the ulterior epicure

1st Course: Porcini Flan
Bouley, New York

I’ve been to Bouley thrice now.

The first time I went was in 2007, when the restaurant resided in that sumptuously red, arched space at 120 West Broadway where Bouley Bakery is now. To this day, I count it as one of the most beautiful dining rooms I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating in.

But I was disappointed by that inaugural experience.  Bouley seemed tired, an aging dinosaur on the decline. The food ranged from very good to mediocre, and the hapless service destroyed whatever pleasure there might have been left to enjoy. This was a Michelin 2-starred restaurant?

But last year (2008), Bouley moved.  Not far.  Just around the corner.

Overnight, the restaurant went from passé to talk of the town.
Continue reading ‘review: comedy of errors…’

Steamed Shrimp
Jean Georges, New York

I’ve gone and done it.

I will probably never catch up.

I have no excuse. *hangs head in shame*

I’ve had a busy year of work, travel, work, eating, work, travel, work, eating…  eating, eating, eating…

Though I’ve managed to churn out a number of blog reviews of my restaurant meals, there remain many untold meals of 2009.  On this first day of the last month of the year, I thought I’d do a personal inventory of just how far behind I am this year.  Here’s a list of all of the meals that I haven’t yet gotten around to writing about:
Continue reading ‘catch me if you can…’

u.e.’s Lunch Box

The holidays always makes one nostalgic, doesn’t it?

Among the many things I’m thankful for this holiday season is my childhood, which was filled with so much adventure and good food. And they went hand-in-hand – almost literally – in this tidy little tin box that I carried to school every day from pre-school through kindergarten. Okay, maybe part of first grade too. I really can’t remember.

At some point, I graduated to the paper bag, which was so much more sanitary (lunch boxes have this unmistakable “locker room banana” smell that I still can’t shake), disposable, transient, and imagination-killing.

Luke, Bo, Daisy, Uncle Jesse, Boss Hogg – the whole gang – kept me company through countless colouring books, field trips, and the dreaded nap times. It was the envy of many a rambunctious classmates, and a few girls too. Thanks mom and dad – you were and still are the best!

What was your first lunch box?

To see the rest of this lunch box, CLICK HERE.  (The title of this post is an inside joke – he’ll understand when he sees it.)

1st Course: Maine Peekytoe Crab Salad
Daniel, New York

I was young, both figuratively and literally, the first time I ate at Daniel. That was five years ago.

My friend and I were treated like the dishwasher’s stepchildren.

I exaggerate, of course. But Daniel was clearly a place for fancy pants that I’ll never get to wear.

Service aside, Daniel’s food wasn’t very memorable. I mean, for the small hill of cash we laid down, we shouldn’t have walked out of the restaurant with holes in our stomachs. Hue and I walked back up to his place on 85th and stopped in at the Hot ‘n Crusty for some giant, fresh-out-of the oven cookies for a satisfying midnight snack.

Continue reading ‘review: maugre expectations…’

Santa Barbara Sea Urchins
Eleven Madison Park, New York

The sidereal has turned.  The stars have aligned.

In almost every respect, Eleven Madison Park is the new kid on the constellation.

In the months since my last visit in May, Eleven Madison Park has been awarded four stars from Frank Bruni, the former restaurant critic of the New York Times, and picked up its first Michelin star.

So, I’m not going to tell you anything here that you can’t learn from many other sources, including this blog: Eleven Madison Park is great.

Is it perfect?

No.

But the restaurant that Executive Chef Daniel Humm has created with restaurateur Danny Meyer and a team of young, upbeat, and hard-working restaurant staff members has, over the last three years, proven itself worthy of joining the most elite circle of New York restaurants.

Continue reading ‘review: raining stars…’

Steamed Garoupa Fillet with Morels
Lung King Heen, Hong Kong

Pleased to let me arrange our entire eating itinerary, my friend Mr. RBI flew all the way from the U.S. just to eat with me during my first three days of my trip to Hong Kong. It was his first time in Asia.

Being a party of two, there was no way we could cover any decent amount of a menu as lengthy as the one at Lung King Heen, or really, any Chinese restaurant. So, the tasting menu – as loathe as I am to admit it – really did make sense for us, especially if it was representative of the menu as it had been two weeks prior to my arrival. It hit all the highlights: shark’s fin soup, abalone, garoupa, etc.

A last minute change in the tasting menu prior to my arrival, however, left me faced with a tasting menu that sounded much more French than Cantonese. A mycophile I might be, I wasn’t flying half-way around to world to eat morels, chanterelles, and porcini at Lung King Heen. The “Mushroom Tasting” wasn’t going to fly.

Continue reading ‘review: from the dragon’s perch…’

Daniel, New York

I talk so rarely about the friends with whom I eat.

They are saints.

They’re patient: delaying gratification until my camera has sufficiently captured the scene.

They’re generous, inviting me to wander all over their plates at will with my fork.

They’re accepting – they embrace (even if they don’t fully understand) my strange obsessions (I’m thinking of a situation involving my friend Houston and a plate of lievre a la royale).

And for reasons that remain a mystery to me, they pass up perfectly normal, if not low-key dining options in order to accompany me on my multi-course, mega-calorie, and many-houred meals.

They deserve a spotlight.
Continue reading ‘travel: the wizard of roz…’

“Porcupine” Milk Custard Buns
Tim’s Kitchen, Macau

If you’re the type that reads this blog with any regularity, then it won’t take much to convince you that there are some people who are born with a higher (indeed, abnormal) affinity toward food. In fact, I’m a strong believer that this predisposition is prenatal.

To wit: when my mother was pregnant with me – this in her third trimester – she developed an immense and intense craving for Chinese salted fish, a pungent (some would say, awful-smelling) preserved seasoning of sorts used most commonly in Cantonese cuisine. My mother is not Cantonese. Neither is my father.

So persistent was my demand for this stuff that my mother woke my father up at 3 a.m., demanded that he drive her to the airport – in a snow storm – so that she could board the earliest flight to Chicago where my aunt picked her up and took her to Chinatown, where she bought ten bags full of salted fish (if you know anything about this product, that’s enough to last a life-time).

And wouldn’t you know it? I happen to love the stuff.

Continue reading ‘review: a preternatural prenatal yen…’

Tea-Smoked Bresse Pigeon
Man Wah, Hong Kong

If the little dish of fried walnuts was the fantastic opener to our meal at Man Wah, the Kung Po Bean Curd (HK$110) was the headliner. The tumble of fluffy cubes of tofu – thinly glazed with a crisp, fried sheen of spicy sauce and commingled with blistered red chiles and crunchy cashews – earned a salivating assortment of descriptions including fiery, savory, and comforting.

A surprisingly impressive Peking duck service followed, and a fantastic eggplant dessert closed out the evening on a high note.

Man Wah surprised me.

I guess it shouldn’t have, as it came highly recommended by a number of locals with good taste.

Continue reading ‘review: gnawing on brains…’