Dec 2008

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.

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

Dec 2008

Pizzeria Mozza – Los Angeles

Even though it’s been over two years since Pizzeria Mozza served its first artfully topped wood-fired pie, reservations at a decent hour are still as tough as nails to snag. Nancy Silverton, Mario Batali and Joseph Bastianich are the masterminds behind the pizzeria and its upscale sister restaurant Osteria Mozza, hence the immense popularity. There’s nothing like big names to get diners’ salivatory glands going. Myself included.

I’ve been jonesing to try Pizzeria Mozza ever since the New York Times‘ Frank Bruni professed his love back in May of 2007. I was unfamiliar with Nancy Silverton’s mad skills prior to moving to Los Angeles, but knew of Mario Batali from the Food Network and his New York City eateries Babbo and Otto. I admire how Batali has managed to achieve a certain level of culinary celebrity without sacrificing his credibility as a chef or the quality of his ventures. Bravo! I also like how he blasts tunes from his personal iPod at Babbo and still manages to keep all three stars.

The best seats in the house at Pizzeria Mozza are those facing the wood-fired oven, which The Astronomer and I were fortunately seated at. Throughout our meal, we were mesmerized by the cooks masterfully working the dough, carefully arranging the toppings, and cautiously firing each creation. If you find yourself sitting at the bar, make sure to chat it up with Caesar (bottom right)—he’s a cool cat and makes excellent recommendations.

While we waited for our pizzas to arrive, we munched on some fantastic bread sticks. I’ve read that the appetizers are great, but since it was a weeknight outing, we didn’t feel like making it a three course affair. No worries, we’ll be back.

The Astronomer ordered a pizza with Coach farm goat cheese, leeks, scallions and bacon ($15). The pie measured a foot in diameter and was cut into four generous slices. Although not on the menu description, the pizza also contained whole cloves of roasted garlic, which were sweet without a trace of bitterness. Yum! The crust was thin in the middle and bulbous around the perimeter. The crust was enjoyable, but for The Astronomer, it was the combination of toppings that made the pie spectacular.

I ordered the egg, guanciale, radicchio, escarole and bagna cauda ($14) because I’m a sucker for runny eggs atop pizza pies. The combination of ingredients challenged me—the radicchio was bitter, while the bagna cauda tasted of the sea. Unlike The Astronomer’s pizza, mine wasn’t as easy to love because the flavors were bold and competed with one another. Next time, I’m going for the fennel sausage, panna, red onion and scallions combo.

For dessert, we asked our man Caesar which one was his favorite. Without hesitation he recommended the butterscotch budino ($9), which so happens to be Frank Bruni’s favorite too.

Frank Bruni calls the butterscotch budino “a pudding to shame all other puddings,” and I agree with him wholeheartedly. The smooth butterscotch pudding is topped with whipped cream, a thin layer of sweet caramel and an ample sprinkling of sea salt. The double punch of sweet and salty made me squeal. Really! The pudding was served with two pine nut and rosemary cookies on the side. Good times.

Click here for Nancy Silverton’s Butterscotch Budino recipe.

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Pizzeria Mozza
641 N Highland Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Phone: 323-297-0101

Pizzeria Mozza on Urbanspoon

Pizzeria Mozza in Los Angeles

Dec 2008

Tofu Village – Los Angeles (Koreatown)

One of the things I missed most about America while I was away in Asia was attending rock shows. Sure, I saw some homegrown Saigon death metal and even My Chemical Romance, but none of my favorites ever came to rock the Mekong. This certainly is not the case in Los Angeles. In fact, so many sweet acts come to town that we have to pick and choose which ones to see based on monetary and scheduling constraints.

Ben Folds is The Astronomer’s all-time favorite musician—the Billy Joel of our generation, if you will. When we found out that he was coming to town and playing a show at the Wiltern Theatre, we knew we had to be there. Granted, we’ve already seen him twice, but Ben in concert is a magical experience that’s not to be missed.

I work a stone’s throw away from the Wiltern, so we stayed in Koreatown for dinner. Tofu Village is conveniently located across the street from the venue.

Tofu Village is known for their generous banchan. On this evening, we were served eleven different ones! My favorites of the bunch were the purple potato salad, jap chae, salty fish with chili sauce, and fried tofu with eggs. I especially loved the chewy little silverfish and ate them straight-up. Banchan are my favorite aspect of Korean meals because they bring about a feeling of adorable abundance.

Tofu Village specializes in soft tofu stew or soondubu jjigae. We ordered a seafood medley filled with clams, shrimp and lots of silken tofu. The stew arrived bubbling like mad in a clay pot, and our waiter cracked a raw quail egg into it upon arrival. Purple rice was served on the side. Since this was our first time venturing into soondubu jigae territory, we received a bit of instruction from our waiter—take a heap of rice, dip it into the stew, put it in your mouth, then repeat.

After the stew cooled down, we could actually taste the broth, which was flavorful, but not the least bit spicy. The waiter probably sensed we were newbies and prepared the stew mild even though we requested medium heat. Next time we’ll ask for a bolder rendition.

For our second dish, we tried the galbi jjim, which was translated as a “beef rib stew” on the menu. This dish was served with sticky rice and fish sauce on the side. The soup contained generous and tender hunks of beef ribs, glass noodles, scallions and dried plums. We incorporated the rice into the soup per our waiter’s instructions, which reminded me of the Vietnamese canh dishes I grew up with. Prior to exploring Koreatown, I associated Korean cuisine with brash, in-your-face spiciness. The galbi jjim highlights a more subtle side of Korean food.

After we polished off our two stews and paid our bill, we headed across the street to rock out.

Ben played a two and a half hour set, which pleased us to no end. The first half of the show was dedicated to new material, while the second half was dominated by the songs we knew by heart. For a nerdy man with a strangely elongated torso, Ben Folds rocks the party.

The Luckiest

Annie Waits

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Tofu Village
3807 Wilshire Blvd. #120
Los Angeles, CA 90189
Phone: 213-386-3650

Tofu Village on Urbanspoon

Tofu Village in Los Angeles