Sang Kee Noodle

My son’s Char Shiu Mein

Happy New Year!

I’ve been very neglectful in my blogging this past year or two – perhaps a direct effect brought on by the fatigue of our ongoing COVID pandemic – so one of my resolutions for 2022 is to get back to it. So, here goes.

I was in Philadelphia recently. My son was competing at the US Junior Open Squash Tournament, which is apparently the largest international junior squash tournament in the world. It was held in several locations in Philadelphia but mainly in the triangle that is Drexel University, University of Pennsylvania, and the Arlen Specter Center (located on Drexel’s campus). Due to our schedule and lack of familiarity of the eateries in the area, we were limited to a Wawa, a local bagel spot (Spread Bagelry), a Shake Shack, The Coop (an American cuisine spot associated with The Study at University City Hotel), a Halal food truck, the concession at the Specter Center, and Sang Kee Noodle House.

Sang Kee is at 3549 Chestnut Street, in the lobby of the Sheraton Hotel where we stayed, and it was a welcome convenience. Having grown up in Hong Kong, admittedly, I can be very picky when it comes to Chinese food. Having been introduced to and loving, at a young age, noisy noodle shops in Causeway Bay, busy dim sum restaurants, the legendary Yung Kee Restaurant in Central, and dai pai dong (open-air food stalls) all over Hong Kong, I entered Sang Kee hesitantly.

We ate there for dinner on our first night and for lunch before returning to New Jersey on our last day. On our first night, we arrived at the hotel just before 6pm and we had to check-in, park the car, and get to the Specter Center to get our wristbands, verify my son’s entry, and get my coaching credential. After a long day of work, a two-hour drive in darkening, misty conditions, all I wanted to do was get something to eat and crash in our hotel room. The food at Sang Kee did much to soothe the senses.

With a menu boasting mainland Chinese, Hong Kong style, Taiwanese and, even, Korean dishes, I wasn’t so sure, at first, on the authenticity of Sang Kee’s food and whether I’d enjoy it the way I enjoy Chinese-American takeout or the way I enjoy some of the restaurants in New York’s Chinatown. As we scanned our menus, however, and food was being delivered to other tables, I felt that we were in for a treat. I’m glad to say I was right.

My son ordered Char Shiu Mein, which came in a generous bowl of soup, slices of roasted pork, bok choy, and thin yellow noodles like the noodle shops of my youth. I tried it and it brought me right back to summer lunches with my parents in Hong Kong working as an office boy. My wife ordered a Taiwanese dish, Braised Pork Belly over rice. I tasted that, too. As a foodie, I had to. The pork was tender and melted in your mouth and it balanced sweet and salty, almost like a Chinese Asado. Or, did Filipino cuisine steal asado, or at least the basis for it, from the Chinese? For me, I ordered the Char Shiu Faan, roasted pork and over white rice. It also came with bok choy and was completely satisfying in taste and simplicity – meat over rice. The only that would have made both my son’s and my dishes perfect was a drizzle of oyster sauce over the char shiu; the way I had these dishes served to me growing up in Hong Kong. I also ordered a bowl on Wonton Soup, which was the best of the lot.  Its flavour was perfectly balanced with the freshness and delicateness of the shrimp and the subtlety of the soup base. The wonton was so good, in fact, that for our farewell lunch I ordered Wonton Mein. My wife ordered a congee that she enjoyed and my son had the Char Shiu Mein again. We added a plate of extra char shiu and Taiwanese Soup Dumplings to top things off. The only things that would’ve made our two meals there near perfect would have been Tofu Fa (sweet, silky tofu in a light syrup) or Hung Tau Saa (Red Bean Soup).  There was Tsingtao in their menu, though. It’s hard to find where I live in New Jersey and, as someone who doesn’t really drink beer much or any alcohol for that matter, I do enjoy a cold Tsingtao when I can get it. Unfortunately, on our arrival meal, I was already so exhausted I was afraid it might knock me on my butt the next day and we were driving after our departure meal and, remember, one should never drink and drive.

My Wonton Mein. In the back, you can see what’s left of our plate of char shiu.

In previous years, the various national squash championships were spread out in different locations. In 2020, the middle school championships were held at Yale University. The US Junior Open in 2019 was at Harvard and MIT. With the Specter Center, all the US Squash (NGB of Squash in the USA) championship events will be held there from now on. What does that mean? More trips to Philadelphia, more stays at The Sheraton, and more meals at Sang Kee Noodle.

