Cheng Du Heaven (成都天府)

Things are always changing in Flushing. Many of these changes are unwelcome ones, like the demise of Maple Snacks, the disappearance of Szechuan Dish, and the recent mediocre meal at Lao Dong Bei, ascribable to a different chef (one hopes this change is not a permanent one). But lately, I noticed that Cheng Du Heaven (成都天府 - chéng dū tiān fǔ), in the basement of the Golden Shopping Mall, has been, little by little, expanding its offerings – and seating area – while keeping quality high and prices low. And that it was high time it got its own blog entry here.

I remember the days when their menu was a single column of dishes listed on the wall by the counter. Now the menu boasts more than 50 dishes, with an additional 15 or 20 meal-sized soups, of both the má là tāng (麻辣湯 – the typical Sichuan spicy/tingly stews) and noodle soup varieties.

The "Wonton w/Chilli Oil Sauce" (紅油抄手 - hóng yóu chāo shǒu) appetizer is superb: practically perfect wontons in a beautifully balanced spicy sesame sauce.

While their Dan Dan Noodle (擔擔 面 – dàn dàn miàn) does not erase nostalgia for Sister Zhu's, it is one of the very best around. Another well-balanced spicy sauce lurks below those tender noodles. And the dusting of crispy-yet-tender minced pork is the perfect complement.

Their version of Ma La Beef Tendon (麻辣牛筋 – má là niú jīn) is as good as any around Flushing, too.

The Ma Po Tofu (麻婆豆腐 – má pó dòu fǔ) here is the best I've tasted in years. The tofu is soft, but not too soft, and the sauce is the perfect balance of spicy and salty, with just the right pungent accent from fermented black beans.

The only near-miss so far has been "Chicken with Family Sauce" (mmm... family sauce… my favorite!). A better translation of 家常熱窩鶏 (jiā cháng rè wō jī) would be “chicken home style”, and it was nice, but not all that interesting. Small bone-in chunks of chicken are lightly simmered in a mildly spicy sauce with two or three kinds of peppers and scallion.

Interestingly, the leftover portion when heated up at home the next day was better than on the first day. The flavors were both better melded together and more pronounced. My friend Audrey tells me that the characters 熱窩 mean, essentially, "warm, but not too hot", making the preparation true to its name. I would just prefer the dish to have finished cooking, I suppose!

On the other hand, their dry-sautéed chicken (干煸鶏 - gān biān jī) is the tastiest version of this dish I have ever tasted, with lots of intense spicy and salty flavor. It's listed on the wall, rather amusingly, as "chicken with dire chillis".

Their Spicy Twice Cooked Pork (回锅肉 – huí guō ròu) is stellar – as good as any I've tried, with a real homemade quality to it.

Don't miss the array of appetizer dishes and snacks in the glass counter-case. The Ma La chicken wings are marvelous to keep around the house to snack on. And their Ma La Sausage (麻辣香 腸 – má là xiāng cháng) really is almost as good as Sister Zhu's from Maple Snacks:

And it's difficult to stop eating slices of their house-cured pork belly (成都臘肉 - chéng dū là ròu):

Cheng Du Heaven serves, for my money, the best Sichuan food in Flushing at the moment (Little Pepper is in College Point). Because of the very spartan dining environs, one might wish that some of the dishes were a buck or two cheaper, but it's still a great value.

Cheng Du Heaven (成都天府)
Golden Shopping Mall basement food court
41-28 Main St., Flushing 11355
(7 train to Flushing-Main St., then 3 blocks south on Main)

Shanghai Café (上海喬家柵)

I had been curious to try Shanghai Café (上海喬家柵 - shàng hǎi qiáo jiā shān), in Manhattan's Chinatown, for quite some time now because of one dish I had read about on Lau's excellent blog.

I'm delighted to able to say the dish did not disappoint. "Stewed Pork and Tofu Skin in Brown Sauce" (百葉結烤肉 - bǎi yè jiē kǎo ròu) is, essentially knots of tofu skin added to braised pork belly. It's braised hóng shāo (紅燒) style - that is, in soy sauce, rice wine, sugar, ginger, and star anise. The result is rich and complex, and the tofu skin knots are the perfect foil for the tender chunks of delightfully fatty pork. I've had similar dishes in a couple of other Shanghai-style joints, and Shanghai Café's is by far the best. It's worth the trip here just for this dish, I think. (Photos courtesy of Jose - his turned out WAY better than mine did. Terrible lighting.)

The xiǎo lóng bāo (小龍包 - soup dumplings) here, as Lau rightly observes, are not particularly distinguished. If you must have them, do yourself a favor and just go out to Flushing and get some at Kung Fu Xiao Long Bao.

The "Braised Whole Fish with Ginger and Scallion" (蔥烤鰂魚 - cōng kǎo zéi yú), however, is distinguished. A whole tilapia is braised in a relatively rich - for fish - brown sauce (in fact, it's a lighter first cousin to the hóng shāo sauce of the previously mentioned pork dish) with a dozen or so whole scallions. One of the best new (to me) fish dishes I've had in quite a while.

Those "stripes" in the picture are whole scallions. I find the use of kǎo (烤) a bit puzzling here. Normally, it has the sense of "baked" or "barbecued". But as used in the names of both this and the pork dish, it seems to pretty clearly mean "braised". I have no idea - perhaps it's just Shanghai usage.

"Pork with Mustard Green and Salted Egg Soup" (鹹蛋芥菜肉片湯 - xián dàn jiè cài ròu piàn tāng) is a soup of pretty much what it says: sliced pork, mustard greens and egg, although we were expecting the egg to be salted preserved egg (it's just egg drop - perhaps the 鹹 in the name of the dish is merited simply because they salt the egg before pouring it into the soup). No matter - the flavors are clear and delicious.  (This photo was taken by Seth, who spotted this soup on the menu.)

