Showing posts with label Chinese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chinese. Show all posts

Monday, 12 November 2012

Chow Mein Means Stir-Fried Noodles


This is not chow mein

These days it seems like I only blog when I have something to rant about. If I keep it up, this might just merge with my other blog. But nothing raises my ire about Chinese restaurants as much as serving "chow mein" without noodles.

More... Recovering from a wicked bout of the flu, I was anxiously awaiting my first meal in three days. At some point after the nausea was gone, I was just trying to see how long I could go without eating. Once I finally regained my appetite, I ordered Chinese.

Growing up on the West Coast, ordering "chow mein" meant only the slightest bit of ambiguity. You're either getting the thick, soft noodle, or the crispy, thin noodle. The thin, crispy noodle is also known as Hong Kong style chow mein. Out here on the East Coast, through whatever asinine etymological perversion, apparently chow mein can mean no noodles at all. Instead, what I got was a glob of brown sauce and mixed-in bits and pieces, known in Chinese as 雜碎. Yes, this was chop-suey.

This is not the first time I've seen this monstrosity in Chinese kitchens. And to add insult to injury, I even found this order slip in the take-out bag.



The restaurant had even written on there "large pork fried noodles." Well technically they wrote "large meat fried face" but the Chinese word for face (面) is a homonym for the word noodle (麵) and was probably substituted for kitchen short-hand. Either that, or they realized the sick joke they were playing on the unsuspecting customers.

Having lived in New York for several years now, I've known that East Coast chow mein is actually called "lo mein." I just thought that this restaurant, which billed itself as authentic, wouldn't stand for this sort of linguistic atrocity.

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Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Mission Chinese Food Accomplished


Mapo Tofu, Kurobuta pork shoulder, Szechuan peppercorns, chili oil

I've been hearing about Mission Chinese Food for some time now. This former pop up that eventually took over a non-descript family restaurant has made "best of" lists all over the country. When I found out that one of my childhood friends was working there, I made it a point to drop in.

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Look for Lung Shan Restaurant. The storefront's unchanged.

By now, Mission Chinese's storied past is already well documented, but Josh at Food GPS did a great write up last year on its history. From what my friend told me, Mission Chinese has completely displaced Lung Shan, though the former proprietors still staff the back. Instead, my American born Chinese friend was the only Asian face in the front of the house.

Though the decor still consists of the tacky Chinese decorations that adorn Chinese restaurants worldwide, there were some ambiance changes of note. I'm assuming that Lung Shan didn't play The Strokes over minuscule speakers to dinners in Christmas light dim illumination. Chinese typically brightly light their restaurants, in contrast to Western mood lighting. The result is that Mission Chinese has a clash of moods, forcing the Chinese decor remnants to take on an ironic meaning.

Now that the hype has died down a little, it's actually possible to get a table with a minor wait. I went on a Sunday and waited less than twenty minutes for a table for four at 6. Having an inside (wo)man didn't help me get to the top of the list, but it turned out not to be a problem at all.


Tea Smoked Eel, pulled ham hock, Chinese celery, rice noodle, cognac

We started with the tea smoked eel rolls, Beijing vinegar peanuts, and hot and sour cucumbers as cold dish appetizers. While many of Mission Chinese's dishes were fairly traditional with some modern flourishes and ingredients, the eel rolls were unique to me. Unfortunately, my disdain for celery did not overcome the rest of the dish.


Wild pepper leaves, pressed tofu, salted chili broth, pumpkin

The above pictured ma po tofu is an example of the more common Chinese dishes with a little flair. Like the thrice cooked bacon, the ma po tofu had multi-layered flavors. So much of Asian fusion often boils down to adulterating Oriental cuisine by making it much too sweet. I didn't get that impression here. The thrice cooked bacon, which I imagine was derivative of twice cooked pork belly, consisted of amalgamations of tastes. I could get a savory sensation biting in, a smooth mouth feel of umami, then a lingering numbness due to the Szechuan peppers. The wild pepper leaves dish felt familiar enough to be identifiably Chinese, but yet it had a smokiness that I associated with Southern collard greens. It was flavor combinations like these that kept every dish exciting.

