Archive for the 'Taiwanese' Category

Boiling Point – Monterey Park

It was supposed to be a quiet night at home with The Astronomer and a big bowl of pasta. However, a knock at the door changed the evening’s course for the stinkier.

I had invited Danny and Fiona over for a slice of the double-decker monstrosity that was The Astronomer’s birthday cake. They came, they ate, and before departing, they extended a dinner invite to Boiling Point.

I was quick to flash my “I haven’t gone for my daily run” card that I keep in my back pocket, but the Gourmet Pigs’ and the Kung Food Panda’s powers of persuasion were far too great. Before I knew it, The Astronomer and I were sitting in Fiona’s backseat on our way to Monterey Park to try stinky tofu for the very first time.

Boiling Point serves up Taiwanese-style individual hot pots in seven different varieties, including beef, lamb, Korean kimchi, curry fish ball, tomato and veggie, seafood and tofu, and “House Special.” Danny, Fiona, and I ordered the House Special hot pot, while The Astronomer went with the seafood and tofu. The spiciness of each hot pot can be adjusted according to preference. The Astronomer and I asked for “extra spicy,” which was one notch below the maddeningly spicy option. Clearly, we were feeling brave this evening.

As we waited for our pots of hotness to arrive, we meandered over to the condiments cart to dish up some sauces—from left to right—garlic soy, spicy oil, and spicy bean. The Astronomer liked the salty garlic number best, while I preferred the chunky and fermented spicy bean.

The broth that fills each hot pot isn’t very complex, it’s mostly just boiling hot and as spicy as specified. These three sauces are essential for boosting the flavor of the broth and the individual ingredients inside it.

My House Special hot pot arrived bubbling, steaming, and brimming with pork intestines, meatballs, quail eggs, green nira (Chinese chives), cilantro, hotdogs, enoki mushrooms, kamaboko (Japanese seafood loaf), pork, Napa cabbage, tomatoes, and of course, stinky tofu. I quickly plopped a small tangle of vermicelli noodles that arrived on the side into the hot broth to soften up.

I approached this hot pot in the same way as a communal one. Using a small bowl, I dished out a portion that included a bit of this and a bit of that. Hovering over the steaming pot would’ve provided an excellent facial, but sweating uncontrollably at the dinner table isn’t very attractive. From the noodles to the intestines, everything that passed through my lips was dipped or doused in spicy bean sauce.

At the bottom of the hot pot lay four triangular slabs of the infamous stinky tofu. The unpleasant odor emanating from the tofu was the result of marinating in a brine made from fermented milk, vegetables, and meat for several months. Although I was pleased to find the tofu’s flavor less intense than its smell, I wasn’t thrilled at all with the taste. I usually embrace the funky and the fermented, but in the case of stinky tofu, I wasn’t loving it. In fact, I was downright hating it. Ditto for The Astronomer.

It wasn’t love at first bite for stinky tofu and me, but I’m open to trying it again and again until we find common ground.

The Astronomer’s seafood and tofu hot pot was piled high with imitation crab meat, clams, bean curd, enoki mushrooms, green onions, tofu, pork, eggs, Taiwanese bok choy, shrimp, and octopus. The broth was identical to mine.

As we fished up the last bits from our hot pots, The Astronomer and I agreed that there’s a certain charm to individual hot pots, but a well-composed bowl of Vietnamese bo kho or Chinese beef noodle soup is less work and more satisfying.

Boiling Point
153 West Garvey Avenue
Monterey Park, CA 91754
Phone: 626-288-9876

Boiling Point on Urbanspoon

Boiling Point in Los Angeles

Din Tai Fung – Arcadia

Pretty much ever since we got to L.A., The Gastronomer and I have been hearing great things about Din Tai Fung Dumpling House, an establishment owned by a Taiwanese family that also operates celebrated restaurants in Shanghai, Japan, and Hong Kong. We both love dumplings (in my case, perhaps love is not a strong enough word—I’m obsessed), and these were rumored to be the best in the area. Reviewers claimed that they would happily drive an hour or more across the metropolitan area just to feast on Din Tai Fung’s soup-filled delights. Even though The Gastronomer and I did not possess a car, we began to plan a journey to Arcadia by bus.

Fortunately, The Gastronomer’s Mom recently hooked us up with our own set of wheels, and now getting to Arcadia is a snap. We visited Din Tai Fung one Saturday for a late lunch. The dining room wasn’t tremendously large, but it was certainly well-appointed and a happening place. We perused the menu while we waited for a table. Obviously, we had to try the classic pork dumplings, but what should be our second dumpling choice? The Gastronomer considered adventurously trying the fish dumplings. She asked the hostess for her opinion, and the look she got back made it clear that fish was not a good idea. It was suggested that we order the pork and shrimp shiu mai instead. We were glad we did.

While we waited for our food, we studied up on the proper way to eat Din Tai Fung dumplings. I tried following the directions for a few dumplings, and also tried just popping the whole thing in my mouth at once. They were awesome both ways.

As explained in the instructions shown above, the dumplings were served with a vinegar dipping sauce with freshly julienned ginger. I’m used to dipping my dumplings in soy sauce, which was also provided, but this was better.

The dumplings were wonderful. The Pork Dumplings ($7.25) were round and filled with broth, while the Pork and Shrimp Shiu Mai ($9) each had a whole shrimp inserted into their open tops. We couldn’t decide which variety was our favorite, but The Gastronomer particularly loved the plump and juicy shrimp atop the shiu mai. As we never made it to Shanghai during our Asian travels, this was my first experience with soup-filled dumplings, and I can’t say for certain how Din Tai Fung’s stack up. However, I preferred them to any of the Northern Chinese-style dumplings that I ate in Hong Kong, Xi’an, and Beijing, which were amazing to begin with. The wrappers weren’t too chewy, the meat was seasoned just right, the sweet broth added an extra burst of flavor and warmth, and the ginger dipping sauce really brought everything together. What a treat.

In my opinion, Din Tai Fung is totally worth the hype, and also worth the price, which seems to be people’s only complaint about this place. Ever since living in Vietnam, my appetite for eating huge portions of meat at one sitting has decreased considerably (see Korean barbecue—I felt a bit ill after that meal), so twenty dumplings was just about right for us.

On our way out of Din Tai Fung, I spotted a newspaper article on the wall that described the restaurant’s history. Apparently the son of the Taiwanese founders immigrated to America many years ago, but his parents encouraged him to pursue non-restaurant careers because food service was too demanding and time-consuming. While he was toiling away as a garment inspector, he witnessed several impostor Din Tai Fung restaurants spring up in California, trying to take advantage of the Asian branches’ notoriety. Each of them produced an inferior product and eventually closed. Tired of seeing his family’s name tarnished, the son gave in and opened his own restaurant, a true Din Tai Fung Dumpling House. It seems like he’s making the dumplings right.

Din Tai Fung
1108 S. Baldwin Avenue
Arcadia, CA 91007
Phone: 626-574-7068

Din Tai Fung on Urbanspoon

Din Tai Fung in Los Angeles






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