"Seafood Pan Fried Noodles" (海鮮兩面黄 - hǎi xiān liǎng miàn huáng) is a solid take on this dish: a sauce of shrimp, scallop, fake crab, snow peas - and quite a bit of broccoli - poured over crispy thin egg noodles. Quite tasty.

The takeout menu calls the restaurant "Shanghai Café Déluxé" (sic), having little to do with its Chinese name 喬家柵 (qiáo jiā shān), which seems to be a well-known restaurant name in Shanghai. This is the best Shanghainese restaurant in Manhattan, and, since their menu is much larger and more varied than that of Kung Fu Xiao Long Bao, if you order carefully, perhaps the best in the city. Now if they would only add a pig intestine dish like the fabulous one up at Ala Shanghai near Albany.

Shanghai Café (上海喬家柵)
100 Mott St., New York 10013
212-966-3988
(just north of Canal St.)

Kungfu Express cart

Next to the Northwestern Famous cart on Broadway by Columbia University is Kungfu Express, a cart run by a woman from Henan.

I asked for some guidance as to what I should try, and sure enough, she steered me toward the Henan-from-Xinjiang favorite dà pán jī, listed as "chicken over rice" (大盘鸡盖饭 - dà pán jī gài fàn , or over handmade wide noodles, if you prefer) on the posted menu. Of course, it's impossible with a cart to make each order on the spot like they do at HeNan Feng Wei, but she scooped up a nice, mild, homey version from a waiting pot: chunks of chicken stewed with potatoes, tree ear fungus, and just enough red pepper and spices to be interesting.

She also does some nice grilled skewers - over charcoal, no less! The Chinese sausage (烤香肠 - kǎo xiāng cháng) was delicious - sweet, with a bit more complexity of flavor than most Chinese sausages - and a chicken skewer I saw looked quite good - not the usual tiny chunks of meat.

Kungfu Express cart
Broadway, east side, @ 117th St., New York 10027
(1 train to 116th St.)

Northwestern Famous (中國西北名吃)

My neighborhood, Morningside Heights/Columbia University, like the Upper West Side in general, is a notorious wasteland when it comes to actual good food. Yes, there's Bombay Frankie, and an uptown outpost of Legend (though not blog-worthy, quite decent) recently opened on W. 109th St. But the scene recently brightened considerably with the arrival of Northwestern Famous (中國西北名吃), a.k.a. Uncle Luoyang (洛阳大叔) food cart by the main entrance of Columbia on Broadway.

中國西北名吃 (zhōng guó xī běi míng chī) means "China Northwest Famous Food", earning it a place on a very short list of establishments where the English name is an accurate translation of the Chinese one. My curiosity was definitely piqued wondering what, exactly, "Northwestern" refers to. The answer appears to be Shaanxi province (there's a lot of China further north and much further west than that, but I'm still getting acquainted with these subtleties of terminology). The signature offering is là zhī ròu jiā mó (腊汁肉夾饃), or "Stewed Pork Burger", a specialty from Xi'an. This is a first cousin to the cumin "lamb burger" sold at Xi'an Famous Foods (although pictured on the side panel of the cart, it's not actually on offer here at this time). The spices are milder, but the pork version is just as satisfying as the cumin lamb: juicy bits of long-simmered, ultra-flavorful meat in a round, wheat flatbread. (There is a highly informative article on traditional là zhī ròu jiā mó here.) A hearty snack for the princely sum of 3 dollars (the list menu in red letters seems to be the real menu here).

And now a woman from Henan has set up a cart next to Northwestern Famous, which I plan to check out soon. It's odd - I am utterly unaccustomed to actually wanting to eat in my neighborhood! Thank heaven some people with an entrepreneurial streak have finally figured out that there a LOT of Chinese students at Columbia that might like a taste of home. Here's hoping the trend continues.

Northwestern Famous (中國西北名吃), a.k.a. Uncle Luoyang (洛阳大叔)
Broadway, east side, @ 117th St., New York 10027
(1 train to 116th St.)

Kung Fu Xiao Long Bao (功夫小龍包)

Until the other night, easily the best xiǎo lóng bāo (小龍包 - "soup dumplings", although foodies tend to refer to them as XLB) I had tried in New York were those served by Diverse Dim Sum in the Flushing Mall. They're excellent, but those at Kung Fu Xiao Long Bao (功夫小龍包) are even better. Thin, translucent wrappers, meat and crab fillings of the proper texture, and tasty broth - all are as they should be. Perhaps enjoying them in a comfortable, tranquil restaurant environment - as opposed to a food court - gives them the edge, but I think they actually are slightly better.

On offer here is a decent-sized menu with a lot of standard Shanghai dishes, and a large selection of breakfast, Shanghai dim sum, and noodle soups. In addition to xiǎo lóng bāo, most of the Chinese patrons had noodle soups on the table, and they looked excellent. We were not, however, in the mood for soup, so we got other stuff. The cold appetizer called "Shanghai Special Chicken" turned out the be the house version of wine-marinated (or "drunken") chicken (sān huáng jī - 三黃鷄), the nicest take on this dish I've ever tried.

(The literal translation of the name of this dish is "three yellow chicken", and it appears that "three yellow" can refer to, among other things, a particular breed of chicken.)