That's not to say the more "traditional" dishes weren't stellar as well. For $11, you can get a heaping of , salt and peppered on a sizzling platter. Though the ingredients were more along the lines of the things you would've found on Lung Shan's menu, the execution was impressive. In a pure Chinese cook-off, Mission Chinese would be able to hold its own against the stalwarts of the cuisine. It may not win, but it would certainly demonstrate that it could innovate without denigrating Chinese food.

Mission Chinese Food
missionchinesefood.com
2234 Mission Street
San Francisco, 94110
(415) 863-2800
No reservations and no parties over 8.
^

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Homemade Beef Noodle Soup 牛肉麵 Recipe


Being Taiwanese-American, I am ashamed of not knowing much about Taiwanese cooking. Sure, I can enjoy a night on the town eating through a Taiwanese night market, but I don't know how to prepare much of what I see. Food, je t'aime did a great write-up and photo entry on Taipei's Shilin Night Market (士林夜市). So when my friend Stephen offered to make me some of his famous beef noodle soup, I jumped at the chance and asked if I could watch him prepare it too.

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Since there are so many variations on beef noodle soup, no recipe can be definitive. Stephen told me his family recipe was no secret. In fact, I called my mom and she told me she had her own recipe as well but never taught me. You may notice that this recipe does not have any units of measurement. If you're making beef noodle soup, it's likely that you'll have had it before and can determine your own proportions of ingredients by taste. If you haven't tried it before, does it really matter how accurate the taste is? Just adjust to your preferences.

This recipe is best made a big potful at a time. Good for several servings and several days. It may even freeze well.

Ingredients

Two Onions (we used red, but I don't think it matters)
Tomato
Garlic
Napa Cabbage
Green Onions

Beef Shortrib (although most beef noodle soup involves beef shanks, Stephen insisted that the better cut of meat made a better soup. Also, the long cooking time probably compensated for lack of bone for a proper stock.)
Flour Noodles (we used a Korean brand, but you can substitute however you wish)
Imperial Spice Packet 滷味香 (this is where most non-Chinese cooks may run into a snag. Stephen got his from Taiwan, but I've seen equivalent packets in Chinatown. It's a combination of spices, most importantly star anise, cloves, cinnamon used for braises.)
Soy Sauce
Rice Wine
Brown Sugar



Imperial Spice and Noodles

Stephen's simple recipe involves the use of every dorm-bound, college student's best friend, a slow cooker.

1. Chop the onions and slice the beef into large cubes.



2. Brown the beef with the onions and some garlic.



3. Quarter the tomato. Combine the beef, onions, garlic, tomato in the slow cooker. Cover with a combination of soy sauce, rice wine, water and a dash of oil. Pop in two or three spice packets.



4. Put the slow cooker on low and leave it overnight. Your kitchen will smell delicious.

5. For lunch the next day, fry the napa cabbage or any type of hearty, leafy green. Strain out the onions and garlic from the broth. They were there just for flavor. Cook the noodles separately in clear water. If you cook the noodles in the broth, the starch will thicken the soup and you'll have a hard time making multiple batches.

