Jul 2009

Ludo Bites 2.0 at BreadBar – Los Angeles

Chef Ludo Lefebvre‘s French-rooted culinary training and rise through the fine dining ranks may have been conventional, but these days, he’s thinking firmly outside the box. Ludo Bites is a “guerrilla-style pop-up restaurant event” created by the Chef to serve well-crafted and innovative food without breaking diners’ banks. By teaming up with Bread Bar in West Hollywood, a restaurant that’s only open for breakfast and lunch, overhead is kept to a minimum and savings are passed on to eaters.

In addition to redefining what constitutes a restaurant, Ludo is also experimenting with his food. Heavily influenced by his mentor Pierre Gagnaire, the Chef serves up plates featuring jarring juxtapositions of flavors, tastes, textures, and ingredients. Ludo Bites is a thoroughly eccentric and eclectic dining experience that really is like no other.

I received an invite to a private dinner at Ludo Bites courtesy of Fooddigger, a unique online restaurant guide that enables users to sync up tastes with like-minded eaters. I first connected with Fooddigger last April at an event at Church & State. I was joined at Ludo Bites by ten of my food blogging brethren. [For a full list of attendees, see below.]

Before our meal began, Fooddigger’s Marshall distributed a spreadsheet showing the compatibility of each of the diners present as generated by the site’s Flavor Profile quiz. I learned that Diana Takes a Bite and I aren’t rocking to the same restaurant tune, but that Rants & Craves and I share very similar tastes. [PLUG: To see how well our tastes match up, log onto Fooddigger and take the quiz!]

What’s extraordinarily cool about Fooddigger events is that they’re completely inimitable. For this dinner, Fooddigger worked closely with Ludo and his wife Kristine to orchestrate a feast featuring both on- and off-the-menu creations. Dining experiences like these come but once in a blue moon.

Dinner started off with a bang—a deconstructed Bloody Mary served on an over-sized chilled spoon. The one-bite wonder smacked of sweet tomatoes, sinus-clearing Worcestershire, and a pinch of celery. The glob of textured jelly caught me by surprise due to its resemblance to crushed ice. With Ludo in the kitchen, things are often not as they appear.

Breadbar’s honey wheat bread with a side of Ludo’s honey lavender butter arrived next to calm our taste buds with its sweet and rich goodness.

My favorite course of the evening arrived early in the game—tuna sashimi with sushi rice ice cream, fried shallots, and shichimi togarashi (Japanese 7-spice blend). Eaten alone, the ice cream tasted vinegary and unpleasant. Consumed in tandem with the soy sauce, sesame oil, and luscious cuts of tuna, the amalgam of flavors screamed out sushi! Experiencing a distinct flavor profile without the textures to match up was a thrill for the senses.

The third course to arrive was a singular and succulent sweet and sour shrimp with rosemary and lemon zest. We were advised to eat it all in one bite. Achieving a perfect balance between sweet and tart, the marmalade-like goop atop the shrimp was what really made this dish great.

One of the least impressive dishes of the meal was the King red salmon with smoked vinegar, watermelon, and mint. The dish was to be finished in two bites—first the cube of salmon with roe, and then the watermelon with mint. The fruit, fish, and garnishes were all fine, but the whole was not greater than each individual part. I was hoping for some sweet and salty interplay between the various ingredients, but that wasn’t to be.

The chilled and smooth chorizo soup with onion and cornichon ice had the whole table talking. The wickedly orange soup tasted of smoky sausages and a bevy of savory seasonings that reminded me of vending machine fare. Like Doritos and Combos, the soup had an addictive and very appealing quality to it. My dining mates and I made sure to scrape the bottom of our bowls for every last drop. As Victor of Grubtrotters duly noted, the vessel was sadly too deep to lick.

My second favorite course of the night was a foie gras tart with maple crust topped with sliced mushrooms and truffle oil. A sour lemon paste was served on the side. The tart’s wild combination of flavors and textures were completely unorthodox, unabashedly bold, and worked together ingeniously. For me, this creation epitomizes the Ludo Bites experience.

One of the evening’s best dishes was followed up with one of the least strong. The diver scallop, with port, crème fraîche, pickled onions, and orange zest failed to come together. The scallop was cooked properly, but its accouterments did everything in their power to detract from its sweetness. The pickled onions were harsh, while the zest was bitter.

The Tonnato-style halibut with spiced butter, fresh porcini, and wilted lettuce was cooked impeccably. Whereas halibut usually has a flaky, steak-like quality to it, Ludo’s version was impressively moist. The dish’s flavors weren’t groundbreaking, but it’s impossible to fault a well-cooked fish.

Our final dish before the cheese course was a beautifully prepared duck with an almond brittle crust, crispy skin puree, tapenade, turnips, and wasabi foam. The duck was cooked medium-rare and had an unbeatable texture. The sweet and crunchy crust contrasted tastily with the duck’s natural goodness. The tapenade, seared turnip, and wasabi foam disrupted the meat’s sweet harmony in the same way the pickled onions interfered with the scallop course. I finished the duck and left the sides untouched.

