Coimbra Restaurant is one of those places I've been meaning to write about for years, but just haven't got around to it until now (finally remembering to bring my camera helped provide some impetus). Named for Portugal's most famous university town in the middle of the country, it has the reputation of being one of the most authentic Portuguese joints in Newark, and from what I can tell, that reputation is most likely deserved.
I've eaten here at least a dozen times and have hardly had a disappointing meal (maybe one - a stellar record by any standard). For one thing, I do as I would in any restaurant in Portugal: order from the pratos do dia (daily specials) only. They're made specially that day, and are almost invariably more interesting dishes than those on the standard menu. Tonight I got borrego assado, oven-roasted lamb. In fact, mutton would, I believe, be the more accurate word, but don't be put off by the idea - it was delicious. Chunks of meat (on the bone, of course) pan-roasted slowly with white wine, paprika, bay leaf, plenty of garlic, and... lard! Accept no substitutes - it's what gives the dish its absolutely unmistakable "taste of Portugal" (specifically, the mountains and the northern regions).
I especially love the rib meat, and there's a nice chunk of it right there in front. And next to the dish, you can see the full-to-the-brim, 12 oz. glass of a quite decent Portuguese table wine that sets you back all of five bucks here. This dish is normally served with small, roasted potatoes, but luckily I remembered to ask about arroz de feijão. It's a traditional accompaniment to grilled, stewed, and roasted meats, and one of my most beloved Portuguese comfort foods. They pretty much always have it here, and it was cheerfully substituted for the potatoes. It's simply rice cooked with kidney beans, plus a bit of onion and tomato for flavor. One of those dishes that is somehow more than the sum of its parts.
This meal prompted me to ask just where the people doing the cooking were from. "Portugal," was the reply. "Well, yes, but WHERE in Portugal?" The answer confirmed my suspicions: the Serra da Estrela mountain region (which is due east of... Coimbra). No wonder the food was so very tasty - people do NOT cook this way in Lisbon, where I lived.
One of the handful of items from the regular menu I would recommend is the chouriço na brasa appetizer. It's hefty length of good chouriço, made by a local Portuguese butcher, grilled in front of you over flaming aguardiente in a traditional terra cotta dish designed specifically for that purpose. Only if you have someone to share it with, though - it's big, and the main dishes are huge. And one small caveat: do not expect wonderful vegetables here. Cabbage and greens are about the only ones the Portuguese consistently get right... those green beans were terrible.
I've only ever been here on weeknights, and only eaten in the (ample) bar area. On weekends, I understand this place becomes a different scene altogether, with the adjoining dining room full of families all day long. I need to check it out, though, because that's when they tend to have all my real favorite daily specials. Dishes such as leitão à Bairrada (roast suckling pig, Bairrada-style, one of the glories of Portuguese cooking - actually, they supposedly have it all week, but it will be freshly-roasted on the weekend), galinha em arroz de cabidela (my favorite Portuguese dish - see my description of it here), even sarrabulho, or so I'm told (chunks of pork, served with seasoned rice finished with pork blood). So who wants to meet out there and help me try things some weekend?
Coimbra Restaurant
637 Market St., Newark, NJ 07105
973-491-9811
(from Newark Penn Station, walk 14 blocks east on Market St. - 15 minutes)
http://www.coimbrarestaurant.com/
Friday, September 20, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
天津餡餅 (Tianjin Xian Bing)
For a couple of years now, one of my favorite Flushing snacks has been the stuffed bǐng from 天津餡餅 (Tianjin Xian Bing) at the Golden Shopping Mall. The stall is not downstairs in the "food court", but up at street level, with a window that opens out on Main St. The energetic proprietor definitely seems to know what he's doing - he's opened another stall downstairs that offers a wide variety of Tianjin-style dumplings and cold prepared dishes, and I must say, they all look delicious.
Xiàn bǐng (餡餅) is essentially a pancake that has been stuffed with minced meat, then cooked on a griddle. In addition to the three types of xiàn bǐng - beef, pork, and lamb - they have other snacks, such as scallion pancakes, but I tend to get there late enough in the day that things are rather picked over, so I don't quite recall just what else they make.
(I THINK the yellow thing in the bottom right corner is stuffed with chicken, which would make it a first cousin to the Portuguese salgado pastry coxa de galinha, a kind of drumstick-shaped empanada.)
I can attest, though, that all three varieties of xiàn bǐng are delicious, but only because last night I was finally able to snag a lamb bǐng (yáng ròu xiàn bǐng - 羊肉餡餅). This seems to be the most popular kind, since literally EVERY time I have asked for one in the past (which is every single visit), they were sold out. It's pretty great, though the pork and beef are hardly less great.
The filling is delicately-seasoned minced meat, with just a bit of minced carrot and scallion. A small meal for two bucks.