6. When the noodles are al dente, strain, place in bowl. Add the broth and cabbage. Garnish with green onion.




Food, je'taime also coincidentally wrote up her own family recipe here. That should give you an idea of the variation on this common, but popular dish. I don't write recipes too often, but check out my Sticky Rice Recipe too.
^

Sunday, 25 July 2010

White Rabbit Candy Back as Golden Rabbit


Standing at the checkout counter at 99 Ranch, I noticed a vaguely familiar white bunny. But wait, this bunny was anthropomorphized. The face looked the same, but clothes? Blasphemy! I knew that White Rabbit candy had been hit by the melamine milk scandal back in 2008, but I had assumed it returned back to the market after resourcing its milk.
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Well Shanghai's Guan Sheng Yuan Food did indeed bring back the iconic candy with milk now from Australia. It looks like in an effort to distance itself from poisonous candy, it changed from what most people remembered:

Photo Credit Mike Gonzalez/Wiki Commons

Now it's Golden Rabbit Creamy Candy. Gone is the plain white motif. I do wonder though, what makes the candy "golden." After all, the candy's the same color, right down to the translucent piece of rice paper.

Did you know that the candy was first branded with a red Mickey Mouse when a British merchant opened a candy plant in Shanghai? Or that Premier Zhou Enlai presented a bag as a gift to Richard Nixon on his visit to China? This white candy has its hands deep in China's culture. Wonder if billion-plus Chinese can handle a rebranding.
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Thursday, 13 August 2009

Destination Hong Kong #2: Cafe de Coral


It looks like there may only be two Destination Hong Kong posts for now. I realized that my time spent in Hong Kong was spent eating at few memorable places, but the chains we frequented were worth mentioning. My dad had been telling me about HK style Chinese fast food for years, and I made sure I got my fill during my trip. Sure, we went to a Fairwood, but the crown of HK fast food is still Cafe de Coral.

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Badly translated as "everybody happy," Cafe de Coral has been a mainstay of Hong Kong for the last forty years. What started as a single restaurant has ballooned to over a hundred franchises within Hong Kong, 24 locations in Mainland China, and eleven other brands totaling more than 500 restaurants. While it might be near impossible to stay in Hong Kong and not see a Cafe de Coral, you might also encounter one of its subsidiaries such as Spaghetti House or Oliver's Super Sandwiches.


Although Hong Kong is now somewhat part of China once again, the local cuisine is much more an amalgam of global influence than purely Cantonese. In part, Victoria Harbor's influx of trade brought influences from Portuguese, Indian, Southeast Asian, and we can't forget the fast food component from America. Therefore, characterize the Cafe de Coral as Western-Chinese, rather than just Cantonese. For the same cost of a regrettable croissanwich and hashbrown at the airport Burger King, I could get a pork chop rice, black bean spare ribs, barbecue plate, or simply a delicious fried rice.



Despite the convenience, price, and general cleanliness of most of the modern stores, Cafe de Coral is still fast food. There is much better Chinese food around town at most local restaurants, but be on the lookout for this famous chain.

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Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Too Bad Hot Isn't a Synonym for Spicy in Chinese: Boiling Point in Monterey Park (沸點臭臭鍋)


It's really a shame that I don't make the trek out to San Gabriel Valley (SGV) for Chinese food more often. I'm constantly complaining about the Chinese offerings on the Westside, but it's hard for me to find opportunities to travel East. In my mind, Chinese is always best enjoyed communally; at a dinner for two, there isn't enough variety. That's why I cherish my trips back to the Bay Area for a chance to see my family and eat Chinese. Additionally, my Chinese is too pathetic to order anything interesting, so I've been reluctant to climb into a restaurant that caters to the ethnic Chinese. In one embarrassing incident, my Mandarin was so terrible that the woman thought I was speaking Cantonese and gave me a chicken leg instead of a pork chop. It took a Korean, Christine, to show me a hot pot restaurant in SGV. Can I get some love from any other American Born Chinese who can't read menus?

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We came on Tuesday for their hot pot lunch special. What was normally $9.99 was discounted a dollar and supplemented with a free drink. While Christine insisted on the available garlic sauce, spicy bean paste, and spicy oil, I was perfectly content with the seasonings that came in the pot.

In fact, I questioned whether it's healthy to ingest something so dark red. Christine would call me a complainer, but her idea of "complaints" are more of what I consider "observations" for my health.

