I was in Lyon, France recently for work, and the president of the organization for which I was working arranged a dinner one evening for our group at La Mère Brazier. Now, La Mère Brazier does not even remotely fall into the category of restaurant I normally write about—it’s far too expensive (and this was, unfortunately, a Dutch-treat affair)—but it’s difficult to resist saying a few words about what was probably the most beautifully-prepared meal I have ever been served.
La Mère Brazier has been around since 1921, but the kitchen has belonged to Mathieu Viannay since 2008, who is presumably responsible for the restaurant’s current Michelin 2-star rating (it had 3, once upon a time in its heyday). Viannay fuses elements of traditional Lyonnais cooking and modern cuisine, to my mind, completely successfully. It was a faultless meal—at least until the check came, which contained an egregious mistake in multiplication (why are these sorts of mistakes always in the restaurant’s favor?), cheerfully corrected once pointed out.
Since I was most definitely on a budget—relatively speaking—I ordered the most economical option, the menu de saison (58€ for 3 courses—around $85). It began with a paté en croûte of Bresse chicken and foie gras with a bit of warm black cherry jam. It could not have been improved: the crust light and flaky, the paté perfectly balanced, and the black cherry a marvelous counterpoint to it. This was followed by two of the most perfect chunks of milk-fed lamb imaginable on fried polenta with a jus reduction, accompanied by baby vegetables. Lovely. Dessert was a fabulous tarte soufflé au chocolat with vanilla bourbon ice cream: wonderful dark chocolate, and most importantly, for my palate at least, not too sweet. I did not feel the least bit deprived doing it on the cheap (once again, relatively speaking)... that is, until I got a whiff of what two of my companions at the other end of the table had ordered: poularde de Bresse demi-deuil. This is Viannay’s take on the classic Lyonnais dish created by mère Filloux of the original La Mère Brazier: Bresse chicken with slices of black truffle inserted between the meat and skin, then poached and served with vegetables, sauce and various pickled condiments. It looked and smelled absolutely divine, and my friends were audibly moaning the entire time they were eating it. I’d say they definitely got their 125€ ($180+!!) worth.
Still, with all its high art and perfection, this is not food that speaks to my soul. In fact, I had to be reminded of what exactly it was that I ate by looking at the website. (I did NOT, however, have to be reminded about anything concerning that chicken at the other end of the table!) It’s an experience definitely worth having, if you can afford it.
La Mère Brazier
12 Rue Royale
69001 Lyon, France
(+33) (0)4 78 23 17 20
website
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Uncle Zhou
If I had written about Uncle Zhou (or 大河人家 - "big river people") when I first went there, it would have been the very first English-language notice about it on the internet (a Chinese soprano—from Henan—told me about it). But, I wanted to try more things before writing about it, and then procrastination set in, so here I am finally getting around to it 3 months later.
Comparisons to Henan Feng Wei are inevitable, since it is the only other Henan-style restaurant in New York (that I know of, anyway). The offerings are similar, but by no means identical. Both focus on noodles, dumplings, with some other kinds of dishes along for the ride, and both serve excellent food. And that’s where the similarity ends. For one thing, Uncle Zhou’s serves not only the hallmark handmade wide, ribbon-like noodles in soup (烩面 - huì miàn), but also the fine hand-pulled noodles (拉面 - lā miàn) and knife-shaved noodles (刀削面 - dāo xiāo miàn), a la Sheng Wang (although Uncle Zhou’s are, I think, a shade more delicate). The wide variety of noodle soups here includes something for every taste—I especially love the spicy beef hand-pulled noodle soup and the chicken knife-shaved noodle soup. But, of course, lamb soup with the wide noodles (滋补羊肉烩面) is the most typical Henanese offering.
My beloved dà pán jī (大盘鸡 - spicy "big tray chicken") is terrific here, and quite different from Henan Feng Wei’s. There the flavors are more concentrated and intense. Uncle Zhou’s version, while packing almost all of the same spice, is mellower, more like comfort food. And it comes served on a bed of the wide noodles—at Henan Feng Wei you have to order noodles separately. And like Henan Feng Wei, they have a few kòu wǎn (扣碗 - small casseroles of chicken, pork or spare ribs) and shāo bǐng (燒餅 - baked sesame pancake). The pork stuffed pancake seems to be off the menu at the moment, which is too bad—it’s better than the beef one currently on offer.
