork cutlet emerged as the winner. This dish was even cheesier than expected, with the added kick of kimchi:
Taking a cue from local Yelpers, we also tried the kimchi buns ($2.00 each) and steamed dumplings (total of eight; we divvied it up and requested four with kimchi and four with meat).* Alongside banchan, this made for a light yet rounded meal.
And finally, since it was a chilly day, we couldn’t leave without sampling some seafood tofu soup (soondobu jiggae)—which arrived as PIPING HOT as it was hearty:
May Flushing Food suggest: eating all buns and dumplings when they arrive! The recipes here cool rather quickly.
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* http://www.yelp.com/biz/kokkiri-casual-cuisine-flushing
Media credits: Helen Y.
Gadget: Nikon® Coolpix™ AW110
Software: Fotor, imgflip
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
RED BOWL NOODLE SHOP: FREQUENT STOP FOR NIGHT OWLS AND COMMUTERS
At the corner of Main Street and 41st Avenue awaits Flushing’s iconic Red Bowl Noodle Shop. Word has it that ten years ago—when Flushing was but a sleepy final stop for the 7 Train—a Taiwanese owner took a chance and set up camp at 40-52 Main Street.
The same owner has since entrusted his business to Guangdong cooks to avail late-night patrons to an array of different regional Chinese cuisines besides noodles. Combined with seasoned wait staff, service here is exceptionally fast, even around peak hours like 9:00 PM on a weekday night.
For food, you could sample everything from beef noodle soup (“niuroumian”) for $7.25 to roast duck to some more eclectic options (frog, anyone?!).
Red Bowl’s no-fail congee dish is its sliced pork congee with preserved egg ($5.25). Having had some recently, we chose to order seafood congee ($8.25) instead. Brought piping-hot to our table in under five minutes, this congee option meshed together ginger, shrimp, tile fish, squid, and jellyfish(!) into a symphonic broth not unlike what one might expect from Congee Village.* Flushing Food paired our congee with beef and ox tripe in hot sauce ($7.75; a Top Ten choice).
After polishing off both congee and tripe dishes, we dug into an order of tomato with beef over rice ($7.25). This rice dish was light and slightly sweet:
While Red Bowl Noodle Shop isn’t the most economic option on Main today, its emphasis on speedy service and varied styles of food suggests that it will remain the iconic corner stop for years to come.**
May Flushing Food suggest: rising early for the all-you-can-eat breakfast.
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* Both the Allen Street and Bowery locations.
** http://www.yelp.com/biz/red-bowl-noodle-shop-flushing
Media credits: Helen Y.
Gadget: Nikon® Coolpix™ AW110
Software: Fotor, imgflip
The same owner has since entrusted his business to Guangdong cooks to avail late-night patrons to an array of different regional Chinese cuisines besides noodles. Combined with seasoned wait staff, service here is exceptionally fast, even around peak hours like 9:00 PM on a weekday night.
For food, you could sample everything from beef noodle soup (“niuroumian”) for $7.25 to roast duck to some more eclectic options (frog, anyone?!).
Red Bowl’s no-fail congee dish is its sliced pork congee with preserved egg ($5.25). Having had some recently, we chose to order seafood congee ($8.25) instead. Brought piping-hot to our table in under five minutes, this congee option meshed together ginger, shrimp, tile fish, squid, and jellyfish(!) into a symphonic broth not unlike what one might expect from Congee Village.* Flushing Food paired our congee with beef and ox tripe in hot sauce ($7.75; a Top Ten choice).
After polishing off both congee and tripe dishes, we dug into an order of tomato with beef over rice ($7.25). This rice dish was light and slightly sweet:
While Red Bowl Noodle Shop isn’t the most economic option on Main today, its emphasis on speedy service and varied styles of food suggests that it will remain the iconic corner stop for years to come.**
May Flushing Food suggest: rising early for the all-you-can-eat breakfast.
