May 2009

The Fortune Cookie Chronicles – Jennifer 8. Lee

About: Readers will take an unexpected and entertaining journey—through culinary, social and cultural history—in this delightful first book on the origins of the customary after-Chinese-dinner treat by New York Times reporter Lee. When a large number of Powerball winners in a 2005 drawing revealed that mass-printed paper fortunes were to blame, the author went in search of the backstory. She tracked the winners down to Chinese restaurants all over America, and the paper slips the fortunes are written on back to a Brooklyn company. This travel-like narrative serves as the spine of her cultural history—not a book on Chinese cuisine, but the Chinese food of take-out-and-delivery—and permits her to frequently but safely wander off into various tangents related to the cookie. There are satisfying mini-histories on the relationship between Jews and Chinese food and a biography of the real General Tso, but Lee also pries open factoids and tidbits of American culture that eventually touch on large social and cultural subjects such as identity, immigration and nutrition. Copious research backs her many lively anecdotes, and being American-born Chinese yet willing to scrutinize herself as much as her objectives, she wins the reader over. From Publishers Weekly.

My Thoughts: After finishing up a good read, I try to take some time away from it in order to fully digest what I’ve learned. I find that over time, certain themes and stories stay with me, while others fade to black. It’s been a solid month since I finished up The Fortune Cookie Chronicles, and I still can’t stop thinking about the Chinese village of Houyu. With more than three-quarters of its population working in Chinese restaurants in the United States, all that remains in Houyu are women, children, and giant mansions built from back-breaking American dollars. “This is what General Tso’s chicken buys in China,” Lee writes. It’s haunting stories like this one that makes this book a real page-turner.

Some of the most poignant tales in The Fortune Cookie Chronicles explore issues of immigration. I was fascinated to learn that New York City is the chief point of reference for all Chinese immigrants. Cities outside the Big Apple are defined by their relative distance (in hours by bus) from East Broadway in Chinatown. It’s crazy to think that the network of Chinatown buses I used to ride from Philly to New York and D.C. sprung up to transport new immigrant laborers to Chinese restaurants outside New York.

Although Lee tackles a number of heavy issues in her book, she also weaves in a handful of lighter stories. One of the most enjoyable chapters focused on Lee’s quest for “The Greatest Chinese Restaurant Outside Greater China.” I was hoping with all of my heart that she’d find it in the San Gabriel Valley, but alas, she chose Zen Fine Chinese Cuisine outside Vancouver.

The Fortune Cookie Chronicles is an entertaining and exceptionally well-written exploration of everything under the Chinese-American sun. This book is an essential read for anyone who’s ever added the words “in bed” to the end of their fortune cookie prophecies or wondered whether General Tso’s Chicken was actually eaten in China. After reading this book, soy sauce packets and delivery menus will never be seen in the same light again.

(more…)

May 2009

Animal – Los Angeles

Animal is “the epitome of a promiscuously meaty approach to cooking that might well be called the Carniwhore School, ” says Frank Bruni in his article ‘In Los Angeles, Trying to Live by Pork Alone.’

The Carniwhore School holds that no beast bests the pig in its multifaceted pleasures, that offal shouldn’t be relegated to just one or two dishes on the margins of the main feast, and that if you think something might taste better fried, go ahead and fry it, arteries be damned.

As a student of the rival school of Balanced Plates, I’ve thus far steered clear of Animal in spite of its bevy of solid press. I appreciate meat from snoot to tail, but Animal’s culinary approach always struck me as too over-the-top. I fancy my meat paired with embellishments other than additional meat.

Or so I thought.

Ironically, it was chefs Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo’s ridiculous loco moco creation that ultimately brought me through Animal’s doors for a meal. Go figure…

With layman’s loco moco base tastings completed the night before, Bex, The Astronomer, and I were game for Animal’s gourmet rendition the following evening. Part two of “A Tale of Two Loco Mocos” commenced at 6 PM on Fairfax. We were joined by my friend Carissa and her boyfriend Joe.

Perusing the menu, I was pleased to see that the renegade chefs had taken S. Irene Virbila’s critique to heart and added more vegetation onto the menu. During our visit, beets, baby broccoli, avocado, and lettuces all made an appearance on the protein-laden bill of fare.

Between my four dining mates and me, we selected four small plates and two large ones to share.

Dinner began on a light note with a plate of sliced fluke dressed with citrus, mint, sea salt, and jalapeno ($12). The fresh fluke shined the brightest on this colorful plate, while the de-seeded jalapenos brought a smidgen of heat.

Next, we dug into a heaping pile of poutine, a classic Quebecer delicacy comprised of French fries doused in gravy and cheese. Animal’s version employed tenderly braised oxtails and savory Vermont cheddar ($15). Whereas it pained me to share the fluke five-ways, the poutine was much more enjoyable in small doses. Salt-overload would have been inevitable had our party been smaller.