Thanks for stopping by.

Dim Sum Lament

22 October, 2020

Hi there!

First, I hope you’re safe and healthy. To those who have suffered and lost, I offer you my condolences and prayers. I hope things are getting better.

I guess it was a really busy year since my last post was in June 2019. Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way but, now that the coronavirus has limited our movements, hopefully I take a positive from that and get back to all of my writing pursuits in the way I’d like to.

The coronavirus has been the foremost event in our lives the last few months. In fact, it’s coming up to a year when we were first introduced to it and over seven months when we were locked down and I, as a teacher, began instructing remotely online. Like everyone, we’ve been vigilant in doing our part to help reduce the spread and keep ourselves (that’s my wife, son, and I) safe and healthy. Part of that vigilance has been in the form of cleaning our groceries, which there has been more of since we’ve been doing more cooking at home. As a foodie, I was already doing a lot of cooking at home but, due to the realities and demands of life and work, it wasn’t something I did on a daily.  Once lockdown hit, I was pretty much cooking everyday; sometimes lunch AND dinner from scratch. Somehow, I didn’t gain any weight.

By the time May rolled around, though, kitchen fatigue and palate malaise began to creep in. From March to May, I cooked up a storm. Dishes I usually prepared were served up regularly. I tried variations, too, changing an ingredient here or there but, as does happen, cravings started to develop; cravings for things we hadn’t had even enjoyed before the lockdown. With the lockdown, however, going to a restaurant was (and still is) out of the question. The idea of ordering take-away or delivery was also either unavailable or precarious, to say the least.

Eventually, restaurants started doing take-out only but it wasn’t until about late May or early June did we venture in that direction. Like I said, we’d been (and continue to be) vigilant and diligent in our precautions so it was the uncertainty of the virus and being extra careful that we took so long to join in the take-out/delivery options from our favourite local eateries. I mean, who’s to say that there wouldn’t be an errant virus cell that lives long on one of the packages and gets into our bodies? However, after reading more of the science and deciding on a food establishment that is already known for its all-around cleanliness, we decided to brave it and give it a go. Since then, we’ve been more open to ordering from and enjoying some of the restaurants and dishes we miss. At the start, we were probably back to ordering takeout once or twice a week or once every two weeks now that we had a system and trusted the science that says the coronavirus doesn’t appear to get transmitted through food. We’ve slowed down, though, as our cravings have largely been satisfied and because it can be expensive. We’ve ordered from one of our favourite delis. We’ve ordered diner breakfasts, Chinese takeout, ramen and other Japanese fare, Italian, Mediterranean, burgers, and once or twice from The Cheesecake Factory; all through our preferred food delivery app. It’s all been great and, like I said, a little costly but worth it.

In spite of this, however, there are still several cuisines and dishes that we have not been able to enjoy. There are dining experiences we miss as well but, hopefully sooner than later and safer than not,  we can start enjoying them again.  One of these was Indian. I love Indian food and our local spot is served by the app with use. We just recently treated ourselves. Lamb Korma and Saag Paneer have never tasted so good.

What I do have a super craving for, however, is dim sum. Sadly, there is no dim sum spot served by the app. I miss the taste and the smell. I miss the shiu man and har gau melting in my mouth and I long to suck the skin and meat (what little there is) off the bones when I eat fung chau. Our local Asian grocery store has a hot food section. It’s stopped making daily hot food, things like rice and fried fish, but it still sells packaged dim sum that is delivered from restaurants in New York City. While it would be better than nothing, it’s never quite the same as being at a dim sum restaurant on a weekend, mid-morning, and getting the dishes fresh, warm and steaming.

As much as the food itself, is the experience. I grew in Hong Kong so dim sum was a regular thing for my family and I. I miss the carts and the calling out between you and the person pushing the cart. I miss the clinking of chopsticks on the edge of bowls. Sipping bo lei and feeling the tea’s warmth settle you inside. To top it off, a bite of Sesame Ball with red bean filling and a warm bowl off Tofufa (sweetened tofu dessert). A bite of Egg Tart. Long before the pandemic hit us, our usual dim sum spot closed down. A sign on the door stated that the building, a free standing one, was not structurally sound and unsafe for occupation. That was a fifteen minute drive from home. We found an alternate spot, farther away, but I wonder how long it’ll be before we get to visit.

What do you miss eating?

