Why is Chinese food in San Francisco so disappointing? Also, thank you, Xi'an Famous Foods

This $4 plate of liang pi noodles ("cold skin noodles") single-handedly made up for all the bad Chinese food I have eaten in the past eight months.

First, a tangent. I spent eight months living and working in San Francisco. Apologies in advance to those in the Bay Area, but really, it seemed impossible to find great Chinese food there. Decent? Yes. Good? Occasionally. Downright atrocious? Far too common.

With such a big Chinese population, San Francisco should theoretically have Chinese food to rival Vancouver and New York. But what I found was mostly watered-down cooking, and too many restaurants advertising themselves as Chinese-Thai-Vietnamese-Sushi (what's up with that?) And yes, I also visited the purely Chinese restaurants, and quite popular ones at that.

BlogDiana KuanMay 14, 2010Flushing, Manhattan, Queens, Restaurants, San Francisco Comments

Moo Goo Gai Panini

Hankering for a sandwich while in the East Village last week, I stopped at Marco Polo Café out of sheer curiosity. The tiny shop on St. Mark's bills itself as "Asian-Italian New Cuisine." The menu, on the other hand, reveals its Asian influence to be entirely Chinese. So, in the spirit of this blog, what the heck.

The restaurant is the product of a Sicilian-American and mainland Chinese husband-and-wife team. So, naturally, you can order dumplings and buns, or pasta, like bison meatballs over penne. (Unlike another Italian-Chinese partnership I wrote about last year, whose menu was completely Western.) But...what's so interesting about a seemingly schizophrenic food selection?

Well, the restaurant does try to fuse flavors on a few of the items. I decided to forgo the Dumplavoli, which, while having a catchy name, is merely a plate of five raviolis and six dumplings.

BlogDiana KuanMay 10, 2010Manhattan, Restaurants Comments

Sichuan Wild Mushroom Sauté with New Zealand Spinach

One of the things I missed the most while traveling was having a standard stock of kitchenware. When you're bopping around from city to city, and readjusting to a new kitchen every few months, you're not going to have all necessary tools at your disposal. Especially the super heavy items, like a mortar and pestle. I went almost three years without one. If you cook for a living, that should be a crime.

I used a mortar and pestle whenever I could, like while working at The Hutong in Beijing, but for most of the last peripapetic 3 years I mostly made do with ground spices. I just couldn't justify moving around 10-pound stone objects to every kitchen I used. (Nevermind that I had at least 5 times the weight in cookbooks.) But now, ever since moving home, I've been crushing spices like a fanatic.

For anyone who craves the numbingness of Sichuan peppercorn, the whole spice will always be more satisfying than the pre-ground variety. If you have to use "crack" to describe any food item, use it for Sichuan peppercorn, instead of Momofuku desserts. So, when faced with a mountain of shimeji, king trumpet, and large shiitake mushrooms (went a little overboard at Whole Foods), I decided to sort of recreate a wild mushroom stir-fry from a trip last year to Chengdu.

BlogDiana KuanMay 5, 2010Chinese, Healthy, Mushrooms, Recipes, Sichuan, Vegetarian Comments

Yun Nan Flavour Snack - The only Yunnan Spot in New York?

The last time I ate Yunnan food was over two years ago, back in Beijing. It is not for lack of trying.

In the US, Cantonese, Sichuan, and Hunan food are ubiquitous. Northern Chinese, Shanghainese Xinjiang, and Fujianese are making headways into cities. But as far as Yunnan restaurants are concerned, the LA area can claim four. In all of New York's five boroughs, there is just one.

For anyone new to Yunnan cuisine, the southwestern Chinese province is most well-known for their Cross-the-Bridge noodles. It consists of bowl of boiling broth that arrives at your table with about seven or eight raw ingredients (including eggs, chicken, fish skin, sprouts, etc), which the waiters will then theatrically dump into your broth as quickly as possible so everything cooks table-side. The round rice noodles themselves also cook with the other raw ingredients, and the flavors come together brilliantly if the broth is hot enough. (If the broth is merely lukewarm, that is another, more unpleasant, story.)

Yun Nan Flavour Snack out in Sunset Park does not serve Cross-the-Bridge noodles. Rather, it serves very basic but comforting bowls of beef tripe, ground pork, and fried pork noodles, using the same silky rice noodles that are a tad more plump than spaghetti. Everything is cooked to order.

BlogDiana KuanApril 19, 2010Brooklyn, Restaurants Comments

Ugly Shiitakes

Have you ever seen these? They're "ugly shiitakes", which I found at the UN Plaza farmers market in San Francisco.

"They're actually pretty cute," I told the grungy musician-type manning the booth.

"Eh, yeah, people seem to like them better than the regular ones." He shrugged.