Shredded Beef with Chili Pepper (xiǎo jiāo niú ròu sī - 小椒牛肉絲) is another very good dish: beef shreds stir-fried with shredded spicy green peppers and onion. Clean, fresh flavors, nicely balanced. I have friends that liked to order this dish at New Green Bo (now called Nice Green Bo, an especially ironic name considering the disposition of most of the staff) in Manhattan's Chinatown, way back when that was an acceptable place to go for people who like food (this was a long time ago)... Kung Fu Xiao Long Bao's is on another, higher plane entirely.

For me, the real revelation here is the Braised DongPo Pork (rě wèi dōng pō ròu - 惹味東坡肉). The expression rě wèi means "rich" (with thanks to Audrey Lo - I would never have figured that one out on my own) - a seemingly unnecessary modifier, since DongPo Pork (pork belly slow-braised in wine, soy sauce, and sugar) is itself a pretty rich dish to begin with. It comes in what looks like a large coffee cup or tiny soup tureen, fragrant with star anise and cassia (and looking almost like chocolate pudding, or raw liver):

As it turns out the 惹味 is not, in fact, descriptive overkill - this really is the richest, most flavorful version of this dish I have ever tried. It's pretty extraordinary. (The picture of a slice of it on rice did not turn out well at all, but perhaps it gives you an idea.)

Kung Fu Xiao Long Bao (功夫小龍包)
59-16 Main St., Flushing 11355
718-661-2882
website

Xiao Du Hui (小都會)

I recently ran across a reference to Xiao Du Hui (小都會) online and wondered why I had no clue as to what it was. I have walked past the place dozens of times and never noticed it. But sure enough, there it was, right where the address said it should be. The menu looked interesting and the prices were most definitely right, so in I went.

Xiao Du Hui (小都會 - xiǎo dū huì, which seems to be a way of saying "small town") serves Fuzhou-style food, Fuzhou being the capital of Fujian province in the south. It's a tad surprising to find a Fujianese restaurant in Flushing, bastion of the northern Chinese that it is – most of the Fujianese in New York gravitate toward Manhattan and Brooklyn Chinatowns. But it's there, doing a brisk business for what I have to believe are mostly Fujianese workers around town. The décor is not much to speak of – it is, in fact, a bit dingy – but that’s not why I go to restaurants, obviously. The food is honest cooking for ordinary people. There are very few frills, and it seems that, besides a better-than-average English menu translation, very few concessions are made for Westerners. It may not be for everybody, but it is for me. And it is most definitely a bargain.

Ye frugal diners out there will want to turn directly to the end of the menu, where the heading is not translated into English, but the price of $12.99 is prominently displayed. This page is a sort of family menu, and the price of $12.99 includes one soup from a list of 15 or so at the top (and one soup is large enough to feed 2 or 3) and TWO dishes from a list of almost 70 below that. And if you’d like an additional dish from the list, it's an extra $5.00. Two moderately-hungry eaters (or, that is to say, one of me) will be sated by the two-dish-plus-a-soup menu. Add another dish and you’ve got a small feast for two big eaters... for 18 bucks!

A free dish of preserved radish immediately appeared on ordering. It bears only the most superficial resemblance to the luó bo (蘿卜) at Lao Dong Bei.

Xiao Du Hui's is sliced thicker, not at all spicy, barely vinegary, and slightly sweet. And almost as nice, in fact – just completely different.

I went with the "Golden Fish Soup" (jīn qián yú tāng - 金錢魚湯), mostly because I had no idea what to expect. Even so, it was unexpected: a clear soup of small slices of what seems to be called argus fish or spotted scat in English and slices of winter melon in a sour broth. This fish is not for people who are put off by particularly "fishy-tasting" fish... it’s slightly oily and has a strong flavor. But it works beautifully with the winter melon, and the sour broth cuts the oily quality perfectly.

The "Beef Short Ribs with Salt and Pepper" (jiāo yán niú xiǎo pái - 椒鹽牛小排) were thin slices of cross-cut short ribs (on the bone, of course) coated in a salt-and-pepper seasoned breading, deep fried, then tossed in some chopped scallions and spicy green pepper slices. Delicious

If I hadn't learned some Chinese characters along the way, the "Grilled Meat with Garlic" (suàn miáo là ròu - 蒜苗臘肉) would have been a total shock. But I was ready for the stir-fry of slices of preserved pork and garlic greens that arrived at the table. This is pork preserved in a completely different fashion than that of my Hunan meal the night before – Xiao Du Hui's is a bit sweet and not the least bit smoky. Garlic greens always taste like leeks to me… I guess I'm just not as discerning when it comes to vegetables as I am when it comes to meat. A nice, homey dish.

On a subsequent visit, I tried the seaweed, tomato and tofu soup (fān qié zǐ cài dòu fǔ tāng - 蕃茄紫菜豆腐湯) It was less interesting than the Golden Fish Soup, mostly because the tomatoes – under-ripe and of the supermarket hothouse variety – almost completely lacked flavor. Since tofu hasn't much flavor on its own, this meant the soup was dominated by the taste of the (to my mind, overcooked) purple seaweed (nori). I thought the whole thing was under-seasoned, but that could just be my penchant for strong flavors. Personally, I'd advise skipping it.

五更牛什 (wǔ gēng niú shí) goes by the curious name of "Wu Gen Beef Muscles" on the menu. The literal translation is hardly less curious: Fifth-Watch Beef Entrails. Apparently, the name is taken from the period of time just before dawn, which is supposedly when one needs to start cooking the beef bits in order for them to be ready by lunchtime. And there is quite the assortment of beef bits here - brisket, various sinews, and at least three kinds of tripe – stewed with celery, peppers, and sour cabbage. It's a bit spicy and quite sour, and tastes very southeast Asian to me – rather like a sour curry. It’s not quite my thing – I do seem to prefer the cooking style of Chinese parts a bit farther north – but I think the dish was well-prepared, neophyte that I am to Fujianese cooking.

