When I was a kid the old man would return from Chinatown laden with hong bao, lucky red shopping bags. Usually these were filled with dried mushrooms, superior soy sauce and other ingredients. There treats were for me and him—lo mai gai, packets of sticky rice—and treats of a sort for my Mom, notably congee.(more…)
“I don’t even come here for knishes any more,” a gentleman I shared a table with at Knish Nosh said to me yesterday. “I come for her cooking,” he said of Chef Ana Vasilescu, who makes killer perogies among other specialties. I had come for a bowl of matzo ball soup.
“Better than my mother’s,” my new friend remarked of the classic Jewish restorative. “Mine too,” I thought, remembering that I don’t have a Jewish mother. Then I noticed two golden brown patties next to his soup. “Are those latke?” I asked. (more…)
The Central Asian cousin of Taiwanese beef noodle soup.
Rego Park is home to so many kosher Uzbeki kebab joints that local friends and I joke that they’re all more or less the same restaurant, just with different specialties, and/or slightly surlier service. The latest entrant into the neighborhood’s crowded field of more than a dozen restaurants is a rather opulent looking establishment (think flocked Louis XIV wallpaper and chandeliers) called U Yuri Fergana. (more…)
Mamu’s roat det has an incredible depth of flavor.
There’s been such a renaissance of Thai cuisine in Queens that it’s sometimes hard to keep track of the players. Which is why I’m very glad my friend Connie asked me to lunch at Mamu Thai. I’ve been meanng to try the Astoria eatery, which got its start as a noodle truck for at least six months. We ate enough for a small army of Thai truckers that humid afternoon, but there are two dishes that stood out:one, a beguiling beef noodle soup, and the other a not-so-simple off-menu omelet. (more…)
Ever since I was a kid I’ve been hearing about the Automat, Horn and Hardart’s, much tastier precursor to today’s fast-food chains. I’m quite sure I would have loved putting a nickel or a dime in the slot and opening the door to reveal a piece of pie, or a Swiss cheese sandwich, or a slab of meat loaf and gravy. The other night I was excited to learn that there used to be an Automat in Flushing, Queens. I am perhaps even more excited for a new film by my friend Lisa Hurwitz called The Automat. It chronicles the chain’s rise and fall. Enjoy the trailer. Don’t blame me if it makes you want to sport a fedora and grab a grilled cheese from behind a wall of magic little doors.
I have a confession to make. Until this past Mardi Gras, I’d never eaten chicken and waffles. Oh yeah, and, every now and then I get a jones for White Castle. And I used to work there. I guess that’s three confessions. It’s been at least a year since I paid a visit to my local White Castle, but when I saw a poster for the new chicken and waffle sandwich, I knew I’d be stopping by soon. Had I not eaten a rather large Sri Lankan lunch, I would have tried this exercise in comfort food excess immediately. “Imported from Belgium,” the copy promised presumably referring to the waffles, not the chicken. Today I decided to try out the slider king’s entry into the comfort food mashup market. (more…)
The combination of the bone chilling dampness and a lingering cold have been conspiring to turn C+M into a soup blog. Last week I found myself at Bella Roza, a Rego Park pizzeria turned samsa and Uzbek bread bakery. “Do you have soup?” I asked the grandmotherly woman behind the counter who looked at me quizzically. “Lagman?” I said reaching into the fevered recesses of my brain to recall that I once heard that they serve the hand-pulled beef noodle soup. “Ah yes,” she said with a glimmer of recognition in her eye. I took a seat and dipped some crusts of bread into Bella Roza’s excellent hot sauce as I waited for my soup. (more…)
These thick-skinned beauties are perfect on a winter’s day.
At the end of the day momos are just beef dumplings and I will never ever get as excited about them as folks from the Himalayan diaspora do. There are now more than a dozen restaurants and four food trucks in Jackson Heights that serve them. Momos are to Tibetans and Nepalese as hamburgers are to Americans—a national dish that evokes gatherings with family and friends. “What’s the big deal about a hamburger?” I imagine a Tibetan saying. “It’s just two pieces of bread with ground beef in between.” But enough momo musing. I’m here to tell you I’ve discovered a momo that is the very essence of winter comfort food: the kothe momo. (more…)
I live to discover the delicious in unexpected corners of Queens, whether it’s a Tibetan restaurant in the back of a cell phone store or a Malaysian joint in Flushing with a graveyard shift specializing in kari laksa. So when I heard about Mu Ramen, Joshua Smookler’s nighttime popup inside of a Long Island City bagel store, I was especially intrigued.
The scene inside Mu Ramen on Saturday night.
So I set out for Bricktown Bagel & Café on a night that was indeed quite brick. Joining me on the frigid Saturday after Thanksgiving was my pal William who knows a thing or two about Japanese food. The first thing that surprised me was that Mu’s chef, Joshua Smookler, was Asian. What’s not so surprising about the Korean-American chef with the decidedly non-Korean name is that he has a monomaniacal fascination with ramen. (more…)
Knish Nosh’s perogies are pure Eastern European comfort food.
Sixty-year-old Knish Nosh is best known for its namesake old school New York City snack. The Forest Hills shop sells seven varieties of hand-rolled potato knishes, including sweet potato, broccoli, and mushroom. As much as I love the knishes, come late fall I like to snack on one of Knish Nosh’s lesser known, but heartier potato products: perogies. The hefty packages smothered in caramelized onions taste like they were cooked up on the stove of an Eastern European grandmother. That grandmother would be Romanian-born Ana Vasilescu, who prepares spinach and potato varieties ($2.50) as well as ones packed with brisket ($2.50). I prefer potato, but when especially hungry I get brisket. I have yet to try the spinach version, but I am sure it’s only a matter of time before my adopted Romanian grandmother tells me to eat my vegetables.
Knish Nosh, 100-30 Queens Blvd., Forest Hills, 718-897-5554