Please Don’t Tell. Actually I feel pretty good about giving this update. I am in Hong Kong and am having a glorious time (no thanks to the weather, which is incredibly hot and sticky). I’ve been running around the city revisiting places and restaurants that I experienced about a year ago. I’ve met up with old friends, eaten a few egg custards and have already spent too much money on flavored milks. It’s one of my indulgences in Asia. But I’ve also had the lovely coincidence of running into the mixologist, Jim Meehan, of PDT.
Jim and I have a mini history. Basically I volunteer for many of New York’s charity events that highlight chefs and mixologists. I usually, somewhere halfway into the event, steal away from my post and make my way to the cocktails in hopes that the second half of the event will feel a bit smoother. Jim is always there to aid in my stealth mission, delicious drink at the ready. We’ve been casual acquaintances for years and I’ve enjoyed his work at Gramercy Tavern, Pegu Club, and most recently PDT.
So I’m bringing Jim into the story because of random encounters, and we had one just the other day. As I was walking down the aisle of the airplane, searching out my seat that turned out to be a middle and didn’t recline, I saw the smiling face of Jim. Turns out he was heading to Hong Kong too! Oh the chances of life. He, Eben Freeman (previously of Tailor) and Linden Pride (from Spice Temple and Rockpool Bar and Grill in Sydney) are doing a master mixology event at the Landmark Mandarin Oriental on Hong Kong Island.
So now I’m in Hong Kong and am going to help with the event that features solid (literally) cocktails, an eight course dinner by Michelin 2-star chef with drink pairings, and a brown spirits evening with historic recipes from the 1880s-1930s. I love working events (and when I say working, I more mean experiencing) because of the exposure to concepts, ideas and flavors. I am so thrilled to be hear at the same time as these three incredibly talented bartenders that I couldn’t not tell. I had to…just a little bit.
I wish I could say that I went to an event where handlebar moustaches, chops, and fu man chus were awarded medals based on original flourishes and relevance to the bearers’ facial features.. But alas, I didn’t get to see an impressive showing of facial hair (you can check out options here though! 
foyer sent out underwhelming dishes. I worked with chef Anita Lo, from Annisa, who created one of the more interesting dishes there: beef tartar, garnished with daikon, an anchovy chip, and finished with a drizzling of a chilled anchovy broth. The flavors were rich yet light, salty but balanced with sweet, and overall very tasty. But our neighbors down the way were putting out extremely over salted oysters, which had been embellished with bacon, and unimaginative bites, like asparagus wrapped in beef carpaccio. Where was the creativity?
Only two other restaurants, aside from Annisa, had crave-worthy options. Michelle Bernstein had perfectly toasted bread, crunchy on the outside and pillow-soft on the inside, which encased bounteous amounts of uni that were on the verge of dripping out the sides of the warmed carbohydrate casing. I’m pretty certain that anything with sea urchin in the mix is delicious, but I expressly appreciate the use of an expensive seafood item wrapped up in ordinary sandwich form; which thusly elevates the sandwich form into something exquisite and divine. Good on you, chef Bernstein.
I’d made from wandering around the city. Hong Kong is a city that reminded me so much of New York–but in an Asian way–begging to be examined, inspected and traversed. It is busy, with hawkers and high-end shops lining the same street, and bubbling vats of food are on every corner. The skyline is impressive and modern, and a “Guinness Book of World Records” light show takes place every night. Hong Kong is a vibrant and literally colorful city that caters to the desire to eat. Peking ducks glisten and drip in storefront windows, lobster balls and pork intestines can be fried in a New York minute in the sidewalk vendors cauldron of oil– all while you shield your bag of cream filled waffle bites from the elbows of the customer next to you. Whether you’re a shopper or an eater, or both, this city will constantly find ways to entertain you
into the meal with shumai and hargow, pork ribs and char sui bao. I waited towards the end of the meal before I ordered braised chicken feet and century eggs, but by this point, everyone was trusting and willing to try new foods. I pointed to our neighbors’ tables and ordered things that I was no longer familiar with. We ate lotus wrapped packages stuffed with dates, beans and pork. We bit into dumplings we assumed were savory but turned out to be sweet. All in all, the dim sum adventure turned out to be less scary than expected for them, and a tasty delight (as expected) for me.
a long list of places we should and must try. We knocked off about four restaurants on the list every day, eating spicy, hairy crabs, tracking down the eggiest egg custards, slurping down tendon soups, and of course eating for hours in dim sum palaces, pausing between courses so that the full sensation would subside so we could try the next round of carts. We were Hong Kong eating machines.
Line a sheet tray with wax paper and grab a cup of water. Lay the wrappers out, six at a time, and spoon a tablespoon of filling into the centers. Lightly wet the rim of the wrapper with your finger and then pick up the wonton and seal the edges, making sure no air is trapped inside. Lay the finished dumpling on the tray and cover these with a damp towel as well. When the tray is full, remove the cloth and put in the freezer. When the dumplings are frozen, transfer to a ziploc.