天津餡餅 (Tianjin Xian Bing)
41-28 Main St., Flushing 11355
(7 train to Flushing-Main St., then 3 blocks south on Main)
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
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.)
Sunday, September 8, 2013
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.)
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
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
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
Thursday, June 20, 2013
City Island
Sometimes, you just want to be somewhere else besides New York City, although you happen to be in it. And sometimes, you just want to chow down on some fried fishy bits. When those two urges coincide, I advise heading to City Island and eating at Johnny's Reef.
Johnny's is basically an old-fashioned fry shack kicked up a notch or two. They fry fish and seafood, and they do it well. There's also a raw bar (excellent clams) and a bar that serves cheap, STRONG drinks, the kind you haven't seen on offer in 30 years (Planter's Punch, anyone?). The quality is great, and the prices are reasonable. What more is there to say?
The fried scallops and the fried fish filets are the must-haves for me here. Those fried calamari were good, too. And their fried clam strips taste like clam strips used to taste.
It's very informal – everything is sold cafeteria-style, and there's some indoor seating. But go when the weather is nice and sit at the picnic tables outside where there's a gorgeous view of Long Island Sound, with the Throg's Neck Bridge and parts of the almost-forgotten metropolis of New York City in the distant background.
Johnny's Famous Reef Restaurant
2 City Island Ave., Bronx 100464
718-885-2086
website
(6 train to Pelham Bay Park, then take the Bx29 bus to the end of the line)
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Lao Dong Bei (老东北風味), pt. 2
Lao Dong Bei (老东北風味) has held its undisputed place as my favorite restaurant in Flushing for over 6 months now, and, after trying yet another stellar dish this evening, I realized it's time for a new post.
Another delightful little freebie made its appearance tonight: green beans pickled with a bit of carrot and garlic, with what is essentially kimchi. A bit spicy, but only just enough to tickle the taste buds:
I always find it interesting to try to guess from the name of the dish whether it's going to be "dry" or in some sort of sauce. When I ordered Hot & Spicy Ribs (xiāng là xiǎo zhū pái - 香辣小猪排), I somehow just assumed it would be simmered in a sauce. So, I was a little surprised when this came out:
The surprise, however, was by no means an unpleasant one. Chunks of pork spareribs were fried until just crispy on the outside, moist and tender on the inside, with dried red chili peppers, ginger, scallion, and garlic (and, if I'm not imagining it, a hint of cumin). They were then tossed with whole roasted peanuts and cilantro stems. The result, as with any great dish, is more than the sum of its parts. I thought the dish was balanced perfectly: every time I wanted a contrast to the pork, I had a few peanuts, and the cilantro stems were the perfect aromatic counterpoint and just-different-enough kind of crunch to hold ones interest completely. The amounts of each at the end turned out to be exactly right.
On the menu, there is a misprint of one letter in the name "Fresh Fish in Hot Bean Pasta", but it’s an important difference: it should be "Hot Bean Paste" (dòu bàn huó zé yú - 豆瓣活鰂魚, the fish in question, 鰂魚, being tilapia). Most versions of this dish I've had come out red with chili... this one, as you can see, is all brown, and barely spicy.
No matter – it’s a rich, satisfying, earthy flavor. And the tilapia, naturally, is done perfectly.
If the gauge is "number of times ordered", my favorite dishes here are Baby Cabbage with Meatball Soup and the Chicken in Orange Flavor (chén pí jī - 陳皮雞). Chén pí (陳皮) is literally "dried tangerine peel" (often used medicinally in China), and that is exactly what is used. While the sauce is sweet, the bitterness of the dried tangerine peel - and the zing of the dried red pepper - perk up the flavor considerably, eliminating completely the danger if it becoming cloying. Although it's an overused word in food writing, "addictive" - it least when it comes to me - is the right word here.
There's another "orange" dish on the menu here, one of which the establishment is quite proud, Fried Pork in Orange Sauce (guō bāo ròu - 鍋包肉). This seems to be a classic northern Chinese dish (other northern Chinese restaurants in Flushing offer it, like Spicy Road), but its character is quite different from the above chicken dish. No tangerine peel, for one thing, and no hot peppers - the sweet, sticky sauce is similar, though, subtly flavored with orange and ginger. My Chinese vocabulary guru Audrey tells me that guō bāo means that the meat (ròu) has been marinated with rice wine, salt and chicken stock before deep-frying. Which seems entirely plausible. An excellent dish, however it's done.
Another northern classic, jiān jiāo gān dòu fǔ (尖椒乾豆腐 - Dry Bean Curd with Hot Pepper), is, I think, on the menu at every northern restaurant in Flushing. Lao Dong Bei's is as good as any version around:
Hóng shāo ròu (紅燒肉 - Braised Pork) is another pork dish with yet a completely different character. Hóng shāo refers to a dish that is simmered in soy sauce and sugar (there's usually some star anise in there, too) – it means, literally, "red-cooked". A classic preparation and a wonderful way to cook pork belly. It's divine comfort food. (Pardon the reflective glare... STILL getting the hang of the picture-taking thing.)