There are also a dozen and a half "house special dishes"—various braised and stir-fried dishes. I haven’t tried all of them—yet—but the "house special fried chicken" must surely be the standout on the list. It’s name, zhá bā kuāi (炸八块 – "fried eight chunks") is perhaps as good a description of it as any, and the execution is sheer genius: each "chunk" is made by peeling the dark meat down away from the leg or thigh bone so it forms a nice knot of meat attached to its own bone handle. They are then lightly seasoned and fried to juicy perfection. There are—you guessed it—eight pieces to an order. And be sure to check out the cold appetizers in the case up by the cash register. The marinated cucumbers (蓑衣黄瓜 - suō yì huáng guā) are especially good. Each small cucumber is intricately cut in a spiral pattern, rather like a Honeybaked ham, yet remains intact, reminding one of an accordion—all the better to soak up the sweet-sour-spicy marinade.
And with such eminently reasonable prices, one could eat here almost every day. I have a feeling some people do—I’ve seen quite a few repeat customers besides myself on my visits there. Open until 11 p.m.
Uncle Zhou
83-29 Broadway, Elmhurst 11373
718-393-0888
(G, R, or V train to Elmhurst Ave., south on Broadway)
Comparisons to Henan Feng Wei are inevitable, since it is the only other Henan-style restaurant in New York (that I know of, anyway). The offerings are similar, but by no means identical. Both focus on noodles, dumplings, with some other kinds of dishes along for the ride, and both serve excellent food. And that’s where the similarity ends. For one thing, Uncle Zhou’s serves not only the hallmark handmade wide, ribbon-like noodles in soup (烩面 - huì miàn), but also the fine hand-pulled noodles (拉面 - lā miàn) and knife-shaved noodles (刀削面 - dāo xiāo miàn), a la Sheng Wang (although Uncle Zhou’s are, I think, a shade more delicate). The wide variety of noodle soups here includes something for every taste—I especially love the spicy beef hand-pulled noodle soup and the chicken knife-shaved noodle soup. But, of course, lamb soup with the wide noodles (滋补羊肉烩面) is the most typical Henanese offering.
My beloved dà pán jī (大盘鸡 - spicy "big tray chicken") is terrific here, and quite different from Henan Feng Wei’s. There the flavors are more concentrated and intense. Uncle Zhou’s version, while packing almost all of the same spice, is mellower, more like comfort food. And it comes served on a bed of the wide noodles—at Henan Feng Wei you have to order noodles separately. And like Henan Feng Wei, they have a few kòu wǎn (扣碗 - small casseroles of chicken, pork or spare ribs) and shāo bǐng (燒餅 - baked sesame pancake). The pork stuffed pancake seems to be off the menu at the moment, which is too bad—it’s better than the beef one currently on offer.
There are also a dozen and a half "house special dishes"—various braised and stir-fried dishes. I haven’t tried all of them—yet—but the "house special fried chicken" must surely be the standout on the list. It’s name, zhá bā kuāi (炸八块 – "fried eight chunks") is perhaps as good a description of it as any, and the execution is sheer genius: each "chunk" is made by peeling the dark meat down away from the leg or thigh bone so it forms a nice knot of meat attached to its own bone handle. They are then lightly seasoned and fried to juicy perfection. There are—you guessed it—eight pieces to an order. And be sure to check out the cold appetizers in the case up by the cash register. The marinated cucumbers (蓑衣黄瓜 - suō yì huáng guā) are especially good. Each small cucumber is intricately cut in a spiral pattern, rather like a Honeybaked ham, yet remains intact, reminding one of an accordion—all the better to soak up the sweet-sour-spicy marinade.
And with such eminently reasonable prices, one could eat here almost every day. I have a feeling some people do—I’ve seen quite a few repeat customers besides myself on my visits there. Open until 11 p.m.
Uncle Zhou
83-29 Broadway, Elmhurst 11373
718-393-0888
(G, R, or V train to Elmhurst Ave., south on Broadway)
Friday, July 15, 2011
Phở #1
I keep lamenting the fact that NYC has almost no Vietnamese restaurants worth going to, so when I go somewhere that DOES, I get as much in as I can. As I mentioned in my Monte Carlo Restaurant post, I only discovered Gil's Thrilling (and Filling) Blog my last night in Albuquerque, and it led me to Phở #1. This made me very happy indeed.