---
* Both the Allen Street and Bowery locations.
** http://www.yelp.com/biz/red-bowl-noodle-shop-flushing
Media credits: Helen Y.
Gadget: Nikon® Coolpix™ AW110
Software: Fotor, imgflip
Saturday, January 24, 2015
LAO DONG BEI: HARBIN MOM-AND-POP SHOP ON KISSENA BOULEVARD
At 5:45 on a brisk weekday, Flushing Food settled in at Lao Dong Bei Restaurant (44-09 Kissena Boulevard). Guests at other tables were already boisterous, clinking bottles of Budweiser® together. Patrons individually motioned to the waitress for more bottles. Harbin and Shenyang accents filled the small room.* There were six tables total: one seating two, three seating four, and two seating upwards of six (occasionally, up to fourteen!).**
The restaurant owner, Mrs. Zhu, hails from Harbin, as does her husband (the chef).*** Excited to try some Harbin entrées, Flushing Food selected two of the Top Ten dishes: crispy sliced fish with cumin ($11.93) and cumin lamb ($11.01). As a balancing appetizer, Flushing Food settled for winter melon and seaweed egg drop soup ($4.58) after learning that the kitchen was out of country-style cucumber ($5.05).
Here’s Flushing Food’s play-by-play of our dinner:
The winter melon and seaweed soup was a decent palate cleanser in preparation for the oilier entrées. Lao Dong Bei was as generous with melon and seaweed (alongside wispy ribbons of egg) as it was light-handed on sodium. After a few sips, our palates were primed for impending oils and spices.
As expected, our plate of cumin lamb was a greasy pile of goodness. Happily nestled on a thin bed of lettuce, each individual piece was burst with flavor. We noticed that cumin seeds could easily be brushed off—perfect for guests who like lamb but not so much cumin.
But, our seafood entrée emerged as the evening’s winner. Perhaps not surprising, since that the city’s name originates from a Manchurian word for “place for drying fishing nets”!**** Tastefully presented on a bed of lettuce to soak up oils, each sliced fish fillet was as fluffy as the last, despite it being a fried (read: oil-heavy) recipe. Lao Dong Bei’s chef achieved a nice depth of flavor, with cumin being a generous point guard with fellow spices.
May Flushing Food suggest: avoiding the table closest to the window. It’s farthest from the kitchen, shaky, and too close for comfort to the front door.
* The first difference you might pick up about many dongbei accents are the suffixed r-sounds (儿, pronounced “er”). For example, chuan (BBQ sticks) would be pronounced "chuan'r”. Mian (noodles) would be slurred into "mian'r". Some have fondly nicknamed dongbei speakers Mandarin Chinese’s pirates.
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** http://www.yelp.com/biz/lao-dong-bei-restaurant-flushing?start=40
*** Informal interview. Monday, January 5, 2015.
****http://china-trade-research.hktdc.com/business-news/article/Fast-Facts/Harbin-Heilongjiang-City-Information/ff/en/1/1X000000/1X09WA24.htm
Media credits: Helen Y.
Gadget: Nikon® Coolpix™ AW110
The restaurant owner, Mrs. Zhu, hails from Harbin, as does her husband (the chef).*** Excited to try some Harbin entrées, Flushing Food selected two of the Top Ten dishes: crispy sliced fish with cumin ($11.93) and cumin lamb ($11.01). As a balancing appetizer, Flushing Food settled for winter melon and seaweed egg drop soup ($4.58) after learning that the kitchen was out of country-style cucumber ($5.05).
Here’s Flushing Food’s play-by-play of our dinner:
The winter melon and seaweed soup was a decent palate cleanser in preparation for the oilier entrées. Lao Dong Bei was as generous with melon and seaweed (alongside wispy ribbons of egg) as it was light-handed on sodium. After a few sips, our palates were primed for impending oils and spices.
