Tag: new york

New York celebrity chef Hooni Kim marries Korean flavors to local ingredients
Hooni Kim, Michelin-starred chef of Danji and Hanjan restaurants in New York City, sees the marriage of Korean food culture with American food culture as Korean flavors married to local ingredients. At this time, one can’t be a “locavore” and make authentic Korean cuisine in the States.
I met up with him while covering the Korean Sensation Culinary Contest on Oct. 26 at The Culinary Institute of America at Greystone campus in the heart of California’s wine country, Napa Valley. He was one of the celebrity chefs judging entries from five student finalists in the competition, hosted with the help of the Korea Agro Fisheries & Food Trade Corporation (aka aT center).
“I define Korean cuisine as traditional flavors applied to local ingredients,” he told me during an interview that morning. “Certain ingredients you cannot get here (in America), such as gochugaru or doenjang. Then I apply it to local ingredients. I can get cabbage in Korea, but it’s better from New York or Napa — wherever you are from. Korean beef and American beef are very different, but it is still Korean food.”
Chef Hooni Kim says Hi to Joe McPherson and ZenKimchi readers. (Tammy Quackenbush photo)
Kim has an interesting way of explaining the difference between Korean food and American food: the “flavor profile.”
“I think Korean food is more dynamic because it uses flavors like spice, salt, etc.” he said. “They (Koreans) go all out, whether it’s salty, spicy or umami. You can experience all these flavors. It’s exciting to your palate. It needs to be, because Koreans eat their food with rice, which is usually unseasoned and it’s a blank canvas.”
American cuisine has individually seasoned components on a plate, while Korean cuisine builds flavors in the mouth based on the banchan and rice.
“If I like saltier food, I can eat more of the food,” he said. “If someone else doesn’t like saltier food, they can balance the salt with rice. You will never find salt on a Korean table at a restaurant for that reason.”
Kim’s vision of Korean cuisine has won him Michelin stars, yet he can’t live on Korean food alone. What he enjoys besides Korean food are sushi and steak.
“Because I cook for a living, I like the natural flavors of ingredients,” he said. “There’s a change of textures and flavors, and I do that with Korean food but when I got out to eat. I want to taste raw fish or steak that is simply flavored with salt and pepper.”
Sometimes we need our food to be complex. Sometimes we want it as simple and clean as possible.
The future of Korean-American cuisine is “bright,” but Kim said he has been criticized for his Korean fusion offerings at Danji. Hanjan serves “Korean-Korean” food.
“The best chefs personalize their food,” he said in response to such attacks. “Even if different chefs are cooking the same thing, you should see their personality. A Korean-American growing up in New York City will have a different cuisine than a Korean-American from the Midwest.”
Part of the future of Korean cuisine in America must be a new generation to step up and make it.
“Coming to the CIA, there are over 300 Korean students studying here to learn how to be a chef,” he said. “That is a first step, having Koreans who know how to be a cook, cooking their own food in their own restaurant.”
Tips for foodies and budding chefs
The afternoon of the contest, Kim seasoned the questions from CIA Greystone students with sage advice.
1. “There are no shortcuts in cooking.”
2. Not everyone discovers their life’s mission in childhood. “I started cooking at 30. Growing up in a Korean family, cooking as a profession was not an option. It’s something to do if you aren’t smart enough to do something else. My mom was the worst cook. She just gave me money to go out to eat.”His marriage to a supportive wife is one of the main reasons he was able to become a chef. “I got married at 30, I was in medical school and I hated what I was doing.”
3. “Making soondae is all about technique. The ingredients have to be fresh and the technique has to been well done…. Soondae is a Korean blood sausage that is sold for about $5 an order on the street. You can take any dish to the next level. There’s no thing as cheap or bad food that can’t be elevated.” Even soondae.
4. “These days, you are looking for mentors. My mentor didn’t want to be a mentor. I cooked in a kitchen where I had to know. I wasn’t given answers. I had to figure it out; you don’t bother the chef. I make a mistake, I got yelled at.”
5. “You learn something in every kitchen and take something away from every experience.”
6. “MSG is like an athlete’s steroids. It makes food taste better without any work. It’s cheating.”
7. “You have to go eat out (to learn about cooking). It’s important to eat other people’s food.”
Kim offered this wisdom while judging a pork slider dish earlier in the day: “When you create something miniature, make sure everything is perfect. There’s no room for error.”
November 11, 2015
BCD Tofu House – Los Angeles
Bukchang-dong (or BCD) Tofu House has been one of the most popular Korean restaurants for years. I believe it’s one of those rare Korean restaurants that was born in America and made its way back to the Motherland, Korea. They have 15 locations in and around the Los Angeles region, New York, New Jersey, Seattle, and Seoul.
The BCD Tofu House was how most Los Angelinos in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s learned about Korean food. For the non-Koreans, the concept of ordering one main dish and have it accompanied by various side dishes was a big treat.
I always try to make it a point to visit BCD Tofu House whenever I’m in Los Angeles or the surrounding regions. They serve some of the best 순두부찌개 Soft Tofu Stew and I know the ingredients are 100% legit. The House brand tofu is made with Non-GMO organic soy bean tofu. The seafood/beef bone broth and the various banchan side dishes are made without MSG. I can trust this place.