Their specialty is Bò 7 Món, or 7 courses of beef, a something traditionally served at wedding banquets. The table next to me was enjoying it quite audibly. But I was just one person and wanted to try some of the other things on the menu I had never encountered before. They were all winners. First up was Bò Lá Lốt: seasoned ground beef wrapped in wild betel leaves (rather like smaller, thinner grape leaves, referred to on the menu, mysteriously, as "Hawaiian loaf leaf") and grilled. It's one of the Bò 7 Món courses, and it earns its place there: tasty and fun to pick up and nibble on. I also had a variety of phở I had never tried before, Phở Sate Đặc Biệt, or sate beef phở. In this case, sate does not refer to grilled meat skewers, but a chili and garlic paste typical of the Mekong River delta. This is my new favorite variety of phở and I'll definitely order it if I ever see it again on another menu... which will involve going someplace that has decent Vietnamese restaurants... okay, I'll stop now.
As great as that phở was, the grand prize of the meal went to Ram Chiên, translated on the menu as "Central Vietnamese egg roll". This does not even begin to suggest its beauty, and I'm very glad I asked about it: it's BBQ pork, shrimp, scallion, and bean sprouts rolled in a rice wrapper and deep-fried. The rice wrapper comes out both crispy and chewy, and the marriage of BBQ pork and shrimp is of the happiest possible kind... in short, magnificent, and I hope I get to eat it again some day.
Phở #1
414 San Pedro SE
Albuquerque, NM 87108
505-268-0488
(closed Wednesdays)
Their specialty is Bò 7 Món, or 7 courses of beef, a something traditionally served at wedding banquets. The table next to me was enjoying it quite audibly. But I was just one person and wanted to try some of the other things on the menu I had never encountered before. They were all winners. First up was Bò Lá Lốt: seasoned ground beef wrapped in wild betel leaves (rather like smaller, thinner grape leaves, referred to on the menu, mysteriously, as "Hawaiian loaf leaf") and grilled. It's one of the Bò 7 Món courses, and it earns its place there: tasty and fun to pick up and nibble on. I also had a variety of phở I had never tried before, Phở Sate Đặc Biệt, or sate beef phở. In this case, sate does not refer to grilled meat skewers, but a chili and garlic paste typical of the Mekong River delta. This is my new favorite variety of phở and I'll definitely order it if I ever see it again on another menu... which will involve going someplace that has decent Vietnamese restaurants... okay, I'll stop now.
As great as that phở was, the grand prize of the meal went to Ram Chiên, translated on the menu as "Central Vietnamese egg roll". This does not even begin to suggest its beauty, and I'm very glad I asked about it: it's BBQ pork, shrimp, scallion, and bean sprouts rolled in a rice wrapper and deep-fried. The rice wrapper comes out both crispy and chewy, and the marriage of BBQ pork and shrimp is of the happiest possible kind... in short, magnificent, and I hope I get to eat it again some day.
Phở #1
414 San Pedro SE
Albuquerque, NM 87108
505-268-0488
(closed Wednesdays)
Monte Carlo Restaurant
If you are planning to visit Albuquerque for any length of time and are interested in food (since you're reading this, I believe that can be assumed), do not fail to check out Gil's Thrilling (and Filling) Blog. He writes thoroughly and knowledgeably about every restaurant in the area worth going to, and--almost as important for a place like ABQ--a lot of places NOT worth going to. I was quite disappointed that I only found his blog on the last day of my most recent trip there. Still, it led me to Phở #1, so it's all good.
When my friend Thomas told me about Monte Carlo Restaurant, he thought it was my kind of place, and he was absolutely right. I later discovered that it had been featured on "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives": while that host is unwatchable (is there anything more irritating than Guy Fieri talking about... well, anything, much less something as important as food? I think not), the show's research team definitely knows what it is about (I wonder if they have any openings?). And finally, I discovered that Gil has written about it much more thoroughly and persuasively than I ever could. So, in brief: go! This place is fabulousness embodied, in a style that has practically disappeared. With dark paneling, neon signs, and Naugahyde half-moon banquettes, it looks like nothing has changed in 40 years, and it could not exist anywhere else but the American Southwest. It's owned by a Greek family that understands food. The steaks are great and the prices reasonable. And one of it's entrances is through the liquor store with which it shares a building. Monte Carlo Restaurant is what is now, unfortunately, a one-of-a-kind experience and should not be missed.
