Oct 2009

Chả Giò – Vietnamese Egg Rolls

Whereas the bulk of Vietnamese dishes are more or less standardized, it seems that every Vietnamese family has their own unique recipe for chả giò (Vietnamese egg rolls). What’s interesting to note is that even within the same family, siblings can develop vastly different recipes. While living in Vietnam, I learned that my grandmother’s sister prepares her chả giò completely differently than our family in America.  While my grandma employs a pork, shrimp, and mushroom filling, her sister uses grated taro root in hers.  Some Vietnamese put carrots or even corn in their chả giò.Crab is also a popular but expensive filling.

All chả giò found in Vietnam are made using rice paper wrappers, which results in a beautifully blistered exterior. Unable to locate suitable rice paper in America when this recipe was first developed, my family used generic Asian wrappers. Even with the availability of better rice paper these days, my family continues to use the generic wrappers for their superior crispness and browning properties.

These chả giò taste wonderful eaten by themselves, sliced atop cool vermicelli noodles, or wrapped in herbs and greenery and dipped in fish sauce. This recipe yields sixty chả giò, which may seem excessive, but trust me, they’ll disappear very quickly.

  • 1 pound medium size shrimp, shells removed
  • 1/2 pound ground pork
  • 1 1/2 cups cellophane noodles (Lungkow brand)
  • 3/4 cup dried wood ear mushrooms
  • 2 medium white onions, chopped
  • 3 teaspoons fresh ground black pepper
  • 3 teaspoons salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon Monosodium Glutamate (optional)
  • 1 package of generic Asian wrappers (Menlo brand)
  • Vegetable oil for frying

Make filling

In two separate bowls, soak mushrooms and cellophane noodles in warm water for 30 minutes. Drain mushrooms and noodles thoroughly. Chop mushrooms finely and cut noodles into three-inch segments. In a large bowl, combine pork, onion, noodles, mushrooms, MSG, salt, and pepper.

One at a time, place shrimp on cutting board atop a sturdy surface (photo 1). Using the side of a cleaver (photo 2), whack the shrimp two or three times until flattened (photo 3). The veins will naturally pop out.  Once all of the shrimp have been flattened, run a knife through them to mince. Be careful not to over-chop the shrimp. Add the shrimp to the pork mixture.

Using your hands (gloves optional), mix all of the ingredients together very well, blending the shrimp with the pork and spices. “Massage the meat,” my mother says.

Once the filling has been properly massaged, set it aside to rest for at least fifteen minutes. The filling can be refrigerated overnight as well.

Wrap Chả Giò

Using a pair of kitchen scissors, cut the chả giò wrappers in half diagonally (photo 1). Next, separate each individual wrapper since they adhere to one another in the package. Set the wrappers aside.

To assemble the chả giò, lay a wrapper on top of a plate or a flat surface. Place a heaping tablespoon of filling onto the wrapper (photo 2). Fold in the right side of the wrapper (photo 3) and then fold in the left side. Gently roll the chả giò, tucking in the jagged ends as necessary. Repeat until all of the wrappers and filling have been used.

Heat two cups of vegetable oil on medium heat in a wok or deep sauce pan. The oil should be at a depth of about 2 1/2 inches. Gently lower each roll into the hot oil and fry until golden brown. Add additional oil as necessary.

NOTE: Do not overheat the oil or else the wrapper will turn golden before the filling is cooked through. It is also important that the folded side of the chả giò be placed into the oil first to avoid unraveling.

Once golden brown, remove the chả giò from the oil and drain in a colander or on absorbent paper towels. Let cool before serving.

Oct 2009

Minca Ramen Factory – New York City

MINCA RAMEN FACTORY

I know this sounds absurd, but flying to New York to eat ramen in the East Village seems almost more convenient than braving L.A. traffic to slurp noodles in the South Bay. My logic is admittedly flawed, but there’s no denying my intense disdain for driving and congestion. Plus, my brother’s apartment on Houston and 2nd is the gateway to Manhattan’s finest ramenyas (ramen shops). A short walk to gratification will always beat a long drive, even with a flight penciled into the equation.

Before boarding the Chinatown bus to Philadelphia for a weekend of Swarthmore XC alumni fun, The Astronomer and I carbo-loaded at Minca Ramen Factory, which is a favorite of both my brother and Iron Chef Morimoto.

MINCA RAMEN FACTORY

Unable to find a suitable bowl of authentic Japanese ramen in New York City, Shigeto Kamada, a Japanese expat and musician, opened Minca in 2004. The musician turned ramen master learned the art of noodling by eating in Japan’s greatest ramenyas while on tour with his band and by training at a friend’s restaurant. “I only started making ramen here because I needed some to eat,” Mr. Kamada told the New York Times in the article “Here Comes Ramen, the Slurp Heard Round the World” by Julia Moskin. “I can’t live without it.”