Dinner at the new Duryea’s

It’s been a long time since I posted anything here but I think it’ll worth the wait. For those few of you who’ve been waiting for a new post, I apologise for the delay but you don’t have to wait any longer.

So, I’ve been to Duryea’s in Montauk, Long Island many times. Every time we come to Montauk, which we’ve done every summer since 2010 except for 2018 and 2016, we go there for one of our meals. The last time we visited Montauk, in 2017, the physical appearance had change into something more chic with canopies, wooden slat tables, an all-white attired service staff, electrical lights fixtures that I would faux candle. Instead of chic you must say shi-shi or pretentious but I would caution you not to judge a book by its cover. The staff, from the ladies who were to greet us, the wait staff, the Ronaldo lookalike who, I think, was the maitre d’ were all very welcoming and pleasant. In fact, with one of our dishes, our waiter went to the kitchen and found out exactly what was in the sauce since we couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Since I brought it up, it was a green romanesco sauce made with garlic, basil, and almonds. Yum.

This was our second visit to Duryea’s since the takeover of ownership and renovation but our first time going for dinner. We went early but it was still packed, as it always is. As part of the renovation, there is a bar next door and a shop where you can bide your time. At the bar you can grab a Lobster Roll or the like, if you don’t want to wait, but if you’re in for a proper sit down meal then, sorry, you’re going to have to wait. We opted to window shop – although my wife did end up purchasing a one-piece bathing suit made by an Italian designer that looks very good on her. As you enter the shop, prepare to get taken aback by the huge window that offers you a view of the bay. It is quite impressive.

Back to our meal, our son, who hasn’t developed a taste for seafood yet stuck with a cheeseburger and fries. As far as cheeseburgers go, however, the one at Duryea’s is really good. It’s a basic simple cheeseburger – bun, patty, cheese – and it was excellent. It came with fries that weren’t super greasy and tasted almost like truffle fries. If I ever go to Duryea’s and am not in the mood for seafood, the cheeseburger it is. I might throw in an order of corn on the cob for fun, too.

My wife and I shared two dishes – the Cobb Lobster Salad and the Grilled Octopus. The salad

Cobb Lobster Salad

was served generously in a large wooden bowl with plenty of greens and a substantial amount of lobster. It came dressed in a white dressing but not Ranch or Blue Cheese. I couldn’t make it out but it was tasty for sure. In addition to the romaine lettuce and lobster, the salad was garnished with small chunks of cheese, walnuts, small chunks of avocado, and pearl tomatoes.

 

The other dish we ordered came from the part of their menu with dishes they recommend are for two people. The Grilled Octopus dish is good for three. It’s three solid pounds of grilled tentacles and body that comes with assorted vegetables (mini potatoes, pearl tomatoes, an assortment of leaves, and tiny red peppers).

Grilled Octopus

The octopus was delicious and grilled perfectly. It wasn’t rubbery the way squid, shrimp, and scallops can become if they’re overcooked. In addition to the vegetable medley, it came with a Green Romanesco salsa. This is the sauce we couldn’t pinpoint and asked our waiter about.

The only criticism I have with the dish is that the vegetables were, at least for me, not enough to ‘cut’ the octopus. While delicious, by itself, the octopus can be overwhelming. I think the dish could benefit from a side portion of some kind of whole grain brown rice offering or a multi-coloured pasta salad. Other than that, I totally recommend you it.

As a starter, I tried their Clam Chowder. I’ve had the old Duryea’s Clam Chowder before the renovation. That version was more traditional – creamy soup with bits of clams, potato, celery. The new Duryea’s chowder is much thicker, yellow in appearance and is more potato bisque with clams. It was still good but lacked salt and a punch to make it memorable.

Overall, though, if you’re in Montauk, pay Duryea’s a visit. For traditionl shore town seafood, you can find the same stuff at other spots at cheaper prices. Duryea’s isn’t cheap but the food is worth it and so is the quaint locale. Moreover, it has items on the menu that you won’t find anywhere else. It’s not quite a hidden gem but it is secluded. Just make sure you have at least forty-five minutes to wait. That might sound like a put off but, trust me, it’ll be worth it.

Rating: 1 1/2 bites

0 bites = Don’t bother. I suffered for you.

1/2 bite = I enjoyed it enough – I had to eat something, after all – but I wouldn’t recommend it.

1 bite = Good. I’d have it again but I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to get it.