As far as the price is concerned, it’s very fair. A bit on the cheap side, especially those Soon Tofu Combos. I would highly recommend the Pork Bulgogi and Soon Tofu combo, but the bibimbap combo ain’t half bad either!
On this occasion, we ended up ordering the 게장 Blue Crab in Spicy Marinade, 돼지불고기 Spicy Pork Bulgogi, and 김치 순두부 Kimchi Soon Tofu. Of course, we got the mixed grain rice, which is optional at no extra cost. Soon after the order is received, the waitress ajummas brings out your rice and banchans. Unlike most restaurants, BCD starts you off with 굴비구이 pan fried young yellow fish. All the banchan served has good flavor, but the yellow fish and spicy pickled clams/squid are just work of art!
The Spicy Pork Bulgogi is not too spicy, not too sweet, and has the right amount of flavor. The meat itself is very tender and the marinade/sauce is not overpowering. Very good!
I’m not a crab fan, but for the crab lovers and/or many other Korean food lovers, this stuff is known as 밥도둑 – aka rice thief. You can ask your Korean friends about the meaning of that term or you may leave us a comment below.
Kimchi Soft Tofu Stew… Quite possibly the second favorite comfort food among Korean people. At least for me, it is…
Be sure to visit BCD Tofu House at any of their numerous locations. From the menu, price, food quality, cleanliness, to the restaurant design, this is a place that I can proudly refer to anyone who is looking for a genuine Korean dining experience. Without any of that ‘luxury’ or some faux high concept Korean food that they are beginning to roll out, the BCD Tofu House is exemplary. Please visit http://www.bcdtofu.com to find the most convenient location to you or your traveling destination.
Bukchang-dong (BCD) Tofu House
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May 23, 2013
Restaurant: Kristalbelli, New York
The opening of “the next Korean barbecue restaurant” in midtown Manhattan by K-pop star and producer Jin Young Park has generated some controversy. Some think the restaurant’s aesthetic is too antiseptic to provide an authentic Korean experience.
Some reviews have viciously criticized the atmosphere, exemplified by the restaurant’s namesake crystal barbecue grills. Meat is cooked on a gas-heated, 99 percent crystal griddle in the “belly” of a golden Buddha-shaped frame embedded in the center of each table. The sloped griddle drains grease away from the meat into an under-table trap, and an exhaust fan incorporated in the griddle frame keeps much of the smoke of cooking meat from filling the restaurant and the clothes of patrons.
Reviewers claim the environment is overly elegant, even sanitized, in comparison to the more rustic feel of many all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue restaurants. To those people I would say, it’s not about you.
Kristalbelli does not indulge those who have a fever for the food of Korea’s third-world past of 50 years ago, or even a decade or two past. It’s for Korean food virgins and neophytes, many of who are non-Korean fans of JYP’s K-pop bands.
Readers of my restaurant reviews may remember that my family aren’t hardcore Korean food fanatics like myself and my dear husband. That’s why I enjoy taking them — they might say, dragging them — to Korean restaurants, especially when I really need the perspective of those with little to no understanding or appreciation of Korean food.
To make sure everyone would have a chance to pass some degree of judgment on it, we asked to eat each dish “family-style.”
This is the first Korean restaurant I’ve been to in a long time where the wait staff was eager to answer any and all questions about dish ingredients and preparation. And in a first for me States-side, I didn’t have to be the one explaining all the dishes.
And there was a lot of explaining to do, with multiple 반찬 banchan items (side dishes served with the meal), appetizers and main dishes. My father-in-law counted 50 plates of various sizes on the table for the five of us.
The spread was more typical of a leisurely dinner setting than a rushed work week lunch. If you are really craving barbecue, going at lunch vs. dinner won’t save you any money. But, satiating your craving earlier in the day may save you time. The restaurant wasn’t crowded when we went after the lunch hour.
Each of us received banchan. That included bamboo shoots, seaweed salad and pickled cucumbers. Interestingly, the pickled cucumbers had a pleasant combination of soy sauce, sesame oil and a slightly smoky flavor.
Also among the banchan were two kinds of kimchi: 배추김치 baechu (the most commonly seen kind, made from Nappa cabbage) and 총각김치 chonggak (ponytail radish). The ponytail radish was a little on the spicy side. Yet it was pretty fresh, no more than a couple of weeks old in my estimation.
The first appetizer tray brought to our table had delicately sliced raw tuna set on a bed of lime slices, dabbed with citrus sauce. The tuna was fresh and seemed to melt in my mouth.
The second appetizer was a small serving of rice wrapped in tofu skin and drizzled with a mustard citrus sauce.
The third appetizer was tempura-fried crab legs surrounded by squiggly trails of spicy mayonnaise and savory, okonomyaki-type sauce on the small platter.
For the main dishes, we ordered Wagyu 갈비 galbi (grilled beef, $31), 두부 잡채 tofu japchae (savory cellophane noodle dish, $13), 크리스탈 비빔밥 Kristal bibimbap with tofu ($15) and 두부 된장찌개 tofu doenjang jjigae (fermented-soybean stew, $12).
This japchae was somewhat unconventional. It had the typical mix of mushrooms, tofu and shredded carrots, but it also had shiitake (aka 표고 pyogo) mushrooms and asparagus. The flavors were balanced, none overpowering the others.