"Chicken with Food Chow Sauce" (sic) (糟雞 - zāo jī) is my favorite dish here so far. It turned out to be ultra-tender, juicy chunks of on-the-bone chicken simmered with that signature Fujianese ingredient, red wine lees (紅糟 - hóng zāo). Besides ginger, I couldn’t actually figure out what else was in the sauce. All I know is that whatever they do here, it makes the chicken taste like the chicken I used to eat in Portugal… more "chicken-y", somehow, than most chicken in the U.S.  It's a mild dish – don’t be misled by its startling color – and, unlike so many other dishes made with wine lees that I've tried, not the least bit cloying. Absolutely delicious.

The rest of the menu is huge and varied, with a lot of dishes you don't see just anywhere. Lots of noodle soups and rice noodle dishes, too. And they're open until 4 a.m.!

Xiao Du Hui
135-19 40th Rd., Flushing 11354
718-762-1955
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, 1 block south on Main, then right on 40th Rd.)

White Bear (白熊)

Posting about the wontons in red oil (紅油餛飩 - hóng yóu hún tún, or just ask for No. 6) at White Bear (白熊) is something I can't believe I haven't done... I've been meaning to forever. Quite simply, it's one of my favorite snacks in New York.

White Bear is run by a couple from Shandong, and their handmade wontons are, to this American, astonishing. The wontons are almost dumplings, really - the biggest difference is the wrapper. But what a difference it is: the wrappers are firm yet delicate, almost gossamer, and literally melt in your mouth. They enclose a pork and chive filling that is equally delicate in texture and seasoning. The red-pepper-infused oil is surprisingly mild, but the scallions, dried sumac, and the earthy-tasting chopped pickled vegetable create an overall flavor that is complex and infinitely satisfying. Every time I eat this dish, I want it to go on forever.

A bargain at $4.50 for 10 meaty wontons.

Their sesame noodles are simple and delicious, and quite popular, and they do a brisk take-away business of frozen dumplings to prepare at home.

White Bear (白熊)
135-02 Roosevelt Ave. (entrance on Prince St.),
Flushing 11354
718-961-2322
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, then one block west on Roosevelt)

Arirang (아리랑)

This evening, I had the some of the most wonderful Korean cooking I have ever tasted. Bearing in mind that my ideal food is made by someone's grandmother from the Old Country, the food at Arirang, in the Auburndale neighborhood of Flushing, must be what it's like to have someone's Korean grandmother cook for you. (Korean mothers have cooked for me, so I'm extrapolating – but not too much.)

The menu is small, and word is that everything on it is good. The two dishes we tried were great. They are especially well known for their dak kalguksu (닭칼국수 - knife-cut noodles in chicken soup, or... chicken noodle soup), and with good reason. The noodles are palpably homemade, as is the soup: small chunks of chicken in a rich, yet light broth. As close to perfection as I can imagine such a dish to be.

Although we didn't order the other noodle specialty of the house, su jae bi (수제비 - hand-torn noodles), luckily a few su jae bi bits tend to end up in the bowl with the kalguksu noodles. The slightly chewy patches of flat dough make a fun contrast.

The other dish on the table was equally outstanding. It's not even translated into English on the menu, so you need to know to ask for andong jjimdak (안동찜닭), or stewed chicken Andong style. It’s also rich, but not heavy, a bit sweet, a bit spicy - chicken pieces stewed with oyster sauce, soy sauce, jap chae clear noodles, chili pepper, garlic, potato, scallion, cucumber, carrot, sesame, and other goodies (as if all that isn’t enough). The wall menu says it feeds 2-3, but it can easily feed 4-5, especially if there’s a bowl or three of kalguksu on the table. Well worth the 32 bucks.

(This dish isn't actually too difficult to make if you have access to a decent Asian market, and there's an excellent recipe for it on the wonderful Maangchi.com.)

Aside from this and the noodles dishes, the only other type of food on the menu is pa jeon (해물파전 - haemul pajeon), a large, fried seafood and scallion pancake. Word on the street is that it’s great, too. I look forward to trying it next time.

Go early. On a Friday night, they were closing up by 9:30.

This is just the kind of home-style cooking that makes me very, very happy.

Arirang
41-04 163rd St., Flushing  11358
718-321-0185
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, then take the Q13 or Q 28 bus to 162nd St. It's a few doors south of Northern Blvd. on 163rd St.)

Li's (李記拉麵刀削麵) (New World Mall)

The stall formerly known as Sliced Noodle in the northeast corner of the New World Mall food court has received a facelift in the past few months. Now twice its former size, it sports a nifty new façade and a new name: Li’s (李記). Actually, the Chinese characters that sprawl across the façade say 李記拉麵刀削麵 (lǐ jì lā miàn dāo xiāo miàn, or "Li Ji" pulled noodle and knife-shaved noodle). The English fine-print signage also says "Lanzhou Hand-Stretched Noodles" and "Shanxi Sliced Noodles".

And with all the different place-names mentioned in its menu and signs, there is no mention (in English, anyway) that this place is actually Henan (in its "Sliced Noodle" days there were Chinese characters indicating that on prominent display). The menu, consisting mostly of dumplings, noodle soups and other noodle dishes, is quite similar to that of Henan Feng Wei and Uncle Zhou’s. They even have that Henan favorite from Xinjiang, dà pán jī (新疆大盤雞 - xīn jiāng dà pán jī), or "big tray o’ chicken" (there’s a description and picture of it in my post about Henan Feng Wei).