1 1/2 bites = Very good/super tasty. I’m definitely going back and I’m bringing friends. If I weren’t married, it’s somewhere I’d take a first date to. That’s how good it is.

2 bites = Unique, I’ve never had (and probably won’t ever have) better than this, this is what I’d want if I were going to be executed and I could have whatever I wanted for my last meal, Epicurean Orgasm!

————————-

Duryea’s Lobster Deck & Seafood Market

65 Tuthill Road, East Hampton, NY 11954

Tel: 631-668-2410

duryealobsters.com

 

Thank you, Chef

 (Photo courtesy of 8list.ph)

A Tribute To Anthony Bourdain

June 25, 1956 – June 8, 2018

I’d never met the man but I felt like I’d lost an old friend when I found out of his passing a week ago. I’d gotten to work, sat at my desk and went to Facebook on my iPhone. When I saw a post about his death, at first I was stunned then I hoped that it was a mistake or another hoax. Next, I felt the grief and tears wanted to flow out but I suppressed them just in case a student walked in and I had to explain myself. Gutted. Like a fish.. Such was the impact Anthony Bourdain had on us home-cooks. Well, this home-cook, anyway. He was a hero of mine. As a writer, chef and lover of life, Anthony Bourdain was on my list of people I would most like to meet and have a meal with. And for that meal, I’d suggest somewhere like a dampa in Baclaran or an outdoor food stall in Singapore. He was a people’s man, an everyman, who appealed to those like me who were a fan and never got to meet him. In interviews, in his shows and in his writing, he came across as a regular guy who could easily let the fame and fortune go and recall his roots. Maybe it was his love for New Jersey, his upbringing here that makes him endearing to me; another Jersey Boy. He came across, to me, as someone I could’ve known and shot the bull with at a friend’s house in Glen Ridge, side-by-side on Lifecycles at the gym I used to work in in West Caldwell, or at a bar in Asbury or Point Pleasant. He had his demons and vices but we all do and I hope and pray that he is now at a better place. I offer condolences, too, to his family and friends and I pray that they’re recovering in peace.

I read Kitchen Confidential in 2017, having purchased a copy around 2009, and it reinforced my affection and even idolatry of Chef Bourdain. It’s all about his early life as a chef and the things we don’t see behind the swinging double doors of the kitchen and it’s written with a candidness that makes the reader feel like he’s sitting with Bourdain and sharing stories over a beer. The beer, of course, would’ve been opened over the side of a folding table and drank straight from the bottle. As a book Kitchen Confidential is one of my favourite books I’ve ever read and offers a taste of how fascinating Bourdain was as a person and personality.

I’d heard about him but I didn’t truly discover Anthony Bourdain until I stumbled on a rerun of an episode of No Reservations when he goes to Singapore. It must’ve been late at night so when I saw Singapore and food, my attention was naturally piqued. As a foodie from Hong Kong – often referred to as Singapore’s ‘twin city’ – and a lover of a good Curry Shrimp and Chicken Rice, I watched the show with keen interest. I was also writing my own book, Back Kicks And Broken Promises, at the time and there’s a scene in it set in Newton Circus and several references to food so watching this particular episode also became a form of research. As much as I drooled over the food and longed, believe it or not, for the city’s humidity and the sounds of clanging woks and loud waiters yelling orders in Chinese, the show’s host also mesmerized me. Bourdain’s carefree attitude and yearning for a cold local beer to go with the local cuisine and who isn’t afraid to get messy and sweaty enjoying both turned me into an instant follower. Add to all that the fact the he loved Asian food, especially lechon (Filipino roast pig), made him even cooler.

More recently, I was a fan of The Taste, The Voice of cooking shows in which the contestants – professionals and home-cooks alike – prepare an audition dish and present it to the judges and, if selected, have to choose which coach is going to mentor them throughout the competition. More than once, my wife and friends suggested I audition but, as competent as I feel in the kitchen that I could maybe have offered something that would get me on a team, I don’t have the culinary skill to keep me on the team. So, I never applied. If you’re a fan of Bourdain, you know that he was one of the show’s producers and judges. Naturally, in my culinary fantasies, I would get on his team. (Although, Nigella Lawson, another culinary hero of mine, was also a judge and mentor so choosing a team might not have been so cut-and-dry. Haha!)