Japchae is a common item on Korean restaurant menus. Yet, I never know what I’m going to get, because it is pretty easy to mess up the delicate balance of bold flavors: sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic and black pepper. Sometimes, the soy sauce is dominant, and other times, it’s the sesame oil that terrorizes the tongue. One restaurant used a black pepper–forward sauce — unforgettable, not in a good way.
We asked for the Wagyu galbi to be grilled medium-well, basically between medium rare and well done. The meat was well-marbled and tender. The waiter cooked it, so we wouldn’t be distracted from our conversation with the task of grilling. The 쌈장 ssamjang (spicy, savory sauce spread on 깻잎 kkaenip/perilla or lettuce leaves wrapped around grilled meat) had a wonderful robust doenjang component, but it was not overly salty.
Accompanying the kalbi was a little dishful of Nagui sea salt. It’s an unrefined sea salt from harvested from filtered salt water at Docho Island in Korea. It has 20 percent less sodium than Guérande sea salt of France and three times its mineral content, according to the restaurant’s blog. Our waiter pointed out those attributes and recommended we dip at least one piece of galbi in the salt. It was a pleasant, new experience.
The bibimbap had the traditional mix of veggies, which we ordered with tofu. It also had two different kinds of seaweed:kim (aka nori) and seaweed stem called miyeok julgi, and yet seaweed flavor did not overwhelm the dish. Since we were eating the meal family-style, they were kind enough to bring out separate little dishes of gochujang so we could decide whether to spice up the bibimbap individually.
Korean restaurants in the States I’ve visited offer 고추장 gochujang (spicy red pepper sauce) separately, allowing diners to apply as much pain as desired. In keeping with the upper-scale setting, Kristalbelli also offered the sauce separately but in a small dish, rather than in the refillable plastic squeeze bottle of the typical barbecue house. This version of the sauce was sweet, as is common for bibimbap gochujang, but the amount of spiciness was milder that the conventional preparation.
The one adjective that circulated over and again through my mind during the meal was “balanced.” Balancing favors is really a difficult task, especially for Korean cuisine, which is known for its bold flavors. Kristalbelli does that well, maybe too well for some people’s tastes.
Yet, one can’t accuse Kristalbelli of false advertising. One of its goals stated on their website is to “to spotlight the delicate aspects of Korean cooking.”
When we entered the restaurant, it was hard not to notice the wine collection, prominently displayed near the front desk. It’s quite the wine list for a Korean restaurant, with wines from major wine regions all over the wine world: Oregon, Australia, the Napa/Sonoma region of California and Europe. We did not order any wine with our meal, so I would have to leave it to someone with more wine experience to judge the wine and food pairing experience.
If you’re up for it, Kristalbelli currently is hosting a food and wine pairing every Wednesday at 3 p.m. New York time, according to the restaurant’s Facebook page.
Kristalbelli’s second floor has a bar and lounge. We didn’t have an opportunity to go up there on this trip. Someday, I would like to try the 복분자 스테이크 Bokbunja steak ($23), described as a “steak with black raspberry reduction.” I think this is the first dish I’ve seen in a Korean restaurant using 복분자 bukbunjaju (black raspberry liqueur) for cooking.
Long-term success for this restaurant won’t be on the coattails of Mr. Park’s K-pop fame. Kristalbelli will have to win customers with great food and superior customer service.
The latter seemed to be a priority. My family’s relatively virgin palates were treated with respect rather than condescension. And it was the first time I’ve seen a Korean restaurant actively solicit comments via a customer-service survey handed to each of us at the end of the meal. For many diners, especially JYP’s target audience, the emphasis on service will cover alleged culinary faux-pas.
Kristalbelli
8 W. 36th St.
New York, NY 10018
(212) 290-2211
www.kristalbelli.com
Lunch: Monday–Saturday, 11:30 a.m.–2:30 p.m.
Dinner: Sunday–Thursday, 5–10:30 p.m.; Friday–Saturday, 5–11 p.m.
Lounge: Monday–Thursday, 5 p.m.–1 a.m.; Friday–Saturday, 5 p.m.–3 a.m.; Sunday, 5–10:30 p.m.
September 16, 2012
Is American soju 'watered down'?
Twitter makes it so much easier to “eavesdrop” on conversations of random strangers, which I do via a list of search terms related to Korean cuisine. For every person who asks a question, many others have the same one bouncing around their minds. Even random comments that don’t ask a question, but should ask a question, sometimes catch my eye.
SylviaKoss tweeted to Steven Chappell, aka thegrammarnazi:
#Soju can be sold in Calif. and New York, but it can only contain 25% alcohol or less. In #Japan and #Korea it contains 45%.
Mr. Chappell replied,
@SylviaKoss Then it’s not Soju. It’s watered-down Soju. #Soju #Japan #Korea
Is that shared soju experience the same in Seoul as it is in LA or NYC? (Leana photo, creative commons license, flickr)
Yet neither asked, “Why is the alcohol content of soju imported into the United States lower?” It’s another one of those answers that doesn’t fit well into a 140-character tweet. It has to do with whether you consider soju and Japanese sake as a rice wine or as distilled alcohol. (Some soju is made from sweet potatoes, tapioca and grains in place of or in addition to rice.)