As if on cue, three different people came up behind me, each grabbing a carton of the uglies, and paid for them. They were the regulars with a purpose, it seemed. So I bought some too.

Back home, I had a mushroom epiphany. No, not that kind of mushroom epiphany. Rather, it was the realization that an ingredient that has been a staple in the foods I grew up with, that is so entrenched in Chinese cooking, can be improved upon. These uglies are about half the size of a regular Asian shiitake mushroom. They are twice as soft. There is no thick woody stem that you need to discard. You plop a bunch onto your chutting board and chop away.

BlogDiana KuanMarch 1, 2010San Francisco Comments

Chinese New Year Foods - Top 10 Picks

Also check out this radio segment from the Feb. 17th episode of The Takeaway (produced by WNYC, Public Radio International, and BBC World Service). I chatted with actor B.D. Wong about Chinese New Year foods and some picks from my list of 100 Chinese Foods to Try.

I just realized it has been a looong time since I did a recipe round-up on this site. Two and a half years, in fact. It's usually much more fun (for me and the reader) to have new content, but it seems fitting after this much time to gather up some of my favorite foods for Chinese New Year in this post.

1.Chinese tea eggs- Everyone should make these. They are one step harder than boiling an egg, taking only 5 minutes of hands-on time (not including boiling time). That marbly experior will impress all your guests who did not grow up eating tea eggs. If you want to get fancy, top them with caviar.

2. Water chestnut cake - The Chinese eat all sorts of "cakes" for the new year because they symbolize growing very tall. Eating them never worked for me. But the idea is still nice.

BlogDiana KuanFebruary 16, 2010Recipes Comments

Food Journeys of a Lifetime, National Geographic

For writers, there's no better feeling than seeing one's own name in glossy print. I know, we're a vain bunch. But it's a justifiable reward for hours spent hunched over at the desk, racking your brain endlessly for the perfect turn of phrase. Getting carpal tunnel and increased myopia. Missing out on fresh air, merry water cooler gossip, and a 401(k).

But I'm digressing. What I really want to tell you about is a book I contributed to last year called Food Journeys of a Lifetime: 500 Extraordinary Places to Eat Around the Globe, published by National Geographic. It came out last fall, without a lot of fanfare, but still managed to climb to #159 on the Amazon Best Sellers list before Christmas. A big pretty coffee table book, it's full of hunger-inducing pages on suckling pig in Segovia, street food in Singapore, dim sum in Hong Kong, feijoada in Rio, and 496 other journeys both abroad and stateside.

BlogDiana KuanFebruary 3, 2010 Comments

Turk's Turban Pumpkins

These pumpkins are so oddly beautiful I just had to share. My friend Christa picked them up at Farmer John's pumpkin patch in Half Moon Bay, about 30 to 40 minutes from San Francisco. Having never seen them before, I spent the longest time trying to figure out how they developed to look like two different species squashed into one, with a warty belt around the middle.

These pumpkins have a handful of colorful names, including Turk's Turban, Turk's Squash, Scotchman's Purse, Ladies' Eardrops, and (for the smaller ones) Aladdin's Turban. Apparently, because the sun hits the top more directly, the pumpkins develop top heavy, like an upside-down hat.

Oh, and they don't taste very good, so it's best to just display them around the house, maybe near the punch bowl at your Halloween party.

BlogDiana KuanOctober 14, 2009San Francisco Comments

Homemade Horchata

When I was living in China, the kitchen was never without rice. Long grain, short grain, jasmine, or brown, a sack or bulk bin bag would slouch in the corner, just waiting to be cooked. I would steam it, fry it, or boil it to a pulp for congee. And one day, out of severe homesickness, I decided to make horchata.

A Chinese friend was over and watched me pull a plastic carton from the fridge, which I had filled the day before with pulvertized rice grains and water to soak overnight.

"What is that?" she asked. I explained that Mexicans make a really nice icy drink out of rice water.

"But that's just like the leftover water from washing rice," she said."We dump that stuff down the drain."

"Um, true," I paused. "But when you add tons of sugar and vanilla and cinnamon, it's a great drink to go with your tacos."

"I'll stick with margaritas."

BlogDiana KuanOctober 11, 2009Drinks, Mexican, Recipes Comments

Gourmet 1941-2009 - "Elitist", Intelligent, Loved

This week the food world had its own Black Monday. To reduce costs, Condé Nast has decided to shut down Gourmet. I mourned on Twitter, along with a thousand other food writers and bloggers. It felt cathartic to be reassured that there were many others who will miss seeing the magazines in their mailboxes every month.