More than his culinary skill and knowhow and his status as a celebrity, Bourdain made the world a smaller place. Through his various travel food shows, he offered that top-notch food isn’t limited to Michelin-rated restaurants. There’s quality in a dive in the back woods of Korea or Vietnam and getting messy adds to the visceral joys of dining. He also opened the world’s eyes to the notion that food is more than what goes in someone’s mouth and, hopefully, tastes good while offering sustenance. He shared that food is culture and that people make food in more ways than by just putting the ingredients together. He reminded us that an essential ingredient in every dish is heart; the chef’s love for the food and the people for whom he is making it. He showed Filipinos celebrating Christmas, late-night eats in Thailand, pre-dawn markets in France. Outside of the food, he showed how the people live – their homes, their streets, their languages – and he was never afraid to get down and dirty.

Recently, over the last three or four years, there have been posts in Facebook and articles in The New York Times and other publications touting Filipino food as the next wave of food. In the 1980s, Japanese food had a global breakthrough in everyone’s culinary enjoyment. Sushi, sashimi, wasabi, miso and other Japanese words became part of the global culinary lexicon. A few years after that, Thai food and tapas made inroads. Various forms of fusion cuisine popped up everywhere next. Middle Eastern food also had its moment in the spotlight. So, too, did Korean food. Now, it’s the time for Filipino cuisine to shine. As an Asian American who is mostly Filipino, this is exciting, but I can’t help from feeling that Bourdain, thanks to the courage of his televised global gastronomy, had a hand in this.

Anthony Bourdain was a chef. He was a writer. He was a television star. He was a celebrity. He was the coolest. At his core, however, I think he was just a Jersey guy who loved food. He didn’t care who made it, where it was made and, even how it was made. The bottom line was that the dish should be full of flavour and make him feel something. Kind of like life. Kind of like him.

 

Asian Delight

Via Montebello, 66, Lazio, Rome, Italy. Tel: (06) 3249217715

While enjoying all of the freshly made Italian cuisine, by the fifth day of our Roman adventure, we – well, I, at least – began craving something different on our palates and by different, as an Asian and lifelong rice-eater, I mean rice and some kind of ulam (Tagalog for dish); something from home, like Adobo or Afritada, on top of steamed white rice or some deep-fried fish (the saltier the better, of course) served with sinangag (garlic fried rice).

So, to that end, I jumped online and searched for the nearest Asian restaurant. Originally, I searched for a Chinese spot; not craving for Japanese, Korean, Thai, Indian and not even thinking a Filipino joint would be anywhere nearby. I found several but, to be honest, I wasn’t sure, even with Google Maps, if they were easy to get to from our hotel. More importantly, I also had no way of knowing if the 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 star reviews some of these restaurants got were accurate or not. I was raised in Hong Kong. Gastronomically, that’s a blessing and a curse. Having lived in there for sixteen years and eaten some of the best Chinese food in the world, I’ve become a bit of a Chinese food snob. Sorry.

Anyway, back to the restaurant at hand.

Among the search results, there was a restaurant called Asian Delight. It got excellent reviews and was billed as “home cooking Filipino food.” That settled it. My wife and I widened our eyes and said, “Let’s go!” So, we put on our shoes and, with our son in tow, left the hotel and hailed a taxi. We told the driver “Via Montebello, sessantasei.” In minutes we were there and discovered that Asian Delight is actually only a few blocks and one roundabout from where we were staying, Hotel Quirinale on Via Nazionale. We hadn’t yet been in this neighborhood on this trip but our excitement levels escalated and we knew we were in for a treat when we saw a small Filipino flag flying at the eatery’s door.

Asian Delight is a small place with seven or eight booths lining the side walls and a small counter in the middle of the room. At the counter, are three stools probably for the solo diners. Directly opposite the door, sat Chris, a Filipino from Samar who has been living in Italy for six years. His Italian has a Filipino accent to it and his English has what almost amounts to a Portuguese one. (Is that what happens when Tagalog marries Italian? Hmm.) And Chris’s Italian sounds, well, Italian like how one of my ex-girlfriend’s father sounded when he and his sister talked in their native tongue at holiday meals.

Enticing customers like a carnival barker at the town fair (think Gordon McCrae in Carousel), Chris is as much entertainer as he is proprietor. He runs Asian Delight with his Kuya (Tagalog word for ‘older brother’) Betts in the kitchen and another cook, who in uncanny fashion resembles Manny Pacquiao, the boxing champ, congressman, and hero of The Philippines. Ironically and iconically, there is a large sketch print of Pacquiao on one of the side walls overlooking a corner booth.