MINCA RAMEN FACTORY

According to Ms. Moskin, “The classic ramenya meal starts with a plate of gyoza and a beer, followed by a big bowl of soup and noodles, eaten with as much slurping as possible.” It was too early in the day for a beer, but a plate of homemade pork gyoza ($4.85) was definitely in order. The piping hot, thinly wrapped pork and vegetable dumplings were seared to a golden char and served with soy sauce on the side. The gyoza didn’t pack as much juicy, meaty oomph as their Chinese counterparts, but still provided a satisfying start to our meal.

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Oct 2009

Corton – New York City

CORTON

My brother has averaged a visit a month to Corton since its doors opened last October. With endless dining options at his fingertips, my brother insists on returning here time and again because the food is phenomenal, the menu is constantly evolving, and the value is superb. Plus, being a regular has its perks. Although he’d prefer to keep Corton a secret, my brother is not alone in his affections. Frank Bruni dolled out three stars last December in the New York Times and most recently, Corton received two stars from the Michelin Guide in its 2010 edition.

Located in the heart of Tribeca, Corton is a partnership between renowned restaurateur Drew Nieporent (Tribeca Grill, Nobu, Nobu Fifty Seven, Nobu London, Next Door Nobu, Mai House, Centrico and Crush Wine & Spirits) and Chef Paul Liebrandt (Pierre Gagnaire, Bouley Bakery, Atlas, Gilt). Chef Liebrandt’s modern French menu melds the tradition of classical cuisine with a contemporary approach to ingredients and technique.

My brother treated The Astronomer and me to dinner at Corton during our week-long stay in New York. Arriving earlier than our dining mates, we grabbed two seats at the bar. I sipped a very potent Spencer (Cîroc vodka, Lillet, grapefruit juice, candied grapefruit), while The Astronomer drank an extremely manly Brazilian Breeze (Leblon Cachaça, pineapple, pomegranate). Both cocktails were $15.

As soon as I whipped out my camera to take happy snaps of our brilliantly-made adult beverages, the maître d’ swooped in to inform me that the restaurant has a no-photo policy. In my three years of covering restaurants on gas•tron•o•my, I have never encountered a situation like this before. I was mildly sad that I wouldn’t be able to share plate-by-plate details of the meal with the Internet, but excited to dine like a normal person for the first time in years! You win some, you lose some.

CORTON

Corton offers a three-course prix fixe menu ($85), as well as a chef’s tasting menu ($135). My tablemates and I chose the three-course affair. We began our feast with two canapes and bread service. The first canape consisted of a bagel adorned with egg, caviar, and flecks of gold leaf, while the second one was a luscious foie gras mousse with tomatoes. The highlight of the bread service were the thin and crispy raisin toasts swathed in seaweed butter.

My foie gras appetizer with sour cherries, Chioggia beet, and Cataluña spice was sublimely executed. The preparation was so fantastic that it rivaled The French Laundry’s. If the torchon had been accompanied by luxurious slices of toasted and buttered brioche rather than ordinary toast points, Corton would’ve nudged ahead.

My entree of Maine lobster with heirloom beets, Parmesan crumble, and Bergamot orange ($6 supplement) wasn’t as life-affirming as the one I’d eaten the evening prior at Blue Hill, but seriously solid nevertheless. The hunk of tail was accompanied by succulent lobster knuckles.

Following a Kaffir lime sorbet, I indulged in Corton’s signature dessert, “brioche, passion fruit, coffee, banana.” The caramel brioche was topped with brioche ice cream, passion fruit “mayo,” and banana pâte de fruit.

What sets Chef Liebrandt’s style of cuisine apart from the fine dining pack are his “side dishes.” Two or more of these artfully plated flourishes accompany almost every appetizer, entree, and dessert. At times all of the different bowls and plates could barely fit on our tabletop. The Chef also likes to add various finishing touches, like pouring sauces and foams, right as the plate lands at the table.

CORTON

When the mignardises arrived, my brother dared me to disobey the restaurant’s wishes and snap away. Corton’s selection of mignardises—handmade chocolates, truffles, and macarons—were some of the best I’ve ever encountered. Each delicate nibble was a thoughtful and delicious creation.

One of the perks of being a regular is not having to be modest. Restaurant Director Arleene Oconitrillo left the trays of beautiful mignardises at our table so that we wouldn’t have to choose which of the four different chocolates to indulge in. We could have them all! And we did.

Corton
239 West Broadway
New York, NY 10013
Phone: 212-219-2777