Kyoto Sushi: Surprises from a last resort

After several hours of drinking at a bar on the Upper East Side, MH was hungry and fiending for a bowl of soup noodles. Unfortunately, aside from a few Chinese takeout joints, a restaurant that would serve us soup noodles was nowhere to be found. Along our hunt we passed by Kyoto Sushi and dismissed it as probably having crappy food, but when we realized the restaurant was our best option the four of us reluctantly doubled back and sat ourselves down to give the place a try.

I won't say the food blew my expectations out of the water, but it was better than I thought. I stuck with the chicken katsu don because it's usually a safe bet, and while what I was served wasn't anything special, it definitely wasn't bad. MH was satisfied with her bowl of udon too. I wouldn't go out of my way to eat a meal there, but if stuck in the area again without any options for Asian food, I'd give Kyoto Sushi another shot.

Malaysian favorites at Laut

For some reason, whenever I'm in NYC I find myself constantly looking for good places to eat near Union Square. Maybe it's because I used to work around the area (well, a little further up, in the Flatiron Building), and so whenever I'm running errands I still go to the same places. Or maybe it's just a natural place for me to be, since it's on the train lines I take most frequently. In any case, I was happy to discover Laut, a nice-looking Malaysian/Thai restaurant just a few blocks off of Union Square.

I was there with MH to take LT out for a very belated birthday dinner, and the three of us split two appetizers, the roti canai (above) a thin, chewy, griddled pancake, and the roti telur (top photo), which was a pancake filled with an egg, scallion, and onion mixture. Both came with a chicken curry dipping sauce. I order one or both of these nearly every time I step foot into a Malaysian restaurant, and these two were pretty decent.

I asked for the nasi lemak on recommendation from my brother, who had passed on the tip that it was excellent. I'm not familiar enough with Malaysian food to say for sure, but this certainly seemed like a great version of the dish—the items around the mound of coconut rice (chili shrimp, chicken curry, little fried anchovies, pickled carrots and cucumbers, and chili onions) were all super flavorful and appetizing. I couldn't decide whether to eat each item bit by bit, or to pair some with others, or to just mix up the whole thing. I think I did a little bit of the first two until I got midway through, whereupon I swirled my spoon through whatever remained and ate the dish all together. Now I can testify that however you feel like eating nasi lemak, the dish will taste good.

Café Español for farewells and well wishes

I've mentioned that TC was leaving for Ghana, and a few days before she flew out a bunch of friends and family got together to send her off in style. We started the evening at Café Español, a Spanish restaurant on Bleeker Street that managed to have a seating area big enough for the twelve of us.

I skipped over the lobster special in favor of the shrimp and rice entree, not knowing how enormous the portion size would be. For a meal preceding what promised to be a full night of drinking, a huge vat of rice, shrimp, and sausage was probably not the way to go.

The dish was really good, though, with plump grains of saffron-hued rice that had really soaked up the flavors of the tender shrimp and sausage. I didn't care for the peas, but then again, I never do when it comes to rice dishes (fried rice, etc.). I was glad when other people started helping me finish it, but I was a little sad, too, that I couldn't have it all for myself.

By the time the night ended we had spent nearly twelve hours eating, dancing, drinking, playing beer pong, singing karaoke, and eating again in a diner which I can no longer remember. The sky was lightening by the time I made it home. I hadn't had a night like that in years, but what better way to send off a friend than a truly epic night of partying and feasting?

Spring Break Shenanigans, Part 5: Farmer's Table, Han Kang Korean Restaurant

Catch up! Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4

The morning TL was due to fly back to NYC, we sat down to breakfast at Farmer's Table, whereupon he casually mentioned that if we left early enough, we could eat another meal of Korean food in Aurora. My kind of thinking! TL's flight wasn't until 4:30 pm, so even though it meant we'd be eating breakfast and then eating lunch only an hour or two later, that's exactly what we ended up doing.

But first, there was breakfast. Along with a fried egg and a sausage patty, I ordered the pancake of the month—whole grain with toasted almonds, and served with almond butter—but it turned out I wasn't fond of the crunchy almond slices on the bottom (I guess I like my pancakes to be soft and fluffy through and through). And though I usually never put syrup on my pancakes, I ended up pouring and pouring from the little carafe on the table, not because I really liked the syrup, but because no matter how much I poured the pancakes didn't seem to taste any sweeter. It was definitely a strange experience.

