Aug 2009

Peach Crostata

As someone who has never baked a classic, flaky crusted pie, the idea of preparing a crostata was appealing because its perfection lays in its imperfection. Whereas dimply or cracked crusts are seen as major cosmetic flaws on a pie, when it comes to crostatas, they’re essential for achieving a perfectly rustic product. To further add to their accessibility, Crostatas are “free-form,” and thus don’t require any special baking dishes or fancy crimping methods. All one needs is a simple baking sheet and and a trusty rolling pin.

This recipe comes from Frank Stitt’s Southern Table, a gorgeous cookbook filled with stories and recipes from Highlands Bar & Grill—my all-time favorite restaurant in Birmingham, Alabama. The recipe yields enough dough for two crusts, even though the directions only calls for one. According to Mr. Stitt, “You can prepare the dough well in advance and even freeze it with no loss of quality.” I’m looking forward to calling upon my extra dough later this summer when the abundance of ripened fruit just begs to be made into another crostata.

For the dough

  • 2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1⁄4 cup sugar
  • 1 teaspoon Kosher salt
  • 1 1⁄4 sticks unsalted butter, cut into 1⁄2-inch cubes and chilled
  • 1⁄4 cup ice water

For the filling

  • 1⁄4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1⁄4 cup sugar
  • 4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter
  • 2 pounds ripe peaches, pitted, peeled, and sliced into 3⁄4-inch-thick wedges
  • 1 large egg yolk, beaten with 1 teaspoon heavy cream for egg wash
  • 1 tablespoon coarse or granulated sugar for topping

Prepare the dough

Combine the flour, sugar, and salt in a food processor and pulse a few times to blend. Add the butter and pulse until it is the size of small peas, about 15 times. With the processor running, add the ice water and process for about 10 seconds; stop the processor before the dough comes together. Turn the dough out onto a sheet of waxed paper, divide the dough in half, and shape it into two disks. Wrap them in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour. (The dough can be refrigerated for 2 days or frozen for up to 2 weeks; if it has been frozen, defrost the dough for 30 minutes at room temperature.)

Preheat the oven to 450°F.

Roll one disk of dough into an 11-inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Transfer to a baking sheet. (Reserve the second disk of dough for another use.)

Prepare filling

Combine the flour and sugar in a small bowl. Blend in the butter with two knives until the mixture resembles coarse meal.

Place the peaches in the center of the dough circle on the baking sheet and top with the butter-sugar mixture. Begin draping the edges up and over, forming about 3 pleats. Crimp the pleats and press down to seal. Brush the pastry with the egg wash and sprinkle with the sugar.

Bake the tart for about 25 minutes, or until golden brown. Let cool on a rack and serve slices with vanilla ice cream or crème anglaise.

Makes 6 servings.

Aug 2009

Bánh Cuốn Hai Nam Saigon – Alhambra

Although I’m not certain, I have a sneaking suspicion that my non-food-obsessed friends might be a little afraid of offering up restaurant recommendations to me. I think it’s the slim possibility of a bad meal and a ridiculing review to follow that keeps them mum. I was recently made aware of this situation when making plans to lunch with my friends William and Anne from college. Since William grew up in Monterey Park and knew his way around the San Gabriel Valley’s panoply of delights, I asked him to choose our dining destination. William hemmed and hawed, and after a dozen or so email exchanges, he still couldn’t offer up a single restaurant name. His nervous reaction had me feeling unnerved and even questioning my restaurant snobbery. Am I really that difficult to please? It’s a distinct possibility.

I felt like I took a huge weight off William’s shoulders when I suggested Bánh Cuốn Hai Nam Saigon in Alhambra. I had been wanting to try this restaurant ever since gas•tron•o•my reader Sharon recommended it to me, and this was the clearly the perfect opportunity.

The small eatery was packed on the Sunday afternoon we dined. I was happy to see large groups of friends and smiling families gathering around communal tables sharing huge plates of banh cuon. The positive vibes emanating from patrons had me in good spirits and excited about my meal.

While we waited for a table to open up, my friends and I perused the large picture menu hung outside. [Click on the photo for a better look.]

One of the huge pluses of dining with people who “eat to live” was reigning supreme over the ordering. Vietnamese rice flour crêpes prepared in every which way are the specialty at Bánh Cuốn Hai Nam, so I ordered three different varieties to share. The Banh Cuon Dac Biet Hai Nam ($5.80) arrived first.

The restaurant’s “special” platter consisted of an ample mound of rice flour crêpes topped with chả lụa (Vietnamese pork sausage), bánh cóng (battered and deep-fried mung beans, shredded taro root, and shrimps), bánh tôm hồ tây (battered and deep-fried julienned sweet potatoes with shrimp), mint, fried shallots, cucumber, and blanched bean sprouts. We drenched our banh cuon in nuoc mam, which was available in a huge jug tableside.