Each person receives a personal pot loaded with ingredients. Pork intestines, tomato, fish cake, napa cabbage, enoki mushrooms, sliced pork, fish balls, floated in the crimson soup. Below those treasures, I excavated blocks of stinky tofu (臭豆腐). This was the first time I encountered stinky tofu hot pot. It's amazing what you miss out on when you don't explore this culinary cornucopia called LA. As the name would imply, stinky tofu is rather robust in fragrance. The smell is fairly strong, but the taste is much more mild. It takes tofu to a whole new level in my opinion, since tofu is normally so bland.

I ordered the spicy pot, and it was just at the level of enjoyable for me. A milder one wouldn't have had enough flavor, but anything hotter would've been unbearable. I believe that pork intestines are best enjoyed in preparations like this--simmering in a spicy broth. Overall, I had a great lunch, but I wonder now if I'll experience any regrets the next day.

Boiling Point (沸點臭臭鍋)
153 Garvey Ave
Monterey Park, 91755
(626) 288-9876
$8.99 lunch special

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Sunday, 26 April 2009

Childhood Memories of Wonton Noodles


I recently went back home to the Bay Area for the weekend. A quick trip true, but I managed to get most of the hometown eats that I crave whenever I return. My mom greeted me with steamed cod my first night in town. The next morning I got dim sum at East Ocean Seafood Restaurant, a mediocre place, but one that I've been going to for as long as I can remember. It's nice to go back to a restaurant where you can identify various points of your life with memories dining there. All Chinese Alamedans know East Ocean.

The day I drove out to Oakland Chinatown and got four banh mi at my favorite Vietnamese sandwich place BC Deli to bring on the plane. But the best food I had while I was back at home was a bowl of wonton and fish ball egg noodles with a side of roast duck and char-siu at Gum Wah Restaurant in Oakland Chinatown.

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During the years I toiled at Saturday Chinese school, I was always bitter about missing the cartoons in the mornings. But after class, my dad would take me to one of two places for lunch--McDonald's or Gum Wah. While our repertoire surely wasn't limited to the two, all my memories are of these places. I always ordered the same thing, the aforementioned bowl of noodles. This last time I went back and had the same thing. Phenomenal. Usually it's the case where something is never as good as you remember it, but this bowl of wonton noodles had all the savory, MSG-laden, deliciousness that I fondly recalled. I'd also recommend the roast duck and char-siu over rice.

It got me to think about the "last meal scenario." Inmates on death row invariably pick something that reminds them of home. Few people really choose a decadent last meal like Francois Mitterrand. Instead, they tend to default to their mom's fried chicken or Thanksgiving mashed potatoes. While I wouldn't choose Gum Wah wonton noodles for my last meal, it would certainly be in the running. Sometimes in this hobby, it's easy to become too focused on what's universally good. The real focus should be on what makes you feel good.

Gum Wah
345 8th Street
Oakland, 94607
(510) 834-3103

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Friday, 22 August 2008

Destination Peru #8: Chifas in Peru

Look familiar?

What about this one?

It's funny how Chinese restaurants look the same wherever you go. The same cheap furniture, tacky posters and paintings, and that ubiquitous bottle of soy sauce on every table. I suppose that you can say the same about any French or Japanese restaurant. But the frugality of Chinese decor will always be apparent. Chinese restaurants have taken a life of their own in Peru. Being such a diverse capital, Chinese have made their two million strong population felt in the Peruvian culinary scene. So much in fact that Chinese restaurants actually have a special name chifa, a transliteration of the Chinese 吃飯 meaning "to eat."