I ended up eating only half the pancake anyway. Had to save room for Korean food, after all.

I took a bite of TL's "Farmer's Benedict," though, which was pretty good. The bacon was thick and crisp, and I really liked the hash browns too.

After running a few last-minute errands, it was off to Aurora. As it turns out, Aurora is a bit farther from Fort Collins than we knew, so we ended up with less time to eat than we anticipated. No matter—we walked into Han Kang Korean Restaurant, a few doors down from Seoul BBQ, looked quickly at the menu, and ordered. And because we had mentioned to the waitress that we were in a hurry, the panchan came out in just a few minutes.

By the way, though Han Kang and Seoul BBQ are practically neighbors, they couldn't have been more different in atmosphere. Han Kang is a small, home-grown joint with worn furniture and a television tuned to a Korean channel in the corner; Seoul BBQ is large, sleek, and modern-looking, as I mentioned. It's a total switch in vibe.

I went for the spicy seafood bibimbap, which came out in a hot stone bowl that gave the rice a crispy crust on the bottom, and was chock full of squid as well as diced onion and zucchini. This is my kind of comfort food.

TL got another order of bulgogi, which was less heavily sauced than the version at Seoul BBQ, and seemed pretty happy with it. Because the food came out so quickly, too, we managed to finish our meal within a half hour, and the waitress was prompt with picking up the check and giving us our change.

We got to the airport without any trouble, and then it was time for me to brave the road alone again, for the drive back to Fort Collins. Spring break was officially over.

Spring Break Shenanigans
Part 1: Braving the Road for Seoul BBQ
Part 2: Pikes Peak donuts, Phantom Canyon Brewing Company
Part 3: Rodizio Grill, Suehiro
Part 4: Dim sum at Star Kitchen, Red Robin redux
Part 5: Farmer's Table, Han Kang Korean Restaurant

China House: Takeout for the tired

Two meals, one person. That's what happens when you come back from a ski weekend in Vail, loll about on your couch feeling too wiped out to even think about preparing food, attempt to get Chinese food delivered to your apartment, and realize there is a minimum order requirement. And the two orders of dumplings are what you add on when you also see a coupon for three dollars off orders of twenty bucks or more.

Leftovers. You can always eat the rest the next day, and the next day after that.
Plus the next day after that one, until you want to die.

The above spread was from China House, a place I knew only because a menu had once been slipped under my door. Of all the other menus that had appeared at my apartment, China House's semi-utilitarian design most closely matched what I associate with "junky Chinese takeout": red and black text, a clip-art pagoda on the front, lunch and dinner specials on the back. Exactly what I wanted.

I went for the classics: beef and broccoli and General Tso's chicken. Both were dinner specials, which means they each came with pork fried rice, an egg roll, and soup. I chose hot and sour for both.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that junky Chinese food is approximately the same across the nation, but it was. Maybe there's one giant kitchen in the middle of America; the food was no better and no worse than what I was used to getting in NYC. Jennifer 8. Lee can say a few things about that.

I had originally ordered "Chinese Donut" (whatever that is) and steamed dumplings, but after they ran my credit card they realized there were no more donuts to be had. They called me back offering cream cheese wontons, but I opted for "Dumpling Szechuan Style." As you can see, "Szechuan style" means dousing the same steamed pork dumplings in a sweet, viscous sauce—about the same sauce as the one coating the nuggets of chicken in my order of General Tso's. My two orders of dumplings also came with two large tubs of dipping sauce. Just how much sauce do dumplings need?

Altogether, this order stretched into about eight different meals: Szechuan-style dumplings for one meal, soup and steamed dumplings for another, General Tso's for three meals, and beef and broccoli for three meals. Plus those two egg rolls. Not bad, but I really don't recommend eating takeout Chinese food for that many days in a row—unless you want to feel perfectly disgusting for a long, long time.