The melted petite Basque with Fra’ Mani chorizo and garlic bread ($11) came highly recommended by our waitress. The first few bites of this dish were terrific—the toasty bread was a fine vehicle for the molten cheese and chorizo. As was the case with the poutine, the petite Basque would’ve been overwhelmingly salty had we not split it five-ways. Ms. Virbila was right when she advised that the salt shaker be hidden from the boys in the kitchen.

Our final small plate of the evening, the bellwether ricotta ravioli with English peas and mint ($9), was a favorite of Bex and The Astronomer. Sweet peas and cool mint are a classic and delicious pairing, especially with creamy ricotta.

The massive rack of balsamic pork ribs ($37) made the entire table swoon with delight. Cooked for ten hours, the meat fell cleanly off the bone and melted in our mouths. The sweet glaze atop the meat was Yankee all the way, but we didn’t mind because we reside to the left of the Mason Dixon.

The ribs were served with a side of good but forgettable roasted parsnips and carrots with pine nuts and raisins.

After five courses of eager anticipation, the loco moco finally arrived at the table.

Piled high Alfred-Portale-style, the loco moco consisted of a fried quail egg, seared foie gras, Spam, a Niman Ranch burger, and Anson Mills gold rice ($35). From the egg up top, to the Sriracha infused gravy below, every single element was well-seasoned, well-prepared, and well, stellar.

I couldn’t have appreciated this dish to the fullest without the less-than-perfect base tasting the night before.

We closed out the evening with two decadent desserts. Joe’s doughnuts with caramel sauce ($8) were simply plate-scrapin’ good. The texture of the doughnuts was impossibly light and the gooey caramel sauce was dreamy. If my friends and I weren’t so civil, I would’ve thrown down for their portion of these awesome orbs.

Animal’s signature bacon chocolate crunch bar with salt and pepper anglaise ($8) didn’t quite kill it like the doughnuts did. The idea of bacon making a sweet appearance was endlessly appealing, but the execution left something to be desired. In the end, we all felt that the chocolate was too dense and bitter to meld well with the crunchy and oily bacon bits.

To erase the taste of the poorly constructed bacon dessert from our memory, we licked the caramel sauce clean off the long-gone doughnuts’ plate. That’s how we do.

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Animal
435 N. Fairfax Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Phone: 323-782-9225

May 2009

Aloha Food Factory – Alhambra

I was hoping to try Hawaiian food with a native Hawaiian a couple months back when Luscious Liana came to town, but she told me it was really unhealthy and she would rather eat at Roscoe’s.

The desire to sample island fare returned a few weeks later after reading Jo of My Last Bite‘s account of a Hawaiian delicacy known as Loco Moco—a dish comprised of “white rice topped with a with a hamburger patty, a fried egg, and brown gravy.” She begins her post by waxing poetic about the first loco moco she sampled on Oahu. Then, she introduces an insanely gourmet loco moco created by chefs Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo of Animal in Los Angeles.

In spite of my friend’s warning about Hawaiian food being hazardous to my health, I knew right then and there that I had to try the infamous loco moco. Unbeknownest to me at the time, my friend Bex had the same idea brewing in her head. And thus, “A Tale of Two Loco Mocos” was born. Or as Bex refers to it as, “Loco for Loco Moco: No Joke-o.”

Before venturing to Animal to try the rich man’s loco moco, Bex and I agreed that we had to taste a down-home rendition. For our loco moco base tastings, Bex headed to Bruddah’s Hawaiian Food in Gardena, while The Astronomer and I ventured to Aloha Food Factory in Alhambra.

Aloha Food Factory is a mom and pop shop located in a converted mission-style Taco Bell. It’s run by a wonderful woman named Betty who opened the eatery in honor of her Hawaiian best friends. She was excited to hear that The Astronomer and I were trying Hawaiian food for the first time, but grew wary when we placed our order of Spam musubi ($3.75) and loco moco ($7.25). Concerned that we would be scared away from Hawaiian food forever, she insisted on bringing us free samples of the more popular Kalua pork and char siu. They were delicious, but we would not be deterred from our mission.

The Spam musubi was a delightful introduction to Spam, at least for me. Coupled with warm rice, a sweet teriyaki sauce, and sheets of nori, the Spam tasted like extremely salty hot dogs. The Astronomer’s experience with the meat bi-product wasn’t as sunny—he took two bites of the musubi and passed the rest my way.

After I polished off the Spam rolls, the loco moco arrived. Isn’t she a beauty?

The loco moco tasted fine enough, but wasn’t particularly delicious. The texture of the dish was more offensive than the taste—everything on the plate was overwhelmingly goopy due to the three runny eggs and gelatinous, made-from-scratch gravy. The Astronomer was most displeased with the overcooked and dry hamburger patty. Perhaps the worst part of the loco moco experience was how it made me feel afterwards—sluggish and gross, even hours after my last forkful. Maybe Lush was right about her people’s food after all.

Up next, part two of “A Tale of Two Loco Mocos.”

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Aloha Food Factory
2990 W. Valley Boulevard
Alhambra, CA 91803
Phone: 626-308-0215

Aloha Food Factory on Urbanspoon

Aloha Food Factory in Los Angeles