The U.S. Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau considers soju a distilled alcoholic beverage. In August, a 42-year-old Virginia soju importer pleaded guilty to smuggling, money laundering and tax evasion for claiming soju was “rice wine,” avoiding nearly $102,000 in excise taxes on $2 million worth of shipments. Under U.S. law, distilled spirits are taxed at $13.50 per proof gallon, while wine is taxed at $1.07, $1.57 or $3.15 a gallon, depending on alcohol content.
But in 1998, the California Legislature gave soju the same status as beer and wine. The state’s Alcoholic Beverage Control Act Section 23398.5 limits what can be sold as “soju” under the more permissive on-premise beer and wine liquor license. It can’t have more than 24 percent of alcohol by volume. That’s the basis of Koss’ tweet to Chappell.
Additionally, soju “wine” must be made in Korea, so there’s no such thing as an American soju. Even Ku soju, one of the most marketing-savvy soju brands, is imported from Korean liquor chaebol (conglomerate) Doosan.
New York state adopted similar provisions in 2002.
Korean food culture is closely tied with consumption of alcoholic beverages, largely soju, 북분자주 bukbunjajoo (blackberry alcohol) and beer. Sharing a meal with friends without alcohol is virtually anathema, absent religious abstention.
California and New York both have large Korean-American communities and lobbied hard for the relaxed legal definition of soju. That allows Korean restaurants to sell soju without the bureaucratic burden of procuring a hard-liquor license first.
But there was a catch. Producers had to reduce the alcohol content in U.S.-bound bottles from 45 percent to 24 percent, just a little more than the kick of sweet, fortified wines such as Port.
After these laws passed, non-Korean restauranteurs discovered they could also take advantage of the loophole. In California, a hard-liquor permit can cost $6,000 to $12,000. To avoid those high costs, restauranteurs set their sights on soju as a less expensive alternative to jumping through all the hoop necessary to obtain a spirits license. They could sell cocktails made with soju instead of tequila or vodka.
Rather than “watered down,” U.S. soju’s lower alcohol content and lower caloric content of soju cocktails — about half the alcohol of vodka — is a marketable selling point for many bars and restaurants.
Keep in mind when you travel between the two countries. Several bottles of “American soju” don’t pack the same punch as the equivalent volume of Korean soju. Those two or three bottles of soju that leave you blissfully buzzed in L.A. might leave you puking your guts up on the sidewalks of Seoul.
November 22, 2011
Five questions for 'neo-Korean' chef-instructor Youngsun Lee
Youngsun Lee immigrated to Queens, New York, from Korea when he was 12 years old. He graduated in 2005 with a degree in culinary arts from the Institute of Culinary Education in New York.
Lee comes from a family of chefs steeped in the history of Korean cuisine. His aunt taught him the fundamentals of Korean royal cuisine, and another member of his family served as a sashimi chef in South Korea’s Blue House (residence of the President) in the ’70s and ’80s.
He interned under David Chang, proprietor of Momofuku, and Anita Lo, owner of Annisa, before opening the “neo-Korean” restaurant Persimmon in 2008 and closing it in recent months. He is currently teaching classes in Korean cuisine (Korean Barbecue, Korean Cooking for Seasons and Kimchi) at the institute.
Lee is one of the featured speakers at the Asian Feastival in Queens on Sept. 6. If you want to meet him in person, he’s hosting the Asian Feastival Culinary Bike “Tour du Jour” from 9:30 a.m. to noon. Follow him on your bicycle for a food tour of a local Korean community garden and the Queens County Farm Museum. To sign up for bike tour in advance, send e-mail to [email protected].
He was gracious to answer five questions ZenKimchi Food Journal posed about Korean cuisine, restaurant management and culinary instruction.
How do you define Korean cuisine?
I can go deep in history but then it’ll be really long. So I’ll try to make this short, maybe by giving some examples.
Many people think that it should be close to Chinese cuisine. [Korean cuisine does have] many influences from China, but the “cuisine” itself is not very much close to Chinese cuisine. There is a category we called “Chinese-Korea cuisine,” which was formed by Chinese who fled from China and all. But that’s very different from Korean. (I can write a book with this topic.)
So, Korean cuisine is almost like combo between Japanese and Thai. We are very big into fish sauce like Thai [cuisine], but we have about over 100 kinds of fish sauces in Korea. Chinese and Japanese don’t use fish sauce in their cuisine. Like with Japanese food, we do [use] soy stuff — miso, tofu, soy milk, etc.
We are very seasonal. We have four seasons in Korea. So we do follow seasonal food, like, religiously. There are unwritten rules we have to follow as a Korean chefs:
- Spring — bitter (new sprouts, etc): This will bring our appetites back from the long winter. Also eating new sprouts means getting nature’s force — life, new life in spring — from the new life into our body.
- Summer — sour (vinegar base, citrus, etc): As the weather gets hot, we loose our [sense of] taste. So by having sour food, it brings our appetites [back] and also keeps our bod[ies] cool and moist.
- Fall — spicy (hot pepper, etc): Prepare for a long, cold winter. Pepper was introduced to Korea about 300 years ago. Before that, there was not much spicy food. All of our kimchi used be white. [배김치 (bae kimchi) is pickled but not spicy.]