From memory, a Filipino breakfast

My college ex-boyfriend was the one to introduce me to all things Filipino, and that included Filipino-style breakfasting. When he'd come to visit me or I'd come to visit him, he'd take a few cups of leftover white rice, plenty of chopped garlic, and some salt and stir up a pan full of garlic fried rice to be eaten alongside runny fried eggs and sweet, vinegary longanisa sausage. Ketchup and/or hot sauce were optional but welcome. And we ate, of course, with a fork and spoon.

It had been many years since I last ate a Filipino breakfast, but since I had a package of chicken longanisa in the freezer, I decided it was as good a time as any. Using my ex's old method I chopped up a head of garlic, sauteed it with oil and salt in a pan until the pieces became golden, and then added in two cups of cold white rice, breaking up any clumps with my spatula until each grain was hot and coated in the savory oil. In another pan I fried up the longanisa and the eggs, and I took out the ketchup and hot sauce from the refrigerator. Fifteen minutes later, I had a steaming plate of garlic fried rice, fried eggs, and fried sausage in front of me, and the way it filled my belly was just as good as I remembered.

Dim sum dishes at home

In January, when I was home in NYC for winter break, my parents went over some of the dishes they wanted to cook while I was home: beef noodle soup, turnip and taro cake, and sticky rice. Unfortunately, I was running around so much that I was rarely home while they were. So it wasn't until near the end of vacation, after I got back from Montreal, that I was able to be home while my parents were cooking.

It was worth the wait. My mom's turnip cake is studded with bits of Chinese sausage, pork, dried shrimp, and shallots and full of turnip flavor. The taro version is tender but chunkier than the turnip one, and both share the same rustic quality that one day I'm determined to replicate. We pan-fried slices of both cakes with a minimum of oil, so they didn't get as crisp on the outside as I might have liked, but the decrease in fat and calories is worth the trade, I think.

The sticky rice, too, was delicious; each grain was perfectly chewy and imbued with flavor. If this kind of grain wasn't so difficult to digest, I would have have more than just a bowlful. I'll have to learn how to make this dish here in Colorado, once I get my hands on some sweet rice.

A meal in Spain at La Nacional

The last time I went to La Nacional, hidden in the basement of the Spanish Benevolent Society, it was several years ago with a group of eight or so friends for a Secret Santa exchange dinner. After making our way through plate after plate of different tapas, washing it all down with pitchers of red and white sangria, we decided to put in an order for the house paella. When the server asked "How many are eating?" we said eight, thinking he was inquiring how many new plates to bring out, and not knowing we had just asked for eight full orders. What came to the table at the end of the meal was a giant pan of paella nearly three feet across, costing a pretty penny. We barely made a dent…luckily paella still tastes pretty good as leftovers.

There again a few weeks ago for dinner, RO and I were smarter. I wasn't that hungry since I had had a late lunch, so we decided to simply go with three tapas plus one paella to share.

The sauteed mushrooms were meaty and flavorful, but the pincho moruno—on the menu as "Spanish kebab"—was uninteresting and a little dry. A lot like your average chicken street meat kebab, both in presentation and taste.

However the croquetas were terrific, beautifully crisp and greaseless on the outside and filled with a creamy potato and fish mixture. I almost wanted to ask for another order, but we had our final dish coming…

The fideua, a noodle-based paella paired with fish and seafood. Despite some tougher pieces of shellfish scattered on top, I liked this dish a lot, especially the crispy bits of noodles stuck to the bottom and sides of the pan. It was a little oily so I couldn't eat too much of it, but what I had was packed with flavor and quite delicious.

La Nacional is one of those great, sort-of hidden gems of New York City, but there has been some talk recently about the place being in danger of closing, which would be a sad day if that really does happen. I haven't always liked everything I've ordered there, but I've always left the place feeling like I've been in another country for a little while. And everyone knows it's nice to have a place to get away.

A visitor in town, part 3: Earl's, Sri Thai, Rio Grande

Catch up! Day 1 and Day 2

I was determined to take advantage of having a car around, so early the next morning TL and I drove to Denver, about an hour away. It felt really good to be in a city again, but with lots of people comes lots of cars, and the parking situation around the 16th Street Pedestrian Mall left something to be desired. Finally, after I managed to snag a roll of quarters so we could park at a meter, we were on our way to explore the city.