Manny Pacquiao watches over the diners at Asian Delight

The menu at Asian Delight offers Chinese dishes and, of course, Filipino ones. We treated ourselves to some of the Filipino food and, to my son’s delight, there’s an entire section in the menu devoted to ‘egg rice.’ These are silog options; dishes like Tapsilog, Bangsilog, Ribsilog and, of course, his favourite, Longsilog. Basically, these are dishes made up of garlic fried rice (sinangag, hence the si), fried sunny side up egg (itlog means egg in Tagalog, hence the log) and some kind of meat. Tapsilog is beef tapa with garlic friend rice and fried egg. Bangsilog is the same but with fried bangus (white fish). Longsilog uses Filipino sausage called longanisa. The sinangag at Asian Delight is a little different than how I’ve had it at other restaurants. Most places and houesholds will fry chopped garlic and mix it into the rice in the frying pan. Some places will crown a lump of white rice with fried garlic. At others, the rice is browned in the frying process with browned garlic mixed in. At Asian Delight, it’s slightly browned with garlic mixed in but there are also slivers of sliced or ripped scrambled egg. This deviation from how sinangag is usually made was not an unpleasant twist.

Longanisa at Asian Delight, Rome, Italy

As for the Longsilog itself, Rome must have the brightest gold-coloured egg yolks around. Cooked perfectly with the yolk covered by a white sheen without being cooked solid, the egg oozed into the rice as my son sliced the egg and mixed the two together. It made me imagine what Filipino risotto might be like. The longanisa was sweet – a little too sweet than I’ve ever had – but it was softly cooked and offered a nice cut and blend with the saltiness of the rice and egg. The sausage was also skinless. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen skinless Filipino sausage but it was the first time I’ve tasted skinless Filipino sausage. To my son’s pleasure, it beats out the usual skinned sweet longanisa we eat in the US.

We also ordered a plate of Pork Dumplings.

Pork Dumplings with  a dish of hot sauce

They were tasty and didn’t make or break the meal but they weren’t anything that knocked our socks off. They were a basic meat dumpling like the kind you can find in the freezer section of your local Asian grocery store. I wouldn’t order them again but, if someone did, I wouldn’t turn them away and I’d even have one or two bites.

For the rest of the meal, we ordered Pork Sinigang (Tamarind Stew) (pictured below, left) and Lechon Kawali (deep fried pork belly) (pictured below, right). Before we go on, you should know that Filipinos like their dips and sauces. There’s toyo (soy sauce) with or without chili; suka (vinegar), with or without chili peppers; bagoong, a fish or shrimp paste; and Mang Tomas, a condiment often used for lechon (roasted pig) and other grilled or barbecued meats. I guess it could be considered a kind of Filipino barbecue sauce or meat-based mayonnaise of sorts. And then there’s patis, a fish sauce that is used in many different kinds of Asian cooking from Filipino to Thai to Vietnamese to Indonesian. Often used in the cooking, patis is also used as a dip or condiment however in most restaurants it’s not readily available to the customer. At Asian Delight, though, Chris gladly brought out a small dish of patis for my wife when she asked for it. As for how the two dishes tasted – delicious. Part of their tastiness might have been due to the my palate’s need for different stimulation than what I’d been getting. The sinigang and lechon kawali  weren’t any better – and they certainly weren’t worse – than any I’d had before but they were spot on and tasted just like home. The sinigang had a nice bite to it thanks to the green chili that was added, something that is common with this dish but not something we always do at home. The lechon kawali was tender and the pig skin crispy without being burnt or overdone.

Pork Sinigang

Lechon Kawali with a dish of Mang Tomas

During our meal, thanks to all the sharing we were doing (a normal part of our meals, as a family, and among Filipinos), my son’s two longanisa turned into one so we ordered a side dish of longanisa so he could round up and balance his ‘Filipino egg risotto’ with the meat. The side order came with three sausages on a plate which I thought was generous. Comparing it to our dining experiences in the US, we got one more sausage than we’d get, say, a our local diner if we’d ordered a side dish of a regular pork breakfast sausage.

To round out my meal, I ordered a beer. Asian Delight offers San Miguel and Red Horse, two staple brews from The Philippines.

Red Horse Beer, one of the staple brews from The Philippines

It’d been ages since I’d had a ‘San Mig’ so, naturally, I ordered one. Unfortunately, they were out of it so I settled for a Red Horse, which didn’t disappoint. For those of you who haven’t tried it, it’s akin to Heineken or Tsingtao.