As expected, our plate of cumin lamb was a greasy pile of goodness. Happily nestled on a thin bed of lettuce, each individual piece was burst with flavor. We noticed that cumin seeds could easily be brushed off—perfect for guests who like lamb but not so much cumin.
But, our seafood entrée emerged as the evening’s winner. Perhaps not surprising, since that the city’s name originates from a Manchurian word for “place for drying fishing nets”!**** Tastefully presented on a bed of lettuce to soak up oils, each sliced fish fillet was as fluffy as the last, despite it being a fried (read: oil-heavy) recipe. Lao Dong Bei’s chef achieved a nice depth of flavor, with cumin being a generous point guard with fellow spices.
May Flushing Food suggest: avoiding the table closest to the window. It’s farthest from the kitchen, shaky, and too close for comfort to the front door.
* The first difference you might pick up about many dongbei accents are the suffixed r-sounds (儿, pronounced “er”). For example, chuan (BBQ sticks) would be pronounced "chuan'r”. Mian (noodles) would be slurred into "mian'r". Some have fondly nicknamed dongbei speakers Mandarin Chinese’s pirates.
---
** http://www.yelp.com/biz/lao-dong-bei-restaurant-flushing?start=40
*** Informal interview. Monday, January 5, 2015.
****http://china-trade-research.hktdc.com/business-news/article/Fast-Facts/Harbin-Heilongjiang-City-Information/ff/en/1/1X000000/1X09WA24.htm
Media credits: Helen Y.
Gadget: Nikon® Coolpix™ AW110
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
★2015 MICHELIN BIB GOURMAND SELECTIONS★HUNAN HOUSE: MINESWEEPER WITH YOUR FOOD
SPONSOR'S LINK: HUNAN HOUSE
How does the Hunan take on spicy stack up against Szechuan (also Sichuan)? Let us be blunt: Most Hunanese dishes make their Szechuan counterparts seem like child’s play.
For example, the cooks at Hunan House (137-40 Northern Boulevard) are significantly heavier-handed with the fresh chilies and supplementing cumin. Translation? Land—er, dish—mines everywhere. Meanwhile, Hunan cooks typically omit the numbing peppercorns you’ve come to depend upon in your favorite Szechuan dishes. So, there will be no softening the blow of each chili bomb to your hapless taste buds.
Flushing Food especially stands behind two of Hunan House’s “top ten” dishes: sliced fish in hot chili sauce ($16.95); and red-braised pork ($12.95). Outside the top ten, a popular dish that is better left to the heat veterans is the steamed fish head with chopped chilies ($24.95). To sum things up, Ouch!
The décor at Hunan House is tasteful.* Plates are served family style, and servers have the reserved but prompt professionalism commonly in higher-end Chinese restaurants.
But why take our word for how hot things are? Give Hunan House a go, and have your taste buds go out with a blast at Hunan House.
May Flushing Food suggest: visiting when you have plenty of time to play minesweeper with your dinner.
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* http://www.yelp.com/biz/hunan-house-flushing
Picture credits: Helen Y.
How does the Hunan take on spicy stack up against Szechuan (also Sichuan)? Let us be blunt: Most Hunanese dishes make their Szechuan counterparts seem like child’s play.
For example, the cooks at Hunan House (137-40 Northern Boulevard) are significantly heavier-handed with the fresh chilies and supplementing cumin. Translation? Land—er, dish—mines everywhere. Meanwhile, Hunan cooks typically omit the numbing peppercorns you’ve come to depend upon in your favorite Szechuan dishes. So, there will be no softening the blow of each chili bomb to your hapless taste buds.
Flushing Food especially stands behind two of Hunan House’s “top ten” dishes: sliced fish in hot chili sauce ($16.95); and red-braised pork ($12.95). Outside the top ten, a popular dish that is better left to the heat veterans is the steamed fish head with chopped chilies ($24.95). To sum things up, Ouch!