First things first. We needed food! TL had spotted an Earl's while we were looking for parking, and he'd explained that it was a chain with locations all over Western Canada. Since it was right nearby and I didn't have any other place in mind, we stepped in to have lunch.

The place has a dark, lounge-y feel, with dim lighting, leather-clad seating, and sleek-looking waitstaff. When I couldn't decide whether or not to also order a bowl of soup with my sandwich order, thinking it might be too much food, I was pleased to discover that soup could be swapped in for the sandwich's fries or salad at no extra cost.

Both of us asked for the clam chowder…which was unremarkable. There was barely any hint of clam or clam flavor, and the large pieces of cooked carrots and other vegetables seemed out of place. It came with an okay piece of bread, billed as "Rosemary-Oregano Pan Bread," but which seemed sort of flabby. In short, this course tasted like chain food.

Much better was the Cajun chicken sandwich I ordered, which featured chicken breast so moist that juices dripped onto the plate when I bit into it. The spicing didn't taste at all Cajun and the cheddar didn't taste aged, but it was still a decent and filling sandwich. I wouldn't go out of my way for an Earl's, but at least some of their food seems a cut above other chain offerings—just don't get the clam chowder.

That line down the middle of the sandwich is from where I pulled out the toothpick skewer, by the way.

In truth, what we saw of Denver was a bit of a disappointment. There just didn't seem to be that much personality to the city, and the much-touted pedestrian mall was like any other cluster of national chain clothing shops and restaurants. Its saving grace was one of the coolest bookstores around, the Tattered Cover, located a few blocks off the far end. With comfy armchairs and reading nooks scattered throughout its three levels, a sizable coffee counter, and as large a selection as any big retailer but the charm and coziness of a small independent, this place covered all my criteria for how a great bookstore should be. The Tattered Cover regularly holds interesting literary and community events, too.

Back in Fort Collins, after a nap at home, TL and I got some Thai food before meeting up with people for drinks. I wanted to go to Sri Thai, because I had heard good things about the place from friends, but my first impressions didn't bode well for the meal. Aside from it being sort of a cavernous space with worn, outdated decor and dingy lighting, the place didn't have chopsticks! Come on, I know this is Fort Collins, but maaaaan, you're really going to make me eat noodles with a fork?

I kid, it wasn't that big a deal, just surprising. The real problem was the food. Our appetizer of tod mun gai turned out to be eight nuggets of spongy material masquerading as chicken; the flavoring tasted like fish and the texture was downright weird. The dipping sauce was nice, but I feel no need to ever order that dish again.

The other dishes we got were better, but still not great. The basil fried rice lacked any of the title herb's flavor, a pretty big omission in my book. Like bad Chinese takeout, this dish was heavily sauced and very salty, and for me it quickly grew sickening.

The pad thai, on the other hand, wasn't bad. At worst, it was like much of the generic pad thai found all over Manhattan, and at best, it was better than any other pad thai I've had in Fort Collins so far. This isn't to say it was excellent—just decent and passable.

What saved the meal for me was our dessert, a dish of sweet rice with Thai custard and coconut milk. The textures and flavors of the dish were in perfect balance, and I enjoyed the sweet, eggy custard paired with the smooth coconut cream and slightly salty rice.

At the Rio Grande, where we met up with several friends for drinks, we made it a double-dessert night by ordering sopapillas, inspired by the sight of them being delivered to a neighboring table. The three large cinnamon-dusted discs came with our choice of honey or agave nectar for dipping, and I couldn't stop tearing off pieces to stick in my mouth. Fried dough: it's just never wrong.

A Visitor in Town
Day 1: Thanksgiving, away from home
Day 2: Silver Grill Cafe, Red Robin
Day 3: Earl's, Sri Thai, Rio Grande
Day 4: Cafe Bluebird, Celestial Seasonings tour, Sherpa's
Day 5: Nyala Ethiopian Cuisine, Austin's American Grill

Advocating avocado maki

I don't usually have so many avocados around, but they were selling for fifty cents apiece at Sunflower Farmer's Market (my favorite grocery store here, and a decent stand-in for Trader Joe's), so I couldn't resist buying a few. One went into tuna-avocado salad, but a person can only eat so much tuna. I was trying to figure out how I wanted to consume the other one when I realized I had nori in the pantry and some cooked rice in the fridge. Decision made: avocado maki.