My wife, giving a thumbs up to the beer and to Asian Delight

At the end of the meal, we promised Chris that we’d return and we did, the following night, after our excursion to Venice. Asian Delight closes at 10pm and we got there at 9:45pm. There were two customers left who were paying and Chris and company were starting to clean up and shut down. We were able to get an order to go and he threw in a free order of white rice. My wife ordered Pancit Canton Bihon, which is a Filipino-style Lo Mein with added rice or vermicelli noodles to the lo mein noodles. My son ordered Longsilog again and I went with the day’s special and one of my all-time favorite Filipino dishes, Kalderatang Kambing (Filipino goat stew).

There are other dishes on their menu, of course – Sisig, Adobo, Halo Halo, Leche Flan, Dinaguan and others – that we didn’t get to try but one doesn’t go to Rome to try Filipino food, after all. You can, though, bet your last Euro that the next time we’re in Rome (and we will be back because my son threw in only one coin into The Fountain of Trevi which, according to legend, means we’ll return) and we’re craving a different taste to our palates a trip to Asian Delight will be added to our itinerary.

Asian Delight’s name is spot on. The food definitely satisfied the change my taste buds needed and it did so at a reasonable price. The meal we had was around 30 Euros (about US$37), which is about the same we’d pay for the same meal at Pandan in Bloomfield, New Jersey. In addition to the tastiness of the food and the charm from our host, Chris, Asian Delight triggered memories, as food does, of summers in Manila and family meals in Hong Kong. The emotional and psychological warmth was more than welcomed and a pleasant surprise to our impromptu Filipino dinner. Being there, I was also offered the opportunity to speak a fifth language on our vacation and practice my Tagalog, which is functional but far from good. (In and around our trip, I’d already had the chances to speak English (which I speak fluently), Italian, French and Spanish – none of which I speak fluently but can manage in small doses and in a pinch.)

Chris was a joy to meet, as well, and the coziness of the place offers a certain intimacy, without ignoring personal boundaries, that made me feel like we – the various customers, even though we had our own meals and conversations, were all together enjoying the deliciousness of the natural fusion that is Filipino food and the happy, welcoming charm that is the Filipino spirit. So, for anyone who needs a change of pace from the deliciousness of Italian cuisine but, especially, for my fellow Filipinos, do pay Asian Delight a visit if you find yourself in Rome. You won’t be disappointed. Oh, and say “hi” to Chris for me.

Rating: 1 1/2 bites

0 bites = Don’t bother. I suffered for you.

1/2 bite = I enjoyed it enough – I had to eat something, after all – but I wouldn’t recommend it.

1 bite = Good. I’d have it again but I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to get it.

1 1/2 bites = Very good/super tasty. I’m definitely going back and I’m bringing friends. If I weren’t married, it’s somewhere I’d take a first date to. That’s how good it is.

2 bites = Unique, I’ve never had (and probably won’t ever have) better than this, this is what I’d want if I were going to be executed and I could have whatever I wanted for my last meal, Epicurean Orgasm!

 

Filipino Rock Salt

29 January, 2012

For the most part, and I’m a home-cook foodie, dishes never really taste the same as the first time you eat them – nor should they – and more often than not, they never taste as good as that first time either. This, however, could be due to a psycho-emotional reason and not due to palate or taste. That’s not to say I’ve never had anything that was better some place else or made by someone else from the first time I tasted it but when it comes to a traditional Filipino breakfast it’s never quite right unless Filipino rock salt is used in cooking the eggs.

Before we go on, for those of you who aren’t familiar with what a traditional Filipino breakfast is, here’s the scoop. Very simply, it’s fried egg (itlog) over rice (kanin), which can be everyday steamed white rice or fried with garlic (sinangag). All of that is usually eaten with some kind of meat. In some cases bacon or Spam™ will make a Filipino very happy but what will make us really giddy is if the egg and rice are served with longanisa (Filipino sausage), tocino (sweet, cured pork), or tapa (Filipino beef jerky). Tapa is also referred to as beef tapa, which is sliced sirloin that has been cured with kalamansi, toyo (soy sauce), sugar and garlic. Each variation of a traditional Filipino breakfast has its own name depending on the combination; its name derived from its parts. For example, the version with sausage is referred to as longsilog.