If you order hand-pulled noodles (拉麵 - lā miàn), the noodle guy comes up front and pulls some fresh for your dish:

Order some knife-shaved noodles (刀削麵 - dāo xiāo miàn), and if you position yourself toward the right-hand side of the counter, you can catch a glimpse of him shaving off the noodles from a block of dough into a pot on a stove in the back.

But when I come here, I can’t resist the pan-fried dumplings (開口鍋貼 - kāi kǒu guō tiē). They are made "open-mouth" style (開口 - kāi kǒu), i.e. not sealed up on the ends, and fried together in a pan in such a way that a starchy film connects the all the guō tiē, which are then turned out onto a plate.

And here’s one of the dumplings, open end visible and some crispy starchy film attached (it can be tricky when using chopsticks to keep the meat from slipping out of its sheath):

Have them with a mixture of hot pepper oil and black vinegar. Along with those at Nán Běi Shuǐ Jiǎo (南北水餃, in the Golden Shopping Mall), some of my favorite dumplings in Flushing. At $4.99 for eight, they’re not cheap, but still a good value.

Li's (李記拉麵刀削麵) - New World Mall food court, stall 12
Main & Roosevelt (enter on Roosevelt), Flushing 11354
718-888-9393
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing)

More Szechuan Dish (美四川) (CLOSED)

It didn’t take me long to return to the purveyors of the greatest noodle dish in New York and keep my promise – I had ròu shào dòu huā miàn (肉紹豆花面) this evening. And it lived up to its promise – a really lovely dish.

What you can’t see below the surface of ground pork, soft tofu (豆花 - dòu huā - literally means "bean flower"), and roasted peanuts is that it’s a deep bowl full of noodles. The broth is spicy but not overpoweringly so, with the barest hint of sourness. There’s just enough of it to keep the noodles from sticking together, but not so much that it becomes a soup. It’s rather like noodles flavored with a delicate má pó dòu fǔ (麻婆豆腐). Works for me!

Delicious as this is, my heart still belongs to ròu shào gān nǎn miàn. Either one, though - or just about anything else they make - is sufficiently good reason to make a special trip to Beautiful Sichuan (the Chinese name of Szechuan Dish is měi sì chuān, or "beautiful Sichuan").

Szechuan Dish (美四川) - New World Mall food court
Main & Roosevelt (enter on Roosevelt), Flushing 11354
718-353-4957
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing)

The greatest noodle dish in New York (CLOSED)

Tonight I ate a noodle dish that temporarily eradicated memories of all other noodle dishes I've ever eaten - it was that good - at Szechuan Dish (美四川), in the food court of the New World Mall. I wrote previously that on my first visit, ròu shào dòu huā miàn (肉紹豆花面 - noodles with soft tofu and pork) had piqued my interest to try the next time. But, for some reason, I skipped right over it this evening and ordered ròu shao gān nǎn miàn (肉紹干煵面 - sliced noodles with Szechuan chili-minced pork and peanut). It is, I think, the greatest noodle dish I've ever tried.

The picture does not begin to do justice to the magic of this dish. First off, the knife-shaved noodles are the most delicate I have ever encountered. They are positively light, almost lacy. In the bottom of the dish is a sauce of hot oil and spices, and sprinkled on top are minced pork, crushed peanut, and some chopped scallions. It is more than the sum of its parts, and eating it must be something akin to what Nirvana is like.

I was a bit puzzled by the Chinese name of the dish, and my thanks to Miss Audrey Lo for helping me decipher it (okay, for doing most of the deciphering for me). It seems that 干煵面 (gān nǎn miàn) is a type of noodle dish with lightly-fried sauce (apparently dàn dàn miàn (担担面) and my beloved zhá jiàng miàn (炸酱面) are both varieties of gān nǎn miàn), and 肉紹 (ròu shao) refers to the addition of minced pork.

And for the first time that I can remember, I had to know the name of the person who made this dish. His name is Yáng Kūn Qián (阳坤乾), and, as I noted before, is from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan. This man can COOK.

Divine as those noodles were, they weren't quite a meal, so I decided try the hóng yóu chāo shǒu, wontons in red hot oil (or "Wontons in Roasted Chili Sauce" - 紅油抄手). By now not unexpectedly, the greatest version of these I've tried. They're quite similar in style to Little Pepper's - the red oil is practically a broth - but with MUCH bolder flavors. The wontons are meaty and HUGE... I've been served smaller dumplings than these.

Next visit I'm definitely going to sample that ròu shào dòu huā miàn. I swear.

Szechuan Dish (美四川) - New World Mall food court
Main & Roosevelt (enter on Roosevelt), Flushing 11354
718-353-4957
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing)

Szechuan Dish - 美四川 (New World Mall) (CLOSED)

Quite a few stalls in the New World Mall food court have closed recently, followed by some new arrivals. For me, the most interesting of the newcomers, open just six days, is Szechuan Dish (美四川) in stall 25, sharing the southeast corner with the wonderful Tian Fu.

Manning the counter is an energetic and engaging young fellow named Michael who will happily explain any dish to you (his English is great - no language barrier here). I quickly guessed this was a family operation, and sure enough, his mother and father are the ones cooking in the kitchen. They are from Chengdu (the round badge in their sign has Chinese characters that mean "Chendgu flavor"), and are serving some dishes I have not encountered in New York before. I was told they import from Chengdu the preserved tofu used in the cold dish cōng xiāng dòu jīn (葱香豆筋), shreds of preserved tofu (often called "bean gluten") in a vinegar-scallion sauce, a dish of which they seem especially proud. And with good reason - it's unique and delicious: the bracing sauce is the perfect counterpoint to the heartiness of the slightly chewy preserved tofu shreds.

