05/06/13 12:30pm
WF-FU-RUNRIB4

These lamb ribs are the stuff of your dreams.

“Oh, it’s so good that I friggin dream about it,” my pal enthused to me about the Muslim lamb chop ($21.95) at Fu Run. “Yeah right, I thought to myself,” filing his rave about this Dongbei joint’s lamb dish away in the back of my mind. And then one day I finally broke down and tried it. It is spectacular in many, many ways. For one thing it is not a lamb chop but rather a whole rack, butchered in what I guess would be called country style.

Imagine a mad chef-scientist turning his attention to American Chinese pork spare ribs. Naturally he’d replace lamb with pork since it’s so much tastier. Then he’d braise it, roll it in spices, and deep fry it. The crunchy spice-studded exterior encases red-tinged meat and bits of snow-white fat, all packed with wonderful lamb flavor. An order of tiger vegetables ($5.95), a cool tangle of cilantro and hot peppers shot through with teeny salty shrimp, is a welcome foil to all that rich meat.

Fu Run, 40-09 Prince St, Flushing, 718-321-1363

03/07/13 1:08pm
It's the pescatarian response to the Muslim lamb chop.

It’s the pescatarian response to the Muslim lamb chop.

PLEASE NOTE THIS RESTAURANT IS CLOSED

It’s a good thing I don’t have a cumin allergy. Otherwise I’d never be able to enjoy the many delicious Dongbei dishes that liberally employ the spice. Perhaps the most famous is a meaty marvel that goes by the name Muslim lamb chop. It is an entire rack of lamb that’s been braised, deep fried and then rolled in cumin, black and white sesame seeds, and hot pepper. And it is spectacular. The other night at Rural I learned there is a fish version.

All the crunch of a potato chip with one million times the cumin.

All the crunch of a potato chip with one million times the cumin.

Cumin flounder ($15.99) lands on the table coated in plenty of its namesake spice, plus a copious amount of chilies. Gawk at it for a moment and Instagram if you must, but then let the waitress cut up into rectangles using a spoon. Crunch into it while it’s still hot. Each swatch of flounder is perfectly fried. In addition to cumin there are pickled chilies lending a nice flavor to what I’ve come to think of as a Dongbei potato chip of sorts.

 Rural, 42-85 Main St., Flushing, 718-353-0086

03/05/13 10:15am
The Chinese name translates to noodle hat, but there are no noodles to be found in this cold soup.

The Chinese name translates to noodle hat, but there are no noodles here.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about Dongbei cuisine, which got me to thinking about Minzhongle, a bygone Flushing spot. Like most Dongbei places the Korean influence was evident on the menu with dishes like naeng myun. The refreshing cold Korean noodles in an icy beef broth, are one of my favorite things to eat come summertime.

So when I saw “special Korean cold noodles” on the menu at Minzhongle, I had to find out just what was so special about this $17.99 bowl of noodles. Minzhongle is closed but the dish whose Chinese name translates to “noodle hat,” remains one of the strangest things I’ve ever eaten. For one thing there were no noodles in the icy beef broth. It did however contain the standard slice of beef shin. It also had many things which seemingly have no business being in a cold noodle soup. There was practically an entire produce stand’s worth of fruit in the bowl: watermelon, grapes, oranges, strawberries, and Korean pears. It was as if someone had spilled a quart of naeng myun broth into a fruit salad. To this day it remains one of the strangest things I’ve ever eaten.