Monte Carlo Restaurant
3916 Central Ave SW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-831-2444
When my friend Thomas told me about Monte Carlo Restaurant, he thought it was my kind of place, and he was absolutely right. I later discovered that it had been featured on "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives": while that host is unwatchable (is there anything more irritating than Guy Fieri talking about... well, anything, much less something as important as food? I think not), the show's research team definitely knows what it is about (I wonder if they have any openings?). And finally, I discovered that Gil has written about it much more thoroughly and persuasively than I ever could. So, in brief: go! This place is fabulousness embodied, in a style that has practically disappeared. With dark paneling, neon signs, and Naugahyde half-moon banquettes, it looks like nothing has changed in 40 years, and it could not exist anywhere else but the American Southwest. It's owned by a Greek family that understands food. The steaks are great and the prices reasonable. And one of it's entrances is through the liquor store with which it shares a building. Monte Carlo Restaurant is what is now, unfortunately, a one-of-a-kind experience and should not be missed.
Monte Carlo Restaurant
3916 Central Ave SW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-831-2444
Pro's Ranch Market
All the New Mexican food in in Albuquerque is great and all, but if you want something a little different, something a little closer to... oh... actual Mexican food, pay a visit to Pro's Ranch Market on the west side of town.
To say it's a big grocery store with a food court is hardly doing it justice, but that's essentially what it is. It's easily the most festive grocery store I've ever been to, and if only ALL food courts were like this. All the food preparation areas are visible to the public, so you can watch Mexican women make fresh tortillas (does that make them tortilleras?) or tamales--something I could do for hours. These chicks know what they're doing--they're real pros. There's a steam table with the dozen or so hot dishes prepared that day... I finally got to taste the birria I never got to taste in Mexico (delicious, of course). There's a huge--and hugely popular--juice and beverage counter, and my personal favorite, the torta counter. Their tortas are as good as I had anywhere in Mexico... if you like a little bit of everything (including head cheese, but you'll hardly notice it), the torta cubana is fantastic: your choice of grilled meat, plus two or three other coldcuts in there, plus cheese (normal and head) and avocado cream and... I know I'm forgotting something... on a toasted roll. When I saw torta ahogada up on the board, I got really excited, but a couple of questions revealed that what they make is not the classic torta ahogada of Guadalajara. Still, I'm sure it's great. The prices are, of course, super reasonable.
This is a mini-chain of markets--most of them are in Phoenix, with a handle of others in New Mexico and Texas. I wonder how we can get them to open one in New York City...
I can dream, can't I?
Pro's Ranch Market
4201 Central Ave NW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-833-1765
website
To say it's a big grocery store with a food court is hardly doing it justice, but that's essentially what it is. It's easily the most festive grocery store I've ever been to, and if only ALL food courts were like this. All the food preparation areas are visible to the public, so you can watch Mexican women make fresh tortillas (does that make them tortilleras?) or tamales--something I could do for hours. These chicks know what they're doing--they're real pros. There's a steam table with the dozen or so hot dishes prepared that day... I finally got to taste the birria I never got to taste in Mexico (delicious, of course). There's a huge--and hugely popular--juice and beverage counter, and my personal favorite, the torta counter. Their tortas are as good as I had anywhere in Mexico... if you like a little bit of everything (including head cheese, but you'll hardly notice it), the torta cubana is fantastic: your choice of grilled meat, plus two or three other coldcuts in there, plus cheese (normal and head) and avocado cream and... I know I'm forgotting something... on a toasted roll. When I saw torta ahogada up on the board, I got really excited, but a couple of questions revealed that what they make is not the classic torta ahogada of Guadalajara. Still, I'm sure it's great. The prices are, of course, super reasonable.
This is a mini-chain of markets--most of them are in Phoenix, with a handle of others in New Mexico and Texas. I wonder how we can get them to open one in New York City...
I can dream, can't I?