Also new to me is liáng bàn xīn shé (凉拌心舌), a cold "salad" of sliced heart and tongue in chili oil. It's marvelous - sort of the pig's response to the famous Sichuan dish fū qī fèi piàn (夫妻肺片) - ox tongue and tripe.

They're keeping it fairly simple to start off, with plans to expand the menu a bit later. So for now, there are dumplings in red hot oil (hóng yóu shuǐ jiǎo - 紅油水餃), some interesting-sounding noodle dishes (I'm quite eager to try ròu shào dòu huā miàn - 肉紹豆花面 - noodles with soft tofu and pork), and several other cold dishes. These include a má là crispy fish to rival Sister Zhu's of the now-defunct-but-resurrecting-at-some-future-date Savor Fusion (where is she now, anyway?), and the delightful liáng bàn jīn zhēn gū (凉拌金针菇) - enoki mushrooms in a tangy sauce. That's it there on the lower right:

So, stop by and welcome them to the neighborhood. You'll be rewarded with some unusual - and unusually tasty - cooking.

Szechuan Dish - New World Mall food court
Main & Roosevelt (enter on Roosevelt), Flushing 11354
718-353-4957
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing)
New World Mall food court website

Sheng Wang - Wall Menu (CLOSED)

A few weeks ago, I noticed that Sheng Wang had posted some hand-written menus on the wall. At least some of the items were definitely new, and when I recognized the characters for zhá jiang miàn (炸酱面), I got excited - I have rarely encountered a zhá jiang miàn I have not enjoyed, at least on some level. My expectations were, in fact, exceeded. This is probably now my favorite zhá jiang miàn in New York City (at least the Chinese version of the dish - the best Korean jja jang myun is another discussion entirely), followed closely by that of HeNan Flavor. Sheng Wang's wonderful hand-pulled noodles are topped with a generous dollop of a thick sauce sweet with stewed onions and bean paste, tiny chunks of hand-minced pork, and just enough hot-pepper kick to liven things a bit up and keep it from being cloying. Comfort on a (styrofoam) plate for 4 bucks.

Also on the wall menu is 元宵圆 (yuán xiāo yuán - Lantern Festival sweet dumpling), a dish I have also enjoyed at Happy Garden Palace. They look rather like their potato balls, but whiter - the dumplings are made with glutinous rice flour, filled with the same pork filling (that's MY kind of sweet dumpling!). Like everything else here, a bargain at 10 for $3.00.

The rest of the wall menu offerings are as follows (many, many thanks to Miss Audrey Lo for her help in deciphering the hand-written characters!):

1. lǔ wèi - stewed dishes

2. lǔ yā chì - stewed duck wing (2/$1.50)

3. lǔ dà cháng - stewed pork intestine ($3.50)

4. lǔ yā zhuǎ - stewed duck feet (4/$1.00)

5. lǔ niú ròu pīn pán - stewed beef combo cold platter ($5.00)

6. chǎo lā miàn - fried hand-pulled noodle

7. mǐ fěn - rice noodle

8. niú ròu chǎo lā miàn - beef fried noodle ($6.00) This dish is not new, and has been one of my favorites here for quite a while:

9. huā gé chǎo lā miàn - clam fried noodle ($6.50)

10. dà cháng chǎo lā miàn - pork intestine fried noodle ($6.00)

11. hǎi xiān chǎo lā miàn -seafood fried noodle ($6.50)

12. yáng dǔ chǎo lā miàn - lamb tripe fried noodle ($6.50)

13. zhá jiang miàn ($4.00)

14. yuán xiāo - Lantern Festival dumplings ($3.00)

15. běn lóu chǎo lā miàn - house fried noodle ($7.00)

16. yóu yú chǎo lā miàn - squid fried noodle ($6.50)

17. niú nǎn chǎo lā miàn - beef flank fried noodle ($6.00)

18. shāo yā chǎo lā miàn - roast duck fried noodle ($6.50)

19. niú zá chǎo lā miàn - beef offal fried noodle ($6.00)

There is also a sign that advertises hot or cold mung bean soup (lǜ dòu tāng) for $2.00.

Sheng Wang
27 Eldridge St., New York 10002
212-925-0805

Top Taste Restaurant - 桂林米粉

In recent months, a small restaurant claiming – and I don't dispute it - to serve "the only authentic Guilinese cuisine in NY" opened at the new Brooklyn Chinatown food court (8th Ave. at 63rd St.). I finally made it out to Sunset Park a couple of nights ago, and I'm already looking forward to a return visit.

The menu says it's called Top Taste Restaurant, but if that appears anywhere on the sign outside, I missed it. Look for the address (6307 8th Ave.) and the words "Guilin" or "Guilinese" and you should find it without much difficulty. Its Chinese name, 桂林米粉 (guì lín mǐ fěn), translates as "Guilin rice noodle" – a particularly apt name, as that's the house specialty. Guilin is an important city (with some spectacular scenery – google some photos) in Guangxi autonomous prefecture in southern China. Guangxi shares a border with Vietnam, and the spirit of Vietnamese cooking is often palpable at Top Taste.

You should almost certainly try the house specialty, Guilin Style Rice Noodle Soup (桂林米粉 - guì lín mǐ fěn), no. 1 on the menu. Round (as opposed to flat) rice noodles with crispy pork skin, braised beef tongue, toasted soy beans, Chinese parsley, and some minced pickled long beans...a really lovely combination. Served with a small cup of broth on the side in case you want to wet up your noodles some more.

