May 2007

Bonté – Philadelphia

May 12, 2007
Cuisine: Belgian, Desserts & Bakeries, Coffeehouses

130 S 17th St, Philadelphia 19103
Btwn Sansom St & Moravian St

Phone: 215-557-8510
Website: www.bontewaffles.com

Belgian Sugar Waffles with Blueberries ($3.50)

I once read that it takes three weeks to form a habit. If this is indeed true, my Bonté habit is coming along nicely. The Astronomer and I stopped by Bonté’s 17th street location to see whether mixing in some fresh blueberries into an already delicious waffle would bring the treat to a whole new level. Our conclusion? Mixed.

Like the original waffle, the blueberry waffle is made from a dough. Blueberries and sugar crystals are mixed into the dough, squished between a waffle iron, and served piping hot.

Since I wasn’t really in a snacking mood, I let The Astronomer choose the mix in. He wavered between pecans and blueberries and eventually picked blueberries because he loves berries with all of his heart. I thought the waffle tasted more ordinary with the addition of blueberries. The built in sweetness and flaky texture unique to Bonté’s waffles were subdued by the fruit’s tartness and oozing juice. My mix-in of choice would have been white chocolate because I love my sweets really sweet. While I have yet to try this mix-in, I’m hoping that melted chocolate won’t effect the waffles incredible texture because that would be a shame.

The Astronomer thought the addition of blueberries improved upon the plain even though it masked the waffle’s natural sweetness. Unlike me, The Astronomer likes his sweets a little tart and thus this combination really tickled his fancy. Even though he enjoyed the blueberry waffle more than the plain, The Astronomer highly recommends new Bonté eaters trying the plain first before experimenting with mix-ins in order to get a true sense of a Bonté waffle.

Two locations down, just one more to go…

Bonte on Urbanspoon

May 2007

Stealing Buddha’s Dinner – Bich Minh Nguyen

About: A vivid, funny, and viscerally powerful memoir about childhood, assimilation, food, and growing up in the 1980s.

As a Vietnamese girl coming of age in Grand Rapids, Michigan, Bich Nguyen is filled with a rapacious hunger for American identity. In the pre-PC era Midwest, where the devoutly Christian blond-haired, blue-eyed Jennifers and Tiffanys reign supreme, Nguyen’s barely conscious desire to belong transmutes into a passion for American food. More exotic seeming than her Buddhist grandmother’s traditional specialties — spring rolls, delicate pancakes stuffed with meats, fried shrimp cakes—the campy, preservative-filled “delicacies” of mainstream America capture her imagination. And in this remarkable book, the glossy branded allure of such American foods as Pringles, Kit Kats, and Toll House cookies become an ingenious metaphor for her struggle to fit in, to become a “real” American. Beginning with Nguyen’s family’s harrowing migration from Saigon in 1975, Stealing Buddha’s Dinner is nostalgic and candid, deeply satisfying and minutely observed, and stands as a unique vision of the immigrant experience and a lyrical ode to how identity is often shaped by the things we long for.

My thoughts: Stealing Buddha’s Dinner is one of the best books I’ve read this year. Nguyen earnestly explores and ties together some of my favorite topics: food (!), marketing, adolescence, family, and identity. I haven’t read much literature about the Vietnamese-American experience, but this memoir has definitely piqued my interest in the genre. Growing up I’ve always wondered whether my family’s traditions were our own or an all encompassing Vietnamese way. Comparing and contrasting my experiences with the author’s, I’ve concluded that all Vietnamese grandmothers cut up fresh fruit for their grandchildren after school, every kid wanted the Kool-Aid guy to burst through their kitchen wall, and balancing assimilation with cultural traditions will always be difficult. I highly recommend this book to everyone regardless of background because figuring out the world and where we fit in it is a universal theme.

May 2007

Wok & Roll – Minneapolis

May 11, 2007
Cuisine: Chinese, Japanese

Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport
4300 Glumack Drive
St. Paul, MN 55111

Phone: 612-726-1999
Website: none

Unagi Nigiri ($9.62)

Inari Sushi ($5.73)

I enjoyed some unexpectedly terrific sushi during my layover in the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport coming back from Boise. Chances are slim that I’ll ever have a layover in this airport again, but perhaps some gas•tron•o•my readers travel through this hub more often and can give Wok & Roll a whirl. Regardless, it never hurts to share good eats.

Wok & Roll dishes up Chinese food (hence, wok) and sushi (hence, roll) in terminals C, E, and the main food court. While I generally steer clear of sushi found in malls, airports, or sold next to General Tso’s Chicken, I have a soft spot for Inari and decided to take a chance.

The Inari sushi was just as good as the ones served in full-service Japanese restaurants. The fried bean curd was sweet and the rice was moist and fragrant of vinegar. The Unagi Nigiri was delectable as well. A generous portion of eel sat atop a lightly packed mound of rice. I asked for extra Kabayaki Sauce because the eel looked a touch too dry. Low-end sushi can usually be saved with plenty of soy sauce, but the Inari and Unagi Nigiri were both satisfying on their own.

The prices at Wok & Roll are a bit steep, but the quality is high. It’s good to know palatable sushi can be found in unlikely places such as airport food courts in the Midwest.

Wok & Roll on Urbanspoon