Pro's Ranch Market
4201 Central Ave NW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-833-1765
website
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Jeff's Joint BBQ
Taos, New Mexico, was not exactly the place I expected to have the best barbecue I've tried in years, but life is full of surprises. When I first drove past Jeff's Joint BBQ, I thought it looked promising somehow, and my instincts proved to be correct: this is the best BBQ I've had since Clark's Outpost in Tioga, TX (it was North Carolina before that).
The busy pitmaster (Jeff, presumably, although I did not have a chance to ask) wandered by the counter once or twice, and my inquiry as to the house specialty yielded the answer, "Ribs". Thanks. There are 4 kinds here: spare ribs, baby back, beef ribs, and short ribs. Naturally, I wanted to try all of them, and herein lies the biggest problem with going places solo as I so often end up doing. The intensely sweet but scattered woman behind the cash register was more of a hindrance than help with ordering, but in the end, I settled on a half rack of spare ribs over the baby back, plus half-pound orders each of beef ribs, short ribs, and sausage (to go--even I can't eat all that in one sitting).
It was all fantastic. This guy really knows what he's doing. The ribs all benefited from a nice dry rub, then were barbecued/smoked by an expert. The meat comes out so juicy and tasty that it hardly needs the tangy, not-too-sweet, house barbecue sauce served on the side, but is enhanced by it beautifully.
My big regret: not being able to try to the Saturday-only special, Stephane's grilled and sliced whole top sirloin. Maybe next time.
Closed Mondays, and be sure to get there before 9:00 p.m.
Jeff's Joint BBQ
1014 Paseo del Pueblo Sur
Taos, NM 87571
575-758-1027
website
The busy pitmaster (Jeff, presumably, although I did not have a chance to ask) wandered by the counter once or twice, and my inquiry as to the house specialty yielded the answer, "Ribs". Thanks. There are 4 kinds here: spare ribs, baby back, beef ribs, and short ribs. Naturally, I wanted to try all of them, and herein lies the biggest problem with going places solo as I so often end up doing. The intensely sweet but scattered woman behind the cash register was more of a hindrance than help with ordering, but in the end, I settled on a half rack of spare ribs over the baby back, plus half-pound orders each of beef ribs, short ribs, and sausage (to go--even I can't eat all that in one sitting).
It was all fantastic. This guy really knows what he's doing. The ribs all benefited from a nice dry rub, then were barbecued/smoked by an expert. The meat comes out so juicy and tasty that it hardly needs the tangy, not-too-sweet, house barbecue sauce served on the side, but is enhanced by it beautifully.
My big regret: not being able to try to the Saturday-only special, Stephane's grilled and sliced whole top sirloin. Maybe next time.
Closed Mondays, and be sure to get there before 9:00 p.m.
Jeff's Joint BBQ
1014 Paseo del Pueblo Sur
Taos, NM 87571
575-758-1027
website
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Hunan Kitchen of Grand Sichuan
Edited Jan. 2018: In recent months, the quality here has slipped to the point where I feel this place is no longer recommendable.
Perhaps my overall favorite Chinese restaurant in Flushing these days is the somewhat oddly-named Hunan Kitchen of Grand Sichuan. Generally wonderful, fiery food served in extremely pleasant surroundings... what's not to love?
I'm probably going to sound like a one-man PR department for this place, but with one or two exceptions--and I've tried a couple of dozen dishes here (less than a quarter of their huge menu)--I've loved everything I've tasted. Hunan food tends to be more straightforwardly spicy than that of neighboring Sichuan, the obvious cuisine for comparison. In fact, from what I've read, the Hunanese like to make fun of the Sichuanese liberal use of numbing Sichuan peppercorns--if you're going to eat hot peppers, why pussy-foot around? I must say I see their point, although I dearly love both approaches.
If asked, the helpful wait-staff will probably steer you towards the BBQ Fish, and they are not wrong. A whole tilapia arrives in a baking dish covered with diced potatoes and yams, scallion, ginger, garlic, roasted peanuts, and, of course, toasted dried red chili peppers. It's set atop a portable gas burner so it can bubble away as you eat it, and it's terrific. They also prepare duck and pig's foot this way--I think the BBQ pig's foot is perhaps even more successful as a dish than the fish (and that's saying something!), but it makes for pretty heavy eating... I don't think I'd want it in warm weather.