I made just two small rolls. First, I cut a full sheet of nori in two. To make sushi rice, I added rice vinegar and a bit of sugar to about five ounces of heated short-grain rice, mixing until it cooled again. Then I sliced one half of a Hass avocado into thick wedges. That's pretty much all the preparation I did for the ingredients.

To make a roll, I spread half the sushi rice over the half-sheet of nori, lay out avocado in a strip across it, and used my fingers to press it all into a tube. I didn't have a rolling mat so they came out a little loose, but hey, no one was eating it but me. That's one of the great benefits of cooking and eating alone, you know—if you mess it up, no one has to know.

Except when I post my messes across the internet.

So they weren't the prettiest of specimens, but they tasted good. Let's just call them "rustic," hmmm?

I ate the other half of the avocado the next day, paired with swiss cheese and Branston Pickle on crusty (okay, slightly burnt) homemade bread. It was delicious, man!

Curry me up

Japanese curry, which I made with chicken breast and diced carrot, potato, and onion, and served over a combination of brown and white jasmine rice. I know it's better to make the curry base from scratch, as those spice blocks are full of palm oil and who knows what else, but having a box of the stuff in the pantry makes cooking up a potful of curry on the spot so much easier (I picked up the packets at Mitsuwa before I left NYC). Using the blocks makes me an "irresponsible cook" according to Hiroko Shimbo in this article, but also a much happier one.

I could have tried to top the curry with pork katsu, but I chose the healthful option and went with a spoonful of watermelon pickle (which was not a fail this time) instead. I was thinking of fukujinzuke, the sweet radish pickles that sometimes accompany curry when the dish is served in restaurants; this was definitely not the same, but strangely enough, the combination still worked.

Perfect Team Corporation: Winsome dim sum

Don't ask me how they did it. At the 18th Annual Hong Kong Dragon Boat Festival held at Flushing Meadows Corona Park, friends RL and IJD each gulped down twenty-five and fifteen dumplings (respectively) in a two-minute dumpling-eating contest. Up against the formidable Floria Lee, who ate forty-three dumplings the previous year and thirty-eight this year, neither of them stood to win first place, but what my friends could do once the contest ended was…eat more dumplings.

Yes, somehow the idea of having dim sum in Flushing afterward didn't make them automatically throw up. And with a name like Perfect Team Corporation Restaurant, what better place to have a post-contest meal? Maybe RL and IJD could each eat enough dumplings there to make it to thirty-eight. Or thirty-nine, for the win.


As soon as we sat, the rest of us—who hadn't been swilling dumplings down our throats—began the mad process of securing food for the table. It was still pretty busy considering it was around two, and the carts clattered by, fragrant clouds billowing out every time a steamer lid was lifted. I love you, dim sum.

The crystal shrimp dumplings, meat-filled fried mochi, and meat-filled fried taro balls were all excellent. The Chinese broccoli, though good, didn't stand a chance against these delicious morsels. It was only there to give us some peace of mind. You know: "Oh yes, this isn't really so unhealthy."

Equally excellent were the meatballs, leaf-wrapped rice packets, and the cha shao–stuffed pastries. That last one might have been my favorite of the whole meal…or no, maybe it was the fried taro balls. Or maybe the shrimp dumplings. Oh hell.

No dim sum meal is complete without an order of shrimp rice noodle rolls. The beef rice noodle rolls were good, too.


Everything was awesome, but by this point, we were getting most of the same carts over and over again. Maybe this place is all about quality over quantity, but I really wanted a bit more selection. It's dim sum, maaaan! We ended up ordering only a few new items and getting repeats of some of the others. Above, the spare ribs with pumpkin and the shrimp-stuffed peppers were nice, but the turnip cake didn't have enough turnip and the lotus-leaf rice packet wasn't nearly as fragrant as the small packets of leaf-wrapped rice we got in the beginning. Sadness.

But we were winding down anyway. And RL and IJD were finally feeling the weight of the dumplings in their stomachs and had stopped eating altogether. I don't know if they caught up to Floria by the meal's end, but one thing's for sure, even when you (don't) win some, you dim sum!