In the pantheon of Vietnamese dishes, banh cuon is one of the easier ones to get right, just as long as the crêpes aren’t too thick and the toppings aren’t too greasy. The flavors here were right on and wholly satisfying. The varied selection of toppings made the dac biet platter a fantastic choice.

Next, we dug into Banh Uot Thanh Tri ($5.15). I specifically ordered this dish because I was curious as to what “Thanh Tri”-style banh uot entailed. Even after polishing off the plate, I couldn’t figure out what made it particularly notable.

When I arrived home, I powered up the Internet to investigate. I found that the dish originated in Thanh Tri, a neighborhood outside of Hanoi. I also found a Chowhound thread discussing the very topic. According to Alice Patis of Alice’s Guide To Vietnamese Banh, “Thanh tri is basically just non-rolled, non-filled [crêpes].” I also asked my mother and grandmother their thoughts. They both believe that the only difference is semantics—Southerners call it banh uot, while Northerners call it banh uot Thanh Tri.

The bottom line is that the flavors are more or less “same, same,” especially when doused in nuoc mam.

Lastly, we went to town on the Banh Uot Cuon Nhan Thit ($5.25), crêpes stuffed with ground pork and wood ear mushrooms. The crêpes were nice and thin, while the filling was well-seasoned and plentiful. I would’ve appreciated a slightly warmer temperature, but it was solid product regardless.

UPDATED: The Astronomer and I revisted this restaurant with my mom and had a terrible experience. The food was subpar, especially the nuoc mam, and we found a dead cockroach beneath the table. Gross and grosser. I am definitely not returning here anytime soon.

Bánh Cuốn Hai Nam Saigon
1425 E Valley Boulevard
Alhambra, CA 91801
Phone: 626-300-8079

Aug 2009

Kogi – Los Angeles

Kogi is the truck that launched a thousand other trucks, and for that, I am incredibly grateful. The Los Angeles dining scene, not to mention my Twitter feed, would be a dramatically quieter place without all of these quirky roach coaches driving around. I am certain that there will come a time when we’ve grown tired of eating on our feet and sacrificing our clothes in the process, but until then, keep on truckin’!

My first encounter with Kogi came after a dangerously mediocre meal at Gjelina last October. A disappointing dinner begs to be rectified, but Gjelina’s dreadfulness killed my spirit, and thus, no Kogi was sampled that evening. Months went by before Kogi and I were fatefully reunited at The Brig‘s parking lot on Abbot Kinney. This time around, we were joined by the children of the Kogi mobile meals movement—Cool Haus, Dosa Truck, Get Shaved, and Fishlips.

When Kogi first hit the streets, hour-long lines were the norm. Now that things have cooled down a bit and competition has emerged from all corners of the city, the wait is much more manageable. With a mere twenty minute-long line, Kogi was still the clear favorite among all of the trucks gathered at The Brig this afternoon.

The Astronomer, Rosalind (The Astronomer’s lil’ sister), and I shared a short rib taco and a spicy pork taco. Both items were garnished with romaine lettuce and cabbage tossed in a Korean chili-soy vinaigrette and drizzled with a sesame and chili sauce. A relish of cilantro, green onion, and lime added the finishing touches.

Aesthetically speaking, the messy tacos looked identical save for the slightly redder hue on the spicy pork number. Taste-wise, the two varieties were eerily alike due to the overpowering chili-soy vinaigrette and sesame oil atop each taco. It was a shame that the fillings tasted so similar, but the biggest letdown was the lack of cohesion between the fixins and the corn tortilla. Rather than mingling harmoniously in my mouth, the assertive masa dominated the pleasant Korean flavors.

The Kogi sliders were more successful due to the employment of white bread. Unlike the distinctly flavored corn tortillas paired with the tacos, the buns had a wonderful way of taking on flavors and disintegrating on the tongue. Since the sliders were filled with the exact same ingredients as the tacos, they unsurprisingly tasted similarly.

To be certain that Kogi’s range of flavors wasn’t limited to one note, I also stole a bite of my friend Laurie’s burrito. Sure enough, it tasted just like the tacos and sliders. I guess that’s bound to happen when the same garnishes are applied to every dish.

Follow Kogi on Twitter @kogiBBQ.

POWER RANKINGS

India Jones Chow Truck > Dim Sum Truck > World Fare Bustaurant < Border Grill Truck > Cool Haus > Lomo Arigato > Don Chow > Kogi > Marked 5 > Dosa Truck > Phamish

Kogi Korean BBQ on Urbanspoon

Kogi Taco Truck in Los Angeles