Equally good is the "big fish head in huge pot". You're given a choice, but get it spicy--you're at a Hunan restaurant, for god's sake! They don't exaggerate: a large carp's head arrives in a huge pot of broth spiked with pickled hot red peppers, and it simmers atop--you guessed it--a portable gas burner (practically every table in the place has at least one gas burner on it keeping something hot). When you're ready, the waitress will come by and dump a huge plate of vegetables and mung bean sheet noodles in. Probably the best "hot pot" I've ever had. And don't be put off by the "fish head" thing--carp's heads are surprisingly meaty.
Perhaps Hunan's most famous dish, here called "braised pork, Mao's style", is excellent. It was Chairman Mao's favorite dish, and he was said to have eaten it almost every day. Chunks of pork belly simmered in a sweet, spicy brown sauce. Even better, for my money, is an item not on the menu, but you should be able to get it by asking for the "pork leg dish like Mao's pork". Chunks of pork shoulder (one waitress kept insisting it was "leg" and not shoulder, but I know pork shoulder, and this is pork shoulder) braised in a complex brown sauce, not as sweet as Mao's pork, and with just enough red pepper to make it interesting. Served in a lovely mound surrounded by baby bok choy.
It's difficult to go wrong here. I've quite enjoyed all the cold plates I've tried: liquor-soaked duck (here the character 洒 in the Chinese name of the dish is more accurate: "sprinkled"), chicken with scallion and chili oil (not spicy--almost a pesto-feel to the sauce), and ox tongue and tripe in spicy pepper sauce (the meat is okay, but the sauce is the most complex and interesting of any version of this dish I've tried). The spicy cold noodles are reminiscent of their Sichuan counterparts, although the noodles here are a bit wider, and there is the bracing addition of a good dose of vinegar. Stay away from the soup dumplings--one of the only real misfires in my exploration of the menu so far--thick, leathery wrappers and almost no soup. The dipping sauce, though, is fantastic.
Speaking of soup, the hot and sour soup here is the best version I've tried anywhere, with lots of minced pork. And the tomato egg soup is marvelous--much more complex than I expected, yet still oddly comforting.
The chicken with hot red pepper and the Dong An chicken (named for a county in Hunan) are rather similar in overall effect. If choosing, it may come down to a question of bones: the former is small chunks on the bone, the latter boneless. Dong An chicken was an especially popular choice at a recent gathering there. As was farmer-style tofu: rectangles of firm tofu stir-fried with vegetables in a pleasantly spicy sauce.
I've certainly never had anything like the sliced cured pork with dry string beans and dry turnips before. All the ingredients are diced small and dry-fried with hot peppers, of course, and plenty of ginger. It makes for an interesting, surprisingly complex, concentrated flavor. Sauteed bok choy with preserved beans is one of the more unusual vegetable options here, and quite a tasty one. The also do an excellent version of shredded potatoes with vinegar sauce.
The only other dish I've tried so far that I would advise avoiding here is the "veal chop in casserole". I didn't actually expect what I think of as a veal chop, but I didn't exactly expect ribs (cut crosswise, à la Argentine tira de asado)--from what must have been a rather elderly calf--either. The meat was chewy and uninteresting, in an uncompelling sauce. At the above-mentioned gathering, it was left practically untouched.
Hunan Kitchen also has the great advantage of staying open late. The door says until 2 a.m., but upon inquiring it seems that midnight is closer to the truth. Still, a good place to know about for late-night eaters like me.
Hunan Kitchen of Grand Sichuan
42-47 Main St., Flushing
718-666-0553
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, then 6 blocks south on Main St.)
Perhaps my overall favorite Chinese restaurant in Flushing these days is the somewhat oddly-named Hunan Kitchen of Grand Sichuan. Generally wonderful, fiery food served in extremely pleasant surroundings... what's not to love?
I'm probably going to sound like a one-man PR department for this place, but with one or two exceptions--and I've tried a couple of dozen dishes here (less than a quarter of their huge menu)--I've loved everything I've tasted. Hunan food tends to be more straightforwardly spicy than that of neighboring Sichuan, the obvious cuisine for comparison. In fact, from what I've read, the Hunanese like to make fun of the Sichuanese liberal use of numbing Sichuan peppercorns--if you're going to eat hot peppers, why pussy-foot around? I must say I see their point, although I dearly love both approaches.