Sopa Wanton


Arroz Chaufa

Chifas are actually so common place in Lima that there's hardly a dining district without chopsticks and red walls. Wonton soup, or sopa wanton, often on the menu of even non-Chinese restaurants. As is arroz chaufa, fried rice. Just as Chinese food is in the States, the chifas in Peru serve a particular brand of cuisine distinct from its roots in the Orient. For one thing, sweet and sour seems to be big. A duck dish I ordered in Puno was peculiarly sliced and stir-fried instead of roasted whole. But given its uniqueness, I still found the food to be decent. The fried rice we had in Lima was particularly delicious. The chifas do have some strange habits such as serving jasmine tea with sugar (ack!).


Pato con ajo (Garlic duck)

We visited Chifa Parque Central in Lima and Chifa Nan Hua 南華 in Puno. Inca Kola has become a staple of chifas, much like the Belfast Apple Cider in Chinese restaurants in America. Still, I'd rather have my Chinese food with tea, but please, hold the sugar.

Friday, 4 July 2008

"Chinese-American Experience" Cookie

Book Review

The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food
Jennifer 8. Lee

On the record, I've never liked fortune cookies. They taste bland, and even as a kid I knew to spend my calories elsewhere. However, I did like to pulverize them, feeling empowered by my ability to Hulk smash something into dust, then pluck out the little slip of white paper. They were amusements while my relatives chatted on for what seemed like hours after meals. Still, they were more a careless diversion than anything else. The Chinese restaurants my family frequented served desserts like red bean soup and tapioca pudding, not fortune cookies. Right off the bat, I knew they were not Chinese.

Jennifer Lee took what I considered a mere curiosity and made it into the basis for a book. This isn't a book on Chinese food though; it is distinctively Chinese-American. From my perspective, as an American-born-Chinese, it spoke to the same immigrant stories that I have heard countless times. Even though the emphasis at times is on Chinese-American food like the exploration of the history of General Tso, cuisine seems to be more of a launching pad than a destination. Lee uses the shared element of food to characterize the Chinese experience coming to America and spreading around the world. In some ways, the Chinese restaurants represent more homogeneity than the fast food nation. After all, according to her, the forty thousand Chinese restaurants in the United States outnumber the McDonald's, Burger Kings and KFCs combined. Yet almost each one of these restaurants serves the staple wonton soup, egg rolls, and some sweet-and-sour mess. Her analogy of Chinese restaurants as open-source software is perceptive and thought-provoking.

While easy to read, the style is overly sensational at times. Her experience as a metro reporter at the New York Times creeps through her prose. The book sometimes lacks overall cohesiveness as the anecdotes and tangents often don't tie well enough back into the main narrative. At times I felt like I was being led down a dead-end, or even better, digesting information one slip of paper at a time. In this sense, it felt less like a book than a collection of articles loosely bound under the theme of the Chinese-American experience. Reading it felt like digesting the pastries that were the inspiration fo the book--slightly sweet, but artificial.

Ultimately, The Fortune Cookie Chronicles is not what I initially expected. I thought it would be more about the food and less about the people; but getting over that expectation, I enjoyed reading about the spread of Chinese-American cuisine. For a book that actually delves into authentic Chinese cusine, I recommend Swallowing Clouds by A. Zee. I do commend Lee on her extraordinary research. While I did not crush this book like I did with my fortune cookies, I did find little slips of wisdom.

Monday, 31 March 2008

New York Food Fest 2007


Hordes of hungry people lined up along the sidewalk against the backdrop of the Brooklyn Bridge. The door swung open with a deliberate forcefulness. A muscular arm shot out from the door beckoning seductively towards the crowd.

Thinking about my two week trip to New York, the one image that stands out most in my mind of New York food is the manager of Grimaldi's waving in more eager customers. I never intended for food to be the main drive of my trip to the Big Apple, but if food was my religion, this would be my pilgrimage.

The various cuisines I encountered gave me a taste of the extreme variety available in a truly cosmopolitan city. The many cuisines I sampled included Italian, Kosher, Chinese, Korean, Thai, American home-style, Turkish, Indian, Cuban, Middle Eastern and Pizza. Yes, pizza is a type of cuisine; at least it should be in New York.