Longsilog with plain white rice

The one with tocino is called tosilog and, you’ve probably guessed it, the beef jerky version is called tapsilog. In the 1980s, at The Intercontinental Hotel in Makati, at their lobby restaurant called The Jeepney, there was even a version that served breakfast with fried pieces of pork adobo. Fried bangus (Milkfish) is also an option. If you’re ever ordering a Filipino breakfast, just make sure you specify what kind of rice you want – garlic or plain – but, going by their names and I concur, sinangag is the preferred choice. Finally, you eat all of it with any or all of the following sides/condiments: vinegar; vinegar with hot peppers; Jufran™ (banana catsup), and atchara (pickled papaya).

A weekend family breakfast. Three orders of ‘egg rice.’ Notice the bottle of Jufran™ in the middle. 

Okay, so back to the salt. Living on the United States’ east coast, the term ‘rock salt’ makes one think of ten or twenty-five pound bags piled high outside the local ShopRite or Home Depot with the words printed in bold across their front. It conjures up images of clanging trucks driving by and spraying salt pellets onto the blacktop roads. In The Philippines, however, the term ‘rock salt’ refers to salt used in cooking that’s big and even crunchy. In appearance and feel, rock salt looks like Pop Rocks. The morsels don’t always dissolve –which is the best part – and the taste is strong and earthy. It’s a taste all its own and one you don’t get with the fine iodized salt we all have in our pantries.

Over the years, I’ve tried to find it here in the United States. Even venturing to the various Filipino and other Asian supermarkets I know of doesn’t always yield positive results. Moreover, the rock salt is often on the dearer side of things and that’s if they have it. On two recent occasions when friends went home to The Philippines for holiday, I asked if they could bring some back for me. One of them managed to, procuring a small bag (about 1kg) that I used sparingly. A couple of years later, when my 1kg bag was close to finished, another friend tried but her bag of rock salt, which I think was significantly larger than 1kg, was confiscated at the airport. I wonder if they thought my friend was smuggling, very openly, some strange-looking kind of cocaine. Joke lang.* Talking with friends about this – Filipino and Fil-Am friends and non-Asian friends – they suggested I try sea salt. So I did but I wasn’t totally satisfied. It wasn’t big or crunchy enough. As a seasoning and flavour enhancer, it was sufficient. As a substitute for Filipino rock salt, it was less than.

More recently, however, I discovered a new product in the salt aisle at my supermarket. Something compelled me to pick it up and shake it. When the salt rattled inside the canister, I smiled. I took a chance and bought it and the next opportunity I had to make a Filipino breakfast, I used it. I wasn’t disappointed. It looked, felt and tasted like Filipino rock salt. After I broke the egg and watched the yolk ooze into the rice and mixed the two together, I took a spoonful into my mouth and I was sent back forty years to our home in Pasay. I was eight or nine, maybe ten, and having longsilog with a glass of very sweet black Sanka™. (My coffee, of course, was in the empty and washed narrow glass container that was the previous jar of Sanka™ my grandparents had.) Thanks to this new salt product, I was in food heaven! I can’t say that this new product tastes exactly like Filipino rock salt but it’s as close as you’re going to get. Filipino rock salt crystals are also larger but, again, so far, this is the closest I’ve found.

And what is this new product? It’s Morton™ Coarse Mediterranean Sea Salt.

The great discovery! Morton™ Coarse Mediterranean Sea Salt. 

Yes, sea salt but coarse and from The Mediterranean. I haven’t made sinangag with it yet but I will for sure and I can’t wait to taste and feel the crunch when I have a bite. So, fellow transplanted Filipinos and Fil-Ams, when you’re in a pinch (pun intended, siempre naman!**) and in need of a quick fix that only Filipino rock salt will give you but don’t have any, give this product a try. You’ll be glad you did. Oh, and just for the record, I don’t work for or have any connection with the Morton™ company. I’m just a Fil-Am writer and teacher who’s excited that he’s found the taste of his youth in something that’s new and, more importantly, easily accessible.

Now, if I could only buy Baguio cooking oil in America, I’d really be in home-cook foodie heaven. Thanks for stopping by.

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* Lang is a Tagalog word that can be translated to ‘just’ or ‘only.’ It implies a lessening of severity or seriousness from what was actually said. “Joke lang” is a common Filipino phrase that equates to “just kidding.”

** Siempre is Tagalog for ‘naturally’ or ‘of course.’ Naman is a word used for emphasis.