Secrets of Chinatown
- Brian S Sep 23, 2006 04:26 PM
Early this morning I decided to write a post for "Not About Food" on the challenges I face when trying a new restaurant in Manhattan's Chinatown. The purpose would be to find out if these things are unique to Manhattan or if it's the same across the country. So I sat down to write and the post ended up longer than I intended. But the point is the same. Please, reader, tell me if things are the same where you are. I'm especially interested in Monterey Park and also the bay area.
" Do you ever get the feeling that there's something going on that we don't know about?"
-- Timothy Fenwick (Kevin Bacon) in "Diner" (1982)
I usually end up eating dinner in Manhattan's Chinatown. It's the high point of my day, always rewarding, and sometimes the reward is unexpected -- and not only the food. Last night in a nearly deserted restaurant on the gritty eastern fringe of East Broadway, a party of drinkers were engrossed in loud and blustery conversation. The waiters were eating what looked like a banquet at a nearby table while an obnoxious little boy -- one of the waitresses' sons -- ran all over, throwing a paper airplane someone had made for him. It was like a genial family gathering, and for a short while I felt part of it.
Always rewarding, rarely easy, never boring. Chinatown dining is like a Chinese box... boxes within boxes within boxes and if you look at it you won't even know it's a box at all. Here are some of the boxes, some of the secrets.
"Please, could I have the other menu?"
" I gave you the menu"
". No, the other menu. The one in Chinese"
" There is no other menu"
"There it is, those little books near the register."
"That's not a menu."
Of course those little books really are menus, written in Chinese only, with all the good stuff on them. To spare myself this dialogue, I usually grab onto a menu (it's usually near the cash register) and hold on for dear life. They might try to tug it away. Once they see me order and use the menu, everything changes. Everyone hovers around, excited, friendly, asking questions. Where did you learn Chinese? Have you been to China? What cities? At one restaurant, the Chinese menu was written on the wall and I ordered from it. The place was packed and everyone applauded.
If celebrity chef Mario Batali quit his restaurant and set up shop in a pizzeria in Brooklyn, it would be front-page news. Chinese celebrity chefs hop from place to place all the time, and outside the community no one knows. In fact, I don't even know who the superchefs ARE, except of course for movie-star-handsome Chen Ping Hui, owner of Ping's. But when a top chef leaves a banquet hall, the quality of the food plummets. And, since I don't know that the cast has changed, the understudy now the star, I have no idea why the food went south. The last thing the restaurant owners would do is tell people their star has left the building.
Of course if you walk in to one of those cavernous, bustling banquet halls and order a dish, the celebrity chef won't cook your food. The order probably will go to the least experienced guy in the kitchen. You may leave underwhelmed, wondering how the next table got such dazzling dishes.
"No, you can't come in here, you're not Chinese!" It was a tiny dive on Eldridge and the waiter was hustling me out. I replied in Chinese, saying how much I wanted to try Fujianese food. "Let him stay, he speaks Chinese!" shouted the people at the other tables. And they did, and showed me to the best table.
Usually, restaurants are more subtle. They hide. Often in plain view. About four years ago while strolling through Chinatown I blundered upon a restaurant that served the best Chinese food -- by far -- that I have ever encountered. Under the Manhattan Bridge, this cavernous banquet palace was totally hidden from the street and the only reason I found it is that the first week it was open, they had a huge banner on East Broadway. I have eaten there about twenty times and never saw a diner who was not Chinese.
They're not set up for casual diners. It is primarily a banquet hall. It is usually given over to wedding receptions -- boisterous, fun, lively, but about half the time I went, I couldn't get in. Sometimes there'd be a tiny part of the hall, screened off, for walk-in diners. Once or twice, after they got to know me, they'd sneak me in to a reception. And what a joy that was! There would be act after act of entertainers: Peking opera, costumed dancers, comedians, Taiwanese rock singers with dancing. Even when I was behind the screen, I could hear the action and wished I was part of it.
And the food. It was the only Chinese place I've encountered that was incredibly creative but worked within tradition. (Most Chinese places that try to be creative go overboard and feature shrimps with mayonnaise or ham and cheese with spaghetti.) One entree was perfectly cooked eel steaks of the plumpest juiciest eels I've seen served atop a bed of fried candied apples! It was a bit sweet, but the sweetness and the salty eels worked in harmony and given a bit of tweaking and this dish could be served to applause at Jean-Georges. Another was a version of a seafood casserole I've had in other places (one Chinese character has three tiny squares, another has a horizontal line, meaning number one) but infinitely better. A big clay pot with a little burner under it. In the pot, bubbling in a rich, thick brown sauce that varied in thickness so you'd in effect have several different sauces, were slices of good-quality abalone, beef tendons, chicken feet, tiny puff pastry balls filled with what tasted like pate, scallops, all perfectly cooked, reclining on a bed of fresh spinach leaves. Every time I left that place, I'd be planning the next visit. I haven't been there in two years but I can still taste that eel, see those swirling dancers.
[the account of the secret restaurant is adapted from a post I made to the Manhattan board last December]
When we want to explore the capabilities of a Chinese restaurant in Monterey Park (or elsewhere in the San Gabriel Valley) we always want to have our friend Peter along with us. Peter's mom was an accomplished chef, specializing in traditional Cantonese cuisine, and he grew up knowing and loving that and every other kind of Chinese food. That, plus the fact that he IS Chinese, and speakes and reads the language, makes him the perfect sidekick for these expeditions. The waiters and the dim sum cart ladies all go right to him, which is fine with us! We've never had a bad meal when he's been along, and quite a few superlative ones.