- Winter — salty (kimchi, pickle, etc): Long-lasting food, such as fermented dishes are served to help in surviving winter. And we use “sweet” to balance all these flavors. But, again, sugar was introduced to Korea about 300 years ago, so before that we used to use honey or fruits for sweetener. Still till these days, we like to use honey or fruits for our sweetener instead of sugar.
We are known as health freaks — very health-minded. We watch what we eat. Therefore, we like mix and match our food right. Then it’ll benefit your body and soul. But if you mix and match wrong, then it’ll harm your body. For example, never mix eel and peach, but beef and scallion is very good match.
The restaurants in Korea are not like [those] in the States. [In the U.S.] most of the Korean restaurants have all sections and types of food. I’ve never seen this in Korea. [There] everything is specialized, so they only have one or two items on their menu. Most of the places don’t have a menu, because they only have one thing. So you decide what to eat first, not where to eat.
Korean cuisine is [a leader in] salty food. We do consume about 20 percent more [salt] than [a typical] European or American, which is a lot. So, when non-Korean people start [eating] Korean food as [a] Korean does, then he or she might have some problems. Koreans are fine eating all that salty food, because in Korea, we [start by using] very good salt. Plus, we’ve [eaten these] foods for a very long time. We are trying to cut down, because mixing with Westernized food has made the new generations of Koreans heavier and unhealthier than before.
Like I said, I can go on and on about the Korean Cuisine.
What are your favorite cuisines, beside Korean?
I like all food and cuisine. I am a foodie. I like trying all kinds of food — Asian to African to Latino to European to American, etc. But if I have to “choose” few: Italian, southern or Sicilian; Latin, Spainish, Colombian, Mexican — real Mexican, not Baja Fresh; Japanese; northern European, including Iceland; and of course, French — I used to go to Montreal a lot. Even what’s called “street or market food,” some of ’em are really good in taste and health[ful] too.
For example, when I was traveling in Korea, most of the time I had food in outdoor markets. Some of ’em were really well-known, and I had to wait in line for up to two hours. And I am sure that — let’s say if you go to Mexico — I want to try their breakfast at 4 a.m.; they have a feast at [that time]. It’s 4 a.m., but there is a line for it.
It doesn’t matter what ‘kind’ of cuisine. As long as it’s made of what [native] people are used to, then it’s good for them. Then I’m sure it’ll be good for us, whoever is willing to try it.
One time, I had a chance to visit a farm. It was my eye-opening moment. I had a really nice time playing with a baby cow and all. But the next day we had to butcher and consume [it]. When I was grilling the meat, I found [a] tear rolling down my face. I didn’t feel sad that this cow died. I felt so thankful to this cow that gave up his or her life to just to feed people. After that, I have been really trying to thank any farmer who brings real food to our tables and try[ing] really hard to use all parts and not waste any.
What did you learn from your experiences with David Chang and Anita Lo?
I knew you were going to ask this question, because I always get it.
Let’s do Anita Lo first. At that time, I was doing an externship at Anisa. It was [so] good that I wanted to stay but had no opening. I was very new to the industry, so I just soaked up everything like a sponge back then. But most, the kitchen was very smooth and there were no yelling or anything bad vibe. So I learned to run a kitchen very calmly and nicely so that everyone who’s in that kitchen feels good and wants to cook for [the love of] food. I learned how take care of people well.
David Chang. Yes, the master Chang. [He laughs.] Because he is Korean — who grew up in [Washington] D.C. area, can’t speak Korean that well and sometimes seems like he not proud being a Korean; this is just a personal view — and I am Korean. Plus I used to work for him, although there was not a single time that I was in line with him and cooking together.
Don’t get me wrong; I like him. I think he’s great businessman. I can’t say he’s a great chef, because I’ve never seen him taste his dishes [while he] cooks. But he had good ideas, good capital, and good people who can bring his ideas to reality, and most of all “good timing.”
Oh, yeah. there were lots of yelling and stuff in Momofuku. He does care about the ingredients a lot — sometimes too much. But that’s why he’s where he is now. Many times, I had to add tons of salt, because it was not seasoned for his taste. [Then later] I had add more water and stock for customers — they told me it was way too salty. So when I was working for him, I was really not sure if he is a chef or businessman. He seems more into getting his name out there than cook as chef. But I did learn many things during my stay at Momofuku. But most things were from running a kitchen — a small kitchen — not really from him.
What lessons did you learn from opening your own restaurant that you can pass on to others who are considering a career in the culinary world?
Wow, this is really a tough one. As you know or not, I had to close down my restaurant. I had it for a bit less than two years. Yes, it was a lesson for me — a very expensive lesson.
I thought I did enough research, and I thought I was ready. And we were. [The] concept was good, food was good, reviews were great, we were doing well. But [we] had some problems getting the liquor license, [the financial] market fell, and all. At one time, our reservations were backed up for three weeks, but after Lehman Brothers went down we averaged less than 20 tops a night. [A “top” is an occupied table.] We did get our business back, but it was too late.. Our capital ran out, and [we] couldn’t keep [it] up any more.
So, research, research and research. You need a good capital, a good concept — especially in New York. [The city] can be great, but it can eat you up in days. Here in New York, we have everything; we we have more sushi places than McDonald’s restaurants. If you don’t like [the first restaurant you see] you just go to next block, and they’d have same or similar food there also. But somewhere else other than New York, patrons don’t have many choices. But if you go to some cities in the States, [there] maybe [only] one or two sushi places.