The décor at Hunan House is tasteful.* Plates are served family style, and servers have the reserved but prompt professionalism commonly in higher-end Chinese restaurants.
But why take our word for how hot things are? Give Hunan House a go, and have your taste buds go out with a blast at Hunan House.
May Flushing Food suggest: visiting when you have plenty of time to play minesweeper with your dinner.
----
* http://www.yelp.com/biz/hunan-house-flushing
Picture credits: Helen Y.
Monday, January 5, 2015
DUBUDUBOP: CONVENIENT LUNCH GETAWAY
SPONSOR'S LINK: DUBUDUBOP
If you want some quick standard Korean food, visit Dubudubop* at 147-34B Northern Boulevard. There is rarely a wait to be seated at this spacious Crate and Barrel®-esque restaurant.
For extra ease of ordering, one of the servers is trilingual (native fluency in Korean and Chinese; working proficiency in English). As a bonus, there’s a Samsung flat screen near the kitchen, allowing you to get your fix of cheesy Korean soap operas for the day.
As with many Korean restaurants, the Dubudubop dining experience kicks off with an array of complimentary banchan (appetizer dishes) paired with hot barley tea.
Flushing Food enjoyed all the banchan here, with the exception of the pickled chili banchan (appetizer).** These pickles are best left alone unless you want to add an extra kick of spice to your soup entrée(s). But be warned—it’s an unforgiving kick.
Overall, Flushing Food was most happy with the quantity of meat in our entrées, which arrived less than fifteen minutes after we ordered. Not feeling adventurous for that day’s lunch, we opted for a hearty tofu soup and a beef and rice dish. Our seafood tofu soup ($8.99 for lunch; $10.99 for dinner) really hit the spot! There was black ice on the streets outside, but we were fanning ourselves after just a few sips of 해물 순두부.
Our beef bibimbap was almost as good. For $12.99 (lunch) or $14.99 (dinner), 소고기 돌판 비빔밥 arrives at your table on a hot stone, ready for your server to sizzle together right before your hungry eyes.
May Flushing Food suggest: treating Dubudubop as a cash-only restaurant.***
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* I think the literal translation for “dubudubop” is “tofu and tofu rice”. Please correct me if I’m wrong!
** I tried the pickled chili solo, figuring that because it arrived on a banchan dish, it was mild enough to eat alone. WRONG.
*** http://www.yelp.com/biz/dubudubop-flushing-2
Media credits: Helen Y.
If you want some quick standard Korean food, visit Dubudubop* at 147-34B Northern Boulevard. There is rarely a wait to be seated at this spacious Crate and Barrel®-esque restaurant.
For extra ease of ordering, one of the servers is trilingual (native fluency in Korean and Chinese; working proficiency in English). As a bonus, there’s a Samsung flat screen near the kitchen, allowing you to get your fix of cheesy Korean soap operas for the day.
As with many Korean restaurants, the Dubudubop dining experience kicks off with an array of complimentary banchan (appetizer dishes) paired with hot barley tea.
Flushing Food enjoyed all the banchan here, with the exception of the pickled chili banchan (appetizer).** These pickles are best left alone unless you want to add an extra kick of spice to your soup entrée(s). But be warned—it’s an unforgiving kick.
Overall, Flushing Food was most happy with the quantity of meat in our entrées, which arrived less than fifteen minutes after we ordered. Not feeling adventurous for that day’s lunch, we opted for a hearty tofu soup and a beef and rice dish. Our seafood tofu soup ($8.99 for lunch; $10.99 for dinner) really hit the spot! There was black ice on the streets outside, but we were fanning ourselves after just a few sips of 해물 순두부.
Our beef bibimbap was almost as good. For $12.99 (lunch) or $14.99 (dinner), 소고기 돌판 비빔밥 arrives at your table on a hot stone, ready for your server to sizzle together right before your hungry eyes.
