“Oooh they have Korean-style fermented skate,” my friend Chef Sung Kim said as she perused the menu at Jeunju in Mokja Golmok or Eater’s Alley, which surrounds the Murray Hill LIRR station. “I’ve never had it,” she said of the delicacy hongeo-hoe.
I’d been eating at the homestyle Korean restaurant ever since my pal John Choe turned me on to it and thought it was high time to turn my posse of food loving friends on to Chef Eunhae Bae’s wonderful takes on samgyetang, the Korean ginseng chicken soup that’s renowned as a tonic during the dog days of summer, and gamjatang, a hearty pork spine stew. Fermented fish was the furthest thing from my mind that summer evening, but not being a group to shy away from culinary challenges we took Sung’s lead and ordered the hongeo-hoe. After all, how bad could it be? (more…)
Elyse Pasquale digs into a Filipino balut in Woodside.
I’ve gone on record before as saying that I’m not a fan of the word foodie, preferring such designations as “good eater” and even the pejorative “glutton.” All that said there is one person who for whom my hatred of the F-Word does not apply, my good friend, Elyse Pasquale, aka Foodie International. She was kind enough to take time out of her busy schedule, which includes everything from eating reindeer hearts and scorpions to harvesting her own olive oil and slaughtering pigs, to answer Seven Questions.
Where did you learn to use chopsticks? In my bedroom, in high school. I grew up on a horse farm outside of Philadelphia. There wasn’t much diversity in the area when it came to food. In high school, a take-out Chinese joint opened in the same strip mall as our grocery store. Let’s just call it the year of Lo Mein . . . I was determined to perfect my chopsticks skills, so I followed the directions printed on the wrapper and practiced in my room. I think my execution might be a little unorthodox, but I can hold my own in any Tokyo ramen shop. For the record, I also tie my shoes counterintuitively, but my bows still turn out looking like bows. (more…)