Ahh, the hiding staff thing! That brings me back. In 1986 I went with some friends to Lhasa (back when I remembered the Mandarin I studied in college). We stayed in the typical ramshackle hostel, and after a few days, we decided to treat ourselves to dinner in the new Chinese but Western sytle hotel on the outskirts of town. We were the only people in the restaurant, but we waited for half an hour in the empty room. We could see the staff poking their heads out of the kitchen, waiting for us to leave. Good times...
In any event, next year I'll be shepherding 50 French winemakers to a lunch in Chinatown. What is the place beneath the Manhattan Bridge? Sounds like Triple Eight palace, which I haven't been to in 15 years. I definitely want to avoid the Chinatown version of Western fusion (where everything seems to have some mayo in it).
I sneaked into Lhasa a few years before you, back when no foreigners were allowed, apart from tour groups. The food was dreadful and I didn't care!
The Manhattan place is not Triple Eight, which is well known and is where Chen Ping Hui first became famous. It's
Ming Dynasty, 75-85 East Broadway, New York, NY, 212-732-8886
Just remember I haven't been there in two years and for all I know it went way downhill.
Organizing a Chinese banquet for 50 French gourmets is an incredible challenge and would make a good topic for this board. You might get some helpful advice. And then another post on the Manhattan board to see what restaurant is best.
re: Brian S
Yes, I was lucky with Lhasa. In 1986, you could go anywere in China. Technically, we were supposed to get permits, but in reality, it was hop on a plane or train and go. And you are right, the food in Lhasa was horrific. Everything tasted like it was stir fried in motor oil. But being able to stroll around the Potala -- amidst monks carrying solid gold statues and thousand year old tapestries -- made starving worthwhile.
I've done the lunch thing 3 times now over the past 6 years. In 2005, we all went to Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem, which they loved. I'd like to go to a Colombian joint, but the logistics just won't work.
Here in Washington DC, we had one celebrity chef the Chowhounds all knew about. He made a name for genuimely authentic Szechuan cooking at one small restaurant in the Northern Virginia 'burbs (it largely retains his mark), moved with great fanfare to another (it sort of retains his mark), quickly left and moved to another and BEFORE THEY COULD EVEN CHANGE THE SIGN, left in a huff for parts unknown.
We're left with happy memories and (glad to say) a better idea of where the 'real stuff' is, plus a fair amount of acceptance at those spots (no trouble getting a Chinese menu, and few of those are written in Chinese only.)
It's just tough explaining to a fellow diner why my Kung-Pao Chicken off the Chinese menu is so much better than his Kung-Pao Chicken off the American menu.
I must add, though, that in the FAR 'burbs there is one place that, for years, has quietly been doing 'fusion' things to some dishes, and doing them excellently, subtly, and without much fanfare. No mayonnaise, but zucchini? Tomatoes? Somehow they work - plus a hot-&-sour soup with a bell-like clarity I've never tasted anywhere else.
Brian, That quote from "Diner" is so true! Even a casual observer in our International District will notice that tables with local Chinese diners are getting completely different food options than the "outsiders". Fortunately, I've recently found a Szechuan restaurant with just one menu--and it's not "Westernized". (Which can be scary to first time visitors who are not used to seeing "Spicy Pork Intestine" as a lunch option.) The food there is incredible.
HI, Leper, it looks like your home board is mine too (Pacific NW). If your Szechuan place happens to be in Seattle, would you mind sharing the name? I don't speak Chinese, but I love the real/traditional food, and am always frustrated when I order something that should be really spicy and not goopy, but then it turns out bland, sweet, and thick (as was my last order of szechuan shrimp). I always feel like shouting out something like "don't judge the customer by the blond hair . . . I want the chicken feet!" but never do.
Brian, I'm jealous of the food you've been getting, and next time I'm in NY I want some recommendations!
It would be the privilege of all of us on the Outer Boroughs board to make such recommendations.
In the meantime, what you can do is get menus which are in Cninese and English and learn some characters. Or you could bring the menu along and use it to translate some of the Chinese menu. Here's the menu of the best Sichuan restaurant in New York. It's in Flushing Queens. Unfortunately, some of it is blurry.
And here's a San Francisco hound's dinner there, with a link to delicious photos.
HAF, It's Seven Stars Pepper restaurant in the International District. I tend to order odd things like the "spicy pork intestine" just to try them. Some dishes are just too edgy (like those cooked in blood). Their hand cut noodle dishes are fantastic as is their crab and hot pots. A true Chowhound destination spot.
FANTASTIC! I work in SoDo, and will have to hit Seven Stars soon. I have to admit, that's one I've never hit. I agree though, stuff cooked in blood is a little much--although if I don't know what it is of course I'll try it. Excited to try the hot pots--one of my favorite comfort foods. I'll report back once I've tried it (hmm, lunch tomorrow????)
And Brian, I had heard about the new Szechuan Chef, but didn't know it was the same chef--a good one to look for next time I'm on the Eastside.
Thanks, both of you, for giving me some good new Chinese ideas!