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May Flushing Food suggest: treating Dubudubop as a cash-only restaurant.***
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* I think the literal translation for “dubudubop” is “tofu and tofu rice”. Please correct me if I’m wrong!
** I tried the pickled chili solo, figuring that because it arrived on a banchan dish, it was mild enough to eat alone. WRONG.
*** http://www.yelp.com/biz/dubudubop-flushing-2
Media credits: Helen Y.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
SINGAS FAMOUS PIZZA: BUY TWO, GET ONE FREE PLAIN PIE
SPONSOR'S LINK: SINGAS FAMOUS PIZZA
As a self-proclaimed pizza plebeian, pizza is fantastic, whether it’s the thinnest coal-fired pie in Brooklyn or the thickest deep dish in Chicago.* All I ask is that the pizza is made fresh to order.
For freshness, Singas Famous Pizza (the 43-69 Kissena Boulevard location) hits the spot. Steady crowds visit for the juicy single-serving 10” pies, going for just $6.75 each! The plain (standard cheese) pie—a local crowd favorite—is yours for just $5.75.
Bonus: Between Monday to Thursday, order two pizzas for pickup. You can get a (third) plain pie for free.
May Flushing Food suggest: not forgetting to bring cash!
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* http://pizza.com/chicago-style-pizza-vs-new-york-style-pizza
** http://www.yelp.com/biz/singas-famous-pizza-flushing-2
Picture credits: Helen Y.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
GU-SHINE RESTAURANT: SERVING UP TAIWANESE FOOD AND HOSPITALITY FOR OVER TWENTY-FIVE YEARS
SPONSOR'S LINK: GU-SHINE RESTAURANT
I prefer to visit restaurants when the boss isn’t around. But Nancy Chen, owner of Gu-Shine Restaurant, wouldn’t have any of this nonsense.
True to typical Taiwanese form, Ms. Chen’s brand of hospitality is as insistent as it is warm: “Why didn’t you let me know you were visiting?” After I mumbled an excuse about not wanting to trouble restaurant managers, she shook her head. Mrs. Chen repeated with a gentle smile not unlike my waipo (maternal grandmother), “Why didn’t you let me know?”
Though “retired” after twenty-five years of managing Gu-Shine Restaurant, Mrs. Chen has no plans to take time off from her beloved mom-and-pop establishment.
Her care ensures that Taiwanese dishes are “what [Ms. Chen] left behind in Taiwan” over two decades ago.** The forte of Gu-Shine is its refreshing Taiwanese-style qingdan (清淡) approach, which uses a very light hand for oil and spices:
May Flushing Food suggest: asking Nancy Chen about the story behind the tree just outside the restaurant, pictured above.***
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*, ** Interview, Monday December 29, 2014.
** https://order.flushingfood.com/kushiang
Picture credits: Helen Y.
I prefer to visit restaurants when the boss isn’t around. But Nancy Chen, owner of Gu-Shine Restaurant, wouldn’t have any of this nonsense.
True to typical Taiwanese form, Ms. Chen’s brand of hospitality is as insistent as it is warm: “Why didn’t you let me know you were visiting?” After I mumbled an excuse about not wanting to trouble restaurant managers, she shook her head. Mrs. Chen repeated with a gentle smile not unlike my waipo (maternal grandmother), “Why didn’t you let me know?”
Though “retired” after twenty-five years of managing Gu-Shine Restaurant, Mrs. Chen has no plans to take time off from her beloved mom-and-pop establishment.
Her care ensures that Taiwanese dishes are “what [Ms. Chen] left behind in Taiwan” over two decades ago.** The forte of Gu-Shine is its refreshing Taiwanese-style qingdan (清淡) approach, which uses a very light hand for oil and spices:
May Flushing Food suggest: asking Nancy Chen about the story behind the tree just outside the restaurant, pictured above.***
---
*, ** Interview, Monday December 29, 2014.
** https://order.flushingfood.com/kushiang
Picture credits: Helen Y.
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