Here I have listed some categories with restaurants worth mentioning. Below, I have wrote a few words on all the restaurants I went to in the city. The reviews are long, so feel free to just refer to these categories for a quick rundown.

Best Value: Gray's Papaya
Most Worth the Wait: Grimaldi's
Most Over Hyped: Veniero's
Most Courses for Your Money: Taj Mahal
Most Impressive Menu: Big Nick's

Italians have long maintained a dedicated presence in the New York food scene and as such, I expected great things from the Italian places I did visit. Mangia e Bevi, translated "food and drink" in English, offered a variety of seemingly authentic Italian cuisine at the border of Hell's Kitchen. My veal saltimbocca topped with a delicious brown sauce and prosciutto did not disappoint. Well, with a pitcher of white sangria, it's hard to disappoint. Alcoholic judgment impairment aside, this was the second time I came to this restaurant and for good reason. I specifically chose this one to return to because of its great atmosphere and food.

Closer to Union Square on the East side of Manhattan, Cafe Centosette is a dark Italian restaurant serving some common Italian dishes. The bruscetta di pomodoro, only four pieces for $7, failed to qualify for that seven dollars. My lobster ravioli with saffron cream sauce definitely was defined by its sauce, a little salty, but good. However, I would have liked the taste of the ravioli itself to stand up without the excessive use of sauce.

Veniero's, the 111 year-old Italian bakery famous for its cannolis and other Italian pastries, failed to impress me. The cheesecake was much better than the cannoli, but that could just be because of my abhorrence to orange peel which tasted like an ingredient in the cannoli. The service was despicable and in itself a reason to avoid this neighborhood classic.

When I mention kosher, I meant specifically the kosher bagel shop I visited in the Lower East Side near Chinatown, Kossar's Bialys. Following a tip from Zagat's, I arrived at the shop surprised by its draconian interior. They really are just a bakery; they even only sold cream cheese separately and not included with the bagel. My onion bagel was soft and moist, but it lacked the critical crispness of a fresh bagel. I supposed that was my mistake for arriving late in the morning, but otherwise it was still delicious. If you do decide to stop by, pick up a dozen or so and a good tub of cream cheese. I recommend the chive cream cheese.

Flushing, the new Chinatown of New York located in Queens has the feel, and unfortunately the smell, of all the other Chinatowns in the world. Except perhaps the Chinatowns in Canada, I hear those are spectacularly clean. In a quick adventure here, I walked in for a quick, cheap bite at a Four Entrees and a Soup restaurant. In true Panda Express fashion, you take a tray, load it with four things, then grab a soup at the end. And, as in true Panda Express fashion, the food was terrible. Enough said.

Apparently, the Korean district of New York consists of only one street, W. 32nd. Coming from LA, home to one of the largest Korean towns outside of Korea, I did not expect much from this miniature Seoul. Woo Ri Jip, a Korean equivalent to Famima with a buffet line, made me reconsider New York's Korean populace. The buffet food was not spectacular, but for the price, you can get a good amount of different foods.

Thai cuisine fits into American taste buds so readily because of its exoticism and overindulgent sweetness. In truth, good Thai food is supposed to be a balance of the five Thai flavors sweet, savory, spicy, sour, and bitter, but I get the feeling that American Thai restaurants weigh heavier towards our sweet tooths. Klong, in St. Mark's Place, with its signature Klong pad thai wrapped in an egg white omelet, satisfied me with its flavor balance. Its calamari appetizer even made a believer out of a previous squid antagonist.

Near NYU, a popular thai brasserie Cafetasia features low prices for decent food. While their basil udon was too soupy and their service lackluster, my biggest complaint would be the lack of air conditioning. It did not please me to wait so long for a table only to be melting as I ate my meal. The beverages did not even arrive until after the appetizers and entrees. Still, for a standard price of $7 for an appetizer and entree combination, it might be worth it to check it out again.