Every bit as good is their Pickled Bamboo Shoot with Fish Fillet (酸笋燜魚塊 - suān sǔn mèn yú kuāi). This is listed on the menu with the "over rice" (飯 - fàn) dishes, but the guy behind the counter suggested to my Taiwanese-American friend Audrey that she might like it better as rice noodle soup (米粉 - mǐ fěn). I, for one, am glad he did. The broth was particularly delicious, and I couldn't seem to stop myself from sneaking spoonfuls of it.

Its spicy and tangy flavor reminded my very much of the distinctive flavors to be found at Yun Nan Flavor Snack, just up 8th Ave. fourteen blocks or so, and a glance at a map of China reveals that, of course, Yunnan is Guangxi's neighbor directly to the west.

Audrey can't seem to go to any Chinese restaurant without ordering pig intestine, and this time was no exception. The Crispy Pig Intestine (香脆皮大腸 - xiāng cuì pí dà cháng) was really delightful, served with a light sweet and sour dipping sauce on the side.

I, on the other hand, have a great deal of trouble resisting sausage if it's on offer, so the Sausage Fried Rice Noodle (香腸炒米粉 - xiāng cháng chǎo mǐ fěn) also had to be ordered. It was good – the sweetness of the Chinese sausage, wood ear, cabbage, and the light oiliness of the fried noodles all balanced out perfectly.

Across the table, Chikako and Pete had ordered the Guilin Style Spicy Chicken Over Rice (辣子鶏飯 - là zǐ jī fàn). Another hit – clear flavors, sautéed with a light hand.

There were also lamb and beef skewers, from almost a dozen varieties on the menu (I did not get pictures of them, although part of one sneaked into the upper right corner of the pig intestine picture). For one dollar each, you get about twice the meat as their Flushing food cart counterparts. Since they're good, this is real bargain. Of course, the whole menu is more or less a bargain – except for the hot pots, nothing on it is more than $6.50.

I didn't discover until after the meal that they are also known locally for a novelty skewer item, "Twist Potato" (旋風土豆串 - xuán fēng tǔ dòu chuàn), a very thinly sliced spiral of potato threaded onto a skewer and grilled. I'll definitely be trying it the next time.

Top Taste Restaurant (桂林米粉)
6307 8th Ave., Brooklyn 11220
718-833-8806
(N train to 8th Ave., then 3 blocks south)

Golden Corner Noodles, formerly Gourmet Noodle & Delicacies

(UPDATE Feb. 2016: This place has changed names, but their menu and quality are still the same.)

There's a very small storefront on College Point Blvd. that dishes up some pretty fantastic food, at equally fantastic prices. Golden Corner Noodles is owned and run by folks from the city of Wenzhou, an important economic and industrial city in Zhejiang province, which is next door to Fujian province.

Apart from greens-stuffed bing, pork and chive dumplings (which no one seems to order), and about a dozen breakfast items, the offerings here fall into two main groups: noodle soups and prepared cold dishes. In contrast to the northern Chinese noodles shops, the reigning noodle here is the rice noodle. And the soup that reigns supreme is the stewed sparerib rice noodle soup (紅燒排骨粉 – hóng shāo pái gǔ fěn). It’s possibly the most delicious noodle soup I've ever had. Each portion comes with its own mini 3-or-4-rib rack of baby spare ribs, some pickled mustard greens, a rich, complex pork broth, and rice noodles that are just tasty and chewy enough to be interesting on their own. A perfect, self-contained lunch. And if, for some unfathomable reason, you don’t want pork, there are 8 or 9 other options of fish, seafood, vegetable, and wontons to satisfy you. The Wenzhou-style wonton soup is particularly nice (温州餛飩湯 – wēn zhōu hún tún tāng), with ultra-delicate little wontons, similar to those of Fujian.

As stellar as that spare-rib soup is, the center-stage spotlight here is held by the prepared cold dishes. There is a steady stream of customers all day that don’t order anything at all to eat there, but just drop in to buy food to take home. There are at least four dozen dishes listed in their lǔ wèi xiǎo cài (滷味小菜) menu, and I haven’t tried one yet that wasn’t delicious. One of the nicest was the very first thing I sampled, something from the glass case that looked beautifully fresh, and turned out to be goose intestine with mustard greens (I never did find out the name of this dish, but it has something to do with jiè cài – 芥菜 – mustard greens, and é cháng – 鹅腸 – goose intestine), tossed with just a touch of vinegar and oil until they glisten.

Almost everyone who walks through the door ends up leaving with at least one braised pork shoulder (滷扎蹄 – lǔ zā tí)... try one and it’s easy to understand why. The bone is removed, then a roll is made with the shoulder meat wrapped in the skin-like fat, which is then tied up with string, brined, and braised. They slice it into thin half-moons for you - with the vinegar dipping sauce, it’s difficult to stop eating it.

The beef equivalent, lǔ niú ròu (滷牛肉), is similar in idea and execution, and every bit as deliciously addictive.

Their chopped-up boiled chicken is cooked perfectly (白斩鸡 – bái zhǎn jī) – plain chicken does not often taste this good. Gāo liáng ròu (高梁肉) – thin sheets of pork jerky cured with sorghum (which lends a subtle sweet flavor) cut into strips – makes a fun snack. And their fish jelly (魚膠凍 – yú jiāo dòng) is marvelous. I know it sounds weird... just give it a try. At these eminently reasonable prices, one can afford to try lots of things.

(Ed. There is a different English sign now - I cannot now remember what it is - but they serve the same excellent food as of Sept. 2013.)

Golden Corner Noodles
42-15 College Point Blvd., Flushing 11355
718-886-0123
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, 5 blocks south on Main, then right on Sanford to College Point Blvd.)

