Deep Fried & Frosted

And if I was ready to travel roughly 800 miles for a bowl of noodles, pork buns and some fried chicken, it better be awesome. 

It kind of was.

Simple and easy tableclothes: paper. 

In order to get the chicken, we had to make a reservation in advance. Normally, the restaurant doesn’t take reservations, but they will for their korean fried chicken (and it has to be with at least four people). Naturally, we ordered extra food in addition to the roughly 2.5 whole fried chickens we were about to consume.

No biggie. We came to eat and we were going to eat. 

Pork buns:

These babies are famous. So famous, that I felt the need to make them to see just how hard it might be. 12 hours later (includes marinating time for the pork belly), I had fairly successfully replicated them. But it certainly was so much easier to just head to the restaurant and order them. 

Thick-sliced pork belly + marinated cucumbers + green onions + hoisin + sriracha + warm, chewy bun = heaven in a bite. It’s sweet, salty, spicy, crunchy, chewy and unctuous all in one mouthful. That’s hard to find.

Mussels with a Thai Coconut Broth:

I’m pretty sure my mom said on more than two occasions, something along the lines of: “I could drink this stuff!” referring to the broth. 

Ramen:

This, and the pork buns, is what David Chang is probably most famous for. The broth takes half a day to make and requires quite a range of ingredients — chicken bones, pork bones, smoked bacon, konbu, shiitake mushrooms and onions (ironically? stupidly? I, too, have attempted this broth and it was no where near as good).

The noodles are homemade, the pork belly and pork shoulder are homemade, the egg is slow poached — ramen doesn’t get any better. While the broth was a touch on the salty side, everything else was really well done. Not to mention the size of the bowl; it was probably large enough to give a bath to a small dog. 

And of course, why we really went there to eat: the korean fried chicken:

When the waiter brought the chicken to the table, I had another “Oh my God, why are we doing this?” moment. 

The left half of the platter is korean sweet/spicy chicken. The right is just regular buttermilk fried, but with a slight kick to the brining/marinating process — they add vodka to the mix. 

Bring it on. We had four sauces, some veggies to make wraps if we wanted to and another bathtub for the bones. 

Have you ever eaten so much that thinking becomes laborious? 

My mom and I do this thing where we go on trips, solely for food. Some people think it’s ludicrous, while others think that it’s awesome. I would have to side with both, actually. 

The extent that my mom and I will travel and go to for food is sometimes ridiculous. Many times, like this time I’m about to describe, has me with my hands over my face, asking myself, “Oh my God, why are we doing this?” It’s not that it’s dangerous or reckless, it’s just a constant reminder that it’s something that will only happen when I’m with my mom on a trip for food. 

Day .5 — Most people would say Day 1, I said Day .5. Why? Because most people like to get off the plane, go to their hotel room, unpack a little bit, relax, etc. You know, do all the things “normal” people would do. 

My mom and I head to a restaurant — bags and all. 

We (more like me) Google’d the location/phone number/hours of this restaurant as we were walking out of the airport. Normally that would be okay, until it turns out that heading to our hotel from La Guardia is kind of a hassle.

Which then prompts the question from my mom: “Why don’t we just go there now?”

Me: “What?”

Mom: “We could just head straight there instead of going back to the hotel first. Call the restaurant and see if they have space for our bags.”

Me: “No. What? I am not calling the restaurant to ask if they can hold our bags. This is ridiculous. I do not want to walk into a restaurant with all of our stuff.”

Long story short - Mom:1; Me: 0.

I did end up calling the restaurant and they did indeed have space for our luggage. 

So off we were to Tertulia, for tapas, near the West Village:

And obviously, the first thing I needed after our delayed flight and mild altercation outside of LGA, was a drink. I’m normally not a huge fan of sangria, mainly because I haven’t acquired a taste yet for wine, but their’s was awesome:

Then came food. We started with the surtido de embutidos (selection of three cured meats:

Then the Coles de Bruselas (Crispy Brussels sprouts, pork belly, mojo picon):

Tosta de Mejillones (I forgot to write this one down! But it’s toast topped with mussels, golden raisins, dill and a few other things):

Brandada de Bacalao (Cod brandade with poached eggs and toast):

(Mmm! Runny yolks!)

Bocata Cordero (Smoked lamb breast sandwich, sheep’s milk cheese, pickled cauliflower):

And, two lovely flutes of Rose’ Prosecco courtesy of Ryan, the cute (but gay, sadly) bartender hailing from Chicago:

All-in-all, it wasn’t a disaster that we came straight from the airport. We met some lovely people at the table next to us, had a nice chat and had a great lunch. To New York!

It’s kind of like Benihana’s, except you do all the work. But sometimes, if you show yourselves to be slightly incompetent, or you just have a nice waitress, they’ll help you out a little bit. 

Our waitress cut our meat for us (thanks, Mom!):

And also did a bit of cooking:

The best part of not sitting in front of the grill is, you’re just “too far” to help cook, so I ended up waiting around and snacking on the fun little things in the small white dishes (see above) that come to every table. 

Then, once food IS done, you can make sweet lettuce rolls with your food:

Then you just roll them up and shove it in your mouth. It’s really difficult to be dainty with this sort of thing:

(Fun side note: I’m a righty, so I actually took this photo upside down because the button is on the right side of the camera. I got a few “what on Earth are you doings” at the table)

Okay, okay. Maybe it’s just coincidence, but this post…is also about tacos. And I’m not even trying to theme it up either. Literally, the next set of photos on my computer was tacos, and they are organized by date, so it means I ate more/different homemade tacos the next day…

Yikes. I’m not sure whether I should be pleased or if a counseling session is needed. 

Yes. Homemade corn tortillas with carnitas and the usual suspects of cilantro and onion. The green stuff in the blender is tomatillo salsa. So easy and so yummy. 

The best! 

I’m not kidding. The number of times I could eat tacos in a week is every day. Multiple meals. All day, every day. I’m not really sure what it is about tacos either. They aren’t particularly gourmet, though they do have the capability of being so. Maybe it’s the simplicity. It literally is meat wrapped in carbs with a bit of veggie and spice. That, is what it takes to be a winner. 

I love them so much, I decided to make them on a whim — tortillas included (but I didn’t have masa, so these are flour. pffffft).

My tortillas before pan cooking (no deep frying here!):

Annnnd, after:

Next up is the meat! I had leftover chicken breast (which I normally NEVER eat. Dark meat 100%) and I just re-seasoned it with some cumin and a few other things:

Then you eat it with onions and cilantro and call it a day! I definitely ate these for lunch and then later again for dinner. They’re addictive to the point of danger.