You also need good timing. Even though the food is great, if the economy is not great then people will not come out to eat. So opening a luxury restaurant wouldn’t be fit for a harsh economy. People literally wants to “solve” their lunch under $10 and dinner under $20. During the period our [financial] market was falling so deep, only McDonald’s profited from their sales. During that time people just didn’t spend money on food [eaten outside the home]. Now you can imagine how many restaurants had to close. The famous ones are gone too.
But, again, if you wait ’n’ wait, then your dream will fly away. But if you rush it, it will run away [too]. Be wise, kids: Follow your heart and passion, but don’t forget your head.
What is it like to go from a culinary student to being a culinary professor?
Well, for me, the hobby became an occupation. I went to the School of Visual Arts for a degree in graphic design and fine arts. After I graduated, I was in that field for about four years but couldn’t not get a job that I wanted and just could not fulfill myself. Plus, I couldn’t imagine myself sitting in front of computer for rest of my life.
The next thing I liked — not I was good at — was food. I was not going to school for it, so I did tons of my own studies and research. Actually, that helps me a lot when I teach at school. (I am trying to get a few more teaching positions in other schools.) But I’ve decided to go to school. I really liked it and did learn a few things out of it. Not many.
But I think that anyone who wants to work in the kitchen should have some kind of formal education in culinary arts. I’ve seen it in many kitchens. But again, sometimes those Mexican fellas [in the kitchen] didn’t have any culinary education, yet with no experience are a better choice than a culinary school graduate with a “big head.”
From student to instructor, I really like it. I like teaching, helping but never thought I’d be a teacher of anything.
I do teach many other things, but mostly I am glad that I do Korean. And I am kind of the first one to teach Korean [cuisine] in New York. As a student, I used to look up to those chefs [who] taught us. Now these people are looking up to me. It makes me humble in many ways, because what I say can effect their lives in the future.
More and more, I have to keep doing research to keep up with more information and stories. I like history of food and background stories to tell my students. I think, in this way they will never forget; all my students know about carrot and eggplant really well.
Funny thing was that when I was in school, during the Asian food section I had to correct our chef [instructor] in many things. I kind of ran that section. Since than, somewhere in my heart I felt that there needs to be better information in teaching.
My title may say “chef,” “professor,” or anything, but mine is an ongoing learning experience. A friend just opened a cupcake shop, and I offer her my help for free so I can learn baking. I am just glad and blessed to share some of my knowledge to hopefully make people better cooks or change of their thinking about food.
For example, I always tell people that the certified-organic price is the regular price and the nonorganic price is just lower than regular price. When we change our mindsets, we will never go back to nonorganic again. Just buy one organic egg and a nonorganic one then compare the yokes. You’ll never eat a non-organic egg again.
September 2, 2010
PETA vs. San Nakji
From Hanopolis
It had to come eventually, especially after the san nakji on dalk galbi video.
The folks at PETA have been picketing two New York restaurants for serving san nakji, that moving octopus dish. Now, we jokingly call it “live” octopus, but the creature is already dead before reaching the table, swiftly dispatched by the chef–an end that is likely a lot less painful and prolonged than most of our own ends will be. And it’s a lot more humane than what happens to them in nature.
I’m a supporter of animal rights, despite what some of you may think. Cruelty pisses me off, whether it be factory farming, beating a dog for adrenaline in its meat or subjecting the public to another Sex and the City movie. But when PETA pulls these stunts, they hurt not only their cause but the real change that the rest of us are trying to create in making our world more humane for all creatures.
I also think that it is cowardly to target ethnic restaurants. They already are dealing with a huge challenge of making it in a foreign land in the cutthroat restaurant industry. These are not rich people. They don’t have the luxury to take a day off to picket other businesses.
Yet the most despicable aspect is the cultural chauvenism this displays. The arrogance of forcing one’s narrow-minded eating habits on other cultures! I mean, imagine if Koreans went out and protested restaurants in Korea that were serving American beef…
Oh yeah…
Well, in the meantime, here’s some video of Chef Ben eating his first san nakji.
[HT to Chef Cathlyn Choi]
May 10, 2010
Thoughts after The Essence of Japanese Food
Posted by shinshine
On January 24^th and 25^th, I attended The Essence of Japanese Food – Discover Authentic Japanese Ingredients, a culinary event sponsored by the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (MAFF) of Japan. This free event ran for 4 days, first two days focused on introducing Japanese food culture and ingredients to culinary school students and junior chefs and the last two days on demo application of Japanese ingredients to restaurant chefs and food buyers.
I attended the last two days of the event based on my familiarity with the cuisine (on a relative scale). It was a small (maximum of 40 attendees by registration), but fairly well-organized, packed event that presenting companies and chefs put much effort to prepare. On both days, we started out with 10-minute introductory presentations from each company that brought 1 or 2 ingredients, including yuzu (유자; yu ja) liquor and sauce for cooking, sashimi-quality frozen sea scallops, wagyu (Japanese beef), nagaimo (마, ma), black garlic (흑마늘; heuk ma neul), somen (소면; so myeon), buckwheat noodles (메밀국수; me mil guk su), sake, gold flake balls, microwavable fish products over the two days. After the lunch break on our own, we came back for company demo introductions (somen and buckwheat noodles) and featured chef’s cooking demonstrations (Josh DeChellis on the first day and David Bouley on the second day). Following the demo and tasting, we were led to a separate product exhibition room, where we could ask more specific questions and taste ingredient samples. The event ended with a happy hour of Japanese hors d’oeuvres and sake.