Upon the recommendation of a resident New Yorker, I went to Big Nick's for a half pound burger. Wanting to evaluate the burger on its simplest merits, I ordered the plain American cheeseburger. What I got was more than I expected. The beef is Angus beef that puts McDonald's new Angus burgers to shame. Cooked to order, Big Nick's burgers made you feel good to eat so much cow meat at once.

Serendipity 3, with a name like that, I never would've expected an $80 check for a group of three. I would consider Serendipity to be the Fenton's of New York, for all you Bay natives. The focus is on the dessert, although they are certainly not cheap. Their signature Frrrozen Hot Chocolate, actually a trademarked name, seemed no more special than a chocolate milk slushie with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. The sundae was also nothing spectacular. There is a $1,000 sundae on the menu that is supposedly covered in edible gold leaf, but that was beyond this food critics purview. I will admit though, I did enjoy Serendipity's coleslaw tremendously.

Hearty and Hale Soups is a chain of soup based fast-food restaurants with numerous locations in Manhattan. Their soup menu changes daily with the impressive claim that one could eat there everyday for a month without repeating a soup. My curried chicken chowder had the appeal of a creamy chowder with a spicy twist.

On that note, for a great lobster bisque, the best I have ever had, go to the Lobster Place in the Chelsea Market. It has incredible depth of flavor and aroma. The Lobster Place is a fish market offering many varieties of seafood all looking relatively fresh and delicious.

New World Grill, North of the Theater District, is a small indoor dining area with a large patio. The food was unmemorable, but if pushed, I would say that the grilled shrimp with coconut sauce is bland and unimaginative.

Up until this trip, I had never went to a Turkish restaurant before. Turkuaz, in the Upper West Side, captured my adventurous side. In a decor designed like the inside of a large tent, the waiters dressed in colorful Turkish vests. My lamb dish with Greek yogurt reminded me of so many other Middle Eastern lamb dishes, but left a mark of its own. The bread they served warm was fluffy and worth a trip on its own.

Nestled in a row of Indian restaurants with similar names, Taj Mahal stands out. As generic a name of an Indian restaurant gets, this one makes an impact with its dinner special. For under ten dollars, I got a drink, soup, appetizer, entree, and dessert. Each course was delicious on its own, but together, made for an even more delightful experience.

Havana Central, with several locations throughout the city, was a pricier Cuban restaurant. The ham sandwich I had for lunch there was one of the better ham sandwiches I have had at Cuban places before. Otherwise, this restaurant was not spectacular.

Mamoun, with at least two locations, one near NYU and one in St. Mark's, is cheap falafel. I had a chicken kebob pita there, but it was still under $5. Other than the price, I did not see anything else worth mentioning.

While in New York, I knew I needed to try this famous pizza that true New Yorkers swear no one else can get right. I went to two places, the first, Ray's Pizza did not strike me as anything earth-shattering, but the second, Grimaldi's, redefined pizza for me. Waiting in line in Brooklyn for more than an hour, I thought that Grimaldi's must be overrated. After all, this was the first restaurant I had ever seen awarded an extraordinary Zagat rating. Upon insistence that I try the plain pizza, I ordered one with no toppings. A good pizza dough and great tomato sauce really do make the pizza. But having discovered that, there was no reason why I could not add some sausage and onions to my next pizza that only improved on the original. Grimaldi's is worth the wait, trust me on that.

Of all the places that I went in New York, only one place did I go more than once. Gray's Papaya, a hot dog chain that specialized in specialty tropical drinks, enchanted me. The drinks that I had, the coconut champagne, pineapple juice, and banana daiquiri (all non-alcoholic) were festive and original, but the true charm came in the hot dogs. While not quite as great as Pink's in LA, Gray's hot dogs had a smoky flavor to them that added to the crunch of the sausage. At $3.50 for two hot dogs and a specialty drink, this deal can't be beat.