Savor Fusion (Maple Snacks) (CLOSED)

A couple of weeks ago, I received a tweet from the intrepid Joe DiStefano, of the World’s Fare blog, about a truly great bowl of dàn dàn miàn he had just eaten at a new food court in Flushing. I trust his opinion more than just about any food writer I can think of, so I headed out the next day, in the rain, to find the Savor Fusion food court (although the Chinese characters on the awning – 楓林小吃 – mean “Maple Snacks”). What I found was a nicely-appointed, brand-spanking-new food court with eight stalls that serve some pretty damn good food at fantastic prices. It has become my latest Flushing obsession.

Of course, Joe managed to find it the very first day it was open for business (how on earth does he do it?), which means, I guess, that I was there on its second day. They are still putting on some finishing touches, and the promised English menus have yet to materialize, but it is surprisingly inviting for a Flushing food court, and a 洋鬼子 like me can almost always find a helpful translator when necessary.

Each stall has a placard above the counter with its menu – Chinese only, so far, except for the Shanghai stall – and stall number (somehow two stalls ended up with the designation “#1”, but no matter…). To hit the highlights of my explorations so far: the stall #1 at the very back of the court, away from the doors, is called 水餃 (shuǐ jiǎo, or boiled dumplings) and serves, true to its name, some stellar boiled dumplings. They have some half-dozen varieties that are frozen to take home, or they'll boil up and serve you. The first time I ordered 三鮮 水 (sān xiān shuǐ jiǎo – literally “three fresh”, or three treasure dumplings, the treasures in question being pork, shrimp and chive), I was presented with probably the most perfect dumplings I have ever tasted: the filling was the perfect balance of ingredients, the wrappers just the right consistency, and the two were perfectly wedded together. I subsequently discovered it makes a difference just who boils them up here – of the two guys behind the counter at various times, if there is a choice, try to get to the one with the more prominent, slightly “chiseled” facial features. Neither speak any English, so practice the phrase “sān xiān shuǐ jiǎo”, and for $3.50 you’ll be rewarded with an unbeatable snack.

Next door is #2, hand-pulled noodles. As far as I can tell, their menu is all noodles in soup (the fried noodle thing seems to be show up mostly in southern Chinese cuisines, and these guys are, I think, from the north). They also do knife-shave noodles – 刀削面 (dāo xiāo miàn) – made the real traditional way, shaving the noodles off the top of a block of dough with a cleaver into boiling water (be sure to watch the guy do it), not by using the machine that looks like a hand-held mandoline that I’ve seen in at least one stall in the New World Mall. You might want to ask for these to be cooked more “al dente” – mine had been boiled just a bit too long for my taste, but were otherwise delicious. English is good here, and they are happy to work with you to give you something you’ll like.

Just across the way that leads to the restroom (yes, there is a nice, clean restroom here!) is a Taiwanese stand (#3) called “Fried dumpling” that I haven’t tried yet, but I’m told has excellent má là tāng (麻辣汤, a spicy-tingly noodle soup with a little bit everything in it, plus your choice of meat). Just around the corner is #4, which has no English name, but the Chinese characters are 河南 (HeNan, as in the province). Among other things, they do two kinds of stuffed small steamed pancakes – one being a spicy cumin lamb filling very much like that of Xi’an Famous Foods (and every bit as good, if not better, because their pancakes tend to be fresher), and the other an utterly delicious chopped stewed pork belly filling (ask for 肉夾饃 – ròu jià mó). Their zhá jiang miàn (炸酱面 – noodles with a minced pork and brown bean sauce) is also very good, although next time I will ask them to leave off the bean sprouts.

Continuing to the right is stall #5, called Tian Jin (天津, the city near Beijing). I have not yet investigated this one, and can’t figure out what they do, but almost no item is more than $3.00 (I’m guessing a lot of breakfast items – on mystery Chinese menus, it’s a pretty safe bet that things under $2 are breakfast items). #6 to the right is another stall I haven’t tried with a very short, inexpensive menu that includes two things translated into English: vegetable roll and fried chicken wings. Not quite sufficient to pique my curiosity enough to try it. And all the way to the right, by the Main St. entrance, is the second stall marked #1, purveying Shanghai specialties. A menu placard completely translated into English appeared this week, and it definitely looks worth a try (I haven’t yet, but maybe later today...). Their offerings fall into two categories: almost two dozen prepared (cold) items are available by the pound (a lot of great-looking stuff here), and hot wontons and noodle soups.

But in between these last two is, predictably, my favorite – the Sichuan stall (#7). Thanks to Joe DiStefano, I know that 成都小吃朱大姐 is run by Sister Zhu, and she makes truly the most delicious dàn dàn miàn (担担面 – noodles with a spicy/numbing minced pork sauce) I have ever tried. But that’s only the beginning. Her fū qī fèi piàn (夫妻肺片 – cold ox tongue and tripe in spicy sauce) is a thing of beauty, and both her má là jī (麻辣雞 – cold spicy/tingly chicken) and má là yú (麻辣魚 – spicy/tingly fish, an especially good deal at 6 bucks for a an order of 5 or 6 medium-sized fish) are outrageously delicious. She also makes the best má pó dòu fǔ (麻婆豆腐 – bean curd with spicy minced pork) I’ve had in years, since the early days of Little Pepper (no more – they make it differently now). She really cares about what she serves, and her English is pretty good (if her son is working, his English is great - he’s very good with a wok, too). And her homemade sausages (香肠 - xiāng cháng) are probably the most delicious I’ve tasted in this country... the flavor kept reminding me of Spain, except the Spanish don’t use Sichuan peppercorn!



Savor Fusion (aka Maple Snacks)
42-01 Main St., Flushing 11355
718-886-6966,
(7 train to Flushing-Main St., then walk south 5 blocks on Main)