Here are some of my observations of the event.
- Most representatives from the Japanese companies made their presentation in Japanese, which helped them just be confident and showcase their ingredients. One interpreter was available throughout the two days I attended who was knowledgeable in the ingredients as well as culinary terms. There were also a couple of companies that brought in their own U.S. reps who were very much fluent in both languages and their products.
- Many of the introductory presentations addressed the issues that Americans are interested and care about. Buzz topics such as ‘sustainability’ and ‘chemical-free’ as well as strict standards in processing and inspection were discussed.
- Presentations were also focused on their long (sometimes too long) history of the ingredients and products, including artisanal human care and geological advantage (weather and environment) that distinguish their products as high quality.
- While the presenters glossed over some basic culinary details since the audience was professionals, basic yet culturally different details were covered, such as boiling somen which is different from pasta that requires the cooking water to be salted and cooking time to be longer, yet doneness is determined at ‘al dente’.
- Informational brochures on Japanese food were available in the back of the presentation room, including ‘Japanese Beef Products Guide Book,’ ‘Dashi Culture,’ and ‘Umami.’
- Flyers informing the products to be showcased at the International Restaurant & Foodservice Show of New York (February 28 – March 2, 2010), along with two special events “World of Koji – The Secret of Japanese Fermented Products” and “Umami in Kombu and Other Food Products” scheduled at the venue, were also available.
- These companies were ready to discuss distribution.
- The highlight of the two days was chef David Bouley’s over 2-hour cooking demo of preparing a 4-course tasting menu. Throughout the demo, chef Bouley’s knowledge and respect for the Japanese ingredients were flowing non-stop, which could only come from his long-standing personal interest in the cuisine, decades of relationships with Japanese chefs and countless trials of Japanese ingredients in his own cuisine “without compromising the integrity of Japanese or French cuisine.”
Thoughts after the Event
Introduction of a country’s cuisine is a multifaceted effort. I don’t know how many direct deals the participating companies ended up getting from this event. My wild guess is on an individual company level, participating in this event wouldn’t be cost-effective, which makes the role of the MAFF of Japan more important. Although the companies might not gain immediate monetary rewards, events like this serve as long-term efforts that raise awareness and appreciation of the Japanese ingredients and food culture among the current and future chefs who are particularly interested in new ingredients and ways to incorporate them into their own cuisines.
Although I have not been in the food industry for long, I have not seen any notice for Korean food trade shows or seminars for people in the food industry in New York area. I do not belong to any cool group that gets invitations to special events and that may be the reason I don’t know much about Korean food events. I found out about this event, as I usually do for other culinary events, through my culinary school’s weekly news email for alumni.
Street festivals and advertisements on publications are aimed at the general public, which is one aspect of the introduction/familiarization of a cuisine. We can debate all the possible ways to spell Korean food items. I don’t know the specifics of what is planned at the government level or any company level and reasons to opt for certain routes. On a personal level, however, it is disappointing not to find any Korean companies when Joe McPherson and I combed through the list of the exhibitors (as of February 5th, 2010) at the International Restaurant & Foodservice Show of New York (February 28 – March 2, 2010).
As a cook who is seeking out opportunities to learn more about what’s behind all the emphases on ‘well-being,’ high quality, natural Korean ingredients, I have not had a chance to learn in New York. I just hope to see more focused, long-term minded efforts that introduce and familiarize the Korean ingredients and food culture to targeted audiences, such as the food industry right here in New York.
February 6, 2010
Chinese-Korean or Korean-Chinese? The edible mystery of Myung Chan Dong in Flushing, New York
Posted by Grace Meng
Flushing, New York is easily disorienting. It may not be the most ethnically diverse town in the borough of Queens, but it’s definitely one of them. The sidewalks of downtown Flushing are nearly as packed as in Times Square, with people shopping for durian fruit and eating $1 Peking duck buns. The dominant Asian ethnicities are obviously Chinese and Korean, except that doesn’t begin to describe who is actually living, working, and cooking in Flushing. Within blocks, sometimes within a few feet, you can move from Taipei to Chengdu to Hong Kong.
And this past weekend, I ate food from the border between China and North Korea. Some of what I ate reminded me of Korean food. Some of what I ate reminded me of Chinese food. None of it was like anything I had tasted before.
명찬동, pronounced “Myung Chan Dong,” can be found at 36-24 Union St., just south of Northern Boulevard. The name of the restaurant is written in Korean and Chinese; it’s been written up elsewhere in English as “Ming Chan Dong.” The outside of the restaurant is plastered with Korean letters advertising things like chive dumplings and boiled dumplings. The windows are filled with giant buns stuffed with kimchi. The dough is similar to the kind in Korean “wang mandu” or “giant dumplings,” but with pleating more intense than anything I’ve ever seen in Korea. (One food writer says it’s like a Klingon forehead.)