But then the insults started flying. Among the many criticisms the magazine received was that it was "elitist", "irrelevant", and that its "recipes took too long." In the most scathing piece published this morning, The Boston Globe called it a "symbol of bygone vision of gourmet life in America - and as sign that even upmarket niches can be too confining."(Disclosure: I used to write for the Globe, and still read it, and contributed a piece in Aug ust to Gourmet.)

It seems that most of these critics stopped reading Gourmet in the 1980s. Or they ignored the 90% of magazine that doesn't have to do France or fine dinnerware. What's so "elitist" about street food in Thailand or a mom-and-pop Chinese barbecue stand? Or a first-person account, not just some fluffy service piece, about living frugally? Or for that matter, in-depth coverage of sustainable food issues? If elitism is defined by reaching beyond the scope of soccer moms and trend-seekers or calling olive oil by its rightful name, then I must be elitist too.

BlogDiana KuanOctober 8, 2009 Comments

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Cowboy Supper - California's Native BBQ

With all due respect to Memphis and Kansas City, Californians know the nation's best barbecue may be in their own backyard. I've spent enough time in the Central Coast to know that no occasion is too small for Santa Maria-style barbecue. Fundraisers, Quinceañeras, and Saturdays are all reasons to fire up the 50-gallon oil drum grill and slow cook enough beef for the whole town. For my Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24 event this month, I attended to a local fundraiser for spare ribs cooked on a giant grill, then at night, made my own tri-tip feast.

So what exactly is Santa Maria-style barbecue? Well, legend has it that California's barbecue culture dates back to the early 19th century, when vaqueros ended hard days of cattle branding with feasts of fresh steer, bread, and beans. And they were economical too, these cowboys. When they couldn't bear to toss the triangular ends of their sirloins, they made the tri-tip a regional Cal-Mex speciality.

These days, on any weekend, parks and parking lots from Santa Maria up north to Salinas are filled with heavenly, protein-enriched smoke. These grills are at least at least 4 feet long, with wheel cranks to lower and raise the giant meat loads. A grill's size is measured by the number of sirloin steaks you can fit on each. There are "40's", "80's", even "100's". Traditionally the de facto fuel was California red oak, but now most other woods can be used. Sirloin steaks and tri-tips are the most popular cuts to toss on the grill, but you can also cook ribs and whole chicken this way.

BlogDiana KuanSeptember 27, 2009Beef, Recipes Comments

Noodle Tour of Vietnam

No wonder travelers to Vietnam fall in love with Hoi An. It is close to beaches, a gazillion times less chaotic than Saigon and Hanoi, and home to amazing, amazing food. In a previous post, I professed my love to banh mi op la, the best breakfast in Southeast Asia. Here, I'll elaborate on some noodles whose photos I still drool over.

While riding a motorbike to the beach, we stopped at a roadside noodle stand for lunch. I was so famished and ready to pounce at a table that my left leg brushed against the muffler of the motorbike. The iron-hot muffler. The scorching pain was momentary, but my leg now had a burn mark the size of a big toe. The restaurant ower sat me down, then zoomed away and back, super hero-style, with a tube of ointment. At least, I thought it was ointment. The next minute, my leg was tingling and covered with what really was minty toothpaste. In the middle of nowhere, any moisturizing gel or was better than no ointment at all.

BlogDiana KuanSeptember 14, 2009Vietnam Comments

Soba Noodle Candy

BlogDiana KuanAugust 24, 2009Japan Comments

Banh Mi Op La!

I have found my new breakfast obsession, and sadly, it exists only in Vietnam. Attempts to replicate it in home kitchens would fail miserably. Recently in Hoi An, Vietnam, I met up with a former culinary school instructor from New York who was working at a non-profit restaurant. Each morning we stepped out of the air-conditioned bliss of the hotel into a wave of heat, traffic noise, and repeated solicitations for “Taxi? Taxi? Motorcycle?” But the possibility of a great street food find was too enticing to pass up.

One morning we stopped by a particularly busy stall with the words “Banh Mi Op La” on the sign. Seconds later, a blaze sprang up on the stove. A cook in a snazzy fisherman’s hat gave the pan a few swivels and tossed in some salt. He repeated to the tune of 3 finished plates a minute.

My Op La arrived, a beautiful mess of runny eggs, sausage bits, onions, and tomatoes still sizzling on a thin metal plate. The baguette came on another plate, with extra slices of cucumber and enough onions to warrant a second tooth-brushing. You use the bread to sponge up the eggs and tomato, spoon some onions and meat bits on top, bite, and wait for bliss. Banh mi op la was pure comfort food heaven, not least because it seemed so similar to huevos rancheros.

BlogDiana KuanAugust 17, 2009Vietnam Comments

Vegetarian Food Gone Wrong

BlogDiana KuanJuly 28, 2009Beijing, Restaurants Comments