Cheese courses usually don’t excite me, because the last thing I desire following a smorgasbord of food is a block of fatty richness. However, when cheeses are served with sweet and sticky accompaniments, my mood changes and I start getting territorial.

Ludo’s cheese board was amazing. This evening’s selection included Brin D’Amour with toasted hazelnut with licorice, an Epoisse with honeycomb, Affinois with apricot paste and rosemary, Etorki with date puree, butter, and fleur de sel, and Valdeon blue cheese with Pink grapefruit gelee. Now, that’s a cheese course!

The final course of the evening, a vanilla panna cotta with caviar and caramel, offered one of the most bizarre pairings of the evening. I was really taken aback by how well the pearls of caviar gelled with the velvety panna cotta and candied caramel sauce. This creation really takes the whole genre of savory sweets to the next level by introducing notes of the sea. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect conclusion to our Ludo Bites dinner.

Photo by kevinEats

Following our beastly meal, we sat back, relaxed and watched Ludo do his pigs’ ears quesadilla thang on Top Chef Masters. Kevin took this great photo of Ludo incensed that his English required closed captioning.

Ludo Bites will be calling Bread Bar home until August 22.

A hearty thank you to the fine folks at Fooddigger for planning this spectacular feast and generously footing the bill. Thank you. Gracias. Grazie. Cám ơn!

Ludo Bites at Breadbar
8718 West 3rd Street
West Hollywood, CA 90048
Phone: 310-205-0124

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Jun 2009

Bánh Cuốn – Vietnamese Rice Crepes with Ground Pork and Mushrooms

The literal translation for bánh cuốn is “rolled cakes.” A more apt translation would be “Vietnamese crêpes stuffed with ground pork and wood ear mushrooms.” In Vietnam, bánh cuốn is consumed for breakfast and as a late night snack.

For years, my Bà Ngoại (maternal grandmother) made bánh cuốn using a prefabbed batter that she purchased from the Vietnamese supermarket. The grocery store-bought batter yielded passable bánh cuốn, but my grandma always felt that the crêpes’ consistency was slightly off. While reading a local Vietnamese-language newspaper recently, Bà Ngoại stumbled upon a bánh cuốn recipe that looked very promising. She followed the instructions to a T and was very impressed with the results. The combination of rice flour, potato starch, and tapioca starch makes for a light and thin crêpe without a trace of glueyness.

For crêpes

  • 2 cups rice flour
  • 1 cup potato starch
  • 1/2 cup tapioca starch
  • 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 5.5 cups water

For filling

  • 1 pound ground pork
  • 1 cup wood ear mushrooms
  • 4 shallots, finely chopped
  • Fish sauce
  • Black pepper
  • Sugar
  • Monosodium Glutamate (MSG)

Make crêpe batter

In a large bowl, whisk together rice flour, tapioca starch, and potato starch. Whisk in water and oil until blended. Let the batter rest for one full hour before proceeding. [See images of the various flours’ packaging after the jump.]

Make filling

While the crêpe batter is resting, prepare the meat filling.

In a small bowl, cover the wood ear mushrooms with boiling water and let stand until softened, about 5 minutes. Drain and chop the mushrooms.

In a small skillet, heat a tablespoon of oil. Add the ground pork and the shallots and cook over moderate heat until no pink remains. Break up the meat with a spatula. Stir in the chopped mushrooms. Season with fish sauce, black pepper, sugar, and MSG to taste. Set aside.

Mise en place

The process of making bánh cuốn requires one to work quickly and efficiently, so make sure that all ingredients are within reach before starting—batter, filling, and additional oil.

Assemble bánh cuốn

Grease a large plate using a non-stick spray or a paper towel dipped in oil. Set aside.

Heat a ten-inch non-stick pan over medium-high heat. Lightly mist pan with non-stick spray if using a plain skillet. Ladle in about a half cup of batter, quickly swirl to evenly coat the skillet, and then quickly pour the excess back into the batter bowl. Note: the batter should sizzle when it hits the pan. Cover the pan with a lid for approximately 30 seconds.

The crêpe is ready to be inverted once the edges start to release themselves. Invert the crêpe onto the greased plate in one swift motion. Don’t worry if the crêpe’s sides fold inward. Be sure to re-grease the plate after every three crêpes or so.

Spoon about one tablespoon of the pork and mushroom filling into the center of the crêpe. Fold in the sides to cover the filling and form a neat rectangle. Transfer the finished bánh cuốn onto a different plate.

It is best to fill and fold the bánh cuốn while the crêpes are cooking. The time that it takes to fill and fold the bánh cuốn is comparable to the time that it takes for the crêpes to cook. The bánh cuốn making process goes by rather quickly once a rhythm is established.

Serve bánh cuốn warm or at room temperature with nuoc cham. Garnish with fried shallots, steamed mung bean sprouts, julienned cucumbers, and cha lua (Vietnamese pork loaf).

Makes approximately 30 to 40 bánh cuốn.

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Jun 2009

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