Inside, the signs on the walls sport mainly Korean writing—you can get sundubu or spicy soft tofu stew, or sundae, Korean blood sausage stuffed with vermicelli. At least that’s what I know those words to mean, but since I didn’t order these dishes, I’m not sure that’s exactly what I would get. The menu is entirely in Chinese and Korean, no English, but not every Chinese dish is translated into Korean. The waitress greeted us in Chinese, but when I said I was Korean, she switched easily and smoothly into Korean. Then when she realized my friend Jerome speaks Chinese, she alternated between the two, looking back and forth at us. (Alex and Salley, who are ethnically half-Chinese and Korean, respectively, understood nothing but ate everything.) The only other people who came into the restaurant that day were obviously Korean. I heard one of them order cheonggukjang, which is an especially smelly and intense version of doenjang or Korean soybean paste, that has fermented to the point it tastes like cheese.
And yet, nothing we ate that day was Korean. Actually, we were served four side dishes of spicy pickles that were very, very, very similar to kimchi. But otherwise, nothing we ate was remotely Korean or even Korean-Chinese, that sub-cuisine that Koreans love and own as much as Americans love and own pizza.
The first dish to arrive was pork in a sauce similar to jjajiang or black bean sauce, on a bed of freshly shredded scallions, that we were supposed to eat wrapped in paper-thin slices of warm tofu.
Judging from the translation of the menu provided by Lau on Chowhound, I think it was the “jing jiang rou shi,” which Lau describes as “shredded meat in Beijing sauce.” I don’t know what “Beijing sauce” means. I only know that it was absolutely delicious. The sauce was slightly sweet, just enough to notice but not enough to be cloying. The tofu was firm but flexible, and wrapping it around the meat was almost as much fun as eating it.
Because we were planning to eat at two more places that day, I asked her to recommend a vegetable dish. She suggested eggplant sauteed in garlic, but what we got was so much more. The eggplant was cut into thick, long pieces, almost like French fries. It was coated in egg then fried, so that the inside was creamy and the outside crisp, even when tossed in garlic sauce. The texture, especially with the crunchy-tender wood ear mushrooms, was as surprising and exciting as any dish created by a molecular gastronomist. We found out from the waitress that the dish was “yuhsiang” (translated by Chowhound Lau as “yu xiang qie zi”). Jerome said it’s a very common style of cooking, just one step up from “bulletproof Chinese,” but like us, he had never eaten anything like this before.
We also tried one of the giant kimchi buns, which to me tasted dry and not very memorable, but was at least really fun to look at.
My initial reason for wanting to go to this restaurant had been to try the Korean-style jjajiangmyeon and the Chinese-style side by side. Like taking a slice of American pizza and lining it up next to its Neopolitan ancestor. The Korean-style, though, looked nothing like I expected. The sauce was black and there were the requisite shredded cucumbers, but there was no pork or seafood or onions in the sauce. The sauce had good flavor but the noodles were poor, too mushy to support anything.
To our surprise, the “Chinese-style” turned out to be noodle soup! Jerome and Salley, who have had “zha jiang mian” said that what they had in mind were noodles with meat and a bit of sauce. This may have been a mistake in communication, though this blog post on a Dongbei restaurant in Kuala Lumpur makes me think that she was serving us dao shao mian in the way that blogger expected it, “floating around with greens and porky pieces in a rich broth.” The broth was good, as was the pork and greens, but the noodles again fell down.
At the end of our meal, the waitress asked us what we had liked best. When we told her we loved the pork wrapped in tofu and the eggplant, she said in Korean, “There are dishes that are yummier here, but I thought since you are new to our restaurant, you should try these. They are cheap.” She then turned to Jerome and told him in Chinese that the lamb dish was “the bomb.” For a minute, we considered ordering the lamb right then and there, but we decided instead to push on for Xi’an liang pi noodles and Szechuan wontons in chili oil at the Golden Mall. (These are famous, especially as Anthony Bourdain is a big fan of the Xi’an food stall, so you can find out more about them elsewhere.)
In any case, I resolved to come back with a bigger crowd and eat whatever she told us to eat.
I think much of the menu is typical of “Dongbei cuisine,” which encompasses three provinces in northeastern China. From what I’ve read, the cuisine shows the marks of Korean influence—they eat a lot of pickles and food spiked with hot chiles and vinegar. They are also masters of dough, with wheat taking a more central place than rice. One of the most intriguing menu items to me was “옥수수냉면“ or corn cold noodles. Naengmyeon, or cold Korean noodles, are from North Korea, so it would make sense that the Chinese provinces would eat something similar. I’m dying to know if the noodles are made with corn or if corn is incorporated into the dish in some other way. Judging from what people have eaten at a self-identified Dongbei restaurant, corn as well as potatoes are staples, which would coincide with what I know about North Korean regional cuisines as well.
Yet it’s clearly not just a Dongbei restaurant. I’d wondered if it was owned by ethnically Korean people from China, or ethnically Chinese people from Korea. But it turns out the bilingual waitress is Chinese, has never lived in Korea, and speaks Korean because she was taught it in school. It doesn’t really matter what we call the food Myung Chan Dong makes. The restaurant reflects the people who cook and eat there. No more, no less. I can’t wait to go back.
February 1, 2010