If asked, the helpful wait-staff will probably steer you towards the BBQ Fish, and they are not wrong. A whole tilapia arrives in a baking dish covered with diced potatoes and yams, scallion, ginger, garlic, roasted peanuts, and, of course, toasted dried red chili peppers. It's set atop a portable gas burner so it can bubble away as you eat it, and it's terrific. They also prepare duck and pig's foot this way--I think the BBQ pig's foot is perhaps even more successful as a dish than the fish (and that's saying something!), but it makes for pretty heavy eating... I don't think I'd want it in warm weather.
Equally good is the "big fish head in huge pot". You're given a choice, but get it spicy--you're at a Hunan restaurant, for god's sake! They don't exaggerate: a large carp's head arrives in a huge pot of broth spiked with pickled hot red peppers, and it simmers atop--you guessed it--a portable gas burner (practically every table in the place has at least one gas burner on it keeping something hot). When you're ready, the waitress will come by and dump a huge plate of vegetables and mung bean sheet noodles in. Probably the best "hot pot" I've ever had. And don't be put off by the "fish head" thing--carp's heads are surprisingly meaty.
Perhaps Hunan's most famous dish, here called "braised pork, Mao's style", is excellent. It was Chairman Mao's favorite dish, and he was said to have eaten it almost every day. Chunks of pork belly simmered in a sweet, spicy brown sauce. Even better, for my money, is an item not on the menu, but you should be able to get it by asking for the "pork leg dish like Mao's pork". Chunks of pork shoulder (one waitress kept insisting it was "leg" and not shoulder, but I know pork shoulder, and this is pork shoulder) braised in a complex brown sauce, not as sweet as Mao's pork, and with just enough red pepper to make it interesting. Served in a lovely mound surrounded by baby bok choy.
It's difficult to go wrong here. I've quite enjoyed all the cold plates I've tried: liquor-soaked duck (here the character 洒 in the Chinese name of the dish is more accurate: "sprinkled"), chicken with scallion and chili oil (not spicy--almost a pesto-feel to the sauce), and ox tongue and tripe in spicy pepper sauce (the meat is okay, but the sauce is the most complex and interesting of any version of this dish I've tried). The spicy cold noodles are reminiscent of their Sichuan counterparts, although the noodles here are a bit wider, and there is the bracing addition of a good dose of vinegar. Stay away from the soup dumplings--one of the only real misfires in my exploration of the menu so far--thick, leathery wrappers and almost no soup. The dipping sauce, though, is fantastic.
Speaking of soup, the hot and sour soup here is the best version I've tried anywhere, with lots of minced pork. And the tomato egg soup is marvelous--much more complex than I expected, yet still oddly comforting.
The chicken with hot red pepper and the Dong An chicken (named for a county in Hunan) are rather similar in overall effect. If choosing, it may come down to a question of bones: the former is small chunks on the bone, the latter boneless. Dong An chicken was an especially popular choice at a recent gathering there. As was farmer-style tofu: rectangles of firm tofu stir-fried with vegetables in a pleasantly spicy sauce.
I've certainly never had anything like the sliced cured pork with dry string beans and dry turnips before. All the ingredients are diced small and dry-fried with hot peppers, of course, and plenty of ginger. It makes for an interesting, surprisingly complex, concentrated flavor. Sauteed bok choy with preserved beans is one of the more unusual vegetable options here, and quite a tasty one. The also do an excellent version of shredded potatoes with vinegar sauce.
The only other dish I've tried so far that I would advise avoiding here is the "veal chop in casserole". I didn't actually expect what I think of as a veal chop, but I didn't exactly expect ribs (cut crosswise, à la Argentine tira de asado)--from what must have been a rather elderly calf--either. The meat was chewy and uninteresting, in an uncompelling sauce. At the above-mentioned gathering, it was left practically untouched.
Hunan Kitchen also has the great advantage of staying open late. The door says until 2 a.m., but upon inquiring it seems that midnight is closer to the truth. Still, a good place to know about for late-night eaters like me.
Hunan Kitchen of Grand Sichuan
42-47 Main St., Flushing
718-666-0553
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, then 6 blocks south on Main St.)
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