I've had a small spate of experiences lately where I have been made to feel like a rather unwelcome outsider at some Chinese restaurants around NYC (this is often a problem at Fujianese restaurants, but certainly not limited to them). So it delights me to be able to tell you that the charming hostess - the wife of the chef - appears, even though her English is quite limited, genuinely pleased that you are dining in their establishment. And the invariably excellent food makes you pleased you're dining there, as well.
Now open until midnight - a welcome development for someone of my nocturnal habits.
Lao Dong Bei (老东北風味)
44-09 Kissena Blvd., Flushing, NY 11355
718-539-4100
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, south on Main St. to Kissena, veer left, then 6 more blocks)
Another delightful little freebie made its appearance tonight: green beans pickled with a bit of carrot and garlic, with what is essentially kimchi. A bit spicy, but only just enough to tickle the taste buds:
I always find it interesting to try to guess from the name of the dish whether it's going to be "dry" or in some sort of sauce. When I ordered Hot & Spicy Ribs (xiāng là xiǎo zhū pái - 香辣小猪排), I somehow just assumed it would be simmered in a sauce. So, I was a little surprised when this came out:
The surprise, however, was by no means an unpleasant one. Chunks of pork spareribs were fried until just crispy on the outside, moist and tender on the inside, with dried red chili peppers, ginger, scallion, and garlic (and, if I'm not imagining it, a hint of cumin). They were then tossed with whole roasted peanuts and cilantro stems. The result, as with any great dish, is more than the sum of its parts. I thought the dish was balanced perfectly: every time I wanted a contrast to the pork, I had a few peanuts, and the cilantro stems were the perfect aromatic counterpoint and just-different-enough kind of crunch to hold ones interest completely. The amounts of each at the end turned out to be exactly right.
On the menu, there is a misprint of one letter in the name "Fresh Fish in Hot Bean Pasta", but it’s an important difference: it should be "Hot Bean Paste" (dòu bàn huó zé yú - 豆瓣活鰂魚, the fish in question, 鰂魚, being tilapia). Most versions of this dish I've had come out red with chili... this one, as you can see, is all brown, and barely spicy.
No matter – it’s a rich, satisfying, earthy flavor. And the tilapia, naturally, is done perfectly.
If the gauge is "number of times ordered", my favorite dishes here are Baby Cabbage with Meatball Soup and the Chicken in Orange Flavor (chén pí jī - 陳皮雞). Chén pí (陳皮) is literally "dried tangerine peel" (often used medicinally in China), and that is exactly what is used. While the sauce is sweet, the bitterness of the dried tangerine peel - and the zing of the dried red pepper - perk up the flavor considerably, eliminating completely the danger if it becoming cloying. Although it's an overused word in food writing, "addictive" - it least when it comes to me - is the right word here.
There's another "orange" dish on the menu here, one of which the establishment is quite proud, Fried Pork in Orange Sauce (guō bāo ròu - 鍋包肉). This seems to be a classic northern Chinese dish (other northern Chinese restaurants in Flushing offer it, like Spicy Road), but its character is quite different from the above chicken dish. No tangerine peel, for one thing, and no hot peppers - the sweet, sticky sauce is similar, though, subtly flavored with orange and ginger. My Chinese vocabulary guru Audrey tells me that guō bāo means that the meat (ròu) has been marinated with rice wine, salt and chicken stock before deep-frying. Which seems entirely plausible. An excellent dish, however it's done.
Another northern classic, jiān jiāo gān dòu fǔ (尖椒乾豆腐 - Dry Bean Curd with Hot Pepper), is, I think, on the menu at every northern restaurant in Flushing. Lao Dong Bei's is as good as any version around:
Hóng shāo ròu (紅燒肉 - Braised Pork) is another pork dish with yet a completely different character. Hóng shāo refers to a dish that is simmered in soy sauce and sugar (there's usually some star anise in there, too) – it means, literally, "red-cooked". A classic preparation and a wonderful way to cook pork belly. It's divine comfort food. (Pardon the reflective glare... STILL getting the hang of the picture-taking thing.)
I've had a small spate of experiences lately where I have been made to feel like a rather unwelcome outsider at some Chinese restaurants around NYC (this is often a problem at Fujianese restaurants, but certainly not limited to them). So it delights me to be able to tell you that the charming hostess - the wife of the chef - appears, even though her English is quite limited, genuinely pleased that you are dining in their establishment. And the invariably excellent food makes you pleased you're dining there, as well.
Now open until midnight - a welcome development for someone of my nocturnal habits.
Lao Dong Bei (老东北風味)
44-09 Kissena Blvd., Flushing, NY 11355
718-539-4100
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, south on Main St. to Kissena, veer left, then 6 more blocks)
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