Today Seoyoung is leaving. She’s heading back to Seoul to figure out her future. Her father is sick and she hasn’t been home in three years..and she misses her mom’s home-cooking.
friend’s restaurant, put on our whites and rolled up our sleeves. I got to chopping Napa cabbage while she robo-couped massive amounts of garlic and ginger, mixed cabbage with loads of coarse salt, prepped gochutgaru pepper (Korean red chili flakes minus seeds) with brined shrimp, and trimmed up some scallions and onions to add water content, color and zing. It was a big project–we made enough kimchi to fill an eight quart lexan. I wanted something to remind me of her and her hot-tempered ways, so what better than a fiery, pungent kimchi?
I couldn’t stop smiling as we worked because Seoyoung has taught me so much about Korean food, yet somehow, we saved a Korean staple for our last kitchen encounter. How, after a year of cooking with her, had I not made kimchi??? She was the one who served me my first bowl of pork rib stew (and then I became obsessed and made it every other day–real good for the heart I hear..!), cooked seaweed soup for me when I had a cold, and introduced me to my favorite banchan dish: salted fish stomach.
friend was in town visiting a few days ago and he wanted to take him out for a great meal. I suggested Gahm Mi Oak, a restaurant known for their ox bone soup and daikon kimchi. Seoyoung had taken me here back in the fall and I fell in love with their dish of modum bossam. It’s a ridiculously soul satisfying dish that requires assembly at the table–and I love getting my hands dirty during a meal. Everything tastes so much better when there’s sauce dribbling down your wrist. Truth. A large platter of roasted pork belly, salted cabbage, a small mountain of oysters, chili, garlic and kimchi are all meant to be wrapped up into little bundles and then accented with soy bean paste, shrimp dip and chili sauce. You can add and adjust flavors to your heart’s content. And the combination of a chilled oyster and a warm piece of pork belly somehow sets off philharmonic overtures in your head! The dish is easily large enough for 3 people, but in my most gluttonous dreams, I would order a plate just for myself.
So for the time being, I’ve lost one of my best friends here. I’ve become so accustomed to eating, cooking and thinking in Korean that I guess I’ll just have to continue on my path of Korean education until I’m fluent in Korean ways. I’ve been so lucky to have another friend in my life who is so completely consumed by food, ingredients, cooking, learning, reading and basically anything that’s consumption related–she’s irreplaceable. I will miss our day trips to H Mart for cod roe, Hong Kong Super Market for fish sauce and cheap vegetables, and Flushing for chewy black noodles. Sigh. Hurry back to New York Seoyoung…and bring some fermented crab back while you’re at it!
At the time I was 23 and working illegally in a club in Roppongi, the Westerner infiltrated zone of Tokyo. I didn’t have to be at work until about 11pm, so my days were full of food exploration and food experimentation. I lived in Tokyo for only about six weeks, but in that time, I became extremely familiar with good ramen and soba. Not to mention, I wasn’t earning a fortune, so soup was the economical meal of choice. Unfortunately I only dabbled in sushi, a mistake I regret to this day…though I did eat the most scrumptious sushi in the world at the Tsukiji fish market (so all was not a total failure!).
bar far too long. Sam’s friends ended up ordering pork buns, and my mind automatically envisioned Momofuku’s delectable steamed buns that encase two luscious pieces of perfectly braised pork belly, hoisin sauce, crisp pickled cucumbers and scallions. What a let down! The buns came with measly strips of not so tender pork belly, iceberg lettuce (blah!!) and a dribbling of mayo. I actually shied away from putting it in my mouth, but Sam insisted for ‘experience’s sake’ that I should try it. I regretted it–and still regret it.
ingredients (I’m loving the appearance of black garlic everywhere!), and occasionally attend food events. I guiltily, though pleasurably, do all of the above…but only recently became totally fascinated with food history.
Wouldn’t you know, something better (and easier) fell into my lap. I was catering uptown, right across from my roommate’s workplace, so he offered to give me the grand tour (only because I was complaining about the need to waste an hour before my call-time, and it was too cold outside). We popped into the Academy of Medicine on 103rd and 5th and headed straight to the restoration room. Upon stepping foot into the work area, which was strewn with prints, books, lots of leather and chemical equipment, we 
stopped in front of his colleague’s table and our jaws fell open. We ooh’ed and aah’ed over three original Vesalius prints. It is believed that Andreas Vesalius produced the most profound work on human anatomy in the 16th century. I was looking at prints, 2 feet from my face, from the 1500s. I hadn’t expected to encounter such beautiful, or historically groundbreaking, work when I stepped into my roommate’s office building.
one-on-one time with a few of these legends. Today I read through a hand written manuscript from 1791 where a woman not only collected food recipes, but included recipes for varnish, cement, burn salves and many other remedies that were left up to the housewife to know. The book was old, ruffled at the edges, smeared with food stains, and obviously written with care. I pulled out my own boring, yellow leather book that I carry everywhere in case I’m hit by food inspiration. Hers was so much more interesting…!
You know the saying that “man cannot live on bread alone”? It doesn’t hold true in Africa. My friend Irena and I have been traveling through Africa on an ambitious journey covering eight countries in three months. Ridiculous you may say? I know…I agree. But that’s what adventures are made of!
